"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...

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.

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!

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...

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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'.

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.

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.

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.

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...

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.

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!

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.