If I can make it there I'll make it anywhere

Last week I not only got some major thesis research in, I went to New York City all by my big girl self! Navigating New Jersey Transit and the subway made me nervous at first, but everything went fine. From the upper west side to Grand Central Station to Times Square, I visited three historic Anglo-Catholic parishes and fit in lunch with a college friend as a bonus.

Since I've settled on Episcopal vestments as my thesis topic, I'm rediscovering the pros and cons of using parish churches as a resource. It can be tooth-gnashingly difficult at times. There are no finding aids that lead to tidy cabinets of acid-free boxes. Clergy are super busy dealing with worship schedules, committee meetings, Sunday's sermon, and homeless people knocking at the door; they are not waiting at a reference desk to take your call. Even a church possesses antique vestments, they might not know what or where those garments are.

But when things finally work out, it's amazing. Priests may be busy, but they are also in the business of being kind to strangers. Once you get in the door, they love showing off the history of their church's building or the beauty of the rarely used rose vestment set. They'll unlock cabinets and make connections for you. At one point on Thursday afternoon, as an adorable Episcopal nun led me to an attic room where chasuble-draped tables sat in rows like a hospital ward, I remembered why I love being an historian.

Modernist Monday - with special effects by the moderator of the Church of Scotland

Yesterday while dipping into my roomie's Monty Python DVD set I discovered this hilarious fictional tv theme sequence. One could argue its design significance as an example of 1970s spy action film motifs. Also, The Bishop is wearing a pretty sweet cope with coordinating stole. You Tube wouldn't let me embed the entire sketch, but you can watch it here for even more sweet crosier smiting action.

Put a little splendor in your life

When I interviewed at my grad program over a year ago, one panel member asked the obvious ans tricky question of why I was applying when I currently was a full-time social work volunteer. How could I study antiques in a mansion when I was well-versed in urban poverty and infant mortality?
My response was that "there are two halves of me that have to co-exist, and that I try to reconcile."

That's still true. This past weekend in St. Louis was a much needed time to get in touch with my service half. It was great just to have fun with my wonderful posse of roommates and not worry about school. No one there got snobbish about furniture or made connections with noted scholars or played the "who is more stressed about school" game. Instead, we re-connected with people who were important to us and remembered the people we helped last year. Service requires humility and adaptability, and I like that.

On the other hand, I could feel my academic side itching to burrow into a book. For Sunday Mass we went to the cathedral on Lindell. I love that magnificent building so much I could just hug its marble columns. Sitting under the mosaic-covered domes and hearing the soaring organ, I remembered why I love the splendor of art and architecture and religious history. In that sacred space, I was just a drop in the ocean of magnificence and transcendence and Divinity and mystery. If my little thesis can help tell one story of how people experience God through worship, it will be worthwhile. Academia requires wonder and curiosity at how the world works, and I like that too.

Sometimes, rarely, the two halves work together. Like when I show the Urban Promise campers example pictures of great art. Louis Comfort Tiffany might not seem relevant to their inner city lives, but they loved his work. Today they oohed and ahhed at images of stained glass from churches and museums. A few even tried to replicate what they saw in their tissue paper crafts. In that moment, splendor and service combined. Everyone deserves some experience of awe-inspiring beauty, even noisy kids in a church basement.

Modernist Monday

Since I was in St. Louis this weekend, today's installment has to be THE ARCH. Designed by modernist master Eero Saarinen in 1947, it wasn't completed until 1967, after his death. Today it stands as a symbol of the city that is the "Gateway to the West."


After living in STL for a year, I feel like I have a relationship with this structure. It was pretty much love at first sight. Sleek, shapely, and shiny, this silver fox will win you over with photogenic good looks. My roommates have been known to greet him/her/it with a "Heyyyy Arch, lookin' fine!"

The arch is hands down one of the finest public monuments I've ever seen. It truly belongs to everyone in the city. Even if you're not at the riverfront, you can catch glimpses from tall buildings and highway ramps. I've used it as a directional beacon on many drives around town. One of my favorite views is heading east on Market Street with the Arch beckoning in the distance. It's a loyal and sturdy friend, always offering a greeting and reminding you of what a great city you are in.

Craft time update

I'm officially half-way through volunteering at Urban Promise summer camp. By now I feel like I've hit my stride and the kids know me. They constantly surprise me with their random questions and their artisitic creativity.

This week's projects, mosaics made of dried beans, was a big hit. For the first time the group stayed occupied almost until the end of the hour! Some kids made hearts or crosses; others did abstract designs of circles, etc. The older girls, who are approaching middle school and starting to exhibit teen herd behavior, got really elaborate with border designs and spelling out names of friends. One boy labored for half an hour on a portrait of his mom. A few kids got on a roll and blew through six paper plate frames.

I was surprised that barely any of the campers knew what mosaics were. I'm glad I could teach them something new. Visual aid pictures to pass around are always a big hit. Of course this week, I had to include a shot of the St. Louis Cathedral Basilica, which houses the largest collection of mosaics in the world. I hope I'll stop there this weekend, when my VSC roommates and I converge on the STL for a reunion!

Modernist Monday

Source

Ok, after my super-serious post it's time for something more fun. Today's selection is contemporary architecture. The Virginia Museum of Fine Arts recently finished a huge expansion wing, which my class visited on our Southern Trip a few weeks ago. The new building feels spacious, bright, and easy to navigate. The orange chairs make a great photo op too.

What can I say?

What can I say about Mel Gibson that hasn't already been said in the past few weeks? National media coverage has detailed how this former Catholic icon of family values fell from grace, betraying first his wife of over 20 years, and then his model baby-mama. Quotations reveal him to be racist, vulgar, abusive ... oh yeah, and misrepresentative of Church teaching on salvation.
Obviously, I could say how disgusted I am.

I could say how I once loved The Passion of the Christ, but after multiple viewings the intense gore is just sickening, not meaningful. Sure, Jim Caviezel and the Eucharistic paralells are still great. But it seems like violence is how Gibson explains the world in most of his films. For instance, over 4th of July I re-watched The Patriot. Like The Passion, it was chock full of hateful destruction calcuated to elicit shock, anger, and revenge. Seeing Gibson's character mutilate Redcoats with a tomahawk was not unlike the Roman soldiers in the infamous scourging at the pillar scene.
I could also say how this review, while ignorant and vulgar, is also fascinating. It shows how The Passion - theological context = confusion, not evangelization. The reviewer admits he "knows nothing about Christianity," but didn't leave with any better understanding of sacrifice and redemption. On the other hand, the film did teach him who Pontius Pilate was and made him ask some questions.

I could say that I want to spit on Mel Gibson's reputation and smack him in the face for disgracing his family and his faith. But then I read this post, with the phrase "Every Soul is a Battlefield." It's true, Mel Gibson is in a battle for his soul. He's fighting against his sinfulness, his inner demons, and whatever addictions or mental illnesses he may have. More violence and hatred won't cure him. Instead, I should do what the post's author recommends "be a brave heart and pray for him." That's what Jesus the Christ would have us do.

Up close in the kitchen

While I still miss Theodora the camera, I have to admit that my new little camera has good macro capabilities. There is even a setting just for food! This is a shot of my dinner on Tuesday - chicken tenders seasoned with garlic, coriander, and curry on top of Trader Joe's vegetable biryani. I'd like to think it's almost as good as the glowing shots on Gluten Free Girl.

I also tried a grilled porkchop recipe that I saw on the new TLC show Inedible to Incredible. The premise of the show is to replace horrendous home cooking with similar, but better recipies. I may have left my chops in the brine too long, I definitely need a better meat thermometer, and I don't know how I'll get the panini press clea, but overall this is definitely a dish I'll try again.

Introducing...Modernist Monday!

Even though I love things that are hundreds of years old, I also have a soft spot for modern design. Sometimes I think it's gorgeous; other times I think it is hideous but I can't look away.

So I've decided I'll post some modern design every Monday. To start here's a music stand model designed by Wharton Esherick in the 1960s. I've been on a field trip to his workshop and home in Paoli, PA, and it's amazing! It's like a tree house nestled in the woods, plus they let you touch all the furniture. What more could you want?

Summer challenges

I thought this summer would be the same as years past, racing from one event to another. The past month of travel has definitely been that way, but now I'm back at school and facing some new challenges. Things in Delaware are a little boring, and the silence is deafening. I haven't had this much time to myself pretty much ever, and the solitude frightens me. I'm used to having a crowd of siblings or housemates in the background making noise, not planning out in advance every time I will have contact with another human. Some of my classmates are also in town, but we don't have class or library reserve books to pull us together.

Hard as it is, I think this experience is going to be good for me. After a few days of moping around watching TLC constantly, I've started making time for things like daily Mass and even serious exercise. There are friends I desperately owe phone calls to. I need to learn to be an adult on my own terms.

I'm also re-assesing what I want from a scholarly life. Right now, the prospect of spending 8 weeks only with books and online databases is not exciting. Is this loneliness the same when you are writing a book or dissertation? If so, I don't want it. I want to talk to other people, belong to a community of scholars. Introvert I may be, but I am not cut out to be a recluse with 8 cats and a library.

Then again, finding friends is inherently harder when you've left the massive peer pool of college. Working in a cubicle or even staying home with babies can be just as isolating. Final verdict: the real world is scary.