a townhouse and traffic

a new journal

2008-10-08T16:47:00.000-07:00

I felt it was about time to change, so I have officially started a new journal-

adamroper.tumblr.com

I think the purpose / theme/ reason will develop over time. We'll see.

See you there ;)

covers

2008-10-07T12:49:00.000-07:00

When it rains it pours. Everything stressful happens at once. There are a lot of ways to say it, though trying to describe it will make me feel like I'm complaining.

Coffee doesn't help. It's been a tough month, friends.

~

On the bright side, I'm still ridiculously loved, in a 'grace is something I can't comprehend' way.

Later.

non-chalance is no fun

2008-10-05T22:11:00.000-07:00

occurrences:

some friends and I put on a 'storytellers' concert, with songwriting and stories and chocolate fountain. all in all a good time.

I'm going to a concert tomorrow in Vancouver, with David Crowder and Chris Tomlin. I think this will be a good one / very lifechanging.

I spent the better part of my day yesterday on commercial with come friends, shopping for records, visiting stores that smelled really good, one of which was a store that sold only organic (expensive) stuff. For a second I felt like I was dating someone who lived in a downtown loft- sigh (I have a weird imagination).

My roommate and I are making homemade alcohol- a wine made with honey and oranges. Yes, this is a good idea (later on we can say 'yes. it was a good idea at the time').

Feeling somewhat drab. I'm trying to think of some ways to fix this, more or less. i.e.- more tea, letter writing, autumn leaf pressing, reading or less movies, staying inside entire days, dwelling on the human condition, dreading any sort of social contact due entirely to my fear of biking in abbotsford traffic (bah! some of life's problems seem to make more sense than others).

Anyway... Good night.

PS - listen to this song.

this way

2008-10-01T16:12:00.000-07:00

if you take me as I am,
I haven't taken that to heart.
If you take me as I am,
I can't take me as I am.

If you take me as I am
did you make me this way?
If you called me to come home,
I haven't taken that to heart.

writing in a library

2008-09-27T11:52:00.001-07:00

The typical life of a college student / me on a saturday morning- sitting on my couch until 11 mulling over Tyler Perry movies with a cup of blackberry tea.

~

A little known secret about me- my mom and her friends and I used to watch Tyler Perry movies, back in the good old days of me going back and forth between here and Nanaimo, before she moved to Washington (Perry's notable film is "Diary of a Mad Black Woman). We saw "Madea's Family Reunion" when it first came out, and there was the whole of 5 of us in the entire theatre.

They are not really good films by any means, but there is the occasional good line that speaks great truth, stuck in the mix of semi-ok acting.

So, while I was watching one of these said films this morning I had a small epiphany- and usually, as I always say, the best epiphanies catch us off guard in unexcpected places (most of my best epiphanies happen when I'm taking a shower. another little known secret).

So here it is- I'm a really cynical person towards aspects of the Christian faith, because I study it at college, and because I grew up in and around it. A friend of mine told me last week that being cynical towards the Church, and the Christian culture, would only be damaging to my character.

Cynicism is not a good thing. In my experience cynism can be defined as judging the acts of the whole based upon negative experiences with a few. In other words, if I was to have a negative experience at a church, I feel like I can judge the Church itself. Or I come across a bad christian movie, and judge all christians because of it.

It's not a healthy way to live, I don't think. Why don't I use energy I waste on being cynical on recognizing the love of community I have instead? Or doing some serious self-examination?

And I'm sure, at the very root of my cynicism, is my own insecurity. I'm not sure how to deal with my hurt, so I project it onto something else- which seems like a very human response to hurt.

Hmm. Thought of the day.

being sick is lame sauce

2008-09-25T13:10:00.000-07:00

True story: I spent 6 hours on monday staring at my computer non-stop trying to figure out how to make print with a book format.

Eventually I found this program called 'Cheap Imposter' and printed a small book, which was easier than dropping a cat... which actually is pretty hard, because cats have claws.

So, I hope to have this small publication out in November at the latest. Its a really scary prospect.

In other news, it's been a hard couple of weeks. Sitting in my 4th year classes I came to the really striking realization that most of my friends from my first year are now married, or engaged, or in relationships. Me and my single friends have been discussing this, trying to avoid immature questions like 'what is wrong with me? why am I still single?"

It's a tough, and really humbling, thing to experience. Every so often life calls us to a deep and profound realization- the reality of marriage, the reality that there are more days behind us than before us. This is one of those I think- Really asking myself if I am mature enough to think about having serious relationships.

Anyway, I wonder. People have told me that as soon as I stop looking for 'someone' I will find them. I've done nothing but look for the past 4-6 years, and it's not getting me anywhere.

Maybe there is something called grace, which is ridiculously beyond my ability to comprehend. Love is not this instant quick fix. Love, and life in general, is a slow process.

Food for thought.

english house

2008-09-17T13:47:00.000-07:00

Yesterday some friends and I made it into Vancouver, to spend some time in local scene stores and watch a concert. The concert in question was 'The Fleet Foxes', who, I think, are going to be huge in the next couple years. They are definitely the most humble, and committed, act I've seen in a long time. Without any pretension to speak of, they played a pretty powerful set. Check them out soon.

That said, in tradition of stories my friends and I on campus are telling these days, I'm going to move backwards from the end.

Before the concert we had breakfast at this dive of a place on Nanaimo street- costing a total of three bucks. Then we made our way to Commercial for a couple hours, where I visited my traditional coffee place for my traditional drink- JJ Bean, medium dark-roast. I was hoping this coffee would make me more aware, and energetic, but instead it made me pretty anxious and blah. Albeit, I stayed up until three am the night before.

On Commercial we checked out a record store, and I picked up Sufjan Stevens' Illinois and Wincing the Night Away by the Shins on vinyl for a reasonable cost. After that we found a retro clothes store, and I picked up my first plaid-esque shirt, thus boosting my credibility as an independant artist slightly (I wish).

After that we found had lunch at an all you can eat taco place, and they charged me too much for my pop- which I am aspiring to not drink- a lofty goal as both a youth worker and a college student.

We found a couple other retro stores near Burrard, and another record store where I found Michigan by Sufjan on vinyl (yes, I spent lots on vinyl that day, and yes I'm still trying to get my vinyl player to actually work. even so...).

From there, the highlight of the day, we walked through a giant building which looked a lot like the roman colleseum, but with a distintive North American design- square shaped windows and archways instead of the traditional arch design. Even so, walking through was a breathtaking experience in itself.

All in all, a good idea. I think the best concerts are those that have the potential to build a strong sense of community. Fleet foxes, although they are getting a lot of buzz recently, didn't come across as a band that was better than us because they have a record, radio time, and venue space.

I think this is one of the reasons why creating art in community is so profound- we seek to create together, instead of creating competitively.

~

In other news, trying to write a book is really hard. I'm hoping to get a lot more writing done this week, i.e. get some inspiration/find something worth capturing.

I'm starting to look into the possibilty of getting help from already published authors, who have been doing this a lot longer than I have. Thus is life.

Later.

organized

2008-09-09T13:48:00.000-07:00

A
Hide in the covers or the
paper sheets,
monsters in the closet,
in the books shelved neatly,

unorganized another minute.

B
Pay a simple bill,
speak a simple word through
the language of a sleepless night-
worrying too much,
not loving myself quite as much
as I used to.

C
It comes back on us like a
winter storm-
that nagging sense of inadequacy,
the fear of not being good enough.

And this simplicity,
this quiet wants me to
take it easier. Alas
I'm too hard on myself, sometimes.

~

"This time of year you always disappear
You tell me not to call,
And when the door is closed you're wearing different clothes
Or hiding in the paper, pretending not to hear"

- Sufjan

I smell like watermelon

2008-09-04T20:39:00.000-07:00

My friend advised me to buy some axe phoenix, and I'm finding that it smells a lot like watermelon. It's weird.

For the first half of my day I smell like fruit.

~

My friends and I were talking about movies, and some ones I really want to see / own soon are

21 grams
The Secret Life of Words
Crash
Mystic River
Persepolis
Bridget Jones 2 (guilty pleasure).

The first three films definately show Matt Dillon, Sean Penn, and Tim Robbins at their best. I mention these films because I do not want to forget.

Confession: I was at a nearby dollar store, and I noticed a rack with cheap movies. So I impulsively bought The Squid & The Whale and Children of Men. These are both great films, though not on my priority list. I am merely a cheapass, and could not resist two movies for $15

Alas. Art is hard to maneuver around.

Take Care

a difficult week

2008-09-02T08:57:00.000-07:00

I'm helping to plan an outdoor concert this friday, which should be good. Planning things of an artistic nature, I have decided, is where I find my joy in life.

Take care.

a critique

2008-08-30T10:08:00.000-07:00

Something I learned from this past week, and from the summer in general, is that we have to get broken before we can get fixed.

For a long time I've had a problem with "Big Revival" meetings in Christian circles, mainly because of the simple truth that every great high is followed by a huge low. The term Revival has become synonymous with extravagant expressions of happiness and well-being. The focus is on receiving, getting something from God.

But, how can we really begin to re-build our lives with such an approach?

I don't think revivals are supposed to be about displays of emotion. Rather, a revival, for me at least, is about breaking down and then being put back together again. When this happens, we realize what is really important in life- not trying to get by pretending everything is ok, or trying to end all life's problems as quickly as possible.

We find God in the 'sacred ordinary'- in the small insignificant details of life that we overlook- not so much in the constant search for the next big thing to come along and complete us (a new car, thousands of dollars, a boyfriend/girlfriend, whatever).

I'm still trying to figure this out myself. I just think, why wait for the next emotional high to feel complete? Is there anything I can find today that expresses something true and real about my life?

~

And, on a similar note, one of the things I'm trying to learn in life is being able to forgive myself. After awhile I just got sick of feeling like garbage because of every stupid thing I do. I know there are a lot of self-help books that push this destructive idea that one can only be happy if one is perfect, all the time.

Sometimes we have to allow ourselves enough grace to just be imperfect. It is not my great skills or abilities that make me a good person, but rather learning to grow in, and love my, imperfections.

Life may just be a little more forgiving that way.

Take care.

keeping to myself a bit too much

2008-08-26T16:25:00.000-07:00

I've figured out, in my five or so years as a youth worker, that the requirements of a youth pastor are:

1) A Stack of CD's from the 90s (think Matchbox 20, or Audio Adrenaline).
2) A Goatee
3) A really hot wife (my theory on youth pastors having attractive wives is that youth pastors have really strong character, and that is what girls like).
4) Blue T-shirts
5) A wealth of random stories which may or may not be transated into bad puns and / or catchy illustrations.
6) A copy of "Velvet Elvis" by Rob Bell.

This is what I think.

It's been a long week so far. I'm doing a leadership training camp at my school, which keeps me to busy to deal with all the hundreds of details that come up in late August (bills, tuition, crushes, prospects. I'm such a guy).

In other news, I'm still trying to reconcile dealing with depression (not in a "poor me, I have depression" way, but in a "I experienced tough things, now I'm doing the mature thing and dealing with them because I have a lot of good to offer" way).

Remind me to elaborate on this subject later. There is much more to say, all of which is hard to capture with unspoken words (aka, words typed).

Later.

any given thursday.

2008-08-21T14:56:00.000-07:00

What is new in life you ask?

a) Finally did the right thing, and bought a mac. This system works famously. It feels like, compared to windows, I was wearing plastic bags on my feet instead of shoes.

b) Finished work last week. Now I'm taking it relatively easy for a week, planning a Lance Odegard concert.

c) Radiohead was, in many ways, the most beautiful concert I have seen. I think the most sacred moment of my summer was standing in the pouring rain, in a crowd of thousands, most of which which probably pretty high, listening to "House of Cards" and "Paranoid Android". It does not get much better than that.

d) The book I started this summer if ridiculously close to being finished. I'm trying to think of the most effective way to get it to my friends who live thousands of miles from me.

d.2) I read 7 novels this summer.

e) Last week I picked four pounds of blackberries. Come over sometime and help me finish them ;).

f) I should really stop using lists.

this writing life

2008-08-13T11:28:00.000-07:00

Insights:

1) The summer is almost done.
2) Writing books is really hard.
3) coffee at 12 am is a poor choice
4) My computer died, and I am wrestling with the ethical implications of purchasing a new one (pay rent or buy laptop? undecided.)
5) I'm starting my last year of school next year. It's scary, thinking about all the places of maturity I feel like I still have not stepped into.

6) This video is super lame, but it's a great song.

Let's continue this conversation. Enjoy.

a summer morning

2008-08-07T09:47:00.000-07:00

Adam is...

1) Writing a book
2) Listening to the new Augustana record
3) Watching 'Once'
4) Trying.
5) Feeling the summer lonelies. Sigh.

6) Eating blueberries.

Take care

I think way too much

2008-07-25T15:29:00.000-07:00

Summer is a very erratic time in life, in terms of keeping ourselves together and knowing exactly where we stand. Summertime seems more like a rush of enjoying whatever life we can, then stopping to think about how we were changing later on.

It sounds wise, but this is really more of a question for me than a statement, acknowledging some kind of arrival. I'm just about ready for summer to be over.

So, this is what I have been upto in the last while:

1) Driving down to the Oregon coast for a couple days. I definitely did not see enough of it.
2) Picking up the new Relient K EP, and more copies of books that were written for the sake of giving away (Blue like Jazz, and Captivating).
3) Sitting in my office for hours.
4) Writing a book. Kind of.
5) Not paying bills.
6) Missing writing. A lot.
7) Planning an outdoor concert for september.

I'm really looking forward to relaxing this weekend, cleaning up and curling up on the couch with a warm blanket to watch 'Dan in Real Life' over a pot of green tea... Although, realistically, I seem to enjoy the idea of moments like these instead of the moments themselves (Grrr. bittersweet irony).

I'm also looking forward to seeing radiohead, in the next couple weeks.

As far as I go, I've been feeling a bit hurt. Maybe it has something to do with me not going home to Nanaimo this summer, or with the fact that I'm giving a talk to my church next month about hurt, introduced with the statement "You won't really find healing unless you admit you are broken" (by you I mean 'I'). I'm sure it has everything to do with being apart from friends too, which is something life demands as a necessity every so often.

How is your summer going, by the way?

Later.

late spring, early summer

2008-07-08T09:26:00.000-07:00

Summer is a really slow time in life, I am discovering. Everyone I know either lives way too far away, or works a lot. And me and all my friends seem to spend our summers growing apart from each other.

Which kind of sucks, in my mind. There is not a lot to write about without friends.

My friend asked me, via a letter, if "it is harder or more hurtful to dream... does it hurt more now than when we were kids because we have lost a significant chunk of our faith/hope"? I'm not completely sure.

Apart from being with people, it is difficult to have faith/hope. I would like to think that when I grow up I'm not going to just lose child-likeness because of too much harsh reality. If anything, I should be allowed to hope for better things, or to hope for the same things in better and creative ways...

as opposed to living a life-less existence of a summer. It is true that creativity is not always valued in the day-to-day summer life of work, but I also think that a lot can be learned from this idea of a 'sacred ordinary'- that there is great truth in the everyday of life.

A long time ago I brought up the idea of a 'grace in imperfection'- almost as if to say that life is enjoyed more imperfectly, not stressing out about the bad stuff but just enjoying it as a whole. For me, thinking about life in these terms just seems to take a great weight off of me, and reminds me that we really should enjoy life... not just 'get through' it.

This is all to say I'm still trying to figure out how to deal with summers, when all the people I really like aren't around to talk about all this with. Summers have always been an inbetween thing for me- lived between the seeing and the missing of friends.

So whatever. In a couple weeks I'm driving down to the Oregon coast for a couple days. If you have any ideas for how I can get creatively inspired these weeks, let me know. I'll do the same.

later

Listening to: John Legend- come home.

in the office, by the phone

2008-07-04T12:27:00.000-07:00

"We are becoming a people accustomed to ugliness. Most people most of the time have strong feelings about beauty, order, and harmony, and at some level are wounded by their absence"

- David Orr, Geez Magazine, Summer 2006.

~

Watching: Paris, je' taime (ah. this movie is like poetry. watch it soon).

sunny days

2008-06-30T12:59:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I think the best way to experience God is to go through something difficult.

PS- It is a really warm day here in Canada.

in the morning, in the window

2008-06-20T13:46:00.000-07:00

photography

Vibrant
bluish, atmpospheric.
I can't
be less than real.

Vibrato,
pitch, consonance.
I tried
to be much better.

Photographs,
traveled, expectation.
Everything
depends on weathering.

Authentic,
eloquent, atmospheric,
whether or not we capture that
which is beautiful.

reprise

2008-06-18T09:22:00.001-07:00

It is really gray today. The weather feels a lot like fluorescent lighting, which I do not like. I don't think I have ever been in a good coffeehouse that also had fluorescent lighting, and if it did I probably didn't stay there long enough to remember being there in the first place.

I think I like the sky more when it's sunny. I like it even more when it looks like candles are placed on small candle-holders above the clouds. or, that dark blue quality that the sky has in places next to the ocean, like kitsalano beach. There are, decidedly, a lot better things for the sky to be than gray.

Let's all pray for summer.

Later.

Creativity

2008-06-12T12:07:00.001-07:00

Personal advice from experience:

a) Get a good dental plan
b) see a dentist often
c) floss often
d) eat less candy

Apparently I have a huge problem with one of my tooths (intentional grammar), and my dental plan does not cover it, so I have to just get a quick-fix which my plan does cover. This is a frustrating place to live sometimes, the land of junk food. But I can't blame culture, because I should have taken care of this a long time ago. And I can't complain, because I can afford to take care of my problems when I actually become brave enough to.

Hello, by the way. I kind of started this entry in the middle of a sentence. I have noticed that my journal entries have become less one-sided journals and more conversations- speaking with the assumption that people are reading this and trying to understand it.

I have a lot of unexpressed thinking on my mind, most of which comes out in my really great thinking times (in the shower, over coffee, in a coffeehouse) which I have not had any of recently. I heard it said once that "from the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks".

I have noticed that;

a) Writing prose, unlike poetry, is very immediate. Writing prose has to be well thought out. Although, a lot of prose seems to have more of a flow to it, like a well told story. I don't really know.
b) People that hang out at Ethical Addictions, one of my mainstay coffeehouses, all have a distinctive look. There are the quoteunquote "scene" kids that spend a lot of time trying to look very stylish, getting their hair and color schemes just right. Then there are the "artsy" kids that just wake up, and their look happens by default. I fall into this category.

You can always tell which are which. The artsy kids are the ones that act awkwardly around the really cute baristas. Case in point... I am too scared to talk to the cute baristas.

I do not know what I am talking about. This, like a couple of my last entries, have been transitional- trying to get from one place to the next, not fully settling on a theme, trying to find a theme to get settled into for a long period of time (home, creativity, expression of artistic ability, relationships, what have you).

So. Leave me a comment. Tell me something I should write about. I'm getting there. By "there" I mean, I'm searching for a theme to devote extensive thought.

Thus is creativity.

PS- I had an english toffee from Tim Horton's this morning. A very little known secret about me is that I always have one of these drinks before traveling. This or a moch frap from starbucks. Or at least I used to. Everytime I drink these I feel like I need to travel somewhere. Sigh.

here by my side

2008-06-10T09:21:00.000-07:00

A lot of news as of late:

One) I picked up some tickets for Matt Good yesterday, a minor expense for an artists who was really big in the late 90's. And I just found out this morning that The Album Leaf is playing this Friday in Seattle.

So somewhere between being broke, and feeling convicted for spending too much money, I will be enjoying some pretty rocking moments.

Deux) I picked up a lot of movies the day before that, on a whim. By on a whim I mean on a sale. Among them are Paris ja' Taime, Good Will Hunting, and Atonement- all movies which are my heart / all movies you should see.

Three) I have not written prose in a long time, again. I blame this on my computer still being broken. Last summer I spent a lot of time in solitude hanging around on the back deck in solitude, while my roommates were still at work. Yesterday my roommate, a roofer, had a day off because it was raining immensely. Which, kind of, messed up my idea of having a day of solitude to myself.

As I usually say, the one thing that wrecks solitude is having too many people around.

Last week I asked myself the question, "if I can't be real at home what is the point of living"? I think we, as people, need to have places in our houses that we can escape to, without the fear of someone walking in to our embarrassing moments of honesty. By escape I don't mean avoiding community, shutting myself out completely. I mean being able to have solitude.

Something I realized back in 2005, is that I can't find the joy of solitude without the strength of community. In order to be confident I need time to myself. This just makes sense to me.

So that is that. The rain was really nice yesterday. I wish you were here to see it. There is always that cool air that you only get to feel when it rains here. BC really is a nice, though horribly under appreciated, place to live. A lot of us living here get so caught up in ideas, and questions, that we forget how easy it would be to just spend a day outside, taking pictures or writing in our notebooks over cups of coffee.

I don't really know. I just think life could be so much easier if I stopped running around and just found solitude. Well, maybe not easier. Just more profound.

4) I owe it to myself to write more. Let's talk more about this.

later.

hope somehow

2008-06-05T14:32:00.000-07:00

Some news.

I started compiling some poems yesterday for a new book project, which I hope to have done by the end of this year. I have realized that I have some really down, sad, poems. My theory for this so far have been that I only write poems when I am sad, to express.

Which leaves me with a lot of questions, about creativity. To what extent can we, who write, allow ourselves to be creative? Is being down the only emotion we can express?

In reality I am a pretty fun, hopeful, person (when I am not in some coffee-induced state). So, my challenge is being able to express hope in the stuff I write... writing that is able to say "it is tough, but I'm getting somewhere" instead of always say "bah, I am lost and miserable and sad all the time... bah".

I owe it to myself to start writing about hope, because that is the real me. The real me is not just down all the time.

How about some feedback? How do you, who reads this, think about writing?

I'll continue this thought in the next couple weeks, here in my office of fun.

See you later.

a short introduction, or an afterthought

2008-06-04T13:10:00.000-07:00

I am forgetting the quiet of ordinary days,
when I am surprised, by
something unexpected.

on rock and the fine art of listening.

2008-05-27T09:44:00.000-07:00

Currently, I am in the process of taking pictures of all the funny stuff around my office, and all the artsy stuff around my house that is hard to realize apart from feeling artistically inspired to notice (whew. trying saying that five times fast). I will finally update my photojournal this week, I promise.

I'm also in the process of disliking myself because I spend too much money. I do so because a lot of my life depends on being artistically inspired, and this involves the purchasing of spectacular films and music- such as Darjeeling Limited, Xavier Rudd's White Moth album, and Waking Ned Devine, none of which I could find on sale yesterday.

In reality, all I bought this weekend was a fantastic book called "Jamie at Home". Its a book about a chef who grows food in his backyard and cooks a lot, with a lot of beautiful photography and artwork. Buying this was not a poor choice, necessarily.

To make a long story short, I am not being honest with myself. I feel bad about money because I do not keep myself organized. That is the truth.

In other news, I really like the new Sarah Mclachlan record, but I am too cheap to actually pick it up. The initial concensus regarding the new Death Cab for Cutie album, that my friends and I share, is that it kind of sucks. But I think it is one of those albums you dislike for a long time, then all of a sudden love like crazy- like every album that Wilco and the Arcade Fire have put out. "Narrow Stairs" reminds of of Death Cab's older stuff- more rocky, less overtly artsy... i could be wrong. Please argue with me.

I am still a huge fan of Xavier Rudd, although I can't find his stuff anywhere. And I am loving everything by The Album Leaf right now, but the same problem presents itself. alas.

In other other news, the new Coldplay comes out next month. Really excited to hear this one, I won't lie. Violet Hill, I think, is one of their best songs to date... or to listen to on a date. But I have no idea what that is like.

Case in point: I still have yet to hold hands with a girl, since publishing this entry. Alas alas. One of these days.

I have a lot of music to catch up on. Later.

this office life

2008-05-23T10:06:00.000-07:00

I have been listening to a lot of The Album Leaf in the past couple days- hence the previous video I posted. A couple mornings ago I found my roommate's copy of "in a safe place" and listened to it about 4 times over during the course of the day. I am down.

Last night after work I sat at home, on my deck, trying to put together some poems. But I forgot all the lines I was making up in my head on the drive home, which I thought was lame as life.

Then a friend of mine gave me a chocolate cake for my birthday, which is sitting on my friend Brad's desk here in our small church office, next to our mandatory pot of french-press coffee and bowls of "fruit loops" (Being a youth worker has it's benefits). So I wrote what I could, whatever random lines I could come up with, before my friends and I watched Hotel Rwanda.

I was hoping to watch something really arsty, like Persepolis, Once, I'm Not There, or The Savages... maybe next Thursday (Thursday nights, for the record, are 1 dollar movie rental nights at a video place a block away from where I live. Ideal since being arsty goes hand in hand with being cheap). I am at least 5 or 6 movies behind at the moment.

I have nothing at all planned this weekend, besides hanging out with a certain someone on Sunday, so I might try and do some actual good writing again. We'll see. My computer will not leave this office, as I have been on it all week and there is always the need for moderation of time. So it will be good.

For now, here is a list of essential items for a Youth worker's office, that I have discovered (look forward to pictures);

1) A big funny hat
2) Candy
3) Weird thrift store treasures (like our earthenware juice container, and fake yellow flowers
4) Bags of chips
5) Coffee. Hot Chocolate. Hot Apple Cider.
6) Guitars
7) Letters to read, for those few times of being over-computerized
8) Really cool looking t-shirts
9) Freezies
10) Books. The good ones. Currently, The End of Religion, ,The Wounded Healer Contemplative Youth Ministry, and Stumbling Toward Fait h.

11) The occasional student.

The journey continues.

another day

2008-05-21T16:59:00.000-07:00

It was another long day today. And it's starting to feel like yesterday was weeks ago. Thus my current act of posting two days in a row.

I'm feeling really sick today, mainly because I haven't slept well in a week and because I have been thinking non-stop about everything since I started here. Working here feels like a major adjustment, from hard construction work to administrative work. The big question I'm asking myself, well one of them, is "where does youth ministry start"?

I mean, where / when do I start being all the things I read about in youth ministry books? The man of character who disciples students?

I started reading a book today called "Contemplative Youth Ministry". In the first chapter the author says, "The real crisis those of us who seek to share faith with youth is this:

We don't know how to be with our kids.
We don't know how to be with ourselves.
We don't know how to be with God. "

Later on, describing what a contemplative approach is like, we writes, "The yearning to be fully awake and alive, the desire to be attentive to others, the longing to be receptive to God's call in every moment of our lives is the heart of the contemplative tradition." Later he talks about "unrehearsed moments when a deep sense of gratitude falls upon us and we find ourselves without need or want, satisfied and reverent at the mystery of life. "

So, the more I read this the more I feel the need to be alive. I'll be honest, feeling dry and burdened is something I feel most of the time. Sometimes I get so busy, like in the last two days, that I forget to just "be"- to take a second to just be who I am, and to sit with a student and allow them to do the same.

Or, in plain terms, I don't allow myself to stop and be loved. My place in working here is not supposed to be this rush. I am supposed to be taking rest. I am really meant to, as the author describes "take a long loving look at the real... a look, long and lovingly, at what is".

Really, in all the rush I don't know how to just enjoy these moments, to enjoy the comfort of contemplating, about where I stand and where I am going, before getting buried by the rush of life.

I'm still trying to figure this out. I think, it could be as easy as taking care of some unpaid bills and then taking a deep breathe or two. But I think the real challenge is being able to apply any of this to life. To allow myself the time to realize I am loved enough where I am right now. And it definitely is a challenge.

The other question I was asking myself, for the record, was "what is it like to really be humble". I'll have to save that for another day.

More to come.

pizza and better office space

2008-05-20T13:07:00.000-07:00

It's been a really long weekend, friends. But it was good.

I spent most of my weekend on a guy's retreat, with some boys from my youth group. We spent 3 days on a small lake near long stretches of ranch land and rolling hills. Driving there it felt like the movie "Open Range".

At night the moon mirrored on the lake perfectly, setting up an atmosphere of loons and frogs, the sound carrying across the surface of the lake. It was really more beautiful than I can describe with prose right now.

Then yesterday I spent the day at a silent retreat place called "The Mark Centre". Me and some young adults read books, talked about life, ate food together, and enjoyed a day of quiet, which is a nice thing to have every so often in the chaos of life.

I had a lot of conversations this week, mostly about the love of God. From what I have read, and heard from a lot of interviews on "The Hour", a lot of people don't like God. Sometimes it feels like the God they are talking about hates them, or else could care less about what they do. The God they talk about, in fact, seems to do more harm than good via the people who call him friend.

I have a problem with this, because I have this image of God as a lot more loving than that... a lot more gracious than all the rules and legalisms that Christians tie to God.

So here is what I came up with in my reflections. There are two basic, essential, truths I have of God. The first is that God likes me, likes me, and nothing I can do will change that. The second is that I am trying. I'm trying to be a good person and figure out life, and that, I think, is all God expects of me.

And this kind of love is really hard for me to accept, because I grew up feeling worthless a lot of the time. In the working world our worth is defined by what we can do. The people with the highest skills get money, success, and value. But a lot people with low social skills- the mentally handicapped, the abused- are deemed worthless.

In light of this, the love God is supposed to have for us is opposite. Essentially, I don't have to do anything to deserve love, and I don't have to carry all the guilt or shame from mistakes I made in the past.

Really, this should free me, us, up to enjoy life. Even if I am feeling broken most days, I want to know that I have love to look forward to everyday. The question "am I loved" should not even come into my mind, as much as the question of "what can I figure out today" should.

One thing I have said in conversation before is that "If life feels easy for me, I'm probably not being honest with myself". To be honest is to know I have a lot of hurt to carry, and having the humbleness to give that up. In the end, I think it is more humble for me to accept that I am loved and cared for, rather than always thinking God's love is only given to those people who are good enough.

I am good enough. Right now. And that is what makes the difference.

In case you are wondering what my "today" is like, today is my first day working in the office, at my first Youth Ministry job ever. The beauty of working here is that things like solitude, praying, reading and meeting with friends is part of my job. So far, I am loving it.

More to come.

PS- please ask me any questions if anything I just said sounds confusing. It's really tough trying to transfer really good conversations into semi- good journal entries sometimes.

Later.

making my way up the west coast

2008-05-16T10:44:00.000-07:00

some scattered thoughts, before more traveling

(I really hope this is my last weekend away for the next long while).

creativity scares the hell out of me,
on days like this, the really nice ones,
inside without words
or consequence.

tough love never asked me any questions,
a lot of tough, not a lot of love.
tough love hurt more than anything,
given the days I could take it seriously.

originality doesen't like my living room,
staring blankly from the walls like christmas lights,
taken down nonchalantly,
like christmas itself.
I never like to grow tired of things I love.

I've made more excuses than mistakes,
because forgiveness doesn't come without conditions.
I'm wasting today to
like myself enough.

~

I'm not what I say I am most days,
i could never give myself enough credit.
Grace is that love we never asked for:

I never asked for love because I didn't think I deserved it,
and I'd just as well learn to live alone.
But who I am to ask for anything less
than belonging to something. to someone.

no expression

2008-05-12T09:48:00.000-07:00

A lot has happened since last time. Evidently.

Last Wednesday a friend and I went to my favorite resteraunt in Nanaimo - a romantic Mediterranean place built in a house downtown- only to find out it was closed down!!! Which was tough, being that it is the second of my two favorite resteraunts in Nanaimo shut down.

My first was an Italian place called "Milanos" that my mom used to cook for, which is now turned into a British style place. My friend and I were making fun of each other because I'm somewhat Italian and she is somewhat British.

At the Sheree Plett show there was about 4 people that showed up, which actually made the show really good. Halfway through her set I got to do a couple of my poems, like this one, and I was horribly awkward as usual. During the show my friend and I were drawing pictures of trees on a table.

Then, after 4 more days of waiting to see if I had a job, and wandering the streets of Nanaimo and Vancouver, I came home and found out that I have a job! I'm going to be a youth ministry intern from the next 13 weeks, starting Thursday. Thus beginning a new journal experience.

So far the extent of my preparation for this summer has been me buying Larvae snacks - wormy things that you can eat!!! I am a youth worker, after all.

Last night I made a feast, of sorts, in the tradition of "Babette's Feast" and "Big Night". It reminded me a lot of the weddings my Mom and I used to cater, making really good food for young brides and uptight bridesmaids (a stretch for most caterers I have seen).

It is always good trying to get a lot of friends together for a dinner, because it gives me that 2 or 3 hours to just be in the kitchen and cook. It is my way of making up for the fact that I cannot play guitar at all, and the fact that I take myself too seriously sometimes. Especially after traveling alone too much.

So that is where I am. I'm trying to sit down and write something concrete today, and not sit around the house. Though, that is starting to become a paradox, and a contradiction in my life, in many ways. A house is supposed to be a place of safety, of comfort and belonging. Though in western cultures "staying inside the house" has become tied to laziness, arrogance, and a lot of other things that really don't do anyone any good.

I don't understand this. I just know that I need my house to be a place of belonging, because I don't have much else in my life that exists for that sole purpose. And why does a house even exist if not to be a place where we can belong?

So thats my thought of the day. So far, I have nothing to do today, or tomorrow. We'll see.

(I stole this video from Amy, for the record).

grace eventually

2008-05-07T14:13:00.000-07:00

I spent some time in chapters today, trying to find copies of The Ordering of the Heart by Madeleine L'Engle, The complete short stories of Flannery O'Conner, and Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard.

But, alas, I couldn't find copies of any of those books. So instead I picked up "Grace Eventually" and "Ella Enchanted" (hey, stop laughing. that just happens to be a really nice book). I am addicted to books. I won't lie.

Then I walked over to The Buzz, and wrote this. Take care.

let go.

I sit quiet as in a calm blue pool,
like waves of jazz
from miles davis.

I let go as a kite in wind,
over the water
from the pacific ocean.

I quiet myself as if in a coffeehouse,
like a mug warming slowly
from earl gray tea.

I hold on to God as if alone,
like a newlywed
from a long separation.

or else, God holds on to me.
and this is all I can do to
keep myself from running away.

everyone around here

2008-05-06T20:59:00.000-07:00

A long overdue entry or a long way gone.

I came into Nanaimo today, worn out and weathered from a weeks worth of walking. Just off the ferry- one of the new ones they just built- I kept walking and crashed in a park in downtown nanaimo, under the shade of a tree on a hill near a small beach.

In any case, I am skipping many many details here. So I will try, as caffeinated and awkward and obnoxious as I am right now, to write this story as interesting as possible.

This weekend I went to a "full gospel business men's" retreat in Kelowna,- which is not at all and never will be my style. I was there helping a friend set up worship services. It was actually quite enjoyable. All the men there talked about "the spirit" a lot, and spoke in tongues. I myself just walking around the lake, and talked a lot about being way too human.

I'm not going to find out whether or not I have a job until friday, So I jumped a bus to Kitsalano the next day to visit my friend and, essentially, run away from the constant sense of dread that comes with waiting.

A good 30 percent of my life, I have concluded, is spent waiting for something to happen.

At my friends house in Kits I tried to walk to the beach but I got lost, and walking an hour in the wrong direction. Eventually I found Kits beach, had two slices of pizza, wrote poems at a coffee house called "bean around the world" and watched the sun set into a wave of clouds and mountains, in several colors across a clear sky. Epic.

The next day... well, today, I took off from my friends house to Granville to find a bus to the ferries, and got lost again... then walked a half hour in the wrong direction, again, and missed my ferry.

Eventually, I came into Nanaimo, and therein my story comes full circle. In Nanaimo I tried to find some pizza downtown, to no avail. So I found a small bakery and ate three croissants. Then I visited a coffee place that sells "salt spring island" coffee, and then met up with a friend of mine.

After said coffee we drove to another coffeehouse I like called the buzz, and I had some tea and talked way too much because I was way too wired and worn down from travel.

What I'm finding out, since coming home, is that things that are commonplace in Vancouver- such as cheap pizza, concerts, art, and coffeehouses- are awkward here, for the most part.

Thus, I am on another random awkward journey, trying to escape my problems, as is the reason that many of mankind's greatest journeys have been taken.

In any case... I need to stop talking. I am really getting sick of the sound of my own voice. The next entry will a lot more relaxed. I will have simpler, more concise, stories to tell.

The alternative to this long and annoying blog entry, if you have chosen to skim my work up until this point, is the following summary list of things I have done in the past 6 days:

1) Attended men's retreat, with a bunch of pentecostal men.
2) Got lost in Kistalano Beach
3) Had pizza and coffee overlooking the ocean
4) Got lost in Granville
5) Fell asleep under a tree listening to Kid A in Nanaimo
6) Had coffee in Downtown Nanaimo.
7) Had tea in the North end of Nanaimo
8) Disliked myself for running away from my problems, and writing this effing long journal.

9) watched Bridget Jones 2.
10) Took a deep breathe, and went to bed.

Notes to self: Drink juice instead of tea. Write shorter entries. Stop making excuses. Sleep for more than 3 hours. purchase a german beer.

More, or less, to come.

once again

2008-05-02T10:07:00.000-07:00

I might be going home this weekend, after going on a man's retreat (which is completely outside of my character... an entire weekend without girls is too long!), one of the reasons being that Sheree Plett, an artist I like to support, is playing in Nanaimo on Wednesday.

In any case, this, like much of my life, is very up in the air. I really am starting to get tired of this "about to go traveling" feeling. bah.

Here is a video I found that I really like. See you later.

we carry too much

2008-04-28T09:37:00.000-07:00

... and you'd carry that, all you deserve.
never entitled to arms or holding close.
growing up beautiful is more than it seemed.

I spent some time on one of British Columbia's gulf islands this past weekend, a place called "Pender Island" an hour or so ferry ride from Victoria and greater Vancouver.

I came home and someone told me that at a Starfield/ Shane & Shane/ Bethany Dillon concert, here in Abbotsford, a 25 by 25 foot section of flooring collapsed, and 80ish people fell 5 meters into the basement. 40 people were injured though only one person was seriously injured.

I was really shaken by this at first, being a youth worker. I was supposed to be at this concert, but instead I was traveling to a youth retreat. I know there is some profound thing I am supposed to capture in all of this, some connection to be made, but I'm struggling to make that connection.

The first image that came to mind when I heard about this was youth workers at the concert rushing to the scene of the collapse, offering help, coming together. The next image was youth workers calling each other the next day, seeing which kids were hurt. And this, I think, is the heart of youth ministry- caring. I started to feel a compulsion to make calls myself, to hear stories and to be involved.

Though, I took a step back. The last thing I want to be is a band-wagoner, jumping in on some pity party. I do want to offer my sincere concern, but I also don't want to press an issue to much. Thus is life.

So, I'm back to my awkward stage of waiting to see wether or not I have a job, again. Next weekend I'm going to another retreat in the interior of BC somewhere, I have no idea. I hope to get some woods time, away from commitments and youth work for a couple days. I still have a lot of hurt to get through from this past semester- the hard stuff we have to carry in the mess of being real, living intentionally, learning the odds and ends of self respect.

Am I just sounding crazy here? I watched the "Return of the King" on friday, and in the end of the film frodo (I really hope I don't sound like a nerd) talked about the hurt that he still had from carrying the ring, even after it was gone from his life.

I think living life itself can feel like that. Even after we have come through the hard times we still carry the weight of that experience, almost to remind ourselves to keep learning. just a thought. comment if you want to help me finish that thought. I would be grateful.

Anyway, I owe you some pictures. I'll have a couple posts on "Art is for Birds" up this next week, I promise.

Later.

~

And thus it was. A fourth age of middle-earth began. And the fellowship of the ring, though eternally bound by friendship and love, was ended. Thirteen months to the day since Gandalf sent us on our long journey we found ourselves looking upon a familiar sight. We were home. How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand there is no going back? There are somethings that time cannot mend, some hurts that go too deep that have taken hold. Bilbo once told me his part in this tale would end, that each of us must come and go in the telling. Bilbo's story was now over. There would be no more journeys for him, save one. My dear Sam. You cannot always be torn in two. You will have to be one and whole for many years. You have so much to enjoy and to be and to do. Your part in the story will go on.

- frodo, return of the king.

sky blue sky

2008-04-21T09:07:00.001-07:00

Odds, ends.

Its finally sunny again. Kind of. At least it was when I first woke up.

I have a new room, beside my old one, that allows me a noticiably larger amount of space and light. I set up m bed right beside a window, so when it gets warmer I can wake up to fresh air and birds.

This also gives me something to look at while I write, as my desk space is not limited to a dark corner, or placed in front of a wall. All in all, this is a decent set up.

A lot has changed since last year. Like roommates. I don't live with Jeff (ben stiller) anymore, and I have not had any good conversations about shalom in a long long time.

I now live with this guy;

Oh no, wait. I do not live with Jensen Ackles (Smallville anyone?) I live with this fellow:

Nothing says "fish for lunch" like two guys from Vancouver Island sharing a house.

In other news, I am feeling the impending doom of rejection, as I still haven't heard back about the youth work job I am supposed to be doing this year. Which sucks for several reasons:

1) I have nothing to do for the next month, except watch movies and loathe myself for my spending habits.
2) I am horribly broke because of tuition fees
3) This is the 4th summer in a row I have tried to get a youth work job.

Anyway, I have nothing to complain about. I think it is going to be a good summer. I will hopefully enjoy the following things often:
1) acoustic music
2) clear, warm morning air
3) the backdeck
4) Green tea
5) Fair Trade South American Coffee. mmm.

We'll see. More to come, friends, once life gets started again.

Later.

some home

2008-04-18T00:33:00.000-07:00

on expectations and my failing approach to relationships.

keep me in good company.
I need somewhere to call home.

every line I write falls captive to the wind.

~

I can't remember what I had to say,
to get this off my shoulders,
to do better at self-confidence.
It seems the hurting are the most outspoken.

whatever hurting means.

maybe I was way too hard on myself,
maybe we all are, in many ways.
and I have fallen under my own judgement.
my heart is wrecked with the things I say.

~

keep me in good company,
I need somewhere to rest my weary heart,

I can't keep up
the unfolding act of keeping my composure.

I expect too much of mountain peaks,
of sunny days that were supposed to last longer.
and belonging that was supposed to come through
for days like this.

I was good for a second there,
I still long for more than just 3 good days a year.

~

I'm making this up as a go along.
being my own mentor and father figure.
If only self-confidence was somewhat easier to do alone.
and I go at it as bravely as I can.

when did this house get so sarcastic,
and when did I get so bad at being cautious?

~

I was good for a second there.
It seems I only scare away those I care for.
I should just pack it in and go back home.

I don't want to wait until life feels good enough again,
I can't live up to a word I say.

~

In any case, my life is in a bit of transition this week. My roommate is slowly making his way out, and a new one is making his way in. I'm trying to keep myself together in the mess of organizing a years worth of life.

My exams finished last week and so I spent some time reflecting on being a leader this last year (a painful, fulfilling, experience) and looking forward to being even more of a leader next year.

Spring is lazily making its way in this year, preceeded by snow and cold wind. My friend gave me a pipe last week, so I am smoking more than usual ("usual" being never, really).

In any case, this is how my journal is unfolding. I feel super vague, and I'm having a hard time. If you want to ask me about any of this you know where to find me / e-mail me.

sonic youth is terrible

2008-04-16T09:28:00.000-07:00

Hm. My last entry kind of sucked, again. I am really not doing well at this whole "sounding interesting" lately. I will make it up to you.

It has been overcast as anything since Saturday. Though, I am done exams, and I now have time to read books I have been meaning to read... among them;

The Grapes of Wrath, John Steinbeck
The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz, Mordachi Richler
The Sound and the Fury, William Faulkner
A Complicated Kindess, Miriam Toews

Alright. I have to write something good soon. It has been too long.

PS- If you haven't seen Juno yet, watch it over a cup of yorkshire harrogate tea. That and "Paris je' Taime".

See you.

PPS - I am wearing the most uncomfortable clothing known to man today, which does not fit. Clothing should not stretch. Meh.

blue like jazz

2008-04-14T09:20:00.000-07:00

It was a pretty perfect couple of days on Friday and Saturday, I must say.

After a really difficult week my friend, Karina, and I went to see a Valley Festival Singers performance- which is a local choir group- with the theme of black spirituals. A couple of my friends were singing, and the Nelson Boschman Trio was playing, so all in all an amazing evening of song.

Afterwards we took a walk to a pizza place and shared a medium hawaiian overlooking the dim lights, and passing traffic, of South Fraser Way- a strip of Abbotsford where a mall, a Safeway, and numerous other stores and cafes call home.

It is not a spectacular place by any means, but these insignificant details of the town one calls home are always more beautiful when shared with a friend.

Saturday was as close to perfect as days can be... with the minor exception of an hour or so when I had a bit too much coffee and felt wired. I woke up at around 9 and a friend, Alex Friesen, called me, reminding me that Radiohead tickets were going on sale that morning at10!

Ah! So Alex, Greg, and I took a walk in the beautiful morning sunlight to the mall and waited around until 10. Then at 10:01 I picked up my horribly overpriced $77 ticket.

Thus, I now have ticket to see Radiohead in August. Ah Ha Ha!!! I am super excited for this one!

The day, then, consisted of me finishing novels, sitting under trees on campus, and sitting on my backdeck in the cool of night with a bottle of beer from holland. It does not get much better than this, friends.

Then Sunday was really overcast. And boring. And so is today. Thus proving the old cliche regarding British Columbia: If you don't like the weather just wait 5 minutes.

So now I am listening to In Rainbows for the second time this morning, about to have a gradually cooling mug of green tea, and about to finish papers that were due two weeks ago. Can't wait until summer starts up.

See you.

you must have fallen from the sky

2008-04-11T13:43:00.000-07:00

I thought yesterday's post kind of sucked, so here is a better one.

I have a hard time trying to be concise when I am a) drinking coffee and b) am wrestling with my perceptions of love as opposed to the actual reality of love (I watched "Paris je'taime" last night and the many perspectives of love are battling it out in my head. bah).

Such a thought is, arguably, not something that needs to be wrestled with necessarily. Rather, this might be one of those questions that works itself over time and experience (and with wisdom to accompany said experience).

At least this is what I wish for myself. I wish for love to be a process with, eventually, grows me and stretches me. I like to think that God has the universe more intricately composed than I could ever comprehend. And if the universe is that intricately placed, then how much more is the relational aspect of my life taken care of?

Love is something I don't want to worry about constantly, sometimes.

Just a thought. I feel like a mess today.

you saw all my pieces broken

2008-04-10T12:39:00.000-07:00

Last summer I listened to a lot of this guy (cary brothers). This summer I hope to listen to nothing but Sigur Ros, David Bazan, and Sufjan Stevens. And maybe Death Cab, if their new CD turns out to not be a horrible dissapointment (which seems to be the fate of a lot of great indie artists, upon reaching that "3rd major album" stage in life).

If you have any artists I need to be listening to, let me know. I like this plan.

more than alive

2008-04-06T14:37:00.000-07:00

Today is a pretty slow day. It was raining this morning so I stayed in and watched "Chocolat". I have a bit of a craving for Bridget Jones. The movie, not Bridget herself... although.

School is almost done, in 2 weeks or so. I'm trying to tie up all the loose ends before summer - i.e. who I like, what bills I need to pay, what music I need to listen to.

I find it is really hard to keep things organized in a set plan. Sometimes the details of life get mixed together, so all I have left is a big mess of priorities, all of which I have to unpack and decide which are the more important to keep (and which are disposable). The to do list gets too complicated to follow through with, leaving me in an overwhelmed state.

Am I just sounding crazy here? To me this is what being a 23 year old / a college student feels like. It is the daily mess of making mistakes and learning from those mistakes, as opposed to having everything neatly laid out for me. The basic thought is that no-one taught me much about adult life- finances, time management, taxes. I'm making this up as I go along.

Maybe it is just as well. I think there are things in this life that have to be experienced in order to be learned, things you won't understand until you yourself have felt them - pain, love, rain, quiet nights under stars. It's basically like something out of a calming movie, or a book of reflective prose.

Though that is not to say I'm fine learning this alone. I do still feel the dire need for a mentor in my life to help me answer those questions, deal with the shit, that I am hard pressed to answer.

yeeeah. so thats that. deep breath. I need to avoid having so much tea. it gets me thinking too much.

later.

- Adam

currently listening to: Hayden (link conveniently located to your right).

bind my wandering heart to thee

2008-04-03T12:43:00.000-07:00

older thoughts regarding home

The paradox of home is that it changes.
A house stops feeling like home. You won't find wisdom unless you leave.
Sometimes travel turns to the mercy of arms holding you,
travel turns into something more than running away.

its not in beautiful spaces I made, or the pine tree mistletoe.
I should have spent an evening listening, tasting, relaxing.
4 years later and this is all I have;
solitude without love is just being alone,
nothing wrecks solitude more than seeing people,
and nothing hurts more than the weight of words unsaid.

these snowy nights ask me to stay awhile.
I say can't. And I don't have a reason.

~
Some complicated thoughts:

So, I'm going to live in this place for the next year or so, wheras one of my roommates will not. Thus, I am starting to find that, as I explained in a recent assingment, "if you share a room with a person you are having a conflict with, it can seem like you are sharing a room with the conflict itself".

I have been losing a lot of sleep because there is an excess of unresolved conflict in this place I am supposed to call "home". And I really don't have anything except this apartment to "go home to". I am frustrated this time of year because of this. The idea that change hurts, I believe, starts to become more real in the twenties.

It has been a difficult couple of weeks. A lot of this comes out of hours of trying to clean my house and relax.

In terms of finding a sense of home in my house, I'm almost there.

and here i rest

2008-03-27T21:06:00.000-07:00

I decided to start a photo-journal this week. It is called, appropriately enough, Art is for the birds.

Who knows, I might actually keep it updated from time to time. We'll see.

In other news, I wrote this poem last month. Its about spring. I got to read it this morning for a chapel at my school, which was a great blessing. Take care.

rainfall

longing is the essence of noticing
something beautiful,
and wrestling with never staying the same.

here in an apartment of a friend:
3 potted plants on a window sill,
a green apple on a low cut brown table,
the sun reflecting shadows of a weeping vine on the wall,
distorted figures like a forgotten sense of faith,
a lack of trust in the senses when it comes to
something beautiful; love offered freely like water in a rainfall.

we hang around like second hand couches with covers,
listening to cars and typing keys,
like soundless pianos.
and with our hearts we long for a symphony,
and ode to belonging on a quiet afternoon,
something we have not prepared our hearts for.
We never say thank you unless life is good,
And we never say “save me” when life is fine

and I have felt it,
that pain of being slightly human.
It stays with me like an afterthought.
I should learn to say what I really mean.
or learn to mean something less confusing.

I feel a lot like saying “save me” too,
That is the problem with being so open;
I don’t feel fine when I lie anymore.
It hurts a lot being this transparent.

And all I have wanted to know is that I'm beautiful.
I can’t live without love, in the end.

ghosts and angels

2008-03-24T14:57:00.000-07:00

ghosts

The cold shivers like ghosts
haunting melody, piano,
keys tie together as if sewn by hand.

how did I wake up today?
solitude is lost like artless prose,
beauty refuses to acknowledge our arrival.

I can hear her sing, faintly,
Clair de Lune,
odeless words sing like old sea shanties.
In early hours I listen for her voice.

What beauty do I have to call to now?
an ode is cast for no arrival,
no hands to capture this melody.

Why is grace to write songs given,
only to be left remote, unknown?

The breeze shivers like angels
haunting refrain, guitar,
strings resigned to quiet peace;

a maid-in-waiting humming softly in the night.

ruby don't go downtown, ruby come in and stay

2008-03-20T12:56:00.000-07:00

umm.

damn. I sat down to type some profound thought, but I forgot what it was. bah!

So, life. Last night I put on an arts gallery here at CBC, and about 30 people showed up for conversation, all the while I was making sure a healthy amount of tea and coffee was made, and an even healthier amount of Ryan Adams and Belle & Sebastian were playing in the background.

I owe you pictures. My camera has been on the dead side of things. The picture posted above, for the time being, is a picture of "Afterthoughts"- a cafe I frequent with friends (girls) with images of italian people kissing painted on the walls. I took this picture ten minutes before closing time, after reading some wendell berry.

Everyone, by the way, should read "The Art of the Commonplace" at some point in life.

Tonight I'm hosting a concert for this guy. Thus is my continued life of planning arts shows, trying to suck less at public speaking, and trying to actually experience this thing called "life" I'm always talking about.

Now... if only I could remember what I wanted to say.

Your homework for this week is to listen to Jacob and Lily. I booked an outdoor concert for them last year at school, and it continues to be one of the highlights of my life. "Ruby" is really good.

Enjoy.

no I am not where I belong

2008-03-17T11:24:00.000-07:00

For some reason I am way too wired to write anything intelligable, but I will try anyway just to bug you.

Some friends and I took a road trip to a place called "Naam" in Vancouver last night. It was a small vegan place, full of mostly artsy people (with the occasional tradesman guys there who looked really out of place). I must say, I was impressed. I tried a tea made mostly with nettle, peppermint (the kinds of things in my backyard which often fall prey to lawnmowers).

They had this cheescake there with an organic blueberry sauce, which changed how I think about blueberries. In general, actual food has those earthy qualites which almost turn tasting into experiencing.

...As opposed to simulated blueberry flavours, which try and pretend they taste like anything profound. Why eat fake food when the real thing is so easily accesible?

I think, too often, our cultural mindset tells us to go after something that looks like love, or something that tastes sort of like something that tastes good, rather than go for the real thing. Of course, the real thing just takes a bit more work and imagination, doesen't it?

Experiencing life could be as easy as standing outside on a rainy morning, or as difficult as dropping 2000 bucks to fly to some tropical fantasy. I dunno. This notion has always made me kind of cynical- which I don't like to be.

~

In other news, i feel a little down today. Its gray out, I have homework, and I have not payed bills in 3 weeks. Which is all trivial in the grand scheme of things.

This is what being in college is like, friends. Life is, as Anne Lamott described "Pretty good, some problems".

Later

we do know fear

2008-03-12T15:08:00.000-07:00

So, apparently, there is an unwritten set of rules for blogging no-one ever told me about. Among them, all of which I have probably broken many a time, are:

a) Using too many commas
b) Discussing more than one subject each entry
c) Failing to unite a long commentary with a witty, slightly facetious, one-liner.
d) Using big words
e) Being either to honest or too vague
f) Creating a fake persona (as opposed to being the same person both online and inlife).
g) posting pictures of new-born children

Ok, so I haven't broken that last rule yet.... and I never will!

So... I'm not really up for trying to unpack how I'm feeling into a charming work of prose- as important as being completely honest is (I'll make it up to you). Rather, I'm going to leave you a list of movies you ought to see, if you haven't seen a good movie lately.

Once
The Dead Poet's Society
Babette's Feast
Lars and the Real Girl
Dan in Real Life
The Big Kahuna
Beyond the Sea
Good Will Hunting
Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason (Hey, stop lauging. I like chick-flicks).
~

"Mercy and truth have met together. Righteousness and bliss shall kiss one another. Man, in his weakness and shortsightedness believes he must make choices in this life. He trembles at the risks he takes. We do know fear. But no. Our choice is of no importance.

There comes a time when our eyes are opened and we come to realize that mercy is infinite. We need only await it with confidence and receive it with gratitude.

Mercy imposes no conditions. And lo! Everything we have chosen has been granted to us. And everything we rejected has also been granted. Yes, we even get back what we rejected. For mercy and truth have met together, and righteousness and bliss shall kiss.

- Lorens, from "Babette's Feast"

- Adam

its been a long time

2008-03-09T11:10:00.000-07:00

Two moments of epiphany that I came across yesterday:

1) The essential journey that everyone will take is to be noticed.

2) We are the books we keep.

And, PS- My house is very lacking in solitude right now. I'm trying to think of the nicest way to say "I think we need to move on" to my roommates.

PPS- I'm still thinking about Oregon sometime in May. Want to come?

We found our way into the afternoon

2008-03-04T12:03:00.000-08:00

Some updates:

1) I finished my paper a couple days ago (A study on Hosea 11). It took way too long, and sections are written way too emotionally. Remind me never to try and express overt amounts of heart into a research paper. Ever again.

I'm just about done doing the editing now. I am, noticably, sick of writing. I did get to uncover some interesting insights on traveling with my paper. Its not too bad.

2) I spent my whole week paper-izing, thus avoiding the vices of romance, holding hands, and kissing under a long sun-set by the west coast ocean. Sigh.

I'm starting to realize, gradually, that life has it's joy whether or not the love we experience is romantic. I could be wrong.

3) Beirut is coming to Vancouver. I can't wait! Well... I can. Because I think my ex is going (bah!). Even so.

4) The picture I just posted is of my friends from Vancouver, Laureate. I'm hoping that, sometime In the next two years, one of these guys will be able to hook me up with a job at JJ Bean- a coffee chain in Vancouver that I really like, being that they sell good coffee, and being that many cute girls work there.

Ah yes. I can see it now. I'll have to go down to the thirft store and artsify my closet soon. Not to mention my life.

5) March is definately the most stressful month of the school year, in terms of assignments. Expect many a sad story this month.

Oh, speaking of that, I wrote three long poems about life in my alone time this break (go figure). Here is one of them:

We found our way into the afternoon,
Or we stumbled, short of grace,
Short of any words to say.
We fill awkward silence with new folk music,
And discuss old books, long trade rides to Salem and
Portland Oregon.
Someone told me that is where coffee calls home.
I’m sure of that.
I’ve always thought coffee was home in commercial drive,
Or else home is wherever we hold hands.

Theres something to be said for community,
Tall stools and light-brown house cappuccinos-
In other places they always look better than they taste,
But not at JJ Bean.
I have yet to find a better coffee than that rainy night we shared
Dark roast in small quaint mugs, white contrasting the Kenyan blend,
With nuances of grapefruit
And quiet spring mornings.

...Sometimes we say words for the sake of saying them,
because they feel good to say, instead of keeping them to ourselves
and living out our days with worry.
Or we leave our questions in small comment boxes
For someone else to pick up and carry
For a little while.

~

In any case. I think we should hang out, who ever is reading this. If we are ever within the same 60 mile radius of each other give me a shout.

I like this plan. Later.

weighed down, full of something

2008-02-29T10:44:00.000-08:00

It occured to me, between procrasting my paper and a lonely friday morning, that I have not posted music in the last week or so.

So... enough said.

Have a good one.

ten pages left

2008-02-26T18:06:00.000-08:00

Precursor: I am listening to "Justice" right now.

Spring Break: Chapter one.

On Friday some friends and I drove into Vancouver to see Xavier Rudd. After the consumption of some very overpriced sketchy burgers we walked a block away from where we parked to the Queen Elizabeth theatre.
The concert opened with a guitarist with a jamaican/australian accent, who sang songs about nature. Kelsey, Greg and I exchanged bad jokes to each other while sitting on a balcony waiting for Xavier to kick it.

The show itself was amazing, save for a rather drab audience sitting in the balcony with us, compiled mostly of chachy guys who brought their girlfriends for the sole purpose of sitting around complaining about the people who were dancing.

I was thoroughly impressed by the many drums, native sounds, diggeree doos (which is spelled wrong) and overall excitement. At one point 60 or so kids rushed the stage, and were pushed off by the large security force, all two of them, which was fun enough in itself to watch.

(pause briefly to acknowlede my very annoying self-reflective dry writing style... noted).

(note, also, that I have had too much coffee and am, thus, running out of creative energy to finish this embarassingly boring entry which, like those stories actors tell in bad DVD commentaries, only I will find interesting).

Yesterday Brad and I drove into Seattle to see Lifehouse- a band which I have been listening to since high school. After realizing the venue was nowhere near Pike Place, and realizing we had 5 hours to waste, we shared a pint at a brewery across the street from Safeco Field. Then it was off to the show.

The opending act was HoneyHoney, a band with a guitarist that looks exactly like Andrew Stock and a singer that looks sort of like Kendra Wilson.

The next act was this guy named Matt Nathanson, an artist who had a big head (literally) and really dry humor.

And then Lifehouse. I think the two best moments of the evening were the first ten seconds of their set- watching Jason wander out of a purple-lit cloud of smoke up to the mic (beautiful) and watching Bryce rock the lead vocals of "Bridges".

I was definately close enough to see the hair on Bryce's face. Except he was pretty clean shaven that day so there was no real hair. Even so, If he did have facial hair I would have been close enough to see it.

As well, I loved getting to sing every word in "Am I ever going to find out", secretly wishing I could stand on stage and sing the backing vocals.
It is a very different experience getting to see a band you have studied for years but have never actually met. Standing on stage it felt Like Jason, Sean, and Bryce were close friends I had known for years, and I kept waiting for one of them to wave at me, and say "Hey, Adam. Glad you came".

Yes. That is creepy. Even so.

Speaking of me being a weirdo, before the show started I struck up a conversation with Michelle Ben about the Backstreet Boys. I told her how I had to go to 5 different record stores trying to find their first CD when it first came out, and how I tried to buy tickets to one of their shows but it sold out in 30 seconds (I don't think that would happen anymore).

All in all, a very good time.

Today I woke up about ten, wrote some notes for a paper I am trying to write this week, talked to Reide Norman for a bit, and then did not feel like writing anymore...

Which sucks, because I have to give a youth talk tommorow about food.
So, that is how I managed to see two concerts in four days. Now I am broke.

Alas.

I probably have something important to do right now. I have to figure out what. See you later.

- Adam

sunrise, sunrise

2008-02-21T17:10:00.000-08:00

It has been a long (long) week. It has also been the first week of spring.

Today was our last day of classes before "reading week", so I'm wrapping up the week with many a social gathering. Some friends and I put on a photography night last night, with amazing spice teas and paintings. Tonight I'm co-hosting a concert for a friend.

For Spring Break (aka, reading week)... I don't know. I can try to have a ten pager done, as well getting a lot of reading done, but those things are always in the air, never fully planned or followed through as originally planned.

This week, to explain the many details, I have;

1) Held someone close
2) Painted
3) Read poems under a tree that me and some friends named "Desmond".
4) Felt angry and frustrated at myself.
5) not done homework.
6) Smoked a clove cigar
7) Listened to Norah Jones surrounded by friends and the smell of coffee
8) Printed beautiful photographs, taken by friends. Wished I could show you.
9) Listened to "My Morning Jacket" in the morning.
10) Laughed

So... Its been a lot of friends. Which is always good.

I owe you some pictures, or perhaps some more good music. My computer is still broken, as are all of my lent goals for this year. It is a great sense of defeat as well as a longing for forgiveness and redemption.

Funny how that works.

- Adam

PS- I'm seeing Lifehouse and Xavier Rudd this week. Woot.

the climbing way

2008-02-12T17:11:00.000-08:00

Ok friends, I realize the irony of posting a Raine Maida video on a post devoted to Matt Good... but even so.

I picked up Raine Maida's solo album today, while on mini-road trip to put up posters for the Brad Steeves concert, and pick up the new City and Colour album.
It was an eventful half hour, or so (Brad's show is Feb 21st, 7pm, at CBC. If you live anywhere remotely close to Abbotsford, which more than half of you who read this don't, check this one out).

In other news, I am now broke, and hungry. On the positive side, my experience with fasting has made me less randomly hungry, I have new music (that did not cost and arm and a face, like most Christian albums) and I have pounds of coffee to keep me not-hungry in my bouts of not eating.

Speaking of that, to remove this conversation from my attempts at self-humour, I have been thinking a lot about this organization called Rice Raiser, a group that provides ways for families to eat, at ridiculously affordable prices.

For example, in Sierra Leone, $20.00 provides lunches and snacks for 3 students for one year. In Bangledesh, $1 buys vegetable seeds for 7 families.

So... I'm not really broke, or hungry, by any means in the grand scheme of things. I know music is very much a influential and important part of my life. and food is neccesary for survival.

Now, to what degree can I build a life that offers the greatest amount of sharing, generosity, that builds towards this idea of "enough" that Shane Claiborne talks about, with my love for music and the need for people to eat?

Hmm. So, that is the question I have to leave myself, for now.

Lets talk more about this... over tea. I have had too much coffee today.

Later.

the colder side of land and sea

2008-02-09T09:50:00.000-08:00

Josiah Leming, One last song
The ship was sinking; we were drinking, singing one last song,
Casting our gold into the ocean.
You grabbed a bucket, started screaming, "Come on, come on",
Trying to slow the downward motion.
Back in the kingdom, we were kings and queens and Oh, so strong
That God himself could not contain us.
We never thought we'd be the shorter half of sword and gun.
Now god himself could never save us.

Waves of silver, waves of gold
Are coming now to take me,
To separate my body from my soul
And Jesus leaves or takes me.
Hopes of heaven, fears of hell
Tell me, what's the chance I'll make it.
All my other plans have failed,
And all this time I've faked it.

We started sinking, drinking water from the open sea
Losing our bodies to the ocean.
You grabbed my hand and started screaming, "rescue me"
Together fight the downward motion.
Back in the kingdom we were kings and queens and Oh, so strong
That god himself just had to show us.
We never thought we'd see the colder side of land and sea
But he's the only one who knows us.

blue sky, white snow

2008-02-05T08:59:00.000-08:00

So, I've been thinking a lot lately. Surprisingly.

My computer has been broken for about a week now. Because of this, I have a lot less dead time- time usually reserved for hours on facebook, and downloading films/music.

Now my time has been filled with reading, of all things, and putting together insights.

One thing I thought about today: In Rock Faith and Pop Culture we talked about rebellion. I started to think, but did not share with the class, this idea that a lot of the artists I listen to rebel in ways that allow growth and maturity.

One of the ways "rebellion" was described today was "unconventional creativity" - moving away from cliche music making, to exploring new ways of doing music.

I started listening to Matt Good's new album, "Hospital Music", recently- and album Good wrote after an overdose, and a week in a hospital. In interviews Good talks about being diagnosed with Bi-Polar. All of this produces a raw, uncomfortable, honesty in Hospital Music.

I think this form of rebellion has a lot to do with musical integrity. If you really want to make money as an artist, sell hundreds of CDs, you aren't supposed to write songs about your personal state. Culture itself tells us that being too personal is weird, that deep pain is something to be worked out in private.

Our culture, I am discovering, is less about personal, sincere, honesty and more about being generalized, an average person... being a statistic instead of a person. Rebellion is, I believe, about making music that seeks to questions one's personal state and heart, rather than partake in a consumer-culture saying "this is how you are supposed to write, and live".

In this case Good rebels by writing deeply personal work, rather than write about a car he just bought, a bitter feeling towards an ex, or a late-night in a club. As Sia, another artist I'm listening to, explains, "Some people have real problems".

Thanks for reading. Let's talk.

- Adam

new concerts and old friends

2008-01-30T14:50:00.000-08:00

Items of further discussion which may/may not merit a comment:

1) My computer is broken. Which is sucky, because it contains every poem and paper I have written to date. Something that costs 1200 bucks should last longer than two years (damn technology).

One of the files on my computer is a presentation I'm doing tommorow. Which scares the hell out of me. Alas.

2) I'm getting better at my voice lessons. I stated tapping into my deep, rich voice lost years ago by teenage insecurity and discouragement. Hitting a difficult not is a great feeling, I must say.
Apparently the key to singing is breathing, and relxing one's face.

3) Today I listened to Ryan Adams (Love is Hell), Death Cab (Transantlanticism) and City and Colour (Sometime... new album coming out soon. woot).

4) Lifehouse is finally in town again. By in town I mean in Seattle, Feb 25th. They're playing at the Showbox, a venue so intimate you can see the hair on the artist's face. Its built right next to Pike Place Market, one of the most beautiful places I know, where you can sip espresso with friends in an artsy park overlooking a great mass of water.

I am super excited for this one.

5) I'm also seeing Xavier Rudd sometime soon.

So, that is my day. I have about 5 books to read, 3 papers to write, and severel memories to capture on paper in the next little while. Not to mention a piece computer than needs to work long enough to let me get my files. Bah.

I complain too much, evidently.

6) It was snowing today. At first lightly, then somewhat heavier. Now its lightly raining, turning dark. This is the first time, in a long time, that I don't care. This concerns me.

Somehow my daily life has turned into ignoring the beautiful aspects of snow, piling up on tree branches, covering the ground. Somehow in the mess of reading and writing I have disregarded something with strength.

I think what frustrates me the most is when things do work the way they are meant to... when life acts out of character. Things like computers, built for the sake of expiring after two years.

Sigh. Ok, I admit I have made too big a deal out of this. I need some kind of renewal, from dependance on finite things that prove unreliable. I don't need something more, as much as I need something with more depth.

Ok. I've said too much. I need to go do some reading. Or some conversing. Or something. This day needs rescuing.

Later

----------------

"...God, my soul needs setting free,
I can't keep up with this uncertainty."

I hide in my bed with the lights on the floor

2008-01-25T11:33:00.000-08:00

I thought, since I finished a paper this morning, that I would sit around reading small portions of books online. I came across a story called "Ella Enchanted".... and I am in love! I now remember why children's books are so full of heart.

There is, indeed, a huge difference between being "childish" and "child-like". Being Child-Like allows you to find out something you didn't notice before.Like how fun sitting under a ray of sun next to couch can be.

the difference between fantasy and imagination- fantasy being the lesser of the two

a night
another fairy tale.
wash me in your
open arms.
lost. lost in
bridges, crossing
to the castle.

princess,
take my hand like
imagination.
another timeless night.
the air is
only moving verse.
green and soil,
gods and creatures of a
smaller narrative.

a night,
an amour of
enchanting parchment,
a paper dress.
paper covers, quiet skimming.
calm aroma,
new white pages.
the good stories are those that
open our arms.

-those that make the
same world more captivating.
those that brings us more
into life,
rather than escape.

PS- I think for Lent I'm going to give up typing out my thoughts online. ie- here, and FACEBOOK. I think that my habit of putting thoughts online has become less "every once and awhile when I have something good to say" to "all the time because I feel like it".

Alas. facebook is a lame place to leave poems lying around.

See you.

what the light was like

2008-01-23T14:06:00.000-08:00

The days still feel like weeks, with this whole not eating thing. Which, in many ways, is only getting frustrating.

My roommates were both participating with me in this fast, and they both went off it yesterday (well, I kind of went off it myself, via the eating of two loaves of bread, but I decided to go back on). One of my roommates decided to clean house, eating every bit of immediately accessible food! (including peanut butter, orange juice, and some chili I made).

My other roommate bought a pizza. Evidently, we all suck at nutrition. In other news, I started singing lessons last week, and I am a horribly self-conscious person, prone to starting something, getting really good at it, then quitting because I start to feel too insecure... ever since high school (that particular list includes guitar, football, shotput, writing prose, and swing dancing).

This, I have promised myself, will not be one of those times. And now, a poem that has nothing to do with what I just said (until next time):

three small lights

my life is like three small Christmas lights,
(and many other things).
holding the house together with low glowing warmth.
keeping things together.

all our friends are getting married,
and I'll stay much the same.
I'll go on trying to be fine with my life,
always feeling about halfway there.

I'll be one who keeps the lights on tonight,
not the one trying hard not to cry.
even when clouds part, or light covers window,
and I'll find her soon, I know I will,
the unassuming girl in a white paper dress.

We'll wake up the same, though tomorrow I'm still single-
we'll pick up books and play words in the morning,
wake up next to metaphors and verse.
the tracing of arms and quiet hands,
the hiding and painting mystery in covers.

all my lights are making plans.
We'll all stay friends, then love somehow happens.
I'll serve coffee downtown, toss rocks at nameless shapes of water,
and I'll forget everything I've assumed about "beautiful".

We're all still trying to figure out what love is like.

I am still running

2008-01-20T14:05:00.000-08:00

Before you read this, consider listening to this instead.

Still Running

A sunny day with blue sky. The sun, slightly warm, glowing in a light shade on the couch. These are the shades of waking up ten years old in a small bunk-bed, my room in a basement in Nanaimo, one of the 7 or so houses I lived in growing up.

A lot of this past year has been distancing myself from my childhood, but still gripping onto, trying to rescue, the child-like aspects that make simple things like sunlight so warm and loveable. There are a great many things of my childhood I am blessed to hold onto, things that the triviality of life will not erase. Working a 9-5, raising kids, paying rent- none of these things should ever / are not meant to replace the first flowers of joy our childhoods birthed. Rather, the rest of one's life is, ideally, supposed to be learning how to love old things like sunlight in new ways, finding something about sunlight we didn't notice before, for every new stage we live in.

I'll leave it at that... because I really am having a hard time finishing this thought (Tuesdays suck).

Lets talk about this in person, my two or three readers, most of which live too far away. Or... talk to someone else about it, until then.

Later.

Evenings

2008-01-18T20:55:00.000-08:00

an insight on fasting: eating food and sharing community cannot be separated. Sharing food is essential to time spent together. Its interesting.

more or less / evenings

Pt. 1

a new CD to call my own,
something I haven't had in quite awhile.
I mass produce most of music collection.
I almost forget which parts were free.

And I forgot what I was going to do today
somewhere between feeling broken and two cups of coffee.
We seem to live in a state of unresolved sadness,
And that is the very thing that makes us human.
apparently.

My first cup since I started this,
something I haven't tasted since Sunday.
I can't decide just yet if this is numbing the pain or
if its just me trying to feel fine about my life
for once.

My head is spinning because of the coffee,
or maybe its the long night alone again.
Thieving and wandering in creativity.
listening just makes it easier living with myself.

Pt 2.

I read some old poems I wrote last year.
And I decided I might stop talking to "you",
a vague person I refer to.
I seem to forget who I'm talking to sometimes.
or I just like the idea of having someone to give words to.

I write much like I take adventures,
always wishing i could share the story, at that moment.
I don't want to keep all this to myself.

Pt 3

Its been a very interesting 4 years.
I'm different, but the same.
I still feel the constant need for love.
But now I'm starting to know why.

I can't stand to be this honest and still not feel confident.
I'm more a fan of feeling specific and concise.
I almost forgot I wasn't eating this week.
Somewhere between feeling unfinished and two cups of coffee.

another evening of friends with pizza would be nice
right about now. or when this thing is over.
A nice fire and some candles, some hot chocolate, a movie
and some awkward glances. We're both wondering how I feel.

...

I should probably get some reading done now, with all this free time. Let's hang out later.

- Adam

No surprises

2008-01-16T10:46:00.001-08:00

Fasting, Day 3.

I was talking to someone about this fast this morning, and I found myself very discouraged afterwards.

Mainly because a) I don't know much about fasting, other than what I have read in books, b) I don't know much about poverty for the same reason, and c) The first two days have felt like a week.

The background story: Some students from my school started this partial fast to build a sense of community, and talk about poverty and agricultural issues. We meet once a day and each have 2 cups of rice and half a cup of beans.

Yes. this is not them most intelligent thing I have ever done.

So far, I'm feeling too weak to care about issues, and a little too hungry to concentrate. Thus the need to re-evaluate how I'm doing this... less tea, more OJ and water. One of the things I'm figuring out really quickly is how much free time I have, with all the not eating. Eating is pretty much my hobby.

I suck at nutrition. One of my goals for this week should, essentially, be to eat healthier after this is all done.

As well, I'm starting to appreciate bread a lot more, now that I can't have it for the next 12 days. Freshly baked break, broken with friends. Bah.

This will get better... as soon as I get some vitamins and juice. And as soon as I get my head together and figure out what this "not eating" thing is supposed to accomplish with the 30 or so students I am leading. What does any of this have to do with solving poverty, or doing anything of great consequence?

I'll get back to you.

I think, therefore, too much

2008-01-13T17:38:00.001-08:00

Ok, seriously. When the only person that comments on my blog is a spanish spam advertising site, there must be a problem. gah!

(friends who do comment here, do not be offended. your feedback is appreciated. word).

Secondly, to my great shame this blog could have the least to do with my actual life. I'm sure that if you, who have never met me, you would be surprised (no, really).

However this works, I find when I write it has less to do with my daily life and more to do with venting deep unspoken thoughts. I probably I think way too much.

Just a quick thought I wanted to throw out there.

Thirdly, I'm thinking a lot about how I should not be chasing after ideals. In other words, my friends and I seem to chase after this idea of "home" a lot- what does home mean. And the more I talk about home the more I sense that home is as close as a loving relationship, a holding of someone's hand, or an hour devoted to slowing down and being with someone. Whatever.

I could either chase after some ideal my entire life- like the ideal wife, car, house, job, future- or I could stop, and ask myself "is there some way to find something I love about life today?". As opposed to waiting for all my ducks to be in a row (to use a cliche that is really funny to picture), to wait for everything to be together in my life.

So thats that. This journal is, in my mind, a poor representation of myself sometimes. I can't remember when it became a place for me to just vent... or be too hard on myself for that matter.

On a side note, my friends and I are starting this fast called the "least to survive" fast. Basically for the next two weeks we are only eating the minimum amount of food to survive- a cup of rice and some lentils once a day.

I'll definitely keep you posted on this one. Thank you for bearing with me, and all my random doubts and wonderings.

Later.

some comfort and some grace - reprise

2008-01-11T20:58:00.000-08:00

I'm starting to think that this idea of home has to be about relationships.

A friend of mine wrote an entry about home on, of all places, facebook. He wrote;

"What is it that makes home? Part of it seems to be in my trust in God's faithfulness in His provision for me. There's certain peace that comes from knowing that the Father will take care of His son. No home would be complete without that peace We got onto the conversation about home". And so I responded, with this:

"maybe home is just about where find out who you are. where you feel most like yourself, the real you God intended you to find.

and maybe thats all this faith is. a bunch of people who feel lost, and are looking for belonging.

I have come to believe, with a lot of hurting and hope, that we find God in the nuances of our creative nature. God wants us to find out who we really are as humans beings because we are important... so stupid things like feeling hurt, heartbroken, or overjoyed are perfectly legitimate to feel.

home, then, is where you can feel safe to open up to change- where you can feel safe enough to go into the deep places of the heart where you find out who you are."

In one of my classes yesterday a speaker asked the question, why do we feel the need to rest? I started to think the reason we rest is to "be ourself". Rest is removed from trying to impress people, trying to win approval. When I rest it's as if I am acknowledging that who I am is important to someone else.

~

So, thats that. I was hoping to sit down, enjoy a relaxed morning and write calm prose. Instead I sort of woke up feeling anxious, unrested, worried. One of these days I would love to see all this stuff, all the thinking that comprises too many mornings wasted, unfold in the context of a narrative- a story told carefully, allowing the most held-dear insights time to unravel and grow.

I'm not, personally, a fan of stories that give you a list of dry details and events. I like those stories that are made to breathe.

I really need to just figure out how to find rest. There must be some magical formula behind this... Having my time better managed? Putting all my plans for this semester, including assignments, on paper? Spending less time inside? Reading a bit more?

Whatever. I'm not too worried. I owe you some prose.

Listening to:

Waiting

2008-01-05T18:08:00.000-08:00

So, thats that I guess.

I took the greyhound (never again) home to Abbotsford today, and then got on the wrong transit bus twice. Then I walked home for two hours.

In Vancouver I;

1) Spent way too many hours at the Drive
2) Spent, also, way too much time on Burrard
3) Did not spend enough time at JJ Bean
4) Performed poetry at Cafe De' Soleil (randomly).
5) Visited Georgia O Keefe and Emily Carr at the Vancouver Art Gallery.
6) Drank a bottle of Island Lager on a cold and windy night looking out at lights of Vancouver across the ocean water. Beautiful.

7) Watched many a beautiful film: Juno, Garden State, Blood Diamond.

Now I'm home, and trying to adapt back to college life while toying with the notion of writing some good poetry. one of these days.

I'm planning my first concert this year with a friend, at a City Blends. If you really want to go, its Saturday at 7.

I learned more than I could imagine in a few days of traveling. Such as how to talk to a crowd instead of at a crowd when performing. And now I know less about home than before.

Which is humbling, almost enjoyable, a bit sad. I wrote in my journal yesterday that "It's God's gentle way of saying 'It's Ok. I have this all figured out for you. All you have to do is enjoy it"

So, this year is going to be a lot of that. Hopefully.

Listening to: Death Cab for Cutie - Transantlanticism
Reading: Traveling Mercies
Watching: Born into Brothels
Thinking: You (as always).

~

these snowy nights can remind me of my finitide,
gently tapping on my arm.
the smell of pine trees and cold air falls
and leaves like a faded holiday season lost of warmth and memory.
We'll look back fondly in a year or so.

The most beautiful and pure aromas have lived here with me,
pinned to my walls and the ceiling every morning,
every night I was praying for another today, another chance to get things right.

endless numbered days

2007-12-31T16:59:00.000-08:00

Hello Friends.

You will all be happy to know that I am safe in Vancouver, after three days of fun in Washington state.

Some good stuff I found:

In downtown bellingham I found one street with three packed bookstores! I came pretty close to spending an entire day there. My time was divided between The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath and some Luci Shaw poems (foolishly, I did not purchase either of those). Eventually I just picked up a copy of Traveling Mercies for my mom.

I found this great artsy town called "Fairhaven", with a cafe that served vegetarian food, a record store right next to an italian coffee place, inside a building with a small fountain and winding stairs. It was heaven.

At the record store I found copies of "Our endless numbered days" by Iron and Wine on vinyl. This purchase will definately turn into many nights of tea and conversation.

I had concluded that I will definately live inside an artsy town when I grow up.

So. I will keep you updated. I need some down time. or some home-made alfredo sauce.

Thus is my traveling life.

traveling grace

2007-12-27T11:33:00.000-08:00

Imagination seems to be the thing least valued in our present culture. There is a lot of attention given to fantasy, but the difference between fantasy and imagination is that in fantasy the story has us at the center of it, indulging us. Imagination takes us beyond ourselves.

- eugene peterson

A Christmas Journal: Chapter 6

My life is turning another chapter today. Kind of. Upon realizing that this isn't the home I thought it would be, I'm going to go look for it.

I'm traveling to the Seattle area tommorow to meet up with my mom, who moved there this year with a man she met online. It should be good. Apperantly she lives in a tiny place called "Ferndale", so many adventures and conversatians involving my weird progressive ideas will ensue.

Then after that I'm going into Vancouver, the most beautiful city I know. On this stretch of my trip I will be:

1) taking the skytrain to the neighborhoods I frequent- Gastown, Granville, East Hastings, Commercial.
2) Stopping into the Vancouver Arts Gallery for the "Georgia O'Keefe" exhibit.
3) Sitting down at JJ Bean
4) Meeting at least one or two people of the creative and feminine persuasion. hopefully. If I can get over this whole "insecure" thing.

5) Writing something.
6) Conversing about life.
7) chasing a skunk. or a squirrel.

And just for fun, I'm going to put together a collection of things that every person in their twenties should experience. If you haven't already experienced these mainstays make sure you do... today. unless you already have (Heather):

Illinois - Sufjan Stevens
Five Leaves Left - Nick Drake
Transatlanticism - Death Cab for Cutie

Garden State
The Royal Tennenbaums
Good Will Hunting

Blue Like Jazz - Donald Miller
Traveling Mercies - Anne Lamott
Life after God - Douglas Copeland

The list goes on. On a side note, I always feel like a bit of a tool when I look back on a long blog and realize that I have not said much. Or, I have said too much and lack a central uniting theme.

Sigh. I'll work on that when I'm traveling. I think thats what traveling is all about, really- finding some wisdom in writing. You learn to say what is important, and work through the rest in solitude- working through the details quietly over a warm drink, enjoying the relaxing prospect of developing insights and connections.

Let's talk. Later.

- Adam

hiding in the paper, pretending not to hear

2007-12-25T01:09:00.000-08:00

So, it has turned out to be a fine Christmas. Today has been a lot of hanging out with friends, eating bad "chinese" food, smoking cigars, and pints of Keith's.

And watching the traditional Christmas movies: The Santa Clause, Home Alone, Almost Famous.

A Christmas Journal Chapter 5: Lessons of a Christmas alone.

- You need something to start the day. Without something to start the day, it becomes hours of nothing.

- Malls, even though filled with many people, will only make you feel more alone.

- In some cases it is better to go out for tea. It gives you an excuse to get out of the house.

- Red Peppers are not in season during the Christmas season.

- Yams and Sweet Potatoes, however, are (I think).

- I need to figure out some way to become more confident. Less depressed about life.

My roommate called me on that today. He told me I have to start talking about what is depressing me, work through it. I have to agree. Something I'll have to think about this year.

- I need to build up friendships, for those times when the community of school is not around. Though, there is hope in knowing I have a community to come back to, after all this.

- This home thing. I don't think I'm sincerely pursuing something called "home". As much as I'm just identifying with feeling sad/lost. A better thing to pursue could be as simple as honest/sincere conversations.

I don't know. This all seems like just another late-night desperate attempt at answers, trying to feel like I have at least one small aspect of my life figured out.

I think I do have a lot figured out. Now, its just a matter of accepting that. Accepting that, yeah, I'm a mess, but I do have a lot of wisdom to offer. I have said it before; How can you love someone else if you do not love yourself? How can you offer love to someone if you don't feel like the love you have to offer is any good? How can you offer your passions and gifts to someone unless you recognize how valid those things are?

something like that. I still have a lot to learn.

- The way to figure out who you are is through relationships. People that love me see things in me that I do not see in myself.

- Having deep moments of reflection is what being in your 20s is all about.
- I need to learn how to listen.

So. Thus is my first Christmas away from home, trying to learn something about myself. The journey continues.

All the best. Talk to you next week.

- Adam

Listening: Sufjan (this song is a gift for you).
Thinking: You
Feeling: Lonely
Sorry: This entry was so long.

older song meant for an older day

2007-12-23T17:10:00.000-08:00

December 23: A quick update.

I'm cooking some sweet potatoes right now, and sitting beside a cup of tea from Harrogate . Tommorow I'm planning on spending the day with my friend next door, having hot chocolate with baileys and watching bad Christmas movies.

I think tonight I'm going to watch the movie "Eastern Promises", which is a bit unnerving. I think its going to be a tough one.

I'm trying to process the fact that I'm not seeing my dad or mom this Christmas. I'll have to tell you how all this goes tomorrow. overall, its not so bad. Well I mean, its tough, but I have a community waiting for me when all this is over. The grace of this college life.

That is my today. Hey, let's all try something: hang some green and red materials around the house, turn on some lights and music, and bring in branches from trees outside (because I think the smell of actual tree smells better than those cheap plastic christmas trees. I am not down with fake trees). I think by then it will feel enough like christmas to get over the fact that it feels lonely. We might find some solitude.

Until then, all the best. Tis the season. And all the rest.

but they're just old light

2007-12-21T16:32:00.000-08:00

I have a story. I feel insecure. And I don't know why.

This is my first christmas alone. My first Christmas apart from the context of family. I decided that the only place I would find an inherant sense of healing, of solitude, this Christmas was here, in my new home in Abbotsford. I am alone. I am an Island.

I don't think this time alone is working all that well. I wonder if trying to force the thought of home on this house is worth a shit. ...If trying to force this house to somehow feel like a place where my shoulders aren't tense makes a difference. Where does one find a sense of love? a sense of living in that love and feeling fine?

deep sigh. Day two of my first Christmas as an adult. I like to think this life is progressive, and I'm not going to feel lost entirely by next year. I've said it before- one of these days I'll find what I'm looking for.

(I'm not sure what I'm looking for).

I'll leave this on a more positive note, something with a deep comfort: love is...

I have no reason not to answer the door.

2007-12-20T12:15:00.000-08:00

I got home from nanaimo yesterday, and I have spent a lot of time alone in my house since then. After a coffee with an old friend and a 5 hour commute back to Abbotsford I had a mexican dinner, and read poems and stories to youth group kids.

And, like i said, the rest of my time has been spent alone, moving couches around the house, unpacking piles of paper and clothing, trying to make my house feel more home-ey.

I decided to open one of the gifts my sister gave me, all of which I have determined are books neatly wrapped in blue paper. The gift turned out to be "What is the What", a story about conflicts in Sudan. This might turn out to be the best story I have ever read. But we'll see.

I think another one of my gifts is "A Thousand Splendid Suns" which, when placed beside my copy of "a long way gone" will give me a very compelling collection of stories. All of which came to me by chance.

So, speaking of Christmas, I now have nothing planned. I figured out the truth behind the saying "everyone has to leave their home so they can come back and love it for new reasons". This townhouse with cold windows, faded brown carpets, and stacks of books I have never read / payed too much for / feel guilty for buying so compulsively is now the closest thing to home that I know. and the question continues- what is home?

(home is where is spend too much money, apparently. Now, theres a good point. I think the overspending of money has a lot to do with insecurity. A lot of us feel insecure during the holiday season, and thus we spend a lot of money to distract us from our feelings, that driving need to feel a completeness that family is supposed to bring. end side rant).

Speaking of Christmas 2: its good, but weird and tough. All my immediate family moved out of Nanaimo this year. Though, my mom's friends still live there, and to me they are, maybe, better than "family". Now its just a matter of finding family here, in my apparent new home.

I think the two main things I will wrestle with in the next little while will be 1) figuring out how to make home feel safe, and 2)

trying to learn how to write more concise, pointed, entries. small excerpts of prose that speak to one aspect of the human condition, rather than skim over the many details.

next time. I promise.

we could have tea and conversation

2007-12-16T13:12:00.001-08:00

So, do you remember that story I told a while ago, about coffee that was eaten by foxes and then "excreted"?

Well, today I made my way down to a tea shop here in Nanaimo, and I picked up this tea called "Pu-erh", a tea which is stored in bat guano.

The tea this shop was selling was stored in guano for 5 years. I was told that a tea stored in guano for about a hundred years would cost in the thousands.

In the tea store there was a small wall with tea stored in green bins, which you could take down and smell. This one tea I smelled was like a forest fire, a rich smoky smell. I was really impressed. One of the things I picked up was a "flower burst", which is a ball of tea that turns into a flower in water.

So, now I have two new things to add to my list of things I love;
1) Teas stores
2) Henna. I was a party on friday, and I got a henna design on my arm. Henna is an indian plant-based stuff that you use to draw designs on your skin, then you let it dre, and it temporarily dyes the design on your skin. Take that tattoing.

What has my trip to the Island beeen so far you ask (besides a lot better than my last visit)? It started it off with me riding the bus and the ferry with a girl who used to go to my school, and me being too much of a loser to approach her (i suck).

I stepped off the ferry and walked immediately to the beach, and the forest area, beside the ferry terminal- the same forest I lived beside for a summer. It brought back some good memories of finding solitude in masses of green with the sound of running water.

Then I made my rounds at my favorite coffeehouses, which I used to frequent- Coyote Cafe, and The Buzz- both of which are solid coffee places.

Then I decided to have some calamari at a romantic mediteranean place with my roommmate, jeff. The whole time we were both wishing the other was of a more feminine persuasion.

Nanaimo's downtown, by the way, is a quiet place to be after hours. Its not hard at all to find a place of solitude in this town. Or cute girls that work at coffeehouses either. Both of which I kind of like.

But, I don't think I'm going to move back here anytime soon. I still like the idea of being within driving distance of both Vancouver and Seattle. And concerts. I like concerts.

Well, this has been way too long. I have much prose to give you in the next little while. I might work on that when I get home on Wednesday.

happy advent (can't wait to get back).

- Adam

we're both looking for something

2007-12-15T01:12:00.000-08:00

I'm going into Vancouver for awhile today, then stopping into Nanaimo for a week or so. By tommorow, I mean 4 hours from now.

Note to self- stop staying up until 1 am.

I feel a little sad. I think its the feeling one gets when leaving home. Or the feeling one gets when they return home.

I don't really want to "go home" per se. I want to just stay here in my townhome and feel like I have a life worth living. I'll be back soon enough to figure that one out.

These are the tough times in the life of a college student. For that small space of time you step out of a safe community, a place of caring. I think a lot of us wrestle with going home and expecting it to be a place of acceptance, a place where the person you are changing into is appreciated.

And, for a lot of us, that just doesn't happen. So, I guess there is a grace in realizing we have a safe place to "come home to" after stepping into family life again. I'm sure theres more to it than that, but I can't process it right now.

I promise you, very soon, entries about:

- Family
- how i have felt bad about my relationships in the past year, and how i need change.
- The need to slow down, live reflectively.

- anything profound, so I can get to sleep at night, and not feel sad all the time.

we'll see. I'll try and keep you posted on my trip. The important details. Not the dry stories and anecdotes that only i find amusing.

talk to you later.

guess you're the only one

2007-12-13T12:05:00.000-08:00

stuff I can talk about for the sake of talking:

1) I finished exams yesterday. which hasn't impressed me yet. I still have that insecure "gah, something is due tommorow" feeling.

2) Thought I'd shave today. I do not look like a man anymore. Damn.

3) I need a good haircut. I mean, an actual good style. Any ideas on where I should go?

4) I finished a bit of my indie poetry book this week. I should have a number of copies on my coffee table by the end of the day.

Though, after a years worth of meticulous processing and work it only came out to 30 pages. Thus is the creative process. Note to self: spend less time editing and more time writing.

5) I do not feel like writing today. It could be the coffee i had this morning was too weak, or that I no longer resemble a beat poet.

6) yeah. Its just a day with nothing to say. That will change come christmas. Once I find some magical way to make my shoulders less tense.

we'll see. I need to get on the road again soon.

I will never get over the fact that I missed lifehouse in Vancouver.

take me by the hand

2007-12-09T14:47:00.000-08:00

light snow.
light snow.

and some old music I don't like.
trying to think of a good phrase.
no use.

I can't stand my friends- for no reason.
just old quirks that only bug me today.
no use.

and my crappy computer. old, outdated
only five years old.
feel down.

I don't like the mirror. tired, worn out.
only twenty-two years old.
how do you rescue a day like today?

cold lines.
i draw some words with my hand.
today isn't going to give me life.
I'm not going to find the good phrase today.

light snow.
light light snow.
lets have a good talk, until we're on the same page.
or until we can’t do that anymore.
we only live two houses away.

they protect me from the storms

2007-12-06T16:54:00.000-08:00

lift me up and take me out of here

2007-12-04T16:43:00.000-08:00

Paper season continues, and I don't have any artistic drive to speak of. or anything interesting to say, for that matter. then again...

It doesen't feel like Christmas just yet. Which i think is appropriate, actually. I think that Christmas day, the coming of a long awaited messiah, should be anticipated, waited for with expectation.

They call the weeks leading up to Christmas "Advent", a tradition orignally intended to allow for the mystery of season. One thing I am discovering is my cultures distaste towards mystery. For some reason having everything figured out, packed neatly into a well designed explanation guides us. my culture doesn't like hurt, and mystery hurts to experience.

Walk through a mall and you'll see it. Plastic Santas, chocolate advent calenders, holiday kitsch and going into debt for months. Somehow we have traded community, simple conversation, with the need to buy something. call me cynical, but I think Christmas is supposed to have more depth.

Mystery. i think thats why it doesen't feel like Christmas yet. I'm still waiting.

On a side note, my roommate and I are doing a show in Nanaimo on the 17th. It will be my first time being home in a year. Even so, I'm going to spend Christmas away from home, hanging out in a townhouse... or in Vancouver.

i should tell you why sometime. as soon as all my assignments are done. or as soon as I have a pint beside my coffeetable. i like this plan.

later.

where its at. feel free to send me a letter.

Listening to: The Arcade Fire.

take your eyes off me, just for a moment

2007-11-29T19:02:00.000-08:00

I'm in the closing chapters of "paper season" right now. Which means I'm working on my last of 3 ten page papers.

Its also the Christmas season, and in true student fashion I have been too busy to stop and reflect on what Christmas feels like. To me it feels like a lonely season of looking for family.

I should be sitting outside in the cold with a smoke, putting together thoughts with friends, being real as opposed to desperately trying then feeling bad about it later. i took a couple shots at being human this week, and now i feel bad about it. thus is life.

side note- i'm way too vague when I journal here, because i don't want to come across as one of those creepers who reveals "a bit too much" online. then again, my handmade journals feel very unfulfilling to write in today.

side note 2- I grew up with the gift(s) of guilt and sarcasm, and they have haunted me to this day.

It is the Christmas season. sometime before this year has run out of time to fill with moments I'm going to drink my fair share of fair-trade Sumatra coffee, and I'm going to write something pretty while I can.

We'll see.

Side note 3 - my whole plan to parent myself at age 22 is not worth shit. Let me be the first to say that I need some mentor figures in my life. thats me. (take deep breath now).

- Adam

listening

good mornings and cold trees

2007-11-25T10:33:00.000-08:00

the sun in the morning,
a simple white sky, behind a townhouse, not risen yet
and two quiet evergreen trees. my sliding glass window is blurry,
and its too cold to cast it open.
i'm nothing.
i can't pronounce a word. i can't write one eloquent note
or dynamic overture.
i don't like myself that much.
i can only go so far with words.

birds are leaving over autumn's ending

2007-11-20T15:25:00.000-08:00

I just finished a three page paper, in one sitting, so I thought I'd reward myself with a little bit of writing prose time. right now.

So... here I am... In the collegium. Dang. This is not as easy as I thought it would be.

So, I almost completely burned out yesterday. I had this fun idea to put on a concert during exam season, with three papers haunting me on the horizon like 3 dark sailed pirate ships.

My burning out involeved the planning of a concert, with Adam Loewen (a friend of mine) and Jacob Moon (some guy from Ontario).

But, actually, the concert was really good. I think there is an inherantly relaxing quality about coffee paired with acousic guitar and friends.

The whole thing about me planning events by myself, while also trying to think about personal life and school work, is not going to fly next semester. Next year I'm going to plan less, and love more.

Let me leave you with this: a poem from that a girl I like wrote (i should probably tell her, one of these days. assuming that she doesen't read this, or does not already know. girls are very cunning that way).

I bought some eggnog at superstore
it's in a carton in my fridge; open cause i already had some
couldn't wait
but now
its waiting
for coffee and friends

more to come.

- Adam

And, PS- I know it sounds like I'm treating girls like static objects, instead of unique persons. Which is something every guy deals with, but not one talks about. as soon as you start treating a person as an "it" it becomes easier to abuse that person, disrespect them, try to use that person as the means to an end.

there is a great value in being human.

so, let this be a lesson to me. appreciate friends. and really spend time trying to connect with a person, rather than spend an evening trading clever comments and calling that intimacy. forget that.

she says wake up, there's no use pretending

2007-11-17T17:04:00.000-08:00

This weekend has been a lot of:

- childlike affectionate notions set to a background of green with iron and wine

- bad tea. good coffee made poorly (my coffeemaker broke).

- trying to write prose. not doing so well.

- trying to write homework. doing worse.

- insecurity, or something like it, paired with anxiousness and self-doubt.

- a poem a wrote that I do not like to read. annoyingly, people seem to like it.

- set to a background of jose gonzalez

- nervous public speaking (i need to stop touching my face, appearantly)

- singing "naked as we came" between unexpected conversations, set to some rainy days, and nights not sleeping.

This month is not the least bit predictable. or formulaic. something like this takes a lot of patience to feel comfortable with.

oh well. come visit. I'll make you some good coffee, made poorly. And we'll sing some iron and wine and read prose.

with hot chocolate, and a warm fire over candlelight.

O come, O come, Emmanuel

2007-11-15T09:54:00.000-08:00

I'm trying this new thing out, these days, in my random habit of journaling. that is abiding to a set amount of guidlines for a decent entry;

a) always having a coffee on hand
b) writing after a good day / a day spent with a special someone
c) having something of concrete interest to say
d) being able to say that concrete thing in a concise, well thought couple of sentences instead of effing long paragraphs.

Today is a really good day for christmas. After hours of homework I'm going to put up the ol' lights, light up the ol' candles, and sit in the glow of a fire in the chimney with hot chocolate, watching beyond the sea.

hopefully with a girl. gah, i'm so lonely. that i will not lie about.

And I might write more about christmas... good, cheery, childlike stuff as opposed to "blah, my life is so lame, i feel so lousy, i wish it was snowing and not raining and i wasn't lonely so often" stuff.

And, I'm considering moving out to a different place, and living alone for a little while. I haven't told my roommates yet. I love the guys, but i also love solitude... Time alone to just be.

So after class I'm going to go shop for lights, some cocoa camino, and a new coffeemaker... if the MCC thrift store has one. feel free to stop by.

one of these days I will have something to talk about.

later.

all the while I was outside watching the rain

2007-11-12T14:15:00.000-08:00

As the story goes, the Laureate / Jamison / Jeff show was pretty sweet. When Jamison played tons of people sat on the floor, and stage, during the set. Then Jeff played, and the crowd sat in awe of the provocative guitar talent.

And then Laureate, a band that sings a lot about the prairies, invited me on stage for the last 5 minutes of the show, to make fun of them and make people laugh.

Afterwards, I stayed up until 5 am with Erin (a girl I met last year-ish). We watched Royal Tennenbaums, listened to Sheree Plett, and tried to build a tent out of blankets. The next day we went to a church called "The Bridge", where two sections of chairs face each other, instead of at the stage. It puts the focus less on a band, and more on being with people.

My depressing thoughts about climate change were put to rest on Friday. I had one of those "random thing I just said that just happens to be profound" moments. Basically, I don't have to feel despairing or guilty about climate change. after all...

I didn't grow up in the building of a Industrial culture, and I'm not going to live long enough to see large scale climate change efforts take effect. I fall somewhere in between, in the generation thats waking up and realizing something has to be done.

And so, I can do a couple things;
1) Start consuming less of everything
2) Finding love in the simple things in life (lying on a blanket under a dark tree during a windstorm, sitting on a backeck with coffee).
3) Get creative. Yesterday I brought my own cup to church. Having my own sweet colorful mug to drink out of, instead of a throw-away, felt pretty good.

Oh, speaking of that, I totally made my own journals out of cardboard and hemp. Come visit, and see them.

and 4) Let my kids inherit solutions to the climate crisis, instead of more symptoms. As I'm discovering, I grew up in a culture that has ditched community, and forgotten how to be together. Thats one thing I can work on.

So, to conclude... I've got some hope. Now, if only I had some good prose. note to self- slow down at least 3 times a week. and write prose instead of facebook messages (facebook is lame for lunch).

In other news, it was really windy today. And when the wind hits the trees it makes this huge whooosh sound. Its one of those sounds you would love to hear while holding hands with someone. or, just wishing you were.

sigh. more to come.

- Adam

keep the car running

2007-11-11T09:00:00.000-08:00

The Peace Festival, which I helped plan out, finished yesterday.

And, I must say, it went ridiculously well. Its one of those "exceeded my expectations" things.

I'll give you some details tomorrow. I'm just sort of throwing this entry together, to let you know life is alright. I'm feeling pretty good about things right now.

Listening: Arcade Fire
Drinking: Columbian, Guatemalan, and Bolivian coffee
Waiting: To relax and write a good entry, for once.

Thinking: of a special someone

later

not enough

2007-11-08T08:54:00.000-08:00

tonight: I'm reading some prose.

Tommorow: I'm hosting a concert.

After that: I'm living a more simple life. And writing a more simple journal.

Eventually: I will perform at a coffehouse in Nanaimo (The Buzz).

And: Get over myself.

After that: I will work at a coffeehouse. Or, fall in love with a girl who works at a coffeehouse.

We'll see.

&

when they say you're not that strong,
your not that weak, its not your fault.
When you climb up to your hill, up to your place,
I hope you are well.

- our lady peace

this glancing life is like a morning star

2007-11-06T18:06:00.000-08:00

Once I found myself, I realized God was there all along.

- postsecret.com

I'm working on a paper right now, and its not working out so well. Although, yesterday i came home and realized i did not have much to do... that the concerts i am putting on were fully planned, and the homework was reasonable.

But, now being back for a day and a half i'm starting to feel some anxiety creep up on me. Which sucks.

I have this weird thing about me, i have realized. I feel good about once or twice a year. For one or two days a year i get to feel confident, relaxed, purposeful. And it seems like the rest of the year is spent building up to that day.

then the next day its back to normal. I'm also starting to realize how down of a person I am, and I have this fear that my friends don't like me as much because I'm always complaining.

shit.

I think that the small things in life pile up after awhile. And the to do list gets so backed up, that it shuts you down. And in the mess of trying to get things done you forget the important things; like writing, breathing, having time to just "be".

I think there is something to be said for living a simple life. With the time we spend doing less, we could spend time with the ones we love, being real. And with the cash we save by buying less useless crap, we could buy some food and invite our friends over.

I have a lot of weird ideas like that. I tell myself, often, that trying to live this simple life I'm always talking about will effectively wreck my "feel good about once or twice a year" theory.

deep sigh. hmm. anyway, I think in my next random, seemingly pointless, entry I'm going to talk about local food. and farmers. and the importance thereof. and then i can make you some pie.

if we do decide to share pie, please reassure me of something- that people don't hate me because I complain too much. I'm trying to give this whole "learning to love yourself" thing a shot.

see you later. ;)

PS- i was wondering something. i think that i have a lot of love to give. and i think one of the reasons I feel down is I'm having a hard time finding out how to give love. but thats another conversation altogether (this "trying to be human" thing is more work than i thought it would be).

weekend in the city 4: in a way i lost everything i believed in

2007-11-03T20:23:00.000-07:00

i think this is going to be my last entry until next week. because i'm thinking too much.

stuff that happened, that was not neccesarily a big deal, all that much;

1) saw some picassos, warhols, and rembrandts, and greek-women-statues at an arts museum.
2) ate an amish sandwhich
3) drank some sam adams (it kind of sucked).
4) reflected on new york.

i have never loved vancouver more since coming to new york. this place has big landmarks, but it doesen't have a single coffeehouse that i can find, or much of a community mindset.

commercial drive on the other hand...

5) sat in my room at the seafarers.

feeling: sad-esque. i'm not really "taking this all in" as much as i am just "letting it happen", as dave described it.

realizing: i am a very self-reflective person, which is both good and horrible. for all the trying to figure out who i am, i'm still having trouble with loving myself (unselfishly). or something.

6) the sessions today were about factory farms, and local food. i'm considering becoming a vegan again.

7) listened to some damien rice. no wonder i feel so down.

i'm coming home tomorrow, to plan events and write that ten page paper. i wish i could describe this trip a little better, or at least pull some kind of profound statement out of it, but its just not happening.

i promise you, yet again, some prose. as soon as i find a decent coffehouse / as soon as i get back to the pacific northwest. and i promise to listen a little more, instead of talking all the time.

we'll see, soon.

weekend in the city chapter 3: let down and hanging around

2007-11-02T12:01:00.000-07:00

i'll keep this list short because
a) i'm getting sick of my own voice
b) i'm sitting in a session, overlooking the UN building. Yesterday we (dave, renee, and other random people and I)

a) took a tour of the UN
b) stood beside east river
c) ate sketchy mozza ball soup from carnegie
d) rode sketchy subways
e) took in a comedy show on broadway

f) walked down times square, the land that never sees the dark of night. more stories later.
g) considered seeing rent. still considering.
h) hung out with abby. more stories later.
i) heard dave tell the story about how he almost got shot the first night, twice.

thats the short of it. New York never stops moving. its kind of a gong show.

more later. i am too worn down to write.

PS- i was lying. theres no more stories later. i'm just feeling really apathetic. thus is New York.

weekend in the city 2: you belong to me

2007-10-31T21:46:00.000-07:00

(man, was my last entry ever down. i need to cheer up, get some cranberry juice, or something).

I'm in new york right down, typing on a tiny computer in a hostel, loacted something on manhatten island. which, is weird. the reality of me being here has not caught up with me yet. i'm going to try and write this entry as unself-righteously as possible. we'll see.

we started our jouney by almost missing our bus to seattle, at 7 am. Then we flew from seattle, across america, the mississippi and lake michgan. the flight was half empty, so dave, renee, and I had three seats to ourselves- which allowed for some prime sleep.

and the flight had this TV screeny thing built into the backs of seats, which had some good music. most of my flight was listening to "neon bible" and "wincing the night away".

then we touched down in NY- really abruptly. Then we found the subway and ended up in manhatten. taking the subway, by the way, is a lot more adventurous (an sketchy) than taking a cab. dave, renee, and I understand the concept of being a "backpacker" over a tourist.

being a backpacker allows you to step into the life of a place you are visiting, rather than observe the culture at arms length.

its halloween here, so the sub was packed with constumed people. after we found our hostel we found our first sketchy New York pizza.

quick tangent- new york pizza places are very straightforward. as in, say what you want, pick it up, go. its not like a typical subway where you take ten minutes to order and gradually go to the cashier. i'll explain it later. long story short, i shouted 'stromboli!" and ten minutes later i was eating a ball of dough with special guest- cheese.

after that we wandered into a park crowded with people, smoking clove cigarettes (to my shame. i feel lightheaded, and my mouth has a dry taste to it. never again).

so now i'm trying to find the balance of keeping to myself to avoid conflict, and meeting interesting people. tommorow we're going to try and watch a broadway show, and drink pints of samuel adams.

and maybe, sometime between being tired and anxious, we'll get to walk through the village. i almost feel guilty for getting to do all this.

there are many more details, which are probably irrelevant, and i'm dead tired. tomorrow, we start discussing sustainability and climate. my head will be full for years to come.

later.

a weekend in the city, chapter 1: ghosts from broken homes

2007-10-30T19:26:00.000-07:00

I'm flying out tomorrow. so starting a travel journal seemed appropriate. I'll be on the run until Sunday, so hopefully that inspires many "prodigal son"esque writing. meanwhile, i'm stressing out about next weeks peace festival.

I'm trying to figure out which books to bring. my heart is telling me Blue Like Jazz and Traveling Mercies. If my copy of Life After God had arrived via mail by now, that would probably find some space in my backpack as well.

I checked out the hostel i'm staying at online- the seafarers- which definitely seems built for the sake of young adulthood. I'm down.

I wrote a pre-trip poem, which turned out a little bitter and scared of the unsureness of this trip. I swear a lot, i won't lie. swearing is one of those "i really want to feel human" things that i love. right up there with beer and artsy movies.

I realized that i don't have a good jacket... so rather than try and find a ride to commercial drive, the place where all good jackets reside, i stopped into Valhalla Pure. $100 later, i have a new jacket... and a whole lot of conviction. damn.

i really want to listen to some music, and forget about stress. forever. i promise that these journals will be progressivley less crappy and depressing. it just feels like one of those nights.

i'm having a lot of those lately. lets have some down-time when i get back. i'll bring the tea.

later

listening to: cities

- Adam

because this city, this city is haunted.
theres no hope left for these souls.

- alexisonfire

but I still haven't found what I'm looking for

2007-10-28T15:37:00.000-07:00

merits of discussion:

a) my indie poetry book is coming together. does anyone know where i can publish this thing, other than staples? furtney?

b) mark centre was pretty good. i was too afraid to leave most of the time, so i slept in pure solitude the whole time. my reflection is that :
b.1) I need to listen more
b.2) I am a solidtude driven person
b.3) I need to find a place of solitude and quiet i can call my own.
b.4) I am a very insecure/self-conscious person

i think the proper responce, is to try and thank God as sincerely as I know how, and walk on.

on a lighter note, this week i'm starting to care less about "having a relationship" for once in 6 years.

c) i was walking by safeway a bit depressed (because my new value village pants look like crap and feel like shit) so i bought a couple holstens at a nearby "store". one to celebrate leaving, and one to celebrate returning home.

hmm. it does feel a bit like I've hit rock bottom, now that you mention it. its not such a bad thing. the journey continues.

listening to: Aiden Knight

walk on home

2007-10-26T15:45:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting beside the big window at my school, the one that faces the parking lot where the boys dorms used to be. and i'm sitting beside an empty cup with a spoon, where ice cream used to be. i want some more ice cream.

and i want a silent retreat. a lot. abbotsford is much different that nanaimo, in that there are no places to escape... no random secluded forests, no waterfalls or lakes or oceans. its not hard to feel really disconnected in this town.

I think if you spend too much time inside it will become too familiar, and thus stop giving you the sense of comfort and safety that it used to. its one of those annoying little life lessons college is teaching me, thus the search for a place to call home continues.

next week I'm flying to the united nations in new york, to talk about environmental issues.then the very next week i'm putting on a poetry show, planning a concert, and trying to get my mom to cater a dinner at my school. what a life.

I'm really worried about this trip, i won't lie. well, I'm not so worried about the travel itself, as much as I am worried about the dress code: "business casual".

I don't have a single pair of pants that fits that description. (pants have made my life stressful yet again). So i'm going to go down to value village to buy some, just to spite the term "business".

my life will never be centered around the concept of "being busy". screw that.

tonight, i'm getting a case to share with my friends, and i'm going to reflect on my perpetual singleness. mmm. i love a good case. and i (kind of) love being single, as being single gives me the license to take stupid adventures and write pointless journals.

in other news, something has to change. my life, as it is now, feels disconnected, and insincere. i need some escape to a quiet place, very soon.

the library sessions: I'm afraid of what you'd say

2007-10-23T18:41:00.000-07:00

and i've asked myself to walk that road tonight.
is it worth the wait, the cold and sleepless nights?
when will I get it all together?...
or is it all supposed to fall into place?

the day is long and restless.
I've asked myself not to feel so worthless.
its hard trying to feel loved sometimes,
and the words don't feel enough.

there is an ocean two hours from my house,
and i wonder if it still tastes the same.
my shirts are all dry, and lost of that
and my hands need something more.

I wish some time alone would feel more comforting,
I'd give you more peace if I could.

to be continued

my girl america's just a youth in this world.

2007-10-17T10:41:00.001-07:00

(I'm writing a paper right now, and I don't know what I'm talking about. so I'm going to distract myself).

Its a pretty overcast day today. I'm sitting in CBC's Collegium right now (aka, the place off campus students chill), and feeling generally alright, besides getting only 4 hours of sleep because i was up until 1 last night reading blaga dimitrova. it looks something like this:

and i'm listening to some mat kearney. its a good life.

My first concert is tonight- a show called "CBC Storytellers". As far as I know, its going to be 7 artists playing songs on guitar, drinking sumatran coffee, and telling stories. I think I might read some poems too. I have high expectations.

and the spot we picked for it is rocking. Its in the student lounge, in front of 3 big windows that face three trees to the left, and Columbia Place. And its going to be rainy, which should give it that "BC Concert" feel. I wish I could show you a picture.

Yeah. man. Life is on a bit of a drag. The whole 4 hours of sleep, 3 papers due, talking to friends who feel the same, thing can get tiring. I got to have coffee with a friend, who i'm pretty sure does not read this, last night, which was cool. We sat outside starbucks watching south fraser drive at night, and laughing at a girl two tables over who was saying "i really wish i could get married".

then we hung out at her place, at a short table with pillows to recline on. it felt very "last supper" esque.

So. i'll wrap this up. Its going to be a whirlwind of a day.

listening: kendall payne
reading: travelling mercies
drinking: water
thinking: you

later.

the balcony sessions

2007-10-14T13:51:00.000-07:00

wb yeats: he remembers forgotten beauty

Then my arms wrap you round I press
My heart upon the loveliness
That has long faded from the world;
The jewelled crowns that kings have hurled
In shadowy pools, when armies fled;
The love-tales wrought with silken thread
By dreaming ladies upon cloth
That has made fat the murderous moth;
The roses that of old time were
Woven by ladies in their hair,
The dew-cold lilies ladies bore
Through many a sacred corridor
Where such grey clouds of incense rose
That only God's eyes did not close:
For that pale breast and lingering hand
Come from a more dream-heavy land,
A more dream-heavy hour than this;
And when you sigh from kiss to kiss
I hear white Beauty sighing, too,
For hours when all must fade like dew,
But flame on flame, and deep on deep,
Throne over throne where in half sleep,
Their swords upon their iron knees,
Brood her high lonely mysteries.

- later.

the collegium sessions: chapter 3

2007-10-12T13:09:00.000-07:00

growing up lovely's not like it seemed.
you said you'd never end up that way.
and words, words spent more than seconds.
time wasted to feel beautiful.

walking likely is not as loving,
your step is predictably illusive
if not misinterpreted.
you said you never tried that way.

growing up is not without its pressure.
you perform or fall short of grace.
forgiveness is a concept seeming unfamiliar.
or else, love is impossible to predict.

growing up beautiful's not worth much.
you said you'd never look that way.
and worth is worthless if theres no love.
if only someone told you, all along.

waking with guilt is a tragic reprise,
you said the harsh words didn't hurt that much.
and you'd carry that, all you deserve,
never entitled to arms, or holding close.
growing up lovely's more than it seemed.

see the forest, when its wet with rain

2007-10-07T14:11:00.000-07:00

man, what a beautiful day. I'm sitting on the back deck of my townhouse watching it rain, and listening to "you belong to me" by jason wade".

with the sound of rain the background. ahh. life is really significant in the rain. especially after a week of tearing myself, and all my theories on love, apart... and just generally being too hard on myself.

screw that. i'm going to try something different this week

instead of testing the water, i'm going to jump on in and worry about what to do with the cold later.

this goes for life. and love in general. the whole "talk about something more than you live it out" / "map out a journey you don't intend to take" approach is not cool.

hmm. sigh. we'll see how it goes. if anything, by this time next week i will have stopped worrying. theres always the chance.

I'm going to toss my dreams of becoming an attractive philosopher. the philosopher part, at least.

~

theres something cold in the rain i can't explain
a transition to life, or lack thereof.
there is fear, we cover
as if to think that will save.
cover is a myth, and safety...

safety is something we use to run away.

there is something about standing i can't explain.
an awkward minute, or resistance to life.
there is fear of the rain.
standing still doesn't make any sense.
because
I overthought it way too much.

~

there is fear, I cover,
as if to think that will save me.
nothing makes sense.
some things don't need to.
i'm not one to get stuck testing the water
instead of jumping in.

i'll screw up. its worth it.
lose sleep. i don't care.
its still worth it.
think i'll try today.
its worth the risk of feeling broken

there is something about rain i can't explain.

i've never immersed myself in the ocean

2007-10-04T19:28:00.000-07:00

"If you try and find intimacy with another person before achieving a sense of identity on your own, all your relationships become an attempt to complete yourself"

- Les and Leslie Parrot

I'm not sure, but I think that this quote is wrecking my life.

~

further, "chasing after another person to have a relationship that makes you feel better about yourself spells certain disaster".

ever feel like you don't know where to turn?

in the morning, in the winter shade

2007-10-03T17:45:00.001-07:00

It was hailing today, just outside my window. I walked outside for a second to watch it, thousands of small pieces of ice hitting every surface, tapping the roof on impact. it was sweet.

I was busy buying books online at the time. I think i have an addiction. Last week i payed 40 dollars for a book by Blaga Dimitrova- an obscure bulgarian author no-one has ever heard of. and i felt bad for a good three days.

Then today i picked up 6 books... ranging in price from 1 cent to 73 cents. The books were less than 6 bucks, whereas the shipping was 20. a mixed blessing I think.

I will come right out, and confess my sins. I ordered:
Life After God, Douglas Coupland -17 cents
A complicated kindness, Miriam Toews - 1 cent
Eleanor Rigby, Douglas Coupland - 82 cents
Bird by Bird, Anne Lammot - $4
Walking on Water, Madeleine L'Engle - $2.40
What the light was like, Luci Shaw, $10.80

and Journey to Oneself, Blaga Dimitrova - $38.

I'm going to feel real bad come tomorrow. then laugh about it when the books arrive, then feel discontent for lack of books again next year.

being a guy is weird.

maybe when we're older I'll be less afraid

2007-09-29T15:19:00.000-07:00

mother free me,
they beat my body blue,
bloody.
so boldly take me up to you.

I'm in no shape to share my point of view.
maybe failing's the first thing I can do.

devil, angel,
anyone you are.
place me safely
somewhere very far.

- miracle fortress, poetaster

------------------------------------------

listening to: miracle fortress

thinking: you

worrying: way too much