Writing

(Be)coming clean.

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Paradox.

I am clean, and I am coming clean, and I am becoming clean.

Clean/pure. Spiritually speaking.

I think coming clean about dirt is the most beautiful way we become clean.

Been judging someone, stop, maybe they’re a beautiful soul.

Been lying about something, tell the truth, it will bring you closer to the other person in ways that lies could never.

Easier said than done. We perceive the ugliness of our dirt to be more dirty than it is. It’s a lie we tell ourselves, that our dirt is so bad we could never expose it.

Expose it.

To live with integrity you must have honesty.

No one gets through a day without getting dirty, so what makes your dirt the worst?

Spiritually coming clean requires connection. Make the connection and let all of it go.

Coming clean with other humans is hard, but so worth it.

I’d rather be the girl who falls on her face every day and admits it than the girl who falls on her face everyday and hides. Either way you fall.

Clean.
(Be)coming clean.
I am coming clean.
Clean.

I’m impatient.
I’m a gossip.
I’m broken.
I’m uptight.
I’m a shopper.
And I’m also pure.

I’m loving, joyful, peaceful, patient, kind, good, faithful, and self controlled, and I’m not.

Just coming clean.

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Art

Us, here.

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Life, Music

five quirky, silly, somewhat dark albums from the 2000s, to put some bounce in your spring.

I was formulating this post in the car on one of my many drives back and forth from the valley to the city.  Good quality thinking, creative time in the car, that and belting out to bad singers from lofi bands.  I decided that if none of the other commuters are going to smile, I’d provide a bit of comic relief by being as dramatic as I can possibly be while I’m singing along, consider it a gift.

So, in my head I had come up with this “theory” that just like the 90s had the grunge movement, (which seemed to start from a “f-the man!” sort of attitude, then turned into a style, and then turned into a trend where it was more about looking like you didn’t care than it was about actually not caring) the 2000s had the indie rock movement that started with a few great bands making beautiful independent stuff with quirky singers, sometimes okay lyrics, and low budget music that I love listening to, but then turned into a sound, which over time became over produced.  Trying to sound indie, signed to Capitol, you know?  Then I realized this theory wasn’t based on any sort of sound evidence, and since I was born in 1990, it’s not like I can say, “you don’t understand, I was there man!” It’s a theory, based on nothing, take from it what you will…

Either way there were some great albums in the 2000s that were pretty weird. If you’re into bad singers, read on, if you’re into more polished stuff, well, give it a try but I warned you.  So here are five quirky, silly, somewhat dark (lyrically, they all seem to have these weird ironic death/major scale things going on) albums from the 2000s to put some bounce into your SPRING 2014! (If I can find a Youtube video with the whole album I’ll link that if not, just a song which will be a taste.)

1. Little Wings, Light Green Leaves

2. Danielson Famile, Ships

3. The Unicorns, Who Will Cut Our Hair When We’re Gone?

4. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

5. Swan Lake, Beast Moans

Get your inner indie kid on, and enjoy these.

(preferably on an old school iPod eh?)

(if you can’t understand what they’re singing, feel free to make up the words/sounds until you have internet access, then google!)

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Writing

A photographic journal of my past year.

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This past year has taken me from a naive (okay ignorant) soul who thought she had it all figured out at 22, to a soul who admits she will always, always be learning and that even on her death bed, she won’t have fully grasped it.

It: life, love, God

Closed to open.

A closed fist can’t give, but it also can’t receive. A closed soul can’t truly give and it can’t truly learn. It can be confidence and it can also be fear. Confident in my truth but afraid of everything, failure, debate, ideas. It’s hard to be compassionate, honest, and vulnerable when you’re closed. It’s easy to criticize out of fear, and be incredibly judgemental out of a lack of knowledge perceived as ultimate knowledge.

An open palm can take and give. I can know my hand and who it’s worshipping, but I can also be honest, vulnerable, compassionate, growing. My soul doesn’t have to be static, a set of rules, but a growing giving and taking and learning that’s never done or finished.

I’m not hoping to reach some mystical point of perfection. Perfection is a Greco-Roman ideal, but I am hoping to become more and more open.

All of the law and all of what the prophets had to say can be summed up in loving God and loving the other as much as I love myself. My God said this, and I paraphrased it. This means I should desire to be that inclusive. I can’t be inclusive with a closed fist.

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Art

Trees.

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