Things I want to remember:
in no particular geographic or chronologic order...
The iced air and grit of sand beneath my feet in Paris—walking up and down the park to the Eiffel Tower alone and late each night before returning to the hotel.
The stringed quartet inside St. Chappelle in Paris—cold, stirring, dark stained glass, aching mellow strains of music.
The breathless climbs scrambling up and down the temples of Angkor—bumping, knocking knees on the next step and watching the sun set over the cone-shaped spires of Angkor Wat. Playing in the faces of the Banyon Temple like a kid in a jungle gym.
The wind wisping through my 5th floor China apartment the minutes before the rain came.
Learning to love the water in Thailand.
B*tizing Jeremy in the river at Natural Tunnel.
The little old ladies smiling at me on the bus in Cambodia.
Sitting in the hollow wooden space of the sanctuary at Granny White—smelling the old pew cushions and song books and plastic flower arrangements mixed with dusty sunlight slowing seeping—disintegrating--through that cold open air.
Lying on the couch in Nashville, numb and empty and cried-out after losing my job—the shuddering laughter fits that came while watching the Office with my roommates.
When Tim spun me.
Nighttime walks on Lipscomb’s campus.
Nighttime drives and Sunday afternoon drives through Nashville.
My first business cards.
"Ma'am, you're gonna havta kick it harder." ...on the side of the interstate with a flat tire and Scharli.
The moments of flight before crashing my bike in Roanoke when I rode off Yivonne’s driveway embankment.
Late night calls with Jeremy.
The filtered sunlight cutting through layers and layers of maple green in the summer parks of East Tennessee.
From first love: Playing in Sugar Hollow, climbing the paths to Lovers Leap, painting in the art room. Kites and daffodils and loud music and mud and wind. And discovering tastes and smooth skin and an achyish heart in the pit of your stomach. Learning to fish and drive and kiss and grip. Holding on to the handles of the mountain bike as we flew down into the ravine. Sweaters turned inside out.
Falling down the stairs on the way to the office in Nashville—“Oh, uhh, I must have not woken up yet this morning."
Sleepovers in the dorms.
Beth McD in general.
DengLin’s smile and “raaally??!!” exclamations.
“Whhhhaaaaaa!” from my students.
The Great Wall.
The burst of tears the time mom accidentally shrunk that blue sweater—after days and years of worse tensions—the crying over a sweater.
Sitting in the market eating fried rice as all of China bustles around me.
Coffee and cigarettes beside the lake in Hanoi.
Bible Bowl Sundays at the Crims.
Decorating Barbies in "adulthood" with Sarah.
Buying my first suit jacket.
Andrew’s whispered “yes!” when the van’s engine revved into a higher gear.
Dylan and I trying to kill that spider.
The drive in Texas.
Eating Mulberrys and collecting RoseHips and making bowls of mud at the Coopersteins.
Learning to sew with Mrs Kathleen.
Reading Anne Lamott for the first time.
Mom taking all those pictures of pigeons and buildings from the top of the Empire State Building.
Memorizing Philippians.
Riding bikes through the peaks of Yangshuo.
Laura and I making paths in the fallen leaves each fall for Dylan to play in.
Carrying an oven through the streets of Hankou looking for a taxi.
The drive from Green Hills to Cool Springs with the windows down in the mad rain.
I'm still figuring out how to make the quality better--but here's a glimpse of a typical walk from my apartment to the market shops to the actual market...
You will see: a dentist's office in the back of a streetside clothing booth, pigs feet, duck neck, a new style of rotisserie, squid on a stick, an outdoor "neighborhood gym" and many other glimpses into my daily life...
