I hate Weasel so much right now...

Wednesday. 2:30 am. Finals Week. I WAS SLEEPING!

STOP playing what sounds like Nelly's "Grillz!"

kajdsvkajndlkanlkewnv (angry typing).

I'm waiting for Lauren to walk out of her room pissed off...

Happiness.

30-page paper, done. 4 presentations, down. 10-page image analysis, in the works. Classes, finished.
Whats left? Just a few exams.
I'm so happy right now I could cry, smile, dance, laugh, run a mile...or 10. This has been the most interesting and challenging year yet and I'm finally starting to feel a sense assurance about a whole mess of unknown.

I've experienced of lot of questioning and worrying this year. Up until about a month ago, I struggled with the decision to leave Clemson. I've been re-evaluating my beliefs, trying make sense of my faith in the "real world." I've worried a lot about where life is taking me, whether or not I will find success, and what exactly defines that success. I've always considered myself an independent person, but for the first time I've truly questioned this idea. I've done a lot of re-evaluating of who I am as a person and the person that I'm striving to be. At times, all of this has been hard to deal with. However, I couldn't be happier about it.

In the fall I'll be in Prague. I'm excited, but it will be a big change. I'm so fascinated right now about the inter-workings of other cultures and how they play a part in the grand scheme of our world; and I can't wait to study and learn from a unique culture. I want it to change me. I want it to challenge me and I want to come home with new ideas and thoughts to ponder and live out in my life. I certainly don't expect to come home this totally different person, but of course I want to acquire some new knowledge while abroad...why else would I be going?

Big things are happening, things we may not even realize. Looking back at my blog entries, I've talked a lot about the concept of change, the concept of an emerging, fast-paced society. It all may seem trivial and repetitive, but I find the concept so great. I like the fact that you can't really wrap your mind around it, it certainly gives you a constant discussion topic. It is one of the rare concepts that bind us together with the rest of the world's peoples because we all experience it. It's something that can make a person so upset, yet in the end, make a person so happy and so thankful. It is a constant teacher of lessons. And to be cliche, it never lets you down.

As is typical, I'm not sure what I'm going for here. I guess in my perfect world, no one would be be okay with remaining stagnant. We would all be striving/thriving for/on change. We would converse with others. We would desire to know more. We would never just take things for as they are. We would try to make things better in this world, not afraid of failure. That just as the world itself orbits the sun, we as its inhabitants would be part of the movement. I don't want anarchy. I don't want chaos. I don't not want people to preserve their relationships. But I don't just want a standstill. Because in the end, how much fun is that? In my opinion, not so much.

Last Day.

The day before that of my birth. Is it weird that I'm apathetic about it?
I have an urge to do something rebellious on my last day as a teenager. Looking back on these years, I'm having trouble thinking of any real acts of angsty teen rebellion I took part in:

Age 13: I went through a rap phase; refused to participate in Easter egg hunt at my house, or talk to the camera on Christmas; lunch detention with the rest of my class because everyone was talking.
Age 14: Still refused that Easter egg hunt or to talk to the camera
Age 15: Kissed a boy I wasn't dating; came home at 1am from Lauren's house (after "curfew"); my dad let me drive the car around a cull-da-sac without a license; silly-stringed the freshmen on our soccer team
Age 16: Fell asleep a few times during ASII
Age 17: Went to the dining hall with a few other camp staff members after lights-out to get food
Age 18: My friend pierced a third whole in my ear at camp (which I took out three months later)
Age 19: Visited the Newry Mill with some friends, which apparently is a "No Trespassing" zone, even though there are no signs (we didn't get in trouble though)

Wow, that's a pretty sad list if I were to ever, for some unknown reason, try and convince some one I was a rebellious teen growing up. I guess it's a good thing though. I like it that way. What can I say, I had nothing to rebel against.
Well, I'm going to go light a car on fire. (Seriously, kidding).
Let's see what my 20s bring about, shall we? Ahhhhhh my TWENTIES!?!?

Just Music.

I'm happy to report that Brett Lesher is the most humble musician I've ever met. Incredibly sincere. Down to earth. Connects with his audience. I like my artists this way.

I wish I was in a band. Then I could be in cool pictures like this:

Bishop Allen

Or maybe it's a band photographer I'd like to be? That would be equally fun.

Christine Fellows. My new favorite minimalist.

By Force or by Choice?

I think there was most certainly a time in our world's history where there was a sincere intrique in the spread of Western Culture. Western culture was inventive and progressive... "bettering the world one technological advance at a time." The Westerners were producing great works of literature, encouraging the formation of democratic societies, and finding success in wars. We were the elite, by many's standards, especially the United States, one day waking up to find ourselves looking down at the rest of the world's nations. Many nations wanted our support, our trade, our lifestyle. I think we eventually reached a point where we began to take this intrique, this choice of other nations to emulate us, for granted.

All of a sudden, it's as if somewhat of a cultural intolerance is forming...we actually began to believe that we were right and everyone else was wrong. Democracy was the only path to political and essentially economic success. English was the only scholarly, sophisticated language one could speak. And once this mentality sank in, I believe there was a change from choice to force in the spread of Westernization.

The truth is, China will never be a true, democratic country. Their roots are in Confucionism and Taoism, where concepts such as peace and harmony are highly stressed...two concepts one could say are pretty much nonexistent in democracy.

The Middle East will never see the end to fighting until the Palestinian-Israeli conflict is resolved.

So what can we actively do to solve world problems as a leading world power without forcibly trying to spread our Western ideas? The hippi response would be to somehow find a way to promote cultural tolerance on a global level. But while I'm a firm believer in such tolerance, I know that it is an unrealistic approach. Too many variations of people in the world. Too much bad blood. Too many conflicting opinions and ideas.

So I ask again, what can we actively do to solve world problems as a leading world power without foricbly trying to spread our Western ideas?

I have absolutely no idea.

Images Ever True.

"It's interesting...because in my culture, we hold images in such high value."

Last Thursday, I found myself standing on the balcony, overlooking the sand mandala in the library. I was explaining to a boy about the dissolution ceremony the monks would perform on their image the following day. After working almost non-stop for three days, they would dismantle the mandala and cast the sand into a nearby body of water. According to the monks, the dismantling symbolizes the releasing of the deity. The casting of the sand symbolizes the "impermanence of all things and the importance of non attachments." And further, when the sand hits the water, the "kindness and compassion of the deity are disseminated into the world to benefit all things."

Okay, so I'm by no means an expert on Tibetan Buddhism, but something really struck me about the monks' presence on campus, as well as the construction of the mandala. My surface-level intrigue came simply from what they were doing. The tools they used. The variety of colors. Their already-memorization of the image's structure and design (there are numerous types of mandalas, and monks often have several memorized, if not all). Its three-dimensionality. The intricate details. The careful and alert energy they had to put into its construction. All these elements, woven together, somehow just awed me. Plus, I got to try for myself and it is incredibly hard.

I guess too, once again, I stood face to face an American culture I'm finding harder and harder to be proud of. For instance, last Tuesday, I asked the one English-speaking monk how long he had been constructing mandalas. His response: "Oh, many many years." My response: "Awesome." Awesome? Really Kelly? You just said awesome to an old, wise, Tibetan monk? He didn't seem to think anything of it, but upon leaving the site I could only shake my head and silently laugh at myself.

Secondly, Kristin saw the monks walking across the library bridge on Friday, specifically mentioning how slow they were walking in comparison to everyone else; that they were walking at at least half the pace as those surrounding them. Even in something so simple as a walking speed...the difference in Western and Eastern culture. Upon hearing this, I thought back to the monks' quiet, almost serene, nature that I had witnessed over the past couple of days, when checking up on their progress. It was a sharp contrast to the American norm we see around us everyday.

I'm not quite sure if there is a specific lesson I'm trying to get at here. It was just refreshing and real; and for some reason, gave me some feelings of contentment. It's just nice to have new outlooks and experiences every now and then. Keeps life interesting.