Life point

I love Texas, but I would like to move somewhere cold. I try not to make a habit of complaining about the weather, but I honestly enjoy the cold so much more than the heat. The only problem is that cold places are hundreds and hundreds of miles away from family...and I really like being close to family. We're at a point in our lives where we don't have that many connections, so could easily pick up and move across the country provided the jobs were good. But where? And for how long? And would we be more successful making friends there than we have here? I just don't know.

A Smattering of Thoughts

When the office cat is the only thing keeping me sane, there’s kind of a problem. I want to face each day with anticipation and creative solutions and hope. I know I can’t drop everything and wait for a dream job to appear, but I don’t want a job that I hate. I think I hate hating my job more than I hate the job itself. 


On another note...
A thunderstorm blew in rather violently one recent evening. The wind whipped across the road and a glance in my rearview mirror revealed a dense wall of dust rising behind me. It took a second to realize it was kicked up from all the dirt driveways on either side of the highway. Initial thoughts included “Dust storm! Close the shutters! Cover the food! Will the cows be OK?” ala Little House on the Prairie. But that’s just silly. I don’t own any cows. 


And one last random tidbit...
I had a dream last night where evil people had surrounded our home, and the only thing comforting to me was a marmoset I cradled in my arms. When I woke up I couldn’t remember exactly what a marmoset is - a quick internet search gave me the disappointing answer of “a small species of monkey.” I am not a fan of monkeys, so wasting a name as beautiful as “marmoset” on it seems a shame.

"Frankenstein"

Last night my sister and I went to a National Theater Live event at a nearby movie theater. In 2011 Danny Boyle directed an incredible new stage production of “Frankenstein” starring Benedict Cumberbatch and Jonny Lee Miller. Every night the actors would switch roles: one night Miller was the monster and Cumberbatch was the scientist, then the next night they switched, creator playing created. The play was filmed and shown on movie screens across the globe, and last night was one of two encore performances.

I was surprised at how crowded the theater was. Mostly teenagers or 20-somethings, whispering to each other over popcorn as the show began. The screen showed a stage, blank except for an upright “womb” of canvas eerily lit from behind. As the audience on screen still chatted and settled into seats, a figure inside the fabric began to move. A hand stretched out and probed the fabric, searching for a seam. The crowd quieted as the figure’s movements became more intense. Simulated lightning rent the air as the figure tore forth and fell, helpless, to the floor.

What followed was at least 10 full minutes of excruciatingly slow progress as the creature violently flopped and gargled, trying to stand and breathe and understand his surroundings. When he was finally upright it was a victory, even though the audience chuckled at the sight of a grown, nearly-naked man wobbling around stage like a toddler. As the play progressed we watched him learn to eat and dress and talk, his limbs and tongue never quite sure of their true purpose. He learned poetry and prose; he learned jealousy and pain and the importance of memories. He learned that he was different and that mankind shuns the unfamiliar. He learned to give and then to take. He learned desire. He learned revenge.

The technical details of this show were incredible. Sets were minimal and uncrowded yet intricate in design. A thin stretch of grass became a field glowing in the sunrise. The middle of the stage turned, rose, and fell, causing a storm-battered cottage to appear from one half while a pristine white room sank out of sight behind it. Over 3,000 assorted light bulbs stretched across the ceiling, providing blinding lightning and shimmering stars.

A steampunk locomotive charged on stage in one hectic scene, the hoots, screeches and howls of its passengers mimicking a mechanical cacophony.

While there were visuals that were gory and unsettling, Danny Boyle wasn’t going for bloody shock. The theater gave it an “R” rating (dark content and partial nudity) and the website advised that this show was only appropriate for ages 15+. The bleak setting of each scene tells the story much more effectively than outright gore; it disturbs to see the shadows of an action almost more than the action itself. And the dialogue is heartbreaking, eloquent and chilling.

I’ve seen adaptations of this story with over-the-top effects and crashing soundtracks, but here there was no need. Boyle didn’t need to create towering icebergs on stage to bring the audience deep into a frozen wasteland. Two weary figures and a swirl of fog told us enough. The focus was on the two men, creator and created, different and yet similar.

A previous engagement prevents us from going back to see the roles reversed tonight, so I sincerely hope they show it again. If there was ever a version of this gothic tale to see, it’s this one.

For a video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zuYDiaT-mtg&noredirect=1

For more details on the incredible stage lighting (pictured above): http://www.whitelight.ltd.uk/news/?n=1276

Song Stories

This is the first in a new series of posts. Song lyrics tell stories, both directly and indirectly. Some are very easy to understand: “Oh yeah, his girlfriend died and he took her ashes to the beach and watched the sunrise while playing her favorite song,” while some are more open to interpretation.

There are several songs where I imagine elaborately detailed “music videos” every time I hear them. I know that most of the time what I imagine is not what the artist (or other listeners) had in mind, but I thought I’d share a few and see what happens.


So without further ado, Song Story #1: “We are Young” by fun.


“We are Young” by fun. has been topping the charts all spring. The official music video is a set of slow motion explosions set in a dimly lit bar, a hectic mismash of band shots and stylized chaos. While I don’t know exactly what inspired the story behind the words, this is the story I would tell if I had the chance to direct a new video for this song. (song lyrics in italics) 

A young man sits by himself in a corner of the bar, slowly turning a glass that’s still mostly full. He’s talking to the bartender, who’s only half listening. 


Give me a second I,
I need to get my story straight
My friends are in the bathroom getting
Higher than the Empire State
My lover, she is waiting for me
just across the bar
My seat’s been taken by some sunglasses
asking 'bout a scar, and...


The bartender turns to fill an order and the young man watches a stranger in expensive sunglasses flirt with his lover on the other side of the room. His hands clench around his glass as the man traces the pale pink line beneath her right eye. She turns from his touch and meets his eyes. She quickly looks down and excuses herself from the stranger. The scene shifts...


I know I gave it to you months ago
I know you’re trying to forget
But between the drinks and subtle things
The holes in my apologies, you know
I’m trying hard to take it back...


...to show the couple arguing in a living room. The young man turns from the girl and slams the bedroom door. He pounds the wall and kicks the bed and picks up a vase, spinning manically to throw it towards the door. Just as it leaves his fingers the door opens...she cries out, hands rising to her bloodied face...she backs out, shutting the door, and he stares, falters, crumples to the floor in shock. 

Back in the bar, he watches her return to her seat. The stranger has moved on. They lock eyes and he sings to her, oblivious of anyone else.

So if by the time the bar closes
And you feel like falling down
I’ll carry you home...
Tonight
We are young
So let’s set the world on fire
We can burn brighter than the sun


The scene changes back to the house. They sit at the dining room table. He sings to her, but she is looking past him to the photos of her family on the wall.  


Now I know that I’m not
All that you got
I guess that I, I just thought
Maybe we could find new ways to fall apart...

 He’s brought back to reality by his friends’ rowdy return. He and she are pushed together by the crowd.


But our friends are back
So let’s raise a toast
‘Cause I found someone to carry me home

(Refrain)


His friends take up the song of life, love, and youth. He loses sight of her in the crowd, but she appears behind him and takes his hand in hers. She sings to him,


Carry me home tonight
Just carry me home tonight
Carry me home tonight
Just carry me home tonight


During the next verse we see them fighting at home again, and to blow off his anger he takes off running down the street. He sees her face on everyone he passes; he slows, calming down, and returns home.  


The world is on my side
I have no reason to run
So will someone come and carry me home tonight
The angels never arrived
But I can hear the choir
So will someone come and carry me home

(Refrain)

Outside the bar, he whispers the last verses to her as their friends drive off in a taxi. She wraps his arms around his neck and he picks her up, carrying her away down the deserted streets. 

 
So if by the time the bar closes
And you feel like falling down
I’ll carry you home
Tonight. 

Back to their empty dining room, sunlight streaming in through the window, slowly moving up to reveal their wedding photo on the wall. 

Rain

Days like today are why I want to move to Seattle. I’d love for the patter of rain to be a normal, everyday sound, and for sunny days to be the special occasions. Rain has been so rare for the past year that I’m not sure I’ll ever tire of hearing it, watching it, feeling it. Yes, the healing power of rain is also matched by its destructive power, but there is a beauty in that power. 

Given the circumstances...

A resume is a strange thing. My resume is 3 pages* long, but what does that really mean? Does it mean I am well-experienced, well-rounded, or does it mean I move around a lot? Most are part-time or seasonal jobs held around and during school, then a full-time job following graduation, and finally the newest data I added today, against my will. I don’t want to be updating my resume. I don’t want to think of entering that uncertain field again. But despite all that…

“Given the circumstances, we will probably need to lay off about 30% of our full-time employees...” Those words were received by my fellow staff members and I last Thursday. The Wednesday before we had been told it would be 25%. Common sense tells me it will get worse before it gets better, and those in leadership above us have prompted us to be prepared: update resumes. Prepare cover letters. Start looking.

Start looking? Terror strikes my heart at that very idea. I spent 4 months looking...looking…looking. This job has been our saving grace, our answer to prayer, our chance to start again. And now, not even 18 months in, it could all be over?

It is further complicated by the fact that where I work is also where I worship. Do I look for another church job? That means leaving the groups we've come to know, the ministries we've invested in...it would mean so much more than just a new job.

There is no doubt that I am struggling with this. I am resisting reality, telling myself it won’t happen, pretending nothing has changed. But that is foolishness, and I know it. I know God has a plan, but my human heart hates not knowing where that plan will take us.


*(Those 3 include a page for “References” and “Honors and Activities,” which can be removed depending on the employer’s guidelines. Which brings up another odd thought: what other part of my life experience is expendable? To edit the “story of my life” with crossed out sections and notes of “remove,” “unnecessary,” and “nobody actually cares about this, do they?” But I digress.)

Weekend

I struggled with severe jealousy and self-pity this past week. I watched a joyful event play out from a distance, an event I hadn’t been asked to join. It wasn’t that far and I would have gone in a heartbeat, but the lack of invitation brought me up short and I didn’t want to poke and prod with questions of “why not me?” So all week I wallowed. I snapped at Matt and got frustrated at work until finally giving in to tears late Wednesday night. I sobbed my selfish troubles to a husband who was glad to finally find out what the heck was going on.

As the weekend drew closer I tried to distance myself from the updates of social media. Little things came up to help point out that my life doesn’t really suck as much as I felt it did: Friday afternoon at the park, Saturday playing with a new “techie” purchase, Sunday night enjoying the Oscars with my family.

It’s amazing how much energy can be channeled into bad feelings. I spent days feeling like every little thing was the world’s vendetta against me, which is really incredibly laughable. I’m not saying that it’s wrong to get upset about the little things in life, but it is wrong to let those things consume me.

When my mind wanders off to the possibilities of “why/WHY ME?/when/how/HOW SOON?” I can almost feel God gently tapping me on the shoulder and replying, “Why are you looking ahead? And dissatisfied? When will you be satisfied with the here and the now? How are you accomplishing what I’ve given you right now?”

And I sigh, because He’s right (obviously). So I suppose my goal is to work toward not letting negative emotions fester, because festering is gross. (Just say it slowly: Festering. Blech.) Just cry it out, brush it off, and move on. Focus on where I am, what I have and what I can do with it.


Easier said than done, but I’m gonna try.