uninhibited

aiden scout gamble

this is joy.

this is uninhibited, untouched, unspoiled childlike true joy.

yesterday I watched aiden eat a cup of chocolate chocolate chip gelato and she did it with such excitement as the liquidy goodness covered Aiden from head to toe. some of it actually did make it in her mouth! the "ice cream" was a reward for going in the poddy; kara and I made sure she made the connection. And we all laughed heartily. aiden would say something that would cause her to laugh (though it was something of gibberish) and we would laugh with her. we sat at a table at Central Market by the "wee" and laughed and laughed. aiden did get to play some too. but we mainly laughed. for no reason other than the fun and joy of laughter.

being an aunt makes me quite happy and does give me joy. on the birth of his nephew, vincent van gogh created one of the most beautiful paintings (in my estimation), inspired by new life. (Vincent, as christened after his uncle, was the son of van gogh's brother theo and was born on my birthday though over a hundred years earlier). it is the blooming almond branch on a peaceful sky-blue back ground. i saw the original in amsterdam and was awe struck by it's beauty. there is such richness in the blue; somehow it captures the essence of peace. the almond branch seems as if it is literally coming to life and will reach out of the painting towards you. i see things so holistically that it is so difficult for me to pull out the small details of the painting to give it justice. this painting i felt. at a time when nothing could touch me, nothing beautiful nothing ugly, this painting did.

the colors of this copy do not give it justice. seeing it in its originality is the only way to really experience the painting.

love of things british

movie review pt. 2- i saw Amazing Grace last night and i was deeply impressed with this film. impressive writing, acting, directing, writing, oh, and did i say writing? i love british wit! i love the characters of wilberforce and of pitt as portrayed in the movie. to take a stand against slavery during its height and to risk everything to do it.... what remarkable fortitude and perseverance. wilberforce's faith was inspiring too. the movie evidentally just barely scrapes the surface of how deep his faith was and how much God had changed him.
i learned last night from Mrs. T that it was the clapham sect, a group of dedicated evangelicals, that gathered around these men to end slavery. i admire their lives and their causes. they did much to change british policy, foreign policy, rule in india, missions, education, poverty, child labor, etc. they were writers, scholars, businessmen, bankers, clergy. (fun facts: one of the men was the grandfather of florence nightingale and another the great grandfather of e.m. forster). they sacrificed money and health. they took a stand against injustice. and they changed their world for the glory of God.

the movie and the lives of these men and women made quite an impression on me. i have had life goals for a while but not to the point or purposefully defined. they, wilberforce and the clapham sect, inspired me. i know it is a broad statement but it gets to the heart of my call: to see lives changed for the glory of God.

three novels in three weeks

this will be a smallish post as i don't have much to say. three novels in three weeks. jane eyre, villette, and agnes grey; it was a victorian /bronte fest! wuthering heights was too dark for me at the time in my life when i read it, so i was turned off to the brontes. seeing the latest masterpiece theatre version of 'jane' was enlightening. at tea with mrs. taylor just one day later, she read to me the last lines of 'jane'. i then had a heightened interest and my taste buds had been whetted with charlotte's thoughtful and insightful words. i picked it up the next day and finished it three days later. on completion of the book i was thirsty for more charlotte, so i picked up a copy of 'villette'. there is something in charlotte bronte that intrigues me- her writing style and her subjects, her characters and their convictions. jane; true innocence, true convictions, true faith. and miss lucy snow; weathered but not hardened, faithful and teachable, thoughtful protestant and open to seeing true faith in Christ in someone outside of her own 'church'. i find it amazing that charlotte even writes on the subject (romanism vs protestantism) 1. being a woman 2. being a woman in victorian britain.

anne bronte's 'agnes' was quite different though had the same thoughtful convictions and morals. anne comes across as less mature to me, the obvious younger sister. character development seemed understated and incomplete, especially with the men in the book. the portrait of agnes' hero seemed to be based on here say. in the conversations, he asks her questions; rarely does he talk. we don't get to see him enter into hardship or watch him as he deals with the snobby miss murrays' (agnes' pupils). and the proposal was rather flat to me. anne seemed to be attempting some of charlotte's wit (when mr. weston says that he is looking for a woman in the area but doesn't let agnes know she is that woman), but it comes across sappy and contrived. the book was sweet and entertaining but seemed to lack the depth i saw in charlotte's works.

what next? maybe some mary ann evans...

blogging rivendell

this is my induction into the world of blogging. as a "writer" (or at this time, "poser") i thought it would be a good exercise for my mind, skills, etc to take a go at blogging. so, here it goes.

the title? Tolkein's Rivendell encapsulates something (or things), some place, i long for and will search for while on this terra firma. wisdom, healing, growth, authority and power, leadership, discipleship, restoration, beauty, truth, peace and loveliness... only a few of the words that, in my estimation, simply describe Rivendell, or rather what i see in Rivendell and desire from this life.

when i lived in a "little" borrough/big city in Europe, i named my room Rivendell. it was sanctuary. in that tiny attic space barely large enough for one, let alone two adults, i escaped to books, novels, theology, apologetics, children's literature, and several fantastical worlds. it was where i met Bilbo and Frodo and Gandalf for the first time. i decorated my tiny abode with sheer curtains, a few art pieces i had gathered from my travels, a tiny lamp with a lovely red shade, and one single plant, an ivy that flourished and grew throughout my year there.

in one sense, the sense that overwhelmed all others for me during my time there, outside of my door was in no way lovely to behold. when on Christmas morning the first bells i heard were the bells of the prostitutes (rung to alert their pimp when a customer is out of hand) and not the bells ringing from the ancient towers to commemorate the day, i knew i was no longer in "kansas". there was a prevalent soft drug industry which "softened the way" for the very aggressive hard drug industry; there were refugees who could only get jobs in those industries selling on just about every street corner; hopeless story after hopeless story of those refugees; the street kids who couldn't (or wouldn't) stop destructive behaviors; the cries of the broken screaming for mercy; much mockery of my faith; sex "industry" that really more looked like slavery; the lost and discarded whose arms were scarred by suicide attempt after suicide attempt; the sex offenders who groped for free; the lies; the pride; poverty and starvation; the mother wailing for her children as they were taken away because she had no home; the murders not too far from my door; the smell of urine on every street corner; the woman dressed in the finest clothing crawling around on the ground like a dog, blood streaming from her nose, desperately seeking that last coke rock for the next hit; the addicts you thought were on the road to recovery but found wandering aimlessly like zombies through the crowds. this was the brokenness around me, the smell, the taste of.... death. it is no wonder Room #2 was christened after a fantastical place.

in that room and in that place, i began the quest for goodness, truth and beauty. my time there has marked me, changed me and so i endeavor to search for those things. my life, i hope, will be a testimony of that quest. the voyage, the adventure, will be recorded some through these pages. let me now don a scarlet scarf and an Indiana Jones hat, and step out to seek and find that place where elves and dwarfs and man and hobbits meet.