First page of the Miles archive.

I don’t want to forget

Posted by jessica on Nov 19, 2009 with 8 Comments
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Performance, photography, Thoughts and Feelings
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It’s weird, I sort of already forgot about this. I mean, I know I haven’t really. And I know it happened and all that, but I’ve barely given it any thought at all. Not until I looked at this picture, actually. And how strange it is to not be going back to some city sometime soon, for a soundcheck at four and the hope of a Whole Foods that is within a walkable distance.

In a book I recently read, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, Don Miller talks about a guy he knows who keeps a notebook with him and writes down everything that he can remember. All the time. He wants to record his memories because otherwise he’d forget, he says, and I get that. Because although it might not be so bad to forget that time you waited at the DMV for an hour with nothing to do but listen to the sounds of the security guards urging you to please stay in line! and then next! to the person who is unfortunately 50 paces in front of you, it could be sad to forget that time you first met your little niece exactly eleven years ago. And when you walked outside from the birth center to the car that night it looked like the stars had been polished and buffed to the point where God could see his face in them, the newness of that little girl in your life was so radiant.
And I guess that’s why pictures are nice too.
They are memories in colors and stills.
Like, I hardly ever think about Japan. I mean, I do occasionally use the emoji app on my iphone, but that’s about as much mental energy as I give to anything Japanese lately. Call me present minded, I guess.
But I look at this picture and suddenly I cannot deny that I’ve been there.
Walking in a bamboo forrest that dwarfed me.
I remember the way the light was barely lasting, the sun was setting and couldn’t quite reach around the bend in the road anymore.
And no matter what it feels like sometimes, it’s good to remember that there are some things that are true. It’s good to write them down, to take pictures of the love you’ve shared and the places you’ve walked.
I’ve been to Japan.
I’ve swam with manatees.
But more than anything else, I love and I am loved and I have so many memories that can be given as conclusive evidence to support this theory.
But I’ll still keep writing it down, because I don’t want to forget.

story

Posted by jessica on Oct 8, 2009 with No Comments
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Thoughts and Feelings
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Yesterday I spent three whole hours all by myself at Borders.

Okay, so not quite by myself. I parked myself at the apex of a small triangle of overstuffed chairs and the three of us were only too happy to politely ignore each other in shared communal silence.
I read a book. A whole book. Well I skimmed some of it, but got into the anecdotes that described how Brenda would often accuse her husband of simply lazing away the evening in his favorite chair in front of the tv and not investing in the family. But once she started changing her prose to “I am so grateful that you work so hard every day for our family and are such a good provider. I can see that all that hard work makes you tired at the end of the day. What do you think about scheduling some family time together in the evening when you feel up to it?” her husband started responding to the praise and actually initiating family time.
And what do you know, but Brenda and her husband were much happier.
I’m guessing the kids were, too, though nobody mentioned them.
I get into those kinds of stories, and yeah it was a book on marriage. How to be a good wife. Or how to be a better wife, since I’d venture to say that I am not half bad right now. Though I guess I am not the one who makes that decision.
But no, I didn’t buy that book.
I did, however, buy Donald Miller’s (Blue Like Jazz) new book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. I’d already read the first 30 pages online, because I LOVE this guy’s writing that much, and not buying the book, hardback or no, really wasn’t even an option for me.
Let me tell you, it was a good decision.
It’s cutting into my David Sedaris reading, true, but I will get back to you, David; I will, my word is good. Especially if you keep writing about Helen who lives on the floor above you and curses like a sailor and gives you sewing machines just to spite the guy who lives above her who actually wants a sewing machine. Cause these stories that narrate the human experience keep bringing me back for more.
But back to Donald Miller. Now he’s writing all about story, what makes a good story and what doesn’t; why a movie in which a man really wants a volvo and finally, right before the credits role, drives off the used car lot with a volvo doesn’t actually make for the kind of story that moves you so much.
And Don talks about how he goes to this conference in Hollywood and a famous man lectures about the arc, essence, and structure of story for thirty-six hours, leaving Don and his friend with this:
“A character who wants something and overcomes conflict to get it is the basic structure of a good story.”

And I am still just under the first 60 pages, but already he has mentioned how we can choose to live a good story. That everybody has a story, but they all vary drastically. And that the ultimate theme of our story really is under our control.
And this, already, has brought me hope.
Here’s to another 200 pages of more good stuff.