for poor

So I went to church the other day... that wouldn't surprise some people, but I guess some people would be surprised. I have nothing against church. I used to enjoy it. I loved getting caught up in meeting people and trying to wow them with your Sunday best. There were pizza nights and youth group and there was this general lovey-dovey-warm-fuzzy-kind-of-feeling when you walked in. People are supposed to like you when you walk in. (whether or not it happens is a different story!) You are supposed to learn deep mysteries about the world here and beyond. Your brain and heart are supposed to be challenged as you meet with other serious spiritual seekers!



But its been a long time since I have been. And the reason I went the other day was for work.



So I have been thinking about the whole church thing. I was blown away with the beauty of this particular church and just all that it has to offer in terms of atmosphere and awe. I was dwarfed by its high arching ceilings and stained glass windows. There were candles in there that were bigger than I am! Everything in there is carefully crafted with a purpose and with beauty. I know that God doesn't literally live in the church, but us humans have built a pretty nice cage for Him (Her/They... i will go with Him simply because that is what I am used to. God is beyond gender and what kind of genatalia He posesses is really irrelevant.) So anyways... I went to church... I always get so sidetracked on weird tangents! I was listening to the Father deliver a message and I watched the eyes of a lot of people light up. Even though it was just for a wedding people were in there looking for answers and looking for something more. It made me miss where I have been. I like looking for answers and my eyes will light up with every opportunity I get, but church is not the place where I want to do that anymore.

I want to experience God and truth and love outsides the sterile confines of the sanctuary. I want to interact, experience, try, fail, and live out this faith, this hope, this spirituality... whatever you want to call it! There is dangerous safety and safe danger out there and I want to live it!

I have no issue about doing that with a church. There have been churches, pastors, and even christians that have inspired me to seek out the best for myself and others. It can be done! I long to go to a building, a sanctum, that lives the life that they advertise and can positively influence me to do the same outside the confines of its walls.

So all this to say that I went to this church to "work." I stood in awe and the beauty of a building that I hope was inspired by the awe, majesty, and beauty of the Creator (there! no gender identification!). I was inspired to quietly contemplate beauty. I was pushed to be still and silent and take in the grandeur that surrounded me. I was challenged to rethink the way that I interacted with things greater than me and why I wasn't doing this more often.

There was also a little metal box that read "FOR POOR thank you." There is a deeper message in there somewhere and I can't wait to find it.

...and a big-titted blonde

My dad told me a joke the other night that I found funny. That sentence alone is worth blogging about because his jokes are severely lacking in the HA HA category. He gets dozens of them sent to him by various friends through the wonder of the internet. Without these jokes the only emails he would be getting would be how to grow his penis a few more inches and how a prominent diplomat in Nigeria wants to share his money with you as long as you send him money first! The interesting thing is that my dad's memory is going. Its definitely not a funny situation, but the fact that he remembers a siginificant number of jokes to relay to myself and the rest of the family is astounding. He should work in a comedy club... but anways, here is the joke:

George Bush and Dick Cheney are sitting in a bar in Texas having a couple of drinks and talking. Another customer happens to notice and walks over and asks, "Excuse me sirs, but are yo... are you... ?" George Bush nods at the man and informs him that they are the Heads of State. The man, still flustered, says,"its such an honor to be drinking with you in the same bar! If you don't mind and its not too personal, what are you guys talking about?" The president replies, "We are just planning world war III." The man is obviously shocked and asks, "World War III? Wow! Whats going to happen?" George Bush looks at the man and says, "Its going to be a glorious fight. 14 million Muslims and one blonde with big tits will die as the United States of America wins the war in the name of oil... i mean democracy." The man is amazed at the nation's most important secrets but then with a puzzled look asks the president, "I don't get it... what's with the blonde with the big tits?" And with that President Bush exclaims, "I told ya Dick! No one is going to care about 14 million muslims!"

(Just as a disclaimer... I am sure this conversation never actually happened and I am sure that the president would not be sitting in some hole and discussing matters of national security so flippantly. Also I have no issue whatsoever with Muslims and I am not a supporter to the conflict/war. So... this is just to say that I am not insensitive. There is a point to my madness! Oh yeah, and I have nothing against blondes with big tits either! Ha!)

So that joke really isn't that funny, but it did make me think. How often have I missed the point because of the bright and shinny objects with the pretty colors. How often have I gone done the wrong path because it felt like the right way to go even though I was going off in the completely wrong direction. I realize that it is fairly easy to play with someone's minds and perceptions. You can be a spin doctor on anything and make it sound plausible, credible, and even amazing!!!

Moral of the story... be wary of big-titted blondes, love Muslims, and be cautious with diplomatic who share top secrets with you. Thats the way I live my life!

stories in people watching

thinking, originally uploaded by impactmatt.

Sometimes I catch people just hanging or just chilling out. I don't catch them like they are falling out of the sky, but I notice them even though there is nothing all that notice-able about them. So I guess they catch me off guard. They live in a separate world but yet they share a little bit of mine. We share the space we are presently in, but their story is different. They have a different group of friends. Their experiences are unique to mine. But eventually if we dig deep enough we will realize that we have common interests, stories, and friends (or friends of friends). We have read the same books and watched the same movies. We order the same thing at restaurants and have walked the same streets.

Look at me getting all deep!

Basically what I am saying is that people watching is fun and I do it from time to time and when I get really bored, I invent stories about the people I see and play out their lives in my head! So take this guy above:

"Why did I wear this jean jacket? Its so retro. I can't pull of this look! I might as well grab my hypercolor t-shirt and my Vuarnet sunglasses and put on my L.A. Gear shoes. I am too old for this shit. I have more gray hair than a black and white movie. No wonder I am sitting here all alone. I should be sitting here with the love of my life. We should be planning our vacation to visit the grandkids and what we are going to do with the money I won from that Centrum Silver contest. Instead of planning my golden years, I am sitting here in my jean jacket. That Kevorkian guy has a good idea. Maybe I'll trade my jacket for "an early check-out."

or perhaps,

"Why is this guy taking a picture of me... OK, ok... be cool man... just be cool. Its just a coincidence. He doesn't know what I did... there is no way they could have found the body yet. I buried it so, so deep! Damn! He is still looking at me with that camera! Something is not right here... Ok pretend he's not there. Look innocent... no one knows anything. All right, if I need to run I am going to have to make a break for it soon and then if he follows me... well, I will just have to be sure that I bury him deeper than I did the first guy."

Man... i need a lot of help...

i am a poulet serial killer!

egg, originally uploaded by impactmatt.

The only eggs that I used to eat were scrambled or omelette style. Everything else made me sick. Though it looks pretty and is very iconic, the traditional yellow and white of an egg did not work with my tastebuds. I could stand boiled eggs until I threw up at a restaurant when I was six and it smelt like eggs and grape juice. The appreciation of grape juice came back... not the rank vomitey smell of boiled eggs... breakfast anyone?

But a couple of months ago I started making eggs over-easy and that I could handle. But then I was wracked with immense guilt! My wife and I just had a baby and thats all I could think of one day when I cracked open an egg. Thats a little baby chick that will never come into existence because I like breakfast foods at anytime of the day! I am taking a little chicken fetus and cooking it up like the diabolical beast that I am! I was there when my wife gave birth and I had the honor of catching him. I was the first person to hold him on this planet and I can't imagine something more special. I saw the placenta pop out a little later... and even eggs have a little placenta-like thing attached to it!!! (you can even see it in the picture!) So I am haunted. What if some huge cosmic being decided to crack my mom open and slowly pour me out into a universal frying pan! Or whisking me until all my guts and innards are one nice frothy mixture.

So yeah... i felt guilty for a while. But I make these really good breakfast sandwiches with three over-easy eggs! They are really good... but thats what I think about everytime I crack open an egg.

the flight of the fenix

He is here!

Finally! 40 weeks and 3 days after the chosen spermy penetrated the sanctity of the egg, we have Fenix Mateo Jarry!

He is here!

He burps, poos, pees, sleeps, eats, cries, and makes funny faces and I enjoy it and find it fascinating!!! The world is a different place now that my little man is a part of it. I feel more like a protector and a provider. I am a watcher and a warrior. I am more of a lover and a leader. When all is said and done, without his mom and I... lets just say that he needs us big time.

So I want to chat a little bit about the birth of this little guy. As you may know that the traditionally the birth of the phoenix is from the flames and the whole process takes three days. I can see a lot of parallels for my own little Fenix. We were in the hospital for three long days and his arrival probably could only have been more shocking than if he leapt from the flames! (slight exaggeration but it goes well with the story)

My wife went through a lot of pain. Her labor pains started days before we even got to the hospital. For three days leading up to our departure to the hospital, she could barely walk and was left fairly incapacitated. Once we were in the hospital there were all kinds of precautions that needed to be taken. Claudia had tubes running in and out of her. Literally! I mean literally, literally! She had so much clear tubing running out of her she looked as though she was trapped in Spiderman's web. Then when it came to the actualy labor she was pushing for over three and a half hours! She put Lance Armstrong to shame with that show of endurance. Our baby did not want to come out!

But there was that magical moment when we did. When his head popped out and the doctor turned and asked:

"Would dad like to deliver this baby?"

You have to understand that I never hold babies. They are too fragile and precious and a huge responsibility. You want to hold them, but you worry about dropping them. So now the doctor is actually asking me to catch this metaphorical crystal vase that is covered in slimy goo-ness to complicate things even further. So the guy that never holds babies is now stepping up to the plate. I am also not real good at dealing with other people's physical pains. When my wife was getting the epidural put in, I had to sit down (yeah, I was a wuss!). So now I am between her legs (a great place for all husbands to be and how we got into this situation in the first place) and the first person he sees and feels is me. I am not wearing any kind of apron or gloves, so I am covered in life giving slime. I felt like Bill Murray in Ghostbusters 1 when he first meets Slimer.

But I grabbed him, gave him to my wife, and burst into tears. The best present my wife or I ever got.

six days and counting!

preparing.for.fenix, originally uploaded by impactmatt.

Ok, yet another post about babies and my journey to becoming a daddy!

So, for mother's day I took my lovely Claudia to a tattoo parlour to get some body paint done on her belly. I wanted to her know how much I already consider her a mother even though we are technically missing the main component. The work that she has put in to take care of him though she has never met him is very impressive. The food she eats, the places she goes, the company she keeps... all revolve around our little one. I am not joking... you ever hear of slippery elm? Its a native american herbal secret for sore throats, however it also makes your uterus slippery... for those of you who have them. I find this incredibly amusing to think of my little baby shooting through the uteran canal at high speeds. I can imagine him like a little kid (which is what he is... my imagination is in overdrive..) screaming "WHEEEEEEEEEE!" as he plummets head first on the waterslide to life. A little more blood and sticky stuff though... So yeah, she takes very good care of him and is making preparations to make the birth as fun as possible for both her and the baby. Claudia works really hard at taking care of the baby and so I already consider her a mother. Hence, the mother's day trip to the tattoo shop.

She was very excited to have some work done as we look forward to getting something a lot more permanent soon. So we walk in for our appointment and we are greeted by our artist for the day who promptly advises us how hungover he is!!! Huh! So glad we aren't using any needles today! Now, a few days previous our painter had asked for images and sketches so that he would have something to work on and I sent them out promptly. Of course he didn't have them and fortunately I was able to pull them up from the email that I had sent from my inbox. So our hungover guy started working on sketching it out and about an hour later we were ready to go! Its fun sitting and waiting! So he gets to work and he advises us how nervous he is because he has never done any work on a pregnant woman before. He was sweating quite a bit and was freaked out when the baby decided to move and kick the canvas. He also told us stories from the tattoo parlour world. I felt like I was in an episode of "Montreal Ink." One tattoo guy just broke his wrist because he got into a fight with his present girlfriend's exboyfriend, right in front of the shop! Our artist told us about how he had to do some work on a woman's "titties" and how that made him nervous (the manager poked his head around the corner and advised him to use the word "chest" instead of titties to maintain a certain level of professionalism... too little, too late!) He also told us the stories of how he used to run in a gang in El Salvador and how he got shot and he had to move away to escape from it... I could keep going

But in the end it was a lot of fun and we chatted with him during the whole hour process of getting the artistic creation. It was a unique experience to have her belly tattooed and all these hardcore tattoo guys come by and say how cool it was that we were getting some work done. And then... as we head back down the street to the car this African guy stops us and talks all about pregnancy and motherhood and his experiences as a father and blesses us as we walk on. I love this city!

Anyhow... that is really all I have to say... no deep thoughts or nothing other than I am excited for the next week. I am excited to be a dad. I am excited to go through the whole process and be there for my wife and child. Love to hear from those of you with similar stories and have any advice or tales of your own.

standing room only...

preg.6, originally uploaded by impactmatt.

Ok... i have not posted anything in a while, basically because all my photography has been "work" related. I haven't been able to get out there and just take some shots on my own and enjoy it. Hopefully soon! But I have to get something up, so I am kicking it old school and bringing out a recent shot that I love.

This is my lovely wife just over a month ago and she looks sublime!!! (which is also a preferred music group of hers) To watch her stomach grow and to feel the life inside kicking out for life is the greatest gift I could imagine! I know the baby is aching to get out, but at the same time he is perfectly content in his little warm, safe world. I understand completely!! I feel like I go through that on a daily basis.

I love the comfort, safety, and pampering that I can receive from western society and the lifestyle that our world provides for us. I have my internet/facebook/fastfood umbilical high speed hook up that keeps me satiated and satisfied. And I guess that has some miniscule place in our lives. Because eventually, we leave our little womb and go out into the world. And when this happens we do not go quietly. There is pain, kicking, screaming, pushing, and professionals in white coats to collect us. Our lifeline is cut and we breathe our first gasp of air. (see Neo being taken out of the machine world in Matrix 1) So now we are out there and we are no longer safe and protected... even though we may have parents(some people don't get to meet theirs and I can't imagine how tough that is) to fend for us, we are now using our own immune systems to fight off diseases and viruses, our skin is shielding us from the UV rays, our lungs are trying to filter the air... its on us... and its not as safe.

But thats OK... we weren't made to live in the womb. We were made to live out in the world... out in the wild! Let us embrace it, let us make the most of it. Sure the womb would have been comfortable, but imagine life without your favorite friend, food, song, or memory. We are pampered, babied, and wombed (not a word, but you understand I hope) only for a short while to be able to take on the world and appreciate it!

Maybe thats another reason why people smile when they see that little baby doing baby things. We smile at how small and fragile they are. We ooh and ahh about their wide eyes and flailing limbs as they interact with our world. But I think we are impressed with this little person as they bravely adjust and learn with bright-eyed-eagerness about this beautiful world that they have a lifetime to discover.