my carpenter; my laughter

This is my little nook. My apologies, it's hard to see (if you'd like, click here to see it up close).

After making some complaints about my previous desk, a certain mr. aaron decided he'd build me one, one that suited me. And it suits me well, let me tell youu! As it happens, I've developed an affinity for the place in which it sits- all because of this desk. I think I should call this favorited spot, "The Corner."

Today, I've finally settled into it. The smell of the varnish is still clinging on, and makes my room oh so aromatic.. mmmm.

You might be wondering what's with the outhouse cutout in the cabinet door, and why there are a total of five knobs screwed on. We decided an outhouse symbol was appropriate because this will be where I'll keep all my crap. I said crap! And the knobs? Well, it's just for style, because you know, if I have a desk, I need sumpin' to fit my steeze. Youuu know!

(many thanks to mr. aaron, my love and my personal carpenter.)

oh hi. this is me.

I invite you now into my thoughts:

There is nothing more satisfying than hearing a room burst with laughter the instant you make a joke. hahahaha! It's the zest of life! I think mostly because it usually happens when I am most myself. Catch me candid, please! And don't hold your breath, belt it out with bursts of air! Feel it big! And round! Feel it swoop down into your belly, and come out of the funnel that is your mouth, and indulge!

Why have these thoughts been roaming around my head? Because yesterday:

Yesterday I found myself sitting in front of a classroom acting as a panelist for a discussion on cultural differences. (though, I'm probably no more foreign than you are). I was incredibly nervous at the start, but after eliciting a response to a certain question, the knots in my gut were cut loose as people roared, doubling over in their seats. Thank you, thank you! I am in myself, and satisfied.

Aaron (the same mr. aaron) once told me, "Laughter reinterprets life." And so it does.

To me, it's joy, sealed in grace-- for such broken creatures, we've been endowed with the ability to experience such rapture.

So. Let's participate often in this divine providence. Let's laugh, and let ourselves go!

random, but funny, no?

hahahahaha

Life is only going... it just never thinks to stay. So why not take photos along the way? Why not write pages and pages on end recollecting our favorite memories?!

This is what's wonderful about jotting down the smaller stories of your day: you begin to be a better person. Yes. You really do. You become an avid admirer of people, of daily interaction, of small things that easily go unnoticed. You become a better story-teller I think too.

Oh I pray I be a librarian of memories! May I be fascinated by life, and awestruck daily!

Alright, so leave me now to my recollecting... (thank you).

Sometimes I get down.

A very long time ago, sometime when I was only a kid, I realized that angry people like to make other people angry, and that hurt people like to hurt people. I'm not exactly sure when this idea began to penetrate past my brainbox and pervade my way of handling conflict, but I think it changed me. For the good or for the worse, I do not know.

Most of you reading this (if you actually do) will wonder what is prompting this post, and will assume that today I am particularly down. And I'll admit it. I am feeling a bit down this morning... being twenty-two, with a bachelor's degree, living in the same house as your parents, and attempting to live a more adult life is... frustrating.

When I find the t-shirt I'm wearing wet with tears falling from my cheek, when I'm venting to a friend about my sadness, when I give myself a moment... it feels good. I often like to stay in that place because I am feeling some kind of intensity that ironically lets me feel more alive. I feel closer to my Jesus. Is that strange?

There is a 'however' though! However. instead of wallowing where my sorrows lie, I decided something different.

Instead of putting my energies on feeling disheartened about what I cannot do, I am doing what I can. What I can do is free myself to do the things that bring me joy.

I will dance when no one is looking.

bike. and bike father than I thought I could.

read a story.

build callouses on my finger tips from holding guitar strings.

sing as loud as I can with no worry of being heard.

write.

make something delicious.

listen to my Jesus when He speaks, or try to.

I will be capable of having joy.

and be free to love my enemies.

If I can't have my cake and eat it, I'll have nutella, and strawberries, sandwiched between a slice of sweet oat grain bread. And I shall eat it, and it will be good.

Life Currently: On Lessons.

Have you felt the fall breeze recently? Slowly blowing through, cool and crisp, I feel it coming.

It's been dawning on me that this past summer has been spent learning that life is full of lessons... and so I learn. And I tell myself, "Pay attention (to all the things that swirl around you, to every movement of your mind, body, soul; pay close attention)."

Of recent, I have found a love for routine. Once I realized that I actually had a few in place, I couldn't go back. It stole me. There is something very beautiful about having a routine, I think it speaks of faithfulness. My faithfulness to it, and its faithfulness to me. I wake up in the morning, make my bed, put toothpaste on my toothbrush, plop on the bathroom floor, and brush brush brush. That's my morning routine, and I love it. It's simple, but its

simplicity is what I'm taken by. It just feels so good to be faithful to something.

My routines are the few things in life presently that are left uninterrupted, and undisturbed. It's sacred to me as I am learning what it means to hold myself accountable to something that I intrinsically know is good for my soul. Who'd a thunk brushing your teeth could be so freeing?! It is for me. I could go on about how good routines are, how a rhythm keeps one present, how my routines have helped me see deeper into my truest self... but I shant. Mostly because

I'm still processing.

Summer, you were a deep breath for me, sometimes a huff of frustration, but nonetheless, thank you. Autumn, you are not yet.

And of course, a few photos:

love.

Not bad.

Sister fran.

Clementine did something very unlady like.