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angelaferrara
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Name: Angela
Interests: music, books, poetry, road trips, traveling, the world, photography, movies, the ocean, New England, having good times...
Expertise: wanderlust
Message: message meEmail: email me
Member Since:
12/1/2005
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| The other morning I sat in a coffee shop for twenty minutes before work, sipping my favorite tea: Mighty Leaf's Bombay Chai. My head was swirling with thoughts....
I thought back to one of my favorite years of my life, exactly a decade ago. I was fourteen years old, attending TC Christian High, learning guitar, jamming with all my friends, writing songs, and was deeply in love with God. I would go for walks with him in the acres of woods behind our house. We would talk for hours. And I swear he would say the funniest things. I remember laughing out loud in the stillness of the forest on more than one occasion. He was my best friend, the lover of my soul, and I was completely consumed with him.
As all relationships have their ups and downs, a pull towards and away from the other, so has my relationship with God gone through many different phases since then. I have gone through painful years of silence, years of asking questions, being honest, and exploring the world that I find myself in. One morning a year and a half ago I woke up and declared to myself, to God, and to the world that I was no longer a Christian. I could no longer handle the label which had so many negative connotations that came with it. That was a very momentous and liberating day for me. Removing the label didn't equate removing God from my life. Quite the opposite actually. I remember being at the Crossing last fall, kneeling at their prayer alter: "I am yours." A prayer of submission. I knew I would never have everything figured out and that while a lot of my faith was still somewhat frustrating and confusing for me, that I still loved God. The most natural thing I could think to do was give him my life. Over and over again, "I am yours, I am yours, I am yours."
As of late, I have been feeling a return to elements of that fourteen year old girl within my inner self. While I was sitting in the coffee shop I was trying to think of how I would explain all of this to someone who doesn't know God. Why am I glad he is in my life? Because he makes it better? Because I am happier? All of these answers were insufficient. And then it occurred to me. Why am I glad he is in my life? Because he is life. Period. End of sentence. He is the substance and essence of life, the very air I breathe, the green and the trees, my heart beating so loudly, the music I hear all around me every day, the beauty I can't ignore, love which cannot be contained, peace which shatters all anxiety, so much joy that it's almost unbearable, generosity so deep that I want to cry, forgiveness that goes far beyond common sense...and that is just the beginning to a very long list I could compose. I am shifting from a mantra of submission to one of embrace: "You are mine." | | |
| Around noon, I got on the muni light rail, headed inbound to downtown to do some much-awaited shopping. However, approaching Duboce St. I had a growing urge to get off and switch lines to head west to the ocean. After spending the last two weekends sick and alone in the cave that is my bedroom (I don't really have windows), I have been craving time in the sun. I think I must be becoming a true Californian. For the first time in my life, I feel like I have a sun quota that must be met every week. I wasn't sure I wanted to travel an hour all the way to the ocean but on the other hand I couldn't imagine waiting til next weekend to soak in some rays. So, I got off the J and switched to the N. There is something about riding the N all 49 blocks down Judah Street that is very relaxing and therapeutic. The sun always streams through the windows - soft, brilliant, and warm. And as every block passes, the train gets less and less crowded. Usually by the end of the ride there are just a few of us left, lost in our micro-worlds. Today I was listening to Animal Collective and reading Rilke's Book of Hours, which spoke deeply to my soul. This was my spontaneous adventure with God and I was loving every moment of it. And then, as soon as I got to the beach, I was awe-struck. I have never seen the waves that high here. And the tide was coming in all the way up to the bluffs where I was sitting. So amazing. I sat in the sun and watched the waves crashing and receding and rolling and lightly foaming...and then I laid back in the sun and listened to the thunderous bass in the background and the forefront filled with the light-hearted soprano waves singing in layers, coming and going. It was wonderful. In every way.
Here are two poems, written back to back, that I can't help coming back to:
Was irren meine Hande in den Pinseln?
Why am I reaching again for the brushes?
When I paint your portrait, God,
nothing happens.
But I can choose to feel you.
At my senses' horizon
you appear hesitantly,
like scattered islands.
Yet standing here, peering out,
I'm all the time seen by you.
The choruses of angels use up all of heaven.
There's no more room for you
in all that glory. You're living
in your very last house.
All creation holds its breath, listening within me,
because, to hear you, I keep silent.
Ich bin, du Angstlicher. Horst du mich nicht
I am, you anxious one.
Don't you sense me, ready to break
into being at your touch?
My murmurings surround you like shadowy wings.
Can't you see me standing before you
cloaked in stillness?
Hasn't my longing ripened in you
from the beginning
as fruit ripens on a branch?
I am the dream you are dreaming.
When you want to awaken, I am that wanting.
I grow strong in the beauty you behold.
And with the silence of stars I enfold
your cities made by time. | | |
| I'm feeling much much better.
All of that time lying in bed, caring for myself, has lent itself to a renewed appreciation for life in its fullness.
I have pretty much been running from one thing to the next since I've been feeling better. Grateful for time to be with friends again. To be able to talk. And sing. And enjoy this city.
My band Chain of Lakes now has some music up on myspace if you want to check it out. These are all really rough cuts, recorded in our living rooms on our apple computers...but it's something! 'Discover' is probably one of my favorite recordings. I'll let you know when we update them. | | |
| I am sitting in bed.
To my left is my wooden night stand, decorated with books, cds, medicine, earplugs, a hair straightner, sunglasses, earrings, and mugs of hot water.
Along the wall my guitar is resting uprightly along with my suitcases and laundry bag.
The poppazon chair in the corner is covered in clothes and books.
The walls by the closet are covered with purses and jackets.
Our usually perfectly clean kitchen is cluttered with dishes, pots, pans, silverware.
What a disaster! Last night we had a bit of a flood coming out of my newly renovated bathroom. I didn't even notice it until my house-mate knocked on my door. To my astonishment I looked at the wooden floor which was covered in water going into my closet and down the steps into the living room.
We haven't been able to use water since then. Thus the dirty kitchen. And no showers. Thus our dirty selves.
I had to go down the street to Whole Foods this morning to use the restroom.
Plumbers have been coming in and out of my room all day, trying to figure out what is going on. And I have just been sitting on my bed, resting. Because I have a horrible sore throat that doesn't seem to want to go away. In an attempt to rest my voice, I basically took a vow of silence when I woke up and have tried to refrain from verbal responses. Although a few have slipped out. Mostly:
"Cool."
"Okay."
"Yeah."
"Awesome."
"Sounds good."
"No worries."
The typical one/two-word responses.
Now I'm waiting to hear back from my boss to see if I can have tomorrow off. I hope to feel better soon. All of my plans this week have been cancelled. It's awfully depressing. | | |
| "How are you feeling?"
"Meh. Not so good. Sucks to be sick."
And that was my weekend. Which was unfortunate because it was soooo beautiful outside. But I still managed to have an alright time. The Art Show went really well. Lots of people came, which was really exciting - especially seeing how as more people become aware and learn about modern day slavery, the closer we get to ending it.
Chain of Lakes' debut didn't go as well as I had planned or hoped for. We unfortunately had 2 mics for the 3 of us, which meant that Rachael and I were basically singing with our cheeks glued to each other straight into the mic while I strummed my guitar that was practically sitting on her arm. It was slightly comedic and I couldn't help but laugh through the first part of our first song. "Really?!" I thought to myself. "Is this really happening right now??" After all those hours of practice. It felt unreal. But I eventually pulled myself together and we got through our 7-song set. Some songs came out better than others, but overall it went well enough and inspired me with hope that future performances have great potential to go much much better :).
Seeing how I have been under the weather, the rest of the weekend has been fairly uneventful minus discovering Noe Valley's Saturday morning farmer's market around the corner from my house and thus making zucchini bread yesterday and lentil soup with carrots and bell peppers today. Yum. It's been fun cooking and baking again.
Now I just need this Tylenol PM to start kicking in so I can get lots of Zzzzzzz's. Goodnight! | | |
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