IAM encounter

Here's the first glimpse from my trip to New York City to participate in the IAM Encounter. Actually I should clarify; I didn't take many photos, so there won't be much more to see, but I have another art entry in mind from visiting the museum that will have images I didn't make. John is the one to thank for nearly all of the photos that ever show up on here...I get wrapped up in conversations and things with people and forget all about the camera. Thus, these images all come from the time I spent alone in the city. But this is a long digression!

So first, here's a link to IAM (International Arts Movement). In a nutshell, it is an arts organization that seeks to have substantial conversations about art and faith and promote the making of art that "re-humanizes" the culture and world around us. It's grounded in Christian faith, but tries to have the conversations in language that lets everybody participate, knowing that God is not limited to working through people who follow Jesus in changing this world.

The Encounter has been an annual point of gathering people together. We sit and listen to all kinds of people from a variety of professions (this time we listened to poets, fiction writers, a scientist, a priest, a philosopher, an actor, a film script writing expert...you get the idea), experience some pretty incredible performances and generally have an opportunity to participate in some sort of collaborative visual art display. Breaks and meal times are great for meeting people and talking through what we're learning or what we're doing creatively in our own world.

This is the second time I've attended. I thought I'd give you a few of my favorite "quotes" from the time. Let me just say that the quotes are pretty approximate. I'm sure I missed a word or two! Nonetheless the idea is clear.

From Mako Fujimura (IAM founder):
"Artists, you are rich, not poor, in creativity to heal this poisoned culture." (poisoned meaning things like de-humanized, devoid of things true and beautiful)

From Li Young Lee, poet in an interview talking about writing/finishing a poem:
Lee: "But then my ego comes in and says 'That could be better...'"
interviewer: "Doesn't your ego ever tell you that it's good?"
Lee: "No. I got the bad one. But it's just as bad as the other one that's all puffed up."

From Bobbette Buster, script writing expert:
"[Imagination] saves us all from pain and suffering that we might have had."

From Nigel Goodwin, actor (and a bunch of other stuff) talking about ministry:
"When you love people, you don't need bridges."

I think they will be posting podcasts of the lectures on the IAM site sometime in the near future so you can listen for yourself and verify my quotes. :)

And then I just have a couple of things I delighted in seeing. So much is on a grand scale in NYC. These are both parts of huge window displays at Anthropologie and the Lego store.


Lastly, I highly recommend this video - a great example of the multiplied impact of collaborative art-making. The Johnny Cash Project Just hit "watch the video" and then play. You can find out tons more about how it's made (or participate) on the site.

nia

I would think the photos in our blog make it evident (if you didn't already know) that our dog has long played a huge role in our world. We've never forgotten that she is a dog and not a person, but we have fully enjoyed letting her be our great companion.

She died on Sunday. We're pretty heartbroken.

If you look back at some photos, you can see we went through quite a production to bring her here with us to Germany. I imagine for some people it's easy to wonder why - why all that hassle for a dog? And an aging dog at that. I have so many thoughts... but I think I'll tell you a little about her, and then maybe it will make a more sense.

I did a one-year Masters Degree program in Boston 9 years ago. The program was demanding and I was lonely. My favorite break from paper writing in the spring was researching dog breeds and dreaming about getting a dog someday. I actually sat in a group with my course cohorts and told some visitors one day that my goal after finishing this program was to get to a place in life where I could have a dog. Jaws dropped a bit, as this was Harvard and the stated goals of my colleagues to do doctoral work, research, establish new programs and such were far more "appropriate". Somehow I just couldn't help but say exactly what I felt. I did explain a bit more that it reflected having passed through a challenging stretch of time personally and a longing for some sense of being established (they were a little less shocked, but still not impressed).


So when I decided to job hunt from my parents' home the following summer, I asked if I could get a puppy. Maybe it's backwards to get a dog before you have a job and a place to live, but I was pretty convinced that if I kept waiting for the perfect set of circumstances, I'd never get a dog. It was about a recurring theme for me - taking action in my own life instead of playing victim to it.

I named her Nia in response to that year too. My internship was in an afro-centric youth program, and there I learned several Swahili words and their meanings. Nia means purpose. Somehow something in me is wired to get distracted or to feel a little lost in the grand picture of life. I don't really understand why. I never question the Lord's presence in my life or His faithfulness. I trust Him. But I think my brain just generates way too many ideas and possibilities, is so filled with this kind of inarticulateable undercurrent that drives me towards believing that life is supposed to be extraordinary and there's amazing potential all over the place, that I get a bit indecisive out of fear of seeing any of the possibilities die. Okay, a lot indecisive. I just know I end up feeling a bit lost. I named her Nia to remind myself that no matter what I feel, I am not without purpose; the Lord always has a purpose and intention with my life. And I'm not alone. The companionship of this dog was to be a reminder to me of the steady presence of the Lord and his purpose. Maybe that's an awful lot of theology to pin onto a dog. :)


Nevertheless, I found an ad online for puppies that would be ready by the end of the semester. My dad checked them out for me in advance, and I remember walking home the day I had told my dad to go ahead and put down my deposit on Nia. Anxiety - this big wave of fear of the commitment I had just made. 10 years is a long time, right? Maybe not really so long after all. I certainly would never have imagined on that day where I would be when her life was done.

John and I started dating while she was still a puppy. He joked that it was like dating somebody with a kid - always having to plan around letting her out and feeding her. Nevertheless, he was smitten with her too.


I worked hard to train her, knowing that what was cute in a 20lb puppy would not be cute in a 100lb dog. She was going to be stronger than me; I needed to teach her who was in charge before then. When John and I got married, she wasn't quite sure he was the boss - so we put her through a couple of weeks of "alpha bootcamp." It did the trick, and she respected/adored him as the pack leader ever after - which makes me think of some of the things we learned from her. She trusted us - completely. And all she ever really needed and wanted to be reassured - or even just to be content - was to be with us. The way she sacked out completely and snored at night when we all went to bed...total confidence that the alpha was on duty and she was safe. I couldn't help but think of the spiritual parallels, knowing I could feel just as safe in the presence of the Lord.



So much personality - and quirkiness - to that dog! She won lots of people over pretty quickly. We actually met a few people who knew of us because of her - they had seen her in action at our place while we had a dog sitter. "Oh you're the ones who have Nia!" She had dazzled them with retrieving various toys by name - which for her was totally worth it because she got so much love and attention. She was terrified of water and metal grates on the ground, carefully treading around manhole covers, utility covers and puddles. As a small puppy playing with my 4 yr-old brother, she paced herself to only run just fast enough to make games with him fun. We were amazed to watch her instinct as a herder when some friends came to visit with lambs -- and when she decided she needed to separate certain dogs away from others when she had more than one playmate. So smart. So sweet. So eager to please. And such a companion...following me from room to room, reaching up to nudge my hand from time to time on walks, beside herself with joy to greet us when we came home - even if we'd only been gone 10 minutes. She remembered anyone she ever met, making them feel like a million bucks when she greeted them. A number of people let us know they'd love to take her if we couldn't take her to Germany. She loved kids and kitties - bathing them both in kisses they weren't so sure about.





Such a great dog. The apartment feels pretty empty and quiet. I miss my morning big hugs from her and the sigh after bedtime when she finally situated herself and was about to fall asleep.




So she leaves a big hole in our world. We've learned that the antidote for what weighs our hearts down in most situations is gratitude. It applies here too. It doesn't make us not miss her, but it does lighten it a bit. The night she died, as we were going to bed, exhausted and feeling the huge empty place next to the bed, John began to pray for us. He sweetly thanked the Lord that the vet had been so kind, that the Lord had made our choices about her clear and for all the years we got to enjoy her. I am grateful. The Lord gives good gifts.

a day in Freiburg

Last Saturday we where greeted with clear skies and "warmer" weather. We decided to take advantage of this time and spend the day in Freiburg.