Typhoid Pill 2

So here we go again. I just remembered that I have to take my Typhoid Pill ( number 3 out of a 4 part series ). Good thing for this blog otherwise I would have forgotten. I guess this journal and the distracting swirlings of "WEB2.0" have some sort of practical purpose. I think I try to jokingly justify my time on the web (being a nerd). I have to confess that I don't have much to justify. It's hard to be a nerd. Matt can use teaching/education for his excuse. Me? I got nothing.

I'm going to wait another 1/2 hour because I ate some snacks a little while ago.

I went to the Young Adult group at my old church tonite. I think I've got a lot of thoughts on that experience, but I need to think about it for myself before I really post anything. All in all, it was a good night, to spend with some folks and to be encouraged in a church kind of way. I miss that: being encouraged through more solid teaching. In general, it's different between the experiences of church at Chinese Indy and New Hope. They have distinct cultures. They're quite different in attitudes/approaches to life. Still, I think it's good. My thought is we need more balance in our lives. I cringe at some lacks at Chinese Indy and the same with New Hope. I am grateful for the strengths of each church.

I'll talk more about this later. ( When I say that, I usually never do come back to it, so you gotta give me some comments!)

I had a good talk with my friend SuperAmes about things and we ended up talking about church a bit. I've grown up going to church and it's always been a pretty important part of my life (whether I'll admit it or not). I think there's been postive and negative effects of my experiences. After talking about churchlife, it came really clear to me that it's important to find a home. I'm not referring to a place to live and sleep and cook. That's really important, but i'm talking about a place where you're at home. A place to rest and to be at peace. It probably starts with oneself.

It's late, I'm going to bed. 3 entries this week? Holla back if you like it!

Typhoid Pill

Shoot. I almost forgot to take my anti-Typhoid pill. I have to take these 4 pills in sequence, every other day. I also can't eat 2 hours before or 2 hours after I take it. So I'm going to wait another 30 minutes because I ate a chocolate chip cookie a little while ago.

(cookie) Doh!

So you can thank my roomate Matt for keeping me up later by the power of a fresh baked cookie and resulting in this wonderful Mystery Meat Bootleg Squeegee journal entry.

Speaking of the Mystery Meat Bootleg Squeegee, I will officially announce that I'll probably end this blog soon and start a different one in conjunction with my trip to Sierra Leone. More news will come soon, but I'm pretty sure I'll end it upon ending work next Wednesday. Since I won't be working at the Screenprinting shop (hence the Squeegee reference), it makes sense for the change.

I think I've been feeling overwhelmed with life.

I talked to Albert today and I have to admit that I came away feeling a bit confused and frustrated with my sadness and anxiety. I feel like I'm more concerned about leaving this community unmet and still needy, rather than being excited about going to Africa. It's crazy! Here I am about to embark on a new adventure I've been wanting for so long and at the heels of it, my feelings are focused on the frustrations of my current life and not the excitement and promise of something new.

Gosh, what's wrong with me!

I feel like things are still unfinished and unmet here in Oakland. I wish that I felt better leaving this place. Sam Lau asked me over the break if I'd miss here (Oakland). I said: "No, not really. But I wish I did." Micah asked a similar question the other day. "Do you feel like you're being sent off by your church?" I said: "Kind of, but not really. I feel like I was sent off better when I left San Diego for Mission Year." I think life is different now at my current church. Our strength isn't internal, but more external and work/achievement focused. I was better connected when I was in college, which is hard to expect here in Oakland (not in college anymore).

I feel sad when I think about these things. I still wonder if this is the right place for me. I wonder if I should leave for another place to start anew. Somewhere where more people know me already, somewhere where I have some close guy friends that will walk with me slowly, somewhere sunnier. If I do leave, I feel like my time in Oakland was just a big failure. I wonder if I should tell the gal I like that I like her. I wonder if it'll just be weird and I'll lose a friend. That's the last thing I need, to lose a friend. I wonder about getting my house in order: learning to be responsible, learning to love those in front of me, getting some health insurance, learning to do well with the work that's placed in front of me, being disciplined in time with Jesus: in prayer and in the word.

I'm a people pleaser. Call it what you want, but I want people to like me. I want to be affirmed and loved, and I know I'm chasing after it. I've spent my time trying to find more folks for support, hanging out, scheduling hang out time, trying to harder to be more social and available. My solution to my search for community and connection has been really external. I think I've gone about this the wrong way. I'd like to try again, but spend more time in quietness with Jesus, in prayer, and in the word. Oh how far am I from God! I go to church and do the right things but still, I struggle. I've forgotten how much you love and affirm me Jesus.

I read some of Phillipians tonite. I spent time writing in my journal. I asked for a new start. A fresh start to life in Oakland, and a deeper sense of God's hand holding me, protecting me, walking with me in the most joyous moments, and in the saddest suffering.

Time to take my pill. Good night.

MLK

"We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope."
- Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Oh Dr. King, what would you say if you were still around? Would we have had our first Black President? Would our schools be desegregated? You can call it whatever you want, but they're still segregated between the rich and poor. Poor means Black and Brown with a sprinkle of Yellow. Rich means White with a stir in of Yellow. Are we that blind?

Martin, I think you'd be sad. Sad to see how your people still struggle to get by. Sad to see that some things are the same. We care enough to clear our conscience, but not enough to hold hands with those who are suffering and hurting here and abroad. Sad to find that your life to celebrated as just another day off.

Thank you Martin, and Leroy, and Kagba, Donna, Bishop and Lady Norwood, Mrs. Powell-Avila, and Mr. Walker, and Malcolm for allowing me to find hope in the lives you('ve) live(d). Thank you for teaching me about an infinite hope that overcomes any sense of disapointment. Thank you for teaching me that Joy is in the Mo(u)rning. Thank you for allowing me to share in your suffering. Thank you for teaching me about choosing for Joy inspite of any terrible circumstance. Thank you for living lives that are excellent. Thank you for your unshakable faith in God. Thank you for showing me that Black is Beautiful.

Thank you for being my friend.

Rock Paper Scissors Mama Buzz

I went to the oakland.art.murmur with some folks last night. It was fun. I ended up running into Ben Lau there. Ben Lau? Yeah, I know, I barely remembered him too. The last time I talked to him was all the way back in high school youth group. The nice thing was he actually remembered me. So Oakland's got a bunch of DIY.collective.art.startup galleries that are trying to get things going. It's funny to me that this city is trying to grow this way (to form an artistic identity) even though it's been around 154 years. It seemed like Atlanta had a similar thing going on when I was there, but Oakland's so much more dense and developed than that city.

Come on Oaktown, it's like your little brother (7 years younger) beating you at basketball! Oakland's cool, it's just tough love folks. TL.

Ben seemed to be part of the RPS collective scene, talking about some zine stuff he's done and also the classes he's taken. When I was talking to him, I felt like I was looking back in time at myself. It seems like only a year ago when I was really interested in printing.art.creative venues in Oakland. I was doing the same thing as him: trying to figure how to lean to screenprint, taking classes, etc. I'm not sure where I'm at with that creative drive at this point.

I really liked the stuff for sale at RPS, but my favorite spot was Mama Buzz. They were showing paintings by Alison Blickle. She had 10 paintings up, all were kind of eery snapshops of modern life. They were really good. AB's really skilled at portrature: her own style was really developed: a simple, smooth, cool aesthetic of everyday portraits. My favorite two portraits, the lime and the burrito ended up being on the postcard for her show. I guess I have good taste (haha).

I feel kind of weird after seeing a bunch of art that I like. I think I feel inspired and depressed at the same time. I'm really inspired when people are really creative and good at their artmaking.creativepursuits. Seeing other people's work and progress makes me want to continue to explore my own voice in art making. However, I also get kind of depressed when I see how good people are already. I saw some awesome hand made journal and clothes at RPS and AB's paintings were really really well done. I thought to myself: yikes! I suck! These are all I've had the same ideas to produce clothing / books, but I haven't really gotten around to do it. It's weird to find out that people are already producing.creating projects that I've already thought out in my head. I've got to get my act together!

This is really good though because this year's started off really well in terms of art stuff. I feel like I've begun well with seeing good things to inspire me, and also seeing stuff that challenges me to get more obsessive with my own art work. You've got to be obsessive to be any good. I think most artists would agree.

Born into Brothels

I watched Born into Brothels tonight. What a great way to start the year. I've been looking to be inspired, and to breathe some fresh air into my emotions. I've felt couped up lately. Internally and externally. I've felt like I've wanted to go somewhere, to do something, but I really haven't figured out what and with who. It's hard to explain, but I think things have really ramped up since winter soltice. I've felt the dark creep in, and I've had to try harder each day to let go of the big D's. Disappointment. Dread. Darkness.

Born into Brothels was real good. I liked the way art became the practical springboard to change for people. Art created a venue for the photographer to give, and for the children to receive. Art allowed for different people to share and converse a common language inspite of drastic differences in class, language, upbringing and life circumstance.

I think we all can agree on beautiful things. We may find different things to be beautiful, but we can come together around beautiful things. Beautiful people, beautiful art, beautiful stories.

These stories may not be happy, and often times they may be quite painful. They may be be full of struggle, but we celebrate the process together. We stand next to each other. We know the pain first hand because we choose to be there. We choose to live on the same violent street. We choose to be with all that's there. (Not just being around when people are doing well) We have evidence of beauty through the change that we see, and through the creative process that takes place. We make friends. We try hard to give as much as we can. We allow for people to make their own choices. We value each person's ability to choose for him or herself. We learn to give up. We hope for miracles. Miracles happen and we are overjoyed by them. Poverty and pain wins, and we are deeply troubled by this reality.

We talked about the movie afterwards. I think we all came away rooting for these children, and hoping that they would be able to live lives outside of the sadness around them. Matt commented about the reality of working with people who have tough life circumstances. Whether it's inner city Oakland, the red light district of Calcutta, or a broken home in the suburbs: we can all want good things for people, but sometimes the fear and poverty is too great, and sadness continues. We've all experienced this. We've seen our friends shine. We've seen our friends trapped within sadness. I think I'd dare to say that we've seen this pain within our own selves too.

And well, it's actually been real painful. I mean, what do you say to someone who's like: yeah, everybody i'm working with is failing and sometimes i feel like my work is like that. Or, yeah, I love the youth I work with but you know what? I'm troubled because most of the students I'm teaching will be lucky to graduate. Or, I've been started hanging out with my friend William. He gets beaten up everyday and he's told by everyone that he's a loser. He stutters and he smells. But I get to tutor him. His mom invites me in to their house and I'm there on a dirty carpet going over William's grammar homework. These are some of my stories.

It's clear what is successful: material wealth, graduating, winning, getting more, being first. There are parts of life where you can't win, where you can't be in front, and it ends up being unfinished. Choosing to be with the poor, and to look into one's own poverty isn't remarkable at all. Actually, it's really painful, and humbling. Where is the blessing in the pain? Where is the hope in the suffering?

If you've really felt suffering deep down with you , with others, for the past 4 years, I think you'd kind of sit there with me and nod. It's not to say that I'm a hero, but that's been my life story after college. I've touched suffering. My own. Others. My family. Other people's families. Black people. Asian people. Mexican people. Spanish speaking refugess. Cambodian refugees. Oakland Youth. Atlanta's forgotten. Poor people in the city. Rich people who've chosen to move into the city. A friend has died. People have gotten sick. Community has been disappointing.

I am beginning to understand the significance of Jesus. His life was about being close to the pain of this world. I think his significance wasn't just about his miracles and the way he changed things. I think it was also just as important that he cried, and struggled, and felt the deep pain of people who suffer here on earth. There's very little that's heroic about being close to pain, for when we get close to it, it hurts us too. We are blessed to suffer, because through it, I think we really learn to feel. We are aware of our inadequacies and our guilt. When people suffer, we don't just throw our pocket change at them. We don't offer what's leftover from our best, but we put down whatever we are doing and we try to stand by people, knowing that we have felt similar pains. We feel empty, helpless, and needy, but we don't hide under a cloak of self sufficiency. We are honest about these things and are driven to God's grace.