Ruminations de Zoomdak

A Letter to Future Generations

2012-01-21T02:43:00.000-08:00

A letter to future generations:

I'm sorry about the world we've left you: trash in the oceans, glaciers receding, ice caps dissolving, oil shortage, animal extinction, air pollution, hole in the ozone layer, and dissonance and strife between countries and peoples across the world.

But the worst problem is this: so many people don't care.
They are living for themselves, living for the now, wasting away this precious earth to get what they want and get it now.
Maybe they don't see the state the globe is in, and if they do, I don't know how they can respond with apathy.

For this is certain: slowly, like the turning of the earth, it is getting drained.
Humanity relies upon the health of the earth, and as the earth is drained to sickness, so will this return upon humanity.
I fear that once it turns, we'll be to late to do anything substantial about it.

So I encourage you you to do all you can to preserve this earth for future generations. As I too am working to preserve it for you.

Live in such a way that once you leave, the world will be a better place than when you began. The world is a big place, but with a big heart and small acts of love you can make all the difference.

In love to you,
From me

Cannon Beach Photo

2011-12-09T00:11:00.000-08:00

Check out beautiful Cannon Beach Photos!

Cannon Beach, Oregon

Memorize the Sermon on the Mount

2011-11-29T18:51:00.000-08:00

The Sermon on the Mount is at the core of Jesus' teachings. It is a guide for people to live by, it is the Word.

The Bible calls us to put the word of God in our heart, to meditate on it day and night, to treasure it.

What better way to do this than to memorize the word? What better passage than the Sermon on the Mount?

So here is the challenge:
Memorize the Sermon on the Mount, one verse a day (with Sunday's for review and reflection) by this coming Easter. This means 111 days of memorization, meditation and reflection over Jesus' teachings.

Difficult? Yes. Life changing? Absolutely positively.

Details:
Start December 1st and finish April 7th, memorizing 1 verse a day.
18 Sundays for review and reflection (or catchup).
Download iCal memorization plan.
Plan a daily time to create this habit.
Live a closer walk with Christ.

17 Words for Rain

2011-11-01T18:58:00.000-07:00

17 Words for Rain
Organized from light to heavy:

Fog
Light Mist
Heavy Mist
Mizzle
Spit
Drizzle
Sprinkle
Light Rain
Rain
Showers
Squall
Downpour
Sheets
Torrents
Cats and Dogs
Buckets
Monsoon—“Frog-Choker”

Where we live, it rains plenty (average of over 6 feet per year). Rain falls in many patterns, so we've compiled a "Rain Scale", 17 stages of rain with "fog" the lightest form of rain. Some may question fog as a category of rain, but sitting in the thick fog all day in September on the High Divide in Olympic National Park, we were soaked!. Monsoon (aka "frog-choker") is what we're calling the heaviest rain. This is a work in progress, so feel free to comment and add your ideas. Also, check the Beaufort Rain Scale from the Brits (another rainy place) which breaks rain into a scale of 11.

(via CannonBeachLog)

6 Rotating Popular Zoomdak Photos

2011-08-11T00:02:00.001-07:00

Night Run

2011-06-28T17:40:00.001-07:00

pine, cedar shingles, salt air, sand, bonfire, salty mud grass air, grass, bbq bonfire, horse manure, exhaust, asphalt, cigarette smoke, old pizza, salt air, pine.

Smells on a night run.

Love and String Theory: A Jump Into the Fish

2011-03-18T00:57:00.000-07:00

27 Aug 2010

"I don't want jump into the fish" he exclaims as an
excuse for an inexcusable amount of time
perched on the ledge above dark water.
She's already jumped in four times.
It seems like an endless abyss filled with frigid fluid.
But it's 8 feet into a surprisingly warm lake of stars.
Another 15 seconds pass with silence.
Splash! Soon followed by a shriek and a splash.
They tread water under the sky
talking about friendship , stars, and Garden State.
They may watch it tonight,
or go to Sharis.
Perhaps both.
Seemlingly bodiless heads float animate on the lake surface.
A quiet backstroke eliminates the world and leaves the universe.
A fathomless blanket of black punctuated so extensively
with pinholes of light.
And one particularly bright star shining in the milky way.
Shivering, they scramble through the tombstone forest.
"One hot chocolate please."
She asks to taste the whip cream and slaps it across his cheek.
They talk of love and string theory,
poetry and future possibilities,
life and the will of God.
Back to the apartment to watch Garden State.
A jump into the fish.

What is beauty?

2011-01-18T21:35:00.000-08:00

      It has been said that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Many forms of beauty that are universally recognized. For instance – who doesn’t think a vibrant sunset is beautiful? Or a sleeping baby? Or a creek through a lush forest or the sun glinting of curving dunes? Or the male or female form? Or the moon or stars? Or a life well lived?
      What is it about these things that makes them beautiful? They are all part of creation. Made in God’s hands and given with love for all to enjoy. If these things are truly created in God’s image, what a beautiful God we serve!
     Yet beauty is more than we see, more than that which is physically evident. An action can be beautiful. The giving of one’s self through love has more beauty than that a grain of sand can contain; for it is a reflection of the relationship that God originally intended. How beautiful it would be to be totally vulnerable, yet totally loved. Yet this is the kind of love the Jesus gives to us. To lay down his life upon that cross in total suffering so that those whom captured and killed him could be set free. What beauty!
      If the beauty on this earth and love shared by those who inhabit it are but a mere reflection of God, than God’s beauty is must be more beautiful than any of us can ever imagine possible. More than any eye could behold.

Written by Thomas Robinson - May 2009

Singularity

2010-12-22T01:18:00.000-08:00

2 Jan 2010

It doesn't make sense to me that all humanity is dependent upon one person, upon one life, death and resurrection. How can it be that so many billions and trillions of people throughout all time need to turn and believe in one man, said to be God, who isn't even seen. How is this the necessity in order to have meaning in life and meaning after life? That this one person would have the audacity to ask you to change your entire life to live like He did. Doesn't that seem a little self-centered? And yet. Yet, what a life to live up to: a life that is exactly opposite of self centered. In humility, he served others, putting himself down to raise others up. So selfless that he gave up his life so that you may live. There is no greeter example of love. No greater story. No greater truth. It is not for Jesus' good that He asks you to live like him, no. It is for your own good. For through him, we receive the greatest treasure. It is in this we hope, in His love that we take faith in following the unseen.

Photo Influence

2010-12-20T01:32:00.000-08:00

While driving back from Glacier National Park last summer, I started a list of images that have greatly influenced my photography. They are inspiration, the kind of images I want to capture.

In no particular order:

Deer in a Forest Fire by John McColgan / U.S. Forest Service

On 6 August 2000, as several fires converged in the Bitterroot National Forest near the town of Sula in western Montana, John McColgan, a fire behavior analyst in the employ of the USDA Forest Service, snapped the spectacular photograph shown above with a digital camera. See more.

Aspen Grove, Colorado by Christopher Burkett

During these times, an almost palpable calm and peace fills the air, as all of nature seems to glow with the final embers of the day. This glorious, radiant light and peace lasts but for a moment, before fading to the deep blues and somber greys of night. See more.

Divided by Kevin Ebi


Numerous small creeks actually combine in this dramatic seasonal waterfall near the Continental Divide above Logan Pass in Glacier National Park, Montana. This location is commonly referred to as "Double Falls" or "Triple Falls" due to famous photographs of just a portion of this creek. Several peaks, including Mount Gould and Mount Siyeh, are in the background. See more.

A Splash of Color by Rackat

Rainbow over the Potala Palace, Lhasa (Tibet, 1981) by Galen Rowell

In Natura by Shutter-X

Luminosity of Stone by J Karl Bogartte

"...unlike all of these such damned or blessed virtuality, is a clear space for free imagination and creative spiritual strategies, in which the most varied forms can be created and intervention with miraculous possibilities - standing against all rigid realities." See more.

Mt. Rainier/Tipsoo Lake by Kevin Ebi

Mt. Rainier reflects in the still waters of Tipsoo Lake during a vibrant fall sunrise. See full story.

Untitled [floating rock, rippling lake, Colorado], 1991 by Jerry Uelsmann

Awash by Alex Stoddard

I dreamt once that all of the men and all of the women of the world poured out their knowledge into a single river, and everyone knew, and all was good. See more.

Tetons and Snake River by Ansel Adams

Thank you for reading.

Quotes from Facebook

2010-12-10T23:09:00.001-08:00

Jordan: Luke, I got two words for you: die!
Luke: that's only one word.
Jordan: die!
Luke: ah, there you go.

You're like...the most exquisite, wobbly creature I've ever met. - off facebook

Me: Man, this place is so, beautiful, just stop, and listen!
...after a moment or two...
James: I wonder if there is any leftovers from lunch.

"Glory can be found in all of creation. I'm just here to help others to see it" – Thomas Robinson

"Sometimes I do get to places just when God's ready to have somebody click the shutter." - Ansel Adams

"What in the name of me is going on in here?"
- Jesus, from the Jesus videos

"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve." - JRR Tolkien

"A wagon full of pamcakes? In the Champeenship?! I'd like to see ya try!" - Homestar Runner

and The Cheat comes in on his keyboards and he's like boop boop boop boop boop boop boop boop boop boop boop boop boop boo and then I'm like "And the dragon comes in the NIIIiiiiIIIiiiiIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIiiiIIGGHH—
... Augh ... Oh yeah!
- Strong Bad Email - Guitar

I'm gonna go talk to a napkin now.
- Jessica

Gandhi is the reason I cut my own hair now.
- Eric

Songs that Speak to Me

2010-12-04T00:20:00.001-08:00

My uncle challenged me to compile a list of music that speaks to me. I did. It is currently 25 songs long, but I'm not got to bear that 1.8hours of music on you. Instead, here is my top 10.
Couple notes:
A. Sorry for youtube quality. I could find no other way to easily access all these songs.
B. This is my standing as of this moment. Always morphing.
C. Enjoy:

10. Insomniac Olympics - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PvcHGu95XGM%EF%BB%BF

9. Compass - Jamie Lidell - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q4-k9Fez1n0

8. Fiez-vous en Lui - Taize - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hRM7VJOES_E

7. Fireflies - Owl City - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dFsFZitlM7k

6. Star Guitar - The Chemical Brothers - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0S43IwBF0uM
One of the best music videos I've ever seen. Music and video so intertwined. And I love the song.

5. Sunday - Caleb and Sol - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2fVcu7Cp778
Love the melody, love the words. Love the encouragement to sabbath.

4. Ultimate Painter - Anna Collins Wakeman - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Hg6XzCnRFI
Anna CW is a gal from Whitworth I know, I hope you don't mind me putting up this song on youtube.
The words of this song so meaningful, and love the melody.

3. Simple Psalm - Fred Simon - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N2e3YAPerhI
Speaks to me deep. Puts me at rest. Almost anytime it comes on, I have to stop what I'm doing to bask in this song.

2. Peace - Jennifer Knapp - http://www.godtube.com/watch/?v=6PKYPNNX
Puts me at peace. Comforts me when I'm feeling down.

1. Ageispolis by Aphex Twin - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BlZ-NEMt_iI
Gosh, I hardly know what to say about this song. It hits me deep. I love electronica, but this is so so much more than a normal electronic song. Feel like its beat matches with the throb of my heart. I highly recommend listening to this song with good headphones on an iPod whilst walking over the dunes towards the ocean on a calm totally starry night. So sublime.

Sweet Ruin by Tony Hoagland

2010-10-25T22:11:00.001-07:00

Sweet Ruin by Tony Hoagland

Maybe that is what he was after,

my father, when he arranged, ten years ago,

to be discovered in a mobile home

with a woman named Roxanne, an attractive,

recently divorced masseuse.

He sat there, he said later, in the middle

of a red, imitation-leather sofa,

with his shoes off and a whiskey in his hand,

filling up with a joyful kind of dread--

like a swamp, filling up with night,

--while my mother hammered on the trailer door

with a muddy, pried-up stone,

then smashed the headlights of his car,

drove home,

and locked herself inside.

He paid the piper, was how he put it,

because he wanted to live,

and at the time knew no other way

than to behave like some blind and willful beast,

--to make a huge mistake, like a giant leap

into space, as if following

a music that required dissonance

and a plunge into the dark.

That is what he tried to tell me,

the afternoon we talked,

as he reclined in his black chair,

divorced from the people in his story

by ten years and a heavy cloud of smoke.

Trying to explain how a man could come

to a place where he has nothing else to gain

unless he loses everything. So he

louses up his work, his love, his own heart.

He hails disaster like a cab. And years later,

when the storm has descended

and rubbed his face in the mud of himself,

he stands again and looks around,

strangely thankful just to be alive,

oddly jubilant--as if he had been granted

the answer to his riddle,

or as if the question

had been taken back. Perhaps

a wind is freshening the grass,

and he can see now, as for the first time,

the softness of the air between the blades. The pleasure

built into a single bending leaf.

Maybe then he calls it, in a low voice

and only to himself, Sweet Ruin.

And maybe only because I am his son,

I can hear just what he means. How

even at this moment, even when the world

seems so perfectly arranged, I feel

a force prepared to take it back.

Like a smudge on the horizon. Like a black spot

on the heart. How one day soon,

I might take this nervous paradise,

bone and muscle of this extraordinary life,

and with one deliberate gesture,

like a man stepping on a stick,

break it into halves. But less gracefully

than that. I think there must be something wrong

with me, or wrong with strength, that I would

break my happiness apart

simply for the pleasure of the sound.

The sound the pieces make. What is wrong

with peace? I couldn't say.

But, sweet ruin, I can hear you.

There is always the desire.

Always the cloud, suddenly present

and willing to oblige.

Thanks for the Memories - Whitworth Version

2010-09-05T20:57:00.000-07:00

Written by Laura Rooper and Thomas Robinson

To be sung to the tune of http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X6oHxq77_MI

1.
Thanks for the memories,
Wooing will shake the floor,
Procrastinating core,
The glasses of Leonard Oakland,
need I say more?
How lovely it was.

2.
Thanks for the memories,
Of Toby’s perfect 10,
Tuesday’s with naked men,
And all the juicy rumors,
spread by the Whitworthian.
How lovely it was.

3.
We’ll sneak into the FAB now,
Before they knock it down now.
Oh wait, here comes security,
They think we’re disrupting community.

4.
Thanks for the memories,
Of pinecones falling in spring,
time to get that ring,
And how we had that DTR,
after our fall break fling
!Thank you so much.

5.
Thanks for the memory,
of prime-time from 8 to 10
The B-Rob frisbee win
Communal showers in Arend,
Sittser, is that a sin?
How lovely it was.

6.
And thanks for the memories,
Of the law versus grace,
Mushrooms in a paste,
Late to Neder’s Hist o Christ,
down the Hello Walk I race.
How lovely it was.

7.
We will drop a tray now,
before they take them away now,
Sustainability... my ass
Lauretta just swiped my friend a free pass

8.
So thanks. For the memories.
All the knowledge I learned here.
All the friends I hold near,
Shake B-Rob’s hand and shed a cheerful tear
Awfully glad I chose you,
80,000 toodle-loo.
And thank you so much.

25 Things About Me

2010-04-26T13:17:00.000-07:00

1. I love making photos of creation. Check out my website: http://www.GloryOfCreation.net/
2. I've taken about half a million photos. I don't know for sure, but somewhere in that ball park.
3. I like bright colors, graffiti that is thought provoking, and quality design.
4. I don't like following fads. Thus, I'm writing this a good year after it was the Facebook thing. I also stopped reading Harry Potter at book five when it became a craze. All I know about Twilight is from what I've read on MLIA. I still own an old-skool flip phone. And I still like Yo-Yo's.
5. I've been in about half the states in the USA (though I was to young to remember a lot of them). I've been to Hawaii, Canada, Mexico, England, France, Italy, Germany, Denmark, England, Scotland, Ireland and Spain. Stay tuned, more to come :D.
6. I have a goal to leave for a year long road trip across America within five years of graduation (May 2009)
7. I believe in the importance of space (artistically, literally, metaphorically, relationally)
8.
9. I am stunned about how important and amazing light is.
10. I love hugs.
11. I listen well by sketching.
12. I absolutely love playing. Play is a creative force that brings out a joy of life seldom found after childhood.
13. I memorized 33 digits of Pi in 8th grade. 3.141592653589793238462643327889502 (the last 8 are a bit jumbled).
14. It bothers me how the world seems so money and profit driven. What fulfillment is there in money?
15. My online alias Zoomdak, originated from similarly a named Nigerian soccer player in a SNES game called Tony Meola Sidekicks Soccer.
16. I actually think the word 'actually' is overused. (also, can we cut 'ums' and 'uhs', 'like' and 'you know?')
17. Sorry if this grosses you out, but I broke my 48 second record with a 1:11 in longest time peeing.
18. I like listening to Electronica and Christian Rock as my last.fm will attest. (I lost the game.)
19. I am fascinated with dreams and surrealism.
20. I will rarely turn down an adventure.
21. For me, time in nature is the ultimate relief of almost any kind of stress.
22. Papyrus is the most frustratingly overused font on the planet. It's like a business-person attempting to be creative and failing. Thus, I'm collecting photos of designs with Papyrus to make a video ranting about it.
23. I have a total of about 3,560 gigabytes of functioning hard-drive space sitting on my desk.
24. I love running barefoot on the beach, even if it is at 3am.
25. Soli Deo Gloria
25.7 I like to think that I am a non-conformist.

Lyrics to Sunday by Caleb and Sol Rexius

2009-12-14T04:59:00.000-08:00

Sunday by Caleb and Sol Rexius - Lyrics

Sitting down below a darkened sky
Sit alone and it's cold outside
The tree top with the rain on the over-hang making me question

If I could be anywhere, where would I be
I'd be right here in this song
Right here in the street.

With you
With you
With you
With you

Take a look at the cars gone by and I wonder why
Its getting late on a Sunday are you waiting for dawn

But I wouldn't trade this corner for anything
Just, jus-me strings and strings and the rhythm praising my King

With you
With you
With you
With you

Sunday has come and gone
and I'll sing another song
I wanna be with you.
Sunday has come and gone
and I'll sing another song
I wanna be with you.

(dance break)

I decide its time to move along
walking home as I hum a song
Silhouette of what's left of the hills moving along
And all I, can do is share my voice with, nobody but me and you
and why I'm here is to be with you

With you
With you
With you
With you

With you
On a Sunday
With you
On a Sunday, yeah
With you
On a Sunday
With you
On a Sunday, yeah

-

Check out Caleb and Sol on their website, their blog, YouTube, Facebook or Myspace
(these unofficial lyrics are compiled by Thomas Robinson and Anthony Freakin Priest.)

Photo of the Week: Golden Beach Creek

2009-12-02T02:50:00.000-08:00

A Year Ago Today

2009-11-06T01:20:00.000-08:00

Think back to this date a year ago. Where were you? Are you a different kind of person than you were then? What have you learned since then?

A year ago today I was in Mallorca, Spain, after three months of traveling across the British Isles. Since then, my brother's been married, I've graduated from college and found a job and am heading into the future. Funny to think that a year ago, I had no idea where I'd be in a year, and now, I'm in the same boat.

It's 6am

2009-10-26T06:27:00.000-07:00

It's an awkward time to be,
at 6am,
when one hasn't slept all night.
There is a decision to make
and the teeter-totter creeks in the breeze,
knowing full well that
a mind should have been made
hours ago.
It is a awkward time to be,
for most people this time is either a dream
or scratch across a bleary room.
But one sits there considering that they should be there,
not here.
The stomach aches for food,
the eyes for sleep.
Yet it's 6am,
and who can tell where the fulcrum will fall.
For now the totter could teeter each way.
Today is a brand new day.
It's 6am.

Silence

2009-09-06T00:00:00.006-07:00

We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature - trees, flowers, grass- grows
in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence... We need silence to be able to touch souls.
- Mother Teresa

I'm a Pro...

2009-09-04T01:52:00.002-07:00

Summer Moves so Fast.

2009-07-10T01:24:00.001-07:00

It is already mid-July!

Hand Off

2009-04-15T09:45:00.000-07:00

Paddingston arriving
downtown London
      time to explore
bridge     art everywhere
Influence
classical art
and modern art -1
Tate Modern
inside tate
speipop n
spider above
down
red & green
red & green
under
under spider!
other art
    God is Coming

Grey Waves

2009-04-06T21:23:00.000-07:00

In and out,

the foam and mist rode upon grey waves.

Outlines of the rocks receded into the distance,

each less visible than the last.

The rain sprinkled down finding itself landing

upon the waves,

upon the beach,

upon a washed up carcass.

Boy and girl,

both of them scrambled down a bluff,

on an adventure into

the rain.

As the rain came down,

their grinning faces

lifted up.

As they picked their way down to the sand,

they glimpsed a mass along the beach.

Their feet hit sand and stepped forward,

exploring toward this mass till they discovered

the rotting carcass of a dead seal.

The gnarled flesh lay upon the beach,

its life past end.

In and out,

a small wave chased the humans off

and caressed the carcass.

With this simple touch of water,

it reanimated with a shiver of life.

The next wave came even larger,

lifting the seal so that it lazily swam back out with the ebb.

They stood upon the rocky shore,

mesmerized by this vision of marine life.

The seal’s flesh floating upon incoming water of the next wave

until it reached its resting place upon the sand.

The rain continued to fall:

a requiem for what once was.

In and out,

the foam and mist rode upon the grey waves.

- Thomas Robinson

March 2009

It was April

2009-04-04T00:09:00.000-07:00

Written April 2009

It was April.
He wore his wool gloves,
and his poofy jacket.
With a back pack on his back
and a back pack on his front,
he biked along the loop.
Snow upon snow.
He had just schlepped 90 bricks.
30 to save.
Janitors questioned,
but the door shut.

It was April,
and white shreds fell calmly,
in hoards.
Happy Springtime she spoke:
but she weren’t happy.
An entire building to clean at 4am.
The campanile glowed warmly;
spraying light to each falling flake.
Hawthorne was covered white.
So was he.
Carving back and forth.
Bike wheels leaving,
dark line.
Artist in motion.
Transient,
yet soon remembered.

It was April.
The bus stop glowed even more brightly.
It’s dull gold reflecting across the snow:
waiting for morning shuffle.
The dark line turned left,
barely seen by his shoulder glance.
Winter’s remembrance brushed upon his face,
each molecule making its cold presence known.
But he was joyous.

Back and forth,
swerving hithero,
and around again.

Dark line, dark line.
He wondered where it went,
for it followed him.
About and round.
Through the gentle flakes,
he found his way home.

Yet soon,
Unrestrained.
Back into the cold.
He lay upon the blanketed street,
naked,
soaking in the glory.

It was April.

A little something from Belfast

2008-10-13T16:48:00.002-07:00

Swiss Alps

2008-09-29T09:04:00.001-07:00

Taylor Modern

2008-09-16T09:05:00.000-07:00

Taylor in the Tate Modern

Poem - Along the Bank of the Thames

2008-09-09T06:11:00.001-07:00

Like the turns, I cry out to you Lord. What does happiness matter. It is a fleeting mood, a passing storm. But the love of the Lord is as vast as the sky. Prayer like water from that sky, raining down upon our hands. Water is a mystery like God. Keeps us alive and alove and shows us your ways. In and out with the tide - rhythms of life. Solitude and community. Not guilt in rest - in returning to God. The world may pass by, but you remain oh Lord. Keep me afloat, lift me in your arms that I may cry to you. Turn.

Falling Up

2008-08-19T16:26:00.000-07:00

The night before the final for the first class (Christianity in Britain), I took a study break and headed down to the library. A bunch of people were down there, and I borrowed Calli's iPod and sat down on a comfy leather couch. Falling Up is basically my favorite band and I hadn't heard them for about a month. I grooved upon the music and this idea for popped into my head. I grabbed a pen and this sketch flowed forth.

Arthur's Seat

2008-08-17T18:21:00.000-07:00

Amazing views from Arthur's Seat in Edinburgh, Scotland.

My favorite photo of a corbid that I've ever shot.

Sketch on of Bus

2008-08-09T19:06:00.000-07:00

Damp Danby Endevour

2008-08-09T15:52:00.000-07:00

On our day off, Elizabeth, Adrienne, Rebecca and I knew we wanted to go hiking in the moors. But we didn't know where and we didn't know how to get there. From York we gook a bus to Pickering. The lady in the tourist information was very helpful and we ended up taking a moorsbus to Kirbymoorside. At this point, it was total downpour. We ducked into a coffee shop to get out of the rain and ask for help. He told us to go to Pickering, and take a train from there up to a beautiful place. We didn't tell him that we just came from Pickering. We went down to the bus stop, hoping that we could hop off somewhere else to go hiking.

At the bus stop, there was a lady whom we later found was named Sheila. Sheila came over to help us figure out the bus schedule, ended up chatting with us for a little while, recommending we go to Danby, and inviting us to a bakery up the street once we realized the bus wasn't coming. So we went to the bakery, she said a word to the counter about the Americans, wished well and disappeared a quickly as she appeared.
The next bus came on time and we road over the foggy ridges and down to Danby. To catch both buses back, we only had an hour in Danby. So we hiked out into the country side, tromped though a field, looked upon the hillsides and hiked back. Then took busses all the way back to York. Thanks to Sheila and all the people who helped four clueless Americans, we were able to go forth and enjoy the countryside.

Sheila. Thank you!

Tree out in the fields of Danby.

"Ugly" Duckling on the way back.

Whitby Abbey

2008-08-08T15:49:00.000-07:00

Along the Eastern coast of England lies a ruins that was once a flourishing abbey. I'm speaking of Whitby Abbey - founded in 657 and then destroyed by Henry VIII through the act of Disillusionment in mid 16th century. Though in ruins, it was still impressive to see (and climb on ). To know that here in 664, the Synod of Whitby was held. A synod that brought together the Celtic and Roman factions of Christianity to discuss their differences. The main issue was the dating of Easter, but they also were able to settle other differences as well. The story of Caedmon, the first English poet also took place in Whitby.

Once we got back to the bus another student and I held a synod of our own and were able to come to agreement. Of course, it probably helped that our synod was about whether purple should remain purple and not about when the resurrection of Christ should be celebrated.

York Minster

2008-08-07T15:39:00.000-07:00

As a group, we arrived at the York Minster at noon. For the first hour, I wondered around with the group - touring through the undercroft, laughing at funny faces in the Chapter House, and contemplating stained glass. For a while after this, I photographed about anything and everything I found interesting. I ended up shooting about 225 images. Munching on some generic Pop Tarts, I sat next to a large pillar, comtemplating upon the stained glass and beautiful architecture, Writing in my journal and thanking God for all his goodness.

A clergy member came up to me and called me a pillar novelist. He inquired how I was doing and I was splendid. I don't know how I couldn't be with such fabulous architecture and stained glass around me, with time to sit and enjoy and with a God so great and so awesome evident. I spent about an hour drawing out the view towards the great west doors. I thought about how our lives should be like that of stained glass - how our colors will only be illuminated by the light of Jesus Christ. Around 5pm, I finally decided to leave. Spending 5 hours in the York Minster made me feel a connection with the building. To the point ath I felt sad to leave. Like leaving behind a good friend that has shared so much with me and I with it. Sad to leave a place that has made no demands of me or I of it - we could be just be.

The York Minster at twilight.

The five sister's window in the north transcept.

South Transcept

Chapter house

Similar view as the sketch of the west end.

Sketch of the York Minster

Alarming

2008-08-06T23:38:00.000-07:00

After touring York, the group split to their different ways. I wanted to head somewhere to sit and breath and soak in a beautiful surrounding. The idea of just chillin' in a cathedral sounded awesome. As I arrived at the south transept, a couple of raindrops fell upon me. I could feel the air charged and guessed that there was a lot more rain to come. I was glad to enter into the sanctuary of the cathedral at about 5:30pm with an hour and 15 minutes to get back to a pub to join the group for dinner. Upon entrance I initially overwhelmed by the 5 sisters, a gorgeous wall of stained glass. Then I was just whelmed that I would have to pay the equivalent of $8 to enjoy the rest of the cathedral. I found a cool mirror table the seemed like a portal into a different universe (or at least the ceiling).

Instead of paying to go in, I found a little side chapel with chairs. I sat there for a brief while and soon heard the faint sound of torrential downpour. I love the sound, smell, taste, and look of rain (and sometime the feel too , so I went to the entrance to see how the people outside with dealing with the sudden gush of spray. Some ran through it, looking for shelter; others huddled where they could. Photographing what I could (with a good picture of an elderly man waiting by the entrance), I returned to my seat in the side chapel.

I copied down phone numbers from one sketchbook into another, hardly had time to consider doing a sketch when I was interrupted by a loud female English voice. "You're attention please. You're attention please! There has been a fire called and you need to evacuate the building." I sat there a moment in stupefied thought, and then joined the throng funneling out upon the wet streets. Fortunately the sky was only spitting a bit of moisture then. Fire trucks arrived, clergy members rush around a little bit, but 10 minutes later, everyone was allowed inside again. I heard something about the west tower, fire alarm, and pigeons. Then they opened the gates and everybody was allowed past. Awesome, just awesome. I was filled with a sense of wonder as I wondered around the naive. I was also filled with sense of rush, for I only had 20 minutes before I had to leave and that is not enough time to take in a cathedral. Once I left for dinner, the rain was again coming down in cats and dogs. Fortunately the pub wasn't too far away.

Portal

Elderly man outside waiting upon the rain.

Firetrucks responding to the emergency.

York Tour

2008-08-06T14:00:00.000-07:00

I don't remember the guide's name, but I do remember that he had a fun sense of humour and an entertaining way of telling the history of York. York was originally placed as an "overnight camp" for the Romans. It is a strategic location, placed between two rivers. By looking at the layering of the foundations, one can see the Norman influence, Anglo-Saxon influence, and Medieval influence. The original city of York is surround by thick walls with crenelated edges. A sharp portcullis (gate) stays up signifying the peaceful times that have come to York. York Minster's Gothic architecture peeks above the city around it. Whilst walking atop the walls of York and across the city, I felt a thrill of excitement to be walking upon and around so much history.

Solitude in the City

2008-08-05T23:30:00.000-07:00

Big cities wear me out. You're always going upstream. Everybody has their own agenda and place to go. People here, people there, people everywhere. Nature is either non-existent or fenced off. I hate being fenced off from nature. I desire to take part in nature, not be taken apart from nature.
These were the thoughts running through my head as I searched for solitude downtown London. The city doesn't understand the idea of solitude. Consulting my map, I finally found my way past busy intersections, football (soccer) games, and screaming children into a quieter section of London: St. James Park and Green Park. Though I found no place of stillness and solitude,I found a place below green tree where I entered my own place of stillness of solitude.

St. James park.

Senses in London

2008-08-05T23:00:00.000-07:00

Sound:
sirens of a police car, footsteps, children playing, traffic of motorbikes and double decker busses, a language I'm guessing is swahili, crunching of digestives, engine of a yellow duck tours boat, cellphone conversations, airplane overhead, quiet water lapping, strollers, keys, football players
Smells:
past rain, digestives, exhaust
Touch:
paper below hands, uniball pen, digestives in hand, cold damp bench below me, hard backrest, warm feet, slight chill breeze
Sight:

Historical Day

2008-08-05T22:00:00.000-07:00

I've had a crazy historical day. Gave my Illuminated Manuscript presentation today. I think it went well enough. Unfortunately the Lindisfarne Gospels weren't actually on display (back for restoration), but they'll be back after Oct. 2nd, so I'll see it one of our other 4 times in London.
I saw so much historical stuff today, it was overwhelming to the point that I had a hard time taking it in anymore. In the morning, I saw the Codex Sinaiticus, a Wycliffe Bible, the 2nd earliest copy of Hebrews 11:28-12:something, original Shakespeare, original Jane Austin, Lewis Caroll, Wordsworth, Handel's Fireworks music, Ravel's Bolero, Mozart and Beethoven originals, Captain Cook's Journal, and I don't remember all what else. Then in the afternoon went briefly to the National Gallery and saw paintings by Cezanne, Van Gogh, Monet, Hogarth (these paintings are hilarious, you should look them up), and gees I again can't remember all what else. Then went to Evensong at Westminster. I'll have to go back to the National Gallery and British Library again to take more in.

Pub

2008-08-04T22:00:00.000-07:00

Tonight, after a day London, group of us guys and our prof went to the Mitre to have a drink and share in conversation. As I drank upon a genius for the first time, we discussed life after college, life in college,and life through travels in the British Isles.
It struck me during this gathering how natural it felt yet how unusual this experience was. How often during my life have I shared a beer in a pub with one of my professors? Never before. It is an experience I look forward to enjoying more.

Throwin Down the Towel

2008-08-02T14:58:00.000-07:00

Alrighty, so these first 3.5 months of this blog are basically going to be devoted to my travels across the British Isles and the sounds, smells, and mainly the sights around. But even this, I believe, speaks of the glory of creation - humanity around.

So we arrived at the hotel room after a 10 hour flight and about an hour in the airport and metro. I'm in a room with 3 single beds. It was a warm day so the windows were open. One of my roomates forgot to bring a towel, so he grabbed one of the hotel towels. He then threw it toward his bed - the nearest to the window. Well, as you can see, it didn't hit his bed, and didn't hit the ground 3 stories below. This towel conveniently hung 1 story up, well out of reach. As far as I know, it is still hanging out there.
After this we went out for a walk around the streets and watched dusk gradiantly sweep over the city like a silent blanket.

Being in London has been so real that is almost surreal.

21 Things That I’d Like To Think That I’ve Learned

2008-05-30T00:17:00.000-07:00

Be prepared for the worst, but hope for the best.
Spend time listening those much older than you.
When dropping 1,500 bouncy balls in a girl’s hall at about 4am, it is preferable to not wake the RA.
Learn from anything and everything.
Stay true to your word and to yourself.
Listen more than you speak, (but don’t listen to American society BS).
Usually…don’t talk to girls about their body, marriage, or that you’ve just upgraded your level 15 Jedi to have a further light saber throw RPS after you beat the AT walker with your thermal detonator kit of destiny.
Live in rhythm, not a schedule.
Take time intentionally weekly (or more) for God and for yourself.
Share yourself.
Always love.
Don’t set a cup of milk - without a lid, right inside the door of your quad’s mini-fridge.
Find what your gifts are and pursue them with a passion. Know that they are gifts freely given you for you to give to others.
Don’t wait until you’re 21 to get your driver’s license.
Try to get at least 8 hours of sleep each night...at least try.
Don’t let temptation even move to get a foot-hold on you, because once it does, it’ll soon be on top of you.
Pray.
Be willing to laugh at yourself and laugh frequently with others.
Love others as you’d like to love yourself.
Love God with all you’ve got.

Blue Fog

2004-08-03T10:50:00.000-07:00

The blue door shut behind him as he prowed into the closing night sky.
Running his warm up on familiar back roads that lead to his secluded beach.
The fog belt had settled on Haystack Rock like a father’s hand on a child’s shoulder.
The dry sand was shelled by a layer of rainfall,
each footstep brought new sand to the surface.
Sand stuck to the soles of his feet.
Finally, hard packed sand came.
He picked up his pace speculating over the considerable low tide,
the abundance of murres congealed on their rocks and
footprints in the sand left by those who had come before.
Sweat, bird guano, and salt air.
He threaded through the rock gate that lead him to Crescent Beach.
Along he ran,
the sole soul meandering out into the night.
He ran past caves that scowled their black mouths at him,
past the quiet waves kneading the dark shore,
past rocks jutting into the blue fog.
Until the beach stopped:
wave against rock.
Turning to look for another way, a different path.
Steep embankments faced him one side,
the open sea on the other.
He picked up one rock.
A black stone rounded by the ocean that
fit his hand
fit his heart.
A memory of this night.
The night enveloped him as he returned back the way he came.
Mountains of trees reflected off the wet sand
his wave of footprints behind.
Unzipping the beach as he went.
He ran towards that unseen goal:
Haystack Rock,
hidden below the fog
between the gates he had once passed through.
After the water, and sand, and eternal stones,
his short time had passed as he returned home again.

Strolling Washington Square

2004-06-03T13:46:00.000-07:00

Smell of fresh tropical aloe, sound of soothing music resonating off high vaulted ceilings, tile floors with red circular patterns, soft mattresses, hard wooden benches, orphan teddy bears, bright color fashions on perfect plastic models, fake orange flowers, fluorescent lights refracting off a shifting silver Nordstrom box, mp3 players upon metallic stands, chocolate smoothies, neon signs blinking insidious statements, too much glass, no rocks, none steadfast, big sunglasses, new shoes smell, over-large advertisements, curved trash can lids, cool air flow, echoing voices, blinking lights, exclamation points. JC Penny, Meier & Frank, Radio Shack.
Stores floating, drifting, draining by.
Quantities, qualities, prices.
Everything shouting
“choose me”
“pick me”
“buy me.”

Manifesto: the mad photographer

2004-05-18T21:54:00.000-07:00

Manifesto: the mad photographer
May 18, 2004

Remember the rule of thirds.
Strategic lighting, composition, balance, triangulation, and exposure: find out what these mean. Focal length, apertures, ISO, and shutter speeds are priorities.
Stay on topic. Photograph cats and dogs, sunsets and flowers, rivers and beaches, people, and the sky.
Edit to perfection, correct every detail, and rub it to the bone. Then go to the next.
Aye, but I tell you this. Shoot something upside down, sideways, diagonal. Try photography mid-air.
Creativity, Originality, Imagination: do not conform. Put spiders on wine glasses, snails on beaches and cats with pumpkins. Have a tilted horizon. Make the world purple, green or orange, but please don’t make it white.
Photograph life.
Find interest in the mundane.
Let a child use the camera, listen to crows. Plant and water a sequoia. Take a solo trip to an isolated spot. Stop, and think. Live life with patience, peace and thoughtfulness. Ruminate about love, joy and hope. Hug a forest. Be alive with laughter.
Enjoy life with a passion and remember your Creator.
Believe

Clear Cut

2004-05-03T13:44:00.000-07:00

You ask me of chickadees and finches flitting through a golden wood. Of luminescent ferns and new sprung pines branching from a fallen alder. Of talkative creeks and steadfast rocks under the turmoil of time. Where we were, once, among these soliloquies of beauty.

Do you remember? Remember these times? Or is it only reminisce.
Snarling they came, loud in two ways. Big voices and silver sparkles, unjust chains, ruthless as hungry bears.

Foul oil surrounds us. Heavy feet surround us. Black clouds surround us.

They kill us, the dry-eyed children, knocking us down like weeds. They drag off our elders and there we lie, naked and forsaken, drying up in the clearing of time. Turning brown, and forgotten. And you ask.

Come and see the trees lie fallen.
Come and see. The trees lie fallen.
Come and see,
the trees, lie fallen!

Last 100 Meters

2004-04-19T12:49:00.000-07:00

All I want to focus on is the finish line but it keeps moving around like a roulette ball looking for a winner. My universe becomes a blur of frozen faces. Expectant, clenched, worried, and joyful faces. I smell cut grass wasting away on a torn football field, buttered popcorn whiffing from the concession stand, and burnt rubber smoking from my singed running shoes. I travel so slowly. Each step, an effort, each muscle straining for that golden tape, each exasperated sinew tightened, waiting for that final time, that daze spinning world, and the awaited accomplishment. Finish line.

7 Exquisite Corpses

2004-04-18T21:37:00.000-07:00

By Otto Sloof Ninegious b.1979

In Italy
tons
of great importance
wacked
an old man
darkly,
like a Mexican jumping bean.

On the lonely beach
flowers grow wild
as great men
throw
chaos
lovely
as moldy rotten sandwiches.

At the graveyard near Skyler’s house
6 pounds
of slimy lamps
read the warning labels on
the rocks,
half heartedly,
their lips red as a nose.

Inside my locker,
one thousand
salty fish
quickly
freeze rocks,
fearfully,
like a bat out of hell.

In Austin Texas
24
silly children
embrace
marsupials
particularly
like a piece of gum that you get stuck to your shoe, then you try to get it off with a stick, but it just gets all over the stick too, and eventually you get gum on everything.

Near a flowing waterfall,
ten thousand pounds
of scary rooms
walk
sunbeams
happily,
like vultures ringing doorbells.

In San Francisco, California,
in one minute,
the virtuoso pianist
will make love
cheesily,
awkwardly,
like the moon.

Quiet Rain

2004-04-13T21:44:00.000-07:00

The trunks we had lifted and backed to each other to hold out the light rain we had felt upon our cheeks. The rain increased and felt more cozy, eating brie cheese and Vinta crackers that smelled of wheat on the French coast with friends from home. It was a French cheese packed in circular cases: yellow and red were the flavors there. The adults drank foreign beer they’d opened with the silver leatherman from my Jan Sport bag. I had received that tool from a young friend who had left it at my house. I had found it with a piece of twine that held together red beads that glittered like morning rain. A gentle shower that fell on sailing boats, and lifted car trunks and friends eating cheese in the rain.

Gesture in the Hall

2004-03-15T21:43:00.000-08:00

Walking, strolling, strutting, gliding, dodging, jogging, running.
People.
Students, moving to chemistry, Greeks and Romans, or the library. Swinging wooden doors opening, twists of locks.
The “cunk” of the successful combination.
Smell of sweat, hints of perfume, mild odors of mildew and today’s greasy pizza.
Slams of small metallic doors and shuffling of papers.
Moving feet and moving mouths.
Black jackets and baseball caps with skating logos. Motocross t-shirts and babbling voices, with binders, books, and backpacks, weighed down by biology packets, Trig textbooks and portable CD players.
Anticipation of the bell and escape.
The blur of humanity fit in a cramped hallway.
I say hello to a gal I know. She just simply smiles.

Life Filled Air

2004-03-08T21:38:00.000-08:00

A flapping noise rushed near his feet. He jolted, it was just two sparrows scared off by the rustling of the glowing reeds. Pausing again as his rubber boot suctioned the mud, he gazed into the budding emerald forest. A creek trickled past auburn mud banks eroded from years of flow. Light shone through the ferns sprouting from old fallen alders. Skunk cabbage yielded their yellow shells. The woods smelled of bright green. He came upon the bubbling stream. The sun glinted off the water like off a warped mirror. Chickadees chirped and elderberry were just blooming.
It was spring.