This is the second letter I'm posting in this series, here's the first. I'm writing a little string of letters to one of my engaged friends for her to open when she needs encouragement. I labeled the envelope of this one "for perspective and inspiration".
Hey babe—
Here's two quotes I love, that I've connected to each other and to your life right now:
"She felt happy from her head to her toes, and she looked up at the sky with a feeling of gratitude that was almost a prayer."
"Prayer is the contemplation of life from the highest point of view."
The first one is from a fictional novel by Maud Hart Lovelace. I love the idea that it's okay—beautiful even—for our feelings to be almost, not fully, a prayer. That's just how it is sometimes! The quote on the right is from Emerson's Self-Reliance.
I like these together, because they express the validity and importance of two very different moments—very different types of moments I bet you're having a lot right now.
For the first—this is a happy time! Full of logistics and details and planning, but all about something beautiful! But when you aren't feeling this beauty, the second quote is best. Choose prayer, perspective, to look at things from the highest point of view.
But what I love about the two of them together is that they both point up. I will lift up my eyes to the hills, Psalm 121. The reason you can say no to stress is because your wedding isn't about all these details—flowers, food—it's about pointing up. Christ will be glorified, despite and through the details.
Love always,
maddieperkie
Monday, October 31, 2016
Recommendations: Florists--Sprout
A few weekends ago, I walked into a tiny flower shop and said, "Hi. My name is Charlie. I'm a blogger, and I'm writing about florists in the Birmingham area. Can I take a few pictures of your space and ask you a few questions?"
They get their flowers from all over the world. Although this makes sense, and I bet most florists do the same, I didn't realize that until I asked. Although they're small, they partner with many places around the community. They do bouquet classes at a candy store in Edgewood, they donate to fundraisers and charities, and they work with wedding photographers and planners to help brides find everything they need.
Luckily for me, Faye was the lady behind this magical little storefront, and she treated me like a queen. Here's the low-down on what I learned!
Sprout has been around for about two years. It's located just down the street from Edgewood on Palisades Blvd.
They get their flowers from all over the world. Although this makes sense, and I bet most florists do the same, I didn't realize that until I asked. Although they're small, they partner with many places around the community. They do bouquet classes at a candy store in Edgewood, they donate to fundraisers and charities, and they work with wedding photographers and planners to help brides find everything they need.
The space is just crowded enough to be certifiably cozy; I'm sure that brides have a blast sitting on their couches and dreaming up their wedding flowers.
Their walk-in flower fridge is accessible to the front of the store. Faye lets customers go in and choose their own stems any day of the week, and when they've done this, the customer can take them home to arrange themselves, or Sprout will do it for them.
 |
| The walk-in door by the seating area |
Sprout does it all. I left impressed, knowing that they could handle any size order, yet also happy, knowing that they would know and care about me as an individual customer. I think this closeness is one of the perks of a smaller business. I wish Sprout all the best as they grow and expand, and they'll achieve this through the way their love of flowers matches their love of their customers.
This love was evident as I spoke to Faye. When we began our interview (I'm calling it an interview to make myself feel fancy and official), she was telling her son goodbye, and their relationship was so sweet. As I asked her about beginning Sprout two years ago, she spoke with enchantment about her love of flowers. When we were in the walk-in, she leaned over, plucked one of the longest, most beautiful red rose stems I'd ever seen, and said, "For you."
This attitude is the defining quality of Sprout. Flowers, for you.
Recommendation: Boyhood Movie Review
I watched the movie Boyhood a few years ago, and it did to me what few other movies do—it made me immediately go write about it after I finished. Here's a few scattered thoughts I wrote down. Before you read them, let me just say that I recommend the film as a film, not as a pick-me-up or good laugh. It's very much a story about reality. Also, if you haven't watched it, this analysis probably won't make sense. Stop reading, go watch the film, then come back if you'd like to see how your thoughts match mine.
Central Question: Purpose of Life. The film continually shows a search for reason. The reason the mother's worst day is when her son leaves for college is that her kids had been her purpose. If they're gone, what is her purpose now?
Sam's toast almost embodied his future, in that she's the half who has experienced what he's heading into. She says nothing in her toast of his past or theirs together, and all she can master for the future is a "good luck," as if she knows there's nothing new or different there.
Familial Progression: The discomfort attended with the initial disagreements between the mom and dad changes as first the mom gets a new husband, who is bad, then another, who she also loses, then the dad gets a new wife. The progression seems natural—isn't expansion and wanting someone new and better natural—but is also subliminally unnatural, for after more abuse, drunkenness, and step siblings, the resulting size and shape of the family is not what they were seeking.
Slow progression of innocence lost: When the boy is little and looking through a lingerie magazine, I initially responded a little bummed that they'd put that in there. Then he's thirteen and camping out, and though he stands up for nothing, it's ambiguous just how much innocence he's lost. He begins drinking and kissing, and by the end of the movie he's done the latter to excess, and smoked, and done drugs. But it happened slowly. What does this say in relation to the movie's title? Is this boyhood, or the loss of it? Is this proscriptive, or descriptive? The movie also shows the parents' reactions to this when he's come from making out in the back of a car and sneaks inside during a dinner party. He admits to his mom that he drank and smoked a little bit. Her slight shock and perhaps chagrin is almost blatantly interrupted by a proclamation that it's just become his fifteenth birthday. The juxtaposition is stunning.
Mason: Well, what about Mason, our main character? Does the film exhibit a search for purpose, or does it seek to answer that with his "seize the moment" adage? This saying is aptly reflected by his photography habits. Is seizing the moment the answer to the purpose question? Isn't this what the film sought to do—seize each moment of Boyhood?
Brokenness: The film is so full of it. The film isn't condoning it. It's not saying that it's how people should act, but it's saying that his is how people do act. Does it leave it at that? Well, on the other hand, it doesn't seem to condemn it either. So is the movie a search for purpose in a world that's messed up?
As I type this up and read back over it, I realize that this was one of the first times that I saw brokenness so fully portrayed. I didn't experience much of this firsthand growing up, and I think this movie actually was one of my first exposures to many of these themes. I remember pervasive sadness filling me when I saw him making out with the girl in the back of the car—seeing the grunge and the seeking and the darkness. It's interesting for me to think about, and I see it reflected in my final, inconclusive thoughts at the end of my rambling review:
"The film doesn't carry redemptive themes, and I certainly wouldn't say it honors Jesus, so what is its good? I guess I think it was a really good search film."
I like this because it hits on something I've been thinking about a lot recently—standards for interaction with media in light of the lines between art and porn . . . I talked about that a little bit earlier (Messay: Life These Days), and it's something I think I'll always be interested in. I like that, then, because reading over this reminds me of places I have been in relation to this issue in the past.
Central Question: Purpose of Life. The film continually shows a search for reason. The reason the mother's worst day is when her son leaves for college is that her kids had been her purpose. If they're gone, what is her purpose now?
Sam's toast almost embodied his future, in that she's the half who has experienced what he's heading into. She says nothing in her toast of his past or theirs together, and all she can master for the future is a "good luck," as if she knows there's nothing new or different there.
Familial Progression: The discomfort attended with the initial disagreements between the mom and dad changes as first the mom gets a new husband, who is bad, then another, who she also loses, then the dad gets a new wife. The progression seems natural—isn't expansion and wanting someone new and better natural—but is also subliminally unnatural, for after more abuse, drunkenness, and step siblings, the resulting size and shape of the family is not what they were seeking.
Slow progression of innocence lost: When the boy is little and looking through a lingerie magazine, I initially responded a little bummed that they'd put that in there. Then he's thirteen and camping out, and though he stands up for nothing, it's ambiguous just how much innocence he's lost. He begins drinking and kissing, and by the end of the movie he's done the latter to excess, and smoked, and done drugs. But it happened slowly. What does this say in relation to the movie's title? Is this boyhood, or the loss of it? Is this proscriptive, or descriptive? The movie also shows the parents' reactions to this when he's come from making out in the back of a car and sneaks inside during a dinner party. He admits to his mom that he drank and smoked a little bit. Her slight shock and perhaps chagrin is almost blatantly interrupted by a proclamation that it's just become his fifteenth birthday. The juxtaposition is stunning.
Mason: Well, what about Mason, our main character? Does the film exhibit a search for purpose, or does it seek to answer that with his "seize the moment" adage? This saying is aptly reflected by his photography habits. Is seizing the moment the answer to the purpose question? Isn't this what the film sought to do—seize each moment of Boyhood?
Brokenness: The film is so full of it. The film isn't condoning it. It's not saying that it's how people should act, but it's saying that his is how people do act. Does it leave it at that? Well, on the other hand, it doesn't seem to condemn it either. So is the movie a search for purpose in a world that's messed up?
As I type this up and read back over it, I realize that this was one of the first times that I saw brokenness so fully portrayed. I didn't experience much of this firsthand growing up, and I think this movie actually was one of my first exposures to many of these themes. I remember pervasive sadness filling me when I saw him making out with the girl in the back of the car—seeing the grunge and the seeking and the darkness. It's interesting for me to think about, and I see it reflected in my final, inconclusive thoughts at the end of my rambling review:
"The film doesn't carry redemptive themes, and I certainly wouldn't say it honors Jesus, so what is its good? I guess I think it was a really good search film."
I like this because it hits on something I've been thinking about a lot recently—standards for interaction with media in light of the lines between art and porn . . . I talked about that a little bit earlier (Messay: Life These Days), and it's something I think I'll always be interested in. I like that, then, because reading over this reminds me of places I have been in relation to this issue in the past.
Messay: Candy Bar Reflections
I wrote this in 2014, but it's fitting for Halloween night. I struggle with overeating; here's something I wrote in response to that.
I swallowed and flattened the wrapper in my hands. I suddenly realized, with light feelings of carnal satisfaction and forced frustration, that I had eaten a candy bar.
Now there's nothing wrong with candy bars, but the candy bar wasn't the only problem. It was the candy bar with the ice cream with the party food with the piles of homemade chex mix. It was the fact that I had not sided with self-control. I had surrendered four battles. I had been challenged to a mind game and lost to my stomach.
My will is weak. I want to be a better dancer, I want to maintain my weight. But I fight my appetite's arguments with fragmented syllogisms and give up before my mouth stops watering. I lose. I am a loser because I let myself lose. I am conquered.
More than a conquerer? The shiny silver inside of the candy bar wrapper reflects only a glutton. My self-control, my death to sin, sits buried under a rank pile of fat I have knowingly, excitedly, spinelessly towered up. A poor reflection, which may soon be reflected in a mirror.
But where can I get self-control? Galatians 5 says it is a fruit of the Spirit. 1 Peter invites us to add it to our faith, goodness, and knowledge. Spirit, please help. Getting better at self-control is like improving at anything—it takes practice. Practice does not mean perfect. It also does not mean hungry or unhappy. Practice means progress.
I'd like progress. Spirit, You see my inordinate and irresponsible desires. I want to be holy. I want to be obedient, disciplined, self-controlled. Please, I ask, sanctify me.
I swallowed and flattened the wrapper in my hands. I suddenly realized, with light feelings of carnal satisfaction and forced frustration, that I had eaten a candy bar.
Now there's nothing wrong with candy bars, but the candy bar wasn't the only problem. It was the candy bar with the ice cream with the party food with the piles of homemade chex mix. It was the fact that I had not sided with self-control. I had surrendered four battles. I had been challenged to a mind game and lost to my stomach.
My will is weak. I want to be a better dancer, I want to maintain my weight. But I fight my appetite's arguments with fragmented syllogisms and give up before my mouth stops watering. I lose. I am a loser because I let myself lose. I am conquered.
More than a conquerer? The shiny silver inside of the candy bar wrapper reflects only a glutton. My self-control, my death to sin, sits buried under a rank pile of fat I have knowingly, excitedly, spinelessly towered up. A poor reflection, which may soon be reflected in a mirror.
But where can I get self-control? Galatians 5 says it is a fruit of the Spirit. 1 Peter invites us to add it to our faith, goodness, and knowledge. Spirit, please help. Getting better at self-control is like improving at anything—it takes practice. Practice does not mean perfect. It also does not mean hungry or unhappy. Practice means progress.
I'd like progress. Spirit, You see my inordinate and irresponsible desires. I want to be holy. I want to be obedient, disciplined, self-controlled. Please, I ask, sanctify me.
Tuesday, October 25, 2016
Letters: Encouragement to my Engaged Friend
One of my dear friends is engaged. She's in the stressful planning phase right now, where you just realize how much work it is to plan a wedding, so I'm writing a set of notes for her to open whenever she needs encouragement. Here's one of them
Hey—
So I was trying to think of a “different-y” type of encouragement (you know me—always trying to be contrary), so I’ve decided to compare you to something wonderful to remind you of how wonderful you are.
My first idea was to compare you to a KitchenAid mixer, but I realized that’s not as magical an item to everyone as it is to me. But you are efficient and hardworking and absolutely wonderful, so there’s that.
Then I thought of comparing you to a flower bouquet—so many different complimentary strengths, loved by everyone, undeniably beautiful—but then I thought you might be at least a little tired of wedding-themed details.
So, at the risk of being eponymous, I have decided to compare you to a letter. The outside is happy, but the inside is even better. Aesthetically solid, refreshing to whoever it comes in contact with, and absolutely going to be loved for a long time. The real value comes with what’s inside. The inside is encouraging, honest, fun, and, if it’s the best kind, it speaks truth. You, dear, are most certainly the best kind. You are all of these things, and of course even better than a letter because you are sentient—alive by the Holy Spirit.
You’ve got this. I love ya.
maddieperkie
Sunday, October 23, 2016
Messay: Life These Days
I'm pretty sure this won't qualify as a messay. But it doesn't fit under any other category, and I don't want it hanging out in the world wide web without a categorical home, so I'm putting it here.
It's not a messay, it's more of an update. On my mind, and my life, and what's been going on that I haven't shown on here.
Things I've Been Thinking About:
Music, specifically the fact that I've been listening to Hamilton and Chance the Rapper, and in the past I've had a zero-tolerance rule on explicit music. This shift has caused me to think about my standards. the discussion seems to have resolved into a theoretical exploration of the lines between art and porn.
Writing, specifically I've been working on my book every day. Which is exciting because I'm writing every day, and calling it a book, and who am I to do either of those things. But it means that a lot of my processing has been on paper, and not this blog, sorry.
Societal Lines, specifically my general confusion over how I can be friends with some people and not others. I try to figure out if I'm not friends with people because I'm not situationally around them or because there's actually something disparate in our levels of interaction that prevents us from being friends.
The Church, and stances it actively and passively adopts that harm its mission field. I'm going to be honest, I believe in natural selection and evolution, but I don't think that proves false in any substantial way the Genesis account. The church engages with the issues of homosexuality and abortion, and is disappointed when our government supports these things, but I don't think it's the government's job to legislate morality. I think if these are legal, it's not a failure of the government, but of the church.
Friends, specifically wondering how many people I can effectively be friends with. I tend to over-diversify, and hang out with like twenty people once each over the course of three or four weeks, but this doesn't seem to be working as well as I may like, because Jane has shown me by example that depth is better than breadth, so now I'm trying to pick my friends, and I think it's hard and annoying, so I'm still trying to figure that out.
Food, and how I can make it a big part of my life. I love the grocery store, and my soul jumps when I see baking accouterments, but I also regularly struggle with gluttony and overeating, so I'm trying to figure out where the line between these things is, and where the joy is polluted by my overindulgence. This is complicated by living in a dorm room, which necessitates living where my food is. I'm sadly in the habit of snacking every time I come into my room, so that's problematic.
Success, and what I need to be doing, and if I should just be a waitress and a baker and a writer-on-the-side, or if I need to participate in what people tell me is some great intelligence that I have, that I seem to have spent lots of money cultivating by coming to college, so I'm wondering what to do about that. money? or nah?
I think that's good for now.
happy sabbath, love you guys (you invisible readers. thank u for listening to me)
Charlie
P.S. Clarity to come soon (aka like March) on my identity crisis, which probably would confuse you if "you" even existed. **UPDATE YAY NOW WE KNOW THE SUMMER SHADOW!**
It's not a messay, it's more of an update. On my mind, and my life, and what's been going on that I haven't shown on here.
Things I've Been Thinking About:
Music, specifically the fact that I've been listening to Hamilton and Chance the Rapper, and in the past I've had a zero-tolerance rule on explicit music. This shift has caused me to think about my standards. the discussion seems to have resolved into a theoretical exploration of the lines between art and porn.
Writing, specifically I've been working on my book every day. Which is exciting because I'm writing every day, and calling it a book, and who am I to do either of those things. But it means that a lot of my processing has been on paper, and not this blog, sorry.
Societal Lines, specifically my general confusion over how I can be friends with some people and not others. I try to figure out if I'm not friends with people because I'm not situationally around them or because there's actually something disparate in our levels of interaction that prevents us from being friends.
The Church, and stances it actively and passively adopts that harm its mission field. I'm going to be honest, I believe in natural selection and evolution, but I don't think that proves false in any substantial way the Genesis account. The church engages with the issues of homosexuality and abortion, and is disappointed when our government supports these things, but I don't think it's the government's job to legislate morality. I think if these are legal, it's not a failure of the government, but of the church.
Friends, specifically wondering how many people I can effectively be friends with. I tend to over-diversify, and hang out with like twenty people once each over the course of three or four weeks, but this doesn't seem to be working as well as I may like, because Jane has shown me by example that depth is better than breadth, so now I'm trying to pick my friends, and I think it's hard and annoying, so I'm still trying to figure that out.
Food, and how I can make it a big part of my life. I love the grocery store, and my soul jumps when I see baking accouterments, but I also regularly struggle with gluttony and overeating, so I'm trying to figure out where the line between these things is, and where the joy is polluted by my overindulgence. This is complicated by living in a dorm room, which necessitates living where my food is. I'm sadly in the habit of snacking every time I come into my room, so that's problematic.
Success, and what I need to be doing, and if I should just be a waitress and a baker and a writer-on-the-side, or if I need to participate in what people tell me is some great intelligence that I have, that I seem to have spent lots of money cultivating by coming to college, so I'm wondering what to do about that. money? or nah?
I think that's good for now.
happy sabbath, love you guys (you invisible readers. thank u for listening to me)
Charlie
P.S. Clarity to come soon (aka like March) on my identity crisis, which probably would confuse you if "you" even existed. **UPDATE YAY NOW WE KNOW THE SUMMER SHADOW!**
Sunday, October 9, 2016
Messay: Sun Shower
I wrote this about a month into my freshman year of college, a few days after I didn't get a bid during recruitment. The moment it describes remains one of my favorite life lessons.
I saw that it was raining outside, so I opened the window. A contradictory impulse, perhaps, but one I nonetheless engaged in regularly. There is no weather more glorious than the rain; on Saturday I had returned from a retreat and was alone in my room trying on a new ballgown skirt that'd come in the mail, when all of a sudden a storm began. I immediately flung up the window sash and stuck half my body and a good portion of the billowing skirt out into the weather. The wind whipped my hair and my skirt and, framed by red brick, I looked absolutely glorious to the empty sidewalk below. "Rain," I thought to myself, "is a lovely thing."
I saw that it was raining outside, so I opened the window. A contradictory impulse, perhaps, but one I nonetheless engaged in regularly. There is no weather more glorious than the rain; on Saturday I had returned from a retreat and was alone in my room trying on a new ballgown skirt that'd come in the mail, when all of a sudden a storm began. I immediately flung up the window sash and stuck half my body and a good portion of the billowing skirt out into the weather. The wind whipped my hair and my skirt and, framed by red brick, I looked absolutely glorious to the empty sidewalk below. "Rain," I thought to myself, "is a lovely thing."
Today's rain was different, though, different from any rain I could remember. Shafts of wet light fell from the sky, the sidewalk sprouted water spots, and the sun shone shadows. It was this last part that baffled me the most, for though the rain looked like sparkling spiderwebs stretching from heaven to earth and the earth seemed to dampen of its own accord, I found the collision of sun and rain to be the most extraordinary happening in the moment.
I continued to stare. The sun continued to shine, the rain continued to fall, and, I am told, though I'm not sure I believe it, the earth continued spinning past my window's opening.
But I was not involved in that madly spinning world, for as I sat still on my side of the sill, I saw in the open window a reflection of myself in the world outside.
College had seemed so odd up to now, and I"d been unable to figure it out. Why were friend situations so bad but seemed about to turn good and school so good but seemed about to turn bad and my family absent but I wished they were present and negativity so present but I wished it would be absent and I knew why life was different but I didn't know how to adapt to this change.
But God opened my eyes when I opened that window. In an experience completely new to me, rainfall and sunshine peacefully coexisted.
In my life till then, I had seen only sun or rain, times were black or white. Here, they collided, however. Yet they did not mix to gray, because the Sun shone light.
I knew that life needed balance, but here the Creator had visually played it out for me, letting me visualize what I already was and would continue to be experiencing. He'd shown me what I hadn't seen before and encouraged me that if my life was like that weather—a harmonious collision—that it was a new and beautiful phase. He had created it, and I didn't need to be afraid.
written 9/1/14
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