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LIFE IN FULL-SPECTRUM COLOR
What would it mean to live life in full-spectrum color,
bringing all of our senses to this moment?
As a musician, artist, contemplative, theologian, and cultural explorer, I find a strange joy in grappling with the larger questions about life and existence. To me, this is the heart and soul of communications — exploring the dynamics of what it means to be human, how we connect and relate with one another, how we cultivate love and growth, and how we perceive ourselves in relation to the wider universe or the Divine. My reflections here are an attempt to capture moments of life — through a canvas of words, songs, images, and reflections — that I hope bring a deeper meaning into focus.
Wondering at Life through the Macro Lens
This holiday season, I treated myself to a set of camera lenses for my iPhone. I love photography, though I’m only an amateur photographer at best. But enjoy the act of capturing a moment in time or a beautiful scene with a thoughtfully composed snapshot. And I love marveling at the ways that others capture the beauty of the world through their photo offerings. While some will bemoan the negative effects of social media on today’s society, I confess that I am, more often than not, inspired by the thoughts and images that float through my Instagram feed.
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Saints and Souls and the Weight of the World
“We are all in the process of dying,” my friend said, dropping this tidbit of reality on me with the same air of casualness that one might comment on the weather. I was probably in my mid to late twenties when he and I had one of our many conversational debates about something or other, and he’d often raise this point to me. Death was not in the forefront of my mind much then. In fact, as I recall my twenties, I was probably more focused on paying my rent, finishing graduate school, and living out my purpose in life than I was in facing the fact that I was dying.
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From Sea to Shining Sea: My Journey to California
I’m having an anniversary this month. It’s a celebration! Twenty years this month, perhaps even to this very day as I write this, I set up my new home in California and I haven’t looked back. I remember quite vividly making the trek into Oakland, California in a caravan with my dad. He drove the Uhaul truck with my belongings. And, I followed behind in my blue-grey Toyota Cressida packed with even more of my belongings…because, I have never mastered the art of traveling lite.
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East Coast, West Coast, and All the Life Lived in Between
There are certain qualities that define the peak of summer in Maryland. And I revel in them all. Everything is lush and green and alive, and the air often thick with heat and humidity and the smell of fescue and ryegrass. Mornings are filled with the songs of all variety of woodland birds, from the red-breasted robin to the Carolina wren, the caw of black crows and the triplet coo, coo, coo of morning doves. Birds warble, low light pierces through trees, large insects zip by — horse flies, bumble bees, big black cicadas that sometimes smack into me as I stroll down the driveway to fetch the morning paper.
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