Wednesday, March 30, 2005

Kill Your TV. Cultivate Beauty

In our church community at Sojourn, we celebrate April as "Kill Your TV, Cultivate Beauty" month. The kick-off is a big TV-smashing fest, which the guys think is very cool. We put on an original film festival, give out prizes, etc. This year I've decided to observe "Kill Your TV" month.

Because I have a desk job, I'm on my cutie patootie at LEAST 8 hours a day. Which is ridiculous to begin with. The ludicrous part, however, is that many days I will rise up from a seated position long enough to put in my hour or so at the gym, only to go home and plop down in front of the TV until bedtime! And there's not even anything worth watching ON. (The hypnotic effect of the TV is a phenomenon. Some people will watch even the Weather Channel for hours upon hours, which is evidence of the tremendous power of the boob tube to suck a human being into mindlessly watching anything! But that's another post in and of itself...) Recent reflection on this sad state of affairs has convinced me that I have got to take proactive steps towards a more active lifestyle. Not busy, which I already am---active.

By giving up the supposed "luxury" of vegging, I will be forced to find alternative forms of entertainment and relaxation. The prospect of productivity is stimulating! I'm excited already and actually looking forward to it (which I realize is largely due to the fact that I haven't really gotten into ALIAS this season. If I had, this would be much less attractive.) No more wasting time and brain cells in the mindless act of watching TV. One less excuse for why I don't "have" time to do this or that.

The other, and even more, exciting prospect is that of giving my heart and mind some time off from the idealogical influence of modern media. Whether I want to be or not, I am inevitably influenced by what I watch. Aside from any and all artistic or creative value, TV and movies are powerful tools of communication and dissemination. And what is being communicated today is twisted and warped. A product of our times and expressive of our cultural worldview, yes----like I said, twisted and warped. When I stop to honestly consider how I view life and love, I have to admit that culture and media influence what I truly live and think just as much as what I say I believe. So to continuosly feed myself images and ideas that are contrary to what I know to be true only makes the struggle in my heart and mind that much harder!

All this to say: kill your TV. Cultivate beauty.

Life is short. I, for one, want to start making more of it.

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

Berfday Girl

Well, today is my good friend Heather Bump's birthday and I just wrote a post, including a whole poem called "Ode to Heather", that was promptly lost somewhere in cyberspace. Argh.

So, Heather, it was all about how great you are and how I have such fond memories already of sharing life and laughs. And how I wish you, Dancing Queen, many, many, MANY more berfdays.

Well, that was the gist of it at least.

This post is dedicated to Heather Bump.

Friday, March 18, 2005

Relevant

Have you seen/heard of RELEVANT magazine? It's GRRRREAT. You can check it out at www.relevantmagazine.com. It's a creative magazine dealing with all kinds of pop culture (mostly music and movies), with articles on GOD, LIFE and PROGRESSIVE CULTURE.


Here's a link to an article in their LIFE section. Good stuff.

Click here

Tuesday, March 15, 2005

Moving on...

Okay, since international travel is not the ONLY thing I'm about...

Over the last few months, I've begun to delve into the world of songwriting, something I've always dreamed of doing (as in, that was on my Top-Ten-Things-I-Want-to-Do-Before-I-Die list). As with most creative endeavors, it is a process. And that's been challenging. I'm one of those people who wants to skip the discipline/training part of such processes and go immediately to the birthing of beauty. But, as we all know, it doesn't happen that way.

My friend Bobby has been such an encouragement in this area and has practically forced me to keep writing regularly---be it scribbles in the car, an isolated phrase here or there, or the lyrics that knock around in your head and keep you up at night. It's all about developing and cultivating the habit and practice of writing.

I wrote this on one of those days when I was feeling uninspired. But it totally captured the heart of where I was in this process.

I don’t feel like writing today
I’m not feeling inspired today
Feels like there’s nothing of good in my heart
So what can I say of beauty?

I know the source of the problem
I am the source of the problem
Too lazy to tune in to what’s good for my heart
So I’m running away from beauty

I want a song to flow out of a place of joy
I want a song that transcends and inspires
Give me a beautiful heart full of something good
So I can sing of your beauty

There’s no song in my heart when it’s running from you
There’s no peace when I’m doing what I should not do
Give me the strength to follow truth when deception is easy

I want a song to flow out of a place of joy
I want a song that transcends and inspires
Give me a beautiful heart full of something good
So I can sing of your beauty


(Copyright Lorie King, 2005)

Monday, March 14, 2005

When in Paris...

...do NOT leave your purse with your money, passport and credit card hanging on a rack in a booth at the flea market. Just a suggestion.

So we're at the flea market (the largest one in Paris---which Chris Davis and I just HAD to visit) and the brilliant blue of a cordoroy blazer catches my eye. What to do but stop and try it on? I take off the little purse that I have slung across my body and hang it on the end of the rack, so I can take my coat off and try this blazer on over the other two or three layers I have on to stave off the Parisian chill. Unsurprisingly, the blazer is a snug fit (because of the many layers, I'm sure). So I sadly, but neatly, hang it back on its hanger and wedge it in among the others of its kind. My friends and I then proceed on to the next booths in search of "bargains".

Oh, say, thirty minutes later, my lips are feeling dry so I reach for the not-so-cheap lip color I treated myself to in preparation for my trip and---lo! and behold---there's no purse slung across my body! With amazing astuteness I quickly surmise that it must have gotten left behind when I tried on the brilliantly blue blazer. Luckily, my directionally-savvy friend, Christy Davis, recognizes the branch of the flea market maze from which we have just emerged as being near the blazer booth. I hot-trot it over to the booth and look around for my purse (not there) and then for the elderly gentleman who seemed to own the thing and had helped me before (also not there). I wait patiently. Eventually his young and perhaps-not-so-trustworthy? helper saunters over, followed by the owner himself.

"I left my purse here," I politely declare. The owner says, "Oh, that was yours? I put it upstairs because I wanted to be sure I knew whose it was." He then proceeds to disappear and reappear with a ladder, prop it up against the attic door above his "booth" and climb up into the crawl space, descending moments later with my precious black purse. "Make sure that everything is there," he helpfully suggests. I rifle around, note that my passport and money seem to be there, thank him and walk away with my hand still in my purse. Which is a good thing, because as I continue to rifle through my stuff (looking for my lipgloss, of course), I realize that my credit card AND my lipgloss are both gone! My heartbeat quickens and I turn on my heel, returning to the booth. Both guys are standing there and I brightly begin, "Actually there is something missing...my credit card is not here!" "Oh, no?," the older guy confusedly asks. "Are you sure it was there before?" The younger guy has (what I would consider to be) a little smirk on his face. My suspicion is aroused. "Oh, I'm positive," I assert. "Hmm...well, I can go back upstairs and see if it is there." Out comes the ladder, up crawls the elderly gentleman. Only this time he doesn't even get his whole body in the crawl space before he turns and triumphantly descends with my VISA protruding from betwixt his thumb and forefinger. My suspicion is wide awake, but I have my stuff back. I thank him and tuck the card safely back into my purse (now securely slung across my body). Whew!

I'm not ashamed to admit that I then told the guy that my lipgloss was also missing---much to my friends' embarrassment and dismay. And, actually, the little old guy said he was not crawling back up the ladder to look for my lipgloss. So I did. It wasn't there. I was sad.

In the end, I returned home without my lipgloss but with a VISA that---for a thirty-minute period of time---was in the possession of flea market booth owners. Normally, I'm a trusting person, but the whole thing was a little shady. So now I have a brand-new credit card number. And a resolution to not try on any more blazers when I'm wearing multiple layers...


Hats on Lorie and Chris D. furnished by Paris's Largest Flea Market 

Friday, March 11, 2005

Pics from Paris


The BIG snow! 


The Ladies---underneath the Eiffel Tower. Ooh, la la! Posted by Hello


The Latin Quarter = yummy food 


The Sienne at Night---gorgeous! Posted by Hello


A typical corner café in the artsy section of town 


Chris and Christie make a friend outside of Sacre Coeur 


Us at the Moulin Rouge Posted by Hello

Wednesday, March 09, 2005

Le Trip to Paris


All of us plus the Gerken boy, Greg Posted by Hello

Here are some long-awaited tidbits about my recent trip to Paris.

My cohort and fellow Sojourner, Cheryl, was planning a little visit to Paris to see her friend, Kate, and asked if I'd accompany her to hang out and sightsee while Kate was in class during the week. After hemming and hawing for a few weeks (I'm a teensy bit indecisive) and searching for "good" ticket prices, I decided to go. I'm single, unencumbered and relatively financially stable---aside from having an insatiable travel bug---so, why not?

I am, however, not only indecisive, miserly, single, unencumbered, financially stable and travel-bug bitten...I am also an extreme social butterfly and kind friend. So I started inviting everybody and their cousin to come on this trip with us (much to Cheryl's dismay, since we were supposed to be staying in Kate's one-bedroom flat)! In the end, our entourage included: Cheryl, Chris and Christie Davis, Dave B. (a friend and favorite travel companion of mine from college) and me. And God provided a bigger, better place for us to stay---with the Gerkens, friends of Kate's. So off we went.

It was very fun being a part of both Cheryl and Dave's first international traveling experience. Poor Dave got the raw end of the deal. He was the only one not traveling from Louisville and, even though between the five of us we were traveling three different itineraries and airlines, ended up being the only one who had problems going and coming. He handled himself and the crap admirably and once he got to into Paris 12 hours after his original arrival time, we were good to go.

Like I said, we stayed with a family who've been living in Paris about a year. Their home and hospitality were so amazing. It was SO nice to come home after a long day of braving the bitter weather, language barrier and decision-making to an actual home where we could kick back, (most nights) have one of Kendall's scrumptious dinners and relax in a cozy atmosphere. One of the highlights, too, was getting to be a part of the monthly gathering of their church plant. We met some neat people and enjoyed some great music. Thank you, Gerkens.

But you're curious about the city itself, I'm sure. Surprisingly enough, we didn't encounter much of the anti-American rudeness for which Parisians are infamous (except for one run-in with a crusty old waiter). We like to think it's because we fit in so well and were so inconspicuously not French. At least I can speak for myself---some guy tapped me on the shoulder one day on the street and was asking me directions in French. Ooh, la la. Just call me (insert French female moniker of choice). The secret, people, is to wear all black. Seriously.

For the record, it is cold in Paris in February. Probably not always as cold as it was for us---on Day 4 of our visit they got the "biggest" (probably a whopping 2 inches) snow they've had in nine years. Which was pretty, but bone-chillingly cold. Which is not good when you're walking 17,031 miles a day out and about. Well, I take that back. It's good in the sense that, between your body trying to keep itself warm and endure the 17,031-mile distance, you burn off the fame-worthy crepes and hot chocolate. Yum!

In terms of sight-seeing, we saw all the standards: Notre Dame, the Arc de Triomphe, Sacre Coeur, the Sienne, Luxembourg gardens (the Gerkens live next door), the Tour d'Eiffel, and the three largest art museums---the Louvre, Musee d'Orsay and the Centre Pompidou. The art collections in Paris are separated into museums by time periods. So the Louvre has the oldest artwork, the Musee d'Orsay has the most famous collections (Impressionists, etc.), and the Pompidou has your modern works of art. The latter two were by far my favorite sights seen. Cheryl, Chris and Christie visited Versailles, but Dave and I opted to leave that for warmer weather and strolled around the largest mall in Paris for the morning.

And, of course, we ate. And ate. And ate. Kendall Gerken's cooking was fabulous. Crepes from street vendors were a favorite. And they're not those pansy, flimsy, whipped-cream-covered conncoctions we delve into here with fork and spoon. These are pizza-sized crepes filled with cheeses or chocolate or bananas and honey and folded up into a cone for eating on the go. Upscale Angelina's is famous for their (very expensive) chocolat africaine and it was worth every penny! Thick, dark chocolate is served in individual pitchers and lightened (though not thinned) with whipped cream. Yuh-um. Thanks to the cold---and huge snow---we needed hot chocolate as often as possible. I'm sure you all understand. Or maybe you don't---you've gotta try Angelina's hot chocolate once in your life. Plan your trip!


One of our many cups of hot chocolate after a long, COLD day. Posted by Hello

One night we experienced French cuisine at little Parnasse 158 (or something like that). This was my chance to taste escargot. Which I had to do---I'm no wuss. Not as bad as I thought it would be. Kind of had the same texture as a chicken heart (yes, they're eaten in some cultures by the skewer-full, and they're yummy). But who can even tell what they really taste like hidden under a bulb's worth of garlic?!

Next time I'll tell you about the Parisian adventure that led to the cancellation of my credit card...

Oh, and there will be pictures at some point for your perusal.

Tuesday, March 08, 2005

Joyless blogging...

...or "The PRESSURE of a Blog"! Any other newbie out there feeling tremendous pressure to be witty and humorous, or at least extremely insightful and intelligent (not to mention well-read), in your blog posts? It's quite intimidating! And it's the primary reason I haven't posted more. I've been sitting around trying to come up with something interesting, entertaining and/or worthwhile to say!

Forget that. Come what may, I'm just gonna start posting periodically (which would be the whole point, wouldn't it?).

BUT...I will say that I can tend to be better at responding than initiating. So, how about some of you readers come up with interesting and/or amusing topics to discuss and we'll go at it? An advice column of sorts, perhaps. Why not? I'm all ears and witty/intelligent (though maybe not always well-read)/sensitive/wise/amusing responses.

One, two, three...go!

Thursday, March 03, 2005


Me and a furry friend at the Cat Sanctuary in Cyprus Posted by Hello

Wednesday, March 02, 2005

A Little Perspective

So for my first post, I'm going to stick something on here that I didn't even write myself---which may not even be kosher in Bloggerland, but so be it. And, mind you, I don't have a wife serving me hot dogs, a couch-potato husband, or a complaining teen, but...this is good stuff and I think we all get the idea.

I AM THANKFUL...


FOR THE WIFE
WHO SAYS IT'S HOT DOGS TONIGHT,
BECAUSE SHE IS HOME WITH ME,
AND NOT OUT WITH SOMEONE ELSE.

FOR THE HUSBAND
WHO IS ON THE SOFA
BEING A COUCH POTATO,
BECAUSE HE IS HOME WITH ME
AND NOT OUT AT THE BARS.

FOR THE TEENAGER
WHO IS COMPLAINING ABOUT DOING DISHES
BECAUSE IT MEANS SHE IS AT HOME,
NOT ON THE STREETS.

FOR THE TAXES I PAY
BECAUSE IT MEANS
I AM EMPLOYED.

FOR THE MESS TO CLEAN AFTER A PARTY
BECAUSE IT MEANS I HAVE
BEEN SURROUNDED BY FRIENDS.

FOR THE CLOTHES THAT FIT A LITTLE TOO SNUG BECAUSE IT MEANS I HAVE ENOUGH TO EAT.

FOR MY SHADOW THAT WATCHES ME WORK
BECAUSE IT MEANS
I AM OUT IN THE SUNSHINE.

FOR A LAWN THAT NEEDS MOWING,
WINDOWS THAT NEED CLEANING,
AND GUTTERS THAT NEED FIXING
BECAUSE IT MEANS I HAVE A HOME.

FOR ALL THE COMPLAINING
I HEAR ABOUT THE GOVERNMENT
BECAUSE IT MEANS
WE HAVE FREEDOM OF SPEECH..

FOR THE PARKING SPOT
I FIND AT THE FAR END OF THE PARKING LOT BECAUSE IT MEANS I AM CAPABLE OF WALKING AND I HAVE BEEN BLESSED WITH TRANSPORTATION.

FOR MY HUGE HEATING BILL
BECAUSE IT MEANS
I AM WARM.

FOR THE LADY BEHIND ME IN CHURCH
WHO SINGS OFF KEY BECAUSE IT MEANS
I CAN HEAR.

FOR THE PILE OF LAUNDRY AND IRONING
BECAUSE IT MEANS
I HAVE CLOTHES TO WEAR.

FOR WEARINESS AND ACHING MUSCLES
AT THE END OF THE DAY
BECAUSE IT MEANS I HAVE BEEN
CAPABLE OF WORKING HARD.

FOR THE ALARM THAT GOES OFF
IN THE EARLY MORNING HOURS
BECAUSE IT MEANS I AM ALIVE.

AND FINALLY, FOR TOO MUCH E-MAIL
BECAUSE IT MEANS I HAVE
FRIENDS WHO ARE THINKING OF ME.