I don't like the phrase "starving artist"

I went to a set from the DC Shorts Film Festival today. It was great. Sitting there made me question (for the thousandth time) why I ever thought I'd want to move away from film. Making films and watching films that you can see the passion behind makes me genuinely happy. There was a Q&A session after the showing with most of the directors/writers of the films we saw. I, of course, didn't ask anything but those who did asked about the things I was wondering myself so it wasn't all a lost cause. One question was asked about how the filmmakers funded their films. Although most of the them looked relatively easy to make on a low budget, there's still a lot you have to think about budget-wise - extras, meals, film, props, make-up, not to mention paying the people you have working/acting/editing for you. The filmmakers' response: loans, loans, loans. I actually groaned audibly.

But for me, oddly enough, I'm excited with the idea of being "poor" or a "starving artist" or whatever other descriptive word is used. Maybe it comes from how I grew up or maybe it's a longing to live more simply. I don't know, but I know that once I'm actually living on my own (whatever that means), the funds are not going to be simply rolling in. I'm going to be traveling the world and making films about the people I meet. Let's just say right now I'm very thankful for a friend who gave me a great editing software and saved me $200.

So this is the new year.

But unlike the Death Cab for Cutie song, I feel pretty different. I've learned more about myself and others - especially God - and there's so much that's been going on lately that I can't feel the same for that would be stagnant. But in some respects I am still very much the same. I'm still struggling to decide on what I will major/minor in (as a junior); I still see the world through the lens of a camera; I still can't ask questions, and the list goes on and on. But it's been an interesting process, this clash of life. To be in a completely (for the most part) new place but still the same person. To know that I can't cop out because I have a responsibility and a duty to stay true to.

Well, the first week of classes has come and passed, welcome week festivities are over, we had our first 60 degree day in DC (woo!) but things are definitely not slowing down. They're flourishing all over the place and it's so exciting! After waiting a long and tedious summer for this fall semester I am so happy that it's finally here but more than the excitement of every freshman on AU's campus combined, I am so beyond words with how God's been answering our prayers. Our first TNW of the year came with a full house. Tons of freshmen have gotten quickly involved with Chi Alpha (our campus ministry) and I'm making new friends right and left.

I am also a small group leader this semester. My co-leader and I are leading a study on women's identity in Christ. We both believe there's a lot that needs to be said and tackled in that and it's admittedly scary taking a topical study approach and not having a cut and dry chapter by chapter book study to go off of, but there's adventure in that and well, we're both pretty adventurous people. I am going to try to blog every week before/after our meetings. Don't hold me to it, though, but I really do want to try to commit myself to that because I want to make our discussions and findings available to others since I know that a lot of women's issues (especially Christian women) need to be brought up to the community's attention. That being said, I will never ever label myself as a feminist so I'm finding this all to be very interesting. We would appreciate it if you would pray for our group, btw. We meet Tuesday evenings at 8pm (and if anyone reading would like to join - feel free!)

So these are the two major things I wanted to talk about. This fall is like a sunrise to me. It was a long and hard summer filled with more patches of darkness and confusion than I expected, but like any good long winter night it is followed by a stunning display of colour and brightness as the sun surely rises again. Be brave little champion.

A jealousy for not of.

I don't really know if I've ever been the one to accept the metaphorical baton in life, I feel like I've always been the one to pass it on again. So here I am stateside while a good portion of my friends are abroad. I was used to being a spectator on many of their relationships with others, listening to the frustrations and the hopes they have for their friends but not ever going past that because there was never a need to. Now they're abroad and I'm the one behind and I have to ask myself if I'm going to accept the baton they've - possibly unknowingly - passed on to me. For any of you reading, I want you to know that I am accepting this challenge. We are in this together and this is not just one man's fight. When one falls back, another steps forward. If one leaves, another takes his place. I am developing a jealousy for the potential of people I never envisioned myself having an unforced one-on-one conversation with and it's strangely empowering. Jesus built up his disciples to be fishers of men, he left us here on Earth that we may spread his truth and love. This is not just our dream by chance, it has been intertwined in our very hearts. This is who we are and what we do. We are to worship the one true God and to spread his love - the very definition he uses to describe himself. It is so wonderfully simple and yet so, so important.

So I want to leave off with that reminder, mainly because it's nearly 2:30 AM and I'd rather not try to continue to develop my thoughts but I appreciate any kind of feedback, I'd love to discuss this further. Have a good time of day, all - wherever you may be.

Thoughts of an almost-legal adult:

At twenty-one years of age, I know what it means to be loved.

I know what it means to come home to a family,

and I know what it means to leave.

I know what it means to be a frequent flyer

but I have no backyard tree to come home to,

no tire swing in the garden,

no wall with my height annually marked.

I know what it means to pay my own rent,

I know what it means to upkeep an apartment,

but I don't understand just barely getting by

because I know what it means to have a safety net at all times.

I know how to order textbooks,

but I've yet to learn to sell them back again.

I know what it means to care about a grade

but I don't know what it means to not have an education.

I don't know how to count my blessings,

but I do know how to take things for granted.

At twenty-one years of age, I know how to make friends,

but I'm learning how to keep them.

I don't know what relationships look like,

but my childhood friends are finding spouses.

I don't know what it means to be desperate,

I don't know how to ask for help,

I don't know what it means to be broken and on my knees,

but I'm learning. Oh, how I'm learning.

At twenty-one years of age, I can't identify with the loss others unjustly experience,

but I know how to listen and I know how to care.

Yet I don't know how to talk, and I can't look inside.

I know how to follow and I know how to lead,

I know how to give up and I know how to leave.

What I'm learning most now is how to stay put

and how to stay grounded no matter how long;

to keep my heels dug in the mud and not to let up

even when it goes against my self-preservation methods.

A summer of change, a summer of growth.

My apartment has become my home.

Although the things I've collected since I was a child are currently in Dubai, I hardly have any memories in that house. The city holds no more for me either and I can't remember the person who once used to sit on her chest of drawers looking across the sand lots to the busy Sheikh Zayed Road - pre-metrorail - where the Emirates Towers stood tallest in the skyline. I have grown so much since then yet that girl is still in me. Somewhere.

My family will be officially renting the home we have in Virginia for at least the next year. This means everything must go. While we only spent a few summers in that house and didn't really invest in fixing it up and making it truly ours yet, I have gotten used to its familiarity and it was a comfort to know that it was there even while my family themselves were so far away. Now, I'll know it's there, but being lived in by someone else. The house will be empty to me.

So, my apartment has become my home. Now, I come home to the district after weekends spent gallivanting in New York City - which will be forever magical and an odd sort of solace to me - and retracing steps that my friends have taken away from their own homes.

This summer has held a lot of firsts for me. My first trips to different cities along the eastern coast; attending my first friend's wedding; my first time spending a summer away from my family and coincidentally my first summer with a place to keep coming home to. For all the pain and confusion this summer has brought me, I am ultimately grateful for it. As I can't recognize that girl from the make-shift window sill in Dubai, it's even hard to recognize the person who packed up 615 and moved into 202 only a few months ago.

The beauty of sound

In the 1970s, a Frenchman named Claude Lelouch made a short film called C'etait un Rendez-vous (It was a Date). He made it by strapping his camera to the bottom of his car and driving around the early morning streets of Paris. The film was shot in one take and is just under 10 minutes because that's all that his camera could hold. A few years back, Lelouch allowed the band Snow Patrol to use some of the footage from this film for a music video for their song, Open Your Eyes (off the album Eyes Open). I didn't realize that the footage was from a short film, I just thought it was stock from somewhere random but I just watched C'etait un Rendez-vous today and was struck by how essential a soundtrack really is to a movie. It changes your mood completely. In C'etait un Rendez-vous, the only sound you hear is whatever sound the car makes (and it's quite loud). You feel more stress than you do the calm of an early morning drive, which leads you to think that this driver must be very anxious to get to the person he's about to meet up with. In the video for Open Your Eyes, the nature of the song makes you feel something more of a longing to be with the person at the end of the film, something more dormant than a high-speed car chase through old Parisien streets. Anyways, I found it very interesting so I'd like to share that with you all. I've posted the links to both of the films below so you can experience the difference for yourself and let me know what you

A bientôt!

•C'etait un Rendez-vous

•Open Your Eyes

All this weird beauty thrown right at me

I keep hoping towards some end result that might not even be the right one so I forget the process. I see my current circumstances as means to an end instead of something I should be truly enjoying. I feel like I am entitled to more, yet I am not. I don't even deserve what I have now. Yet God is so good and so graceful. God's goodness is an overflowing fountain. With coke, not water. With manzanita sol and everything better. I am so quick to ask for more and so slow to be thankful for - and even to recognize - what I have already been given. I shouldn't try to commandeer the story God is writing for me, but I should learn to steer and learn to see and learn to thank him for everything He's given me now.

So this is me letting go and letting God. This is me moving on.

This is me with so much more peace than I've experience all year, to be able to look up and say "We have progress," instead of "Houston, we have a problem."

If you could see me, whoever I am.

This is me saying there is no excuse to not live to my fullest extent. I will worship while I'm waiting. Even while I'm waiting, there are still praises to be sung.

Life is truly a series of journeys. We never stop moving, we never stop searching. The moment we stop is the moment we've given up and the moment we've given up is the moment we die. Unless we vow to shut ourselves up in a closet for the rest of our lives, we have a new experience every single day. And even still, some children found a whole other world by walking through a closet once upon a time.

So here's to standing up and looking around. To really taking in the world around me, to seeing the beauty of life that has been placed in front of me. No more ignoring, no more passivity. I'll know my name as it's called again.