A Wedding Website
I put together a wedding section of dualravens. There you’ll find a wedding blog, as well as assorted other information related to the wedding.
We’ll be updating it as we go with such information as registry, location, and all kinds of other thoughts as they come or as they are needed.
Wander over to The Wedding.
Coming Together
Tanabata is a Japanese festival celebrated each year on July 7th. It celebrates the coming together of Orihime and Hikoboshi, the stars we call Vega and Altair. In Japanese folklore they are celestial lovers, separated by the river of the Milky Way, except for one day a year.
According to Wikipedia:
Orihime the daughter of the Tentei wove beautiful clothes by the bank of the Milky Way. Her father loved the cloth that she wove and so she worked very hard every day to weave it. However, she was sad that because of her hard work she could never meet and fall in love with anyone. Concerned about his daughter, Tentei arranged for her to meet Hikoboshi sometimes called Kengyuu who lived and worked on the other side of the Amanogawa River (Milky Way). When the two met, they fell instantly in love with each other and were shortly married. However, once married, Orihime no longer would weave cloth for Tentei and Hikoboshi allowed his cows to stray all over Heaven. In anger, Tentei separated the two lovers across the Amanogawa River and forbade them to meet. Orihime became despondent at the loss of her husband and asked her father to let them meet again. Tentei was moved by his daughter’s tears and allowed the two to meet on the 7th day of the 7th month if Orihime worked hard and finished her weaving. The first time they tried to meet, however, they found that they could not cross the river because there was no bridge. Orihime cried so much that a flock of magpies came and promised to make a bridge with their wings so that she could cross the river. If it rains, the magpies cannot come and the two lovers must wait till next year.
This festival is celebrated, in part, by tying wishes and poetry to the bamboo.
This is noteworthy to me now because I was at the Huntington Library this past Sunday, and was surprised by all the little children about dressed in traditional Japanese clothing.
Amy was down for the weekend from Portland, her first visit to California since we became more than friends. She met my parents the day before. We went kayaking in Newport. On the 4th we walked around Pasadena, had cheese and salmon on french bread along with cans of Cactus Cooler. We watched The Castle and fireworks shooting out from the Rose Bowl.
So, the weekend had been a nice time already.
I had made reservations at the Tea Room at the Huntington Library Rose Garden and so we wandered over there around 10:30 in the morning, slowly made our way past the entrance, around the statue garden, through the occasional spider web, and finally to tea. It was, as one might expect, delightful. Finger sandwiches, strawberry tea, rude people at other tables we happily laughed at, not letting anything interfere. Our bond is joy and good humor and ease in each other’s presence.
We walked more among the roses after that, sitting for a bit on a bench, enjoying the warming California day. It was hot, to be sure. But quite a nice treat for her to see both blue sky and yellow sun.
We walked some more through the gardens. Through the semi-tropical forest, into Australia, then spending a long while in the desert. We watched the lilypads, felt the bamboo, and enjoyed wondering about the gazes of the various marble gods and heroes and figures.
We ventured into the old Huntington mansion. Recently re-opened after many years of restoration. There was art on the walls, fancy furniture about.
It was all delightful.
Then to the Japanese garden, following the costumed children wandering through the grounds. We found the answer to our question there. It was Tanabata. Apparently, even though it was the sixth, it was the day to celebrate the coming together of two celestial lovers who had had lived lives of many trials separating them for far too long.
Such was a fitting festival.
We walked back through the Japanese scenery, across the little stream, back to the Rose Garden where we sat on a bench once more. People walked along the sidewalk not too far away but it felt isolated because there were many rose bushes and trees and other flora walls between us and them.
There were no more barriers between us, neither river, nor mountain. Time and space, the work of not the gods but of God had brought us to this moment.
“Amy,” I said, leaning towards her and reaching into my pocket at the same time. “will you marry me?”
“Of course,” she replied, without even a slight moment of hesitation. I had the ring in my hand and I put it onto her finger. I kissed her.
“Will you marry me?” I asked again–just to make sure she knew what I was saying.
“Yes. Yes. Yes.” She replied.
And at the Huntington Library, sitting amidst the bright roses, on a hot July 6th 2008 I became engaged to Amy Gustafson. Engaged to be wed. She my wife, I her husband.
Real and surreal.
Such is the way of celestial lovers no longer separated.
But by a temporary bit of time and space until January 3.
Hi!
Ever since my post on missional I’ve been neglecting the running commentary that is the Ravens. Been distracted. A mission, so to speak.
I’m going to continue being distracted from written commentary until next Thursday, so hold on, I’ve things brewing in my head but haven’t quite gotten the focus to get them down. Unless, of course, inspiration strikes and I just gotta write it down.
Have a wonderful, happy, joyous 4th of July!!
Patrick’s Portland Restaurant Pointers
Over the past few months I’ve had a chance to visit Portland on a couple of extended trips. Even more I visited Portland to visit someone who inspires exploration.
When I was up there last the weather was, frankly, not very inspiring. Overcast skies throughout, with regular rain and only very occasional glimpses of the sun (though these were handily placed on days that were set aside for being out, so it was okay).
But, even if the weather here in SoCal suits me just fine I have to say the restaurants there in the north are more my style.
A few stand out, and one has become what I think is my favorite place to eat anywhere.
I’m not fancy or looking for chic style or polished atmosphere. I’m looking for good unique food, in good unique settings, with fair enough prices. Having good beverages is a great plus.
First on my list is Queen of Sheba in Portland. It’s a no-frills, kind of a hole in the wall, Ethiopian restaurant located in a fairly nondescript part of Portland. The decor is pretty utilitarian and the space is pretty tight. But the food is very, very good, served in the traditional Ethiopian way.
The second is Noho’s. It’s Hawaiian food. Good sized portions, good prices, and authentic in taste and casualness. Maybe it helped that we ate there on a Sunday afternoon that actually had sun shining. But, I imagine having a taste of the islands on a rainy day would do a heart very good indeed.
The next one on my list isn’t at all obscure except for those who don’t live in the Northwest. It’s a chain. But that doesn’t quite describe it all that well. Because while we can assume that every Chili’s in the country looks pretty much the same, has the same menu, and atmosphere it’s absolutely not that way with McMenamin’s. We went to three locations during my visits. The first was McMenamin’s Tavern and Pool, located in Portland and lives up to its name, being a pub with pool tables. Nothing extravagant or particularly out of the ordinary. Good pub atmosphere, good food, and good drinks–I highly recommend the Terminator Stout. I remember it mostly, however, because it was the first restaurant I went to with Amy in Portland, on the first day of my first trip up there, just after spending a fair while at Powell’s bookstore. We were so cute and unsure and cautious about where things were going then. Now we’re just cute.
The next one we went to gave me a lot more insight into the McMenamin’s experience. On our way back from exploring the Columbia River Gorge Waterfalls we stopped at McMenamin’s Edgefield. McMenamin’s is unique in that they don’t just have little restaurants. They buy up historic sites and make a whole McMenamin’s experience out of them. Edgefield was built in 1911 as a European style resort. And it is still run this way, with a hotel, spa, and all kinds of other relaxing diversions, including a number of different places to eat and drink on the grounds. We ate outside, where mostly grilled food was served. I had a big ol’ hamburger, tater tots, and good conversation. A storm was beginning to arrive while we were there and for a little while, until the table with an umbrella next to us opened up, we sat and ate and drank while being gently sprinkled. There was lightning in the distance and a rainbow on the horizon.
The third McMenamin’s I went to was Kennedy School. And it was just that. A school, an elementary school, bought by McMenamin’s and made into a restaurant/hotel. Totally unique and fun.
The fun thing about McMenamin’s is that while the drinks stay the same, the menu’s are unique, with some exceptions, and they make it so a person wants to visit all the locations.
Next on the restaurant list is a good German restaurant, Gustav’s. There’s polka music playing as you walk in. They serve free lemonade while you wait for your table. There’s very good German food and a great selection of German beers. Can’t go wrong with that.
Finally, is what has become my favorite place to eat. Salvador Molly’s. They call it Pirate Cooking, and that’s not so much because the staff wear eye patches or fake parrots and says “arrrr!” a lot. There’s nary a “shiver my timbers” to be heard. So get that image out of your mind. Instead, it’s good world cooking, the kind of cooking that seafarers might find in a circumnavigation. The setting is as casual as can be found. It’s in a little strip mall, right across from a McMenamin’s in fact. But the food is extraordinary in diversity, portions, and price. More than that, however, extraordinary in taste. I had the Ginger Peanut Chicken Breast and Amy had the Kalua Pork. Because we were quite a bit hungry on that late afternoon we shared the Rasta Rings; well, we shared our meals too. Add to this the selection of mixed drinks–rum being their specialty. The service is great and relaxed, making us feel instantly comfortable.
After filling up on delicious food, I got out of my seat, sat next to Amy and we watched Big Brown entirely not win the Belmont Stakes.
So there you go. Those are my Portland culinary discoveries–places I fully expect to eat at the next time I’m in Portland and places that go a very, very long way in making the awful weather seem not all that bad.
an update
Hi.
I’ve not posted in a bit of a while. The pictures below have been part of the reason. As has an accompanying peace in just getting away from the usual topics.
I’m starting to get back into the swing of things. My goal for this summer is to learn German. Read theology. And generally get my mind and being geared up for PhD studies this Fall. So, hopefully, this means some thoughts will wander though my brain and seek a bit of light hereabouts.
In the meantime, I have a couple interesting links.
Kristin Myers has a post on boycotting Amazon, which connects to a post written by Wess Daniels. Both are interesting. I’ve added my thoughts in the comments over at both blogs. I want to make note of Kristin too because she is an interesting writer coming at various topics as a graphic designer. When I TAed a class last summer on Emerging/Missional churches she wrote one of the most fascinating papers I read.
Wess is also worth noting again and well worth visiting regularly. He is, I think, one of the key future leaders/thinkers of the Society of Friends. His efforts have really sparked my own hopes the Quakers have a fruitful future and might be able to even reignite more in this present spiritual climate. Brilliant and thoughtful guy.
A nice day
Had a little day out this past Saturday. Went to Multnomah Falls, and parts thereabouts. Here are some pics:
out of the habit
I’ve fallen out of the blog habit. That’s not just about being distracted or not having something to say. It’s a change from once noticing something and wanting to note it to noticing something and keeping it to myself. Which is a curious thing because this has coincided with a recent growth in traffic around here. Just when folks show up I go quiet. Go figure.
Being that I am, at my core, self-analytical I step back and notice my recent quiet and wonder what is happening with me. I don’t know off hand, and maybe writing it out might be just the blog Drano (Bloggo? “Able to clear out even your most persistent mental blocks”) that’s needed.
I think I can notice some of the contributory issues. The first came when I was discussing my trip last month to Duke. I had intended to discuss the various sessions I attended and add some thoughts. Moltmann was the primary speaker at the conference but I don’t have too many thoughts about his presentation. My mind was fairly muddled in the crowded evening sessions and honestly, I admit humbly, I didn’t really pick up what was being said. I was more into the culture of the moment than the context and all the words on science/theology slipped right by for the most part. The other sessions were significantly more stimulating and thought provoking.
So much so that I never got around to writing on them. That’s an odd thing to say, I know. But here me out–after a brief, related, tangent.
A little while back my friend Sonja nominated me for a subversive blogger award.
“Subversive bloggers are unsatisfied with the status quo, whether in church, politics, economics or any other power-laden institution, and they are searching for (and blogging about) what is new (or a “return to”) – even though it may be labeled as sacrilege, dangerous, or subversive.”
See, I’m so subversive that I didn’t jump on the bandwagon right away but waited a while. I’ll be subversive on my own schedule, dagnabbit!
But I guess I am subversive. Powerless, so not nearly as potent in my subversion as real subversiveness should demand. But I’m not sure if the ability to actually subvert is necessary for the title of subversive. Authoritarian governments will act on even a hint or word of subversiveness in word, thought, or deed so I guess that’s the standard I’ll submit to in my subversivity.
I’m a little wary, however, about noting this fact–still in my tangent here, I’ll let you know when it’s over–because I’ve realized for a little while I’m the wrong kind of subversive. I’m the kind other subversives don’t like to have around because I find the biggest joy in being subversive of the subversives. I’m a traitor to the cause because I’m not attacking from the position of traditional stances. I’m no Reformed theologian seeking to dismiss challenges to my elegant mansion of cards. I’m the guy who doesn’t want reforming to stop once it gets moving and I tend to notice the distractions of those I think are on their way somewhere more than those who I think have already contributed what they have to contribute.
I get feisty when I see Quakers not being Quaker enough or emerging churches dancing around new terms while illustrating old patterns. Which makes me a little uncomfortable, with myself and with others around me. Because I’m liable to be critical just when everyone thinks they are safe from criticism, among their own kind.
You know how you can tell the real subversives? They all dress alike and like to gather in conferences, lit by the glow of their apple logoed laptops, to celebrate their shared subversivity, nominating leaders by popular acclaim to help them best understand where they might be most effective in subversion this coming year. They also don’t want to be nailed down on specific thoughts, lest those specific thoughts become unfashionable during the next subversion season. A real subversive reads the right books–now helpfully properly labeled as such by our subversive oriented mainstream publishers–and quotes the right thinkers and talks about old traditions and polyorthodoxy and neo-monasticism all while not having not really committed much at all to the actual writings of the past, thus doomed to repeat the establishment that cemented the subversion.
So, I’m wary about being labeled subversive because it takes a lot of money to be properly subversive in all the acceptable ways.
To be sure, it’s easy to be subversive now, what with the multi-million dollar subversive industry helping subversives and subversives-to-be ease into the role, mostly by teaching them how to be entirely traditional in use of power and influence and authority while using catchy lingo and scented candles and name tags slung around the neck.
What does subversive really mean?
According to wikipedia “Sub- is a prefix derived from Latin, meaning ‘under’, ‘below’, or ‘less than’.” So, ‘to subvert’ is to be less than versive or to be below versive. Clearly, we’re getting at something here (and yes, I’ve now made a tangent off the tangent).
Which leads us to think about what we’re below or less than. ‘Vert’, if by chance you have forgotten, is defined according to my Webster’s New World Dictionary as:
1 [Brit.] a) [Archaic] the green growth of a forest, as cover for deer b) [Historical] the right to cut green wood in a forest.
2 Heraldry the color green: indicated in engravings by diagonal lines downward from dexter to sinister
It derives from the Latin viridis which means ‘green’ and more specifically from the verb virere, ‘to be green’. So, literally, to be subversive means being “less than green” and so with that in mind I proudly accept the nomination of being a subversive blogger, because I probably am even more than I allow myself to be (just hinted back at the initial point of this post) and because, as the song says it’s not easy to be green, so I’m just as happy being somewhere below that.
And below that is where I’ve been for a little while, below most everything really, under the radar, temporarily distant from the blog conversation, not chopping at the wood of the forest, green or otherwise.
It’s because of my particular subversiveness I figure (and now I’m getting fully back to the main point I started way above there). I wrote a little on the Orthodox charismatic priest I heard speak at the conference, realizing one of my dear friends and regular readers is now a full member of the Orthodox Church, in love with its wisdom and feeling a spiritual depth that is so wonderful to hear about–she is also being immensely subversive in her context by doing this.
Why would I want to write about my various issues that have kept me off that trail? I wrote, but held back a bit, because I’m fine with being silent, when someone else is clearly finding God in a certain direction. I stopped, however, before I got to write on the session on pacifism, which included Stanley Hauerwas and Glen Stassen. Because I had it in my mind to write a terrible subversive post that brought out some of my particular thinking on the topic of pacifism that would have made not a single soul happy. It would have gone at some of the expressed thoughts of other dear friends, and the long held stance of my publisher. I sat on it for a while, never got around to writing it, restraining myself from subverting those who have been supportive. I subverted my own subversion in order to not offend the subversives who have been welcoming and inviting and friendly to me. I undermined my blogging to not undermine my belonging.
Which is at the root of it. I’m tired of isolating myself. I’m tired of being subversive even if I can’t help to be so in so many of my expressions. I don’t want to be subversive, you see. I want to be a good little Christian who is able to have a nice existential-angst-free job and a decent house on a bit of land, supportive of my hobbies and my burgeoning family. I’m tired of being provoked to theological education in order to find out the poverty-inducing answers myself for the questions that everyone else in my life dodged or didn’t know. I’m tired of making contacts and acquaintances only to be included just long enough for me to say what I really think and then being not included because I am, in essence, not conforming to acceptable subversivity. I don’t want to subvert. I want to belong.
I’m tired of subversiveness, but of course because it’s not my goal but my essence I’m not going to likely change. I can’t help it because it’s not something I’m trying to do, it’s my very self I’m trying to express. I learned at Wheaton that I see things differently than those around me, sometimes in helpful and sometimes in irritating ways. I’m not content with the establishment being established and I don’t feel any ability to let the subversives be free in their subversion. I poke and prod because that’s just how I think. It’s the one quality, I think, that has pushed me farther into theology. I’m not the brightest or the most diligent and certainly not the best at meeting all the right people. I see things in a different, creative, way and in my attempts to earnestly express my notions somehow find myself, again, being below the green and coming up with a unique connections that catch the ear of a a few established subversive theologians.
I very, very much want to belong. There’s rest and peace in that. But I guess I want more to be who I am. I’d rather subvert than conform, even if it means conforming to the subversivity. I’ll subvert the conformation, undermining in my wan way the great and mighty established subversives, in order to hold onto the perspective and pursuit of wholeness and stillness that seems to be the true Spirit sign of rightly located conforming. I will continue to subvert so that I might best conform, even as I temporarily stepped back from expressing my subversiveness because I’m weary of not conforming to the more immediate locations of established subversion.
I wish I could stay quiet more, but I want to speak and talk and interact. I want to conform but the subversion leaks out, just when I’m included I tend to be excluded. I don’t find rest in the establishment or the non-conformists, neither slave nor free, but somehow have this drive to keep saying what is deep within to say even as I often realize it’ll not be ingratiating. Sometimes I blame God for not letting me find peace and participation in any direction.
I resonate with Jeremiah.
Jeremiah 20:7ff:
O LORD, you deceived me, and I was deceived ;
you overpowered me and prevailed.
I am ridiculed all day long;
everyone mocks me.Whenever I speak, I cry out
proclaiming violence and destruction.
So the word of the LORD has brought me
insult and reproach all day long.But if I say, “I will not mention him
or speak any more in his name,”
his word is in my heart like a fire,
a fire shut up in my bones.
I am weary of holding it in;
indeed, I cannot.
Indeed, I cannot hold it in. Though, on a blog I can sometimes try for a little while. And that’s what I’ve done. To rest, to distract myself with happy realities, and to maybe somehow maybe play at being a part even if playing that role successfully means no lines for me.
I’m not sure why this has meant no pictures of birds or scenery or other random thoughts. I’ve gotten out the habit of blogging so the random things don’t immediately drive me to note them. I’ve been stuck, I suppose, between the depths and the shallows, caught on a crag. hanging out with the green.
I’m not sure if this post means a change in that. It all comes down to whether or not I muster up the fortitude to be free in my subversity once more, come what may. I suspect pictures of the birds, for whatever reason, go along with that. I also suspect the ravens that are hanging out near me right now could answer that for sure if I just knew the right way to ask. Otherwise, they’ll just laugh at me because I can’t, quite truthfully, fly.
ups and downs
I’ve not posted a lot of late. And I’m not sure why. Seems like sometimes my thoughts introvert, hide away and stew a bit. Or they privatize, wandering about while mildly put off by exposure. Or they rest, not really all that stimulated by the usual topics. Or they wait, as life enters into a mild vacation of sorts for a brief time until all manner of activity explodes. Or they are reduced by a Spring cold, blocked by mild headache, sore throat, and congestion for a little over a week.
Sometimes all of these at once. Which is the season I’m in now.
Last Monday I got home from a ten day trip to the Portland area. I know a number of people from that part of the world, oddly enough, but that wasn’t my reason for going. My reasons were much more narrow. And happy. Very happy as it turned out.
Went up to visit Amy, to see if there was a spark.
There was. Quite a spark. By the end of the week the spark ignited. We’re working out what it means to be so close so far away. I suspect for the time being it means a developing familiarity with airports.
Needless to say my mind wasn’t quite on the usual topics that have kept me occupied round these parts.
While up there I also had a chance to preach, something I’ve not done for a long while. A long, long while. Amy’s pastor was taking time off and I spoke on my book. I think it was a very good experience and had a good reception. I struggle at times because my book sales are still rather a lot low without any particular reason I can figure out, a frustration to be sure and one that I have to continually put into God’s hands. Yet, moments like those become encouragements, helping me to see again why I wrote what I did and helping me to see there is a need for more reaching out. I don’t know if it was recorded or not. If not then I’m going to re-record it and then also post the text.
A lot of my life is in flux right now. I don’t know where I’ll be living this summer or this fall. I might move down to Pasadena to be closer to Fuller–I’d like to–but other considerations abound. I might take summer school–French or German–though I might just try to be diligent in self study so as to test out of my language requirements. I am trying to finish another book before all the school stuff starts, though I’m mixed in motivation. My present sales heartily discourage, the whole effect of writing on my heart and soul encourage.
I stumble and lose faith and hope. I doubt that good things will remain good. I hope that God is working. I trust that he will lead to where he wants me to be. I pray he will continue to teach and develop and hone. Doubts abound but so do hopes. I hope to hold onto that hope, to see where it might lead.
I smile and I wonder and I laugh and I ponder and I fear and I dream. I want to say so much, yet wonder who is listening. I want to stay silent, yet wonder if I should speak. I want to dance and also hide in the corner at the same time. Good and wonderful things are developing. But the ship has not yet reached port.
So I’ll just keep my wits about me and pray for fair winds.
distracted
I got back into posting and then fell off. Well, there are a few reasons for that. One is because of that Amazon Vine program I talk about occasionally, where I get a few free items each month in exchange for a review posted on their website. A few days ago I got Windows Vista Ultimate SP1 and between the weather being extraordinary and having to unload programs, do a fresh install of a new operating system, and reload programs on my desktop I’ve not been thinking about the usual posts. Vista works quite wonderfully, by the way. Very beautiful. I’m quite impressed.
Now I feel better about avoiding the ostentation of the white middle class bourgeoisie that is Macintosh. 
The other reason is because I’ve a post brewing in my head on my conference experiences that relates to the session on peace. I very much enjoyed the session, but have some questions and thoughts which are, well, political. I’ve a political side to me that I don’t often express any more, not least because most of those who I know and who I resonate with on so many other issues tend to have sharply different political opinions. And being that my publisher is associated with the Quakers, it’s not entirely fitting that I spend time talking about my various thoughts on war and peace.
I’m somewhat in a murky middle on that issue, and might be offensive to different sides. So, that post is still brewing. And the brewing process tends to get in the way of other thoughts.
But I do have a few pictures of a chipmunk that I’ll be posting today.
The weather is quite cold and overcast this morning. Though, yesterday I did get some more software in the mail: CorelDraw Suite x4. It seems quite, quite user friendly and robust (without having the dreaded Adobe bloat) so I might get caught up in that instead.
