Oh The Places You Will Go

I just found out last night that a friend of mine is moving to the South Pole... I think he's going to live in the U.S. Biodome for eight months. So in honor of that Scott...

"Keep cool, but do not freeze." — From a mayonnaise jar, but also makes a good winterover life rule.

"You want a real 'Survivor' show ? Oh, we'll give you the real thing. But sometimes we do wish we could vote people off the island." — Grant about wintering over at McMurdo.





Also, about a month or so ago I found out my cousin and his wife and 2 kids moved to a 5-square mile island in the Dutch Antilles... you can't really find it by looking it up as much as locating it latitudinally and longitudinally... It's called Saba. There are no numbers in their address... just a general idea which part of the volcano they live on.

I'm just wondering to myself, "how do I know these people?".

Here's to iTunes...

I'm listening to Kate Bush right now. Kate Bush's CD (well... I had the tape) "Hounds Of Love" was one of my favorite recordings... ever. Also around the time this made its way into my life, Peter Gabriel's "Last Temptation of Christ" was in the deck. I had dubbed a friend's recording. High speed dub. I was listening to Erasure, Indigo Girls' "Closer to Fine", a bit of early R.E.M - any of the "Document", "Eponymous", "Green" or, especially "Out of Time" tapes. I had a beginning affinity for 19 year old Ani Difranco that I had seen at a small club downtown for $5 around that time in winter, some very early Sara Mclaughlan, Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians. Always the Beatles. And on the harder side for those days there was "Living Color"... the list goes on. It was the late eighties, I was between the ages of 12 and 14 and, by clear evaluation of my music choices, also a bit schizo.

At some point from the transition of "I will never own CD's. They're too expensive" to the "I never listen to tapes anymore" stages, I lost touch with these friends.

Then we moved to digital music and i have found that I cannot function a healthy life without iTunes nearby.

I had one of Kate Bush's song's in my head the other day and satiated that broken record by getting the CD... and then it began... I had to get all this music again. Because one song reminded me of another and so on. To iTunes I went and they were so helpful... those people that make my memories so accessable now. I am reliving these years... which could be good or bad, i suppose, but they had a great soundtrack.

So, I'm wondering, what was your soundtrack around these Jr. high years? I'm interested.

How did I get here?

Being a grown-up is just surreal sometimes. I just bought a house.

I just read my post from 10/17... turns out, I'm liar.

In addition, I just wanted to see if I could write a post less than three paragraphs. Clearly brevity and I are not friends.

It takes a village

I really suck at this blogging thing.

Aside from that, today was a great Sabbath. My great friends, Gregg and Cyndi, had their baby dedicated today so I went to their church and enjoyed so much being a part of the intention of raising this kid we call Brennan Brave Hampton. I'm a big supporter of the idea that it takes a village to raise a child. And we felt like one, too, as we gathered on the left side of the church behind Gregg and Cyn - us people asked to "sponsor" and love and grow Brennan up to be a good boy and a better man. The church should've tipped a bit. We were a heavy village.

This past week I went home to NY to spend Thanksgiving with the fam. I joined up with an old and very good friend. We've known each other since we were 3 and our parents collectively raised us. We went to the hospital Wednesday night to visit her father-in-law in ICU. He passed the moment she arrived at his door. The family was called and we waited for them to arrive. The wife came with her two foster children, 4 and 6. Why could she think she would be good and qualified to raise them at her grand and respectable age of 80 something? Becuase she wouldn't be the only one offering direction and care... it would be the whole community.

As this family gathering was playing itself out, the wife and her daughter needed to step out. The two boys and their pepsi's were placed in one office-furniture chair next to me with the instructions, directed at me... "You yell at them if you need to", "Boys, you listen to this lady if she speaks to you." I'm an adult, somehow connected in some way - clearly I'm trustworthy and at that point in time, was a member of the village - therefore, I was to be heeded if I spoke.

The teacher in me whipped out a packet of colored pens and drawing paper from my magic satchel and we set off to create monsters and creatures not yet discovered. After Shaka had traced his sweet little hand and learned how to write his name he enjoyed expending his energy on large and fast strokes of the pens. The other was much more meticulous and clearly, and honestly, was quite creative with what he had.

People came in and out. A large community came and I noticed that when someone was not occupied with a family member, offering condolences or discussing, they were offering words of instruction to the children because, well, that's what you do. Children need not go too long without hearing the voice of some elder in their lives.

After the the evening was over, at least in the hospital, and many hugs were offered, "God bless you" was shared in abundance, and we moved like a tribe to the elevator, I said to my friend, "This is one of the things I love about the Black Community, they know what it means to be a family, even when they're not. They know how to take care of each other and they know how to be a "village", as it were." I remember thinking when one of the other adults spoke up to one of the boys about what they're were doing "We don't see much of this among us white folk" because white folk don't do this... and if they do, people get offended. We tend to be isolated and independent, to a fault. When another adult speaks to a child, offense is taken and often a "this is my territory" look is given. Ridiculous.

I liked today for so many reasons, but today was so good to see these friends of mine say, "we realize we can't do this alone. We need all of you behind not only us, but we need each one of you to be committed to our kid because we don't have everthing he needs... but hopefully one of us in this group does. And if we're lucky and blessed, you'll all be around at some stage of this precious kid's life and we give you permission to help shape him as you see fit." I just think that's cool. I think it's reflective of Jesus' kingdom, the one I hope to see happen here on earth.

So, Good Sabbath, good thoughts for my heart today.

Thanks Gregg and Cyndi and Brennan for letting me be a part of today.

Walk The Line

Today's going to be a good day for the Jenn Swift blog. I'm posting twice because I saw "Walk The Line" today - the movie about Johnny and June Carter Cash - and I was... well, I loved it.

I've been excited about this movie for a few months. I'm not a die-hard Cash fan. I know those guys. Troy Yeager is a die-hard Cash fan. I saw him at homecoming shortly after The Man In Black died and I asked how he was doing with all the sincerity I would ask if a parent had died for him because it really was epic. So me, not die-hard, but I really like the guy. That atleast put me in the the-movie- was-being-looked-forward-to-greatly. Finally got to see it today.

It was the kind of movie that had me feeling a lot of a lot at the end. I couldn't even tell you what the "a lot" was, but it was deeplpy visceral (is that a bit redundant?) and I felt a bit like liquid when it ended 2 1/2 hours later. I haven't seen a movie fully be worth it's ticket cost in a while. This one was... probably twice. I would probably see this again. I would even own the movie and that's just not something I do. I don't buy movies. I would buy this one.

It was so worth it on many technical levels... great acting, good music, good scene work, good script... but beyond that, I left feeling something when the credits were playing. I say all that as an amateur - but I want to read eveything I can about this man, and June Carter for that matter. I want to own all their music. I want to dive in. I may become die-hard... atleast as much so as you can be after a musician dies. But I'm interested. This week I might become immersed. We'll see. But I'll see the movie again and I would recommend it to anyone I can, such as yourself. If you haven't yet, go see it.

Jenn's a duster

I need a break. I should probably use a mask. I've been spray painting for the past hour. I am fascinated with spray paint and tagging. I really want to learn how to do this. A few years ago was when I started wanting to explore the hazy realm of graffiti. Two weeks after this new want I found myself in Russia next to some teenager and he was showing me how (not on public property... nice record that would've been - "American Pastor found desecrating public property in urban square with local band of taggers" - though, I'm sure, a great story that would be) He was working on a board. He let me spray a couple of lines and then gave me a cardboard box and some chalk. Not a very glamorous beginning. I apparently did not have the makings to start at "great".

I've messed around with the stuff a lot, feeling a little defensive everytime I show up at the walmart counter with 10 new cans. "Ma'am, can I see your ID?" "I promise, nice Walmart lady, I'm not huffin the stuff" - it looks a little suspicious. Clearly nothing good can come from that many cans of spray paint. None-the-less, spray I do.

In May a friend in Minneapolis asked if I would make some banners for a series their church was doing. I did two banners, 9 and 6 feet, gathered my arsenal of aeresols and went to it. Perhaps it was the fumes and the fact they were finished at 6am on a sleepless night, but I felt good about how they turned out. A week later I was in Australia at Juggler's Cafe feeling a bit more like, "why do I bother?"

Peter opened the garage door and we entered a long corridor that would be an alley between buildings if it weren't a passage made for them. The walls were completely covered and layered with images that were like nothing I'd ever seen. The smell of paint cans and brick wall (yes, that is a specific smell) was enchanting. After about 40 feet the corridor opened into a courtyard with walls maybe 15ft high and I was hit with sensory overload and it was great. Taggers had been invited over and over again to make these huge walls their playground. I felt like I was gorging myself on images and I would soon have to purge.

When I was in high school I found out about the Egyptian's philosophy of images and heard about something called horror vacui - fear of space - which is why there's no space left unfilled in their pyramid art. This experience left me feeling very much like what I imagined the Egyptians feeling. Every space was covered with something. I have a bit of affinity towards this philosophy myself which may have been why I had something of an emotional response to this all as I entered. It felt like a sanctuary.

I'm wheezing a little bit while I'm breathing right now. Lungs repair themselves, right? I grew up living in a house of smokers, left fairly unscathed, but I'm sure I'll die of lung cancer do to my artistic pursuits. Is that ironic?

Somebody just walked into the room and said, "it smells like spray paint in here". I'm a good football field away from where I'm working on the piece, but it's all over my hands, my jeans and the smell has seeped into my jacket simply by association. "It's me" I confessed, and slowly raised my hand.

I think my head's a bit heavier now, I'm probably coming down a bit from any impairing fume inhalation... time to get back to it.

3//THREE//AUSTRALIA - First Australians

Part of this post is taken from a June 16 letter.

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First Australians is an organization in Brisbane that provides consulting and resources for Aboriginal people that are wanting to start their own businesses or be further represented in the community. The Aboriginal people groups of Australia are a group that face many of the same difficulties that Native Americans encounter as displaced people groups. The thing you may find surprising, however, is that aboriginal people here in Australia did not gain citizenship until 1972. For about 100 years prior to that, the Australian government was trying to assimilate this race into the Caucasian one, literally diluting the aboriginal coloring and features out of their race. It only takes four generations to do this as the aboriginal coloring and features are extremely recessive.



Monique is a woman that works with First Australians. She is a white woman in appearance. Bridget is also an aboriginal woman, however, she is quite dark. Both of these women come from backgrounds where only one parent is aboriginal. It is a startling reality that there are almost no full-race aboriginals anymore due to this governmental process that has occurred in Australia's history. (I want to encourage you to read any information you might find by google searching "The Stolen Generation". Also, "Rabbit Proof Fence" is an excellent movie to get a better picture of what this policy did to a people)

The meeting with Bridget and Monique was arranged because our team was interested learning more about the art of the aboriginal people. The organization works closely with aboriginal artists and so they agreed to meet with a team of American's interested in cultural arts. The team today spent about an hour and a half with these two women learning about specific elements relating to art of the aboriginal cultures but we dove deeply into the history and struggles of this people group. The conversation and time spent were exceedingly meaningful and insightful.

Leanne joined us. As she is very intent on the realities of a social gospel, we spoke about racial reconciliation and how to further pursue that. Bridget invited Leanne into thinking about this together which was very cool for Leanne. Today's meeting with these two women was extremely significant to starting a relationship with them. But we just went to talk to them about art, right?

Today was just an example to us of what the arts in a context could potentially be. As a team, we were pretty excited we were able to be a part of connecting these two groups together in a very safe and non-threatening way. We were also just really overwhelmed with the gift of speaking with these two women who gave us some thoroughly insightful pieces of information with which to understand the culture we're in and the place that produced these works of art which are the stories of people that Jesus loves.

After that meeting, Bridget invited us to come to an opening the next evening of 5 aboriginal men who had worked with large canvases to create native images valuable to each "tribe" represented. Great exhibit.

Also, we found out one of the women who had been in my bookmaking class that week was actually quite a well known aboriginal artist and was featured in the catalogue of National Aboriginal artists Bridget had at the organization.

Bridget has a great vision for a traveling exhibit that would combine pieces both from the Aboriginal people group and the African American people group that focus on responses to their respective oppression both currently and historically. It would be a very powerful exhibit.

Derek (one of the team mates) works at a the new fine art facility here and has begun looking into the possibility of bringing that here to start it's tour. There are numerous galleries in America that would be thrilled about hosting such an exhibit. We loved the vision and as she was explaining it, I started crying. It really moved me. We'd love to see this happen. And I'd love to work with Bridget.

Our time with Bridget and Monique was really good from a creative standpoint. But it was extremely valuable from a personal one as well.

pictures from the exhibit.

2//TWO//AUSTRALIA - Traffic Boxes

One of the coolest things about Brisbane is this thing they do with Traffic Boxes. You know the metal boxes that are at every stop light in the world. Anthony Lister is an Australian artist that cares, I think at least, about community art. I love community art. Just stuff out in the community that people can sit on, lean on, touch. The stuff that's a part of life and gets worn away like we do. Art that's not on a wall somewhere with a security guard looking over your shoulder, "I'm sorry. You're too close. The painting can feel you breathing on it and it doesn't care for that too much. The paintings here, they would prefer not to be breathed on" Community art doesn't care - "come you poor, weak and weary. Sleep on me tonight. Spit and pee on me if you have to, but I'm here and, well, I can't go anywhere"

So Anthony Lister pushed for this. I got to meet Anthony on Friday night. He rents studio space at a place called Juggler's Cafe and Peter Breen was kind enough to show us around. Peter is a guy who, I don't know, just like him a lot. He has a passion for artists and the arts and I just love what he's doing with that. I would encourage you to visit his site. Next year the team hopes to spend some more time with him. The space they have is incredible. Anyway, Anthony was working late, preparing for a show in NYC.

Back to the traffic boxes... I tried to take pictures of every traffic box I could. Tons of local artists attacked these things and made them amazing. I'll also include some other public art I found around.

1//ONE//AUSTRALIA - "I Come From A Land Down Under"

If you never got into "Men At Work" - that's too bad. They had one of the best songs of the 80's and it has staying power (They were also not a one-hit-wonder as some might think.

In June I took a small team to Australia in partnership with a missional church in Brisbane. It was the first of what will be many trips and partnerships in conjuction with an organization I started last summer. The organization was started out of my heart for the arts, the realization that there is a disconnect between Jesus' family and society overall in this area and my desire simply to be with creative people, creating places for them to serve, because generally there just aren't any when it comes to faith communities.

Ken and Leanne Baker said "Come! We'll help you see if this works or not" - what wonderful people. And so we came.

For the first few days we trapsed. Trapsed to galleries, trapsed around town, trapsed to the neighborhood center where Ken and Leanne should start paying rent ( http://www.newfarmneighbourhood.org/ ). Good thing it's a community center. And it is a wonderful place. Many of the people that come in and out are people who come in and out of a lot of places. But it always seems to be a hub and it's where we found ourselves a lot.

We taught art classes for a week and were just really glad to see the response. Why this was so cool was because Ken and Leanne (please visit their link to the right) have developed such a great friendship with the center that it was a welcome exchange on both parts. We were able to provide classes for a center that wouldn't have the resources to focus into art instruction, but could certainly find it beneficial for the people that use the center. In addition it connected Ken and Leanne and the center to more people.

Ken and Leanne are extraordinary people and as long as I've known them have been purveyors of a social gospel. The reality that Jesus' Kingdom isn't completely about where you're going when you die, but it's the renewal of life while we're still here that goes beyond the thinking that we're in this just so we can all achieve personal holiness. They have no church building, they live in their community, and function as though they really believe that "church" is more what happens outside of the typical Sunday gathering time than in it. I think you might get an idea of what this looks like in theory, but I feel very few really understand how that functions. (Read "Shaping of Things to Come" to get an idea). Also Adam and Christy Lipscomb spent three months of a summer with the Bakers before planting their church in Grand Rapids, Michigan and are pursuing community in a very similar manner (City Life Wesleyan Church). So this providing of classes and exchange of resources and exploring creativity as a relational connecting was very much in tune with the life of City Wesleyan Church.

I certainly can't cover it all, but following are excerptsand randoms from letters I sent to my prayer teams this summer.

For image sake

Wanderlust

...is one of my favorite words. I think it might be a clinical assessment of what I've got. The condition is growing and, well, I have no intention of curbing this. Over the next few days you'll find posts relating to my travels this summer and into the fall. I'm writing first about Australia. I'll write about Croatia and Bosnia next. I'll end with Austria, Italy and Poland.

Here we go...

I don't know why I'm doing this. I generally have a specific disdain for blogs. People really think other people want to know about stuff... just stuff... and it gives anyone a forum and I think it's a big break in the levy... "Hey everyone, come on in! Publish WHATEVER YOU WANT!!!!" I don't like the lack of filtration. And people who really don't have good ideas at all are gaining a following. People become addicted to posting. They do things specifically to post them later on. They create pretend lives. And then it makes people think they have relationships with people that they don't really have.

It also stresses me out. "Can I keep up with my friend's blogs!?", "Can I post frequently enough? When do I know if I'm posting too much!?" I couldn't even handle the "creating a blog" pressure. I couldn't seem to come up with, at least, an adequate sign-in name that wasn't already occupied. I felt like my mom trying to program our first VCR. It took 15 minutes to come up with something very un-creative. But I'm here.

But this is peer pressure in the early part of this century. This is what "everybody's doing it" looks like at this point in time; it's blogging. This is what "everyone" is doing... atleast the everyone I know... which are largely my college friends.

Actually, I thought a pre-requisite for having a blog was having a kid and I don't, so I didn't think I would have anything pertinent to blog about amongst this group. I've been told not to worry about. I've been advised to blog anyway.

So, all things considered, here we go.