buying decisions

“The roots of the mortgage contagion lie with all of us and our desire to own just a bit more house.”

-Ron Lieber, New York Times

Over the years as Andy and I have dreamed about and perused various home buying options, we’ve felt the pull for “just a bit more house”, which leads to a bit more mortgage. Our search categories have gone from an upper limit of $200k to $250k to $300k — because, of course we could get the person asking $300k to sell for $250k. It’s all theoretical, mind you, as we’re not in the market to buy, but understanding the pull is good.

As we’ve mused about what it would be like to live in high priced places like Seattle, Portland, and Chapel Hill, it’s led us to discuss how to make a small house work. We anticipate that wherever we end up we’ll need a guest room and an office. But those are more bedrooms, meaning more mortgage. Plus, I’d like a living space that is more than one room. An art room or library, perhaps?

So far, our ideas have revolved around finishing basements, converting garages, building screened-in porches, and, my favorite, buying a pre-fab shed. It’s not quite the same as the Not-So-Big House, which I also love, but let’s face it, those houses aren’t cheap and in some cases, not all that small either.

Perhaps our new motto should go from “not-so-big” to “more with less.”

Filed under: Personal finance, in process

art gazing

After reading an article recently on what it looks like to be a consumer of art, I started to think more about my museum experiences. I’ve been privileged to have seen some of the world’s most famous pieces of art in some of the world’s most beautiful museums. But I’ve always been perplexed on how to really appreciate what I’m seeing. In places like the Met or the Louvre, there are numerous floors and wings of art seeking your attention. Other than the Mona Lisa, there was only one painting out of the hundreds I saw at the Louvre that I have a crisp memory of.

Probably, my favorite museum is the Musee Rodin. I think it resonates with me because it’s relatively small and focused. Whereas places like the Met or the Louvre are giant showcases with many collections, the Musee Rodin is focused on one artist and the variations of him and his craft. You see the sketches that led to the sculptures. And the sculptures that led to the final piece. I remember that museum well. The Kiss. The Thinker. The Gates. The Hands. The gardens.

One of the ways the author of the article really observed a piece of art was by trying to sketch it. I like that idea. It’s not about whether or not the sketch is good, but how it helps you to see details and subtleties of the piece you’re looking at, whether it’s art, architecture, or even people.

I’ve often thought that if I lived somewhere with a great museum, I’d go there often to just sit and stare. Yet, I’m reminded that there’s an art museum just down the street and another one just down the highway that I don’t spend time at. Maybe now’s the time for that to change.

Filed under: Art, in process

weird things about casinos

In a sense, casinos are masterpieces. A meticulously orchestrated performance with the ultimate goal that you’ll spend a lot of money at the slots, roulette, black jack, or poker. I’m staying at a casino over the next few days for a work conference and it’s shown me again the great lengths casinos go to in order to encourage their patrons to spend more money.

The most obvious, to me, is that it’s always dark in the casino and thus difficult to tell that time is passing.

Second, they do A LOT of things to keep you from staying in your room. Like only providing 12 cable channels, of which there is no HGTV (quelle horreur!). And instead of providing wireless internet in your room you have to (1) bring your own ethernet cord or pay to buy one and then (2) pay for the internet access yourself.

I’ve also formulated the theory that they keep you from hanging out at the pool by not providing very many umbrellas. It’s pretty darn hot on the coast and without an umbrella, you can’t stay out very long. The best umbrellas and cabanas are found in the “VIP” section. Available at an extra charge, of course.

Another fascinating thing to me is the large cross-section of people one finds. You have the frat-looking guys that wear khaki shorts and pastel colored polo shirts walking around with a Heineken and a few feet away you have senior citizens in polyester pants and Hawaiian shirts. There are the high rollers, whom I hear emerge after midnight, that play in the “High Limit Room” just a few yards away from middle class folks playing penny slots. Every one can find a place suited for them.

I haven’t figured out how this fits into their “spend more money” goals, but for some reason the chairs at the all-you-can-eat buffet are 30 percent larger than normal chairs. You could nearly fit two of me on them! Does one gamble more if they’re in a food coma?

I got an upgraded room this year, so I’m looking out over the Gulf and the pool. And the casino staff just brought me a fruit plate, cheese plate, crackers and water to my room as a gift! That’s probably working against them at this point. I’ve got food, internet, and a view. I’ll be staying put for a while.

Filed under: in process

details, details

Jeannie’s motto is that new (or rejuvenated) plants need three years before they hit their stride. The first year they sleep, the second they creep, and the third they leap. This year, we’re definitely leaping.

First we had daffodils, hyacinth, and lilacs. Then the tulips came. Followed by yellow, purple, and white irises. And now peonies and roses. I’ve enjoyed photographing all of them, particularly when it comes to their details — close up shots that show their dashes of color or marvelous ornate designs that one would miss if they didn’t look closely.

What’s caught my eye isn’t just the beauty of what’s in front of me, but the evidence of God’s ability (and desire) to take great care in all details of His creation. Seeing these amazing details in the plant world makes the fact that every hair on my head is numbered more real and believable.

Filed under: Creativity, Faith, in process

eternal sunshine, again

I watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind for the second time today. The first viewing was almost exactly five years ago — is the phrase “almost exactly” as clear to others as it is to me? — A lot of the feelings that the movie evoked the first time, were the same this time, particularly the feeling like I had just experience a stressful dream.

In my first viewing, the overwhelming reminder was that relationships cause both joy and pain, but that it’s worth the pain to love and be loved. This time, another thought also came through. The thought that it wasn’t realistic.

Don’t laugh!

If I imagined for a second that targeted memory erasure was plausible, the unrealistic part was that by erasing the memories of a person, that one would end up as they were before. While the memories could be targeted, changes in character, or dare I say soul, could not. Interactions with people change you, in ways beyond just cognitive memories. As you see things as other people do, or in a new light, you view yourself, your past and your future differently. So while the memories might be gone, they couldn’t erase the changes to the soul.

The movie ends with feedback loops indicating that at some point they repeat their mistakes, the relationship fails, they erase each other again and again and again. I wonder, wouldn’t their souls have been changed and therefore, perhaps, change the result of their relationship?

Or maybe, erasing the memories caused such dissonance with the changes in their soul that they eventually went insane…

Filed under: Art, in process

life’s soundtrack

This post was inspired by Liz’s list on Facebook about 15 albums that changed her life. I wouldn’t exactly call this a list of albums that “changed my life” or even my favorites, rather it’s a list of albums that I listened to over and over again at certain points in life. (And those that come to mind at one in the morning)…

1. New Kids on the Block, The Right Stuff. Yup, 1990, I was overly preoccupied by the boy band, and particularly Jonathan Knight.

2. DC Talk, Free at Last & Jesus Freak. These guys were my first foray into Christian music around 1998. Rebecca and I went to at least two of their concerts and had a BLAST! At one point, I remember making serious eye contact with Kevin. He quickly became my favorite.

3. Audio Adrenaline, Don’t Censor Me. After meeting the band at a DC Talk concert one year, they became a new favorite. I heard “Big House” the other day while I was flipping radio stations. Man, I love that song.

4. Jars of Clay, Jars of Clay & Much Afraid. I was introduced to these guys at Horn Creek in, I’m guessing, 1999. I quickly ditched my former childish ways for the much deeper Jars of Clay. Admittedly, I still enjoy their stuff.

5. Cake, Fashion Nugget. My love affair with Cake started in college when I borrowed this from Rhett and kept it for a really, really long time.

6. Texas, White on Blonde. This album will forever take me back to France in early 1999. Bryonie introduced it to me and can picture us listening to it in the sunlight of her room.

7. Indigo Girls, Rites of Passage. In 1999 and 2000, I have no idea how many times this was played while living in the Big House at Covenant. This and Tracy Chapman’s song “Fast Car.” (Yes, Jeannette, I’m thinking of you right now.)

8. U2, All That You Can’t Leave Behind. This was the first U2 album that I waited in expectation for its release.

9. U2, Achtung Baby. While I had had this album for a while, it wasn’t until the summer of 2000 that I think it invaded my soul. I remember one night out on the porch with Brent, John, Megan, and Paige with drinks and smokes and listening to “One” and “Until the End of the World.” That was a great summer.

10. Destiny’s Child, The Writings on the Wall. This was another summer of 2000 memory, but I took it to the Philippines in 2001 and found Filipinos loved them and J.Lo.

11. Patti Griffin, 1000 Kisses. This will forever remind me of Joie in 2002 (?). One day in her car the song “Rain” came on and I asked her to play it again…. and again, and again…

12. Eddie from Ohio, Andy’s Mix CD. One of ventures at The Grand was creating a mix CD exchange. By design, Andy and I were in the same exchange group. He made a whole CD of Eddie from Ohio songs. I liked him a lot.

13. U2, How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb. See a theme here? Andy and I listened to it on our first date in 2004. And then went to the concert as a married couple in 2005.

14. Over the Rhine, Drunkard’s Prayer. I had seen them live in 2002 (?) and loved them, but wasn’t taken by their most current release at the time. Thus I was a little slow on picking this album up in 2007. But once I did, I couldn’t put it down.

15. I don’t really have a current soundtrack. I’ve gotten some good leads and am trying them on for size.

Filed under: Art, Friends, in process

fated

Are we more than the sum of our parts? Are we just made up of DNA and our environment? Or is there more. Is there a will, a soul, and a Spirit at work?

I think so. Yet, as I look around, the move towards explaining our quirks, foibles, and even sin as a result of some variant in our genetic makeup, some lack or overabundance when we were a child, or some fantastic or tragic experience we’ve had as an adult is clear.

There are numerous studies that suggest certain genes and past experiences determine one’s susceptibility to addictions, cancers, and even marital faithfulness. And it doesn’t surprise me that one’s material and historical makeup can affect one’s health risks and behavioral tendencies.

What saddens me is that the conversation tends to be less about our genes and environment being a piece of our humanity, but that they are our humanity. The following is an excerpt from an article on the marital faithfulness gene:

… the study is the latest piece of evidence to show that biology — down to the level of individual genes — can play a powerful role in shaping complex human behavior. In other words, if a man’s culture, religion and family background each have a seat at the conference table that determines his attitudes toward marital fidelity and monogamy, his genes might well sit at the head of the table.

If my will, my soul, and my God are trumped by my genes, what is there left to hope for? It seems if this is true, we’re a pile of flesh with no where to go.

Filed under: in process