Rachel's Quilt

Last Christmas, my cousin Rachel gave me a Christmas tree skirt that she made as a present. She is twelve years younger than me, and we've been exchanging gifts or notes since she was very little. Usually it was something small but meaningful--I once gave her a journal for the plays that we always wrote together and she gave me something of equal significance. Lately, however, we've been exchanging less personal gifts, and last year, I got her a couple of shirts from American Eagle. Needless to say, I felt quite guilty when I opened the gift that she had worked so hard on for me. This year, I refuse to be ashamed by a lame gift! And so I've been working on a quilt for her. Actually, I started this quilt for her (a triple? quadruple? Irish chain... not sure which) last winter.

Unfortunately, I've been less than pleased with it, and last weekend started a new one. Another Irish chain (though only a single), and I've been much happier with the results. Until I cut the squares the wrong size... but no matter. I have plenty of material to try again. I will upload the pictures later, because apparently I don't have them on my laptop yet. Oops...

John Dau

Last night I attended a talk at Augsburg College by John Dau, one of the "lost boys" from the Sudan. For the most part it was a hurried (he arrived 1/2 hr late because of a delayed flight), inspirational speech, focusing on perseverance and glossing over the gory and undeniably painful details of his flight from his home village to an Ethiopian refugee camp and later, Kenya. His talk had a lot of intriguing and heart-breaking points, but one thing he said really stuck with me because of its application to all people and circumstances. He said,

"today may not be okay, but tomorrow will be better."

This was something he used to tell the younger "lost boys" whom he was in charge of in the Ethiopian refugee camp when they didn't have food or milk, and he believes it sustained many of them through the hard times... He didn't really know that things would get better, but by encouraging these boys to hope, he believes he helped them hold on for another day. Can words really have such a powerful influence on a person's life? If you go through life truly believing that the day after today will be better, how could you possibly give up?

Sometimes I forget that the premise of hope rests upon this belief: that the future will be better than the present. Barack Obama offers hope that our country can turn itself around. I work on immigration issues because I hope that future generations of immigrants will stand a better chance than yesterday and today's immigrants. Common Hope offers hope to individuals and families with education, health care and housing... but we also have hope that these individuals will make tomorrow better than today.

Robert Frost and summers past...

"Nothing Gold Can Stay" by Robert Frost

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day,
Nothing gold can stay.

Last Friday I drove up to Saint John's Univ. to pick up a few things from a CH supporter. Whilst there, I had the opportunity to reconnect with a dear friend from college, whom I hadn't seen in three years. He currently lives in South Korea and was home for two short weeks. My last parting with this friend wasn't particularly pleasant, but we've kept in touch by email and the occasional telephone call. In truth, this is my fault. I messed up three years ago... and I haven't yet had the courage to try to make things right...

While my friend and I were reminiscing about the "good old times" (a mere four years ago), we lingered on a lovely, magical summer we spent living at Saint John's. The activities that entertained us each evening... riding our bicycles to Avon or Saint Joseph, playing "Mafia," tossing a frisbee around outside his dorm and having deep discussions about Harry Potter... are legendary. The simplicity of our lives and our relationship was refreshing and beautiful. My friend told me that when he reflects on those months, the images that are conjured up in his minds eye hold a golden tint. To him, that was our "golden summer." His description of those wonderful, warm evenings is perfect. Our golden summer was everything a summer should be--lazy, comfortable, simple, refreshing... and much of our time together was spent in the weaning hours of sunlight... with the world reflected in a brilliant, golden glow. But like Mr. Frost poetically quipped, "Nothing gold can stay," and our summer of simplicity, warmth and love soon faded to Fall... and the chaos of school, the stress of graduation and the fear that inevitably accompanies new love soon followed.

The Immigration Battle and Health Care

The debate continues...

A Defining Moment

After 11 Sept 01, many people referred to that day as the "defining moment" of my generation. My time and place in history is supposed to be forever linked to the tragic, national events of one day...?

Practically speaking, whether I want to or not, I will remember always where I was that morning when I heard about the airplanes and buildings (theology class), and the events that unfolded in the days (fear), weeks (hate) and years (war) following it. However, I would not say that particular event can define my generation. I was barely 18 years old, I had not been old enough to vote in the previous year's elections and had played no part in politics or world events up to that point. Any suggestion that that day and those events could describe who I was, am and will become exhibits a shallow understanding of all the factors that play into a generation's "definition."

But today... today I witnessed a defining moment, perhaps the defining moment of my generation. Today was the day that we stood up and swore to challenge the complacency that has drowned our nation for the past 7.5 years. We - along with our inter-generational friends - rejected this culture of fear and hatred that was bred from the events that were said to define us and our place and time in history. In drafting Barack Obama, and throwing off the constrictive hold of the past, we have redefined our generation, and our hopes for our country.

My whole body is filled with joy in our victory, love for those who are persistent in their peacemongering, enthusiasm for our cause ... and hope for what will come next.

"A house divided against itself cannot stand" says Abe

My Dad doesn't know this but he created a bit of a monster a couple of weeks ago when he offered to lend me a down payment for a house. My very first thought was, "No way! I can't handle a whole house!" After two minutes of thinking like that, I fell in love with the idea. My very own spot in the world that could belong all to me! I could unpack all of the boxes that I have been lugging around my whole life, hang pictures and maybe even paint the walls colors that I chose! I could stay there forever!

Having moved a few times in my life I'm ready to have a place where I can live in stationary peace with my things and my dog.

With no cardboard boxes in sight.

I've pondered this constantly since, and I've come to wonder whether my true reason for wanting to buy a house has less to do with finally grasping the stability that I have always craved and more to do with forcing that life upon myself. My conservative gypsy life-style has bred in me a desire to be constantly moving, breathing in new experiences and people, and simply existing in places outside of my previous comfort zones. Can a person long for stability and instability at the same time? I think my fear of my desire to pick up and leave is what is driving my competing desire to buy a house, and root myself in Minnesota.

"Anyone whose goal is 'something higher' must expect someday to suffer vertigo. What is vertigo? Fear of falling? No, Vertigo is something other than fear of falling. It is the voice of the emptiness below us which tempts and lures us, it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified, we defend ourselves."
--Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

the call to be inconvenienced...

Last night my Mom and I went to hear a doctor from the University speak on the subject of torture. He was originally set to speak at my church last Sunday, but sadly he was banned by the archdiocese from doing so because of his activism related to a different (but also important) issue. The reasoning was that his views on the sanctity of life are fundamentally at odds with those of the Church. And so he was not allowed to speak on torture, and the US' role in promoting torture around the world. Talk about the sanctity of life and human dignity!

The speaker also --albeit briefly-- touched on what he called "the courage to be inconvenienced." I'm not sure if he was alluding to the fear people have to stand up to their government, or if the issue is really about laziness. For me, that is certainly the case. I don't need courage to be inconvenienced to act out against this horrendous activity, I need energy... and a constant reminder of the awful things that are being done to people in the name of "freedom."

...more on this later...

South Africa

I've been thinking about my sister, Sho'Mac, a lot lately.

She's in South Africa for a semester, studying abroad. This picture of a giraffe was taken almost two years ago when she and I took a trip with our friend, Tara, to the same place at which she is now studying. My Dad left on Saturday for SA for work, but he is also going to hop down to PE to visit the Short One. They are going to visit Scotia park (the home of the aforementioned and pictured giraffes), and actually stay overnight. I am quite jealous of them, but excited that Kate will get to share her experiences with my Dad, who usually only sees the inside of conference rooms and airports...

Woo! It seems as though I have a font choice! I thought Lucida was the cursive-like font... but this doesn't look like cursive to me... ? Moving on...

I am slightly disappointed in my technology skills... My "homework" for the IAT Communications sub-committee was to make a blog and a myspace page, and to try to find the other team members. I managed to make a blog... and I managed to make a myspace page, and I was even able to find one of my other team members on myspace but I can't figure out how to make her my friend. I'm supposed to be of the myspace/facebook generation, but I can't figure it out! A bit sad, really.

In other news (and since I've decided to kinda-sorta make this a quilting blog), I have almost finished the nine-patch quilt blocks for my current quilting project!

Last Fall, a few of my co-workers and I sort of stumbled into quilting. I had been half-heartedly working on one for quite a while at that point, but I didn't like the way it was turning out. My co-worker, Kate, started making baby blankets for a couple of her friends and really re-ignited my interest in sewing. We drew in the interest of another co-worker and trekked up to a really cute quilt shop in White Bear Lake. My co-worker, Kristin, had decided to replicate a quilt made by her great-great-grandmother in the 1920s or 1930s. She keeps this quilt in her cube at work, and it is practically in shreds from all the washing and use and love it has endured. Because of its current state of disrepair, we were able to pull back the top a little bit to see that the quilt was hand-sewn, and Kristin decided that she wanted to hand-sew her quilt as well (the decision was furthered by the fact that she has no sewing machine). At the fabric store, Kristin picked out a wonderful mix of 1930s reproduction fabrics designed by Darlene Zimmerman(Robert Kaufman) and Moda (I can't remember the line). And... at that point, I could hardly resist the urge to attempt one myself! Now, several months later, I have 58 nine-patch blocks together, and am eagerly awaiting the completion of the final five. (As a slightly embarrassing aside, Kristin has now completely pieced her quilt, which contains 40 blocks - 5x8, each measuring 7.5 inches, with 2.5 inch sashing between each block - and is in the process of tying and binding the quilt. I have yet to sew any of the blocks together (I want to be able to set them out first to play around with different layouts), nor do I have any of the sashing cut. But I am so excited that it doesn't even matter that I'm months away from finishing!

My First Post!

Hello! Welcome to my first post! I haven't yet decided on a direction for my blog, and so this first post is really a formatting test.