NO MORE SCHOOL(!!!)!

You may think that this post about how happy I am to be finished (forever!) with classwork ought to have come earlier--as in, at the end of my last class in June. But I am only truly feeling the elation now because only now am I not only free from all wretchedness of academia, but also free to do what I really want to do: work! ministry!

THANK GOD I NEVER HAVE TO TAKE ANOTHER CLASS IN SEMINARY AGAIN! I CAN WORK NOW! YAY!

This week I started a chaplaincy internship and a church internship. I think they're both going to be great! I'm so happy--which has made me realize how much I hated being a full time grad student. Which seems odd, since I still love learning--reading and writing--and on scholarly subjects, even. But I hated the unnaturalness of relationships. Particularly the teacher-student relationship. That felt somewhat demeaning to me. And relationships with other students were always so superficial. There was no cohort, so you were only in the same classes with people for one short quarter and then you might not see them at all the next quarter.

Anyway, thank heavens that's all done with and finished now. Time to continue being happy!

a broken sonnet

Intercession Interrupted

Why pray at all? stiff measured reason frowned
though heart unheeding would for love implore
--be logic damned--yet heart now ceded. For
He came
Whose love through every soul inch wound
and intercessor’s frantic fervor drowned
in faith, content unpleading to adore.
As if he’d said: “I could not love them more.”
I: “Lord, it’s hard to pray with you around.”
For where I would cry out with tears, instead
by glory crushed, but whisper hallelu!
Yet mortal fools must ask our daily bread;
at once admit we doubt and know him true,
while God alone perceives, directs above
unyielding logic of unmeasured love.

Blyth's Tragopan

Sometime last year, we went to the San Diego Zoo. There we saw a most strikingly beautiful bird: Blyth's tragopan. I decided I wanted to do a painting of it and, more than a year later, I have finally done so.

There were two of them at the zoo. One was running and one was roosting.

I wanted to do a more stylized portrayal, but it was a bit beyond my skill level ... Maybe next time.

The Oinkster

Brandon and I have been trying to hit all the landmark cheap eats in the area. So far we've had burgers at Rick's, Pie'N'Burger, Hamlet and Jake's--chili burgers at Tommy's ("chili" should properly be in quotation marks--it's more like a chili flavored starch paste)--and pastrami at The Hat and Brent's. Last weekend we experienced The Oinkster--which, Brandon pointed out, is like the best of all the other landmark cheap eats combined.



Check this out:



Brandon had the pulled pork sandwich (top/right)--which was okay. But I just had to go for "The Royale" (bottom/left): classic cheeseburger with lettuce, tomato, pickles, and Roquefort; pastrami; bacon; and chili sauce. I was expecting it to be a messy ordeal, but as you can see, the burger is exceedingly well constructed: compact, easily bite-able, with perfect proportions, such that each flavor is accented yet does not overpower the others.

Yum. And I don't even like chili! (Not until last weekend, at least.) Also, the fries were excellent. I think we paid $25 (including a generous tip).

beauty is in the eye of the astigmatic

As I sit here typing, I can see above the computer screen, through the window, across the quad, in the eucalyptus trees, a shiny purple, silver and gold balloon, torn and caught in the branches. It's been there for quite a while. The day I got my new glasses, I put them on so I could see how much clearer it would look from here. I was surprised that although the image became much sharper, the brightness and prominence of the colors were very much muted.

I like my glasses because, with them, I can read signs that are far away, and I can see leaf shapes, bark texture, birds, and animals more clearly from a distance. But in some ways, the world is more beautiful with the vertical axis out of focus.* Wrinkles, pores, and tiny hairs on people's faces are smoothed away. Colors are more striking. The whole world looks softer, friendlier. It's like living in a Monet.

In what sense do the glasses improve my vision? I can see the details better, but the larger picture becomes less clear. Is a photograph or a painting a more accurate representation of an object? From a scientific perspective a photo may be better--but from the perspective of human experience, from the point of view of one who does not merely see, but who attends, who looks with intention, who evaluates, appreciates, and longs for beauty, a representation that omits the details but brings out what is most important--the glory of purple and gold, shining among dusty green leaves--may be more true to the object than photographic realism.


*Vertical axis out of focus: I use this phrasing because astigmatism does not actually cause a general blurring of vision (it is not like unfocusing the lens of a camera)--it's more similar to seeing double.

Harry Potter and Imaginative Writing

I am not a fan of the Harry Potter books. I read the first three, and thought they were fun, but nothing to write home about. On the fourth book, I completely lost interest because the long detailed descriptions of the wizarding world held no interest for me. But all that descriptive writing, which I find so tedious, seems to be what the fans love.

From what I have read of the books, it seems the creative acheivement of J.K. Rowling is not in the crafting of a story, nor in the style of writing, nor in any kind of genuine originality, but in the fact that she created a fantasy world with a vast amount of detail. That's why to one person the books may seem irksomely cliched and "imaginatively derivative," whereas to someone else they are "richly imaginative."

But the way in which J.K. Rowling gave her imagination free reign--although it results in a magical world where anything can happen--is, I think, detrimental to the art of storytelling. Another blog I was reading discusses how an author can fall into the error of letting magic in their stories become poorly thought out, and even inconsistent or illogical. This is increasingly a problem the fewer limitations the author has decided to work with.

The use of magic in a story is much more fun and interesting when it has clear limitations. We see it in all the classic fairytales--the hero/heroine is given three magic objects, each of which can do one thing only; the wicked fairy places an enchantment, with a very specific result, and a very specific antidote (she will sleep for one thousand years ... it can only be broken if a prince breaks through and kisses her). These stories would not work if magic could be used for anything, by anyone, at any time.

This is something I've struggled with in writing my own young adult fantasy stories. It's hard to make the use of magic both fun, and creative, as well as limited and specific, so it doesn't get out of hand. So in that sense, I suppose I have a certain degree of respect for J.K. Rowling, since she did write books where the use of magic "works" for most people--though not for me, I'm afraid.

New Glasses and Birds

So, having lost my glasses back in, oh, February or so, one thing I have been looking forward to doing when I finally get new ones is looking at birds. There are some interesting birds around here, and it would be nice if I could see them clearly from a distance.

But that is not the real connection between new glasses and birds. The connection is that when I went for the eye exam (20/40 far vision--which, as the optician said, means, "You're not blind, but you can't see very well"--though I still have 20/20 near vision--not sure how that works if the primary problem is astigmatism--but as I was saying), I was looking at frames and I saw my same old frames from before that I loved so much!

I loved the old frames because on the side they had this fancy schmancy little stylized bird design. It looked kind of like a quetzl or even a phoenix. It very much endeared those frames to me. But then, there were these other very similar frames, that were in a color I liked better and were a little larger, so they don't mess as much with my peripheral vision. They were the same brand and also had a little stylized bird design on the side. But the bird was very lame by comparison--it looked like a sitting seagull.

It was an agonizing decision. Do I choose the glasses I like better with the lame bird, or the glasses I like less with the awesome bird? The purpose of getting glasses is to help me see better, so the lame bird prevailed. I'll just tell myself it's really an albatross. Then it can be awesome, too.

Also: I saw a funny pesticide commercial in the waiting room. It shows black and white footage of happy children, as an ominous voice tells you that millions of children are made sick from pesticides every year. Then it tells you about their safe pesticide--and shows people spraying it all over the place--all around the house, on the sink, on a little girl's arm! "It's so safe," announces the voice, "it even says 'safe' on the label." That is some irrefutable logic. "Can your pesticide do that?" Good question. My pesticide probably is so dangerous that even if I tried to up a sticker that said "safe" on the label, it would peel off instantly. Who the heck wrote this commercial? Did they realize it was funny?