The impossibility of cliché

There is no room within us to be stale. “Stale” is such an excellent descriptor. It reminds me of those croissant-looking pastries that you might see in any local bakery. From the outside, they look incredible—dusted with sugar and spice and everything nice (a.k.a. cinnamon). The second you bite into them, however, you experience a mouthful of air—and have never been so disappointed. First of all, you’re sad that you just paid money for shell of a pastry…and secondly, you’re hungry!

May we forget that the word “cliché” ever existed. Things only become cliché when they become stale, and we all know how much fun that is. My really old friend G.K. Chesterton wrote the following in his chapter “The Ethics of Elfland,” from Orthodoxy (read it slowly and soak it in because it is glorious): “A child kicks his legs rhythmically through excess, not absence, of life. Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, “Do it again”; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun; and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we. The repetition in Nature may not be a mere recurrence; it may be a theatrical ENCORE.”

What a perspective! Read it again, it’s so good! As I mentioned before, I read a book that my friend Pat wrote. Pat’s obsessed with sunflowers, so naturally, one whole chapter in the book is essentially devoted to them. Well one day, I woke up and couldn’t help but think of _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ (you guessed it, SUNFLOWERS!). It really is an exciting flower to look at. It stares at the sun all day—all bent and contorted—just to bask in the glory that is its life-giving purpose for existence. It doesn’t just peek its head out the window in the morning and then go back to sleep. It is irrevocably and irreversibly attracted to the thing that makes it green and yellow and alive. Indeed…an eternal appetite for infancy.

-griff

p.s. G.K. was known for being a very, very large man. He must have never ordered the hollow pastries. I was going to say he was “obese,” but it’s not really very funny to make fun of obese people.

Sunday February 17, 2008

Today was my most boring day yet, so get ready for an exciting post! It was a day of rest after a weekend (I have all Fridays off!) of rest, and therefore, entirely unnecessary.

Here’s what my day looked like:
10:30- Wake up.
11:15- stretch (I want to be able to touch my toes after this semester. No, I can’t right now.)
12:00- take a shower
1:00 PM breakfast
1:30-2:30 read, write
2:30-3:30 watch Colbert Report/Daily Show/South Park online.
3:30-5 read a book my friend wrote (it’s a legit book-165 pages!)
5-5:30 more Daily Show (I have to catch up on my political humor…)

So now I’m in the park by my apartment. It’s not a park day at all- about 45 degrees, cloudy, and windy. I brought “Living Buddha, Living Christ” and my iPod so I could be entertained for an hour or so. It’s too cold to read, so I’ll just listen to all 10 of my (not) illegally downloaded As Tall as Lions songs. Watching the world go by with music on is kind of like entering into an independent movie—try it sometime. Ten feet behind me is the Templo de Debod, a two thousand year old Egyptian temple (in Spain…kind of strange, right?). Directly in front of me is a fountain/pond that reflects the city below and the grey sky above with utter clarity. I want to enjoy this without having to look for meaning—the leaf tornados that grab my attention (just once in my life I want to take a picture of one. How lucky would that be?), the new mom playing airplane with her all-too-amused infant, the middle-aged guy playing fetch with his rat of a dog (sorry, but it was one of those dogs). I wonder if maybe the dog thinks he is playing fetch with the guy? The wind blowing ripples across the water like I do with my hot tea every morning, the comforting sound of the fountain, the lovers, the goths and their dreadlocks, the little kid amusedly throwing sticks into the 2” deep pond, the list goes on...
I hate offering conclusions since I’m only 20 and still very naïve. But all I can think of is how happy I am to know that in fifteen minutes, I’ll enter the warmth of an apartment, run my cold, aching hands under some warm water, and eat some dinner. How fortunate I am.

-griff

Thoughts from 2 seconds ago, now 3, now 4. etc.

The future is a tricky thing indeed. It brings hope to the hopeless when it confuses fatal ideology. Yet it can send the hopeful to their knees in confused desperation. It completely disassembles all assumptions and predications. But this concerns me not at all. What I fear is that the future might be a precise fulfillment of the present. This type of future requires present action. A future that requires us to “be the change.” And sometimes that feels like an enormous responsibility. And then there is God’s grace. And this keeps me going.

-jorbe

a change in direction

so from the get-go, we (yes, we) have been trying to set up a different type of blog. A blog is a very introverted (sometimes dangerously, no?) type of thing. In light of this, I don't want it to be only MY little stories from across the ocean. Maybe something a little closer to home would be nice? The idea of farfarawayathome is comforting to me, since I know that though I am across an ocean, I am very much at home here on this little planet. At the same time, I'd love to hear stories from my true home...the United States. Every time I eat an oreo or drink a dr. pepper, it reminds me of that far away place where so many wonderful people live...Texas (and Ohio represent!)
So from now on, my good friends Jordan Bellamy and Ben Carroll are going to hop on this little deal. If YOU have anything you'd like us to post, please send it to me: Griffin_Kelp@baylor.edu.
Gracias!
Griff.

"give us this day, our daily rabbit."

So i just got back from the soup kitchen again. If this is your only way of hearing about my trip so far, you'd probably think i live there. i don't. i've been there twice in a month and it's not part of my daily routine. i do enjoy going though. it's refreshing to be around such happy (and ornery) old people serving the hungry and the poor. i say ornery only because once i got there today (alone this time, without amigos), an elderly man told me to stack 3 boxes of chips "vente aquí" (get over here) "colocarlos bien" (stack them well). yeah well that took about 3 seconds...thanks man.
I peeled garlic with a guy named Marcos. He's an 18 year old, pure-blooded madrileño (from madrid) in semenario (catholic seminary?). It was hilarious to hear his view of the United States. Marcos: "Where are you from?" Me: "Texas." Marcos: "When you think of Spain, you think of bullfights and Toledo, right?" Me: "Si." Marcos: "Well when people here think of the United States, they think of cowboys. Are you a cowboy?" Me: "No."
I guess I was wearing plaid...

Another thing that struck me today was the manifestation of Jesus' sample prayer ("our father"...) We all prayed it together (they also prayed something to mother mary. i hung out in the background for that one). "Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread..." A hundred people can say that every day, Jesus gives them a meal (i'm not pointing at myself here. plus, i shaved before the trip so the so-called "Jesus-beard" is no longer seen with that plaid shirt.) If ever another person becomes homeless (hopefully not!), they will know who to get food from.

I walked home from the soup kitchen (about 35 minutes) through some of the more busy and beautiful streets of Madrid. Google 'em if you want: Calle del Sol, Puerta del Sol, Calle Gran Vía, Plaza de España). There, your ears will never be lacking the sound of street musicians playing odd instruments--ones i can't even name--, political lobbyists yelling messages to the masses, and homeless people begging for change. The streets have a distinctly european feel to them. Maybe it's the fact that a mini cooper could beat the h-e-double-hockey-sticks out of any other of the cars on the road. Maybe it's the rounded architecture of the buildings. I don't know. But i do know i'm enjoying it and if you ever get the chance, you should come check things out!

And finally, to end this lengthy post, I'd like to admit something. I ate rabbit for dinner tonight. Yeah, that's right. The cute little furry animal that frolics around places in search of tasty carrots. Maybe my vision's better now? Honestly though, it was brutal. I never know what I'm eating here. My señora (host-family) always tells me what I'm eating AS I'm eating it. Trout with ham was pretty obvious, as I was handed a plate with a fish on it (yum!).
But this rabbit thing was a new one. I was 1/2 way through and not particularly enjoying it, whatever it was. She walked by and said, "Es conejo con salsa." My heart sank. I was like Holyfield half-way through the Tyson fight. Stunned. I think my vision got a little blurry. Sorry for all the boxing references, but I felt like Rocky (when he reaches the top of the hill to "Eye of the Tiger") after training when I finished it. If you come to Europe, I don't recommend Spain's local dish (rabbit) any more than i recommend trout with ham or peanut butter with bouncy balls. I guess rabbit's very lean and almost entirely fat free though, so on the other hand...bon apetit y buen provecho.

Peace!
Griff.