of sinking ships..

if you are looking for something to listen to, consider going here or here and listening to 'of sinking ships.' it's beautifully written instrumental goodness. it's especially good if you are at work (or even home) and can put something on to listen to in the background while you work. it provides a quite nice sound backdrop for me while i lose myself in database entry.

blue like...

I ran across this article yesterday, and found it to be hillarious. Some people in this world are just stupid. Those of you who have read Blue Like Jazz will especially get a kick out of it, and if you haven't read that book, do yourself a favor and read it.

some new collages i've worked on lately:

there is a recycling center in chapel hill, and there's a section for magazines. there's a rack where people can put their old magazines for others to read, and i went there the other night to get some stuff for collages. i ran across several beauty magazines, and i've always been struck by images of beauty displayed on these magazines and also the messages about sex that we get from them. the first is an ad for lingerie, and i found the quote interesting (if you can't read it, it says "contrary to popular belief, red doesn't have to mean stop"), and wondered what it was really suggesting. of course, that's only my interpretation, but i think that the message underneath the ad is one that is communicated often.

the second is something i've wanted to work on for a while, and something that i'm certainly not finished with. i think it speaks to us all, male and female, because i think we are all hooked in one way or another. women are hooked into believing the images of "beauty" they see, and men are hooked into the same as well as the idea that women are something to hehold in the eye, something to be purchased and lusted after. we've learned to see them as objects, not people, even in the magazines that are supposedly for women. pornography is something that grips millions of men, a dark corner in almost every man i know's heart (including my own) is this battle for our minds. do we allow media and the voices around us to shape our view of women, or do we see them as daughters of God? do we view them as something to obtain, just like cars and watches, or do we view them as God's display of beauty and grace? it's a battle we fight daily, it's a struggle that both men and women need to recognize and work with one another to overcome this darkness.

the cutest boy ever

i have the cutest nephew in the entire world. click the 'twopinklines' link to the right to see some photos about him and read what his mommy has to say.

what a night..

I have had the craziest night. No, seriously. It's now 3:32, and I just got home. I should be in bed, as I have to get up at 8am, but I feel the need to write this while it's fresh on my mind.

Tonight, the state of North Carolina took the life of Patrick Moody. As usual, I was at the prison to prayerfully protest this state sanctioned murder. What was unusual about the night was that due to my director having pneumonia, and my fellow intern being on the road to Boston, I was the only PFADP staff person at the vigil. I was okay with this until this afternoon. I started to feel a bit anxious about the night, but figured everything would be okay. We arrived at the prison at 9pm, as usual, and started the prayer liturgy. The police had completely gated off the area we were to stand in, had a huge generator-powered spotlight tower, and tons and tons of officers in uniform standing at the entrance to the prison. Okay, a bit more effort than they usually put in, but that didn't seem too out of place. Things were going fine until two men showed up in the crowd, trying to get everyone's attention. The younger of the two spoke loudly, saying "I understand you are all here using your right to free speech. Now I'd like to use mine. The Bible says that the wages of sin is death...." I knew where this was going, and I could sense a few people in the crowd becoming very angry that this man was disrupting our peaceful prayer service. I immediatly rushed over to the man, and said "Can I please have a word with you?" He replied "I'm trying to speak," to which I said, "Yes, I know, but can I have a word with you?" I explained to him that we had obtained a permit to peacefully protest, and that it was invasive of him to come and preach among us. I told him I was a Christian, and that as a brother in Christ, I was asking him to please let us pray in peace. I said I thought the Spirit was moving among us, and that I'm sure he doesn't want to hinder the Spirit. He disagreed and said "Well the police said I could speak" and went over to get one of the police officers. The older man of the two, whom we later discovered to be the father-in-law, stayed next to me and I pleaded with him to just let us pray in peace. He said "well that's what we'll do," shook my hand, got his son-in-law, and they left. I was stunned. I couldn't believe that I had kept my cool so well and that these guys were actually leaving.

This only lasted an hour or so. The younger man came back, this time alone, without his somewhat sensible father-in-law. He was standing on the outside of the gated area we were restricted to, and began preaching at us again. He wasn't hateful, just disrespectful in his timing. I wasn't sure if I could jump over the fence the police had set up to talk with the man, so I called one of the officers over to ask him why this man was allowed to stand on the other side and preach to us. I asked if they could tell him to move along, to which I got some lame explanation about how "that right there is Raleigh City property and we are State troopers here to guard the state property (the prison). Well this was a lame excuse seeing as how there was no visible line to where the state and Raleigh seperated, and I was becoming very frustrated. The crowd listened patiently to the street preacher while I talked more with the police and finally the man left, but not after having a few words with me (or rather I with him).

By now I was thinking the night was out of my control. Things weren't really falling apart, but I just felt so frustrated that this man had come and had the audacity to interrupt our prayers with loveless preaching. Then, God showed up.

The whole night, I had noticed a man running past where we were standing. After a few times, I found it very odd that this man was running at such a late hour, especially passing by our spot several times. I even pointed this out to several people, laughing at how absurd it was to run in the cold in the wee hours of the morning like that. Then, God showed me how He delights in absurdity.

The man who had been running came into our crowd, and I saw him asking some people something. They pointed him to me, and he came over and asked if he could share something with us. By now, I was very suspicious and I asked him what it was he wanted to share. He said "My name is George. I just want to stand in solidarity with you." This reassured me and I told him to share what was on his mind. He pulled out a sheet of paper, and spoke the most poignant words I have heard since attending these vigils. He explained to us that the entire night, he had been running a loop around Central Prison as his own form of prayerful protest. He explained that running was a time when he prayed, worshipped, and felt drawn to God. He told us how he opposed what was happening in the building in front of us, and how he could not imagine Jesus would inject Patrick Moody with poison. He told us that following Christ isn't safe, that he wasn't safe running the streets of Raleigh at night, that his wife and kids weren't necessarily safe at home, that Jesus never promised us following him would be safe or secure, but that we are to be obedient. And so he was running, standing in solidarity with us, and he shared his brief but beautiful statement of faith and kept on running. I can only explain George by saying that I believe with all my heart that God was misrepresented in the street preacher, and that He sent one of His servants to set things straight. And that he did. I have seen God tonight. His Spirit descended on that small crowd of faithful, and He did so in the most absurd way. And that is why I love Him and must give my all to Him.

by the way

i'm going to start saving for one of these .. i think that would be nice. then i can take pictures like the above.

this little piggy said a bad word

I've been trying lately to cut back on how much I swear, something which is a fairly new bad habit of mine. I've had mild success, until something happens like what just happened. My bed is very simple, consisting of a metal frame, a box spring, and a mattress. I don't mind simplicity. I actually like my bed. However, having an old metal frame has its disadvantages. Case in point: I was walking by the bed and ran my foot right into the corner of the frame, thus putting a nice little gash in my right foots pinkie toe. As much as I have been trying to will myself not to swear, I could not help but let a loud "SHIT!" escape my lips (along with maybe a few others). Needless to say, this is a problem that I would like to work on, but honestly, "darn" just doesn't cut it anymore for me. I need to find some words that carry the same level of exclamation without the negative side effects. In the meantime, I'm not sure if it's broken or not, but my pinkie toe hurts like hell (that one doesn't count, it's biblical).

art is hard

I really need to create art more often. It is something I truly enjoy and yet somehow I don't do it as often as I should.

I have all these things I'd like to put down in writing, and yet I'm very tired and emotional as of late, and once I begin, it's hard to focus. But it would probably be worthwhile.

and we will drown your hate with the clapping of hands and plucking of the banjo

When I was at Appalachian State, there was a crazy preacher, Gary Birdsong, who would stand on Sanford Mall (he is also notorious on campuses throughout NC and the southeast) and preach hellfire to students as they walked to class. People would gather around him, sometimes in the hundreds, and argue with him or just laugh at him. I ran across this photograph of wikipedia.com, which has an amusing description of Gary, and I think it represents the Appalachian response very well. Seeing this picture makes me realize why I love Boone so much.