Pursuit

"I love you from the bottom of...

2012-01-09T19:39:00.000-08:00

...my mind."

Granted, you won't hear a song like that warbling out of your radio anytime soon.

Love has forever been associated with that lubby-dubby organ behind your sternum, not so much with the flabby grey matter in your skull, which is understandable.

But, how radical it is that God commands us to love Him with all our heart, all our mind, and with all our strength!

God asked for our love; the deepest and dearest thing we could ever give! He did not ask for our blood, our infants, or our maidens, as the idols 'demanded'; no He wanted us, wholly, in delightful completeness, living, breathing, loving!

It's radical, I tell you!

Even more mind-blowing is the thought that He came to show us how He loves us.

Christ earnestly loved us with His mind, exhorting us with parables, Scripture, and revelations. He deeply loved us with his human heart; weeping for us, delighting in us.

And ultimately, He loved us beyond the limits of His human strength, bending , breaking, bleeding for us.

Who can stand unbending in the face of such limitless love? Does it not demand our complete and zealous reciprocation? For now when God says 'love me', and we ask 'how', He has only to reply, 'as Christ has loved you'. Irrevocably our minds, hearts and bodies belong to Him.

I am learning to love God with all my heart.

Further up and further into the joy of knowing God; it's a journey I'm on. He's channeling my zeal and feelings away from other things and towards Himself. He satisfies the longing of my heart.

I am learning to love God with all my mind.

I've been reading Heretics by G.K. Chesterton today, (MAN has it been a head-trip!)

He artfully shows again and again how a worldview founded in God makes SO much more sense than otherwise. God continually satisfies my mind, and keeps blowing it too. :D

I am learning to love God with my strength.

It sometimes takes massive will-power to bend my rebellious spirit to submit to others, but it is a strength that God is cultivating in me. I feel so much love for Him when I'm laboring for things that please Him! He satisfies my need for purpose and work.

Love is a way of life, it melds our intellect, our emotions, and our will in a synthesis of devotion.

Hey, so how can you love God today?

Whoa

2012-01-05T11:10:00.000-08:00

I found this old script I'd written last year:

Pharaoh just died. WOHAPOTEP and SHEPSTUT are on a rooftop watching the funeral procession.

WOHAPOTEP

How tragic.

SHEPSTUT

YES, Wohapotep! (sniffle)He will be missed. He wore his fake goatee so elegantly. The court often praised Pharaoh Yebu for it! May he live forever.

WOHAPOTEP

Oh, that too. I do feel badly for the fellow, kicking the bucket and all.

SHEPSTUT

Well, what else would be tragic at a funeral, the lack of hors d'oeuvres?

WOHAPOTEP

Hm, that too. But the tragic I was thinking of is all that gold doomed to eternal solitude in a stuffy pyramid.

sHEPSTUT

(rolling eyes) You and gold.

WOHAPOTEP

Shepstut, you wound me! My interest in precious metals is strictly altruistic! I have relentlessly studied the ebb and flow of the commodities market and currency exchange, just as the priests study the nile.

SHEPSTUT

May it flow forever.

wOHAPOTEP

Yes, yes, My point is that my meticulous calculations have brought me to the startling conclusion that each time a Pharaoh dies--

SHEPSTUT

May they live forever.

wOHAPOTEP

but they don't--that's the point. Pharaoh Yebu just died. Why else would all these people be watching a depressing parade on a hot day like this? And would you quit saying that.

Shepstut

Oh keep your wig on, it's just figure of speech. You were saying?

WoHAPOTEP

I was saying that every time a pharaoh moves on... to his happy... hoping ground, he takes all his gold with him, siphoning it off the market and sapping the economy!

ShePSTUT

So? What does that mean?

WOHAPOTEP

The value of gold skyrockets, deflating the currency supply and throwing prices in the ditch. I have a plan.

Shepstut

Oh dear.

WOHAPOTEP

I resent that. I'm going to loot his pyramid.

ShepSTUT

Oh yeah, and I'm going to be queen of england.

wOHAPOTEP

No really. Here's the plan.

Of fog, books, and Love... etc.

2011-12-26T22:07:00.000-08:00

Been readin' again folks.

You know what's coming.

Ilovereadingbooksit'slikeadisembodimentalhigherexperiencemymindislikewhoatheuniverseexpandswitheverybookIreadblah blah blah

Last evening, Mr. KindredSpirit (my big brother) and I walked off our Christmas calories through our gloriously foggy and quiet neighborhood. Often we'd stop and try to cram every square inch of our lungs with the sweetest air you ever tasted. Different places had different smells. One neighbor has this cedar that almost gives you a high, it's so spicy and fragrant. Another part of the walk nearly knocked us over with the richest saute smell this side of heaven. It grew so strong as we continued that we wondered what it could possibly smell likeinside the neighbor's house. If it was any stronger you'd basically have to chew it. That's probably what they were doing in there.

If you know me at all you'll know I can't experience something profound and then just move on. Aaron and Macy, our dog, would stop and patiently endure as I'd monologue about the picturesque nature of the fog, as it dramatically shrouded the trees and diffused the sun. Then Aaron and I got to talking. I was telling him about the two novels (Wuthering Heights, Christy) I'd gotten for Christmas and how they had impacted me.

Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte) is one of my favoritest books in the world, and Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte) had many similarities but it seemed to focus on all the pain, anger, and darkness of love rather than the joy, light and beauty of it. A familiar theme these sisters use is the concept of becoming of one soul and mind with your beloved, and that nothing can separate you. These books idealize passion, intensity and introspective depth; implying that marrying someone for reasons of wealth, beauty, or even good character are cheap and shallow reasons. These books have somewhat influenced me, and as I was chattering to Aaron about it, I heard myself basically say, "I'm SO going to hold out for someone who's soul is like deep water, someone who has passion, complexity, and even inconsistencies. Why settle for less?" I asked him if sometimes guys seeks conversation with a girl more for attention than information, and he agreed. He said poetically "Some guys may prefer looking into your eyes more than looking into your mind." We griped about it. :D

But something in me sensed flaws in the Bronte ideals that had captivated me. The men in those books were ruled by passion and feeling more than self-control and morality, making them glamorous, masculine and appealing, their edge of danger thrilling to the heroines. The Bronte sisters scorned the emptiness of physical attraction and youthful desire, and defined love as intimacy of mind and soul. Aaron and I agreed; it sounds amazing in novels, but does that kind of love last? Who says emotions are to be trusted any more than hormones?

Aaron pointed out that this mentality can give some the idea that they are destined for a certain someone, and even marrying the "wrong person" can't stop them from being with their "second self", their extended soul. Yup, that's pretty awful. It seems simple to me; whoever you're with is who you're meant to be with, so don't be with anyone who isn't worth being with for always! I know it's more complicated than that, but oh well.

So darkness fell as we arrived back at home, and I couldn't help but feel that I shall love my brother always, even if we someday cease to confide in one another. The best love is one that's constant, gentle, throbbing like a heartbeat; capable of racing for joy, and able to ache for sorrow, but always, always beating. Love is here and it's here to stay.

Okay, so it's sappy.

2011-11-13T23:26:00.000-08:00

Well, found this old writing project in my files from last year. Tell me what you think!

"How distant everything seemed! The pounding stagger, the ragged breath, the aching side; all so far from me. For there was no other way. Miles ran together; only the rhythm and fever of my heart sustained me.

Every part of me ached. My soul, my being! How many times had I seen his face, heard his voice only to find him a mirage of my own delirium?

And then. He was there.

All the world became peripheral, save for him. Sharp and clear, his distant image pierced my dim, blurred heart.

The body I’d yet ignored gave way under me. I did not care.

He was coming for me now. He’d flung down the plow reins and broke into a dead run.

I gasped with starving lungs, twisting my fingers into the grass that surrounded me, towered over me. I dreaded him, longed for him! The old caution and stifling reserve flooded me the moment he came. Why, oh why had I come? Does not his kindness kill me? I felt him pull me up, supporting me while he kneeled.

“Dear girl, what have you done? Are you mad? That’s nearly twelve miles journey! Did you run all the way?”

His questions weren’t really asking for answers, so I closed my eyes and swallowed thickly. Not that I would have spoken anyway.

Of course he’s shocked that you’re here. He sent you away, and you’ve come running back like a doting fool! How you must try him! The exasperation in his eyes cut me to pieces. I stared holes in the ground; shrinking from him.

“I—I’ll go back,” I murmured, “I’m---sorry that I came.”

“But why?” He lifted my chin and shook me, “Why did you come?” his voice dropped quiet and gentle. “You know full well why you couldn’t stay!”

I nodded pathetically. But despair spilled the words out of my mouth.

“Please—“ I clutched at his arm, “I beg of you. Do not send me back! I cannot bear that woman. She---she is not good to me.”

He must have glanced at the hand that gripped him, because his brow furrowed and he grabbed it in his two hands. I tried to wrench away but his hold was firm. His jaw clenched hard as he intently scanned my face. Sliding my sleeve up past my elbow, he exposed the numerous welts and bruises on my flesh.

“God—have mercy, what have I done!”

I had never seen him provoked before, but quiet fury came over him. He slowly stood up, raking his hands through his hair, pacing without aim or direction. He even picked up a good-sized stone and hurled it against a nearby tree.

I began to cry. A choking, spluttering cry that squeezes one’s throat like a vice.

The warmth of his arms surrounded me, rocking me gently.

Eventually, he scooped me off the ground and bore me down the slope.

The sun was setting to our backs, casting our shadows long before us. The evening air, heavy with the scent of hay and honeysuckle, whispered past, teasing my hair and cooling my damp forehead. Into my spent and broken heart trickled a new sensation I could hardly fathom.

Peace.

Maybe there was a God who loved me after all?"

Naturalism=Moral Suicide

2011-10-25T10:56:00.000-07:00

You are what you eat.

Think about it! For the first nine months of your existence you were entirely what your mother ate, and for a while after that too. But even though you've since been weaned, thank goodness, you're still only made of the substances you've repackaged into you!

Look down at your body.

Every square inch of you has existed since the beginning of time. You, or at least what you are made of, are as ancient as the cosmos itself!

I realized this when I was only a youngster and the implications sure weirded me out. I've often wondered if I've shared molecules with some ancient dead person. Everything around here gets reused anyway; I could have eaten some hamburger of a cow who ate the grass over a grave!

It's a circle of life kind of thing.

Right about now you're wondering if I've consumed something fermented, but hold your horses, I really have something worthwhile to ask of you.

Who are you?!?

Are you anything more than what you are made of? If you're like me, you feel profoundly distinct from the earth, sky and water around you. You feel incredibly You and nothing else. Why?

I must explain myself. I'm on this peculiar train of thought because I'm sitting here in a warm sunbeam, with all the vibrance and glory of autumn hollering at me through my window, and I've just read a chapter on Secular Humanism in my worldview class textbook. As I'm trying to immerse my mind in a world without God, I'm mulling through the basic tenets of naturalism. And the implications are unsettling.

If all I am is what I ate, if all I will ever become is the grave, then the entirety of my life is a whoop-de-doo! I'm as pointless and worthless as the ant I squished yesterday.

Forget ethics! Forget human dignity! Forget conventional courtesy! A world without God is absolutely and comprehensively meaningless! Why waste time whining about the economy, the government, the way things are "supposed to be", if there are no ought's and should's in life?! Do you get what I mean?

And as I look out my window, I wonder why I see meaning and beauty in the random chaos if I am supposedly just another part of it! Why, in all the universe, is there only one species that possesses acute consciousness and intelligence and why does he obsessively define "right" from "wrong" if he wasn't supposed to?

Why can't Mother Nature satisfy the mind she allegedly created?

What if a Mind created my mind?

I think I shall never be able live in a world without God. I have a mind that screams against mindlessness, a heart that cries against heartlessness, and a soul that dares defy mortality.

I think I'll go eat lunch.

Humble Pie...

2011-10-01T19:11:00.000-07:00

...actually tastes pretty good.

Have you ever peeled back a bandage and got that catch in your breath and that flip in your gut when you saw the nastiness that was hidden beneath? Well, today I got to see my pride like the festering, oozing wound it is.

Sometimes I feel my heart is a dark, narrow and scummy corridor, full of wicked little secrets and sinful infestations.

Okay, enough with the analogies. You get the idea.

Thank goodness for Jesus.

And the Bible.

And C.S. Lewis.

"Pride can often be used to beat down the simpler vices. Teachers, in fact, often appeal to a boy's Pride, or, as they call it, his self-respect, to make him behave decently: many a man has overcome cowardice, or lust, or ill-temper, by learning to think that they are beneath his dignity-that is, by Pride.

The devil laughs.

He is perfectly content to see you become chaste and brave and self-controlled provided, all the time, he is setting up in you the Dictatorship of Pride-just as he would be content to see you chilblains cured if he was allowed, in return, to give you cancer."

Buurrrn! "Rebellion is So beneath me." <-- How many times have I subconsciously thought that when trying to whip my sin nature into shape?!!

I've read "Mere Christianity" a few times already, I've got this stuff down (right?), so why is it every time I read it, it's like ripping open a wound I've cleverly disguised. It staggers me.

I am all about appearances, you see. How mortifying it would be to be thought of as Vain! So I tell the world I don't care what it thinks, that I'm above the opinions and appreciation of my fellows. Ugh!

Listen to Dude C.S.:

"Pleasure in being Praised is not Pride. The child who is patted on the back for doing a lesson well, the woman whose beauty is praised by her lover, the saved soul to whom Christ says 'Well done,' are pleased and ought to be. For here the pleasure lies not in what you are but in the fact that you have pleased someone you wanted (and rightly wanted) to please. The trouble begins when you pass from thinking, 'I have pleased him; all is well' to thinking, 'What a fine person I must be to have done it.'...The more you delight wholly in yourself and do not care about the praise at all, you have reached the bottom... In this way real thorough-going pride may act as a check on vanity; for as I said a moment ago, the devil loves curing a small fault by giving you a great one. We must try not to be vain, but we must never call in our Pride to cure our vanity. "

So again I throw myself on the mercies of God! How deeply have I wounded my Savior! Crushing my laziness, vanity, insecurity, and insubordination with the bitter weight of Pride?!! How it must mock the name of Jesus! What should I do?

Ah.

Yes.

Humility.

C.S. Lewis again:

" The point is, He wants you to know Him: wants to give you Himself. And He and you are two things of such a kind that if you really get into any kind of touch with Him you will, in fact, be humble-- delightfully humble, feeling the infinite relief of having for once got rid of all the silly nonsense about your own dignity which has made you a restless and unhappy all your life. He is trying to make you humble in order to make this moment possible: trying to take off a lot of silly, ugly, fancy-dress in which we have all got ourselves up and strutting about like the little idiots we are.

Do not imagine that if you meet a really humble man he will be what most people call 'humble' nowadays: he will not be a sort of greasy, smarmy person, who is always telling you that, of course, he is nobody. Probably all you will think of him is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you said to him."

*Sigh*

Humility sounds like bliss!

So. I'm really interested to hear what you think about all this! :D

The Truth About Being Alone

2011-09-13T11:46:00.000-07:00

We have our fancies.

Ah, to belong to someone!

To sit with them and sigh and have nothing particular to say but sweet endearing silence!

To be full 'til bursting with delight and joy each time they say our name.

Ah, to know and be known, to cherish and be cherished, to own and be owned.

To wonder how we ever once upon a time managed to be Alone.

But why, I ask, must we live for the somedays and not-yets, when love has come and is here for us in our solitude? True, the suspense is greater, and the senses the fainter; for our Lover is not to be seen. But the joy is deepest and endurance the longest to first know the love of our King!

And who knows if that day will come when flesh and blood will be ours to love, but the waiting is far from bitter, if indeed our heart has found its home.

Sweet Jesus, You confound us with Your Love! Oh love, how it refines and redeems! It throbs in our hearts, we cannot stay silent for JOY!

With You,

are

never

Alone

My Graduation Speech

2011-06-01T07:56:00.000-07:00

If I were to summarize for you my favorite thing about being homeschooled, I’d say it’s simply the freedom.

One day, when I was a wee six year old, and incarcerated in a public elementary school, a rumor was spreading through the second grade. This rumor eventually got to me over lunch in the cafeteria, and went something like this.

“Alexa, did you hear, we’re going to be in school for thirteen years. Thirteen”

A wave of panic and despair washed over me. Good grief, I had only been around on this blessed earth for six years, thirteen was twice over my lifetime! I lost interest my government-subsidized lunch.

Thankfully, after a few years, my parents declared an Emancipation Proclamation. I was going to be homeschooled.

Looking back, I can say that that was one of the best decisions my parents have ever made for me, and I hope to do the same for my own children.

At public school I was taught I originated from an ape, at home I was taught that I was made in the image of a loving, sovereign God. At school I learned from peers that my siblings were enemies, at home they became my strongest allies.

It was at home where I flourished in my newfound freedom, blazing through textbooks faster than you can say Robinson Curriculum, all done whilst wearing my pajamas. God has used my parents to instill in me a delight in learning, a hunger for meaningful conversation, an appreciation for history and the lessons it teaches, and a desire to live my life in accordance with God’s Word.

I have come to know God through this freedom. My study of physics, chemistry and calculus have revealed to me the mind-blowing intelligence, order and precision of the Creator if the Universe. I’ve seen His Beauty through studying biology, art, photography, music. I’ve seen the hand of Providence in history. I am so thankful for the freedom to explore further up and further in the wisdom and knowledge that God has founded the world upon.

I praise God for my parents, my siblings, my relatives, my friends and mentors who have contributed immensely to my academic journey. I am so excited to see what God wants to do with me next.

Back in second grade, when I first learned I was sentenced to thirteen years of schooling I had no concept of how freeing a lifetime of learning could be. Knowledge without God is bondage, yes, but knowledge of Him, why that’s the foundation of liberty and freedom.

Genie in the Lamp part 1

2011-04-04T10:44:00.000-07:00

What do you want more than anything in the world? If you found a magic lamp with a genie who promised you a wish, how would you react?

In this picture I believe I am slightly pleased with this proposition.

Here's what would go through my head.

Wowohwowohwowthisisverypossiblyabigdeal, I don't want to blow this on something really stupid.
Riches? The riches I've got don't make me happy, contentment makes me happy. If I got more riches and was content with that I'd be in the same boat. What a waste of a wish.
More nieces and nephews? Well, they're showing up pretty fast on their own.
Beauty? I'd be cursed with the stares of people and the pride it might bring. With beauty comes the fear of losing it. Besides, the world has plenty of beautiful women, what would they need me for?
Strength? Uhh. I'd feel awkward wearing too many muscles.
Long life? What if I could have invincibility 'til age 100? Well, what's the fun in getting as wrinkly as a raisin, watching all your best friends die and beat you to paradise? Forget it.
Wisdom? Hm. With wisdom I'd know God more. With wisdom, I'd avoid dangerous choices. With wisdom, I'd be like Solomon!

"At Gibeon the LORD appeared to Solomon in a dream by night, and God said, "Ask what I shall give you." And Solomon said, "... O LORD my God, you have made your servant king in place of David my father, although I am but a little child. I do not know how to go out or come in....Give your servant therefore an understanding mind to govern your people, that I may discern between good and evil, for who is able to govern this your great people?" It pleased the Lord that Solomon had asked this. And God said to him, "Because you have asked this, and have not asked for yourself long life or riches or the life of your enemies, but have asked for yourself understanding to discern what is right, behold, I now do according to your word. Behold, I give you a wise and discerning mind, so that none like you has been before you and none like you shall arise after you. I give you also what you have not asked, both riches and honor, so that no other king shall compare with you, all your days. And if you will walk in my ways, keeping my statutes and my commandments, as your father David walked, then I will lengthen your days."

Okay, sounds good to me. I'd pick Wisdom!!

--INSERT MAJOR PROBLEM---

I don't have a magic lamp.

Trust me, I checked.

I did rub the lamp on my nightstand beside me and all that happened was me feeling stupid. Not a magic moment.

Does this mean I can't have wisdom?

--INSERT MAJOR SOLUTION---

"Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path." -King David, Solomon's Dad.

Whoa. Magic Moment! This bible next to me is a lamp of wisdom?

Stay tuned for more ecstasy.

READ like it's going out of style

2011-04-01T10:07:00.000-07:00

...because it is.

Right now I'm reading Amusing Ourselves to Death and The Dumbest Generation. Wow, talk about eye-opening. My generation of teenagers is the stupidest bunch of no-comprende's since the dawn of western civilization!

Not to brag or anything, but I have some smart friends. Lots of kids don't, these days. Do you have any smart friends? Have you ever considered what makes them seem smart? They probably READ.

You can learn a lot about a person by simply asking them, "Do you like to read?" and "What do you read?". I won't bore you with data, (then again, you shouldn't get bored by data!) but studies show most kids don't read much outside of school assignments. That's PATHETIC! I would imagine these individuals must be bored stiff, but I suspect they fill their spare time with media and social networking so they "simply have no time to read."

Here are some random facts that every well-educated teenager would know:

1.What year was the Declaration of Independence signed by all those wig-wearing men?

2. What's another name for the War-between-the-States, and what were the two opposing forces therein?

3. What ancient mathematician/philosopher is attributed to the a squared + b squared=c squared theorem in dealing with triangles?

4. Name at least two presidents who have been assassinated.

5. What's the classifying difference between a fruit and a vegetable?

6. What do "paradigm", "benevolent", and "ostracize" mean?

7. What's so special about Neil Armstrong?

8. Why is there a leap year?

9. Can you name at least four South American Countries can you name?

10. When did the stock market crash, ushering in the Great Depression?

Okay, so I made them pretty easy, but if you could answer all of them from off the top of your head, it means you value and retain information, which are the two crucial criteria of a READER.

But let me be clear; someone who reads all the time doesn't necessarily make them what I call a bonafide READER. My little brother, who's fourteen, has read possibly triple the amount of books I have in my lifetime, and he tests higher in literature comprehension than I do, but he admits he reads for entertainment, not enrichment. He plows through stacks of shallow Louis L'Amour novels, paperback teeny-bopper novels, and large-print hardcover novels, retaining very little from them. Here's a non-unusual scenario:

Me: Yo Caleb, how'd you like that book I saw you reading yesterday?

He glances up from the different book he's almost finished with, and his eyes cloud whilst he searches his overworked memory.

Caleb: Uh, it was lame I guess.

Me: Well, what was it about?

Blank stare followed by guilty grin

Caleb: I don't remember, actually.

As he sinks his proverbial teeth back into his sugary, nutrition-less fiction, I chuckle to myself.

To his credit though, he's always begging me for suggestions, and has devoured practically every decent book that I've ever so much as mentioned I enjoyed.

My point is, reading just to read is not good for you. If a child is starving, you don't tell him to go suck on twinkies. Kids my age are, in a way, starving for good literature. And there's certainly not a famine, it's a loss of appetite. And as we all know, starvation actually reduces our capacity to digest. Likewise, many of us can't comprehend the books that were popular among common folk in the early eighteen hundreds.

For example, in the movie Amazing Grace, William Wilberforce writes a book that sells thousands of copies, and all the commoners are talking about it. After seeing the movie, getting all inspired and teary-eyed about the Abolition and everything, I pulled the said book off our shelf, cracked it open...and lasted a couple pages.

I was astonished, how could a book so nerdy and enigmatic as this inflame the hearts of a whole countryside? The answer? Simple; I'm a lot more stupid than they were. I need a colorful movie with handsome actors and fancy costumes, swelling music and cinematic story-telling to penetrate my thick ADHD skull to inspire me for a good cause. Those good people needed nothing more than a wordy book. I ate some humble-pie as I put that book back on the shelf.

A friend of mine, I think he's fifteen now, was reading War and Peace last year. All I can say is, no fair. I wish I had will-power like that.

Anyway, to wrap things up;

READ, because:

1. It demands that you think linearly. Kids who don't read (non-fiction) can't follow a logical flow of argument, or sequential train of thought. Reading sharpening this capacity.

2. It improves your vocabulary. Reading teaches vocab better than any teacher, because it's in the context of an actual verbal expression, rather than naked on a flashcard or pop quiz.

3. It connects you to minds and hearts of those who've walked the earth before you, some of them thousands of years ago, others just last century. It's the language of enlightened humanity, so for you to choose to miss out on that conversation is like living in your refrigerator; it's stupid.

4. It determines your skill as a writer. People who don't read write like neanderthals. If you can't write, you have no way to get what's inside of you outside of you, and that's not nice at all.

5. It's how God speaks to us! I saved the best reason for last. God doesn't use pillars-of-fire or stone tablets to reveal Himself to us anymore. He speaks through the written word, the most enduring mode of communication of all time. If little black squiggles on a white page can deliver to us saving knowledge of a Holy and Righteous Deity, there must be something to them. The following pic is probably Christianity's most embarrassing byproduct. An eternal, enduring text, the new testament, is reduced to a girly magazine. Specific to a generation that refuses to read. Good grief!

Well, there you have it. Go read something good. And tell me about it. I'm all ears. Leave a comment about your favorite or current book.

What a (Good) Guy Likes in a Girl (and vise versa)

2011-03-29T11:23:00.000-07:00

I love using provocative titles, like the above. I'm sure every girl perks up at such a phrase.

HOWEVER, I'm not into obsessing over what guys think for the sole purpose of attracting them. That is STUPID. My only intention in this post is to express some convicting truths I've been reading through that have impacted me, and I know if I titled it What God Likes in a Girl, it wouldn't be as intriguing! Besides, I think we girls all know what God likes in us, but we forget that IF His Spirit is working in a guy, that guy would like those same things in us! Duh with a capital D!

"Girls who do stupid things to get a guy, will get a stupid guy." -Dr. Dobson's Bringing up Girls (I highly recommend this book, by the way.)

The opposite would be true, wouldn't it? "Girls who do virtuous things attract virtuous guys."

"When I am counseling young men and they ask, "what is the most important thing we should look for in a prospective female?" My answer is simple and has been the same for many years. I tell the young men, if a young woman thinks she is a real catch, then know she is not...Keep searching until you find a girl with the most valuable of all character traits: a thankful heart. A thankful spirit is the opposite of a prideful spirit. A girl that laughs and enjoys life, bubbles with joy, and just seems satisfied with her life--that's what I looked for in my wife." -Michael Pearl, husband of Debi Pearl, author of Preparing to be a Help Meet.

Wow. There it is. Guys like thankfulness in a girl.

Somewhere in that book (Preparing to be a Help Meet) it said something like, "A beautiful attitude is more attractive in a girl than any amount of make-up."

And think about it, if you constantly complain about your life, wear heavy make-up, flirt and behave coquettishly, you're bound to attract some pretty awful young men.

The young men who are attracted to joy, humility, mirth, sincerity, and gratitude in a girl are the ones who are worth attracting!

GOOD Guys like GOOD Girls who:

1. Love the Lord

2. Honor their parents behind their parent's back :)

3. Serve like crazy

4. Have drive and purpose

5. Wear skirts to church :D

GOOD Guys DON'T like Girls who:

1. Love themselves (a guy can figure this out just by seeing all those puckered-lips profile pictures of you on facebook!)

2. Dis their parents openly or in their heart

3. Waste time like it's free

4. Sit around pouting for Prince Charming

5. Dress like Southern Californians

Okay, I've oversimplified it, but really, there is so much to be said on this subject that I'll just let the authors who've already published on it say it much better than I. Before You Meet Prince Charming, Joyfully at Home, Raising Maidens of Virtue, and Preparing to be a Help Meet, are all great resources for teenage girls to read.

On an ending note, in case the guys are interested, a (good) girl likes Guys who:

1. Love the Lord passionately

2. Honor and appreciate their mothers and sisters

3. Smile, laugh and accept those who aren't "cool"

4. Work like maniacs

5. don't dress like video-gamers. :D

Don't forget, our main reason in being good people is not please people, or even God. He couldn't possibly be more pleased with us than He already is, by the grace of Christ. We ought to be the kind of girls and guys that He wants us to be, because we love Him and know it is His will for us!

The Illusion of Control

2011-01-31T18:08:00.000-08:00

My brother and I get teased about how close Kung Fu Panda is to our hearts. So if you laugh about this, you're not the first. Go ahead. Laugh. I can take it.

There's a part were Master Shifu (an endangered lemur-ish thingy creature) is frantic over "destiny" taking place outside of his control and the ancient Master Oogway tells him he must calmly let go of his "illusion of control" and reminds him fate is not ours to design. As mystical and kung phooey as it sounds, I think I've been having this simple lesson shoved down my throat recently.

I am so very much not in control of anything.

This weekend I was ambitiously trying to film a video I'd written for us Speech Club Alumni, over the three day Clarion Speech and Debate Tournament. And it seemed like, as the deadline drew closer, things couldn't get any worse. My headaches made me irrational, my camera battery died, my back-up battery was conveniently shot too, my family members were all watching speech rounds so I couldn't call them to help out. No one else was making the hour-long trip to Medford until a lot later that day, so it was weird to suddenly realize that I was completely helpless.

Later, I realized my $300 orthodontic retainer was no longer in place where I carefully left it, among my family's belongings at the tournament. It's not something anyone would steal either. This already happened a little while ago, so looks like I get to learn the same expensive lesson: no matter how hard I try, I can always do something stupid in the course of 5 seconds and ruin everything.

This morning I practically passed out in the arms of a nurse who was drawing my blood for a test. I wasn't squeamish or anything, but my body just went into shock and failed without me having any say in the matter. Good grief. I've been feeling very strange for the past week or two, off and on and we're hoping the blood test may shed some light on what is wrong with me. I was trying so hard to be in control of my consciousness, trying not to tell the nurse, trying to grasp onto every shred of remaining reality around me, but I failed, guess.

Needless to say, it's all very humbling. I have this illusion of control over my circumstances. In possibly one of the most hectic weeks of my life, I get hit with these mysterious recurring headaches and fatigue. On top of all that is my forgetfulness, lack of foresight, and inability to be realistic with my obligations, saying yes to everything and somehow let people down on a lot of things in the end.

I guess I've relied on myself for so long that God is letting me know how helpless I am without Him.

This past month, three different acquaintances of mine passed away. I can't help but think there's a point to which we can choose, plan, fight for our lives, but beyond that, we are completely at the mercy of the One who is in Control. Whether I live to see tomorrow, or die in my bed, its not my place to choose

So each new day, I guess I'm learning to let go and remember my place in the grand scheme of things. Like Master Shifu, I'm letting go of my Illusion of Control.

Dream houses

2011-01-25T10:52:00.000-08:00

Oh, it's all so whimsical!

Made up or faked up?

2010-11-30T11:55:00.000-08:00

Now I don't think I have any male subscribers to this blog, but if I do, sorry if this post bores you fellas to death. But if you have any thoughts or input, it'd be nice to hear what you think.

I'm posting about make-up. *insert sheepish expression here*

I didn't even realize until lately how many girls and women wear makeup. I didn't even touch the stuff until I was nearly fifteen, and if it weren't for my older sister who suggested it, I th

ink I'd probably still not wear it. Women have been using it for thousand of years, so it's kind of expected of us, I guess.

So I've gotten into the routine of just wearing a little mascara, and I decided to do an experiment. Could I break the habit? I decided to skip the mascara for most of November. The guys do "no-shave November" so this was my little dare.

And...it was actually harder than I thought. I started out really excited, and told some of my friends. But I started feeling really...uh...ugly without it, and was wondering why everyone else looked so nice all the time, until I noticed "HEY they use make-up too!"

So, all you girls, I think a nice thing to ask yourself would be (if you wear a little mascara as a habit) "do I feel embarrassed without it? If someone saw me without it, would I be able to look them in the eye and not care?" Cause I asked myself that and realized I was a little insecure. So "no-lash November" has been good for me, my friends haven't abandoned me, so it looks like I survived. :D

I don't know if a male could ever truly understand the pressure that girls in this culture feel to be "celebrity" beautiful. We're told if we were lucky enough to inherit good looks we ought to make sure everybody notices, and if we aren't satisfied with our traits that we should

do whatever we can and spend whatever it takes to be gorgeous. Aarg.

I'm still slogging through that awkward teenager stage of self-consciousness, and I'm very much looking forward to growing out of it, but this culture isn't helping at all! So many of our celebrities have quietly gotten nose-jobs, cosmetic surgery, enhancements, etc... just because the pressure was irresistible.

Oh, that we could rise above the shallow expectations of our time and see the purpose and value that God sees in us! (I'm preaching to myself here) Why should I care what people think? Is it because I love them and want to please them, or do I just want to use their approval to boost my pride? Who am I serving here?

A friend of my mother's was telling me a story about a woman who was not beautiful to the world's standards, but was so others-centered that her joyful spirit, her quickness to listen and sympathize, and her genuine sincerity drew people to her, and even men deeply valued her friendship.

So I guess that's the simple answer. The more selfless you are, the more beautiful you will become.

But what do you think? What is better, make-up or no make-up? A little bit every once in awhile, or a lot often? Colors, or natural?

I guess I don't think make-up is bad, or necessarily vain. It's kinda like jewelry, it dresses you up and makes you look like you are neat and orderly. But what if it becomes barrier to a good self-image without it? *shrug*

Well, if you are a guy and you can't identify with any of this, that's okay, but just go listen to You're Beautiful, maybe it will say what I'm trying to say in a way you can understand.

it hath been too longeth

2010-11-10T15:32:00.000-08:00

Well, here I am. Feeling like it's a good time to write. Sometimes I just itch to write something even though I have no idea what about and I just watch the body of text grow and grow under my fingertips until I decide it's high time to go do something useful like fold those two heaping baskets of laundry right next to me. But lets pretend those aren't there, shall we?

What if I tried a subject I've always figured was too awkward to tackle? Like getting married!

This may sound surprising to you, but there's a slight chance I'll get married someday. If I don't die or become a nun before then it may very well happen. Ever since I was little,

I've thought of a "husband" as a big grown-up male individual, who had a beard and would basically be like a second Dad.

And the thought of him introducing me with: "oh, and here's my little wife," made me envision a short and stout version of myself in a homeschool-mom-denim-jumper-with-crew-socks-under-velcro-sandals.

Alas. Welcome to the inside of my head.

Why do I always see the future me as not me? At age seventeen, I feel more me than ever, but I always forgot to imagine that when I was twelve dreading seventeen. I wonder what a 90 year old me would be like. I want to say ugh, but I shouldn't because I know when I'm 90 I'll feel insulted.

So anyway, I guess a married me would still be one hundred percent me. But I still have those stupid little worries, like "what if my husband's overweight and snores like a vacuum cleaner, and what if I get grumpy and stay a terrible cook all my life?" Really rational worries, like that.

I guess my current perspective is one of complacent contentedness. I like having my own room and personal bubble of sacred space. I already have a brother around to answer the classic "does this make me look fat" question. I have wonderful friends and I'm busy, so why ever marry?

Of course, now and then, the thought of being an old maid is mortifying and the thought of having a little-little baby all of my own to hold sounds exhilarating, so contentedness is sort of moody, but for the most part I'm settled. :D

I already picked a wedding dress. Well, not really. I have an ideeaa, but it's probably morbidly expensive. I do think it would be cool if the imaginary "he" would wear something nifty in the wedding like this shirt:

That would make my day.

So, I guess this post just goes to show how foolish and ignorant I am about growing up and getting married. I figure if I document my silliness now, I can look back and feel like I've made some progress someday.

In conclusion*, you'll always be changing, but no matter where you are in life, you will always be you. The End. Thankyou, Thankyouverymuch.

*I figured this post needed something profound and purposeful-sounding.

almost died laughing...

2010-07-26T14:30:00.001-07:00

This is an excerpt from WORLD magazine:

"Since 1982 San Jose State University has awarded a prize for the best opening "for the worst of all possible novels." The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest-named after the writer who wrote "It was a dark and stormy night..."-recently announced it 2010 winner... Rick Cheeseman of Minnesota grabbed the Fantasy award for this beauty:

"The wood nymph fairies blissfully pranced in the morning light past the glistening dewdrops on the meadow thistles by the Old Mill, ignorant of the daily slaughter that occurred just behind its lichen-encrusted walls, twin 20-ton mill stones savagely ripping apart the husks of wheat seed, gleefully smearing the starchy entrails across their dour granite faces in unspeakable botanical horror and carnage-but that's not our story; ours is about fairies!"

That's all one sentence!! Oh, I'm going to diiiiiiee.

I had a Happy Birthday

2010-07-22T09:43:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I officially have been around for 17 years. That's a long time. But I won't complain about feeling old because, really, I'm just a day older than I was yesterday, and I've been aging like that for, well, a while.

And all my favorite things happened yesterday.
Ice Cream, Seeing every single family member in the same day, Nephews, Adventure movie, Thai food, Thrift Stores(!!!), Sleaddventures' Toy shop, sunshine & Grants Pass Happiness, not necessarily in that order.

My life is so very cool right now.

And. Seventeen is overrated. It feels like sixteen, just sounds different.

What am I to do?

2010-07-09T11:45:00.000-07:00

These past two weeks my family visited many monuments and memorials of America's glorious and somewhat tragic past.
Moving through the Holocaust Memorial Museum, little unexpected things would trigger a stream of tears down my face, even though I'd grown hardened and dull to the horrific images of torture and suffering endured by the Jews. The building is brick, intentionally industrial and barren inside. Lots of dark granite, gray concrete, gray steel, gray walls, gray everything.
The black and white colorlessness of the photograph makes them almost unreal.
The horrific, skeletal nakedness of emaciated humanity all around you: in the videos, on the walls, depicted in dioramas. So surreal, so...unacceptable.
Harder still to bear are the testimonies of those who survived the concentration camps, describing the total destruction of their identity, dignity, individuality and humanity. To hear how they lost the will to feel, to love, to be human.

And in my heart grew a restlessness. A clamoring question: What am I to do? This is the past. history. done. gone. over with. The pain that those innocent millions endured was silenced forever by their bitter and untimely deaths. What does all this tragedy have to do with me?
My question was answered in reading the words someone had written on the comments page at the end of the exhibit tour.
"I swear to do the only thing that I can do: I will remember your pain always. לזכור"
It's true, I thought. When something has happened of terrible consequence in history, all that's left for us to do is to remember.
I felt a strange helplessness, thereafter. Like I was frustrated that I didn't even have the emotional capacity to mourn every tragic death and atrocity suffered during the Holocaust. I was angry with myself that I couldn't truly know their suffering.
Seeing the extensive grounds of the Arlington cemetery affected me similarly. So much DEATH! So much sacrifice!

Would I pay my debt by reading every single headstone, and pondering every soldier's past life? Would I pay my debt by standing in the sweltering heat day after day like the guard for the tomb of the unknown soldier?

What am I to do?

I must remember. Always. The blood, the sweat, and the tears that bought me the freedom that I so often think I'm entitled to ought to have an enduring place in my heart.
This is what I do for my country: I remember.

This'n'that here'n'there

2010-07-03T14:30:00.000-07:00

Outside the Creation Museum in Kentucky

Outside an all-you-can-eat-buffet

Nice to have something to rest against, after all that walking.

Chicago Airport

I loved the lighting in this place

This is an adorable ice-cream shop right by the river in Louisville (Northern Kentucky)

Hang in there...

2010-06-04T07:53:00.000-07:00

...do you ever get daunted by a large thick chunk of text in your Google Reader feed? Your brow gets a worried furrow when you see words like "Scriptures says..." and "we" instead of "I" and a whole lot of intense vocabulary on top of all that?

Okay, maybe you don't, but sometimes I do, and I always feel guilty for not wanting to dive in and wrap my head around the theological concepts that my friends have obviously put a lot of time and effort into posting, so I skim it fast and tell myself I'll read it later, right?

So I don't blame you if you're skimming this and wishing that I'd posted an inane joke I received via chain mail, or a typical picture of me doing something idiotic, or a vague poetic muse on life that means nothing to anybody else but me...you know, something harmless like that. But today is not your lucky non-committal day, so either feel free to exit and say "boorring" or keep reading like the martyr you are.

Wow. You are a hardcore friend. Thank you for persevering this far.

Last night I prayed that God would reveal to me "the desires of my heart".
("Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart." -Psalm 37:4)
My trouble is knowing what my desires are and if deep down they're the right ones
("You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions." -James 4:3)
So I asked God to be more specific.

Now, they say you can have conversations with God, and I always wondered about that 'cause I never really heard much back, but lately I've discovered the knack to it, and I'm so excited about it that I think I ought to patent the technique. But I'll tell you royalty-free for now.
I never heard much back because I didn't know how to listen. Here's how it worked last night:

I'd ask a question, and the answer would just pop in my head, as simple as that. It was always my voice saying it in my own English, in my own rambling way inside my head, and so I've never thought that God could be in all that giving me the answer. But now I've gotten suspicious and I think He's there. I think that answering voice is called my Conscience.

And what amazes me is if I don't read God's word, that answering voice is either silent, or reeaally quiet so that my ADHD attention span wanders all around and I'm thinking about something else before I've actually listen for God's answer. But if I have read the Word, then the answers come louder and clearer.

So here's how I did it (this has all been translated out of Alexaish, which is really fast and much more impulsive and sometimes says two sentences at once):
"Dear, Beautiful, Awesome God. Will you tell me what I desire in my heart of hearts?"
Then my mind rambles "Well, you know how you are always super happy when you've had a
purposeful day? And you always feel empty and depressed when you didn't have any direction in the day and you just wandered around going through the eat/sleep/schoolwork/chores/glare-at-younger-brother motions? I think you desire more than anything to have a really clear purpose for your life. Not a vague Westminster catechism purpose, like "glorify God and enjoy Him forever." You want to know how, you just want God to be more specific!"
So that's when I prayed, "God, will You be more specific? About Your purpose for me, the Alexa Sleadd?"
Silence.
Then comes the ramble, which I always thought was just me. What if you just pretend you're God for a second.
"What?!!"
You know, if you've read so much about Him, isn't it safe to speculate what He would say?
"Okay..."
Then the answers came. I just started talking to myself, and He somehow used 1) my knowledge of Scripture, and 2) my Conscience that comes from Him, to answer me in a way I could understand.

Here's what He (or Him through me, or my conscience, or whoever it was) said. Alexa. Wherever you are I've put you there. I don't give specifics. I prefer to use my Word. It's sufficient. Your conscience, and my Spirit give the specifics and if you aren't immersed in my Word, they will abandon you.
Right now, is the 'big moment' you feel say you're always waiting for. You say to me that you feel like the Christian you've always dreamt of being is always around the corner, in the future, the great big ethereal "purpose" you tell yourself that I have for you is always in your next season of life. When you were a child you thought as a teenager you'd have life all figured out. Now that you're a teenager, you think that adulthood is where my ultimate plan for you lies. That's not how it works. Right now is what I've given you, and I expect you to make the most of it. Keeping your room clean isn't something you'll magically do the day you get married. Sanctification means you quit saying "well someday I'll be who God wants me to be...", it means you say "This is the day the Lord has made, and I will do everything I can to get one baby step closer to fulfilling my ultimate destiny." And that may very well be the desire of your heart. You want to be here for a reason, you're dying (or living, rather)to be a part of something greater than yourself. You hate a day without purpose, and that just goes to show you desire a Purpose driven life. (There's a reason that's a book title.)
"So what's my specific purpose though?"
This was when He dumped a load of my memorized scriptures on me. So that's why Mom makes me memorize day in, day out.
Honor your father and mother. I can't bless you if you don't. Honor means more than "obey" by the way.
Give me your firstfruits. I own you, quite frankly, I bought you at a very high price, and you are obligated to give everything of yourself to me.
For some reason, the thought of being owned by God was the sweetest thing to my ears.

Anyway, the answer went on, but my mother wants me to get out of bed right now and check in to life as we know it, so I'm going to honor her and end this post.

But do you get the idea? God speaks to us through what we read.

I've learned a valuable lesson. Reading the bible does absolutely nothing for you. Those without saving faith do it all the time. Praying to God does absolutely nothing for you. People do it in movies, songs and books all the time just for sentimental effect. But reading and praying doing the what those two tell you to do, that's where the rubber of sanctification meets to proverbial road.

And by the way, thanks for reading this far. God has a wonderful plan for your life.

That still small voice...

2010-05-31T19:52:00.000-07:00

I'm not super spiritual. *shrug* I say this meaning that I struggle to think outside the box, my box, my little material box. "Real" to me means something I've physically experienced.

But I am a spiritual being. I am what C.S. called "amphibious"; half material, half spiritual. Some days I cannot deny that there is something in me somewhere that doesn't fit in this dimension, and some days there is a something or a someone that keeps tugging me deep within towards that dimension to which my soul yearns to call home.

Today was one of those days.

Can I deny that I was made for something more? I am learning to listen to that still small voice that keeps beckoning me to see with more than just my eyes, to feel without my hands, to hear more than the static chaos of my everyday world. The more I listen to that voice, the closer I feel to the heaven I was made for.

You ought to listen too. And who knows where you'll find yourself.

Sometimes

2010-05-16T21:31:00.000-07:00

Sometimes a sigh speaks better than any word could ever tell.

Sometimes eyes betray the most guarded of secrets.

Sometimes silence sings the most comforting of songs.

Sometimes a hug changes everything.

And sometimes we throw it all away, and crush those we love with what we should have said but didn't, or said but ought to have left well enough alone.

Sometimes.

Photos of TJ part 1

2010-03-24T23:05:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday, I did a little photography of my friend TJ in the backyard and in my room. Some were planned and some (guess which ones) were spontaneous...:) I have more to come, to stay tuned. Let me know what you think...

Okay, I'd like you to vote on which of the following is your favorite...

It was really cold that day...

2010-03-08T16:54:00.000-08:00

Goofy Gander
Have I posted this before? I can't remember.

I suppose this duck had an itch... made for a nice picture...:)

Remarkable Lookalike

2010-02-12T08:39:00.000-08:00

This is a certain Mr. N. Sleadd

And this is his son. 19 years later of course.

Remarkable, eh?

of Conspicuous Similarities

2010-02-08T08:52:00.000-08:00

Why do the words Mundane and Monday sound so similar, and so often mean the same thing?

(Monday; the dreaded first day of the work/school week.
Mundane; boring, common, unimaginative, unremarkable, same-old-same-old)

Been thinking lately...

2010-02-04T16:31:00.000-08:00

that I have some really wacky friends. Beware. YOU may be one of them.

Just thought I'd...say that.

Crash before it's too late

2010-01-27T10:18:00.000-08:00

Yes. Tomorrow morning I shall bid farewell to my oh-so-cozy bed at an ungodly hour, squeeze into stiff and starchy dress clothes and go to a speech tournament. I have so many preparatory things to do today that I just don't know what to do with myself. So I made myself a cute check-off list, just like my big brother (Master Check-Listerer). I set to work for an hour or two, digging through my closet and drawers, and Caleb's closet and drawers looking for matching outfit ingredients. I got them all coordinated, ironed almost everything, hung them up in our rooms and crashed on the couch with my checklist. WHAT?!!! Only two tiny boxes to check off?!! I'm appalled. I should have written my checklist like this:

Walk to bedroom ecstatically
rummage through closet for forever with perseverance
dig for eternity through Caleb's crammed drawers with fervor
iron diligently
run two loads of laundry with valor
hang finished product triumphantly!

That means many much more tiny boxes to check off. More impressive=more ego.

And now I am wasting my time posting about this because I have to crash sometime and I'd rather it be today as opposed to tomorrow

Official Freakout Time

2010-01-21T16:23:00.000-08:00

I've made a mess of the beginning of my speech year. I edited and tried three different interpretive speeches through the winter trying to decide on something before settling on my current HI (Humorous Interp). Problem; I picked it two days ago, and have only five more days to memorize it. :) Pathetic.
I'm surprised I'm even on the computer right now. I think I'm going into denial.

Now this fellow that I know, he operates under the name of Creighton, is, as I tell my friends, my inspiration in interp memorization. He "memorized" a ten minute Dramatic Interpretive speech on the way to a tournament, and got (correct me if I wrong) SECOND PLACE. But then again, Creighton is Creighton, and I'm not, so I can't expect to do so well on so little memory. But, golly.

I have no negative debate brief to speak of, and I haven't given an impromptu for months. My Duo partner and I are...*ahem*...self-diagnosed procrastinators, so we're scrambling to memorize. Hey, but we'll match!

Bring it ON.

Beauty: It's gone out of fashion

2010-01-14T16:23:00.000-08:00

Literally.

If you've never heard the term "Haute Coutoure", well, you're not missing anything. French for "high sewing", it's basically the use of people and "fashion" as an art form. I'm afraid, like most things that have emerged from France, it's...dare I say it...absurd. There you have it.

I find it remarkable that model scouts go through thousands of women and only pick the tall, skinny, beautiful, and flawless women, and then completely hack up their hair, make them look as extra-terrestrial as possible.

Uselessness is apparently highly "haute" these days. Pointlessly impractical clothing is oh so cutting edge. Most people wouldn't be caught dead wearing the majority of modern runway fashions but they'll ooh and ah at them on page.

So, what is beauty?

For some reason these two following paintings have always been iconic to me as Beautiful.

Her eyes are so real, and I'm always drawn to try and decipher her expression. Is she looking at or past me? She has a soft beauty that is most captivating.

Such poise! Such grace! What calm benevolence, serenity, and self-assurance!

Beauty, to me, has more to do with attitude than attire. The Girl with a Pearl Earring is simply dressed, wearing little adornment (besides the pearl, of course).
In the second painting, Leonardo DaVinci has only detailed the lady's face, and the effect is far more eye-catching than if he had completed the rest of her.

What do you associate in your mind as beautiful?

What makes a post worth a comment?

2010-01-09T12:38:00.000-08:00

Ironic?

2010-01-09T12:24:00.000-08:00

New Year's Resolutions:

Eat more vegetables.

Talk slower in general.

Stop telling other people things about myself that will bore them to tears, like resolutions, for example.

This Morning

2009-12-29T18:02:00.000-08:00

I feel cold just looking at it

Draidyn and the Dragon part 3!!!

2009-12-29T16:07:00.000-08:00

I know, it's been a long time coming!
You may need to go back to review... Part 1 Part 2

Our hero, once reaching the cavern’s mouth, dismounted and entered with care

When his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he gasped at what he saw there!

All ‘round the dragon’s cave were piles of glittering treasure

Gold, silver, precious jewels and riches beyond measure

But all of these stolen, beautiful gems, in Draidyn’s mind, did not compare

To the maiden he saw in the midst of it all, so lonely, so pale, so fair!

“Ahem,” he coughed, alerting the girl.”I suppose this may sound cliché,

But I’ve slain Zatura, that hideous beast, and I’d like bear thee away!”

“Lord bless thee!” she wept, and off they went; the treasures could wait until later

“Please, Draidyn, mayn’t we go to the king, for I am his long lost daughter?”

The king had never known such joy as he felt, that day whence they returned

But his daughter’s heart he did not hoard, for to Draidyn, it had turned

In Draidyn’s honor, a feast was prepared, for he dared to do what was right

And down on a knee, Draidyn knelt ‘fore the king, who dubbed him a “Valiant Knight”

But bittersweet was his victory, for his dear old man was dead

Yet through his sorrow, was joy abounding, for he and the Princess soon wed

And through the realm, the tidings were told, of Victory, Justice and Love

Then all the inhabitants marveled at this, praising their king above

The Lord blessed Draidyn’s wife with children aplenty, filling their home with laughter

And under this Provision and Protection, they lived happily…ever…after

THE END

And I finally sent it in!! Two days before deadline! Phew!

Wish You Were Here Part 2

2009-12-28T21:31:00.000-08:00

As I said, just balmy... ;P

Wish you were here

2009-12-28T17:15:00.000-08:00

I'm in balmy Klamath Falls at the moment. Grandmother is taking me on a sightseeing trip. :) A sightseeing trip! We've seen...four(?) bald eagles, billions of red tail hawks, magpies, canada geese, kestrels, ducks, and others that I wouldn't remember the names of. I got up real close to a bunch of deer, and a gorgeous buck. The hills around here are epic.
I introduced Grandma to Brian Regan last night. We stayed at an old hunting lodge, and the owner's dog and I hit it off. He gave me a sloppy kiss, but he accidentally scratched my face when he put his paws on the back of my chair. I don't hold it against him. I forget to trim my nails sometimes too.
Today we looked at primitive scratchings of "prehistoric" natives on the side of a cliff-face. I almost lost the lunch I skipped when I watched a hawk eat its lunch of rodent entrails out in a field. I fetched the binoculars for a closer look.

I counted eight fighter jets flying overhead today.

Sometimes I think I have a really interesting life.

Everything is icy cold gorgeous barren desolate lonely windswept magnificent and breath-takingly beautiful out here. Wish you were here.

Christmas Cheer

2009-12-26T21:38:00.000-08:00

Cheers!

I'm on my laptop right now.

That has such a delicious ring to it.

Indeed, I got a laptop for Christmas.

My Grandmother has a laptop that she never uses, and she just gave it to me!!! The keys aren't even worn shiny!!! And it has Adobe Photoshop Elements 7!!! Yahooaduh!!!

Pretty Much Epic

2009-11-28T11:41:00.000-08:00

(This is my pencil-wielding nephew)

Draidyn and the Dragon part 2

2009-11-23T20:43:00.000-08:00

Draidyn refused to lose hope, and pressed on through Valley with fervor
The kind peasants he met, by generous gifts, completed his full suit of armor.
One humble peasant gave him his steed, the greatest gift of them all
Though riding was something which Draidyn knew not, he learned after many a fall

As the farms petered out, the terrain became rough, and a dark shape loomed far and distant
He knew it to be Mount of Zathura’s Lair, he recognized it in an instant
When Draidyn reached the root of its slopes, he recalled the legends and tales
That no man’s sword, no matter how strong, can pierce a she-dragon’s scales

“Lord,” he breathed, gazing at his sword, “Thou art my lone Provision”
This mere blade will save me not, I ask for Your Protection.”
What he did not know (he’d not been told) was the sense of a dragon’s nose
And that if a man, the mountain nears, the monster quickly knows

His steed gave a knicker, a moment passed, then a shadow fell all around
the horse reared back, eyes wide with fear, hurling Draidyn straight to the ground!
Not a second later, the boy was engulfed in a withering blast of heat
Zathura alighted, tossing her head, convinced of her foe’s defeat

Imagine with me, the extent to which, the monster was astonished
When he picked himself up off of the ground and waved his sword unvanquished!
An incinerating blaze she bequeathed to him, but was once again befuddled
to see him stand, his sword aglow, his melted armor puddled

As Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego had all withstood the flame,
Our hero had, by Providence, likewise endured the same!
Although, unlike King Nebuchadnezzar, Zathura did not relent
She bared her claws, and lashed with speed, his death her sole intent

‘tis said no dragon can ever fall, but by dragon’s pow’r alone
t’was dragon’s fire that lit his sword, so brightly red it shone
and as she struck to take his life, she found herself de-clawed!
In fury, the dragon struck again, but this time was de-pawed.

The blade, it glowed still brighter, as if in joyful glee
It danced, it shone, it stung until the monster turned to flee
But refuge, Zathura did not find, her neck soon lost its head
Thus the kingdom was avenged, its Behemoth was dead!

And in the moment the deed was done, the weapon’s light blinked out,
So Draidyn threw back his head, hills resounding with his shout
“Praise be to Him who gives strength to the weak, and power to the powerless!!
Justice is wielded in His hand to avenge the widowed and fatherless!!!”

To be continued...

"Draidyn and the Dragon" by myself

2009-11-18T10:36:00.000-08:00

“Here, here my son, sit upon my knee,

Now, what fair tale shall I tell to thee?”

“Father, tell me of monsters, a Princess, a knight!”

“Ah, then ‘Draidyn and the Dragon’ you shall hear tonight:

Long ago, not far from here,

an old man was trudging homeward

When he spied a distant cottage, which in ruins now smoldered

His rheumatics forgotten, he broke into a run,

Once reaching the ashen heap, he suspected arson!

When finding fierce claw marks on the charred door,

His suspicions were confirmed even more.

“This is Dragon’s work.” he muttered, and he kicked a blackened chair

When an unmistakable child’s cry pierced the smoky air.

The man feverishly scrabbled through rubble and debris,

‘til at last the wailing babe, from the ashes, he pulled free

“Hush, hush, little boy,” he cooed, “Protection I pledge to thee,

Thou art the son I never had, thine father I shall be.

Thy new name is now Draidyn, for thou withstood the fire

Avenge your parent’s blood, may it be your heart’s desire.”

Seasons passed, and the child grew, the man was continually amazed

For the boy could play in the hearth, amid fire and flame, unscathed!

In the man’s heart, he understood, why this boy alone survived

And the truth of his parent’s death, from Draidyn he did not hide

Draidyn loved to read the scriptures, to ponder his Father’s love

It comforted him to know he served a Sovereign Lord above

Whenever he prayed, he sensed God’s will for his destiny

To destroy Zathura the she-Dragon, who slaughtered his ancestry

Full well, he knew God’s call was clear, and shan’t be put to test

So at age eighteen he grasped his sword and began this sacred quest

Farewell he bid to those he loved, but promised no return

In the village he questioned many, of the dragon he hoped to learn

Rumors spread like wildfire through the villages of the land

Of a God-sent boy in defiance, of Zathura would stand

In this way he bore their burden, all hopes were laid on him,

Yet their fervent prayers were a strong support, though the task was no less grim

News reached the king of the little realm, the boy’s sure fate he mourned

But every knight in the castle, Draidyn’s foolishness they scorned

However, King Thaedis could not ignore the boy’s bold Christian courage

Thus he pledged, “if the boy survives”, his daughter’s hand in marriage

The trouble was, the daughter he’d had was long ago snatched by Zathura

So “if she still lives, and if he succeeds, he probably wouldn’t mind marrying her.”

“Is that not how all fairy tales end, at least all the ones that I hear?

Those say nothing of kings losing their queens, their daughters and all that is dear.”

To be continued...

Sweet Sixteen Pictures from Anne Mikael Photography

2009-11-15T21:54:00.000-08:00

Another school assignment

2009-11-13T07:41:00.000-08:00

:)

2009-11-04T11:57:00.000-08:00

Feedback Time

2009-10-21T19:06:00.000-07:00

I should post more often. What type of posts do you like best? Should I tell jokes? More poetry? More artwork? Recipes? Marital advice? (just kidding) Should I sing a song for you?

Today was the day that all days should be

2009-10-08T22:15:00.000-07:00

My heart is so full, I'm starting to leak. In the form of a blogpost.
Sometimes I wonder if anyone in the world has it as good as me!

We are adding on to our house. My brother-in-law, who has sweet-carpentry-skills, comes every day to build, and Caleb and I enjoy hanging around and helping immensely. That is, we immensely enjoy helping. But we do hang around immensely. I can't vouch for the helping.
I have to say this. Sewing, Drawing, and Philosophizing about all things known to myself are lovely, fulfilling pasttimes, but they don't bring the same satisfaction that shoveling for hours, pulling nails, yanking boards around, and getting covered with concrete dust bring to one's inner area where satisfaction is typically stored. Uh-huh.

But today was unusually groovy. My younger brother and I squeezed into Nathanael's truck and we went to the Hardware store. I was already approximately filthy and I felt a certain pride in my hillbillyishness. Caleb and I munched popcorn that is always served hot there, and admired the store's selection of Diablo saw blades, and menacing hammers. After Nathanael had purchased the lumber he needed, we scooted back home. The glory of the cool morning nearly took my breath away, that and trying to avoid choking on my popcorn. Lo and behold, when we pulled into the driveway, my sister was there!! My adorable nephews were there too, to spend the day!! And oh I wish I could describe the...the...I don't know...the awesomeness of today!

A charter technician dropped by and I couldn't help but wonder what impression he got of us. The laundry basket was overflowing with mis-matched socks in the living room, and stuffed animals and toys for the nephews graced the premises. The whole house was ringing with the sound of Nathanael hammering away, and my sister's cooking permeated the vicinity with epicurean aromas. Caleb and little Boone were squirting eachother in the back yard with squirt guns, and little James was snoozing in his car seat, in the middle of the open floor, oblivious to the surrounding harmonious chaos. People...people....everywhere! I paused for a moment, taking it all in, and thought YES! This is IT! This is LIFE! This is how I want things to be like for as long as I live! Family. Together. Music. Productivity. Laughter. Noise. Sunshine. YES! Glory be to Him who is the Giver of all good things! Wow! Then, this evening, we went to a small party with friends, and I just felt so...blessed to have some incredible people to fellowship with! My face is still stiff from a perpetual grin. :)

Some people have a higher standard of living than I do, but most have it much, much worse. Though it is helpful to look to those richer than I to try and find humility, or to look at those poorer than I to learn to be content, comparison ultimately brings emptiness. It is when I turn my eyes to Him who gave me all things, without whom I'd be wallowing in my own sin, misery and self-absorption , that is when contentedness finds its place in my heart.

Lord, if it takes me a lifetime of blessing Your name to completely thank You for the mercies You have shown me this day, I praise You that You give me the chance of eternity to thank You for a lifetime of blessing, vapor though it is.

Today was the day that all days should be. Why? Because my King REIGNS!!

So...how was your day?

This is the latest model

2009-09-16T17:19:00.000-07:00

I've been at it again

2009-08-28T09:51:00.000-07:00

These are drawings I did of Winnie-the-Pooh. The sketchy drawing style is very difficult to achieve. Pooh is so cute! So it was worth it.

Dealing with Daylight: contemplations from my back lawn

2009-08-13T16:04:00.001-07:00

This beautiful, sunny day taunts me.
It peeps in my window and beckons that I abandon my air conditioned abode for the breeze in my hair and the sunshine filtering speckled patterns of light and shade all around me.
"Ah," I say to the ladybug journeying my knee, "this is where I belong."
But days like this torment me. They demand my doting attention. I feel strangely guilty when I retreat indoors, knowing these days of gold are numbered in a pouch, spent every twenty four hours, never seen again.
I know that one day I shall lay, weak; my pouch of golden days nigh spent, my once strong legs feeble, my once smooth skin in need of ironing, my eager ears muffled, my curious eyes watery and dim. A beautiful, sunny day, much like this one, will peep through my tiny bedside window, beckoning, taunting me. Perhaps my dim eyes will water more than usual, my foggy mind will carry me back to the day I refused the beckon, trading bliss for a glowing computer screen. I shall mourn the gold I'd wasted.
Perhaps a sturdy grandson of mine will guide my gurney to the lawn, where the breeze will kiss my pale cheek once again, the ladybug will journey on my knee, the light and shade shall speckle my already speckled skin. Then the day shall taunt me no longer. I will have paid my debt.
"Ah," I shall sigh, "this is where I belong."

You too have a pouch. Spend it wisely.

"Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil." (Ephesians 5:15&16)

Gone Camping

2009-08-01T10:26:00.001-07:00

Mouse Mountain!! Creepy, I know

At the rest stop there was a semi truck carrying hundreds of fire hydrants
If I were a Dalmation...It kicked the bucket, I'm afraid...

I wandered in the roadside ditch taking pictures while we waited for the Strom's car to stop complaining.

Mr. Humongous Beetle is trying to fly away. He landed in the white bin. I got to hold him for a bit. He tickles.

Egyptian War for the millionth time.

East Lake, in view of Paulina Peak. We stood at the tip tip top actually, with a view of the whole valley.

This log is affectionately called the Grunt Stool. Don't ask

Meet Professor Fatso. He and I got acquainted.

This is how he earned his name

The Lava Tubes

Deep within

This is a place where those who chicken out can recline

Only the few and the brave continued into the crushing unknown. Filthy knees are a badge of honor and courage.

It actually got even worse further down...

On the way back. Finally we can stand straight again!

Emerging from the cave

Painting Birthday Party

2009-07-24T12:03:00.000-07:00

Tessa and Mrs. Deems gave me a necklace.

Thank You!!

Poem-with-no-name-yet

2009-07-24T11:51:00.000-07:00

There's this tiresome girl that I know,
She seems to go wherever I go
She's not like my shadow or anything,
She's always there before me, just watching
Each time I seek her, she's immediately there
Gazing back at with that penetrating stare
Nothing can be hidden from those piercing eyes
They strip away my charades and disguise
I glare back, seeking emotion in that complexion
Only to find my own sorrow in reflection
She always seems to feel just as I
She mostly looks critical, she hates to cry
I'm suspicious she must not have much in her head
For when I speak, she merely repeats what I've said
She knows all my secrets, my shames and my joys
She shares my opinions concerning clothes and boys
I'm not sure what to make of her
She's cautious of me
So why, each time I look in the mirror
Forever this tiresome girl, I see?

Sixteen years and counting: Ramblings on life and living

2009-07-21T16:49:00.000-07:00

This morning it took me a while to remember I was born this day sixteen years ago.
I used to be proud of getting older because I thought it meant maybe someday when I was older I would be pretty. :)
Well, to tell you the truth, I was a lot cuter then than I am now, and now I don't have anything else to look forward to except maybe for 18 when I can vote, and 21 when I can...um...not drink alcohol even if I'm allowed to.
If you must know, when I was eleven, I decided I would stay that age for the rest of my life. I didn't at all want to be a woman, much less a teenage girl, which is worse. But I've changed, unfortunately. I grew several inches and now I get a little choked up when I hold babies, and I love my bible more than I used to. Maybe growing up isn't all that bad? Now I do all the boring things that I used to despise, like brushing my hair and keeping an email address. I hated how all the other little girls were trying to be all grown up, and wore lip gloss and glitter. I used to think that sitting and talking to one's friends was mind-numbingly dull, but now I like it more than hide-and-go-seek! I don't go from the depths of depression to the heights of ecstasy in the course of one hour anymore, and drama doesn't come as passionately as it used to.

I still have some growing up to do, though, I may be slower than most. I'm the only girl I know who likes swimming in the river, and I like getting smokey/dirty on camping trips. I speak my mind when I shouldn't, and I hold back the right words when I should. Everything around me, in general, is three times funnier to me than anyone else, it seems. I don't like getting up in the morning, nor do I relish going to bed early at night... *sigh* Sometimes I wonder if I'm still a silly eleven year old, but just trying to hide it.

Maturity is elusive. You never quite fully attain it until you join the cloud of witnesses in eternity. It's a constant pursuit, trying to become more like Christ each day.

Imagine if you found out the exact amount of hours you had left to live? Would you live life differently? Would each breath seem sweeter? Would you praise God for each new birthday He gives you?

Baby Brock

2009-07-19T21:26:00.000-07:00

So, I heard I'm allowed to post these on my blog...

PHOTO CREDIT: VOYLA STEVES

How do you Worship??

2009-07-03T08:15:00.000-07:00

This morning, I read Psalms 96, 97 & 98. I was rather struck how all three of these, 98 particularly, establish how we ought to worship!! I'll just do a blow by blow of some of the verses that stood out to me.

Psalm 96:1 "Oh sing to the Lord a new song; sing to the Lord, all the earth!
Do you sing new songs, or prefer to stick with the cherished old hymns?
2 Sing to the Lord , bless His name; tell of His salvation from day to day.
I usually only sing to the Lord on Sunday, not "day to day". Hmm
8 Ascribe to the Lord, O families of the people, ascribe to the Lord glory and strength!
Worship is a family affair.
9 Worship the Lord in the splendor of holiness (or in holy attire) tremble before Him, all the earth!
Worship should be done in fear! Reverence is a vital ingredient in worship.
98:4 Make a joyful noise to the Lord all the earth, break forth into joyous songs and sing praises! Sing praises to the lord with the lyre... and the sound of melody! With trumpets and the sound of the horn, make a joyful noise before the King, the Lord!
150:4 Praise Him with tambourine and dance; praise him with strings and pipe! Praise Him with sounding cymbals! Let everything that has breath praise the Lord! Praise the Lord!
Who says worship can't be loud?

I actually favor a worship service that includes slow, solemn, contemplative songs, in reflection of our sin and brokenness. But our sin has been paid for! We have been redeemed! That's worth celebration, is it not?!!

You're invited!!!

2009-06-29T13:08:00.001-07:00

Scrawling Time!

2009-06-10T13:58:00.000-07:00

So sometimes I get the urge to doodle, but since drawing still-lifes and portraits take way too much concentration, I usually opt for something a little less sophisticated. I make up stuff as I go. Another thing I did, which I highly recommend, was play pictionary with myself, and filled a page with random drawings that the game assigned to me. It was fun 'cause I usually can't think of anything to draw.

Pictures from the trip

2009-05-20T09:38:00.000-07:00

Photograph by Voyla Steves
Birds rarely stick around when you try and take their picture, but this one was desperately trying to get our attention. Sure 'nough, there was a nest in the gravel, and it was trying to lead us away.
Photograph by Voyla Steves

Photograph by Alexa Sleadd

Look in the poor bunny's ears. The only reason I got so close for this picture was because he was too miserable to hop away. His ears were drooping, and lots of times he would try scratching them by stuffing his long footsies into them. It was cute in a pitiful way.

Hey PEOPLE!

2009-05-14T22:07:00.000-07:00

Well, this is Alexa Sleadd, thought I'd report on today's hapnins...
Grandma and I drove all over Ashland this morning taking pictures, and now we are in Willows, CA (just south of Redding) at a hotel.
Now, at this hotel, I dove into the pool and was delighted at how warm the water was. I swam for about 8 minutes, until this guy comes walkin' out. His face was beet red, he was sporting a grungy tank-top, shorts, bit of a beer belly and long scraggly hair. I didn't seriously look at him for more than a third of a second, it was all I needed to get creeped out. I nonchalantly got out of the pool and sauntered back to my hotel room. My heart was pounding. Now I feel dumb for over-reacting, and I can't blame the fellow for closely resembling a creep, but better safe than sorry, eh? I kinda wish my older bro were here. Ah well, must fend for myself.
I've taken lots of pictures today.

This Ferrari is in incredible condition. I walked aroung the back and took the following picture:

You can't see it well, but there's a glass window showing the engine underneath. Amazing!

Aaudi! There were a bunch of Audis...

I have a bunch more pictures. There was a Lotus!!!! It's awesome!! I'll post as soon as this ridiculous hotel connection gets its rear into gear..

Goodbye Dears!

2009-05-13T14:23:00.000-07:00

I'm journeying away to a fair and distant land. I shan't return until Sunday evening, and I know I'll be desperately missed by all my fans out there. I'm going to a NANPA conference in Sacramento with my mother's mom, (my Mom's mother, to be precise) to learn more about Nature photography, and I'll prolly stay in a hotel with a pool no doubt, and you'll all be so jealous. *toothy grin*

Farewell, faithful fans, fair friends and Google reader subscribers, I bid thee good day.

Freedom, sweet freedom

2009-05-13T13:51:00.000-07:00

On Monday, J Chin, Tots, Mr. Curly, Aaron and I all took an advanced placement physics test that none of us were really prepared for... My only consolation is that I didn't get up and quit like two of the three public school kids taking physics tests along with us. Whee. BIG consolation.
Seriously though, I'm slapping band-aids on my ego right now...

We blew off steam for an hour at Baskin' Robbins afterwards, over ice cream, to celebrate the end of our physics year. I thought it humorous that the song playing when we first came in was "I Will Survive" which, I suppose, was rather timely after our three hour, mind-numbing physics test. Sigh.
It was a terrible way to end the physics class, though. It only made me feel like a complete dolt,
and it somehow crowded out all the nice fuzzy memories of physics class on Tuesday afternoons.

After all, studying physics has been such an incredible experience. I've learned soo much about the order, the complexity and the design of the world around us, and it's given me both a greater awe, and a deeper appreciation of what God did in those first six days of Creation. It seems the more I learn, the more I'm aware of how little I know. I guess I got to looking forward to seeing my buddies every week, and I know I'm going to miss all the good laughs we've had and the intellectual discussions we've delved into. I'm going to miss J Chin's subtle genius, Tots' explosive skepticism, Mr. Curly's hilarity that gets us roaring, and studying with my brother Aaron... though I am most definitely not going to miss the countless hours of homework!!!!!!

So I guess this is tribute to my awesome Physics comrades, a whinin' about the test, and an appreciation of SUMMER BREAK YEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!

Just had to share this with my cyberhomies

2009-05-12T19:27:00.001-07:00

We pulled into a parked lot and I glanced at the passenger of the neighboring car, and gave a start in surprise. The fellow had such human like expressions, and he was sitting back in the chair just like a person would have, and he stared at us so solemnly, Aaron and I both cracked up laughing. I always have my camera wherever I go, so I snapped a quikpic.

Tribute to my favorite Aaron

2009-04-26T20:53:00.000-07:00

He's leaving...For a long time...So now's a good time...to say I'll miss him...before I forget...

a song...

2009-04-13T20:12:00.000-07:00

Ah, such memories

Click here

SURPRISE!!!!!

2009-04-03T13:49:00.000-07:00

I like to think of myself as being predictably unpredictable. It's a flattering thought so I think it a lot. Not. Ouch, that rhymes.

Today, I surprised myself by eating spaghetti for breakfast, and again at lunch. I also had an orange, and a sandwich that was half tuna fish and half PB&J. Nummy.

I like to surprise myself. It keeps me on my toes.

This morning, feeling very charitable towards myself, I snuck into my room, when myself wasn't looking, and I put away all the folded laundry that was sitting on myself's dresser. So later, when I walked into my room, I squealed with delight once I saw that my past self had cleared off my dresser for me! Now I didn't have to do it myself! Aaaww! How sweet!

So today, surprise yourself. Do something out of the ordinary. It's an exciting way to live.

Storyboarding time...oh boy!!

2009-03-23T20:27:00.000-07:00

Aaron and I are screenwriting a film right now! Some of your local actors will be featured! Stay tuned!

I got a kick out of this...be sure to read the whole thing...

2009-03-19T12:25:00.000-07:00

Victoria, Texas (pop. 55,000) is a town about 80 miles west of Houston .

Local Hispanic leaders there, in opposition to pending Immigration Legislation, boycotted all Caucasian owned businesses in the Victoria area this past weekend as a demonstration of their economic impact on the community. The boycott was declared a success by the Hispanic community, noting that revenue in Caucasian owned businesses was down by 19%.

Business owners declared the boycott a success as well, pointing out that shoplifting was reduced by 77%, money orders sent out of the country were down by 97%, and the cost of daily clean-up and trash collection was down by 84%. Shoppers reported that they could actually hear English being spoken throughout the community for the first time in recent memory, and customers actually paid for purchases with real money, not government debit cards.

James Christian

2009-03-16T12:50:00.000-07:00

Oooooooooooohh....

2009-03-09T18:49:00.000-07:00

I'm sore. So sore. I'm way out of shape.
What a weird phrase. It's not like I'm a hexagon or anything...
But that's beside the point.
I played frisbee yesterday, the first time this year. It was fantastic!
I'm always falling over, slipping, crashing, and fumbling. I got absolutely filthy, too.
I loved every moment.
But--I am sore.
A good sore, though.
In the course of one hour, it hailed, rained, snowed, was windy, and sunny. Did that stop us? Never.
We aren't your average lily-livered teenagers.
My team lost both games.
I didn't care.

How are you......really?

2009-03-04T20:54:00.000-08:00

Many of my acquaintances/friends in passing ask me, "How are you?" I have to confess, I don't even pause to think about it anymore and just spit out the monetary "Good." Sometimes I don't feel "good" at all, and am dying to tell someone about it, but know that they probably aren't expecting me to say anything other than "good". Or, I've just had an incredibly wonderful day, and I've just been blessed in so many ways, but somehow don't think it would be worth the telling...

When my older brother began courting a beautiful girl two years back, and spending lots of time with her family, he started picking up funny habits characteristic of the whole family. He would come home and say things to me like, "Hi Alexa! How are you?!" "Uuh, good." I would stutter, taken aback. "No, really," he would insist, "how aaare you? How do you feeeel?" I couldn't stand it at first, having a slight aversion to anything touchy-feely in the first place, but over time it occurred to me how often I'd ask that simple question, and didn't care less as to how it was answered.

What about you? Do you care?

Some people surprise me in how interested in me in general, they seem. I can't help but think, Wow, I wonder if they really care. They look like they actually want to know what I think, or how my day went! I also can't help but want to be more like that. Scripture tells us that we're supposed to consider others more highly than ourselves. Wow, I wish I could live like that. I wince recalling past awkward conversations when I've turned the conversation to me, and what happened to me the other day, and what my opinion about this and that is, merely because I couldn't think of anything else to say. *Sigh*

So I'm trying to change my ways. Help me out if you can. If I ever say "Hi, how are you?" mechanically, please take the time to shake me violently and holler at me. Or if you ask me that question and I give a bored "Good," firmly lecture me that that's poor grammar please restate the question with emphasis, to give me a second chance...

Let's all make the world a better place shall we?

A riddle

2009-02-12T15:17:00.000-08:00

Dragons have them
Paul shed them
Grocers use them
Musicians love them
Fat people hate them

What are they?

Pictures from the Tournament!!

2009-01-26T13:50:00.000-08:00

Dearest Readers: I have a confession to make. I am lazy. It is for this reason that I have loaded all my tournament pictures onto Facebook rather than Blogger. (It's much faster) You can hopefully view them through this link. Or this link. See if those will work for you.

Sincerely from the deep-down-dank-dark-depths of my heart,

Alexa Sleadd

P.S. Suppose I sum up my tournament experience: Well, the things I will remember forever and always were 1) saying a crass word in a debate round (accidentally), 2) blubbering in apologetics, 3) getting in big trouble for rip-sticking* on the sidewalk. True, there was more that happened, but that's what I'll never forget. Gulp.

*A ripstick is a pivoting scooter with no handlebars

graphite sketch

2009-01-08T16:17:00.000-08:00

The lovely Tessa Deems

I based the drawing on this picture. I say based, because yes, I took some liberties, and left out her braces (they're hard to draw and I'm lazy). I just realized that she isn't smiling as wide in the drawing...have fun comparing the two, it will train your eyes to recognize details and discrepancies, a good skill to have.

The juicy details

2009-01-07T19:53:00.000-08:00

Perhaps you've caught on, but I tend to find enjoyment in going into detail over my injuries/aliments. If that annoys you, just don't read any further. :)

Today, I went to the Periodontist for surgery. "Surgery" sounds like a scary word. Well...it is.
I have a terrible "recession" in my front bottom teeth, where the gums have basically disappeared, showing bare tooth all the way down. My gum is basically a lame bit of thin tissue stretched across the bone of my jaw, under my bottom two front teeth. Apparently it's because this stringy thing with a fancy name that I wouldn't remember that connects my gum to my lower lip is too short, so every time I talk, it pulls the gums down off my teeth. And I talk often. And a lot. Anyway, it's very serious. At least I think it is... So my orthodontist referred me to a gum specialist. So today I went in for surgery. First they swabbed me up with this wonderful tasting stuff on the area they were going to slice and dice; the recession area, and the left-side of the roof of my mouth, for numbing. Then they jabbed me with a needle twice in each area (boy did I feel it!) with stronger anesthesia. Oh, by the way, they told me to keep my eyes closed "It just helps you relax". They probably didn't want me to see the glinting, bloody, barbaric instruments they were cramming in my mouth. I obliged them. I was tempted to sneak a peek once in a while, just to check if I was spurting blood to later brag about, but I thought that would put me slightly on edge. I was trying to pull off the chipper-but-carefree-couldn't-care-less-that-my-mouth-was-being-pulverized look, so I refrained, for the sake of my reputation. Next the surgeon rattled off some numbers, code names for instruments I guess. He probably didn't want to say to his assistant "Pass me that fat scalpel there, make sure it's extra sharp! And how 'bout those icy-cold-steel scissors too, while you're at it." He said "Number 15 and 24. thank you" Boy, was I relieved. NOT. I felt the chilly metal against my lip, and I could hear the kshktch of him sawing through that stringy thing with a fancy name that I wouldn't remember that connects my gum to my lower lip. I could feel it too, in a dull disturbing way. You get the point. Next, the assistant crammed gauze under my lip, and told me to open wider. The surgeon then cut a chunk of flesh out of the left-side of the roof of my mouth. He stuffed more gauze in, and then started stitching the graft of flesh to the recession area. Then they packed a substance like chewing gum over the wounded areas, like a band-aid for the inside of your mouth. They took away my bloody drool bib and said "All done! That wasn't too bad, was it?" I gargled agreement, and attempted a sloppy grin. Then Dr. Weintraub (the surgeon) gave me a little bouquet of red flowers tied with ribbon and said "You were a wonderful patient!" My sloppy grin got wider. With that, he reminded me to eat lots of ice cream for the next few days "It's the best", and he left. The assistant then told me what not to eat, and gave me an ice pack "It will keep your face from ballooning with swelling". Thanks! I swallowed a painkiller pill, and dribbled water down my chin into my lap. And that was it! What fun! I'd do it all over again! Now I am moderately miserable since the Novocaine has worn off, but now I have a delicious story to tell of surviving surgery!!
If you want to send me a get well soon gift, I take both cash and credit. Ah, no. Catch you later...

Haddy-doo

2009-01-05T15:30:00.000-08:00

I'm afraid I'm too busy living life to post about it. But I'll try and catch up.

Lately I: competed in a "Round Robin" debate tournament, tried to go snow-tubing, had a family christmas gathering, had another family gathering in Roseburg, attended a wedding, went to a mystery murder party, and helped my dad build furniture for my room. Not necessarily in that order...

Boone is...contagious

Dad and I built a shadowbox for my grandpa of his WWII stuff

Here's me working on it.

On Christmas Eve, we tried to go on a snow-tubing trip with the Deems, Sleadds, and Johnsons, but the roads were blocked, so we drove all the way back and hung out at our place.

Our family got together two days before Christmas to open presents. We are kind of untraditional. This is my adorable nephew Boone. He is starting to talk. He gets very solemn in front of the camera...

Murder Mystery Party!! Christina was the murderer, Collin got murdered...Alex had the most awesomest costume ever!!
And believe me, I know costumes (a little at least).Here Dad is building shelves and cabinetry for my room. My room constantly degenerates into chaos, due to my penchant for craftiness, and my lack of organization, so Dad helped me out with the organization part. The shelves are beautiful (hehe, Dad designed them with my input) and they are probably some of the most valuable Christmas gifts I have ever gotten. I am truly blessed. Perhaps I will post a picture of them once I organize all my craft stuff into them...

Of recent times...

2008-12-10T13:47:00.000-08:00

Jamming at our new church facility

A tea party

Our physics class washing dishes. (No, this is not an experiment) :)

Don't pass out, now....

2008-12-09T08:11:00.000-08:00

...I've started another blog. It will probably be ignored but I figured I might notify the general public concerning its humble existence...

http://mythoughtscompiled.blogspot.com

"Further Up and Further In" is what I've called it. In C.S. Lewis' The Last Battle from The Chronicles of Narnia, all the characters are killed in a train wreck and instantly find themselves in Narnia, this time to stay. It's an allegory of Heaven, in that Aslan shouts "Further up and further in!" There is no end to discovery, joy, and exploration in Aslan's country. You could travel it a thousand years and still have more to learn. So I thought I'd name my blog after that. We are forever seeking, forever pursuing the person of God, yet know matter how far we've come, how much we've learned, we are called to strive "Further up and further in!"

Enjoy.

One of my (currently) favorite songs

2008-11-21T16:40:00.001-08:00

Click here

Family Album

2008-11-19T17:56:00.001-08:00

Coffee grounds are good for the digestion and general posterity.

I suppose it would be useful to mention that this is (was?) me.

Me and Nathan

I think sometime between when this picture was taken, and now, I shed a chin, because last time I checked, I've only got one...

Caleb and me on one of our daring adventures. In this case we went to Denmark by way of our backyard.

I am a six year old in this picture.

Caleb

I'd admit, it took us awhile to grow out of imaginative adventure thing. At the time, I thought the pillow in the shirt was a nice touch.

I've got these pictures and more on FB.

Resolved

2008-11-03T15:50:00.000-08:00

I drew this during my art hour. Don't feel bad if you don't get it... :)

November First--a few musings

2008-11-01T16:33:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning to the melodious sound of my mother shrieking "White Rabbit!!". This tradition always occurs on the first of the month, so while I groaned into my pillow, I was inwardly perplexed at how I'd let the month of October slip away without my noticing. "November?! Already?!!" My mother eventually discontinued her morning serenade, and wandered off to start some laundry in the other end of the house. I heard the "leedle-leedle" of the phone in the other room. The answering machine played the following chaotic message: "White Rabbit!!" I was in no hurry to tumble out of my soft, warm bed to answer it. When I did come out, I was greeted by the soft pitter-patter of rain outside. We had hoped to rake leaves and mow the lawn today, but the weather protested, so my siblings and I spent the day doing indoor chores. I love autumn. Yesterday, I let Halloween pass me by without eating even a single piece of candy. I can't think of a worse holiday than Halloween, so why did they schedule it during one of the loveliest times of the year? Last night I curled up in a blanket and watched Lord of the Rings while my family went to a football game. Sigh. Right now the drizzle outside has called it quits, and a fire is crackling in the wood stove. I lit a Gold Canyon candle on the little booktable in our living room, and the enchanting scent of cinnamon and apples is permeating the room. Sigh. I love autumn. Thanksgiving is not quite here, but I'm overflowing with thanksgiving nonetheless. My brother is married, my sister is pregnant, my church is awesome, our family has so many wonderful friends! My house is warm, I've pretty much recovered from my cold, the list goes on and on. I'm so blessed.

Don't forget to give thanks!!

A few wedding pictures

2008-10-30T08:30:00.000-07:00

Coast Trip!!!!

2008-10-13T18:12:00.000-07:00

At the Theaters

2008-10-08T17:32:00.000-07:00

Who might this lovely young lady be?

2008-10-02T22:27:00.000-07:00

I used the grid system to get the proportions right. I've never done it before, 'til my friend Destiny told me how.

The Twelth Night by William Shakespeare. Presented by "Bride and Bridesmaids Theater Troupe" at your local Barnes&Nobles bookstore.

2008-10-01T18:54:00.000-07:00

Our story begins with a lovestruck Duke named Orsino, who is madly in love with his neighbor, Countess Olivia. But she refuses him 'cause her brother died recently, and she's so depressed she has no room in her broken heart for love. Or so she thinks...

Meanwhile during a shipwreck, two identical twins, Sebastian and Viola, both think each other have drowned. But Captain Antonia saves Sebastian...

and random person turbaned person rescues Viola.
Viola: NoOOOO!!!!!

Random Person: Try this. Looking like a guy will help you get a job.

Viola: Fits perfect!

Sure enough, Viola gets a job. Except her name is now Cesario. Duke Orsino pays her to deliver his love letters to the stubborn Olivia.

Viola: "Ack. She's staring at me! She must suspect I'm a girl!"

Olivia: Aww! He's so incredibly handsome!! Unlike that bumbling Duke Orsina!

Viola:"Why is she looking at me all weird?"

Meanwhile, Viola is falling desperately in love with the distracted Orsino
Viola: Aw! He's so incredibly handsome!

Viola: Sigh! I love Orsino. He's so swell!
Olivia: Sigh! I love Cesario. He's dashing!
(Here's a new guy, here)
Sir Andrew Aguecheek: Sigh! I love Olivia! She is positively gorgeous!

But let's not forget Sebastian!

Sebastian: "Thanks for rescuing me before I drowned, Capn' Antonio."
Captain Antonio: "Sure thing, Sebastian. Sorry to hear your twin sister drowned. Here's a dumb hat, I hear they're all the rage."

Sebastion: "Thanks, Cap'n! Later, dude!"

Sir Andrew Anguecheek runs into Sebastian, mistaking him for his identical twin Viola, except that Andrew thinks she's a guy named Cesario. It's all very confusing really.
Sir Andrew Anguecheek: "Hey you! You're the one Olivia is googoo eyes over! Loser! I hate you!"
Sebastian: "Oh yeah?!"

"Stoooppp!!!"

(Countess Olivia interevenes)

Olivia: "There you are, Cesario, my honey Dumpling Sweetey Sugar-pie!"

Olivia: "I love you, we must get married!"
Sebastian:"Sure, whatever!"

Creepy Minister: "Mawiage. A dweam wiffin a dweam. It's what bwings us aw togevuh."

Sir Andrew What's-his-name: "Aargh! Darn it, my crush is crushed!"

He goes crazy, so he's tugged away to the insane asylum

Meanwhile:
"Hey, hubby! The wedding went splendidly, don't you think?"
"Pshaw! Is this some kind of joke?"
"Don't be silly! I sure love the ring you got me, I love how it sparkles."

Orsino rushes in and proposes.

Olivia: "Sorry! I'm already married to this hunk!"
Viola/Cesario: "WHAATT!"

Orsino: "You married my true love?!!"

Viola: "Look! I have nothing to do with this!!"

Orsino: "Dummy! What'd you go off and marry him for?"
Olivia: "Don't call me dummy, dummy!"

But then Sebastian pops in.
Orino and Olivia: "Wait a minute!!!!"

Sebastian and Viola: "No Way!! You're not dead!!"

Happy reunions

Orsino and Viola get married. And Sebastian and Olivia, as newlyweds, get along splendidly...

The end

You're invited!!

2008-09-22T15:40:00.000-07:00

Physics

2008-09-17T20:18:00.000-07:00

Experiment: objects fall at the same rate, regardless of weight. The book cancels all air resistance, causing the paper wad and sheet on top to fall just as fast.

Bug-eyed awe. (Where I come from, book-dropping is discouraged.)

Wumph. Guess Newton was right after all...

Mrs. Deems gives it a try

Sorry Similes from Highschool Students

2008-09-03T17:52:00.000-07:00

"John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds, who had also have never met."

- Russell Beland, Springfield

"He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree"

-Jack Bross, Chevy Chase

"Her eyes were like two brown circles, with big block dots in the center."

-Russell Beland, Springfield

"His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling-Free."

-Chuck Smith, Woodbridge

"She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs."

- Jonathan Paul, Garrett Park

"He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a land mine or something..."

-John Kammer, Herndon

"It came down the stairs looking very much like something no one had ever seen before."

-Marian Carlsson, Lexington

a fun-filled day

2008-08-24T19:55:00.000-07:00

Actors, off duty

Schoolmarm; dignified, perplexed at distraught schoolchildren

"There! It's a lion!"

"Run for your lives!!"

"Thank goodness, the police have arrived."

Investigating the crime scene

Oomf!

"No, really, it was here!" "Preposterous!"

"I don't see one anywhere!"

"This lady is a loon. We shall make a formal inquiry."

science experiment

2008-08-19T21:16:00.000-07:00

This morning I woke up sick. I think I got it from either Mary Owen, or the Deems. I did type up a whole narrative about how my throat feels about all this, but my mom protested when she saw I intended on posting it. So much for literary license!! She went on to say the world doesn't really want to know about my glorious injuries, and my grievous throat issues. She didn't exactly put it that way, but that's how I see it. So, I'll have to be content to share with my readers about I've done about my health grievances. Enter: Science Experiment!!

Hypothesis: What will it feel like if I sequentially gargle three disgusting substances that supposedly will help improve my desperate situation?

Method: I sequentially gargled the three following disgusting substances:
1. Hydrogen Peroxide 2. White wine vinegar 3. Warm salt-water solution

My following responses were thus:
1. AAAAAAGGGHHH 2. BLEECCCKKK 3. ew

1. Felt like I had a rapid growing fuzz conquesting my mouth; it had a combination of horrible taste, aggravating fizzing, and it left my teeth feeling like Styrofoam.

2. (This was the worst) It BURRNED!!! Felt like I was gargling acid.

3. This was mildly gross, so I took several swigs, to rinse out the bad tastes of 1. and 2.

Conclusion: Well how 'bout that? Now I know what it feels like.