Sunday Culture and a little weirdness

Ah…Kansas City-you have done it again. You successfully avoided being named both “Possum Trot” and “Rabbitville”, progressed past just being a cow town and into a cultural mecca. However, I can still wear cowboy boots and not be judged (hint, hint New York).

I cannot deny my love for you.

I shucked my heels and wore sensible flats this time, knowing I would be at the Nelson-Atkins Museum forever. My first stop-this lovely Eames chair. Can a chair be more pure, more beautiful, more simple? Sure, you could have some fancy throne covered in lambs wool and overstuffed to the gills. And you may argue that it is indeed more comfortable. And, you might be right.

But, I would still choose this chair every time.

Turning the corner, I ran smack dab into this Jackson Pollock painting. Be still my coffee-beating heart. I have loved this artist since my first encounter with his work and have not lost my affection yet.

I see a wolf and a lady. What do you see?

This painting had my attention for a solid 15 minutes. The vibrant colors were gorgeous and the darkening sky was beautifully ominous. Some amazingly talented human, with only a brush and some oil paint created this on a white canvas.

I’m happy if I can draw a straight line.

This Subodh Gupta Egg was made exclusively of silver utensils and objects-and signifies the new India.

For some unknown reason, I was drawn to it. I’m a girl. I like shiny things.

I call this one, “Fancy Peas”. It was untitled, so I took liberties with it. Hope that’s alright with Mr. Alexander Ross. (Mr. Ross, maybe you should name your pieces and morons like me wouldn’t take liberties.)

This, of course, reminded me of a cat-a Native American cat. Possibly of the KittenMeow tribe.
(Brad Kahlhamer: Bowery Nation)

I saved the best for last. This installation-“Chromoplastic Mural” by Luis Tomasello (who was 96 at the time) was bold and unique, and the perfect resting spot for my little feet.

The floor is an acceptable place to hang out in a museum, right?

The Sunflower State is Friggin’ Awesome

Dear Readers:

Did you know that I’m from Kansas? I mean, technically I’m from Landstuhl, Germany. But, do the first three years of your life really count?
And did you know that I’m in Kansas right now? Be still my beating heart.

Kansas is where I claim to have grown up. My childhood consisted of sunflower fields, cows, tornadoes, coyotes (pronounced ki-yoat) and snakes. And all that was found just in my backyard.

Due to my extreme nostalgia, it’s no small wonder that sunflowers are my favorite flowers-second only to daffodils. I would drag these ginormous yellow and brown beauties into the house, sending my extremely allergic brother to the brink of insanity. Sorry, Pat. I thought you were just being a wuss and trying to get out of work. We didn’t know about allergies back then.

Heck, I didn’t even know about salad dressing back then.

The only thing better than being in Kansas, is being in my hometown of Manhattan, Kansas at Vista. And eating french fries with my parents while the Beatles play on the jukebox. (But, that’s a whole other side story.)

However, I’m not in Manhattan-I’m in Kansas City, which is the fancy part of Kansas. Unlike Manhattan, Kansas City has museums, real shopping, “districts”, and a major league baseball team. As a little kid, I was always intimidated by Kansas City and thought the kids here were cooler than I was.

I bet they even knew about salad dressing.

I joined Biceps on a overnight work gig, so while he is hard at work, I’m going to go see things like this at the Nelson-Atkins Museum.

And things like this. All. By. Myself. I won’t have to hurry up when I want to stay, or linger when I want to move on.

Let’s review the facts about today:
I’m in Kansas
I’m going to a museum-alone!
Biceps is simultaneously making us money
My meals are paid for

The verdict is: Kansas is friggin’ awesome.

Au Naturale and Old School

Come on a journey with me. (*Caution: Unusually heavily photographed Rebekah post.)

Let’s walk down the road together-celebrating the times before we were constantly connected, a time where we look at each other while at the dinner table instead of at our phones.

Pack a backpack, grab a film camera, a paper map and wear your favorite comfy pants-we’re about to get au naturale and go on an old school adventure together.

No makeup is required-even during extreme close-ups (thank you, Biceps) and you have permission to wear the same clothes for a month.

You can’t take your computer with you because laptops aren’t affordable yet and your camera never shows you what it is you’re taking a picture of. You just have to hope for the best and be surprised when you develop the prints and hold them in your hands.

You have to rely on either your paper maps or asking the natives for directions-who might invite you in for a cup of coffee, fresh bread and a conversation in broken English.

You might regret your hairdo and pant choice, but you can just always throw the prints away. And nothing has been posted on the internet or on instagram.

You can pretend it never happened.

And locked away in your brain are lovely conversations, incredibly unique meals, and experiences completely void of anything dinging, chiming or buzzing at you. Ah…what a great au naturale and old school adventure we just had together.

Now, slowly come back to your connected reality of computers, iPhones and digital cameras. We’ll do another old school adventure soon-but until then-we’ve got our memories.

My Hippie Parents Surprise Me Again

My upbringing was pretty unorthodox compared to today’s standards. I would have rather spent time at home, with my brothers and parents than anywhere else.

My parent’s had no health insurance, no credit cards, occasionally a t.v. set, one car (with a one car garage), and all our dinners were made from scratch-which we had together every night.

On top of that, my dad left a “stable” career being active duty military to pursue what God had asked him to pursue. My dad is not a fan of change-so this was not a flippant decision. Let’s just say the man duct-taped his flip flops when the broke, because the new ones probably were “too different”.

So, for several years, they left every weekend to preach and sing at tiny churches all over the midwest. They barely made anything, but they made enough.

Eventually, my little brother and I joined them-Daniel was on the juice harp and piano, while I sang duets with dad or the occasional solo when I could muster up the courage.

No matter what back road we were on, there was always time to pick sunflowers and explore barns.

While in college, my parents moved to El Paso for a few years to teach at a christian school just north of the border and then on to St. Louis to be with my Grandma (my dad’s dad).

And that’s where I thought they would land-forever. The had put down roots for almost 15 years, teaching at another christian school, opening a business and remodeling Grandma’s house.

But when you seek God as my parents do, you never know where He’s going to take you.

In two weeks, they are moving to Mississippi (which is awesome because I love to type all those “s’s”) to live and work here-The Baddour Center.

It’s a Non-Profit center that offers those with intellectual disabilities a safe place to live and work. It’s a cool program: they play intramural sports together, perform dramas, offer continuing education and music programs and even have a beautiful garden center.

(Photo Source: Baddour’s Website)
My dad has taken the job of Choral Director for the Center’s choir called, “The Miracles”. The group’s goal is “to glorify God, demonstrate the abilities of persons with intellectual disabilities, and tell the story of The Baddour Center.”

This job is going to fit my dad like a glove. He gets to put to good use his music and touring skills, taking the group to 90 different concerts throughout the year.

Just when I think I’ve got their future all figured out for them, God shakes things up and moves my hippie parents to another state.

Throughout all these changes in their lives, one thing has been certain. Their hearts seek after God-over comfort and familiarity. And they will go where He leads-no matter what.

What more could a girl ask for?