The Lone Wulff

Do you want to come live in my castle?!

2012-02-01T20:04:00.000-08:00

As I was walking quietly through campus the other day, grey sidewalk under feet, green grass with just enough water siphoned off by the sun for it to no longer envelope your shoes with chocolate milk looking swamp when you step on it, large beautiful pine trees off to the left that smell of caramel when summer comes, and a few houses off to the right a bastion for each family's possessions.

That's when I saw the wild eyes approaching me, the child soldier, no more than 10 years old, raises his arm in salutation and yells excitedly, "Wanna be a peasant in my castle?! I'll be the king, and we can fight off the bad guys!" Realizing his crown of golden hair, I panic, since I don't have what the king desires; time. I reply back "I'm sorry, I have to go to school."

"Well! Will you come back later?!", he retorts.

"I really hope so..."

At this, we part ways. I head down the flat gray path, towards books and knowledge, while he protects his kingdom from the dark creatures that attack his castle.

I long for those days, like the tree fort that Dad and I built back home. The picture up there^ is a picture of the door right before we moved houses last May. I spent two summers sleeping in that thing, throwing pine cone grenades at any "bad guys" that dare approach, and sniping the sneaky ones with my stick gun. Every so often the battle would stop to witness the approach of a herd of deer. Sometimes in the morning, it would be cold enough to witness steam billowing from their nostrils as their tuned shoulders and legs would cause them to glide across the steep terrain.

"Excuse me!"
Not realizing the boy had caught up to me, I stop. My face, I'm sure, was contorted in confusion.

"Excuse me! Um... what was your name?"

"Daniel...?"

"Oh cool! I forgot to tell you that the castle is around the corner, just on the other side of my house!"

"Oh. Ok!"

At this, his feet flew across the grass back to the kingdom. Oh how I wanted to go with him. The king.

Ask Me

2011-12-02T02:35:00.001-08:00

Some time when the river is ice ask me
mistakes I have made. Ask me whether
what I have done is my life. Others
have come in their slow way into
my thought, and some have tried to help
or to hurt: ask me what difference
their strongest love or hate has made.

I will listen to what you say.
You and I can turn and look
at the silent river and wait. We know
the current is there, hidden; and there
are comings and goings from miles away
that hold the stillness exactly before us.
What the river says, that is what I say.

-By William Stafford

Grandma

2011-10-03T19:34:00.000-07:00

Grandma passed away this morning, I got to visit this last weekend. It was a special time and I really appreciated it. I'll try to write more later this week. For now, my Uncle posted a nice little write-up of his last visit here: http://leetidbits.blogspot.com/2011/10/loss-of-mom.html

The difference between forgiveness and reconciliation...

2011-09-17T22:47:00.000-07:00

There is one.

Genesis 44-45

Insomnia

2011-08-08T00:50:00.000-07:00

I haven't been able to sleep lately. It's pretty much been that I've only slept between 4 and 5 hours per night at most. And those 4 or 5 hours consist of horrendous dreams.

Not like the usual nightmares where monsters come and attack, or strangers chase you around the woods. Instead the dreams include people I know really well.

I end up tossing and turning and not having restful sleep because the people that are in my dreams are people from my past that I either feel like I've had a negative impact on and feel guilty about the presence I've been in their life, or they are people that have abandoned me or abandoned people that I love, whether that's a divorce of a friend or just an unspoken abandonment.

I want to sleep again, and the only decently restful sleep I've had in the last couple weeks was last night, after spending the weekend showing junior highers the beauty of creation and being completely exhausted and in pain.

"Lord grant me peace."

Mission Trips and such things

2011-08-01T22:36:00.000-07:00

So our annual Mexico Mission Trip came and went. The high school youth group at the church I attend in Jacksonville goes every year, and as a youth assistant for the summer I actually got paid to go this year. Quite a worthy adventure I would say.

There are many awesome stories to tell. God worked in so many ways. I cannot speak of them all, but hopefully if you catch me online or face-to-face I will be able to share some of the amazing things that occurred (12 and half minute nap anyone?).

Anyhow, I created the Slideshow as usual. And so here it is:

When curse becomes gift...

2011-07-17T22:58:00.000-07:00

So this lady is kinda awesome. She gets seizures all the time, like severe ones. But realized that if she took off running long distances as soon as she felt a seizure coming on, it would never happen. Now she's one of the best ultra runners in the entire world. She also can't read a map...

I used to be the king... of burger king

2011-06-27T16:55:00.001-07:00

My grandfather's hands are much more crooked but have a very similar look to the ones at right. It signifies the work that my family has done for generations; construction. My father is a plumber, my grandfather was a plumber, electrician & woodworker, my great grandfather was a plumber, my uncle is a plumber, my other uncle is a plumber, my other uncle owns a company building shelters, 3 of my cousins are in construction. We build things.

I used to build things, but like my brother (the first male in our extended family to graduate college), I've started choosing the path towards office jobs, and administrative work. Although my summer job is working as a youth assistant for my church, I still find myself craving the feel of tools in my hand, and enjoyment of a cold shower after a long day sweating in the heat.

And so often times I find myself questioning the idea of a career in Engineering. Engineering isn't even that bad, since a decent amount of it is actually putting your ideas into a physical form, but still. I see all these engineering students who came from families of thinkers and college attendees and question. And although when I hear the word "engineering" and I really don't understand the kind of jobs people do, I understand the skills needed and design steps to create a product. In these things I feel gifted, and wasting them would be foolish. In the same way that Will Hunting could have wasted his gifts.

And so I do miss the trips to Burger King for lunch, in which paint, caulking and sawdust seem to cover every inch of your clothes. It was in these moments where the old and the wise would look upon you and say things like "you a painter?", and after explaining my position at the factory he would nod, smirk and say something along the lines of "sounds like hard work, keep it up." He made me feel more like a king than any bonus, pay raise or positive product review will... but I hope I'm wrong.

Bike Lanes

2011-06-11T21:11:00.000-07:00

I usually end up riding in the road, because the street sweepers don't clean the gravel out of the bike lanes.

My Conclusion About the Power Of Boredom

2011-06-08T22:54:00.000-07:00

Modern technology with the distinct ability of providing a person entertainment at nearly any part of the day has brought about the biggest lull in modern development pertaining to new technologies and industries, as well as brotherly action in helping our fellow man to survive and pursue happiness.

Back 70 years ago, my grandfather would have rather helped his neighbor round up the chickens going to market the next day, then to sit around the house bored.

Other people at that time, would rather try their hand at designing new parts for their motorcycles instead of sitting around bored.

With the ability of anybody today to access thousands of pages of information on mechanical devices, electricity and computational systems, we should have a dramatic influx of new patents and ideas coming to fruition, many of which would save today's poverty stricken countries from nightmares possibly including such things as social diseases and starvation. Instead today's teenagers and young adults are content on facebook, watching youtube videos, witnessing the newest blockbuster film, and practicing their fast twitch reflexes on video games... I'd rather be bored in a 3rd world country, then watch America's youth waste their lives on unimportant things (my opinion will probably change before I buy a plane ticket).

Why I talk to inanimate objects

2011-05-16T16:37:00.001-07:00

I was walking to a coffee shop the other day to finish a final year end report for my position as community service coordinator at school. And as I was walking down the sidewalk, through Jacksonville (a quaint little town in Southern Oregon, marked by classic western storefronts and small neighborhoods with precise lawns and flower beds), I glanced up and noticed a girl, perhaps 8 or 9 years old playing in her driveway. She seemed quite tall for her age, but maybe it was just her long flowing blond hair that gave the illusion as it jumped from the top of her head backwards towards the ground, never quite reaching it's destination.

As I traveled onwards, soon to pass by on the other side of the road. I noticed she had lined up an assortment of books in a semicircle in front of a very distinctly pulpit like chair to stand behind. Quickly I realized that this chair was much more like the front of an elementary classroom, and we had the makings of a very studious and professional teacher instead of the next great sermon presenter. Her lessons were very quick and to the point, and her words traveled out across the road even with her back turned away from me just in case her "students" weren't listening properly.

A quick glance over her shoulder, however, showed that a stranger was within earshot. She quickly began awkwardly pacing, boring holes in the tops of her shoes with here large blue eyes. Her mouth would not crack, not ever for a smile as she tried to avoid any signs of embarrassment on her face to the preaching she was doing to... well, a driveway.

All this to say. As I was pondering the situation I came to the conclusion that somehow, someone indicated to her that it was not good for little girls to pretend that they were surrounded by students and the individual given the role of the teacher. Somehow she found out that "pretending" was not something that she should do....

This is why I talk to my computer when I'm mad at it. This is why I say things to my bike when it fails to shift smoothly. This is why, when I am unsure of myself, I ask my traffic cone Frank, what his opinion of my outfit is... because I think that imagination can be a very important aspect of comfortability with the self, as well as a means to an exploration of what the self could be.

I'm surely not saying that everyone should go around imitating their local stuttering homeless man who talks about the weather to every random shadow he passes beneath. But perhaps... if more, say, college students, followed possible career choice research with an acting out of what that would possibly look like... maybe more people would end up being satisfied with what they chose to pursue....

Photo By: Ben Heine

The inner workings of an Author's Brain

2011-05-14T23:14:00.000-07:00

I find that studies on Alzheimer's and other brain detrimenting diseases/conditions to be quite fascinating. Mostly because my Grandmother suffers from some pretty severe Alzheimer's and it also seems that I am starting to meet more and more people with social disorders such as autism.

So when I listen to a short podcast about how an author is affected by natural degradation of the mind, I am interested. I come to sit on the edge of my seat, however, when I learn that her first book that was published after she started going "downhill", was written about an author who was trying to help a detective (mystery novel), but kept forgetting about clues and minor details.

This author's book was reviewed as being quite horrible. Which is astounding to most people, because she wrote the top selling books of all time (besides the bible), and she was never diagnosed with any type of disorder. If you have a few minutes, listen to this spectacular little podcast.

The benefits of new technology...

2011-05-11T18:17:00.000-07:00

...and why I want it.

The Mountain from TSO Photography on Vimeo.

So a $1800 camera, a $900 lens and a few tripods will get me pictures like that. Night time lapses are my favorite, but are nigh on impossible with my current gear. I need to start working more weddings and mayhaps I can save enough to justify buying some new stuff.

I hate snakes

2011-05-09T19:25:00.000-07:00

Goes the well known saying by Indiana Jones. Now, I don't really mind snakes all that much. I actually think they're kinda cool. Growing up, my brother, dad and I would often catch snakes while playing or working outside around our property. However, my mom is deathly afraid of snakes. We took advantage of this quite often for a few moments of entertainment... dad often got in more trouble than us.

The best way to surprise mom was to leave a snake in a brown grocery bag on the kitchen counter.

Anyways, here's a spectacular video of a man who has absolutely no fear of the slithery kind:

Switching it up

2011-05-04T22:58:00.000-07:00

So... my blog has been lacking in the last month. And I always feel the need to keep it going, but the problem is that I don't think my life is all that entertaining. So I don't write that often. Anyhow, I am constantly reminded by friends and family that I post really neet videos and links quite often on my facebook.

Now I know that I don't want to just become some constant poster, like that annoying email forwarding friend you may have... but I figure if I share why I think this video, or link or science article... or whatever, is important. Maybe that will share a little bit about who I am as well. So anyways, here's to switching it up!

Musica

2011-04-09T00:50:00.000-07:00

Link Here:

So, I don't much like the song, I don't enjoy listening to the band (except for every so often). But I do feel that the falsity of life that the lyrics portray, expresses my time with friends lately. Such does overwork and depression bring. I look forward to the end of the semester. And I cherish the moments that are true (maybe a little too much).

Lyrics:
Her green plastic watering can
For her fake Chinese rubber plant
In the fake plastic earth
That she bought from a rubber man
In a town full of rubber plans
To get rid of itself

It wears her out, it wears her out
It wears her out, it wears her out

She lives with a broken man
A cracked polystyrene man
Who just crumbles and burns
He used to do surgery
For girls in the eighties
But gravity always wins

It wears him out, it wears him out
It wears him out, it wears him out

She looks like the real thing
She tastes like the real thing
My fake plastic love
But I can't help the feeling
I could blow through the ceiling
If I just turn and run

It wears me out, it wears me out
It wears me out, it wears me out

If I could be who you wanted
If I could be who you wanted all the time

All the time...
All the time...

Late night derailment

2011-03-30T01:24:00.000-07:00

My train of thought is all over the place tonight...

"It is true we can seldom help those closest to us. Either we don't know what part of ourselves to give or more often than not the part we have to give is not wanted. And so it is those we live with and should know who allude us, but we can still love them. We can love completely, without complete understanding." (see post, somewhere down there \/ )

*sigh* This came to mind with interactions with quite a few different people today. I guess us young folks are afraid of losing independence, or our own strength and ability to dig deep in hard situations. I guess I could always give up trying to help people, but then where would the caring love come from? No, I must try...

For the very act of trying induces a desire to care. A desire to think outside one's self. There is not a whole lot more benefiting to me at this time, than focusing attention off of myself for a short while. Even if only failure is achieved, is not a caring thought still of some value? I wonder how many times was Jesus, the ultimate servant, turned down?

But there is something to be said about pushing too far. Welcome to the condition of most modern day parents. That's what I think this speaker is trying to get at when he talks about loving the individuals. Because you know anything else will just lead to either, frustration on your part or an encapsulating of the soul of the individual you seek to help.

One day you are a welcome contributor to figuring out life together. The next you are the individual seeking to destroy "what's best".

When you have good music...

2011-03-28T20:07:00.000-07:00

but it doesn't tell much of a story. What do you do?

Make a freaking amazing music video:

Russ Chimes - MIDNIGHT CLUB EP (Part 1: Never Look Back) from Saman Keshavarz on Vimeo.

Russ Chimes - MIDNIGHT CLUB EP (Part 2: Tertre Rouge) from Saman Keshavarz on Vimeo.

Russ Chimes - MIDNIGHT CLUB EP (Part 3: Targa) from Saman Keshavarz on Vimeo.

Self Examination

2011-03-27T03:06:00.000-07:00

First off, if you have an hour (well, more like 50 minutes) to kill. You should go watch Demetri Martin's "If I" special:

In this program, the comedian genius of Demetri, is examined, by himself. I find it all quite fascinating and he's quite hilarious at parts, showing off glimpses of his humour found in normal stand up comedy shows.

He comes to the conclusion that self examination can take a toll, in that you can become so focused on who you want to be, that you ignore the all more important aspect of how you are living now.
________________________________________

(here's a random picture of me senior year of high school, to reflect on)

It seems, as of late, that my own self examination is taking place, in part. I don't feel it intrudes into my regular studies or causes me to think too much about the future, but I will say that it would really be nice if things were more thought out and just overall, made more sense.

On one hand, I have the ability to power through all of my homework that I have to still make up. On the other, I wonder if this, possibly, is a good time to realize that friendships, art and God are more important.

On one hand, I'm wondering if engineering, science and math is a career opportunity. On the other, I wonder if engineering, science and math is more of an interest.

On one hand, I could change my major to something more worthwhile (to me) like literature. In the same hand, I could leave college seeking a job in my field and coming up short.

On one hand, I could keep examining myself. In the same hand, I could never come to a complete conclusion...
___________________

Contendedness is what I need.

Sermons

2011-03-25T02:44:00.000-07:00

"Each one of us here today will at one time in our lives, look upon a loved one who is in need and ask the same question. "We are willing to help Lord, but what, if anything is needed?" It is true we can seldom help those closest to us. Either we don't know what part of ourselves to give or more often than not the part we have to give is not wanted. And so it is those we live with and should know who allude us, but we can still love them. We can love completely, without complete understanding."
-Mclain, A River Runs Through It

(photo seen here: flickr)

Spring Break Family stuffs

2011-03-23T17:51:00.000-07:00

So, my cousins came out to my Aunt and Uncle's ranch... it seems like a decent amount of the extended family migrated out for an evening campfire. Great fun.

Anyhow, I experimented with some time lapse stuff... this is what came out. I got some good notes, will head back out soon I'm sure.

Stowed away...

2011-03-20T19:40:00.000-07:00

So with the whole "my parents are moving soon", we have boxes scattered across the floor. full of all sorts of random memorabilia. It's great fun to read through, and look at all the random stuff. So far I've found an a-1 Jr. Kodak camera (dated back to 1890-1900), a bunch of cool photo albums (one containing hundreds of pictures of yosemite, and the other a bunch of Alaska), and finally a newspaper clipping scrapbook, and journal that my Nana had.

The pictures are kinda hard to share, so I thought I would share a newspaper clipping, and then a portion from my Nana's scrapbook.
____________________________

Test Prayer
Now I lay me down to study,
I pray the Lord I won't go nutty.
If I should fail to learn this junk,
I pray the Lord I will not flunk.
But if I do, don't shed a tear,
Just put a rose behind my ear.
Tell my teacher I did my best.
Then pile my books upon my chest.
If I should die before I wake'
That's one less test I'll have to take
-Suffering Student

_______________________________

"Love is Caring about someone else's feelings as if they were your own."

"A Kiss is the Jumper Cable of the heart."

"Love is that tickling Sensation Around the Heart that Can't be itched."

"Autograph your work with Excellence."

"I wish My Bed had 2 Right sides."

"The Man who is smart enough to Keep his feet on the ground is Smart enough to Clean his feet Before he Comes in."

-Mom "Nana" Wulff

Broken

2011-03-16T19:53:00.000-07:00

Today I watched a man struggle to push his broken down truck across a 4 lane intersection. After pulling around the entire block, he managed to push it far enough off the road, with the last minute help of two men from the car behind him.

The disease of modern day society is the inability to put another person above one's self. We are too tired to care, too selfish to take action, too worried about how we will look, or the danger we could be in. We seem to only apply charity when it benefits us in some way.

TRAIN from Darius Clark Monroe on Vimeo.

...

I'm guilty as well.

I just need to find a place to curl up and die

2011-03-08T03:36:00.001-08:00

I got kicked out of Differential Equations the other day, because they were going over a test that I had inevitably missed when I head-butted the road.

I went down the hall and hung out in the religious studies office. I liked the idea of being next to a pitcher of free coffee, although I never ended up pouring myself a cup. Worried that somehow by taking a cup, an overworked professor would go to class unmotivated and cause the student in the back row to fall asleep, and then fail a test. Causing them to drop out of college and thus end any life goals available to them. These things are the things that worry me after realizing that a familiar face may have failed Chemistry because of an action I didn't need to take... but worrying won't help that now.

As I was pretending to work on circuits, chatting with a girl who's confidence in every situation is confusing, at best. I overheard the secretary discussing the identity of the old man, who was slumped over in the couch directly outside the glass doors. I passed by this man earlier and assumed it was just one of the many aged George Fox alumni who seem to wander the corridors, seeking after the youthful memories that they once held.

This man was different. This man was exhausted. This man was homeless. This man had just been released from the Newberg Providence Medical Center that morning. He told Paul, the professor who charged himself with seeing that the man be cared for, "I just need to find a place to curl up and die."

It's the few like Paul and Elizabeth who know how to show somebody that they are worth something. I find myself at a loss for words in these situations.

Original Flickr can be found here

Bike Crash

2011-03-07T23:17:00.001-08:00

So... bike crashes are no fun.

___________________
Last Tuesday followed a very "monday" monday. In which many homework and work related things seemed to be "off" slightly, causing the day to feel very sluggish, long and boring.

So, I went for a bike ride, looking to escape the "campus as a prison" mentality and finding the flightful freedom feeling. Found only upon two wheels with arms stretched wide as an airplane, cruising down smooth pavement.

Now, of course my crash wasn't this glorious. Nor did abruptly end this glory. My bike crash took place after I began my quick flight through Newberg, pushing pedals hard down while gliding over newly damp pavement. Seeking a quick pulse and straining muscles, I pushed.

Coming to a cross road in which a railroad track lay in the middle of the street, I crossed perpendicularly. My rubber tires glided upon the first slick rail. With the sudden loss of friction I corrected myself, only to realize in the correction the second rail now in an optimum position to hold my front tire in a death grip.

I flew over the handlebars and onto the pavement. My arms shooting outwards, failing at stopping my fall, they were pushed forcefully behind me. My helmet and face, then proceeded to take the rest of the impact.

An onlooker witnessed my crash and jumped out of the car asking quietly "Hey, looks like you took a pretty hard fall there". I retorted in shamed anger and sarcasm, "Yeah! Am I bleeding anywhere?!" As blood trickled down my face, he ushered me into the nearby fire station, with the promise of "a quick patch-up".

Sitting in the fire station lunch room, assessing the damage as a new face popped through a doorway 30 seconds to ask what was going on? As I continued to sit, one man began unpacking gauze, ointments and the like. I began to pale, and feel shocky. Another person came closer to ask me all sorts of interesting questions... like what my name was... over and over.

I kept my eyes closed as to concentrate on preventing the light headed feeling. After about 2 minutes of feeling like, well... shit. I opened my eyes, and saw nothing. Yup, couldn't see jack squat. At this point the lovely firemen were advising a trip to the hospital to get some x-rays and a ct scan. So I got to ride in the ambulance, with no sirens blaring. It was quite the disappointment (which wasn't realized until afterwards).

So, I sat in the hospital with a couple friends for many hours. Luckily the tests came out clear, and I was sent home with a prescription of vicodin and antibiotics (to keep the eye from getting infected).

It's been close to two weeks and my eye still has some red in it, my face is almost healed, and my head almost doesn't hurt anymore.

Seattle

2011-03-07T23:16:00.000-08:00

Alrighty... this is a little late, but whatever.
_____________

There is something spectacular about last minute adventures. Whether they take the form of something grand, or something dedicated to a quaint 30 minute chunk of the evening. (The lovely Sarah Cadd and I poached the local driving range at 11:30pm on tuesday night. Successfully returning by midnight)

My friend Toni and I sat up late doing homework on a Thursday (I'm beginning to suspect that T-days are adventure days). We began weaving tales of where we could escape to, in order to avoid the responsibilities of homework and other collegiate things. Georgia, Rhode Island, Hawaii, Alaska, Colorado... all sounded so sweet and freeing.

After an hour or so of such talk, the homework was winding down and the next day was calling.Thinking of the friends we knew at SPU (Seattle Pacific University) and past talks of Toni's sisters that live in the area, I spouted out "Lets go to Seattle this weekend". A facebook message was sent to a sister, and half joking tired heads journeyed back to their cold pillows.

That weekend (the next day - feb 26th & 27th) we ended up traveling to Seattle:

(some of these can be seen larger, on my flickr)

Creepy cool building

Random Seattle antique-store

Below Pikes Place (Michael Erving, AK friend seen here)

Gum wall

Cool buildings down by the underground tour

Candy-apple shop... they had giant stuffed animal bears.... they still creep me out, just a little.

From that park...

Freemont troll

Icicles and vine growth at the place we crashed

Thanks to Gary and Stephanie (Toni's sister), for letting us stay at their house. It was a glorious time.

Today is Sad

2011-02-28T19:51:00.000-08:00

(Inspired by a friend's post)

Walking around Seattle, I stare at the tall buildings with their perfect windows and flat designs. I can't help but stand in awe of the black tower, perfectly tall and straight. I scan the sidewalks and walkways, interested in the symmetry of squares below my feat, neatly placed one against another forming patterns of lines and cold cement. Panning down to the water my eyes follow overhead power lines, propelling electric busses with geometrically brilliant cables.

As I round an alley I witness a hidden face of a building. Cowering in the corner behind the beautiful and perfect. Marred with dirt and grime, broken bricks and windows, a rusted fire ladder. A once beautifully red side, now tainted to resemble a recovering scab. Smooth skin, now pushed up in places, taking on red and black hues, oozing discolorations and darkening the surrounding foundations. The building oozes, the building is not what it once was. The building is not proud, as my passing fingers click the shutter open. Many photos are taken as the duo of photographers find beauty in the "once was". Beauty that cannot be found among the other places.

I "once was". I am now marred and scraped and oozing. But I am beautiful, Beloved and loving. God loves the broken, rusted and tainted; as I love the broken, rusted and tainted. There beauty is found. there character is formed. And there lies the opportunity to be cleansed.

I wish the building would stand tall, proud of what it has been through.

(this needs to be rewritten at some point - I find it rather annoying in parts)

_________________________________________________

Today is an anniversary

Independence

2011-02-04T15:53:00.000-08:00

Many people would say that I'm pretty independent. I will go hiking or backpacking alone. I'm fine with going shopping by myself. I go for late night walks by myself. I'll go to church alone. I sit in the back of all my classes.

I never really hated being alone. Although, I used to not strive to invite others into my adventures. I always imagined that if I went on cool enough adventures or came back with awesome stories of amazing views, people met, and events witnessed, that friends would start appearing. As if somehow I earned them completely by my own doing...

It's weird growing up with a brother and sister that are 7 and 10 years older than you. In fact it's hard to say that I grew up with them. I don't blame them at all for any of this, of course. I don't blame my parents either, but I do look at it as a negative to growing up with a brother or sister closer to my own age.

In order to hang out with my bro and sis, at the younger stages of life, I had to act like them. Portraying myself as something I was not. This was more apparent when they were around friends and peers. The only times I was really myself was when I was alone... it was weird... every once in awhile I catch myself resorting back to the old-the distorted actor...

My favorite movie for awhile was "Into the Wild". Not because it has a great story or people involved (the kid was an idiot, you see), but because the last great thing that the kid realized in life, was that it was all meaningless unless you shared it with others.

So, if I ask you to go on an adventure, or do something, that in your mind is quite meaningless, humour me. Then when you ask of me something that I think of as, "grasping at the wind", I can practice doing the same in return.

Maybe we'll find something we can enjoy together.

(oh and that picture there... that was me backpacking on Mt. Hood)

My Celebration of Birth

2011-01-28T03:15:00.000-08:00

Celebrating birthday's during the week is kinda weird to me. It seems almost like a task to have an excess amount of fun, while trying to have a productive day but I think I succeeded this time around.

Some highlights:
-I finished all my homework wednesday night, so I didn't have to do any on my birthday (thursday).
-I read a decent amount of my book.
-We piled a bunch of friends in the back of Matt's car and drove to every Dutch Bros within a 30 minute radius (5 free drinks).
-Toni, Tyler and I watched the movie Zombieland.
-I was forced to stand on a chair and have everyone in the Bon (pronounced bone - short for bon appetite, the company that runs our cafeteria) sing to me, but I did get cake.
-I slept a lot.
-Work got cancelled.
-I got a sweet pocket knife, and a nice letter from my parents.
-I went for a short midnight walk through Newberg.
and
-I found a bunch of sweet notes from friends all over the place.

___________________________

I also found it ironic that I started my day by reading through my friend Toni's blog post about someone passing away.

And ended my day by watching this great short film about a family death after Chernobyl.

I guess it keeps some perspective on what life is about: living.

I dare not look away

2011-01-25T21:50:00.000-08:00

Hmm... how do I write this out?

Alright, so. Our engineering department here at Fox requires all engineering students from Spring-Sophmore year until Fall-Senior year to participate in a class called Servant Engineering.

Servant engineering is a class devoted to using our God given skills as engineers to help those that don't have the same abilities, or access to those abilities. We are broken into 13 different teams. Each team consisting of 3-6 engineers. We have a wide range of projects, from redesigning the bikes used to haul supplies in Bangladesh, to designing a posture trainer for the blind. More information can be seen on Our Website.

As for myself, I'm working with two other students devoting ourselves to a couple different projects, all of which will be for the Providence Child Center in Portland. This center was described to me as a home for the 58 most physically and emotionally disabled children in the Pacific Northwest. The children that are housed there are accepted because of the fact that the hospital is religiously based. Some of the children were taken to other hospitals, diagnosed as being in a vegetative state, hooked up to life support systems, and left alone to... live. If you can call it that.

The Providence Child Center has a constant force of 120 nurses, physical therapists, and doctors that provide the kids with numerous activities. Ranging from water therapy, to game sessions, to music and video venues, and even taking the kids to school. I got to meet one of their medically fragile girls. She couldn't talk, but we communicated.

I can't even tell you her real name from the privacy laws that enclose the kids. For now I'll call her Erin...

I walk through the halls of the second floor, glancing at open doors to witness the hospital beds and tangle of IV tubes coming from bed-side stands. The sterile hospital feel is masked by many picture frames of family members, a favorite stuffed animal and occasionally a hand made quilt. The constant moaning of the retarded can be heard down the halls, a constant reminder of a need unmet or a body uncomfortable. People trapped in a shell.

I look at the contorted arms, legs, feet, hands, necks... of the children. Glimpsing at the child in the corner who is currently being strapped to a machine that will beat his chest, in order that the constant supply of phlegm in his lungs will not drown him. I start to lose hope but then a smiling face turns towards our group and inquires as to what honor her granddaughter is presented this day. We tell our story of how we cannot offer our patience or love in service, how our smiles do not belong to a nurse or our brains to a surgeon, but how we have been gifted with skills to design and hearts that are called serve. She smiles and says "that's nice", not knowing that our words don't ring hollow like the many people that have come before with promises of help and encouragement that never hold true.

I pass many other children and the caretakers that grasp onto joy like the firm unrelenting grip of an amazonian sloth. Amazed by the ability of these servants to devote their lives to those that can't move, and possibly even think astounds me. But then I met Erin...

One Servant Engineering group last semester redesigned the hospital's call system. The call system that was implemented, was a standard call system used in most hospitals across the US. Next to each bed in the room dangles a short wire with a small red button on top, easily pressed by a normal person, but to someone as physically challenged as Erin. The task of pushing a small button is impossible.

The team last semester redesigned the button in a way that enabled Erin to push it easily. There still lied another problem though, due to Erin's lack of knowledge of how a call system works. Erin would push the button, and by the time a nurse arrived Erin had forgotten what she had done to call the nurse: there was no immediate way for Erin to know her action caused a reaction. The final design includes some subtle flashing lights and a sweet little jingle reminiscent of later 8-bit video games. This enabled Erin to call a nurse when she had soiled her bed, woken up in the morning, wanted to do something new or just needed a smile. All things she had been unable to do before.

I met Erin while walking, with our smiling bubbly nurse, who was expelling her love for the new call system. Our nurse quickly mentioned "Do you want to meet her?" Unsure of what "meeting" somebody at this... quality of life meant, we all stood with a deer's expression plastered on our faces. She pointed us in Erin's direction and invited us closer with a small gesture of the arm. I stumbled forward, daring to approach closer than the rest of my herd. Stooping down to the floor, I made sure to situate myself in the direction her eyes seemed to be pointed.

Erin's TV was turned off and the nurse smiled at Erin, turning her mass of wheeled metal towards us, more "metallic body" than wheelchair. The nurse proceeded to describe us as "the people that built your call system". I thought I caught a glimmer in her eyes, but it could have just been the lighting. The nurse then held out two hands, one in a fist and the other open palmed as if to give a high-five, yes and no. She then asked "Do you like your call system, Erin?"

For what seemed like days, Erin slowly uncurled her hand, as much as a crumpled up newspaper can be flattened out with nothing but chopsticks. She then reached out slowly and shakily, towards the hands, a grin creeped to her face. She tapped the fist, indicating a "Yes! I enjoy my call system." I've never felt so much affirmation from words unspoken.

Erin retracted her hand, still smiling. As the nurse asked another question, Erin's smile moved to a face of concentration. The Nurse asked "Do you want to say thank you?" Erin's smile leapt back onto her face, and her hand uncurled for a second time, reaching out to touch, the open palm. A no? With her still present smile I realize that her sas had broken through without any need for words or gestures.

In turn, a smile creeps onto my face. Human: that's what she is. She is a daughter, a sister and a friend. She is God's child, and she is alive.

___________________________________

Although this song speaks of other types of problems that people face, and Erin's is not by her own choice. I find the feeling rather fitting.

These are a Few of My Favorite things...

2011-01-16T21:37:00.000-08:00

At the end of every Christmas break, during my college career, I've made it a point to go on random road trips and adventures.

This year was different in that a few of my adventures took place around the Medford area. I made sure to go find a a few hikes to go on and I also dropped into a few random shops and stores that I've never been in or haven't been in often.

I also went up north and hung out in Eugene with my best friend Brendan and my cousin Diana. During this time they had their regular classes in session, but I adventured around the city going to museums and finding random shops and interesting coffee houses.

I love this kind of thing and it's always curious to me, when the people I am staying with, seem to be bothered that they don't have the capabilities to "entertain" me for the full time I am there. In a way I want to say "I am completely capable of finding adventure on my own!" This however, would make me sound unappreciative of the effort they already put into having me. So it sit back and smile saying, "don't worry about it."

(new) Favorite view of the city lights

2011-01-07T22:32:00.000-08:00

I'm a big fan of mother nature. I love hiking, biking, backpacking; generally seeing what there is to be seen of the wilderness. But with all of the glory of trees, plants, animals, rock formations... there is something spectacular about finding a good city overlook and hanging out to watch the city lights. They don't do a whole lot, but they look

cool.

I hiked up to the top of Roxy Ann (little peak outside of Medford) the other night and this is what I got from my camera:

This first one there is the stitched panorama (consists of about 10 shots edited together). The bottom is one of those shots.

Full sizes can be found on my flickr

Goodwill

2011-01-06T22:35:00.000-08:00

January 2^nd – Goodwill – Medford

I found a few good picture frames at Goodwill today, as well as, two crappy 7 irons that will make for some excellent George Fox, quad golf fun.

On the way through the check out I noticed a comical looking wooden bookshelf standing proudly in front of the counter. Upon the top was written something along the lines of, “Everyone should read a good book” with a large goofy smiley face in the midst of the letters that surround the top and bottom in a circular shape. Upon this proud stand stood a clutter of dvds & video games, jumbled in all shapes, sizes and colors.

The only book my eye could find was a large yellow and black book with the title “Divorce for dummies”, as per the “…for dummies” series goes. I chuckled to myself finding the whole situation quite ironic and yet very much at home in a southern Oregon Goodwill.

Soon after thinking this, a man, most likely in his late 30’s, of Mexican heritage wearing a warm looking coat and muddy work boots quickly approached the shelf. With his mustache well groomed and his hair impeccably placed by a Sunday comb, he reached his hand out not hesitating to examine the rack, and withdrew from it “divorce for dummies”. My heart lurched, gripping hope that a smile or a quick chuckle would withdraw from between his lips.

He glanced at the cover, and then flipped through the first couple pages. He turned over the book, examining the back cover. He held it in his hands while looking at the rack, glancing over the dvds as if some hidden message may be decoded from the glazed over cases. He opened the book back up, this time to the center of the book, as he contemplates… something. A woman calls out his name from a row of coats 15 feet behind him. He stands, quickly placing the book back on the shelf. He smiles and rejoins his wife in the search for a suitable pair of work slacks.

What I've been doing a lot of lately...

2011-01-03T22:54:00.001-08:00

...is sitting outside on our deck, in the cold, around a campfire.

For some reason it seems more like home out there, than in the house. My room reminds me too much of high school, the futon upstairs (where I do most of my reading and writing) is uncomfortable beyond reason, and anywhere downstairs is usually plagued by whatever is showing on the TV. So outside is where I sit.

Here's a quick video I threw together:

(oh, and youtube automatically figure out what song is playing in the background. I think that's great :)

Aligning Contradictions

2011-01-01T22:51:00.000-08:00

Today my folks and I strolled through Ashland. One of my favorite places to visit. In a small shop selling all sorts of cool kitchen supplies and homey decorations I came across a stack of small wodden boxes with quotes written all over them. This is on of them:

"Love is giving someone the power to break your heart... but trusting them not to."

Later today I was looking through my collection of old records. Glancing over some Big Band Era charts I came across the track "You Always hurt the One You Love"

Found here is Buble's version: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qOCCq0gjvrE

So I sat and pondered, "which one is it?" Jumping back and forth between conclusions and thought processes, throughout the rest of the day.

Here is where I stand currently:

Maybe they're both right. Maybe love can't be divided between the two, but is actually wholly both. Maybe love is about trusting someone with your heart, but when it comes time that your heart is broken by that person, you pause. Looking at what they did, and why... and you decide to forgive them and work towards a stronger relationship instead of cutting your losses and moving on in life.

But what do I know about love...

New Years Eve

2010-12-31T17:28:00.000-08:00

-December 31st, 2010 - Pony Espresso - J'ville - 9:00am-

I slowly wake, not wanting to escape the warmth of my sleeping bag, while lying in the back of the familie's SUV. I sneakily grab my glasses from the seat-back pocket. Waiting while the condensation clears from the lenses.

I roll over analyzing the time of day to face a plaid wearing old man staring at me through the windshield of a blue van. Startled, I contemplate my actions. Not wanting to draw attention but secretly my body insists, as heart pounds, that I jump up and run down the road in my long underwear to terminate any further contact.

After several long minutes of deciding nothing, I sluggishly pull on my clothes. Grasping the cuffs of my sweater as I pull on my jacket and curling my toes as they slowly enter my shoes as to not surprise my skin with the inevitable rush of cold air.

Climbing out of the car I make my way to the trailhead adjusting my belt as I hit the gravel trail and establish a pace. I need to be at the top before the sunrise occurs.

The trail up to the top of Table Rock seems even more barren and dead than previous visits witnessed. The usual browns of the grass and dark green of the oak leaves are replaced with dead snags, ice crystals and a thin blanket of grey frost. Small streams of yesterdays snow melt now remain stiff, frozen in, alongside and through the trail.

As my quick forceful steps propel me towards my destination, I manage to slip on a pool of ice. Arms shoot outwards, back muscles arch and calves ache as I pull myself upright. Slowly shuffling to the side of this dinky but dangerous pond. I realize how beautiful the scenery is around me.

The city of Medford seen in glimpses through the trees and the clouds lying lightly on top of the eastern hills, seemingly paints a picture of a new day. Often times I will run through life seeking out a goal or a future period of time only to later realize that the journey was worth much more. I ignore the place "where time touches eternity", that is the present, in order to imagine what the few coming months might hold.

I continue on my journey coming across numerous switchbacks, noticing that my breath fails to create that ever present puff of cloud: it's very dry up here. The crunching of my footsteps echoes off the volcanic rock. Which every so often jettisons from the ground similar to the way a free diver bursts through the surface of the water, gasping for air. I wish my dog were here. Annie would gallop ahead on the trail, a grin across her face and tail wagging. This would prevent me from turning around every five minutes to analyze whether a mountain lion is stalking me through the brush.

Courage. That's something I need more of. Confidence is practically my middle name, but courage. That's another story. I think of confidence as being able to face one's fears because of the knowledge or previous experience of the person. Courage is the ability to face fear without knowing the exact outcome or possibly, not having faced this type of challenge before.

As I approach the halfway point I pause to take in the view from "the bench". To only start back up at an even quicker pace in order to approach the top before those golden rays do.

As I stride down the trail my thoughts race back to all of the troubles Christmas break has brought. My grandfather is slowly dying, my mother is lonely, I don't know what direction I should go in life, a friend drowns their sorrow in alcohol, a high school girl sits up and cries because her parents are fighting over who's house she will stay at for Christmas... my thoughts lay motionless and yet roll over me like a large wave tumbles a surfer. Churning over and over, my legs pump faster. My soul cries out "God! Lord, what am I to do?" "Were is your guidance and your peace!?!" "Answer me?"

I quickly look for a distraction imagining that if I were a jedi, I would quickly be turning to the darkside causing branches to sway and lightning bolts would exit my fingertips.

Chuckling to myself, "More likely the lightning would be coursing out of the sides of my temples. As that seems to be where the chaos mostly resides."

As I round the next corner realizing that the top is in sight and as I walk the last few hundred feet, rays of golden sun stream through the trees and glancing off the patches of snow, illuminate the landscape back to life.

I make my way across the plateau, taking in the crisp smell, as my lips and nose tingle from the numbing that has occurred in the sub 20 degree air.

Nearing the steep cliff my gaze goes unbroken as the beauty of "the painting" unfolds to a far grander mural covering everything as far as the eye can see. Realizing that one too many sweatshirts has led to a damp t-shirt and sweaty hands. I move to the very of edge of the cliff removing my jacket, then my sweater and finally the t-shirt with it, embracing the sun's rays for a moment.

As I stand there, I proceed to rip ass out across the rocky terrain. Laughing a deep bellowing laugh and enjoying a bit of humour, man alongside mother nature. Realizing my half-nakedness in a freezing cold environment, I quickly throw back on my clothes, to sit and listen... peace.

I courageously walk back down the trail, still Daniel, but slightly different from before.

I close this account while sipping down the last of a steaming latte. I ask for the readers forgiveness, as although I am changed, the same fears and troubles haunt me: many going unspoken. Also, God's presence is only apparent in a faint aura of peace, only showing itself when my thoughts wander to the darker places of my heart.

Hopefully a redemption story is in the works for 2011

-Daniel Wulff

I hate Christmas music...

2010-12-22T21:51:00.001-08:00

...or at least I pretend to.

Lately I've really disliked any type of Christmas music I overhear, at my house or among the stores. It seems that all of these different Christmas albums fall into 3 categories.

1) Classic holiday remakes by some amazing singer.

I really don't like having a singer that revolves their life around fame and their particular genre of music redoing my classic Christmas songs to sound like all of their previous great hits.

-"Take what was classic and give it's own sound, but please don't over do it this time."

2) Over synthesized remorseful and thoughtful Christmas albums.

These albums are commonly played in the clothing departments of large stores. They usually consist of some completely ridiculous and random combination of instruments. My parent's personal favorite in this categorie is a duet Christmas album with a harp and an out-of -tune oboe.

-"I know Christmas is supposed to be about remembering the babe Jesus coming to earth, but really I'm done crying now. We can go back to the festivities."

3) Finally, the all to joyous and casual songs.

These albums are usually done by some very artistically and well developed musicians. The first that comes to mind is that lovely Christmas album by the Manhattan Transfer. In which their over exuberant voices make staying overnight in a stable, giving birth to a child in a manger, sound like a family camp outing. Full of adventures, laughter and plenty of junk food.

-"Yes I do love Christmas, but my face is getting tired from smiling for so long."

So what makes a good Christmas album?

Hell if I know. I just like complaining. Maybe I'm morose because I know way too many high schoolers are having a crappy Christmas right now.

About half of the kids in the youth group, I've been helping out with lately, have parents that are either divorced or separated. Of these 50%, about a little less than half of those hate Christmas because it means their families will be fighting over who gets to spend what day where. When we asked for prayer requests this past week one girl even asked "Could you pray that I would remember what Christmas is all about, because it's sometimes hard to remember when your parents make Christmas so horrible". She's given up. She no longer prays for her family to stop fighting over her, or for her family to be caught up in the Christmas spirit but instead prays that she might hold onto a glimpse of what Christmas signifies to us as Christians.

So here's my favorite Christmas song right now:

Another Blind Hero

2010-12-13T20:10:00.000-08:00

The video pretty much says it all:

Bobby McMullen is a blind mountain biker.

And here's another one of Bobby competing in the xterra triathlon.

in my life...

2010-12-09T00:51:00.000-08:00

I hide behind fear

Truth is too great

Fear hides inside me

Let truth set it free

A Blind Hero

2010-12-04T00:00:00.000-08:00

Erik Weihenmayer is blind... he also climbed Mt. Everest.

He also led 6 Tibeten kids to climb a mountain of their own in the Himalayas... blind people in Tibet are cursed, beaten, slandered against and outcasted because of the evil things they have done that have caused them to lose their eyesight. I know that of all the blind people I know, none of them chose their fate.

This is their Journey:

My Favorite Quote:

*as a group of blind tibet students, age 12-14, hike up a rocky outcropping* "I can't see me loving nobody but you, for all my life."

Something I enjoy...

2010-11-19T20:23:00.000-08:00

I've really come to enjoy short movies & stories. Throughout the week, you'll find that I post many short videos and movies, on Facebook, that I have found hanging around websites and blogs. The cool thing is that most of these are never more than 10 minutes long, and the connections they can make and the thoughts they can provoke are sometimes really quite amazing. Since I am a college student this is ideal.

I love books... I don't have time for books. I love movies... I don't have time for movies. You see what I am getting at? Of course an occasional movie or book is always awesome, but I'm talking about in the middle of study sessions and piles of homework finding something outside of yourself & homework to focus on and ponder for a few short minutes. These things ultimately keep my sane...

Here are some of my favorite in the last couple weeks:

Playing with light - Mon ami le robot from Cube Creative on Vimeo.

Aloe Blacc | I Need A Dollar | A Take Away Show - Part 1 from La Blogotheque on Vimeo.

Last Minutes with ODEN from phos pictures on Vimeo.

Stuff vs Stuff 'Can vs Sprouts' from Sumo Science on Vimeo.

SKATEISTAN: TO LIVE AND SKATE KABUL from Diesel New Voices on Vimeo.

water from Corrie Jones on Vimeo.

Toby yearns for a life like any other eight-year-old kid. But his mentally disabled father is a constant reminder that life for Toby, will never be normal.

'Water' is a film about a young boy’s struggle to accept his fears, his mentally disabled father and his possible future duty.

My dog is getting old... and might die soon:

2010-10-12T19:28:00.000-07:00

I watched this video today. I really, really loved it. I don't see my dog through the same perspective as this guy but it did move me. My dog has helped me made sense of life many times, it's great.

But I can't help but have a heavy heart... because there are people I know that might die soon too. I love them. More than I'll ever love a dog... and I don't know what to do about it......... love, I guess.

10/12/2010 - Daniel Wulff - Newberg, OR

Last Minutes with ODEN from phos pictures on Vimeo.

Gay = Sin

2010-09-17T23:24:00.000-07:00

video at the bottom: down there \/

I'm a Christian. As a Christian I believe that homosexuality is outside of God's original intention for creation. In that way, I believe homosexual behaviors and intended thoughts are sin.

But... my heart breaks when I see this video. The different images & videos set to a backdrop of "christian" speeches and historical events produces a beautiful film.

I just wish that this group of Men could be loved by a love that goes deeper than surface level by a Christian heterosexual man. I just wish that the sheer vastness of God's love for everyone, could be explained to them. I don't want anyone to preach to them. I don't want anyone to go out and condemn them. I just hope that a Christian man could go and love them for who they are.

With that love and interaction will come questions and hardship, but their picture of Christianity is in deep hurt and so defensive. As well as the majority of Christianity's perspective on homosexuals.

How do we find that balance?

When was the last time these Men were told of God's Grace, instead of God's judgement?

How do you tell these Men that God's judgement is a part of His Grace?

GAY = SIN from Matthew Brown on Vimeo

To Be Content

2010-09-05T01:41:00.000-07:00

(http://vimeo.com/13972943)

I enjoy spending time by myself as much as I enjoy spending time with friends.

A lot of the time I spend by myself, I spend exploring. Whether it be the sub-divisions of Newberg, the stories found between pages or random videos from the internet, I find exploration as much a part of the experience as reflecting & applying that experience.

For some reason I keep coming back to this video. It seems that this man has found something that many college students can't even catch a glimpse of: contentedness.

Youth Camp!

2010-08-27T23:36:00.000-07:00

So a few weeks ago I got to be a cabin leader for the local Free Methodist youth camp. Which took place at a conference center about 45 minutes away from Newberg called Aldersgate.

I had a cabin of 9 middle schoolers. It was a blast. The kids were (of course) a little rambunctious and for some reason I (the new guy) ended up with some of the more troublesome ones.

All in all it was great fun and it was good to get some more experience doing youth group type things with middle schoolers.

Streetlight Manifesto - July 10th, 2010 (not June 10th)

2010-07-13T17:26:00.000-07:00

Random Side Story: Andy, my roommate who bought all the tickets and such for the concert, up until about 3 minutes before we left, thought the concert took place on June 10th. We finally told him that it was July 10th after he was running around like a crazy man because he was afraid we would be late.

So the concert was at Satyricon, a little tiny (tiny) hole in the wall place in Portland. Of course that day, the weather decided to be a very unusually hot sort of weather than only comes to portland 10 days out of the year. Being a very small venue that was packed full of people, the concert quickly turned into a giant mass of sweat soaked people but it was all good fun.

The bands that played were:

-The Wonders (didn't like)

-The Supervillians (enjoyed)

-Streetlight Manifesto (very much enjoyed)

There was also a solo guitarist dude... who's name is currently escaping me.

So here are some songs from Streetlight:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1YUtZ5y13o4

(my favorite)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vdK_pNq3zRI

Oh and here's a video of someone skanking (it's what you do at ska concerts):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jYHfEw48HYo

Fourth of July

2010-07-10T12:22:00.000-07:00

Ah, sweet fourth of July! Since I've been up in Newberg I didn't really have any plans for fourth of July. Matt who lived on my floor last year was having a BBQ at his house, but my roommates forgot to tell me...

Anyhow, I ended up hanging out with some families from church. It was an awesome time. Jeremy's parents live in Portland so we headed down there.

Of course we threw some food on the grill, so we could indulge ourselves in the American tradition of eating too much food, and then proceeded to blow crap up. Then after we got tired of blowing crap up, we went down to the waterfront, to watch other people blow crap up.

Seriously though, the Portland fireworks show is pretty spectacular. Just be prepared for a little claustrophobia when most of the city crowds down to the water's edge.

Eagle Creek Backpacking

2010-07-07T21:08:00.000-07:00

I went to Eagle Creek this last fourth of July. It was awesome.

I ended up backpacking up to Blue Grouse camp, setting up camp exploring around some side trails (realizing my planned trail was overgrown). Then, waking up the next morning to hike up past tunnel falls, and up past 7.5 mile camp. Coming back to camp, and then packing out.

My plan was to head up early Friday morning, hike to Blue Grouse and then take a side trail up to the top of the plateau. Camping on the plateau and coming down early on Sunday morning.

It didn't bring my camera this time because it was raining a bunch, but I have to say the scenery is awesome. It reminded me of a trip I took with my brother up the North Umpqua. Everything was spectacularly green, varying in plant groupings as you hiked farther along the trail. Eagle Creek differed from it's much more "canyon-y" feel, from the steep cliffs that enclosed much of the trail and creek. I would describe it as the North Umpqua on a grander scale. With waterfalls and cliffs that surpass expectation.

My favorite part of the trip was being amazed by tunnel falls. Which is a giant of a waterfall that comes cascading off a cliff that the trail is located along part of, but what you notice as the trail comes closer to the falls, is that the trail passes right under the falls. I don't mean that the trail goes around behind the falls because of an overhang or anything. The trail literally burrows behind the waterfall in an amazing feat of engineer that is a short walking tunnel blasted out of the solid rock. The tunnel constantly drips water and echos a dull thunder. The tunnel is so close to the surface of the cliff, that the falls cascades down, that I've gained an appreciation for the accuracy that can come from many years of experience with dynamite and blasting.

Oh, and this was my first backpacking trip alone. A very refreshing trip. Although, sharing the experience with a friend would make for a much grander adventure.

Mexico 2010

2010-07-05T19:46:00.000-07:00

*sigh* I've got a few things to catch up on...

All right, so, I got back from the annual Mexico Mission Trip a few weekends ago. This year's trip was quite awesome. All the kids were amazing. With really no cliques forming between groups of people. I'm always blown away by the way students change throughout the week. Especially those that come for the first time. A lot of them race to become servants for others by the end of the week, going back to families and friends, asking forgiveness and pursuing a more gracious way of living. This year went really smoothly, no big mishaps or anything...

Well my youth leader did manage to break a taxi's mirror, by steering the van into a, much to small of a, gap.

Mark decided to use the far right lane of this three lane highway on the outskirts of Tijuana, but of course in Mexico the far right lane is reserved for vendors, taxis and broken down semi-trucks. We were trying to pass a slow moving semi-truck before an intersection with stop lights, but after turning into the right lane to pass, Mark (and everyone else in the van) noticed that soon after this intersection, the lane was obstructed by a taxi and a few vending stalls. So Mark, naturally guns it and tries to get around this semi-truck... we get closer and closer to the taxi trying to nudge into the center lane again. We're squeezing by, just... barely and a mirror shatters.

Mark being the respectful youth leader he is... guns it and tries to get down the freeway before the taxi can pull out... it ended up that the taxi had gotten in front of one of the other vans in the caravan, and pulled them over (of course the other van had no idea what happened, as they were all the way on the other side of the semi during the accident). One of the crew leaders quickly decided to start pointing at Mark's van, to which the Taxi driver came after our van (to clarify, I was in Mark's van for the entire situation).

By this time Mark had decided to pull over and wait. The taxi pulled in front of us as Mark stepped out of the van slowly whispering to himself "Well, lets hope I don't get stabbed." An exchange of money was made after Mark shook the man's hand, leading him to see the damage that the pelirrojo had done. Mark was asked for $50 and in return gave the man $80 making a more than satisfied Taxi driver.

Angel's Rest

2010-05-18T22:39:00.000-07:00

So I was planning on going backpacking last weekend (head out after church Sunday, no work on Monday) but the forecast said there was going to be thunderstorms. Of course the thunderstorms didn't actually happen and rain didn't fall until late Monday evening... but whatever.

Instead I tried to round up some people to head to the Columbia Gorge. It ended up that Paige, who lives up in vancouver, was the only one who could go. Anyways, we decided to hike Angel's Rest, which is a sweet place, definitely recommend it as it is a decently short hike for a sweet view. We started the trail about an hour before sunset and sat around up at the top enjoying the views of the Columbia and the Portland city lights.

So here are some pictures. If I can find a computer somewhere around with photoshop, I'll put some HDR pictures together.

Toilet Relationships

2010-04-26T19:46:00.000-07:00

I've gotten along quite well with the far toilet in Penn 1's bathroom. It has always been there when I need it to be, there has always been ample paper etc... but now our relationship is strained. I now walk into that stall and quickly feel insecure and uncomfortable. Ever since last friday we have never been the same.

Last friday I ate dinner at a regular time (5:30-ish). I didn't have any homework to complete so I wandered around campus hanging out with friends. Realizing how tired I was from the week, I decided to go to bed rather early (around 11:30). I ate a kit-kat bar, asked around the floor to see if there were any weekend plans happening with the guys, brushed my teeth and then went to bed.

My eyes popped open at about 3:00am a feeling of nausea overcoming me. I walked quickly to the bathroom knowing that regurgitation was eminent. I wandered around the bathroom, getting more and more pissed off as time rolled by while thinking about finals that week (and the affect being sick would have on them) and my longing to go back to bed. Finally after around a half an hour I walked into the far stall... and the task was completed. I went back to bed and slept through the night.

Days later my uncomforability with the far stall still persists... but alas, only 6 six more days until I can move along with my life.

Summertime

2010-04-16T23:52:00.001-07:00

So, it looks like this summer I'll be working up at George Fox. Which means I'll be staying in Newberg. Which means I won't be living in Medford.

I'm happy to have a job and a source of income but being away from family and friends back home, is a bummer.

Well one week of classes and then finals!!! It's been a great year.

Heros Tainted with Greed

2010-03-13T16:35:00.000-08:00

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/13/science/earth/13zero.html?ref=science

10,000 rescue and clean-up workers for 9/11 are suing NY city for health damages. We praised them because they did their job, because they committed to helping someone else even if it was dangerous. Now they are turning around and suing the city because they regret taking the step of heroism and gaining health complications because of it.

Somehow this illustration isn't as powerful, when you think of those workers suing the city because of the health risks that came out of the situation.

Outdoor Club (Triple Falls)

2010-03-08T19:34:00.000-08:00

I got to lead the Outdoor club up to Triple Falls (just a short ways past Multnomah falls). Well, I didn't really lead it since Sarah (co-leader) organized most of it.

Anyhow, here's some pictures:

Philosophy Using American Idol

2010-02-22T15:48:00.000-08:00

Note: Many of these ideas come from Jon Furman, I've just expanded upon them and have concluded with a seperate point.

----------------------------------------

We'll be looking at the perspectives of each person. Their basic understanding of themselves, as well as the way the people surrounding each person has affected them. (Boiled down, Truth and Lies)

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First Case in Point, Mere Doyle:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WBUCtdZhCKk#t=0m58s

Second Case in Point, Maddy Curtis:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WBUCtdZhCKk

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Compare & Contrast:

How they entered the room:

Mere Doyle: "Pleasure to meet you, finally."

-She has been anticipating this moment for a long time.

-What do you think she has been anticipating? (Success or Failure?)

-To quote earlier in the video "...my life depends on it, because it does"

Maddy Curtis: "Man, this is so surreal meeting you."

-This moment seems unreal.

-Maddy's life doesn't hinge on this moment.

-Maddy puts family before her hobby (singing.)

Family/Friend Support:

Mere Doyle:

-Her family, friends, voice coaches and theater directors all said she was good.

-Mere works retail and she's still able to afford voice coaches, where do you think that money comes from?

-Why would her voice coach not tell her the truth? (not that she shouldn't sing, but that she's not a professional singer) Because he/she would lose their job.

-Why would her friends not tell her the truth?

Maddy Curtis:

-Her parents said she was a very unique and special person, but never mentioned her singing.

Judges' Comments:

Mere Doyle:

-"This is not your thing"

-"There's certain limitations... to what you want to do."

-"You can do what you love but not for this show"

-"It's not gonna work for this show"

Maddy Curtis:

-"A bit of soul in there"

-"I really like you"

-"Very in control"

-"Beautiful voice, a little bit nervous but I like that"

-"You have this old soul about you, authentic"

-"Not annoying"

Contestants' Responses:

Mere Doyle:

-"You can't really say that to me"

-"Everyone says I'm good... my family, my voice coaches, my theater coaches..."

-"You're telling me not to do what I love"

-"They say I'm terrible, that I should give up. That I'm better off as a clown... How dare you!"

Maddy Curtis:

-"Thank You" (19 times, [1 from mom])

-"I really enjoyed singing for you"

-"I feel like I'm on top of the world"

--------------------------------

Analysis:

Looking at these different traits and responses that Mere possesses, I would say that Mere lives in a world surrounded by lies.

However, Maddy lives in a world surrounded by truth.

Let me expand, Mere lives in a world where her parents, voice coaches and friends tells her she is a good enough singer to become a star. When she comes into center stage, there is no thought in her mind that she might fail. She is so entangled in lies that when somebody tells her the truth, that she isn't cut out for American Idol. Her responses are such that it shows how she really thinks about herself, her comments afterward came out of her mouth, and hers alone... so who created those thoughts? She did. It's a sad truth but it is truth nonetheless.

Maddy, is a different case entirely but the thing is, she's not Mere with "a better voice." In fact her parents forced truth on her from an early age. She grew up surrounded by the truth of down syndrome. She knows what pain and suffering is like. (People with down syndrome have the mental capacities of a third grader. Third graders know when they are different, they know when they're being made fun of.) Maddy is also surrounded by love and grace for those kids. Yes, the truth hurts but how much greater is it to overcome that truth with love and happiness. Maddy goes out on that stage, that place she sees only on TV, while still living with her familyin a world of truth.

--------------------------------

Why Christianity is weird... and why it makes sense:

Now we all know that the world is full of pain, death, suffering. This has been brought directly onto the front page of the paper recently with the earthquake in Haiti. Now I'm not here to explain why God allowed suffering in the first place, that's another idea entirely. However, I do think there is something to be said about the suffering that occurs currently as you sit here and read this.

Those of us who know our Old Testament know that Exodus 20 contains the Ten Commandments, verse 16 containing "You shall not give false testimony against your neighbor (NIV)." Now there are a lot of things that could be said about, bearing false witness. Lets looks solely at the basic understanding that God, even in the distant past of the years of exodus, saw telling the truth as being important.

So why is it important to God that we understand the truth?

-So when His Grace is made apparent to us, we would better understand and celebrate His gifts.

-So, as Christians, we can be more active stewards of God. Not ignoring the pain and suffering in the world, but seeking after those that are in that place. Wrapping arms of Truth, surrounded by Grace, around those people. Jesus gives us the ultimate examples of these actions...

John 1:14 - "The Word became flesh, and dwelt among us, and we saw His glory, glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of Grace and Truth."

Jesus threw over tables in the temple (Matthew 21:12-17). Making the hypocritical truth of what burnt offerings had become apparent to everyone there, but also showing his Grace by allowing those in the temple that truly needed healing to immediately step forward and accept his Grace.

Jesus let a prostitute wipe her tears on his feet, with her hair (Luke 7:36-50, very significant when taken in the jewish context). Opening his arms in Grace but also making a point of telling her to go and live a better life (Truth.)

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Hopefully this helps to make sense of some things for you. If you have any questions or comments please let me know.

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I need to do a better job living this out: Balancing Grace and Truth in every situation. I'm sorry, that I'm not better at this. I know that I have caused suffering in people's lives. But hey, there's always room for improvement.

The Death of Love

2010-02-12T23:43:00.000-08:00

I wrote this paper for a narrative writing assignment in my writing class. It tells the story of a life changing event in my life. Ironically I don't often tell the story from my perspective. There might be an event or small details that are partially off, as this all occurred during the sixth grade, in which my brain probably wasn't functioning properly. Critiques are welcome...

“SPRINGFIELD - A memorial service will be held March 7 for Marie Ann DeHoog of Springfield, who died Feb. 28 from injuries she sustained in a car accident. She was 20.”

I was in sixth grade at the time, walking a lonely road trying to create an identity of my own and failing miserably. My dad and I were home alone watching Adam Sandler in his movie “Big Daddy.” I was honestly embarrassed, not knowing whether to laugh or look disgusted at the crude humor and sexual references projected on our TV. I lay on the floor propped up by fluffy pillows that seemed to hug you as gravity pulled you toward the ground beneath them. Dad was reclining on the couch, which was neither soft nor hard. I expected him to fall asleep, awakening his grizzly bear snore. Mom was up in Tualatin at my sister’s bridal shower. My brother was a sophomore at OIT in Klamath Falls, which was about an hour and a half away. He was in love with a girl named Marie. They’d been together since October.

The phone rang. My dad got up to go answer it, so I paused the movie. “Hello?” –pause- “Jon, what’s wrong?”

I lay on the floor of the living room, alone. Listening to my dad’s voice in the next room cry out, “Oh Jon, Oh Jon…” Over and over. Pausing every so often to listen to my brother’s tears run down his face. I lay on that indifferent floor, contemplating going upstairs or approaching my dad and choosing neither. After what seemed like an eternity Dad came around the corner with eyes red after tears flooded his face. He screamed a whisper, “Marie died in a car crash.”

On that fateful day in February Marie and my brother, Jon, sat around and talked all day skipping classes and ignoring phone calls. Which was completely bizarre for them as they were both excellent students, Marie had a 4.0 GPA while studying Nuclear Medicine. Soon evening came around and it was time for Marie to drive back home to Eugene. That weekend some old high school friends were reuniting in memory of a girlfriend who passed away from cancer the year before. Marie enjoyed being in the company of people and serving them with love and a contagious smile.

As Marie was driving up I-5 heading toward home, her vehicle went out of control and swerved into oncoming traffic. Her car collided with a pickup truck. Marie died instantly, her soul ascending home into heaven, her body becoming lifeless and dead. Those beautiful brown curls that cascaded from her head, no longer bouncing with life. That day Marie shared the same fate as her father and his father before that.

My Dad and I went to visit my brother the next day. I remember walking through seemingly endless corridors of the OIT dorms. I walked past many dorm rooms some filled with students laughing, other open doors revealed TV shows and movies projected on unnaturally lit screens and still out of other rooms came the sound of war zones and animated soldiers dying from the click of a mouse or the push of a button. Everything seemed so out of place, my mind whirling unsure of what to expect. My dad approached the door, tears welling behind his eyes, throwing open the door. I watched as my Dad and brother embraced, tears leaping from their eyes and gasps of air raging through their lungs. I stood behind them frantically searching for a way to comfort my brother and not finding an answer.

My brother quickly ran into my arms, overwhelming me as a flood escaped my eyes. I will never forget that embrace. It was if my brother was reaching into another place and time, grabbing at something that he could no longer experience. I thought back to the day Marie and my brother went out and bought a pair of rings together. With these rings they promised that if they weren’t married within three years that they would move on in life. Looking into their eyes I saw beams of love flowing outwards. Now as I held my brother, I only witnessed streams of sorrow.

I later found out that the first conversation that my mom and my brother had after Marie’s death went something like this.

My mom shared her grief and concern with my brother shedding tears like only a mother could do. She then asked if he was “going to be with someone through the night,” since she was worried about my brother’s emotional well-being. My brother, who was never strong in his own faith, up to that point, replied without hesitation, “I either believe God and that he has a plan or I don’t. And I’m choosing to believe God.”

That incredible circumstance of death caused me to question my own faith. My brother’s incredible act of faith caused me to seek after a deeper relationship with God. I am now a child of God in the deepest sense. Not living out my parent’s faith but enjoying a faith solely in God.

"Less than two hours (in Haiti), I saw a murder for the first time in my life."

2010-02-01T00:50:00.000-08:00

If you (christian or non-christian) are in any way interested on what it's like on the streets of Haiti, you should watch this. If you are unable to watch the whole thing, you should at least watch the last bit which is a slide show, starting at 1:07:00.

Heres a link, if the embed doesn't appear: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GQo76Itl6cw

I had the opportunity to visit Mars Hill Church, the sunday that Mark had left for Haiti. He had a pre-recorded sermon, some of which outlined there plans to haiti (which wasn't much of a plan at all.)

Running Naked (feet wise)

2010-01-03T22:01:00.000-08:00

There's been quite a bit of talk about this new idea of "minimalist running" lately. Researcher's have been starting to question the real benefits of shoe companies promoting these running shoes with "more and more technology thrown in."

In fact in the 1960's Olympics in Rome. Ethiopian runner Abebe Bikila won Gold in the marathon... barefoot. While everyone else was wearing the new Adidas running shoes.

Since 1970, when larger, more stabilizing, running shoes first started coming out. There has not been a majority decrease in injuries. In fact knee and ankle problems have increased since Nike came out with it's first hit "running shoe."

This has kicked into a new trend of questioning the "bigger more advanced" running shoe and looking at the alternatives.

Here is a simple video from youtube to start:

Now here is a article pointing out some problems found with running shoes: (including plantar fasciitis - for you dad)

http://www.flotrack.org/articles/view/280-minimalism

And finally an article from the New York Times talking about the companies that have sprung up creating minimalist shoes and the affect they are having on the industry:

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/30/business/30shoe.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1

I just went through a pair of sneakers that I was running in... I think I will try these shoes out:

http://www.vibramfivefingers.com/products/products_KSO_m.cfm

Next Year Baby (a song, quite ironic and hilarious but sadly tru)

2009-12-31T15:44:00.000-08:00

(Just to introduce Jamie Cullum) My first professional Jazz Concert I ever saw was Jamie Cullum, he's an amazingly talented and young artist... the video will show you his unique approach to his piano, musically. (If you get bored you can jump into the main part of the song at 3:00.) Random funny comment, Jamie Cullum endorses Yamaha pianos because they are they only pianos that have the endurance to withstand his concerts.

So here's the live version:

and lyrics:

Next Year,
Things are gonna change,
Gonna drink less beer
And start all over again
Gonna pull up my socks
Gonna clean my shower
Not gonna live by the clock
But get up at a decent hour
Gonna read more books
Gonna keep up with the news
Gonna learn how to cook
And spend less money on shoes
Pay my bills on time
File my mail away, everyday
Only drink the finest wine
And call my Gran every Sunday
Resolutions
Well Baby they come and go
Will I do any of these things?
The answers probably no
But if there's one thing, I must do,
Despite my greatest fears
I'm gonna say to you
How I've felt all of these years
Next Year, Next Year, Next Year
I gonna tell you, how I feel
Well, resolutions
Baby they come and go
Will I do any of these things?
The answers probably no
But if there's one thing, I must do,
Despite my greatest fears
I'm gonna say to you
How I've felt all of these years
Next Year, Next Year, Next Year

Rainy Day

2009-12-15T16:34:00.000-08:00

I’m sitting at my desk, Christmas lights draped across the room. A hot cup of tea steaming next to my notebook filled with reworked chemistry problems. I pour over yellow note pads filled with lecture notes, searching for examples of magnetically charged nuclides. It’s pouring outside, the sky is gray and the rain is gathering into puddles.

Across the street there is a boy with filthy brown sneakers, jeans and a jacket unzipped revealing his now muddy plain white t-shirt. He runs back and forth in the front yard of his house, with a small toy football. He pretends to dodge lineman and weave through cornerbacks. He plays both the quarterback and the wide receiver. He cocks his arm back and while the ball is flying through the air he becomes the wide receiver, squinting through the rain to bobble the ball out of his hands and onto the soaked lawn. He quickly scoops up the ball and spins around another linebacker. He wishes he had someone to join in on his fun.

I imagine that he’s dreaming of when he’ll become just like his favorite player he sees on TV. The day that he goes pro will be the day that his dad will come home early from work to watch his son play football on the small television in the corner of the living room.

Dad should have known that he could have played football with his star, across the street, in the mud and rain, running back and forth across the wet lawn as a busy college student studying chemistry watches in delight.

But instead, his dad stays late for work to earn the couple extra dollars needed to buy the latest greatest Christmas presents. Tell me, how much greater would the gift of time and lasting memories be? What do our hearts truly want for Christmas?

Saturday Market

2009-12-08T12:22:00.000-08:00

I went to Saturday Market with some friends on Friday. It was awesome. It's a very interesting place, great to catch some music and glance at hand-made products and art. I would suggest going if you are in Portland on a Saturday afternoon.

History of Portland Saturday Market
Every Saturday and Sunday from March until December the Old Town/Chinatown neighborhood transforms into a thriving arts and crafts open-air marketplace. Seeing the market’s operations staff of 10 roll out the power lines and delegate booth spaces with precision each weekend for so many years, most of the neighborhood has come to think of Portland Saturday Market (PSM) as a business like any other. But it certainly wasn’t always that way, and some surprising elements still lie at the core of this unusual non-profit operation.
Portland Saturday Market was the brainchild of two women, Sheri Teasdale and Andrea Scharf. Both were artists living in the area who had sold at the Saturday Market in Eugene; their idea was to create a similar style of market in downtown Portland. Beginning in December 1973, the two visited everyone they could think of in the city to sell their idea: an open-air market of all handmade food and craft items. It would be a win-win situation they insisted. Artists would have an economic outlet for their work, customers would gain better access to locally-produced items, and the city would have a new attraction to draw customers into the downtown area.
Receiving positive feedback to their proposal, Scharf and Teasdale recruited three other supporters of the idea – Raul Soto-Seelig, Anne Hughes and George Sheldon – to serve on a preliminary board of directors and incorporated under the name Portland Saturday Market. The new organization was incorporated under Oregon law as a mutual benefit corporation, a special class of institutions that do not make a profit, but exist for the economic benefit of their members, making PSM a non-profit organization that is not tax-exempt. The five founders could have set up the market as a for-profit venture, but they envisioned a market where craftspeople would share the cost of running the market collectively and would keep whatever profit they personally made. It was to be a market for the members, governed by the members.
With legal standing firmly established, Scharf and Teasdale were able to apply for a startup grant from the Metropolitan Arts Council, which gave PSM $1,000. But they still didn’t have a location for the market. Enter Bill Naito. Naito offered them a parking lot, known as the "Butterfly lot" owing to the large butterfly mural looming over the market.
For the first year that the market operated, there was no site plan. Members set up booths wherever and they chose, working it out with their neighbors to make sure nobody’s booth blocked anyone else’s. As the market grew, vendors began arriving earlier and earlier to claim their favorite spots, leading to the establishment of the ‘seven o’clock rule’ at the start of the 1975 season, which stated that no one could start putting up a booth or claim a spot before 7:00 am. A few weeks later, a clear site plan was created for the first time, marking out 8’ x 8’ booth spaces, defining aisles and a pattern for customer traffic.
The market moved to its current site under the Burnside Bridge in 1976, and started staying open on Sundays the following year. Things have changed a lot from the early days. PSM has over 400 members and generates an estimated $8 million in gross sales annually. It has become a central economic engine for the historic Old Town/Chinatown neighborhood, and attracts an estimated 750,000 visitors to this area each year
But some important things have stayed the same. PSM could never have gotten started without the cooperation and aid of the city and of the Naito family, and still relies on those long-term partnerships. PSM’s board of directors continues to be made up of a majority of market vendors, putting market governance in the hands of its vendors. Six full-time and ten part-time staff members administer the operations and various programs of the market, including PSM’s newly designed websitewww.portlandsaturdaymarket.com. Items are still sold by the people who make them, giving the customers the chance to talk directly with the artisan about their craft and why artists choose to make their living at the market.

Silver Falls State Park

2009-11-23T15:52:00.000-08:00

I took the outdoor club out to Silver Falls State Park. It's a little bit south from Newberg off to the east of I-5 a ways. It was more spectacular than I had imagined. If you head up this way you should stop there and go for a hike. There is also a cozy lodge with a fireplace and a cafe.

We hiked 6.9 miles hitting 10 waterfalls.

(South Falls, 177ft)

(The path goes behind the South Falls... it's kinda cool)

(The trails between the waterfalls went along this river)

(Lower South Falls, 93ft)

(Another view of Lower South Falls, you could also walk behind this one)

(Lower North Falls, 30ft)

(Double Falls, 178ft, notice Andy in the bottom left corner)

(Middle North Falls, 106ft, a good spot to eat lunch)

(North Falls, 136ft, keep in mind the entirety of the river sits on this rock shelf... pretty sweet)

(and we got bored with our cameras...)

Road Trip

2009-11-17T20:40:00.000-08:00

So the guys on my floor decided to randomly go on a road trip.

We finished this route in under 26 hours:

View Larger Map

You can find some videos on my facebook.

Here is a taste of what occured:

REI Return Sale

2009-10-25T19:28:00.000-07:00

REI Portland

Every single REI accepts returned items that didn't live up to their reputation or had some kind of flaw. So what happens to all of these returned items...

Well, they get thrown in the basement, and then they sit there... for a few months. At which point REI will open up it's basement (in which every single item has been checked and discounted) to any REI member who is willing to wait in a long line to see what kind of unwanted products are piled up in this cavernous place.

A friend from George Fox, her sister and myself headed over to REI around 11:00pm to find that the tent line (yes people camp out for this thing) surrounded a whole two sides of the building. We set up our own tent (I myself just slept in the open), chatted for a bit and then hit the sack.

6:00am rolled around and I was awakened by some more members arriving to await in line with a coffee in hand. I went back to sleep...

7:15am rolled around and I began packing up, following the example of the other "tenters."

8:00am rolled around and I was now scrunched up closer to the Garage doors awaiting for the store clerks to let us in.

10:00am rolled around and I was waddling back to the car with an armful of random gear...

The Haul:

Montrail running shoes: $19.83 Reg: $110 Used once, did not like fit

Stainless 27oz. Water Bottle: $4.83 Reg: $18.95 Used, bought too many.

REI Minimalist Bivy Sack: $29.83 Reg: $81.20 Used once, no return excuse

REI Traverse Day Pack: $39.83 Reg: $79.50 Used outside, no excuse

REI Ultralight Rain Pants: $29.83 Reg: $79.50 Used once, wrong size

Total Savings: $245

Backpacking on Mt. Hood

2009-10-13T14:50:00.000-07:00

So last weekend, here at Fox it was a three day weekend. So myself and some other peeps went backpacking up on Mt. Hood.

Friday: Hiked in about 5 miles and set up camp

Saturday: Day hiked about 10 miles (round trip) to Ramona Falls

Sunday: Hiked back out around 5 miles

We started out Timberline lodge

It was a little cold but we warmed up quickly when we hit the trailWe stayed on the PCT (Pacific Crest Trail) for almost the entire weekend

This is where we ended up camping (we stayed here both nights)

Here are some cool views of the trail on the way to Ramona Falls

...and here we are at the falls (From left to right Nick, Debra, Crystal, Gretchen and myself)

What do you do during your study breaks?

2009-10-13T14:32:00.000-07:00

As for me, I've been using my available supplies (post-it notes & tape) to express myself artistically... Sweet, sweet boredom.

Photography Fun

2009-09-27T23:45:00.000-07:00

So I'm in Photography 1 at George Fox, in which we shoot and develop our own black and white film.

I'm finding the actual developing process to be quite entertaining. It's amazing how much you can change the picture just by using filters and exposure time while printing. I thought I would share a few examples from my first roll of film.

(Larger Size)

Brain Sex

2009-09-18T20:59:00.000-07:00

Austin, one of the Penn 1 guys is doing a survey for a psychology class. The title is somewhat hilarious (as seen above.) It takes six steps to complete the survey with sections ranging from spotting differences in pictures to the size of your fingers to the attractiveness of different facial characteristics.

The results give you a glimpse at the basic differences in male-female brains and what areas of your own brain are more masculine and which are more feminine.

For example I am able to spot differences in the arrangments of objects similar to that of a women's brain (therefore I'm supposed to be able to find the remote better than most men). Also, I am able to sympathize with people more than most males but less so than most females. I also prefer feminine looking faces (thank goodness.) Finally, I scored extremely high (perfect) in my ability to mentally rotate 3-d objects...

If you have a half an hour, and a ruler. You should take this test it is extremely entertaining.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/science/humanbody/sex/

Honoring Alexander Spycher (1987-2009)

2009-09-13T12:07:00.000-07:00

Here is an article of memory towards Alex

When someone is suddenly taken from the world, emotions run high and questions are asked. Why now? Why him? For what reason?

These questions will not be answered immediately, and sometimes won't be answered in our lifetime. This does not mean that you should give up searching for these answers.

If you have deep (hard) questions that are on your mind. I suggest trying to look at them from a different perspective. Look at how it caused other people to live their lives. Usually a majority of people that had a personal relationship with someone that passed away, will find they strive to live for the best qualities in that person or appreciate the smaller things in life.

Death also reminds us of the small section of time we live in, compared to the history of our universe. It causes us to strive for the things we appreciate and live for the things we believe in.

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"If I have any words of advice, I would tell you to trust yourself and your dreams, never let any person take your dreams away, for at points in your life, dreams are the only thing you will have left."

- Alexander Spycher

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Even though I was never aware of Alex's existence my comfort and love goes out to those affected by Alex's death.

Peace

2009-09-12T13:17:00.000-07:00

"At one time a famous artists' association announced a contest. All pictures entered in the competition were to depict "peace." The winner would be awarded a large sum of money.

Paintings of all sorts were submitted. There were serene pastoral scenes; placid lakes; an intimate cottage scene, cheerful and snug before a cozy fireplace; untrammeled vistas of freshly fallen snow; a painting of tranquil, windless dawn in opalescent colors.

But the painting selected by the judges for the first prize was very different from all the others. It depicted the height of a raging storm. Trees ben low under lashing wind and driving rain. Lightning zigzagged across a lowering, threatening sky. In the center of the fury the artist had painted a bird's nest in the crotch of a gigantic tree. There a mother bird spread her wings over her little brood, waiting serene and unruffled until the storm would pass. The painting was entitled very simply, peace." -Catherine Marshall, The Helper (pg. 185)

Church Visitation

2009-09-06T13:04:00.000-07:00

If socialism/communism "worked". Where the poor had money, the hungry were fed, everyone had shelter, no one was sold into the sexual slavery, no one was killed so others could gain power... If the world was a relatively good place... Then how many Christians would be in this world?

Invention Time!

2009-09-06T09:30:00.000-07:00

An 8-bit processor has recently been developed at University of Michigan that runs strictly off of air. No metal, no electricity, no circuits...

It uses a binary 1's and 0's system. Controlled by valves and different flaps, which makes it very mechanical and interesting. Not what you usually what you think of when microprocessor come up.

This would make low-powered processing capable in places that wouldn't have electricity easily available.

The Randomness of College

2009-09-02T20:21:00.000-07:00

When people get bored at college... they don't turn on the TV or just sit around and wait for something to happen. They usually browse the dorm hall, see if anyone else is bored and come up with an idea.

Here are some examples

Furniture Rearranging:

Evening jam sessions/worship: (we're starting a ska band)

First Day of Classes

2009-08-31T14:49:00.001-07:00

Woohoo!!! No Homework.

I wasn't really expecting that at all...

So orientation was good. Got to do a lot of fun activities and meet lots (and lots) of people. Our floor (Penn 1!) is a pretty chill group of guys. The majority of us are already pretty good friends.

Andy (my room mate) has been sick, so I've been hanging out in the lobby quite a bit.

Anyways, there is a quick update... while I still have some free time.

If you want to talk or chat, you can catch me on facebook or skype. Feel free to call as well.

Oh... and singing until your throat is sore is awesome.

Off to College

2009-08-26T14:09:00.000-07:00

I'm leaving tomorrow morning, very early. I've got too much stuff in the car. I'm really tired... but still excited.

*edit* apparently the title glitched*

Gold Mining

2009-08-21T12:56:00.001-07:00

Last weekend I got to go Gold Mining down in California. My friend from south, Bee, goes down along the Klamath River every year for a week or two and mines for gold with his family.

So this year I was able to go down for two days/three nights. I went down Thursday evening after work and stayed friday and came back saturday evening.

We mined at Beaver Creek at the Ron's claim (Bee's dad). We were using a dredge... which is technically illegal starting that Wednesday previous, but the wonderful government of California decided to start an environmental study of the effects of dredging but still sell permits to dredge through September 1st.

So here's some pictures:

The dredge: It's like a giant underwater vacuum... Ron worked the big hose part. While Bee, Myself or Jon (another friend) moved boulders and rocks out of the way (to get to the gravel) or kept rocks from clogging the dredge. Then we'd stop every hour or two and pick through the collection looking for flakes and small nuggets.

The Winches: We had a pulley system, with the winches to move larger boulders that we weren't able to move by hand... it was a pain to take apart... I don't know how easy it was to put up.

and a cool shot of the pulleys (worked by hand) that we used to get everything up and down out of the canyon.

Our findings... we found about three quarters of an ounce on Friday and about three ounces for six days. All around 16 karat, which is about $800 an ounce.

Union Creek

2009-08-12T22:30:00.000-07:00

We got to go camping last weekend... at Union creek. It was a lot of fun. My folks, Crystal and I met up with Uncle Phil and Auntie Gay, along with Devon. We went fishing and did a little hiking and mostly just enjoyed the trees and each others company.

I had a couple pictures but they won't upload right now

...Well, I guess this one worked.

Industrious Insect

2009-08-04T20:38:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I got to go to Lee + Tina's, to hang out with Trevor, Diana and Conner while the family was up in Portland at a wedding. Left straight from work Thursday and came home after work on Monday. I had a lot of fun... a very enjoyable weekend.

The weekend before this last one I was doing something all weekend (it must have been important)

Next weekend I'm camping

The weekend after, is my last weekend before college.

I feel like I need to plan something...

RadioShack is overpriced

2009-07-21T21:55:00.000-07:00

So Sunday I stopped by radioshack to look for a dvi (F) to hdmi (M) connector... they were selling it at RadioShack for $39. I found the same thing on amazon.com for $0.70 + $2.00 shipping and handling.

Mission Trip Slideshow

2009-07-20T18:16:00.000-07:00

So yes, our church's youth group (First Presbyterian Church of Jacksonville: jvillepres.org) got to go down to Tijuana again, on our annual mission trip. This year was much different for me, because instead of being a student I got to be the photographer. This also included the task of making the slideshow.

The experience of Mexico or the feelings that comes with it can't be expressed through words, song, dance, slideshows, photos... but this sums up what we did. Enjoy...

The full length version will be available on DVD around mid-august... you can contact the church or me for more information.

Andrew Bird...

2009-07-20T17:51:00.000-07:00

So I got to go see Andrew Bird in Concert last Thursday, it was pretty awesome. Amazing music, lots of hippies and great food.

He whistles, sings and plays violin and guitar... he's a great composer of his music and it is all very original.

In concert he plays his music by recording multiple loops of himself whistling and playing violin and then controls, when they are turned on and off, by a set of pedals. It's very interesting stuff.

Also, Portland Cello Project was there, they also brought Justin Powers and Laura Gibson... they played some pretty amazing stuff. Many covers of famous songs and a few of their own arrangements.

I also went camping in Butte Falls with a bunch of guys from church. We had fun lighting stuff on fire, jumping off water falls and such.

Today's events...

2009-07-07T21:28:00.000-07:00

Today was an interesting day at work...

This morning I got to drive the forklift around a ton to pick up all the trash around the lot, which is always more fun than regular tasks.

Then Uncle Lee and Cousin Trevor showed up to fix a "back-up" issue with the network (something about how the finances were stored on the Shelter One computers.) Donna let me leave 15 minutes early for lunch so I could hang out with them. (yeah!)I've never been known to come away from a fast food restaurant feeling 100%... I usually blame it on "the truckload of calories hitting my stomach". So when I got home, I got bored, so I counted up the calories for that lunch. It turned out to be about 1880 calories (everyone of them delicious)... but it's not like I can't use them ;) (Thanks for lunch Uncle Lee)

Then, towards they end of the day Mike (from work) hoisted me up to the warehouse roof on the forklift so I could fix a leaking patch on the roof. So I got to spend about an hour and a half on top of a metal roof 30 feet off the ground, scraping, prying, drilling and gouging at that horrible excuse of a patch job... but I do have to say... it was a great view from up there. For some reason being on top of roofs has become a very relaxing way to work, for me. Something about being away from everyone else and being able to look out and see the world around me... it keeps me happy.

Anyways, watched Office Space and ate some good chicken with Pops... Scrubbed some skin off my arm trying to get this caulk off of me (I'm oozing a little bit)... and... I'm looking forward to Movie Night on Friday (more on that later).

Summer Job

2009-06-29T18:58:00.000-07:00

This summer I get to work at my Uncle's factory, building shelters. I would briefly describe them as mobile buildings, usually used for electronics and electrical equipment. You can see all the different styles of buildings we make at the web site.

I've been working saws, buffers, sanders, screw guns, torque guns, forklifts and taping, nailing, screwing, vacuuming, sweeping, gluing, painting, lifting, carrying and moving all sorts of stuff.

I work Monday through Thursday. Each day lasting 9 and a half hours. The hardest part is waking up at 5:15 in order to get dressed, eat breakfast, pack a lunch and drive to Merlin.

The guys that work there are very... "interesting." They are all pretty friendly. Cracking dirty jokes and cussing all the time, it kinda reminds of High School.

A Little Encouragement (Tale from Mexico)

2009-06-28T16:24:00.000-07:00

So, come the second morning of our mission trip, all of us kids piled into the vans in San Diego(a different pace from the bus ride down). Today was border crossing day.

We first have to drive through San Diego, along small roads and large highways alike. On this short section of our journey we get to witness the skyscrapers and the ghettos, the junker cars and the limos.

That day along the six lane wide highway we noticed a police officer in front of a beautiful convertible escorting this very well dressed and athletic looking black man. (*sidenote* Our van was the last in our line of cars.) I looked closer to see if this was one of the many rich and famous known for living down in Southern California. He glanced over casually. So naturally, myself (and a few other teens in the van) gave a friendly wave. As he was pulling ahead of us, he started looking down at the floor in the passenger seat, fumbling around for something.

As he started to pull away on the off-ramp, his arm shot up over the top of his convertible's windshield holding a wonderfully black and worn Bible. His arm unchanging in the fast wind, it stood like a pillar of concrete... a gesture of encouragement as our caravan of white mission vans made our way towards the border.

One Cheap Soccer Ball... One Beaming Kid (Tale from Mexico)

2009-06-23T20:21:00.000-07:00

We brought... I want to say about 30 soccer balls down to Mexico with us. Now these weren't the best soccer balls in the world. They were probably bought from one of our local Targets. Of course they were brand new and of course they weren't utter crap... but my point is, these were soccer balls not some wondrous lottery ticket or a "Brand New Car!"

(as a side note) Mexicans don't express themselves heavily. In their culture they aren't known to cry when there hurt, laugh loudly when they find something funny or jump for joy when something makes them happy.

So I was with Mark, Becky and Bruce (all leaders on the trip) heading back to camp after a long day working on the outskirts of Tijuana. We were driving through the streets with a couple of soccer balls stuffed under the seats in our white chevy van. There is a big plaza (if you can call it that), it's really just a big intersection of dirt roads where some people set up their shops.

There was a kid with a backpack on (the picture above is another random kid that was in Tijuana) walking home from school (he was in his school uniform still.) Mark sticks his head out the window as he's slowing down and yells "Nino!" (which is about the extent of Mark's spanish vocabulary) He then grabs the soccer ball from the back seat and sticks it out the window.

I've never seen such a small kid with such a big backpack run so fast. Beaming as his hands outstretched caught this soccer ball bought from Target (for a few measly dollars.) He then stood there smiled and waved as we pulled away... now as a Christian we are called to help the poor.

Luke 12:33 "Sell your possessions and give to the poor. Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will not be exhausted, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys."

Material possessions will wear out in time... they will be turned back to dust and dirt. Instead of keeping these "temporary" things, what if you give them away... some will say "well then someone else now has a possession that won't last"... but I say, Not only does that boy have a soccer ball but he has a curiosity towards these "people in vans" who call out "Que Dios te bendiga" as they drive by.

My life is too precious to waste on money, fame or fortune. I would rather spread the word of God and warn those of their sin and their deserved punishment (eternity in Hell.)

Back from Mexico...

2009-06-22T22:27:00.000-07:00

So, yup. I just got back from my Mexico Mission Trip yesterday. Lots of fun. We worked hard and were able to build three houses. I'll be posting some random stories as I have time.

So a certain question comes up fairly often. "Why would you pay to go to Mexico for a week and build a house."

My response to this isn't "to necessarily to make someone's life better" or "to provide shelter for a responsible family trying to survive". Although those are great points, the main reason for us going down there is to spread the gospel. That no matter how poor or rich, healthy or sick you are someone created you. Gave you free will, watched you fall and sacrificed himself to save you from the punishment you deserve. (of course there is some more behind all of it, but you get the point)

It was a great time and not only did we help others but we helped ourselves (more to come). I became good friends with some people and even helped someone through their own hard decisions they've come against in their life.

Since I get to make the slideshow this year, I'll be posting that down the road (it's going to take awhile to put together).

Summer fun...

2009-06-12T21:23:00.000-07:00

So after school was finished for myself I did quite a few fun things... first I went backpacking with my brother (thanks again). We went up the North Umpqua starting a little below the hot springs (which are nice to sit in and relax at the end of a hike.)

Also I went to many awesome graduation parties. It's so much fun to hop around to different people's houses and hang out with the family and friends that haves supported them throughout high school. Did I mention the graduation parties are awesome?

After graduation I went to the "after party" at vibes. Which was rather disappointing since not a lot of people showed up. Although, I was able to make over $360 in prizes...

Finally my close group of guy friends that I hang out with pretty often, got together and decided to go on a rafting trip down the wild and scenic section of the rogue... It was awesome. Doug Gardner headed it up (thank you) and we had a blast.

Here is a video of that experience... if you like small animals, then be warned... as our group belongs to the male sex, we find entertainment in "playing with" animals. (As you can see here squawfish have been unwanted for many years, the turtles and salamanders... well we just got bored.) This trip was awesome... lots of fun and laughs.

Now I'm off to Mexico on a Mission Trip... this year I get to take pictures and make the slideshow. I'm currently trying to pack cameras and gear together with clothes... crud, well it looks like the bag I already took down to church doesn't have my tool belt or hammer in it... I guess we will find out how much stuff I can fit in one backpack....

My Senior Project

2009-06-12T16:34:00.000-07:00

So, at my school all senior are required to do a senior project. This includes an eight page paper, a 40 hour project (of your choosing) and a speech to present what you did.

My project was compiling my grandfather's stories into a book. This can be browsed through Here: Link Using this ID: 1081138 and this password: 2621305

For my paper, I researched the benefits of Classic storytelling and the reasons for it's lack of popularity today. You can read it below...

The Lack of Classic Storytelling in Modern Culture

In the twenty-first century, literacy has become the E-ticket to joining civilization as a human being. There are still thousands, if not millions, of people in the world that are not able to read and write. Does this make them unintelligent? Of course it does not make them any less intelligent than anyone else. In fact some of the best leaders in the world could not understand a single written word of their own language. Some didn’t even belong to a written language, they then relied on classic oral storytelling. Storytelling has been around for millennia. Classic storytelling has been responsible for bringing families together, recording the history and cultures of those no longer existent and reducing the stresses of everyday life.

The Hmong people of Laos were airlifted to the United States directly after the Vietnam War. These people had no written language of any kind. In America they were subjected to the limits involved in writing and translating into the English language. Among the Hmong, many elders have been known to say, “The story in English is not the story; and the story written is not the same as the dance.” (Baldwin 38) This struggle to communicate story as it was meant to be still occurs today. Instead of sticking to classic story telling of days past, Americans have turned to other media to hear a story.

According to a New York Times Article, published January 2, 2008, 1.42 billion movie tickets were sold. That’s 27.3 Million tickets per week (Barnes). Movies are another form of storytelling, right? They tell a story don’t they? In reality film movies are really a form of story-listening/watching. People can’t share stories with a movie. There is no tangible personal connection between you and the film makers or characters of the movie. Even one of the largest storytelling radio shows in the US, “This American Life” which still lacks a lot of the personal connections that occur in a real life occurrences, only has 1.7 million people listen in each week (“About the Radio Show”). Today oral storytelling, in the US is a major part of a minor group of people’s lives. So where have all the stories gone?

Television shows, movies and books make up most of the stories that people face on a weekly basis. They take up so much time and supply enough creative thoughts to the individual, that most people are content with these non personal stories. So what is so important about oral storytelling? How does a tradition so ancient have any real benefit within the lives of people in the modern age?

Stories connect us. Sharing experiences lets people share their wisdom, as well as, gather knowledge from other people’s lives. During the rule of the Roman Empire, news of leadership change, wars won and construction projects completed by their emperors were all told on the coins of that time (Schwarz 1). They were easily distributed and didn’t deteriorate easily. This helped keep the citizens, under the rule of the Roman Empire, feel as part of a bigger society and not be confused by the lack of clear leadership. This was important in keeping a large group of people feeling connected. More importantly, stories can connect people in a more personal way.
As people are placed into this confusing world, hopefully everyone can wake up to find themselves surrounded by a group of people that love them. These people are special to the individual’s health. These people want to understand what someone is going through. These people will listen to your stories and in return share their own experiences.

James P. Krehbiel, a licensed professional counselor and nationally certified cognitive-behavioral therapist, puts it best in his article “The Benefits of Telling Your Story,” when he says, “Family members who share their stories enrich relationship connections. Story-telling is an emotional experience and creates an opportunity for healthy bonding to take place. We only fully know an individual based upon the degree of emotional expressiveness conveyed. Story-telling provides ample opportunity to get to know each other better (Krehbiel).”

Sitting down with older family members and listening to their experiences that have taken place to get to where they are at today can be an eye opening experience unlike any other. They can tell you how different growing up without electricity was. How Grandpa only went to school until he was 14 because he needed to work in the factory in order to help feed the family. The world can change in a matter of minutes and for better or for worse, has survived.

Spending time talking to a grandparent about the farm they lived on. The experiences of food shortages that occurred winter after winter. The amount of work it took to get the entire crop in before it began to deteriorate. The knowledge of equipment their father acquired by personally fixing anything that broke, in order to save money.

This is how the bonds between us and another individual can grow into the most remarkable respect and love. Christina Baldwin puts it nicely in her book Storycatcher “Story opens up a space between people that is unbound from the reality we are standing in… Story weaves a sense of familiarity. We are simultaneously listening to another’s voice and traveling our own memories (Baldwin).” Connecting stories between you and your best friend can start a deeper relationship that can end up in marriage. A connection between you and your brother could cause you to start a business together that flourishes and thrives. Finally, connecting stories with a co-worker could develop a relationship that might save your life from internal depression. In any circumstance, listening to someone tell an interesting story, and reacting in kind, is much more beneficial than sitting in front of a movie screen or reading a book about a boy you will never meet.

In the same way stories can teach us about history and the culture that might have surrounded an ancient civilization. Music, books, movies, news, religions, paintings and architecture all teach us about societies and cultures from the past. Nothing can depict a scene more clearly than a storyteller can. Not because they can describe things in such detail (a movie might do a better job at that), but because it is impossible to ask a movie what it meant by “the Conquistadors addiction”. Any storyteller would be happy to point out the Spanish explorers’ addiction was to find gold in the 15th century.

Before writing was invented and up until the printing press was invented in 1439, many people made a living memorizing and telling stories. These bards, poets, minstrels, skalds, rhapsodies, udgatars, griots, ashiks etc., all belonged to separate cultures but performed the same basic function. They were to spread the current news and entertain the people. These storytellers would travel to faraway lands and come back with exciting tales of exotic places. Wherever they went, if they were good storytellers, they would be fed and have a place to sleep (Robinson, History of).

One example of this can be found in the book Roots, written by Alex Haley.
“Then they told me something of which I’d never have dreamed: of very old men, called griots, still to be found in the older back-country villages, men who were in effect living, walking archives of oral history. A senior griot would be a man usually in his late sixties or early seventies; below him would be progressively younger griots and apprenticing boys, so a boy would be exposed to those griots’ particular line of narrative for forty or fifty years before he could qualify as a senior griot, who told on special occasions the centuries-old histories of villages, of clans, of families, of great heroes. Throughout the whole of black Africa such oral chronicles had been handed down since the time of the ancient forefathers, I was informed, and there were certain legendary griots who could narrate facets of African history literally for as long as three days without ever repeating themselves (Holly 574).”

The oldest tale known to exist is the epic poem Gilgamesh dating back to the 27th century BC, the story of a Sumerian king who did great deeds. Even prior to this, the Egyptians were the first to record that stories were being told. Hieroglyphs depict that pharaoh Cheops was entertained by his son’s grand tales and stories (Robinson, History of). There are tales out there even older then Gilgamesh, stories that were passed down from generation to generation. They were never written down but were passed along orally for thousands of years.

Tales often explained confusing disasters, moral standards, beliefs, or even laws of society. They were passed on from generation to generation conveying the wisdom and knowledge of past experiences. Psychologists have concluded that part of being human is inventing and telling stories. It defines humanity. Humans are the only animals, which we know of, who invent stories for the sole purpose of having someone else listen to them. Whether you like it or not, storytelling is part of our history and our heritage. (Robinson, History of)

The Irish have a wonderful sense of history and heritage within their stories. The true essence of Ireland can be found within the stories and legends that are still told and retold today. Even the oldest known European poem originates from Ireland. It was recorded around 400 AD, when writing came to Ireland. Even though writing was starting to taint the emotions and experience involved in hearing a great story first hand, the Irish preserved much of the excitement involved in hearing a great story by surrounding the tales and poem with great music. Sometimes sad, sometimes happy; a great song reflected many of the same qualities of inflection that a great storyteller would have been able to mold and shape in his depictions of old tales. The Irish have truly developed a “gift of the gab,” not seen anywhere else in the world (Robinson, Storytelling in Ireland).

In Europe during the 1900s Sigmund Freud coined the term the unconscious. “It was a part of our mind below the surface of the conscious mind that was the dumping ground for impulses and desires that the consciousness deemed unsuitable for polite society.” (Mitchell) Peter O’Conner, a professional psychologist, believes that so many myths and stories across time are universal. The anthropologist Joseph Campbell even went as far as to write a book where he took all the myths and legends from across the world and condensed them down into one single universal set of stories. This story is able to make better sense of our lives and helps to find a path through the ups and downs.

Dr. Jonathan Young, who launched The Center for Story and Symbol, supports a theory which many more psychologists also support. This is a basic summary of that theory. When you go through life different changes and experiences are really quite confusing. Whether good or bad these “checkpoints” of life, have been found in many tales and stories that really act as road maps or guide books to the unfamiliar (Mitchell).

Joseph Campbell’s book “Hero’s Journey” goes into great detail about each part of the process that will take place during an event in your life. Usually there is a call, usually a troubling event that comes out of an ordinary experience and starts you in the direction of an adventure. In classic stories this could be war, a murder of a loved one or something similar. In our lives this could be similar to losing a job, or a divorce or something that can’t be resisted. No doubt these types of experienced can be new and disorienting. We have a great advantage though. Characters in stories and myths have been through similar types of challenges and temptations. We can use their experiences as well as the experiences of the people surrounding us to get through these struggles (Mitchell).

A conference in Vermont called “The Psychology of Courage” was attended by many individuals looking for the courage to stand up against enemies. What they came to find was a conference dedicated to a very subtle, realistic and feminine approach (McGuire). Elizabeth Bernstein, the coordinator and creator, explains, “The word ‘courage’ originally meant to speak you mind with all your heart.”

She goes on to say, “The word was taken over by male warriors, and it got to be ‘Let’s slay the dragon.’ But when you have courage to speak you mind with all your heart, you’re true to yourself (McGuire).” Well what does this have to do with story telling? The entire idea of speaking one’s mind with all one’s heart revolves around the idea of telling one’s story. In order to be able to communicate one’s thoughts, beliefs, and perspective, a person has to tell his or her own story. It builds strength and confidence in who they are as an unique individuals.
In a completely unrelated book Storycatcher, Christina Baldwin says, “The tension between what is said and what is not said is not just a peculiarity of my family: this is the dilemma of the human family. It takes courage to tell our stories. It takes belief that our stories will be received and held in respect. It requires that some mechanism is alive and structured in the community around us to hold who we are individually in the context of who we are collectively.(18)” Our reward for telling our story is a great relationship and connection to the person we told it to.
Holding a story inside and never showing it to anyone else is really a selfish act that will end up causing a lot of stress and pain. One’s story could be a wonderful tale about one’s adventure at the lake or the horrible experience of one’s brother getting killed overseas. Sharing that story with someone else will help one connect with that person. The sympathy that one can get from that person or the joy one can share with that person can completely change your day.
Here is a wonderful story to really get the feel for how something small can change one’s day. From Christina Baldwin’s book Storycatcher.

"Attending a conference in California not long ago, I found myself standing in a line waiting to buy fancy coffee. One by one people reached the counter and placed their orders; “skinny latte double-shot tall.” I could see I would be in this line a while, so I took a little risk. Turning to the person next to me I asked, “So what’s your first memory of coffee?”
The man’s face lit up. “Waking to the smell of coffee on school morning. It meant my mother was already up. It meant we’d get hot breakfast”

“Oh,” the next stranger joined in. “Ever heard of Swedish coffee? My mom used to boil the grounds in a pan and drop a raw egg into it to congeal the grounds together.” Within minutes, we were storytelling and laughing and the kids behind the counter were saying, “Wait ‘til I tell you this one…”

As I left I suggested to the young espresso makers, “Next time you have a long line, just get them talking. It’ll keep everybody cheerful.” This is the choice to create deliberate story.
When we are paying attention, and when we are paid attention to, we learn to take our place in the story going on around us (Baldwin 35).”

As our life twists and turns through our busy schedule we can sometimes forget the joy of sharing a quick story with someone else close by. Connecting to someone from a different region who is accomplishing a task completely different then one’s own in and of itself can make the day all the more exciting.

The people of modern day societies often disregard the personal tales surrounding themselves. They ignore the underdog story of the local soccer player, the story of the local mountain man or the miracle of the single mother raising a family of four. Ourselves on the other hand can start a conversation in a store, recall a classic tale to a group of children or learn about ancient Greece by reading the myths and legends from that era.

The world will always have storytelling as part of its being, as long as humans still exist. The individuals of society are responsible for telling their own stories, however, and passing on stories from before our time, in order to grow closer to those we love, educate friends in the cultures of the past and reduce the stress of everyday life.

In The Beginning...

2009-06-04T21:58:00.000-07:00

Daniel created a blog...

So yeah, I'm graduating from High School this week. This blog is for anyone who wants to read about (as well as look at pictures and other media) my journey through college and into life on my own.

I'll be posting a few things about how my high school career is coming to a close and then it's on to what's going on in my life as stuff comes up.