non-chalance is no fun

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

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

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.

a difficult week

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.

this writing life

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.

and here i rest

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.

older song meant for an older day

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.

I have no reason not to answer the door.

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

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

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.

they protect me from the storms

lift me up and take me out of here

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

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

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.

O come, O come, Emmanuel

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

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

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

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

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

(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 collegium sessions: chapter 3

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

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.