Michelle, my belle

Whenever I walk home from church I make a point of taking this one street that is full of dreamy, perfect houses that make me feel like I’m in a movie. Certainly if I had to live in this city all my life, I’d like a house on this street. It always feels like spring walking down it, no matter the season, and it never fails to cheer up my step and bring a smile to both my face and my heart, as cheesy as that may sound. I'm glad I had my camera with me this past Sunday so that I could finally document and write about it. This is something I don’t want to forget.

So I didn't feel quite comfortable taking pictures of the actual houses this time around. But I think I will go back soon and maybe make a photo project out of admiring my favorite details of this street, including the dainty, dream-like houses. Maybe I can even get a snap of that cute elderly couple that sometimes work in their garden together. Maybe I can actually manage to capture a close-to-accurate depiction of the charm this little place has, for the sake of long-term remembrance.

When I look back on my times on this street, I want to be able to remember the awe and wonder that it brought to my mind. I want to remember how excited I would get at any chance to walk home just to experience this once more. I don't want to forget how some days walking past there felt like I was on a pioneer trek, not because of the weather or the distance, but because of how I felt; absolutely alone or held up by angels, weak or brave, angry or just plain confused. I want to remember the early seminary mornings that feel so long behind me now. I don't want to forget how it felt walking past there on my way to school at 7:20am. I should have felt sleepy or tired, but I actually felt invigorated. I felt grateful and hopeful. Every single time. The sun seemed to literally shine brighter, the flowers were merrier, the rain was bolder. The fog felt light and loving all around. The whole world seemed to greet me and congratulate me on how beautifully the seed of faith was being nurtured and growing inside me.

 I would absolutely love to remember.
x

I need not fear.

Every six months all the members of the LDS Church gather to listen to living prophets and apostles of Jesus Christ. The messages they share, which they prayerfully prepare in advance, are special and relevant to our times. For example, today I heard many things that I almost felt were directed straight at me! Things about being patient with myself, gaining spiritual confidence, being quicker to forgive, and working always in kindness. I feel so uplifted now, as my spirit had started to become weak in the past little while.

I know it’s not popular or typically seen as a positive quality to be so religious as I’ve become in the past few years, but I’ve learned to be brave through it. I’ve learned to be okay with standing constantly at odds with most of my peers. When I first joined the Church, I would talk about my newfound faith through my elbows! I would share what I was learning to everyone and at all times. But I have to admit that since, I’ve felt broken many times. Sometimes the message I share seems to fall on deaf ears, other times its been completely mocked. More often than not, it’s just difficult to even begin to share it because I know that most people aren’t “ready” to understand. And I care and love and respect the experiences of others too much to just come rushing in with this storm of a message I carry in my heart. I feel too responsible. I feel inadequate in being able to explain it all, every bit I’ve been able to learn and savor and learn again. I’ve felt too inadequate to show the world that this message is actually more relevant and tangible than it first appears to be, that each one of us actually already carries the faculties within to become immersed in such a cause and to be so wonderfully transformed by fighting for it! I feel too inadequate to explain the spiritual manifestations that I’ve received, because they are too personal and too sacred, and everyone needs to choose to experience them for themselves. Everyone can experience them for themselves. But, as with everything in this life, they have to choose. We all have to choose.

Well, I have surely chosen. And by choosing to believe in Christ, a prophet and Savior whom many have learned to doubt because His very followers have failed to represent Him fairly, I also choose to stand at odds. And that’s okay. I will try to get over my fears and inadequacies and I will just try to explain in simple words what I’ve come to know. The best way that I can do that is like this: honestly and stripping myself of all protection from scorn. Exposing my biggest weaknesses and fears. Vulnerably. I will get over thinking that I have to do it alone, for He who sent me is my very source of strength and He has shown me time and time again that I need not fear.

Sharing this big ol’ chunk of my heart publicly is all I can do for now. ♥

Lady Stardust

 If there is one thing I surely want to remember about this summer is the amount of time I got to spend with my little sister. The fact that we're eight years apart in age is becoming less and less evident in the way we treat each other and admittedly also in that she's now taller than me. Yikes! But boy, do I love every bit of her. When we're together it's easy for me to completely let my guard down and act plain silly. We laugh so long and loud sometimes that I'm sure our parents are starting to become concerned.

This summer we beat boredom by taking pictures, eating farmers market bread, making fake movie trailers and other videos, filming our parents doing weird stuff, making fun of our parents doing weird stuff, boycotting against the viewing of telenovelas in our house, listening to Buddy Holly and Gepe, watching Rugrats for hours, baking chocolatey desserts and devouring them, practicing our Português (her favorite word is "abacaxi"), and looking up some seriously bizarre things on Google. Did I mention we laughed a lot?

Her existence is living, earnest evidence of God's love and involvement in my life. Without a doubt.

I feel sorry I didn't learn to appreciate her more earlier. I let the excitement of finally having a little sister and a new best friend die away as the years rolled on. I hope that I'll be able to make up all that time to her by loving her and honoring her virtues. Let me tell you, she has many. She is a light to the world, a beacon of hope, and the biggest blessing my family has received. I truly believe that. I find evidences of this truth every day as I witness the wonderful, graceful way in which she brings everyone together, whether intentionally or not. I especially see it in her unconditional forgiving nature. I am grateful for her wisdom, and the way she constantly calls me out in my pride and humbles me with her simple words. I pray that she will always stand for truth and goodness, no matter how much the rest of her changes.

 Thank God for this little girl whose head is constantly somewhere in the vastness of space; seeking, creating, learning, and loving as she goes.

(Photos taken on the fourth of July, 2014.)

Being sick is humbling.

Being sick is always a humbling experience, and for that, I am grateful. Weird, huh? But it's true. When I am sick, I am always forced to slow down. Lay down. Relax. Except...I hate relaxing. Unless I am daydreaming or in need of a nap, I hate just lying there doing nothing. Being sick, weak, and in pain is the perfect reminder that I don't have control over everything.

Of course for my stubborn self, being sick also seems to be the perfect motivation to get more done. For example, on Saturday night I decided I wanted to make homemade granola. Even though my entire body craved peace and rest, I prepared and baked that granola non-stop. Afterward I cleaned up the mess I had made without second thought (hallelujah!) and I even cleaned the pantry. I know. What a freak. I would have washed the dishes too if my mom had let me...

Unfortunately, I did have to miss out on Stake Conference because of this. Sunday morning I woke up feeling extra weak but determined to at least watch the live broadcast of the conference at my local church building. I thought there wouldn't be many people, but the place was packed! I sunk into my seat hoping to be able to keep my illness to myself for the whole two hours. I succeeded, and though towards the end it became more difficult to sit still, being able to feel the Spirit in such a special way was worth it. Always worth it.




And what a beautiful day it was! Since it was freezing inside the chapel (as it always seems to be), I walked straight out of there craving nothing but the sun and its warmth. The moment I realized I was out in full sunlight and actually enjoying it, I knew this whole being-sick deal was something special to learn from. On the way home all I craved was a warm bed to nap on, and I promise, though it might sound crazy, I entered my room and frantically delighted in every passing second for the next half hour. I snuggled in my bed as if I had never snuggled in a bed before. I snapped pictures and scribbled hurriedly in my thought journal everything I could feel so I wouldn't forget. I simply felt joyful.

How is it that we can feel full of light when everything should be darkness and distress? I only attribute it to the Light of Christ. The beautiful, simple knowledge of things as they really are. I am grateful for a body that fights to heal itself, and I am grateful for a spirit that is bound, through faith, to rest in due time in the celestial mansions of a loving Heavenly Father.

 I am grateful for sleepy, sickly eyes; for an aching chest and a sore throat. I am grateful for darkness in contrast with warmth and light. I am grateful for people who feel the same kinds of things that I do, and longingly try to explain it all in words during simple but powerful church meetings. I am grateful to be a witness and participant of the miracles of this life.

P-Day, Temple Day + an update, finally

I've been wanting to start using my blog more often for a while, yet I tend to put limitations on myself. "I don't have good pictures to upload", "I don't have anything interesting to write", "I won't be able to keep up constantly with it as always, why even try", etc etc. But I really need to learn how to override those thoughts with motivation. I'm so keen on documenting my life in every medium possible and blogging is one of my favorite ways. I love to pair my photos with words, and I'm learning how to be more brave about doing so. Something I love about blogging is being able to come back and re-read old posts that are neatly archived and labeled. The Nostalgia Queen inside of me deeply appreciates a good archive of memories.

So here's something: I had the opportunity to visit the Sacramento LDS Temple just yesterday. The missionaries in my ward were going and I enthusiastically managed to tag along. The Sister missionaries are super great about involving me, and I'm ever grateful for all they do just to help me be closer to Christ. They're the sweetest. <3

It was a bit of a stressful day for everyone, mostly because of time. It was the day before transfers and all the missionaries were scatter-brained trying to fit in all their P-Day activities and preparations into a tight schedule. Yet, the strength we all received at the Temple, and the strength that is constantly available to us because of the Gospel kept us going joyously.

   

I wish I had been better at photographing and writing about all the missionaries I've been able to meet since I started attending church. I feel like I haven't been doing my job and that I've wasted lots of potential. Here's to changing that! All the missionaries I've had the privilege of meeting these 2+ years have been amazing and so unique, every single one. I no longer see full-time missionaries as perfect angels that always know exactly what to do, but as faithful young men and women who simply and enthusiastically seek to do God's will, no matter how imperfect they are at it. It doesn't get better than that. I learn lots from just observing them as they serve and I am grateful for being able to work alongside with them as often as I get to.

After doing some temple work, the sweet sister who gave us a ride to Sacramento took me with her to Deseret Book. Every time I enter that store I honestly, truly feel like it's the only store I ever need to shop at. Who needs food and clothes when you have so many cool Gospel books at your disposal!? I always end up leaving just wishing I could have bought everything. As weird as it may sound, I hope I will probably always feel that way and never lose my enthusiasm for Gospel-related things and learning. I bought some books as gifts, some stickers, a dark chocolate bar because it was "Under 1.99!" (and because it's chocolate....duh), and the cutest little notebook whose cover I'm convinced was inspired by me, me, and only me. "You had me at daily scripture study". *-*

After the great adventure at Deseret Book, we went to a market called KP International. They have all sorts of food and things from different cultures and my favorite part was that they played The Beatles and Creedence Clearwater Revival while I was there. That alone puts it on my list of top favorite places in Sacramento (after the Temple and Desert Book, of course). Super cool! We came back to the temple just in time to take some photos before heading back home. I took a few of the missionaries from my ward, and then we had a sister attempt to take some with me in the picture too but...er, let's just say that next time I should put my camera on auto-focus just to make it easier on everyone! Haha. On the two-hour ride home I ate a greasy thing called a Peroski (?) filled with potatoes and mushrooms, and I made a mental note never to eat one of those things again. Not that it wasn't good, but I could just feel my arteries being clogged up with every bite. 

Anyway, my favorite parts of the trip back home were writing and drawing in Hermana Cuesta's "Bye-book" (kind of like a yearbook for missionaries), and being amused by the Elders trying to pass us on the freeway various times and failing hilariously. I hung out with the Manteca Sisters for a while as I waited for Sister Robinson and the Tracy Sisters to pick me up. Once we got to Tracy, we all headed straight to the church building to e-mail. It's always neat watching the missionaries write their friends and families back home. It gives me a little glimpse of what it's like when my friends serving out in the world write to me. :)

I mostly sat

 around and watched everyone type, joke around, and sign each others' "Bye Books". Again, I felt grateful for being able to spend so much time with missionaries. I never want to not be Ward Missionary, never ever.

After a rushed e-mailing hour we were finally able to take some pictures wearing our Book of Mormon T-shirts! That's one of the main reasons why I stayed with them all day, so that I could snap just a few shots of them all together before they were transferred. We missed Hermana Thomas! <3 And the missionaries really do love their T-shirts.

 "Do something Asian," I said, and they obeyed. It's no surprise, though. They are missionaries after all!

 And that's right about where my day with the missionaries ended. It'll be strange not having some of them around next transfer, but that's how it always goes in the great and wonderful missionary work. We have to be in constant motion, working, serving, teaching, loving. As for me, I will be adding documenting and blogging more into the mixture. It'll help me remember more and remembering more will help me be filled with gratitude. That's something I have been learning about a lot in the past few months. I'm learning to be more constantly aware and grateful. 

Resilient and grateful. <3

shift

I don't know where to start but there's so much going on and at same time life feels like I'm stuck inside this photo. 
 

    I am trying to document my life more, and in more organic ways. Sometimes I photograph, sometimes I journal, and sometimes I make mental notes acknowledging the risk of them being forgotten. I don't need to remember everything, right?

(All photos taken on a lazy Saturday, April 19, 2014.)

Recently I've been listening to a lot of music that may or may not be slightly out of my character, but it's slowly becoming the soundtrack to my life and I love every bit of it.

hello again! + an actual recipe (sorta)

I haven't updated this thing in a year or so and I only feel slightly guilty.
Okay, no, the truth is, I always think about updating it, because coming back here to read my old posts is always a neat experience. Sometimes it's way too emotional and nostalgic, other times it's simply motivating. Motivating to do more, to enjoy more, to document more.

This year I have a few really big goals, and a few smaller goals that I hope to add to and expand from along the way. My bigger goals will probably help me accomplish my smaller ones, and I'm glad that it is so. It's less stressful and overwhelming that way. One of my smaller goals is to document more of my life photographically, and to accompany it with my own words on this blog. I also want to start a 52 weeks self-portrait project. I think that will be mostly therapeutic for me. To wrap it up: I really just want to document more for the sake of documenting. My future self will appreciate the effort, and that's really what I'm looking forward to. If you happen to read this, I hope you enjoy what I have to offer.

So, another one of my smaller goals is to start preparing meals for myself more. I tend to just slightly modify whatever my mom makes to fit my taste/needs, or simply grab whatever I can find that looks tasty (fruit, mostly) and eat as is. I like eating that way, but I also think it would be beneficial to learn how to prepare actual meals that others would want to eat. I also want to figure out a more basic, wholesome, clean kind of diet for myself, and for that I need to start getting out of my comfort zone and experimenting. I think pretty much all my goals require getting out of my comfort zone...*cringes just a little* Anyway, here are some photos of a delicious quinoa recipe that I came up with on the spot. It may have been subconsciously inspired by stuff I've seen online, but I couldn't really tell you for sure.

I make my quinoa very simply. Rinse, bring to a boil, let simmer, serve. No salt.

I prepared some cilantro and jicama to add to the quinoa once it was done.

Once the quinoa was ready to serve, I added the jicama, sprinkled black pepper, and topped with the cilantro. To my surprise -- it was good! It was even approved by my little sister. Yay.

I'm pretty sure I spent way more time photographing this than actually eating it.
Somehow I am totally okay with that (okay, yes, I'm also used to it).

Make your own quinoa and share your recipe with me!
xo