And then there was sun...

beautiful, bright, and yellow sun.
And the swell of spring and possibility
made breathing a little easier--
a little lighter
if only for awhile.

I met with the book club a few nights ago and discussed Margaret Atwood's novel The Handmaid's Tale. The "tale" is nothing short of disturbing. In the book, a religious sect establishes a community of fear, entrapment, and hopelessness. The main character, whose name is never mentioned, a fact that strongly reinforces the degradation she has recieved in society, often struggles not only with her environment and unfortunate situation, but also with the danger of her own will. Atwood is also commenting largely on gender roles and political power. I still don't have it all figured out in my head, but I can give the author props for her storytelling. The work is saturated with imagery, symbolism and goregous language. In fact, (this won't give too much away) the women in the book are acutally denied the right to read. Atwood's ability to excercise her impressive vocabulary is ironic in light of the limitations of her characters. Favorite passage:

What I need is perspective. The illusion of depth, created by a frame, the arrangement of shapes on a flat surface. Perspective is necessary. Otherwise there are only two dimensions. Otherwise you live with your face squashed against a wall, everything a huge foreground, of details, close-ups, hairs, the weave of the bedsheet, the molecules of the face. Your skin like a map, a diagram of futility, crisscrossed with tiny roads that lead nowhere. Otherwise you live in the moment. Which is not where I want to be. (143)

I think maybe a balance has to be accomplished between wishing for future perspective and living in the moment. We don't know what God has planned, but to never anticipate or prepare for anything would probably make us all incredibly idle. Or maybe it would make us all incredibly reliant on the Him...'tis a mystery. That's something that's been difficult lately. Lord, what do you want? When we don't know....I guess we just take a leap...

maybe??

Letter to a Friend

Dearest Harry,

I feel the urgent need to extend my deepest condolences for shamefully neglecting you. With graduation and a move on the horizon, the past few months have felt rather like a blur. Not to mention, I've been preoccupied with, shall I say, more scholarly endeavors. You know, papers, tests, and the like. Your adventures at Hogwarts and the Quidditch World Cup took a prolonged back-burner position in my life, and for that I am...terribly...sorry. I do hope you will accept my apology. I promise to resume reading with relentless fervor.

Yours truly,
Lacey

P.S. I do hope Draco Malfoy grows a sense of humor, poor chap!

Thing I hate most about running: Wedgies!

Mere mortal ponderings

Just finished Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking. The material is absolutely heart-breaking. The non-fiction piece investigates the year following the sudden death of her husband, John. Much of the book consists of Didion working things out in her own head. The reader comes to face to face with a very personal grief process. Although the book is focused solely on death, mourning, and how individuals deal with both, her writing is beautiful throughout. The following is perhaps the most poignant and tragic section of exposition in the whole text:

Grief turns out to be a place none of us know until we reach it. We anticipate (we know) that someone close to us could die, but we do not look beyond the few days or weeks that immediately follow such an imagined death. We misconstrue the nature of even those few days or weeks. We might expect if the death is sudden to feel shock. We do not expect this shock to be obliterative, dislocating to both body and mind. We might expect that we will be prostrate, inconsolable, crazy with loss. We do not expect to be literally crazy, cool customers who believe that their husband is about to return and need his shoes....Nor can we know ahead of the fact (and here lies the heart of the difference between grief as we imagine it and grief as it is) the unending absence that follows, the void, the very opposite of meaning, the relentless succession of moments during which we will confront the experience of meaningless itself. (189)

After reading passages such as this, I have no choice but to cling to I Thessalonians 4:13: "But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep."

I don't think our grief is diminished as Christians, but in the midst of loss we're reminded that God has promised eternal salvation and glory for those who love Him. We're more than friends, siblings, daughters, sons, husbands and wives; we're children of the living God. Our hope is in His promises. This world is passing away and so are our fragile bodies. Despite knowing these things and perhaps repeating them for comfort in times of tribulation, we will still encounter pain, loss, the death of loved ones, and eventually our own peronsal unravelings. We are in fact incredibly and undeniably, human. Even C.S. Lewis after the loss of his wife makes it very clear, that as followers of Christ, death can shake our faith tremendously and make us question the very foundations of the world.

Didion mentions Lewis at least twice in her work...

I'm currently in love with the first chapter of Colossians, particularly 1:15-20.

mondays and migraines.

Most of the time moving seems like a great idea, the only idea, really. I can't stay here. But at times, I think about the moments when the new of everything will wear away. I know it's going to hurt...bad. I know I'll cry...a lot. But, this is what I have to do. I love my family, so much. I can't even mention boxes to my mom without her getting teary-eyed. I don't want to hurt them and I don't think they understand. It's not about them. If I could, I'd pack them up and take them with me. :) Maybe. That might be a little weird. Anyway. I will miss them and all of the others that are so dear. God give me strength.

I feel like there's so much to blog about, but I think my really long blogs are annoying. so, i'm trying to keep it short.

Bought a book on gnomes:

Songs on repeat in my head:

Sufjan Stevens: "Casimir Pulaski Day"

"...In the morning through the window shade

When the light pressed up against your shoulder blade

I could see what you were reading...

"Oh the glory when he took our place

But he took my shoulders and he shook my face

And he takes and he takes and he takes."

And i woke up singing the words to "Chicago" in my head this morning. It could be because I looked up apartments in Chicago yesterday. What if I moved there? Big change that would be.

Benjamin Gibbard: "You Remind Me of Home"

"Exploration" from the Coraline soundtrack

Cocteau Twins: "Ivo"

Fleet Foxes: "Innocent Son"

Inoj: "Love You Down" (This song is olllllldddd)

Mark Kozelek: "You Ain't Got a Hold On Me"

Lately....I'm happy, but there's an undercurrent of hesitation. Something whispers, "Shhh....don't get so excited. Things could crumble...things are crumbling and you just don't know it yet."

snippets

Let's just say that my relationship with Fleet Foxes was not one of "love at first listen." My appreciation of their work took some time. Last night I purchased their EP album Sun Giant, and it is...beautiful.

Two days ago the appliance man came to our apartment and produced one single bra underwire from the belly of our ailing washing machine. That's not embarrassing at all.

We started cutting out the patterns for our dresses yesterday. I purchased a pretty periwinkle fabric. Oh, and I had this brilliant idea. So you know how we have the "understood you" in the English language? Example: Go to the store or take me to the game! In both cases the subject of the sentence is an implied "you." So the sentences could be constructed like so: You go to the store or you take me to the game! What if we had the "understood I?" It's used all the time! You encounter it abundantly in creative works because sometimes it makes sentences more lyrical and succint, although they're not technically sentences and I personally use it all the time as well. Watch and see how this works (that was just a use of the "understood you").

Took the dog to the vet today. She was not happy about it and neither was I.

or

Visited Hancock's last week to decide on the fabric for my final project. Man, I am so indecisive.

Neither of the first sentences technically has a subject. I think the concept also lends itself to a more conversational tone. Just an idea.

Had a dream last night that I was in a thrift store and kept finding all this money in old purses and I couldn't decide if I should keep it or return it to the store. An overly-guilty conscience haunts my existence.

Accidentally come across this poster online and loved it: