We are faced with so much input that it is often difficult to process the different messages that we receive. This city is so full of pain, lonliness, beauty, and opportunity that choosing one avenue is a heavy task. On the one hand, we are drawn to familiar surroundings and familiar people. We end up seeking people that remind us of Portland, places that remind us of a home that we have left behind. On the other hand, we are falling in love with our new neighborhood. It is a place so unfamiliar and strange, and at times we feel very much like outsiders, but at other times we are welcomed in with open arms. The pendulum swings back and forth on almost a daily basis as we try to discern that ever-elusive "calling."
I can sit on the stoop outside my building for hours and just watch the world go by. The old men outside the bodega on the corner fill the air with their alternating deep laughter and heated arguments over beers and dominoes. The teenagers strut by in their groups, talking on their cell phones and trying to look tough but really just reminding me of myself in those days. The breezes carry by whisps of roasting chicken one minute, then curry the next, followed by the fresh garbage waiting for pickup on the sidewalk. Families with kids, free-spirited college students and decrepit homebums all pass my glance within the space of minutes. I really do love this place but I wonder whether this is where we need to be.
We have been offered a place to stay for a while by a kind-hearted pastor in Brooklyn. If the financial need arises, we may need to take him up on the offer. I am still waiting to hear back from Nyack College on a faculty position, and I am still hoping and praying that this will be the job. If we end up in Brooklyn, it will take us far from Inwood and I doubt that we would ever return here, at least in the forseeable future. So if the job comes through and we can find a place here, perhaps we will stay. I have to rest in the fact that God is calling the shots and I need to fast from fear and indecision for the moment.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Monday, July 16, 2007
The MoMA and the rose
I visited the Museum of Modern Art and was surprised by my reaction. I walked into the massive building with its five levels. I decided to start at the top and work my way down. By the time I reached the fifth floor my eyes were already tearing up. It was like when I first walked into a church and felt God for the first time.
The first piece I saw was a Picasso called Girl Before A Mirror. The next thing I knew, I had tears running down my cheeks. After that it was one emotion to the next. I reached the fourth level and saw my beloved Starry Night by Van Gogh. It came to life with each defined stroke. Lines appeared that I had never seen before on the prints. With every sparkle of the city lights, there was a house unlit and cold. As the stars exploded into the sky, so did his heart onto his bleeding canvas. I dried my face and moved along.
Every painting told me its story and each sculpture which said “Do not touch” extended its arms to be embraced. Next I found the Warhol section and found myself laughing and comforted by his eccentric sense of humor. Through the five levels I found peace in the sorrow and strength from the struggle. I was able to connect my tears to the many people in my life who are battling depression, drug addiction, anxiety, lust, poverty, exhaustion, love, war, longing and loneliness. I thought of the prisons and the projects and the many stories that I’ve heard on the streets of Portland. I felt the oppression of women and the physical pain that we share as I saw the portrait of Frida Kalho hanging on the wall with all of her hair cut off and lying to her side.
In the midst of all these emotions, my mind brought to me a memory which will forever be engraved. It was the image of Ken Loyd, my pastor, teacher and friend, stopping to touch a thorn on a rose bush. Brian, Ken and I were walking to the Crow Bar for our last “meeting” and in mid-sentence he stopped and said, “How beautiful!” I looked over and saw roses and thought, “Yep, another Portland rose,” but he was touching the thorns. They were massive and sharply pointing in every direction. Ken is someone who always finds beauty in the thorn before even noticing the rose. It’s the thorn that allows us to feel.
As for my experience at the museum and in my 27 years, allowing such pain into my life refines me along with the people around me. We carry each others’ burdens and allow tears and makeup to stain our shirts. We must look into the eyes of our homeless and hug a prostitute and ask for nothing in return. We need to be here for our soldiers when they return, and no longer be afraid of talking about death and the people we’ve loved who have passed on. We must find laughter in the drought. Let’s sing and dance when no one else is. Let our joy be contagious, but remember there’s no joy without pain. We cannot shut our eyes because it hurts to look. There is no rose without its thorn.
-Kelly
The first piece I saw was a Picasso called Girl Before A Mirror. The next thing I knew, I had tears running down my cheeks. After that it was one emotion to the next. I reached the fourth level and saw my beloved Starry Night by Van Gogh. It came to life with each defined stroke. Lines appeared that I had never seen before on the prints. With every sparkle of the city lights, there was a house unlit and cold. As the stars exploded into the sky, so did his heart onto his bleeding canvas. I dried my face and moved along.
Every painting told me its story and each sculpture which said “Do not touch” extended its arms to be embraced. Next I found the Warhol section and found myself laughing and comforted by his eccentric sense of humor. Through the five levels I found peace in the sorrow and strength from the struggle. I was able to connect my tears to the many people in my life who are battling depression, drug addiction, anxiety, lust, poverty, exhaustion, love, war, longing and loneliness. I thought of the prisons and the projects and the many stories that I’ve heard on the streets of Portland. I felt the oppression of women and the physical pain that we share as I saw the portrait of Frida Kalho hanging on the wall with all of her hair cut off and lying to her side.
In the midst of all these emotions, my mind brought to me a memory which will forever be engraved. It was the image of Ken Loyd, my pastor, teacher and friend, stopping to touch a thorn on a rose bush. Brian, Ken and I were walking to the Crow Bar for our last “meeting” and in mid-sentence he stopped and said, “How beautiful!” I looked over and saw roses and thought, “Yep, another Portland rose,” but he was touching the thorns. They were massive and sharply pointing in every direction. Ken is someone who always finds beauty in the thorn before even noticing the rose. It’s the thorn that allows us to feel.
As for my experience at the museum and in my 27 years, allowing such pain into my life refines me along with the people around me. We carry each others’ burdens and allow tears and makeup to stain our shirts. We must look into the eyes of our homeless and hug a prostitute and ask for nothing in return. We need to be here for our soldiers when they return, and no longer be afraid of talking about death and the people we’ve loved who have passed on. We must find laughter in the drought. Let’s sing and dance when no one else is. Let our joy be contagious, but remember there’s no joy without pain. We cannot shut our eyes because it hurts to look. There is no rose without its thorn.
-Kelly
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Keeping the slow pace
Ok, so I realize it's been a while and I'm not keeping up with the updating thing very well. It has been a very busy almost-two weeks. We have been travelling all over the city, figuring out areas that we might want to live in and just being tourists. We have also been searching vigorously for jobs, and I am happy to say that I already have a few interviews coming up next week. So I can sincerely report that things are going well.
Everything in New York is a challenge. The simplest tasks, like going grocery shopping or going to the post office, are monumental undertakings that require a great deal of time and energy. Of course, we do live in the most densely populated neighborhood in the city, so that doesn't help much. It is very easy to become impatient here, to want things to happen before their time. I suspect that is part of the reason for the stress level here. It forces us to step back from situations, live in the moment and celebrate the small victories here and there instead of always trying to plan out every moment of the future. It is somewhat ironic to me that life in the city requires more of this type of disposition, but I am learning something new every day.
We are still looking for our "nitch" as far as the direction 141-NYC will take. Right now we are still in the dream stage and it is important that we do not try to move too fast. My most sincere hope is that our vision will remain sharp and we will be able to see the small things in the mass of humanity.
Everything in New York is a challenge. The simplest tasks, like going grocery shopping or going to the post office, are monumental undertakings that require a great deal of time and energy. Of course, we do live in the most densely populated neighborhood in the city, so that doesn't help much. It is very easy to become impatient here, to want things to happen before their time. I suspect that is part of the reason for the stress level here. It forces us to step back from situations, live in the moment and celebrate the small victories here and there instead of always trying to plan out every moment of the future. It is somewhat ironic to me that life in the city requires more of this type of disposition, but I am learning something new every day.
We are still looking for our "nitch" as far as the direction 141-NYC will take. Right now we are still in the dream stage and it is important that we do not try to move too fast. My most sincere hope is that our vision will remain sharp and we will be able to see the small things in the mass of humanity.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
The Arrival
The day that we have been awaiting for so long has finally arrived -- we are here in New York City. Actually we have been here for a few days, but have been so busy getting settled in that there has been little time for pursuits such as updating blogs!! The journey out here was long, sometimes painful and sometimes joyful. We traveled through 14 different states and saw many different sides and faces of this country. However, at this point I can truly say that there is no place I would rather be than right here in New York.
Our neighborhood of Inwood is a busy, hectic place, yet also has a warmth one would not expect to find in this city. We have met amazing people from the moment we set foot in the neighborhood, and I belive that this will be a great home base for us to start our explorations. Yes, it's a long, long way uptown, but that gives us plenty of time to enjoy the air-conditioned coolness of the subway trains before stepping out into the heat and humidity of the New York summer.
The city is alive with potential and we are ready to dive in a tap into that energy. At the same time, it is an immense, intimidating and lonely place that can make one feel very small. I feel even more confimation now that we have come to the right place. The small and the insignificant can be ignored so easily in this fast city, and our calling is to keep our eyes open and find them, wherever they may be.
Right now everything is an open book and a blank slate. We are waiting and searching, and hope to have news soon about the direction that 141-NYC will be taking. Now is the time for our infancy in this city, to learn and to take it all in and find out where we fit. Please continue to pray for us and leave comments or drop us a line, we would love to hear from everyone out there.
Our neighborhood of Inwood is a busy, hectic place, yet also has a warmth one would not expect to find in this city. We have met amazing people from the moment we set foot in the neighborhood, and I belive that this will be a great home base for us to start our explorations. Yes, it's a long, long way uptown, but that gives us plenty of time to enjoy the air-conditioned coolness of the subway trains before stepping out into the heat and humidity of the New York summer.
The city is alive with potential and we are ready to dive in a tap into that energy. At the same time, it is an immense, intimidating and lonely place that can make one feel very small. I feel even more confimation now that we have come to the right place. The small and the insignificant can be ignored so easily in this fast city, and our calling is to keep our eyes open and find them, wherever they may be.
Right now everything is an open book and a blank slate. We are waiting and searching, and hope to have news soon about the direction that 141-NYC will be taking. Now is the time for our infancy in this city, to learn and to take it all in and find out where we fit. Please continue to pray for us and leave comments or drop us a line, we would love to hear from everyone out there.
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