the unlikely orange

the brevity of that last post (unusual for me) reminded me of this blog which demonstrates the value of being quite brief.

today my prayers are with all those who are both in the gustav's wake, and in his path. somehow, even in the storm, there is presence and peace. and hope. there is always hope.

this is where i'll be all day.

i don't often write about politics, mostly because i usually feel overwhelmed and way out of my league in that arena. i also have always had this sense that politics are primarily personal and ultimately private. i probably need to do some soul-searching to understand why i have this tendency towards privacy, but i can't help but write today about barack obama's acceptance speech last night. here are some of my thoughts: first, i thought it was interesting that the event was held in a packed stadium. i was amazed at the sheer number of people who would come to sit in an upper deck to hear a speech. it reminds me that people really REALLY care about what this man is saying. when they chant, "yes we can," whatever it is that they think they can do, they seriously believe it. i thought it was a gutsy move by obama to have this speech in that stadium. yes, there is energy there, and the numbers look impressive, but it sure is a great deal of space to fill wi...

upon walking into our "toy room," which is a room in our basement where most of the kids' toys are kept and where they are mostly played with, i discovered that all the toys, puzzles, games, things with microscopic plastic pieces, food from the pantry, vacuum bags, dryer lint and other random items were in a giant pile on the floor. cade was sleeping innocently in his crib, so i deduced that the young toddler standing next to mount miscellaneous with a box of instant mashed potatoes in one hand and a empty lego box in the other was the guilty party. however, not wanting to assume (when one assumes one makes a donkey out of one's self, or something like that), i decided to open an investigation to determine the perpetrator. naturally, despite my frustration at the mess, i calmly asked the master of mess-making who created this catastrophe. actually, it went almost exactly like this: me: wow, jack, what's this? jack: a jungle. me: that's amazing. it has ...

o flaming tree, you are speaking to me and this is a moment different than any other. you burn a voice of hope and life - a call of freedom from slavery-strife, and i can only wonder... who are you that sends me, o blazing and unburnt tree?

"burning bush" journal collage paper gregory a. milinovich just a note about this piece: from time to time i will make impromptu collages in my journal with whatever materials i have on hand (i usually have a bunch of stuff nearby) that reflect what i am thinking about/struggling with better than words can for me at that particular moment. this is just one such collage. usually they are pretty simple, less precise and left unseen. but i thought i would share this one with you, based on yesterday's reflections on the burning bush.