The rest is still unwritten

on a tuesday

Wed, 27 Mar 2013 01:24:00 -0400

i woke this morning with a call from j:

“i’m going to houston, i didn’t know if you wanted to come or if you are busy. we are leaving in an hour.”

“ah sorry, i have some meetings planned, i’m coming home this weekend for sure. thanks for asking though.”

i brushed my teeth, crossed my stupid life off the list, and i called her back

then the world paused

three hours later i found myself in a dark crowded room. grandma was sleeping on the couch and my aunts were speaking in hushed tones. somehow, i got pushed to his bed, and for the first time, held his hand; speckled from age, bruised from IVs, and cold from the passing hours of life. his eyes opened for 2 seconds and immediately my aunt’s high pitched baby talk cut through the still air, “daddy, look at who’s here. it’s jess! jess is here to see you! daddy, will you open your eyes? it’s jess…daddy..” so we held hands in silence. his eyes closed and mine translucent with tears. silence, aside from the raspy heavy breathing from his slightly open mouth.

silent words: i love you. be brave, you’re going home and jesus is waiting for you. i love you. go on.

then i ran to go wrap my arms around my grandma in her soft sweater. she had just woken up and was digging through a pile of hospital snacks to find something to offer. after i finally convinced her not to worry about me, we sat close in silence and gazed at her husband.

physical separation for the first time in 56 years. but he has to go alone.

“…are you ready? …are you worried? then it’s okay, don’t worry about me either.”

the consoling nature of a loving touch and being held.

i sat for the next hours and listened to my aunts talk about funeral preparations, scheduling, care taking, notifications, all this planning with the unspoken element of- when?

“the doctor said 7-10 days, but he hasn’t been eating or drinking anything, so we think it might be sooner.”

i sat and listened to my grandma call to cancel the 2 months supply of dietary supplements she had ordered for him.

“i don’t think he will need it. i can find someone to give the first box to.”

i sat and watched my uncle who flew in due to a text at 3am, whisper to grandma not to worry about the plane cost.

i sat and watched visitors come in and out, my aunt trying to get grandpa to open his eyes, who was tired and just wanted to sleep.

i sat and watched him struggle to cough up some blood in a crumpled tissue held to his face.

i sat and i tried to take it in.

and then the world played, but in a reduced speed and with a sepia tint of something else. something like

an awareness of family,

the fragility of life,

the value of time,

an understanding of sympathy

and what it means to grieve.

Two days ago: This is my grandpa being brave, eyes on the woman he married and loves so dearly. Here is my grandma, with her always cheerful and supportive smile, by his side and holding on with a reassuring grip. His children are in the peripherals of the picture, most of his grandchildren connected through text updates, the church through seasoned prayer, but Christ, He is in him, hasn’t left, and will never leave.

For awhile, I’ve been thinking about fear in death. the anticipation of it. the reality and the sadness of not seeing the people you love. however, my fears are cancelled when I think about Christ’s embrace on his frail body; finally free of oxygen tanks, IVs, blood transfusions, catheters, and pain. Just a welcoming hug. And really, there is nothing scary about that.

Mathilde Roussel - Echology (2012) - Dew, milk, sap, branches,...

Sun, 24 Mar 2013 13:26:55 -0400

Mathilde Roussel - Echology (2012) - Dew, milk, sap, branches, bark and grass

Maira Kalman, my muse. spring and summer every other day....

Mon, 18 Feb 2013 16:30:29 -0500

Maira Kalman, my muse.

spring and summer every other day. that’s all i want.

Sunday afternoon spent w my favorite grammar book, daydreaming...

Sun, 17 Feb 2013 17:04:43 -0500

Sunday afternoon spent w my favorite grammar book, daydreaming of summertime while stirring strawberries in sugar

Wed, 09 Jan 2013 17:34:00 -0500

the moment of now

Fri, 23 Nov 2012 01:36:00 -0500

i looked at myself in the mirror this morning. not bad at all. thank god for cosmetics. the only evidence of my all nighter were the zombie eyes. eyes can be so telling. i blink consecutively for 30 seconds then smile. my mouth turns but my eyes remain lifeless. oh well. when you stare at a computer screen for more than 24 hours straight, it happens.

outside, the streets are bustling but my mind is fully engrossed in formulating some way to present a method to what ultimately is madness. how do you justify an extravagant hanging ceiling element to a client with a limited budget? his eyes stop me. rusty, yet clear at the same time. big, brown, and hopeful. they approach me. his mouth opens into a broken smile of missing teeth. can you buy me some ramen?

before the involuntary reflex of no-sleep-triggered-sarcasm spills out, those light filled eyes stop me again. it was as if a transaction occurred between his hopeful eyes and my own drained eyes. all in a split second, a photoshop magic wand kind of moment. i’m sorry, i don’t have money right now, but i promise i will buy you ramen the next time i see you. i promise.

okay. well, thank you for being nice to me.

play the sympathy card with me and you’ll always win.

10 minutes into the project review, which ironically is on a homeless resource center, my heart is restless and all i can think about is the man across the street. mid 30s, a dirty burnt orange tee covering a beer belly, our typical bum on guadalupe st. large numbers of students walk past his blue plastic cup everyday, but i’ve only given him my guilty gaze about 5 times. the other times were just routine surveillance: turn the corner, light is green, bum, bus stop, street, campus. he stopped me today and all i could give him was my word.

he’s just hungry.

and as if the aching in my heart was connected to the rumbling in his belly, i press pause on the anticipated moment of truth, get up, leave the class, scramble through my desk for a chocolate bar and some cash, and quickly cross the road to meet him.

this time, my newly hope filled eyes approach his.

hi there, i’m back. here, it’s for you.

he gives me that broken smile again. and asks for a hug.

paco, my name is paco.

and i’m jessica. we’re friends now.

my signature pitiful side hug is intercepted with his full, but marshmallow light, embrace. the light turns red, and i walk back to the review in the same state as i had left it, but with a deeper understanding of what it means to love aggressively.

part of it means listening to that compelling voice. taking a pause in your own day to brighten someone else’s. it means seeing others as as equals to yourself, even if they are in the street and you are in school. it means pouring out yourself without restraint, having endless gratitude to share, without counting the cost.

saving it for later, well, that would be passive.

proximity feeling the weight of this one word right...

Wed, 07 Nov 2012 23:27:00 -0500

proximity

feeling the weight of this one word right now.

subject: unaware little fellow location: barce-alone-a date: may 2011

After taking this picture, I stood there, waiting to see if anyone would notice him and open the gate, waiting to see if he would try to enter in, waiting to see if his mother would come and pick him up. it ended up that my waiting only mimicked his, and soon i was off to guadi wonders. but a piece of my waiting heart was left snuggled next to the boy, and each time i see this moment, the startling reality of proximity pierces through it once more.

"Smell is the mute sense, the one without words.We see only when there is light enough, taste only..."

Wed, 17 Oct 2012 13:28:40 -0400

“Smell is the mute sense, the one without words.We see only when there is light enough, taste only when we put things into our mouths, touch only when we make contact with someone or something, hear only sounds that are loud enough. But we smell always and with every breath. Cover your eyes and you will stop seeing, cover your ears and you will stop hearing, but if you cover your nose and try to stop smelling, you will die.”

- Diane Ackerman, A Natural History of the Senses

brilliance of scale

Sun, 07 Oct 2012 00:27:20 -0400

brilliance of scale

Grandpa used to always blast opera around the house. It was the only type of music that was profound...

Wed, 26 Sep 2012 23:29:00 -0400

Grandpa used to always blast opera around the house. It was the only type of music that was profound enough for the cynical artist. On occasions, he would run into my room and command me to stop whatever I was doing, just so we could watch the performance of the great Pavarotti on PBS. He would point at the TV and say, “Pafarahti”. I remember seeing the deep admiration in his eyes, their attentive fix, giving me the impression this heavily bearded man was Grandpa’s dear childhood friend. Now it’s impossible to disconnect the two.

Opera is my choice of catharsis.

Some days are perfect for soaking in Puccini’s selection of strong tenors. How about a Verdi bath? Just close your eyes and marvel, that’s all there is to it. Sit in the sounds until all your amassed crevices are smoothed down and the fragrance settles. Let the notes wash through each tightened membrane. Unwind and unwind and unwind.

Back in the old days, all it took was a hug from Grandpa and the world was better. Today, I listen to opera.

My favorite series by Steve Thomas. I’m currently booking...

Sun, 05 Aug 2012 22:47:52 -0400

My favorite series by Steve Thomas. I’m currently booking a trip before school starts. Who’s in?

Enjoy a Slice of Security complimentary from the DHS

Mon, 30 Jul 2012 19:24:00 -0400

When historic events and personal lives meet, our backs tend to straighten, ears perk, and minds immediately enter into a nostalgic state. Who can blame us? The story spices up a bit when we enter the picture.

I find myself looking forward to the day I get to sit my nonexistent children by the couch and share with them the simpler times before an event widely known as 9/11. I’d say something along the lines of, “Now listen, on September 11, 2001, Momma was just about your age when teachers stopped lessons, turned on the TV, and began dismissing children one by one out of class. None of the students knew what was going on, but some were crying. I remained staring at the news report with my other classmates whose parents were at work. The whole country was in state shock and panic.” Then I’d debrief them on the effects of the terrorist attack. For instance, the USA Patriot Act was created. It gave law enforcement officials power to conduct searches without warrants, monitor financial transactions and eavesdrop, and secretly detain and deport individuals suspected of committing terrorist acts.

However, I am more directly affected by the Department of Homeland Security which was established shortly after 9/11 in order to safeguard against terrorism. The DHS has set up many government agencies as well as protection systems. Perhaps that also would be a good opportunity to explain to my kids why we don’t travel as much. “Sorry kids, if it weren’t for an episode titled, ‘Airport Woes’ before each vacation, maybe we would be going to Disneyland Paris this July” . Then I would provide a description of the carefree travel days prior to having to arrive at the airport 2 hours early, waiting through lines longer than last season’s American Idol auditions, having your hairspray confiscated, along with your travel nail manicure set, and the bottle of French wine you spent 30 euros on. I would tell them of a time prior to running to your currently boarding flight while both trying to fix your shoes and think of a new souvenir to bring back that preferably cost less than 30 euros. “Did you know that family members used to be able to wait for you at the terminal? Like in those old movies which aren’t really that old… take Love Actually for example, they would greet you with flowers and hugs right when you stepped off the airplane! Those were special times.” You could even greet your brother-in-law with a loud and enthusiastic, “HI JACK!” without having the airport police swarm over you. Maybe that is exaggerating it a little, but it would help emphasize the precaution measures that the entire United States has to accommodate to.

Despite the extra hassle it throws on travelers, these acts have often protected against terrorist attacks, and since 2001, have exposed two bombing attempts. Richard Reid, was found guilty of hiding explosives in his shoes, marking 2002 as the year when Americans everywhere were, for the first time, handed gray plastic tubs to send their shoes off on a 5 minute journey through Fancy Scanning Equipment. Okay, yes, I’d gladly take off my shoes for 5 minutes if it means not being spontaneously blown up while in the air. Sometimes, we just have to verbally remind ourselves to be thankful that we live in a country that actually cares about the security of its inhabitants.

architizer: Metal Chairs That Channel Tree Stumps

Sat, 28 Jul 2012 20:02:14 -0400

architizer:

Metal Chairs That Channel Tree Stumps

Hands

Thu, 12 Jul 2012 23:26:00 -0400

My grandma, she used to take my little chubby hand in hers and hold them there for a good eternity. I had no concept of time back then. Feeling too shy to take my hands back, I would sit with her for however long and just feel her hands, hoping to understand the world through them. Her hands were covered in flour, slender and bony. The skin was slightly speckled with a tan color. Her fingertips were rough compared to the loose, wrinkled skin that clung to bones. “My mom had no fingerprints” my dad still likes to proudly declare. Tools to a gifted and hard working soul, her hands spent decades painting the tiny petals of flowers and the swooping surface of vases. They attempted to teach me to paint, but my untrained hands were too restless and impatient. Her hands cooked wholesome meals 3 times a day, fearless of splattering oil and the sharp butcher knife. They attempted to teach me to cook as well, but my untrained hands shriveled at the steam of a boiling pot and would not come within a foot of the stove. Her hands, as worn as they were, tried learning piano to inspire me to practice. My lazy hands fumbled around carelessly each day, keeping track of the 60 minutes until they could be occupied entirely by pressing the channel button on the remote control.
Her hands played marbles with me, combed my hair and snapped in a bow each morning, put night cream on my nose, mended my shirts, flipped pages while pointing at each line so I could follow along. Her hands sketched often in her sketchbook, and taped my doodles alongside her own. Her hands reached in her purse for candy and pushed me in a shopping cart.

I can’t remember the last time I held her hands, but it was at least 5 years ago. I wonder if they are smaller, if there are more specks on them, if they are cold right now. I’d give anything to hold them, to hold and kiss the hands that are associated with some of my fondest memories.

Meanwhile, I’m looking down at my own, which type so swiftly. Fingers that can braid hair, maneuver a car, text quickly,and somewhat still press keys on the piano. Besides not being able to put nail polish on smoothly, these hands never limit me. But what do they do all day? What am I using them for? I tried documenting my day in the perspective of my hands and it went something like this: putting on make up. taking some physics notes. twirling my hair. scrolling through instagram and pushing the “<3” button on one direction pictures. un-“<3”ing them when I realized people can see what i like. twirling my hair. twirling my hair. putting chapstick on. twirling my hair.

For hands at their prime time, they are pretty idle and vain, and sitting here thinking about Grandma’s hands places an urgency in my heart to flip through the Bible more, to demonstrate love and grace, to be instruments for Christ and not wasted on myself. I want to begin each day by asking God, “What do You want these hands to do? Where do You want them to go? Who do You want them to touch?”

Frances Havergal puts it well, “Take my hands and let them move, at the impulse of Thy love.”

Kelly Pratt and sandwich documentation http://statelysandwiches.com/

Mon, 02 Jul 2012 13:15:57 -0400

Kelly Pratt and sandwich documentation

http://statelysandwiches.com/

Christopher Boffoli and some serious food...

Mon, 02 Jul 2012 13:13:00 -0400

Christopher Boffoli and some serious food playing

http://bigappetites.net/

subtilitas: Amann Cánovas Maruri - Monteagudo Museum,...

Sun, 01 Jul 2012 02:24:22 -0400

subtilitas:

Amann Cánovas Maruri - Monteagudo Museum, Monteagudo 2011. Via.

expose-the-light: Photographer Loves Math, Graphs Her...

Sun, 01 Jul 2012 02:22:15 -0400

expose-the-light:

Photographer Loves Math, Graphs Her Images

Here are some of the pictures the photographer named Nikki Graziano have captured. Graziano, is a math and photography student at Rochester Institute of Technology, she overlays graphs and their corresponding equations onto her carefully composed photos.

“I wanted to create something that could communicate how awesome math is, to everyone,” she says.

Graziano doesn’t go out looking for a specific function but lets one find her instead. Once she’s got an image she likes, Graziano whips up the numbers and tweaks the function until the graph it describes aligns perfectly with the photograph. See more of her Found Functions series at Nikkigraziano.com.

lecture to myself: hind sight is always 20/20

Sat, 30 Jun 2012 22:18:00 -0400

jessica, it’s imperative that you learn to read directions carefully and clearly. READ. use your eyes and brain. be smart.

jessica, don’t ever just shoot for the bare minimum. Minimums shouldn’t be options. Always be spectacular and try your very best.

jessica, be compassionate. see things from other people’s eyes. try to understand people around you.

jessica, be generous with your time and blessings

jessica, always look people in the eye and make them feel like they are the only person in the world to you

jessica, turn your head and check before changing lanes.

jessica, be confident. don’t hesitate

jessica, stay away from sugar. do your exercises. drink water.

just take me out of Houston

Fri, 29 Jun 2012 15:06:37 -0400

just take me out of Houston