Dancing By Myself

I've already mentioned that I never went to my senior prom, but since I grew up in a fundie home, I was never really allowed to do any type of social dancing as a kid, period. When we were in that cult (from my ages 4-17), there were elaborately choreographed dances that were performed (because the cult leader liked that cultured stuff like ballet and classical music), but none of us kids ever got to go to a regular school dance, unless it was maybe for proselytizing purposes.

Nevertheless, there was always a dancer in me, and when I finally broke out of my fundie surroundings, I embraced my inner dance with exuberance and abandon. Granted, I couldn't do a foxtrot or a simple waltz or anything related to swing dancing to save my life. In fact, any type of dance that required a partner was not within my realm of possibilities. I remember being on the dance floor w/ my girlfriend when we were probably not even 21, and she asked me in an exasperated tone, "Can't you just dance NORMAL?!" I remember thinking to myself, "Like, WHY would I wanna dance NORMAL??!!"

So why am I bringing all this up? Well, I'm reading a book right now called The Dance of the Dissident Daughter by Sue Monk Kidd (author of The Secret Life of Bees, one of my favorite books of the past couple years), and there's stuff a-stirring in me.

While I've considered myself a feminist for some time, I've never fully examined or even admitted my wounds derived from being born female in a male-dominated society, and especially growing up female in a male-dominated church tradition. It's easy for me to gloss over and just forget about, now that I go to a church pastored by a woman, where most of the leaders are also women, or now that I'm in a non-traditional household where I, the wife, am the main breadwinner, while my husband takes care of our child and keeps house.

And yet, there is a defiance taking shape inside of me. I'm two-thirds of the way through the book, and there is a rumbling in my soul, the sound of an avalanche in the distance gaining speed and momentum. I don't know when the rumble will be a roar deafening my ears, and to be honest, I'm hesitant and afraid.

I think this one's gonna take a while to unfold.

I haven't danced in a long time. At least not my wild dance, the dance that comes from within, from the deepest part of myself, that dance that is mine and mine alone. Maybe that dance will emerge again. I hope so...Because I don't EVER want to "dance NORMAL."

Coming Up For Air

This is usually a quiet time of the year for me at work, but something came up that's thrown me into temporary busyness resulting in working while on the train, through lunch, at home, in the middle of the night, etc, and that's put a serious damper on my ability to post here. So here I go again with the random thoughts/updates and random photos.

Remember my voluntary simplicity mantra for the year? Well, it's the end of May, and I feel like I've gotten nowhere with that. I feel really pathetic saying this, but I think it would take an intervention like getting on a Reality TV show to get my butt in gear in terms of purging and decluttering our lives. But it's not just the physical stuff. It's my mind that needs decluttering too.

I find that I simply rush through my day, seldom taking time to notice the little things, such as these delicate flowers on the side of the pavement, these little encapsulations of purity and beauty. I don't take the time to breathe in deeply, or to quiet myself, or to connect to myself, let alone God or those around me. I wonder what it would take to change that?

So I was in the dining room the other day when I heard Cadence's voice coming from her room, saying, "Oh please don't go! We'll eat you up, we love you so!" I grabbed the camera to capture this photo of her "reading." It's the first book that she's taken to reciting, and now she walks around our home saying in the same cackly voice I use, "...And they GNASHED their terrible teeth, and they GNASHED their terrible eyes, and they GNASHED their terrible claws..." She apparently really likes the word GNASHED. It really tickles me so that she loves this book so much, because she is most definitely My Wild Thing, and that's what I love so much about her.

Speaking of Cadence, she's been under the weather the past couple days. She doesn't get sick very often, so when she does, I tend to get a little bit anxious. It hasn't been too bad so far. Just some head congestion. She tried to nurse yesterday morning and just couldn't breathe so she gave up. She later made a comment that I was "empty" and that she just couldn't do it. That made me wonder if that's how she'll self-wean, as my supply continues to dwindle, and it gets harder and harder for her to get a let-down. She must be breathing better by now because she was able to nurse last night and this morning, which I'm glad about because I prefer her to get as much breastmilk as possible when she's sick so I can pass on my antibodies.

Ted's been busy brewing up all kinds of beer. We've had lots of it in kegs lately, which is a whole new way of drinking homebrew. For those who know the joys of drinking draught beer, especially really good draught beer, you can believe that this is probably one of those no-turning-back experiences. For Ted, at least. I only drink the foamy part (and you sure can get good foam when you can control your own carbonation in a keg).

In case you haven't noticed, for the past couple months, the only shoes Cadence will wear unless cajoled otherwise are her black sparkly ballerina flats. She wears them to church, to the park, to the grocery store, to the children's museum, to the library, to the cafe, and yes, when she's driving in her little car. Needless to say, they're starting to fall apart. I finally took her shoe-shopping last night, and she INSISTED on a pink version of the sparkly shoes. Then I showed her a little less showy pair of floral canvas ballerina flats which she agreed to buy instead, and I convinced her to also accept a pair of gender neutral black canvas slip-on sneakers for the playground.

When we got home, however, she said some stuff that kind of gave me pause. She said something to the effect of "I'm a girl, so I like these shoes [meaning the flowery ballerina flats]," and she expressed less enthusiasm for the black gender neutral sneakers. As I've mentioned before, we're trying hard not to raise a little princess who will be looking for her prince in shining armor to "save" her. This is something I feel strongly about because when I was a young girl, I wanted to be a photojournalist for National Geographic, and my mother told me women don't do things like that. I know I shouldn't get too worked up about it, but it scares me how quickly this whole gender socialization thing happens.

Oh, I forgot to mention that I had a post up on Shutter Sisters last Sunday. You can read all about it here.

Also, one of my photos from 826CHI's prom was picked for Gapers Block's Rearview for Tuesday May 20th. My friend Justin saw it and told me about it. That was kinda cool.

Alright, I think that's enough for now. Happy long weekend everyone!

Random Thoughts

I've been really busy at work, and with last weekend's packed schedule, I have to admit I don't have much to offer on this here blog o' mine. My thoughts are all over the place lately. Excuse me if I fail at molding this here post into some semblance of coherence. This is where random thoughts come in. And random photos.

Sometimes, I get really tired of feeling like we're doing it alone. Living, parenting, being. I have this yearning to live in community w/ folks, to raise each others' kids, to grow our own food, to cook for each other, to play cards, to sing old hymns in 4 part harmony, to make art, to share books and CDs and sofas and cars as well as the occasional cup of sugar and eggs. I can't be the only one who feels like this. But how you get started on such a paradigm-shifting project? I have no clue...

As much as I love my boss and am treated well by my current company, I can't help feeling uneasy being tied down to a corporate job. Yes, it pays the bills and enables Ted to stay home with Cadence, but I don't think I can do this for the rest of my life. I have thoughts of doing photography professionally, but I'm afraid of two things: 1) not getting enough business; and 2) becoming bored with photography.

Do you know what one of my pet peeves is? Christians who think Jesus is gonna bail us out of the mess we made, so "oh, well if the rest of the earth is going to hell in a handbasket as long as we get taken up to heaven before it self-destructs." And what the hell is heaven anyways? I don't think it's gonna be one big eternal hallelujah surrounded by streets of gold and harp-strumming winged creatures. I rather like how the theologian and Anglican bishop N.T. Wright talks about heaven.

I'm still reading Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States and it is still kicking my butt. You can read some of it online here if you want to know what I'm talking about.

And then there's Cadence. She sure is something. The other day at church, our friend Matt J. held out his hand for a high five. Cadence responded by giving him her FOOT, sparkly shoe and all. Oh, and that would be the Sunday on which the first thing she did when we got to church was to pee in her pants. Of course that had to be the day that I forgot to pack an extra pair of pants. She ran around the church in her underwear and thought nothing of it. Still, she's a neater eater than I am (which isn't saying much). I just have to remember the time when the sight of Cadence peeing in the toilet unassisted was a mere fantasy and be thankful for the progress she's made so far. Now I'm fantasizing about her pooping in the toilet instead of her underwear...That day, too, shall come, I'm told...

The reality is that I'm watching my baby, who is no longer a baby or even a toddler, grow up before my very eyes, and my heart panics just a wee bit. I have no idea what to do about school. I'm afraid to put a ball of such unstoppable energy into a classroom environment, but I don't know (or am afraid of) what my other options are. I'm convinced that despite the noble intentions of many teachers, the majority of schools these days are designed to spit out conformist drones, and I can't resist rebelling against that.

Alrighty, then. I think that'll do for random thoughts. I've got more rolling around in my head, but I'm tired of typing and being awake.

Three Thoughts Thursday #6

#1—I've been wondering how the digital age will affect the long-term memories of the babies and children of today. Take Cadence, for example. She's had just about every few days documented for her since birth, and that's pretty lazy on my part compared to some of my more dedicated photog friends who document their kids every day. Does this mean that she and her friends w/ equally photo fanatic parents will retain MORE long-term memories when they are older than we in the older generation have managed to do thus far?

I've mentioned my own loss of memories before, and I can't help thinking that if my parents had taken more photographs as I was growing up, or if I had taken up photography seriously as a kid rather than after grad school that I'd remember so much more. Like how many snapshots from their everyday life growing up do most people my age own? Maybe a bunch of baby photos—the new born shot, the embarrassing naked bath shot (which my mother dug up for my mixed-company 14th birthday party), messy eating shot, first step shot, etc.—and a few at holidays and birthdays until one reached the age of bershon, at which point our parents gave up trying to take our photos or they stopped being interested in preserving the moment for posterity, considering the cost of film and processing.

Aside from these pictorial cues, we are dependent on our diaries, school records, and our memories, which over time become like the shifting sand--changing details here, covering up entire segments there, uncovering little tidbits here, washing away portions there.

But I'm not talking about aging folk like myself. I'm talking about the kids that will have so many special and mundane moments preserved for them that they could quite possibly remember everything. What will happen then? Will their brains explode? Or will the human brain adapt to this sudden increase in use of hard drive space? Will it affect other brain functions? Will there be less forgiveness if there's less forgetting?

One of my favorite documentary series is the UP Series, which follows a group of British youth every seven years from the time they are 7 in 1964 up to the present, the most recent being 49 Up just released a couple years ago. Ted and I watched the entire series over a few days, and it was quite fascinating to watch these kids grow up literally before your very eyes.

With blogs and online photo communities like Flickr, that's kind of what we're doing now with each others' kids and lives. I've been on Flickr since Cadence was 7 months old, and I've watched so many other kids her age or a little older or younger grow into toddlerhood with her. I wonder what these kids will think about all this when they're older. I've heard of a columnist for a newspaper who often wrote about her family being asked by her son to stop writing about him because he was tired of total strangers coming up to him and acting like they knew him because they followed his mom's column. Will Cadence feel the same way? I guess I'll have to ask her one of these days…I don't know what I'd blog about if not her, so that may be the end of my online life then.

#2—Speaking of blogs, I've been really busy lately and feel like I'm not spending enough time reading up and commenting on you peoples' blogs. I'm actually doing more reading than commenting, so I am TRYING to keep up. I wish we could get together at a local coffee shop and just chat face to face. Yes, I realize I type much better than I chat (I suck at the chat, actually), but I feel the need for real and tangible relationships. Not that online relationships are not real—some of them have been the most rewarding and helpful to me. I guess what I'm trying to say (really badly, I might add) is that all you folks who come visit over here mean a lot to me, and I'm grateful for your friendship and I WISH y'all just lived in my neighborhood so we could hang out (and you could babysit Cadence once in awhile since y'all think she's so cute). So here. This is a virtual hug from me to you: <= =>

(Lori, can't wait to see you next weekend!)

#3—I think I may have to go out and find me some paht-bingsoo this weekend. That would be the perfect way to start the summer off right! If any of you Chicagoans are interested, let's meet up at Outdoor Café on Bryn Mawr!

Tell Another Joke At the Ol' Choppin' Block

We had our first chance to taste the fruits of our labor this weekend with the first delivery through our CSA, Scotch Hill Farm. Oh, the yumminess! It really DOES make a difference to eat produce that's been locally grown and freshly picked.

And just in time for our first CSA delivery, I took a knife skills class with Dave and Becki at The Chopping Block Cooking School in Lincoln Square. It's no secret that I am a disaster in the kitchen and in need of some serious help. I can't tell you what a source of shame and embarrassment this is for me, considering Ted comes from a family that has some mad kitchen skillz. One of the things we want to do w/ our CSA delivery (which we're sharing w/ Dave and Becki) is to cook a meal together regularly with our goods. Sort of like Slowfood, I guess.

I wish I could say that the knife skills class bestowed on me some actual knife skills. Unfortunately, the muscle memory apparently can only kick in if you actually use the muscles involved in the skills. That would mean lots of practice for me.

I foresee a lot of stir-fry in our future...