desert rain, art and Australian hospitality

"the city's been our cage, but we can be each others' key" - Cody Dylan

there was a wall of water as we rounded the tenth curve in the west Texas mountains, and an anticipation in my bones was mounting. four J's for the fourth of July couldn't have been more appropriate. but for me, more than the holiday, more than the friends, more than the landscape was my escape. even if for a moment, i escaped the city. i escaped constant connection. i was a free man for 3 days.

freedom is a funny thing though...

i tuck inside my shell often as i approach a place of realization. it's not that i want to deny any outside perspectives, but i think epiphany is often a quiet lover who will only reveal herself if you sit still and listen intently. but this place, this freedom, this quiet, it's a lot to take when what's par for the course is a barrage of noise, people, and movement. stillness is scary to a shaker.

but thank God for the rain.

there's not many things in this world that can so gently force me into a calm, but rain is one of them. never does noise sound so peaceful. but it helps me breathe. funny how that happened for us this weekend in the desert.

as the rain came down we found ourselves huddled under an awning eating from a shark with strangers. there were puppies and babies and couples embracing to keep warm. i saw a familiar face and after a timid approach made plans for that evening at the bar in Marfa, Padres. as the rain subsided a little we left to find some art galleries. it was an odd feeling driving and walking through a deserted desert town (average annual income is less than 10k) looking for galleries where the pieces hanging were worth more than the buildings in which they hung.







we saw 12' canvases painted with pictures of 9/11 from the perspective of a child. we saw resin casts of books and cats.











on a quest for a meth lab we instead found a hanging ball and strings held by rings.



























the back yard of the gallery that once was a meth lab installation was interesting and intriguing. there were remnants of the rain that had just fallen pooled up on parts of the installation. other parts of it were hanging in re-adjusted repose from the wind that just rearranged them.








we spent time in a book store listening to odd music and flipping through books on art, Marfa and James Dean.

i went on a quest to find where the Reata was located.

this old house was used in filming the classic movie Giant starring James Dean and Elizabeth Taylor. i saw photos of the building and hoped to find it, but learned in the bookstore that the house was no longer standing. so instead we went to find an old abandoned Army Air Field.

we found the location of it but arrived to a barbed wire fence blocking us from it.

over this same field is where the famed Marfa Lights were to be seen. we tried for two nights to see them but saw nothing except a radio tower and distant head lights.

our next day was the 4th. we had a relaxing day of driving and playing in the rain. we found an abandoned building to play in from which we watched another wall of rain come at us from the distance. rain in the desert is just amazing. really amazing. later that night we met up with our Australian friends that we met the night before. they invited us to their campsite for dinner. it was a delicious meal with some really nice people. after we ate, one of the Australians, Cody, and I swapped songs. this man was amazing. such a great singer and song writer. [note: the quote up top is from his song Evelyn] they will be in Austin this week and i'm excited to spend some more time with them. we got shut down at their campsite and moved our party to the Marfa lights viewing area where we continued to sing and shoot off fireworks. before the night began, we were in our hotel room and i was contemplating just sitting in our room for the night. i felt exhausted and anti social, but i forced myself to go and thank God i did. this was the best night of the trip and so many great things came out of it.

the next day we packed up and began our journey home back east. this trip was short but so sweet. my mind was cleared and my soul was satisfied to be in the desert. i'll put some more photos up on my facebook page so if you're friends with me there, well, then lucky you.

now, i just need to continue living my freedom while in the cage of this city...

an allegory of a weekend ahead

"Three more days,
Girl ya know I will be comin' home to ya Darlin'"
-Ray Lamontagne

In this story, we'll refer to her as "Sarah". We'll start when she grabbed my hand as we walked out of a movie theater. Summer was in full swing and I couldn't have been happier. My bank account was empty, my sweat glands were working overtime in the Texas heat, and somehow my heart was full. There wasn't much to say about the movie we had just seen, but I'm probably the worst person to ask. My attention was fully off the screen for the entire 90 minutes and fully on the girl next to me. She smelled like strawberries and her warmth of personality was slowly and gently encompassing me. This wasn't the first movie we had seen together. Far from it actually. We were approaching the four year mark of knowing each other. A four year process that has been leading me to this enraptured state. Every day with her was a smile. Every argument with her that resolved so easily was a poem. She was my muse. She was my home. So you can imagine my elation as the cup was flying from my hand to the trash can, her hand took its place. I looked at her with surprised happy eyes and her smile told me "This is where we've both been headed, and I'm glad we're finally here." That was the beginning of a journey that we're now on and it's been a good ride. It's sure to remain so.

[now imagine that that girl is Marfa, TX and you'll know my feelings about what this weekend will be for me as I'm unplugged from the city]

an attempt to shift the scales

i'm searching for inspiration when days like today happen. there's no denying that Life happens around us, but it's pretty easy to deny that it's happening in us. i got a note today from someone that sent me to places i haven't been in a long time in my head. but this is what's ultimately come of it, so as not to bore you with the ridiculous details of the situation:

for all the days i've been on this earth, i've yet to shift the balance on the scale of selfish vs. selfless. the selfish side has been closer to the ground for, well, all my life. but as i get older i'm attempting to throw some of the weight off of this side and get the selfless part of me fat. i see it in my father, in my mother, and in so many of the people i love, this selfless living towards me. and it pains me to think... well, let me explain...

i'm going through a book with some great people right now called The Return of the Prodigal Son - A Story of Homecoming by Henri Nouwen. we met last night about it and discussed which of the three main characters of the story we saw ourselves as. i confessed i felt like the younger son who left home to pursue pleasure and wealth and frivolity. but that i felt i was on my way back home. the other characters, the older son, who resented his younger brother for leaving, squandering his inheritance, and putting his family through torment, and the Father who welcomed his son home with no question, just a party. both the sons have their hurdles to get over. their issues to deal with. and surely the father was in anguish the entire time his son was gone. still, he threw him a party when he returned. this kind of selfless love i just cannot understand. the act seems so simple, but the toll it must take on your being to live in such a way seems very costly.

but its where i want to be.

this note today was a glimpse that i may have been on this side of things, the selfless side, for one of the first times in my life. possibly. i felt as though i was living like i was towards them, and then... well the inheritance was taken and they're gone. so now, on this side, i feel the pain of not being considered. too many times have i done that to others. TOO many. so many that i see when i'm doing it and make an effort to stop. hence the scale shifting goal. but from here, i feel the pain of rejection in spite of so many efforts to love well.

so i'm hoping that as i continue this journey towards becoming like the Father, that maybe the pain will subside a little. or least i'll be given the grace to withstand it.

i read a great quote today that i'll leave you with:

"In life, as in the dance, grace glides on blistered feet." -Alice Abrams

Sam Cooke, Julie Jones and Marfa

"i was born by the river
in a little tent
and just like the river i've been runnin'
ever since

it's been a long, a long time comin'
but i know a change gon' come

oh yes it will"
-Sam Cooke

and now to quote a question i asked my great friend just a few moments ago: have you ever felt like you wanted your life to be different? not that what it is now is bad, but just that you want it to change? well, in the midst of the conversation that question started, i think i realized a couple of things. and here they are for you reading pleasure.


i believe i have a good life. i'm blessed in so many ways that are too numerous to list here, but just know: i'm rich in all ways. but my ability to recognize that in the midst of the busyness i put myself in has become weak. if i could look at my life and my world with fresh eyes i think i could more easily recognize how amazing it is. this leads me to the next thought this conversation led to...




this 2 is 2 fold. part a: i need to say "no" more. the busyness that begins to feel routine and thus weigh me down is more in my social life than otherwise. the inability to say no mixed with a conviction to keep my word makes for a pretty unhealthy me after a while. but i still believe, and this is part b: that if i learn to better spread myself, socially and otherwise, i will still need moments to escape. thus my number 3...




tonight i will go to my parents house [which is not visited by me nearly enough] and relax. then in July, i will go to Marfa, TX with some of my best friends and just be. no cell phone. no internet. just Marfa and my friends. what better way to celebrate independence day than to be freed from my slavery to connection? i'll fill you in on that as it comes to pass. i'm sure i will have plenty to write about once i'm back.






so.
i'm thankful for these things today: Julie, my parents living close, and my literacy.

old is the new new

this was one of the first string of words i put together in my head this morning after i woke up. i know you know what i mean. you wake up in a stupor and stumble with atrophied legs towards your bathroom. at this point you only have instincts. language isn't dictating your actions or even thoughts. for a brief moment after leaving sleep we are thoughtless zombies. walking dead.

or maybe that's just me...

regardless, this morning as i was coming out of my zombie me, the first words i had were "old is the new new." my life (and yours if you pay attention) has been infiltrated by phrases and sayings like a paper wall in a hurricane. par exemple:

"its a [place band name here] kinda day."
"white is the new black."

(just to name a couple. i could go into my thoughts about that first one, but i've already vented my peeves so i'll withhold those thoughts and move right along.)

phrases come in and they go out. how many times did you say "eat my shorts" after Bart did the first time? and now? you don't even think about that phrase do you? how about "tickled pink"? maybe ask your mom about that one.

all these phrases that are here then gone, it got me thinking about how fluid words can be. i think there is a lot of stigma placed on certain words. some people don't like to hear them, be it for their meaning (original or slang), or just the sound of it scratches its nails on their minds chalkboard. still other words are so easily tossed around that we never consider them threatening or at the least, important.

who decides how powerful, hurtful, helpful, or gruesome a word is?

we do.

i can hear words like shit and hear a funny word, a strong word, or a bad word, depending on the situation. my grandmother can hear the same word and always hear a bad word, no matter the situation. some of us decide to put the stigma on the words themselves rather than their usage. and personally, i don't want to do that. i'll let you decide for yourself what you want to do, but for me, words are just letters that we have decided represent sounds that our mouths can make which reflect our world around us. words are not evil. words are not Satan. Adam and Eve surely must've been able to communicate with each other, and in what language i don't know. i imagine it being a beautiful language that God actually spoke audibly as He walked in the garden with them. but then sin entered the garden and started a ripple effect of destruction and death. one of the results of the sin was our ability to believe we can become our own gods. that we don't need the One who created us. that was seen easily in the story of Babel. in a stroke of grace and genius, God "confused" the world by creating different languages. you may see this act as cruel and greedy. God says Himself in the story that if man, with a single language, can build a tower to heaven, nothing would be impossible for them. but if God is God, then we can't be. and maybe he saw us believing we could be and stopped it for our own sake. now, i don't know enough about the theology of this story to get too deep into its meaning and consequences, but something that sticks out to me is the birth of multiple languages.

[pause and reset]

[now breathe]

we are all confused. look at us: there's war. there's hunger. there's death. we're trying to stop all these things, which is noble, but a mission that will likely not come to fruition in our lifetime. we should keep going, but also realize where we are. how does this apply to our words?

glad you asked.

we're all in the same sinking boat together. we're throwing buckets of water overboard every minute. we're attempting to survive. why in the hell would we stop to argue about the fact that i just said "why in the hell"? if you have a problem with certain words, and i don't already know about it, tell me. i don't say "shit" in front of my parents because i know they don't like the word. the word itself coming out of my mouth speaks nothing to my state of faith or ability to love well. but it scratches its nails on my parents minds chalkboards, so i don't say it, in hopes of maintaining my ability to love well.

words can be powerful or hurtful, helpful or gruesome, so figure out where words are those things and chose wisely which ones you use.

Prologue

Our lives are seduced daily into becoming outsiders looking in. Always that and never insiders living and dying. Just observers. Watchers. Lifeless decor.

Think about your favorite TV show or your favorite movie. You can look onto the story with a knowledge that the characters don't have. Or at least don't have all of. They each only have their inside vantage point from which to view the story. It seems limited and perhaps scary.

[but why wouldn't we rather be in the story]

thoughts from a weekend of conversations

have you ever felt like you're on the verge of having a very big emotion? whether it be sadness, happiness, anger, or whatever, just that you feel like you're about to feel it but you don't. you're on the cusp. well thats how it's been for me over the last couple of weeks. i've watched more hours of Hulu than i care to admit and each time, no matter the show, i'm on the verge of crying or laughing but never really do. its like i have something to deal with but i haven't yet, but i can feel it coming closer to the surface. i just need it to rear its head and show itself to me so i can live it and move on. maybe its that i haven't mourned over something properly, or haven't celebrated something as i should.

one thing i've considered doing to bring it to the surface is something i've never done before: make myself cry. now, part of this seems noble and worthy of my efforts, but the other part of it seems like it could be forced and therefor not be genuine. i just need to emote in a big way. if i make myself cry, maybe i'll be more in tune with my emotions and thus feel what i need to.

so this is my public admittance. this is my plea. this is my confession to the world. perhaps this will make it become more real. more doable. more right. i need to be right, and i'm right on the edge of that cliff. here's to jumping.

Getting to Know James, Session 2: Pet Peeves

who was it that decided to call them pet peeves? as though they were something we'd want to cuddle on the couch with while watching a killer RomCom.

no.

maybe "next door neighbor's annoying dog" peeves fits better.

anyway, here a few of mine, to continue the theme of getting to know James:

-when girls call me "man", "dude" or "bro" ... its not cool. you might, on some level, think that i'll relate with you better if you take on this masculine trait, but i won't. it weirds me out. be a girl and call me things like cutie, or handsome. maybe even James.

-when people use the word "literally" too much and out of context. did you LITERALLY just shit a brick? no. no you didn't. so stop saying it.

-when people have phlegm in their throat and don't clear it out but continue talking to me. i don't want to be rude and say "clear your f@%^ing throat" but i will repeatedly clear my already clear throat to hint at the fact that they've got a tennis ball of loogie lodged in theirs.

-imagine yourself eating with a fork. you pick up the food and put it into your mouth. if you then clamp your teeth on the fork as you slide it out of your mouth, you are my metal-on-teeth shreeking enemy. if you use your lips instead, you are my friend.


i'll stop with those before inadvertently include everyone in one way or another and thus alienate myself from you all.

if i know you, i still love you even though you may do these things. but just know you are perpetuating my neighbor's annoying dog peeves.

it's been a minute

hello 2010, this is James. but circa 2005 James. i've just come for a moment to remind 2010 James of something that started in my time: we have looked at the clock when it is 12:34 (am or pm) freakishly close to every time it's happened over the last 5 years.

this may sound like an exaggeration, and i don't blame you for believing it is. even if its that thing where you say you believe me but in the back of your mind you honestly can't believe something like that would ever happen; i'm still ok with it.

but just listen... or read, as the case may be:

imagine for a minute that this actually happens to you. does it not strike you as something that would only happen in a movie or a 6 season long show about people getting stuck on an island only to get off only to go back only to realize they're only happy when they're dead together? me too. it absolutely weirds me out. but i've come to a couple conclusions about why this could be happening.

1. the psychological mind would suggest that my mind controls my actions without telling me. this is a theory that says: it happened enough on random occasion that i started to think there was a pattern to me doing this and thus, i did it. that my subconscious has a hand in controlling my actions based on my biological clock. basically, i think i do it, therefore i do it.

or

2. the interpretive mind might be of the school that there is something deeper to my actions, whether conscious or subconscious. a force. a god. a light. a thing that has it's hand on me, steering or pushing me in certain directions. and in this school, one could find meaning in what seem to be meaningless occurrences. and the meaning of this could be as follows: maybe i'm being led up to an event in my life that hasn't happened yet. led up to, or counting up to. and perhaps when this "thing" happens, i'll stop looking at the clock at 12:34 on a regular basis.

there's really endless roads you could take on this subject. all i know is that it freaks me out a little.

nope. kind of a lot.

this is the weirdest thing about me. so welcome to me.

this isn't about Lost, I swear... well maybe a little...

i bet if i started this blog admitting something about myself, then you'd feel more comfortable with me and want to hear what i have to say.

so here it is.

i am addicted to Lost.

this may not seem like much of an admission, but you may change your mind after reading this.
[see: tv shows that make you think about deep, real life stuff]

after a day of anxiety, and a night of emotional release via rock music, i sat at a table in Austin with two of my best friends sharing Sierra Nevada Pale Ale's discussing the latest episode of Lost. i'll spare you the nerdy details we talked about and skip right to the part that made my mindwheels start spinning: the series has seemed like it had a "good vs. evil" theme through out, but now it seems like it's more of a "faith vs. knowledge" theme.

this is a theme i think has existed in my life, and all around me for most of my life, but seemed to go under the radar. right and wrong, good and evil, these are what pinged on my screen most of my days. but growing up in the church, i have seen faith vs. knowledge quite a bit. it's a common thread in most of the stories in the Bible. its actually the first story in the bible: "don't eat the fruit of the tree of knowledge..." there wasn't a good tree and an evil tree in Eden.

all of this has sent my head into a tailspin. so i'll try and regain the controls here...

[3 hour intermission of thought]

even as i attempted to begin to sort my thoughts, i was drawn in so many directions. i couldn't make sense of it. so what do people in our generation when they want some enlightenment on a subject?

google it.

if you're as into philosophy and analytical thinking as i am, i think you'll enjoy this article on the relationship of faith and knowledge.

Faith and Knowledge

oh Lost, what you do to me...

consider this blog plagiarized and lazy.