When I go through an experience that moves me, I let it sit in my body. Then I do some soul searching, trying to articulate to myself what about the experience makes my body vibrate, giving me that "ping" you feel when the outside world resonates in some way, good or bad, with my insides. It's usually something deep - some lesson or insight. By the time I'm ready to talk about it on Facebook, the experience is distilled to something that is at the core of who I am.
2014 was a big year - I did not know this, till I was able to look back.
Thanks for following along. If you want to see the comments, feel free to check https://www.facebook.com/ruthshiromafoster. The responses were half the fun!
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Sushi Chef
The sushi chef tonight lit up when we told him we're musicians. We had a nice conversation about music, and he beamed talking about the music he loves, including Bill Evans, Miles Davis, Carmen McRae and Chick Corea. It dawned on me that this happens a lot - music opens doors.
January 11, 2014
How to Make Mochi
(This entry became a separate post here.)
January 27, 2014
Who You Really Are
Lately, I've been watching people I admire - I mean, really watching them, so I don't just listen to them, and I don't just look at them, but I try to feel what it might be like to be them. And as much as I respect them for their technique and skill - their intonation, perfect pacing, the grace in their movement - that is not what inspires me, and I've known this for a long time. But only through this exercise have I been able to finally grasp why some people move me: It's their power of being. It's a live energy, a strong will, a current inside their body that is so deep and so real. They are strong from their heart, their gut, or, as they say in Hawaiian, their na`au. It's a kernel of power that over time they have managed to grow into something that, when you encounter it, takes your breath away. It's not what they do - it's who they are. You are simply experiencing who they are through what they are doing. ... I've come to understand that even though the world may venerate you for the contribution you've made to a specific field, for the role you've played, you should not allow your identity to be wrapped up in what you do; the real imprint lies in the power of your being, in who you are.
March 21, 2014
When We Fight
Sometimes in our fight over ideas, we lose sight of the humanity of the other person we don't agree with. This feels frivolous.
March 26, 2014
Sunset Serenade
At Jameson's By The Sea, the waitress noticed my uke case and asked me to sing a song, so I serenaded the dinner crowd with Wahine Ilikea as the sun set. And luckily, I just got my business cards in the mail yesterday and was able to give her one when she asked for it. Love how this little instrument has brought such charming moments to my life.
March 30, 2014
Creativity Question
I have a creativity question, and I'd love for you to indulge me. What are the forces or circumstances that move you to act, to set yourself in motion to create? Or perhaps not just create, but simply progress? Like with exercise? Or with cooking? Or with any project?
Here's some background for why I ask: I made a pot of soup today, a soup I fully "designed" it in my head before I chopped the first onion. So, I started cutting the vegetables, and every act that followed was simply a materialization of this picture I had in my head. I powered through like a demon trying to "write" out this idea in my head. Norm noticed this and articulated he has a different style, that he just starts taking ingredients out of the fridge and "designs" as he goes; it's very in the moment, not unlike jazz improvisation. I find both styles interesting, and I'm sure there are many styles. I've known this about myself for some time, but seeing this small kitchen scene unfold and recognizing what drove me to complete a pot of soup was revealing for many, many other aspects of my life.
Goodness - that was long-winded! But if anyone's up for sharing insights on their own style for "doing things," I'm all ears. This is so interesting to me.
May 1, 2014
The Medium is the Message?
Too many people say "texting doesn't convey tone," but I've received many a text with a kind tone to it, and they weren't always from wordsmiths. We've been at this - email, texting, social media - for much too long for people to blame the medium. It's time we take a bit more responsibility. I think thoughtfulness finds its way to the other person, if the intent is there in the first place.
May 30, 2014
The Long, Long Story
I am here today because of the fearlessness of my parents and their stories, and the stories that came before them, branching through lineages going back thousands of years. I am the culmination of this fearlessness. I am the culmination of millions of stories.
June 14, 2014
Quirky Norm
After observing Norm's near-surgical consumption of his Hamachi Kama tonight, I tell him, "you're a good eater of kama," to which he replies, "it's because I'm kama`aina."
August 11, 2014
My Futon
A futon is where you rest. It is where you lie down, limbs limp, thoughts adrift. It is where, after the world has allowed you to be sifted out from its arbitrary rules of meaning, you fall in comfort, feeling the quietness of your perfect being. Tonight, music was my futon.
August 20, 2014
Expanding Cells
I played lots of piano and uke and sang my guts out all weekend, and I made progress on a film project. I should be tired, but I feel so awake, as if the insides of my body - every cell - is expanding. This has been good for me in ways I'd never have been able to see.
September 21, 2014
Intelligence
I am becoming more and more fascinated by "intelligences" that are sensory. If you can provide any insight, please send me things to watch or read. I recently went to a workshop where the trainer was from Waianae (btw - I am proud to say this is my hometown) and explained how Hawaiians are naturally aural learners, and he expanded by saying they take in their world by seeing and feeling and hearing. I've always been drawn to this kind of intelligence, and growing up in Waianae, I loved how people just knew how do to things, like throw luau with great efficiency or make friends with complete ease at the beach or get intel from others through rather deft conversation. These days, the closest words I might have for this is being street smart or having situational awareness, but I know it goes deeper than this. I think cultures institutionalize these things, whether the learning is linear or aural, as described by the trainer. I don't want to put one over the other, but I will ask the question - how many of these qualities have I suppressed trying to operate in the dominant culture that prizes specialization and a certain kind of productivity? I am not looking for any hard answers, but just want to open up a discussion. ... And of course, I want that reading material. Hmmmm .... wonder if Dr. Suzuki's Nurtured by Love covers this to an extent ... I just started reading this.
October 9, 2014
Where Truth is Found
The truth - what actually was, is and will be, and not what we as a human race constructed or believe to be truth - is embedded in the smallest structures of our existence, reaching back to the beginning of time. This is one of many thoughts I will be exploring over the next few months. Since this summer, I have been working on articulating my "framework of everything," and it's beginning to get quite interesting. Will take some time, but stay tuned.
October 29, 2014
Floating Through Our Apartment
(This entry became a separate post here.)
October 30, 2014
Cherish the Love
If you find someone, anyone - friend or lover, who cherishes your feelings, never take that person for granted. Life affords you only a few of them; they are treasures.
November 4, 2014
Tears
This is what I've come to believe: When something is so beautiful it brings you to tears, it's because that very beauty was somewhere hidden deep, deep inside of you, lost. You live your days with a heart stirring, yearning to find this lost thing, and only when encountering it in your world can this hidden beauty that was always a part of you be found, finally known. Who wouldn't cry?
November 13, 2014
Listen Closely
It's hard to know the intricacies that make someone awkward or unable to navigate social situations. But sometimes, these are the very people with the most interesting things to say because they simply see their world differently. They often are the quiet ones who are perfectly content when others have the floor. But try giving them your ear. Ask them questions and be genuinely curious. You might find yourself delighted to be told stories and ideas that shake your thinking.
November 25, 2014
Measure of Judgment
The measure by which you judge will be the measure by which you will be judged. This has no meaning till you, at some point, slip up. If you live a life of grace, you will be afforded grace when you fall. If you live a life of judgment, you will be judged when you fall. I learned this lesson the hard way. These days, I strive to be more like those I admire most - those whose hearts are a large well, filled with grace.
November 30, 2014
Euphoria
It's 1:30 in the morning, and I'm high on all the things that happened tonight. How can anyone fall asleep when your body is filled with good vibrations? You just have to let your body experience the waves till they dissipate, slowly lulling you to sleep.
December 3, 2014
Unlikely Songs at a Downtown Bar
Last night, a group of people sat at the bar at The Dragon Upstairs, and one of the guys pointed at the other and told me, "he sings." After a little discussion, we got him on stage, and he asked me to play Unchained Melody. He said he didn't need the microphone, then I began a simple intro on the piano. Two notes in, and we were surrounded by this beautiful, lush voice. It was an honor to play the large landscape of this song with this stranger who knew every part of it so well. I wasn't joking when he was finished and I asked him, "Did you win Brown Bags to Stardom?" He laughed and said no. Then he did his hana hou from his barstool, an Italian aria sung a cappella. Still smiling the next morning over this musical exchange at a downtown bar.
December 10, 2014
Lunch Conversations
One interesting thing about eating alone in public places is you get to hear how other people relate to each other. Sometimes, I think people overlook the treasures right in front of them. They are not curious, so they don't ask questions of each other, let alone empathize. I know there is more to human interaction than conversation; sometimes, just sitting quietly with someone can heal you. But everyone who has lived long enough to speak has an interesting story inside of them. What wonders are we missing out on when we fail to be curious about the people we think we know?
December 18, 2014
The State of Truth
Truth does not require belief or non-belief. Truth is simply a state. Some can see it sooner than others, and some never see.
December 21, 2014
Building Blocks
What if the very building blocks that form how we think and see are in themselves constricting our sight? Perhaps to truly see, we need to disassemble the structures and throw the blocks away.
December 27, 2014
Beauty Unseen
Last night, four local girls stopped in and sat in the cozy far corner, listening to every song. From their seats, they sang along to Wahine `Ilikea and Kuhio Beach (I'd later find out three of them were Kamehameha School graduates!). After I was done with those two tunes, one of them requested The Nearness of You. I put my uke down and turned to the piano to sing. When I was done, she walked onto the stage and gave me a hug, tears in her eyes. "This song always reminds me of my father," she said. Naomi told me this morning what I missed seeing, as my eyes had been closed throughout the song. This beautiful woman in street clothes, warmed by her white cardigan, shared hula just a few feet away. I can only imagine.
December 31, 2014
Monday, December 29, 2014
Monday, December 1, 2014
The House You Go to After You Die
Last night I dreamed that I died.
I dreamed that all people who die gather at a house located in a place very similar to Makawao, Maui. The house was reminiscent of the homes I saw on Maui growing up, with wall paneling that emulated high-quality wood and with carpeting that was grey-yellow and flat. The house was humble, a three-bedroom single-story home. The backyard was small - a green lawn the surface area of a single carport. Looking beyond the lawn, I saw trees - not pine trees, but mango trees. The sky was overcast. Looking toward the trees, there were shadows and darkness - not an evil, ominous darkness, just darkness caused by the trees being so thickly planted next to each other that they made shadows on the dirt.
I didn't recognize most people in the house. I only recognized a high school friend and the boyfriend she was seeing during her high school years. They died when I died, so they were about in their forties when they came through the front door. The feeling in this home was one of being at a casual gathering. People were just sort of hanging out.
Some people believe that when you go to "heaven," your body reverts to its most ideal physical shape it was in or would have been in, so, for example, the healthy 20-year-old version of yourself. But what I learned was that the physical shape you were in at the point of death is the shape you ended up having in your afterlife.
What was nice was that I could talk to the living, including Norm, who explained to me how I died, that it was because of some careless action I'd taken. He explained this to me in his typically diplomatic, careful and kind way. He told me, "Just don't do it again." There was no sadness because the communication between us had not really changed.
I was also able to zoom into the life of those who were still living. I zoomed into an office that my brother Mark had been working at, now years after I'd died - a skyscraper somewhere. He had gotten promoted several times and had become an important executive. I was able, then, to zoom out, and I was suspended in the sky. I saw the building he'd been working in, perhaps a 40-story building with pinkish-gold mirrored windows. It was glorious. Seeing Mark's success warmed my heart. I felt so little separation from life and afterlife. I was in a state of euphoria, feeling the breeze across my body as I floated so high above the city.
Throughout the night, I woke up several times, and each time I had fallen back to sleep, I yearned to return to this house - and each time I did return. If there was one vibe that permeated the house, it was the sense that everyone there had ended a past life, leaving it irretrievably behind them. No one was required to do or be anything anymore. The feeling was sobering and refreshing at the same time.
I dreamed that all people who die gather at a house located in a place very similar to Makawao, Maui. The house was reminiscent of the homes I saw on Maui growing up, with wall paneling that emulated high-quality wood and with carpeting that was grey-yellow and flat. The house was humble, a three-bedroom single-story home. The backyard was small - a green lawn the surface area of a single carport. Looking beyond the lawn, I saw trees - not pine trees, but mango trees. The sky was overcast. Looking toward the trees, there were shadows and darkness - not an evil, ominous darkness, just darkness caused by the trees being so thickly planted next to each other that they made shadows on the dirt.
I didn't recognize most people in the house. I only recognized a high school friend and the boyfriend she was seeing during her high school years. They died when I died, so they were about in their forties when they came through the front door. The feeling in this home was one of being at a casual gathering. People were just sort of hanging out.
Some people believe that when you go to "heaven," your body reverts to its most ideal physical shape it was in or would have been in, so, for example, the healthy 20-year-old version of yourself. But what I learned was that the physical shape you were in at the point of death is the shape you ended up having in your afterlife.
What was nice was that I could talk to the living, including Norm, who explained to me how I died, that it was because of some careless action I'd taken. He explained this to me in his typically diplomatic, careful and kind way. He told me, "Just don't do it again." There was no sadness because the communication between us had not really changed.
I was also able to zoom into the life of those who were still living. I zoomed into an office that my brother Mark had been working at, now years after I'd died - a skyscraper somewhere. He had gotten promoted several times and had become an important executive. I was able, then, to zoom out, and I was suspended in the sky. I saw the building he'd been working in, perhaps a 40-story building with pinkish-gold mirrored windows. It was glorious. Seeing Mark's success warmed my heart. I felt so little separation from life and afterlife. I was in a state of euphoria, feeling the breeze across my body as I floated so high above the city.
Throughout the night, I woke up several times, and each time I had fallen back to sleep, I yearned to return to this house - and each time I did return. If there was one vibe that permeated the house, it was the sense that everyone there had ended a past life, leaving it irretrievably behind them. No one was required to do or be anything anymore. The feeling was sobering and refreshing at the same time.
Thursday, November 13, 2014
Beauty, Lost & Found
This is what I've come to believe: When something is so beautiful it brings you to tears, it's because that very beauty was somewhere hidden deep, deep inside of you, lost. You live your days with a heart stirring, yearning to find this lost thing, and only when encountering it in your world can this hidden beauty that was always a part of you be found, finally known. Who wouldn't cry?
Monday, November 3, 2014
Leaving Your Faith and Self-Loathing
Recently, a friend posted this article on Facebook, and the content of it really hit me:
The sad, twisted truth about conservative Christianity’s effect on the mind
I can relate to this at a visceral level, and though it's harsh in its accusations, I'm certain this brings some soothing comfort to those who've experienced what's described in the article. I do think that when we all finally heal, and when I say "we," I mean our society as a whole, not just former believers, we have to find a way to acknowledge and dare I say love what Christianity has brought us from a cultural standpoint. Even for those who've left the faith, it's so much part of our psyche that it is who we are, to some more deeply than others. Still for all, as a culture that has lived enmeshed in this institution of thinking for centuries, it's part of our evolutionary past. It's like embracing the family member who hurt you, perhaps unintentionally, but who also made you who you are in the end. To stop at the anger stage would mean that we are doing just as this article describes, which is to engage in self-loathing.
The sad, twisted truth about conservative Christianity’s effect on the mind
Friday, October 31, 2014
Floating Through Our Apartment
Not long ago, I had an awful day. Norm came home late that afternoon and presented me with a red helium balloon that said in cursive, "I love you." Seeing him in the hallway holding the string was so quaint, so boyish, I gushed realizing that no day could be awful with this person in my life. The balloon had been floating around our apartment for a week when one day I noticed that at the end of the string was something white. When I looked closely, I laughed and smiled. This was so Norm to take a scissors to a paper towel and with his artistic hand cut out a ghost with such an endearing face and a ghoulish presence. I named him "Ghostie." Happy Halloween, everyone! Hope you are treated with moments of friendship and love wherever you may be.
Monday, October 20, 2014
Intoxicating Ravel
Even in its tranquil moments, it's the dissonance and strain of irresolution that make this music intoxicating. To yearn for this kind of beauty is human. Truly moved just thinking about what I heard and felt in the concert hall this past Sunday afternoon.
http://www.honolulupulse.com/2014/10/hso-fabio-bidini/
Hurricane Ana threatened us all weekend, and by Sunday afternoon, Honolulu was covered by dark gray clouds and occasional rain. I've always said that sunshine makes me smile with my eyes but rain makes me smile with my heart. And it is in the rain that I can know the depths of what the music tries to convey.
I am a lucky soul to have sat in the hall, house lights low, as the orchestra and Fabio Bidini performed this work. For my body to sit there and absorb this beauty was almost more than I could take. It's euphoric, your heart aching with a yearning and sadness and sensuality that can only be compared with being in love.
Growing up, I was not exposed to very much classical music, and the little I did know, I resented (this is a separate blog entry entirely, but an important one, nonetheless). This is why I am in awe of my life journey, which placed me in the audience at this concert hall yesterday afternoon. This is colorful, soul-changing music I would have otherwise not known. But these days, I drive my car, and in my head, I hear Ravel; I walk to the office, and in my head, I hear Ravel. I told Norm this afternoon that this second movement sounds like the way that I often feel in real life. How an artist can make this mystery known in the material world is a god-like power, one such power I hope to use while I am alive on this earth.
This is the preview article about the concert written by Star-Advertiser writer Steven Mark:
Hurricane Ana threatened us all weekend, and by Sunday afternoon, Honolulu was covered by dark gray clouds and occasional rain. I've always said that sunshine makes me smile with my eyes but rain makes me smile with my heart. And it is in the rain that I can know the depths of what the music tries to convey.
I am a lucky soul to have sat in the hall, house lights low, as the orchestra and Fabio Bidini performed this work. For my body to sit there and absorb this beauty was almost more than I could take. It's euphoric, your heart aching with a yearning and sadness and sensuality that can only be compared with being in love.
Growing up, I was not exposed to very much classical music, and the little I did know, I resented (this is a separate blog entry entirely, but an important one, nonetheless). This is why I am in awe of my life journey, which placed me in the audience at this concert hall yesterday afternoon. This is colorful, soul-changing music I would have otherwise not known. But these days, I drive my car, and in my head, I hear Ravel; I walk to the office, and in my head, I hear Ravel. I told Norm this afternoon that this second movement sounds like the way that I often feel in real life. How an artist can make this mystery known in the material world is a god-like power, one such power I hope to use while I am alive on this earth.
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Raising My Eyebrows at the Makeup Counter
Last week, I went to the Nordstrom Ala Moana makeup counter to buy an eyeliner brush. I asked the makeup artist to show me how to do a catwings eye look, explaining that I ultimately wanted to do a pinup look, which means neutral eyes, strong eyeliner, big lashes and red lips.
She decided to do my whole face, not just the eyeliner. I was pleasantly surprised because I'd be singing a few hours later at The Dragon Upstairs.
For starters, she got a dark brown pencil and started drawing into my eyebrows. I'm Okinawan, and I didn't think I needed anything added to my eyebrows. But, I thought since she was a pro, just go with it. When she was done penciling my eyebrows in, she gave me the handmirror. Wow, my new eyebrows were dark and well-defined as to look rather drawn in, almost forceful. They were so ... severe ... that they almost seemed to throb above my eyes.
She continued doing other parts of my face, but now, as I watched her eyes and facial expressions that revealed her mind full of imagination, just a foot away or closer to mine at times, I started to have all these fantasies about how my whole face would end up looking. Like extreme fantasies. Her fluffy brush on my cheeks went over each side many, many, many times. And she took the eye shadow brush to all parts of my lid from lash to brow to lash to brow. How smokey, oh so smokey, would my eyelids be?
So then I began to prepare myself for not liking the final outcome. I practiced my reaction mentally, silently. I love it, I would say with a smile and a big breath. I didn't want to hurt her feelings, as I am an artist, and I know how you pour your heart into your work. I was practicing in my mind how I'd smile in the mirror and convey utmost and sincere enthusiasm for something I wasn't enthusiastic about. This rehearsing in my head went on for about 4 minutes.
So when this was all over, she gave me the handmirror, and boy was I ready to act out what I'd been practicing in my head. I raised the mirror directly in front of me, and ... wow, I was that pinup model I wanted to be! She ended up doing quite a beautiful job. So, the words came right out of my mouth, "You are so good."
I gave her a real smile and a real affirmation. So glad.
Friday, October 10, 2014
How To Make Mochi
I had a dream in January of this year. Here it is:
I dreamed some ladies at a fancy party were giving condescending looks to my mom and me because of how we were handling our hors d'oeuvres.
I told my mom, "They don't know about our food."
I was holding a partially bitten mochi between my fingers when I walked to a silver tray, picked up a round appetizer I could not identify, then placed my mochi on top of it.
I raised my new creation to one of the rude women and asked, "Do you know what mochi is made of?"
"Well, yes, I do," she insisted. "Brown sugar and eggs."
I stepped toward her. With my feet planted on the kitchen floor, I looked her in the eye.
"No. Mochi is not made with brown sugar and eggs."
Her eyes widened, but she didn't say anything. She wanted me to leave, but I had to make my point: "Mochi ... is not made ... with brown sugar and eggs."
I woke up chuckling. I think I'm making progress.
Gay Children, Their Christian Parents and a Bit of Randomness
I have yet to present the framework by which I look at the the world - how it was, why it is and what's to become of it. When the framework is explained here, I'm sure it will sadden many Christians of whom I love so deeply. At the same time, it might brighten the outlook for others who've lived a path similar to mine. This framework post is in the works, and I keep reading and rewriting, not for the sake of craft (I have an opinion on that, too), but for the sake of making the most impact on anyone who comes to this message, whether they agree or not.
In the meantime, I am posting a few tidbits of personal insight that I've come across today. It may be a bit random.
Gays and Their Christian Parents
Today, there were a couple discussions on Facebook about same-sex marriage, gay children and their Christian parents. Two people I love and respect are on opposite sides of the issue - one, my brother, a conservative pastor who sees himself as a protector of Christ's truth and the other, my progressive Christian theology student friend who still believes in God and the authority of Scripture, but does not see homosexuality as a sin.
Over the years, I've adopted a rather secular humanist outlook (this is always evolving) on the world. I no longer see things through the authority of the Bible, but I feel at a visceral level the struggle on both sides. I used to be that person who would fiercely uphold the "love the sinner but hate the sin" message. It would keep me up at night, and for all the cries for tolerance that I heard, though loving as they might have sounded to me, I felt fiercely protective of what I believed to be the Truth - yes, with a capital "T" - and ultimately this personal savior I loved. But since I have adopted a more naturalistic perspective and removed myself from the emotion that surrounds Biblical content, since I have been able to see the Bible as valuable for its place in humanity's history but not as a guide to govern modern issues, I can view these conversations from a perspective of third-party objectivity - and yet feel the tremendous gravity that both sides feel. I am fascinated that my heart is capable of feeling all these things at once.
So as I read the back-and-forth discussion, one commenter proclaiming that we cannot compromise God's truth, that it is more loving to tell your gay child that his gayness is not holy and the other (my theology friend) bringing up stories of gays being rejected by their parents and churches, my heart started to be filled with a sadness I hadn't felt in years. I recognized how deeply Christian parents love their gay children, loving the best they know how, anyway, and yet I, too, felt rejected personally at such a visceral level. I remember the sadness of "coming out" to my family, not about being gay (I am not), but about my non-belief in God or any god - how hurtful it was to look in their eyes and see how sad this made them, how they questioned whether there was something wrong with me (I was weak-minded) and ... so many other desperately sad exchanges of emotion. In the face of crushing your own child's self-esteem because of a certain belief about God's holiness, many parents will uphold what they believe to be Truth rather than question the voracity of the actual belief. You can't help this - I know this, and I know this with a kind of sad desperation. So, after much of the back and forth, I contributed to the comments this way:
Living in a World that Values Specialization and Productivity
Recently, I've posted a few Facebook status updates expressing my frustration with people not valuing (or really understanding) your subtleties, your aesthetic contributions to the world - well, not valuing them enough to want to pay for it. I have so much to say on this topic, but much of it has to do with living in a world that is structured for productivity and mass consumption. I am truly saddened when people in the creative community are accused of "not having substance." The less relevant you are to the productivity structure, the more stress you might encounter trying to live in it. Businesses pay for highly specialized skills in specific areas. As for me, I just can't wrap my identity in being a specialist in any one thing in exclusion of the many passions I have - I can't even begin to think this way.
With this in mind, I am sharing a few Facebook posts that speak to this:
Don't get me wrong - I am amazed by the work of these artists. Their voiceover work, knowing the level of my voiceover work, is quite impressive. In the same vein, I am impressed by the designers at Banana Republic and the GAP, as I, too, am a designer of clothes and bags. But everyone is wearing BR and GAP - it is everywhere. Everyone looks the same and thinks that dressing the same as the next office worker is a good thing. Bleh. This is the result of a productivity-focused world. We are losing something here - we truly are.
And today, this notion of our world being disconnected and segmented because of productivity and linear learning made me think of another related topic:
I'll just let that one sit. Needless to say, my Facebook friends came through with flying colors. Perhaps I should return to this post later and provide their links - amazing set of resources.
In the meantime, I am posting a few tidbits of personal insight that I've come across today. It may be a bit random.
Gays and Their Christian Parents
Today, there were a couple discussions on Facebook about same-sex marriage, gay children and their Christian parents. Two people I love and respect are on opposite sides of the issue - one, my brother, a conservative pastor who sees himself as a protector of Christ's truth and the other, my progressive Christian theology student friend who still believes in God and the authority of Scripture, but does not see homosexuality as a sin.
Over the years, I've adopted a rather secular humanist outlook (this is always evolving) on the world. I no longer see things through the authority of the Bible, but I feel at a visceral level the struggle on both sides. I used to be that person who would fiercely uphold the "love the sinner but hate the sin" message. It would keep me up at night, and for all the cries for tolerance that I heard, though loving as they might have sounded to me, I felt fiercely protective of what I believed to be the Truth - yes, with a capital "T" - and ultimately this personal savior I loved. But since I have adopted a more naturalistic perspective and removed myself from the emotion that surrounds Biblical content, since I have been able to see the Bible as valuable for its place in humanity's history but not as a guide to govern modern issues, I can view these conversations from a perspective of third-party objectivity - and yet feel the tremendous gravity that both sides feel. I am fascinated that my heart is capable of feeling all these things at once.
So as I read the back-and-forth discussion, one commenter proclaiming that we cannot compromise God's truth, that it is more loving to tell your gay child that his gayness is not holy and the other (my theology friend) bringing up stories of gays being rejected by their parents and churches, my heart started to be filled with a sadness I hadn't felt in years. I recognized how deeply Christian parents love their gay children, loving the best they know how, anyway, and yet I, too, felt rejected personally at such a visceral level. I remember the sadness of "coming out" to my family, not about being gay (I am not), but about my non-belief in God or any god - how hurtful it was to look in their eyes and see how sad this made them, how they questioned whether there was something wrong with me (I was weak-minded) and ... so many other desperately sad exchanges of emotion. In the face of crushing your own child's self-esteem because of a certain belief about God's holiness, many parents will uphold what they believe to be Truth rather than question the voracity of the actual belief. You can't help this - I know this, and I know this with a kind of sad desperation. So, after much of the back and forth, I contributed to the comments this way:
Christian parents may never quite understand how deeply hurtful the beliefs they hold in their heart may be to their gay children, no matter how tenderly they speak, even with the kindest intent. And for the child to come to a point of forgiveness for that hurt is a long path and arduous journey, one that is difficult even for an adult, and for a teen ... how much more difficult? It is only after such a journey the child can understand the irony in the words of Jesus, "Forgive them, for they know not what they do."
Living in a World that Values Specialization and Productivity
Recently, I've posted a few Facebook status updates expressing my frustration with people not valuing (or really understanding) your subtleties, your aesthetic contributions to the world - well, not valuing them enough to want to pay for it. I have so much to say on this topic, but much of it has to do with living in a world that is structured for productivity and mass consumption. I am truly saddened when people in the creative community are accused of "not having substance." The less relevant you are to the productivity structure, the more stress you might encounter trying to live in it. Businesses pay for highly specialized skills in specific areas. As for me, I just can't wrap my identity in being a specialist in any one thing in exclusion of the many passions I have - I can't even begin to think this way.
With this in mind, I am sharing a few Facebook posts that speak to this:
Is the work of artists being commoditized? Frankly, I'm seeing too many of those Fiverr-produced ads, where all the animations, voiceovers, copywriting styles and background music (especially the music, ugh) have this _similarness_ that is making my insides feel just downight ... bland. Could we as a human species find a way back to having a soul?
Don't get me wrong - I am amazed by the work of these artists. Their voiceover work, knowing the level of my voiceover work, is quite impressive. In the same vein, I am impressed by the designers at Banana Republic and the GAP, as I, too, am a designer of clothes and bags. But everyone is wearing BR and GAP - it is everywhere. Everyone looks the same and thinks that dressing the same as the next office worker is a good thing. Bleh. This is the result of a productivity-focused world. We are losing something here - we truly are.
And today, this notion of our world being disconnected and segmented because of productivity and linear learning made me think of another related topic:
I am becoming more and more fascinated by "intelligences" that are sensory. If you can provide any insight, please send me things to watch or read. I recently went to a workshop where the trainer was from Waianae (btw - I am proud to say this is my hometown) and explained how Hawaiians are naturally aural learners, and he expanded by saying they take in their world by seeing and feeling and hearing. I've always been drawn to this kind of intelligence, and growing up in Waianae, I loved how people just knew how do to things, like throw luau with great efficiency or make friends with complete ease at the beach or get intel from others through rather deft conversation. These days, the closest words I might have for this is being street smart or having situational awareness, but I know it goes deeper than this. I think cultures institutionalize these things, whether the learning is linear or aural, as described by the trainer. I don't want to put one over the other, but I will ask the question - how many of these qualities have I suppressed trying to operate in the dominant culture that prizes specialization and a certain kind of productivity? I am not looking for any hard answers, but just want to open up a discussion. ... And of course, I want that reading material. Hmmmm .... wonder if Dr. Suzuki's Nurtured by Love covers this to an extent ... I just started reading this.
I'll just let that one sit. Needless to say, my Facebook friends came through with flying colors. Perhaps I should return to this post later and provide their links - amazing set of resources.
Monday, July 14, 2014
A Look Back: Handbag Lust
Several years ago, I got obsessed with designing clutches for myself using vintage fabric. I began by making them for events (e.g., opera) then for friends as Christmas presents, and the more these bags went into circulation, the more people told me that I should start selling them. Well …
I'd never seen myself as a business-minded person, but this was such an obsession, I just dove into the process, starting first with sewing up about 100 bags over a six-month period as starting inventory.
I then took all the necessary steps needed to launch a website - did the site concept, asked a friend to model my product line and another to photograph the on-scene shoot, secured the photoshoot location, photographed all inventory, wrote the website copy, did the website development and did all marketing and PR. I then got my handbags placed in the prestigious local boutique, Muumuu Heaven, which is a fashion favorite for celebrities such as Michelle Obama, Raiatea Helm and Cameron Diaz.
I then took all the necessary steps needed to launch a website - did the site concept, asked a friend to model my product line and another to photograph the on-scene shoot, secured the photoshoot location, photographed all inventory, wrote the website copy, did the website development and did all marketing and PR. I then got my handbags placed in the prestigious local boutique, Muumuu Heaven, which is a fashion favorite for celebrities such as Michelle Obama, Raiatea Helm and Cameron Diaz.
An unfortunate event that was taking place at this time was the bankruptcy of the Honolulu Symphony. I decided to take old Pops symphony aloha shirts given to me by musicians and make handbags out of them then donate the proceeds to help the musicians.
Business Goes Live
When it was time to launch in the summer of 2010, my hard work paid off. I got great press, and the handbags sold well. I was very busy, and weekends were filled with creating new inventory. Lots and lots of sewing and scouting new material.
Here are some articles:
Business Goes Live
When it was time to launch in the summer of 2010, my hard work paid off. I got great press, and the handbags sold well. I was very busy, and weekends were filled with creating new inventory. Lots and lots of sewing and scouting new material.
Here are some articles:
Winding Down
After a certain point, I realized I'd been working in my little apartment too much. Did I want to take this business to the next level? I enjoyed the creative process, but after a bit of soul searching, I decided the answer was no. I remember I had time one evening to attend a jazz concert when a singer friend of mine asked how I was doing. "Doing OK - sewing a lot," to which she replied, "too much sewing a dull girl makes." Things started to wind down.
The Old Home Page
The home page has since been taken offline, but thanks to the Wayback machine, you can experience the homepage as it was, featuring the beautiful music of the Hotclub of Hulaville and my picturesque model and great friend, Marina Li.
A Look Back
As I was going through some old photos, I was taken by the little treasures I'd once made. I'm not actively sewing handbags these days, but when I was sewing them, I do remember loving and yearning for every single one as if I'd sewn them for myself.
Here are photos of bags I made that have since found a happy owner.
Handbags at Muumuu Heaven
A New Kind of Independence Day
Hawai`i: A New Kind of Independence Day - July 4, 2014 from Ruth Shiroma Foster on Vimeo.
HONOLULU - It's the Fourth of July, and Henk Rogers, founder of Blue Planet Foundation, declares this day Happy Energy Independence Day. With iPad in hand, his granddaughter, Hannie, "flips the switch" and brings the family's new Round Top Drive home "off the grid." Leading the charge at the celebration, he called for Hawaii to be energy-independent by 2030.
Musical artists include:
Kenny Endo (taiko)
Norm Foster (clarinet)
Duane Padilla (violin/guitar)
Alika Lyman (bass)
Gerardo Velez (congas)
Jim Gagliano (guitar)
Jeannette Trevias (piano)
Jeff Mikulina (drums)
Video produced by Ruth Shiroma Foster
Saturday, March 1, 2014
Imagination and Civilization
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| Photo by Ruth Shiroma Foster |
Interesting question. Let me ramble, as I don't know exactly how I'll answer your question just yet. At a very core level, all humans want to thrive (survive, grow). Our human nature is to have imagination - imagination being the advanced evolutionary trait that allows us to plan for the future. At the base level, imagination is tied directly to thriving, surviving. It is thus the level of complexity by which humans use imagination that allows them to apply their energy to larger, more conceptual, institutional endeavors that promote human thriving - "making the world a better place," if you will. The simpler use of imagination may be to consider the ramifications if a mother fed her baby potato chips only - imagining how doing so would destroy her child and imagining feeding the child fruits and vegetables will promote a healthy body in the future. Both desires and applications of imagination, it can be argued, are inherently selfish because they harken to that core desire for human thriving, survival. It's just that in the case of "making the world a better place," you are applying your desire to thrive several concentric circles outside yourself. I think the drive for why we do things needs to be examined.
I don't know if I can speak for my generation per se, but among my peers, it's clear that many are applying themselves in a way that they know they are "giving to the community" to make the world a better place. This trait is seen in ministers, park soccer league coaches, songwriters, bloggers. I don't know how self-aware they are as they do it, but at the very least, their contributions often serve large groups of people - the community. The inventors of Google are 40 (I'm 41), and I don't know their story enough to know whether they planned to make the world a better place. But the result of their complex imaginations made it so anyway - sort of like positive collateral damage.
Your observation about people your age living for themselves - perhaps their imagination goes only to the bounds it's ready to go - so to family and friends, but nowhere outside of that. I think that quality is mutable as people's perspectives change with life experience. I have a friend who is putting his money, leadership, talent and design skills toward having humans populate Mars one day - with the idea that Earth will one day be unable to sustain human life. Now that's applying his imagination many, many, many concentric circles outside himself. One of the reasons homo sapiens were able to survive while other species died out was its ability to create community and use shared imagination. I think among humans, there are those who can think conceptually and apply themselves in larger ways that affect the population at an institutional level. But, there are those who keep their interests pretty close to themselves, just enough for their own inner circle to support a more predictable path. I've come to the conclusion that both kinds are necessary for the advancement of humanity. You need the thinkers and leaders to create new curves, but you also need the everyday folks with perhaps less imagination to sustain the curve long enough for the next one to come about.
Not sure how satisfying this response is, but something to chew on.
New Wine
Below are a series of selected journal entries describing what it was like to be confronted by my evangelical Christian family over my loss of faith.
It has been more than five years, and we have all forgiven each other, and the relationship has been healed. I attribute this to the inherent love that has always existed in my family.
Still, I feel it is important to make public what I went through. It was one of the most dramatic experiences, emotionally, I've ever been through. I believe it can be helpful for people on both sides - whether you're in ministry or whether you've left the faith.
Despite all the hurt, no matter how large the chasm, there is hope that relationships can heal. Humans and our ability to love are incredible things.
New Wine
August. 27, 2008
I just want to scream. I just want to be anonymous so I can scream as loudly as I can.
It has been more than five years, and we have all forgiven each other, and the relationship has been healed. I attribute this to the inherent love that has always existed in my family.
Still, I feel it is important to make public what I went through. It was one of the most dramatic experiences, emotionally, I've ever been through. I believe it can be helpful for people on both sides - whether you're in ministry or whether you've left the faith.
Despite all the hurt, no matter how large the chasm, there is hope that relationships can heal. Humans and our ability to love are incredible things.
Photo by Ruth Shiroma Foster
New Wine
August. 27, 2008
I just want to scream. I just want to be anonymous so I can scream as loudly as I can.
Today, I saw a "shrink" for the first time in my life. I'm 35.
My dad is a Southern Baptist minister and so is my brother. For the past eight years, I have questioned my faith in a very methodical way. And the things I now hold in my mind, the orthodoxy I no longer embrace, have made my mom cry, my dad not eat and drink and my brother cry and pray. I didn't want this to happen, but it did. And I'm so glad it did, because these days, I feel more capable of love, of reaching my potential, of thinking grand things. I am born again. And this makes my family sad. My mom says she has gotten high blood pressure and told my sister to never do what I'm doing. She says dad's quality of life will go down and that "this will affect us for the rest of our lives."
Dr. T heard 90 minutes worth of my life. He said many things, but the one thing that resonated most clearly was the idea that I need to pursue "personal power." The power my family has had over my life is a force I'm left to deal with.
I just want to fly away, as far away from here as I can. I just want to be in a place where I can truly discover who I am. I am new wine, and I can no longer be held in old wine skins.
No Longer Feels Like Home
August 31, 2008
No Longer Feels Like Home
August 31, 2008
When Norm and I visited Mom and Dad last week, Mom spoke in two-word sentences to me. I called her several times this past week and invited them to come to the Okinawan Festival. I'm getting the cold shoulder. Last week when I visited them, I felt completely uncomfortable, not welcomed at all. Mom didn't say "hi" to Norm until later and barely could stand to talk with me, despite my overtures at small talk and helping in the kitchen. With that feeling just under my skin, I am expected to "power through" like a robot and go to their house and "take" another one of these uncomfortable interactions?
If you think that this is normal and how Christian family members should treat their own family members, then I am truly at a loss for words. I simply don't agree. I would like to have a normal relationship with my parents, and because this is not possible on their end, I do think they need a third-party person to help them (1) accept me as a person even though they are disappointed with my decisions and (2) help work through some of their feelings of loss.
I know Mom and Dad are hurt over me not wanting to go to church. I have to say that I feel so heavy-laden with feelings of rejection that every time I look at the "Who We Are" or "Mission Statement" or "What We Believe" statement on the websites of other churches I've thought about visiting, I feel completely alienated. Emotionally, the recommendation from James to "take a break" from the Praise Team has taken a huge toll on me. This, in addition to the way the rest of my family has reacted caused a hole in my heart.
No one in my family, except Naomi, seems to have a shred of appreciation for what I'm going through.
Please don't call me. I really don't want to talk to anyone or email anyone. I just truly need a break.
Please don't call me. I really don't want to talk to anyone or email anyone. I just truly need a break.
The Inquisition
September 1, 2008
So now my Dad and Mom want me to drive over to their place and lay out in front of them the points of my theological beliefs. On the phone, Dad sounded exasperated and upset. I already articulated it before and got beaten down so hard by my brother and Mom. To experience the downpour of their disappointment and anger, the constant accusations that something is wrong with me, that I need to see a counselor because of my 180-degree turn, that I need to return to where I used to be eight years ago has affected my ability to focus on work. I took a sick day, but really I should have taken more. I told my Dad that I need a few days to gather my thoughts.
This meeting with my parents is going to be like the freaking Spanish Inquisition. I hate my family. Sometimes I just wish I could have kids so I do NOT raise them Christian.
Terms of Enlightenment
September 17, 2008
Today, my brother told me that he gets "frustrated" talking to me. He says he doesn't know who he's talking to. He thinks I that I think other people are not as informed as I am and that I give off this air that I'm more "enlightened" than others. "You're the hardest person in the world to talk to," he told me. He then went on to tell me he thinks that I don't know who I am and that I only believe what others around me believe and hold no beliefs of my own. It's as ifI 'm just adopting other people's ideas to "fit in."
"That is just so insulting," I told him. I turned told him that likewise, he was the same as I was. People do things to reinforce who they are and the things they believe. "You've been in a Christian bubble your whole life," I told him, then I said that I don't seek out Christian friends necessarily because that's not where I am. He, on the other hand, has pursued a Christian career (pastor), seeks Christian friends and married a Christian. It's really the same thing just with different content. People do things as a reflection of where they are - that's human nature.
I know he accuses me of looking down on him, but he looks down on me, too. Really. I think we're both even. Frankly, these days, it's hard for me to not look down on someone who sees the world in such simple terms and looks down on people who don't see things his way. This whole thing - this circular thing that has no clear resolve - is so tiring. It just wears on my soul.
Tainted
September 18, 2008
God, this is crazy. My family thinks I'm tainted.
March 1, 2014: It was my experience dealing with my family that caused me to pen the song, "Fingerprints." This song won the Oahu Kaua`i Music Festival Song Search competition in 2009 and can be found here.
I stopped journaling after the above post, most likely because the extreme emotional storms began to subside, and I no longer felt the need to let it out. Since our big rift, everyone in my family had grown more capable of seeing and accepting the other person. As I continue to build my journal entries, you'll see that my beliefs continue to evolve, with new insights every day. Today, my beliefs most closely resemble that of an atheist, but I consider this a mutable thing. This is a separate topic altogether, but it's important to note how far this is from the evangelical faith given to me by my family.
My relationship with my parents have mended. In fact, last summer, Norm and I went with my parents to Alaska and Seattle, and we had an incredible time. I was even able to enjoy a glass of wine with my salmon dinner!
My relationship with James has historically been pretty emotional. Growing up, we would really slug it out, and this always upset my mom. When we were both in ministry together, James and I supported each other with prayer and with very intense, deep conversation. Naturally, when our deepest-held beliefs collided, we collided as well. Since the explosion, though, we learned what has worked best to show love to each other, despite our differences. We have stopped talking too much politics and too much religion, but when we do and things get a little heated, we've found ways to to turn it into comedy or patch things with follow-up phone calls.
It was important for me to share this because I thought I'd pass along hope. When the rift happened, I couldn't see the end; I had absorbed so much hurt, and I thought my relationship with my family would never be restored. We are stronger and better than we think - we just need to give it time and apply love to places where there is common ground.
I stopped journaling after the above post, most likely because the extreme emotional storms began to subside, and I no longer felt the need to let it out. Since our big rift, everyone in my family had grown more capable of seeing and accepting the other person. As I continue to build my journal entries, you'll see that my beliefs continue to evolve, with new insights every day. Today, my beliefs most closely resemble that of an atheist, but I consider this a mutable thing. This is a separate topic altogether, but it's important to note how far this is from the evangelical faith given to me by my family.
My relationship with my parents have mended. In fact, last summer, Norm and I went with my parents to Alaska and Seattle, and we had an incredible time. I was even able to enjoy a glass of wine with my salmon dinner!
My relationship with James has historically been pretty emotional. Growing up, we would really slug it out, and this always upset my mom. When we were both in ministry together, James and I supported each other with prayer and with very intense, deep conversation. Naturally, when our deepest-held beliefs collided, we collided as well. Since the explosion, though, we learned what has worked best to show love to each other, despite our differences. We have stopped talking too much politics and too much religion, but when we do and things get a little heated, we've found ways to to turn it into comedy or patch things with follow-up phone calls.
It was important for me to share this because I thought I'd pass along hope. When the rift happened, I couldn't see the end; I had absorbed so much hurt, and I thought my relationship with my family would never be restored. We are stronger and better than we think - we just need to give it time and apply love to places where there is common ground.
Monday, January 20, 2014
Shirley Horn
When I watch videos of Shirley Horn, I see power. A very quiet, strong power.
Lately, I've been watching people I admire - I mean, really watching them, so I don't just listen to them, and I don't just look at them, but I try to feel what it might be like to be them.
And as much as I respect them for their technique and skill - their intonation, perfect pacing, the grace in their movement - that is not what inspires me, and I've known this for a long time. But only through this exercise have I been able to finally grasp why some people move me: It's their power of being. It's a live energy, a strong will, a current inside their body that is so deep and so real. They are strong from their heart, their gut, or, as they say in Hawaiian, their na`au. It's a kernel of power that over time they have managed to grow into something that, when you encounter it, takes your breath away. It's not what they do - it's who they are. You are simply experiencing who they are through what they are doing.
I'm certain this intensity of being, this live energy, is what makes a woman become amazing at anything she chooses. It is this strong being that propels her to hone her skills, so when in life she is called upon to express herself, she can honor that expression with the refinement necessary to make that expression true. Becoming skillful is not the end, but simply a means. Indeed, many go through a lifetime pursuing refinement in their chosen craft and never move those who hear and see them. With this in mind, I'm certain if Shirley Horn decided at a young age that fixing cars was her thing, she'd be a beautiful auto mechanic. I've come to understand that even though the world may venerate you for the contribution you've made to a specific field, for the role you've played, you should not allow your identity to be wrapped up in what you do; the real imprint lies in the power of your being, in who you are.
I have yet to unlock the mystery of what makes this live energy grow strong inside of you. Perhaps if I am able to see this power, the next step for me is to be this power, to give in when emotions well up inside of me - perhaps emotions are the center from which this begins? This is what I want to be mindful of as I become the Ruth I was meant to become.
This is just the beginning ...
Lately, I've been watching people I admire - I mean, really watching them, so I don't just listen to them, and I don't just look at them, but I try to feel what it might be like to be them.
And as much as I respect them for their technique and skill - their intonation, perfect pacing, the grace in their movement - that is not what inspires me, and I've known this for a long time. But only through this exercise have I been able to finally grasp why some people move me: It's their power of being. It's a live energy, a strong will, a current inside their body that is so deep and so real. They are strong from their heart, their gut, or, as they say in Hawaiian, their na`au. It's a kernel of power that over time they have managed to grow into something that, when you encounter it, takes your breath away. It's not what they do - it's who they are. You are simply experiencing who they are through what they are doing.
I'm certain this intensity of being, this live energy, is what makes a woman become amazing at anything she chooses. It is this strong being that propels her to hone her skills, so when in life she is called upon to express herself, she can honor that expression with the refinement necessary to make that expression true. Becoming skillful is not the end, but simply a means. Indeed, many go through a lifetime pursuing refinement in their chosen craft and never move those who hear and see them. With this in mind, I'm certain if Shirley Horn decided at a young age that fixing cars was her thing, she'd be a beautiful auto mechanic. I've come to understand that even though the world may venerate you for the contribution you've made to a specific field, for the role you've played, you should not allow your identity to be wrapped up in what you do; the real imprint lies in the power of your being, in who you are.
I have yet to unlock the mystery of what makes this live energy grow strong inside of you. Perhaps if I am able to see this power, the next step for me is to be this power, to give in when emotions well up inside of me - perhaps emotions are the center from which this begins? This is what I want to be mindful of as I become the Ruth I was meant to become.
This is just the beginning ...
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