Michigan's Upper Peninsula

my hipster shoes. even though i'm really not that hipster.

covered road, near houghton.

lake superior, au train.

lake superior, au train.

lake superior, munising. 

of transitions.

Last night, I had a dream that my Fulbright Grant was approved and I was hours away from boarding a plane to Bosnia.  I was teary as I hugged family and friends, nervous about the life that awaited me.  I woke up with a start, disappointed only to realize that I was still stuck in this snowy state.  But it got me thinking.

There are some major changes coming my way.  A possible trans-Atlantic move or a relocation to New York or DC looms on the horizon.  Add a graduation to the pile, and my life is full of transitions.

But I have this fear.  Until today, I thought it was a fear of actually going away from home for longer than two months. However, seeing the world and living elsewhere has always been a life-long dream; I am not afraid to see and experience things.

This afternoon, in the hallway, I saw a professor I've worked with in the past. We chatted for a few minutes and before he left, he asked when I was graduating.  I replied, but It was his response that really got me and revealed the root of my fear.  "Wow," he said, "be sure to stay in touch."  And that's when it me.  I'm leaving my professors, these classrooms and the books.  In a way, it seems that my identity as a student was leaving me as well.  But is that really true?

Being a student is my identity, it's who I am.  Writing research papers, conducting statistical analysis, critiquing papers and debating with my colleagues is what I do best.  It's an identity I have developed over the last four years and one that I am reluctant to give up.  But I'm realizing that my identity as a student really won't change on April 29, 2012.  The classrooms will.  I won't have the same professors.  My classmates won't consist of the same individuals.  But the learning never stops.  The books I have read and the relationships I have established thus far only enable me to be a better student in the future.

So I say, bring it on.  There's nothing bittersweet about graduating, only the happy thoughts of a limitless classroom at my doorstep.


(Oh, and I can't wait to reread this someday, when I'm forty and grading a stack of papers. I only hope I'll have the same optimism and enthusiasm for life.)

screaming is okay, you know?

wednesdays are usually my favorite.

 i get to do statistics all morning.

 and then meet with a favorite professor to discuss and debate such topics like the European Union, immigration policy, migration, foreign languages and loads of other wonderful things. truth is, i love academia. and i love where it’s taking me.

 but today was different. my professor is more like a mentor; she pushes me in my weak areas and makes me an academically stronger person. i am eternally grateful for her advice. but we talked about the future for the umpteenth time today. “you have lots of options, choices and decisions.” and that’s when the blanket of doom and despair descended.

 pushing the heavy wooden doors out into the open air, i was greeted with a rush of cold air. it was overwhelming, just like the decisions i have to make. all of the applications i must fill out and the essays i must write. it can be very trying at times.

and so as i drove back home, i rolled down my window and hollered out to nobody and everybody. the wind carried my cries across the crimson tree line and up into the endless gray sky. i’m sure someone thought i was crazy, but it felt good. did it remedy my situation? did my decisions magically morph? nope. but it felt good. and maybe the occasional scream is keeping me sane. it’s tough, you know, making a transition to the RealWorld after eighteen years of school.

Ch-ch-ch-changes!

In case you couldn't tell, my blog has changed a bit.  I've wanted to give my blog a slightly different feel lately, so I ditched the single column.  I like it.  My blog feels cozy now, if that's even possible.  The only problem?  Many of my past photos are slightly too big for the column widths.  I'm in the process of trying to switch over five years worth of photos, but it's difficult. (And I betcha didn't know I've been blogging here since 2006!)  I have temporarily taken down many photo posts as I attempt to fix this, so I'm sorry for any inconvenience.

The future holds many changes for me, some of which I've alluded to on this blog.  In addition to photos, I'm hoping to incorporate more of my writing (because in case you didn't know, I am a writer by day).  Many of my photoshoots will still appear here; however, I'm hoping to utilize my facebook page more.  I'll still post an image or two here, but you will find the images over there.

For now, I'm back to working on the following:

• forty-page paper on immigrant identity formation in Europe.
• an analysis of this book.
• a critique of this book.

Have a happy Saturday!

today, there is tea, sunshine and relief. my future is now in the hands of the state department.

The beginning of the end.

Four years ago, I embarked on this thing called college.  I had no idea what it really was.  Heck, I could barely understand the difference between a bachelors, masters or a doctorate!  Originally, I was supposed to be in music school and aside from a few english and math classes, I expected to live with my flute and piano for the duration of my undergraduate degree.  Cough, sputter, choke. That's obviously not what happened; God clearly had other ideas for my life.

For starters, college has taught me that life doesn't always go as planned.

I didn't graduate when I should have. I should have been done this past spring, but my diploma will read 2012. I've just been telling people that I love school that much.

Graduation day aside, when I DO receive my diploma in April, I will be a "sociologist". What's a sociologist? I will commit an academic sin and quote wikipedia:

"It is a social science—a term with which it is sometimes synonymous—which uses various methods of empirical investigation and critical analysis to develop and refine a body of knowledge about human social activity."

Didn't get that? As a sociologist, half of it's blabber to me as well, so don't worry.  Essentially, when I walk across the stage at convocation, I'll be a sociologist who is certified in observing people (aka: creepin'), conducting interviews (qualitative sociologists, holla!), surveying the masses (quantitative sociologists, I don't know how you can stand this stuff) and then some. I'll be educated, or something like that. A far cry from music school, no?

But ya know education-schmeducation aside, I've learned some other random, yet valuable, lessons:

Professors make mistakes.
You will forget to submit an assignment (and you will survive).
Class gets canceled every great once in a while.
Three jobs sometimes suck your spare time.
Somehow, you find time for extra curricular activities (like literally running yourself dead by participating in cross-country).
Sometimes you transfer to another school.
You don't receive the grade you thought you deserved.
Your major changes once or twice (or three, four and five times).

The doors I once was scared of are now familiar (I really hate the squeaky doors).  That intimidating professor?  Yeah, she's writing my letter of recommendation.  The borderline psycho professor I swore I'd never see again?  Um yeah, about that. She's my boss now. Those unfamiliar faces?  We're friends.  And today marks the beginning of the end of all that.  I didn't expect to encounter any of it, but it happened and now it's going to end soon.  And it's bittersweet.  College wasn't so scary after all.

the kind man.

I know of a man who lives not too far from me. As a youngster, he towered over me, like the two large oak trees that stood parallel in his yard. Yet he had the gentlest eyes, the kindest smile.

He would stoop down beside me, to the crazy swing, we go, he'd say. And with the shove of his hand, I would glide in crazy circles, round and round.

When we tired of the crazy swing and our eyes fell droopy, he'd gently lift us, to the hammock he'd built by hand, we'd go. Back and forth and back and forth, nodding off into dreamland.

Sunny summer days found us by the water running side by side, chasing the seagulls, casting our fish lines or steering his speed boat and finding money. Splash, splash, was the name I'd give this special place, I told him.

The crazy swing taught me to embrace laughter and freedom, the hammock to appreciate rest, the lake to appreciate nature, but the years have accumulated.

The man, still tall has grown weaker. his breathing labored, his walk a little slower and his voice and laugh a little quieter: was this the man I used to know?

The peak was high, but a winding road beckoned us further. Reaching our destination, we piled out, caught our breath and then scaled a few small hills to reach 14,240 feet in the Colorado Rockies. He had his oxygen tank, but he was still climbing with us. At the top, he took in the beautiful view and I realized...

He was still the same, beneath the age.

As the wind swirled, the years blew before me and I realized it can all be gone in an instant. His health is failing fast, so I try to savor the moments I have with him now. I am so blessed and thankful to call this kind man my Grandpa.

Happy birthday, Grandpa. I love you so very, very much.

Musical Mondays

Mondays are generally bad days – it’s always hard to get back into a routine after the weekend. Today hasn't been too terrible, but I have decided that Mondays will henceforth be called Musical Mondays, where I share a song that has really impacted me because music always makes things better.

At any rate, I love Needtobreathe, but I had not heard of this song until Kristen blogged about it. Good stuff.

Moving along. I love days when I randomly open my Bible to a passage that I absolutely needed to read. For the last several weeks, I have encountered some serious health issues and when I randomly opened up to Lamentations 3, I knew God was up to something.

"Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall! My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me. But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new mevery morning; great is your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.”

I suffer from an unknown autoimmune disease. I have my good days and bad days. On the good days, life is great. But on the bad days (which seem to far outnumber the good days currently), it becomes overbearing. The pain is too much and sometimes I'd rather just fly away to heaven. But I don't have wings and God hasn't called me home yet. These verses reminded me not to place my hope in doctors or medicine, but rather on God who is the ultimate healer.

Thanks God!

Five years.

July 27th marked the fifth anniversary of my becoming ill (for those of you who don't know, I have been battling an unknown, Lupus-like disease). I didn't even remember it was "the day" until after the fact, which makes me happy. For the last five years, I have determined to keep my illness from defining who I was. It may have crushed my dreams as a musician, knocked me off my knees (quite literally) and prevented me from doing so many things I loved dearly, but it never bested me and I have been able to do plenty of normal things. Doctors said I'd never walk again, let alone run (and now I do half marathons and collegiate races). Doctors never thought I'd be able to travel easily, but I have. They weren't sure what psychological or neurological problems I'd suffer from, but God has been extremely gracious. It has been a long road and I know there will be many tough days ahead that may be filled with more doctors exams, needles and maybe even hospitals and that's okay. Back in the darkest, most miserable hours when I initially became ill, God gave me Isaiah 40:31,

...but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.

He has faithfully kept that promise. And that's why I can say this illness has been the best thing that ever happened to me. I am extremely stubborn and independent, but this illness stripped me of everything and nearly brought me to my deathbed where I was literally begging God for mercy. And by asking for help, God has given me so much.

I know I will continue to suffer from the same things in the future, but I feel I've turned a corner and can confidently say,

This illness does not lead to death. It is for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.

New, exciting things.

Lots of cool things are happening lately. I gonna try and update on everything and answer some questions about my trip.

• I'm shooting my first wedding (as in, I'm the head photographer) tomorrow. Up until this evening, I was freaking out (and I mean f.r.e.a.k.i.n.g). I'm not sure who was more stressed, the bride or myself. What if my images look horrid? What if I miss something? Will I look like a dork snapping away?! Thankfully I can make lists so I don't forget things. I know I can take good pictures. And I already look like a dork most of the time, so tomorrow won't be anything new. I also realized that I can't do this on my own...in order to survive the wedding tomorrow, I'm gonna need to rely on God. I'm going to try my hardest and leave the rest of Him. Also, it helps that the bride has an awesome wedding planner!
• I am going to start blogging my trip to Bosnia. The posts are going to be different then what I've ever done before. I'm looking to be more photojournalistic, so some photos will have pictures and words while others are simply pictures. I will intermittently be blogging them between other posts, so keep checking back.
• Since I'm already on the topic of Bosnia, a lot of people have been asking how I'm doing, what it feels like to be home, etc. And I just have to say, I freaking love America now that I'm back. But I'm also more aware. In Bosnia, I was very conscious of my Americaness (every time I walked past the US Embassy in Sarajevo, I almost always started humming the Star Spangled Banner and I'd talk freaky loud in English) and most people there seemed intrigued about this place I call home. America is awesome, but when I arrived back it was sometimes easy to become agitated and annoyed. Sure we're a rich, powerful nation that exudes much influence around the world and it's easy to become egotistical. As a Christian, I became convicted that my allegiance is to God first and foremost. So, I've become more aware.
• Lots of people have also asked about jet lag. Well, not everyone, but some and so why not talk about it. Everyone has a horror story about this kind of stuff, so I'm going to end on a slap-happy note. When I first arrived in Bosnia, I was extremely jet-lagged and oh-so upset. The six hour time change was kicking my rear and all I wanted to do was SLEEP (been up for almost thirty-four hours), but it was only the mid-afternoon and our team leaders had planned a forty-five minute hike to the top of a mountain to keep us awake. At that point, I thought traveling halfway across the world was the worst idea in the history books. We were falling asleep in chairs, the nearest beds...everywhere. In hindsight, the hike was a great idea because the lookout is where I first fell in love with traveling halfway across the world (and it also gave us this awesome photo where our jet lag was documented for all eternity). The moral of the story? Jet lag is horrible, but worth it. So get out there and see the world!

{zagreb cathedral; zagreb, croatia.}

love ya, bro.

today, i had to make a phone call that i've been dreading for a while now.

i never thought i'd experience this, but when my brothers joined the military i knew the day was coming.

but, it came faster than I thought.

i gripped the phone with my sweaty palms.

a knot formed in my throat.

"hey bro," i began.

we talk.

and then it's time.

i don't want to let go and hang up.

but i have to.

the bus is waiting.

an airplane is nearby, ready to take him across the ocean, to that sandy place.

it's dangerous.

suddenly, war becomes more serious. i thought i had accepted that fact.

but the talk becomes the walk now.

he's leaving.

[see you when you get back, bro!]

Thanksgiving!

This Thanksgiving has taken on a completely new meaning for me. My brother finally graduated from Marine boot camp yesterday, after being away since August. He has changed so much (that's probably an understatement), but it's wonderful to see. I am so proud of him!

My other brother, Josh (pictured below in the camo-colored hoodie) also leaves for Marine boot camp in just a few weeks. This thanksgiving, I am so thankful to God that He has blessed me with a wonderful family and that we can spend the holiday together, because we are growing up and being together won't always be possible.

What are you thankful for?

Other things I am thankful for?

-God (but I think that's a given)

-the fact that it's Thanksgiving and tomorrow, I can listen to Christmas music without being teased.

-that school is nearly over.

-wonderful friends.

-photography!

Goodbye, Jason!

My brother, Jason, leaves for Parris Island this afternoon. Yesterday, I took him out with his wonderful girlfriend for some pictures. I've also included some other shots with various family members (also, my other brother, Josh, also joined the Marine Corps but doesn't leave until May). Gonna miss you, bro!

i love weddings!

Today, one of my childhood friends grew up. It was so exciting to see her dressed up and marrying her best friend :) Although I wasn't the real photographer, I did manage to sneak lots of shots!

my family also attended the wedding because we have known the entire family for many years.