Self- Expression

I enjoy my hairstyle. I don’t care if anyone else does or not, however, this is a list of things that I do mind other people doing because of my hair:

1. Unashamedly starring
2. Quickly moving away from me
3. Assuming things about my emotional well-being, such as anger problems or depression
4. Grabbing/shaking my cranium
5. Using an excessive amount of euphemisms regarding my hair
6. Denying my help

Having little to no hair only means that I have little to no hair. I am still a kind person who enjoys playing with children and petting puppies. If my fellow Christians have problems interacting with me because of my untraditional appearance, I have but one thing to say to them: good luck demonstrating Christ’s love to the rest of the world.

Absolutely Brilliant

Europe is once again proving its intellectual superiority. Beyond the dykes of the northern nation, the Dutch have come up with a way to improve road safety and driver attention. They have not accomplished this by adding regulations for drivers to abide by, but rather by the stripping away of traffic laws.

This new system of directing motor vehicles known as “shared space” has two rules: drive on the right side of the road, and those approaching from the right have the right of way. This lawless way of traffic is in affect in just two cities currently, but the results are promising. There have been no serious accidents in either city.

The shared space approach to diving not only effects drivers but city planners as well. In these cities, there are no curbs and no separate spaces for walkers or cyclists. Intersections have been replaced with shared space circles, which are devoid of traffic lights.

The idea behind this innovation is to give each diver as much individual responsibility as possible. This encourages civic mindedness both on and off of the road. Of course, they are not so silly as to trust the raw judgment of each person. Children are taught proper road behavior on bicycles and are required to pass driving tests the same way.

Could this work in America? Possibly. If it were slowly and ever so carefully and discreetly phased in. However, the American government has more important things to do right now than to spent time, money, and energy improving our road systems. That was not sarcasm. I truly believe that the number one item on the American agenda should be attempting to keep Iraq out of civil war, and then maybe we could try to do something about the genocide in Africa.

Confession

Every time I watch a teen movie, I have the strongest desire to beat the crap out of someone. Last weekend when I was at Char and Jesse’s and “Mean Girls” came on, it was all I could do to keep from asking Mandy to fight with me. And then, yesterday, I saw Chars brave confession on her blog and clicked on the link to the Living Waters web site. When I saw that they have a program for high schoolers, my first impulse was to sign up and then smear the first little spoiled yuppie-to-be who complains about their suburban upper-middle class lives in small group against the wall.

All I really have to say about all of that is: who wants to slap fight?

Regarding a Certain Letter…

As some of you know, a while back I had written a letter to the president of Kansas City Art Institute regarding a two day lecture series that I found to be entirely inadequate. Up until now, I thought that the letter had gone largely ignored, except for the childish response of the director of the Foundations department, who was in charge of putting together the lectures. The fact that the letter, which was accompanied by a petition signed by many of my fellow students, had not made much of an impact did make me feel a bit like a failed Che, but I had gone as far as I was willing to go with it.

Today, I found out that I was mistaken in this impression. As it would turn out, shortly after my letter was sent, a meeting involving several members of the Foundations department and the dean of students was convened. At this gathering, they debated what the actual purpose of the "Career Days" lectures was and what it should be. Nothing has been decided yet, however, the idea was proposed to take the responsibility of planning these talks away from Mr. Ferguson (head of Foundations) and giving it to the Academic Resource Center.

While I am slightly saddened by the fact that I can now never be apart of my sister and brother in laws animated series, "Lazy Ches," (which airs on UPN next fall), I am more troubled by the fact that my new nick-name associates me with a Marxist. To avoid any confusion, let the record show that as far as this earth goes, I think Capitalism works because people are basically evil, and this form of government allows them to indulge their selfish hearts in a manner that has the potential to benefit others. As for the next Kingdom, I think that Communism headed by Christ will work out pretty well.

Joy May Kill

I came across this poem today and thought that it was amazing.

Joy May Kill

by: Michelangelo Buonarroti

Too much good luck no less than misery
May kill a man condemned to mortal pain,
If, lost to hope and chilled in every vein,
A sudden pardon comes to set him free.
Thus thy unwonted kindness shown to me
Amid the gloom where only sad thoughts reign,
With too much rapture bringing light again,
Threatens my life more than that agony.
Good news and bad may bear the self-same knife;
And death may follow both upon their flight;
For hearts that shrink or swell, alike will break.
Let then thy beauty, to preserve my life,
Temper the source of this supreme delight,
Lest joy so poignant slay a soul so weak.

I bet that it's even prettier in the original Italian.

It reminded me of the last One Thing conference that I attend, when Shawn Bolz said that he wished Christians were allowed to commit suicide so he could be nearer to God.

Pride and Prejudice

I'm not a person who typically enjoys movies that fit into the genre of "chick flick." Nicolas Sparks makes me want to choke on my own vomit, and half an hour into "Titanic" I thought, "I hope this boat sinks quickly." However, there is one movie that has my heart: "Pride and Prejudice." Of course, as any true fan would now interject, the book is always better. I love how Jane Austin takes the reader through all of the waxing and waning of circumstances to deposit him or her into the arms of the conjugal felicity of Miss Bennit and Mr. Darcy.

I am so much in love with the marriage of the surreal humanity in the fantastic situations partnered with the mortal reactions of the characters, that I have even dreamt of wedding Mr. Darcy. Yet, as I tried to put myself in Elizabeth's shoes, I realize that they are a few sizes too large for me. When I place the portrait of my charactor next to hers, they are decidedly different. Having such terrible luck here, being unsuitable for the prince of Plummbery, I searched around the Bennit family to find my place in it.

The next hope was obviously Jane, but anyone who has met me and knows Jane would have told me not to waste my time trying to make the comparison. Quickly scanning the rest of the family, I find myself to be a hodgepodge of the less desirable characters unattractive traits. More dominantly, I find that I have been endowed with Mary's antisocial contemplative nature, and to temper that, I have Mr. Bennit's shrewd tongue. I also contain Mrs. Bennit's dramatic theatrics, along with Lydia's blind optimism, and because of all of this, I have Kitty's tallent of being left out.

Glancing at myself this way, I can find no better home than that of Mr. Whickham, but I do credit myself with better sense than that of Lydia. Things being as they are, even with as little some of you know me to think of certain specimens of the opposite sex, I don't think that any of them would be stupid enought to marry me. Oh, please, don't think of that statment as terrible depressing, because it just makes my life easier. This way, If one ever does ask me, it must be God's will.

On a completely unrelated note, regarding certain plans involving a classmate of mine, let's just call him Jake, it is all systems go. If you don't understand, you have nothing to worry about.

Crisis Averted

I got my project done. I haven't really slept for three days, but my project is done, so you can all come to my show now. Thanks for the prayers. I don't think it would have gotten done without my beautiful God.

Happiness and love to everyone.

Finals Week: Art School Style

There are certain perks to being in art school. One of them happens to be that finals week, although stressful, is a lot more fun than at a regular four-year school. You see, our semesters end with a grand show which spans the entire campus. Everyone is required to be exhibited, because for most departments, it is a part of the student's final grade. The show opens on Friday and runs all weekend long.

Even though I am terribly excited for my first art show (for those of you who know about the one I participated in durring high school, that one doesn't count), the road to this event is decidedly up-hill. First off, making good art is costly. The supplies for my project ran me around seventy dollars, and I know plenty of my fellow classmen have spent upwards of one hundred dollars. Second, the path to the finnished project is riddled with unforeseeable obsticals. Often, these things come at the most inconvenient times, such as today.

In art, it often happens that one minute, the piece that you are working on seems to be coming along swimmingly, but the next, one of these glitches comes up, and you realize that you are in the bottom of a well. On Sunday, I was swimming along. I had the pieces of my project made and all I had left was to assemble them. Now, on Monday, I am in the bottom of a well. The pieces that I built did not fit together as they ought to, and because of that, I have to make new pieces that will hopefully allow the old ones to adapt to one another.

The other great strugle for the artist, is that art takes time. So, when it happens that a whole new set of problems arise in the face of a deadline just two days away, coupled with the demands of a writing class just one day away, the artist cannot help feeling insecure or maybe even a pang of terror. It is at these times that an artist would appreciate the prayers of others more than anything.

As for now, with God's help, I can pull it off. I'm still greatly anticipating the show this weekend, and would love to see many of my friends attend it. Until then, I am a slave to my studio.

I Had Better Explain...

To expand on my last entry, which was vague, but still useful as it was merely meant as a disclaimer, here is a little blip about the current state of my life. I am a freshman at the Kansas City Art Institute. This school is profoundly liberal, racy, and surprisingly ignorant. All of these elements culminate to create a perfect place in which to test an individuals morality and belief system, and so it is with me.

It is also a location which fosters unruly situations that nearly anywhere else would be declared simply immoral, or to use the legal term, harassment. Yes, there is a story behind that last statement. Several, in fact, but I will tell of the most recent one.

On Wednesday, my studio class and I were cleaning the room in preparation for the end of semester show on December eighth. The room was largely open, and we took this opportunity to mop the floor. Arriving back to the classroom early from lunch, I found myself in the company of three boys. I had come back in order to measure out my corner of the room to better plan the dimensions of my next project. I found this difficult to achieve, as one of the boys grabbed a mop and drew a giant penis on the floor with it. One may guess where the offensive organ ended.

When I protested this action on the grounds that I did not want it in my space, I was told that it would be removed if I licked it. To punctuate this sentence, he added details to the entrails on the pavement.

Seeing that my words were lost on this male, I turned to one of the others and asked him if I might borrow his mop to erase the other boys drawing. Instead of simply saying, "no," he walked over to my space and drew a vagina.

"There, now it's equal."

After this, I would have simply gone back to my measurements, but that was simply too anticlimactic for this situation. The best way to end an encounter such as this one, I have found, is with a lively discussion about homosexuality. This conversation was simply full of slanted questions that I was not allowed to answer due to frequent interruptions. Somehow, this person was able to draw the conclusion from all of this that Jesus has nothing to do with the Torah, even though I don't think that he has read either the Jewish law books or the Gospels of Christ. Don't ask me how we got to this point, because I'm confused about that too.

Just as my encounter with these persons had no resolve, so I shall leave you with none. Adu, my fair audience. I take my bows so that I may join my other students in the cafeteria for the evening slopping.

My New Blog

I'm sorry. There will be many things posted on this blog that no one should ever hear about. I just ask that you do not hold them against me, as Jesus will judge me for them one day.