go on humming

soaked and seeped in

2010-02-13T12:01:00.000-08:00

Images.

My new favorite way to "waste time" has been searching for and swimming in images.
There is something sweet and savory about finding pictures and photos full of the colors I've been craving.

If you don't have compfight.com bookmarked yet... now is a great time to.

It's a search engine that finds images from flickr. amazing!

Can't get enough of this band!

2010-01-11T13:17:00.000-08:00

I know this music is a little rough around the edges...
A handlebar mustache.
A sea foam green electric guitar.
Harmonica and an Upright Bass.
PBR and flannel muscle shirts.
A little bit nerd. A little bit hick.
A lot a bit Rock n' Roll.

At first I wasn't so sure, but now I am hooked.
I love jamming to them in my '88 Benz on the Vegas freeway.
Big blue skies and tall mountains hugging the horizon on all sides.
His rich raspy voice and the jangly guitar put an instant smile on my face.

Enjoy!

DEER TICK

Flikr!

2009-08-07T12:52:00.000-07:00

I finally made time to create a flikr!

I've been experimenting with my Canon AE 1. It's a challenge. Focus. F/Stop. Shutter speed. Exposure. Flash? No flash? Enough light? Forgot to wind the film...Again! And seriously, what is aperture?? Learning.

But there is a certain romance in film. not knowing what the moment I captured is going to look like. Letting the film do mysterious things... looking through the 24 exposures and thinking, "That's it?" With digital, photos are plentiful. Photo after photo and the ability to correct mistakes right away. My humble 35mm camera doesn't show me my pictures right away, and only snaps 24 frames- but still. It is a little bit magic, and I'm not giving up on it.

The other thing is, nowadays you can get a cd with your film pictures on it! Even more magic, really. So it's the best of both worlds!

Hope you enjoy!

http://www.flickr.com/photos/tobielizabeth/

The bottom half

2009-06-01T12:02:00.000-07:00

Youtube Debut!

2009-05-06T15:30:00.000-07:00

I like to make myself busy and I like to learn. So this semester I took a Film Noir class. It was SO FUN. We read a lot of 1940's crime novels (Authors like Raymond Chandler, Horace McCoy, James M. Cain, Kenneth Fearing, and Dashiell Hammett) and watched their films. Considering I didn't even know what it was when my friend asked if I wanted to take the class with her, I learned a lot!

This is a genre that I have become totally intrigued with...
The fatalism, the femme fatale, the anti hero, the sucking of cigarettes like candy, the dark alleyways and dark deeds, the stranger in the shadows, and the stiletto-tongue dialogue dripping with ambiguity.
How can you not like it?

Our final project for the class was so open ended- so my classmate Oliva and I decided to make our own film noir.
If you have seven minutes to spare (and can make it through our amateur acting) you should watch it!
Disclaimer: Of course our film had to be a little scandalous...you've been warned ;)

Big Brother

2009-02-28T17:20:00.000-08:00

Two nights ago I remembered how much I love my brother, Todd.
He is pretty awesome as far as big brothers go. He of course, would say something like, "You think too highly of me, Tobi. I'm not that great of a guy." Something to that extent. He is always denying his greatness...

Back to two nights ago. Thursday night at work while begging the time to move faster, I was crawling out of my skin. Anxious to get out of there- and anxious to get out on the town. I stood stiffly behind the counter, elbows propped on the counter top supporting my dead weight. I wanted to run through the automatic doors bursting into the cold night to party!! The whole time Mama Mia! songs sang loudly across the store at me. I saw myself singing and dancing in sync with Abba on the tropical beaches. 9:00 pm finally! came. I closed the store as quickly as humanly possible and trotted to my car. I wasn't quite sure what kind of shenanigans I was going to get into, but I couldn't wait.

Then I got home.

My brother was playing a computer game with his headphones on, my cousin was at work. I walked into my room and suddenly changed my mind. Instead of heels and lipstick I put on slippers and my comfiest long sleeve shirt. I walked into the living room and plopped onto the couch with a book. My brother took off his headphones and sat in the big chair next to me. A few minutes of occasional quite conversation went by while the talk radio I accidentally left on in my room drifted into the living room and put us both to sleep.
Not sure why...but just sitting with Todd falling asleep was the most peace I have had in a while. It made me realize how much he means to me, and how those kind of moments have been too few lately.

I am always running. Working hard, playing hard. But Todd is teaching me how to enjoy just sitting. Even though he doesn't know it.
And even though he would deny I could learn any lessons from him.

I always am.

(this is my handsome brother. Always a peaceful sleeper.) :)

Teaching Metaphors

2009-02-15T22:54:00.001-08:00

This is called a voice thread. They are pretty cool if you ask me. However, I don't have a mic on my computer, so you have to deal with the text. So, I guess it's more like a "text thread?"
Anyway, this was for an assignment in one of my methods classes. But it was fun and I thought I would share it.
Hope you like it!

(Ps: All Polaroids taken by me. :) The first three were with very old film, and the last one was with new film. I didn't know the age of the film impacted the color of the photo so much! Weird, huh?)

Oh, summer...

2009-01-21T00:33:00.001-08:00

These photos have been sitting in my camera for half a year.

Oops.

But, it was a fun road trip with great friends. And it makes me really miss the beach, mimosas, talking about God with random men in bars, thinking I was too good for sunscreen and getting owned by the sun, one-legged pigeons, getting lost, the best girls ever, and smoking too many cloves with them...

ROOTED, BUT STILL FLOATING

2009-01-18T14:55:00.000-08:00

(This is a piece that I wrote last semester in my "Teaching writing" course. It is an assignment that allows students to write about something they are sure to have an opinion about, their names. The assignment was inspired by the first chapter in Sanda Cisneros' book, The House on Mango Street. Read it if you get a chance. It is a favorite. So, this is what I wrote about my name. And since I haven't written anything on this blog in a while, thought I would share it).

My name is Tobi. Tobi spelled with an “i.” No, it’s not short for anything. And yes, it is in fact my real name. Found in a baby book of names, but chosen to match the two-day-old unnamed baby girl my parents took turns coddling in their hospital room. Chosen because I looked like a Tobi and not the Amy they had planned on. Chosen because it was simple to say but maintained a depth in meaning. It meant something in Hebrew my parents live by: “God is good.” And chosen to compliment my middle name, Elizabeth.

Tobi Elizabeth; a perfect pairing. “Tobi” bounces, and flutters, and sometimes splashes. Not the average girl’s name and unappreciated by “spell-check.”. A little unpredictable, and not quite as simple as it sounds. It is crisp like green apples. And playful on the weekends. Given by parents who longed and loved and whispered encouragements to a bright-eyed girl facing a hard world. As Tobi I’m not always quite sure who I am, but I hold my own and go my own way with confidence.

My middle name is rooted in family, and it in turn keeps me rooted. Elizabeth was proudly passed on from my mother’s side. Generations of women have had “Elizabeth” tucked somewhere in their namesake. A tradition born in England, that sailed the cold Atlantic to Boston, that lived through the blood and tears of the Revolutionary war, that waltzed, jitter-bugged, jived and swung. Elizabeth is rich in history, seeped in tradition, passed on in hope. It is the rouge red lips and cigarettes of my Nana Betty. The deep brown eyes of my mother fading green but always sparkling. It warms like hot black tea on a cold damp morning. And romances like red wine.

I am a shared story; a new take. I am not the name of your uncle’s favorite dog, a country singing cowboy, Spiderman, or Kunta Kinte. I am Tobe, Tobi-one-kenobi, Toblerone, Tobi obi obi, Tobi the tiger, Tobi Bird, Tobilina, Tobster and Tobes. I am that girl who idealizes the past, the golden haze of old eras, vinyl records and pencil skirts, and black and white family photos fading. I am that girl who hopes hard for the present. And I am that girl who always floats towards future.

words scribbled on scratch paper, sipping cold ginerale through tears on a stuffy plane ride home

2008-09-30T00:31:00.000-07:00

Not many things are as constant as I wish they were.
Growing up in Las Vegas means things always changing.
Heavy orange construction cones- cranes and work speeding zones- hard hats- hard faces.
Houses built too quick for care- but not quick enough for flooding families. Then foreclosure floods the families out.
Moving out and "moving forward." But it mostly feels like I'm just falling. Friendships fading. People leaving. God feels far away...

It's hard when places I expect to be the same have changed too.
But I'm learning that's okay. It's okay to grow and move and adapt.
This weekend I watched my gorgeous roommate Lauren beam in her wedding dress--so obviously smitten. Honestly, she glowed.
I visited with old friends. It wasn't easy or ideal. But it was good. It was really good. But somehow I was caught up in my own change that I forgot to expect change in the people I left.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
But in the middle of it all I knew we still loved each other.
Some had moved away, some had moved on, some had more going on inside of them that kept them far away. But the friendships we shared can't be lost.
Change can't swallow a love that intense. It is too deep. Too real. Too much a part of who we are. We will all move on. I think that is inevitable. We will all move away. We will all have more going on inside of us that keeps us far.
But I think we'll all constantly know that we are brothers and sisters. Family----
And the strong arms of our savior will keep us stable.

woman shoes

2008-09-06T15:42:00.000-07:00

Why are high heels so awkward?
I think it's because I feel like a fake when I wear them.
Like I'm pretending to be something else.
The click-clack echo on tile is my mom. The way I would find her in the grocery store.
Not me.
Until today. Today I wore heels. All day.
My friend Ashley says I "dressed up like a woman."
Awkward.
Clumsy.
Fake.

But my little high heel shoes served me well today. They click-clacked the fifteen minute walk from the parking lot to class on campus. They click-clacked into the office at the middle school I will be doing my practicum at this semester, sitting cozy on my feet as I shook the principal's hand. And all over the UNLV campus again, more class, back to my car, off to work into the evening.
The longer my new shoes and me walked together the more confident I became in them.
Maybe I am this person. Kind of sexy, kind of empowered, kind of woman.
Maybe this is like a right of passage. A walk into the life of a professional, a grown-up.
Maybe at getting close to 23 I should feel like this already?? Maybe not.

I think I will always be myself the most in flip flops or ballet flats. blue jeans and t-shirts.
But it's nice to feel a little sophisticated every once and a while.
The teacher in me is coming out. Or maybe it's the adult.
Either way, I think I need to get me some Dr. Scholls foot care products.
Women are absurd for wearing those things all day long.

For you Eyes

2008-05-28T20:13:00.000-07:00

Her name is
Seonna Hong.
Please look and click.

Her paintings from "Our Endless
Summer Days" are quietly tragic,
and luring.

Like catching bad dreams in jars
and carefully carrying them in your
purse to keep them close.

We like to wander.

2008-05-20T15:41:00.000-07:00

We don't live where grass grows like this.

Or where clumsy barbed wire fences get good and rusty.

Our cousin-aunt penny's wedding was celebrated in a
humble Town Hall,
Miniature horses with glitter painted hooves carted kids
and head-butting hay eating goats
collected crowds in the back.
We wandered, and trespassed, and stepped in multiple gopher holes.
We were out of place, but we made ourselves at home.

Good food, Good music, Good friends.

2008-04-16T22:36:00.000-07:00

Kyle, John, Maggie, Monica, and I smooshed into Maggie's car and road-tripped it to Los Angeles. Hollywood, to be exact.
We went to go see Nada Surf play- and it was an amazing show!
We stopped in and ate at Zankou Chicken. Sooo good! It's a famous Lebenese chicken joint with happy pink and yellow benches. Just look how happy Kyle is!
We also found Pink Berry frozen yogurt. Equally as yummy and bathed in neon goodness.

Good times.

last bits

2008-04-16T22:11:00.000-07:00

Every time I am able to see friends who live far away I collect memories to take home with me. Last time, I got to leave with more than memories. My nails were painted poppin' Sienna Pink, by the girl herself. She painted them for me as we sat and talked in chapel listening to the jazz band play and watching happy people flirt and frolick on stage painting the set for the upcoming musical. I knocked the bottle of nail polish over- a piece of the chapel carpet is now poppin' Sienna pink too.

It has all flaked off by now. Kept me distracted at work while I chipped away at it, and often led my wondering mind back to memories of dear ones.

A Cheerio

2008-04-04T15:12:00.000-07:00

These aren't my words, but for anyone who hasn't lived surrounded by mountains- this is a pretty accurate description of how surreal the feeling is:

"There's something comforting about being surrounded by mountains on all sides. It's like being the last cheerio in the bowl of milk. When I travel, the mountains are the first thing I notice to be missing from the new landscape. In New York, Miami and D.C., it is the pancake flatness that makes me feel like the sky has been smeared on a little too thick.
Everyday, the interplay of sun and Vegas mountains delivers infinite permutations of awe: watching the sun rise up over the Strip while heading home from afterhours on the I-15 North. And then, as it sets, noticing how it first lights up the mountains to the east, darkening the sky to a deep bruise-purple, while to the west, it is reversed, plunging Red Rock and Mt Charleston into darkness while the clouds take on sherbet colors in the twilight.
I know I could probably have any one of these gifts elsewhere and maybe even with a little water thrown in, but to have that powerful, thought-provoking, we're-all-just-little-Cheerios feeling available to me everyday is a guilty pleasure I just can't fathom trading in for a little thing like the ocean."

(From the Las Vegas Weekly, -Xania Woodman)

I know my friends in the East love their trees- but sometimes they've got nothing on my mountains and big western sky that glows purple at night over the twinkling city.
So I guess Vegas isn't all that bad after all.

Music!

2008-03-04T11:30:00.000-08:00

I like to check out the Urban Outfitters Blog to see what's going on in the Art/Music/Fashion culture across the country.
I just watched their video featuring their Spring collection- and my little ears went nuts listening to the tune!

I can't figure out how to post the video on my blog, but click here to listen!

M. Ward & Zooey Deschanel are making music together and it's lovely! First, who doesn't love M. Ward? And I fell in love with Zooey Deschanel's voice after watching Elf- so the combo is as tasty as coffee and pie. Their band is called She & Him. I think the album is going to be released on March 18. Let me know what you think!

in the middle

2008-02-16T01:13:00.000-08:00

So, my fifth metatarsal is fractured.
It has been crying for attention inside my temporary cast for the last thirteen days.

But what's killing me is the crutches. I hobble everywhere I go. But I still go. Despite my clumsiness. I slip, and trip, and regularly the crutches crash around me. As if the crutches alone aren't enough to turn heads, I like to make sure people really know I am in the room with my crashing and squealing .

But they do give me an unusual sense of determination.

For example:

February 13- I left my journalism class at 10pm. It was like walking into a vortex. All the power was out on the streets. Traffic lights were out. Mailboxes were tipped over. Sirens were sounding in the distance. Dust kept pegging me like sandpaper while I struggled to my car. Miscellaneous objects were flying by in the wind gusts.
Sitting in my car somewhat catatonic and apathetic, the world in chaos outside my quiet windows- something hit me.

A craving for cupcakes. Perfect, pretty, pink cupcakes. The kind you see in daydreams, where the light is all kind of fuzzy and soft. And sprinkles. Rainbow sprinkles.

In the next six hours, I could only see cupcakes. It didn't matter my sides were bruised and my skin was raw from crutches. Or that my foot was broken. It didn't matter that I was still in this make-shift cast, or that worker's comp seems to be a myth. It didn't matter that it was 4 in the morning, or that winds were topping at 67mph. I didn't care. I didn't care about those things which an hour earlier were weighing on me.

So I went to the grocery store and hopped down the isles, filling my bag with some last minute ingredients. I bounced in my tiny kitchen, mixing bright pink strawberry batter from scratch. I creamed the butter and the sugar. I beat the eggs, mixed the milk. Stirred in the coconut extract. Mixed the frosting to a creamy pink perfection. Pinched rainbow sprinkles on every last perfect cupcake. All 40 of them.
Yep. 40 cupcakes filled my fridge, waiting for the morning while I slept like a girl on Christmas Eve- reluctant to fall asleep but too helpless to ignore her soft warm bed.

Valentine's Day- My cupcakes and I were going to conquer this Hallmark holiday, and really make my friends smile, and say "these cupcakes are divine!"

And then, while I sitting outside before class, enjoying the air and trees and my cupcake high
- a bird pooped on me.
Ya.
A big fat, wet green and white surprise splatted on my sleeve.
So now here I am.
Somewhere in between pink frosting and bird poop.

I think I might be losing my mind.

2007-08-30T16:30:00.000-07:00

Basically,
three part time jobs,
moved into an apartment,
school, school, school.

I don't have a computer at my apartment,
so I haven't been able to blog.
Plus, I'm crazy for taking three literature classes,
plus various others.
It's only the first week and I'm overwhelmed.

Also, Having MAJOR cell phone issues. Lost it on campus
a week ago- was sent a replacement, it was defective- was
sent another replacement, it was also defective- cried.

so to sum up: I'm totally disconnected and going slightly
insane. I'm so sorry if anyone has tried to get in touch with
me! I'm not ignoring you, i promise. And I'm not writing this
to complain. It's mostly self-inflicted. But I needed to let you
all know I've been thinking about you in the midst of everything
else. I miss you.

Rain!

2007-08-01T12:26:00.000-07:00

For the past week or so the sky has been teasing me.
It's never cloudy here. Never. Okay, maybe like 20 days out of the year- but that's it really.
And it rains even less often. So those of you blessed enough to have clouds in your life
every day might not understand how much they change everything.

In "drink thy wine" style:
deed: If you smell rain and see lightening, but it's not raining- grab a good cd. get in your car. drive towards the darkest most ominous clouds in the sky. When you find a good rain- park. Leave your windows cracked. Make sure to fill your lungs with the deliciousness of the smell of warm rain. Take pictures, and read a good book.

One incredible week.

2007-07-29T17:54:00.000-07:00

"Often my life is like a spinning top Hurtling through the days,
Spinning, Spinning, Spinning,
Savoring nothing,
Threshing air and noise.
Then, suddenly, unbalanced, thrown, my ground is gone
My dance is done,
Slowly unwinding
I fall,
Stunned,
Stilled,
Into the steady arms
Of God."

I didn't write this, but I feel it. I am a spinning top. Even when God holds me tight, I am so restless. I wish this wasn't true.

It's been a few weeks, but the experience and blessing of being a part of a summer camp called PYA (YXL) is still fresh on my heart- keeping it tender. It was at camp that God let me fall into His steady arms. God shook all of us at camp. The words we heard hit us- pierced us. It was like feeling the ache and pain and sadness of the world, the depth and darkness of sin, of our own hearts... we are just so broken. It was a little like being suffocated the first few nights- like being drowned. So much grief and brokenness, just flooding into the room and our hearts, stealing the breath from our lungs. Really. We all knew that "Jesus" was going to be the answer- but it was becoming hard to believe the answer to such crisis could be so easy. And questioning that, while our hot and angry tears kept falling, was like war.
We're in total need. We hunger for redemption. All the world is trying to get a hold of it, despairing to the point of death. But we have a father who raises from the dead! Help showed up- and is still stretched out to us! Out of what seemed like unquenchable darkness came light. Jesus experienced every betrayal and loss I ever will. The world will rest on Jesus' shoulders. We will have intimacy with Him forever.
It is rescue.
It is being held in His strong arms.

Being home is hard. Always hard. We (or maybe it is just me) become apathetic and isolated. Even though we are guaranteed to see each other every Sunday- maintaining authentic, compassionate, and selfless relationships with one another gets swallowed by the mess of our everydays. We can lack unity and passion. I lack commitment to unity and passion. At camp we became stripped of selfishness, stripped of pretense. Just remembering the warm feeling of connection- the intimacy of being cluttered in a mess of pushed together chairs, bumping knees, and holding hands in prayer encourages me to fight for a community like that here at home.
But I am a spinning top.

It is frustrating wanting to make instant changes. I'm learning patience, and total reliance. And that the attitude of my own heart is where change needs to start. But it not something easily changed. At least not by my effort. So pray for us. Please, please, please.

I also have to say that I loved ALL of my campers! There were some kick a' kids, like always. And the ENTIRE staff and co-counselors were so encouraging and wonderful. It was just really a HUGE blessing. And it rained almost every day! and the clouds were stunning. Wow. New Mexico is such a beautiful place.

So that is my update! :) Sorry it took so long!

My team! The best.

Everyone. My beautiful family.

More Polaroid Moments

2007-07-02T17:31:00.000-07:00

I've had my Polaroid camera out again! Most of these pictures were taken with or of my 12 year old cousin Mariah. She lives in about 8 hours away, so we don't get to see each other very often. Her parents are in Austria on a missions trip, so for the last 11 days we've gotten to hang out. More words to follow describing those 11 days. For now, enjoy these shots!
Mariah in her natural state.
Oh, this cell phone...

So catchy.

2007-06-26T14:21:00.000-07:00

The Eames Era

I can't get this song out of my head!
If you won't mind having it stuck in yours too,
click here to listen to "Could Be Anything."

And click here to listen to "Watson on Your Side."

I need help to stand

2007-06-21T16:46:00.000-07:00

Today I'm finding comfort in things. Things like my soft pillow convincing me to stay in bed and ignore my alarm, the fresh pineapple and black coffee my mom sent me out the door with, running off the high of a good moment with my dad last night, the simplicity of a good worn t-shirt and blue jeans, depositing my first paycheck from my new job, a good lunch with my brother, hearing his words and knowing I need to listen to them, sitting in my cool room with an oscillating fan humming and the sad piano of The Good Life playing through my stereo. (it's a long list, and growing).

But even in all of these good things, I've been feeling a little lost lately- and it really just crept up on me.

I've just been running. Running and re-fueling. (Ask my gas tank). And even though the love of my family and good friends washes over me everyday like a good cold wave- I've been lonely.

I've been convincing myself lately that I have complete clarity of mind. That I know what I'm doing. That I can handle it.
But really?
I don't and I can't.

It's a strange ability I have to look around, assessing the situation and say, "this is fine. Ya, this looks okay." When what I'm looking at is my feeble, wobbling legs, knees knocking together, trying to stand up straight on a steep steep slope that's slick and stabs upward while I slide violently downward towards disaster. That's a long analogy, but does it paint a picture of how I've been feeling?

I guess I’ve just been realizing that I blame everything on the situation that I’m in. (Often, it’s what I get myself into).

I don't mean to turn this blog into a confessional. Maybe I shouldn't be spilling my guts, but I want to be able to be more honest than, "things are fine. I ate cereal for breakfast, and traffic sucks as usual."

(I have been writing this a little bit everyday, not knowing what direction I was going in, but knowing I just needed to write. It's been sitting as a "draft" for about a week.
Today I found direction).

It's simpler than I thought.
I need Jesus. I fail without him. He came to do what I can't, what none us of can. I'm weaker than I ever before believed, but I'm also more loved and accepted than I could ever hope for. I'm not okay when I look for fulfillment in other places; and I had been.

But I have hope. I have hope that Jesus is carrying me to the end.

The Radio Dept.

2007-06-21T16:04:00.000-07:00

A humble little band for Sweden.
I like them. Please listen.

Click here!
And then click here too :)

And I am working on some words (as I am listening to this song, actually), but writing hasn't been easy lately. I blame the heat. The average temperature this week? 108 degrees. Yep...

Some one else's Polaroids

2007-06-13T16:43:00.000-07:00

I wish I had taken these.

He took a lot more too. Go to his website.
http://www.mikaelkennedy.com/
Or go to his blog.
http://downorout.blogspot.com/

torn

2007-06-02T01:22:00.000-07:00

I should be in bed right now. Even though the only thing I am waking up to in the morning is a good strong cup of coffee and a Saturday morning thrift store/ yard sale outing with my dad. But I am compelled to post.

A lot of things have been going on. A new job, (I get to wear a tie!), running around getting my health card and alcohol management card, spending wonderful time with my friends and family, trying to read everyday like I promised myself I would, and being very very broke. Bills keep flying in from everywhere, and my credit card taunts me from my wallet. And my "welcome back to UNLV?" $90 worth of past unpaid parking tickets. wonderful. "Do you take a credit card? and please don't put a boot on my car."

I've been putting off posting. I've figured out why. I want to be able to show you everything. Capture it all through photograph. But I'm terrible at taking pictures. And Sienna said best what I've been feeling.

"Every second in this city is a million words and it's impossible to choose which second to remember and then share with the rest of us."

Tonight I went downtown to the Art District with my friend Shannon for Vegas' monthly event called First Friday. It is definitely a million words. All the old and weather worn buildings still show off their brightly colored walls. The fonts on every store sign and billboard scream retro fabulous. Tucked in between dusty antique stores and old friendly auto repair shops are tiny un-airconditioned shops converted into art galleries. The streets flood with the most colorful people this city has to offer, who all thrive off of the loud live music, the art (which isn't always inspiring, but sometimes is), the movement, the diversity, the feeling of community, and the warm summer night air. The whole night I clutched my camera, determined to capture it all. But I couldn't let myself turn the camera on. For some reason it felt like taking pictures would've turned me into a spectator instead of a participant. And I realized that's why I'm not good at taking pictures. I just don't want to live my life from behind a view finder. But I'm torn because I see so many things that should be captured in a photo.

I feel like all my posts should have photos. They add to the story. But I don't have any new one's to share really, that will tell you anything. (Ergo, the reason I haven't posted).
But here are some of my favorite old pictures taken from my camera that I can share instead. :)

you'll have to ask.

sleepy big brother.

breakfast.

Nevada landscape. It has it's own beauty.

Night driving at dusk in the rain.

Chinese market.

mom and dad.

short red hair.

kindred spirits.

I'll tap the break while you crack the window

2007-05-18T18:37:00.000-07:00

Just sitting has been a new and unexpected revolution. There is something about being still. Even (and sometimes especially) if this “being still” is being done in a moving car.

In the midst of my consistent movement and running around, and through all of my “to do” lists on bright sticky notes splattered over every surface, my times of just sitting have carried me through this week.

At first being home was hard. It was strange sitting with my friends and feeling like a stranger. It was frustrating sitting in traffic in my hot car with dark brown vinyl seats as the blinding Vegas sun blazed off of every shiny surface into my eyes. It was disheartening sitting in my room staring at the mountain of clothes on the floor burying my suitcases. (No, I am not unpacked yet). It was hard to sit, because sitting meant being forced to think, and being forced to think meant having to make the transition I’ve been too stubborn to make. I didn’t want to be content. I just wanted to be distracted. It worked for a little while… but like always God has a way of lifting me out of my bubble and showing me the bigger picture-

It happened first when my cousin Melissa and I were on our way home one night from our friend’s high school musical “Annie.” By the time the play had finished, it was late and we were tired. We shuffled into my car, rolled down the windows and turned up the music. It was a long day, and our beds were calling out to us. We got onto the interstate and took the exit that would put us on the freeway that would take us home. But my tires didn’t float over the on-ramp, and we didn’t feel the cool night air whip through our hair-- We were stopped. In front of us was a road lit up by miles of menacing break lights. Unfortunately construction always gets the best of you in Las Vegas. Melissa has road rage, so I was glad that I was driving, but it was becoming difficult holding in my frustration. Melissa had some choice words about the situation, and about that time I couldn’t help but just laugh as the words from the play we had just seen came to mind… so I serenaded Melissa with “The sun will come tomorrow, bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there’ll be sun…” We both burst into giggles as we typically do. The rest of the drive (more like the inching every 10 minutes) was so peaceful. Other cars were honking, but Melissa and I just smiled and laughed, and turned the music even louder. Sitting in the tunnel the song “Don’t worry, be happy” echoed through the air, we weren’t shy about sharing our cheer with the group. Forty minutes later (and two cd’s later) we broke free, and finally got to feel the cool, soft night air in our hair, and coasted home while The Knife played through the speakers and sang to the city.

A friend’s words describe what I’ve really discovered this week, “Happiness is being content where you are.” Driving has been a happier experience lately. If you’ve ever lived in a city, especially an overpopulated and a hot city, you know the frustration that comes with driving anywhere. But even if I’m sitting still in traffic, and sweating like no other, and sticking to my seat, and squinting my eyes, and burning my fuel and tapping on the break in heavy traffic, I’m just happy to be home. And happy that God has given me new eyes to see this city with.

snail mail, I promise it's coming!

2007-05-17T18:21:00.001-07:00

Happy Birthday Sienna!!
I'm not really even sure if it is still your birthday in
Norway, but this still counts. I just wanted to tell you

to be watching your mailbox...

for something special!

But please don't read the customs label! It will
give everything away.

Oh, and I wanted to tell you, I registered for
a Philosophy class in the fall, and my professor's
last name is Lindland! The funny thing is, I went
on ratemyprofessors.com and a lot of his past
students said that he is hot. :) So,
I am guessing he must be from Norway.
Miss you!

Some Polaroids- old and new

2007-05-11T18:46:00.000-07:00

My first year as a counselor at PYA (2005)

More PYA love. This is Andrea Beckman, 2005.

Mom and Dad in front of my favorite olive tree.

Melissa, dressed as a disco ball, doing the sprinkler.
priceless. (2006)

My big brother, Todd. I love him.

Melissa and Maren

(the girl in the glasses is my soon to be roomie, Monica)

cluttered college desk.

Last day with Katie. Saying goodbye is hard.

Sienner!! I love you so much.
That room is so special to me, i miss it too.

Kyrie... you are too beautiful.

Boys in the loft... always climbing.

Chels, Kyrie, and Beyoff on the tramp.
The first one to go up on my wall.

I really wish i had been able to take more of these
before the year ended. But I'm grateful I at least
remembered to take a few.

I-40 West

2007-05-09T23:13:00.000-07:00

I have too much to say, and have been almost defeated by the different waves of emotion I've felt in the last week. Coming home feels different this time. As I drove across our big country towards home with Katie in her tiny car heavy with baggage but singing with good music, it was like the landscape was melting the further West we got. Like everything I had known, had clothed myself in over the last year, was melting off with every mile marker. It was saying goodbye. And it was hard. It wasn't like flying home. When I fly home, I hibernate for 4 hours in a dimly lit cabin, being called out of it by the Las Vegas lights beaming through the window, telling me I'm home. This experience allowed me to believe that Lookout Mt, Georgia really wasn't that far away.

But it is far away. Knowing that I'm not going back makes me feel more distant than ever. And the feeling of distance makes me incredibly sad because I've left behind the most amazing friends, who I deeply love and respect. This was the first wave-

But when we came to the top of a hill in New Mexico, still driving on good old I-40 West, the sight off that first big western mountain stabbing up at the horizon just about knocked tears out of me. It was beautiful. It became a gravitational pull that made me race for home. The first thing I wanted to do was run through my front door and into my dad's arms and hear him say, "I missed you, Bubba," followed by a tearful hug from my mom, and a sarcastic remark from my big brother intended to make me smile.

Coming home is different in Vegas. SO many things change so quickly. But my family is like a deeply rooted tree that I can rest under. I'm learning that it's okay to be on my own journey- and that every relationship is rich in value and deep in substance, and is always worth sacrifice.

I don't want to grow up. The future is becoming more present being back at home, and reality is setting in. But I have a growing love for my friends and memories from Covenant. I promise I will come back, because you're my family too... and I expect you to be another big tree I can rest under.