10 out of Tenn tour.

Some members of my house church and I headed up to the Orange Peel in Asheville Tuesday for the 10 out of Tenn tour. Started by musician Trent Dabbs, the show features 10 emerging musicians from Tennessee (mostly from Nashville)- all of which help play one another's songs while on stage. We've talked a lot about the concept of "community" at Paloma and this couldn't have been a more brilliant example of such. Laughter, togetherness, encouragement, and

friendship (all mixed in with incredible talent) beamed from the stage- and by the end of the night I couldn't help but smile myself...wanting in on their fun, but also out love for watching their excitement for one another's music.

And of course, being with my own friends, and enjoying the evening, was equally thrilling.

with k.s. rhoads

alcatraz.

he didn't just make a creepy movie about killer birds...

he was highly insightful too.

"If you are lucky enough to travel when you're young, everything you see becomes a part of you on which you can draw all through life" - Alfred Hitchcock

It's Botanical.

Love these gardens, even with their lack of funding.

Save the SCBG!

(seriously, though)

Helpful Hint.

Heather told me this at work this other day-

When you wash your hands, don't rub them dry with a paper towel. Instead, pat them dry. This locks in the moisture from the soap and makes your hands nice and smooth. This probably is nothing new; however, I was unware, so I thought I would share. Try it- it's lovely!

to market to market...

I rose with the sun this past Saturday morning and ventured to the First Saturday Greenville Market downtown. My friend's mother sets up a chocolate stand at the market, so it was a good time for her to visit with her mom and an opportunity for me to experience the market for the first time. While I expected to find more stands, it was a pleasant morning nonetheless.

I enjoyed watching the support for local businesses, as people bought produce, fresh flowers, drank coffee, listened to music, etc. I walked away with a massive thing of peaches for $3 and a small bottle of honey (couldn't resist the cute elderly couple I bought it from).

inspired by words read.

During the harvest time, I become encircled in a gust of leaves. An unexpected rush, I titled my head up to the sky, anticipating the discovery of its origin. However, I quickly reminded myself that I was not among trees, but rather along the path that paralled the grassy field. As my head came down to face the earth, the colorful mess grew tired of circling me and instead danced its way into the clearing. As if its purpose was to render me curious, I was compelled to follow. In an instant, my heart's desire met body, as my feet diverged from the path and into the open space. Free from restriction, I began to sense the vastness of my surroundings and eventually lost sight of the traveling leaves. I halted and kept silent. The air was then still-not even the faint whisper of the carrying wind. The tall grasses were surprsingly soft under my fingertips as I moved slowly over each individal blade. The sun shown down, but did not swelter; instead, its heat spread equally across the field, causing a soothing warmth. At peace, I laid myself down on the yielding earth, to once again gaze up at the sky. I desired to know the farmer who planted this space- who as an artist, blended all that was naturally beautiful and alluring to the soul, and created the masterpiece that was now my haven. Could he know the extent of his talent? Could he know its effect on the mind and soul? And could he know my presence? Was he the keeper of the leaves that bid my entrance in the first place?

I am left to rest, and believe it so.

j.j.

"Towards dawn he awoke. O what sweet music! His soul was all dewy wet. Over his limbs in sleep pale cool waves of light had passed. He lay still, as if his soul lay amid cool waters, conscious of faint sweet music. His mind was waking slowly to a tremulous morning knowledge, a morning inspiration. A spirit filled him, pure as the purest water, sweet as dew, moving as music."

beautiful.

go away sleep.

The night train whistle blows and I am back at my kitchen table.

HašLerky mug avec tea by my side. Irish tunes in my head.

I'm coming to anctipate these quiet early morning hours that have frequented me over the past week. Reading assignments have been in excess, and while these are nowhere near enticing, I like where my mind goes during this time (aside from rhetorical theory and discourse).

It pushes toward clarity, replenishes me with clarity, in fact--much like the early autumn wind that has replenished my lungs over the past few days.

The past month has unveiled a unique beauty found in quiet times and quiet spaces. The art of being still has never been easy for me. I've always prided myself on being an adventure-seeker, one who stands fearless against change and movement. But without the stillness I currently find myself in, so many aspects of my life might escape me. I mostly think of the people- the various communities and small circles I have drawn close to during this time. I also think of the opportunities I have had to expand my "artistic scope..." allotted time to read, paint, take photographs, etc. And most importantly, the chance to regroup spiritually.

Ironic though that in this stillness, there is still movement.

A lot actually.

Much is happening and forming before my eyes, despite the fact that everything seems to be in "fun size" form for the time being.

Then again, I have an incling that these "smaller creations," these smaller movements, will evently evolve into something bigger.

Until then, I attempt to sit quietly.

...at least I have HašLerky to keep me company.