still standing.

this is me in front of my home. and i am going to write tonight. after I put dawson and hudd to beddy by. "Senna, you forgot the milk." I hear Hudd say for his dino cookies we just made. I must go.

i can't wait to start dancing on these keys.

Sienna the Second

found this on James Harrison's Flicker with the caption "Last train in NY and I could've sworn it was Sienna Howard." I took me by complete surprise when i saw it cause it looked exactly like me but I havn't seen James this summer and I defintely DON'T have that delicious purse. I almost looked behind me in my room, when I saw the picture, to see where that purse was. (ha)

wanted to share. cause it really is crazy how we resemble.

the two-way street

The z-score equals x minus the mean divided by the standard deviation. Don't forget to convert it to the area percentage and subtract it by .50. Make your bell curve, fill in the difference and then convert it to a a percentage again.

I think that was it. These words were scrambling through my fragile mind this morning as I waited at the bus stop and later walking briskly through the math lab to check out a graphing calculator. It was a morning that concepts were becoming friends and allowed me the 8 hours rest I needed last night. They didn't scare... only in this strange way but most happy way... excited me. I'm learning the language. This math language or at least I think I am. The score of my test will bare witness tomorrow morning. I'll wait patiently while sitting outside on this sunny Chattanoogan day at Panera, sipping my cold water and waiting for the bus to take me to my oh so precious job.

I didn't think I'd get it. I wasn't supposed to.

I had applied early February and then remembered I had to take a math course during my summer. my application was already in process though so I called New City, the internship I had applied for, and they said they'd see what they could do but the class would interupt the middle of my day and since I'd be working with inner city kids, the middle of their's as well. That was the last thing the kids needed. They needed consistency and they need stable and devoted people in their lives. If I came and went throughout their days it would only contribute to the instability of their lives at home.

I understood. I wanted people in their lives that could do what it didn't look like I'd be ale to. I was sad but started applying for service jobs around Chattanooga for the summer. It was long, tiresome, and humbling to let go of the internship and talk to managers of greenlife, hair go-go and more. I respect these people and I saw the lure in these jobs as well. even wanted one that I'd found. But I couldn't get the kids out of my mind. I wanted to learn, engage, be stretched to a capacity that would not only begin to understand their lives but in some distant dream be someone they'd remember and just possibly learn something from too. I wanted this two-way street.

So I started praying. I told these things to God and asked him if he'd please make a way but if not, then give me peace in something else and provide the interns for New City with a similar longing to be alongside these children and the issues in their lives.

Then I got an interview.

They knew my hours were complicated but they wanted to know more. At this point I was pretty settled on doing something different this summer. I needed to take this math class and I had no other choice but to place that first in my priorities. The kids had to come second. It was the sad reality. During the interview though my longing reopened and their questions spilled endless avenues in me of a sincere desire to be a part of New City Fellowship and their outreach to the inner city kids of Chattanooga. I started remembering Mercyships and the Children's Program I'd worked with in Cambridge. Ministry was back in the front lines of my mind and after being asked New City's questions and listening to my answers so quickly slip out, every other job I'd been looking at, fell into a distant and faraway 2nd. I remember calling Michael with this passion reopened adn just asking him to pray.

"I want this job so bad and I just realized it again. Please pray."

3 days later I got a letter of acceptance. it was in the middle of exams and a whirlwind of planning, packing, and moving to Vincent and Kiko's house in St. Elmo for the summer. The acceptance seemed to land in the middle of it all with this unexplainable peace and wave of disbelief. I stopped. Everything loud around me grew quiet and still and that feeling of utter joy and hope came over me and all I could hear was something very pretty. I knew my prayers had been answered and I knew I had just been accepted into one of the most challenging summers yet. But I took it. With fear but without reservation.

Somehow they had worked it out for me to come in at 12, after my class, and be there everyday for the kids 2nd half of the day and then work after care for the 6-10 kids until the evening. After this week when my class ends, I'll start coming in at 10 and accompaning teh reading and community classes I already teach I'll get to go with them to their rap and step classes they have in the morning and we'll learn together.

I tell people honestly, I always have, when I'm asked how I like my job and it's not often an "I love it." but this summer and right now that's my honest answer.

I come home exhausted, lugging my timbuk2 bag behind me and looking nothing like I did when I left 7am that morning. I can't seem to get through to devin and andrew, to kathlindria and Amador. Genesis tries me everyday with her strong will and center of attention disposition. Darryl's sad and quiet, and way over-emotional for his age and I'm slowely (very slowely) earning his trust. Destiny is cruel to Christine without end and has a stubborn side that is looking unbreakable. My voice is fading adn my throat hurts within a hour of being there. I'm know I'm only going to get more tired.

But at the end of the day and during, it's exactly where I'm supposed to be and I treasure it. Kids arn't easy. They test everything. Trust is one of the hardest things to earn. Understanding on every side, this two-way street, is a long and sometimes endless road. It's all consuming.

And I'm so grateful that God has given me just enough energy for each passing day. The bus is here. The kids are waiting. I must go.

~dear chelsey and me with her new volkswagon!~

michael kendall is amazing and will kendall runs an extreamly close 2nd.

My days are fresh finally. I know it's only been a month but it's been one brand new with people, buses, routes, bus drivers and so much figuring out. I am exhausted, grateful, and ready for a change. The clock has been ticking and nearing closer and closer to that point of no more.

My much needed change pulled into the parking lot, where I work, friday afternoon around 5pm. He was darker from the sun, wearing a hot v-neck tshirt splashed in pink, yellow, and purple (urban outfitters!) and a flashy new pair of ran bans. it was June 6th - a pretty friday. a much awaited friday. a happy friday. excited friday. a friday where all those words meant exactly what they're supposed to. it was the friday all fridays try to be and all fridays should be. it was my fresh friday.

Finally they were here. That car and that boy.

It was a joint effort between will and michael. Will's in Rwanda and Michael's on his way to Prague... so Will gave the permission and the keys and Michael made the detour and drove to me.

I was sapposed to have Michael's car when he went to Prague but it's needed a nap for a long time so will said I could have his. I am so humbled and so grateful to be back in a car...driving with my windows down and my foot to the pedal, stopping at whatever quick stop I need to and meeting jaime and chelsey where they are. And now i want you to know 3 things. First, that driving is a priveledge and is a beautiful thing to be treasured, adored, and discovered. Take a deep breath as you pass the blue house with yellow shutters and those gas stations with scary prices, take a grateful breath as you breeze pass the dear couple selling vegetables, the broken stop sign and the assuming yellow lights. notice the man taking out his trash and appriciate the beautiful Mexican resturants. and turn up your music. don't waste it by worrying and rushing.

second, know that will kendall is a dear and that his casual way of sharing and taking care of people has been an immeasurable example to me and one that though has humbled me... it has ministered and comforted me in a most extroidinary way. he may see it as a small thing but it has so pushed me to want to be this way with people that I know and care about. to take care of them. to give to them. to go out of my way and make myself uncomfortable in order that they be ok. it's a beautiful way to live... because it's what we were made for. to serve and to follow the example of our savior. he saved us and we must heed that action of giving.

and this last little thing is for only one dear friend of mine...

Margaret Drew, you are one very lucky girl.

that car and that boy.

note:
his hot shirt.
those new ray bans.
the "H" on the steering wheel that says I have a honda!
the piece of glass and rock around my neck that michael made me.

my sunshines.

(there's an accidental heart on scott's knee!)

(that's coke)

"Causin' me all sorts of sins"

The bus is my new normal. or sort of.

It feels more like normal than the wealthy homes I babysit in or the restaurants I eat at or the types of cars I get to borrow. I'm tired of it but at the same time I'm comfortable and grateful for the social and cultural experience. I don't want to sound like these people are just an experience or "an education" but it's just not a situation I'd readily put myself into. But I'm in it and I'm no longer tense and constantly unsure but comfortable and confident, exhausted and blessed by the life stories (all packed into 5 or 10 minutes each) I'm told throughout my days.

Some days I wish I were invisible though. The other day a lady got on at 45th and got off at East 3rd and talked a steady streak for the entirety of her 30 minute route. She talked of her abusive father, the drugs she tried, and the men that have hurt her to whomever would listen,

"You know my daddy attempted murder on me when I was 16, 17, and 18 and he's burnin' in the fires of hell right now for it." She switched topics rapidly.

"I got $5000 cause a man hit me walkin' down Lee Highway the other day."

"I set an X-rated movie on fire...heck! that's what I do for God and his Almighty."

"I can't quit smoking but I've put my cigarettes in my dead husband's casket." (what?)

She went on and on and I went back and forth into muffled laughter or looks utter devastation and horror.

Yesterday a sane woman talked to me for 20 minutes before the bus and during, giving God all the glory and praise that she was back in school at 56 and had 17 grandchildren and 6 great grandchildren. "Those men call me sometimes - men from my past - and they beg me to come back and I say 'NO! I got Jesus now and I don't need you." She looks at me and says without a blink, "Once you know the good there ain't no reason to go back to the evil."

"Amen." I say.

Cavin was upset for the second morning in a row when I got onto my 7:15am bus today. He was happy to see me, reassuring me that he loved me always and has been looking for me (he's not quite all there in the head) and then went on ranting about how the bus fares have increased and bus stops have changed. "I won't be thrown around!", He mutters. He repeats things constantly, says it over and over, each time looking at a different bus rider. I had the phone to my ear when I stepped on the bus, finishing my routine morning conversation with mom and listening to her prayer for my day. I waved a silent good morning to Cavin and he waited until I hung up to start his rant.

"Why they changin' things on us?! They best know I won't be thrown around. I went to the meetin' but still they're changin' the stops. I won't be thrown around! They're causin' me all sorts of sins. I'm so angry, I ain't movin for them.
They're causin' me all sorts of sins... all sorts of sins!"
He got louder with every repetition.

I nodd... wanting to tell him to quit being a brat and the world in actuality doesn't revolve around him and his needs even if he did go to the meeting, but the bus driver was already doing that. She was a female and I've decided I like female bus drivers best. They don't talk too much and when they do, they're hilarious and not afraid to tell people to 'shut up'. They're sassy but motherly and I feel endeared to them for it.

This bus and I have a love/hate relationship. It's my new normal and doesn't frighten me like it did some weeks ago. It has caused me numerous times of embarrasment and too many occasions of stress. It has made me less socially awkward and more city smart. and it has instilled in me the freshest appreciation for the day when I will have my very own means of transportation.



me with the car a family I babysit for let me borrow last weekend.
(I was in heaven.)

i was born 21 years ago.

I'm content and spread out at a little circular table in Panera waiting for my big brother to come pick me up. My bus from New City was 30 minutes late and I missed my connecting one to St. Elmo but brother is dear and said it would be no problem to pick me up at after his work. It's actually a pretty quaint place to be stuck and after a 12 hour day packed with buses, people, an exam, training lectures at New City, and working in an inner city neighborhood I'm ready for a little circular table time with me and my book waiting for brother. My head hurts and my hair is knotty but my fingers are itching to write and I'm not even sure what to nail down. Classical music is playing and my head starts to feel a bit relaxed. A girl has just passed me giggling with her boyfriend. She had on this pretty urban outfitters sort of salsa dress with dark hair and loose curls and she's so pleasant to look at. But as she walks outside she's staring at her reflection in the windows, overly conscience of her beauty and it sort of ruins her. I could observe all evening long.

But I should focus on something for you. These last two days have been a whirlwind of culture and experience. I'm either at Chatt State or New City or on a bus trying to get to one of them. I can't figure out whether to tell you about the friendly man named Walter, that greets me every morning at 7:15 when I board my bus on the corner of Beulah and 54th. "'Morning Aubren, how you doin darlin'?" he says. Or do I tell you about my sassy and southern math professor who, although she teaches one of the most diverse classrooms in race and social class that I've seen, she doesn't see in color. Jessica is the same as Moneka. Moneka is the same as Roger and Roger the same as Bow. We're equal in her eyes. But then I want to tell you how successful I've been at mastering the bus system and how it's given me such a dose of confidence and joy and made me feel so much older and capable. Or maybe how this internship that I'm doing with inner city children is a job that is both beautiful but incredibly scary, rewarding but exhausting. I know it will be one of the best things I do but I hardly feel capable. I can't wait to begin and be on the front lines of children's lives. I could open up any of those...

but really I just want to tell you about my birthday morning, my 21st birthday morning in Sumter, South Carolina...

It all started on Thursday afternoon when Chelsey and Joanna decided they were going to take me to Sumter for my 21st to see my Michael. After my math class I raced home with the kind of energy that words like "road trip", "birthday", and "Michael" evoke. We drove 6 hours...6 hours of changing radio stations, off and on rain storms, too many cigarettes, sips of sweet tea, and the warmth of friends in the front seat taking you away for the weekend.

The weekend was gold and it began with Michael on his bike waiting for us on the highway outside his neighborhood the night we showed up, and peddling back home full speed, trying to race our car.

But my morning was my favorite.

Michael woke me up at 10am on the 17th and as I walked out of my room there was a sign right above the doorway that said, "Welcome to the Birthday Zone" with green streamers hanging down through the doorway. My tired morning smile burst through. I walked through the streamers and the floor was sprinkled with a rainbow of colors. Balloons were everywhere and it made me stop, excited out of my mind, and look around. Hanging from the mantle was a huge picture of me that read "Happy 21st Sienna". He and his parents had decorated the house for me and I couldn't believe it. Michael was in the kitchen and told me to come on... I walked in, more colors sprinkled all over the floor, and an elaborate breakfast set for me at the table complete with a heart cut out of my toast with a fried egg inside. Three glasses sat at the top of my plate, a glass of grape juice (my favorite), a glass of milk and of course, a cup of coffee. Before he sat down he pushed play and as one of our favorite songs started playing, warm tears began falling down my morning cheeks. I cupped my face in my hands and tried to contemplate this amazing moment that I had just been given from a boy so eager to show me his love. I was so overwhelmed with happiness and priviledge. and I've decided the morning is one of the best times to be surprised. And I can't believe I have such an amazing man. Really, I can't.

In Sumter, South Carolina, this past weekend I got to turn 21 and my boyfriend is truly amazing and even though I have a million other stories to tell you, they pale in comparison to that morning in Sumter.

post rainy air

I'm sitting at the bus stop with my knees pulled up to my chest. I close my book. My bus is 4 minutes late so I lean back and try to make myself comfortable. I pull out my wallet and stick my student ID in the front page of my book, What is the What, so I can pull it out quickly and get on my bus free of charge.

I stop reading and look around. Three buses have passed but none are mine. There's a boy sitting next to me with an over sized graffiti jacket on - a jacket I've only dreamed of pulling off. He's not holding anything and he's staring at the construction across the street. I stop reading to look like he's looking. and I'm tempted to ask if he's waiting for the 28 too. I want to talk to him because he looks nothing like me and our worlds are so foreign to each other. I start thinking about it, how many different kinds of people there are. I'm fascinated. suddenly sitting out on a bench at the bus stop I don't feel scared, maybe a little bit out of place, but not scared. but he's not interested and he won't look at me.

Someone sits across from me and when I catch their gaze I'm not sure if it's a man or a woman. They stare back at me and now I'm a little scared and wonder why my bus is 6 minutes late. It's never that late and now I'll be that student who walks into class ten minutes after the professor's started lecturing.

It's ok though. I'll keep looking for now.

Two older men walk briskly beside the bus stop and I wish they were catching the 28 too. But they keep going, oh so briskly, with their goofy grins as they talk to each other with their humorously short jogging shorts on. They are so jolly.

and I know why.
it's early.
and they're awake.
they're not missing anything.

They're surrounded by their community and walking along busy streets with post rainy air hitting their morning cheeks and producing that goofy grin. I smile at them without realizing it.

I love this rainy air and this scary bus stop.
I'm so happy where I am.

the brand new's of life.

these are my friends. two are left in Chattanooga with me this summer but the rest have gone away, spreading out over many states and returning in the fall for our mountain. Dan is off to French School, Kyrie to Maryland and then to Philly, Drew to someplace I can never keep track of, Michael to Sumter and then to Prague, and Jonathan to Ashville, I think. Chelsey is here and Bethany too but we each have jobs and plans that though we will see each other, it will be very different from our intimate mountain life. A good different though. A liberating and invigorating different. The summer is so new and I'm just now beginning, after two weeks of lovlieness and maybe a bit of laziness, to find a much needed routine and purpose for the next four months. It's exciting this morning as I've begun to map it all out.

It all started this morning when I missed the bus.

My 8am math class this summer is an hour away by bus so I catch the 6:35am and take it downtown, switch to the 28 and take that 30 more minutes to Chattanooga State. I arrive 30 minutes before class but that's ok. I'm not a girl prone to boredom. Writing and reading never tire. This was my first morning that I started my bus route and I woke up around 6:15 scared to death. I can always do it, really I can. I've made it to some far away places and each time I made it on time and I made it by myself. I caught that plane and I made it to the right bus. I hailed the taxi and when I got lost, well I've figured it out. I've asked or called, found the right answer and turned myself around. In the end I've always made it back home usually with a headache from the stress but I made it. there and back. This morning wasn't one of those mornings. I didn't quite make it there but what I did make was a resolve. A resolve to get up bright and early tomorrow in time to make my coffee and put on something more presentable then a hanes v-neck and jeans, take a shower and catch that 6:35am bus. I've called the company and I know exactly where I need to go, specially since I was there this morning for half an hour, and now I know the right time as well.

I can do this. This morning I was scared, frustrated and almost paralyzed by intimidation. (I’m just going to be honest here. I’m not quite sure how to be anything else.) I know it’s just a bus ride, I know it’s just a math class, I know it’s just a route and a walk a couple blocks away to the bus stop but to me it’s scary. To me it’s something brand new. And even though I’ve done many brand new's in my life, each one comes with nerves and fears that have the potential of making me want to curl up and die. Maybe that’s a bit dramatic but please hear the reality in this. Despair and self pity are an easy route to take, easier than the St. Elmo and Amnicola Highway ones but they are not the right routes. Not at all. I can get on them and they will consume me and I won't get off at the right place. They will hinder me from entering into the riches and provision of my Heavenly Father.

Michael gave me something to read last night and in one part I found this and it was perfect.

“No sin is worse than the sin of self-pity, because it removes God from the throne of our lives, replacing him with out own self interest.”

In every change he faithful will remain. In every change he’s perfecting us and using us as a tool for his kingdom. As Psalm 87:7 says, “All my springs are in you.” Our bodies are his temple and he will use my life this summer for his glory. I just need to cooperate. My summer is so new and so much has already changed that I thought would stay the same. Michael suddenly had to leave a month and a half before he was supposed to, I put all my belongings in the wrong storage at school and it was donated and now most everything I own is gone, and then this morning I missed my bus. I have things to complain about but then I would be failing to keep my Jesus on the throne in my life, trusting that he has a perfect plan. Lean on me, trust me...I’m taking everything away until you do, I hear him say.

This morning had the potential of being hopeless. But I walked back home from the bus stop feeling defeated and stupid and went straight for my bible. I feel a peace. I feel a resolve. I feel a purpose in it all. I am thankful for all my brand new’s and tomorrow I will be up early and I will catch my 6:35 bus.

somewhere between.

It's the summer time again. just like that. In the midst of my sophomore year I thought it would never end but toward the end I knew it was all catching up and time had begun slipping through my fingerstips. Somewhere between the falling autumn leaves and new summer air it slipped. and I couldn't stop it and I couldn't pause it. All I could do was resign. It wasn't a despair but almost a curious resigning. Where had all the time gone? Where had all the studying and stress gone? Where had the sunsets and early mornings gone? Where had Kyrie gone?

enjoy you moment. enjoy those people around you. those ones you love.

Kyrie left yesterday. She left for Maryland and then off to Philly for art school and no, she has not died but no longer will she live on my hall, in my room, and on my bed. She'll no longer be a simple shout away and I won't be able to spot her over by the windows at 1pm in the great hall with eric. I won't be calling her anymore asking when she'll be back or if she wants to go to pancakes in the morning at the kaufmans or just sleep in. No more calls of "where are you? i'm coming" or "do you want to go to starbucks for a caramel machiotto?" It's the day to day I'll miss. It's the knowing she's in arm's length and the comfort that offered. It's the feeling that I can never overdo my welcome with her, that I'll never tire her listening ears. It's that simple yet profound knowledge that someone knows you completely and yet they love you in spite of it. they get you. and they don't need you to speak all the time either. you can relax.

kyrie's dear to me.

and yet I very much see the good at the same time. There's this huge hole that she left yesterday, almost like part of me was chopped off when I hugged her and let her walk away. There's no pretty way to say it. and yet this hole even now has begun to fill, knowing that it had to happen sometime and knowing that Kyrie is so beautiful and where she is going is only going to strengthen that beauty and as silly as it sounds, I have to share her. I want to share her. I want her to be sprinkled over the lives of others, the cities and schools of someplace else because I want others to experience the calm and consistent, the patient and persevering love that she gave me. I will miss her blond tossled hair, her warmly lit room, and her constantly creative eye. But I can let her go at the same time so unbelievably grateful that I was given my time with Kyrieanna and that I know her better then I ever before. And really... it makes me grateful for those still around me and eager to spend time with them. to love.

to listen to kiko as she talks about the girl who cuts herself and needs a home in her foster agency. to go with chelsey when she picks out her puppy tomorrow. to treasure every dear conversation with michael on the porch in the evenings.

they're here. and i love them. so dearly.

and the truth is that God does give and then at times, he takes away, sometimes even people. but I'm realizing that if we just try and look around, not even that intensely. but if we just look he's taking care. he knows us so well, hemmed us in behind and before. what a freeing truth this is and sitting on my bed tonight in this new and charming house I get to call my own, tucked pleasantly inside st. elmo, I know that truth has given me peace. he's got me. he knows me. and he's taking care.

lookout kids returns(!)
ashdays is closed now. or at least till may 3rd.
kyrie and i are back on our mountain... and lookout kids returns.

click here.

bouquet of bananas
I woke this morning, reminded by the dinging text of kyrie that I overslept and needed to leave in 20 minutes. Destination ----> Easton. Hair appointment and gift card time. We had to spend a bunch of money that was given us before tomorrow, when we leave for our mountain. I dropped Kyrie, Annie, and Emma off at Oliver Michael's, a new place we keep hearing about but havn't tried yet. They're all young in there with short and spunky hairstyles. Bright red highlights and sparkly studded details in their ears and noses. I turned to go, to shop around, confident I'd left my sister and 2 friends in good hands. The vibe was good.

I got to my store at 9 and walking up I knew before I pulled on the stubborn door it wouldn't budge. Saturday morning. 9am. It wasn't going to be open. 10am. I had an hour. I walked back to the red van and reclining the seat back a bit, I sat and rolled the windows down. the wind was strong and the sun warm. It was pleasent.. so very pleasent. being warned last night that Harry's epilogue was disappointing I left it in the green van at home to wait patiently for tomorrow's journey. I looked around in my friend's car. between the two seats upfront lay a book. the spine was pointed down so i pulled it out and read "The Speckled People - a Memoir of a Half-Irish Childhood." I opened it. the first line read "When you're small you know nothing."

I like short sentences. and I like simple ones too.

It had me... all the way to the fourth chapter. It's written from the viewpoint of a young boy whose mother is German and father Irish. A speckled child, they call him. He knows 3 languages but is forbidden to speak English. He talks about his mother, the details of his grandfather, the firmness of his father, and the critical watching eye of the public. There's this part i read this morning though that i so enjoyed. I decided to read it outloud to myself, twice. This is how it goes.

"I knew that my grandmother Berta was an opera singer and that my grandfather Franz once went to listen to her sing at the state opera house in Krefeld, and because everyone else was sending her flowers, he decided to send her a bouquet of bananas instead, and that's how they fell in love and got married."

A bouquet of bananas. Why does that sound so much lovelier to me than flowers?

It just does.

i love dorks!

pause for a second. well 4 minutes really... and watch this. notice his broken arm and the boy in the back. (it's so great!!!)

5 talbot, search "asian backstreet boys" on youtube and click the first one.

far, far above thy thought
his counsel shall appear,
when fully he the work hath wrought
that caused thy needless fear.
leave to his sovereign will
to choose and to command:
with wonder filled, thou then shalt own
how wise, how strong his hand.

give to the winds thy fears, Paul Gerhardt, 1653


there was a brown paper package waiting for me when I got home this week.

actually, it was a box.

I had been waiting for it for weeks now but it's taken so long I forgot I even placed the order. so it came as a pleasently late surprise. some weeks ago the John Piper website had a 2 day sale - all their books were 5 dollars each. every single one. big or small. 5 dollars. that was the deal. so i ordered one called "taste and see". it's filled with 140 meditations on "savoring the supremay of God in all of life." I've wanted this book for awhile now so I ordered 3 copies. now i gotta figure out who to share the love with...

maybe you'll get lucky.

this hymn snipet was in the 3rd meditation, the one i read today. i read it over and over again... loving the string of words and savoring the meanings of each.

summer in the city





the city is different from my small cambridge. maybe it could be my home one day. for now I love cambridge's smallness and warmth and my moutain's coziness and clouds. i do know that you can get used to anything though. you can adapt even when you think it's impossible and really "not you"... the unfamiliar can become familiar rather quickly. you just have to submerge yourself and not complain. something about that place, philly&newyork, makes me want to dive in though...later on... dive into constant walking and dirty-hurting feet, dive into the starless nights, sidebyside living... the hustle. the bustle. dive into the world of many worlds... dive into the creativity and independence. it's scary, really scary but it's always those situations that are the most exciting and make the best stories later on.

(kyrie and I went to philly and new york for this last week to meet up with brae and our dear friends, mikey and dan from school. it was reallyreally wonderful. good friends are life giving.)

little lev






















i had to share this. i found it on my big sister's flickr. you should click that to check out her stuff! this little boy is russian and his name is lev. i really like those three letter names. p-a-x, l-e-v... they're sweet and sharp. I got to meet little lev last week when I visited brae and his lips are even more precious in person! brae slid lev into the red stripped sling and we walked around philly for a bit... around the block and past the playrground... then into a coffee shop to sit and talk. lev stares at everything. content to watch. one of the walls was covered in local art and his eyes were glued to it. when he would cry a little brae would pick him up and take him up to the wall and tell him about the different pieces. i loved watching them together.

emma watson's spunk
I'm reading it right now. sitting inside an air conditoned sugar magnolia, inbetween wandering downtown customers and bites of my shrimp eggroll from last night's takeout. I break after every chapter, savoring it's excitment and mystery... sad that it will all soon be over. Kyrie finished last night and I feel sorry for her. In desperate hopes to encourage her I told her she still has reading it to her kids to look forward to one day but she snapped "well that won't be FOR 10 YEARS!%#$&*@%$!!!!" So I read slowely. chapter by chapter. bit by bit. taking in the scenes and anticipating the secrets. Chalice has got the idea. she reads it slowly too.

I just found this shot of these little harry and hermione wanna-be's... found it on some site where they were dissing her outfit. but I say it's got spunk and spirit and that it's just dang cute. why wear heels when there's converse?

my little sister
kyrie. kyrie anna ruth howard, actually. she has two middle names because my mom and papa couldn't agree on which one to choose. Anne is his mom. Ruth is her's. So Kyrie shares the names of our grandmothers, the only damien howard child who has a "family" name. It's a pretty sweet combination though. I know Lowen adores it and I've been jealous once or twice... but my daddy didn't do too poor a job on mine ;)

This past school year I got to live with Kyrie Anna Ruth. the same room. same clothes, same sink, same laptop, hairdryer and sometimes bed when the winter wind blew unlovingly through the window above her. it was all shared. all of it. I had missed her the year before when I was gone and even the summer I got back I still missed her... You can't just jump back into someone's life. It takes time. It takes conversations. It takes understanding. arguments. listening. patience. It takes living with them in their everydays and finding a routine again.

she's really amazing though. for big reasons and little ones too. I love how level headed she is counteracting my stress. I love how she writes and doodled on our bathroom wall at school things like "life is just one damn thing after another" with a big smiley behind the toilet or the thanksgiving break countdown on the wall beside it... brightening up our stressful weeks with wit and color. I love the cards she makes and the photos she develops and then clothespins to the twinkle lights hanging above the bed. I love that she's started to cook and we go to the grocery store, stocking up on basil, mint leaves, limes, and healthy goodness! The girl is creative and it spills into everyother area of her life. She doesn't leave it out when she talks and she doesn't leave it out when she writes a simple thank you note. It's inspiring and refreshing to live with someone like this. someone who cares.

A couple weeks ago she made these shirts and painted this pot for a summer camp she was in charge of. I really like them and how she just busted out with the spray paint, big hefty gloves, and stencils printed from the computer and came out with bangin' shirts!

she's cool and I'm real grateful she's my playmate this summer.

(i'll be lovin you)

until the dolphin flies & parrots live at sea -stevie wonder























kyr and I were in our first wedding yesterday... our linnea is married off. linnea shelton is now linnea taylor. pretty little name, I think. the day was perfect, the sunset, insane. the breeze, heaven sent. the hairspray, faithful. the heels, managable. the twinkle light lanterns, precious. the cupcakes, de-lish. and the bride, beautifully calm.

oh, and i caught the bouquet!

a dang fun scene

I love this scene.
I love this song.

I'm not gonna lie. :)