Update

Some things have happened. As a result, I've been entirely uninspired to write a thing since my last post. Nothing major, in the "Grand Scheme," but I'm nonetheless finding even this sentence extremely difficult to piece together. Anyway, I've experienced a shift in the past couple days. I've been struck by a faint glimmer of inspiration, and with that I give you the following updates. I'll start with the uninspiring, and finish with the inspiring.

1) The Story Tent: After visiting Occupy Olympia in the first week of its existence, the idea occurred to me to pitch a tent. I intended to set up my camera inside and give those involved in Occupy Oly time to tell their stories. The plan was to archive the stories on this blog. I posted an ad on craigslist listing my tent needs, and sure enough a tent to my exact specifications was donated. Long story short, the timing was wrong. The tent remained in the back of my car until I donated to Occupy Oly's supply tent where I hoped it would be put to good use.

2) Oly Acts @ Mud Bay: Since the first conversation from which Oly Acts was born, we envisioned a venue through which we could serve our community and spread some love. Of all the ideas we discussed, this one caused the most excitement. Recently, it's taken an abruptly plausible turn. We've got approval to use Mud Bay after close. Jeremiah and I bought a PA system. All that's left (figuratively speaking) is booking. To this end, I (along with everyone else involved in Oly Acts who takes interest) intend to begin show-going downtown and getting to know the local musicians. I'll also be creating a booking page for the blog, which will allow musicians to contact us to book shows.

That's all for now folks.
Kaylani

The Year Long Scat

"So what do you call that," I asked Kendal Calquhoun. "A hat-scarf, a harf, a scaharfat, what?"

Kendal shrugged. "A scat I guess."

"Why aren't you wearing it right now?" I asked him.

From behind the counter at Mud Bay Coffee, between drink orders, Kendal patiently answered, "It's ultra warm, it's really heavy and just bulky. It's hard to be doing things while you're wearing it. It's more of a sitting in the cold type of hat."

Kendal knitting his hat at Moon Base about a few
days before completing the project.
photo by: Kaylani, Oct 26, 2011

In October last year, under the instruction of our community's knitting guru Claire, Kendal learned how to knit. His first effort, a small gray test-swatch, is still attached to his key chain as a token of remembrance. After that, he began his hat. One year and nine skeins of yarn later, it is finished. "I wanted a wizard's hat. I wanted it to be a little over the top," says Kendal. "I knew it was done when it was dragging on the ground. It had taken so long I was ready to be finished. I just wanted to wear it."

The red and grey portions of Kendal's hat are knit with an alpaca and wool blend. The green at the end was knit with extremely soft baby alpaca. His yarns were purchased at Canvas Works downtown. "If you're gonna start knitting one, you'd better know your a patient person," Kendal recommends. "I knew I'd be able to finish it... I had an idea how long it would take, I didn't think it would be an entire year."

As a friend of Kendal's, I can confirm the patience he speaks of. I can't say I've encountered more patience in my life. But the man is not a machine. There were times during the project where boredom set in. "I got to the point where I had to take a break. There was a couple of times where I just didn't knit it for like a month." Learning new techniques helped keep the project interesting, though. "There was a lot of experimenting with knit patterns and ways of knitting where I took my rights as the person making it to go ahead and try."

Kendal learned from his experiments, though they didn't always go as planned. "In one of my experiments doing different knit patterns I ended up adding 40-plus stitches," He says. "After I screwed that part up I probably spent a good four hours fixing it."

Kendal also kept busy while he knit, exercising his multitasking muscles. "I listened to music, watched movies, rode in cars, came to Bible Study, sat by the fireplace [at Mud Bay]." When the hat was long enough to wear while knitting, he took full licence to knit wherever he wanted. "I walked around downtown, went to the Co-op, antique shopping."

During his walks downtown, he encountered a couple very curious folks. "I'd have the tail end and yarn in my bag and the part I was working on out in front of me," he explains. "People who didn't necessarily look like they understood I was knitting, but saw I had seven sticks in front of me, would come up like 'Whoa! What are you doing?'"

Next on Kendal's knitting agenda? Mittens. With a twist, of course. "I want the sleeves to be long, long," he says. With one hand outstretched as though a mitten coveres it, he draws his other hand up his arm and out past his head to demonstrate. "I'll have to fold them over my arm in order to wear them."

Occupy Olympia's Tent Community

I've been following stories about the occupy movement, from Wall Street to Oakland to Olympia and everywhere in between. The news coverage, from what I've seen, has been negative. This is likely due in part to the fact that media networks need newsworthy stories. Peace isn't exactly a headline topic. Police brutality, on the other hand, sure grabs viewer attention.

Several weeks ago, Jeremiah and I found ourselves bored and curious. So we headed down to Occupy Olympia with our video camera to ask questions and get informed. I highly recommend that anyone near enough to any occupation makes an effort to do the same (no video camera necessary). We found that the majority of folks we spoke with were well educated, well informed, and well intentioned. We sensed nothing but a deep sense of love and community from Olympia's tent city, and our hopes were lifted for the people involved in the movement.

After multiple conversations, I began to realize that the mass media's portrayal of the movement and the people had given me an inaccurate sense of the cause. At least in the case of Occupy Olympia, which I feel is different from other occupations in some beautiful ways. What struck me is that it's not really a protest, but a demonstration. A protest, to me, just says "you've got it wrong, fix it." Occupy Olympia is saying, "You've got it wrong. Let us show you how to fix it and let us be involved in the process." They've got a community medicine tent, food tent, and supply tent. No one's really in charge and everyone is invited to get involved. It's a demonstration of real democracy (despite the anarchy misconception), where individual voices are heard and community thrives because of it.

We used every interview (except one which we didn't hit record for) we conducted in our video. Due to technical difficulties, more than half our original footage was lost and we were limited to the first five minutes of each interview. We did our best to never misrepresent the occupation or the people involved. Though I am clearly in favor of Occupy Olympia, I made every effort to ensure the video is unbiased and un-manipulated. Regardless, I perceive a positive lean when I watch it. I assure you, had we any negative footage to include we'd have done so. Our desire was to get informed and share information, not to promote the cause.

Give us your feedback, share your thoughts, ask your questions. We're into that sort of thing.

In Solidarity,

Kaylani

Hello. My name is Jeremiah. I have the pleasure of being married to Kaylani. So as you can imagine it is very hard to fall away from things that matter to her because of who she is. She lives love and God through Jesus, so anything that will further the Kingdom she brings into her life.... Since i am a part of her life we bleed into eachother. It was only a matter of time before I had a word to say on this blog.... So that having been said here is my blog post...

I have never told God to "f" off until these past few weeks... Now I can't fight with something that doesn't exist. I have my faith firmly rooted in God through the Christ Jesus. The beginning of this fight started brewing over the past few months... I got carried away and attempted to step into what i thought God had in store for me. Well easily said nothing came of it other then a frustrated Jeremiah. I found myself Broken during a midnight walk after Kay planted some very truthful things in my heart that my ears did not want to hear.... but my heart did. I went a purchased my old cigarettes that (i wasted alot of time consuming back in the day) gave me a reason to walk..... so i could get the smell off before i got back home.

I found myself in the Oly Westfield mall parking lot crying... No one was there save maybe a homeless person or two. I was shouting "PREPARE ME! GIVE ME A SUFFERER'S HEART! I HATE THE HABITS I HAVE CREATED FOR MYSELF! MUSIC IS NO LONGER MY PASSION! YOU ARE! STRIP EVERYTHING I DONT NEED AWAY FROM ME. LEAVE ME BARREN AND RAIN DOWN ON MY DRY SPRIRT!"

Needless to say i was so angry that I was fed up. Fed upi with not being satisfied with life so I turned to the one thing that gave me comfort. If other people can get joy and comfort from the creator why can't i? I thought.... So i started fasting my guitar... Now when i moved here i had plans of playing music.... with OTHER musicians... well up until this point no one wanted to get together to play other then Esa who is a close friend and he and i have never had the chance or the place. So by the end of the week a drummer popped up and so did a bass player and we had plans to play together at the end of the following week. A week of fasting guitar after having to no one to play with for months led to musicians to play with. "Thank you Lord!" So among all of this i still found myself still fighting with God. "Why can't I hear you?"

Kaylani by this time had developed a cough. She still has this cough... So if you know me then you might understand my frustration. I come from a ministry of healing and extreme faith. So everyday i would lay my hands on Kay and declare her healing in Christ. And her coughing has continued... It escalated a few nights ago when she broke into a coughing fit and in the middle i found myself screaming "IF YOU EXIST GOD THEN YOU, RIGHT NOW, TAKE THIS INFECTION AND COUGH AWAY FROM KAYLANI...." it was followed by a harsher cough fit. I have not lost faith in the creator.... I am just pissed at him right now. Whatever walls or barriers i have put up for myself to "block" God's voice do not matter. My God, the one i believe in, has no problem hitting you in the face and showing you his true self.... then where is mine? Why is my God not getting through to me? God told Kay when she decided to not use doctors or medicine that she was going to be tested. a year almost to the date she finds herself sick.... SO she is being tested cool whatever... I guess I don't fit into that equation... That angers me.

So I am writing this, not to make a point, not to denounce God.... If you are fighting with God... if you are struggling to hear His voice or to spend time with him even fighting with yourself on whether or not a "creator" exists.... Then you are not alone. You have people to talk about this with. You still have your eyeballs, ten fingers and toes. Remember that this place is not our home and we are just passing through. Even in my despair with God, I can't help but sing his praises and see him in people or in actions.... but that doesn't mean I am not fighting with him.

For added encouragement i have attached a video of a man named Dan Smith and his project Listener. If you find yourself pissed or angry or whatever... watch this video to cheer you up.

Update

Hey friends
Posting will be a bit sparse for another week or so. It's not that I don't have any stories to share; trust me the story supply is overflowing. A project is in the works however, and it's proving rather time consuming. I'm very excited about it though, and I can't wait to share. Let me give you a little preview.

I went down to Occupy Olympia for the first time two Tuesdays ago with Jeremiah. We took our video camera and spent a couple hours asking people why they were there and how long they planned on staying. There's been, in my opinion, an intense lack of media coverage of the occupation. So, we are working on a video to share the conversations we had.

Last Tuesday I went back to Occupy with my camera to check in on things. The movement had grown from 20 or so tents to around 100. I spent another few hours getting to know the folks involved, gathering information about the medical and food tents, and sitting in on a general assembly meeting. It was a thoroughly exciting and hope-building experience. I'll be creating a video to share once the first video is finished.

The idea occurred to me, after a dozen or so heart-to-hearts with Oly occupiers, that people have stories. These stories are the driving force behind the occupy movement. They give beautiful insight into the reasons for the movement, and the direction participants hope to see it take. So I posted an ad on craigslist looking for a canopy tent (http://seattle.craigslist.org/oly/wan/2674549186.html) in order to erect what will be called the Story Tent. I hope to set up my camera and give people 10 minutes to share their story. The stories will be archived on this blog as they are gathered. We got a response to the ad just today, so things are looking good!

This is the first sign I've painted to
hang on the Story Tent. 

Stay tuned for the upcoming videos and updates on the Story Tent.

Blessings
Kaylani

This is Worship Part 2

David on drums, Josh on vox standing on drums, and
Wolf on bass, at El Corazon.
photo by Kaylin Roback, October 2010

When you live in a world that caters to and fosters self image, self improvement, self gain, self expression, self loathing, self indulgence, and self preservation, it's not often you run across a group of people completely disenchanted with their "selfs".The Chariot is such a group.As I mentioned in This is Worship Part 1 (http://olyacts.blogspot.com/2011/10/this-is-worship-part-i.html), there are two reasons I'm especially fond of The Chariot. The first, as previously described, was their huge capacity to worship God no matter where they are or who they're with. The second, is this: they're genuine.

A fanged skull is a prominent symbol on much of the band's merch. It seems like a dark image for a band who's message is so filled with light. Jeremiah and I discussed the possible meanings of the skull for months before realizing we could simply go to the source for an answer.

He sent Stephen (pictured below), a facebook message with our question, and a day or two later received a response. The skull, as Stephen explained, represents death to self and living fulfilled through Christ. Wow. "Duh!" we both said. Death to self. This is profound humility. This is finding God, the infinite source of love, realizing His love is greater than anything you could hope to do or be, and surrendering your life to Him.

Every encounter I've had with members of The Chariot thus far has convinced me that Stephen wasn't relaying empty words, but words the band lives by.They've found that living instead of preaching their beliefs works better for them. Their lives reflect their hearts, and their music gives their hearts a voice.

Before the first show we ever saw them perform was at El Corazon about a year ago. Jeremiah wrote the band a letter and gave it to Stephen outside the venue. He told them about the impact their music had on him, explained exactly what he felt their music was about, and encouraged them to keep letting God guide them so awesomely. At the end of it, he wrote down his phone number and said "If you ever need encouragement, give me a call." This was before we'd ever talked or prayed with them, and I remember Jeremiah being slightly nervous that they'd read it and laugh; that he completely misinterpreted them and they were just another thrash band with nothing to say.

Guitarist Stephen Harrison at El Corazon during
our first The Chariot experience.
photo by: Kaylin Roback, October 2010  

After the first and second shows we saw at El Corazon, we had awesome conversations and prayer sessions with the guys in The Chariot. Hoping the same would happen this time, we took off outside after the band's set where we knew they'd be loading their equipment (Yes. We did happen to see them unloading before the show. And yes. We took note.).We helped them load up and chatted for several minutes until it started raining, at which point Josh, the band's vocalist, suggested as many as possible squeeze into the equipment trailer to stay dry. More than just our group had joined in the conversation at this point, and by the time a prayer was suggested there were probably twenty people huddled together.

We closed the prayer and continued to chat until Josh asked about good, cheap food nearby. Kaylin and I were cold and assumed the band was getting ready to roll out, so we sent them off with hugs and went back inside. During this time, Jeremiah got to talk to Wolf, the band's bassist, and Stephen, who plays guitar. "That name!" Wolf said. His hands pressed flat to his forehead as the realization formed in him. "You said it before and I knew it was familiar. You're the guy who gave us the note! Is that still in the van?" he asked Stephen.

"If it's not in the van, it's in my room," Stephen said. "I sent a text to that number but I never got a response." Jeremiah's hands slammed to his forehead as it was his turn for a realization to strike. He explained that he's gone extended periods with a missing phone, had at least one phone replaced, and recently changed his number.

Bassist Wolf (AKA Jon Kindler) at El Corazon.
photo by Kaylin Roback, October 2010

Jeremiah hung around until Stephen and Wolf were ready to go eat. They began walking and Jeremiah started to say goodbye. "Wait," Stephen said. "Aren't you coming?" They waited while Jeremiah grabbed me and anyone else willing to miss Comeback Kid to tag along, and we set off for a Mexican restaurant up the road. Josh and Wolf spent over an hour eating and chatting with us. We bombarded them with our curiosity and they answered with earnest patience. I left after 40 minutes or so to make sure our friends could find us if the show ended. Jeremiah and his friends Jared, James, Brian, and a few others stayed behind. The conversation continued for at least another 40 minutes.

When your motivation and focus moves beyond yourself, you can begin to live and create without the restrictions of pride. That's what The Chariot has done, both individually and collectively. They've embraced humility in its truest form. I don't mean blindly catering to the will of others, as I often see humility attempted. Rather, recognizing the limitations of self and relying on God for fulfillment. I'm convinced you can tell whether a person or group is genuinely humble, genuinely living according to their faith, two ways. Both by the imprint they leave in the lives of others, and the imprint they allow others to leave in their lives.

Stephen making creative use of
his guitar at Neumos.

photos by Kaylin Roback, Sept 26

Jeremiah's letter is a singular though not isolated example of the latter. During the time the guys spent in conversation after I left the Mexican restaurant, an example of the former was brought to light. Jared came with us the first time we saw The Chariot. Before the show started, we prayed with Wolf in the crowd. After the show, we prayed with the vocalist, Josh. Jared, a "non-believer" (for lack of a better descriptor) at the time, joined us to pray each time. After it was all over, he, Jeremiah, and Brian drove back to Wenatchee where they then lived. On their way, Jared asked "Do you guys know what you're going to say before you pray?" Brian and Jeremiah said no, and explained how they go about talking to God. "Cool," Jared replied. "Mind if I try?"

Josh screams "My brain is fixed!" from the song "The City"
At Neumos.
photo by: Kaylin Roback, Sept 26

While eating with Stephen and Wolf, Jared had a chance to tell them about his past experience with church. He explained why he'd stopped attending and basically gave up on Christianity because his encounters with Christians had been overall very negative. He shared how the first show we went to changed his perspective, and how he prayed in the car  afterward. In return, Wolf offered Jared his testimony which, according to Jeremiah, was the mirror image of Jared's.

Stay tuned for Part 3, which will wrap things up. After expanding on things, that is.

This is Worship Part 1 & 3/4

What we have here my friends, is a compilation of photographs taken by Kaylin during The Chariot's set at Neumos on Sept 26. My previous post, "This Is Worship Part 1," is my initial attempt to share the experience on this blog. I will complete my attempt in a post that will be added soon(ish). Until then, it's my sincere hope that your ravenous appetites will be sated with this eye snack. 

*Note: Clicking the image will open it on a new screen at its original, legible size.

freaking flying cows coonman !!

ok so my whol life iv always wanted to be like my dad hav a famely be a hard worker own land buld a home the works of awsumness..... so as far as bulding a home iv always wated to own land out neer wher i grew up and buld a underground home, but last year i wus kinda dicuriged becus i couldent finde enybody or eny info on pepole who constructed or knew how to go about that sort of thing, i mean sher my famely is prity much construction all around but as far as bulding underground dwelling that takes a bit more then foundation and frameing ... so i kinda figured that dream would never come to pass ... but tday wile i wus at work i found out that one of the regulers that i serv almost evry shift fasilitates those tipes of progects i wus so excited that i intently just had to start asking her qweschens and all about it i got so cot up it it that i compleatly didnt even realize somone had come to the drive thru window untell Josh came in from taken out the trash sayen "did you know ther is somone in the drive thu" i then kinda triped over a few things as i walked backword to the drive thu still trying to hav a conversation but work wus calling so i figurd ill hav more chances to haras her about the subject later... longish rant short - dream reopend

This Is Worship Part I

Last Monday my friends, Kaylin, Jeremiah (a.k.a. my husband), Josiah, Zac and I drove to Seattle to see one of my personal favorite bands The Chariot. The band played at Neumos on Capitol Hill along with Comeback Kid, This Is Hell, and Underoath (the "headliner").

Before the show, we walked to the Elysian Brewing Company just up the road to meet up with several folks Jeremiah and I know from Wenatchee. This was the third time we've seen The Chariot in Seattle. The first time, our group consisted of five people. We had such an epic time, we told our friends about it. Constantly. The second time, we went with about nine friends. That show might actually have been more epic than the first and we, along with everyone we went with, have been telling anyone with ears about it ever since. This time our crew grew to twelve, most of whom have never listened to The Chariot but since we "won't shut up about them," figured they were worth a three hour drive to witness.

"This is worship form the
bottom of our hearts," says
Wolf at Neumos, Sept 26.

There are two reasons The Chariot holds a special place in my heart. The first is this: they worship their freakin' socks off. Not a single word, movement, or sound is produced for themselves. At the beginning of the posted video (see below), Wolf steps up to the mic. "Don't be confused about what this is," he says. "This is worship from the bottom of our hearts." Whether the people watching or the other bands playing are going to worship with them doesn't deter them from expressing themselves to God with every fiber of their being.

We saw them play twice at El Corazon. The second time, a band called Vanna went on just before them and, in an effort to stir up the moshing, explained that they had an album drop that day. "This is our night!" their vocalist yelled, and basically instructed the audience to start throwing fists. When The Chariot was set to play, their vocalist Josh screamed a different message to the crowd. "This is your night. This is your stage. This is your mic," he said. And then the music dropped. And the pit thrashed unlike it had all night.

A crowd surfer finds himself onstage holding up a
 drum for the crowd to beat during The Chariot's set.
photo by: Kaylin Roback, Sept 26

They've expressed this message before every show we've seen, making sure from the start that they aren't leading the audience to worship the band. Josh frequently throws the mic into the crowd to back his statement up. The bassist, Wolf, does the same with his bass, even refusing to take it back when someone too afraid to strum noise tries to return it. David's drums frequently end up in audience possession as the picture above illustrates, and the band thrives on pulling people onto the stage despite (or perhaps because of) the damage their flailing limbs might cause to instruments or sound equipment. Their instruments aren't confined to the stage, and neither is the band. They crowd surf more than the crowd does. At Neumos, Stephen climbed up a support beam with his guitar to rock out with the people on the balcony. Since I happened to be up on said balcony, moping because I didn't have proper foot-wear for the mosh pit, I was overjoyed to watch him climb. Overjoyed and little freaked out, really. He climbed a solid 15' pole for Heaven's sake. I have no idea how he got back down without breaking something. I feel ridiculous even trying to describe it.

Despite the excess of space at Neumos,
Kaylin and Jeremiah get squished in the
crowd during The Chariot.
photo by: Kaylin Roback, Sept 26

The thrashing and moshing at Neumos was nothing compared to what we've experienced at El Corazon; Too much space for the crowd that was gathered. The acoustics were great, though. Even the video I took on my phone has semi-decent and distinguishable sound, which is rare at concerts such as these. That video, by the way, was a stroke of either luck or divinity (hint: I don't believe in luck). It happens to start just as Josh is announcing they'll be playing the song I'd been looking forward to all night, "The City." The lyrics to this song
strike me as profoundly relevant in light of recent public demonstrations, e.g. Occupy Wall Street and the subsequent Occupy _______ in solidarity with Wall Street's occupiers. On the whole, the songs speaks to me of a love revolution that can't be stopped by any force because it's backed by God. (I'm not saying the Wall Street protests are/aren't in line with the song's message. Rather, the song speaks to those who seek change and desire truth during a time when, as said protests demonstrate, both are being stifled.) The song as a whole gives me chills, but here's a sample of lyrics I can't get over:

Enough is enough, because we cannot be late

Basically you've been defined as unworthy of love

And I confess that I had placed in my heart the same address

But i paint with my words

"You're free, don't fear, this is only a revolt"

The video continues through the last two songs of the band's set. I got a little excited a few times and forgot I was videoing, but if you watch past that, you'll see them begin tearing down and removing equipment from stage while still playing and worshiping. 

Due to sound quality and, let's be real, the genre of music itself, it's quite possible you're having a hard time deciphering the lyrics. For full lyrics of "The City" along with any other song you want, I'll send you here:  http://www.songlyrics.com/the-chariot/the-city-lyrics/

This post got too long. Way too many stories that I'm too stoked about to cut out. So, for the sake of my readers' patience, I've decided to divide the post into two parts. The next will be posted in a few days. Or perhaps sooner, Part 2 makes me pretty happy.

Announcements for your reading Pleasure

• New prayer requests, check out the Water: Questions for God, page.
• New page, Light: Answers From God, just created. Keep a look out for updates.  
• Check out Seeds to find out what's going on. Cuz boy do we have it goin' on. 

Communion Unconfined

Handpicked blueberries and Nectarines
given to Miah and Kaylani for their
wedding top a tostada made by
Claire for Sunday dessert.
(9/4/11)

I've been pondering thoughts inspired by a post Kendal wrote a while back called "sunday times." The post described a dinner he prepared for our family at The Keep. "I find this act of us eating together a core thing that has brought us all together," Kendal writes. "I understand what communion is and that it is something Jesus told us to do often, but in all honesty the act of communally eating a meal with others is so much more spiritually filling than eating a piece of pre-cut bread dipped in some nasty grape juice..."

Communion is a fellowship experience; a celebration of Jesus' life, and the restoration of Humanity's relationship with God that his death accomplished. 


Communion is not a ceremony.


The following images depict communion experiences I've had with my family.

Josiah helps prepare a soft taco
extravaganza for Sunday dinner
at The Keep. (8/21/11) 

Kendal prepares his hookah to share
as an after-dinner continuation of
 our communion gathering.
(8/21/11) 

The crew shares hookah and Star Trek together
at The Keep while digesting dinner. (8/21/11)

Claire concocts a tostada (see above
image) topped with figs and sweet
chevre cream to share with
 friends. (9/4/11)

Family, meet family. Communion gathering at Vic's Pizzeria
 following Kaylani and Miah's wedding rehearsal. (8/27/11)
photo by: Teresa McLain

After-wedding celebration/fellowship/grub at Mud Bay Coffee.
(8/21/11)
photo by: Teresa McLain 

Evidence Of Angels (at least, if you ask me)

Josiah at The Keep, post accident.
Apologies if this ruins any suspense.
Photo by: David McLain 

Last Saturday etched itself into my history book for a few reasons. Some reading this might notice it was the day before my wedding. Others may recall this was also the day Hurricane Irene hit the East coast. Neither of these, significant though they may be, impacted my memory like the experience my dear friend Josiah had.

That morning, Claired and Josiah opened the coffee shop. As they were preparing the shop for the day, they realized a few crucial supplies were missing. On weekends the shop operates sans manager, so Josiah offered to drive to Cash & Carry to remedy the situation. "Don't speed," Claire made sure she told him.

Maybe an hour after Josiah left, an ambulance showed up at the shop. Paramedics stepped out, and Claire's heart raced as they walked toward her. "Are you the only one working today?" they asked. "I'm afraid Josiah won't be making it back in."  After she was assured Josiah was alive and OK, and her initial panic subsided, she began calling the list of Mud Bay employees to find someone to cover his shift. After initially ignoring her phone call, that person happened to be me. Jeremiah dropped me off, called Josiah's dad and left straight for the hospital.

In between pulling shots and steaming milk, Claire relayed to me the details of the incident. Just minutes after leaving the shop, Josiah flipped his 4Runner merging onto I5 from Highway 101. He may or may not have been speeding, but he did wind up with a ticket for "Speeds too fast for Conditions." Regardless, he found himself upside down on the side of the highway in a totaled SUV.

Here's where the story gets me grinning. The first to arrive on the scene was a pair of bicyclists. Bicyclists who were also off duty EMTs. "I was upside down," Josiah recalls. "The next thing I realize, they are reaching their arms in, checking me out, and pulling me out the window."

A volunteer firefighter happened to be driving by, and was next on the scene. He held Josiah's head in his lap and asked him concussion questions while they waited for an ambulance to arrive. Next on the scene was yet another off duty EMT, who took more vitals and did more EMT-like procedures.

By the time Jeremiah arrived at the hospital, fully prepared to sit at Josiah's bedside and read him tabloids as long as necessary, Josiah was up and walking. His parents dropped him off at the coffee shop a couple hours later looking banged up, but confident he'd be at work the next day. (The rest of us were not nearly as confident, and so he was written off the schedule for the next day or two. Must admire the boy's spunk, though.)

Josiah sustained some solid bruising on the side of his face, a concussion, and his ear turned an odd shade of blue-ish purple. His mother informed us that he's always wanted a black eye, so wish granted so to speak. The way I see it, God's got his back and it's a good thing.

Brain Art

Josiah and I shared a morning shift at Mud Bay yesterday. It was a slow and steady day, not much excitement as far as coffee goes (I simultaneously hope for and dread an overwhelming, adrenaline pumping rush of people. One that requires ground espresso war-painted on my cheeks and leaves the shop completely destroyed). The last hour of our shift was dragging by particularly slow until one of our friendly regulars, Galen Radtke, came through the door. He carried a board with him that looked like some kind of mosaic artwork. Immediately, our interest was sparked.

Our first guess wasn't completely off the mark- the piece is artwork in part. I would argue, in fact, it's closer to "art" than the heart I poured into Galen's cappuccino. It's also a game. The working title, Galen says, is Tic-Tac-Toss. A very different game with the same title does already exist, so he also says to let him know if we think of any awesome names.The game is seriously awesome, and I'm not sure I'm up to the task to be honest.

These Xs (who shall not be named) are about to get beat by these Os.

Long story short, Tic-Tac-Toss is a complex version of the simple game (you guessed it) Tic-tac-toe. Just like the original, each player is either X's or O's and exchanges turns placing their respective letter in the hopes of getting three in a row or preventing their opponent from doing so. This is where the similarities end. Instead of paper and pencil, you have a game board and pieces. The pieces are illustrated with a small version of a Tic-tac-toe board and a directional arrow. The arrows illustrate the direction the opposing player's piece must slide on the board. Three in a row can be achieved anywhere on the board, but pieces can only be placed in the red center. The result is an intricate puzzle experience; both eye-candy and brain-food.

Galen has been playing Tic-tac-toss with people for a few months, gathering feedback and working in new ideas. Now on his third prototype, it's advanced beyond the idea phase to a beautifully made, well executed game. Not to mention, it's ridiculously fun. Josiah and I played at least four times. Galen spent just a few minutes explaining the concept and rules, then sat aside to occasionally officiate. From the first piece we placed, our brains were being tested.  

Josiah fervently places an X with Kendal and Galen's encouragement.

While Josiah and I battled, we discussed Galen's plans for the game. I mentioned that it would make a neat I-Phone app, but Galen's response was even better. Inspired by games like chess, which can be carried around and played anywhere, the most recent Tic-Tac-Toss prototype includes a hidden, cut out space to store game-pieces. "I want it to be a game you can play in the park," he said. He envisions making the board and pieces out of wood, and burning in the details. He doesn't want to lose the aesthetic aspect of the colors in his current prototype, however, so we discussed different ways to include them. My favorite idea was a cloth board and tile pieces. The cloth would double as a satchel to carry the pieces. Since they're tile, the pieces would hold down the board on windy days at the park. 

Galen, the creator and designer of Tic-Tac-Toss.

Galen pointed out an aspect of community in his game that I'm sure he didn't overlook. Rather than a game that can be played alone or against a computer, his creation thrives on friendship. When two people sit down to play Tic-Tac-Toss, they share an experience that's growing more rare as the technology age advances. The sheer inventiveness of the game puts the players in the position to learn together. Beyond this, it's a chance to interact with, discuss, re-think, and co-create a piece of art. 

      *The game-board and pieces in the above images, along with all written descriptions and rules, are the copyright property of Galen Radtke.

Nix Boredom and Love Your Neighbors In 4 Easy Steps

God inspired and supplied.
Click image for a much larger and more easily read view.

Someone Planned This...

Last Thursday, in continuation with the previous week's lesson on plans, did not go as expected. Once again, Jeremiah and I found ourselves alone at Capitol Lake. This time was our fault, to an extent. But I contend our situation could not have been avoided. We were set up I tell you. 

Usually, we sit around Moon Base with nothing to do until our pals show up to prayer walk. This week I figured, why not make music at the park while we wait. I planned - or perhaps imagined would be more accurate - to start the evening off with Jeremiah. We'd jam and sing, and as our friends showed they'd join. Once everyone was gathered we'd set out on our walk with our hearts focused and our spirits high.

Problem was, I didn't properly convey my imagined plan to anyone. I did mention my thoughts to Kendal and Winter early on in the week. At that point though, it was more of a: Wouldn't it be cool if we had a jam sesh at the park... than a: Meet us at the park before the prayer walk. I realized this just after Jeremiah and I found ourselves a comfy spot in the grass and discovered that neither of us had phones.

Since we were already set and ready to make noise, we decided to wait and see if anyone would show. I was hoping the vague informaiton I mentioned to Winter and Kendal would make them curious enough to come to the lake. Once there, our loud and anti-melodic sounds would lure them towards us. After waiting 15 minutes or so, we started to feel a little nervous and impatient. So, we got to praying. "We call forth our friends in Jesus name," we said. "Carry these sound waves to their ears and inspire them to move toward us." We determined to wait what we felt was 30 minutes and if we were still alone, we'd head home. The night was young still and we hoped to rally the troops for a walk before dark.

Moments after we concluded our remaining time at the lake was limited, Jeremiah squinted into the distance behind me. "Is that Dave?" he asked. I could just make out a man with long gray hair. Without thinking, I waved. The man waved back and started walking our way. "Is that you guys?" Dave asked. What a funny coincidence, we thought.

"I don't usually come here when I want a walk, but I felt like I needed to," Dave explained. "And I would have parked sooner but none of the spots felt right, ya know?" By dusk, the three of us were still chatting merrily away. Dave is Josiah's dad. He's been a missionary for at least 30 years and has been witness to some incredible works of God. Josiah has invited him to a few Bible studies and my mind gets blown every time. Our conversation that evening ranged from miraculous healings, to why we've disassociated from the church; from raising the dead, to Wee Todd's giant, hand-made djembe (if I can acquire a picture of this, I will most certainly add it).

As it so happens, Jeremiah and I are getting married at the end of the month. It also so happens that Dave came to Bible study last Tuesday, where we dropped the not so subtle hint (coaxed by Josiah) that we would be ultra stoked if he would marry us. Since Jeremiah and I happened to be alone at the lake, it was an excellent opportunity for Dave to sling disarming questions at us like, "So why do you want to get married?" I semi-believe this was retaliation for putting him on the spot at Bible study.

After several minutes of long-winded stammering to express simply, we love each other, we noticed the time and remembered the prayer walk. By now, it seemed official that no one else was coming and that it was too late for a walk. Dave was on his way to visit a friend before he veered our way; our time was coming to an end. The whole experience was incredibly refreshing. I couldn't get over how happy the very air felt - like an incredible weight I didn't realize I'd been carrying had been lifted from my shoulders. Jeremiah started to explain the sensation he was feeling, but couldn't quite find the words. As a last ditch effort, he started to say "It's like..." and then a light flicked on behind his eyes. "We were set up."

We parted ways with hugs and perma-grins. Jeremiah and I have been glowing all week. It's amazing the effect a good conversation can have on the soul. This has been an oddly difficult Thursday evening to write about. I was so excited I wanted to get this posted the very next day, but it's taken me all week to find the words and the time to write. My hope is that all who read this will find themselves similarly "set up" in the near future.

tusdaynite at Moon Base (Godstory talk)

so it is the after hours of tusday, just got home from Moon Base, now siting on the foor of my room with Alistair my cat and cold one listenting to some hardstyle with insents burning.

so another nite of whut we call Bible study tnite we finished up chapter 5 of Acts and u know whut as far as our talking whent we rilly didnt davel much in the text we wher going thru we ended up just talking about other random subject like (i rilly wonder whut Jesus's life wus like growing up like, wus he more in the state of Adem and Eve thu his life, or wus he simply purfict) you know that kinda stuf.. one thing that wus a kicker for us wus this dood named Gamilal tord the end of chapter 5. he wus prity much a dood who wus respected buy the entire city, the context of whut hapend is just that the tempel leaders wanted to kill the apostels becus they wher cosing the masses to tern away from the old law (religen). but wut wus cool wus whut Gamilal sed.. in a nut shel he told the tempel leaders that they shouldent kill the apostels becus if whut they wher doing wus of human desires then it would fail inevidubly, so thers no need to kill them, and if its somthing actuly of God then if they kill the apostels they are fiteing agenst God, and lets be onist if God is owly a sliver of whut we can conjer up Him to being then it probly isnt a good idea to fite with Him...

in a nutshel if its not of God it will enevitably fail at some point even without our interaction, and if it is of God then ther is no stoping it.

after our (Godstory talk) and the food the amazing Claire made wich wus salmen noodels and a tipe of sweet peper saus. along with wut i beleav wus a basl and lemon maraing and our usual close to 45 minets of just siting and talking with God praying for eachother and others in our lives. we satdown and watched an episode of startreck and a bit of futcherama then it wus bed time for the lot of us.. except me.. iv got tomaro off so il be up for a wile ... probly guna finish my beer play a little portal 2 or pokemon befor bed... hopfuly hang out with Jery tmaro being that we both hav the day off ... we'l se wuts in store ....

goodnite all

Construction Underway

I'm learning about new possibilities in the blogging world. So, I'll be doing some re-designing and creating in the next few days. Apologies in advance if you find yourself in a confusing experience like clicking on a page that leads you to nothing. I'll do my best to make these changes happen quick. I think they're going to be neat!

sunday times

so most of the time we all get together and hav dinner sunday nites at The Keep and kinda just chill and hang out its more of a party most of the time.. well tday wus my day off and i took liberty of that buy playing pokemon for qwite a wile befor i gave Claire a call to let her know whut wus going down with dinner for the nite, i had maid dough the other day and figurd i could make some pizza. and i did just that.. after geting drest and the sorts i whent and got esspresso from Mudbay and heded to The Coop aka the Olympia Food Co-op a local groshry store wher i do my shoping. half the fun of going ther is the very crowded enviroment full of very interesting caricters meny (excuse me) and (im just guna sqweez by)s are exchanged along with a smyel and goofy little shufel, but after hangeing around ther for a good hour paking my bag with multipul nesesitys and filling jars with bulk foods i cheked out with my as usual qwite perky cashir i stuffed evrything into the sadel on my scooter holding the exses in my bag over my sholder as i vencherd home to get started on dinner .....

so a few hours hav past and tday ther is ownly the compony of Claire, Kaylani, Jossy, and me theres usuly around 8 people at The Keep sunday nites but some wher sick and others wer at work.. so three pizzas wer split between the 4 of us one of wich i wus qwite fond of containting whole weat dough, a herb oil saus, mozarella, amish gorganzola, parmisan, brind olivs, whole clove garlic, carmilzed red onyon, salamie from a local farm, and pine nuts.. oh my gosh freeking good stuf.. we'r all prity much foodys so good food and lots of it is one of our things ... i love eating with all thees folk i find this act of us eating together a core thing that has brot us all together, i understand whut comunian is and that it is somthing Jesus told us to do often, but in all onisty the act of comunaly eating a meal with others is so much more spirtchuly filling then eating a peas of pre cut bred diped in sum nasty grape juice.. we partake in comunion buy comunaly feeding eachother and eating together close to if not evry day. partaking in comunan i would say is a big part of whut we do together

Oly Walk 3: A Change in Plans

Our usual prayer walk didn't go according to plan last week and I can't say I'm upset. Recently I've realized something about myself I may end up needing to work on. I loathe making plans; Avoid the task with every ounce of willpower in my body. For whatever reason, the thought of making a decision (or multiple decisions as plans tend to require) in advance makes me squirm. I can't imagine being the same person in the future that I am today. Why would I want to decide a path for a future self that will inevitably have more experience and new interests than my present self? Even more so, however, I can't stand deviating from my plans once they're made. It's so incredibly painful to make the plan in the first place that not following it through feels like murder.With this in mind, you can imagine my initial attitude toward the unexpected change in last Thursday's agenda. As I said though, I'm not even a little upset. Anymore.

Thursday afternoon Jeremiah and I sat in the living room at Moon Base waiting for our crew to arrive. It was  a gorgeous day and we were excited to take advantage of this rare sighting of the sun. As we waited, we got a few texts in response to an earlier reminder/invite we sent out that started to worry us. We sat around another hour to give any stragglers time to show up, but no one came. At this point we were disappointed. And grumpy about our disappointment. A prayer walk was not in line with this mood of ours.

Every Thursday evening Reality, the church who's parking lot we commandeer whenever we park downtown, holds a church service. I suggested we head there before our walk and get in on some worship. My hope was that a good song and some wiggling would lift our spirits. Jeremiah and I have an aversion to the whole idea of "church" being confined to a building. It comes from past experiences at church, and our present experience with Oly Acts. Anyway, the idea of going to a "church" made us even my grumpy. The idea of worship enticed us though. We set out for the park by Capitol Lake with our Bibles, guitar, and djembe in hand.

For the next hour or so, we sat in the grass and sang to God. For inspiration, we flipped through Psalms until we found something to relate to. A chapter caught Jeremiah's eye so we made the verses rhyme and he made up a guitar tune. I sang or drummed along as I felt inclined. We began with that gloom cloud still hanging over us. Singing sounded far from thrilling, but we did it anyway. After singing long enough to feel our hearts grow content, we found a new Psalm. By the end, our skies were sunny again. We sang loud, out of key, out of rhythm, and full of joy. If we could have continued to read our Bibles in the dark I doubt we would have stopped.

As we packed up our gear and moseyed back to our car, my phone rang. Kendal was calling to find out our whereabouts. "See you in about three minutes," he said after I explained. Kendal and Josiah arrived at our car the same time we did. Turns out there was a latte art throw down at Espresso Parts that evening. Considering that majority of Oly Acts consists of baristas, it was no wonder the crew hadn't shown up at Moon Base. A glance at my phone would have told me this, but in my gloomy mood I'd tossed my phone aside and chosen to ignore it.

Before we went home, Josiah, Kendal, Jeremiah, and I walked down to 4th Ave for a hot dog at Jake's. Great walk, amazing chat. We even sang songs on the way back to our car (by we I mean mostly Jeremiah and Kendal). Overall, the evening was enlightening. I learned that A) I can't sing and drum at the same time. No way no how. And B) Plans are neither necessary nor trivial. If they can be avoided, I plan to avoid them. If they can be broken, I plan to break them. But if the opportunity presents itself to devise a plan that will give me peace of mind and something to work toward, then I plan to devise to my heart's content. I can't rationalize this any further, but I stand behind what I've written. Now, to see if I can follow my own advice.

umm so yea

this will now be my new venu of sharing things with others via the interweb..

to let you know i cant spell, i dont know how to use puktuashen ect.

so heer we go

iv bin in an odd mood the past week, dont rilly know how to explain it rilly, iv just bin overly tyerd and exsosted i cant seem to eat enuf food and my sleep seshens havnt bin all to grate.

so tday after a long day at the shop aka Mud Bay Coffee's westside Cafe i whent over to Moonbass Kaylani, Jerimia, Kaylin and Claire's home for our weekly Bible study, i wus exseptionitly tyerd and hadnt eaten all that graitly that day so i wus esenchly shutdown for the most part. the study if you could call it such a thing wus qwite lively we wher going thru Acts 5 of wich we ownly made it to vurs 17 or so becus of how much talk and discushen and qweshechens wher posed to the famly, im not the tipe to talk much at all, im more of the listioning tipe. and that is whut i did tnite i sat and observed the comglomeration of our get together. Jery would read 2, maybe 5 verses if we wher lucky and then a descushen would insoo wich would often bring about moltipul tangens and storys about from most evryone giving ther 2 sence about whut they thot about whutever wus just read ... alltogether it wus an extra lively nite.. when we wher finished we spent a good 45 min in prayr just talking aloud and voicing our conserns and soal desires to our Father (thats allways is my favret part of the nite).. afterword we kinda just hung out and chilled me and Jerry shared a pipe outside on the steps befor going back indoor for a little Startreck...

and now im not to sher whut im rily geting at .. whel im guna go t bed now .. goodnite

Oly Walk 2

Oly Acts friends sets out to love on downtown Olympia. 7-21-2011.

Last Thursday we gathered together again to meander downtown Olympia in the hopes of ushering God's presence and blessing in the places we went. This time, our crew included Winter, Esa, Claire, Kendal, Jeremiah, Somewhere and I. I'll do my best to re-illustrate the experience, but the group went several different directions as we felt individually compelled so a full recap will be difficult. A few experiences stuck out that I'm particularly excited to share.

Several months ago, a string of "knit tagging" (Google this if you're unfamiliar with the term. Trust me.) occurred in Olympia. On a very glum, rainy day this winter I spotted a tree-cozy knit around a tree downtown. My spirit was immediately lifted. With this encounter in mind, I've been crocheting heart shaped swatches to hang at the places our group stops to pray. At the onset of our walk, which began in Reality's parking lot, I must admit I was in a crap mood. Instead of setting out with the group, I walked the opposite direction toward a train tunnel just across the street. Many people sleep there at night, and I've been compelled to pray there for the past week. The graffiti that covers the visible walls is filled with references to violence, drugs, and rape. As I stood there praying, peoples' voices drifted toward me; they didn't sound kind. I tagged a pole outside the entrance with a crocheted heart before I left. This was my first tagging effort, and a spot I plan to revisit. Hopefully not alone again; I'm convinced when it comes to prayer, there's power in numbers.

Shortly thereafter, the crew got back together and set out. We didn't get far. Maybe two blocks in, Jeremiah needed a potty break. We turned around to head back to Reality, which happened to be in session for church and was the nearest restroom open for use. Little did we know, following nature's call would lead us to divine encounter.We cut through an ally that spit us out right across the street from the church. On our way, Kendal noticed a cell phone lying in a puddle of water. He picked it up to find it was still turned on and fully functional. Unsure what to do, he held onto it and we continued toward the bathroom.

Once Jeremiah had taken care of business, we set off for 4th Avenue. Many of downtown's bars reside on 4th, and a lot of street kids and folks without houses hang out on the sidewalks. After our last walk, we took money from the Dirt Fund (a change jar in my apartment's living room we use to fund Oly Acts' supplies) and bought tobacco and rolling papers. Throughout the week, we rolled a few dozen cigarettes to offer anyone who asked. We figured 4th Ave would be both a good place for God to bless, and likely place to be asked for cigarettes.

On our way there, the phone Kendal found started ringing. "This is Kendal," he answered. "I found it [the phone] in a puddle." The conversation continued as the rest of us listened, a little confused. Still on the phone, Kendal turned and we followed suit. A women on the adjacent corner was waving madly at us. Kendal and Claire met the woman across the street and they talked for a moment. She was incredibly relieved, excited and grateful all at once. As she walked away, she continued to fervently thank us. "I thought my friend stole it," she explained. "I've got to go apologize!"

We made our way down 4th Ave without a single cigarette request. We were all a twinge disappointed. From 4th, we moved on to the bus station. A couple of us stayed there to pray, while others continued across the street to Street Lights, the church service we stumbled upon on our last walk. Twenty minutes or so after we split up I'd lost track of everyone. Most of us had forgotten our phones, so meeting back up was proving difficult. Eventually I ran into Winter and Esa, and gradually everyone except Claire found us. We determined a search party was in order. I stayed at a corner adjacent to both Street Lights and the bus station in case Claire came by, while everyone else split up.

While I waited, I recognized a family I'd met before hanging out by their car a few yards away. I couldn't think of a way to approach them that wasn't weird and awkward, so I decided to pray for them at a distance. In the mean time, I tagged a pole I was standing next to. As I tied up a heart, two very young boys came up to me. They didn't recognize me, but they'd come into my coffee shop with their dad several weeks before. The oldest, maybe 5 years old, tapped my leg and stared up at me. "Would you please take us over there to play with the other kids," he asked. Astonished, I said "That's not really a good thing to be asking strangers." At that point their parents hollered at them to come back, so I walked them to the car.

"I don't know if you remember," I said to their dad, "but I met you a while back." He remembered and we all chatted for a moment. Then the younger boy tapped my leg and said "Look!" From inside his coat sleeve I could see a bright yellow cast around his arm. After checking with their parents, I crouched down and talked to the boys. I asked if they wanted to help me pray and they agreed. So we held hands and asked God to heal the youngest boy's arm. The oldest, with a big grin, asked if we could pray for his arm too. The kids were stoked, as were their parents, which caught me a little by surprise. We talked some more and they told me they were expecting another baby. This led to sweet prayer shesh, and the first cigarette request of the night. As I write this, I realize I definitely gave a handful of cigarettes to a pregnant woman.... Thankfully God is good and can be trusted with the health of both baby and mother. Just to be safe, let's pray about it.

As I was talking with the family, our search party returned - Claire in tow. The walk ended without much further excitement, but we were all very satisfied with our time. It's funny: I never go on a prayer walk looking to interact with people. I'm far more comfortable praying alone. But it seems encounters with people were in store for us, whether we're looking for them or not. This became even more evident as we swapped stories at home. In part I blame Somewhere. She lures people in with her looks and before anyone knows it we're having a conversation.

Entrance to the tunnel: the site of my first crochet tag.

A pole near both the Bus Station (pictured) and Street Lights.

Behind: Street Lights. In Front: Part of the Oly Acts crew.

Chalk War: Vandalism or Art?

I had a conversation with someone a few months ago about tattoos. The man was a Christian, and was very eager to explain to me why Christians shouldn't get tattoos. Our bodies are the temples of God, he told me. Would you go to a church and spray graffiti all over it? I've seen some incredible graffiti and immediatealy began to contemplate the difference between vandalism and art. Instead of articulating these thoughts with the man, I agreed that we are temples for God. I then argued (rather heatedly) that God dwells in us, not in buildings, and I couldn't imagine him giving a hoot what any building looks like. The conversation could have been more productive and loving, to be honest. I did, however, continue to question what's art and what's vandalism, which led to several discussions with others that were far more congenial.

The question resurfaced in a more tangible context for Jeremiah and I  yesterday, when we engaged in a chalk battle with our neighbors. Now, Oly Acts is all about loving your neighbors and living in community. Before you begin to worry that we abandoned our creed and participated in anything vicious, rest assured. Our actions were motivated by a desire for beauty and love.

Our (Claire, Kaylin, Jeremiah, and mine) apartment is on the second floor of our building. We share a cement porch with the apartment on the opposite side; our front doors face each other. For the first couple weeks after we moved in, we had no welcome mat. Our door stood green and naked, and exuded an uninviting vibe. In short, it really bummed us out.

Finally one day, Claire was struck by inspiration. A pail of sidewalk chalk sat moping on a dark shelf in our hall, just screaming to be put to use. Claire took a green piece and wrote "Hello!" in large letters where our welcome mat should have been. She then left the chalk on the ledge above the door so that anyone who was feeling creative could add to the message. Gradually, flowers were added along with the words "& Welcome" in blue chalk. It was the blue chalk that initiated the chalk battle.

Last week, Jeremiah and I came home to find the blue chalk had been put to use. Heavy use, for the piece that remained above our door was about 1/4 its original length. Judging by the artwork, it was clear the artist was not from our apartment. Generally, I would be thrilled to share in creating art with my neighbors, but here is where we pick the vandalism vs. art conversation back up. Personally, I am of the opinion that beauty is an intrinsic aspect of "art." Yeah yeah I know, beauty is subjective. But darn it, a blue chalk penis is neither art nor beauty. Especially several crudely drawn blue chalk penises that cover the expanse of our porch. To be fair, someone did try to scribble them out. They just didn't try very hard.

I tried to sweep the chalk away, but it's a surprisingly persistent medium. A hose would have been useful, but we have no access to one. So we decided to take creative action. In a tag-team effort, Jeremiah and I took our chalk bucket and went to work. In about ten minutes we'd thickly layered every color of chalk at our disposal and successfully covered our porch and the penises in something at least a bit more art-like.

Shortly after we finished, the neighbors across from us opened their door. Two adorable boys, about three years old, halted in their doorway and stared at our mural. "That's awesome!" one of them said in an excited whisper. They spent several minutes pointing at different spots and exclaiming to each other how cool their porch looked. Herein lies the heart of the vandalism vs. art question for me. It's all about the reaction. Technically both the blue penises and our mural were graffiti. One was generated out of malice and rebellion, the other generated out of a love for beauty. Not that our artwork is beautiful in and of itself (I don't claim to be a skilled artist by any means), but the response it garnered was beautiful indeed.

The posted pictures, as you may have guessed, are of the mural we created. Feel free to comment, I'd be stoked to hear any opinions and thoughts this might have conjured for you! I'll be adding a rad video I found of "reverse graffiti" soon which I think will add an interesting layer to our thoughts.

As mentioned, here is a link to the reverse graffiti video: http://youtu.be/5lX-2sP0JFw

Thursday Oly Walk

Last Thursday part of the crew (Claire, Winter, Esa, Jeremiah, and I) got together for a walk downtown. Olympia is so lively and unique I never expect a dull walk. On this particular venture though, two encounters particularly excited us. 

My goal for the walk was to pray. Specifically, I intended to pray for the businesses, buildings, sidewalks, and any other spot that caught my eye. Though I'm certainly not opposed to praying with people, my focus was Olympia itself.  By ushering blessing and peace into our town's very structure, I have no doubt people are positively effected in turn. When I think about how odd we probably looked strolling along constantly muttering, I can't get over how awesome it is to have friends willing join me on walks such as these.

Somewhere, our dog, came along that evening as well. We had no plan when we set out, so we jokingly prayed that she would be our divining rod. Our dog is only six months old and not exactly adept at walking on a leash yet; especially not in an area with so many new smells. Tonight she was even more impatient than normal and practically dragged us from our car in Reality's parking lot to the bus station on State Ave. Once there, she calmed down just long enough to test the comfort level of the grass and relieve herself before we were off again. This time not far, our destination was just across the street. 

Just past the bus station, in a vacant parking lot behind the food bank and Union Gospel Mission, around 100 people were gathered. To the side were several large vans and a small tent where kids were blowing bubbles and getting their faces painted. In the center was a man with a microphone, loudspeaker, and a Bible. We were slightly incensed when he called for silence and so maintained our muttered prayers at a more audible volume. Perhaps its the rebel in us, but we had no idea who this guy was or if he ought to be shouting at people to be quiet and listen to prayer like that. 

Jeremiah and I stuck around after the closing prayer to observe and pray some more, while the rest of our group took some laps around the block. The people gathered lined up at the waiting vans. The doors opened and everyone was offered food, clothing, and other essentials. Many received prayer along with their supplies. Before long we met the guy with the mic - Phil. He's a very kind, energetic fellow and was stoked to see some young faces interested in his group's work. Phil works with City Gates Ministries (http://www.citygatesministries.com/Home_.html), a collaborative effort of people from various churches who seek to help people in need. Those familiar with City Gates would not have been surprised at the gathering we happened upon, but our jaws dropped. Apparently this has been happening every Thursday since 1995 and draws a crowd of 50 to 190 folks. 

We spent about 40 minutes with the City Gates folks getting to know Phil and taking in all that was going on. We left unsure whether to get involved in the future and to what extent, but were excited about the turn of events (and that Somewhere had indeed led us to divine encounter). 

On our way back to the car we walked past Dumpster Values. A pair of travel-worn people about our age were sitting on the wall. With them were two big dogs, a puppy, and their backpacks. As we passed, the boy said "Excuse me sir, I believe I left my dollar in your wallet." I scrounged a dollar in change from my purse and handed it to the girl next to him. After some very brief small chat, I explained why we were walking and asked if they had any requests for prayer. And herein lies the second exciting encounter of the night.

Rather than a nice simple prayer and a clean get away, we had an amazing conversation with the two travelers. We discussed our opinions, beliefs, and personal experiences with God. What made me extra happy was that we were not talking at them, they weren't talking at us. The discussion was a shared experience and no one seemed uncomfortable expressing their thoughts. We shared our "church" histories and why we tend not to frequent such buildings. We talked about who we thought Jesus was and his purpose on the earth. We shared dreams, life goals, moral standards, and conspiracy theories. Throughout the conversation, several people came and went. For a few minutes there were just under ten people on our corner. We learned our acquaintances' names,Christopher and Ruby, just before we left.We talked a little more about their travel plans, posed for a group picture, and parted ways. 

This walk was so rad, we plan to do it more often. Thursday evenings are now dedicated to gathering and walking, all who are available are welcome to join. We've been rolling cigarettes to hand out, and hope to have some iced coffee and baked goodies soon. Still no set game plan, but that's how we like it.