Author: Alina

Signs of the Southwest

~ Alina ~ 4 Comments
I get such a kick out of road signs. I grew up with the habit of reading anything with words on it (including the backs of cereal boxes at breakfast). So now it’s hard to stop. And sometimes, especially while traveling, the habit leads to laughs. 
For example: where else but the Grand Canyon will you see a “Mule Crossing” sign? Let alone one that gives them the traffic right-of-way? 

I liked this one in Bryce Canyon, Utah. I thought maybe standing close to it would be good for my creative juices.

This one, at Hoover Dam in Nevada, was especially beautiful. I didn’t expect to find a giant lump of concrete so interesting, but it takes on a different meaning when you realize that this giant dam redeemed a desert wasteland. Because of Hoover Dam, arid stretches of Arizona, Nevada, and southern California are now fertile and life-supporting. And more than a few workers during the Great Depression gave their lives to make it happen. 

Sometimes, grammar is just funny. (If you’re wondering, the correct conjugation is “bitten.”)

Some wise and artistic person decided to complement the beauty of the Grand Canyon with the beautiful and praise-giving words of the Psalms (I found these plaques scattered at various viewpoints along the South Rim).

And the moral of the story is: do not–do NOT–attempt to buy gas in Death Valley.

Seen any wise, wacky, or hilarious road signs lately? 

Canyons

~ Alina ~ 4 Comments

Canyons are a bad idea.

As my family and I roadtripped around the American Southwest at the end of May, we saw a lot of them. They’re fissures in the earth, weird yawning abysses. I thought of Dante’s Inferno or C.S. Lewis’s The Great Divorce. In fact, it looks like I wasn’t the only one:

A sign from the Grand Canyon shuttle route

Canyon hiking is an especially bad idea. Besides the abnormal elevation at the rim, the increasing temperature as you descend, the arid landscape that sucks out your body moisture, the sheer drops at every turn, the risk of poisonous snakes and scorpions, possible claustrophobia, and rapidly changing weather conditions, you have to deal with this fact:

Down is optional, up is mandatory

Unlike with mountain hiking, in a canyon you hike downhill first, while you’re fresh. But you’d better hike to only about 1/3 of your energy–because then it’s twice as hard to come back up. When you’re already tired.

So canyon hiking is a really bad idea.

But…

…if we never took risks…

…if we never ran with an idea that might fail…

…if we never did anything just a little bit crazy…

…we’d miss out on this.

Bryce Canyon, Utah

And this.

Grand Canyon, Arizona

And this.

Antelope Canyon, Arizona

Sometimes risks aren’t worth the payoff. And of course you have to plan for them accordingly. But sometimes…maybe unexpectedly…risks can reveal life’s beauty.

Ever taken a risk that made you glad you did? 

Inner Beauty Photo Shoot

~ Alina ~ Leave a comment

Yesterday I had the privilege of photographing two lovely young women, both of whom recently graduated from college. (It’s that time of year when it seems like everyone is transitioning from one life stage to another!)

Kristin has a smile that could dazzle the socks off of you. She’s also got this incredible long blonde Rapunzel hair (not quite 70 feet long yet, but getting there).

Jasmine has these stunning eyes that kind of change color to match whatever shade of blue she’s wearing. And a great sense of style. I mean, seriously.

What I enjoy most about these ladies, though, is their personality and sense of adventure. I always enjoy interacting with women who exemplify a sense of inner beauty. You can’t always catch that sense of sincerity on camera, but occasionally it comes out. For instance, Kristin wasn’t afraid to play on the corkscrew fixture at the playground. No, sirree.

And Jasmine cleverly repurposed that pink scarf she’s wearing from another piece of clothing. You can’t see it in this shot, but she then repurposed it again as a dance ribbon.

Loveliest of all is the friendship between these two, which I’ve been blessed to participate in over the many years we’ve known each other.

Happy graduation, Kristin and Jasmine! Here’s to two young women who are beautiful, both on the inside and outside!

Next week I’ll be starting a series based on my family’s roadtrip around the American Southwest. Be sure to check back in for some crazy pictures, stories, and traveler tips! 

Independent Bookstores: Pacific Avenue, Santa Cruz

~ Alina ~ Leave a comment
On an avenue lined with bakeries, antique shops, street singers, and delicious coffee stand three little-known gems of the literary world. Today we’re on Pacific Avenue, Santa Cruz.
First stop: Bookshop Santa Cruz.
This one’s a mix of new and used books, priding itself on its independence and emphasis on local authors. With a clean, bright interior and an impressive selection, it’s also one of only twelve bookstores nationwide to have an Espresso Book Machine. Okay. This is the coolest thing ever. It’s a machine that prints books on demand, on the spot. You can select from over 8 million titles and have your own copy printed, bound, and trimmed in front of your eyes, or even self-publish your own book. (The link above includes a video of the machine printing.)

Next up: The Literary Guillotine.

Cool sign, right? Considering that Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities is one of my favorite books, I definitely stood there and snickered at it for a moment.
The Literary Guillotine isn’t located right on Pacific Avenue–it’s just off to the side, at 204 Locust Street (wonder if there’s any symbolism in that). There’s a cute little red wagon containing sale books just outside the door. Unfortunately, I thought the outside was a little cooler than the inside. Maybe I’d think differently if I were still in college–their selection is heavily academic, catering especially to UCSC students. Maybe my brain is getting soft, having been out of school for almost 2 years.
Last, but not least: Logos Books and Records.
Fun factoid: logos (λογοσ) means word or Word, one of my favorite words in Greek (see my blog subtitle). I’m not much of a music person, but Logos Books and Records definitely has a selection–along with a huge variety of paperbacks, hardbacks, bestsellers, and antiquarian books, which hold much more draw for me. Over 40 years old, Logos claims to be the largest independent used books and music store on the central coast of California. On a previous occasion, I found a book on bookbinding here; this time, I bought a copy of Dorothy Wordsworth’s journals, cross-referenced with a selection of her brother William’s poems. After learning about Dorothy while visiting the Wordsworth’s home in England, I was thrilled to find some of her writings. Such “finds” are one of my favorite things about the used bookstore experience–I came out with something I wasn’t looking for, but that adds a welcome “friend” to my collection. Old, obscure, and only $5? Yes please.

At a price like that, I can get coffee too…and enjoy both at San Lorenzo Park across the river.

Have you been to any of the bookstores on Pacific Avenue? Have any reviews, trip stories, or extra information to share? I’d love to hear your comments! 

Why Independent Bookstores?

~ Alina ~ 6 Comments

Though I’ve been a book addict since before I could read and much of my childhood was spent haunting Barnes and Nobles or public libraries, it wasn’t until college that I really discovered independent bookstores.

Here are my top 3 reasons to choose an independent bookstore:

1. Cheaper books

Many independent bookshops stock used as well as new books. As any economist can tell you, when the price of a commodity falls, demand for it rises, because people can afford to buy more of it. Cheaper books=more books on my shelf. Where’s the problem?

2. Charm

Far from the mass-produced commerciality of chain bookstores, with their hygienic, matching stacks of flash-in-the-pan bestsellers, independent bookstores have the allure of individuality and eccentricity. Don’t get me wrong–I love a good multi-story Barnes and Noble with a digitized inventory system (I spent two college summers working in one), or in Britain, a big, clean Blackwell’s or Waterstones. But from the sign over the door to the entrance display of books to the cat in the window, no two used bookstores are exactly alike.

3. Adventure

Chain bookstores have the feel of business parks; independent bookstores are more like house parties with literary friends. You step in and run into someone you know (“Mr. Wordsworth! It’s been too long!”), make some small talk, and pretty soon they’re introducing you to their friends and their friends’ friends (Eco, Joyce, Zusak, I take down on my To-Read list). Next thing you know, you’re exchanging business cards and promising to keep in touch and walking out with a dreamy smile and a stack of “finds” you didn’t know existed an hour ago. (This is why I often leave my credit card in the car when I enter a bookstore.) It reminds me of the movie Midnight in Paris, where if you step into the magic car at midnight, you might be whisked off to sit in Gertrude Stein’s living room and watch Hemingway argue with Fitzgerald. Sometimes I’m so overwhelmed by the collective wisdom and camaraderie that I get teary in front of the fiction section.

Image courtesy of stock.xchng and kaeska

So, to shed some light on these little-known gems (and to give myself an excuse to visit more of them), I’m starting a blog series profiling various independent bookstores, especially those that include used books. Some will be local to my area, some farther afield. While there won’t be a new one every week (I wish), this series will be recurrent as I discover more bookstores. If you read about one you’ve visited, feel free to post your experience with it in the comments section. If there’s one that strikes your fancy, go visit (and let me know how it goes)! Or, best of all, if you have recommendations for bookstores I should cover, I’d be only too happy to hear about them 🙂

Next week: a trio of bookstores on Pacific Avenue in Santa Cruz…

Heroines of Inner Beauty

~ Alina ~ 3 Comments

As kind of a follow-up to last week’s post, I’ve compiled a Top 5 list of books that focus on inner beauty. They’re all fiction, because I believe stories are one of the most powerful teaching tools in existence. Some of the heroines of these books have been my best friends and role models since childhood. If you’ve already met some of them yourself, you know what I’m talking about.

So without further ado: a reading list for your daughters, nieces, sisters, or anyone else you might want to inspire to grow in inner beauty.

1. Anne Shirley, from Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery

If I were a literary character, I’d want to be Anne. The smart, spunky, redheaded heroine often gets herself into “scrapes” because of her quick temper, but her imagination and indomitable spirit usually dig her back out again. 

2. Polly Milton, from An Old-Fashioned Girl by Louisa May Alcott

While the author’s tone can verge on moralistic at times, the childlike Polly is impossible not to like. She grows from a little girl who enjoys being one to a responsible, kind young woman who sets the example for others.

3. Sara Crewe, from A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett

A classic riches-to-rags-to-riches story, A Little Princess follows Sara from a position of great wealth to one of destitution. While she starts out as a kind, imaginative girl, poverty puts her to the test–and reveals that being a princess is something that comes from the inside.

4. Stargirl, from Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli

This whimsical modern classic follows Leo Borlock’s discovery of and fascination with Stargirl, a formerly homeschooled high schooler who simply doesn’t conform to the crowd. Whether she’s carrying her pet rat around in a sunflower bag or cheerleading for the opposite team, Stargirl is always true to herself, never bending to others’ expectations.

5. Anne Elliot, from Persuasion by Jane Austen

Jane Austen’s last work (and one I just read last year), Persuasion isn’t your typical love story. Anne Elliot has lost love and never expects to find it again, filling her life instead with cheerful, humble service to friends and family. When love does reappear for her, it is sweeter than she could have imagined.

Have you read any of these books? Are there any that you’d add to this list? 


Tiaras

~ Alina ~ 2 Comments
I am writing this post while wearing a tiara. (It’s quite fun; you should try it sometime. I think maybe it helps me to write better.)
It came from a women’s retreat, where I was privileged to address a group of lovely women last Saturday. We gathered to discover what “Once Upon A Time” (one of my favorite phrases in the world) means for women trying to live as Christians in an often confusing world. 

I don’t love large crowds of strangers, and assumed I would feel awkward at this retreat. Although these glittery tiaras were temptingly arrayed on the tables when we walked in, I self-consciously left them there until I saw the other women putting them on with gusto. Green, blue, pink, purple crowns sparkled in gray hair, red hair, black hair, sparse hair. Women who had fussed with their straightening irons or their ponytail holders before coming, now laughed and let the plastic combs do their worst. It was time for me to learn to go with it. I was glad I did. Because for a few hours, we all got to be little girls playing princess.

Playing princess: something I have practice at

Some of the things said at the retreat were quite serious. We talked about destructive messages about outward beauty and the constant temptation to be self-centered. The longing to be beautiful consumes many women, who turn to eating disorders, plastic surgery, or a constant negative self-image as a result.  Some women appear very beautiful outwardly, even while they climb over others to put themselves first. It broke my heart to see the nodding and tears in the audience as we discussed these personal and painful issues.

Image courtesy of stock.xchng and zielnet

Beauty is often portrayed as something to be bought; a hopeless ideal that no woman without an airbrush can ever really achieve. The recent Dove beauty commercial takes strides toward achieving a more realistic standard, but its focus is still on the outside. Real beauty, that doesn’t depend on age, ethnicity, acne, freckles, height, weight, or whatever, comes from the inside. It’s the beauty of quiet strength, of a servant heart. It’s the difference between cheap, glitzy rhinestones and hard-as-nails diamonds.

Image courtesy of stock.xchng and jc_2086

But at this retreat, we did not neglect to be silly as well. With games like purse scavenger hunts (even I was surprised at what came out of my purse) and toilet-paper dressmaking, this group of strangers was soon laughing like a gathering of sisters. One of the sweetest sights I’ve ever seen was a woman in her seventies, dolled up in tissue paper and masking tape. Instead of turning up her nose at the situation or soldiering through it disapprovingly, she pulled out a pair of sunglasses and slipped them on with sass to complete the look. Because winning a dress-up contest is a serious achievement, to be embraced with glamor and pizzazz.

I guess last Saturday was one of those events where I went expecting to give, but unexpectedly received. I learned from the teaching and the singing. But more significantly, I was dazzled by the beauty of the women God has made. As they carried crock-pots and stacked chairs, cracked jokes and sang snatches of Disney songs, sorted the junk that came out of each other’s purses and twirled girlishly around in plastic tiaras, their spirit–their faith–our new-forged friendship–took my breath away.

What have you learned about beauty lately? About friendship? 

On This Day…

~ Alina ~ 3 Comments

Ever look at your calendar and remember what you were doing on this day, one or two or three years ago?

Three years ago (well, April 25), I found myself in church. In western Ireland.

With only about 10 regular attendees, there were more people buried in the churchyard than alive inside the service. It was rather quiet. 

Aftewards, some friends and I went horseback riding! I hadn’t been on a horse since I was eight years old (when veterinarian topped my list of career choices).

This horse was named Rua (Gaelic for “red”). As we neared the hilltop, she bolted. Bouncing around, as in control as a sack of flour, I clutched the English saddle, watching my life flash before my eyes…and arrived at this incredible vista of clear sea and sky (with the Blasket Islands visible across the bay).

Having survived our adventure, we limped off, saddle-sore, to reward ourselves with…

…the world’s most amazing chocolate cake! Murphy’s is an Irish ice cream/sweets shop that makes absolutely the best chocolate cake in the world. If you’re ever in Ireland, find some. It’s an especially good way to forget about being saddle-sore. 
I still miss Ireland some days. Especially when I think about what I was doing on this day two years ago: editing my senior project in college. 
With scissors. Helps rustle up the necessary ruthlessness. No better way to visualize transposals or deletions. I also think I killed an entire rainforest’s worth of post-it notes. But I graduated!
One year ago, I was…

…at my desk, finishing the second draft of my novel. I’m now partway through the fourth draft, which (I hope) will be the last. Maybe this novel will see the light of day before I start getting a senior discount on my office supplies. 
And today, I am here, typing up this blog post:
Freelance life may not often take me across the world on exciting adventures. I don’t often find myself bolting up hills on a runaway horse or violently editing a story with scissors. It’s not every day I get to celebrate the accomplishment of a completed novel draft. But my imagination doesn’t starve. And that is a blessing.
What do you see when you look back at this day in past years?

Running

~ Alina ~ 1 Comment

I don’t love running. Really, exercise in general doesn’t thrill me, with the exceptions of hiking and ballroom dancing.

Image courtesy of stock.xchng and sundesigns

But I do it, at least sometimes, because I know it’s good for me.

And ironically, it’s taught me some things about life.

Pace 

Image courtesy of stock.xchng and iwanbeijes

You run differently for a 100-meter dash than you do for a 2-mile loop. A 26-mile marathon is a different skill entirely. You have to know in advance how far you’re planning to go, then pace yourself accordingly. At the Olympics, the long-distance “run-walk” stride may look slow, but you know those runners are going to last til the end. Some efforts in life are short-term and you give your utmost for a few hours, days, or weeks, knowing you can then flop down, exhausted. But if you’re going to last and continue having resources to give over the long-term, sometimes that means curbing your pace, conserving your energy.

Rest

Image courtesy of stock.xchng and wordvt

When I first started my running route through my neighborhood, I made it my goal to jog to the top of the hill without stopping. I made it, but then I stood at the top, bent over and gasping for breath, for at least five minutes. My lungs burned, my calves burned, and by no means did I want to run anywhere else after that. But a few weeks ago, as I started getting tired and sore halfway up the hill, I…stopped. Realized I didn’t have to achieve high marks on my imaginary goal. I listened to my pain, stopped to catch my breath, then ran on to the top feeling good and ready to continue (like pacing, rest is an element of long-term survival ). I realized that I didn’t have to wait until I was completely exhausted and feeling horrible to take a long rest. I could take a short one when I just felt tired. And then I could continue on with energy and a good attitude.

Thanks

Image courtesy of stock.xchng and MeiTeng

When running, there are two possible things to think about: the pain, or everything else. I can focus my mind on my screaming calves and how hard my heart is hammering, or I can enjoy the blue sky and the quiet places my routes take me. Sometimes even my body’s exertion is a cause for thanksgiving–legs that can move, lungs that can fill with clean air, eyes that can see the beauty around me. The act gives me a rush of adrenaline, helps me find the good even in an activity I don’t love.

Have you learned any life lessons from running? From any form of exercise? 


Wandering Bards

~ Alina ~ 6 Comments

Okay. Before you read any further, stop! And click on this link. 
That’s a recording of my most influential college professor, Dr. Luke Reinsma, reading the Prologue of The Canterbury Tales–in Middle English. 
Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote
The droghte of Marche hath perced to the roote…
That cadence takes me back to cozy firesides in the British Isles, where I was studying abroad three years ago. (Three years! How is that possible?) 
Assigned to read The Canterbury Tales in Middle English for our Medieval Literature class, most of my classmates and I felt overwhelmed. Middle English is similar enough to modern English that it can mostly be understood–but it takes a lot of effort. Medieval non-comprehension set in. Frustration set in. 
And so Dr. Reinsma began hosting semi-weekly reading sessions. His background is in medieval literature, and he reads fluently in Middle English. And so we students would sprawl all over hostel couches, chairs, benches, carpets (sometimes beside an English fireside so quaint it looked like a painting) and listen to The Professor read. 

It’s amazing what reading aloud can do for your appreciation of books. One of my earliest memories of literature is hiding under the couch cushions when my parents got to the part about Black Riders in The Fellowship of the Ring. It was a rite of passage when I got to take a turn in intoning the passages of Little House on the Prairie. And even in college, as an adult living in another country for three months, having The Professor read aloud took me back to that childhood place. 
A human voice reading does not just transmit information–it conveys experience, wisdom, and a passion for life. We learn from being read to, but it’s much more than an academic exercise. The vocal rhythms whisk us back to a time when wandering bards passed down ancient traditions–history, legend, theology–through oral song and story. 
To read aloud from a book proclaims your investment, both in the book and in the person being read to. Now that I am an adult, reading aloud to my students is one of my favorite parts of our lessons–getting to use my voice and presence to bring alive the literature I believe in. It’s a manifestation of care through quality time, combined with the wisdom and learning contained in the book itself. 
Though The Canterbury Tales may never be my favorite work of literature, listening to the recording of it today brought tears to my eyes. Much more than a homework assignment, reading aloud became a memory. 
Do you ever read aloud? Have any special memories of someone reading to you?