angelaferrara's Xanga

[God.]

Wed, 11 Nov 2009 16:18:27 GMT

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."

[glorious.]

Mon, 09 Nov 2009 06:53:52 GMT

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.

[a return to health.]

Fri, 06 Nov 2009 23:15:01 GMT

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.

[this is my day off.]

Thu, 29 Oct 2009 19:51:33 GMT

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.

[sickly.]

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 04:09:19 GMT

"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!

[life is never perfect, but that's alright. there are bigger things to worry about.]

Fri, 23 Oct 2009 17:27:21 GMT

Life isn't perfect - even when you live in Noe Valley. The neighbors on the flat above us have two very large dogs who like to run about very late at night as well as early in the morning.

I have yet to find a place in this city where I can get a sound night of sleep. I keep dreaming of the last room I rented in Boston. It was on the top floor, huge, dark wooden floors, big windows, view of Day Street. It was wonderful. Relatively cheap. And quiet. Sometimes I wish I could have that room back.

But as I've said a hundred times, I have a wonderful life here. Tonight we are putting on the ABOLITION art event, raising money to give to organizations who fight modern day slavery. The jam band I'm in, Chain of Lakes, is having our first gig there, which I'm pretty excited about!! If you live in the Bay Area, COME! And if you don't, but you would like to give a donation to an organization let me know.

The other day I had a pretty rough day emotionally and was telling my friend about it on the way to seeing a documentary on child labor. As cliche' as it sounds, it was a good reminder of how much I have and how little I have to complain about. Sometimes I need these reminders. It's easy to forget all that I have when I have so much.

[vegetarianism.]

Sat, 17 Oct 2009 21:38:36 GMT

Can I just say I think it's really odd when vegetarians eat fake meat products? I can't wrap my mind around why someone would decide to abstain from meat for particular reasons but then choose to eat it in a different form - especially vegetarian sausage patties and bacon. That's just weird.

As I have become 100% vegetarian over the past few months, I have noticed that for the most part I only become more and more opposed to the idea of eating meat. I don't crave it. When I see it and/or smell it, I don't want it. I honestly just don't really want anything to do with it. And I certainly don't want a fake substitute, thank you very much.

[feelings...why? oh my: human needs. heartbeats.]

Fri, 16 Oct 2009 20:37:49 GMT

You know that feeling when you've heard an album before and you weren't really into it but then you hear it again and you find yourself singing along, dancing around, belting out the melodies as if you've always loved it, as if they're a part of the fiber of your very being, as if it were buried deep inside you and has now emerged? Yeah, that's a good feeling.

The last few days have been rainy and balmy. Riding the bus to work I keep staring out the window at the blotchy patches of asphalt, the darkened wood of the trees, the clouds, the sun playing games in the sky. I literally have to pinch myself to remember that I'm not in Boston. The warm wetness, the brilliant colors the rain brings out...It hasn't rained here in months.

Home is a place where one can connect, be, and...bake. I just made Morning Glory Muffins. All the dry ingredients in one bowl. Wet ingredients in another. With crushed pineapple sinking into the brown sugar, shredded carrots piled on top, and sprinkled raisins as the grand finale. The process of baking is a beautiful art. To take it all in. The colors, layers, textures. What a wonderful adventure. So pleasing to the eye. (I'm considering taking up embroidery.)

"The world is greater than our own words.
To speak of it the mind must bend."
-Wendell Berry

[settling in.]

Mon, 12 Oct 2009 05:05:06 GMT

This weekend was one long deep exhalation. Much needed if I can say so myself. I moved into my new apartment on Wednesday. I now live in Noe Valley, one of the nicer neighborhoods in San Francisco. How I managed to "climb the ladder" from the Tenderloin to the Mission to Noe is a complete mystery to me, but a wonderful one indeed. The first time I visited this part of the city I felt little hints of Boston here and there. Everyone is all put together, the streets are clean, the air smells nice, there are little boutiques, cafes, and coffee shops...it is really quite delightful. As shocking as it may be, I think I really appreciate being surrounded by money. Even though I hate poverty and wish there was a more equal distribution of wealth across the globe, I have to say I dig living amidst the wealthy. You can laugh (or cry), but it's true.

The apartment I'm living in is owned by a couple who flip houses. They are finishing up renovations on their guest room, which I am currently renting. The room is huge - especially by San Francisco standards. Wooden floors. Queen bed with a tempur-pedic mattress. My own bathroom and mini walk-in closet. I told Jeff I feel like I'm living in heaven. He said, "I hope heaven's a little better." And it probably will be. But for now I'm soaking everything in.

On Friday morning I turned off all my electronics and spent four hours, sitting on my bed, in my pajamas, reconnecting with my inner-self, with God, and gaining a new perspective on the world around me. It had been over two months since I have had some real silence and solitude. Love it.

Overall, life is just dandy. I have a great community of friends that I hang out with all of the time. Our little jam band has our first gig next Friday at the Abolition Art Show Fundraiser we're putting on - raising money for organizations who fight against modern day slavery and sex trafficking. I have found a farm in southeastern SF that I can volunteer at every other weekend, which I am ridiculously excited about. And I have signed up for a Refugees in Transition orientation so that I can volunteer as an English tutor!

Things are coming together. I feel like I'm finding my place in this city. And as I settle in, it's starting to feel like home.

[is it really october already?!]

Fri, 02 Oct 2009 22:15:51 GMT

Well, life is good.

It was only a couple of months ago we were holding unemployment parties at my friends' studio apartment, eating chips and salsa, and surfing craigslist for work. There were a handful of us who didn't have jobs and hadn't had them in quite some time but were somehow still in San Francisco and trying to make things work.

Those days were hard as there were so many question marks floating in the air. We all wanted to stay in San Francisco and we didn't want to part with each other, but we also knew we were only becoming more and more broke every day. At the same time though, those days were wonderful. We spent so much time together at each other's places, making meals together, looking for jobs together, going to the park together, walking around together, running errands together, etc. Despite our occasional freak out moments, I have to admit we were all pretty happy.

Now we have moved into another phase. Every single one of us have jobs. We wake up in the morning, nod our heads at one another, make our teas and our coffees, take our showers, eat our cereals, and one by one we walk out the door to catch a bus to work. Then we come home, at varying hours, and run off to such and such an event, or lock ourselves in our rooms, or sit around the wooden kitchen table and sip wine, talking about life and how crazy it is.

Cuz you can't deny that it's crazy, but it's also oh so very good. Yeah, that's right, it's good.