When I Am, I'm Not

The moments when I am most successfully creative, the most God-like, I'm the most humbled. Because it's then that I realise I'm not really anything like God...

A Comment Rehashed

I put the following comment on someone else's blog, and re-reading it I found me strongly agreeing with myself. So I'm turning it into a post on my own blog. It's kinda weird and kinda cool to quote oneself -- I should remember that in conversation 'cause wouldn't that be fun?

"We're in a really wierd era. Catastrophe causes mediated titillation, but everyone's forgotten how to feel. And because of that, when it hits close to home, grief turns toxic.

That's the same thought that struck me after seeing Children of Men when someone commented it would make a good video game. This is the world we've made for ourselves, a culture of emotional opportunism. Now we're left wondering how to fix it..."

Best Quote I'll Hear All Day

"It ceases to be a devil when it ceases to be a god."

Could be applied to so many things...

Word of the Era

I'm not going to do something dumb like commit to a word of the day. So until next time, here's the Word of the Era:

dysphemism:
The opposite of euphemism; a crass word or phrase is used instead of a polite or neutral one. I'm not sure how many times I'm going to use this in a sentence, but now I can.

Too Close. Too Far.

A large chunk of my life was spent playing in the blood red African soil. From tag (where it's called 'touches') to rugby, my childhood sweat and blood have mixed into the dirt, and it's deep, unconquerable human truths have in turn been abraded into me.

I've spent the ensuing years trying to figure out what that means -- I don't think I'll ever get it. But this quest seems entirely fitting as this generation enters a global identity crisis. When one product, one brand, one financial strategy has so much unreprecedented and unpredictable power for good or evil, we each need to wrestle with this. Where we can suddenly see in webcams the damage we inflict with bombs we are (almost) right back to fighting hand-to-hand. Soon the victims will have more personality than the combatants, perhaps that's as it should be. Can we not come to a solution in this to undermine war? Hatred? Mistrust? And then work together to fight poverty? Disease? Oppression?

I'm coming to a new awareness. I'm living into the reality of words I've said my whole life. Beautiful words about harmony, unity, peace. About being able to achieve any dream. They're sullied when you don't really mean them. When you scorn people that are trapped by their circumstances. Their powerlessness. Even their own decisions.

I wonder at people. We have the power to destroy the world several times over. I'm not just talking bombs. I'm talking about every product, every cleaning chemical, power generation, everything. And in comparison, what do we make that has the power to heal?

I tell you what. The first step toward healing is to learn how wounded you really are. Please take a look at this short film called Bloodline. It's shockingly and crushingly sad. This shows you a reality you already know -- now it just gives it a name and a face. What's your role in the world? Well that's your journey. That's your own quest. This is my invitation you to engage and participate. This isn't a call to a specific action. Just to action.

After you watch, feel free to pop back here and debrief...

Ignore, Retry, Fail -- Y/N?

Memories in human brains have no off. Or reset. Try a happy pill. Try a sedative. Try a laxative. A long drawn-out note played on a smooth jazz station -- all sizzle and no steak. I'm the sincere voice telling you it's great. Don't say anything insensitive about the humanoid aliens, because we're all people sharing the same universe. New and improved flavour -- disregard the thiamine hydrochloride. And 0, 5, 5, 7, 1, 2, 1, 0, 0, 1, 4, 2. And the fact that you don't even know what those mean. Trust the machine, and the unseen fingers with their unseen callouses from unknown places and races all ground up and processed down into your breakfast cereal. Now 50% more candier. More marshmallowier. And supposably more juicier. (And everyone says "I could care less", which too is meaningless.)

If you quit you're just giving up. Don't turn off, turn down, tune out. Imagine what you'd miss. Never ask a question you don't know the answer to. A bullet in the guts, and you can watch it's trajectory. That's t-r-a-j-e-c-t-o-r-y. The place is clean from clues, but wait for the confession to follow the fourth ad break. Like a breaking news story that broke some time last week. You just need five uranium pills to power your house for a year. How many pills for how many houses for how many years? And what do you do with them when they're done? Wanna know? Stay tuned for the next breaking story...

Don't you long for a simpler, better time? Now you can have it with a brand new flatscreen, widescreen LCD TV. It's brighter than your dull reality. And wider too. Let's see, a brow lift, tummy tuck, tooth veneers, breast implants, full-body liposuction. This show sponsored by Scalpel and Syringe, brand names for high-quality self-delusion. Watch now as she spins on a record player -- her own seductive soundtrack and male-gaze fixation. We'd go almost as far as saying how she's fully ****able, but this is a family station. Edgy humour is funny until it's replaced by edgier humour. But haven't I heard that laugh track before?

Screaming in a Soundproof Room

A dream is a myriad of disconnected thoughts trying to weave themselves into plot points. Hello and welcome to tonight's episode of the sedentary life. You're instructed to sit and wait it out. It will all be over soon. The world is polluted, the food supply is contaminated with genetic modification, and animal life that we haven't even identified yet is dying. You should care. All this and more, after these messages.

Are you thinking about sex right now? Why not? Is there something wrong with you? Well isn't there? Is your body already letting you down? Yeah, you probably should be concerned. But we can help. We're the corporate smooth operators; call now -- someone will be on the line to assist you. Celebrate your unachievable advertising-land dreams, and your comparative mediocrity with vigour. We have the solution to put you to sleep, to wake you up, to make you forget, and to invent some [wink] meaningful friendships. Lonely? Sad? Horny? Great! Think of me as your rich uncle, with a professional manicure.

Oh welcome back. Look who's been saying naughty things. Well, we can't tell you what he said, but we can show you the clip. "I'll tell you that she's a [beep] [beep], that's for sure." In the footage, notice the pixelated censor marks. Ignore the war, the changing climate, the extortionist fuel prices, but pay careful attention to the witty banter. Allow yourself to laugh a little. Feel better? And for those of you just joining us, here again are the pixelated censor marks. Intriguing, aren't they?

Got questions? Got pain? Get solutions! Call 1-800-DIVERSIONS-R-US, and we'll help you ignore life's bigger questions. Are you still trying to be a social activist? Are you holding out for real change? We need your money! Is life going too fast, or are you just living too slow? Maybe you need a bigger car, a bigger house, a better job or a brand new and improved spouse 2.1 with all the latest upgrades 2,000 years of medical science can provide. Downloading 76% done...

[I've just finished Douglas Coupland's JPod, and thought I'd try to write something inspired by his style. I think it's very me 2.0.]

How 'Netro'

I've been having a realisation that I quite enjoy. Every historical medium is now being available on the web. Writing, audio, video, recorded and stored indefinitely, or performed live and gone. It's all there. The written word is important again. The spoken word is important again. Images, motion picture, every medium we've ever known -- it's all there.

Despite the fact that it's flawed, co-opted, diluted and polluted, the internet is living up to all the dreams that everyone has had for it. It's re-becoming an encyclopedia and a self-regulating democratic conversation forum and turning away from being just the corporate catalogue that it seemed doomed to become.

The internet doesn't bring us much new in and of itself, but it summarises everything that has gone before it, and that has immense value. Hopefully we'll be able to make some semblance of sense of things before we are propelled on to what's next.

Oh, Now I Get It

"If it bleeds, it leads." Why is the mediated news always bad? Because people don't know how to care if it isn't. Good news and celebrations don't carry nearly as far as tragedy -- especially if the tragedy keeps compounding and growing. People meet each other better in times of pain, sorrow and suffering. It's where people become most clearly who they really are. It is humanly natural to learn and to feel in defeat. What can you learn from something good? Less. That's just truth. (edited addition: In fact, it is now such a cliched truth that we have become almost entirely desensitized. We are so over-exposed to pain that feeling anything is actually hard work.)

I've (re)discovered this recently in quite a number of situations that are close to me. Now I'm trying to figure out how to deal with the realisation. Do I exploit it, and play that tune more? Or do I play its relative major? I'm not entirely sure. Maybe I'm just beginning to understand that I need to tell more stories, happy and heart-wrenching.

I think this will find its way into my psyche. And I plan to honour the abundance of the life I've been given.

Just When You Think You're Getting It...

Unfortunately, this is impossible to avoid: this post is going to get weird.

I heard someone say recently that she feels like she's trying to quench people's thirst with her own. (That's using some poetic license, but her intent is there.) We have a church that has worked so hard to make a place where nobody wants to be. Structures have been built within them that reflect no-one's current desires. The path of least resistance has led us here. And?

There's kind of a shrugging acknowledgement of the condition of the church. There isn't a place for the 'other', for the 'too different', for the 'problem' people, especially for those people who are suffering the natural consequences of their own choices and actions. There is a dirth of the grace we're supposed to extend. I'm crushed because I just realised that I'm fully guilty of what I'm saying – the role of the Christian is to be the face of Christ to a hurting, seeking, struggling world. A world that we seem to have detached ourselves from at every turn. Rather we look for a place where we feel comfortable, established and settled. Silly, silly us.

How many opportunities do we miss because our brains are locked into set paths? Tons. Resistance to the new is problematic at every level. When we have the chance to interject truth into life, there is instead a church-wide knee-jerk reaction made at a mass media level. We have failed. We fail to achieve what we claim to want to achieve, and instead find success' surrogate. The wall and boundaries get fortified and reinforced until they are in danger of toppling down on us.

I'm saying that homogeneity is the rule of the day within the Church. And I'm saying that gives us the gauge to show us by how far we're missing the point.

I have a despair about postmodernism. Whenever the dice land, we keep throwing them again. I've begun thinking about what's after postmodernism. (Is post-postmodernism ubermodernism?) But we can't underestimate the value in the constant questioning. This is still a pendulum swing away from not questioning nearly enough. And, I guess the followups are, "Are we questioning enough yet? And if not, when?"

Driving Them to Drink?

"You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink." Unfortunately there's a deep truth in there, or it wouldn't be a cliche. I say unfortunate because it's our job (as Christians) to be the living advertisement for the Water that Christ described himself as: the kind that you drink and never thirst again. In a very real sense, it's our job to provoke thirst. It's our job to show the chilled condensation on the glass, to be the delicate clink of ice, to be the frozen-instant crystal splash. When I watch the world from the vantage point of my couch, or pew, or cushy-supportive bucket seat, I kind of think we're not doing such a great job.

Let's stretch the marketing metaphor a little (I'm far from the only one doing so, luckily). We have to believe in our product. The whole "I'm not just the president, I'm also a member" thing. If Christ-followers are shaky on their beliefs, then it translates tentatively. I'm not suggesting that we all turn into streetside evangelists. (But if that's how you feel led...) We need to understand how perceptions have been propagated and reinforced over the decades, and make sure that we're not bailing into the same crevasses. I'm saying that we need humility in the presentation, but absolute confidence in the material. I am a vessel for truth, not the truth itself, and the cleaner and clearer I am, the better the truth can be seen.

We can't make people drink. But I wonder if we can't do a better job of making people want to drink.

A Fear Worth Hoping For

I live in a truly fascinating context. I'm surrounded by leaders. Most of them are a of a 'certain age', and by that I mean usually baby boomers. But they are facing tension-paradoxes themselves. They want to be modern in a postmodern world (or vice versa). They want to be relevant while remaining true to their roots. They want to be hip, fresh, cool, and all sorts of other terms best associated with world-famous cola. But I wonder if they recognise how much courage it takes to get there.

When I propose an idea, the reluctance I get is not from fear of inertia or backlash. No rather there's a real drive to change, to improve, to progress. And that's widely shared. Any reluctance simply comes from some unquestioned assumptions. For example we're changing the look of our quarterly publication. It won't look like a newsletter anymore -- it's a cross between a magazine and an annual report. But there's a degree of fear that goes with that because it's not as definable. My assertion is that we get to play Adam, and define such an animal the way we want to. It's defined by its purpose first, and how it looks second. And that goes for every part of the world.

I think our generation has benefited from getting used to computers at an early age. We are familiar with making sweeping changes on the fly, and if they don't work, there's always an undo button. Perhaps this is going to be the direction that culture moves quickly, in a wild cacophony of ideas. And when the next generation ascends to leadership, maybe they'll get me questioning a whole bunch of my own assumptions. That's a fear worth hoping for!

In Touch with the Transcendant

There seems to be a deep incompatibility between those who believe that you can have a personal relationship with God, and those who think you can't. But ask either side to explain it, and the perceived gap lessens dramatically.

In the Bible, those directly confronted with the supernatural are first instructed, quite appropriately it would seem, "Fear not!". Nice gesture, but rather absurd given the situation(s). You know, throngs of operatic angels. You're going to give birth to God. Your dead kid isn't. The appearance of Jesus with flaming eyes and a sword for a tongue. I gotta say, a little "Fear not" just wouldn't do it for me! How many in the world expect a God like that, and live every day like they mean it? Not enough.

Another New Year

The calendar tells me that we have begun a new year. I've been wondering recently what would happen if I intentionally forgot what year I was born, and how my life would change if I actively ignored the clocks and calendars that surround me. But for one more year, I'm going to put aside such radical notions, and actively conform to our societal structures (y'know, more or less). Next year, we'll see...

Anyway, to take convention to its natural destination, here are this year's resolutions. I am going to try to feel more. Why I don't feel as much as I should is a mystery to me, and I don't really know if I want to feel more (ah yes, the paradox of actively wanting and passively not wanting), so that might be the trickiest. The other ones are easier.

I'm going to be more assertive. I'm paid to be the loudest, clearest and best idea "seller". Everybody in communications is. It's time I figured out what that means for me, and took the implied authority in that role seriously. (Rather than just being concerned with my competition, for example.) And often I've prevented myself from saying things because they seemed so obvious to me. I figured that everyone had already considered and disregarded my idea out of hand. But as I've started to express myself, I've found that I really am unique. I'm going to explore that. I have a crazy number of ideas, and I'm going to start making it other people's responsibility to edit them. (Actually, as I think about it, a surprising number of my ideas are 'taking'. I'm not taking credit for, well, anything actually. It's just assuring that I'm not the only wacko out there.)

Finally, I'm going to take more risks. Not in a para-snowboarding-near-rusty-barbed-wire-fences kind of a way. (More like a motorcycle-rider-fascinated-with-watching-motorcycle-crash-victims-in-hospital-shows kind of a way. That raises the reality stakes like nothing else!) I'm talking about the way I treat life. I've been playing it too safe. I'm going to jump and trust more. I've been watching some people I know do that, and I'm tired of being the jealous bench-warmer. I started some of that in 2006, and, well, I think it's working for me.

In short, I think I want to be more human this year. That sounds like a resolution worth keeping!

I Jumped In!

I just bought a portable media player. It's capable of video playback, audio playback, and something that most aren't -- acting as a USB host. That means that theoretically I can take my camera's cards, and load them into the player on the fly -- great for storage with a 30GB hard-drive in it. It also has a crucial feature that is lacking in almost every other portable player: recording.

I don't know the level of quality that I can expect from the line-in recording, but I'm hoping that this will be the beginning of my ability to podcast. We'll see. With a built-in mic, it will certainly be sufficient to grab ambient sounds for certain projects. To me, a simple hard-drive recorder in itself is exciting! Lots of capacity, and quick transfer times.

I'm working to keep my blog entirely brand-name free (unless living martyrs counts, but it doesn't yet...), so I won't tell you either the name of the player (a discountinued clearance model anyway. Suffice it to say that it's not the ubiquitous white one that has become such an iCon), or the store where I bought it. Though I will say that if the player wasn't so cheap there, I never would have been tempted to darken the store's doors. So much for all this talk of 'experience' -- the sales associates were very keen to share their misinformed opinions, and offer all sorts of 'advice'. I'm glad I did research myself, and that I was able to examine the manual before I bought it. The player has a little card in it that says something along the lines of "if there are problems, let us know. Don't return it to the store." Needless to say I'm trusting the manufacturer significantly more than the retailer on this one. An interesting point for anyone who's keeping score in the branding game -- big box stores are getting in their own way, and the brand relationships could in fact be about ready to leapfrog them. Hmmm...

Anyway, I'm hoping for the best from this thing, and remaining cautiously optomistic. Its abilities are a dying breed in the marketplace (it's a jack-of-all-trades, which is perfect for someone in my shoes). I'm glad to have got it before they went entirely extinct. Silly unseens market forces seem to be forcing the creative flexibility out of such potentially handy devices. Now if it would only balance my checkbook, remind me of my next project's due date, and tie my infernal shoe-laces again. Well maybe its next model...

On the other hand, if I can only get this thing to play music and videos, and provide the odd bout of digital storage, then so be it. If it lives up to half of its potential, I'll be sufficiently happy.

Open Source Rules!

How could I ever have been skeptical? Oh yeah, here's how: A programmer buddy told me about Linux back in say, 1998. He was singing its praises. Then he tried to actually install it on his computer, and the honeymoon died on the vine (it's not mixed metaphors so much as a metaphor potpourri...). His hardware pieces couldn't speak to themselves, never mind each other. He tried for weeks, and finally re-installed Windows (Win98, I think...). It loaded itself, booted right every time, and he was a happy, happy man, saying things like, "Windows is a pretty slick piece of code". (Verging on heresy, according to his previous opinion!) That was my early brush with open source. Clear message to me: don't try this at home! Well, times have changed!

You probably haven't heard of Joomla. I hadn't until approximately two weeks ago. It's such a geek thing, a content management system (CMS in geek-speak) that is fully customisable, scalable, and all these other fancy words that used to mean "over my head". But no more!

Joomla (I'm not linking to it. Google it yourself, lazypants! Oh sure, go ahead and point out that it would have been easier to link to it than add this unnecessarily long disclaimer. I don't care. I'm stubborn!) is a brilliant solution to a problem that many webmasters face -- how do you organise your content? It does away with the concept of pages. (They're such a left-over from the analogue world anyway...) Instead every piece of content is on its own held together by an intricate (or not, your choice) system of menus. I couldn't find much to help me get going with it. I think that's because it's dead simple. Well, it is, and it isn't. You know what I mean. Right? And there's a whole bunch of community to help you out if you haven't been fitted with your php-decoding-wet-wire yet. (Yeah, and what are you waiting for, anyway!?)

Long story short, I came late to this open source party, but I'm here to stay. Barkeep? Keep me another shot of Joomla with an order of mambots on the side. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, that makes two of us. But it's fun, right? At least geeks have finally given themselves fun syllables to toss around... Mmmm, mambots...)

A New Development...

Living Martyrs was a company dedicated to excellence in graphic design and other somewhat related creative endeavours. That “project” no longer exists. Now livingmartyrs.com is my personal blog, and while I'm going to keep it like that, I'm about to re-re-vamp it.

In partnership with a few other individuals, I am trying to put together a collaborative team of communication specialists. There will be a place in Living Martyrs to express the collective desires of this group. If there is a perceived need for a new name, and a new home, I'm willing to consider that, but what I have right here, right now should be sufficient to make a decent start.

Some of the big developments reflect communication trends that are sweeping the world in general, and how the church can understand and assimilate the changes. It is interesting that the secular (esp. the corporate) world are talking about some key developments that the church should be leading, but is hardly even following. Just think about how many departments in any given segment are dedicated to “[blank] relations”. Public relations have been with us for several years, but there are newer ones like employee relations and customer relations, just for example. Now, how deep and important those relations really are to the organisations is entirely up for grabs. But the church needs to deeply value those relationships.

It's a “forever challenge”, but perhaps naming it clarifies our vision. Understanding that, and working together to make it happen, is what the new sub-site of Living Martyrs is all about.

There has been much talk about “Web 2.0”. That places a direct emphasis on relationship-building, and enabling feedback and dialogue to any given site from the constituents. That is part of the goal for this new project, so that we can enable that in and for other people & agencies.

Photography in a Mirror

I've recently been following a fascinating lecture series on the history of photography. (To me, this is the eptiome of the internet, that I can be exposed to big ideas, and significant historical research in a way that obliterates physical boundaries and adds fulfilment to both the instructor's life and mine. Hooray technology!) One thing that has come up again and again is that photography has never been clearly defined.

Even to this day, there is a lingering perception that photography isn't a pure art form as much as, say, painting. That is has borrowed from and lent to painting doesn't seem to help -- it actually makes it more convoluted and less distinct.

Photography was developed by some people that wanted to draw quicker, more efficiently and with more accuracy. What they ended up with was a medium that was vastly different than any other artistic expression. Typically art is creating. You start with a blank, and you work toward a finished expression. Photography is the opposite. You start with the world, and you edit. First you edit what you don't want out of the viewfinder. Then you edit how you want to capture that (viewpoint, lighting, etc.). And then you edit what you want to actually show.

This provides an excellent insight into my own head for what type of creativity I participate in. This realisation frees me to pursue editive creativity in a whole range of media, not just photography.

Lasting Childhood Memories

I just turned 31. It's a wierd age. I feel simultaneously old and young, kind of like I have ever since I turned 17, but more so. Maybe it's my recent birthday that's making me introspective, or maybe it's the fact that we're finally starting seriously to talk about having kids of our own. Or maybe those are linked somehow. Whatever it is, I'm starting to reflect on what it is (was) to be a kid.

I'm sure I was a highly unusual child. My parents have told me since that I was impulsively introspective and analytical. I don't know if other people have discovered things the way I did, but I thought I'd start a list of childhood traits, discoveries and misconceptions that I can remember from nearly 30 years ago. I'll add to it as stuff comes to mind.

(This may turn into a serial post. And then a book deal, and eventually global renown. Finally! It's taken me so long to figure out how to go about achieving it!)

::I remember the day when I was three or four that I discovered that I could move my eyes independently from my head. I remember intentionally holding my head still with my hands and looking around the room in amazement at this new trick I could perform. I'm pretty proud that I discovered that -- I'd obviously been doing that for years up until that point, but who actually discovered that themselves.

::It was pretty close to that time that I discovered that I swallow pretty regularly, even without putting anything in my mouth. I wondered if other people did that too, and what it was that I was swallowing anyways...

::When my stomach gurgled I used to think it was God talking to me. In the faith tradition I grew up in, it wasn't uncommon for people to talk about God talking to them in their heart, and I thought that's what was happening to me. Unfortunately though, I could never understand the message the first time, and I could never get God to repeat it.

::I remember watching the news on TV, and hiding behind the couch to pick my nose. The newscasters were looking right at me, so I assumed that they could see everything I did, and I was informed that nose-picking is rude. Come to think of it, that probably started a kind of paranoia that existed for at least the first decade-and-a-half of my life. I'm over it now. Honestly. I think big brother is great! [vacant smile, blink, blink]

::I was sitting in church one time, bored out my bracket I'm sure (as any 9-or-so-year-old is apt to be), and I suddenly became aware that if I focussed on something close, the things in the distance doubled, and if I focussed on the things in the distance the out-of-focus stuff in the foreground doubled. That troubled me -- I thought my eyes were broken. It turns out, it's just a natural consequence of having two eyes...

::I had an imaginary friend. His name was Batchi. (I had a very exact spelling for Batchi that I can't for the life of me remember, but that's pretty close. I will also never know where that name originally came from.) He was the persona of my teddy bear that gradually became disassociated with it as I grew out of stuffed animals, and more internalised. I had an imaginary peanut gallery too, and they would mock and scoff if I did something dumb. Come to think of it, they never really very supportive of anything I did. Sometimes Batchi would side with them, and sometimes he would tell them to shut up. He wasn't very predictable. Man, if I start to get loopy in the last chapter of my life...!

::When I first learned the alphabet, I thought the letters l, m, n & o were all one letter. It must be the biggest letter I figured because it has such a long name, but of course saying "elemeno" simply got me positive reinforcement. No-one can see inside my brain. Luckily. For them!

::My Mom told me one day that we can count forever. I was entirely doubtful about that. Doubly so when she tried to prove it by counting to ten. It seemed all to finite for me. (What was I, four?)

Missionary POV: My One Curio

Pentax MZ-6 w/ 18-35mm
Fuji Superia 400 ISO
Natural light (overcast sky)

I didn't bring back anything from Ukraine except pictures. I was told there might be hassles getting things through customs, and what I didn't need at the end of that trip was hassles. Or having to resort to lying. Anyway this image shows a typical display of Ukrainian dolls at an outdoor market. The actual picture is nearly twice the size, but I think this is a pretty good crop to show the pattern (the whole) and detail (the individual) together at blog pic rez.

Missionary POV: Church Staircase

Pentax *ist DL w/18-55mm
ISO 200 (everything is recorded in digital -- duh! [see previous posts])
Natural light through window behind camera

This is the staircase leading up to where the MorningStar Church meets. The shot was on a tripod, and was made with a 6s exposure. I love it for its rustic-yet-ornate character. This is the kind of flair that's hard to find in anything modern in the country, and like just about everything there, seems underappreciated for what it is (whatever it is). If I was a high-end fashion photographer, I would shoot models in buildings like this. What an incredible set of contrasts that would be!

Missionary POV: Unnatural Conclusion

Pentax *ist DL w/ 18-55mm
ISO 400? (Probably. Or thereabouts...)
Available early morning light.

Shot when I woke up a good hour before anyone else in Kramatorsk -- obviously not following my regular sleep pattern. Someone asked me if I took the phone off the hook for this shot. I assured her that I'm not that creative. I like the incompleted story this shot refers to. Who was talking? What were they talking about? What was said to make this person leave? I'll never know.

I have people pictures to post on the blog, but I really should get permission before they just randomly show up all over the place. :-)

Missionary POV: Dnepro at Night

Pentax *ist DL w/ 18-55mm
ISO 200? (My memory is not so...um, what was I saying?)
Available light.

I love the perspective in this shot. It's a main road in Dnepro. The image was very dark, but with some post-processing (contrast adjustment and a touch of desaturation to reduce the outrageous resulting colours) I got a very useable result.

Missionary POV: Photos, Finally!

Pentax *ist DL w/ 18-55mm
ISO 400? (I can never remember when it's digital)
Available light.

Yep, the trip was crazy! Not all pictures are like this one, but I thought I'd start here. This is taken at night from a camera mounted to a tripod set on the floor shooting through the windshield of a car as it drove down a main road of Dnepro. Exposure time is about 30s -- the longest my camera can handle before I'm the one that has to start counting (bulb mode holds the shutter open indefinitely). It shows how bumpy the roads are there, among other things. I might turn this one into my desktop when I have a giddy day, or when I feel like I have to relive the travelling experience. :-)

Missionary POV: Successful Return

I'm back safe and sound, and perhaps almost in sync with Langley time. I didn't get out of the hotel in Vienna. I came up with a term for how I was feeling: novelty fatigue. I've been so immersed in "new" (new language, architecture, people, perspective) that when offered a good night's sleep between flights, I caved. The 5:00am wake-up call was in German -- well I hope it was a wake-up call. The only thing in German I'd be able to recognise besides "thank you" and "good-bye" is the phrase "My bicycle is broken." I don't know, it's something my parents used to say. (Come to think of it, if it wasn't a wake-up call, then who on earth is calling me at five o'clock in the morning, speaking German no less? That's some prank; I'll have to keep it in mind...)

The updates from this trip aren't over. For one thing I've got a bunch of pictures to post. Now that I'm back with my own computers and internet connection, it will be no problem to post them. I just need to get the film developed (I'm praying it didn't get fried by the numerous x-ray exposures), and go through those and the digital pictures to see what's worthy of posting here.

And as I work through what I learned and how I've been affected by this trip, I'll be including those thoughts here too.

Missionary POV: Grinding Sparks

I wrote this a few days ago, but never got the chance to post it.

I feel like I’ve being given a thorough grinding. When you apply a grinder to a piece of metal it usually becomes brighter and sharper. Oh, and smaller. It’s been a good experience, and one that I will never forget. And I’m still deep in the thick of it.

I went on walkabout yesterday, getting pictures of Dnepro that should give a good sense of the cityscape. That may be my last opportunity to get the “B roll” stuff. Mushtrutki (definitely not the proper spelling, these are public transit passenger vans), taxis and trolley busses were on the regimen, as well as the classic Ukrainian architecture, and park scenes in the sprawling downtown core. This seems like the perfect venue for outdoor concerts, something to keep in mind if I'm ever in a band that goes anywhere.

I’m officially over jet lag. That happened two nights ago, after I stayed up really late simultaneously watching TV and reading trying to tire my brain. It worked, although in retrospect, I was probably just due. That’ll hold me for the four sleeps that I have left.

As the departure date looms closer there are two things pushing forward in my brain. One is that I feel the need to capture everything, and there is still much to get. And the other is I have no idea how I’m going to get all of this condensed down to a presentable size. I’ve captured some pretty neat stuff (and there is a lot that I wonder if I got, and there is some that I just wasn’t rolling camera on -- oh well), and I’m already trying to mentally edit the piece together into a cohesive package.

And here’s some good/weird news. The digital camera that I feared had died, didn’t. It would have been very nice to have that handy today at the grad (a great celebration, by the way), but by trying about 5 widely varied sets AA batteries I was convinced that it had joined the choir invisible, and that it would be due for a warranty return when in Canada. Trying one more set of batteries today it came alive ready for action. Now I feel dumb. On the other hand, this little episode gave me the opportunity to shoot film, and to use my own cameras that I’ve lugged around for about 6,000 miles. An oldtimer would probably snicker to hear this, but the sound of the shutter slapping, instantly followed by the auto film winder makes me feel like a real diehard photographer. I can feel the camera reacting in more than one way to my instructions, and that connects me physically with the process. Once again, digital is inevitable, but I’m not entirely happy about it.

I hope you are all well, that you are warm, and surrounded by the people that you love.

Personal Meandering Thoughts

There are three distinct things going on here.

I'm surrounded by novelty. The culture is new, the landscape is new, faces, transportation, everything. It's all new to me, and it takes effort to get past my own expectations and assumptions to get and share an accurate sense of what is real. As I mentioned in a previous post, I recognise that that's not really possible, but I'm set to do my best. It's great to have long-term missionaries to help guide and shape the process.

Then there's the job. I'm here to collect materials to support the EFCCM and its missionaries. That is central, and I'm putting great pressure on myself to achieve the best results possible from this brief trip. But I'm actively avoiding being seen as the guy with the camera permanently attached to his face. However, the reality is that when a moment's over, there's no way to recapture it -- I just hope I can collect enough moments. I'm here as an ambassador for the Home Office, to establish my own relationships with our missionaries, and to give our Canadian congregations a good impression of what's going on. That's a lot to keep track of!

Finally, and this was unexpected, I'm processing my own personal missions experience. Nothing here is similar to my experience in Zimbabwe, but I'm reaching into my own past to try and come to terms with the feelings and memories of my past. This is something that is going to have ramifications for a long time, I can feel it. One missionary recognised that right away, and advised me to not to deny the process, but embrace it, and its whole gamut of accompanying emotions. I know it's good advice -- it'll be interesting to how it all plays out when I return.

Missionary POV: Quick Summary of Last Few Days

Easter was a fantastic experience! We started with a sunrise service, actually a little after sunrise, but we started under a sky that was overcast and damp. The worship portion was led by about six worship leaders including several singers and guitars, a violin and a flute. As the pastor delivered the Easter message the sun broke through, and it felt like God was revealing a small microcosm of the new resurrection to us, offering warmth to our shivering group. Someone told me it's the third year in a row that the weather has followed a similar pattern.

I've gotten a great sense of the work that our people are engaged in, from a larger-than-expected meeting in a home, to one-on-one family connections being built with local families. I hope that what I'm seeing and getting on camera imparts at least a sense of the awe that I feel. It's amazing to see God at work in a culture and language that otherwise has few similarities to my own. I think I'm getting the rhythm of this assignment, but I often find myself participating in what's going on around me rather than impertially observing it with the camera running -- it's a delicate balance. I'm curious to see how editing and compiling go when I get back, and look over the footage that I have.

Ukraine is a nation of contrasts. The modern and the ancient exist side by side. Younger women dress in the high fashion of European society, and older women dress in the long coats and "headkerchiefs" that reflect a deep tradition. New cars share cobblestone roads with smoky old Ladas. Same with old scooters and brand-new sportbikes. It's interesting to see all the places where culture is clashing. The latest electronics, fashion accessories, and even hardware parts are sold from kiosks in a market that is easy to imagine existing in similar form in antiquity. Crumbling concrete houses often have satellite dishes, and its occupants are likely to have at least one cellphone. Disposable income is a very new concept here, and it's really interesting to see how it's being used.

Missionary POV: I made it!

Quite frankly, when I rounded the corner at the Dnepro airport and saw my two bags waiting for me, I was actually surprised. They had to make the same flights (all four of them) in the same short turnaround that I did (sometimes just barely an hour). So everything’s here, all safe and sound. And now it’s time for me to say something I knew I was going to say right from the outset: “It’s nothing like I was expecting. I don’t know what I was expecting, but this is different.”

Dnepro first impressions? I’m glad I’m not driving! There are no lane markings, and so drivers make up their own, weaving in at out of the flow of traffic entirely unpredictably. Slowing down, turning, stopping, taking off right in front of you all happens without any kind of indication of intent. Cars don’t have to run to real well, but they’d better have good brakes! Helmet laws (like seatbelt laws) aren’t enforced; yesterday I saw three riders on a scooter, their hair blowing in the wind. I’ve always wanted the experience of riding without a helmet, but I have to say, I’m not tempted to try that here – not in the least!

The communist era has left a strong but fading mark on the place. For example central heating was popular here, and by that I mean large city blocks heated by the same source. Large ducts continue to join big buildings, crossing the roads like bridges. It reminds me of Brazil, and in retrospect that connection is probably intentional on Gilliam’s part. That's certainly on my "to get pictures of" list, so it may show up here soon!

Dnepro is obviously a burgeoning place. There are signs of growth and progress everywhere, with new modern buildings and lights. It makes for an odd pastiche. There is classic architecture, functional-but-crumbling concrete buildings, and then there are new, glitzy shopping centres and car dealerships. Very little exists to bridge the gap, like time stood still for a few decades, and I guess in a way, it did, and now it's rushing to catch up.

I have a much better idea now of how this trip is going to work out, and we have a tentative schedule in place. I’ve met several of the missionaries already, and they’re all great! There’s a lot of camaraderie here, with ribbing and in jokes flying fast and thick. As long as I can keep my gear working, and stay alert (a good night’s sleep -- on Ukraine time no less -- has helped I’m sure), then I should be able to get everything I need. I have a mental checklist developing of all the shots I want to get too – even after being here just over 12 hours, I can see things that will be important to the projects I’m working on. I have no, well few, problems trusting the Lord, but trusting myself can be challenging.

Missionary POV: Pre-departure Highlight #2

I mentioned flights in my last post, and how we'd promptly lost all the credit card points the office was chipping in. And then I mentioned that there was a snag between the airport and the airline. Well it turns out that that snag saved the day! The flight booked on points hadn't been cancelled when I got a call at the office outlining the disconnect between the airline and the airport, and what the airline was prepared to do about it. There were options of changing to a different day (if only I could have had that option two weeks ago!), getting a connecting flight on the airline's dime, or...a full refund!

Welcome back all 65,000 points and the nearly $300 in taxes we had to pay! What a great phone call to get the day before I leave! I felt so bad about all those points -- a whole return trip to Europe no less -- just going to absolute waste! Phew!

Now I just gotta wrap a whole bunch of loose ends, and I'll be ready. That'll probably mean no sleep at all tonight, but what else is new?! Man, with all the screens I stare at, if people really did turn square-eyed, my whole head would be a very pointy cube.

Missionary POV: Shenanigans Ensue...

Welcome to my first real update for the Missionary Point of View trip to Ukraine. There's a lot to share, and I haven't even left yet!

I can't possibly begin to explain. Describe maybe, but explain? Here's the scenario. I'm trying to get to Dnepropetrovsk (Dnepro) in Ukraine, and I have had my flight booked at least three different ways. First we started on credit card points, but using points offers no flexibility. You book wrong, you're toast! And it turned out that the booking was going to get me in the early morning of the day after I absolutely needed to be there. So that wasn't going to work.

We proceeded to reserve a ticket with a well-known airline beginning with the letter 'L', and they're going through some sort of kaffufle with the Dnepro airport that might/should be resolved in the interim between when I reserved the ticket and when I was scheduled to leave. They wouldn't let us finalise the ticket until they knew whether the kaffufle was resolved, because they didn't want to be on the hook for getting me to Dnepro. Was a resolution reached? No. So I'd have to be re-routed to Kiev, and then find my own way down to Dnepro. The price started off reasonable, but the process wasn't. And then with the connection flights required, and the overnights incurred, it ended up being more expensive than option 3.

We'd originally asked about flying with another, better airline, but it turned out that it was going to be substiantailly more expensive (I'm talking more than double). But with everything else going on, and with a huge reduction in ticket price from initial inquiries (my guess is that they just want to sell-out this flight), the balance actually tipped the other way! So now I'm getting there when I need to, while leaving here a day later, and on my way back I get an overnight in Vienna. Vienna? For a whole night? It's enough to make my head spin. If everything's still working at that point, and I can find some toothpicks to prop my eyelids open, I hope Austrian film is cheap!

Most unique detail so far: I'm flying at least one leg of this trip in a Fokker. If that turns out to be a red triplane, you can definitely expect to see pictures here! :-)

If you are the praying kind, please pray for my health and safety, for the reliability of my gear, that it all stays on my person (it's not all mine), and most importantly that I can establish a rapport with the missionaries I'm there to support. There is a lot to compress into a week-and-a-half, and I'm feeling a ton of pressure to soak it all in, to capture it, and later share it, in a way that is meaningful.

Photojournalism/Ministry/Travelogue

I have found another tension in missions work. As I prepare to launch myself at Ukraine (an aside: there is no 'the' anymore), I'm trying to plan my approach, and I'm finding it difficult. I feel like I'm not informed with enough of the right metaphors to fully understand how to handle this assignment. I can look the part with my three camera bodies, and wide range of lenses, my camcorders, and my laptop to scribble notes on. I know my equipment well enough. I can be fully engaged, curious and alert. But...how do I put it all together?

How does one take pictures, assemble footage, and generally capture the essence of a place without falling into one of the three confining categories: decadently opportunistic (the news), superficially self-serving (marketing ministry), or slickly commercial (any vacation magazine)? How do I convey the reality of ministry in a place that is bound to be reserved and conservative, among people I am not the least bit familiar with? And how do I trust myself to find and share the truth in a place where I'm a perfect stranger? I have no idea, beyond that I have to start somewhere.

In a way I'd like this type of effort to become my whole life, or conversely I'd like to pass it off to someone like that. Juggling all the responsibility is keeping me alive, vital and aware, but I feel like I'm stretching myself too thin to be able to make the impact I urge myself to. So is my bar too high, or do I just need to push harder to achieve my lofty aims? Can I expect myself to sustain that effort for the rest of my life? Is that even a worthy goal, or is that just me co-opting the 'moreness' of North America for my faith?

That's what I'm thinking about. I'll have more on the subject (I hope) when I return.

Selling Faith?

So much of ministry is in its marketing. I do a lot of thinking about that -- some talking too -- and I still don't know exactly how I feel about it. It's my job, for crying out loud. And I love it. But it's baffling.

I was talking to a retired businessman some time ago who's done quite well for himself. I casually made a sarcastic greed-is-good comment. Big mistake. He did the vocal equivalent of snapping my neck over it. His emphatic point was that capitalism is not based on greed, it's based on the freedom of mankind. Something he said formed the impression in me: greed is as much a corruption of capitalism as dictatorship is of communism. Each has a unique susceptibility to vice, but is not in itself the cause of it.

But, be all that as it may, mixing faith with money doesn't quite seem to jibe. It just sounds bad. It sounds calloused, or at the very least contaminated by the very secular ideology that we're supposed to be steering clear of. The flickery image of countless fallen, crocodile-tear-shedding televangelists appears in my mind's eye. But again, that's corruption. Is it actually possible that market forces could have something to offer the church?

All my life I've been told from countless pulpits that having money is not, in itself, a bad thing. Y'know, we're told "it's what you do with it that counts". But if you give it all away, spend it or lose it, you don't have it. That's the paradox. So which is it people?

Do you believe that the only reason that we've been blessed in rich North America is to bless others? I'm on the side of the fence that says that's a fallacy. We bless others because we should. That's the policy, and it's not supposed to be conditioned by ability, or lack thereof. And it's not being true to our own culture which was formed so long ago on strong values. Values that have enabled us to achieve so much peace, and prosperity. If we forsake that culture, what do we have to offer any other, practically speaking?

If we all threw up our hands and proclaimed "That's it! I'm giving everything I own to an African village!" I foresee at least two major issues. Firstly, who's going to continue to reach out to Canada/North America on its own terms? In its own language? Need I mention it's expensive to speak that language? And secondly, where did the idea come from that money is going to solve any problem in Africa (or wherever)? There are definite ways that money can help, but it generally causes more distress than it appeases. I'm gradually coining a phrase along the lines of "There's no sum of money so small, or so large, it can't cause pain".

And another that goes "There's no such thing as a perfect decision". I'm starting to accept the implications of that one. It's messy, but that's OK. I'll keep trying to do my best. And I'll keep doing everything I can to point people to the Truth.

A Bridge or a Wall

When I was a kid watching the news, I used to think that no matter how bad the story, just knowing it was on TV was calming. I used to think "well at least those guys getting the story can help". As my understanding grew, my comforting thought started to change to "well at least those guys getting the story can survive". Now I wonder at the stories that can't be told because conditions are just too dangerously volatile. There are also many stories that aren't being told simply because, for whatever reason, there's no-one interested in them. Every day.

Recently I talked to a friend of mine at our photo club. We both want to start pushing the boundaries of what photography can mean. The club has been great at teaching us the essentials of photography, but somehow there's something lacking in just using the camera to capture pretty flowers and smiling children (I stagger under the immensity of the brush I'm swinging, but you get my drift).

We're going to start encouraging each other to develop a solid story, or come up with a humanitarian issue to address. If it turns out that we find a common goal, we may even team up. But at this point it's encouraging that I've found someone to push me to use the camera as a tool to passionately engage rather than just impartially observe.

Cultural Skin Punch

How did I become so important that I deserved a capital?

Metaphor for Grace?

One of the tensions in my life is between not wanting to want, and wanting. You may have picked that up if you've been reading. But recently I saw an object that simply bypassed the entire internal debate.

It's a Selmer tenor saxophone. It's called a Reference 54 because it's modelled after what is probably the most famous saxophone model ever produced, the Mark VI, which began life in 1954. (Examples of the ~20-year run of the Mark VI are so sought after that several have been purchased as investments by Japanese bussinessmen, much to the dismay of sax players.) The sound is supposed to be as rich, dark and centred as the original. This particular one is given an antique finish, which means brushed brass covered with a dull laquer. It is so beautiful that it nearly made me cry.

I can't want it because there's nothing I've done to deserve it. If it was offered to me, I would certainly accept it. But honestly, to me it's enough that there's such a beautiful thing, with such a beautiful purpose out there. That's all.

Down the Middle, and Round the Corner (self-assigned writing excercise)

Dayton cut a line right down the middle. He carried some of the inflection of a self-described auteur, but not exaggerated enough to be called on it. His clothes perfectly split the difference between the jeans and t-shirt regular, and someone who's trying too hard not to be. His hair wasn't combed carefully, but the short cut kept it controlled. And the way he talked to Nadia in her emplyee's uniform teetered on both sides of smug and bashful.

The cognitive dissonance between the book I was perusing, and the lack of self-awareness this pair exhibited was almost audible in its intensity. Sally Mann is a photographer shrouded in controversy over the implicitly sexual images that she has taken of children. I was introduced to her in my last year of university, and the work is on the knife-edge between insightfully-observed, masterfully-recorded reality and all-out exploitation. The book I was reading at the time does not contain her most contentious images, but still shows the adult awareness of preteens. I wonder if we forget by 17 what we were afraid to learn at 12.

He asked her about various books, and carefully looked through the ones she offered him. She talked with conviction about the books she loved throughout the art, illustation and photography section, oddly shuffled on the shelves.

"I just sold my absolute favourite book," she volunteered.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, it was a book of fashion concepts. You know, the pictures before the clothes are actually made? It was all hand-drawn. The girl I sold it to really liked it too, and she was so cute about it, so I'm okay with it."

"I should do some fashion photography."

They happened on a book on polaroids wrapped in plastic to resemble an old polaroid film pack, and he launched into a story about a polaroid camera he found at a thrift store.

"It's coloured like a rainbow, gotta be from the 70s," he told her, verging on enthusiastic. "And it works. It only cost seven dollars. I'm gonna get some film and try it out. Maybe I should buy this book to get some ideas."

He looked at the price tag and gingerly put it back.

"That's a Taschen. I love Taschen!" That she wasn't going to make the sale had no effect on her, one way or the other. "They do these really crazy things with their packaging. Here's a book on wood, and it comes in a wood box. Who does that?"

They fumbled together over the origin and history of the publisher, and came back around to photography.

"...It's all about the rule of thirds," he was saying. "It's an important rule, and it's everywhere."

"Yeah," she joined in. "There are, like, seven rules in photography that you have to keep."

"Or that are there for breaking." I gave my comment a slightly sardonic tone, and just like that I suddenly broke the delicate observer-participant boundary.

She paused, in that way one does when a stranger unexpectedly joins a conversation (I should know), and then flashed me a brilliant smile, that became a brief, surprised laugh. It was a laugh that came from a place where she was surrounded with books she loved, happily diverted with a friend, and pleased with the little freedom I had taken. "Touche."

Dayton looked past her to me, a little uneasy. "Do you have that book with all the digital manipulation in it?" he asked her.

Her attention readily returned to him. "Do you have a title?"

"I think I remember part of it."

"Do you want to look it up?"

He nodded slowly, but she was already leading him to the desk. Presently they rounded a corner and went out of sight, without a backward glance. From either of them.

The Ink Never Dries

I think I was born for this electronic era. A friend of mine says that projects are never finished, merely abandoned. I just can't seem to abandon anything. So a world where everything stays fluid and changeable sounds perfect.

A blinking cursor on a blank page has become the classic icon of the frustrated writer. But it's the blinking activity light on a printer, or the progressing gas guage of a rendering video that haunts me. Maybe there's a mistake somewhere. I know I could've tightened up the wording, and I certainly could've been more culturally sensitive. Am I just 'paying the bills' with this piece, or is there something special in it that will resonate with someone? And did I work hard enough to make it happen?

I like that I can work with so many media, but the inherent conflicts between them are giving me schizophrenia. I have to juggle so many tasks at once, while delicately balancing my time and energy. I could be a circus freak. My mother has lamented that her kids didn't come with a manual. Now that I'm old enough to appreciate it, I guess I kinda lament that too.

Inspired and Frustrated

That's it. I'm writing. I've come to the place beyond where I question what life isn't, to where I'm (mostly) satisfied in what life is. I have ideas too, you know. They may not be the best ideas, but they're sure better than some. No ideas are better than some stuff out there.

The goal of my blog is to organise my thoughts for myself. It's a journal. It's to say the things I want to say, in the ways I can't in my day job. And design things in ways I can't for my day job. But I'm going to be a little bit careful, 'cause I really like my day job.

I don't care who reads this, or whether or not history is looking over my shoulder. I don't care if I come off as intelligent or daft. I don't care if I sound callous, or like a bleeding-heart namby-pamby. I'm not selling anything, especially myself. That's it. I'm writing.