You probably read that title with a bemused expression.
Well, I actually made a snowflake out of a pipecleaner today. Not a real snowflake, of course - but the familiar, six-pointed shape, with little loops on the end of each point, simply by twisting three strands of white pipecleaner together. Of course, that's not all I did today...
I also made a fuzzy little ring and a shiny red flower out of pipecleaners.
Well, I also took care of chores and did a little cooking, as usual. My craving tonight was for the flavors of my childhood, so I took stock of the ingredients available and prepared some Vietnamese-style spring rolls. Granted, my finished dish was not completely authentic, but I always make do with what I have. I simply sauteed some diced mushrooms with garlic and a splash of gluten-free Tamari soy sauce, cooked rice noodles, and prepared the rice paper by swishing it around in a shallow dish of warm water. Then I laid out the noodles on the softened paper, sprinkled the mushrooms on top along with diced white onion, cucumber and sprigs of cilantro. A dash of fish sauce later, I rolled up the sticky rice paper and my rolls were ready to go. Dessert was a special rice cake from last night's Simbang Gabi festivities.
I have been practicing playing Christmas carols on the piano, since the Nativity is only days away. My sight-reading is improving, my best friend says. There are still ornaments to be hung on the Christmas tree and presents to be wrapped. But the best part for me is kneeling in the church and receiving the Baby Jesus in my heart again. I am always fascinated by the tiny Child who came to teach us to love, appearing among us in a very ordinary way. Usually, I write a verse or two each year around this time, to share with family and friends my reflections on Christmas. I think tonight is the night...
Time to sharpen my pen and dip into the inkwell of God's love and the Spirit's inspiration!
After all, life is too short to die. One must appreciate the beauty and wonder of God's everlasting love.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Caroling, Caroling
This weekend brought the most Christmas parties I have ever been to in one day. Well, it was only two... but still! And quite the parties they were, too!
I accompanied my closest friends to a couple gatherings of Opus Dei youth, alumni of their high school programs, family members, friends and numeraries. Some of my talented friends played the piano and led the singing of traditional Christmas carols, not those secular winter songs that some people associate with Christmas. One house was absolutely packed with people, and the dainty cookies laid out on trays disappeared quicker than a wink once the singing was through. The punch took the cake, though - it was guava nectar and apple juice mixed with ginger ale and had pieces of apple and lime slices floating in the bowl. Such a refreshing, sweet and tangy taste! Everyone ladled out at least two cups of punch by the end of the party.
For the second round, I toted my violin in anticipation of carols. There was even more food prepared - including some scrumptious truffles that I neglected to notice until the party was almost over. It was such a joy to see the dear familiar faces and all the young, fresh unfamiliar faces, lit with the light of excitement of Christmas just around the corner. I also enjoyed improvising harmonies and counter melodies to the pages and pages of carols that we played, one after the next, switching keys and rhythms left and right. It was standing-room-only, and I had to be careful not to poke out anybody's eye with my bow, but it was such fun to play my violin again among friends, free to improvise as I liked. "Go Tell it On the Mountain" received a bit of fiddling gospel treatment, and "What Child is This" was full of harmonic minor chords that are easy to deconstruct. Of course, switching registers between verses was a must. The gentleman and lady leading the singing were well-trained and had strong, refined voices. The 8th-grade children led the singing of a Swahili carol, "Malaika". It was almost a magical night.
I met some new people, too. Some were parents of the younger children who are involved in Opus Dei activities, and some were high school students familiar with the grand old homes which are managed by numeraries. Opus Dei being a personal prelature of the Church and not a religious order, what results is something like a giant family party, where new and old friends unite. Now, they're going to be clamoring for me to come back - and of course, I will. It's like being adopted into another big happy family, so I have no reason not to go, and every reason to begin attending their classes, reflections, Recollection days and service projects.
After all, life is too short to die, and this is the time for resolutions!
I accompanied my closest friends to a couple gatherings of Opus Dei youth, alumni of their high school programs, family members, friends and numeraries. Some of my talented friends played the piano and led the singing of traditional Christmas carols, not those secular winter songs that some people associate with Christmas. One house was absolutely packed with people, and the dainty cookies laid out on trays disappeared quicker than a wink once the singing was through. The punch took the cake, though - it was guava nectar and apple juice mixed with ginger ale and had pieces of apple and lime slices floating in the bowl. Such a refreshing, sweet and tangy taste! Everyone ladled out at least two cups of punch by the end of the party.
For the second round, I toted my violin in anticipation of carols. There was even more food prepared - including some scrumptious truffles that I neglected to notice until the party was almost over. It was such a joy to see the dear familiar faces and all the young, fresh unfamiliar faces, lit with the light of excitement of Christmas just around the corner. I also enjoyed improvising harmonies and counter melodies to the pages and pages of carols that we played, one after the next, switching keys and rhythms left and right. It was standing-room-only, and I had to be careful not to poke out anybody's eye with my bow, but it was such fun to play my violin again among friends, free to improvise as I liked. "Go Tell it On the Mountain" received a bit of fiddling gospel treatment, and "What Child is This" was full of harmonic minor chords that are easy to deconstruct. Of course, switching registers between verses was a must. The gentleman and lady leading the singing were well-trained and had strong, refined voices. The 8th-grade children led the singing of a Swahili carol, "Malaika". It was almost a magical night.
I met some new people, too. Some were parents of the younger children who are involved in Opus Dei activities, and some were high school students familiar with the grand old homes which are managed by numeraries. Opus Dei being a personal prelature of the Church and not a religious order, what results is something like a giant family party, where new and old friends unite. Now, they're going to be clamoring for me to come back - and of course, I will. It's like being adopted into another big happy family, so I have no reason not to go, and every reason to begin attending their classes, reflections, Recollection days and service projects.
After all, life is too short to die, and this is the time for resolutions!
Thursday, December 15, 2011
All that Glitters
My fingers have been at work forming, shaping and creating. I learned a neat trick for knitting cables recently and I've begun to make a scarf with variegated yarn - the striping is quite fun to watch as it unfolds (or perhaps that's not quite the word to use for knitting). Despite my best friend's return home, I was busy crafting all afternoon, with a little cooking in the mix. Pad Lao, a haphazard salad for my lunch today, and so forth.
I delved into jewelry-making again, producing a couple sets of beaded strands. I was experimenting with weaving multiple strands of elastic cord in and out of beads in both random and patterned fashions. My pearl bracelet turned out exquisite, and the red-and-green colored prototype received a little jingle, thanks to some red bells I had been saving for just the right project. A twist of red-colored copper wire became a unique wreath ring with two possible sizes, and a simple application of plain white rhinestones finished my elegant pearl earrings to satisfaction. I also found a clasp for an adapted strand of pearls from my cousin's wedding, once a necklace, that I have now fashioned into a dainty bracelet. It was my inspiration for the woven pearl bracelet and coordinating earrings.
Now that I have experimented with the technique a good deal, I can hardly wait to try new patterns and different combinations of beads and strands of cord, perhaps even ribbon. Besides, my latest creations will make perfect Christmas presents for someone.
Then I have to send off a Christmas card to some cousins in Sweden, and continue with the general merrymaking that comes at this time of year. After all, life is simply too short to die.
I delved into jewelry-making again, producing a couple sets of beaded strands. I was experimenting with weaving multiple strands of elastic cord in and out of beads in both random and patterned fashions. My pearl bracelet turned out exquisite, and the red-and-green colored prototype received a little jingle, thanks to some red bells I had been saving for just the right project. A twist of red-colored copper wire became a unique wreath ring with two possible sizes, and a simple application of plain white rhinestones finished my elegant pearl earrings to satisfaction. I also found a clasp for an adapted strand of pearls from my cousin's wedding, once a necklace, that I have now fashioned into a dainty bracelet. It was my inspiration for the woven pearl bracelet and coordinating earrings.
Now that I have experimented with the technique a good deal, I can hardly wait to try new patterns and different combinations of beads and strands of cord, perhaps even ribbon. Besides, my latest creations will make perfect Christmas presents for someone.
Then I have to send off a Christmas card to some cousins in Sweden, and continue with the general merrymaking that comes at this time of year. After all, life is simply too short to die.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Been so busy...
That's right. Life is good. I must be on a roll or something. I cooked a yummy pot of Vietnamese soup a couple nights ago for my host family, and they really enjoyed it. I finally have a bottle of fish sauce in the refrigerator, and (they shouldn't have) a bottle of gluten-free soy sauce! Now, who would have thought that soy sauce contains wheat? but it's right there on the label. For shame. First MSG, then wheat?
Anyways - I rejoice! Now I can eat fish sauce on my rice just like I did growing up. For all those of you who don't know, fish sauce is basically anchovy extract, salt, sugar and water. A salty, to-be-used-sparingly kind of condiment, but an absolute staple of my childhood. The crowning glory triumphed when my host's Filipino-Japanese friend came to sleep over, smelled the pho cooking from the door and recognized the aroma!
We've eaten it for breakfast, lunch and dinner... and I only cooked half a package of the rice stick noodles! This reminds me of Strega Nona, one of Tommy Di Paola's characters. She told Tommy to watch the pot and stir the noodles, but it was a magic pot and things didn't exactly go as planned... the noodles ended up multiplying and filling the house!
That's not all, either. Yesterday, I visited the most curious, intriguing place. It was the Museum of Jurassic Technology in the Los Angeles area. I felt almost as if I had entered another world, steeped by degrees in wonder, mystery and the utterly bizarre. There were so many doorways leading to other doorways, a person could easily become lost in the maze of small, dimly lit rooms - or hypnotized by the rustling and chiming of the bell wheel. From a human horn to the Cone of Obliscence, from rotting dice to labyrinth wooden chairs at a console that teaches you to make string figures like Cat's Cradle; from vectographs of flowers to Napoleonic artifacts, the place was jam-packed with every imaginable oddity. Part science museum, part sideshow of the more unusual "natural" occurrences and cultural notables, the MJT was certainly an experience. The occasion of my being there was a Yuletide Celebration, complete with an appropriately exotic spread of food and drink. I spent minutes examining the fare of dried fruits, nuts, cheeses, pastries and delicacies - including figs, dates stuffed with walnuts, camembert cheese, hummus and crostini, Greek olives and pierogies. Candles were lit in every room, and there were coals burning on the rooftop adjacent to Arabic-style fountains and birdcages with plump little finches roosting in them. On my way out, I snagged a Russian chocolate as a souvenir.
I had a pretty busy weekend, what with the festivities for Our Lady of Guadalupe, whose feast is today. My parish had a procession from the City Hall to the church on Sunday morning, followed by a Spanish Mass and plenty of food. There were "tacos Católicos", tamales, pozole, champurrado, nachos and other traditional foods, in addition to some Filipino foods provided by the Mary's Voice choir. This morning I was able to rise early and get to church for the tradition of Las Mañanitas, saluting the Virgin Mary on her feast day, the anniversary of her apparition to St. Juan Diego at the hill of Tepeyac in Mexico in 1531. Mass begins at 5 a.m., followed by traditional songs, and of course, champurrado with pan dulce (sweet breads). It's one of my favorite traditions of this time of year. Of course, when I got home I crashed. I guess my busy weekend left me exhausted.
But that's a good thing, because life is too short to die, and sleep is a good part of living. Cheers!
Anyways - I rejoice! Now I can eat fish sauce on my rice just like I did growing up. For all those of you who don't know, fish sauce is basically anchovy extract, salt, sugar and water. A salty, to-be-used-sparingly kind of condiment, but an absolute staple of my childhood. The crowning glory triumphed when my host's Filipino-Japanese friend came to sleep over, smelled the pho cooking from the door and recognized the aroma!
We've eaten it for breakfast, lunch and dinner... and I only cooked half a package of the rice stick noodles! This reminds me of Strega Nona, one of Tommy Di Paola's characters. She told Tommy to watch the pot and stir the noodles, but it was a magic pot and things didn't exactly go as planned... the noodles ended up multiplying and filling the house!
That's not all, either. Yesterday, I visited the most curious, intriguing place. It was the Museum of Jurassic Technology in the Los Angeles area. I felt almost as if I had entered another world, steeped by degrees in wonder, mystery and the utterly bizarre. There were so many doorways leading to other doorways, a person could easily become lost in the maze of small, dimly lit rooms - or hypnotized by the rustling and chiming of the bell wheel. From a human horn to the Cone of Obliscence, from rotting dice to labyrinth wooden chairs at a console that teaches you to make string figures like Cat's Cradle; from vectographs of flowers to Napoleonic artifacts, the place was jam-packed with every imaginable oddity. Part science museum, part sideshow of the more unusual "natural" occurrences and cultural notables, the MJT was certainly an experience. The occasion of my being there was a Yuletide Celebration, complete with an appropriately exotic spread of food and drink. I spent minutes examining the fare of dried fruits, nuts, cheeses, pastries and delicacies - including figs, dates stuffed with walnuts, camembert cheese, hummus and crostini, Greek olives and pierogies. Candles were lit in every room, and there were coals burning on the rooftop adjacent to Arabic-style fountains and birdcages with plump little finches roosting in them. On my way out, I snagged a Russian chocolate as a souvenir.
I had a pretty busy weekend, what with the festivities for Our Lady of Guadalupe, whose feast is today. My parish had a procession from the City Hall to the church on Sunday morning, followed by a Spanish Mass and plenty of food. There were "tacos Católicos", tamales, pozole, champurrado, nachos and other traditional foods, in addition to some Filipino foods provided by the Mary's Voice choir. This morning I was able to rise early and get to church for the tradition of Las Mañanitas, saluting the Virgin Mary on her feast day, the anniversary of her apparition to St. Juan Diego at the hill of Tepeyac in Mexico in 1531. Mass begins at 5 a.m., followed by traditional songs, and of course, champurrado with pan dulce (sweet breads). It's one of my favorite traditions of this time of year. Of course, when I got home I crashed. I guess my busy weekend left me exhausted.
But that's a good thing, because life is too short to die, and sleep is a good part of living. Cheers!
Thursday, December 8, 2011
A daring endeavor
Finally, since last Christmas' gingerbread, I was able to use up a bottle of dark corn syrup. Molasses might have been too strong, and I was substituting quite a few ingredients anyway, so it worked perfectly. Can you guess?
I baked a pecan pie in honor of my dear friend's birthday, which is actually Saturday. Why not do the baking early? I figured it was worth the work ahead of time, and besides, it will last beyond Saturday anyway.
My recipe called for butter and shortening in equal portions for the crust, along with my special gluten-free flour blend and a few tablespoons of ice-cold water. I spread out the dough between a couple sheets of waxed paper and rounded it out to form my crust, laying it into a 9-inch pan. I set that aside and began to mix my filling ingredients: dark corn syrup, a cup of sugar (I substituted Splenda for the diabetics in the house), some melted butter, and three eggs. Oh wait - I forgot the most important ingredient: pecans! The recipe also called for vanilla extract (Shhh. Don't tell, I forgot to put it in)... but nobody would really miss it.
I set my pie to bake in the oven at 350 deg Fahrenheit and skipped off to play the piano and do some chores. When I returned, it was bubbling and the crust was crisping up nicely, so I removed the pie from the oven and set it on the counter to cool. That pie is so rich (we dug into it tonight because she just couldn't wait)!
After all, life is too short to die. And too short not to make pecan pie, I say.
Huzzah for pie!
I baked a pecan pie in honor of my dear friend's birthday, which is actually Saturday. Why not do the baking early? I figured it was worth the work ahead of time, and besides, it will last beyond Saturday anyway.
My recipe called for butter and shortening in equal portions for the crust, along with my special gluten-free flour blend and a few tablespoons of ice-cold water. I spread out the dough between a couple sheets of waxed paper and rounded it out to form my crust, laying it into a 9-inch pan. I set that aside and began to mix my filling ingredients: dark corn syrup, a cup of sugar (I substituted Splenda for the diabetics in the house), some melted butter, and three eggs. Oh wait - I forgot the most important ingredient: pecans! The recipe also called for vanilla extract (Shhh. Don't tell, I forgot to put it in)... but nobody would really miss it.
I set my pie to bake in the oven at 350 deg Fahrenheit and skipped off to play the piano and do some chores. When I returned, it was bubbling and the crust was crisping up nicely, so I removed the pie from the oven and set it on the counter to cool. That pie is so rich (we dug into it tonight because she just couldn't wait)!
After all, life is too short to die. And too short not to make pecan pie, I say.
Huzzah for pie!
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
A taste of Italy... and then some!
Armed with my new gluten-free flour, I decided to attempt a pizza! The dough was simple enough to make, with some added Italian herbs from my stash. I looked around for toppings while the crust was resting before baking, and I came up with something pretty interesting...
Pepperoni (of course), the usual red sauce, Monterey Jack cheese (I cheated and substituted this for mozzarella), shredded Parmesan cheese, fresh white onions, etc. and this is where it got even more interesting: colossal Spanish Queen olives stuffed with pimientos, marinated artichoke hearts, and a drizzle of ranch dressing. I arranged these on my baked crust so that about 3/8 of it was mostly pepperoni, cheese and onions, and that the remainder of the pizza was dotted with my green ingredients (olives and artichoke hearts). I sprinkled cilantro and more onions over the whole thing before popping it into the oven to bake.
The most delicious smells came wafting up as the ingredients blended their flavors together. And finally, when my little pizza was done, it looked too good to eat! So I let it cool a bit on the counter and cut it with a roller when it was time for dinner, but not before snapping a picture. The crust came out delightfully moist and chewy, but not too dense. It was easy to cut and pleasant to eat, owing to the fact that it had substance, as well as to the wonderful flavor combination.
Next up... well, I can't decide! Perhaps I'll try my hand at pecan pie. The molasses in the cupboard is beckoning me, as well as that lovely bag of shelled pecans...
After all, life is too short to die. Gotta live a little!
Pepperoni (of course), the usual red sauce, Monterey Jack cheese (I cheated and substituted this for mozzarella), shredded Parmesan cheese, fresh white onions, etc. and this is where it got even more interesting: colossal Spanish Queen olives stuffed with pimientos, marinated artichoke hearts, and a drizzle of ranch dressing. I arranged these on my baked crust so that about 3/8 of it was mostly pepperoni, cheese and onions, and that the remainder of the pizza was dotted with my green ingredients (olives and artichoke hearts). I sprinkled cilantro and more onions over the whole thing before popping it into the oven to bake.
The most delicious smells came wafting up as the ingredients blended their flavors together. And finally, when my little pizza was done, it looked too good to eat! So I let it cool a bit on the counter and cut it with a roller when it was time for dinner, but not before snapping a picture. The crust came out delightfully moist and chewy, but not too dense. It was easy to cut and pleasant to eat, owing to the fact that it had substance, as well as to the wonderful flavor combination.
Next up... well, I can't decide! Perhaps I'll try my hand at pecan pie. The molasses in the cupboard is beckoning me, as well as that lovely bag of shelled pecans...
After all, life is too short to die. Gotta live a little!
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Baking and bread-making
Well, it's that time of year again... the last few weeks of school are quickly closing in, and the weather is getting colder by the day, with the occasional California twist of heat and Santa Ana wind conditions.
For me, with my new gluten-free diet, the traditions of baking for Christmas and parties make me yearn for bread! But now I must find an alternate way to make those delicious cookies.
Enter xanthan gum and garbanzo bean flour. No joke; once you take the gluten out of flour, it becomes crumbly and doesn't hold together at all. Trust me. Xanthan gum is a great substitute for the emulsification agent, and a little goes a long, long way. So, I've started using a garbanzo-bean-based flour mix that includes sorghum, tapioca, rice, and fava bean flour - otherwise known as Bob's Red Mill All-Purpose Gluten-Free Flour. That's a mouthful. Literally.
A handy-dandy bread-maker does all the mixing, kneading and baking for me. All I have to do is pour in the ingredients one by one. I'm going to have fun with this. I can stop it after the kneading and rising stage, and take the dough out to shape it into cookies, rolls, and what-have-you. What I really want to try is my grandmother's recipe for anise biscotti. That's all I'm telling you - it's a family secret in my opinion. And as everyone knows, you bake biscotti twice - first a flat loaf, then cut it into strips and bake again. Hmmm, maybe I'll even attempt gingerbread.
Otherwise, I've gone so far as to daydream of mixing tapioca flour with rice flour and making shrimp dumplings. Perhaps breading tofu cubes with my gluten-free batter and rolling them in gluten-free breadcrumbs. I'm going to have fun with this... (yes, I know I already said that, but it's worth repeating!)
After all, life is too short to die.
P.S. And Christmas is too wonderful not to make cookies!
For me, with my new gluten-free diet, the traditions of baking for Christmas and parties make me yearn for bread! But now I must find an alternate way to make those delicious cookies.
Enter xanthan gum and garbanzo bean flour. No joke; once you take the gluten out of flour, it becomes crumbly and doesn't hold together at all. Trust me. Xanthan gum is a great substitute for the emulsification agent, and a little goes a long, long way. So, I've started using a garbanzo-bean-based flour mix that includes sorghum, tapioca, rice, and fava bean flour - otherwise known as Bob's Red Mill All-Purpose Gluten-Free Flour. That's a mouthful. Literally.
A handy-dandy bread-maker does all the mixing, kneading and baking for me. All I have to do is pour in the ingredients one by one. I'm going to have fun with this. I can stop it after the kneading and rising stage, and take the dough out to shape it into cookies, rolls, and what-have-you. What I really want to try is my grandmother's recipe for anise biscotti. That's all I'm telling you - it's a family secret in my opinion. And as everyone knows, you bake biscotti twice - first a flat loaf, then cut it into strips and bake again. Hmmm, maybe I'll even attempt gingerbread.
Otherwise, I've gone so far as to daydream of mixing tapioca flour with rice flour and making shrimp dumplings. Perhaps breading tofu cubes with my gluten-free batter and rolling them in gluten-free breadcrumbs. I'm going to have fun with this... (yes, I know I already said that, but it's worth repeating!)
After all, life is too short to die.
P.S. And Christmas is too wonderful not to make cookies!
Friday, November 25, 2011
Where's the Turkey?
It actually happened. I ate two family meals on Thanksgiving Day, neither of which contained the merest hint of Turkey. How is this possible, you ask? Isn't turkey a huge tradition? Well, I guess some people don't stand by tradition much, except of course for the "thanksgiving" part. I was just thankful there was plenty of food to eat. Besides, I was getting sleepy just with the rest of the food, so adding turkey in the mix would have me falling asleep at the table!
For the first meal, my hosts outdid themselves (albeit sans turkey): a delicious baked ham, pork roast, brussels sprouts, sweet potatoes topped with creamy marshmallows, broccoli with Bearnaise sauce, the traditional mashed potatoes and gravy, a gorgeous Harvest salad containing spinach leaves, Gorgonzola cheese, whole blackberries, dried cranberries, candied walnut pieces, and poppyseed dressing; a gigantic pumpkin pie for dessert (sadly, I had to leave the crust behind), and stuffing (which I didn't touch). A gluten-free Thanksgiving wasn't so bad after all! I did have to forego the bread bowl of spinach dip which was the appetizer, but that's a small sacrifice compared with the other fare!
My second meal consisted of barbecued chicken, carne asada, tortillas, frijoles negros (black beans), apple and persimmon slices, and homemade applesauce (again, I stayed away from the cake). Again, a gluten-free success. But it's not all about the food.
On Thanksgiving Day, I began by - what else? - giving thanks to God for all my blessings at Holy Mass. At dinner with the family, we each took turns telling about the things and people for which we are grateful, placing cloves in a small bowl as we did so. Almost everyone mentioned family, friends, shelter and life. I felt tears forming in my own eyes as I gave thanks, the last one to place my clove in the bowl.
It's an interesting reflection that the fragrance of gratitude is a sweet and pleasant one. It certainly is an attractive quality in any person. So, just as I do every year, I resolve to be continually grateful and endeavor to express my thanks more often to those who deserve them. There is, after all, more joy in giving than receiving, and life is too short to die.
For the first meal, my hosts outdid themselves (albeit sans turkey): a delicious baked ham, pork roast, brussels sprouts, sweet potatoes topped with creamy marshmallows, broccoli with Bearnaise sauce, the traditional mashed potatoes and gravy, a gorgeous Harvest salad containing spinach leaves, Gorgonzola cheese, whole blackberries, dried cranberries, candied walnut pieces, and poppyseed dressing; a gigantic pumpkin pie for dessert (sadly, I had to leave the crust behind), and stuffing (which I didn't touch). A gluten-free Thanksgiving wasn't so bad after all! I did have to forego the bread bowl of spinach dip which was the appetizer, but that's a small sacrifice compared with the other fare!
My second meal consisted of barbecued chicken, carne asada, tortillas, frijoles negros (black beans), apple and persimmon slices, and homemade applesauce (again, I stayed away from the cake). Again, a gluten-free success. But it's not all about the food.
On Thanksgiving Day, I began by - what else? - giving thanks to God for all my blessings at Holy Mass. At dinner with the family, we each took turns telling about the things and people for which we are grateful, placing cloves in a small bowl as we did so. Almost everyone mentioned family, friends, shelter and life. I felt tears forming in my own eyes as I gave thanks, the last one to place my clove in the bowl.
It's an interesting reflection that the fragrance of gratitude is a sweet and pleasant one. It certainly is an attractive quality in any person. So, just as I do every year, I resolve to be continually grateful and endeavor to express my thanks more often to those who deserve them. There is, after all, more joy in giving than receiving, and life is too short to die.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
What a Storm!
What wet weather we've been having! Every few days or so, it rains. Could it be that California is experiencing a real autumn? Preposterous! - or so you might think. I, for one, am glad to have some real weather.
Sunday's rainstorm reminded me of an old engraving in a children's book of fairy tales by Hans Christian Andersen, the famed Dutch storyteller. The illustration comes from a story titled "The Traveling Companion", and chronicles the adventures of a young man named John who sets out to explore the world after the death of his father. The tale is not well known, but it is one of my favorites. After all, John meets a mysterious stranger who takes him on a journey full of enchantment, oddities and true love, and then vanishes, having repaid his debt. The particular image I am thinking of shows the princess in an ermine-edged cloak, flying through the dark stormy sky with a pair of black dragon-like wings and saying to herself, "How it hails, to be sure!" with the stranger behind her holding a fern rod. I bet that image has piqued your curiosity. Oh, and there's also a grotesque ball at which snakes, rats, owls and cabbage-headed ministers dance about in the mountain... just in case you were wondering.
Rainy days make for plenty of reading, but they also provide a great opportunity to sit back with a warm cup of tea. Not being a coffee-drinker, of course, I enjoy sipping a hot cup of green tea or another herbal tea, minus the caffeine. I am by no means a connoisseur, but I would love to learn more about the thousands of varieties, particularly loose-leaf tea and blooming tea. To this end, I took a little trip to Teavana and looked around. So many combinations of delicious ingredients are infused in their tea blends! One that caught my eye was the Chai-Chai blend. When trying my first cup of Chai tea, I was intrigued by the spice combination and warm aroma. Since then, I've tried a Vanilla Chai, green tea Chai, Chai with rooibos and White Chai. However, I've never tried two different kinds of Chai blended together, as this tea is a combo of White Ayurvedic Chai and Teavana's Samurai Chai Mate. The reviews all look good, and the only con appears to be the price tag.
An acquaintance just invited me out for a "tea excursion" - maybe I'll suggest we experience Teavana...
After all, life is too short to die.
Now, back to Thanksgiving preparations and the test kitchen...
Sunday's rainstorm reminded me of an old engraving in a children's book of fairy tales by Hans Christian Andersen, the famed Dutch storyteller. The illustration comes from a story titled "The Traveling Companion", and chronicles the adventures of a young man named John who sets out to explore the world after the death of his father. The tale is not well known, but it is one of my favorites. After all, John meets a mysterious stranger who takes him on a journey full of enchantment, oddities and true love, and then vanishes, having repaid his debt. The particular image I am thinking of shows the princess in an ermine-edged cloak, flying through the dark stormy sky with a pair of black dragon-like wings and saying to herself, "How it hails, to be sure!" with the stranger behind her holding a fern rod. I bet that image has piqued your curiosity. Oh, and there's also a grotesque ball at which snakes, rats, owls and cabbage-headed ministers dance about in the mountain... just in case you were wondering.
Rainy days make for plenty of reading, but they also provide a great opportunity to sit back with a warm cup of tea. Not being a coffee-drinker, of course, I enjoy sipping a hot cup of green tea or another herbal tea, minus the caffeine. I am by no means a connoisseur, but I would love to learn more about the thousands of varieties, particularly loose-leaf tea and blooming tea. To this end, I took a little trip to Teavana and looked around. So many combinations of delicious ingredients are infused in their tea blends! One that caught my eye was the Chai-Chai blend. When trying my first cup of Chai tea, I was intrigued by the spice combination and warm aroma. Since then, I've tried a Vanilla Chai, green tea Chai, Chai with rooibos and White Chai. However, I've never tried two different kinds of Chai blended together, as this tea is a combo of White Ayurvedic Chai and Teavana's Samurai Chai Mate. The reviews all look good, and the only con appears to be the price tag.
An acquaintance just invited me out for a "tea excursion" - maybe I'll suggest we experience Teavana...
After all, life is too short to die.
Now, back to Thanksgiving preparations and the test kitchen...
Saturday, November 19, 2011
A Sandy Morning Walk
Well, well, well...
You'll never guess what I found this morning during a beach clean-up service project. Yes, I did pick up some lovely seashell specimens including a perfectly intact scallop shell (!) and a peachy-colored sea snail shell which is just too cute. But the real prize of the day was a large mussel, sealed tight, lying on the sandy shore with three baby mussels clinging to its "beard". For all those who don't know, mussels are delicious with red sauce - not that I'm going to eat this one. He wandered too far from the sea and I'm wary of pollution in these waters... but that doesn't mean it won't make a fun science exploration!
Okay, okay. I owe you an explanation, right? I was out doing a service project with friends from a local chapter of the Catholic Newman club. We were joining a wider effort at reducing waste on the beaches by picking up trash and recyclables and sorting them accordingly. However, my eye picked out the most beautiful seashells just as easily as it found the stray pieces of colored plastic and weathered styrofoam. It was inevitable - I mean, just how often to I get down to the ocean? Make no mistake, I did my part in cleaning up the beach, and I enjoyed every second of it.
After our hard work, we Newmanites were rewarded with CLIF bars, reusable tote bags, and an envelope stuffed with coupons to local businesses. Not bad for a morning's work, eh? So we headed to Finbar's, a local Italian restaurant that took its name from a parish in Brooklyn populated thickly with Italians. That begs the question, who is St. Finbar???
I run a quick search on Catholic Online, only to find out that, as suspected, Finbar is an Irish saint, who hails from Connaught and was educated at Kilkenny in a monastery where he earned his name, meaning "light-haired". St. Finbar is the patron of Cork since he founded the monastery that grew into that city, after being ordained bishop. The only Italian connection of his that I can see is in relation to his two legendary visits to Rome. There you have it, the mystery of Finbar's solved. But I digress...
The establishment of Finbar's was homey and classy all at the same time. The food was delicious and the service down-to-earth: I met the manager personally and shook his hand, since we were the first customers of the day. Will I be back? Maybe when I have a little more jingle in my pockets - that's not to say the menu is overpriced, however. It is perfectly reasonable for the quality of food served.
Well, my day wasn't over yet. Next, I visited the cemetery with my mother and little brother. We went to tend the gravestone of my paternal grandmother, bringing fresh-cut homegrown pink and yellow roses. It had been a long time since I had visited that particular cemetery on a Saturday, and the green expanse was accented by colorful flowers and various family members paying their respects. To use an odd expression, it was like seeing the cemetery come to life, as people shared their memories of the deceased and laid flowers over their graves. Kneeling beside my grandmother's headstone and praying for her soul, I felt all the memories come rushing back. I was only six when she died, but I do have fond memories of her that I can pass on to my little brother, who never knew any of his grandparents. It was windy in the cemetery though the sun was shining, and we all shivered a bit in the cold, sending us scrambling for jackets and scarves.
After that excursion, I had a productive group meeting for a school assignment at a coffeeshop, then finally returned home to inhale some of my delicious seafood soup from yesterday + a little Panda Express chicken, courtesy of my benefactor. I practiced a few sweet, meditative songs on the piano and retired upstairs to be tackled with a sudden urge to do a little wedding research. All in all, a very full day. But I think I'll sleep better tonight, don't you? After all, life is too short to die.
You'll never guess what I found this morning during a beach clean-up service project. Yes, I did pick up some lovely seashell specimens including a perfectly intact scallop shell (!) and a peachy-colored sea snail shell which is just too cute. But the real prize of the day was a large mussel, sealed tight, lying on the sandy shore with three baby mussels clinging to its "beard". For all those who don't know, mussels are delicious with red sauce - not that I'm going to eat this one. He wandered too far from the sea and I'm wary of pollution in these waters... but that doesn't mean it won't make a fun science exploration!
Okay, okay. I owe you an explanation, right? I was out doing a service project with friends from a local chapter of the Catholic Newman club. We were joining a wider effort at reducing waste on the beaches by picking up trash and recyclables and sorting them accordingly. However, my eye picked out the most beautiful seashells just as easily as it found the stray pieces of colored plastic and weathered styrofoam. It was inevitable - I mean, just how often to I get down to the ocean? Make no mistake, I did my part in cleaning up the beach, and I enjoyed every second of it.
After our hard work, we Newmanites were rewarded with CLIF bars, reusable tote bags, and an envelope stuffed with coupons to local businesses. Not bad for a morning's work, eh? So we headed to Finbar's, a local Italian restaurant that took its name from a parish in Brooklyn populated thickly with Italians. That begs the question, who is St. Finbar???
I run a quick search on Catholic Online, only to find out that, as suspected, Finbar is an Irish saint, who hails from Connaught and was educated at Kilkenny in a monastery where he earned his name, meaning "light-haired". St. Finbar is the patron of Cork since he founded the monastery that grew into that city, after being ordained bishop. The only Italian connection of his that I can see is in relation to his two legendary visits to Rome. There you have it, the mystery of Finbar's solved. But I digress...
The establishment of Finbar's was homey and classy all at the same time. The food was delicious and the service down-to-earth: I met the manager personally and shook his hand, since we were the first customers of the day. Will I be back? Maybe when I have a little more jingle in my pockets - that's not to say the menu is overpriced, however. It is perfectly reasonable for the quality of food served.
Well, my day wasn't over yet. Next, I visited the cemetery with my mother and little brother. We went to tend the gravestone of my paternal grandmother, bringing fresh-cut homegrown pink and yellow roses. It had been a long time since I had visited that particular cemetery on a Saturday, and the green expanse was accented by colorful flowers and various family members paying their respects. To use an odd expression, it was like seeing the cemetery come to life, as people shared their memories of the deceased and laid flowers over their graves. Kneeling beside my grandmother's headstone and praying for her soul, I felt all the memories come rushing back. I was only six when she died, but I do have fond memories of her that I can pass on to my little brother, who never knew any of his grandparents. It was windy in the cemetery though the sun was shining, and we all shivered a bit in the cold, sending us scrambling for jackets and scarves.
After that excursion, I had a productive group meeting for a school assignment at a coffeeshop, then finally returned home to inhale some of my delicious seafood soup from yesterday + a little Panda Express chicken, courtesy of my benefactor. I practiced a few sweet, meditative songs on the piano and retired upstairs to be tackled with a sudden urge to do a little wedding research. All in all, a very full day. But I think I'll sleep better tonight, don't you? After all, life is too short to die.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Strange Seafood Soup
Yes, that's right. I was cooking again... I laid out my ingredients on the counter and started putting things together. First, I fried tofu with chopped garlic and onions, seasoning the cubes with turmeric and basil (some of my absolute favorite ingredients). Then I sliced red cabbage and scallions, setting the latter aside. I put a pot of water on the stove and started my broth with a shrimp base and bay leaf to deepen the flavor.
I found some rice noodles on the top shelf and brought those down, dumping the red cabbage into the pot of boiling water along with some frozen japchae fish rounds. If you've never had japchae, you are seriously missing out. When the cabbage was almost finished cooking, I added the fried tofu and noodles. A delicious smell wafted up from the pot with all those yummy ingredients inside. A little stirring and a couple more minutes later, my soup was ready!
I ladled my soup into a wide-mouthed bowl and laid little squares of dried seaweed at the center, sprinkling the green scallions over the whole bowl. It certainly looked appetizing! I prepared a cup of green tea to go with my meal, and in seconds I was slurping down noodles with the aid of my chopsticks and a porcelain spoon.
Ahhhhh.... cooking is such a delight. For all those people out there who don't cook, you don't know what you're missing. Preparing food and letting all the flavors meet in a dish is an experience everyone should have. After all, life is simply too short to die, and we all have to eat to live! Buon appetito!
I found some rice noodles on the top shelf and brought those down, dumping the red cabbage into the pot of boiling water along with some frozen japchae fish rounds. If you've never had japchae, you are seriously missing out. When the cabbage was almost finished cooking, I added the fried tofu and noodles. A delicious smell wafted up from the pot with all those yummy ingredients inside. A little stirring and a couple more minutes later, my soup was ready!
I ladled my soup into a wide-mouthed bowl and laid little squares of dried seaweed at the center, sprinkling the green scallions over the whole bowl. It certainly looked appetizing! I prepared a cup of green tea to go with my meal, and in seconds I was slurping down noodles with the aid of my chopsticks and a porcelain spoon.
Ahhhhh.... cooking is such a delight. For all those people out there who don't cook, you don't know what you're missing. Preparing food and letting all the flavors meet in a dish is an experience everyone should have. After all, life is simply too short to die, and we all have to eat to live! Buon appetito!
Party time! well, in a way...
The Gala event for PICTURE Art Foundation's latest exhibit was a resounding success!
I enjoyed the food, the company and the art. There was a pleasant, appreciative atmosphere to the evening, despite the chilly wind outside. Visitors and artists milled about in the various gallery spaces, gazing at canvas after canvas and perhaps making some comments here and there, reading the placards placed next to each work.
At 6:15, the President of the University made a speech celebrating the achievements of the foundation, followed by the president of the Foundation, who announced the essay contest winners and had them recognized by all present. The president of the Foundation then recognized the artists whose work hung on the walls, inviting the crowd to applaud their achievement as well.
The highlight of the exhibit was a collection of paintings by You Khin, a Cambodian artist who passed away last year. His widow You Muoy was present to say a few words of gratitude and express her emotions on this monumental event, the U.S. premiere of his work. I had the honor of meeting Ms. You later in the evening and thanking her in turn for sharing her late husband's work.
The rest of the exhibit consisted of artwork from around the world, some 110 pieces selected by the PICTURE Art Foundation which display themes related to the concept of "I Have the Right" - with four subcategories: to be free, to express myself, to dream and to love. One of my favorite artists from this exhibition as well as the previous, "On Being Human: Love, Faith, Shame and Hope", is Ilya Sachar, who uses sand painting and pebble mosaics of colorful stones to bring scenes to life. Ho Thanh Duc's work was displayed as well, in particular a large canvas painted with myriads of upturned faces in suffering. Another interesting piece to me was a piece of calligraphy by another Vietnamese artist expressing his longing for his motherland - the word "Viet" forms the abstract shape of Vietnam in red, over a golden sun.
The founder of PICTURE Art Foundation is Dr. Thai Q. Ha, also Vietnamese. I believe it is his aesthetic to place elegant orchid plants throughout the gallery, a welcoming sign of life in a gallery full of painted canvases and stone sculptures. It certainly works! Whenever I have spare time on campus I tend to wander over to PICTURE for a chat with James, the director, and for a chance to enjoy the high-quality artwork that is continually displayed. After all, life is too short to die.
I enjoyed the food, the company and the art. There was a pleasant, appreciative atmosphere to the evening, despite the chilly wind outside. Visitors and artists milled about in the various gallery spaces, gazing at canvas after canvas and perhaps making some comments here and there, reading the placards placed next to each work.
At 6:15, the President of the University made a speech celebrating the achievements of the foundation, followed by the president of the Foundation, who announced the essay contest winners and had them recognized by all present. The president of the Foundation then recognized the artists whose work hung on the walls, inviting the crowd to applaud their achievement as well.
The highlight of the exhibit was a collection of paintings by You Khin, a Cambodian artist who passed away last year. His widow You Muoy was present to say a few words of gratitude and express her emotions on this monumental event, the U.S. premiere of his work. I had the honor of meeting Ms. You later in the evening and thanking her in turn for sharing her late husband's work.
The rest of the exhibit consisted of artwork from around the world, some 110 pieces selected by the PICTURE Art Foundation which display themes related to the concept of "I Have the Right" - with four subcategories: to be free, to express myself, to dream and to love. One of my favorite artists from this exhibition as well as the previous, "On Being Human: Love, Faith, Shame and Hope", is Ilya Sachar, who uses sand painting and pebble mosaics of colorful stones to bring scenes to life. Ho Thanh Duc's work was displayed as well, in particular a large canvas painted with myriads of upturned faces in suffering. Another interesting piece to me was a piece of calligraphy by another Vietnamese artist expressing his longing for his motherland - the word "Viet" forms the abstract shape of Vietnam in red, over a golden sun.
The founder of PICTURE Art Foundation is Dr. Thai Q. Ha, also Vietnamese. I believe it is his aesthetic to place elegant orchid plants throughout the gallery, a welcoming sign of life in a gallery full of painted canvases and stone sculptures. It certainly works! Whenever I have spare time on campus I tend to wander over to PICTURE for a chat with James, the director, and for a chance to enjoy the high-quality artwork that is continually displayed. After all, life is too short to die.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Learning how to eat again
Corn, it's sure been a while. I hope you folks have all been well.
The middle of November brings plenty of schoolwork, so I haven't been writing as often as I should. My latest adventures have involved coming up with food to eat. No kidding - I'm trying a gluten-free diet to see if I might have gluten intolerance, since I don't have celiac disease. Moreover, I'm reducing/avoiding refined sugars and carbohydrates in my diet. This double requirement complicates things; basically I can't eat any bread: since my carbohydrates are reduced to whole grains, fruits and vegetables, I can't eat wheat, barley or rye anyway.
What does that leave? Quinoa, brown or wild rice, corn, potatoes, nopaltillas (tortillas made from nopales - cactus), all kinds of fun vegetables and fruits including squash, bell peppers, mushrooms of all edible sorts, onions and garlic (which contain helpful prebiotic fiber), plenty of beans and legumes to get my complete proteins, green leafy vegetables such as spinach, those lovely tomatoes, etc, etc. At this point, I'm still eating meat and dairy products to help balance things out, and my dinner plates have gotten much more colorful.
Soup is definitely my friend. There are so many varieties of soup which fit neatly into my dietary requirements. And usually, it's not too difficult to make. Mmmm, mashed potatoes. I'm generally an experimental cook anyways, but this challenge pushes the bounds of my comfort zone sometimes. Sometimes I end up making something that is merely a mixture of foods, a result of me going to the cupboards and pointing at random ingredients in succession, then hauling them out and preparing them together. Fried rice is an excellent example of that. I once ate a bowl of peas with potstickers made from soy protein. I guess pea soup is next on the list. Lentil soup is also one of my favorites, and (you didn't hear it from me) quite delicious with a splash of Ranch dressing. I ought to watch my fish and shellfish intake, of course - but those are fairly easy to cook and delicious to eat! I have also been making mixes of nuts and dried fruits for snacking, nothing fancy. Which reminds me, I want to try making root fruits in a roasting pan soon. That is a Scandinavian dish I once saw on a cultural cooking show. It was made with leg of lamb, but I can substitute something else for the upper rack.
Thanksgiving is sure going to be an interesting meal! I'm looking forward to the food and family. After all, life is too short to die.
The middle of November brings plenty of schoolwork, so I haven't been writing as often as I should. My latest adventures have involved coming up with food to eat. No kidding - I'm trying a gluten-free diet to see if I might have gluten intolerance, since I don't have celiac disease. Moreover, I'm reducing/avoiding refined sugars and carbohydrates in my diet. This double requirement complicates things; basically I can't eat any bread: since my carbohydrates are reduced to whole grains, fruits and vegetables, I can't eat wheat, barley or rye anyway.
What does that leave? Quinoa, brown or wild rice, corn, potatoes, nopaltillas (tortillas made from nopales - cactus), all kinds of fun vegetables and fruits including squash, bell peppers, mushrooms of all edible sorts, onions and garlic (which contain helpful prebiotic fiber), plenty of beans and legumes to get my complete proteins, green leafy vegetables such as spinach, those lovely tomatoes, etc, etc. At this point, I'm still eating meat and dairy products to help balance things out, and my dinner plates have gotten much more colorful.
Soup is definitely my friend. There are so many varieties of soup which fit neatly into my dietary requirements. And usually, it's not too difficult to make. Mmmm, mashed potatoes. I'm generally an experimental cook anyways, but this challenge pushes the bounds of my comfort zone sometimes. Sometimes I end up making something that is merely a mixture of foods, a result of me going to the cupboards and pointing at random ingredients in succession, then hauling them out and preparing them together. Fried rice is an excellent example of that. I once ate a bowl of peas with potstickers made from soy protein. I guess pea soup is next on the list. Lentil soup is also one of my favorites, and (you didn't hear it from me) quite delicious with a splash of Ranch dressing. I ought to watch my fish and shellfish intake, of course - but those are fairly easy to cook and delicious to eat! I have also been making mixes of nuts and dried fruits for snacking, nothing fancy. Which reminds me, I want to try making root fruits in a roasting pan soon. That is a Scandinavian dish I once saw on a cultural cooking show. It was made with leg of lamb, but I can substitute something else for the upper rack.
Thanksgiving is sure going to be an interesting meal! I'm looking forward to the food and family. After all, life is too short to die.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Large Spiders
This week has been absurd in some ways... one of them being my extra-large spider sightings. On Halloween, I nearly ran into a spider with a body the size of a quarter, sitting on a strand of web between two trees over the sidewalk. I told the owner of the house on the corner that he didn't need Halloween decorations - the spider was frightening enough. Moreover, it was there when I left in the morning and when I returned a couple hours later, and in the evening when I set out for school, it was still in the same spot! I considered that abnormal behavior for such a large spider. Then, a few days ago at school as I was walking along the West Walkway, a large orange-colored spider descended from a tree right in front of my eyes. I stared up in disbelief and wonder at the round little body dangling in the air inches from my nose. Then I pulled out my cell phone and snapped a picture. I can't share it here, but just know that it was comparable in size to the first spider. This orange fellow, however, was missing his back left leg (as you all know, arachnids have eight legs), but it wasn't slowing him down as much as his huge abdomen, in my opinion. I knelt on the ground next to him when he touched down, and followed his progress for a few minutes as other people walked by, oblivious to the little wonder scrambling across the cement at their feet. Only one man stopped, seeing me there watching the little fellow, and asked if it were a spider. I answered affirmatively, and he looked askance at me, then continued on his way.
To explain a bit, I am not accustomed to stopping and taking the time to observe spiders on a daily basis. I wouldn't even say that I like spiders; in fact, my sister ordered me to kill countless little arachnids when we were growing up, but those were usually the Daddy Long-Legs variety or some other harmless tiny sort of spider. These big guys, well - I wasn't immediately thinking about squashing them. They actually really fascinate me - the two I met this week didn't appear to be poisonous, either. Spiders can be seen as beautiful, though they frighten many people. You can probably tell where I fall when it comes to spiders: curiosity wins out over the possible danger.
I wonder how many other little specimens I'll meet in the coming week. Perhaps I attract them somehow - or is it vice versa?
Either way, life is too short to die. Onward and upward!
To explain a bit, I am not accustomed to stopping and taking the time to observe spiders on a daily basis. I wouldn't even say that I like spiders; in fact, my sister ordered me to kill countless little arachnids when we were growing up, but those were usually the Daddy Long-Legs variety or some other harmless tiny sort of spider. These big guys, well - I wasn't immediately thinking about squashing them. They actually really fascinate me - the two I met this week didn't appear to be poisonous, either. Spiders can be seen as beautiful, though they frighten many people. You can probably tell where I fall when it comes to spiders: curiosity wins out over the possible danger.
I wonder how many other little specimens I'll meet in the coming week. Perhaps I attract them somehow - or is it vice versa?
Either way, life is too short to die. Onward and upward!
Monday, October 31, 2011
"Jack O' Jell-O" time
Well, we all know today was Halloween, formally known as "All Hallows Eve". In honor of the season... fall being one of my favorite times of year climate-wise, I carved pumpkins... out of orange Jell-O! Hahahaha!
Come on, you know it's cute. Not all of my Jack O' Jell-Os survived extraction from the pan, but the kids were eager to gobble them up no matter how grinning or gruesome they were.
Halloween aside, I saw some more beautiful art today at the school library. I had wandered upstairs and happened upon some display cases recessed inside study tables. My find included antique turquoise and silver jewelry, more embroidered textiles in the indigenous style, dyed leather garments, lace gloves and handkerchiefs, and old fashion plates from France at the turn of the 19th century, replete with ruffles and bustles a-plenty. The craftsmanship was detailed and the handiwork exquisite.
I stopped in to see James, the director of the non-profit art gallery on campus, before my class this evening. He was extolling the virtues of naps, the only drawback being that you can't take one at work, even on your break, unless you sneak off to sleep in your car. There is a new exhibit opening in a couple weeks, with the overall theme of rights, and four categories under that umbrella. James invited me over for the Gala... and I would like to attend. It sounds intriguing, indeed. I first met James last semester when the current exhibit was due to open in a couple days - I was not able to attend the opening then, but I came back when all the pieces were in place to see how their presentation and the lighting set them off to great advantage. PICTURE Cultural Art Gallery houses exhibits including work from artists around the globe, generally showcasing 80-100 pieces at a time. Every exhibition is themed and categorized with deep and diverse meaning. The quality of the artwork is fantastic and innovative. I enjoy visiting PICTURE as a retreat when I have time between classes or just to have a chat with James - he's quite the interesting fellow.
I'm looking forward to the Gala and the host of people I will have the chance to meet there. I imagine many of the artworks will be conversation-starters (update to follow).
It's good to take time to appreciate art and beauty, and delicious orange pumpkins carved out of Jell-O, Mmmmmm... After all, life is too short to die...
Come on, you know it's cute. Not all of my Jack O' Jell-Os survived extraction from the pan, but the kids were eager to gobble them up no matter how grinning or gruesome they were.
Halloween aside, I saw some more beautiful art today at the school library. I had wandered upstairs and happened upon some display cases recessed inside study tables. My find included antique turquoise and silver jewelry, more embroidered textiles in the indigenous style, dyed leather garments, lace gloves and handkerchiefs, and old fashion plates from France at the turn of the 19th century, replete with ruffles and bustles a-plenty. The craftsmanship was detailed and the handiwork exquisite.
I stopped in to see James, the director of the non-profit art gallery on campus, before my class this evening. He was extolling the virtues of naps, the only drawback being that you can't take one at work, even on your break, unless you sneak off to sleep in your car. There is a new exhibit opening in a couple weeks, with the overall theme of rights, and four categories under that umbrella. James invited me over for the Gala... and I would like to attend. It sounds intriguing, indeed. I first met James last semester when the current exhibit was due to open in a couple days - I was not able to attend the opening then, but I came back when all the pieces were in place to see how their presentation and the lighting set them off to great advantage. PICTURE Cultural Art Gallery houses exhibits including work from artists around the globe, generally showcasing 80-100 pieces at a time. Every exhibition is themed and categorized with deep and diverse meaning. The quality of the artwork is fantastic and innovative. I enjoy visiting PICTURE as a retreat when I have time between classes or just to have a chat with James - he's quite the interesting fellow.
I'm looking forward to the Gala and the host of people I will have the chance to meet there. I imagine many of the artworks will be conversation-starters (update to follow).
It's good to take time to appreciate art and beauty, and delicious orange pumpkins carved out of Jell-O, Mmmmmm... After all, life is too short to die...
Sunday, October 30, 2011
A Welcome Invitation
Today was the third time I fainted in a church. Not that it's necessarily a bad thing. I was humbled by being escorted out of the church by some dear family friends (whose children, coincidentally, have been my violin students in the past). Their kind concern truly touched me in that moment. I have also an older gentleman to thank for getting an extraordinary minister of the Eucharist to bring me Communion during the Mass, since I was too weak to join the line.
Afterwards, everyone followed in their cars to my parents' house, where they helped me inside and to lie down, offering to run errands to bring medicine or food which might help my condition. I declare, these people are some of the most generous I have ever met! They put aside their Sunday plans to help a girl who was ill. May God reward them.
Well, after some medicine and rest, I was well enough to take a little food, and presently I felt strong enough to venture out to visit with my mother's cousin Karen, whose birthday it is today. She had invited me on the spur of the moment yesterday, and I'm certainly glad I went! Small world, small world... her boyfriend had a close friend who came to the party, and it turned out he knew my mother from a young adults' Bible study back in the eighties, when my parents first met! Moreover, this man had been close friends with Karen's boyfriend since the eighties as well, through working for the same company, and my cousin started dating her boyfriend ten years ago! It's fun to see how people meet again after so many years and how they connect with each other in the present. That made the party even more enjoyable, because I could talk to that acquaintance of my mother's about the group and people whom I knew from there. It was great seeing my cousin's dogs again and meeting that family's dog, Happy. They had adopted a little boy from Russia who is the same age as my little brother, so they had great fun splashing in the jacuzzi and playing with marble tracks.
More of my cousin's friends trickled in and we got to talking about genealogy, since my family were the only relatives present. It's our current common hobby - especially on the Swedish side... and now Karen has me itching to go visit our family in Sweden (I've always wanted to travel), who could probably tell me much more about the family history. My current family tree project is sitting at 450 persons at the moment, including a few people on my father's side (mostly the living folks, from his generation down). We also briefly talked about food and cooking, including a recipe for Hungarian stew... I'll have to try that the first chance I get.
What a full day! Life is certainly worth living, and far too short to die.
Afterwards, everyone followed in their cars to my parents' house, where they helped me inside and to lie down, offering to run errands to bring medicine or food which might help my condition. I declare, these people are some of the most generous I have ever met! They put aside their Sunday plans to help a girl who was ill. May God reward them.
Well, after some medicine and rest, I was well enough to take a little food, and presently I felt strong enough to venture out to visit with my mother's cousin Karen, whose birthday it is today. She had invited me on the spur of the moment yesterday, and I'm certainly glad I went! Small world, small world... her boyfriend had a close friend who came to the party, and it turned out he knew my mother from a young adults' Bible study back in the eighties, when my parents first met! Moreover, this man had been close friends with Karen's boyfriend since the eighties as well, through working for the same company, and my cousin started dating her boyfriend ten years ago! It's fun to see how people meet again after so many years and how they connect with each other in the present. That made the party even more enjoyable, because I could talk to that acquaintance of my mother's about the group and people whom I knew from there. It was great seeing my cousin's dogs again and meeting that family's dog, Happy. They had adopted a little boy from Russia who is the same age as my little brother, so they had great fun splashing in the jacuzzi and playing with marble tracks.
More of my cousin's friends trickled in and we got to talking about genealogy, since my family were the only relatives present. It's our current common hobby - especially on the Swedish side... and now Karen has me itching to go visit our family in Sweden (I've always wanted to travel), who could probably tell me much more about the family history. My current family tree project is sitting at 450 persons at the moment, including a few people on my father's side (mostly the living folks, from his generation down). We also briefly talked about food and cooking, including a recipe for Hungarian stew... I'll have to try that the first chance I get.
What a full day! Life is certainly worth living, and far too short to die.
Friday, October 28, 2011
Human Again
Dear followers,
Lately, life has been downright exhausting. Life has also been uplifting and inspiring. But you know what? There is always something to be learned.
Today, I found another reason to be thankful that I'm alive. Another reason to be thankful for my faith, and the goodness that never fails to find me, no matter where I am.
That reason is another person. Just like the homeless man, something in this girl spoke to me. I desire souls for God!
I was given a chance today, an opportunity to represent Christ to another person. I honestly didn't think twice but jumped right in with both feet. To me, the Church's teaching on chastity and the sanctity of marriage is very clear, even from a strictly Scriptural standpoint. So I went ahead and explained what I understood about the awesome beauty of God's design for marriage and the love between a man and a woman. In the course of that discussion, I was also compelled to explain my feeble understanding of the attributes of God, of how God's Mercy is His greatest attribute, but He is also a Just God. Therefore our sins will have a reckoning, and a punishment that is due to them for offending God and neighbor. One need not fear this punishment, but simply trust in His Mercy and repentantly ask His forgiveness. God is not mean; He instead longs for us to return to Him and waits with great sorrow when we have turned away. I hope that I planted some seeds which will soon become fruitful.
I was amazed at how energized I became after that passionate exchange. Love can work wonders, it's true. That deep conviction of purpose filled my being, and I stand in awe of the way that God can show us His love through another person. I have no doubt that He placed me there today, to befriend this girl and show her His love. I feel that He has blessed our friendship.
Life is really too short to die, and I just found another reason to live!
Lately, life has been downright exhausting. Life has also been uplifting and inspiring. But you know what? There is always something to be learned.
Today, I found another reason to be thankful that I'm alive. Another reason to be thankful for my faith, and the goodness that never fails to find me, no matter where I am.
That reason is another person. Just like the homeless man, something in this girl spoke to me. I desire souls for God!
I was given a chance today, an opportunity to represent Christ to another person. I honestly didn't think twice but jumped right in with both feet. To me, the Church's teaching on chastity and the sanctity of marriage is very clear, even from a strictly Scriptural standpoint. So I went ahead and explained what I understood about the awesome beauty of God's design for marriage and the love between a man and a woman. In the course of that discussion, I was also compelled to explain my feeble understanding of the attributes of God, of how God's Mercy is His greatest attribute, but He is also a Just God. Therefore our sins will have a reckoning, and a punishment that is due to them for offending God and neighbor. One need not fear this punishment, but simply trust in His Mercy and repentantly ask His forgiveness. God is not mean; He instead longs for us to return to Him and waits with great sorrow when we have turned away. I hope that I planted some seeds which will soon become fruitful.
I was amazed at how energized I became after that passionate exchange. Love can work wonders, it's true. That deep conviction of purpose filled my being, and I stand in awe of the way that God can show us His love through another person. I have no doubt that He placed me there today, to befriend this girl and show her His love. I feel that He has blessed our friendship.
Life is really too short to die, and I just found another reason to live!
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
The hunt for earbuds... and Salad Nicoise
I had another adventure today. Well, technically I have adventures every day, so it goes without saying.
On a trip to Big Lots in search of little earbuds to substitute for my gargantuan headset that I normally use, I got a glimpse of a very interesting assortment of merchandise. Choosing the earbuds alone took plenty of time, as there were several different brands, colors, styles, and sizes. I had to make sure the driver diameter was the same, for the color that I wanted, with the correct features and most importantly, the right sized jack to plug into my computer's port. Or a CD player, for that matter. I do own a larger adapter for electronics that have a larger port... but finding one small enough, that's the trick.
Ah well, I finally picked out a silvery-white toned set. I toured the rest of the store, pausing now and again to exclaim over some oddity or novelty. There were hair curlers decked out in pink and black spots, funny balls of yarn in interesting color variations, all manner of good-smelling candles (always an attraction for me), psychedelic colored tinsel trees (reminiscent of Charlie Brown and the metal Christmas tree lot), framed prints, an aquarium-style lava lamp with fish instead of lava (don't ask), and the softest knit microfiber socks you ever saw. Let's just say it was fun. I enjoy random outings like this one.
At school, I had to knock out two midterm exams, one after the next. But in between, I savored my salad nicoise, an old recipe from my childhood which my mother let me borrow for the week. For all those of you not in "the know", salad nicoise has components similar to a chef's salad. Without giving away the complete recipe, the ingredients are cooked potatoes, hard-boiled eggs, black olives, tuna, lettuce, green beans, and mayonnaise mixed with Italian salad dressing (more oil and vinegar, ironic). In my family, we put a twist on it and make the dressing with tofu instead of mayonnaise - saves on the grease factor and adds protein! Mmmmm.
In class, we had an impromptu discussion about a particular professor who is apparently fond of dressing monochromatically - and I'm not talking black. According to my professor and other student witnesses, he comes to class each day dressed from head to toe in a single color - sometimes a rusty brown, or a deep green, a blue or red. Furthermore, this individual dresses solely in garments and gear labeled with a single brand name for that day. I heard that today's outfit was Adidas in green. Turns out he's an advanced biology professor who sits on the panels for getting into med school. Watch out! I started to joke that he might be into chromatherapy. Remember that?
Life is definitely too short to die. Looking forward to the adventures tomorrow will bring...
On a trip to Big Lots in search of little earbuds to substitute for my gargantuan headset that I normally use, I got a glimpse of a very interesting assortment of merchandise. Choosing the earbuds alone took plenty of time, as there were several different brands, colors, styles, and sizes. I had to make sure the driver diameter was the same, for the color that I wanted, with the correct features and most importantly, the right sized jack to plug into my computer's port. Or a CD player, for that matter. I do own a larger adapter for electronics that have a larger port... but finding one small enough, that's the trick.
Ah well, I finally picked out a silvery-white toned set. I toured the rest of the store, pausing now and again to exclaim over some oddity or novelty. There were hair curlers decked out in pink and black spots, funny balls of yarn in interesting color variations, all manner of good-smelling candles (always an attraction for me), psychedelic colored tinsel trees (reminiscent of Charlie Brown and the metal Christmas tree lot), framed prints, an aquarium-style lava lamp with fish instead of lava (don't ask), and the softest knit microfiber socks you ever saw. Let's just say it was fun. I enjoy random outings like this one.
At school, I had to knock out two midterm exams, one after the next. But in between, I savored my salad nicoise, an old recipe from my childhood which my mother let me borrow for the week. For all those of you not in "the know", salad nicoise has components similar to a chef's salad. Without giving away the complete recipe, the ingredients are cooked potatoes, hard-boiled eggs, black olives, tuna, lettuce, green beans, and mayonnaise mixed with Italian salad dressing (more oil and vinegar, ironic). In my family, we put a twist on it and make the dressing with tofu instead of mayonnaise - saves on the grease factor and adds protein! Mmmmm.
In class, we had an impromptu discussion about a particular professor who is apparently fond of dressing monochromatically - and I'm not talking black. According to my professor and other student witnesses, he comes to class each day dressed from head to toe in a single color - sometimes a rusty brown, or a deep green, a blue or red. Furthermore, this individual dresses solely in garments and gear labeled with a single brand name for that day. I heard that today's outfit was Adidas in green. Turns out he's an advanced biology professor who sits on the panels for getting into med school. Watch out! I started to joke that he might be into chromatherapy. Remember that?
Life is definitely too short to die. Looking forward to the adventures tomorrow will bring...
Monday, October 24, 2011
A Far-East Adventure
Today, well, I'm not sure what got into me - it could have been the bipolar weather, now that I think of it...
I went on my idea of a perfect date today, or it would have been the perfect date, if I had somebody to spend it with. However, since my heart is in Texas, I decided to relive that happiness in my own way.
I began by paying my respects at the local WWI and WWII veterans memorial, reading the engraved titles and names in the marble monument. Then I walked up the hill to the municipal library to check out the current art exhibits. Today's find were exquisite miniatures of Japanese traditional cultural dress, armor and architecture. The textiles were rich brocades and silks, sewn masterfully to create those famous textures and silhouettes of the porcelain figurines who wore them, posed in different attitudes. The painting on bamboo strips of a fancy house was ornate and colorful to the last detail.
The gallery exhibit featured oil pastel work by a local artist who used images of terrestrial landscapes from satellite photographs for his inspiration. They were quite fascinating and pleasing to the eye - he breathed life and color into volcanoes, depressions, lakes, mountains and other prominent geographical features from around the world.
Another new exhibit down the main walkway featured photographs hanging on a constructed wire frame, depicting the aftermath of the eruption of Mt. Pinatubo 20 years ago. The title of the exhibit was Pinatubo@20 - featuring the work of at least a dozen Filipino photographers. The destruction I saw in those pictures was devastating; miles and miles of ash and debris swept through the landscape and swallowed basically a whole town.
I stopped by the permanent fixtures - sculptural bouquets of blown glass ornaments - as somewhat of a tradition of visiting my favorite spot. The shiny, twisty glass reminds me of pulled sugar formations (must be all that Food Network we watch at the house) and Venetian canals.
Lastly, there were framed pieces created by local artists from the nearby adult school as well as middle and high schools in the area. My favorites were a teapot mirrored in a shiny table, a pair of elephants (mother and child), a small wave breaking on the shore, and some cheery lilies. There was also a watercolor of evergreen trees with clouds in the background which spoke to me. All in all, a successful art show - I was quite satisfied.
I took a walk down to a nearby fountain and watched the koi fish swim in a pool beneath a waterfall thundering over huge boulders. Japanese seemed to be the theme of the day, so I headed for a local sushi restaurant, Niko Niko Sushi. When I arrived, I realized that half of their non-sushi menu was Korean food! So much the better, in my opinion.
Outside the restaurant in a food court was a seemingly nondescript fountain with water running down the sides - the real attraction consisted of colored lights and a mysterious mist which would hiss forth every so often, diffused by the lights into blues and greens. Later the fountain became a towering geyser of sorts, all lit up from the center with changing hues. What a transformation! But a good appetizer, nonetheless.
Inside the restaurant, I noticed the basic colors of black and red against a yellow-tinged cream base. Candle holders lined the wall atop a black marble shelf beneath a framed abstract print of a tree. A leaf-shaped metal decoration suspended fan-like ornaments of round shell at the entrance to the hallway which led to the kitchen, the doorway of which was decorated with a cloth curtain dip-dyed rustically in navy blue and red stripes. A young man named Peter seated me at a little square table and brought me water, laying down a bowl of edamame in the pod and a bowl for dipping sauce (which I could mix to my preference out of wasabi and soy sauce). He also brought a sectioned condiment dish with pickled ginger in one half and a scoop of green wasabi in the other. All the waiters were young, male, and presumably trilingual (I overheard them speaking in Korean together, though they spoke to the sushi chef in Japanese). The menu, a large laminated card slightly larger than a placemat, was overwhelming, with its colorful photos of all the possible sushi rolls, and other dishes on the reverse. A card at my right hand displayed the beverage menu, including brown rice green tea (which I plan to order upon my return).
At Peter's recommendation, I ordered the Ultimate Albacore Roll: sesame mustard sauce with fried white onions piled on top of a roll stuffed with spicy tuna and cucumber and draped with a tender cut of albacore. Kudos to Peter! It was delicious. Messy, of course, since my small mouth can barely fit around a piece of sushi (thank God for chopsticks and their scissor-like capabilities!)... but so worth it! Naturally, I was intimidated by sitting alone in a sushi restaurant stuffing my face in front of three cute Asian guys and the watchful eyes of the sushi chef, who was no doubt ticking off my etiquette infringements by the minute. So I decided not to indulge in a scoop of green tea ice cream, but I did skip next door to Golden Spoon and secure myself a tiny bowl of Kahlua-flavored soft-serve. The perks of food courts - everything is in one place. Unfortunately, by the time I emerged from the establishment, the gas fireplace outdoors had been extinguished, so I dutifully gave myself a brain-freeze with spoonfuls of ice cream while standing in the mist from the mysterious fountain.
To keep the blood moving in my veins, I began walking again, making the circuit of eateries and coffeshops. I also sneaked a couple sniffs at B&BW since its sweet scents and the warmth of a storefront drew me in on the second loop.
Not a bad way to spend the perfect date, eh? If only he were here. He's just going to have to be jealous that I ate sushi without him. After all, life's too short to die - seriously.
I went on my idea of a perfect date today, or it would have been the perfect date, if I had somebody to spend it with. However, since my heart is in Texas, I decided to relive that happiness in my own way.
I began by paying my respects at the local WWI and WWII veterans memorial, reading the engraved titles and names in the marble monument. Then I walked up the hill to the municipal library to check out the current art exhibits. Today's find were exquisite miniatures of Japanese traditional cultural dress, armor and architecture. The textiles were rich brocades and silks, sewn masterfully to create those famous textures and silhouettes of the porcelain figurines who wore them, posed in different attitudes. The painting on bamboo strips of a fancy house was ornate and colorful to the last detail.
The gallery exhibit featured oil pastel work by a local artist who used images of terrestrial landscapes from satellite photographs for his inspiration. They were quite fascinating and pleasing to the eye - he breathed life and color into volcanoes, depressions, lakes, mountains and other prominent geographical features from around the world.
Another new exhibit down the main walkway featured photographs hanging on a constructed wire frame, depicting the aftermath of the eruption of Mt. Pinatubo 20 years ago. The title of the exhibit was Pinatubo@20 - featuring the work of at least a dozen Filipino photographers. The destruction I saw in those pictures was devastating; miles and miles of ash and debris swept through the landscape and swallowed basically a whole town.
I stopped by the permanent fixtures - sculptural bouquets of blown glass ornaments - as somewhat of a tradition of visiting my favorite spot. The shiny, twisty glass reminds me of pulled sugar formations (must be all that Food Network we watch at the house) and Venetian canals.
Lastly, there were framed pieces created by local artists from the nearby adult school as well as middle and high schools in the area. My favorites were a teapot mirrored in a shiny table, a pair of elephants (mother and child), a small wave breaking on the shore, and some cheery lilies. There was also a watercolor of evergreen trees with clouds in the background which spoke to me. All in all, a successful art show - I was quite satisfied.
I took a walk down to a nearby fountain and watched the koi fish swim in a pool beneath a waterfall thundering over huge boulders. Japanese seemed to be the theme of the day, so I headed for a local sushi restaurant, Niko Niko Sushi. When I arrived, I realized that half of their non-sushi menu was Korean food! So much the better, in my opinion.
Outside the restaurant in a food court was a seemingly nondescript fountain with water running down the sides - the real attraction consisted of colored lights and a mysterious mist which would hiss forth every so often, diffused by the lights into blues and greens. Later the fountain became a towering geyser of sorts, all lit up from the center with changing hues. What a transformation! But a good appetizer, nonetheless.
Inside the restaurant, I noticed the basic colors of black and red against a yellow-tinged cream base. Candle holders lined the wall atop a black marble shelf beneath a framed abstract print of a tree. A leaf-shaped metal decoration suspended fan-like ornaments of round shell at the entrance to the hallway which led to the kitchen, the doorway of which was decorated with a cloth curtain dip-dyed rustically in navy blue and red stripes. A young man named Peter seated me at a little square table and brought me water, laying down a bowl of edamame in the pod and a bowl for dipping sauce (which I could mix to my preference out of wasabi and soy sauce). He also brought a sectioned condiment dish with pickled ginger in one half and a scoop of green wasabi in the other. All the waiters were young, male, and presumably trilingual (I overheard them speaking in Korean together, though they spoke to the sushi chef in Japanese). The menu, a large laminated card slightly larger than a placemat, was overwhelming, with its colorful photos of all the possible sushi rolls, and other dishes on the reverse. A card at my right hand displayed the beverage menu, including brown rice green tea (which I plan to order upon my return).
At Peter's recommendation, I ordered the Ultimate Albacore Roll: sesame mustard sauce with fried white onions piled on top of a roll stuffed with spicy tuna and cucumber and draped with a tender cut of albacore. Kudos to Peter! It was delicious. Messy, of course, since my small mouth can barely fit around a piece of sushi (thank God for chopsticks and their scissor-like capabilities!)... but so worth it! Naturally, I was intimidated by sitting alone in a sushi restaurant stuffing my face in front of three cute Asian guys and the watchful eyes of the sushi chef, who was no doubt ticking off my etiquette infringements by the minute. So I decided not to indulge in a scoop of green tea ice cream, but I did skip next door to Golden Spoon and secure myself a tiny bowl of Kahlua-flavored soft-serve. The perks of food courts - everything is in one place. Unfortunately, by the time I emerged from the establishment, the gas fireplace outdoors had been extinguished, so I dutifully gave myself a brain-freeze with spoonfuls of ice cream while standing in the mist from the mysterious fountain.
To keep the blood moving in my veins, I began walking again, making the circuit of eateries and coffeshops. I also sneaked a couple sniffs at B&BW since its sweet scents and the warmth of a storefront drew me in on the second loop.
Not a bad way to spend the perfect date, eh? If only he were here. He's just going to have to be jealous that I ate sushi without him. After all, life's too short to die - seriously.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
New Faces and Heavenly Voices
Today found me at a Tridentine Latin Mass at St. Therese Parish. It had been a while, some eighteen months or more, since I had attended Mass there. With the first notes of the organ swelling, I was filled with a deep sense of peace. Looking into the Face of Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament moments before, I had many questions and supplications, and the whole Mass was His answer of reassurance.
After Mass, I was introduced to the celebrant, a wonderful Claretian priest with a beautiful singing voice. I also met several other "regulars" of that Mass and we all went out for "linner" (contraction of lunch and dinner). That was a rambunctious time, indeed. These folks were from varying walks of life and had differing temperaments, but they shared a time-honored friendship based around the Traditional Mass - which was the main topic of conversation, of course.
There was a fellow from Ireland with his Chinese wife, talking about a Catholic Answers dinner they had attended the previous night. The gentleman mentioned meeting a priest there who had an Italian surname but a thick Irish brogue like his - who'd have thought? Our quiet companion shared his grief and we prayed with him for the soul of his dearly departed. The religious Brother wowed us with his conversational knowledge of phrases in many languages, both Eastern and Western - he knew which waitresses came from different countries and spoke to them in their own tongues! The film executive regaled us with tales of the shooting process and providential moments, while everyone enjoyed the meal.
At the end of the day, I was stuffed and exhausted, but also refreshed by good company and a beautiful Mass. I hadn't realized just how much I missed it. I'll have to go more often!
After all, life is too short to die.
After Mass, I was introduced to the celebrant, a wonderful Claretian priest with a beautiful singing voice. I also met several other "regulars" of that Mass and we all went out for "linner" (contraction of lunch and dinner). That was a rambunctious time, indeed. These folks were from varying walks of life and had differing temperaments, but they shared a time-honored friendship based around the Traditional Mass - which was the main topic of conversation, of course.
There was a fellow from Ireland with his Chinese wife, talking about a Catholic Answers dinner they had attended the previous night. The gentleman mentioned meeting a priest there who had an Italian surname but a thick Irish brogue like his - who'd have thought? Our quiet companion shared his grief and we prayed with him for the soul of his dearly departed. The religious Brother wowed us with his conversational knowledge of phrases in many languages, both Eastern and Western - he knew which waitresses came from different countries and spoke to them in their own tongues! The film executive regaled us with tales of the shooting process and providential moments, while everyone enjoyed the meal.
At the end of the day, I was stuffed and exhausted, but also refreshed by good company and a beautiful Mass. I hadn't realized just how much I missed it. I'll have to go more often!
After all, life is too short to die.
Behind Marble Walls
Recently I visited an old cemetery where some of my relatives are buried. Some have grassy plots beneath a coral tree, and others are walled in the mausoleum nearby. The grounds were vast, dotted with monstrous crypts, heavy-hewn tombstones and the more modern rectangular markers engraved with names and dates and the occasional decoration.
I saw many headstones which were incomplete, to my surprise - some with rather old dates - you'd think the spouse would have died and been buried by now, fifty years after the death of the first! Moreover, they were incomplete inconsistently: some had both names and birth dates, with only one person's date of death, and others were completely blank on one half. It truly puzzled me.
Though I never personally knew any of the people whose graves I had come to visit, I felt as though I were connected with them in some way, as I cleaned away the weeds and dirt from the markers that bore their names. They were my great-aunts and uncles, on my mother's side. I'd heard their names countless times as a child, mentioned at Christmas gatherings and weekend visits with my grandparents. Sadly, I cannot recall a single memory - Uncle Clif died when I was five, Uncle Carol when I was four. I do remember Uncle Carol's funeral as being the first one I ever attended, and a strong memory at that, for that age. I've always retained a certain curiosity and comfort about cemeteries and places where the dead are laid to rest. I like to go there to remember; though I know that their souls have passed on to some other place, they are still with us in some way, too.
I learned something that day. My great-grandparents, who are buried in the mausoleum, had Masonic symbols on their name-plates. I don't ever remember hearing about them attending a Masonic temple, but apparently they were fairly involved at some point. Time to start talking to the first-cousins-once-removed...
I was loath to leave that place. Though I don't remember any of them, I felt like walking away was a sort of first "goodbye" to these relatives that I never knew. I even got choked up a little as I moved on. I know for sure that I will be back someday. For now, I plan to visit the other places where my relatives lie, and pay my respects there. It has been far too long since I stood before their graves and murmured a little prayer for the eternal happiness of their souls.
This I know: life is too short to die, so I must truly live, and perhaps someone who never really knew me will remember me, too.
I saw many headstones which were incomplete, to my surprise - some with rather old dates - you'd think the spouse would have died and been buried by now, fifty years after the death of the first! Moreover, they were incomplete inconsistently: some had both names and birth dates, with only one person's date of death, and others were completely blank on one half. It truly puzzled me.
Though I never personally knew any of the people whose graves I had come to visit, I felt as though I were connected with them in some way, as I cleaned away the weeds and dirt from the markers that bore their names. They were my great-aunts and uncles, on my mother's side. I'd heard their names countless times as a child, mentioned at Christmas gatherings and weekend visits with my grandparents. Sadly, I cannot recall a single memory - Uncle Clif died when I was five, Uncle Carol when I was four. I do remember Uncle Carol's funeral as being the first one I ever attended, and a strong memory at that, for that age. I've always retained a certain curiosity and comfort about cemeteries and places where the dead are laid to rest. I like to go there to remember; though I know that their souls have passed on to some other place, they are still with us in some way, too.
I learned something that day. My great-grandparents, who are buried in the mausoleum, had Masonic symbols on their name-plates. I don't ever remember hearing about them attending a Masonic temple, but apparently they were fairly involved at some point. Time to start talking to the first-cousins-once-removed...
I was loath to leave that place. Though I don't remember any of them, I felt like walking away was a sort of first "goodbye" to these relatives that I never knew. I even got choked up a little as I moved on. I know for sure that I will be back someday. For now, I plan to visit the other places where my relatives lie, and pay my respects there. It has been far too long since I stood before their graves and murmured a little prayer for the eternal happiness of their souls.
This I know: life is too short to die, so I must truly live, and perhaps someone who never really knew me will remember me, too.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Awesome Cloud Formations
You know how I love to lay back in the grass and watch the clouds go by. Today I found a really cool webpage that has collected several pictures of unusual and interesting cloud forms, including a shape known as the "UFO" or "Unidentified Flying Object" form. There's even a video of that one!
Guess what else I found out? If you lie down in the grass and look at the sky sideways (by turning your head to one side and looking at the sky), it looks flat! Perhaps Chicken Little thought the sky was falling because of that phenomenon - she should have seen these pictures.
On my long wandering walk today, I saw succulent ice plants growing all along a hill, some bearing purple blooms with long, skinny petals forming a narrow cup shape. Of course, these plants also bear white, yellow and pink flowers, too. They tend to grow in warmer climates, so disregard the name; I've also noticed they are often planted along freeways and near the ocean. Ice plants make for a lovely, dense growth that is nigh impossible to walk through, so if I ever live in a house on a hill, I'd plant those along the border so that it would be undisturbed!
I also saw some friendly monarch butterflies, with their rich golden-orange tones rimmed in black - almost like a stained-glass window. I am blessed to live in a place where I can see them at the very least once a week, and at most every day! There is something calming and refreshing about seeing butterflies, swooping and soaring about in the air, fluttering around and drinking the nectar of their favorite flowers. Their grace is fascinating.
Along the river, there is a horse ranch, the B&B. On my walk home, I watched the great brown beauties canter about and flick their tails in the sunshine. In the morning, it had been cloudy and misty, but by early afternoon the sun was peeking out for all to enjoy. Someday, I'd like to ride a horse again. They seem like such deep, compassionate, noble creatures.
Well, I also spent some time with humans today. During a side-trip to the mall, I encountered an old friend from high school and we exchanged greetings while testing out the fancy-looking couches in a seating area. Since when did they install marble table-tops and shiny upholstery? Later, I wandered down to the Macy's store and was about to attempt a window-shopping walkthrough when I was hailed by the counter attendant of Origins. Not knowing anything of the brand, I allowed the lady to introduce the concept, the products, and listened to her personal testimony. I took to her right away: young, pretty and passionate about her work. Well, I was more impressed by her passion and the company's philosophy.
For those of you who don't know, Origins is a skincare label, priding themselves on natural ingredients and formulas free of harmful chemicals. They also carry a cosmetics line, including colors. I wasn't interested in the makeup, however - perhaps another day. I was interested in the natural ingredients, predominantly white tea and ginger, which are revitalizing, cleansing and purifying. The whole point behind Origins, the attendant explained, is to protect the skin against sun damage and aging - and when damage has occurred, to try to heal and recover skin tone. I was able to test two products: a mangosteen-infused moisturizer that changes color to match skin tone (pretty fun to watch), and another moisturizer with antioxidant white tea base. Both were oil-free, went on smoothly and had refreshing, natural scents. I've always been a sucker for botany, though I haven't studied it formally, so the ingredient lists were intriguing!
When I got home, I did a little web research and discovered that Origins is not only committed to using natural ingredients, but also invested in eco-friendly processes and planting trees to improve global ecology. Sustainability is pretty cool, and this is one business that impresses me with their green practices and mission of botanical skin care. It may not be cheap, but I have no doubt that the products are worth the price tag.
All of this is fascinating and makes a person glad to be alive. Don't you agree? Life is just too short to die.
Guess what else I found out? If you lie down in the grass and look at the sky sideways (by turning your head to one side and looking at the sky), it looks flat! Perhaps Chicken Little thought the sky was falling because of that phenomenon - she should have seen these pictures.
On my long wandering walk today, I saw succulent ice plants growing all along a hill, some bearing purple blooms with long, skinny petals forming a narrow cup shape. Of course, these plants also bear white, yellow and pink flowers, too. They tend to grow in warmer climates, so disregard the name; I've also noticed they are often planted along freeways and near the ocean. Ice plants make for a lovely, dense growth that is nigh impossible to walk through, so if I ever live in a house on a hill, I'd plant those along the border so that it would be undisturbed!
I also saw some friendly monarch butterflies, with their rich golden-orange tones rimmed in black - almost like a stained-glass window. I am blessed to live in a place where I can see them at the very least once a week, and at most every day! There is something calming and refreshing about seeing butterflies, swooping and soaring about in the air, fluttering around and drinking the nectar of their favorite flowers. Their grace is fascinating.
Along the river, there is a horse ranch, the B&B. On my walk home, I watched the great brown beauties canter about and flick their tails in the sunshine. In the morning, it had been cloudy and misty, but by early afternoon the sun was peeking out for all to enjoy. Someday, I'd like to ride a horse again. They seem like such deep, compassionate, noble creatures.
Well, I also spent some time with humans today. During a side-trip to the mall, I encountered an old friend from high school and we exchanged greetings while testing out the fancy-looking couches in a seating area. Since when did they install marble table-tops and shiny upholstery? Later, I wandered down to the Macy's store and was about to attempt a window-shopping walkthrough when I was hailed by the counter attendant of Origins. Not knowing anything of the brand, I allowed the lady to introduce the concept, the products, and listened to her personal testimony. I took to her right away: young, pretty and passionate about her work. Well, I was more impressed by her passion and the company's philosophy.
For those of you who don't know, Origins is a skincare label, priding themselves on natural ingredients and formulas free of harmful chemicals. They also carry a cosmetics line, including colors. I wasn't interested in the makeup, however - perhaps another day. I was interested in the natural ingredients, predominantly white tea and ginger, which are revitalizing, cleansing and purifying. The whole point behind Origins, the attendant explained, is to protect the skin against sun damage and aging - and when damage has occurred, to try to heal and recover skin tone. I was able to test two products: a mangosteen-infused moisturizer that changes color to match skin tone (pretty fun to watch), and another moisturizer with antioxidant white tea base. Both were oil-free, went on smoothly and had refreshing, natural scents. I've always been a sucker for botany, though I haven't studied it formally, so the ingredient lists were intriguing!
When I got home, I did a little web research and discovered that Origins is not only committed to using natural ingredients, but also invested in eco-friendly processes and planting trees to improve global ecology. Sustainability is pretty cool, and this is one business that impresses me with their green practices and mission of botanical skin care. It may not be cheap, but I have no doubt that the products are worth the price tag.
All of this is fascinating and makes a person glad to be alive. Don't you agree? Life is just too short to die.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
An Impromptu Breakfast
Sunday brought sunshine, Father Jeremy, and breakfast with a dear friend whom I had not seen in a few months. We met outside the church after Mass, and the next thing I knew, I was being asked to breakfast! It was very kind of her to ask, and we had plenty to chat about and catch up on each others' lives. We set out for a little cafe nearby (Mimi's) and were soon settled down in a cozy little nook of our own. Deciding between strawberry lemonade and orange juice proved a lighthearted conversation-starter, and within minutes we were chatting like old friends. She opted for the frittata, and I have a weakness for pumpkin pancakes, so I ordered those. Over that delicious fare, we shared heartfelt stories and understandings. Despite our age difference and present circumstances, we were able to speak very openly and honestly about our experiences in life.
The most unlikely friends are often the very best ones. I've come to realize that in the past few years by how much my life has been changed by these very people, the ones I might otherwise never have noticed. That's what you call Divine Providence!
I felt something of a kindred spirit in a young woman I met recently at one of the gatherings of Catholic youth. I want to reach out to her, because I feel we can learn something from each other, and share our struggles. This is a feeling so strong I would feel amiss to ignore it. We'll see where that adventure leads!
After all, life is too short to die... better make the most of it!
The most unlikely friends are often the very best ones. I've come to realize that in the past few years by how much my life has been changed by these very people, the ones I might otherwise never have noticed. That's what you call Divine Providence!
I felt something of a kindred spirit in a young woman I met recently at one of the gatherings of Catholic youth. I want to reach out to her, because I feel we can learn something from each other, and share our struggles. This is a feeling so strong I would feel amiss to ignore it. We'll see where that adventure leads!
After all, life is too short to die... better make the most of it!
Saturday, October 15, 2011
A touch of lace, a dark green sash...
Candles, a church, a woman veiled in white... You guessed it - I went to a wedding today! It was so beautiful that I found myself sniffling and dabbing my eyes within the first few minutes of the procession! That's a record if I ever made one. The entire wedding party was made up of close family members of the bride and groom, both of whom are my friends. Let me say props to whoever had the idea for the color scheme and designed the gowns! They were gorgeous - a deep, rich green (remember, I like that color) for the bridesmaids and cream-colored dresses for the three sweet little flower girls, tied with big green bows at the back and all wearing white flowers in their hair. The bride was radiant, beaming with joy, and the groom was standing tall with his brothers at his side.
I got to hear one of my favorite choral pieces in instrumental form, performed by the organist for Mary's Voice choir: St. Therese's "Canticle of Love", written by a Carmelite Sister. It was truly uplifting, as were the other traditional hymns and the Mass setting of Missa de Angelis or "Mass of the Angels" in English. We were all grinning as Fr. Jeremy held the microphone up for the celebrant who gave the prompts for the vows and then passed it in front of the couple to answer.
On a different note, I found something remarkable and absolutely charming in my inbox yesterday that I must share with all of you. As you know, knitting is one of my crafting hobbies. Some brilliant and creative folks have posted videos related to knitting on YouTube, and this is one of my favorites. It is true genius at work. Ah, the simple joys of knitting!
Tonight, I also had the pleasure of eating an unusual meal: traditional Vietnamese rice cakes (sweet rice stuffed with mung bean and pork, wrapped in banana leaves to hold their shape) with sauteed bamboo shoots, salty pork and egg, with dragon fruit for dessert (mmmmmm it was so delicious!). If you have never tried any of the above, you are missing out on some incredible flavors. No, it's definitely not gourmet. But home-cooked ethnic food is not to be passed over for something you could eat in a restaurant. Their construction and preparation is simple, and the presentation is colorful and nutritious. So the next time your Vietnamese, Cambodian, Thai or Laotian friend invites you over for a meal, give it a try. You might end up finding something that you'll enjoy for the rest of your life, and that you might have missed had you said 'no'.
I got to hear one of my favorite choral pieces in instrumental form, performed by the organist for Mary's Voice choir: St. Therese's "Canticle of Love", written by a Carmelite Sister. It was truly uplifting, as were the other traditional hymns and the Mass setting of Missa de Angelis or "Mass of the Angels" in English. We were all grinning as Fr. Jeremy held the microphone up for the celebrant who gave the prompts for the vows and then passed it in front of the couple to answer.
On a different note, I found something remarkable and absolutely charming in my inbox yesterday that I must share with all of you. As you know, knitting is one of my crafting hobbies. Some brilliant and creative folks have posted videos related to knitting on YouTube, and this is one of my favorites. It is true genius at work. Ah, the simple joys of knitting!
Tonight, I also had the pleasure of eating an unusual meal: traditional Vietnamese rice cakes (sweet rice stuffed with mung bean and pork, wrapped in banana leaves to hold their shape) with sauteed bamboo shoots, salty pork and egg, with dragon fruit for dessert (mmmmmm it was so delicious!). If you have never tried any of the above, you are missing out on some incredible flavors. No, it's definitely not gourmet. But home-cooked ethnic food is not to be passed over for something you could eat in a restaurant. Their construction and preparation is simple, and the presentation is colorful and nutritious. So the next time your Vietnamese, Cambodian, Thai or Laotian friend invites you over for a meal, give it a try. You might end up finding something that you'll enjoy for the rest of your life, and that you might have missed had you said 'no'.
Friday, October 14, 2011
Autumn Leaves and... Grasshoppers?
Today, on my way to a local park, I strode through countless piles of extra-crunchy, orangey-brown leaves, swept into the perfect formations for crunching. Fall must be in the air - for a sudden chill came over the day as the sunlight waned, despite the triple-digit weather of the past few days. Wow, California, can't you make up your mind? But to all my friends in other states, yes, we do have weather here, though it plays peek-a-boo most of the year.
Moreover, as I walked along a bridge over the river, a brown grasshopper leapt from a post to the fence, mere inches from my nose. That's never happened before! What a curious and wonderful way to welcome the fall...
There were wispy, spun-sugar clouds sweeping the skyscape and light breezes blowing through the trees all around, and the bright green of the grass cheered my spirit. As much as I love charcoal gray, amber and pumpkin orange, a beautiful green is always a pleasant sight to see. Imagine my smile when I came home to find a quaint-looking little orange pumpkin reposed on the table, its stem curved shyly downwards.
When I was shopping for yarn just the other day, I saw three different shades of orange that called to me. What is it about orange this year that has caught my eye? I'm not exactly sure. I did buy four pumpkin-scented hand sanitizer bottles the other day, however. Maybe it has something to do with nostalgia...
Crunchy leaves, pumpkin-painting contests, candy corn (ahhhh, candy corn) - these are some of my orange memories. But I've always leaned more towards green as a favorite color. Come to think of it, I'm wearing green right now. I've always loved earth tones, especially a deep rich forest green and the varying shades of brown as well as ocean and sky blues.
I do hope the weather settles into a cooler pattern soon, so I can go out walking wearing a warm scarf and pounce on those inviting piles of dry leaves on the sidewalks. After all, life is too short to die.
Moreover, as I walked along a bridge over the river, a brown grasshopper leapt from a post to the fence, mere inches from my nose. That's never happened before! What a curious and wonderful way to welcome the fall...
There were wispy, spun-sugar clouds sweeping the skyscape and light breezes blowing through the trees all around, and the bright green of the grass cheered my spirit. As much as I love charcoal gray, amber and pumpkin orange, a beautiful green is always a pleasant sight to see. Imagine my smile when I came home to find a quaint-looking little orange pumpkin reposed on the table, its stem curved shyly downwards.
When I was shopping for yarn just the other day, I saw three different shades of orange that called to me. What is it about orange this year that has caught my eye? I'm not exactly sure. I did buy four pumpkin-scented hand sanitizer bottles the other day, however. Maybe it has something to do with nostalgia...
Crunchy leaves, pumpkin-painting contests, candy corn (ahhhh, candy corn) - these are some of my orange memories. But I've always leaned more towards green as a favorite color. Come to think of it, I'm wearing green right now. I've always loved earth tones, especially a deep rich forest green and the varying shades of brown as well as ocean and sky blues.
I do hope the weather settles into a cooler pattern soon, so I can go out walking wearing a warm scarf and pounce on those inviting piles of dry leaves on the sidewalks. After all, life is too short to die.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
A Life-Changing Experience
Hello, folks. Sometimes the most unexpected things can cause us to reflect on our lives and see things in a different light. From that moment, everything changes. I know I'll never be the same.
Well, let me back up a bit. Life for me was forging forward as usual - quite a struggle at times, but nothing really exceptional was happening. I was constantly dealing with depressive thoughts and a sluggish apathy which threatened to take over - no doubt intended to distract me from my purpose of living. I was ready to give up but always found a reason each day to go on. There was always something to keep me going, some little hope hidden like a treasure in each day, a challenge to discover.
You know what always brought me out of that darkness? Finding that someone else needed me, and doing whatever I could to help that person. This week, there have been two major things already which have really revitalized my existence by the purpose of serving others. Making something for another person, something unexpected and special, is an activity I thoroughly enjoy.
One, a close friend of mine has been feeling fatigued lately and not up to the usual list of household chores and cooking. So, I took it upon myself to cook dinner this week, being as creative as possible with the ingredients while creating simple and delicious yet nutritious meals. Even though recently I had been losing appetite and the enjoyment of cooking and eating, the simple act of preparing food for someone else gave me great joy and boosted my own appetite. I look forward each day now to trying a new recipe or technique to delight and satisfy my friends.
Two, I found a homeless person lying on the street. Walking by, I felt the pull of what some call fate - the harkening to an old story of the Good Samaritan - and wondered what on earth I could offer this person. With my limited means and nothing on my person save for school supplies, I pondered and wracked my brains searching for an idea of how to give something to that person. For to me, that person was Jesus, lying there helpless and poor, at wit's end, exhausted, probably hungry and cold, and above all, alone. "There but for the grace of God go I," played like a refrain in my head. I rushed home and threw together a bundle of what little I could find, jotted a quick note and hurried back to that person. Not wanting to disturb their sleep, I placed the bundle in their cart and walked home. Today, I saw the man standing near a bus stop nearby where I had first found him, and as I walked by, I smiled at him, thinking how he would probably never know how much I longed to share in his suffering and to give whatever I could to help him.
It really breaks my heart to see people drinking themselves to death. Whatever brought them to that place was probably extremely painful emotionally, if not physically. And since there seemed to be nobody else around, I wanted to be the one to help; I felt called. I hope I will see my friend around again soon, so that I can know how he is doing and pray for him specifically. Moreover, I will stockpile little supplies as I can get them to give to others like him if I should happen to encounter them on my way.
Now I feel like I can truly live St. Therese's Vivre d'amour, "to live by love". To live for others, not only those who do good to me or those who are my blood relatives, but any human being who is suffering and for whom I have the capacity to do good. Thank You, Lord Jesus, for this opportunity to meet you in my lowly brother!
Now let me live! Because life is too short to die without giving of myself and sacrificing for others who need a little compassion.
Well, let me back up a bit. Life for me was forging forward as usual - quite a struggle at times, but nothing really exceptional was happening. I was constantly dealing with depressive thoughts and a sluggish apathy which threatened to take over - no doubt intended to distract me from my purpose of living. I was ready to give up but always found a reason each day to go on. There was always something to keep me going, some little hope hidden like a treasure in each day, a challenge to discover.
You know what always brought me out of that darkness? Finding that someone else needed me, and doing whatever I could to help that person. This week, there have been two major things already which have really revitalized my existence by the purpose of serving others. Making something for another person, something unexpected and special, is an activity I thoroughly enjoy.
One, a close friend of mine has been feeling fatigued lately and not up to the usual list of household chores and cooking. So, I took it upon myself to cook dinner this week, being as creative as possible with the ingredients while creating simple and delicious yet nutritious meals. Even though recently I had been losing appetite and the enjoyment of cooking and eating, the simple act of preparing food for someone else gave me great joy and boosted my own appetite. I look forward each day now to trying a new recipe or technique to delight and satisfy my friends.
Two, I found a homeless person lying on the street. Walking by, I felt the pull of what some call fate - the harkening to an old story of the Good Samaritan - and wondered what on earth I could offer this person. With my limited means and nothing on my person save for school supplies, I pondered and wracked my brains searching for an idea of how to give something to that person. For to me, that person was Jesus, lying there helpless and poor, at wit's end, exhausted, probably hungry and cold, and above all, alone. "There but for the grace of God go I," played like a refrain in my head. I rushed home and threw together a bundle of what little I could find, jotted a quick note and hurried back to that person. Not wanting to disturb their sleep, I placed the bundle in their cart and walked home. Today, I saw the man standing near a bus stop nearby where I had first found him, and as I walked by, I smiled at him, thinking how he would probably never know how much I longed to share in his suffering and to give whatever I could to help him.
It really breaks my heart to see people drinking themselves to death. Whatever brought them to that place was probably extremely painful emotionally, if not physically. And since there seemed to be nobody else around, I wanted to be the one to help; I felt called. I hope I will see my friend around again soon, so that I can know how he is doing and pray for him specifically. Moreover, I will stockpile little supplies as I can get them to give to others like him if I should happen to encounter them on my way.
Now I feel like I can truly live St. Therese's Vivre d'amour, "to live by love". To live for others, not only those who do good to me or those who are my blood relatives, but any human being who is suffering and for whom I have the capacity to do good. Thank You, Lord Jesus, for this opportunity to meet you in my lowly brother!
Now let me live! Because life is too short to die without giving of myself and sacrificing for others who need a little compassion.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Gymnastics
Okay, so I haven't officially trained in gymnastics or anything beyond a one-day free pass experience when I was, oh, say 8 years old? - but my own sister competed in gymnastics in high school, which was a fun time. I used to love watching her artistic movements on the balance beam (her best event). So graceful, fluid and poised. Needless to say, I wish I had that sort of confidence - but what I am speaking of here is more of the abstract nature. When I say I've been doing gymnastics lately - I mean that my heart has been stretching, leaping, wavering, and falling.
The human psyche sure is fascinating. I've heard it said, "The furthest distance in the world is from the head to the heart." Now I begin to see the truth of that statement - when I'm overwhelmed with emotion and logical arguments are devouring each other in my head. It's amazing what I will give up or forget to maintain when my heart is in pain - such as eating or sleeping - and the reasons that I construct for denying myself certain comforts or distractions, such as this wonderful blog. Again, I apologize to my readers for not being here.
To a certain extent, I wonder how much of my physical pain is related to a sort of "cramping" from emotional gymnastics. There is such a thing as psychosomatic conversion, when physical symptoms appear with no known physical cause, such as painful sensations, blindness, loss of sensation in a limb, and so forth. The theory behind it is that severe emotional trauma can produce adverse physical symptoms in a phantom manner; that is, the stress manifests itself as a physical disease, when other disease indicators are not present. I studied this in my abnormal psychology class a couple years ago. I have experienced, in combination, tremendous physical and emotional pain these past few days. I hope all that crying has rid me of plenty of troublesome cortisone, however I know that science cannot explain everything for me, and why would I want to reduce myself to a physiological description, anyway?
My Italian pen pal once told me at the beginning of our correspondence that I seemed to be a very genuine person, which to him was a rare sort of person. I do not pretend to like myself very much, but then again that is the war between the spirit and the flesh. In short, I am beginning to see how people become cynical when they ignore their hearts and run from feelings, and how bitterness can develop under those circumstances. I am beginning to realize how all the clichéd statements I read and heard during my life until this moment are truly deep experiences that have become trivialized in their description in the language.
Falling in love was the same way. I was in a constant state of wonder. Then I was in a constant state of pain. And sometimes, they both occur at the same time. It makes me think of a quote from a film version of the story of a governess named Anna and the King of Siam, "Who would ever choose such exquisite pain?"
Let me just say in conclusion: I would. After all, life is too short to die, without having lived and loved.
The human psyche sure is fascinating. I've heard it said, "The furthest distance in the world is from the head to the heart." Now I begin to see the truth of that statement - when I'm overwhelmed with emotion and logical arguments are devouring each other in my head. It's amazing what I will give up or forget to maintain when my heart is in pain - such as eating or sleeping - and the reasons that I construct for denying myself certain comforts or distractions, such as this wonderful blog. Again, I apologize to my readers for not being here.
To a certain extent, I wonder how much of my physical pain is related to a sort of "cramping" from emotional gymnastics. There is such a thing as psychosomatic conversion, when physical symptoms appear with no known physical cause, such as painful sensations, blindness, loss of sensation in a limb, and so forth. The theory behind it is that severe emotional trauma can produce adverse physical symptoms in a phantom manner; that is, the stress manifests itself as a physical disease, when other disease indicators are not present. I studied this in my abnormal psychology class a couple years ago. I have experienced, in combination, tremendous physical and emotional pain these past few days. I hope all that crying has rid me of plenty of troublesome cortisone, however I know that science cannot explain everything for me, and why would I want to reduce myself to a physiological description, anyway?
My Italian pen pal once told me at the beginning of our correspondence that I seemed to be a very genuine person, which to him was a rare sort of person. I do not pretend to like myself very much, but then again that is the war between the spirit and the flesh. In short, I am beginning to see how people become cynical when they ignore their hearts and run from feelings, and how bitterness can develop under those circumstances. I am beginning to realize how all the clichéd statements I read and heard during my life until this moment are truly deep experiences that have become trivialized in their description in the language.
Falling in love was the same way. I was in a constant state of wonder. Then I was in a constant state of pain. And sometimes, they both occur at the same time. It makes me think of a quote from a film version of the story of a governess named Anna and the King of Siam, "Who would ever choose such exquisite pain?"
Let me just say in conclusion: I would. After all, life is too short to die, without having lived and loved.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Got some catching up to do...
Dear friends, I apologize for my absence. I could use the excuses that I was out of my element, that the weather was poor, that there were technical difficulties, or that I was sick in bed unable to move - but only the first of these is valid. Yes, I have been feeling poorly as you might have noticed from my last posting, but it has not incapacitated me. Therefore I humbly beg your pardon for not submitting my adventures and newly acquired knowledge on a regular basis.
That being said...
Where shall I begin?
My parents' 25th wedding anniversary is fast approaching, so I went searching for an appropriate gift on the Internet. I had seen a neat eco-friendly blog with a fashion side, and decided to look further into the source. What I found was a neat collection of fair trade items from around the world, handmade by local artisans - I couldn't have asked for a better inspiration. Not to mention that I also found the perfect piece: a Laotian treasure basket, woven in square form at the base but ending in a circular mouth and topped with a conical lid. At 6" by 6" by 6", it was the perfect dimension for trinkets and small presents, or perhaps candles, potpourri... the possibilities are limitless. Moreover, it was reasonably priced and I had enough funds to secure also a silken napkin to place inside, perhaps to wrap up those treasures. I hope my parents will be pleased and appreciate the thought I put into finding a meaningful gift, especially given that my father hails from Laos.
To be honest, my friends, I have been feeling quite melancholic and rather blue of late. Drinking spearmint tea has helped my nausea so that I may eat more successfully, and therefore spending late nights discussing dessert with a connoisseur friend of mine have been bearable. He gets excited about Rocky Road pancakes and Chinese-style rice bowls - now that's my kind of conversation! Actually, just about anything will help distract me from the pain and remind me of the good things that I enjoy. Living is not just about existing - eating, sleeping etc. - but also about growing and caring and doing good for others.
In that light I have been playing the piano, challenging myself with sight-reading and new pieces, learning a song in Vietnamese, and studying a violin concerto by Mendelssohn. When my playing becomes tolerably good, I might visit a convalescent home as I used to do, and play for the residents. In the meantime I must prepare my gifts.
At the moment, it's pouring rain outside, so my adventurous options are a bit limited. First stop, get me a pair of rubbers! No use slogging around soaking wet at school. Hmmm, I wonder what I'll find. Shall I dare to darken the doors of that American institution of spending they call 'the mall'? I never figured out why people call it that. Hey, that could be another etymology project! On second thought, maybe I'll see that Egyptian hairstylist at the mall again, haha. I wonder if he still works there?
I have a feeling today is an auspicious day. Makes me want to watch the koi fish in the rain at the Japanese Gardens. After all, life is too short to die...
That being said...
Where shall I begin?
My parents' 25th wedding anniversary is fast approaching, so I went searching for an appropriate gift on the Internet. I had seen a neat eco-friendly blog with a fashion side, and decided to look further into the source. What I found was a neat collection of fair trade items from around the world, handmade by local artisans - I couldn't have asked for a better inspiration. Not to mention that I also found the perfect piece: a Laotian treasure basket, woven in square form at the base but ending in a circular mouth and topped with a conical lid. At 6" by 6" by 6", it was the perfect dimension for trinkets and small presents, or perhaps candles, potpourri... the possibilities are limitless. Moreover, it was reasonably priced and I had enough funds to secure also a silken napkin to place inside, perhaps to wrap up those treasures. I hope my parents will be pleased and appreciate the thought I put into finding a meaningful gift, especially given that my father hails from Laos.
To be honest, my friends, I have been feeling quite melancholic and rather blue of late. Drinking spearmint tea has helped my nausea so that I may eat more successfully, and therefore spending late nights discussing dessert with a connoisseur friend of mine have been bearable. He gets excited about Rocky Road pancakes and Chinese-style rice bowls - now that's my kind of conversation! Actually, just about anything will help distract me from the pain and remind me of the good things that I enjoy. Living is not just about existing - eating, sleeping etc. - but also about growing and caring and doing good for others.
In that light I have been playing the piano, challenging myself with sight-reading and new pieces, learning a song in Vietnamese, and studying a violin concerto by Mendelssohn. When my playing becomes tolerably good, I might visit a convalescent home as I used to do, and play for the residents. In the meantime I must prepare my gifts.
At the moment, it's pouring rain outside, so my adventurous options are a bit limited. First stop, get me a pair of rubbers! No use slogging around soaking wet at school. Hmmm, I wonder what I'll find. Shall I dare to darken the doors of that American institution of spending they call 'the mall'? I never figured out why people call it that. Hey, that could be another etymology project! On second thought, maybe I'll see that Egyptian hairstylist at the mall again, haha. I wonder if he still works there?
I have a feeling today is an auspicious day. Makes me want to watch the koi fish in the rain at the Japanese Gardens. After all, life is too short to die...
Sunday, October 2, 2011
The Weft and the Weave
Being that I wasn't feeling all that great today, I stayed home after Mass and decided to pick up some knitting. What most people know as knitting is actually a type of weaving - interlocking threads to form a piece of cloth. The kind of weaving I do involves two straight needles (though I've recently ventured to learn how to use circulars) and one or two strands of yarn. Most knitting is made up of two basic stitch techniques, the knit stitch and the purl stitch. They are opposites of each other, and when used alternately or in combination they produce different textural effects.
In the past, usually I have made scarves and a stocking cap, no socks or mittens which require changing needles. I must confess that I only have one pair of straight needles and one pair of circulars... however, circular needles can also be used in place of straight knitting needles for large projects for which the material would be heavy, so the cord connecting the two circular needles could hold the weight of those stitches.
My adventure today was to combine the various patterns I had learned with some stitch variations that I made up on the spot. The thing is, when you use multiple patterns in succession you get a patchwork sort of look, not completely haphazard, but something resembling the different pieces of a quilt. Using variegated or self-striping yarn as well as two colors at the same time can make the same pattern look totally different than when only using a solid color yarn. At the moment, I'm just practicing so it looks mighty interesting with a dull beige colored two-ply worsted weight yarn.
Here's what I have so far: a few rows of brick ribbing (my own design) which is basically k4, *p4, k4*
and then the next row is p4, *k4, p4*. the row which follows is exactly the same pattern of stitches, to provide a contrast and stagger the "bricks". Then I went into a bit of straight garter stitch (k one row, p one row) for a few rows, and differentiated into the brick ribbing again, then switched to k2, p2 ribbing. Thinking of adding a raspberry stitch soon... after doing a section break (aka more bricks or a solid purl band in stockinette stitch on the RS - right side). The main idea when switching patterns is to make sure they start and end cleanly, but I'm also playing with how well they could possibly blend.
My upcoming knitting projects include a cowl in deep variegated blues, a heathered green textured purse (which is already knit but must be seamed and lined and decorated), and some sort of knit cap. I always dream up potential projects, whether they be knitting, sewing, painting, needlepointing, woodworking, calligraphy, watercolors, sketches, all sorts of things in which I might not be very skilled, but which make for nice hobbies. Then there is always something to do! After all, life is too short to die.
In the past, usually I have made scarves and a stocking cap, no socks or mittens which require changing needles. I must confess that I only have one pair of straight needles and one pair of circulars... however, circular needles can also be used in place of straight knitting needles for large projects for which the material would be heavy, so the cord connecting the two circular needles could hold the weight of those stitches.
My adventure today was to combine the various patterns I had learned with some stitch variations that I made up on the spot. The thing is, when you use multiple patterns in succession you get a patchwork sort of look, not completely haphazard, but something resembling the different pieces of a quilt. Using variegated or self-striping yarn as well as two colors at the same time can make the same pattern look totally different than when only using a solid color yarn. At the moment, I'm just practicing so it looks mighty interesting with a dull beige colored two-ply worsted weight yarn.
Here's what I have so far: a few rows of brick ribbing (my own design) which is basically k4, *p4, k4*
and then the next row is p4, *k4, p4*. the row which follows is exactly the same pattern of stitches, to provide a contrast and stagger the "bricks". Then I went into a bit of straight garter stitch (k one row, p one row) for a few rows, and differentiated into the brick ribbing again, then switched to k2, p2 ribbing. Thinking of adding a raspberry stitch soon... after doing a section break (aka more bricks or a solid purl band in stockinette stitch on the RS - right side). The main idea when switching patterns is to make sure they start and end cleanly, but I'm also playing with how well they could possibly blend.
My upcoming knitting projects include a cowl in deep variegated blues, a heathered green textured purse (which is already knit but must be seamed and lined and decorated), and some sort of knit cap. I always dream up potential projects, whether they be knitting, sewing, painting, needlepointing, woodworking, calligraphy, watercolors, sketches, all sorts of things in which I might not be very skilled, but which make for nice hobbies. Then there is always something to do! After all, life is too short to die.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Bonsai and Practicing Spanish
Just a quick aside before I describe the lovely Japanese Garden nook at my school...
Yesterday, there was lightning and thunder and I could see a vibrant double rainbow, all while the sun shone golden in the western sky! It was absolutely glorious. We had a few sprinkles throughout the day, but no real rainfall. Still, the cloudscapes were breathtaking.
At my school, there is a neat little area devoted to the cultivation of Eastern plants and landscaped in the style of a Japanese Garden with moss and stepping-stones arranged around a bowl-shaped fountain where little birds like to perch. It's one of my favorite retreats. Around the stairwell is built a platform with the facade of a tea-house; though it's not functional, it really is a beautiful centerpiece. The tea-house is framed by bonsai trees, smooth round stones, little shrubs and pagoda-style trickling fountains. A wall of bamboo curtains the garden from the next building and Chinese orchids grace the grassy path lined with larger rocks.
The reason I escaped there today is that we had to watch a very stressful film in my epidemiology class - so much anguish, death and suffering was indeed sobering. I needed my little dose of peace to balance it out. When we were allowed a break, I took my breather in a nice green spot.
On my way home, I met another man on the bus who spoke to me in Spanish. His first impression was that I would not understand him, or that I would not respond in Spanish even if I did understand. I was happy to undeceive him! We had a very simple, basic conversation in Spanish after that, and I was pleased to have found someone else with whom to practice speaking Spanish. That being said, people riding the bus sometimes ask the funniest questions. In this man's case, he asked why I wasn't married after finding out that I was unmarried. At my age, and still studying in school, I thought it would have been obvious. In any event, he was certain that I had a "novio" or boyfriend, before I even gave my answer. Amusing.
Well, at this rate I'm interested to see how the coming days will unfold. After all, life is too short to die!
Yesterday, there was lightning and thunder and I could see a vibrant double rainbow, all while the sun shone golden in the western sky! It was absolutely glorious. We had a few sprinkles throughout the day, but no real rainfall. Still, the cloudscapes were breathtaking.
At my school, there is a neat little area devoted to the cultivation of Eastern plants and landscaped in the style of a Japanese Garden with moss and stepping-stones arranged around a bowl-shaped fountain where little birds like to perch. It's one of my favorite retreats. Around the stairwell is built a platform with the facade of a tea-house; though it's not functional, it really is a beautiful centerpiece. The tea-house is framed by bonsai trees, smooth round stones, little shrubs and pagoda-style trickling fountains. A wall of bamboo curtains the garden from the next building and Chinese orchids grace the grassy path lined with larger rocks.
The reason I escaped there today is that we had to watch a very stressful film in my epidemiology class - so much anguish, death and suffering was indeed sobering. I needed my little dose of peace to balance it out. When we were allowed a break, I took my breather in a nice green spot.
On my way home, I met another man on the bus who spoke to me in Spanish. His first impression was that I would not understand him, or that I would not respond in Spanish even if I did understand. I was happy to undeceive him! We had a very simple, basic conversation in Spanish after that, and I was pleased to have found someone else with whom to practice speaking Spanish. That being said, people riding the bus sometimes ask the funniest questions. In this man's case, he asked why I wasn't married after finding out that I was unmarried. At my age, and still studying in school, I thought it would have been obvious. In any event, he was certain that I had a "novio" or boyfriend, before I even gave my answer. Amusing.
Well, at this rate I'm interested to see how the coming days will unfold. After all, life is too short to die!
Swedish Meatballs, Mmmm
Dear friends,
Today I experienced IKEA. That's right, it was my first time ever in an IKEA store!
I saw some pretty incredible stuff - well, maybe it wasn't that incredible but it was pretty cool. You see, I'm part Swedish myself, a side with which I'm becoming more familiar by the day. Most people know that IKEA is full of Swedish designers of home furniture, fixtures and appliances. Not everybody knows that their store, a showroom combined with warehouse, also includes a restaurant/cafe and mini mart full of ethnic foods.
Upstairs in the showroom, I sat on the beds, opened cabinet doors, fingered curtains, exclaimed over lamps and lanterns, laughed at silly pillows, read book titles off the shelves and generally enjoyed the scenery. In the restaurant, I ate the quintessential meal of Swedish meatballs, mashed potatoes and gravy with lingonberry jelly. It was delicious but altogether filling - I hadn't been that stuffed in a while! Downstairs I wandered among rows of sheet sets, differently shaped pillows, bathroom sink displays including a retractable round wall mirror, fuzzy bath rugs resembling Leon's hair from The Puzzle Place, hundreds of scented tealights and really cute Christmas decorations. The typical IKEA paper lanterns were everywhere, in addition to the lotus lanterns of which I am very fond - and downstairs they were dressed up for the holidays! One round lantern was striped with silver tinsel and another sported golden bows.
After checkout (and chocolate) I oohed and ahhed over recipe cards in the Swedish Market and enumerated the different varieties of pickled herring. Now, you have to understand that in my family, it was a Christmas tradition to eat marinated herring as an appetizer on Christmas Eve at my grandparents' house, along with smoked oysters and crackers, a Christmas Tree-shaped pimiento cheese dip, and lupine beans. Ah, memories. The cinnamon buns smelled mighty tasty, too, but again I could not have eaten another bite. Truly.
Now that's what I call living, haha. IKEA is another place I'd be delighted to visit once more (or fifty times, as the case may be). After all, life is too short to die.
Today I experienced IKEA. That's right, it was my first time ever in an IKEA store!
I saw some pretty incredible stuff - well, maybe it wasn't that incredible but it was pretty cool. You see, I'm part Swedish myself, a side with which I'm becoming more familiar by the day. Most people know that IKEA is full of Swedish designers of home furniture, fixtures and appliances. Not everybody knows that their store, a showroom combined with warehouse, also includes a restaurant/cafe and mini mart full of ethnic foods.
Upstairs in the showroom, I sat on the beds, opened cabinet doors, fingered curtains, exclaimed over lamps and lanterns, laughed at silly pillows, read book titles off the shelves and generally enjoyed the scenery. In the restaurant, I ate the quintessential meal of Swedish meatballs, mashed potatoes and gravy with lingonberry jelly. It was delicious but altogether filling - I hadn't been that stuffed in a while! Downstairs I wandered among rows of sheet sets, differently shaped pillows, bathroom sink displays including a retractable round wall mirror, fuzzy bath rugs resembling Leon's hair from The Puzzle Place, hundreds of scented tealights and really cute Christmas decorations. The typical IKEA paper lanterns were everywhere, in addition to the lotus lanterns of which I am very fond - and downstairs they were dressed up for the holidays! One round lantern was striped with silver tinsel and another sported golden bows.
After checkout (and chocolate) I oohed and ahhed over recipe cards in the Swedish Market and enumerated the different varieties of pickled herring. Now, you have to understand that in my family, it was a Christmas tradition to eat marinated herring as an appetizer on Christmas Eve at my grandparents' house, along with smoked oysters and crackers, a Christmas Tree-shaped pimiento cheese dip, and lupine beans. Ah, memories. The cinnamon buns smelled mighty tasty, too, but again I could not have eaten another bite. Truly.
Now that's what I call living, haha. IKEA is another place I'd be delighted to visit once more (or fifty times, as the case may be). After all, life is too short to die.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Wheels on the Bus
Yes, that's right, I ride the bus to school. And on the way, I meet the most fascinating people. It might sound strange, but sometimes it seems to me that when I ride the bus, I get the chance to meet people from all over the world. As if the whole of humanity takes that humble little journey with me. Some get on, others get off, and some sit beside me and share the ride. In each face, young or old, I see the Face of Christ.
Today I met a man because I smiled at him. It's amazing how much joy a simple smile will bring to someone else. He sat down a couple seats away and asked me how old I was (actually, he asked if I was 16). Then he tried to figure out my ethnicity - and this always brings laughs because people usually guess wrong the first time. This poor fellow went through a whole litany before I gave in and told him, and this is how it went: "Are you Filipino? Japanese? Mexican? Thai? Cambodian? Korean?..." When I enumerated my ethnic heritage, he exclaimed in amazement.
He ended up telling me about how he decided to change his life and do good, staying away from violence and focusing on his music. He remarked on how great it was that he turned his life around so he could meet someone like me after spending five years locked up. It turns out he's a songwriter currently working with the Island Def Jam Music Group. And, get this - he asked if I'd be interested in collaborating on his music video. Even said I could teach him some violin. Maybe I'll hear a "holler" soon...
On my return trip from school this evening, I met a remarkable young woman who is rising above a dysfunctional family situation and working hard to find a better life for herself and her family. Despite all the anger and pain resulting from years of emotional abuse, she's trying to do what's right and keep her brother from succumbing to a life of addiction. We had a very long and deep conversation (the length of the bus ride) about growing up with emotional abuse and how we dealt with various situations, including our take on the future. We talked about medication, psychotherapy and family dynamics. Having something in common with this lady brought us to a profound soul-to-soul recognition; she cried when I talked about a difficult time in my life because she knew exactly where I was standing on that day.
Thank You, Jesus, for these beautiful people, these little children of Yours whom You have placed in my path. Please continue to watch over them and convince them always of Your love.
Today I met a man because I smiled at him. It's amazing how much joy a simple smile will bring to someone else. He sat down a couple seats away and asked me how old I was (actually, he asked if I was 16). Then he tried to figure out my ethnicity - and this always brings laughs because people usually guess wrong the first time. This poor fellow went through a whole litany before I gave in and told him, and this is how it went: "Are you Filipino? Japanese? Mexican? Thai? Cambodian? Korean?..." When I enumerated my ethnic heritage, he exclaimed in amazement.
He ended up telling me about how he decided to change his life and do good, staying away from violence and focusing on his music. He remarked on how great it was that he turned his life around so he could meet someone like me after spending five years locked up. It turns out he's a songwriter currently working with the Island Def Jam Music Group. And, get this - he asked if I'd be interested in collaborating on his music video. Even said I could teach him some violin. Maybe I'll hear a "holler" soon...
On my return trip from school this evening, I met a remarkable young woman who is rising above a dysfunctional family situation and working hard to find a better life for herself and her family. Despite all the anger and pain resulting from years of emotional abuse, she's trying to do what's right and keep her brother from succumbing to a life of addiction. We had a very long and deep conversation (the length of the bus ride) about growing up with emotional abuse and how we dealt with various situations, including our take on the future. We talked about medication, psychotherapy and family dynamics. Having something in common with this lady brought us to a profound soul-to-soul recognition; she cried when I talked about a difficult time in my life because she knew exactly where I was standing on that day.
Thank You, Jesus, for these beautiful people, these little children of Yours whom You have placed in my path. Please continue to watch over them and convince them always of Your love.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Prayer and Fire!
On this most auspicious day of the 28th of September, I joined a gathering of Catholic youth at a local university. We began by praying the holy Rosary and singing a song of praise to God and then playing a game of "Do You Love Your Neighbor?" When I failed to find a seat, I decided to pick on people wearing black shoes. Footwear is a fallback for me, I guess. Thankfully I was not without a seat for the rest of the game... if truth be told, it was not very long because our icebreaker was interrupted by a fire alarm!
The whole group therefore migrated to an alternate location and began our discussion in earnest. The topic of the night was... you guessed it! - prayer. We looked at many Scripture verses from the Christian Scriptures to see what Jesus taught about prayer and we shared our experiences and insights with each other. It was a great way to enter into the culture of our faith together as young Christians, to encourage and lift up one another. We ended the night with the Newman Prayer - a style of group prayer in which all join hands and each person can voice their prayer intentions one by one, squeezing the hand of the person to the right to pass the prayers around the group in a circular fashion. After a few announcements and greetings, we headed home.
Shout-out to the folks tonight: Matt, Charlene, Steve, Adrienne, Violet, Greg, Jane, Daleth, Shannon, Lisa Marie, Omar, Johnny, Gerardo, Noel, Anna, Cristina, Sofia, Arthur, Patrick and anyone else I didn't get the chance to meet personally.
Will I be back? I certainly hope so.
I'm going to listen to a recording of Bach's Brandenburg Concertos before going to sleep.
The whole group therefore migrated to an alternate location and began our discussion in earnest. The topic of the night was... you guessed it! - prayer. We looked at many Scripture verses from the Christian Scriptures to see what Jesus taught about prayer and we shared our experiences and insights with each other. It was a great way to enter into the culture of our faith together as young Christians, to encourage and lift up one another. We ended the night with the Newman Prayer - a style of group prayer in which all join hands and each person can voice their prayer intentions one by one, squeezing the hand of the person to the right to pass the prayers around the group in a circular fashion. After a few announcements and greetings, we headed home.
Shout-out to the folks tonight: Matt, Charlene, Steve, Adrienne, Violet, Greg, Jane, Daleth, Shannon, Lisa Marie, Omar, Johnny, Gerardo, Noel, Anna, Cristina, Sofia, Arthur, Patrick and anyone else I didn't get the chance to meet personally.
Will I be back? I certainly hope so.
I'm going to listen to a recording of Bach's Brandenburg Concertos before going to sleep.
After all, life is too short to die.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Vietnamese Traditional Music
I grew up learning Western music and studying it in school, but it was the folk music of Vietnam which also pulled at my heartstrings. Today I decided to find out more about the principles of Vietnamese traditional music, its modes and patterns, its instruments and its spirit. I'm not talking about Vietnamese style popular music (that grew out of traditional pre-war music themes), but the original Dan Ca Viet Nam.
Vietnamese traditional music is often romantic and sentimental, as anyone who has heard it could tell you. Those wistful, longing tones and flowing melodies stir up nostalgia in the soul. The foundation of Dan Ca Viet Nam is in four words: chan, phuong, hoa, la. These are the qualities that every performer must weave into the music, studying it plainly and simply, "true"(chan) and "straight"(phuong). When playing the music for others it must be embellished in the spirit and emotion of the piece using flowers, "hoa" and leaves, "la". One can already see how poetic Vietnamese music can be.
Some of the principle instruments found in Dan Ca Viet Nam are:
Dan Tranh or Dan Thap Luc - a 16-stringed zither tuned in the pentatonic scale with a range of 3 octaves. It is typically unaccompanied or played with an orchestra of traditional instruments. The strings can be plucked or pressed and vibrated in various ways to create different sounds and emotions in the music.
Dan Bau - a single-stringed gourd instrument dating from 1770. This is the quintessential sound of Vietnam! A very emotional instrument that produces a plucking sound with a sustained note that can be varied in third and quarter tones by fingering on a thin stem of bamboo known as the spout. The single string is plucked using a sharpened stick of bamboo; the vibrations travel through the bamboo body and the gourd (Bau) placed at the base of the spout to which the string connects in order to amplify the sound. Dan Bau are typically tuned to a C-pitch, and though modern Bau are made of wood with an iron string, the original instrument was bamboo with a silken string.
Dan Nhi - a two-stringed fiddle played upright on the lap. It is traditionally made of rosewood with silk strings tuned in perfect fifths, and the specific notes can be altered by a gauge (Khuyet dan) at the base of the resonator (Bhat nhi). The head of the instrument, similar to the scroll of a violin, is called Thu dan and is attached to tuning pegs. The bow of the Dan Nhi is arced and stringed with horsehair between the two silk strings of the fiddle so that it can be played on either string depending on the pressure or both simultaneously.
Dan Ty Ba - a four-stringed lute instrument resembling the western guitar, but with a short neck and a pear-shaped rounded body which is flat on the string side. Ty ba is traditionally made from wootung wood. There are several frets on the soundboard and a longevity character is typically carved into the head where there are four tuning pegs. The strings were traditionally made from twisted silk and tuned in the intervals fourth-second-fourth. Ty ba can be played by plucking with a plectrum, producing the techniques of glissando, tremolo and arpeggio. It is a common instrument in traditional orchestras.
Dan Nguyet - a round lute instrument with a long hollow neck resembling the western banjo in shape. Its two strings are either tuned in fifths or fourths, again traditionally made of silk but can be made of nylon nowadays. Dan nguyet is named for the moon because of its shape and is known for its clear, loud tones, usually used to accompany a singer.
Dan Tam Thap Luc - a Vietnamese 36-stringed chordophone shaped like a trapezium and played by beating with tiny mallets of bamboo with felt tips. The instrument has a range of three registers tuned to the whole-tone scale, and can be played with a variety of techniques, a truly versatile instrument for solo or accompaniment.
Sao Truc - a flute most commonly associated with Vietnamese music, made from a hollow bamboo rod and pierced with six holes (the modern version with ten holes for more notes). Truc has an arc-shaped blowing hole and is known to represent the countryside in its four seasons.
Dan T'rung - a bamboo xylophone, popular in the Central Highlands of Vietnam. T'rung can have up to 48 bamboo tubes strung up in a vertical curve and played by striking with two short sticks. They are arranged in an uneven pentatonic scale ranging three octaves.
[for more information, visit: TiengHatQueHuong.com]
Well, I don't know about you, but I'm inspired! Before I die, I'd like to learn how to play one of these instruments, most likely the Dan Nhi or Bau. The sooner, the better; after all, life is too short to die...
Vietnamese traditional music is often romantic and sentimental, as anyone who has heard it could tell you. Those wistful, longing tones and flowing melodies stir up nostalgia in the soul. The foundation of Dan Ca Viet Nam is in four words: chan, phuong, hoa, la. These are the qualities that every performer must weave into the music, studying it plainly and simply, "true"(chan) and "straight"(phuong). When playing the music for others it must be embellished in the spirit and emotion of the piece using flowers, "hoa" and leaves, "la". One can already see how poetic Vietnamese music can be.
Some of the principle instruments found in Dan Ca Viet Nam are:
Dan Tranh or Dan Thap Luc - a 16-stringed zither tuned in the pentatonic scale with a range of 3 octaves. It is typically unaccompanied or played with an orchestra of traditional instruments. The strings can be plucked or pressed and vibrated in various ways to create different sounds and emotions in the music.
Dan Bau - a single-stringed gourd instrument dating from 1770. This is the quintessential sound of Vietnam! A very emotional instrument that produces a plucking sound with a sustained note that can be varied in third and quarter tones by fingering on a thin stem of bamboo known as the spout. The single string is plucked using a sharpened stick of bamboo; the vibrations travel through the bamboo body and the gourd (Bau) placed at the base of the spout to which the string connects in order to amplify the sound. Dan Bau are typically tuned to a C-pitch, and though modern Bau are made of wood with an iron string, the original instrument was bamboo with a silken string.
Dan Nhi - a two-stringed fiddle played upright on the lap. It is traditionally made of rosewood with silk strings tuned in perfect fifths, and the specific notes can be altered by a gauge (Khuyet dan) at the base of the resonator (Bhat nhi). The head of the instrument, similar to the scroll of a violin, is called Thu dan and is attached to tuning pegs. The bow of the Dan Nhi is arced and stringed with horsehair between the two silk strings of the fiddle so that it can be played on either string depending on the pressure or both simultaneously.
Dan Ty Ba - a four-stringed lute instrument resembling the western guitar, but with a short neck and a pear-shaped rounded body which is flat on the string side. Ty ba is traditionally made from wootung wood. There are several frets on the soundboard and a longevity character is typically carved into the head where there are four tuning pegs. The strings were traditionally made from twisted silk and tuned in the intervals fourth-second-fourth. Ty ba can be played by plucking with a plectrum, producing the techniques of glissando, tremolo and arpeggio. It is a common instrument in traditional orchestras.
Dan Nguyet - a round lute instrument with a long hollow neck resembling the western banjo in shape. Its two strings are either tuned in fifths or fourths, again traditionally made of silk but can be made of nylon nowadays. Dan nguyet is named for the moon because of its shape and is known for its clear, loud tones, usually used to accompany a singer.
Dan Tam Thap Luc - a Vietnamese 36-stringed chordophone shaped like a trapezium and played by beating with tiny mallets of bamboo with felt tips. The instrument has a range of three registers tuned to the whole-tone scale, and can be played with a variety of techniques, a truly versatile instrument for solo or accompaniment.
Sao Truc - a flute most commonly associated with Vietnamese music, made from a hollow bamboo rod and pierced with six holes (the modern version with ten holes for more notes). Truc has an arc-shaped blowing hole and is known to represent the countryside in its four seasons.
Dan T'rung - a bamboo xylophone, popular in the Central Highlands of Vietnam. T'rung can have up to 48 bamboo tubes strung up in a vertical curve and played by striking with two short sticks. They are arranged in an uneven pentatonic scale ranging three octaves.
[for more information, visit: TiengHatQueHuong.com]
Well, I don't know about you, but I'm inspired! Before I die, I'd like to learn how to play one of these instruments, most likely the Dan Nhi or Bau. The sooner, the better; after all, life is too short to die...
Asante Artwork & Squash Soup
You're probably thinking, "What on earth do those two things have in common?"
Such is the beauty of my everyday life!
First of all, let me explain. I had a hankering for soup today, and lo and behold there was a butternut squash all pureéd and pre-mixed with chicken broth for making soup... I scouted my ingredients and set to work. My hands had been idle in the kitchen for far too long, and the process of dicing red pepper, slicing white onion and sauteéing them in the pan was delightful. Then I went hunting in the herb cabinet for seasonings, deciding quickly on nutmeg and tarragon leaves... Mmmmm. I dumped the veggies in a food processor and blended them with some medium-firm tofu and the spices, adding this mixture to the soup over heat and stirring it until smooth. What a delectable aroma then arose from the pan! A pinch of salt, and my soup was complete.
I sipped my soup from a large bowl while munching on white popcorn, the kettle-cooked variety, with apple-raspberry juice to drink. Ah, life is beautiful when one can cook!
Now then, about the Asante. After eating such a delicious bowl of soup, I was inspired to visit a local art exhibit - three, in fact - showcasing African textiles and cultural artifacts from Ghana as well as an African-American quilt exhibition. Let me just say - wow! The colors and combinations were phenomenal, the intricacy was exquisite, and every meticulous detail of the work was staggering. I saw a few familiar patterns, yet the sheer diversity of techniques and styles of cloth were far beyond my experience.
I noticed, as I closely observed the detailed embroidery and weaving work of African textiles, that there were several patterns seeming to be pictograms of various animals, both birds and mammals. Some of the pictograms resembled designs I had seen before in Mayan weaving from Guatemala, in particular the butterfly pattern embroidered on woven cloth. I guessed at the different animals - a camel, a dog, a peacock, an eagle and some other bird-like forms. On some cloths made for wearing like a blouse, I observed cross-stitchery forming flowers and elegant radial designs. On others, varying embroidery techniques were used with variegated floss. Some of the larger cloths contained a proliferation of threads forming a sort of mosaic in a more abstract pattern, having a more symbolic nature than literal. It was definitely evident that color in these designs carried great significance.
A second exhibit being held nearby celebrated the talented weavers of the Asante people of Ghana, who are well-known for their beautiful and elaborate Kente cloth. Kente has a history as a ceremonial and royal garment, worn by both men and women only on special occasions. Legend has it that the first weavers of Kente cloth copied their technique from a spider weaving its web. Kente has not only a royal implication but also spiritual and political significance, depending on the woven pattern or adinkra symbols in the design.
For an idea of the exhibit on Kente cloth, Click here. To find out more about Kente and its symbolism in African culture and daily life, read more here.
The third exhibit contained over twenty quilts made by African American artisans, featuring numerous fabric designs, portaits of African families and creative layouts. I was most moved by the quilts picturing a mother and father lovingly holding their child. These were decorated with beads and tiny gems in a way seamless with the colors of the quilt, seeming to naturally belong there. Another elaborate quilt was adorned with textured wooden buttons in different shapes and with various markings. In the center was a single ivory ornament in the likeness of a mask with its elongated head. I could have wandered for hours gazing at the beautiful handiwork of all the quilts, which means I will have to return soon.
Such is the beauty of my everyday life!
First of all, let me explain. I had a hankering for soup today, and lo and behold there was a butternut squash all pureéd and pre-mixed with chicken broth for making soup... I scouted my ingredients and set to work. My hands had been idle in the kitchen for far too long, and the process of dicing red pepper, slicing white onion and sauteéing them in the pan was delightful. Then I went hunting in the herb cabinet for seasonings, deciding quickly on nutmeg and tarragon leaves... Mmmmm. I dumped the veggies in a food processor and blended them with some medium-firm tofu and the spices, adding this mixture to the soup over heat and stirring it until smooth. What a delectable aroma then arose from the pan! A pinch of salt, and my soup was complete.
I sipped my soup from a large bowl while munching on white popcorn, the kettle-cooked variety, with apple-raspberry juice to drink. Ah, life is beautiful when one can cook!
Now then, about the Asante. After eating such a delicious bowl of soup, I was inspired to visit a local art exhibit - three, in fact - showcasing African textiles and cultural artifacts from Ghana as well as an African-American quilt exhibition. Let me just say - wow! The colors and combinations were phenomenal, the intricacy was exquisite, and every meticulous detail of the work was staggering. I saw a few familiar patterns, yet the sheer diversity of techniques and styles of cloth were far beyond my experience.
I noticed, as I closely observed the detailed embroidery and weaving work of African textiles, that there were several patterns seeming to be pictograms of various animals, both birds and mammals. Some of the pictograms resembled designs I had seen before in Mayan weaving from Guatemala, in particular the butterfly pattern embroidered on woven cloth. I guessed at the different animals - a camel, a dog, a peacock, an eagle and some other bird-like forms. On some cloths made for wearing like a blouse, I observed cross-stitchery forming flowers and elegant radial designs. On others, varying embroidery techniques were used with variegated floss. Some of the larger cloths contained a proliferation of threads forming a sort of mosaic in a more abstract pattern, having a more symbolic nature than literal. It was definitely evident that color in these designs carried great significance.
A second exhibit being held nearby celebrated the talented weavers of the Asante people of Ghana, who are well-known for their beautiful and elaborate Kente cloth. Kente has a history as a ceremonial and royal garment, worn by both men and women only on special occasions. Legend has it that the first weavers of Kente cloth copied their technique from a spider weaving its web. Kente has not only a royal implication but also spiritual and political significance, depending on the woven pattern or adinkra symbols in the design.
For an idea of the exhibit on Kente cloth, Click here. To find out more about Kente and its symbolism in African culture and daily life, read more here.
The third exhibit contained over twenty quilts made by African American artisans, featuring numerous fabric designs, portaits of African families and creative layouts. I was most moved by the quilts picturing a mother and father lovingly holding their child. These were decorated with beads and tiny gems in a way seamless with the colors of the quilt, seeming to naturally belong there. Another elaborate quilt was adorned with textured wooden buttons in different shapes and with various markings. In the center was a single ivory ornament in the likeness of a mask with its elongated head. I could have wandered for hours gazing at the beautiful handiwork of all the quilts, which means I will have to return soon.
After all, life is simply too short to die.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Mallard Ducks and Canada Geese and... Pumpernickel?
Today was one of those days when I took the definition of living to a child's level - experiencing the wonder, the elegance, the beauty (and the quirks!) of nature. I got called out for a playdate with my six-year-old brother, an honor I readily enjoy.
I had the bright idea to take the little fellow to the duck pond and spent a good two hours following him around as he collected various feathers, stirred the waters with a stem of leaves, and generally terrorized the water fowl. To be fair, he was respectful enough not to chase after the ducks, though he did try to sprinkle them with water on numerous occasions. There were plenty of other visitors to the pond, most of whom toted plastic bags of bread. We came across a young couple with their toddler son tossing slices of pumpernickel into the waters, which were eagerly snapped up by scores of Mallard ducks. However, I must say that the white bread was still apparently more desirable by those finicky eaters.
It was a prime opportunity to observe the birds up-close and personal, so I pointed out all the brightly colored and glossy feathers on the drakes versus the ducks with their little purple stripe but otherwise neutral coloring. Then we noticed a white duck, slightly larger than most of the Mallards, who seemed to travel in a pack of Mallard escorts who were roughly the same size (and girth). If that were not enough incentive to break out in peals of childlike laughter, there was a flock of pigeons constantly circling the pond and swooping at great speed without warning. My little brother ducked each time and cried out, "Air raid!"
The crown sighting of the day were a pair of Canada geese, swimming in tandem to and fro across the pond. Their gracefulness was worthy of awe, indeed - I couldn't tell you if I actually stood agape for any amount of time, but I definitely followed their elegant movements with appreciation. It reminds me of a favorite childhood movie, Fly Away Home, which is about the true story of some Canada geese which were rescued by a schoolgirl and raised domestically until they were of migrating age. She taught them to fly using a specially designed aircraft with the help of her father and accompanied the birds on their first southward migration trip into the United States. As I watched the two larger birds glide across the water, my little brother turned to me and said, "I think they're a couple."
Awwww.
I hope many more moments like this will follow. After all, life is too short to die.
I had the bright idea to take the little fellow to the duck pond and spent a good two hours following him around as he collected various feathers, stirred the waters with a stem of leaves, and generally terrorized the water fowl. To be fair, he was respectful enough not to chase after the ducks, though he did try to sprinkle them with water on numerous occasions. There were plenty of other visitors to the pond, most of whom toted plastic bags of bread. We came across a young couple with their toddler son tossing slices of pumpernickel into the waters, which were eagerly snapped up by scores of Mallard ducks. However, I must say that the white bread was still apparently more desirable by those finicky eaters.
It was a prime opportunity to observe the birds up-close and personal, so I pointed out all the brightly colored and glossy feathers on the drakes versus the ducks with their little purple stripe but otherwise neutral coloring. Then we noticed a white duck, slightly larger than most of the Mallards, who seemed to travel in a pack of Mallard escorts who were roughly the same size (and girth). If that were not enough incentive to break out in peals of childlike laughter, there was a flock of pigeons constantly circling the pond and swooping at great speed without warning. My little brother ducked each time and cried out, "Air raid!"
The crown sighting of the day were a pair of Canada geese, swimming in tandem to and fro across the pond. Their gracefulness was worthy of awe, indeed - I couldn't tell you if I actually stood agape for any amount of time, but I definitely followed their elegant movements with appreciation. It reminds me of a favorite childhood movie, Fly Away Home, which is about the true story of some Canada geese which were rescued by a schoolgirl and raised domestically until they were of migrating age. She taught them to fly using a specially designed aircraft with the help of her father and accompanied the birds on their first southward migration trip into the United States. As I watched the two larger birds glide across the water, my little brother turned to me and said, "I think they're a couple."
Awwww.
I hope many more moments like this will follow. After all, life is too short to die.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
World of Color - Mood Magic
A field of red poppies, an emerald city, a yellow-brick road... you can almost hear the strains of "Over the Rainbow". Color is a fascinating concept. It's everywhere - pigment or light, hues and complements, warm and cool, vibrant and calm. Just what is it about color that causes all these mood shifts and "sets the scene"?
I decided to go more in-depth and investigate what is known as the psychology of color.
Most people have cultural ideas associated with color from an early age, and these ideas vary across cultures. Then there are universal ideas about color based on sensory perception of the environment; symbolism of color is often closely tied to nature. For example, red reminds us of fire, and blue is reminiscent of water or the sky.
It turns out that the way we perceive color is based on a reflection of light off of an object; whatever wavelengths of light are reflected form together the color we see. Since light is a form of energy, color can affect us as humans just like different types of energy. This science of color is known as chromodynamics. Pretty cool, huh?
Let's look at each color's personality. There are two major color families, warm and cool - another way of classifying light energy which is counterintuitive... after all, infrared (red) has a lower frequency than ultraviolet (purple), while the color red is said to be the warmest while blues, greens and purples are said to be cool colors. Interestingly enough, oranges and yellows are classically known as upbeat, cheery and motivational colors (high energy). Reds seem to take the extreme high road, earning an almost reckless reputation - to some people, red means passion, but it is also known to increase blood pressure! On the other hand, blues are often touted as calming tones, though they have a melancholy side along with purples. Greens seem to be the more neutral color, balancing a slight warmth (the yellow component) with a calming coolness (the blue component).
Now for the really fun stuff... Scientists don't just study how colors affect people and tell them to paint their houses accordingly. There is an alternative healing science known as chromotherapy or colourology which was used even in ancient times by eastern civilizations such as Egypt and China. According to this practice, the color red was used to increase circulation, stimulating both the body and mind. Orange was used to treat illnesses of the lungs, while yellow was associated with purification of the body. Blue helped to relieve pain and was used as a blanket treatment for any illness. Indigo (a deep hue between blue and purple) was a skin treatment. Imagine that! (Hospitals and nursing homes, I sincerely hope you are taking notes.)
In Indian Ayurvedic medicine, there are seven chakras, or the sacred centers of a person's body, each of which is associated with a particular color. The usages for these colors are closely aligned with the ancient Chinese methods, but are also further developed and specify which chakra can benefit from a particular color to help certain bodily or psychological functions.
Who knew colors were so powerful? Well, I'm definitely going to do my research before I paint the house again, and I'll think twice about all my future color choices... but I will probably end up relying on intuition and my personal reactions to color anyway. No need to fritter away time trying to find the perfect color, right?
I decided to go more in-depth and investigate what is known as the psychology of color.
Most people have cultural ideas associated with color from an early age, and these ideas vary across cultures. Then there are universal ideas about color based on sensory perception of the environment; symbolism of color is often closely tied to nature. For example, red reminds us of fire, and blue is reminiscent of water or the sky.
It turns out that the way we perceive color is based on a reflection of light off of an object; whatever wavelengths of light are reflected form together the color we see. Since light is a form of energy, color can affect us as humans just like different types of energy. This science of color is known as chromodynamics. Pretty cool, huh?
Let's look at each color's personality. There are two major color families, warm and cool - another way of classifying light energy which is counterintuitive... after all, infrared (red) has a lower frequency than ultraviolet (purple), while the color red is said to be the warmest while blues, greens and purples are said to be cool colors. Interestingly enough, oranges and yellows are classically known as upbeat, cheery and motivational colors (high energy). Reds seem to take the extreme high road, earning an almost reckless reputation - to some people, red means passion, but it is also known to increase blood pressure! On the other hand, blues are often touted as calming tones, though they have a melancholy side along with purples. Greens seem to be the more neutral color, balancing a slight warmth (the yellow component) with a calming coolness (the blue component).
Now for the really fun stuff... Scientists don't just study how colors affect people and tell them to paint their houses accordingly. There is an alternative healing science known as chromotherapy or colourology which was used even in ancient times by eastern civilizations such as Egypt and China. According to this practice, the color red was used to increase circulation, stimulating both the body and mind. Orange was used to treat illnesses of the lungs, while yellow was associated with purification of the body. Blue helped to relieve pain and was used as a blanket treatment for any illness. Indigo (a deep hue between blue and purple) was a skin treatment. Imagine that! (Hospitals and nursing homes, I sincerely hope you are taking notes.)
In Indian Ayurvedic medicine, there are seven chakras, or the sacred centers of a person's body, each of which is associated with a particular color. The usages for these colors are closely aligned with the ancient Chinese methods, but are also further developed and specify which chakra can benefit from a particular color to help certain bodily or psychological functions.
Who knew colors were so powerful? Well, I'm definitely going to do my research before I paint the house again, and I'll think twice about all my future color choices... but I will probably end up relying on intuition and my personal reactions to color anyway. No need to fritter away time trying to find the perfect color, right?
After all, life is too short to die.
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