<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708</id><updated>2011-11-24T22:30:39.625-08:00</updated><category term='cell phone pics'/><category term='technology'/><category term='bible'/><category term='study'/><category term='books'/><category term='God'/><category term='social justice'/><category term='shopping'/><category term='LXVI'/><category term='making'/><category term='Asia'/><category term='podcasts'/><category term='art'/><category term='fair trade'/><category term='sewing'/><category term='links'/><category term='Job'/><title type='text'>Paint Pants</title><subtitle type='html'>shapes in your mouth - colors in your hands</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>41</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-602346223697226987</id><published>2011-02-21T19:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T20:25:18.358-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='study'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>This book ate my whole head.</title><content type='html'>I am reading &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Artists-Way-Spiritual-Creativity-Anniversary/dp/1585421464/ref=pd_sim_b_5"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Artist's Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; by Julia Cameron for a small group I just joined. I just wanted to put it out there and say the first twenty-ish pages of this are amazing. That is as far as I have gotten, in part because I read the introduction. (PS- the intro was good too.)&lt;br /&gt; I have two things from the first twenty that have kicked me in the face.&lt;br /&gt;First, is part of a list that Cameron says to read every day to remind yourself of basic spiritual principles of creativity. the whole list is fantastic, but this particular one made me super nervous. I actually felt my heart rate go up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;It is safe to open ourselves up to greater and greater creativity.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AHHHHHH! Eve typing that makes me nervous. Safe? Are you sure? I long for safety/ My lawyer husband tells me I am one of the most risk adverse people he has ever met.... and he is a lawyer. Well poop. he is totally right. I pack my carry-ons just so, so they are easily navigable in case I am suspected of carrying liquids in beyond the proper amounts, or heaven forbid the rouge nail clippers that could be stashed. Today I mentioned to him that I was considering getting an apple cozy. YES. An apple cozy. Like a tea-cozy, but for an apple so it doesn't get bruised in your bag. I thought it sounded brilliant... he gave me the amused/slightly-wierded-out-but-still-love-you look. He's so gracious with my psychosis.  After lighting a match and blowing it out, i have been known to run it under the tap before throwing it in the garbage. I don't want garbage fires. I also regularly check my drug interactions online. There are a number of other things I don't stress about, but there are plenty of things I do. Just tonight I stepped outside the cross-walk lines when crossing the road, and due to a convo last night, actually said to myself out loud "ah! contributory negligence!" because if a car were to hit me when i was out of the lines... well it could be viewed as contributory negligence! I AM A MESS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SOOOooo- when someone claims to me that something is SAFE, especially something that I know I love but that can be terrifying and soul crushing and plain hard at moments, I kind of have a freak out. There has to be some tidy painted cross-walk lines for me to walk in during my creative excursions so that I can't be hit by nay-saying and then told my negligence was contributing. SAFE!? Where's the crossing guard and the zebra walk way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I get it in my head somewhere. If God is the essence and author of all creation and creativity... the true source and light... and God is in some always 'safe' (and I don't mean that in a cross walk way) or good... then it follows that opening up myself to greater and greater creativity would be safe. And good. Not to mention very moral and right. Becoming more like Christ- the God-man... source, light, creator in flesh is our calling and my destiny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, yes it is, but paint me scared anyhow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have learned that God's version of 'safe' is ever clearly not American and ever clearly not backed up with the type of benefits package that may or may not include dental. Safe... yes. But NOT the definition of it that we know well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, I am going to read that everyday, and let it ruminate (like a cow) in my brain stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright. NUMBER TWO! This was a good kick in the mouth. Not sure how that works, but I imagine is something along the lines of a kung-fu super fan getting a wicked bloody nose from his venerated hero. I have never been a super-fan, so that is pure conjecture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right. Well. The second moment was when reading about two of the tools for recovering creativity. One is the 'morning pages' which i am not going to explain, because it is complicated, and the other is the artist date. The quick and dirty explanation of the artist-date is going out for two hours or so and doing something that furthers your love and momentum of your art.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When this was being explained to me at our small group, our fearless leader told me "this is something you are really good at." This first off shocked me... i have a hard time admitting I am good at things and to be called out right then and there was unexpected. After it was described and what could count as that.. art exhibits, craft projects, a good walk to search for inspiration, trying something new... I realized I generally am pretty good at this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As i read the book I think I identified &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;why&lt;/span&gt; I am good at this. Cameron describes this practice as quality time spent with the thing you love. She likens it to when families our couples go to counseling and are asked "so, do spend quality time together?" This month at &lt;a href="http://theaterchurch.com/"&gt;NCC&lt;/a&gt; we have been going through the LOVE series and one of the things in our resource pack at the beginning of the series was a link to take the &lt;a href="http://www.5lovelanguages.com/assessments/love/"&gt;5 Love Languages quiz&lt;/a&gt;. i have tried to read that book over and over again without success. Honestly I think my main problem is that &lt;a href="http://www.bennadel.com/resources/uploads/the_five_love_languages_how_to_express_heartfelt_commitment_to_your_mate_gary_chapman.jpg"&gt;the cover&lt;/a&gt; is generally heinous in my mind and I feel embarrassed holding it much like i am wearing a grandma sweater. The website is MUCH more pleasing to the eye and I didn't feel as if I had wandered into the thrift store valentine section without a way out. Phew! So I took the quiz, and quality time was my top love language. When I read Cameron's description of this tool I thought "aha! that is probably why I am somewhat innately good at this. I show my love through quality time, and art is something I love." My husband and art galleries are some of my favorite things that, if i were not properly watched, I might add into a song after &lt;a href="http://movieclips.com/sLbjZ-the-sound-of-music-movie-my-favorite-things/"&gt;"girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes."&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, this is a pat on the back to me that my creativity is perhaps not completely blocked, and clearly, by Cameron's appraisal, salvageable at the very very least. I am determined not to take this innate good thing for granted, but kick myself into keeping doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. That's that. This course is eating my face like real Thai food spice. It burns so good.&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-602346223697226987?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/602346223697226987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=602346223697226987' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/602346223697226987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/602346223697226987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2011/02/this-book-ate-my-whole-head.html' title='This book ate my whole head.'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-6634052849225584001</id><published>2011-01-30T21:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-30T22:48:48.398-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Surrender</title><content type='html'>Sometimes it is time to put up the white flag and surrender. This past week has been one of those weeks culminating in leadership retreat at NCC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love NCC. I love it for a number of reasons... none of which I am really going to mention right now... but there are a number... a big number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past weekend was leadership retreat. NCC pours a lot into their leaders, which is part of a sort of food-chain that grows purpose-filled leaders, and strives to make disciples that love Jesus. We have only been back in DC for a week and were pulled into leadership retreat and accepted with open arms. Even though our lives are messy right now, it is so good to be back with people who are working with what they have where they are right this minute. It encourages me. Sure, they aren't perfect, but if they were i would be worried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the final session of leadership retreat would down, there was a time of confession asking what we needed to confess to God and give to Him in order to go "All In." I knew that this was occurring at the end of the week-end, in part because I used to help plan this event. Still, I managed not to connect the dots on things God has been working on my heart with this week. I was reading in Mark some more this week. (Let me once again reiterate that i am a lousy Bible reader. I love it when I do it, but i definitely am a binge Bible reader, and still am working on getting better at that. ) This week I read over Mark 8 a couple times. In the first chunk it details a time when Jesus feeds four thousand people from a few loaves and fish... one his oft referenced miracles. Shortly after that miracle, he and his disciples are on a boat and the disciples start worrying about where the bread is going to come from for their upcoming meal because, well, they are on a boat. Nothing like forgetting snacks before a trip in the middle of nowhere. Jesus ends up scolding them roughly saying "Seriously guys? Have you learned anything from the experience we just had together? You honestly are still concerned about bread when I just fed a bazillion people with next to zip." Jesus even asks them how many baskets of leftovers they picked up, and the amounts are something in the neighborhood of BASKETS full. Still, the disciples seem to not quite connect the dots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The disciples and I have a lot in common when it comes to my tunnel vision. As a literary device the disciples are you and I. Let's not dumb down the brilliance of the complex stories of the Bible. I see myself so clearly in this story this week, because provision is something that I have wrestled over praying for and have struggled to have even tiny faith about. That mustard seed that Christians talk about sometimes seems so intimidatingly real and solid compared to the faith I am trying to belch out of my soul. Like the disciples my eyes and ears have failed to function on the spiritual realm. I have had huge disconnects in seeing God's miraculous provision for me and accepting it. I have even been able to acknowledge it to other people with my mouth but not been able to accept it with my heart and there are a couple big uglies of sinful junk heaps that seem to get in my way over and over again. Pride. Fear. Motives. Those three things keep me from fully living in God's plan for me, and this week I could feel God laying into me about my sin issues in those areas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate talking about sin. Part of me is very "I'm-okay-you're-okay-whatevs-it's-all-good-blah-blah-blah-hippie-hair-and-flowers" and I am coming to realize that that part of me is not sanctified. Sin is not okay, and not only not okay but it is really hard to talk about and difficult to define. What is a sin? I am not talking about what ARE sins... that's an easy thing to look up in a concordance or google the poo out of... but what is a sin. I am pretty sure it was my husband who, when asked this said "anything that keeps you out of community with God and/or others." I have generally tried to use that as a working definition, and it sucks. I want to be holy and set apart, but i am a messy mess. I have a hard time admitting when I am wrong, and I try to justify everything at all times. Somehow my inner self is still 6 years old and has to hit other kids back when they smack me and call people names and cry when i don't get my way. So when God is pushing at my concrete heart  get really bent out of shape and upset. Then when I am given a chance to confess these sins that God is pulling out of my death-grip, it is often those very same sins that get in my way of confessing. Pride. Fear. Motives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When that time came this weekend, I don't think I have ever felt more realistic about my issues, and honestly that seems like the biggest blessing. When God chooses to humble me in public, i usually turn into a crying snotty mess, and I find that extremely embarrassing, like being the kid in the dunce hat in the corner of the classroom. This time since i was paying attention to God working on my heart, I actually had a brain when confession rolled around. On the thinker to feeler scale I am truly a thinker. For most people who know me, that sounds bizarre since i am also fairly emotional, but i do make decisions based on thought and reason and not feelings. I don't trust my guts to tell me what to do, and my feelings lie when it comes to morality. So, having confession while still have a brain that isn't completely drenched in sad and panic chemicals was wonderful. I could truly recognize what it was that God wanted from me and how I was worrying about bread after witnessing a miracle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ian and I have been living out of suitcases for about two years, and have never been in serious want of anything important. We've had food, a roof over our heads, and we've been healthy. We've had BASKETS full of blessings above and beyond, and I still I lie awake at night wondering about where my bread is going to come from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Mark 9 there is all sorts of crazy that happens. Jesus brings the crazy where ever he goes. About half way through the chapter a man comes to Jesus asking for healing for his demon-possessed son whose life has been threatened by the seizures that happen to him. The father says something along the lines of "if you can heal him, will you please show us mercy and do so?" and Jesus replies "If I can?" (nothing like insulting God incarnate) and tells that man that all things are possible for those who believe. The man's reply is beautiful. “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This really challenges me and my pissy American-feminism and spoiled-middle-class-brat self. When I insult Jesus by saying "If you can provide for me, then would you please do that?" and God provides for me in a way that challenges the sins that bind me, I respond Him not with "help my unbelief!" but rather with lashing out of temper tantrums because i want a hand-out and not something that helps me. I want Jesus to do my homework and whisper the answers to me during the test. I want God to train for the race and do the weight lifting and puking in the streets and then when my even comes, for Him to pull a Freaky-Friday body switch and let me win the race. What i &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;don't get&lt;/span&gt;, pretty much ever.... is that he ALREADY HAS. he took my place in death, and I just can't grasp that because I have not experienced the final prize of his sacrifice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am at almost 2 a.m. pouring my guts onto the computer, because i need to remember this. i need to remember that i have confessed these things and that God knows that I know because we've been working on this, and now it is time to notice it and let it go in daily life. It's time to not wonder where the bread is, but to exclaim “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!” And upon hearing that prayer Jesus healed the boy in the story, and I can trust that he heals me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-6634052849225584001?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/6634052849225584001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=6634052849225584001' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/6634052849225584001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/6634052849225584001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2011/01/surrender.html' title='Surrender'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-1759638496896467989</id><published>2010-12-03T02:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-03T02:57:33.429-08:00</updated><title type='text'>when life hands you vintage photos...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/TPjM5xi8-tI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/rhcQj09JAjg/s1600/4990048018_614b3390b9_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 321px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/TPjM5xi8-tI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/rhcQj09JAjg/s400/4990048018_614b3390b9_b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546408234031315666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/TPjFDtoVDKI/AAAAAAAAAVA/K-kwzmYOOAc/s1600/Photo%2Bon%2B2010-11-23%2Bat%2B12.44%2B%25232.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 287px; height: 360px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/TPjFDtoVDKI/AAAAAAAAAVA/K-kwzmYOOAc/s400/Photo%2Bon%2B2010-11-23%2Bat%2B12.44%2B%25232.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546399608685792418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/TPjLhsNI8jI/AAAAAAAAAVI/Pwyp-3Dg_LE/s1600/4990048804_3168b31bdd_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 271px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/TPjLhsNI8jI/AAAAAAAAAVI/Pwyp-3Dg_LE/s400/4990048804_3168b31bdd_b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546406720769159730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/TPjFDtoVDKI/AAAAAAAAAVA/K-kwzmYOOAc/s1600/Photo%2Bon%2B2010-11-23%2Bat%2B12.44%2B%25232.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... become a digital time traveler!&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-1759638496896467989?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/1759638496896467989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=1759638496896467989' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/1759638496896467989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/1759638496896467989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2010/12/when-life-hands-you-vintage-photos.html' title='when life hands you vintage photos...'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/TPjM5xi8-tI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/rhcQj09JAjg/s72-c/4990048018_614b3390b9_b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-7675587402297995819</id><published>2010-11-05T04:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-05T06:45:06.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pretty sure Matthew 23 just ate my lunch</title><content type='html'>Well, not entirely. I did have some yogurt for the sake of my digestive tract.&lt;br /&gt;Still, I decided to stay at home on Friday of this week like I was trying to make my practice here in Kenya. It helps me feel centered having a day to rest and work from home. I generally spend the day editing photos and puttering around. Today i felt the need to get into my Bible. I have dropped the ball on that especially lately. I thought i was doing so well, but stress steals my peace and the moment i feel stressed out I turn to a lot of stupid things to return my joy... like television. Culture stress kicks my butt. I hate being followed by people begging for money, getting yelled at to point out that I am, in fact, a white girl on foot, and not being able to communicate clearly or even understand some of the people I care most deeply about here. So I think "shoot... I need some America," and I turn to our biggest export: media. Strangely this is probably the exact thing that causes me the most grief here. People see Americans as being rich, promiscuous, and self-centered and most of that comes from our media, and the rest comes from the bad choices of many individuals, aid groups, and governments mainly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today when I felt the itch to get back into scripture I could tell it is because I have been super deprived of it. God's word lives in my heart, and I know that because in weird moments, it moves its' way past my mumbling and lips and says things to people. I am always a little shocked when that happens. I think I have my parents to thank mostly for raising me with scripture, and then after that I think I have classical choral composers and hymn writers to thank. My nose has never been in that book as much as I think it should be. Memorization plans as a child didn't really work for me. I am really &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; good at committing words to semi-short term memory. This is part of what made me an annoying teenager... when my parents or teacher would say "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bekah&lt;/span&gt;, did you hear what i said!?" i would repeat it back to them word for word. totally obnoxious. They probably should have been asking me to paraphrase or contextualize instead...because that might have actually worked out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless, i got into Matthew 22&amp;amp;23 today, mostly because that is where I left off in October. I am not one of those Christians worth my salt, because I don't think I have ever really gotten through the Bible in one year successfully. I've been trying to keep up with a reading plan, but i still suck at it. I am however one of those people that hardly ever reads a book twice. Probably because when I read a good meaty book, I tend to read the page over three times or so the first time through. It takes me forever to get through even short books... but i do actually remember things and tend to actually use the things I read. Everything from Annie Dillard and CS Lewis to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hemmingway&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Roald&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Dahl&lt;/span&gt; has synthesized their way into my world view. So, when I reached Matthew 23 today I really was floored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i actually love this part of scripture. Mostly, due to the fact that in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Godspell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; when Stephen sings this part of scripture I really can feel it. I did not, however, realize just how much this was tied into what I am doing now and how ridiculous I feel as the hypocrite still trying to work for justice in Jesus' name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay... In Matt. 22 Jesus has just gotten done outwitting the Pharisees in a sort of "kicking a** and taking names" sort of style. It's pretty awesome, and i for one come out of it thinking "yeah! that smart guy over there... I am on HIS team, suckers!" It had to be pretty awesome to be one of those crusty disciples at the point thinking "our teacher is THE MAN!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then Jesus lays into his pain and longing for the righteousness of the people he has just schooled. He aches at their actions and groans in longing for their return to the fold of God. It's pretty intense.  The whole chapter whirls me around, but there were four chunks that really kicked me this time:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-HCSB-24101"&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-HCSB-24101"&gt;14&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;span class="woj" style=""&gt;"Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! You devour widows' houses and make long prayers just for show.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="woj" style=""&gt; This is why you will receive a harsher punishment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;sup class="footnote" value="" href="%22#fen-HCSB-24101b%22" title="&amp;quot;See"&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Part of the reason this caught me, i am sure is that the last version of bible I had probably didn't include it except as a footnote. That confuses me a little, but beyond the this-version-that version discussion, this really stuck me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been praying and keeping in my thoughts one of the ladies I have the privilege of working with here in Kenya. Doro is the backbone of the cafe and she challenges me to be someone of firmer resolve and steadfast character. She doesn't do that by her words necessarily but by her actions and interactions. Doro actually pulled me aside one day and told me I was a 'person of integrity.' That sort of blew my mind, seeing that I am often a world-class flake in my mind. This week has been especially tough because Doro has been 'up country' moving her mom from the family &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;shamba&lt;/span&gt; to a new house off the family property. Doro was actually using her week to build her mother a new home. She let me in on a little here ad there about what was going on. She told me she had a 'very bad' uncle that she will have to talk to when she got there. it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;wasn't&lt;/span&gt; until after she left that someone filled me in that this 'bad uncle' was threatening the life of Doro and her mother if they didn't move her mother of the family land. This is fairly typical in Africa, and Ian actually did work regarding the land rights of widows when he was in law school, but it still shocks me. this man is kicking his own old and sick sister of their land. Not only that he has threatened her life and the life of her children. What are we doing about this!? This isn't some hypothetical situation. One thing I have learned in Africa, that if it is happening here, it is probably happening in a more quiet and sneaky way in my own country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-HCSB-24110"&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-HCSB-24110"&gt;23&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;span class="woj" style=""&gt;"Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! You pay a tenth of&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span class="woj" style=""&gt; mint, dill, and cumin,&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span class="woj" style=""&gt; yet you have neglected the more important matters of the law—justice,  mercy, and faith. These things should have been done without neglecting the others. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-HCSB-24111"&gt;24&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;span class="woj" style=""&gt;Blind guides!  You strain out a gnat, yet gulp down a camel!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found this especially fascinating because of the food references. We love spices in our food in this family. i forget that spices were a huge part of wealth... or rather are a huge part of wealth. The spice trade etc etc... Still, thinking of our money in the terms of spices is somehow eye-opening to me. It isn't coins or cold hard cash, but it is more than a piece of paper tied to a hypothetical construct. These are things I can see, touch and even taste. Mint... love it in my tea... dill... what is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;felafel&lt;/span&gt; with yogurt sauce without this? cumin... my salsa always needs a little or a lot. Sure, tithing is great and giving to charity is wonderful, but the gain is part of what is in question here. If we need the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;exploitation&lt;/span&gt; of others in order to have our 'stuff to give back' what good is it? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Ian&lt;/span&gt; and I had a big talk about our temptations with materialism last night. i won't lie... I love a good fruitful shopping trip. BUT I did learn a few years back that industries are abusing people in a number of different ways. Slave labor, child labor, environmental dishonesty and abuse. Environment may seem like a strange one, but it effects the lowest of the low far before it ever effects the middle class or the wealthy. Dumps, factories, chemical storage sites... these things are often located in areas of low income and damage those people first, not to mention that the potentially hazardous material handling is also left to those who cannot afford to have a better job. Something is very wrong here. We may be giving our 10%, but how are we getting the full 100%? What are we spending the other 90% on? Are we harming others? Maybe not even in a way we can see, but it ways we can't see? We are happy to give to the bell ringer from Salvation Army, but where did that extra change come courtesy of? Have we strained the gnat and missed the camel?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This next one has been getting me for a couple weeks without having even read it in a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-HCSB-24116"&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-HCSB-24116"&gt;29&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;span class="woj" style=""&gt;"Woe  to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! You build the tombs of the  prophets and decorate the monuments of the righteous, &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-HCSB-24117"&gt;30&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;span class="woj" style=""&gt;and  you say, 'If we had lived in the days of our fathers, we wouldn't have  taken part with them in shedding the prophets' blood.'&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-HCSB-24118"&gt;31&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;span class="woj" style=""&gt;You therefore testify against yourselves that you are sons of those who murdered the prophets. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-HCSB-24119"&gt;32&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;span class="woj" style=""&gt;Fill up, then, the measure of your fathers' sins!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Blerg&lt;/span&gt;! I have often thought about what my life may have been like during crazy historical times, like the underground railroad or the holocaust. What choices would I have made? Sure I nearly venerate those who have gone before that have done amazing things for their fellow man in the face of danger, persecution and death. I visited Wilberforce's grave in Westminster and felt very connected to the abolition movement and thanked God for the work of his people. i have walked by statues of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Ghandi&lt;/span&gt; in DC and been thankful for those that stand up for the rights of those who are being oppressed and preach peace. I have pasted quotes from Mother Theresa in my closet to read each day.. but what am I doing here and now. Yes. I currently live in Africa working with refugees and women in difficult circumstances, but have i bet the family farm? I don't know. I don't think so. Historian Laurel Thatcher Ulrich's famous quote "well-behaved women seldom make history," has become a battle cry for feminists the world over, and I love it. In fact I love it and hate it because it challenges me. Am I too well-behaved in my world of development work. There are things at point at that make me feel warm and fuzzy that "no... i am still woman! hear me roar!" but i continue to wonder if I squelch that voice of God that dwells in me, and remain satisfied with high marks in behavior. Am I merely decorating the tombs of the prophets? or am I really trying to dig in with abandon to the mire of life that this world is presenting me. I have said it before, being in this position is much more challenging to my every-day faith than I thought it would be. i have more excuses to let little things slip because "i have been being so good!" Or I can ignore the needs of hose around me in more intelligent ways than I ever knew existed. Am I really daring to be the solution, or am I relishing in my decor or sainthood? That is tough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly... this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt; &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-HCSB-24124"&gt;37&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;span class="woj" style=""&gt;"Jerusalem, Jerusalem! "  The city who kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to her.  How often I wanted to gather your children together, as a hen gathers  her chicks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="woj" style=""&gt; under her wings, yet you were not willing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;I see this as one of the most sorrowful expressions of longing that I know of. i want this to be my longing for the people around me and for myself. I want to hear Christ's call to be gathered, and to run. i think of the pain of seeing parents who have tried to guard their children from danger ad vice only to see them continue down a broken and desolate path of self-destruction. How much more does a creator then hurt for the thing he has created that has become destructive in general, and even withe the ability to turn back and become an agent of peace does not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God! I can hear you telling me you have my number. Don't let me off easy. I am worried about asking that.. but don't know what else to ask.&lt;br /&gt;b&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3pr.freecause.com/FreeRice_script.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3toolbar.freecause.com/0RewardsMarker/bro_utils_js.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3toolbar.freecause.com/0RewardsMarker/bro_lm_js.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script&gt;             var fctb_tool=null;             function FCTB_Init_d8d2ea29b05cba4cb0a92938f4edd6f0(t)             {                 fctb_tool=t;     start(fctb_tool);             }             &lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-7675587402297995819?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/7675587402297995819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=7675587402297995819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/7675587402297995819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/7675587402297995819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2010/11/pretty-sure-matthew-23-just-ate-my.html' title='Pretty sure Matthew 23 just ate my lunch'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-6449421602547553792</id><published>2010-10-11T12:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T12:15:54.715-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saints in Slums</title><content type='html'>I had a strange experience this morning. I pass by the same vendors almost every morning. There are three men I often say hello to right past the questionable bridge on the dusty road. Joel and his brother are at the bottom of the hill and the man who sells maize is at the top. The man who sells maize told me he wanted to talk to me about something. When this has happened before with people I know or have met they usually want money or a job. Sadly I don't have either to just hand to people on the road. Even the Amani ladies I cannot just hand out cash to. it does not work this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today I told a couple people and asked what to do and the consensus was that I need to listen and then ask God. If he is wanting something i cannot give I should just tell him i cannot. *sigh* this sounds easy, but i find it hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So instead of walking back like a grown up and hearing him out I waited specifically to walk with Laurel*, who is one of the dearest women at the place I volunteer. She is Kenyan, but married to a problematic Ugandan man who, for what i can tell, doesn't do much and then beats her. She is just a little older than me in years...27 i think, but she has 4 children and seems very much my elder in poise  and wisdom. before the organization wide retreat, i found Lauri studying her Bible while waiting for the bus. Who knows how early she came to be there and read. She amazes me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On our way back I asked the vendor if he wanted to talk now or wait until tomorrow and he told me it was my choice. I told him i would talk to him tomorrow. I told Laurel what was going on and she told me first to be very careful since I don't really know this man. I know to be careful, but hearing it from a Kenyan somehow makes it so much more legit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We talked about it for a while and she instructed me that i should hear him out and pray very hard about it and let God tell me what I should be doing. Then Lauri told me how God knows my heart and if I am living and speaking in the Truth that it will set me free. You know, i have heard this phrase "the truth will set you free" so many times, but I don't think I have ever had it touch my core the way it did coming from Laurel. You can sometimes really tell when someone knows a truth they are sharing with you and Lauri knows this Truth. I had that feeling that I was in the presence of a giant of the faith.  A giant of the faith who lives in a slum and has a husband who beats her and four children she is scraping just enough together to get by. It was if my heart burst. I almost broke down in tears right then and there. The face of God in this wonderful Kenyan woman. I am so humbled and so in need of grace. Saints in slums. Oh Lord, convict me when I am self important or too pampered and spoiled to know the Truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-6449421602547553792?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/6449421602547553792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=6449421602547553792' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/6449421602547553792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/6449421602547553792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2010/10/saints-in-slums.html' title='Saints in Slums'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-4373197044788084723</id><published>2010-05-22T11:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-22T11:53:26.294-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I want to love people better than I do already.</title><content type='html'>I want to love people better than I do already. This is one of the reasons that I buy fair trade.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love people better than I do already which means not trying to make myself look better than them because I disagree with them.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love people better than I do already which includes not getting upset when someone disagrees with me.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love people better than I do already.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love people better than I do already which is why I want to not get angry at them when they say something that is selfish.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love people better than I do already which means I need to become less selfish.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love people better than I do already which means that I cannot take the easy way out just because it is easy, but only take it when it is right and just.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love people better than I do already which means not getting mad at people when they can't read my mind.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love people better than i do already which will mean stepping out of my comfort zone more often than i do now.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love people better than I do already so I try to think through my decisions and what their effects are.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love people better than I do already which will mean telling the truth sometimes when it hurts.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love people better than I do already so I need to study about love more.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love people better than I do already and I want to be willing to die for them if need be.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love people better than I do already and realize that whatever I have sacrificed now is nothing.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love people better than I do already which will mean saying sorry when I have done something hurtful.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love people better than I do already and I don't always know what that means.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love people better than I do already so I need to learn humility.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love people better than I do already so I need to listen better.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love people better than I do already so I need to be transformed and sanctified.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love people better than I do already and I don't know how sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love people better than i do already because today I did not love people as much or as fully as I could have and my heart is hurting about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-4373197044788084723?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/4373197044788084723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=4373197044788084723' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/4373197044788084723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/4373197044788084723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-want-to-love-people-better-than-i-do.html' title='I want to love people better than I do already.'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-3914112544767727307</id><published>2010-04-06T01:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T02:09:17.976-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='technology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='links'/><title type='text'>Love me some library</title><content type='html'>This is today's find on the interwebz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://digitalgallery.nypl.org/nypldigital/id?118537" title="Affiche pour la Pâte dentifric... Digital ID: 118537. New York  Public Library"&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.nypl.org/index.php?id=118537&amp;amp;t=r" alt="Affiche  pour la Pâte dentifric... Digital ID: 118537. New York Public Library" title="Affiche pour la Pâte dentifric... Digital ID: 118537. New York  Public Library" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it gorgeous!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ian and I have just moved into our new apartment, and while it is generally delightful, it has a few ugly quirks. One of those quirks is the sink in the hallway.&lt;br /&gt;That may sound funny to any friends from the US of A who may still pop by here once in a while, but there you have it. We have a sink in the hallway. It is set in a little alcove of mauvey-pink tile and is generally odd and a little ugly.&lt;br /&gt;So, I have been hoping to spruce the alcove up with a row or two of bunting featuring drawings inspired by dental illustrations. One of my favorite new places to browse images is the &lt;a href="http://digitalgallery.nypl.org/nypldigital/index.cfm"&gt;New York Public Library's Digital Gallery&lt;/a&gt; because it rocks my socks off and the featured collections are sweet.&lt;br /&gt;As I was searching for my inspiration photos or diagrams I stumbled upon this vintage french poster when searching under &lt;a href="http://digitalgallery.nypl.org/nypldigital/dgkeysearchdetail.cfm?trg=1&amp;amp;strucID=171329&amp;amp;imageID=118537&amp;amp;word=Dental%20hygiene&amp;amp;s=3&amp;amp;notword=&amp;amp;d=&amp;amp;c=&amp;amp;f=2&amp;amp;k=0&amp;amp;lWord=&amp;amp;lField=&amp;amp;sScope=&amp;amp;sLevel=&amp;amp;sLabel=&amp;amp;total=1&amp;amp;num=0&amp;amp;imgs=20&amp;amp;pNum=&amp;amp;pos=1"&gt;"dental hygiene"&lt;/a&gt;.  Needless to say.... AWESOME. Nothing like a turn of the century French toothpaste advert to really make my day!&lt;br /&gt;If you haven't been to the &lt;a href="http://digitalgallery.nypl.org/nypldigital/index.cfm"&gt;NYPL Digital Galleries&lt;/a&gt; you simply must go and check it out! I love my &lt;a href="http://www.loc.gov/library/libarch-digital.html"&gt;Library of Congress&lt;/a&gt; too, but NYPL's site setup seems a bit more intuitive to me and my web searches have seemed a touch smarter. Love me some library.&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-3914112544767727307?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/3914112544767727307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=3914112544767727307' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/3914112544767727307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/3914112544767727307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2010/04/love-me-some-library.html' title='Love me some library'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-5156127635955241009</id><published>2010-03-19T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T11:02:19.263-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Electric Car!</title><content type='html'>I already wanted one... this just makes me want one more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jAv6M1Bai0c&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jAv6M1Bai0c&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-5156127635955241009?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/5156127635955241009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=5156127635955241009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/5156127635955241009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/5156127635955241009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2010/03/electric-car.html' title='Electric Car!'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-5263949179722898831</id><published>2010-03-13T08:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T09:08:06.238-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fair trade'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='social justice'/><title type='text'>Loving in the moment</title><content type='html'>I'm fairly certain that the only person who reads this blog anymore is my husband... and I appreciate that he does read it. Still, I have been wanting to pick up writing again for the sake of trying. I've been getting razzed a little about how bad of a blogger I am so I will work harder.&lt;br /&gt;I figure a blog is a good place to collect and share great things that you find, so here is a website that Ian brought to my attention this week: http://tradeasone.com/&lt;br /&gt;﻿﻿&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs114.snc1/4839_109464564041_108769749041_2843858_3988020_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 225px;" src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs114.snc1/4839_109464564041_108769749041_2843858_3988020_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trade As One's mission is "to use sustainable business to break cycles of poverty and dependency in the developing world. We all have a conscience, and we want to give people the chance to use it when they shop."&lt;br /&gt;I think that is amazing and worth getting on board.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trade As One is one of a handful of organizations and shops that are getting on board to create options for consumers to buy goods that are made in safe working environments with fair wages that allow others internationally to have better lives by using our buying power to vote daily for justice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is an issue close to my heart as I have been traveling especially in this year. We are headed to Kenya soon and I am truly hoping that we can continue to find places that offer fairly made goods so that we can support social change internationally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is also an exciting find because with every fair trade option that opens, i feel one step closer to one day accomplishing a life goal, which is to have a wardrobe made completely of fairly made goods.&lt;br /&gt;Hooray for a new discovery that brings us one step closer to securing justice for many!&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-5263949179722898831?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/5263949179722898831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=5263949179722898831' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/5263949179722898831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/5263949179722898831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2010/03/loving-in-momnet.html' title='Loving in the moment'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-7104538590425268137</id><published>2010-02-27T14:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T18:51:20.164-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='LXVI'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bible'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='making'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Job'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>Job 10</title><content type='html'>I am back reading in Job. I am terrible about this everyday stuff! I think the only thing I have been truly consistent about so far this year has been taking my daily shower. Seriously. That is how bad this not-having-a-schedule thing has become. ugh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow...back to Job. This excerpt i thought was so lovely and amazing how it is nestled in Job's plea for God to remember that He made Job. Once again I am showing my crafty side in what sticks out to me, but I really think making metaphors are interesting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span&gt;Job 10:8 &lt;/span&gt;Your hands fashioned and made me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;and now you have destroyed me altogether.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;9 &lt;/span&gt;Remember that you have made me like clay;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;and will you return me to the dust?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;10 &lt;/span&gt;Did you not pour me out like milk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;and curdle me like cheese?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;11 &lt;/span&gt;You clothed me with skin and flesh,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;and knit me together with bones and sinews.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;12 &lt;/span&gt;You have granted me life and steadfast love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;and your care has preserved my spirit.&lt;/blockquote&gt;Of these three 'making processes' in this scripture, I have experienced two to a meaningful degree... and I am betting that if you guessed which one I had not experienced from first thought you would probably be wrong. It's knitting. i don't knit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have however experienced both clay processing and cheese making, and these being mentioned really excites me. i feel a little bad about once again being so excited about a making metaphor in the middle of a tragic story, but these sorts of metaphors are so often lost on our lives of modern convenience.&lt;br /&gt;For instance: cheese.&lt;br /&gt;After living in India for a short time we realised our need for cheese beyond paneer was serious. Ian and I are good midwestern/northern stock and we love cheese. I mean... we really love cheese. this was not helped by living  in Washington DC only a few blocks from Eastern Market with a fabulous cheese vendor, and then moving to London for a stay where cheeses from all over were easily available and for a price our meager student budget could easily handle. Moving to a place where cheese as we knew it was difficult to find was... well... difficult! So, when we came back to the states for what was supposed to be a short visit we decided to use our ample time to try our hands at the craft of cheese-making beginning with a simple mozzarella.  Ian chronicled our cheese-making escapades at our friend &lt;a href="http://www.matthewcgood.com/foodblog/2010/02/13/blessed-are-the-cheesemakers/"&gt;Matt's foodblog&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;It is a time consuming thing making cheese, but it extremely rewarding not to mention economical and fairly simple. From what I can tell, patience is the main ingredient.  The curdling happens like magic. After heating and adding ingredients and stirring the soon-to-be cheese curdles mysteriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.matthewcgood.com/foodblog/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/DSC_0084-300x201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 201px;" src="http://www.matthewcgood.com/foodblog/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/DSC_0084-300x201.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Even though it is really more of a chemical reaction that does most of the mork for me, i couldn't help but feel like I was accomplishing something with that cheese. It was so creamy and working it in our hands was fun and rewarding and left us with some of the tastiest mozzarella i have ever savored.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.matthewcgood.com/foodblog/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/DSC_0087-640x428.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 573px; height: 383px;" src="http://www.matthewcgood.com/foodblog/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/DSC_0087-640x428.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly have much less of an interest in store bought mozzarella now (which is actually minutely tragic).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it is interesting how Job calls himself God's cheese.  "Hey! Remember me?! I am your cheese! you made me! Why are letting terrible things happen to me?!"&lt;br /&gt;Job gets that we are lovingly made and doesn't get why a creator would let terrible things happen to a creation.&lt;br /&gt;I think that is a good question... without an answer.&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-7104538590425268137?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/7104538590425268137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=7104538590425268137' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/7104538590425268137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/7104538590425268137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2010/02/job-10.html' title='Job 10'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-417837475934711295</id><published>2010-02-23T08:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T09:45:14.406-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='LXVI'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sewing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bible'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Job'/><title type='text'>Job 7</title><content type='html'>I'm a little behind in the reading I realize. I woke up at 5am this morning thinking "crap! I didn't read any of my RSS feed today which means I didn't read the Bible reading. ugghhhhhh."&lt;br /&gt;If you know anything about me you may know that I am not a morning person in the least. That being said I promptly rolled over and went back to sleep for another 5 hours or so when i woke up and came downstairs to eat my cheerios and get caught up on all of my reading :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... here we are. I skipped a day in terms of my blogging, but I wanted to just get back on the horse here. So we meet up with Job in chapter 7 after he has had his friends tell him that God doesn't punish people who don't deserve it and that he should be more Godly in the previous chapters. Job has innocently said "but I didn't do anything wrong.... I don't understand!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://fromgardentocity.com/plan/2010-02-20"&gt;So here we are&lt;/a&gt; in Chapter 7 where he is telling us about how his life is hopeless.  Wow. One thing I find especially fascinating about Biblical texts are the crafting metaphors. I know this is solely because I have 'make stuff' fever, but it really helps me understand what is going on and I feel connected with generations of makers who this scripture was written for.&lt;br /&gt;In verse 6 Job says "My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle and come to their end without hope."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://witneyblanketstory.org.uk/multimed/images/WP00281a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 450px; height: 338px;" src="http://witneyblanketstory.org.uk/multimed/images/WP00281a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is super sad stuff. A &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shuttle_%28weaving%29"&gt;shuttle&lt;/a&gt; in terms of weaving is "&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;a tool designed to neatly and compactly store weft yarn while weaving. are thrown or passed back and forth through the shed, between the yarn threads of the warp in order to weave in the weft." Thank you Wikipedia. That little stick in the hollowed out area of the shuttle above is where the thread is stored.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway.. this got me thinking... I had seen a video of a weaver who brought his weaving outside as an experiment, so I wanted to see once again how fast a weaver's shuttle moves. I've never had a chance to weave on a big loom so my experience is mostly with clumsy home-made looms form cardboard, so my shuttle never moved very quickly, but i think you'd also be hard pressed to ever get anyone to agree that I was a weaver. SO... check out the action on those shuttles as &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="description"&gt;textiles artist Travis Meinolf &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; weaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mkBOzOH72f0&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mkBOzOH72f0&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speedy!&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to downplay Job's suffering. I personally feel like a slave of time regularly. How quickly life is speeding past and I am not stricken with the pains that Job was enduring. This metaphor really strikes me.&lt;br /&gt;The part that makes me perhaps the saddest is the second half of that verse where Job says that his days are "coming to their end without hope." I have been trying to think about what a shuttle coming the end of a row without any hope would look like. It could be that there is no more weft to be done and that the piece is finished, but that doesn't seem hopeless to me. If a piece is a finished then you have a great textile...which is far from hopeless. Instead I have imagined that somehow the yarn on the shuttle has been severed from the rest of the tapestry and is merely following the shuttle back and forth without producing any weft or product.&lt;br /&gt;As I said before, I am not a weaver, but I am a hobbyist sewer. I love my sewing machine and have a difficult time living without one. I just bought a new Janome Mini sewing machine that is about half the size of a normal machine and weighs in at about 5 pounds. It is itty bitty. I love the little thing although it can be tricky once in a while. I have been spoiled in the past with my big beautiful Brother machine that is nearly idiot proof. I have hardly ever had to mess with any settings as it deals with the thread tension on its' own and has all sorts of helpful features. It also allows me to be a little sloppy in following some of the rules I should be paying attention to. One of those things that I have been told over and over again is to manually pick up the stitch at the beginning of sewing a new line. This more or less means that I turn a dial with my hand in stead of letting electricity handle it for me. With my big machine i have found I can get away without doing this, but the little machine is teaching my the importance of doing this and has caused me much frustration.&lt;br /&gt;This is where my connection with Job comes it. it has happened to me a number of times now that I have begun sewing thinking that everything is fine and watching my needle go swiftly through the fabric pulling the tread behind it punching along... only to realize as i pick up the cloth i have just stitched to realize that in fact the bobbin thread never picked up so it is in fact not stitched at all but just sort of hole-punched by my needle which tucked the top thread in making it look sewn. Oh frustration!!!!&lt;br /&gt;This is the closest I can think to a hopeless shuttle. It doesn't pick up anything so it has gone through the day without producing and now it has nothing to show for it and the fabric falls apart.&lt;br /&gt;Poor Job! What a sucky way to pass through your days.&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-417837475934711295?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/417837475934711295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=417837475934711295' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/417837475934711295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/417837475934711295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2010/02/job-7.html' title='Job 7'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-4204602437562875142</id><published>2010-02-21T21:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T21:49:12.737-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='LXVI'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bible'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Job'/><title type='text'>Selections from Job 1-3</title><content type='html'>Here's the&lt;a href="http://fromgardentocity.com/plan/2010-02-18"&gt; reading&lt;/a&gt; I'm exploring from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Job 1:2 There were born to him seven sons and three daughters. 3 He possessed 7,000 sheep, 3,000 camels, 500 yoke of oxen, and 500 female donkeys, and very many servants, so that this man was the greatest of all the people of the east."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;I and the Village&lt;/span&gt; by &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Chagall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/S4ISZv16FjI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/jvBE4dCdks8/s1600-h/2754525411_ffcdc429b6_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 321px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/S4ISZv16FjI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/jvBE4dCdks8/s400/2754525411_ffcdc429b6_o.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440931533365581362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"1:10 Have you not put a hedge around him and his house and all that he has, on every side? You have blessed the work of his hands, and his possessions have increased in the land."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jacob Lawrence&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Street to Mbari&lt;/i&gt;, 1964&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/S4ITlsntXzI/AAAAAAAAAKY/qanyE3mQz10/s1600-h/a000548d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 289px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/S4ITlsntXzI/AAAAAAAAAKY/qanyE3mQz10/s400/a000548d.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440932838170779442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1:20 Then Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head and fell on the ground and worshiped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"&gt;Lithograph entitled "Job" by &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oldrich Kulhánek&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/S4IV-bR_0FI/AAAAAAAAAKg/dgXD2Zt1Jng/s1600-h/kulhanek40.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 292px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/S4IV-bR_0FI/AAAAAAAAAKg/dgXD2Zt1Jng/s400/kulhanek40.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440935462036295762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;2:7 So Satan went out from the presence of the Lord and struck Job with loathsome sores from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head. 8 And he took a piece of broken pottery with which to scrape himself while he sat in the ashes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Matthias Grünewald&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(c. 1470 – August 31, 1528)&lt;br /&gt;detail from The Isenheim Altarpiece&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/S4IY6oVa6ZI/AAAAAAAAAKo/2uy5jghHDlw/s1600-h/Isenheim+Altarpiece+-+The+Crucifixion+%28detail%29+5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 288px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/S4IY6oVa6ZI/AAAAAAAAAKo/2uy5jghHDlw/s400/Isenheim+Altarpiece+-+The+Crucifixion+%28detail%29+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440938695355722130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="verse-num" id="v18003025-3"&gt;3:25 &lt;/span&gt;For the thing that I fear comes upon me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="indent"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;and what I dread befalls me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="verse-num" id="v18003026-3"&gt;26 &lt;/span&gt;I am not at ease, nor am I quiet;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="indent"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I have no rest, but trouble comes.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Untitled, 1930 &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Marianne Brandt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/S4IamHBGTTI/AAAAAAAAAKw/7CZHB9ogU6M/s1600-h/231-059.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 308px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/S4IamHBGTTI/AAAAAAAAAKw/7CZHB9ogU6M/s400/231-059.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440940541837987122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-4204602437562875142?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/4204602437562875142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=4204602437562875142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/4204602437562875142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/4204602437562875142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2010/02/selections-from-job-1-3.html' title='Selections from Job 1-3'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/S4ISZv16FjI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/jvBE4dCdks8/s72-c/2754525411_ffcdc429b6_o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-3924532721814893569</id><published>2010-02-21T21:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T21:10:44.850-08:00</updated><title type='text'>LXVI</title><content type='html'>I've decided to take &lt;a href="http://fromgardentocity.com/"&gt;NCC's year-long Bible reading challenge&lt;/a&gt;, but I thought it could be interesting if I went searching for illustrations to the scripture I'll be covering. I may be making my own collages, but for now I am going to throw a couple things around with using bits and bobs from art history :) Some will be literal and some will be more free-association.&lt;br /&gt;Check out their &lt;a href="http://fromgardentocity.com/plan/view_plan/"&gt;reading schedule&lt;/a&gt; to try and keep up!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-3924532721814893569?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/3924532721814893569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=3924532721814893569' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/3924532721814893569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/3924532721814893569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2010/02/lxvi.html' title='LXVI'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-4043389555084634098</id><published>2009-10-08T02:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T02:55:18.560-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cell phone pics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='links'/><title type='text'>Shame, shame</title><content type='html'>It has been a very long break of not posting again. Once again I have zero truly good excuses... BUT we have gone through some large life changes as of late including a move and new career directions. YIKES!&lt;br /&gt;But luckily, the making and sketching is coming back into full swing, so I thought I would post a couple things from the ol' sketch book and visual files.&lt;br /&gt;First, we hung out at this great little coffee shop right on the water last week, and I seriously considered nicking one of the menus because of the charming Italian vintage graphics that they used. So instead the handy camera on my phone did some work-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/Ss2zZerj-bI/AAAAAAAAAIc/x7m0Jr5-wPM/s1600-h/0926091022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 204px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/Ss2zZerj-bI/AAAAAAAAAIc/x7m0Jr5-wPM/s400/0926091022.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390161579346229682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I've been really hit hard emotionally by some of the volunteer work I've just started doing and some of that found its' way onto my sketch book pages. I think this is going to be turned into some sort of three dimensional cut out... but here is the sketch of the vicious cycle I have been thinking about. Again.. sorry about the camera phone pics.. I'll try to get something better for next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/Ss2zY_D1T_I/AAAAAAAAAIU/EXEQv8yMDks/s1600-h/viciouscycle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/Ss2zY_D1T_I/AAAAAAAAAIU/EXEQv8yMDks/s400/viciouscycle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390161570858094578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I've been trying to be a busy little bee getting some prep work done for the weekday outings. i feel like I have been taking a step back in time to my Jr.High life with all the beads I have been sorting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/Ss2zZzlDetI/AAAAAAAAAIk/8TvFraDwfHw/s1600-h/0928091550.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/Ss2zZzlDetI/AAAAAAAAAIk/8TvFraDwfHw/s400/0928091550.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390161584956078802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Our new home has a lot of creativity due to necessity surrounding it, and also some just because. Check out the painting on the meter top. Now I can't help but see an elephant head when checking the meter even when one isn't actually painted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/Ss2zaSBxPtI/AAAAAAAAAIs/ZwTN-_gSt3Y/s1600-h/0929091042.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/Ss2zaSBxPtI/AAAAAAAAAIs/ZwTN-_gSt3Y/s400/0929091042.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390161593129582290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Also, one more thing before i forget... if you aren't already religiously watching TED videos... get on it.  If you are in need for a creative boost, be sure to watch &lt;a href="http://www.ted.com/talks/elizabeth_gilbert_on_genius.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; talk by author Elizabeth Gilbert. Fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-4043389555084634098?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/4043389555084634098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=4043389555084634098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/4043389555084634098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/4043389555084634098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2009/10/shame-shame.html' title='Shame, shame'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/Ss2zZerj-bI/AAAAAAAAAIc/x7m0Jr5-wPM/s72-c/0926091022.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-6712053185901388388</id><published>2009-06-27T12:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T09:08:17.393-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Asia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>Maximum Uh-Oh</title><content type='html'>I am currently reading &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Maximum City: Bombay Lost and Found&lt;/span&gt; by Suketu Mehta. I admit that I am barely into the book... maybe page 30... but this portrait of Mumbai is getting my goat. I think one of the reasons I am slow to move through this is all of the honestly that Mehta's narrative seems to put out there. From what i can tell, this book is a narrative portrait of Bombay (Mumbai). His writing is fantastic. I am really enjoying the style and voice... he really is a great read in that way.. but the subject is really difficult and he spares little (if any) detail to let youknow how this world works.&lt;br /&gt;I imagine everyone who would ever wander upon this blog knows by now that I'm headed off to South Asia for a year so that Ian can do legal fellowship there. And if you didn't know, well there you have it. That's what I'm up to after my near 6 months of stony silence while existing in the UK. Right now I writing from the porch of our current place of staying looking out on the American street, that for some reason looks rosier every second while reading this book.&lt;br /&gt;Here are some quotes that I have written down today. A lot of these things I already had in my knowledge base, but Mehta's narrative voice is really hitting these home for me at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;(pg 20) "... eight thousand human beings living on a few acres of land. It is the population of a small town."&lt;br /&gt;(pg 24) "India has the third largest pool of technical labor in the world, but a third of its 1 billion poeple can't read or write."&lt;br /&gt;"It is an imitation of a Western city, maybe Chicago in the twenties."&lt;br /&gt;(26) "... the ethic of Bombay is quick upward mobility and a scam is a short cut. ... A scam shows good business sense an a quick mind. Anyone can work hard and make money. What's to admire about that? But a well-executed scam? Now, there's a thing of beauty."&lt;br /&gt;(28) "Violence in Bombay can strike very close at any time. And the present dispute, as usual, is about space..."&lt;br /&gt;(29) "... air that has ten times the maximum permissible levels of lead in the atmosphere."&lt;br /&gt;"Breathing the air in Bmbay now is the equivalent of smoking two and a half packs of cigarettes a day."&lt;br /&gt;(30)"101 out of 100 are dishonest. Still my India is the best" (sign on the back of a truck)&lt;br /&gt;(31) "I miss cold weather and white people."&lt;br /&gt;"It was when I realized i had a new nationality: citizen of the country of longing."&lt;br /&gt;(35) "The first world lives snuck in the center of the third."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it. What I am supposed to make of all of this I am unsure. Some days I am really excited about going, and other days (specifically those i pick up honestly written narratives about Bombay) I am convinced we might be moving to some ring of hell on earth.&lt;br /&gt;Still, I am learning a lot. I have found that I am going to need an illustrated guide to Hinduism because i have no idea which deities are which in statues and poems.&lt;br /&gt;Yay for not knowing.&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-6712053185901388388?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/6712053185901388388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=6712053185901388388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/6712053185901388388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/6712053185901388388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2009/06/maximum-uh-oh.html' title='Maximum Uh-Oh'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-8837083123418918401</id><published>2009-06-22T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T12:44:35.897-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Figs, Google, and the Bible</title><content type='html'>I really like my computer. It is kind of a problem sometimes. I use it for near everything and I really like the internet. I am in many ways truly a pure-blood American twenty-something. I don't panic when i can't get online, but boy do i prefer being able to. There is so much information readily available! Today, once again, this came to the fore front in my every day life.&lt;br /&gt;I'm really trying to get better at reading scripture. I have really good times and then times that I just flat out suck. Lately my bible reading is not just something i should be doing, but a solution for moments of panic that are becoming less few as Ian and I navigate the next steps of "OMG WHAT NOW!?"&lt;br /&gt;So today I read in Mark where Jesus curses a fig tree.  Here it is in the New Living Translation... which is generally the one I read... mainly because that is the one i have and for not much other reason   anyway.. Mark 11:12-25... ready go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h5&gt;&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;h5&gt;Jesus Curses the Fig Tree&lt;/h5&gt; &lt;sup id="en-NLT-24622" class="versenum" value="12"&gt;12&lt;/sup&gt; The next morning as they were leaving Bethany, Jesus was hungry. &lt;sup id="en-NLT-24623" class="versenum" value="13"&gt;13&lt;/sup&gt; He noticed a fig tree in full leaf a little way off, so he went over to see if he could find any figs. But there were only leaves because it was too early in the season for fruit. &lt;sup id="en-NLT-24624" class="versenum" value="14"&gt;14&lt;/sup&gt; Then Jesus said to the tree, &lt;span class="woj" style=""&gt;“May no one ever eat your fruit again!”&lt;/span&gt; And the disciples heard him say it.&lt;h5&gt;Jesus Clears the Temple&lt;/h5&gt; &lt;sup id="en-NLT-24625" class="versenum" value="15"&gt;15&lt;/sup&gt; When they arrived back in Jerusalem, Jesus entered the Temple and began to drive out the people buying and selling animals for sacrifices. He knocked over the tables of the money changers and the chairs of those selling doves, &lt;sup id="en-NLT-24626" class="versenum" value="16"&gt;16&lt;/sup&gt; and he stopped everyone from using the Temple as a marketplace.&lt;sup class="footnote" value="" href="%22#fen-NLT-24626c%22" title="&amp;quot;See"&gt;c]"&gt;[&lt;a linkindex="32" href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Mark%2011%20;&amp;amp;version=51;#fen-NLT-24626c" title="See footnote c"&gt;c&lt;/a&gt;]&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;sup id="en-NLT-24627" class="versenum" value="17"&gt;17&lt;/sup&gt; He said to them, &lt;span class="woj" style=""&gt;“The Scriptures declare, ‘My Temple will be called a house of prayer for all nations,’ but you have turned it into a den of thieves.”&lt;sup class="footnote" value="" href="%22#fen-NLT-24627d%22" title="&amp;quot;See"&gt;d]"&gt;[&lt;a linkindex="33" href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Mark%2011%20;&amp;amp;version=51;#fen-NLT-24627d" title="See footnote d"&gt;d&lt;/a&gt;]&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;sup id="en-NLT-24628" class="versenum" value="18"&gt;18&lt;/sup&gt; When the leading priests and teachers of religious law heard what Jesus had done, they began planning how to kill him. But they were afraid of him because the people were so amazed at his teaching.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;sup id="en-NLT-24629" class="versenum" value="19"&gt;19&lt;/sup&gt; That evening Jesus and the disciples left&lt;sup class="footnote" value="" href="%22#fen-NLT-24629e%22" title="&amp;quot;See"&gt;e]"&gt;[&lt;a linkindex="34" href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Mark%2011%20;&amp;amp;version=51;#fen-NLT-24629e" title="See footnote e"&gt;e&lt;/a&gt;]&lt;/sup&gt; the city.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;sup id="en-NLT-24630" class="versenum" value="20"&gt;20&lt;/sup&gt; The next morning as they passed by the fig tree he had cursed, the disciples noticed it had withered from the roots up. &lt;sup id="en-NLT-24631" class="versenum" value="21"&gt;21&lt;/sup&gt; Peter remembered what Jesus had said to the tree on the previous day and exclaimed, “Look, Rabbi! The fig tree you cursed has withered and died!”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;sup id="en-NLT-24632" class="versenum" value="22"&gt;22&lt;/sup&gt; Then Jesus said to the disciples, &lt;span class="woj" style=""&gt;“Have faith in God.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;sup id="en-NLT-24633" class="versenum" value="23"&gt;23&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;span class="woj" style=""&gt;I tell you the truth, you can say to this mountain, ‘May you be lifted up and thrown into the sea,’ and it will happen. But you must really believe it will happen and have no doubt in your heart.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;sup id="en-NLT-24634" class="versenum" value="24"&gt;24&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;span class="woj" style=""&gt;I tell you, you can pray for anything, and if you believe that you’ve received it, it will be yours.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;sup id="en-NLT-24635" class="versenum" value="25"&gt;25&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;span class="woj" style=""&gt;But when you are praying, first forgive anyone you are holding a grudge against, so that your Father in heaven will forgive your sins, too.&lt;sup class="footnote" value="" href="%22#fen-NLT-24635f%22" title="&amp;quot;See"&gt;f]"&gt;[&lt;a linkindex="35" href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Mark%2011%20;&amp;amp;version=51;#fen-NLT-24635f" title="See footnote f"&gt;f&lt;/a&gt;]&lt;/sup&gt;”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="woj" style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="woj" style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Previously this has made zero sense to me and today I decided that google was going to help me fix the "wtf?" moment that happens evertime I hear Jesus curse this fig tree that didn't have fruit on it even though Mark SPECIFICALLY notes that figs are NOT in season. Really Jesus? What the heck? What is with you and randomly running around killing trees today?&lt;br /&gt;So.. google and I cuddle up to figure out this issue. It doesn't take much to have a couple answers sitting in front of me. Here's th short story to the fig deal: figs get a form a fruit before they get leaves. The don't neccesarilt get figs, but these little almond size things that are well known traveling snacks of peasants and wanderers. Not only that, but these things forecast the productivity of the fig tree. No goofly almond thingers... no figs. When Jesus hops up to this tree in the story in Mark, it is noted that the tree &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;only&lt;/span&gt; had leaves. No fruitish stuff.. no almond-y thingers. Leaves. More or less this tree is saying 'look at me all alive and flourishing! I am a leafy fig tree!'  If that is true, leafy fig tree that is showing the signs of productivity should have somethng on it... mainly the almond-joy snacks. So Jesus approaches, sees no fruit and curses the tree for boasting to be productive but not being.&lt;br /&gt;Now, generally I think I would have been a really bad disciple. I would have been over in the corner going "seriously? It's only a tree. No need to get worked up about this. This Jesus character gets spinning over the strangest things. What is his deal?" Or perhaps I would have been all "YEAH! Stupid tree! THIS SUCKS! I HATE THAT TREE!" Either way the trip back past this tree the next day when it is seriously withered away would have still been shocking. Good disciple or not, I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking about this froma purely experience direction and realized that a tree completely dying in 24 hours is totally nuts. We used to cut down trees in our yard and the braches would stay leafy and fairly alive looking for days. When i wandered orchards for my summer job there would be trees that had completely fallen apart and had half the tree completely detached and was leafy still for at least a couple days. A 24 hour turn around is pretty darn crazy.&lt;br /&gt;Now there are plently of other things I learned about figs that are of note. I looked throug the life cycle of the fig wasp.. which was reall interesting. I found out (if I understand this correctly) that a fig is more like a flower than a fruit. The traditional flower we think of blooms inside the what we think of as 'the fruit' and it takes that really specialized wasp to pollinate it. I thought that was wild. Even in the midst of all of those fun facts, this one thought of why Jesus used this as a visual learning device caught me. I really need to pay attention to where I get this stuff, but one article mentioned how this could have been an allusion to Isreal and how they were showing all of the signs of being spiritually productive and healthy, but really they were just showing off leaves. I'm nto sure how that conclusion was reached, but I am willing to make that jump.&lt;br /&gt;My main beek comes when the disciples and Jesus pass by it the next day and after the group noting at how crazy it is that the curse worked so fast, Jesus tells them that they can move mountains. Nice. Okay.. cool.&lt;br /&gt;But that part that really got me was how after "you can move mountains if you have faith.. pray and beleive you have received it.. great... okay OH! and when you pray be sure to forgive anyone you have grudges against first!" *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;I don't know that I have much to say on that other than moving mountains and forgiving grudges in this context strike me as things that are on the same level of difficulty.  If you are going to move the mountain, first you have got to get over your grudges. Ouch.&lt;br /&gt;Tough stuff for today.&lt;br /&gt;I was all game when all we were talking about was figs... but then i get my butt kicked.&lt;br /&gt;b&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-8837083123418918401?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/8837083123418918401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=8837083123418918401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/8837083123418918401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/8837083123418918401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2009/06/figs-google-and-bible.html' title='Figs, Google, and the Bible'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-8294172118638149565</id><published>2009-06-06T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-06T14:40:48.827-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Enjoying DC while we can</title><content type='html'>Ian and I are still waiting to hear back from prospective employers around the globe, but while doing that we are hanging out in DC with some friends and soaking in the atmosphere. Well, at least I am. Ian is still stuck studying, but I got him out and about for a quick walk to Eastern Market today. On our way back we bumped into a new friend and also had a few fabulous finds.&lt;br /&gt;For starters this guy-&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/Sirfu5iDdzI/AAAAAAAAAE4/1yNzLzIli4s/s1600-h/0606091507.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/Sirfu5iDdzI/AAAAAAAAAE4/1yNzLzIli4s/s200/0606091507.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344329904639145778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know a lot of people hate graffiti and I can understand why. A lot of it does not make your day better or happier.. but for some reason this one makes me happy :) a bird with shorts? Wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;Next glorious thing-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SirhgsAWh5I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/GuOt7XvUHMU/s1600-h/0606091527b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SirhgsAWh5I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/GuOt7XvUHMU/s200/0606091527b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344331859513214866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These were all over the park on our way back and I had to see what they were about! We followed what Ian told the mom of the young businessman was "effective advertising"...&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SirgaJgHIKI/AAAAAAAAAFI/7gyvHXHP7EY/s1600-h/0606091531.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SirgaJgHIKI/AAAAAAAAAFI/7gyvHXHP7EY/s200/0606091531.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344330647660339362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And enjoyed one of the wonderful things about being in a fairly busy neighborhood in the summer :) Lemonade and chocolate chips from a young entrepreneur. He even asked us what color cups we would like! His mother let us know that "color is really important at this age" and I replied "oh! I still think color is important!" We got a red cup and a blue cup :)&lt;br /&gt;Fantastic. I love lemonade stands. I need to remember to stock up on quarters for the summer!&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-8294172118638149565?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/8294172118638149565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=8294172118638149565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/8294172118638149565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/8294172118638149565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2009/06/enjoying-dc-while-we-can.html' title='Enjoying DC while we can'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/Sirfu5iDdzI/AAAAAAAAAE4/1yNzLzIli4s/s72-c/0606091507.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-1402000809589703914</id><published>2009-05-04T16:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T17:12:02.960-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In honor of heading back soon</title><content type='html'>So- I have tried to write here while being in London but have had a really tough time of it (obvious from the complete lack of entries since the first week of being here). So here it is May and I have very little blog to show for myself... I have a number of drafts that will most likely never be posted... and honestly you probably wouldn't want to read them anyway. It rains a lot here and that always makes me a little Eeyore about things :( &lt;br /&gt;BUT in honor of getting my brain in gear to make the continent leap once again I thought i would put out some very self serving thoughts (in the next 5 minutes because it is bed time).&lt;br /&gt;Today I was thinking about the things that I would like to be today. you know how you are forced to think about what you want to be as a kid and it can wildly range from day to day? Welllll... I am that way still. Some days I have even considered that I would like to be an inanimate object like a statue or a egg cup or something nice like that.&lt;br /&gt;Well, today here are things I wanted to be... much to the help of a trip to Borders while being kicked out of our flat while Ian did a phone interview. (ps-it went well we think.)&lt;br /&gt;Today I wanted to be a gardener or farmer and grow berries. I wanted to be a boater or a sailor.. more someone who takes people on boats like the tour guide we had in Little Venice here in London. I wanted to be a basket weaver, because that seems mesmerizing and an age old craft... and along the same lines i wanted to be a potter. Lastly i wanted to be a fiber artist thanks to a beautiful book I found on the art of embroidery.&lt;br /&gt;When I think about the reality of myself doing any of these I feel that the ones I would be most apt to adapt are probably weaving and embroidering. My dreams of pottery have been dashed time and time again sadly... I don't imagine i will take up the boating life any time soon although it sounds nice... I'm just not sure I would know what to do with it... and I don't seem to have the natural knack for gardening and I hate having soil under my nails.&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it. My triumphant return to blogging by telling you want I wanted to be today.&lt;br /&gt;Jut for the sake of knowing... when asked as a child what i wanted to be when i grew up and being asked to draw it in my elementary school journal I wanted to be either an artist or an archeologist. Not sure what that says about me, but there you have it :)&lt;br /&gt;What did you want to be?&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-1402000809589703914?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/1402000809589703914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=1402000809589703914' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/1402000809589703914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/1402000809589703914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2009/05/in-honor-of-heading-back-soon.html' title='In honor of heading back soon'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-6840051925383206393</id><published>2009-01-11T16:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T13:46:13.547-08:00</updated><title type='text'>First Impressions</title><content type='html'>They say first impressions are important. With that in mind I have put off posting for a few days for the sake of giving a positive first impression of our stay in London. :)&lt;br /&gt;We got here at 7am local time Wednesday morning and Ian immediately left for school and I began my 3-day stint of full-time Nanny to a friend's child who was a ball full of energy. I felt bad for the poor kid because I was so completely bushed after being awake for 24 hours that first day, i was probably no fun at all! Still... cameras are a big hit.. especially when you can take pictures of the other person taking a picture of you... she though this was just grand!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3516/3189793304_f58aebf9cf.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 335px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3516/3189793304_f58aebf9cf.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;If I had not yet won favor, I think that my ability to draw pictures that looked like her Disney princess dolls may have done the trick. Ah... my college education at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3308/3188953481_1f5c33829f.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 394px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3308/3188953481_1f5c33829f.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;SO... If I had in fact blogged before today that is pretty much all you would have seen. Myself and my new preschool friend and Ariel in her post-mermaid dress. THAT is what London is all about. NOOoooooo. Moving on...&lt;br /&gt;Trafalgar Square! Finally today Ian and I got out for a touch of sight seeing. After morning service at Holy Trinity Brompton (which we enjoyed) we headed out to the center of vacation snapshots....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3406/3188953181_ece4734ecd.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 335px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3406/3188953181_ece4734ecd.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This so far has to be my favorite picture... maybe ever. I love this guy and this picture makes me so happy! He's amazing and I am thrilled we get to finally globe-trot more together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3370/3188952745_8f960dae59.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 335px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3370/3188952745_8f960dae59.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And me! Those cars whirring past in the background were actually going quite quickly... maybe. That is one thing I am unsure of here.. are the cars really going faster? Or am I just ridiculously close to the road at all times?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3388/3188952311_94303494cb.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 352px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3388/3188952311_94303494cb.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Big Ben! Since we are mere mortals we saw Ben (which happens to only refer to the bell and not the tower.. did you know that?) from behind a rather tall gate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3470/3188951869_057211da7c.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 339px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3470/3188951869_057211da7c.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We have been reading up on London, and we figured it was no time to stop. Ian was reading me from our tour book as we went along. He read, I took pictures. Pretty keen deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3531/3188951587_481ba245c5.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 335px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3531/3188951587_481ba245c5.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Just one more for fun... with the London Eye in the background!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3341/3188950649_aa2710b41f.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 323px; height: 495px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3341/3188950649_aa2710b41f.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We took a quick turn around the grounds of Westminster Abbey...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3315/3189793574_3345d5ba2b.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 259px; height: 387px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3315/3189793574_3345d5ba2b.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And then back past Parliament on our way back to the tube to go back home to our teeny flat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3426/3188949751_693ecd34ab.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 416px; height: 443px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3426/3188949751_693ecd34ab.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hooray! The rumors are true! We really are in London!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3432/3188950227_4c5e3db252.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 259px; height: 387px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3432/3188950227_4c5e3db252.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I plan to revisit all of these sights again, but it was good to finally get to take a little look around at some of the iconic sights of this city. If it crosses our mind please pray for our health. We are still recovering from some jet-lag and just generally no sleeping as well on our 'dorm bed'.&lt;br /&gt;Cheers!&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-6840051925383206393?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/6840051925383206393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=6840051925383206393' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/6840051925383206393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/6840051925383206393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2009/01/first-impressions.html' title='First Impressions'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-7733103945614999690</id><published>2008-12-27T22:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T23:10:34.718-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the "Been there, done that" list</title><content type='html'>I am currently in the process of setting life goals. When i say currently, I mean I interrupted my brainstorming to jot this down. I have noticed while reading about setting goals and living a full life intentionally that I have done a whole lot of really cool stuff so far and I haven't really celebrated that as much as I should. This isn't meant as a brag post, but i think for the sake of getting more wheels turning... I need to  present a list of the many things that I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; done that if they were not otherwise accomplished would be on my life goal 'to do' list... I have been trying to keep in my brain that I am 24 years old, and I should be proud of things I have done as well as looking forward to things I want to do someday. so here are some...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Learned to swim&lt;br /&gt;Gone on a safari&lt;br /&gt;Gone hiking in the Andes mountains&lt;br /&gt;Bathed in a river in South America&lt;br /&gt;Hiked the Appalachian Trail for 10 days&lt;br /&gt;Gone on some of the top 10 roller coasters in the world&lt;br /&gt;Seen a concert and ballet in the Sydney opera house&lt;br /&gt;Become good friends with my parents&lt;br /&gt;Had braces&lt;br /&gt;Played a didgeridoo in the Australian outback&lt;br /&gt;Visited Yellowstone&lt;br /&gt;Have nieces&lt;br /&gt;visited the Grand Canyon&lt;br /&gt;Taught English in Africa&lt;br /&gt;Taught swimming lessons&lt;br /&gt;Poured bronze&lt;br /&gt;Swam in an Olympic pool&lt;br /&gt;Chased kangaroos&lt;br /&gt;Gone deer hunting&lt;br /&gt;gone canoeing&lt;br /&gt;gone kayaking&lt;br /&gt;been the president of something&lt;br /&gt;Got married to an amazing man&lt;br /&gt;Lived in a major international city (Washington DC)&lt;br /&gt;Seen a Broadway show on Broadway&lt;br /&gt;been across the Golden Gate bridge&lt;br /&gt;Graduated from undergrad with honors&lt;br /&gt;Been in a juried art show&lt;br /&gt;been payed for singing&lt;br /&gt;gone dancing in an old swing-era ballroom with a live band&lt;br /&gt;ate bugs&lt;br /&gt;drank absinthe&lt;br /&gt;painted a series of cohesive paintings&lt;br /&gt;taken a photography class&lt;br /&gt;become part of a premiere singing group&lt;br /&gt;saw the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade in person&lt;br /&gt;ate sushi as part of my weekly meals&lt;br /&gt;Scored a soccer goal from half field during a game&lt;br /&gt;volunteered with inner city kids&lt;br /&gt;helped edit a college newspaper&lt;br /&gt;gone to a Renaissance Fair&lt;br /&gt;Eaten a  whole turkey leg without silverware&lt;br /&gt;built a piece of usable furniture&lt;br /&gt;Held a salaried job for over 2 years&lt;br /&gt;slept in a mud hut&lt;br /&gt;sewed something that i wore more than once&lt;br /&gt;played an instrument&lt;br /&gt;sang with a live band&lt;br /&gt;lived in a crappy apartment&lt;br /&gt;made bread from scratch&lt;br /&gt;learned to swing dance&lt;br /&gt;learned to tap dance&lt;br /&gt;hiked in the Blue Mountains&lt;br /&gt;visited Yosemite&lt;br /&gt;visited Donner pass&lt;br /&gt;Visited Gettysburg&lt;br /&gt;Gone to a world-renown night club&lt;br /&gt;Got a US Capitol tour from a senator&lt;br /&gt;Visited every monument on the National Mall in Washington&lt;br /&gt;Sang Handel's Messiah&lt;br /&gt;ate chicken and rice in Bolivia&lt;br /&gt;was in a spelling bee&lt;br /&gt;went on multiple mission trips&lt;br /&gt;done street theater&lt;br /&gt;had a lead in a musical&lt;br /&gt;become great friends with my sisters&lt;br /&gt;road tripped across the US&lt;br /&gt;showed an animal in a county fair&lt;br /&gt;seen the Statue of Liberty&lt;br /&gt;got college scholarships for both music and academics&lt;br /&gt;rode a horse&lt;br /&gt;gone skiing&lt;br /&gt;swam in three oceans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that is enough for tonight. It is just good to know I have actually accomplished some things an had some cool experiences. Some times setting goals makes me feel a little like a failure because I have so much yet to accomplish... but it is good to remember all of the things I have already accomplished.&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-7733103945614999690?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/7733103945614999690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=7733103945614999690' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/7733103945614999690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/7733103945614999690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/12/been-there-done-that-list.html' title='the &quot;Been there, done that&quot; list'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-2185852887611545039</id><published>2008-12-18T21:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T15:35:54.511-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I usually like happy things...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v193/22/93/152400386/n152400386_30265425_9050.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v193/22/93/152400386/n152400386_30265425_9050.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;First off- I want to apologize for this half-done post. I wanted to get it out of my draft box though before we made our flight over the pond. Not as many links as I would like... but in reality how many people really follow this blog anyhow? Anyway...&lt;br /&gt;I am more of a happy-things type of person. It's funny, because I wouldn't say I am a particularly &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;positive person.&lt;/span&gt; I am married to a ridiculously positive person, but I am probably more melancholy than many. Me, myself, and I are quite an odd grouping sometimes. I like bright colors and surround myself with &lt;a href="http://www.kiitosmarimekko.com/ja710tu.html"&gt;fun patterns&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://video.google.com/videosearch?q=amelie&amp;amp;ie=utf-8&amp;amp;oe=utf-8&amp;amp;rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&amp;amp;client=firefox-a&amp;amp;um=1&amp;amp;sa=X&amp;amp;oi=video_result_group&amp;amp;resnum=4&amp;amp;ct=title#q=youang%20%40%20heart&amp;amp;emb=0"&gt;quirky movies&lt;/a&gt;, and melodic &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C9r9sQ6PHOM"&gt;music&lt;/a&gt; with lively horn sections and deliberate vocal harmonies... and generally really funny and well humored people. I just simply like happy things and gravitate toward them. Soooo... when I get to really foreboding parts of scripture, like I did today in&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=matthew%2024;&amp;amp;version=51;"&gt; Matthew 24&lt;/a&gt;, i actually get really nervous. I'm all good when Jesus is saying "love one another.... you are blessed.... yielded a hundred fold..." and so on. I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;like&lt;/span&gt; happy-go-lucky-he-tells-nice-stories-about-plants-and-sparrows-Jesus, so when I am following him through the gospels and he starts saying things about all of these terrible things that will happen before the "Son of Man" comes back in glory, I get all nervous and like a little kid in a scary movie i start to pull my blanket over my head and peek very cautiously through the crochet florets in the afghan... don't pretend you didn't do that. "Good news?" I think "the HECK good news! More like foreboding-and-freak-out-worthy news! Jesus just said earthquakes and wars were a 'you ain't seen nothin yet' sort of thing... eek!" I have a terrible tenancy to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;kind of.. you know..&lt;/span&gt; read &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;as fast as I possibly can&lt;/span&gt; through these things and then move on including all of the "I will be betrayed and then they will kill me" parts. Move through it quick.. like a band-aid. Because &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;obviously&lt;/span&gt; speed-reading through the 'icky' parts makes everything ok. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have an art habit... this includes making and viewing art. I love art museums.. I fell in love in Jr. High in Dayton, OH in front of some of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Campbells_Soup_Cans_MOMA_reduced_80%25.jpg"&gt;Andy Warhol's soup cans&lt;/a&gt; and haven't really ever looked back. I can happily spend all day in a good museum. In college as an exchange student in Sydney, Australia I would spend every Wednesday from about noon to 9pm chilling in the Art Gallery of New South Wales visiting some of my old buddies like &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pablo_Picasso"&gt;Picasso&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mark_Rothko"&gt;Rothko&lt;/a&gt; and then making new friends like &lt;a href="http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://collection.artgallery.nsw.gov.au/collection/images/web/3/395_1993_A_C%7ES.jpg&amp;amp;imgrefurl=http://collection.artgallery.nsw.gov.au/collection/results.do%3Fview%3Dhighlight%26dept%3Dcontemporary%252Faboriginal%26pos%3D2%26highlight%3D3%26coll%3Dcontemporary&amp;amp;usg=__Hz6WWG4XAG17UOHwEBhoG_IH3J4=&amp;amp;h=240&amp;amp;w=253&amp;amp;sz=13&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;start=75&amp;amp;um=1&amp;amp;tbnid=V0IFtDuN6ziDQM:&amp;amp;tbnh=105&amp;amp;tbnw=111&amp;amp;prev=/images%3Fq%3Dlin%2Bonus%2Bbats%26start%3D63%26ndsp%3D21%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-US:official%26sa%3DN"&gt;Lin Onus&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.asianart.com.au/exhibitions/past/dadang"&gt;Dadang Christanto&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://collection.artgallery.nsw.gov.au/collection/results.do;jsessionid=F235D7B788466278E3F7DB5183EF9E5F?view=detail&amp;amp;dept=contemporary%2Fwestern&amp;amp;db=object&amp;amp;browse=contemporary%2Fwestern%2Fbrowse&amp;amp;id=18349"&gt;Lawrence Weiner&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.artgallery.nsw.gov.au/__data/page/4475/exterior_bw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 546px; height: 242px;" src="http://www.artgallery.nsw.gov.au/__data/page/4475/exterior_bw.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Viewing art is something I really enjoying taking time at the vast majority of the time. I studied pretty hard in my Art History classes and memorized slides and dates (most of which i struggle to remember now... but... oh well..) and took time with my ten-pounds worth of text book studying the pages and looking at the images of the past and the present. It was some time in one of my many readings in my beloved &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Gardners-Through-ArtStudy-Student-InfoTrac/dp/0155050907"&gt;Gardner's Art Through the Ages&lt;/a&gt; that I happened upon a rather gory altar piece that smacked me in face.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Crucifixion&lt;/span&gt; from the Isenheim Altarpiece is pretty serious and very 'not happy'.  &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Matthias_Gr%C3%BCnewald"&gt;Grunewald&lt;/a&gt; painted this particular piece for the chapel of a monastery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/4/4f/Mathis_Gothart_Gr%C3%BCnewald_022.jpg/675px-Mathis_Gothart_Gr%C3%BCnewald_022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 675px; height: 599px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/4/4f/Mathis_Gothart_Gr%C3%BCnewald_022.jpg/675px-Mathis_Gothart_Gr%C3%BCnewald_022.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing that got me with this piece was how really gruesome it is. Check out Christ's writhing fingers bending in unnatural ways... his gangrenous skin with sores.. not to mention his mother Mary white as a ghost, fainting at the sight of her son in such a state. This is NOT a pretty picture. Not happy... but I found it fascinating. I'm not the only one... it become quite an icon later in the 19th century when expressionism really took off in all of its' angsty-ness (not a word.. i know!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit that I have a hard time making it through rough parts of the gospels and the crucifixion is no exception. It scares me and my heart sinks into my stomach... but I don't think I completely understood how &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;good&lt;/span&gt; that is until my exploration into religious art which finally gave me the opportunity to slow down and give these frightening stories a second glance.. with a little help from my art history book of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of people get real pissy about the Catholic church and the dark ages and Renaissance and get all huffy about how they did absolutely nothing to help people come to know Christ. Well... I would have to beg to differ. For one thing- the Catholic church commissioned some serious art with the ability to transcend time and class to communicate the story and heart of the gospel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grunewald made me a believer in this area. His &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Crucifixion&lt;/span&gt; was one of the first times i really 'got' why this whole death of Jesus was a big thing. I mean... my mind had sort of gotten it before. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://far-horizons.biz/catalog/images/34058.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 203px; height: 203px;" src="http://far-horizons.biz/catalog/images/34058.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'd heard plenty of talks about the horrors of torture in Christ's day and plenty of "come to Jesus because he died for you" altar calls, but on the flip side I had also seen a lot of Jesus holding baby sheep paintings, and a ridiculous amount of mass produced crucifixes that feature a remarkably peaceful and very squeaky clean looking Jesus. These two things weren't really connecting for me. That glow in the dark Jesus hanging on my vacation Bible school bookmark didn't really look like he was working too hard. He was just chillin' there on the glow in the dark cross ready to take my sins and let me into glow in the dark heaven... what?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I mentioned, this piece was made for the chapel of a monastery. More specifically a monastery known for hospital work geared toward people with skin diseases. If you can imagine yourself as a 16th century peasant for a second and bare with me... take another look at that painting and what is happening. You are a peasant who is at this monastery because you have gotten leprosy or some sort of skin disorder that has made you a serious outcast. The people around you are becoming disfigured to the point that your stomach churns. You don't understand why God would ever let this happen and you are pissed off and are pretty sure that God hates you.. BUT you've decided to take a chance and pray in the chapel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get down on your knees at the altar with a lack of words, and eventually look up through your folded hands and there is the Lord with disfigured flesh, skin that is diseased surrounded to his left by his mother and his followers. Peter (red cape) catching Mary who just can't handle it and Mary Magdalene freaking out still toting her alabaster jar and weeping. On the right John the Baptist (yes I know.. he wasn't at the crucifixion and they knew it too..but they didn't have a dream sequence option in oil painting so this is what you get), like an apparition, points symbolically reminding us that the prophets have foretold that this would happen.. that God would take our place, our diseases and suffer worse than anything we would suffer so that we would know peace and be with God forever. You find yourself, your situation as one of these characters and a realization that you are not alone and God 'gets it' can happen. This painting is tipping the 16th century viewer off all over to place to recall that story of Christ in a new way that is relevant to their place and situation. It is crazy. To me this is awesome because God's word is communicated visually so specifically to meet people where they are and bring them in. These monks and clergy are commissioning works that are using the media of the day to transcend barriers to communicate the sacrifice and understand of God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a visual learner in the 21st century art like this is an amazing opportunity for my faith and learning to collide. Saints of the past take my hand and walk me through the anguish and the pain and the majesty of the story of scripture. Nativity paintings of this era from churches show Jesus over and over again on Mary's knee wrapped as a child in a blue robe with a red sash... blue for heaven and red for flesh and earth. Divine wrapped in flesh. Visual cues that the people of their time, while illiterate to the written word, gain understanding through a visual language of colors and symbols and emotions. Jesus being cast to death with my leprosy to die for my sins. MY disease. MY situation. MY Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow I like art.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So.. the bar should be set really high. How am I communicating for my culture the story of Christ? How are the creations of my heart and mind reaching people where they are? Am i communicating with excellence and innovation? Have I informed myself culturally? Have I built in a literacy for multiple intelligences in how I communicate?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lord! Help me take a cue from the history of your story being illustrated! Let me approach your story with intelligence, excellence, intentionality, creativity, compassion and innovation. I don't want to hand a hurting person a plastic, happy gospel. I want to hand them something dynamic that connects the dots. I want to strive for a museum worthy witness.&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-2185852887611545039?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/2185852887611545039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=2185852887611545039' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/2185852887611545039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/2185852887611545039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-usually-like-happy-things.html' title='I usually like happy things...'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-6132953281524941964</id><published>2008-12-14T19:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T22:34:27.999-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Imaginari</title><content type='html'>I had an imaginary friend. I am guessing that for those of you who know me personally, this is not &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.celfcentered.com/images/tn_CATS.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://www.celfcentered.com/images/tn_CATS.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;much of a surprise but i was thinking about the illusive and mischievous "Scat Cat" and thought I should share. I think Scat came to be part of my life on a trip to California when I was 3 (i think...). I was still an only child at the time, and my mother was pregnant with my sister Rachel and we were taking a road trip across the USA with my grandparents on my father's side in their motor home when this particular purple cat made his way into my life. As I recall we stopped in the Dakotas at the &lt;a href="http://www.cornpalace.org/"&gt;Corn Palace&lt;/a&gt; and got some serious sesame street gear and possibly a Gumby and Pokey figurine set and this is the first time I recall making sure that Scat Cat had a place to sit in the motorhome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.alice-in-wonderland.net/alicepic/disney-movie/cheshire-cat-4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 124px; height: 99px;" src="http://www.alice-in-wonderland.net/alicepic/disney-movie/cheshire-cat-4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;None of the adults I was with were very good at playing pretend... so of course... I pretended that there was a large purple cat wearing a trendy hat (think a mix between Disney's Cheshire cat and the cat that plays the trumpet in Disney's Aristocats.. also named Scat Cat) that was excellent at playing pretend. Makes sense to me. I pretended to have someone to play pretend with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;OK... I promise this is coming from somewhere. It is a little disjointed.. but oh well.&lt;br /&gt;I was poking around my usual online haunts and came upon &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/2113477"&gt;this little video&lt;/a&gt; that was posted on &lt;a href="http://aprintaday.blogspot.com/"&gt;A Print A Day&lt;/a&gt; (which if you haven't checked out is fun... what a talented gal). I just noticed that they are raising money for a library in Mongolia via this little gal's stories. This little girl just killed me with her stories. What imaginations children have! My favorite part of ths whole story is the hippo's allergies. OMG. Adorable. Why have I never thought about that? The most wonderful connections happen in the minds of kids and I would pay good money to have that back. Maybe i need to sit down and have a cuppa with Scat Cat and catch up on old times.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Here's a little definition from Webster's online to get the gears moving on this:&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;imagination&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Main Entry:&lt;span class="variant"&gt; imag·i·na·tion&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div class="word_definition"&gt;&lt;div style="cursor: url(http://www.merriam-webster.com/wordclick.cur), help;" id="wordclickDiv" class="wordclick" onmousemove="this.style.cursor = wordclick &amp;amp;&amp;amp; wordclick.isEnabled() ? 'url(http://www.merriam-webster.com/wordclick.cur), help' : 'default';"&gt;&lt;div class="entry misc"&gt;&lt;dl&gt;&lt;dt class="pron"&gt;Pronunciation:&lt;span class="pronchars"&gt; \i-&lt;span class="unicode"&gt;ˌ&lt;/span&gt;ma-jə-&lt;span class="unicode"&gt;ˈ&lt;/span&gt;nā-shən\&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt class="pron"&gt;Function:&lt;em&gt; noun&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt class="pron"&gt;Etymology: Middle English, from Anglo-French, from Latin &lt;em&gt;imagination-, imaginatio,&lt;/em&gt; from &lt;em&gt;imaginari&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt class="date"&gt;Date: 14th century&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;/dl&gt;   &lt;div class="defs"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_label start"&gt;1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="sense_content"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;:&lt;/strong&gt; the act or power of forming a mental image of something not present to the senses or never before wholly perceived in reality&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_label start"&gt;2 a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="sense_content"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;:&lt;/strong&gt; creative ability&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="sense_label"&gt;b&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="sense_content"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;:&lt;/strong&gt; ability to confront and deal with a problem &lt;strong&gt;:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" linkindex="109" href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/resourcefulness" class="lookup"&gt;resourcefulness&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" class="vi"&gt;&lt;use your=""&gt;&lt;em&gt;imagination&lt;/em&gt; and get us out of here&gt;&lt;/use&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" class="sense_label"&gt;c&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="sense_content"&gt;&lt;strong style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; the thinking or active mind &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" set="yes" linkindex="110" href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/interest" class="lookup"&gt;interest&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="vi"&gt;&lt;stories that="" fired="" the=""&gt;&lt;em&gt;imagination&lt;/em&gt;&gt;&lt;/stories&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_label start"&gt;3 a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="sense_content"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;:&lt;/strong&gt; a creation of the mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="sense_content"&gt;       ; &lt;em&gt;especially&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="sense_content"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;:&lt;/strong&gt; an idealized or poetic creation&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="sense_label"&gt;b&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="sense_content"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;:&lt;/strong&gt; fanciful or empty assumption&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it just me or the root word "imaginari" one of the greatest sounding things you have heard this week? It sounds like some sort of ancient Chinese type of warrior that uses telekinesis. I think that is who I want to be when I grow up. The Imaginari.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess this leaves a lot of questions for me. What does one do in order to become the most creative an imaginative that they possibly can become? How can one learn to think outside of the box? How can you make the connections that are absurd and beautiful? How can one stimulate the imagination and live in a life that is guided by a God-given creativity? I don't know... but let me tell you my heart is racing just thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a class in college called "Juxtaposynthesis". Oddly enough this made-up word looks like the most impressive class I took in all of  college... well Physics looks decently good as well... but i still think the class taught by &lt;a href="http://www.greenville.edu/index.php?option=com_content&amp;amp;task=view&amp;amp;id=1083&amp;amp;Itemid=0"&gt;Prof. Steve Heilmer&lt;/a&gt; takes the cake. We had a bit of a rough ending to the course, but besides some unfortunate mishaps of burglary in the art building that winter, this class ranks as one of the more life-changing experiences that took place in my college years... and I am sad to say that for how often i think about it I have yet to go back and bother Steve for a syllabus to look through once again. Juxtaposynthesis was all about making those unlikely connection&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.heyokamagazine.com/rauschenbergGoat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 316px; height: 206px;" src="http://www.heyokamagazine.com/rauschenbergGoat.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_content"&gt;s by placing two things side by side or, even better, integrating them in a way that created a new experience and a new meaning.. think &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Rauschenberg"&gt;Rauschenberg&lt;/a&gt; sort of (peices at left).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_content"&gt; This blew my mind at the time, and still kind of does. We were asked to do some 'crazy' and possibly borderline sacrilegious (at times) exercises that pushed my boundaries on how to think of the world. We were told to make crosses. Some ended up being made out of dismembered baby doll parts, some antique printing press letters, some out of Triscut snack cracker boxes. Each time something new was born. I made my first piece of clothing out of packing material that winter... a jacket out of bubble wrap. shoes of lost puzzle pieces. I folded paper cranes out of pictures of aircraft carriers. I was introduced to Annie Dillard's literature which changed my life again. I was transformed by seeing things differently... my trying to make the unlikely connections that lead to the redemption of objects or images that would otherwise go unnoticed. This process stole my heart... especially when paired with the idea of redemption. This has just recently been rediscovered in my vault of memories this Christmas season when listening to the story of God.&lt;br /&gt;Holy creativity... Holy juxtaposition.&lt;br /&gt;I have been struck by the creativity of the Master Creator for some time. Having had a number of experiences in "the church" and with "the church" that make me ill, I have never been able to turn my back on the God of the Bible in part because of a story of the Ultimate Creative. I mean, look at giraffes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://cache.eb.com/eb/image?id=62563&amp;amp;rendTypeId=4"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 284px; height: 194px;" src="http://cache.eb.com/eb/image?id=62563&amp;amp;rendTypeId=4" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_content"&gt;HILARIOUS. What other things leave us in awe, wonder, or just rolling in stitches because of the absu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_content"&gt;rdity of it all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_content"&gt;Flounders make me laugh. Brilliant.. they have both eye on top of their bodies... they are like pancakes of fish.. squished by nature's steamroller to the bottom of the ocean floor. Or sloths. Sloths are funny too. Mountains are brilliant and beautiful but deadly.. as are small things like poisonous tree frogs. Let us not forget &lt;a href="http://www.its.caltech.edu/%7Eatomic/snowcrystals/photos/photos.htm"&gt;snowflakes&lt;/a&gt; and the CRAZY reality that no two are alike!!! IN-FREAKING-SANE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/staticfiles/NGS/Shared/StaticFiles/Photography/Images/Content/sectored-snowflake-1047255-ga.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 166px;" src="http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/staticfiles/NGS/Shared/StaticFiles/Photography/Images/Content/sectored-snowflake-1047255-ga.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_content"&gt; Something we can barely see that is so intricate that we will go along without noticing it before it melts to oblivion. Don't get me started on marsupials. But it isn't just natural wonders that inform my affection and awe for this Ultimate Creative. But the stories of scripture.  &lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Judges%204%20;&amp;amp;version=51;"&gt;Women leading people groups&lt;/a&gt;... &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rahab"&gt;prostitutes all over the place&lt;/a&gt; ...  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_content"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.getty.edu/art/gettyguide/artObjectDetails?artobj=136151&amp;amp;handle=li"&gt;shepherds turned to kings&lt;/a&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_content"&gt;that's like the trash man becoming the next president of the US. It's CRAZY and WONDERFUL.&lt;br /&gt;But most of all, in this season is the ultimate &lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke%202:1-20;&amp;amp;version=51;"&gt;story&lt;/a&gt; of juxtaposition... that of a baby born among livestock that came to save all man-kind. I know we have heard it over and over again and it loses its' crazy-factor... but i was stepping back and putting it through my brain again this morning. The people say "we want a Messiah who will rule in power" and God says "yo- no prob. Here is myself as my son born to an unwed teenager near some cows and sheep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.merry-christmas.com/images/nativity.images/giotto.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 273px; height: 278px;" src="http://www.merry-christmas.com/images/nativity.images/giotto.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_content"&gt; and raised as a carpenter. There you go." I mean really... God? What the heck? Can you push the un&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_content"&gt;likely-connection factor up another notch? "Sure" says God... "Let me throw in a &lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew%203:1-12%20;&amp;amp;version=51;"&gt;man that lives in the woods who eats bugs&lt;/a&gt; to tell you He is coming." Oh sure. It is flat out weird.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_content"&gt;It's hard to explain how strange that is to me right now. We all love a surprise ending... we love twists in movies and unlikely turns in the plot but somehow we got bored with the Christmas story. Maybe that is another reason why we must be 'born again'. I know this is a stretch... but somehow this implies to me that we start over.. and that makes me want to start over including starting over on how i believe things... how connections are made and say "of course hippos have allergies to magic... of course green eggs and ham sounds delicious... of course a baby in a feed trough is God incarnate." (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Giotto. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The nativity and Adoration of the Shepherds.&lt;/span&gt; 1304-1306. Fresco)&lt;p class="MsoPlainText" align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Why? Why is this lost on me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_break"&gt;&lt;span class="sense_content"&gt;Lord! Heal my damaged imagination. Heal me of my human logic.  Renew the mind of a child and let me live in the absurd and glorious promises of unlikely connections made by you, my Ultimate Creative. Please. I want to live in full color.&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;          &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-6132953281524941964?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/6132953281524941964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=6132953281524941964' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/6132953281524941964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/6132953281524941964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/12/imaginari.html' title='Imaginari'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-2327537563800585989</id><published>2008-12-08T09:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T10:02:32.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas drool</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.tomsshoes.com/ProductImages/prod_245.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 250px;" src="http://www.tomsshoes.com/ProductImages/prod_245.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been drooling a little bit over these &lt;a href="http://www.tomsshoes.com/ProductDetails.aspx?CategoryID=7&amp;amp;productID=245"&gt;TOMS Shoes wrap boots&lt;/a&gt;. Man! I have been looking for a good versatile boot for a while and I think this might just be it... I'm hoping to find a way out to a store that carries them to give them a try-on. Really! Great idea!!&lt;br /&gt;In case anyone wanted to know I wear a 7.5 in womens although i should probably check my other pair of Toms to see what they are :)&lt;br /&gt;If these really are as versatile as they are being advertised as... I am in! Not to mention that the inspiration for their design came from the leg wraps for Polo ponies.... pretty neat. And as always, I love how responsible TOMS is as a company. They are providing shoes for children all over the world through the sale of their shoes... buy one give one... and these particular ones happen to be vegan. So interesting and cool. Now i just have to decide if it is worth my investment......&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-2327537563800585989?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/2327537563800585989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=2327537563800585989' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/2327537563800585989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/2327537563800585989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-drool.html' title='Christmas drool'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-1378294328848807811</id><published>2008-11-23T20:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T20:57:48.434-08:00</updated><title type='text'>quick quote</title><content type='html'>This seemed appropriate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a set="yes" linkindex="19" href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/61105.Dr_Seuss" class="leftAlignedImage" title="Dr. Seuss"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;       &lt;div class="quoteText"&gt;    &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened."    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;-Dr. Seuss&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;       &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-1378294328848807811?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/1378294328848807811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=1378294328848807811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/1378294328848807811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/1378294328848807811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/11/quick-quote.html' title='quick quote'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-7769905089630961037</id><published>2008-11-20T22:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T21:08:11.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>talk of many things</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.jabberwocky.com/carroll/pics/glass21.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 340px;" src="http://www.jabberwocky.com/carroll/pics/glass21.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;"The time has come," the Walrus said,&lt;br /&gt;"To talk of many things:&lt;br /&gt;Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--&lt;br /&gt;Of cabbages--and kings--&lt;br /&gt;And why the sea is boiling hot--&lt;br /&gt;And whether pigs have wings."&lt;br /&gt;-Lewis Carroll (excerpt from The Walrus and the Carpenter &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;, 1872)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it about nonsense and riddles that warm us and make us think and perplex us? What is it about childishness and the abstract that retain such a playfulness while often being so serious and intense and profound? When and why do we lose these often as we grow older?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that Picasso collected children's drawings? He had a large collection of drawings by children. From what I have read, he had claimed that he never drew as simply and intuitively as a child. He had always been able to reproduce things beautifully.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.nga.gov/images/noncol/torsofs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 390px;" src="http://www.nga.gov/images/noncol/torsofs.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; His early work, if you take a look see (such as above &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;Study of a Torso, After a Plaster Cast,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1893/1894, Musée Picasso, Paris)&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;... is something that I think even most critiques of abstraction would enjoy... mainly because they are not particularly abstract.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.artchive.com/artchive/p/picasso/self8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 335px; height: 432px;" src="http://www.artchive.com/artchive/p/picasso/self8.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; It was like he lived his life visually backwards. he spent his entire life trying to draw and paint and create like a child (above self portrait from 1972!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am completely fascinated by this. I have some very early memories.. mere snapshots of a place or thing that I recall vividly. I had moments of clarity that somehow burned themselves into my brain somewhere in my early years. I was younger than 4 when some of these take place... which is crazy.I remember moving from Ohio.. specifically singing on the radio to my parent in the other vehicle.. i think Twinkle Twinkle I think. I remember my family's first home in Michigan and sitting in our kitchen with the accordion doors while my mother taught clarinet lessons. I remember taking a nap in the room upstairs and waking up a little disoriented. I remember my mother coming home from the doctor's office which told her she wouldn't have any more children... and a little later on I remember Rachel being born... my sister who is about 3 1/2 years younger than me (I was more interested in the small pink crocheted basket of chocolate mints than I was in my new sibling). How do I recall these things? They are like dreams. i don't even know if I trust them.. but they are my first concrete memories of childhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have decided to read through the gospels again.. just because I have had a hard time fleshing out the person of Jesus in my mind lately. I am really tired of thinking of him as some hypothetical being... a good character that reoccurs in themes of art and literature and has a good story.. and that I should 'love' somehow. I needed something a little bit more meaty than that so I have been stumbling through Matthew for the last couple weeks. I came upon the part where Jesus' disciples tell the children to go away and Jesus rebukes them and lets them know that the kingdom of heaven belongs to "such as these"... um whoa. In Matthew it is only two little verses. No big deal... but it gets rehashed in the other gospels too. Every single time Jesus is like "Guys.. no... send them over. I'll pray for them. You yourselves need to become like these children to enter the kingdom of heaven." I can just see some of his disciples saying to one another "He says the weirdest things... I am so confused now.. what does that even mean?" Yeah. I think about this a good amount when it comes to all of the things that children do. I have heard a bazillion interpretations on this. Child-like faith- so on.... you know. One of the craziest things I have been re-noticing during this gospel reading deal is how often Jesus tells people to live life backwards....on so many levels...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I am beginning to greatly anticipate the film &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.&lt;/span&gt; From what I have seen, in this story the character lives his life chronologically backwards. I can't wait because I have a feeling I have a lot to gain from these types of stories.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.scifimoviepage.com/upcoming/photos/benjamin_button/benjamin_button-poster1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 222px; height: 300px;" src="http://www.scifimoviepage.com/upcoming/photos/benjamin_button/benjamin_button-poster1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I am a true believer in the idea that "all truth is God's truth". No matter where you find truth, if it is truth it belongs to God. I love children's stories and the fantasticly small fantastic stories of inanimate objects and small animals... spiders and lost shoes and bread crumbs. I sometimes think i must be crazy that these are places where i find stunning truth and where i see the face of God.  I find Him in make-believe, in puddles, in not caring if someone hears me whistling down the street. And in very small stories... stories not unlike the ones that Jesus told. I cannot express to you what that does for my sense of sanity. *phew* Maybe I am not as crazy as I was begining to think I was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://oboerista.files.wordpress.com/2008/07/hungry_caterpillar_html.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 310px; height: 207px;" src="http://oboerista.files.wordpress.com/2008/07/hungry_caterpillar_html.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;But living life backwards? Oh dear... that is whole other level.... a whole other level that I am afraid of exploring... that i don't know if I will know what to do if I get there... or even how to get there if I want to! A whole new level of beleiving in the fantastic... beleiving in love and truth... and God. A place of giving to the por, and believing simply, living fully and refusig to lay my head anywhere. What does the backward life that Jesus speaks of mean for me? He tells the young ruler to sell everything and come and follow him and the young man walks away sad because he has much wealth... oh dear. How will my American born and raised self cope with the culture of Jesus? Where the meek inherit the earth? I don't know... but my brain is begining to wrestle with the dissonance that Jesus causes in my life.... and we will see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-7769905089630961037?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/7769905089630961037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=7769905089630961037' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/7769905089630961037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/7769905089630961037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/11/talk-of-many-things.html' title='talk of many things'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-6770188959889303015</id><published>2008-10-23T21:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T19:34:46.848-07:00</updated><title type='text'>early October reflections</title><content type='html'>So... It has been a touch since I have posted. I have to admit that I have been binging on poetry lately and not sure what that is about but i promise i will have another fantastic bit of eclecticism up here for you soon.&lt;br /&gt;It has been one of the most emotionally difficult months of my life thus far, but despite that I have found myself in the midst of a great feeling of hope. I don't know what I am so hopeful about... but I know there is something just lurking in the wings.&lt;br /&gt;As you may already know, we had the privilege of saying farewell to one of our college mates, Justin Chesnut, this past week as he went to meet the Lord. My mind is still blown by the entire situation and it comes and goes with how 'all right' I am. My biggest impression of the entire experience of seeing a dear friend make this journey is how amazingly proud I am of him and to be able to call him my friend. Maybe I am still struggling with some denial surrounding Justin's death, but I feel as if he has never left and never will. The communion of the saints has become a very important concept to me in this last week. I have needed divine reassurance that our circle remains unbroken even through the event of death. It sounds a little crazy at first, but I have come to see just what a precious gift having a loving community of friends is in this past week, and now having a friend who has spoken into our lives go to be with the Lord I have felt how transcendent of dimension community can become. I know there is a hole in my physical life where Justin fits and it pains my heart deeply to know that he won't be at our get-togethers bodily, and that if I ever have a family that he won't be part of my family's extended community experience directly, but i truly hope that I am continuously cognizant of how he has shaped my world view, my friendships, my memories, and how this will shape my future. I want so badly to believe that i will see him at New Years, or at the next wedding of a friend... but even though I know that isn't physically going to happen I hope, and am going to work to make it so it still continues on some level.&lt;br /&gt;I was on facebook the other day looking through his profile and specifically his pictures. Somehow even with Justin separated from us in this new way that has never truly effected me in this way before, I knew that I was loved. I found a folder full of pictures of friends from Greenville that Justin had labeled as "People I will never forget... and I hope never forget me." I was in there. Twice in fact. My heart did a flip-flop. Wow. Someone has claimed me as a person they never want to forget. Mind you, Ian was in there at least three times as much as me BUT I made the cut. It is amazing to somehow feel so reassured that this friend who I will never again on this earth hear reassuring words from, or stories of interesting things he has been doing, or amazing conversations about God or miracles, never another goofy joke on this earth... this same person is somehow still letting me know that I am loved. This drove home to me how awesome it is that God answers the prayers of saints far after they depart from this earth... and I don't even begin to claim to know the prayers that Justin offered to God, but my heart wells up every time I think of how the prayers in his actions will continue to yield long past his 24 years.&lt;br /&gt;I was also thinking a lot this past week about how God answers prayers in amazing multi-faceted ways. It blows my mind how masterful the hands of God are on our lives. He weaves together stories and coincidences and surprises us with bursts of color and love. Jared, Justin's older brother, told us something that rocked my world during our time there. He told us that he and Jordan, Justin's younger brother, had prayed when they were kids that Justin would have real friends that loved him for him. That right there makes my brain explode. Kate and I were discussing that later and she said "I prayed those types of prayers for myself." I really got to thinking about that. I, especially in high school, pleaded with God to send friends I could trust and be without pretension or acting. Friends who loved Him and wrestled with tough questions while still retaining hope. Friends who wouldn't think my ideas were stupid and wouldn't pressure me into needing to fit into their ideas of what 'cool' should be. After Jared told us about his childhood prayers for his brothers he told us what a blessing we all were to him and his family in this confusing and hurting time. His mom told us that she was amazed at how we dropped everything and came running... and how she didn't think she even had friends who would do that sort of thing. I was so stunned by that. Here all this time when we all have found a 'place' where we fit in and thrive and feel encouraged and loved, we had been the answers to so many prayers. Prayers of our own, of our families, I'm sure of some of our professors, and the more I think about it...the prayers of many saints in a number of indirect ways. How beautiful. How mysterious. Justin was the answer to our prayers while we were being the answer to the prayers of his brothers. That seems like such a simple story, but my mind cannot even wrap around the complexities of how many prayers that may have involved. Relationships.&lt;br /&gt;There were a lot of beautiful God-breathed moments during this process. All I can chalk that up to is that the Lord knows the pain that happens when we are separated and His comfort is great.&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;My mind is swarming with a cacophony of thoughts and questions, but it is over arched and quieted by a peace i am unsure I have ever had before.&lt;br /&gt;Amen&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-6770188959889303015?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/6770188959889303015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=6770188959889303015' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/6770188959889303015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/6770188959889303015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/10/early-october-reflections.html' title='early October reflections'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-8197136071540411692</id><published>2008-10-12T19:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T19:32:23.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Disturb us.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Disturb us, Lord, when&lt;br /&gt;We are too well pleased with ourselves,&lt;br /&gt;When our dreams have come true&lt;br /&gt;Because we have dreamed too little,&lt;br /&gt;When we arrived safely&lt;br /&gt;Because we sailed too close to the shore.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Disturb us, Lord, when&lt;br /&gt;With the abundance of things we possess&lt;br /&gt;We have lost our thirst&lt;br /&gt;For the waters of life;&lt;br /&gt;Having fallen in love with life,&lt;br /&gt;We have ceased to dream of eternity&lt;br /&gt;And in our efforts to build a new earth,&lt;br /&gt;We have allowed our vision&lt;br /&gt;Of the new Heaven to dim.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,&lt;br /&gt;To venture on wider seas&lt;br /&gt;Where storms will show your mastery;&lt;br /&gt;Where losing sight of land,&lt;br /&gt;We shall find the stars.&lt;br /&gt;We ask You to push back&lt;br /&gt;The horizons of our hopes;&lt;br /&gt;And to push into the future&lt;br /&gt;In strength, courage, hope, and love"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-Sir Francis Drake&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Go see &lt;a href="http://callandresponse.com"&gt;Call+&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Response&lt;/a&gt; at your local theater and support the modern abolition movement to end slavery in the USA and abroad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-B&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-8197136071540411692?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/8197136071540411692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=8197136071540411692' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/8197136071540411692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/8197136071540411692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/10/disturb-us.html' title='Disturb us.'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-8599867598216521791</id><published>2008-09-24T09:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T09:20:13.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'>'Spring and Fall, to a Young Child'</title><content type='html'>&lt;pre&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;'Spring and Fall, to a Young Child'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Margaret, are you grieving&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Over Goldengrove unleaving?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Leaves, like the things of man, you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Ah! as the heart grows older&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;It will come to such sights colder&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;By and by, nor spare a sigh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;And yet you will weep and know why.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Now no matter, child, the name:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Sorrow's springs are the same.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;What heart heard of, ghost guessed:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;It is the blight man was born for,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;It is Margaret you mourn for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;     -- Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;(I think I am on a bit of a &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;poetry&lt;/span&gt; appreciation kick. i think I should read more. I love this one and have for some time&lt;/span&gt;, because I identify with it so deeply. I have to check my motives when I am sad to see if I am merely mourning for myself and oh so often I am.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-8599867598216521791?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/8599867598216521791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=8599867598216521791' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/8599867598216521791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/8599867598216521791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/09/spring-and-fall-to-young-child.html' title='&apos;Spring and Fall, to a Young Child&apos;'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-4527819370972472955</id><published>2008-09-22T10:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T10:53:48.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i thank You God</title><content type='html'>&lt;div id="poem"&gt;&lt;!--     &lt;title&gt;i thank you God for most this amazing... (65)&lt;/title&gt;     &lt;author&gt;e.e. cummings&lt;/author&gt;     &lt;genre&gt;poem&lt;/genre&gt;     &lt;volume&gt;&lt;/volume&gt;     &lt;year&gt;&lt;/year&gt; --&gt;  &lt;pre&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;e. e. cummings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;i thank You God for most this amazing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;which is natural which is infinite which is yes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;(i who have died am alive again today,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;day of life and love and wings:and of the gay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;great happening illimitably earth)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;how should tasting touching hearing seeing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;breathing any--lifted from the no&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;of all nothing--human merely being&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;doubt unimaginable You?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;(now the ears of my ears awake and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;now the eyes of my eyes are opened)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-4527819370972472955?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/4527819370972472955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=4527819370972472955' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/4527819370972472955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/4527819370972472955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-thank-you-god.html' title='i thank You God'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-7780601576954391742</id><published>2008-09-02T16:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T16:18:44.114-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank you Albert.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Times;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I don't pretend to understand the universe - it's much bigger than I am. -Albert Einstein&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.cnet.co.uk/i/c/blg/cat/einstein.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://www.cnet.co.uk/i/c/blg/cat/einstein.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-7780601576954391742?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/7780601576954391742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=7780601576954391742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/7780601576954391742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/7780601576954391742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/09/thank-you-albert.html' title='Thank you Albert.'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-6975509387937048633</id><published>2008-08-28T13:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T13:24:32.739-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Happy</title><content type='html'>This blog was too happy not to post. A Print A Day has won me over today. I am a fan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://aprintaday.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://aprintaday.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of you are thinking... "ok.. so what am I supposed to do with this?" WELL. If you are smart you can view these to-do list downloads in light of the massive amount of scrap one sided printer paper that is chillin' near your desk. OR jsut think of that huge student print account that you NEVER use! FAB-O. And just for a little eye candy... check out this cute creation--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3056/2543420014_013019be21_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 233px; height: 303px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3056/2543420014_013019be21_m.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MMmmm Mmm Mmmmm.&lt;br /&gt;Love it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-6975509387937048633?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/6975509387937048633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=6975509387937048633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/6975509387937048633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/6975509387937048633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/08/too-happy.html' title='Too Happy'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3056/2543420014_013019be21_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-3198999375852560781</id><published>2008-08-28T13:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T13:01:45.622-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Both And</title><content type='html'>Check out the blog we put up together... not to mention you should come to my show :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://kittermansdc.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://kittermansdc.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think we'll be posting more things we are doing in general rather than specific thoughts... but hey :) super cool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-3198999375852560781?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/3198999375852560781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=3198999375852560781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/3198999375852560781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/3198999375852560781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/08/both-and.html' title='Both And'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-8919009667520357619</id><published>2008-08-25T07:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T07:09:42.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How can I Keep From Singing?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="lyrics"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;" class="lead"&gt;Words:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;bio("Ro&amp;shy;bert Low&amp;shy;ry","l/o/w/lowry_r")&lt;/script&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline; font-family: arial;"&gt;Robert Lowry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;, 1860.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;My life flows on in endless song;&lt;br /&gt;Above earth’s lamentation&lt;br /&gt;I hear the sweet though far off hymn&lt;br /&gt;That hails a new creation:&lt;br /&gt;Through all the tumult and the strife&lt;br /&gt;I hear the music ringing;&lt;br /&gt;It finds an echo in my soul—&lt;br /&gt;How can I keep from singing?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;What though my joys and comforts die?&lt;br /&gt;The Lord my Savior liveth;&lt;br /&gt;What though the darkness gather round!&lt;br /&gt;Songs in the night He giveth:&lt;br /&gt;No storm can shake my inmost calm&lt;br /&gt;While to that refuge clinging;&lt;br /&gt;Since Christ is Lord of Heav’n and earth,&lt;br /&gt;How can I keep from singing?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I lift mine eyes; the cloud grows thin;&lt;br /&gt;I see the blue above it;&lt;br /&gt;And day by day this pathway smoothes&lt;br /&gt;Since first I learned to love it:&lt;br /&gt;The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart,&lt;br /&gt;A fountain ever springing:&lt;br /&gt;All things are mine since I am His—&lt;br /&gt;How can I keep from singing?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-8919009667520357619?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/8919009667520357619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=8919009667520357619' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/8919009667520357619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/8919009667520357619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/08/how-can-i-keep-from-singing.html' title='How can I Keep From Singing?'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-1482840070249996337</id><published>2008-07-01T15:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T16:41:41.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sur-e-ly</title><content type='html'>It is amazing to me just how much scripture i have learned from singing over the years. It is my absolute FAVORITE way of learning text. I miss choral singing a lot, but what truly amazes about the situation is that I think about these songs allllllllll the time.&lt;br /&gt;I have been a little down-trodden recently and bits of Part 2 of the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Messiah&lt;/span&gt; keep coming into my brain. Specifically the part taken from this scripture:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3 style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Isaiah 53:3-5 (King James Version)&lt;/h3&gt; &lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);" class="publisher-info-inset"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a linkindex="13" href="http://www.biblegateway.com/versions/?action=getVersionInfo&amp;amp;vid=9"&gt;King James Version&lt;/a&gt; (KJV)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt; &lt;span id="en-KJV-18715" class="sup"&gt;3&lt;/span&gt;He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt; &lt;span id="en-KJV-18716" class="sup"&gt;4&lt;/span&gt;Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt; &lt;span id="en-KJV-18717" class="sup"&gt;5&lt;/span&gt;But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.&lt;/p&gt;I pulled it from KJV because that is the closest to what Handel uses. Plus, I realized that the KJV is what most of the scripture I have memorized through choral singing comes from... it is so poetically arranged already.&lt;br /&gt;I just really like choral classical music. I like a lot of other things too... but there will always be a super special place in my hear for that music no matter what. It gives me a lot of hope and i feel as if I am part of the communion of saints when i am part of choral singing... or even when i just enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to go see a reading of Shane Claiborne and Chris Haw's new book  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Jesus for President&lt;/span&gt; the other night and the presentation was fantastic. It was a multi-sensory event and I really enjoyed it. I have other thoughts on this subject and maybe I will put those here at another date and time. During the singing I recognized so many old hymns and was completely blown away by how much I knew just by listening as they were including gospel songs.&lt;br /&gt;hmmm.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could remember the one that we sang that i realized was so familiar.&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-1482840070249996337?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/1482840070249996337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=1482840070249996337' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/1482840070249996337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/1482840070249996337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/07/sur-e-ly.html' title='Sur-e-ly'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-4101351511581199125</id><published>2008-06-20T15:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T16:14:05.283-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='podcasts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='technology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='links'/><title type='text'>Art geekable podcasts</title><content type='html'>Who knew the NGA did podcasts!? Not I! But now I know and now you know.&lt;br /&gt;Just listened in yesterday to a couple of their Art Talks and Back Stories..... muy bueno. I'm a fan.&lt;br /&gt;The National Gallery of Art really has a special place in my heart because I love it even when I don't think I am going to.... and even when it isn't stuff I am actually into I always learn things that comes in handy later. It is kind of strange that I think of Art History tidbits to be helpful.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway... I'm pretty darn jazzed about it. check it out &lt;a href="http://www.nga.gov/podcasts/index.shtm"&gt;here at their website&lt;/a&gt;. The one about Fontainebleau is great. I also found the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Amature Photography and the Decisive Moment&lt;/span&gt; one was really great. It did make me a little antsy that i didn't get to go to the exhibit, but still some really great thoughts about snapshots past and present.. and even a touch of future. I would just like to take a moment to pat myself on the back, because the curator gave a shout out to cell phone photos as the snapshot of today. THANK YOU. I'm just a little bit proud about being on a little bit of the same page as a curator at the National Gallery. So neat. You can be sure that will be added to my podcast list (and just FYI you don't need iTunes for podcasts as has been the excuse of some of you out there... i know most of us are aware of that... but in case you weren't... there you have it).&lt;br /&gt;ALTHOUGH Lisa did introduce me to &lt;a href="http://www.apple.com/education/itunesu_mobilelearning/itunesu.html"&gt;iTunes U&lt;/a&gt; on the itunes store main page and it is rocking my world! I can get Fine Arts lectures from some really great Universities for free. Where have I been? It's like with the google book search... what has taken me so long to find these things? Anyway- this is a way I can keep my brain alive and moving. Some great lectures not to mention a broad range of subjects.&lt;br /&gt;I know podcasts are &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;soooooo last year&lt;/span&gt;, but i guess i didn't realize just how helpful getting a podcast could be. Something in my brain was saying "why on earth would I want to listen to some random person's thoughts daily?" Really I should have just realized that I can listen to interesting things whenever I want via this method from all sorts of places. Wow. So happy with technology.&lt;br /&gt;Just wanted to throw that out there. I don't remember where I was listening to a sung mass at, but you can find sung masses out there too... nothing like listening to a cathedral choir while squaring up your spreadsheets :)&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-4101351511581199125?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/4101351511581199125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=4101351511581199125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/4101351511581199125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/4101351511581199125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/06/art-geekable-podcasts.html' title='Art geekable podcasts'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-3878414007958259015</id><published>2008-06-18T19:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T19:59:21.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the great crafted mustache</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFnLZg_xTfI/AAAAAAAAACY/TBSBmggIePA/s1600-h/Photo+38.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFnLZg_xTfI/AAAAAAAAACY/TBSBmggIePA/s400/Photo+38.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213421682872634866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you can't stop the mustache... nobody can stop the mustache..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-3878414007958259015?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/3878414007958259015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=3878414007958259015' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/3878414007958259015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/3878414007958259015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/06/great-crafted-mustache.html' title='the great crafted mustache'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFnLZg_xTfI/AAAAAAAAACY/TBSBmggIePA/s72-c/Photo+38.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-2763696165205431742</id><published>2008-06-15T15:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T15:51:51.024-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cell phone pics'/><title type='text'>The post-modern polaroid</title><content type='html'>Ian was a champ and made me use my microSD card reader... which I had never done before and which worked quite well :)&lt;br /&gt;SOOOO... I dropped some of the weird pictures I take with my cell phone and I figure why not share them? Sadly when my phone first died it took some of those gems with it.. but I am beginning a new collection. ;)&lt;br /&gt;While uploading these i really felt impressed that cell phone pictures are very much the "polaroid" of this generation. There isn't a whole lot of control on the camera or anything, but we get a very raw image that we can have NOW. However we can copy and reproduce these... still... it resonated for me in some strange way. I remember finding polaroids of people I had never met in albums at home and even in books in thrift stores and feeling fascinated by them. Anyway... without any retouching or further ado... my cell phone photos for this month :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWZmZoCYVI/AAAAAAAAAAk/5kaBAJtTcZM/s1600-h/0513081410.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWZmZoCYVI/AAAAAAAAAAk/5kaBAJtTcZM/s400/0513081410.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212241028744110418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWZmitfs0I/AAAAAAAAAAs/HCulPquAicA/s1600-h/0513081410b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWZmitfs0I/AAAAAAAAAAs/HCulPquAicA/s400/0513081410b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212241031182922562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWZmnBRvmI/AAAAAAAAAA0/byEVRSx_NW8/s1600-h/0513081419a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWZmnBRvmI/AAAAAAAAAA0/byEVRSx_NW8/s400/0513081419a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212241032339635810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWZm56aEaI/AAAAAAAAAA8/zCThnBjsgr0/s1600-h/0513081422.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWZm56aEaI/AAAAAAAAAA8/zCThnBjsgr0/s400/0513081422.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212241037411094946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWZnCuB_wI/AAAAAAAAABE/0pkjMQaw-j4/s1600-h/0523081039.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWZnCuB_wI/AAAAAAAAABE/0pkjMQaw-j4/s400/0523081039.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212241039775104770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWaUSLROXI/AAAAAAAAABk/i7ZVaFhvm0k/s1600-h/0529082020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWaUSLROXI/AAAAAAAAABk/i7ZVaFhvm0k/s400/0529082020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212241817018382706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWaUlk-5nI/AAAAAAAAABs/QsarTHiiOcg/s1600-h/0612081738a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWaUlk-5nI/AAAAAAAAABs/QsarTHiiOcg/s400/0612081738a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212241822226507378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWacN7ALPI/AAAAAAAAAB0/dWot6cxPu44/s1600-h/0615081551.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWacN7ALPI/AAAAAAAAAB0/dWot6cxPu44/s400/0615081551.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212241953315368178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWacbVoHsI/AAAAAAAAAB8/0uy-oVfRQ7M/s1600-h/0615081640.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWacbVoHsI/AAAAAAAAAB8/0uy-oVfRQ7M/s400/0615081640.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212241956916698818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWac-BsXqI/AAAAAAAAACI/jOu2rR8Lb7Q/s1600-h/0615081641.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWac-BsXqI/AAAAAAAAACI/jOu2rR8Lb7Q/s400/0615081641.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212241966228332194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWbMvWunOI/AAAAAAAAACQ/RfzLAa5NLrE/s1600-h/0615081642.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWbMvWunOI/AAAAAAAAACQ/RfzLAa5NLrE/s400/0615081642.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212242786923748578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-2763696165205431742?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/2763696165205431742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=2763696165205431742' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/2763696165205431742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/2763696165205431742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/06/post-modern-polaroid.html' title='The post-modern polaroid'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SFWZmZoCYVI/AAAAAAAAAAk/5kaBAJtTcZM/s72-c/0513081410.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-4896177085671031474</id><published>2008-06-08T11:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T12:11:40.236-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Doing stuff... making things... watching and listening</title><content type='html'>I thought it may be time to share some of the links that have been really making my life happy. A little music... a little art... a little bit of whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really enjoying Belle and Sebastian right now. &lt;a href="http://www.belleandsebastian.com/"&gt;http://www.belleandsebastian.com/&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.threadbanger.com/"&gt;ThreadBanger&lt;/a&gt;... in case you haven't checked them out... you are totally missing out. Totally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://blog.craftzine.com/"&gt;Craftzine.com&lt;/a&gt;'s blog has been keeping me thinking about making and smiling as I do so.&lt;br /&gt;If you aren't member of &lt;a href="http://www.hulu.com/"&gt;Hulu&lt;/a&gt; you should be. Go watch the season finale of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/House_%28TV_series%29"&gt;House&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention that there is some quality film out right now that is not being viewed enough! My latest discoveries have been &lt;a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.foxsearchlight.com/youngatheart/"&gt;Young @ Heart&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt; which I am crazy about! Talk about an inspiring family friendly film event. Oh my goodness!&lt;br /&gt;Also- on DVD &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0805564/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lars and the Real Girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; may seem a bit sketchy from some of the synopsis... but do not be fooled! This is a beautiful film that is well worth the watch! I have also been joined in opinion by not just friends... but their parent's... so if you really are worried think of them and add it to your queue NOW!&lt;br /&gt;For those of you looking for something a little off the beaten path (mind you I found this thanks to Craftzine's blog) Yeondoo Jung's beautiful photography is really doing it for me. Especially her &lt;a href="http://www.yeondoojung.com/artworks_view_wonderland.php?no=88"&gt;Wonderland&lt;/a&gt; series where she makes compositions based off of children's drawings... i love this idea!!!&lt;br /&gt;If you are not shopping on &lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com"&gt;Etsy.com&lt;/a&gt; for almost every holiday and gifting situation... you are missing a great wealth of handmade goods that will rock your world! &lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=12406968"&gt;This decal for the toilet&lt;/a&gt; by Etsy seller vital just tickles me! Even if you aren't buying every time you visit... prepare to be inspired!&lt;br /&gt;OH! &lt;a href="http://books.google.com/"&gt;Google book search&lt;/a&gt;. I re-discovered this again the other day and thought "how have I been living without this so long!?" Really great resource for a bunch of different subjects... and full view books (not to mention printable) for numerous classics that are in the public domain. LOVE IT. This will greatly cut down on the amount of books that will be hiding in my suitcase in the future. Not to mention that if I am ever lucky enough to get one of those cool &lt;a href="http://www.sonystyle.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/CategoryDisplay?storeId=10151&amp;amp;mpe_id=1908904905&amp;amp;jspStoreDir=SonyStyleStorefront&amp;amp;intv_id=1908906856&amp;amp;categoryId=8198552921644508799&amp;amp;evtype=CpgnClick&amp;amp;langId=-1&amp;amp;catalogId=10551&amp;amp;ddkey=ClickInfo&amp;amp;SR=sensory:shop:reader:ss&amp;amp;ref=http%3A//www.sony.com/index.php"&gt;digital readers&lt;/a&gt;... i will be set :)&lt;br /&gt;I know there are a billion other things I should be sharing with you that are rocking my face off... but I have places to go and people to see :)&lt;br /&gt;More linkedy-links laterz.&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-4896177085671031474?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/4896177085671031474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=4896177085671031474' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/4896177085671031474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/4896177085671031474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/06/doing-stuff-making-things-watching-and.html' title='Doing stuff... making things... watching and listening'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-6967743509892724606</id><published>2008-06-06T19:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T20:00:17.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Greenville wedding</title><content type='html'>Caitlin and Chase Macri... awesome. How neat.&lt;br /&gt;They are married now and that is indeed what counts.&lt;br /&gt;Here's a little taste of the wedding photos on my side of the table :) I can't wait to see what James has up his sleeve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SEn49MjVFMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/-09VwIktyWE/s1600-h/DSC_0070.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SEn49MjVFMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/-09VwIktyWE/s400/DSC_0070.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208968174255805634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will have more for you all soon. I need to get some things thrown in batches (which admittedly makes me a little nervy). It will be great.&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;hearts&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-6967743509892724606?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/6967743509892724606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=6967743509892724606' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/6967743509892724606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/6967743509892724606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/06/greenville-wedding.html' title='Greenville wedding'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SEn49MjVFMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/-09VwIktyWE/s72-c/DSC_0070.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-5265494057247283694</id><published>2008-05-14T21:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T21:28:56.342-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Square</title><content type='html'>I gave myself an assignment tonight. My family came to visit a couple months ago, and the pics from  hanging out with them haven't gotten much love yet. Soooooo- I decided that I was going to crop a whole load of pics into squares.  Square composition doesn't seem to get a whole lot of love recently- so I though I woulf give it a try with some family vacation pics. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;National Gallery&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3220/2494151486_7ddd83ae12.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3220/2494151486_7ddd83ae12.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Botanical gardens&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2146/2494150060_9c32331a4f.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2146/2494150060_9c32331a4f.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2233/2494150248_4911827f35.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2233/2494150248_4911827f35.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3026/2493332559_93cc109dc5.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3026/2493332559_93cc109dc5.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3017/2493332763_95cbcdcaf9.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3017/2493332763_95cbcdcaf9.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arlington and the monuments&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2395/2493334479_bc8069830a.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2395/2493334479_bc8069830a.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2221/2494152398_a85c7dd234.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2221/2494152398_a85c7dd234.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2204/2493333859_b7a0ff70a2.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2204/2493333859_b7a0ff70a2.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old post office tower&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2390/2493333949_a84ee713f4.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2390/2493333949_a84ee713f4.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2350/2493333569_ecfb3600fe.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2350/2493333569_ecfb3600fe.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. Well. This was fun and interesting.&lt;br /&gt;Squares. Sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I will give myself more assignments. this was fun :).&lt;br /&gt;I plan on treating the pictures differently for my family... but squares were really hard. Partially because I am taking photos in a rectangle and paying attention as much as I can to composition in a rectangle. Turning it to a square is really different. What do you keep? What do you omit? How  do  you create an obvious balance or unbalance in something that is by nature balanced, uniform, and symmetrical in so many ways. How do you find an asymmetry that keeps things interesting? I think maybe my next challenge will be to center my subject intentionally to make things symmetrical and almost uncomfortable. I noticed that pretty much all of my composition lends itself to a focal point in one lower hand corner or the other. hmm. why not the upper corner? I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;Keep looking. :)&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-5265494057247283694?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/5265494057247283694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=5265494057247283694' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/5265494057247283694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/5265494057247283694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/05/square.html' title='Square'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1833920924476091708.post-575569977302213613</id><published>2008-05-12T19:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T20:17:27.414-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Try for the first time... again</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;So- Let's skip introductions and just get down with this. I've been busy oddly enough but I am still keeping some things to myself until later. It was a little bit of a rough day today so if I am disjointed (and I know I already am) please extend a little bit of grace my way. Please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough- Okay! What is first on the docket? Ah! Some of our friends had baby boy named Gideon. Waaaaay cute. To add cuteness to cuteness they decided to give their little guy's new abode a robot theme and I went to town making this little guy a fun little appliqué bib... that honestly probably won't be terribly functional (i warned them about the buttons... but I just couldn't live without them on there) but it is cute- and that is what matters in my little world that the moment :)&lt;br /&gt;I machine and hand stitched... so I am getting quite dexterous. One one of the blogs that I have been reading about sewing someone brought up the idea of drawing with a sewing machine and I about peed myself..... I won't lie. Between that and the idea of embroidering my own stuff on my little beginner machine... I am pretty pumped. WHY on EARTH did I not think of drawing with a sewing machine in college? You know... when I was working towards something and having people critique the tar out of me weekly? It gives me something to think about though. oh bah humbug... i'm blogblabbering.. here it is-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2070/2466088971_f677691a30.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2070/2466088971_f677691a30.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah yes- I went to my first game at the new Nats stadium. Soooooo nice. Gosh. If all baseball stadiums were like that I may have actually learned the rules before this year. Heather gave me a nice little quiz and I flunked I am happy (or not really) to say. I am pathetic when it comes to sports that people actually like. Here I am in the stands trying to figure out my camera and I suddenly have to stop and ask "why are they changing on the field?" Entirely serious. I had NO idea. Three outs? Who ever heard of such a thing! (Good grief self... get it together.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2276/2466918808_e294d521e7.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2276/2466918808_e294d521e7.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;oooo! green! I love how they mow the logo into the grass. Any clue to how one does that? If I had known that you could mow pictures into the grass, chores as a child would have been a lot more fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3004/2466090163_26e51af972.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3004/2466090163_26e51af972.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to Heather for taking me out to the ball game... not to mention trading seats with me so I didn't have to sit next to the guy with the disgusting dirt-stache and popped collar. (um... yuck)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2271/2466104163_8608128e7a.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2271/2466104163_8608128e7a.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously- it was so much fun going to a game with people who will explain to you what is going on, are having lots of fun, and are just as annoyed as you at the girls in the sparkly booby-shirts (also known as the staple of all skanky club ware) getting in and out of the row... albeit for different reasons. Quite frankly i was more offended my their stunning lack of ability to match metallics than their amazing need to get in and out of the row  every three seconds. (They can't help it... they need to burn off the red-cup beer) . Still Sarah and Jill look pretty happy- mind you they have been talking about men in fitted baseball pants all night. how can you NOT be happy about that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3184/2466932348_d7ccd0e569.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3184/2466932348_d7ccd0e569.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH! and just for icing on the cake for the great American past time.... some great American fireworks! (Never mind the fact that these suckers sound  uncannily like gunshots when you are walking home alone on a game night.)  I guess this kind of looks like the lights are exploding, but I promise it was fireworks... because everyone should always believe the promises  of people in the nation's capitol when it comes to what things look like vs. what they really are- just throwing that out there *wink*. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2411/2466933540_a4c74a0dcc.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2411/2466933540_a4c74a0dcc.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mah. Enough American leisure time.&lt;br /&gt;So... i know that the organization of this blog is goign to make sense only to myself, but once again, that is why this is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;my&lt;/span&gt; blog and not &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;yours.&lt;/span&gt; That and I claimed the name first. :)&lt;br /&gt;Another bib- this time for a little guy with a surf theme :) I really couldn't think of something fathomable with my limited skillz at the moment... so the old faithful whale came out to play.... and honestly I love it. Why did I not love my mom's whale collection more growing up? I think I recall counting upward of 300 whales of some sort in our home at one point. :) much love.&lt;br /&gt;Another part hand part machine.... I think it worked pretty well. I am getting pretty handy :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2019/2466934494_bae2e37693.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2019/2466934494_bae2e37693.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;next- my attempt at being kind of deviant. I created some stickers and have left them anonymously (mostly anyway) on and in various places for unsuspecting people to find them :)&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully it will be a happy reaction. I almost want to leave them where I will never think to look for them again, just so I don't get stressed about what terrible things could happen to this little owlie out on the dark streets of DC. I hope those who find them like them or have some reaction that is slightly positive :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2298/2466933874_b2cbd9ba29.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2298/2466933874_b2cbd9ba29.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah yes. We have a new member in our home. This is Wednesday, our fishy. He is hilarious as fish go, and possibly partially responsible for keeping us happy during finals. He is very stylish and color coordinated (poor guy) and lives in a pretty much completely orange world... outside of his very trendy asian inspired sunken boat... they are all the rage in hip fish pads right now we are told.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2186/2466089445_45a365e5c1.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2186/2466089445_45a365e5c1.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is about it. Here's a little bit of everyday life for all of you haven't hung out with us in a while... nutritious nachos with a side of green beans. Yin and yang, my friends. Yin and yang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2226/2466935040_25d13a69c1.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2226/2466935040_25d13a69c1.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alright. I hope to consider this a success and I will try harder next time on a blog post. :)&lt;br /&gt;Mucho love&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1833920924476091708-575569977302213613?l=paintpants.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/feeds/575569977302213613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1833920924476091708&amp;postID=575569977302213613' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/575569977302213613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1833920924476091708/posts/default/575569977302213613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paintpants.blogspot.com/2008/05/try-for-first-time-again.html' title='Try for the first time... again'/><author><name>paint_pants</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06064892899784067209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iTkbBOR39Ns/SUs0FhALM7I/AAAAAAAAADM/wUjp3jAxfsc/s1600-R/n152400386_30102809_3283.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
