Watch this.

Big Box & Maru

Stylish + Simple + Inspiring

It's photos like these that make you wish you had long, blonde hair and THOSE SHOES.
Photo taken by Scott, of course.

"Are you a Puma?"

I HAD to repost this from my friend Jim's tumblr.

Fun Fact

I will freak out and kick and scream and laugh and cry and fight you to the death if you ever try and hold me down and tickle my feet. FYI.

Song

I can't get enough of this song by Jordan Hardee.



I'll admit, it took some time to grow on me.

The electric guitar... you just have to hear it. Then there's this sweet groove about two.5 minutes in that is like, wow. "Come and wreck this ship with your love storm...come sweep us away with your holy ways..."

Then over and over he sings "set my mind on things about You; give me love for things You do."

The anthem of my life.

My latest painting.

2010. The very first day to begin again.

As I was reflecting on 2009 and re-reading some journal entries, this quote I'd written down by Henri Nouwen stood out to me the most, and summarizes so well how I see the step into the new year.

"To be grateful for the good things that happen in our lives is easy, but to be grateful for all of our lives - the good as well as the bad, the moments of joy as well as the moments of sorrow, the successes as well as the failures, the rewards as well as the rejections - that requires hard spiritual work.

Still, we are only grateful people when we can say thank you to all that has brought us to the present moment. As long as we keep dividing our lives between events and people we would rather forget, we cannot claim the fulness of our beings as a gift of God to be grateful for. Let's not be afraid to look at everything that has brought us to where we are now and trust that we will soon see it in the guiding hand of a loving God."

So on this new day, I step gratefully into a new year, a new decade. Unafraid to accept the fulness of my life story as a gift.



2010, here I come.

Quoted

"We must find each other."

-Mother Theresa

I thought this was beautiful.

But I can't remember where I found it.

bippity boppity boo

35mm

I've decided to post a few choice photographs from my childhood.

It all started with my dad's hairy leg and split 80's bathrobe.
Not really (cracking up at this photo! what in the world? what am I so confused about?).

Let me begin again.
It all began with a pink onesie.



From there, my love of eating (and sneaking bites when I thought no one was looking) began. Other than looking like a child of Spock, I'm loving my haircut & t-shirt here.



Once a cheesy smile, always a cheesy smile. (That's Ryan & Heather next to me.) And I want to know what's up with all of our mis-shapen diapers?



This one's my favorite. Just crazy! And I'm pretty sure I've had the same haircut since I was two.



Ryan would kill me if he know I posted a pic of him wearing a diaper on his head.

Gentry

This fellow's style is perfection.



I saw this photo today (compliments of you know who) and just can't get enough of it. I keep going back. So many flawless details.

#1, his haircut is just great. It sits atop his brow like a soldiers cap. Off duty, but ready for action.

#2, his jeans. The wash. The rips and holes. The mini cuff. The lengh.

#3, nice hands; enough said there.

#4, the t. Clean. Cuffs!

#5, his stance; even though he's not standing, he's at ease. It's like he was taken by suprise, but at the same time doesn't give a rats tail that his photo is being taken.

#6, he prefers a bike. That's just the cherry on top, isn't it?

I just love his look so much. But why? Mm, probably because it looks like he's not trying. That's key. In fact, that's HUGE. The most important. You lose it all when you try too hard. Effortless, but hits the mark.

Then (just now) I realized he's idential to my late favorite uncle, Gentry. Looks just like him! Tragically, my uncle died in a motorcycle accident when he was 30. But what I remember of him is beautiful!

He was my mom's only full brother, 2 years younger than her. He'd visit occasionally, and when he did, I preferred to ride on his back like he was a wild donkey. I was that little. I remember he'd light up a room when he walked in. He was tall and lanky, sensitive but hilarious, and would play harmonica on demand. When he was there, the volatile home I lived in was at peace.

Here he is.


(on the back of this photo, he says: "65 lb backpack with guitar, flute - small box behind my head - crawfish trap. Note: the fish hanging I caught him the first morning." hahaaaa. How can you not love him?!)



It's funny how you can miss someone you hardly knew, and even less remembered. But he is one of my only wonderful memories from when I was that age, and so I treasure those memories!

Fabrics make me so happy.

Gifts

I'd prefer to keep this simple and short.

WHY, oh why, do I strive for a thing which cannot be gotten by way of desire, hope, daydreaming or tears?

THING. Meaning: a confidant stance before the living God.

That thing, that promise, is a gift given to those who believe. If I believe it, that gift allows me to stand blameless and perfect before Him, to find my purpose in Him, and to find my end in Him.

And on that weighty thought, I'll end this post and go to bed.

Thought.

God doesn't respond to our need, He responds to our faith.

Just a few...

...of my favorite photos from The Sartorialist.

I would be honored to wear them all.

Fry Boots? Yes! Please!

Ten Thousand, my new favorite song, at least for now, by John Mark McMillan

Ten thousand glimmering like coals in our chest
Ball bearings drawn to the magnetic breath
Of ten thousand weeping with wings on their tears
Amidst ten thousand voices for ten thousand years
For ten thousand graves yawning unlocked and unlatched
Now ten thousand holes with rocks on their backs
Ten thousand tombs gaping wide singing the praise
Of ten thousand bodies unlaced and unlaid

As the ten thousand highways unfold their doors
For the ten thousand standing on Nineveh's shores
Where the blood of a husband silences wars
For the girl who rises to meet him
And she sings

World, I've overcome you
World, I've overcome you
World, I've overcome
By my song and the blood of a Son

Ten thousand rivers run red like my veins
Where the bones of men hum like a rattling cage
For sinew to cling to, for wind to remain
In ten thousand lungs for ten thousand days
Breathing like a choir of holes in the ground
Where the cynical have lain, where the cynical go down
Save the gravity of time, lets go of her drowned
Like ten thousand sparrows unlocked and unwound

As the ten thousand highways unfold their doors
For the ten thousand standing on Nineveh's shores
Where the blood of a husband silences wars
For the girl who rises to meet him
And she sings

World, I've overcome you
World, I've overcome you
World, I've overcome
By my song and the blood of a Son

I took some pictures today.

Gee-tar

My grandad gave me this guitar.
I have constantly sore, peeling, hopefully caloused fingertips.
Love to jam loud when nobody's home.
Shy when using a pick.
Love my instructor, Vinnie.
Want to kick butt at fingering, because it's so beautiful.
The goal: to write amazing songs, starting with one for my mom.
Secondary goal: coom bi ya around a campfire.