Mollo's Blog

2012-01-21T10:13:00.002-05:00

Alright. I'm back. I think. I've been thinking of starting my blog back up. Life seems to have gotten back into a manageable groove. This happened when O was born too…. it seems like many of the things in our lives (writing, yoga, piano, etc) took a two year hiatus. When G was born three years ago, it appears that cycle began again.

I've been contemplating writing again, using it as a springboard to develop ideas for sermons, sharing stories about the kids with family and friends, and as the occasional documented rant on what Jim Mollo thinks.

So, what do you think? Will anyone read this… or does that question not really matter?

2009-03-21T21:37:00.004-04:00

No such thing as coincidences...

We spent the afternoon in Easton, Pennsylvania today. We heard about the Crayola factory and thought it would be worth a visit for O. It was a mad house. There were way too many kids and not enough room to maneuver Gigi's stroller. We found a room to decorate T-shirts (additional cost of course) that wasn't crowded, so we spent an hour or so making this masterpiece.

Kim and I took turns coloring with O. During Kim's turn, I posted a few inquiries to friends on Facebook asking them if they knew of any good places to visit in Easton.

We hit one to two other exhibits then hightailed it outta there. We went for a walk looking for somewhere to catch an early dinner. We looked in a couple Antique stores and headed down a street when we heard someone shout, "Mollo."

Suzy and Danny Moyer had seen us walk by a store they were visiting. Suzy was one of the people I had written to on my blackberry in the Crayola Factory. She didn't get the note. I haven't seen them in five years and we ran into them walking down a street. We went to a couple places where Danny exhibits his work (the pieces were amazing) and then went to a pub for a burger, nachos and some beers. It was fantastic seeing them. We're planning on getting together soon.

There is no such thing as coincidences.

2009-03-15T11:23:00.008-04:00

Disney Photos - March 2009
O with Goofy.

O and Donald. Duck was on the menu at The California Grill - that took some explaining.

This was really cute - O and Minnie were having a spinning contest to see who's dress could spin the most.

O with Pluto (not Uranus).

O & The Big Rat.

Waiting to get into Chef Mickey's.

O curtsying with Sleeping Beauty in Downtown Disney.

Snow White and O in Downtown Disney.

Dinner at the California Grill... O taking control of the pictures.

O & Goofy at Chef Mickey's.

Minnie was digging O's ears.

Breakfast at Chef Mickey's.

O & Donald at Chef Mickey's breakfast.

The family.

O at Story Time with Belle.

O posing.

O had control of the camera - this was Tiger - not to be confused with Tigger.

Pluto and O at Chef Mickey's.

Pluto sneaking up on Gigi.

Exhausted from her 7th ride on Peter Pan's Flight.

O with Flick in Animal Kingdom.

Another shot of O with Belle after Story Time.

Horse carriage ride down Main Street in the Magic Kingdom.

This is O telling Snow White that she "she shouldn't take apples from strangers."

We saved this grasshopper from passing feet.

O with her hosts.

O & Sleeping Beauty.

O & Belle.

The end of our vacation. On the way out of the park on the last day we watched the parade. The family posing on Main Street.

The Fairy Godmother - she seemed a little miserable.

O with Mary Poppins - this woman was everywhere.

2009-03-07T14:39:00.007-05:00

Weeeeee're heeeerrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

It's a bit more crowded than I thought. This is supposed to be their 'slow' time. I think people may be taking advantage of their 'buy four nights get three free sale'. You'd never think the economy was in the crapper given the way people are spending money around here.

We arrived yesterday (Friday). The plane took off on time and without incident. The landing was a different story. As we were coming in... we were about 50-100 feet from the ground when the plane suddenly pulled up and banked off to the side. It was more than a little disconcerting. We circled a bit then landed again without a problem. There wasn't an announcement or any word of what happened. Everyone looked a little freaked out.

Ok, I'm on vacation... I'm not reordering these photos... but here they are.

This was today (Sat morning). We had a Mary Poppins breakfast. Pooh was there (actually Pooh was there as well as in Gigi's diaper).

Olivia was showing Pooh her 'Pooh Pin'.

We wanted to know if Mary Poppins would be available as a Nanny when Kim goes back to work in a couple of months.

That is a Mary Poppins doll in O's hand. She LOVESSSS MP and the movie! We have to get to see the show on Broadway at some point.

This was perhaps the cutest moment. She just ran to Tigger and they sort of cuddled on the floor for a minute or so.

The Mat Hatter didn't really seem to be too into the whole gig. Plus, what's with the nose? Is he like a booze bag or something?

This is O being crazy in "It's a Small World".

The wait in Peter Pan was 40 minutes. Gigi could make it that long.

O with Goofy as you enter Main St in Magic Kingdom.

O n' Daisy.
This is for Uncle Ted. We miss you and are thinking about you in Michigan. Hope all is ok.

This one is for Laga! Thanks for all of the songs. Miss you guys!

2009-02-24T21:13:00.002-05:00

St. Paul's Shrove Tuesday Pancake Supper

Good conversation. Kim and Georgia are out of frame on the right.

The future matriarchs.

2009-02-22T21:33:00.007-05:00

More Photos (Thanks John!)

My brother-in-law sent me these photos. They're great. The files are enormous and took me forever to upload, but the quality is fantastic. He takes great photos.

Elizabeth let us all baptize Gigi.

Getting her ready.

Reverend Elizabeth and a very alert Georgia.

Georgia has some wonderful Godparents! Thanks Ted and Allison!

How gorgeous is she??? Even with the tongue out.

2009-02-22T17:33:00.001-05:00

The Big Moment

2009-02-22T16:21:00.002-05:00

Photos from the Baptism

All of us up front, that's Aunt Allison off to the right. Uncle Ted didn't make it in this round of photos. We have lots of people who are sending us more pictures. I'll post them as they come in.

The big moment.
Another group shot.
Two cakes from the cake lady. We went through the big cake... we have almost all of the 'back-up' cake in the fridge. It's delicious.

Mom & Dad C with Georgia.

The family.
Me and Dawn - a dear friend from High School.

If you have more photos send them to me. We didn't get very many on our own camera.

2009-02-22T15:58:00.004-05:00

Georgia's Baptism

February 22, 2009 10am
Mark 9: 2-9
Georgia Gail Mollo’s Baptism

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be always acceptable in your sight, our Lord and Redeemer. Amen.

“Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!”

It is good for us to be here. It is good, indeed. It was good for Peter and James and John to be up on that mountain seeking peace and quiet and reflection. And it is good for us to be here, at St. Paul’s. It is good for us to join together on Sundays in worship, prayer and reflection. It is good for us to join together on Wednesday evenings for Vespers, it is good to join together on Fat Tuesday for fellowship and pancakes. It is good to be here during the Christmas Bazaar and the Auction for fun and fundraising. It is good to be here for baptisms and yes, even funerals, to celebrate our personal community of saints.

Even if, at the time, Peter didn’t quite get what was going on, it was good for them to be on that mountain, in part, for the same reason it is good for us to be here today. It is food for the journey back down the mountain. It is preparation for the very hard work that needs to be done in the world. It is good to be here so that we are ready to love and to serve the needs of our neighbors.

This is one of the reasons why, as parents, St. Paul’s is so important to Kim and I. We started coming here 15 years ago because of what we needed. Now we come, in part for ourselves, in part for worship, but also to help prepare our children to come down from the mountain. This community has played an enormous role in Olivia’s life. Frankly, more than I had thought possible for someone only five years old. So it should be no surprise that it played such an important part in the life of Georgia, even before she was born. This past summer I outted our family from the secrecy of Kim’s pregnancy from this pulpit. This community was there for us when we struggled through decisions about which tests to have. As always, this community was there for us making meals, lending support and in prayer. Some of you even helped us with discussions on baby names.

Kim and I rarely argue. But man-o-man we could not agree on a name. I wanted an old Italian family name. Kim wanted something traditional, yet original. Luckily, we have a five year old who has a flair for the original and an unbridled ability to negotiate. Olivia named her sister. One morning at the breakfast table Olivia informed us that she knows what we should name her baby sister. “Georgia!” she proclaimed. If given the opportunity, I’m sure she could have helped negotiate the most recent economic stimulus package with less partisanship than our elected officials.

Baptism is intended to be a public act in the presence of a congregation. As the Rev. Dr. John Westerhoff said in his guide on Holy Baptism, “Theologically at baptism we give up our children for adoption into a new family, a family that accepts them and promises to support them along with their parents and godparents in their life in Christ.”

During the pregnancy, we began thinking about Georgia in light of our church community. We began thinking about her coming public baptism and what outward role the church would have in her life. Now, let’s be realistic, when I say what role would the church have in her life, I mean little c (church) not big C (Church). I mean, what role, would St. Paul’s and the people of this community play in her coming life?

During the pregnancy we lost a dear friend who was a member here at St. Paul’s. Gail MacNeil suffered from cancer as long as I knew her. And in all those years, I never once heard her complain about her pain or health. She joined the Vestry during the height of her illness. Think about that. Serving on Vestry is no small undertaking. She was in service to this community and to God in the last year of her life. She helped found Kalediescope of Hope, an organization that helped raise over a million dollars for ovarian cancer research. She chastised me, as only Gail could, with a look, when an inappropriate word slipped from my mouth and she helped us through some rather stressful times. Our daughter Georgia Gail shares her middle name in honor to her wonder and strong spirit.

As you know by now, I usually refer to Georgia as Gigi. Yes, I’m a guy who likes nicknames. But the name Gigi was not random. The love and service of Anne Bennett in this community are traits that I envy and respect. Yes, I stole Anne’s nickname. Her Grandchildren call Gigi. And occasionally, I call her Gigi. Names and nicknames may seem random, but in so calling our children by a particular name we are, in part, proclaiming the life we hope for our children. What role do you hope God and a community of fellowship play in your families futures?

I imagine Olivia and Georgia sitting in pews sixty or seventy years from now, their children visiting, grandchildren running around the pews much like the two great church matriarchs I’ve described. I see them thirty or forty years from now, sitting in pews like these, like us and the Pishkos and the Yates and Mary Foster with our kids sitting around us. I see them with Max and Ella and Catherine ten years from now, making their confirmations right here at St. Paul’s surrounded by a loving community of support, surrounded by the prayers of those in this sanctuary and those who have come before us. I know they will be surrounded by the prayers that have been pleaded and repeated and have become imbedded in these great wooded rafters.

I am reminded of a story I read in Marianne Micks’ Deep Waters. She was present at the campus of the University of British Columbia on an evening in 1984 when approximately 3,000 Christians gathered for an ecumenical vigil for peace and justice. The invited guest of honor was Bishop Desmond Tutu. There were people there from all over the world. Remember back to that time in history and it shouldn’t surprise you that the government of South Africa was not going to allow him to leave the country. However, at the last minute his government relented and granted him an exit visa. He walked in to the worship tent around midnight. He was escorted to the podium to thunderous applause. Micks recalls him saying, “When I look at the state of the world today, I say, ‘Thank God, I’m not God.’ But when I come into a body of Christians like this, I say, ‘Thank you, God, that you are God.’”

That is how I feel today. At times, I am completely overwhelmed with the state of our world. The economy creeping downward, joblessness creeping upward, plane crashes, wars, terrorist bombings, and evening news shows reporting increases in violence perpetrated on our brothers and sisters living around us. Yet, in the midst of that I look at out all of you and thank God. I thank God that you are here to help us raise our children. You are here to show them what their lives can be. I thank God that you are here to be models of service for them in our communities and with our neighbors. I thank God that you are here to help them down the mountain and to show them how important it is to love God and serve neighbor.

Do you remember the book, Fahrenheit 451? You probably read Ray Bradbury’s most famous book in highschool. It is a wonderful book. It is a social satire set in the, perhaps, near future, when ‘firemen’ burn books forbidden by the totalitarian ‘brave new world’ regime. The hero, according to Mr. Bradbury, is “a book burner who suddenly discovers that books are flesh and blood ideas and cry out silently when put to the torch.”

Toward the end of the book Montag, the reformed firefighter, is trying to make sense of his life. He meets up with a bunch of refugees living in the woods. The leader of the group, Granger, tells Montag the story of his Grandfather. “When I was a boy my grandfather died, and he was a sculptor. He was also a very kind man who had a lot of love to give the world, and he helped clean up the slum in our town; and he made toys for us and he did a million things in his lifetime; he was always busy with his hands. And when he died, I suddenly realized I wasn’t crying for him at all, but for all the things he did. I cried because he would never do them again, he could never carve another piece of wood or help us raise doves and pigeons in the back yard or play the violin the way he did, or tell us jokes the way he did… He shaped the world. He did things to the world. The world was bankrupted of ten million fine actions the night he passed on.”

Granger’s grandfather is Gale. He is Betty Williams. He is those of us dead and alive. He is Anne. He is Allison and Mary. He is Betty Stockly. He is Liz Hollar. He is Eleanor and Elizabeth and Barbara and Doris and Roxie and he is you and me. He is us dead and alive. His actions mattered in this world. Others around him were impacted by his life. Our actions matter in this world. And we have the power to choose how we will impact others. That is what we are called to do. That is what Christ would have us do as we come down from the mountain. Make a positive impact on those around you. It really is simple. Feed the hungry, give water to the thirsty, and give love to those in need. Be purposeful and meaningful in how you live and love.

Shortly, when we baptize Georgia, I hope you will join me in truly renewing your baptismal covenant. Join me in remembering Gail and all she did for us. Join me in envisioning what it is Georgia and you and I will do when we come down from the mountain this day.

Across space and time, Peter looks out from that mountain and speaks directly to us, “It is good for us to be here.” It is good indeed.

Let the congregation give a loud Amen.

2009-02-21T12:42:00.001-05:00

Tomorrow

Tomorrow is Georgia's baptism. Kim's sisters (and family) should be here shortly. Sermon is written. Pottery is ready at the door. Olivia is jumping out of her skin. Georgia could care less.

Keep her in your prayers.

2009-02-18T21:46:00.002-05:00

They're Out!

This plate and low bowl look like someone vomited in them.

Olivia and I made a few pieces together at home and I brought them in to glaze the following week. She loves them!

The cat (glazed in pussy willow) and the 'rickety dog' as O calls him (glazed in smoky brown)

This is all of the stuff O and I made.

The pitchers! The glaze came out nice and even, no pock marks or crawling. I prefer the handle form on the right, but I don't like the plum glaze on the handle on the right.

The colors are plum on the inside and white on the out. The white is actually over the plum on the overlap.

Representationally, it is supposed to look like blood on the inside. Yes, I know that's a little morbid, but think of it as the blood and water mixing in the life and death of Christ.

The one on the left has an interesting loop on the bottom of the handle. I like the way that looks. Thanks Carla!

Another shot.

And of course, I'm continuing to make handleless mugs. I tried something different on the one in the front (right). I left my fingerprints visible. I think it is interesting to be reminded of the hands of the potter when you're using a glass or mug that was made mindfully.

The pitchers and their friends.

The newly opened kiln.

2009-02-17T21:21:00.002-05:00

Another Great Video...

This one is a bit cuter... not so obnoxious. It's the kind of thing Olivia and I do when reading.

2009-02-17T17:29:00.003-05:00

One more day...

I keep thinking about the kiln. It is probably burning well over 2000 degrees now. When I arrive tomorrow evening, it will be cool enough to empty. Carla has a meeting tomorrow and won't be at class. It will be just me and Jane (who is fantastic by the way) and perhaps Carol.

I get to unload the kiln. Opening the kiln is like Christmas morning. You've spent weeks making what went into the kiln two days earlier, and you never know how it is going to come out. It's a art form that, at times, feels completely out of your control.

Unloading the kiln isn't too hard - just an act that requires full presence. I look at the unloading process in the following way: there are hours and hours of peoples focus and love in that hot oven. When you take each piece out carefully, you look at it, admire it and think about what went into each piece. You must be very careful... very, very careful. When you empty the top shelf, you must remove the shelf below it. I'd guess the shelves weigh about 20 pounds each. Don't bump them, drop them or knock them into anything on the shelf below... and breathe. Remember to breathe.

To make the anticipation all the more stressful, the pitchers I made for Georgia's baptism are on the BOTTOM of the kiln.

Keep your fingers crossed.

2009-02-15T16:00:00.002-05:00

A Couple Photos from Today...

2009-02-15T14:20:00.002-05:00

Prayers for Gigi

Next weekend, Feb 22nd to be precise, Georgia Gail is being baptized at the Episcopal Church of St. Paul's in Chatham, NJ.

We have a wonderful Priest and Pastor in Reverend Elizabeth. And luckily, she has great trust in me. She allows me into her pulpit when I ask. I preached at Olivia's baptism five years ago (to the day) and will be preaching again next weekend for Gigi's baptism. I'm looking forward to it - but am worried that my sermon is... well... a little too simple. For Olivia's baptism, I preached about what Baptism meant to me and how our faith worked out in that space. Next week's sermon has more to do with our life at St. Paul's and why that is so important to us. Actually, it about our daughter's lives at St. Paul's and why that is so important to them for us. I'm hoping that the simplicity of the sermon will be enough.

Our dear friends Paul and Larry are Olivia's Godfathers. Paul played piano at Olivia's baptism and will do so again at Gigi's. Larry made the bowl that was used to baptize Olivia. We plan on using that again (set inside the baptismal font), but I wanted something that Georgia could have as well. So I've been working on a pitcher to hold the water. The two forms are wonderful. The handles are a little gnarled, but very comfortable... and if I give some more thought to it - it's rather representational of the beauty and comfort mixed in with the giving up of one's life in baptism. My dear friend and pottery teacher, Carla, helped me every step of the way with the pitchers.

Georgia's Godparents are two wonderful friends of ours. I like to think that they, along with their two gorgeous daughters, are actually Gigi's Godfamily. We're lucky to have friends like them in our lives.

I'm looking forward to Sunday. We have invited 50 people or so to join us at the Church. I'm thrilled that Gigi will be surrounded by the love and concern of those there. Please keep her in your prayers for her big day.

2009-02-15T14:18:00.002-05:00

Where o' Where has Mollo Been?

We've been sick. Sick, sick, sick. There is a virus/flu running around the country and it doesn't appear to have been covered by this year's flu shot.

Olivia brought it home from school - and since she's like a little petri dish and loves to share - we all caught it. The worst part is that Kim and Georgia can't take anything for the congestion and fever.

We're on the mend. And I should be posting more soon.

2009-02-15T13:55:00.002-05:00

Need a New Dentist?

2009-01-01T13:59:00.001-05:00

Goodbye 2008!

JibJab – 2008 Year In Review @ Yahoo! Video

2008-12-30T18:44:00.000-05:00

Seriously?

2008-12-30T18:28:00.001-05:00

Darling Sisters

2008-12-26T22:57:00.002-05:00

Christmas 2008

Santa came for sure!

Grandma and O doing word searches. O loves her word search books!

She got gloves and boots to match too! Reminds me a little of Ralphie from A Christmas Story

Dida and Gigi.

O with her new magnifying glass. She's doing her best Sid the Science Kid!

How did Santa get the bike down the chimney?

2008-12-26T14:06:00.009-05:00

Fantasies and Taking One's Time: A Reflection on Pottery & Faith

Five years ago, Kim and I were losing our minds. We had six straight months of sleep deprived nights, the lack of proven parenting skills and frankly, very little sanity. In the midst of all that chaos, I was unloading my emotional baggage to someone I know and trust. After I had stopped talking, she looked at me and said, "So, what is your fantasy?" My response was to cock my head sideways like a confused cocker spaniel, "Huh?" I said. "When it all makes you crazy, what is it you dream of to escape the chaos?" she replied. With that explanation, I knew exactly what she meant. I blurted out, "I quit my job, take all of the money I can pull together and drive to Las Vegas in a convertible and join the World Poker Tour." There you have it. It became my personal fortress of solitude. I needed only to close my eyes, take a few deep breaths and in the midst of Olivia's screams, I could be playing poker.

Georgia is a much quieter baby. However, those moments are still there. Two days ago, on Christmas Eve, I was holding Gigi. She was crying. Actually, she was screaming. Olivia was at my side shaking Zingo, a game she received for her birthday a couple weeks ago. I was trying to get her to help me dress her for the five o'clock Christmas Eve service. Then the phone rang. My mother was asking me what time they should come over on Christmas day. I felt the sense of chaos creeping back. I realized in that moment what my new fantasy was.

I hung up the phone with my mother and closed my eyes. I took a couple of breaths and tried to hear past Gigi's cries and Olivia's calls to play Zingo. I had quit my job and was sitting in a pottery studio up in Provicetown. We lived on Commercial Street. I had a studio and gallery downstairs from an apartment with water views. I was alone throwing pots all day with a breeze blowing through the studio from the bay, right out the front door to the hustle of people walking down Commercial Street.

I opened my eyes and was back in the reality of caring for a two week old and a five year old. I was, for the time being, revitalized.

That fantasy also helped me realize how much I love pottery, how much I enjoy the process. Unfortunately, I only spend one evening a week at the studio. It isn't enough. There are those weeks when I feel the same about Church. Sometimes, Sunday mornings just aren't enough. Luckily, I have a key to the Church and can steal away to the sanctuary, even for 10 minutes of quiet reflection.

Pottery isn't quite that easy. While I could go for an additional evening, it would require several hours of commitment. Clean-up alone takes 20 minutes. This often results in rushing to get the most out of my two and a half hour studio time. The work should really dictate how quickly I progress with a piece. When I attempt to control the piece it usually results in disaster.

If you try to rush when making a plate and fail to compress the bottom (many, many times) it will likely result in a nasty crack after the bisque firing. If you trim a piece when it is to wet it will likely result in a gouged or warped finished product. If you try to rush the drying process and the piece dries to quickly or unevenly, it is prone to crack.

The drying process can be more stressful to clay than the kiln. I have written previously about my imagery of violence in the act of firing a piece of clay. While the drying process isn't violent, it can damage the more delicate aspects of your work. If not done properly, it can result in cracked edges and the separating of handles and added feet.

Long handles with multiple points of attachment are particularly vulnerable. If not covered properly, the clay at the two attachment points may dry at different rates. This may lead to breakage either at the joint or within the handle itself. One needs to ensure that the piece is adequately covered to minimize these risks. What you give up is time. There can be no rushing.

When we rush a piece we risk it cracking and we find ourselves having to start over at the beginning. I think our faith journeys have similar risks. If we rush through our time in prayer, community and thanksgiving, we risk arresting our spiritual development. Many of us stopped any spiritual growth when we were confirmed. As lay and ordained church leaders, we don't do a good job at keeping teenagers and 20-somethings engaged in a meaningful way in the church. Luckily, we tend to get them back when they have their own children in their late 20s and early 30s.

One needs to keep ones self engaged in reading texts that challenge us spiritually. And yes, we even need to make time for those adult education sessions. I know how precious time is. Trust me. However, we need these moments in community to help work out all that we've read. Remember, Jesus didn't show up to Thomas on a lonely road to disprove his doubt. He showed to Thomas in a locked room where all of the terrified disciples were hiding. I can't help but think Jesus did that on purpose. Thomas needed to be with his friends and peers to work out what he saw.

I read a recent post on a pottery blog that talked about how to slow the drying process on pottery. "For these vulnerable pieces, wrap the fragile part in a scrap of plastic to slow its drying rate to match that of the rest of the piece. Or apply wax resist to these areas for a similar result, if you don't mind the extra expense, production time and unwanted fumes during the bisque firing." One could say the same thing about our spiritual development. We only need change the nouns and verbs a bit. 'For these vulnerable pieces of our lives, wrap the fragile part in a community of faith to focus its development to match that of the rest of one's life. Or apply appropriate levels of education to these areas for a similar result, particularly if you don't mind the time spent in self-development and the challenging thoughts that will likely develop.'

All in good time.

Happy Christmas from The Mollos!

2008-12-24T08:50:00.001-05:00

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

2008-12-23T16:23:00.001-05:00

Crafts with Daddy

Daddy cuts the construction paper and O handles the glue stick!

2008-12-23T16:00:00.005-05:00

Australia!

Today, Olivia came home with the map in the picture above. She's apparently been learning about Australia.

For those of you who don't know, we have several dear cousins in Australia. Dusanka and Boris (my father-in-law) are first cousins. We all follow each others lives from a distance of thousands of miles. The internet has made all of that easier.

I imagine we'll be hearing all about Australia, its history, animals and major exports over dinner for the next few days. I think we'll get out a marker and draw Dusanka and Ante, and Rita and Ivo's (and their three darling daughters) homes on our newest map!

2008-12-23T08:03:00.002-05:00

One of my favorite Christmas songs

David Bowie and Bing Crosby - whoever would have thought these two men would share a stage. The scripted banter in the beginning is a bit much - but the singing is great.

2008-12-22T22:27:00.002-05:00

A video for all Moms or those of us who have one

The Mom Song from Northland Video on Vimeo.

This video is fantastic! By the way - thanks Mom.

2008-12-21T21:39:00.003-05:00

In the midst of all the chaos, pottery continues.

I got a few things out of the kiln this weekend. I helped Carla load the kiln on Wednesday. Actually, I didn't do much - but it was fun. Loading the kiln is kind of like playing tetris. You want to try and maximize the space and get as many pieces on each shelf as you can, without letting them touch. Then you delicately put the shelf atop the pillars and start a new layer of working things out.

As usual, I saw an analogy to one's spiritual growth in the process of preparing the kiln. Each layer seemed like how we work something out and try to get the pieces of our pottery and our lives and our spiritual growth to work together and fit as well as possible. And sometimes, sometimes, it just isn't possible. Sometimes you have one big piece that you've worked for weeks on - and nothing fits around it. That's ok. Those pieces are just as important as the others - and perhaps it just needs it's own space to develop.

I tried something new this time. I glazed the tray above in a thin white glaze. Yes, it is curled at the edges and somewhat purposefully warped. The tree is painted with blue slip. I'm not much of a painter, but I like the color and concept. I may use the slip for painted bands on pieces in the future. Not a big fan of the piece overall - it will likely wind up at next year's St. Paul's Christmas Bazaar table. It's where all the pieces go that aren't garbage bound, but that I just don't have room for around the house.

I love how this turned out. It is a paten for a chalice that I made a few months ago. The glaze is deep and rich. I love it.

This came out really nice as well. It is white on the outside with plum on the rim and inside. The plum bled through a little on the base and the white turned a lovely orange hue as the chemicals mixed. It's a pretty small piece, but very nice.

Carla makes lots of these. Hers are amazing. This is best one I've done. It makes for a good utensil holder in the kitchen.

This was my big experiment. It didn't come out at all as I had intended. They never really do. But it is wonderful. It is a matte black base glaze with a large bulb (like a babies nasal aspirator) full of shiny black. The shiny black alone looks like a shiny gray metal. It looks very industrial. I like what it did on this bowl. I anticipate doing some platters and additional bowls like this in the future.

This piece is a gift for some friends. Shhh - don't tell them. It came out great - just as I'd hoped. It is a white base glaze with VC Bronze over it. When you're lucky it produces these hints of purple and blue. I was lucky.

2008-12-21T21:25:00.004-05:00

Snow, Jesus, and Myrtle the Christmas Turtle

This is what we woke up to this morning. An inch or so or snow, then sleet and rain. This is on top of the four inches of VERY wet and heavy snow we received on Friday.

Even with the snow - we made it to Church for St. Paul's Annual Christmas Pagent. The animals (led by a penguin) made it down the aisle to worship Baby Jesus.

Of course... the Angels were there.

Olivia and Catherine. Olivia was Myrtle the Christmas Turtle. Catherine sat with us today. She was one of the best worshiping cows I've ever seen! She's fantastic (so is her Mom - Hi Mary!).

Elizabeth and Barbara were fawning over Gigi during coffee hour!

2008-12-15T22:05:00.002-05:00

Happy Birthday Olivia!

2008-12-15T21:56:00.002-05:00

O's Birthday Pictures!

Grandma and Gigi

The Sisters.

Oma and her girls.

Sarah, her smile and Gigi.

Anna and Gigi. (Of course you can hold her!)

Robbie and his newest cousin.

Cousin Sarah with Gigi.

2008-12-15T21:51:00.002-05:00

WHAT?!?!?!?!

Olivia has been asking for earmuffs to help drown out Gigi's cries. Aunt Karin bought her these for her birthday.

2008-12-14T09:53:00.003-05:00

Happy Christmas!

The tree may be up, but in our house, the Christmas Season doesn't fully begin until after the Birthday Party is officially over. Next year that will be plural - birthday parties - for both O and Gigi. I'm a little early with this picture, as the 'family' party begin in a few hours.

Hope you and your families have a Happy Christmas season.

2008-12-13T22:51:00.005-05:00

Jesus Hitchin' a Ride
alternate title: Tweety is my Co-Pilot

We're having some family over tomorrow to celebrate O's birthday. I've been running around cleaning the house for the last two days. I don't understand what it is about having a baby that makes the house such a mess - but it does.

When I was putting some things away in O's room I saw this. The Weeble on the horse towing the cart was mine as a kid. Olivia aparently was trying to work out how Jesus made it to so many towns in the Bible and figured he must have had a ride. I love how Tweety is riding shotgun.

For those of you wondering why we have these things: O has over 100 of these miscellaneous characters. She loved them when she was younger and still plays with them occasionally.

2008-12-13T21:59:00.002-05:00

How do you get hiccups in your sleep?

She went to bed without them.

2008-12-11T23:34:00.000-05:00

Happy Birthday Olivia!

We celebrated O's birthday with moderate fanfare. She had her "friends" (school) party in late November at McCools (the local ice cream shop in Madison). Her "family" party is on Sunday. Grandma stopped by after work on Thursday to have a cupcake with us. The doll on the table was Grandma and Pop-pop's present to O - an American Girl Doll. That is so going to be a grandparent thing in our house.

Us singing to the nervous birthday girl.
(I broke the video up into two segments so that it doesn't take forever to load.)

A candle quandary.

2008-12-10T13:54:00.000-05:00

A Wonderful Big Sister!

2008-12-08T20:28:00.003-05:00

Georgia's first bath

It dawns on me that this must be incredibly boring viewing for the rest of the world. Those of you who are watching this... I know you must love us. Few would willingly watch such slow moving cinematography.

So. Georgia got her first bath (at home) today. Last night was not particularly fun for Kim. Gigi has decided that she wants to eat every half-hour in the evening. This makes for particularly difficult sleeping for Kim. Any suggestions?

2008-12-08T16:46:00.001-05:00

And There was Peace on Earth...

Gigi is sound asleep.

O's fever continues. She doesn't want to nap though.

2008-12-08T16:00:00.002-05:00

It's Advent!

Our baby arrived early. We're gotten everything done early and spent less to boot. I've had more time to reflect, which, at times can be dangerous. But this video (I found it on Jon Richardson, a former seminarian's, blog - see right) sums it all up nicely. Enjoy.

2008-12-07T15:17:00.002-05:00

We're home!

Olivia is still sick - she's fine with Motrin or Advil. She's laying in bed watching Loony Tunes (go figure). Georgia just ate and is sleeping in the living room. Mommy and Daddy are emerging from their stunned state.

2008-12-07T14:30:00.006-05:00

Saturday's Photos!
Olivia holding her new baby sister!

Grandma holding Georgia in the midst of a nice wailing session. Olivia is telling her to "Shhhhhh!"

The new and improved family.

Grandma and Pop-pop with Gigi.

Rev. Elizabeth holding the newest member of St. Paul's, Chatham.

Olivia and Mommy in bed (watching Loony Toons). This is what they were watching. One of my personal favorites (Hyde and Hare). My favorite quote is, "You, are a men'al case!"

2008-12-06T00:25:00.005-05:00

Friday's Hospital Photos

Gigi's official hospital photo outfit.

Uncle Paul and Uncle Larry stopped by.

Mommy and Georgia

Daddy and Gigi, both taking naps.

2008-12-05T12:15:00.003-05:00

Some quiet time

I'm home alone with O now. My in-laws are spending time with Kim at the hospital now. O can't go to the hospital today. She showed up last night with her Oma and Dida and seemed a little off... cranky, clingy and not quite herself. As the evening wore on she got progressively worse.

I brought her home with a fever of 102. She paid a visit to Dr. Costeas (the best!) this morning and learned that she has a case of strep. The doctor's visit was a mess. She wanted no part of the strep throat test; or as she calls it, the tooth pick in the mouth. She had a bad experience last time which resulted in her vomiting on the floor of the doctor's office. Nice.

Everyone at the hospital looks healthy, but I have some nagging anxiety that Georgia and Kim were exposed to strep.

I'm sitting in bed able to reflect for the first time on the last 24 hours. In the background is a video of Loony Tunes (Tweety Bird is O's new favorite) and the gentle, rhythmic murmur of O's breathing as she sleeps. It is a soothing alternative to the whining and crying that have taken up the last 12 hours for me.

Just over 24 hours ago we arrived at St. Barnabas in Livingston. It was amazing to me that Kim turned into a patient so quickly. In a matter of 15 minutes, she went from an upright fully-clothed woman into a someone I was worrying about. She had a monitor strapped around her belly with the sound of the baby's heartbeat filling the room. An IV dripped a glucose bag into her hand as I changed into my scrubs.

Rev. Elizabeth was there. It was wonderful to have our priest there - someone we trust and love and know - someone who trusts and knows and loves us. We talked for a while and prayed for a few minutes. She helped us center ourselves amid all of the anxiety.

20 minutes later Kim was in the operating room being prepared for surgery. When I walked in about 10 minutes after that, she was laid out on the table like Jesus. (No, the irony isn't lost on me). I sat down and looked around the room. There were a dozen people there. The Messiah was playing loudly in the background. People came over to say hello and tell me why they were there. The anesthesiologist took pictures. I peaked over over the sheet covering Kim's chest and saw some amazing things.

As James Taylor began crooning 'Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas' I saw a head protruding from Kim's stomach. Less than a minute later she was wailing and turning pink in Dr. Chervenak's (he's amazing!) hands. I was keenly aware in that moment that the operating room had more than just Kim, Georgia, me and all of those professionals in it. The Holy Spirit was rushing around like a whirl-wind. I know she's always there, but I don't know that we're always conscious of her presence.

Luckily, we had a few moments in the morning where that was pointed out. May those moments come more often.

2008-12-05T07:41:00.003-05:00

Georgia's first video

This is from the operating room. The kid's got lungs!

2008-12-04T20:09:00.007-05:00

It's a girl!

Georgia Gail (Gigi) was born at 10:47 this morning weighing a solid 8 pounds 5 ounces and measuring 20 inches.

Gigi and Mommy are both doing very well.

Mommy and Georgia in the recovery room.

Oma and Dida with Georgia. Grandma was there too - but no pictures!?!?!

Aunt Allison & Uncle Ted - check out Georgia staring at Allison!

Oliva and Georgia's first introduction. Shortly after this moment we learned Olivia has a fever. I'll be bringing her to the doctor's office tomorrow.

The weigh-in.

This is a picture from the operating room. The anesthesiologist isn't a bad photographer, huh?

2008-11-09T15:54:00.004-05:00

Great Times to Barack Obama

So a couple days before the election we began explaining the process to Olivia. At 4 1/2 kids pretty much mimic their parent's, but she was clear that she wanted Rock Obama to win! Kim explained to her that after the President was named there would be parties (innauguration) and many people would be celebrating.

After Barack (Rock) Obama won, Olivia wanted to know when we were having our party. Paul and Larry were coming over that evening anyway, so we told Olivia that our party would be that evening. Of course, we made cupcakes. It isn't a party without cupcakes. The biggest problem was explaining why Rock Obama wouldn't be coming to his own party.

Paul played a number on the piano to celebrate, "Great Times to Barack Obama!"

Excuse the mess in the kitchen, we were in the midst of making homemade pasta (it was fantastic, by the way!)

2008-11-09T15:51:00.001-05:00

That's a tall order, but I'm working on it

2008-11-09T11:18:00.002-05:00

Halloween 2008!

Just a couple photos. Yes, I know it is November 9th.

Olivia and her cousin getting ready to go trick-or-treating.

O and one of her friends at a birthday party the weekend before Halloween. I was the only one who found it ironic that there was a tortoise and a hare at the party.

Enough already.

2008-11-04T23:36:00.002-05:00

Now this is what I call a mandate!

It's 11:40pm. I'm dizzy with lack of sleep and joy.

Now the hard work begins. It will not be easy to move our country back to a place of great respect and security in the world. I have great confidence that President Elect Obama can lead us there.

2008-11-04T20:05:00.004-05:00

Check out this story, no, this passion in the 2008 election!

Determined Texas woman, 92, votes in ambulance
Associated Press

SAN ANTONIO – Betty Owen is 92 and after a stroke four years ago, needs a feeding tube and can't walk. But she was determined not to miss Tuesday's election. She arrived at her polling place on a gurney in an ambulance, where an election judge and support worker climbed aboard with an electronic voting machine and let her cast her ballot.

"And you have voted," precinct judge Sam Green said after Owen pushed the red button finalizing her choices. "You know, you look so pretty in that red dress."

Owen grinned, the San Antonio Express-News reported in Tuesday's online edition.

Her daughter arranged for the ambulance ride at the last minute after Owen failed to get an absentee ballot.

Owen, a Marine Corps veteran who served in World War II, cast her first ballot for Wendell Willkie, a Republican running against Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1940.

She became a Democrat after voting for John Kennedy in 1960. She cast a straight Democratic ballot Tuesday.

2008-11-04T19:56:00.002-05:00

Could I BE more anxious?

I said a little prayer and pushed the screen for my candidate at 6:56 am. I knew when I voted that this would be a moment I would look back on, decades from now, and try to remember.

And the waiting begins. (Regarding the picture: Can anyone name the movie?)

2008-11-04T18:24:00.011-05:00

The Pictures! Thank you Chris K!

St. Paul's resident photographer (blessed be his name), Chris K, posted the photos from the Wild West Auction on St. Paul's website this week. I stole some of them to post on my site. I'm giving Chris (not sure if he wants his full name posted) full credit for all of these wonderful photos. Cruise on over to http://www.stpaulschatham.org/ and click on photos to see the rest.

The event was a wonderful evening. We netted over $22,000 for the youth of St. Paul's.

Here are a few pictures. I wish I was more Steinbeck-esque and able to properly describe the the transformation that took place in that fluorescent-filled parish hall. But, alas, I'm not. I can only say that Brian and Janet (our resident architects) had a vision and made it a reality.

Enjoy the photos!

Here is the parish hall. It was much darker in person... the lights strung on the ceiling looked like stars over the big sky. That's John and Tom up there auctioneering the evening away.
Check out the flags on the walls and the sign on the stage.

The kitchen crew! The food was amazing! Pulled pork, ribs, chicken, salad, a potato bar and apple crisp with ice cream!

That's Martha, Ann, Pam and Chris. Ann and Pam spearheaded feeding us all. They did a fantastic job.

Me, making an announcement. I believe that is an adult beverage in my hand. A good time was had by all.

Notice the sign over my head. That was completely constructed from wood.

Tom and John in the background. Three of the kids who were all an enormous help to the success of the evening.

My gorgeous bride.

I just loved this photo.

Wild Bill S! (Hope you don't mind the photo Bill!)

These are the people with the vision! They drove the transformation of the parish hall. Brian and Janet are good people!

Two of our dear friends, Pam and Lora (the Bandito).

2008-10-29T07:18:00.002-04:00

Don't forget to vote!

2008-10-27T22:09:00.001-04:00

Check out this video. Seriously, it's great.

Obama '08 - Vote For Hope from MC Yogi on Vimeo.

2008-10-25T22:37:00.009-04:00

Raku Pictures (and thoughts)...

So I never got around to putting pictures up from my Raku firing. A couple pieces came out well. One of them is on view at a Prudential art show in Newark - giddy up.

I've been giving quite a bit of thought to the overarching pottery and faith theme that will become a part of my final project for Drew. There's a lot more to do, but what I'm learning is that pottery has become a way for me to embody my faith. Religion for me has always been a very academic undertaking. It's been very cerebral.

I think this is where the evangelical traditions have a much stronger understanding of a holistic faith than the frozen chosen (i.e. Episcopalians, Presbyterians, Methodists, Catholics, etc). You're much more likely to find us with our hands crossed in prayer, polite nods and genuflecting on Sundays. There are other faiths who dance, sing, clap and raise their hands in praise. That just isn't me. It doesn't work for me. But I realize that I'm missing that aspect of embodying what I feel in my faith.

I've been doing pottery for two years now. Pottery has become both a creative and a spiritual experience for me. I'm slowly coming to realize that this is helping me to embody my faith. A part of my spiritual development that I didn't realize was absent is slowly coming into focus. I hope to continue to grow into this aspect of my faith.

Who knows, maybe it will actually turn into a recommendation that we all find some activity that helps us begin to see experience the incarnation of our faith.

This is the scene when I arrived at 8:00 am. That big think is the kiln. There is a smaller, unassembled kiln to the left.

This is around 8:00pm. Yes. That is twelve hours after I got there. There is a pot in front of them that was removed from 1800+ degree kiln and put on a pile of sawdust (hence the fire), then covered by the aluminum tin. It gives the piece a black (the carbon from the smoke) crackled finish to the glaze.

A look inside the kiln.

The fiber kiln in use.

Me, all dolled up in fire-resist attire.

That's one of my pots.

This is an interesting video. It is one of my pots that has been out of the kiln for about 20 to 30 minutes. It has been set aside to cool. You'll see the sparks and heat continue to act inside the piece. It reminds me of when we are done with some important act in our lives. When we've completed some major event. We think it is over - but I believe it is then that God continues to act in our lives - transforming that event into something even greater.

2008-10-25T22:19:00.002-04:00

The Results!

I'm still waiting for pictures - our parish-famous photog, Chris K, had his camera in tow all night. However, we raised about $22k for the Youth of St. Paul's.

It was amazing. Your standard parish hall was transformed into an 'open-air' country western-fest. The ceiling was strung with hundreds of white lights, resembling the big-open Texas sky. Flags of western states and old-time country western flick posters were all over the walls. Candles flickered in country themed beer bottles. Ribs, chicken, pulled-pork, potatoes, salad and apple cobbler filled everyone's plates.

By all accounts, the evening was a huge success. Photos to follow!

2008-10-07T20:48:00.004-04:00

Why Not Come to Chatham and Join Us...

a fundraiser to support the youth of St. Paul's

SADDLE UP!

for an

Evening in the Wild West
St. Paul's Auction and Barbecue

Saturday, October 18
6:30 p.m.

Join us for an evening of fabulous food, spirited friends and
glittering treasures!

Love to travel? Bid on glamorous destinations such as Hawaii, Jackson
Hole and Williamsburg, and valuable merchandise in our silent
and live auctions. Gifts include vacation homes, sporting events, fanciful baskets and gourmet dinners delivered to your home.

Cost of $50 per person includes a western barbecue dinner with wine, beer and soft drinks.

Call the church office at (973) 635-8085 for reservations.
Seating is limited, so reserve now!
The Episcopal Church of St. Paul
200 Main Street
Chatham, NJ 07928

2008-10-04T08:51:00.002-04:00

Raku tomorrow!

I'm waking up before dawn tomorrow and heading out to a pottery studio in Pennsylvania. Over the last several weeks I've been throwing and trimming pieces of pottery I've made with raku clay. I've even done a few pinch pots (this is new ground for me).

This is a major part of my final project for my MTS (Masters in Theological Studies). I'm going to be taking lots of pictures and video for use in the presentation. I'm doing this with a prayer for Holy Week in mind.

Raku is a firing that is done outside. You fire the pots for a short period and while they're still hot (VERY hot - 1850 degrees I think), you remove them from the kiln and put them in a large container with combustible materials - which, without surprise, combusts. The piece is shortly thereafter plunged into water to cool and halt the firing process.

My imagery for raku firing combines my love for pottery with a deeply spiritual element. Taking a vessel formed from the earth and exposing it to intense heat and fire, then water is a rather violent act. My exploration between arts and spirituality keeps bringing me back to this violent act of art and understanding how that speaks to me in the context of Holy Week. I have worked for years to understand the violence of Good Friday and I wonder if there is a way to understand this violence in the context of creativity and imagery.

The image of smoke and ash billowing around the pots and the potters reminds me of the ash we impose on Ash Wednesday. These images have been recent reminders of the quote we all hear as ashes are being placed on our forehead, "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return."

I think I start my march toward Good Friday early this year.

2008-10-01T22:21:00.003-04:00

Only in the age of the internet...

Can you find the intersection in two things you feel passionately about.

On October 15th, an online exhibition will go live as a fundraiser for the Barack Obama campaign for the US Presidency. Twenty-seven ceramic artists have joined in creating Obama/Biden-specific work, much of it limited edition, in an effort to raise money in support of Obama in this crucial election.

Here's the link. You can check out the pottery now - prior to it being auctioned. It's amazing work.

http://www.ayumihorie.com/obamaware.html

2008-09-26T22:56:00.002-04:00

I love this photo.

I stole it from my Rector's site. You'll find the link to her blog on the right.

The photo speaks to me for what fatherhood means to my soul. (Yes, I'm well aware that Senator Obama is not the child's father). But the picture invokes images and feelings of the power of love, concern, joy and responsibility. My personal imagery is deeply personal and not for posting.

I hope the photo ignites something in your soul.

2008-09-26T21:48:00.008-04:00

Leadership. True Leadership.

I have not blogged much about politics. That is by design. I tend to get very frustrated with the state of our nation and I've determined that it simply isn't good for my soul to write about it. But. Well. I can't sit by without getting this off my chest. I've been stewing over President Bush's speech on Wednesday night at 9:01pm. (Fear, fear, fear).

His speech lacked some core principal that I expect in the leader of my country. I spent the next two days thinking about that speech and what it missed - and my mind wandered back to a history class. One of my first in college - American History 101.

I slowly began to realize that his speech lacked hope. It lacked confidence. My mind began pulling for the words that I knew I read somewhere before. This is what our nation needs - hope and leadership. We had it on March 4th of 1933. Yes, that 1933. The one with the Great Depression. We had a leader with hope - Franklin D. Roosevelt. We had a leader with polio. He was a man who could not stand without assistance, yet he stood against a great diversity and told this great nation not to fear. "The only thing we have to fear, is fear itself..."

He went on to create jobs for Americans. He gave people work to do with their hands. He gave the people of this great nation pride and hope.

Here is the speech we should have heard:

I am certain that my fellow Americans expect that on my induction into the Presidency I will address them with a candor and a decision which the present situation of our people impel. This is preeminently the time to speak the truth, the whole truth, frankly and boldly. Nor need we shrink from honestly facing conditions in our country today. This great Nation will endure as it has endured, will revive and will prosper. So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance. In every dark hour of our national life a leadership of frankness and vigor has met with that understanding and support of the people themselves which is essential to victory. I am convinced that you will again give that support to leadership in these critical days.

In such a spirit on my part and on yours we face our common difficulties. They concern, thank God, only material things. Values have shrunken to fantastic levels; taxes have risen; our ability to pay has fallen; government of all kinds is faced by serious curtailment of income; the means of exchange are frozen in the currents of trade; the withered leaves of industrial enterprise lie on every side; farmers find no markets for their produce; the savings of many years in thousands of families are gone.

More important, a host of unemployed citizens face the grim problem of existence, and an equally great number toil with little return. Only a foolish optimist can deny the dark realities of the moment.

Yet our distress comes from no failure of substance. We are stricken by no plague of locusts. Compared with the perils which our forefathers conquered because they believed and were not afraid, we have still much to be thankful for. Nature still offers her bounty and human efforts have multiplied it. Plenty is at our doorstep, but a generous use of it languishes in the very sight of the supply. Primarily this is because the rulers of the exchange of mankind’s goods have failed, through their own stubbornness and their own incompetence, have admitted their failure, and abdicated. Practices of the unscrupulous money changers stand indicted in the court of public opinion, rejected by the hearts and minds of men.

True they have tried, but their efforts have been cast in the pattern of an outworn tradition. Faced by failure of credit they have proposed only the lending of more money. Stripped of the lure of profit by which to induce our people to follow their false leadership, they have resorted to exhortations, pleading tearfully for restored confidence. They know only the rules of a generation of self-seekers. They have no vision, and when there is no vision the people perish.

The money changers have fled from their high seats in the temple of our civilization. We may now restore that temple to the ancient truths. The measure of the restoration lies in the extent to which we apply social values more noble than mere monetary profit.

Happiness lies not in the mere possession of money; it lies in the joy of achievement, in the thrill of creative effort. The joy and moral stimulation of work no longer must be forgotten in the mad chase of evanescent profits. These dark days will be worth all they cost us if they teach us that our true destiny is not to be ministered unto but to minister to ourselves and to our fellow men.

Recognition of the falsity of material wealth as the standard of success goes hand in hand with the abandonment of the false belief that public office and high political position are to be valued only by the standards of pride of place and personal profit; and there must be an end to a conduct in banking and in business which too often has given to a sacred trust the likeness of callous and selfish wrongdoing. Small wonder that confidence languishes, for it thrives only on honesty, on honor, on the sacredness of obligations, on faithful protection, on unselfish performance; without them it cannot live.

Restoration calls, however, not for changes in ethics alone. This Nation asks for action, and action now.

Our greatest primary task is to put people to work. This is no unsolvable problem if we face it wisely and courageously. It can be accomplished in part by direct recruiting by the Government itself, treating the task as we would treat the emergency of a war, but at the same time, through this employment, accomplishing greatly needed projects to stimulate and reorganize the use of our natural resources.

Hand in hand with this we must frankly recognize the overbalance of population in our industrial centers and, by engaging on a national scale in a redistribution, endeavor to provide a better use of the land for those best fitted for the land. The task can be helped by definite efforts to raise the values of agricultural products and with this the power to purchase the output of our cities. It can be helped by preventing realistically the tragedy of the growing loss through foreclosure of our small homes and our farms. It can be helped by insistence that the Federal, State, and local governments act forthwith on the demand that their cost be drastically reduced. It can be helped by the unifying of relief activities which today are often scattered, uneconomical, and unequal. It can be helped by national planning for and supervision of all forms of transportation and of communications and other utilities which have a definitely public character. There are many ways in which it can be helped, but it can never be helped merely by talking about it. We must act and act quickly.

Finally, in our progress toward a resumption of work we require two safeguards against a return of the evils of the old order; there must be a strict supervision of all banking and credits and investments; there must be an end to speculation with other people’s money, and there must be provision for an adequate but sound currency.

There are the lines of attack. I shall presently urge upon a new Congress in special session detailed measures for their fulfillment, and I shall seek the immediate assistance of the several States.

Through this program of action we address ourselves to putting our own national house in order and making income balance outgo. Our international trade relations, though vastly important, are in point of time and necessity secondary to the establishment of a sound national economy. I favor as a practical policy the putting of first things first. I shall spare no effort to restore world trade by international economic readjustment, but the emergency at home cannot wait on that accomplishment.

The basic thought that guides these specific means of national recovery is not narrowly nationalistic. It is the insistence, as a first consideration, upon the interdependence of the various elements in all parts of the United States—a recognition of the old and permanently important manifestation of the American spirit of the pioneer. It is the way to recovery. It is the immediate way. It is the strongest assurance that the recovery will endure.

In the field of world policy I would dedicate this Nation to the policy of the good neighbor—the neighbor who resolutely respects himself and, because he does so, respects the rights of others—the neighbor who respects his obligations and respects the sanctity of his agreements in and with a world of neighbors.

If I read the temper of our people correctly, we now realize as we have never realized before our interdependence on each other; that we can not merely take but we must give as well; that if we are to go forward, we must move as a trained and loyal army willing to sacrifice for the good of a common discipline, because without such discipline no progress is made, no leadership becomes effective. We are, I know, ready and willing to submit our lives and property to such discipline, because it makes possible a leadership which aims at a larger good. This I propose to offer, pledging that the larger purposes will bind upon us all as a sacred obligation with a unity of duty hitherto evoked only in time of armed strife.

With this pledge taken, I assume unhesitatingly the leadership of this great army of our people dedicated to a disciplined attack upon our common problems.

Action in this image and to this end is feasible under the form of government which we have inherited from our ancestors. Our Constitution is so simple and practical that it is possible always to meet extraordinary needs by changes in emphasis and arrangement without loss of essential form. That is why our constitutional system has proved itself the most superbly enduring political mechanism the modern world has produced. It has met every stress of vast expansion of territory, of foreign wars, of bitter internal strife, of world relations.

It is to be hoped that the normal balance of executive and legislative authority may be wholly adequate to meet the unprecedented task before us. But it may be that an unprecedented demand and need for undelayed action may call for temporary departure from that normal balance of public procedure.

I am prepared under my constitutional duty to recommend the measures that a stricken nation in the midst of a stricken world may require. These measures, or such other measures as the Congress may build out of its experience and wisdom, I shall seek, within my constitutional authority, to bring to speedy adoption.

But in the event that the Congress shall fail to take one of these two courses, and in the event that the national emergency is still critical, I shall not evade the clear course of duty that will then confront me. I shall ask the Congress for the one remaining instrument to meet the crisis—broad Executive power to wage a war against the emergency, as great as the power that would be given to me if we were in fact invaded by a foreign foe.

For the trust reposed in me I will return the courage and the devotion that befit the time. I can do no less.

We face the arduous days that lie before us in the warm courage of the national unity; with the clear consciousness of seeking old and precious moral values; with the clean satisfaction that comes from the stern performance of duty by old and young alike. We aim at the assurance of a rounded and permanent national life.

We do not distrust the future of essential democracy. The people of the United States have not failed. In their need they have registered a mandate that they want direct, vigorous action. They have asked for discipline and direction under leadership. They have made me the present instrument of their wishes. In the spirit of the gift I take it.

In this dedication of a Nation we humbly ask the blessing of God. May He protect each and every one of us. May He guide me in the days to come.

2008-09-02T23:21:00.003-04:00

Sunset Cruise

This was one of the highlights of the vacation for me. We went for a sunset cruise on the Schooner Hindu. http://www.theschoonerhindu.com/index.htm

The sunset. The sky looked like it was on fire.

The five of us.

I'm not sure what to say about this photo. Other than it had to be posted.

Daddy and O.

This is what I saw right before I went overboard.

The lighthouse.

You could help with the sails if you wanted... but I mean, come on. We could have spilled our wine.

The ropes. No reason. Just thought it made a nice picture.

O and her God Daddies.

2008-09-02T23:15:00.002-04:00

Wires over Ptown

I just love this photo. I took it at a friend's party from their second story deck.

2008-09-02T22:59:00.004-04:00

Critter Cruise

This wasn't exactly my idea of fun, but Olivia loved it. We met up with one of her friends from Preschool. We went around the harbor on a boat and pulled up plankton, muck from the bay floor and lobster traps.

The best part is we were the only two families on the boat.

You want me to touch that thing?

Olivia only held the starfish for about 5 seconds... tickled too much.

Enough already.

Mmmm. Plankton soup.

A spitting clam.

I can never cook a lobster after this. This guy is about 7 years old.

2008-09-01T21:05:00.003-04:00

Sunset on Week Two

We saw the sunset on Herring Cove Beach several times while we were there. Here are photos from a visit in our second week. Paul and Larry are two of our closest friends who were with us on vacation. They are also Olivia's Godfathers... lucky girl.

Mommy and O
Paul and Larry
What it's all about.
The three and a half of us.
When do we go back?

2008-08-31T20:56:00.004-04:00

Surfing - August 20th

Yeah. I'm too old for this. My back hurt for days afterwards. The aftermath involved lots of Advil, a muscle relaxer or seven and a massage.

But it was fun. It's off my bucket list. Who knows, I might actually do it again.

The other person is Anna. Her family went to Ptown with us as well. She was awesome.

On the way to Wellfleet - out the car window at 8:45am.

We carried the surfboards down this dune... it was worse going back up.

Exhausted.

2008-08-31T19:35:00.004-04:00

Finding Chloe (early in week one)

We found this dog in the cemetery. That's not the way you'd want to start any blog entry. Am I right, or am I right? Right. Right. Right. (Movie reference anyone?) Anyway, Chloe was obviously very much alive and very much loved.

She wandered away from her caretaker. Her owners were travelling. We spent time talking to the police and a few other concerned citizens. Sarah and Olivia both loved Chloe immediately. It was their good deed of the day.

2008-08-31T19:21:00.004-04:00

Update: Construction!

We came home from vacation and lots of progress has been made. The footings were being poured when we left. The flooring is all laid, we just have the railings to go, a new gutter and to install the light fixture! Oh yeah, and to have the house painted... anyone know a good house painter?

Then a new grill! Want to stop over for a gin and tonic on the new deck?

2008-08-31T19:20:00.000-04:00

Well, we're home...

Pictures to follow!

2008-08-12T20:58:00.002-04:00

Construction

The Contractor (a former Pru employee that I know) came to start our new deck yesterday. It took them two days to tear down the old second story deck as well as a three seasons room. Three seasons room was actually a misnomer. There weren't any windows in the room that opened, so in the spring, summer and fall it was unbearably hot. In the winter we made ice cubes out there. In three years we never used the room.

It will be added space for the deck. We're looking forward to our first cup of coffee out there on a Saturday morning. Kim is also looking forward to an evening cocktail out there (post delivery of course).

I'll post more pictures as the project progresses.

2008-08-10T19:15:00.002-04:00

Every now and then, we all need a little poetry.

Thank you to Carla (my pottery teacher). She forwarded me this beautiful summer poem.

I thought it might help make your day. It did mine, and it's very well written.

Please take the time and ENJOY!

' Summer '

A poem by Abigail Elizabeth McIntyre

SHIT!

It's Hot!

The END

(Not her best work )

2008-08-03T16:05:00.005-04:00

We're almost there...

I tend to be a person who lives in the moment. Ok, that's a lie. But I try to anyway. I get it right more than half the time. But I've found myself itching for vacation - we're headed to the Cape. The Cape, for those of you who have stumbled here, is Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Specifically, we go to Provincetown. It is a place like none other.

The physical beauty is indescribable. I will do so only in pictures. The town is filled with art galleries and wonderful restaurants, men in drag trying to convince the blue haired tourists to come to their shows, and people like me who are just smiling - loving it all.

If it is possible to be in love with a place, I am in love with Provincetown. It is a place where people don't seem to pretend to be something they're not. People let down their guard and just be present. I'm looking forward to being present there.

2008-07-26T10:41:00.002-04:00

Camping...

We went camping in Cape May with another couple and their three kids last weekend. Well, it was sort of camping. It was camping according to our wives. We stayed in an air conditioned cabin with a bathroom and shower. It was like staying in a really cramped dusty Howard Johnsons.

We did, however, cook outside (I was in charge of breakfast) and sit around the fire at night.

We spent time at the beach and the Cape May Zoo. Olivia answered some questions about frogs and won this t-shirt. Could she BE more competitive? No idea where she gets that. Ahem.

2008-07-14T19:22:00.007-04:00

I did it!

I passed my FINRA Series 24 licensing exam this morning! It was really hard. Seriously.

What is the Series 24 licensing exam, you ask?

The Series 24 license is known formally as the General Securities Principal license and is a FINRA requirement for those wishing to register as general securities principals in order to manage or supervise investment banking or securities business for corporate securities, direct participation programs, and investment company products/variable contracts.

I tried to find a photo of excited business people... it's just an added bonus that they look crazy.

Well, there it is.

2008-07-06T07:15:00.000-04:00

Chalices, chalices everywhere.

I brought these home from Pottery class on Wednesday. They're quite a bit more work than I thought they'd be. You're essentially throwing two separate pots - the stem and the cup. Two pieces that could potentially go wrong. Then you have to join them and level them.

This was an attempt to take some risks with the glazes. I've never stumbled across a chalice in celadon blue - but, well, there it is.

I glazed a few bowls and mugs on Wednesday based upon what I learned with these pieces.

I'll be throwing more chalices and patens in the coming weeks. Wish me luck!

2008-07-05T21:25:00.007-04:00

Mmmmmm, cake.

Ok, so my birthday is past a few weeks. But I was moving pictures over from the camera and had to post this. We have this amazing woman in town who makes cakes. We, very affectionately, refer to her as the cake lady. Her cakes are amazing (looking and tasting). Kim told her I loved Cape Cod and she made this.

This is O's 4th birthday cake. She was on a Peter Pan kick.

Third birthday cake.... yes... Bambi.

Ernie is the bomb!

2008-07-05T14:45:00.001-04:00

Trouble at the White House!

Thanks Elizabeth!

2008-07-04T15:42:00.000-04:00

Anytown USA: Fourth of July 2008
Chatham, NJ celebrates!

We spent an hour and a half at a Fourth of July parade that could have been in any town in the United States. But it was our town, Chatham. We spent the morning watching ragtag kids throwing candy, clowns throwing buckets of water and confetti, firetrucks and emergency rescue squads and politicians marching down the yellow line.

If you weren't able to enjoy your own parade, feel free to enjoy ours!

Chathamites lining the street just before the parade!

I love bagpipers! The parade featured patriotic ones!

Tons and tons of firetrucks! Here is an old one... thought it looked good set against the historic house on the right. If only I could airbrush the wires out of the photo.

There were many firemen and women from the Chathams and surrounding towns.

The seasoned townsfolk...

...and the young. That's Gracie and her Mom, Mary.

This band is great. They're in every town parade I've seen in both Madison and Chatham. I'm always afraid the truck driver is going to give it a little too much gas and lose the tuba player.

Most of the marchers give out candy to the viewers. That's Aunt Allison and her daughter Sarah loading O up with sugar. Is that woman doing a jig on the left?

Apparently, these are the people who they were carting off to the dump.

Here is the Chatham EMS squad. I was looking for our friend Barbara, but she was no where to be found!

There were also a handful of people from the armed forces.

Multiply each of these groups by ten and you'll realize why it was an hour and a half. This parade reinforces how much a sense of community is important in small town America. We knew dozens of people around us and didn't make plans to sit with them.

Happy 4th!

2008-06-29T22:43:00.001-04:00

Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans.

Preached on Sunday, June 29th, 2008 at The Episcopal Church of St. Paul, Chatham, NJ by Jim Mollo

-----------------------------------------------------------

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart, be always acceptable in your sight, our Lord and Redeemer.
Amen.

Many of you know that I was once a postulant to the priesthood. For reasons that are a sermon for another day, I backed out. But there was one thing in particular that I grieved when I left the path of ordination. It was preaching. I love preaching.

One of the things that make preaching easy and fun for me is that I usually know at least a month ahead of time when I’ll be preaching. I have a great deal of time to prepare, to read the scripture, read companion texts, to pray and write. I’m blessed to be here at St. Paul’s with Elizabeth as our priest. She trusts me. I know that. And I trust her.

Elizabeth asked me a week ago to preach today. Not a month, but a week. My response was, “Fine, fine… sure, no problem. I mean, that’s how much time a real priest has, right? Anything for you.” “Wait,” I said. “This isn’t some crazy scripture passage, like ‘women be subject to your men’, is it?” “I have no idea.” was her response and she was out the door. Uh oh.

I have no idea indeed.

“Then Abraham reached out his hand and took the knife to kill his son. But the angel of the LORD called to him from heaven, and said, "Abraham, Abraham!" And he said, "Here I am." He said, "Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me." And Abraham looked up and saw a ram, caught in a thicket by its horns. Abraham went and took the ram and offered it up as a burnt offering instead of his son. So Abraham called that place "The LORD will provide"…”

The Lord will provide. The Lord will provide. What is amazing to me, if not more than a little horrifying, is that Abraham did not expect God to do anything else. But God did. The Lord provided. When Abraham was about to do the unthinkable, the Lord provided another solution. Now, I could spend hours talking about what this passage really means to me, or wonder aloud if God would really expect a homicidal sacrifice from us. But at this point in my life, I am most drawn to two things in this reading.

First, Abraham listened and responded when he was called. When the Angel of the Lord called to him, he responded, “Here I am.” And second, I am drawn to the thought that God may provide what you need when you least expect it. And God may provide WHAT you least expect.

There is a John Lennon song that gets me choked up every time I hear it. I want to share some of the lyrics with you, (I’ll read them because I don’t sing – even when Brandon asks). It is titled, Beautiful Boy, (Darling Boy).

Out on the ocean
Sailing away
I can hardly wait
To see you come of age
But I guess we’ll both just have to be patient
cause it’s a long way to go
A hard row to hoe
Yes, it’s a long way to go
But in the meantime

Before you cross the street
Take my hand
Life is what happens to you
While you’re busy making other plans

It is a lullaby and love story – a song by a father to his son – from John Lennon to Sean. It is meaningful to me simply for its beauty. But also because it speaks to the losses we’ve all suffered, for childhoods lost and family relationships ended too soon.

Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans. Yes. Yes, it is.

Kim is going to curse me for divulging the family business, but most of you know I am a painful extrovert. I share intimately personal information, even when I shouldn’t.

So. Let’s just say we had a really hard time having Olivia. We went through lots of problems conceiving, lots of issues concerning Kim’s health during the pregnancy and we had lots of tests gone wrong. About a year after O was born we started talking about another child.

We bought a bigger house and moved in.
We painted a nursery – yellow and green.
And, well….we tried.
Fertility drugs, we tried, nothing.
The nursery has sat empty for three years.

About six months ago, we agreed it was over. We cleaned out the nursery and I started to pull up the rug to check out the hardwood floors underneath. We picked out paint samples for our new office. We’d moved on. Transitioned. We’re a one precious child family – and we’re ok with that. We decided this meant that God wanted us to go back to Europe on holiday with our soon-to-be five year old and we were happy to oblige.

Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.

One lazy Saturday afternoon in May I was getting ready to cook dinner and began to mix a little inspiration in the form of a gin and tonic. I asked Kim if she wanted a cocktail.

She said she’d be right back. We had recently discussed the thought that she might be undergoing some peri-menopause. I was sure she was going to reinforce that this was the case and that she wasn’t pregnant. Because, well, that just wasn’t a possibility for us.

She came back with the stick and said, “Well, I guess we’re not converting the nursery into an office.”

She handed me the stick. “What? What does this plus mean? Is this a joke? Did you draw that? Seriously, this isn’t funny. Did you draw that extra line?”

Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.

And, at first, we didn’t feel what we thought we should feel. We were upset. We were done. We had moved on. We had transitioned.

But God had other plans.

And we grieved. Yes, we even grieved. We grieved the life we thought we were about to live, for a new life. We were entering into what seemed – the impossible. I know people have healthy children every day – but we for all intents and purposes couldn’t have another child.

I’ve been reading Madeleine L’Engle’s, Walking on Water. L’Engle writes that, “God is always calling on us to do the impossible. It helps me to remember that anything Jesus did during his life here on Earth is something we should be able to do, too.”

She writes about going to a pond and sitting on the rocks and remembering Peter walking across the water to meet Jesus. She said, “As long as he didn’t remember that we human beings have forgotten how to walk on water, he was able to do it.”

“If Jesus of Nazareth was God become truly man for us, as I believe he was, then we should be able to walk on water, to heal the sick, even to accept the Father’s answer to our prayers when it is not the answer that we had hoped for…” (pg 11).

I believe this deeply. It is why I feel so passionately about the laying on of hands. I am certain we have the power to heal one another – perhaps just not in the ways we think. There are deep and mystical powers that swirl around this giant cavern of a Church. I believe our prayers and the prayers of those before us are forever in this place. Sometimes, our prayers get answered just as we’d thought. Other times we see that the opposite of what we hoped was actually the answer. Sometimes, the answer to a prayer is “no.” Particularly after those answers come to us, we’re forced to transition, into a place or a role we had not necessarily anticipated.

And so, Kim and I have moved, slowly, into acceptance and joy. We have transitioned once again. We’ve come to accept God’s answer to our prayers when it is not the answer we expected. We’ve transitioned to getting a new nursery in order, to disagreeing over baby names (I like Lulu), and anticipating bringing a new daughter before you for Baptism. It took time to surrender our own plans to what God had in store for us. Thank God, pregnancies take nine months and we have time to process all of this.

Like Abraham not expecting an alternative solution from God, we didn’t expect anything different either. But God did. The Lord provided. When we were busy making other plans, God provided a different path.

It’s hard to give up your expectations and your plans. But it’s even harder to fight where you are supposed to be.

Where is God calling you – in your relationships, in your work, in the Church? I’m not suggesting you be controlled, but I suggest checking in with God every now and then. Close your eyes and listen. Where is that place that God wants you – are you where you are supposed to be? I don’t mean physically – are you doing what God would have you do? Are you where you are supposed to be? Don’t fight it. At least don’t fight it too hard. When that voice calls you - answer like Abraham. “Here I am. Here I am.” And then listen.

God may provide when you least expect it. And God may provide WHAT you least expect. Be open to it and listen for that voice speaking to your soul.

Amen.

2008-06-22T00:00:00.004-04:00

Celebrate a Life

Kim and I have a tradition that we get to pick what we want to do to celebrate our birthdays. I mean, more than just cake and family. We get to go somewhere for the day. Since my birthday is in June, I almost always pick the beach. This year was no different. I love the beach. We all do, actually.

O had a blast. The water was still cold, but much more tolerable than our trip two weeks ago.

The air was warm and beautiful. O got to play some games and ride on the amusement park rides. We spent about $40 to win $5 worth of stuffed animals.

Kim and I spent the day thinking about a friend of ours from Church who died this morning. She was a strong woman who lived life by her own terms. I have great respect for how she lived and died.

I hope that we instill values in O like the ones Gail had.

I'm certain at least that O is happy. Just watch the video. She'll confirm it.

2008-06-15T19:38:00.000-04:00

Face Painters for Obama!

2008-06-15T09:16:00.003-04:00

O's Recital

Just a brief clip of the show...

2008-06-07T20:41:00.002-04:00

On Death and Haunting

Several weeks ago I purchased Kurt Vonnegut's Armageddon in Retrospect. It is a collection of previously unpublished short stories collected by his son, Mark. I spent the last couple weekends reading some of the stories. In Wailing Shall Be in All Streets he wrote about his time as a prisoner of war in Dresden, Germany. America bombed the city and killed 100,000 civilians. Vonnegut argues that the destruction of that city was not important to our victory.

Vonnegut and many of his peers survived because they were housed deep in a meatlocker in a slaughterhouse. This experience would become the beginning of his famous text, Slaughterhouse-Five.

His experiences as a prisoner of war, and his perspective on the effects of war on all involved greatly influenced his work. In this text he tried to convey what he felt after they saw the destruction of Dresden. "I cannot describe the desolation properly, but I can give an idea of how it made us feel, in the words of a delirious British soldier in a makeshift P.W. hospital: "It's frigtenin', I tell you. I would walk down one of them bloody streets and feel a thousand eyes on the back of me 'ead. I would 'ear 'em whisperin' behind me. I would turn around to look at 'em and there wouldn't be a bloomin' soul in sight. You can feel 'em and you can 'ear 'em but there's never anybody there." We knew what he said was so." (pg. 39).

It is the struggle that many of us feel with war. We watch wars safely from behind our television sets. While military men and women put their lives at risk every day, technological advances also allow bombs to be dropped from miles away. Those bombs, at times, fall precariously close to civilian targets, and sometimes kill the innocents. I have seen too many images of blood soaked streets from terrorists bombing shopping centers.

The dead haunt me.

Someone whom I greatly respect shared a reading with me. It is a reading from Chief Seattle's response to a government official's offer to purchase the remaining Seattle Land in 1845.

"We will ponder your proposition and when we decide we will let you know. But should we accept it, I here and now make this condition that we will not be denied the privilege without molestation of visiting at any time the tombs of our ancestors, friends, and children."

"Every part of this soil is sacred in the estimation of my people. Every hillside, every valley, every plain and grove, has been hallowed by some sad or happy event in days long vanished. Even the rocks, which seem to be dumb and dead as the swelter in the sun along the silent shore, thrill with memories of stirring events connected with the lives of my people, and the very dust upon which you now stand responds more lovingly to their footsteps than yours, because it is rich with the blood of our ancestors, and our bare feet are conscious of the sympathetic touch.
Our departed braves, fond mothers, glad, happy hearted maidens, and even the little children who lived here and rejoiced here for a brief season, will love these somber solitudes and at eventide they greet shadowy returning spirits. "

"And when the last Red Man shall have perished, and the memory of my tribe shall have become a myth among the White Men, these shores will swarm with the invisible dead of my tribe, and when your children's children think themselves alone in the field, the store, the shop, upon the highway, or in the silence of the pathless woods, they will not be alone. In all the earth there is no place dedicated to solitude."

"At night when the streets of your cities and villages are silent and you think them deserted, they will throng with the returning hosts that once filled them and still love this beautiful land."

"The White Man will never be alone. Let him be just and deal kindly with my people, for the dead are not powerless. Dead, did I say? There is no death, only a change of worlds."

Deal kindly with all people. May the dead haunt us all.

2008-06-07T06:44:00.004-04:00

Dancers Preparing for an Audition (add in Degas and google it)

Kim wasn't feeling well on Friday so I took the day off and brought O to dance class. They tried on their costumes for the June 14th Dance Recital. We watched a preview of their dance routine. Thought you might enjoy a few pictures!

It could have been a Degas painting.

2008-06-06T22:41:00.002-04:00

I Love This!

I was looking for an old sermon I preached for a reflection I'm working on and I stumbled across this. I have no idea who wrote it, or where I got it from. If anyone knows let me know - I'd love to give the earthly author a little credit too. I think it was from an email someone sent me back in 2001. Or maybe it was simply slipped into my computer by God. It's long, but well worth the read.
-----------------------
Date: Eternity
From: GOD
To: My Children On Earth

Re: Idiotic Religious Rivalries

My Dear Children (and believe me, that's all of you),

I consider myself a pretty patient Guy. I mean, look at the Grand Canyon. It took millions of years to get it right. And how about evolution? Boy, nothing is slower than designing that whole Darwinian thing to take place, cell by cell and gene by gene. I've even been patient through your fashions, civilizations, wars and schemes, and the countless ways you take Me for granted until you get yourselves into big trouble again and again.

But today, I want to let you know about some things that are starting to tick Me off.

First of all, your religious rivalries are driving Me up a wall. Enough already! Let's get one thing straight: These are your religions, not Mine. I'm the Whole Enchilada; I'm beyond them all. Every one of your religions claims there's only one of Me. But in the very next breath, each religion claims it's My favorite one. And each claims I wrote its Bible personally, and that all the other Bibles are man-made. Oh, Me. How do I even begin to put a stop to such complicated nonsense?

Okay, listen up now: I'm your Father and Mother, and I don't play favorites among My Children. Also, I hate to break it to you, but I didn't write that stuff. I've always been more of a "doer" anyway. So all your books, including the bibles, were written by men and women. They were inspired, remarkable people, but they also made mistakes here and there. I made sure of that, so that you would never trust a written word more than your own living Heart.

You see, one Human Being to me -- even a Bum on the street -- is worth more than all the holy books in the world. That's just the kind of Guy I Am. My Spirit is not an historical thing, It's alive right here, right now, as fresh as your next breath. Holy books and religious rites are sacred and powerful, but not more so than the least of You. They were only meant to steer you in the right direction, not to keep you arguing with each other, and certainly not to keep you from trusting your own personal connection with Me.

Which brings Me to My next point about your nonsense: You act like I need you and your religions to stick up for Me or "win souls" for My Sake. Please, don't do Me any favors. I can stand quite well on my own, thank you. I don't need you to defend Me, and I don't need constant credit. I just want you to be good to each other.

And another thing: I don't get all worked up over money or politics, so stop dragging My name into your dramas. For example, I swear to Me that I never threatened Oral Roberts. I never rode in any of Rajneesh's Rolls Royces. I never told Pat Robertson to run for president, and I've never ever had a conversation with Jim Bakker, Jerry Falwell, or Jimmy Swaggart! Of course, come Judgment Day, I certainly intend to...

The thing is, I want you to stop thinking of religion as some sort of loyalty pledge to Me. The true purpose of your religions is so that you can become more aware of Me, not the other way around. Believe Me, I know you already. I know what's in each of your hearts, and I love you with no strings attached. Lighten up and enjoy Me. That's what religion is best for.

What you seem to forget is how mysterious I Am. You look at the petty little differences in your scriptures and say, "Well, if this is the Truth, then that can't be!" But instead of trying to figure out My Paradoxes and Unfathomable Nature -- which, by the way, you never will -- why not open your hearts to the simple common threads in every religion?

You know what I'm talking about:
a.. Love and respect everyone.
b.. Be kind. Even when life is scary or confusing, take courage and be of good cheer, for I Am always with you.
c.. Learn how to be quiet, so you can hear My Still, Small Voice (I don't like to shout).
d.. Leave the world a better place by living your life with dignity and gracefulness, for you are My Own Child.
e.. Hold back nothing from life, for the parts of you that can die will surely die, and the parts that can't, won't.
f.. So don't worry, be happy (I stole that last line from Bobby McFerrin, but he stole it from Meher Baba in the first place.)

Simple stuff. Why do you keep making it so complicated? It's like you're always looking for an excuse to be upset. And I'm very tired of being your main excuse. Do you think I care whether you call me Yahweh, Jehovah, Allah, Wakantonka, Brahma, Father, Mother, or even The Void or Nirvana? Do you think I care which of My Special Children you feel closest to -- Moses, Jesus, Mary, Buddha, Krishna, Mohammed or any of the others? You can call Me and My Special Ones any name you choose, if only you would go about My business of loving one another as I love you. How can you keep neglecting
something so simple?

I'm not telling you to abandon your religions. Enjoy your religions, honor them, learn from them, just as you should enjoy, honor, and learn from your parents. But do you walk around telling everyone that your parents are better than theirs? Your religion, like your parents, may always have the most special place in your heart; I don't mind that at all. And I don't want you to combine all the Great Traditions into One Big Mess. Each religion is unique for a reason. Each has a unique style so that people can find the
best path for themselves.

But My Special Children -- the ones your religions revolve around – all live in the same place (My Heart) and they get along perfectly, I assure you. The clergy must stop creating a myth of sibling rivalry where there is none.
My Blessed Children of Earth, the world has grown too small for your pervasive religious bigotry and confusion. The whole planet is connected by air travel, satellite dishes, telephones, fax machines, rock concerts, diseases, and mutual needs and concerns. Get with the program! If you really want to help Me celebrate life, commit yourselves to figuring out how to feed your hungry, clothe your naked, protect your abused, and shelter your poor. And just as importantly, make your own everyday life a shining example of kindness and good humor. I've given you all the resources you need, if only you abandon your fear of each other and begin living, loving, and laughing together.

Finally, I'm not really ticked off, I just wanted to grab your attention because I hate to see you suffer. But I gave you Free Will, so what can I do now other than to try to influence you through reason, persuasion, and a little old-fashioned guilt and manipulation? After all, I Am the original Jewish Mother. I just want you to be happy, and I'll sit in The Dark. I really Am, indeed, I swear, with you always. Always. Trust In Me.

Your One and Only,

You Know Who
----------------
Peace, balance & harmony.

----------------To unsubscribe from this list you need approval from God.

2008-06-06T21:38:00.003-04:00

Check this out...

I found a website http://www.rerip.com/ that allows individuals to sell their used surfboards, skateboards and skis. It's really quite an interesting concept. It's the epitome of going green. The (eco)mantra on their webpage is "REDUCE, REUSE, RERIDE."

Keep in mind that my birthday is coming up and I'm going surfing this summer in Ptown. Yes, 29 again.

2008-06-01T08:46:00.000-04:00

Paul Zeigler in Concert

2008-06-01T00:35:00.002-04:00

Shake Your Money Maker

I added a music player to my blog (see right side) from Last.fm. It's awesome. I keep adding music that I like and it plays randomly when you open the page. If you don't want the music playing you can hit the stop button on the red bar.

In the meantime. Get up off your chair and shake your money maker!

2008-05-31T11:10:00.001-04:00

Pottery, Faith and Brokenness

Pottery class is on Wednesday evening from 7 to 9:30. Often, Olivia is waiting up for me. I hear a faint, "Daddyyyyyyyyyyy?" coming from her room. "Yes Porkchop?" I answer. "Did you make me anything?" She expects me to bring her home something each week.

Every couple months I throw minis from the hump (sounds dirty doesn't it). Basically, that means that you take a large cone of clay, center it reasonably well and begin to throw very small pieces off the top of the hump of clay. I can make a dozen or so pieces, and have them trimmed, glazed and home in few weeks. Then I have a stash of pieces to give to O on a weekly basis.

A few months ago I brought home a really cute mini bowl I had made. It had an image of a dragonfly impressed into the center and a beautiful crystal green glaze. She loved it. She decided she was going to bring it in for sharing (show-and-tell for the older crowd) the next day at school. On the way out the door Kim dropped the piece on the tile floor and shattered it in several pieces.

Olivia was hysterical. They called me at work on the way to school. My Admin pulled me out of a meeting to talk to my sobbing daughter. I consoled her as best I could. Instead of the broken bowl, she brought an older piece into school. The teacher later told us that O introduced the piece in tears saying, "I was going to bring in my favorite piece, but my Mommy broke it. I'll never be happy again."

Broken pottery and broken faith. What happens when our beliefs are shattered. What happens when our loved ones die, when our plans are wiped out in a matter of minutes or when we get sick, really, really sick.

We have the ability to react in a variety of ways. Do we bury our heads in the sand, do we give up hope, or do we grieve and then try to make sense of our brokenness in the reality of our surroundings?

We're all broken. I know I'm broken. To me, that's pretty much the whole point of why Christ died. He died to fix our broken-ness. I use a lot of imagery in my life (to get through exercise, to visualize a finished piece of pottery or to figure out just what I'm asking for in prayer). I have an image of Jesus saying... "Look Mollo, you're totally fucked. (Sorry everyone, my Jesus swears). I know you know it. I'll take the hit for this one. Just try not to fuck (there he goes again) up so much. When you see it coming, turn the other way... don't hurt anyone, don't kill anyone, feed the hungry, give cash to the poor, smile at the homeless, befriend people, and most of all love. Seriously. Love." That's what Jesus says to me in a nutshell.

Pick up the pieces! Glue them back together. We did that with Olivia's bowl. The bowl is better for the cracks and the bits of glue. It's a reminder that she has people who love her enough to spend time putting the pieces back together with her. And that is a reminder that we're all better having our faiths mended.

2008-05-29T08:02:00.002-04:00

Memorial Day, 2008

It was cold!

But O managed to enjoy herself.

2008-05-25T08:30:00.000-04:00

A Reflection on Pottery, Faith & Imperfection

In my last post I posted pictures of several pieces I brought home from a recent firing. I had omitted this one on purpose. I love this glaze. It is called smoky brown. No one else in the studio likes it, so the entire rich bucket of glaze is essentially mine. It comes out a deep brown that has hints of a smoky blue haze in it. The picture doesn't really do the glaze justice.

I omitted this piece in my last post because of the a one-inch section where the glaze crawled (pulled away from the piece) leaving the white body exposed. For the most part, it is all I can see. If I force myself, I can see the big picture. The plate itself is gorgeous, and I love the glaze. If only it wasn't for that small imperfection. If only.

Many years ago, when I was Junior Warden (a lay leader position) of our church I was talking to parishioners individually about them taking up a leadership position on the Vestry (the leadership body of local church). I was talking to a woman who is about ten years older than me. When I asked her to consider running for Vestry she laughed nervously. After we spoke I learned that it had nothing to do with the time commitment. She told me that she didn't know exactly what she believed. She said that her faith wasn't nearly as strong as mine.

Then I laughed nervously. Me? Strong faith? Seriously, no.

No one thinks their faith is quite strong enough. Me included. I remember reading a Time article last summer about Mother Teresa's intense doubts and lack of faith. She had felt removed from God. The article stated, "In a letter to a spiritual confidant, the Rev. Michael van der Peet... she wrote with weary familiarity of a different Christ, an absent one. "Jesus has a very special love for you," she assured Van der Peet. "[But] as for me, the silence and the emptiness is so great, that I look and do not see, — Listen and do not hear — the tongue moves [in prayer] but does not speak ... I want you to pray for me — that I let Him have [a] free hand." (Time Magazine, Aug 23, 2007). But yet, amidst that faith struggle, she lead a public life of service to the Christ she saw in humanity. Her doubts did not halt her action in the world.

What do we do with our imperfect pottery? I usually put mine on a shelf in a room no one goes into. And push it way to the back so no one will see it. To me, that small imperfection makes it ugly, and there isn't anything I can do with it. Right? Or, alternatively, should I be thinking about it differently? Should I hide it away or put that plate in the center of the table and celebrate it? Perhaps I should study it to learn what changes need to be made in my technique and learn to improve my glazing ability. Perhaps I should even learn to love the imperfection and accept it as part of the beauty of a piece.

So what do we do with our imperfect faith? The parishioner I was talking to about joining Vestry did join. She realized what I'm beginning to realize about my pottery. We don't necessarily need to hide away our fears and doubts. When we show them, and discuss them in groups we have the opportunity to grow and develop in faith and community. When I was in the ordination process a professor once told me that being a priest is, in part, struggling with your faith publicly. I think we all have the opportunity to do this in the community of a church. If we squirrel our doubts to the back of a shelf we will never move beyond them. We must provide forums in church to discuss our doubts so we can grow in faith and service to God and community.

2008-05-22T18:28:00.008-04:00

Bringin' Home the Booty

Remember a few weeks ago when I posted that there was craziness going on in my life and I needed a brief escape? I went to the pottery studio and spent an hour or two glazing. Well, the alone time was worth it. It resulted in some very creative pieces.

Well, here are some of the results.

Overall, I'm really pleased. The tan and white short vase was thrown, wrapped in rope and unwound. It has some nice markings on it.

The two plum pieces with white on the rim are very nice. Some of the nicest glazed pieces I've done, I think. The platter and green (faux vogel) vase are also nice, but a little heavy - so don't pick them up.

2008-05-22T18:03:00.002-04:00

A set... at last...

I have a matching paten (the Eucharist plate) to the chalice that I posted last month. These are three pictures of the same set.

I have two new chalices to glaze in the coming weeks.

2008-05-20T23:03:00.003-04:00

Proud Mollo... Keep on Turnin'...

November in Newark! I'll be with Tina!

2008-05-18T20:29:00.003-04:00

And they bowed...

O and I looked through all of her recital videos and she wanted this one posted too! I'm not precisely sure what this song is or what language it is (I think it's French, K thinks it's Dutch). I think the story in the song is about a poor family who go to the fair. They don't care that they don't have money and bow to everyone they meet. Or it could be about a bunch of kids with the bends - who knows?!

2008-05-17T23:07:00.003-04:00

This Little Light of Mine...

I realized I never posted any pictures of the candlesticks I made.

These are basically chalice stems. I made three of each color (vc bronze and plum). While the glazing matches well, the shapes don't. (Right, go to Target if you want matching ones). I think they turned out well.

I think they'd look good on a table if there were multiple candlesticks of differing heights. Perhaps they need a toast and a few clinking wine glasses over them!

2008-05-17T13:28:00.002-04:00

O's debut...

I'm posting a couple videos of O's music class recital.

She's got it all goin' on!

2008-05-17T13:23:00.002-04:00

Chee Chee Cha...

Bum out?

2008-05-16T13:52:00.008-04:00

Pottery, Faith and Prayer.

I tend to only pray in Church, at dinner (led by O) or in times of great stress. I agree with many who argue that a response of awe in nature is also prayer, but I'm talking about hands-clasped, eyes-closed prayer. I may sneak in an occasional moment of thanks and praise as I drift off to sleep but that has been rare - until recently.

Pottery has helped me use prayer more deeply in my life. I find myself saying a brief prayer or asking God a question as I begin to wedge clay. As I slam the clay down on the wheel head, (Gunshots Dickie! - movie reference anyone?) I spend a moment focusing on the Holy. I focus on finding the beauty of the object that already resides within the clay.

When I know that I am planning to make a chalice or a paten, I ask for help to turn the beauty of the clay into a functional object to serve God and man. When I hold a chalice I have made, I know that I have prayed over its creation and I know that throughout the creative process I have praised and thanked God so that we might use this chalice to better know God and our role in community.

Over time, as I have prayed over this mud, I have grown mindful of the impact of prayer in the rest of my life. I have, slowly, begun to use prayer more fully in other moments. While I had been praying primarily for strength in the past, I now find myself praying to give thanks and praise, for motivation and for peace (both individual and communal).

The crossroads between the artistic and holy has had broad reaching impacts for me. It has allowed me to decompartmentalize my life. I no longer look at my life as my work-life, my church-life, my family-life and my pottery-life. My experience with pottery has made me more mindful of God's presence in all of these facets of my life.

How can we collectively harness God's presence in those 'non-Church parts' of our lives and allow that presence to grow, spread and gain roots?