the bonds that tie us together

after watching bridget jones' diary last night with chelsea and faith, i decided i'm going to adopt the phrase "urban family" to refer to my wonderful circle of friends here in shanghai. that is what they are, really--family. after 7 years here and countless shared expriences including many deeply formative ones, they have seen me at my worst and even worst worst. and still love me. thank you, urban family. :)

speaking of family, i'm amazed at how many of my expat friends here have adopted children. while only a handful of friends back home have adopted, i feel as if every other family i know here has at least one adopted child. ok, "every other" might be an exaggeration, but still, A LOT. their children are all beautiful, loved and well-adjusted, having come from china, taiwan and ethiopia. one couple is in the process of adopting from the ukraine currently.

both my urban family and these friends with adopted children paint for me a wonderful picture of the concept of being adopted by grace. there involves a conscious decision, a willingness to enter commitment, strangers brought together and united with bonds not of bloodlines but of choice--a sense of being welcomed in and welcomed home.

cups of coffee: 1

mood: lover-ly

weekends in shanghai

weekends in shanghai are never dull. in this city of 18 million bodies, it's hard to find a quiet corner. and there are always a thousand and one fun, interesting events happening that even if i did find a quiet corner, i would most likely be enticed out of it by an invite from a friend (or from a friend of a friend of a friend...). this past week was a classic example of all there is to do in this mind-boggling city:

last saturday, i enjoyed watching the Xgames asia for free (thanks, grayson!). decided i may have missed my calling in motocrossing.

last sunday evening, attended the opening of vargas grill, the latest brainchild of restauranteur extraordinaire eduardo vargas. the opening coincided with his birthday, which meant an amazing spread of canapes and delightful free flow of alcohol. the big man himself celebrated by pouring whisky down the throats of his guests (including yours truly....).

this past friday, started off the evening by attending whisky live, an international whisky tasting event making its debut in china, with a friend. oli was working the event and gave us the VIP treatment. :)

after dinner with friends at german restaurant paulaner (mmm....beer and sausages....), swung by cabaret on the bund to show some support for jazz singer friend jasmine chen. jasmine surprised me by inviting me up on stage to sing a duet with her (a little ditty called 'girl talk' that we performed at one of our gallery concerts a couple of months ago). sing in a swanky nightclub in shanghai? check.

saturday was a gorgeous day spent picnicking with arts group friends in century park. we actually found a grassy knoll with an orchard-esque cluster of trees next to a small stream. wow.

that evening, i attended an exhibition opening with a couple of friends. entitled dingbats brazil, the exhibition featured the work of contemporary brazilian graphic designers and their works of digital pictorial alphabets (aka 'dingbats'). finished the evening off with dinner at a new vietnamese pho restaurant followed by movie night at a friend's home (woody allen's 'annie hall').

one thing's for sure: can't complain about getting bored living here. and as much as this city drives me mad at times, i have to admit, i love living in this bustling, high-energy metropolis with so many options of things to do and experience in any given week.


cups of coffee: 1 1/2

mood: pretty good

to create is human...

i have been watching a fascinating documentary series by BBC called 'how art made the world.' the series investigates the effect of art on our society by delving into history, archaeology, psychology, and aesthetics to research the connection between ancient artists and the use and impact of visual images in our modern culture. the series covers topics such as our obsession with depicting the human body in exaggerated and distorted images, how and when art became a tool for power utilized by politicians, why our ancestors began creating visual images in the first place, etc. there is something intrinsic, the show argues, about the need and capacity to make art. we are "hardwired" to create.

i also finally started reading culture making, a book that's been highly recommended by a few friends and up until last week was gathering dust on my nightstand. a thought-provoking read thus far, a lot to chew over and discuss with others. there are two particular passages that have really jumped out at me: 1) "we make sense of the world by making something of the world," and 2) "poverty is not just a matter of lacking financial resources; it can also simply mean being cut off from cultural power."

agree? disagree? discuss amongst yourselves.

watching the documentary, reading this book about faith and culture, continuing to brew ideas of arts and community outreach....i have nothing clearly formulated yet. i completely agree with the notion that there exists an innate desire in all of us to create some form of art. even for those who would not classify themselves as "artists", there is still something that everyone does to form meaning and beauty in the void. and for those who are robbed of their potential to express this ability--i view it as an injustice. they are being denied the resources or opportunity to express their creativity and to make sense of their world by making something; they are being denied a right, an essential trait of being human.

how then shall we respond to help those who have been cut off from 'cultural power'? not only are they prohibited from fully participating in community, but on an individual level being denied their right--their need--to be creative. how am i personally making sense of the world and encouraging others to do the same?


cups of coffee: 2

mood: resting...

beyond broken pieces

every day i witness the fragments of a world that should not be. the car rounding the corner dangerously close to where i'm standing, blindly running the red light and rudely blaring its horn at me. the child rummaging through the trash, picking out plastic bottles under the hot afternoon sun, during the very hours that he should be in school. the young women in tight tops and short skirts, blinking zombie-like at a small flickering TV screen, caged behind glass doors, silhouettes bathed in glaring pink light.

some days, i react out of fury, cussing at heaven and earth and everyone in between. other times, my heart swings heavy, my soul weighed by the sorrow of troubles beyond my control to fix. then there are the times that i actually respond in hope. these are the times that i am able to see beyond the broken pieces to the backdrop of grace, the gently pulsating and ever-brightening glow of the world that ought to be. the times that i see the mending of the broken pieces, the tenacious weaving of shalom back into a world that refuses to give evil the final say.

over the past few days i have had the great privilege of meeting with some amazing individuals to discuss the issues surrounding migrant workers in china. imagine tens of millions of individuals uprooting from their homes and congregating in urban centers to look for work and a better way of life. imagine families being separated, children growing up without their parents, older parents who have no idea where their children are or what they are doing, husbands and wives living thousands of kilometers apart and only able to see one another perhaps once or twice a year. imagine the influx of these tens of millions into a handful of cities, the amount of stress this produces on infrastructures such as health care, education, housing, sanitation....imagine that this mass migration is occurring within the borders of one nation, not from country to country. this is the current reality in china. during the past three days, i have been shocked by statistics, moved by compelling stories of success as well as loss, challenged in my perceptions and how i am to respond. there are no easy answers, no black-and-white formulas. but there is, and always will be, hope.

to look at the issues as a complex whole is to stand in the shadow of a behemoth--a feeling that overwhelms and petrifies, preventing many of us from action. but we are not called to do grand and perfect things. we are simply called to do the next thing and the right thing.

i have been considering my future a lot lately, probably too much. wondering what the next steps should be in my career and further education, turning over and over in my mind all the options and possibilities. very me-centric, actually. being at this conference reminded me that truly, life is not about me. yes, i may be the one who lives it and makes decisions day-to-day. but ultimately, life is not about me. there is an ecosystem i'm part of, a world that when in shalom, is a beautiful and glorious place. that kind of shalom is possible when each person exists for the flourishing of others, i believe. in living for others and not self, in returning to the Creator and His creation the graces He has bestowed upon me--ironically, i am myself more than ever.

what am i called to next? no answers yet. but i know what i am called to now--what i am always called to: act justly, love mercy, walk humbly. perhaps that is enough to know...

photo taken by a sixth grade migrant student for an exhibit at our gallery last spring

cups of coffee: 2

mood: hopeful

music lesson at the blind orphanage

little fingers
that tap and rub and glide and search,
running gleefully along smooth arms and over bumps
of unfamiliar nose and cheeks.
"what is that scent?"
"what color is your shirt?"
small face tilted up,
sunflower soaking light, sound, warmth,
eyes pinched shut in two crescent curves,
sewn by some invisible Hand while bones and skin and teeth
were still being knit in the womb.

the music starts,
ripples of notes that rise and fall,
bouncing off walls,
tumbling like colorful rockets spiraling through a field at night.
head bobbing, arms waving,
hands swatting and cupping air
as if trying to catch the notes--
fireflies on a cool summer evening--
or perhaps they are dancing--
dancing with angels that ride each note,
each iridescent swirl
a twirl
out of present darkness
into ever-growing light.


cups of coffee: 1 (but instant, that doesn't count)

mood: ahhhhhhh......

one wild and precious life

this is my fifth or sixth trip to beijing and i have to admit, it's the first time that i actually really like beijing and could picture myself living here. i think it's been a combination of the amazing weather, the things we've been doing, and the people we are meeting. plus things seem to feel different post-olympics---or perhaps it's just in my head?

i have been absolutely blown away by the people i've been meeting with this week. there is the young french couple who felt a burden to help the blind orphans in china and ended up opening a foster home/training center (with a vision to open other similar centers all over asia). then there is the young american woman who started out befriending street children, taking care of them in her home, opening a school that transitioned into a home for the children and a restaurant business that employs and trains the older kids. and then there is the young asian-american woman who left a promising career in law to start an organization aimed at enriching the education and character development of migrant children through arts and sports.

it is not their resumes or wealth of knowledge that impress; in fact, all embarked on their ventures with much trepidation and little prior experience or expertise. it was seeing the need that prompted their action, and it is their faith that fuels a vision bigger than themselves and even their projects.

in listening to their stories, i couldn't help but feel a zeal and zest to do much more with my life. i'm thankful for what i've been involved in thus far, the doors of opportunities that have opened for me to serve and give. but one always feels like there is so much more that can be done....

i read this poem a couple of years ago and absolutely love the last line. my 'one wild and precious life'....may not a breath be wasted.

The Summer Day

Mary Oliver

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

cups of coffee: 1

mood: inspired

a bit of confession, a bit of a rant

we women are a controlling bunch. there, i said it.

it's something i've always known about myself (as much as i'd like to deny, justify, hide it) and something i've come to notice more and more in others of my kind.

in coordinating a few different events lately, i've noticed how often other women will double-check, triple-check, quadruple-check on different details by asking multiple questions or sending me emails to "kindly" remind me of various obvious things.

now here's the tricky part. it's one thing to be conscientious, especially in terms of your job or given responsibilities. it's one thing to be detail-oriented, thorough, meticulous to the point of mad when you want to accomplish an assigned task at hand that affects other people. but it's another thing to be overly attentive with details that do not concern you, with someone else's task, with telling another person how to do their job. ok, there i go with the ranting.....

why do we do this??? i know it's something that drives men crazy. i can just picture adam in the garden, rolling his eyes and succumbing to eating the fruit just to quiet eve's insistence.

i know why i do it: lack of trust. not trusting other people or even the Almighty to do their job...correctly. somehow in my pathetic arrogance, believing that i am more capable of getting the job done than others. yech.

the older i get, the more i think life is more enjoyable when you live in a constant state of surrender. letting things slide off your back and walking around with two hands wide open.

maybe i need to grease up my back.


cups of coffee: 1

mood: playful