I did it. My first art venue. My artwork was featured in an art event where I had my very own venue to fill with anything I wanted. Second Saturday Art Night is put on by the Shasta Arts Council in
Redding and every second Saturday of the month from 5-8pm local artists are
featured at participating businesses around town. It is free and anyone
can drive around town and look at art and enjoy the appetizers. I
enjoyed being an observer at these events and was encouraged to be one of the
artists of the month.
So tonight I did it. I had my artwork up at a local real estate company
which was located in a prime spot for the Art Hop. From 5-8pm I talked to
guests and did my best to schmooze (so that's how you spell it), which is not one of my best qualities.
Luckily, the wine helped bring down a few walls. Most people who came in gave me positive responses and
encouragement. Everything went without a hitch. People came, ate, drank, saw, and then it was over. It went smoothly. So why am I fighting back tears? Why do I feel so discouraged? Why do I feel like I've just been intimate with someone who doesn't even remember my name? It's not like I had a bad experience. It's like I'm laying in bed naked while a stranger tells me, "hey you're pretty good kid. I'll see ya around." and then walks out the door. I didn't fail. I satisfied. Didn't I? But it was a one night stand not love at first sight. As I left the venue and headed over to meet my boyfriends family at a near by bar to listen to some live music the feeling started to sink in. Am I loveable? Am I good enough to love? I sat down at our table and I felt like I was drifting. Somber waves were coming over me. At first I didn't know what was happening. I had fun tonight. Right? Why do I instantly feel alone? Why do I feel so small? I just accomplished something. I had an art show. I am getting my name out there. I'm networking. I told myself it's not about about selling anything even though I desperately hoped I would. Wait... I did sell something, but my boyfriend's mom doesn't count. That's like a sympathy sale. I want to be loved. As my party leaves the bar I'm left alone at a big table listening to the soothing yet sad voice of a touring Swedish folk singer. I try fight the tears that are attempting to stain my face. This singer performing is trying to be loved just like I attempted. I love her. I think it would be harder to sing my way into love than just hang it on the walls. Even though there are die hard fans for singers rather than artists; The Beatles, Elvis, Katy Perry. No one buys 300 dollar tickets and waits all day crammed with 100,000 people to see a photo shoot with Annie Lebovitz... who's that? My point exactly. But singing is never ending. You don't get to hang it on the wall and be finished.
I hate the feeling that my surroundings are the only thing holding back the well that is close to overflowing. I know that once I leave the table and walk outside my body will release what small restraint it had left. This knowledge makes me stay. A small part of me wants to get the crying over with. I just want to purge myself of this emotion. I notice a tip jar on the stage. I want to encourage this artist. I decide I'll tip her before I leave. I don't know what is keeping me at this bar all alone listening to music from this folk singer who is keeping my emotions raw. Then the singer says she's had bad days. She tells us and by us I think she is speaking only to me, that her dad once told her that being a successful artist isn't how many cds you sell or how many states you tour in that it is about never giving up. Nothing could have been more perfect and horrifying to hear in that moment. I don't know why that when you are upset that those perfect words that you needed to hear make you more emotional instead of cheer you up. Now I really wanted out of there to let the flood invade my face. I waited till she was done to give her a 10 dollar tip. I didn't want to tip her that much, but I felt that I should. I knew it would be a little encouragement and that any amount of encouragement as an artist can make a difference between pressing on and giving up. I made it to my car before I broke down. It's just so hard and vulnerable pursuing art. As I drove I tried to suck it up, as if tears make you more sad so if you fight the tears the emotion will be defeated. When that didn't work I thought maybe if I just sob and heave then it will get out of my system sooner. I decided to purge, but I refrained from compounding my pain with pity using examples of how hard my life is right now; I have no money, I'm not good enough, I'm still battling an injury, I live at home, woe is I. I refused to take pity on myself. I don't want to wallow. I want to get whatever this emotion is far away from me. I'm hoping that I will run out of tears and exhaust myself into indifference. I make it home just at the peak of my despair. As I turn my car off and put my head on the steering wheel my dog, Vive, jumps onto my window. She is so excited to see me. Doesn't she realize I'm having a breakdown. As she jumps frantically around my car searching for a way to reach me my mind shifts. It feels great to have a friendly face who doesn't care about how my day went. She is just so happy I'm home. Laughter starts to permeate through my sobs before it over takes them. Now I'm just laughing. This stupid dog has robbed me of my despair. It's over. I pick myself up and walk inside. It's not about how many pieces I sell or who likes my art, it's that I never give up. I won't give up.
Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Pooping Rainbows
I had my first art show. I've put my art up in Starbucks and been in a church bazaar, but nothing where I was with other artists at a venue centered around art. The show was at a local bar called Maxwells which promotes local musicians and artists from time to time. The way this came about was that a friend was talking to my sister about an art show she was trying to get together and was looking for some new artists to feature. Well my lovely sister mentioned she should include me. Fortunately, I was standing near by and agreed to it immediately.
I've always done photography and tried some art classes here and there, but never imagined myself as an artist. Artists can draw for one. My handwriting isn't even legible and if you can't draw letters what hope is left for everything else. Some people assume I can draw because I'm creative in other ways until they are on my team in pictionary and they quickly learn when you assume you make a loser out of you and me.
Anywho. Another reason I never considered an art path was because I figured if you were good fame and recognition would naturally follow. Since I'm clearly not famous (except when I'm mistaken for Megan Rapinoe) that must mean I'm not good enough. I wanted to know what would make me good enough. So as I spent some time getting to know my art professors. I realized that there is much more to art than just being naturally awesome. No one will ever know how good you are if you keep all your work in the studio. This shouldn't have come as a shock. I guess I figured I'd just be dead when my grandchildren stumbled upon my great works and they made millions with my instant popularity. So what if I want fame before I die? Well... promotion. Art is about promotion. Just like in any industry it's all about who you know. This was disheartening. I think I like the glamor when I'm dead thing more. Promoting myself requires interaction with others. Interaction with others. It's not that I don't play nice with others. It's just that I don't play nice with others. I have a low tolerance for small talk so I avoid it. This means I avoid most basic human interactions. Now you can try to analyze why I'm like this. Oh she is insecure, homeschool didn't develop her social skills, she's an elitist, just too cool for everyone, ect. I think some people just aren't social. Not antisocial. I'm not a recluse. I just don't bullshit very well. Now I'm learning that if I want to become successful I have to bullshit all the time. Now some of you wouldn't call promoting yourself or networking bullshitting, but then maybe it comes natural to you so it doesn't feel like you are trying to poop rainbows. For me networking feels like I'm working. Work where I try to convince you I'm a valuable asset to you and if we work together it will benefit you some way. For me it feels fake. I can't narrow down my interactions with people I enjoy conversing with. Now need to include everyone because you never know what or who someone knows. How does this not feel forced, fake, bullshit? How do you know if people even enjoy talking to each other or if they are just trying to sell themselves? This just doesn't seem fair. Why do some people get the naturally ability to network while others get anxiety over the thought of it?
OK. Back on topic. So promoting myself is a challenge. I'm trying to stay humble while convince you I'm awesome... because I am awesome (shameless promotion through blog). Over the past few months I've tried to "promote" myself, which has lead me to this art show. Well technically my sister promoted me, but thats what networking is about... right? After I got secured as an artist to the art show I've been preparing all my work. Picking out new pictures to get printed. Buying new frames. Learning how to build my own frames, cut out mattes (ruined 3 before I just went out and bought the right size), and how to hang a piece. Then a week before the show I get a DJ gig. It's always like that. Every weekend is free then two events on the same night. Now it was art show or DJ gig? Both! I had a feeling I wouldn't make it to the art show and I was secretly relieved. First there's no feeling like no one is buying your art. Second socializing. It was my two greatest stressors together and I wasn't going to be too upset if the DJ gig went too long. So the morning of I set up my art. There was 3 of us and it still took 2 hours. Now off to the DJ gig where I attempted to promote myself... "ummm can I give you some business cards?" Ya real confident. Now for this wedding the couple had a strict play by playlist going between their Ipad and dvd player. Most people don't realize that what you want to hear in your house or jamming in your car isn't always what you want to hear on the dance flour. During the 30 minutes of live Bruce Springsteen playing on the dvd player people started to complain. Now I had a feeling this would happen, but I always want to respect my clients wishes. Well they threw out their wishes and gave me a please fix it plea. Unfortunately, all I had was their iPad and my iPhone to work with. Luckily I'm a damn good DJ and I was able to hurry and put together all the dance music. You say you don't like Michael Jackson, but then you hear it on the dance floor and notice everyone else dancing and then you just happen to know all the words to "Beat It". The party at first looked like it was winding down and I get out early and make the art show. Thank you Springsteen. Then my awesomeness intervened and I went past our scheduled time. It's a pride thing. If you are dancing then I'm doing my job and let's be honest, how sad was I really going to be for missing the awkward art show. Even though I did want to see my art up on the wall again. It looked pretty darn good. Oh bummer I didn't make it. Nothing sold, but at least I didn't have to be there hoping some big art connoisseur was going to join the party during the last 30 minutes. Also, none of the other artists sold anything either. Well hello misery so glad you could join us. I have a couple more things lined up, but I'm afraid discouragement is going to kick in soon. Tell then I'll just keep trying to poop rainbows.
I've always done photography and tried some art classes here and there, but never imagined myself as an artist. Artists can draw for one. My handwriting isn't even legible and if you can't draw letters what hope is left for everything else. Some people assume I can draw because I'm creative in other ways until they are on my team in pictionary and they quickly learn when you assume you make a loser out of you and me.
Anywho. Another reason I never considered an art path was because I figured if you were good fame and recognition would naturally follow. Since I'm clearly not famous (except when I'm mistaken for Megan Rapinoe) that must mean I'm not good enough. I wanted to know what would make me good enough. So as I spent some time getting to know my art professors. I realized that there is much more to art than just being naturally awesome. No one will ever know how good you are if you keep all your work in the studio. This shouldn't have come as a shock. I guess I figured I'd just be dead when my grandchildren stumbled upon my great works and they made millions with my instant popularity. So what if I want fame before I die? Well... promotion. Art is about promotion. Just like in any industry it's all about who you know. This was disheartening. I think I like the glamor when I'm dead thing more. Promoting myself requires interaction with others. Interaction with others. It's not that I don't play nice with others. It's just that I don't play nice with others. I have a low tolerance for small talk so I avoid it. This means I avoid most basic human interactions. Now you can try to analyze why I'm like this. Oh she is insecure, homeschool didn't develop her social skills, she's an elitist, just too cool for everyone, ect. I think some people just aren't social. Not antisocial. I'm not a recluse. I just don't bullshit very well. Now I'm learning that if I want to become successful I have to bullshit all the time. Now some of you wouldn't call promoting yourself or networking bullshitting, but then maybe it comes natural to you so it doesn't feel like you are trying to poop rainbows. For me networking feels like I'm working. Work where I try to convince you I'm a valuable asset to you and if we work together it will benefit you some way. For me it feels fake. I can't narrow down my interactions with people I enjoy conversing with. Now need to include everyone because you never know what or who someone knows. How does this not feel forced, fake, bullshit? How do you know if people even enjoy talking to each other or if they are just trying to sell themselves? This just doesn't seem fair. Why do some people get the naturally ability to network while others get anxiety over the thought of it?
OK. Back on topic. So promoting myself is a challenge. I'm trying to stay humble while convince you I'm awesome... because I am awesome (shameless promotion through blog). Over the past few months I've tried to "promote" myself, which has lead me to this art show. Well technically my sister promoted me, but thats what networking is about... right? After I got secured as an artist to the art show I've been preparing all my work. Picking out new pictures to get printed. Buying new frames. Learning how to build my own frames, cut out mattes (ruined 3 before I just went out and bought the right size), and how to hang a piece. Then a week before the show I get a DJ gig. It's always like that. Every weekend is free then two events on the same night. Now it was art show or DJ gig? Both! I had a feeling I wouldn't make it to the art show and I was secretly relieved. First there's no feeling like no one is buying your art. Second socializing. It was my two greatest stressors together and I wasn't going to be too upset if the DJ gig went too long. So the morning of I set up my art. There was 3 of us and it still took 2 hours. Now off to the DJ gig where I attempted to promote myself... "ummm can I give you some business cards?" Ya real confident. Now for this wedding the couple had a strict play by playlist going between their Ipad and dvd player. Most people don't realize that what you want to hear in your house or jamming in your car isn't always what you want to hear on the dance flour. During the 30 minutes of live Bruce Springsteen playing on the dvd player people started to complain. Now I had a feeling this would happen, but I always want to respect my clients wishes. Well they threw out their wishes and gave me a please fix it plea. Unfortunately, all I had was their iPad and my iPhone to work with. Luckily I'm a damn good DJ and I was able to hurry and put together all the dance music. You say you don't like Michael Jackson, but then you hear it on the dance floor and notice everyone else dancing and then you just happen to know all the words to "Beat It". The party at first looked like it was winding down and I get out early and make the art show. Thank you Springsteen. Then my awesomeness intervened and I went past our scheduled time. It's a pride thing. If you are dancing then I'm doing my job and let's be honest, how sad was I really going to be for missing the awkward art show. Even though I did want to see my art up on the wall again. It looked pretty darn good. Oh bummer I didn't make it. Nothing sold, but at least I didn't have to be there hoping some big art connoisseur was going to join the party during the last 30 minutes. Also, none of the other artists sold anything either. Well hello misery so glad you could join us. I have a couple more things lined up, but I'm afraid discouragement is going to kick in soon. Tell then I'll just keep trying to poop rainbows.
Friday, June 8, 2012
Training days
You know those days when you open you're eyes and you are overwhelmed with fatigue and it stays with you all day? I was dreading my long day and the struggle my eyelids would have against me. Just stay open for 10 more hours. I love busy days, but right now I'd kill for tomorrow to come sooner. Kill.
I was so prepared for a bad grumpy day, but was sleepily surprised. My first stop of the day was to check on video camera. Very knowledgeable guy gave me all the info I need well except how to afford them. For a Canon 5D the body alone is $3,000. What's so special about this camera you might ask. Well since I've been educated let me tell you. The Canon 5D has become the standard for filmmakers. I mean Spielberg isn't using one, but the directors of the show House are. What's great about this SLR (single lens reflex) is that it not only takes pictures at 28 megapixels, but also HD video. With the add on lenses you have control over your depth of field unlike in a standard video camera. There are 2 problems with this camera. One is that the internal microphone is useless. You have to buy an external mic which aren't cheap either. Second problem is with the auto focus. It doesn't have one while filming. So if you're recording and your subject moves out of focus you have to focus them manually. This can get really tricky if you are shooting wildlife, sports, or documentaries. It is rumored that Canon is coming out with a new camera in a month or two and possibly the focus problem will be fixed.
I guess I'll just wait for the new one that comes out the decade I can afford it. When I walked into the store I thought maybe $1,500 or the most $2,000 was what I had to save up for not $3,000 plus an extra $1,000 for some lenses and a microphone. Who is buying these? No wonder they are being used in the film industry because no average hobbyist could afford it. Including me.
Here is what the lovely camera looks like. Isn't it beautiful? If anyone wants to donate some money to my camera cause I will humbly accept. Or if you are one of the lucky millions that has one and is tired of it not being put to use I will gladly take it off your hands. Or you can make an investment and I will make you a beautiful video.
I was so prepared for a bad grumpy day, but was sleepily surprised. My first stop of the day was to check on video camera. Very knowledgeable guy gave me all the info I need well except how to afford them. For a Canon 5D the body alone is $3,000. What's so special about this camera you might ask. Well since I've been educated let me tell you. The Canon 5D has become the standard for filmmakers. I mean Spielberg isn't using one, but the directors of the show House are. What's great about this SLR (single lens reflex) is that it not only takes pictures at 28 megapixels, but also HD video. With the add on lenses you have control over your depth of field unlike in a standard video camera. There are 2 problems with this camera. One is that the internal microphone is useless. You have to buy an external mic which aren't cheap either. Second problem is with the auto focus. It doesn't have one while filming. So if you're recording and your subject moves out of focus you have to focus them manually. This can get really tricky if you are shooting wildlife, sports, or documentaries. It is rumored that Canon is coming out with a new camera in a month or two and possibly the focus problem will be fixed.
I guess I'll just wait for the new one that comes out the decade I can afford it. When I walked into the store I thought maybe $1,500 or the most $2,000 was what I had to save up for not $3,000 plus an extra $1,000 for some lenses and a microphone. Who is buying these? No wonder they are being used in the film industry because no average hobbyist could afford it. Including me.
Here is what the lovely camera looks like. Isn't it beautiful? If anyone wants to donate some money to my camera cause I will humbly accept. Or if you are one of the lucky millions that has one and is tired of it not being put to use I will gladly take it off your hands. Or you can make an investment and I will make you a beautiful video.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Odessa, Ukraine
There were 3 ministry teams that were assigned to three different locations: Berezhna Volya, a tiny village, Odessa, a big international city, and Koziatyn, something in between. I was put in the Odessa team, Steve was on the Koziatyn team, and Simone was on the Berezhna Volya team.
I was wondering about the different personalities of my teammates but we all seem to get along great. There were 3 of us from California, Donabel, Kaitlyn, and I; one girl from Oregon, Ree; 3 kids from Kiev, Ukraine, Sasha, Anya, and Andrey; one guy from India, Amitava, and Tim from Ireland.
I really enjoyed everyone on my team. A key factor for me is being able to open up and laugh a lot. With this team we all feel comfortable joking with each other, which I think breaks down barriers easier than anything else. Maybe this is just my opinion though. The 12 hr. train ride was insane do to the heat of the train and the cramped space and limited sleep. When we got off the train at 6am were sweaty and miserable.
Not too long after we met our host, Natalia, she informed Tim, our leader, that he would be speaking at church that afternoon. Judging by the expression on Tim's face he was unaware of this. We all give Tim a look of sympathy. However, I had just learned from the bonding we did on the train ride, that Tim is the Eurasia Regional Nazarene Youth International President and our voice for the Global Nazarene Youth Council. So he was responsible for putting together the conference that we had just attended. I had no idea that he was behind it all. What surprised me even more is that he is only 23 years old. After knowing this, I was less worried about him having to do a short notice sermon than I would about me having to do it. After a couple more hours of sleep and some breakfast the sermon went smoothly.
After church, we took the rest of the day to go over the plans for the week. Then that night we took a night tour of Odessa. As we headed down to the pier, I was allured by some classical music being performed by a band on a dinner boat. As I sat to listen I thought wow, its moments like these that makes life so interesting. How did we end up listening to this music on a pier in Odessa, Ukraine? Life is unexplainable. That’s one thing I love about it. How did I go from working 2 jobs in Redding, Ca to a cinematographer for World Missions doing a job in Ukraine?
The next day we took a tour around the city and then a boat tour. Our hosts wanted to make sure that we were having a memorable time, which was fantastic, but the team and I were starting to feel a little guilty about not doing much mission work yet. I wondered what Simone and Steve were up to and if they were getting some good stories? I hoped I could get some good footage out of this trip. I had not been given a story to shoot, but instead I was looking for a story amongst my team and my mission. My specialty isn't necessarily finding stories so I was a little nervous about finding something worth documenting. However, it can be quite frustrating investing so much time into something and having nothing come of it, but no matter what I had to try. I hope that my documentaries can make a difference some day. If it only motivates one person to help those in need then isn’t that enough?
When we went to the aids center I did my best to prepare myself for the people I would see. I did my best to smile and interact… well as much as I could because of the language barrier. I could have gone in and tried to sympathize and cry for them, but I did not think that is what they needed. If I were in their situation, I would not want sympathy, but a friendly smile and see that people care. It was afterward, when we started to pray with the priest, that I allowed the sadness to over take me. The priest, Alexander, anointed our heads with oil, and we left for home. We were not able to stay long because we were only allowed in each room for 10 minutes and also not everyone wanted visitors. I felt like we didn’t spend a lot of time doing mission work because everything we did was cut short. I wondered, are we wasting too much time? Is there some reason we are always in the house? Is there some need that we are not fulfilling?
Later that day, I was glad when I found out that we would split up to do other activities. One group went to the park to play around and hang out with other kids, but no kids joined in. Then one group went to a 93 year old lady’s apartment named Rita. I visited with her for a short while before I headed with Natalia to check in on the homeless boys that Natalia tries to looks after. One of her usual rides was able to take us. It was supposed to be a quick ride. Well a quick ride to death. Not only were his stops abrupt, but also he drove on the wrong side of the road. I could write a whole page about his awful driving but rather to the important things. I was doing my best to be friendly and not looked surprised when I arrived to see the homeless boys. When I saw small children living in an alleyway without any parents, proper clothes, and were totally filthy, it was hard to keep a smile on my face. One of the kids who didn’t look any older than 10 was high, most likely from sniffing glue. One of the kids looked at me with amazement. I wonder how does a homeless child find a way out of the street and into normal life? He can’t get a job. He can’t take out a loan. He can’t go on welfare. And, from what we were told, they hate the orphanages that the police try to put them in. They said that living on the street is 20 times better than staying with the group homes. I can’t even imagine how awful those places must be considering the trash and emptiness they are living in right now.
Natalia told the boys that we would be back tomorrow around 12 so they should bring their friends if they want any food or clothing. Natalia wanted me to film the boys and I think they won’t mind because they know that she is getting them food. If I were them I wouldn’t want to be filmed. However, as much as I hate it, it is my job. I am supposed to be documenting the troubles of the world in order to raise awareness to the needs that as Christians we should partake in helping. I cringed when I filmed them though. I just wanted to close my eyes and disappear. I learned that many people have filmed them and then used the footage for their own gain and profit, without doing anything to help them. It made me sick inside. How can children end up like this? I just don’t understand. Where are their parents? Where are their relatives? Where are the government agencies that are supposed to be taking care of these children? Who can be more important than children? They are helpless, and the worst is that it is not their fault…. And they can’t do anything to help themselves. What do you tell a 9-year-old living on the street to do in order to better his or her situation? Hmmm… I just realized that there were not any girls. Why aren’t their any girls? Maybe the girls prefer to be in the group homes… maybe the girls are taken as sex slaves so they are more at risk on the street? That’s another terrible thought I can’t add to my burdened brain right now. I recently learned from one of seminars during NYC that Ukraine is leading in numbers of human trafficking in Eastern Europe. Over 117, 000 Ukrainians each year are human trafficked. Below I have included a link to a human trafficking awareness video. We watched this video at NYC, but I must warn you it is disturbing and graphic.
Here
Also, for more information visit this website
Here
Okay that was a sidetrack, but something very important as well.
After we grabbed the boys some meals from Mc Donald’s we headed back to the house. The rest of the way back I was extremely depressed about the boys I had just met and very annoyed with this careless greedy driver that didn’t even take a second look at the boys as he asked for 20 more greivas for his ride… He looked, smelled, and drove like a greedy slimeball. Nonetheless, I keep fighting tears as I looked out the window to this broken city. I had never seen homeless children before and I didn't know what to do with my feelings. I wanted to let the world know that these kids need help. Then there was this nagging cynicism that kept telling me, “I know you won’t do anything. You’ll just forget about these kids as soon as you get home.” I started to believe this voice. I’m just as selfish as our driver. I sunk further into depression. It was hard for me to hold it together throughout the night. I secretly wanted to tell someone but not sure who I could trust with my feelings and I don’t feel comfortable crying in front of anyone here. I still find crying to be a weakness and hate how it makes me feel. Like always, I kept it in. When Donabel asks how it went I just told her that it was tough and hugged her. I stayed pretty somber throughout the night.
When we visited the kids the next day it wasn’t as tough. I felt selfish and less human when I consciously forgot the nail clippers for the kids. I was totally thinking, I have such a nice set and they might get ruined. Why can’t I be different? It’s just stupid nail clippers. Luckily we had scissors if we really needed them, but it didn’t help how I felt. But I don’t think the kid with the bad nails showed up. Doesn’t matter though. I still felt awful. I’m going to work on that. It’s amazing how quickly you can become desensitized. We picked up most of the garbage surrounding their home. Most of it was Mc Donald’s wrappers and soda bottles. I don’t know if it was from food they have received or if its been taken out of the garbage, probably a little bit of both. Natalia wanted me to film instead of pick up trash. I got used to filming. I didn't have to cringe as much and it helps that I can include my team in the shots.
How would I feel if someone was filming me? However, if they also brought food when I was starving I think I would care a lot less. So we fed the boys some sandwiches that our wonderful cook Luba had made and some less than par chocolate chip cookies slash cake that we made. Then the guys kicked the soccer ball around while I tossed the Frisbee around with a few people on the team. It felt good to be active and sweat. One of the homeless boys, Sergey, looked ill and said he felt very sick. Natalia and Peter, the local Nazarene pastor, took Sergey to the hospital. We later found out that he had pneumonia and could have died if he wasn't brought in. He is only 17 years old.
The next day we visited Sergey in the hospital. He looked a lot better and said he felt tremendously better. He told us that this made him realize that he needs to get off the street and is planning on moving to his aunts but has to wait for a visa first, which can take months. He said that he wants to go to engineering school. I don't know why this came as a surprise. I guess because I just thought that these kids don't really have goals, but they do. These kids want to get out of their situation, but they just don't have the means to do so. I'm glad that we were able to take this boy to the hospital and show him that we care. I have quite a bit of footage of the mission work we have been doing but nothing to tie it all together. Except for that night....
We stayed at the house of a woman named Natalia and in an hour I cried and laughed and felt a glimpse of her pain. I think I’ve found my story. Since I had arrived in her home she had been most hospitable, but quite forceful. She is obviously a strong woman and I feared to be on her bad side. She does not take any crap and demands respect, which I learned to give most willingly. What I learned is that she has endured a tough life and given up many luxuries to provide for her family and others. She has good stories and did not mind to sharing. Her personality and religious practices are very different from mine, which fascinated me. I told her that I work for the Eurasia regional office in the communication department and that I’m trying to find a story for World Mission and told her that I would like to interview her. She was willing, but said that she has nothing to do with her stories, when in fact the stories are nothing without her.
She had traveled a lot due to the fact her father was a Christian pastor and a Jew, therefore the victim of persecution. She did not talk much about her background, but instead she delved in to her greatest story, her daughter. She has 4 boys and 2 daughters. She lost a daughter 5 months ago in a car accident. Her daughter’s pictures are throughout the house as a reminder of her and her memories. Her wound is still so fresh that I cannot mention her name without tears welling up in her eyes. The thought of losing a sister is too unbearable to think about let alone experience and losing a daughter is more misery than I hope I’ll ever know. She told me her story and tears started to flow as she said that her daughter is her own best testimony. She started off her story by mentioning, that she has seen the Passion of the Christ 12 times. I’m not sure if she was exaggerating because it did not seem like her forte. After she watched the scene where both Mother Mary and Mary Magdalene cleaned up Jesus blood after He was crucified, Natalia prayed that she would know his pain, and that she could feel as he felt.
On March 15, Natalia had to take care of her mother-in-law and asked her daughter to go to a convention to speak in her place. Even though her daughter was ill and others advised her not to go, she wanted to fulfill her mother’s wishes, and went ahead to the convention. She made a lasting impact on those she talked with and met there, and it would be the last people she had contact with. On the way home from the convention everyone in the car including the driver fell asleep. The car crashed into an oncoming car and the driver and the other passenger survived with a few scrapes whereas her daughter was killed instantly. As she told her story this stern, fearless woman becomes a gentle hurt child asking for Jesus’ forgiveness for her foolish prayer. She feels sick, and to blame for the loss of her daughter. It was her that prayed to feel Jesus pain; it was her that asked her daughter to fill her place; it was her that was not there. It was her fault. How can I convince this woman that she is not to blame? Does any one else blame her? Would I blame her? But how could I blame her any more than I could blame the mother-in-law that she was aiding.
It was at this time that the strangest thing happened to me. I had started to feel light-headed and had to stop the interview because I thought that I was going to get sick. Luckily, I didn't, but I was still sweating profusely, and I was cold, and pale. Natalia was worried, and so was I. This had never happened to me before. After 20 min the nausea subsided and I continued with the interview. I cannot explain what happened but I know it wasn't going to prevent me from getting this interview. Back on track...
Natalia continued to describe her daughter as though she was talking about an angel. She was the type of person you would tell your deepest frightful secrets to. Someone who would meet you at your level, if you were a small child she would crawl on her knees or for an old woman she listen patiently to intrinsic stories. She loved everyone as though if she did not love them no one else would. She invested her life into others. So why? Why are they the ones that are taken?
I cannot help but to have a little cynicism enter into my brain. I know that when someone dies we can tend to glorify them. If we were to describe them while they were alive we might say, oh they are great and nice, but once they die they become angelic, wonderful, and like no other. I know that is horrible to say, but its true. I guess it’s just a way to honor them. There is no need to remember their faults, weaknesses, but are they really as amazing as described. If so, why is it that God always seems to take the best people? It is as if He sends us angels to give us a glimpse of Heaven, but then selfishly takes them away so we will never take them for granted. No matter what the reason is I still had tears in my eyes as she described her angel on earth who God took back to heaven.
How is it that it is the family who dedicates their life to serve God and others always seem to be the one that are “punished”? Why would anyone want to sign up for that? Believe in God and your life will have devastation and sorrow beyond belief. However, I am glad for people like Natalia.
When the week was over I was sad to leave. I had grown so close to everyone and had a special place for Ukraine in my heart. At that point I had spent more time in Ukraine than I had in any other country including my new home in Switzerland. In Ukraine, I learned some of the history of the country, understood the people better, could find my way around Kiev and Odessa, two of the biggest cities, and spoke more Russian than German. I couldn’t look forward to going home cause Ukraine was my new home. Nonetheless, our journey was over and we took the steamy train back to Kiev to have a debriefing before we all parted our ways. As we all shared our thoughts and feelings it was amazing how everyone took something different and unique from our trip.
On the plane ride home I was going over the past few weeks and the incredible experience I had. However, then I also thought of the homeless boys that I had left behind. Its not fare that I can just hop on plane and head home while they are living in an alley scrounging for food. I don’t want to just forget about them like most people do once they get to the airport. Yet I am conflicted… what can I do? It’s nice and thoughtful to feed them for a day, but then what? When I am at home several countries away, what can I do?
What can we do?....
I was wondering about the different personalities of my teammates but we all seem to get along great. There were 3 of us from California, Donabel, Kaitlyn, and I; one girl from Oregon, Ree; 3 kids from Kiev, Ukraine, Sasha, Anya, and Andrey; one guy from India, Amitava, and Tim from Ireland.
I really enjoyed everyone on my team. A key factor for me is being able to open up and laugh a lot. With this team we all feel comfortable joking with each other, which I think breaks down barriers easier than anything else. Maybe this is just my opinion though. The 12 hr. train ride was insane do to the heat of the train and the cramped space and limited sleep. When we got off the train at 6am were sweaty and miserable.
Not too long after we met our host, Natalia, she informed Tim, our leader, that he would be speaking at church that afternoon. Judging by the expression on Tim's face he was unaware of this. We all give Tim a look of sympathy. However, I had just learned from the bonding we did on the train ride, that Tim is the Eurasia Regional Nazarene Youth International President and our voice for the Global Nazarene Youth Council. So he was responsible for putting together the conference that we had just attended. I had no idea that he was behind it all. What surprised me even more is that he is only 23 years old. After knowing this, I was less worried about him having to do a short notice sermon than I would about me having to do it. After a couple more hours of sleep and some breakfast the sermon went smoothly.
After church, we took the rest of the day to go over the plans for the week. Then that night we took a night tour of Odessa. As we headed down to the pier, I was allured by some classical music being performed by a band on a dinner boat. As I sat to listen I thought wow, its moments like these that makes life so interesting. How did we end up listening to this music on a pier in Odessa, Ukraine? Life is unexplainable. That’s one thing I love about it. How did I go from working 2 jobs in Redding, Ca to a cinematographer for World Missions doing a job in Ukraine?
The next day we took a tour around the city and then a boat tour. Our hosts wanted to make sure that we were having a memorable time, which was fantastic, but the team and I were starting to feel a little guilty about not doing much mission work yet. I wondered what Simone and Steve were up to and if they were getting some good stories? I hoped I could get some good footage out of this trip. I had not been given a story to shoot, but instead I was looking for a story amongst my team and my mission. My specialty isn't necessarily finding stories so I was a little nervous about finding something worth documenting. However, it can be quite frustrating investing so much time into something and having nothing come of it, but no matter what I had to try. I hope that my documentaries can make a difference some day. If it only motivates one person to help those in need then isn’t that enough?
When we went to the aids center I did my best to prepare myself for the people I would see. I did my best to smile and interact… well as much as I could because of the language barrier. I could have gone in and tried to sympathize and cry for them, but I did not think that is what they needed. If I were in their situation, I would not want sympathy, but a friendly smile and see that people care. It was afterward, when we started to pray with the priest, that I allowed the sadness to over take me. The priest, Alexander, anointed our heads with oil, and we left for home. We were not able to stay long because we were only allowed in each room for 10 minutes and also not everyone wanted visitors. I felt like we didn’t spend a lot of time doing mission work because everything we did was cut short. I wondered, are we wasting too much time? Is there some reason we are always in the house? Is there some need that we are not fulfilling?
Later that day, I was glad when I found out that we would split up to do other activities. One group went to the park to play around and hang out with other kids, but no kids joined in. Then one group went to a 93 year old lady’s apartment named Rita. I visited with her for a short while before I headed with Natalia to check in on the homeless boys that Natalia tries to looks after. One of her usual rides was able to take us. It was supposed to be a quick ride. Well a quick ride to death. Not only were his stops abrupt, but also he drove on the wrong side of the road. I could write a whole page about his awful driving but rather to the important things. I was doing my best to be friendly and not looked surprised when I arrived to see the homeless boys. When I saw small children living in an alleyway without any parents, proper clothes, and were totally filthy, it was hard to keep a smile on my face. One of the kids who didn’t look any older than 10 was high, most likely from sniffing glue. One of the kids looked at me with amazement. I wonder how does a homeless child find a way out of the street and into normal life? He can’t get a job. He can’t take out a loan. He can’t go on welfare. And, from what we were told, they hate the orphanages that the police try to put them in. They said that living on the street is 20 times better than staying with the group homes. I can’t even imagine how awful those places must be considering the trash and emptiness they are living in right now.
Natalia told the boys that we would be back tomorrow around 12 so they should bring their friends if they want any food or clothing. Natalia wanted me to film the boys and I think they won’t mind because they know that she is getting them food. If I were them I wouldn’t want to be filmed. However, as much as I hate it, it is my job. I am supposed to be documenting the troubles of the world in order to raise awareness to the needs that as Christians we should partake in helping. I cringed when I filmed them though. I just wanted to close my eyes and disappear. I learned that many people have filmed them and then used the footage for their own gain and profit, without doing anything to help them. It made me sick inside. How can children end up like this? I just don’t understand. Where are their parents? Where are their relatives? Where are the government agencies that are supposed to be taking care of these children? Who can be more important than children? They are helpless, and the worst is that it is not their fault…. And they can’t do anything to help themselves. What do you tell a 9-year-old living on the street to do in order to better his or her situation? Hmmm… I just realized that there were not any girls. Why aren’t their any girls? Maybe the girls prefer to be in the group homes… maybe the girls are taken as sex slaves so they are more at risk on the street? That’s another terrible thought I can’t add to my burdened brain right now. I recently learned from one of seminars during NYC that Ukraine is leading in numbers of human trafficking in Eastern Europe. Over 117, 000 Ukrainians each year are human trafficked. Below I have included a link to a human trafficking awareness video. We watched this video at NYC, but I must warn you it is disturbing and graphic.
Here
Also, for more information visit this website
Here
Okay that was a sidetrack, but something very important as well.
After we grabbed the boys some meals from Mc Donald’s we headed back to the house. The rest of the way back I was extremely depressed about the boys I had just met and very annoyed with this careless greedy driver that didn’t even take a second look at the boys as he asked for 20 more greivas for his ride… He looked, smelled, and drove like a greedy slimeball. Nonetheless, I keep fighting tears as I looked out the window to this broken city. I had never seen homeless children before and I didn't know what to do with my feelings. I wanted to let the world know that these kids need help. Then there was this nagging cynicism that kept telling me, “I know you won’t do anything. You’ll just forget about these kids as soon as you get home.” I started to believe this voice. I’m just as selfish as our driver. I sunk further into depression. It was hard for me to hold it together throughout the night. I secretly wanted to tell someone but not sure who I could trust with my feelings and I don’t feel comfortable crying in front of anyone here. I still find crying to be a weakness and hate how it makes me feel. Like always, I kept it in. When Donabel asks how it went I just told her that it was tough and hugged her. I stayed pretty somber throughout the night.
When we visited the kids the next day it wasn’t as tough. I felt selfish and less human when I consciously forgot the nail clippers for the kids. I was totally thinking, I have such a nice set and they might get ruined. Why can’t I be different? It’s just stupid nail clippers. Luckily we had scissors if we really needed them, but it didn’t help how I felt. But I don’t think the kid with the bad nails showed up. Doesn’t matter though. I still felt awful. I’m going to work on that. It’s amazing how quickly you can become desensitized. We picked up most of the garbage surrounding their home. Most of it was Mc Donald’s wrappers and soda bottles. I don’t know if it was from food they have received or if its been taken out of the garbage, probably a little bit of both. Natalia wanted me to film instead of pick up trash. I got used to filming. I didn't have to cringe as much and it helps that I can include my team in the shots.
How would I feel if someone was filming me? However, if they also brought food when I was starving I think I would care a lot less. So we fed the boys some sandwiches that our wonderful cook Luba had made and some less than par chocolate chip cookies slash cake that we made. Then the guys kicked the soccer ball around while I tossed the Frisbee around with a few people on the team. It felt good to be active and sweat. One of the homeless boys, Sergey, looked ill and said he felt very sick. Natalia and Peter, the local Nazarene pastor, took Sergey to the hospital. We later found out that he had pneumonia and could have died if he wasn't brought in. He is only 17 years old.
The next day we visited Sergey in the hospital. He looked a lot better and said he felt tremendously better. He told us that this made him realize that he needs to get off the street and is planning on moving to his aunts but has to wait for a visa first, which can take months. He said that he wants to go to engineering school. I don't know why this came as a surprise. I guess because I just thought that these kids don't really have goals, but they do. These kids want to get out of their situation, but they just don't have the means to do so. I'm glad that we were able to take this boy to the hospital and show him that we care. I have quite a bit of footage of the mission work we have been doing but nothing to tie it all together. Except for that night....
We stayed at the house of a woman named Natalia and in an hour I cried and laughed and felt a glimpse of her pain. I think I’ve found my story. Since I had arrived in her home she had been most hospitable, but quite forceful. She is obviously a strong woman and I feared to be on her bad side. She does not take any crap and demands respect, which I learned to give most willingly. What I learned is that she has endured a tough life and given up many luxuries to provide for her family and others. She has good stories and did not mind to sharing. Her personality and religious practices are very different from mine, which fascinated me. I told her that I work for the Eurasia regional office in the communication department and that I’m trying to find a story for World Mission and told her that I would like to interview her. She was willing, but said that she has nothing to do with her stories, when in fact the stories are nothing without her.
She had traveled a lot due to the fact her father was a Christian pastor and a Jew, therefore the victim of persecution. She did not talk much about her background, but instead she delved in to her greatest story, her daughter. She has 4 boys and 2 daughters. She lost a daughter 5 months ago in a car accident. Her daughter’s pictures are throughout the house as a reminder of her and her memories. Her wound is still so fresh that I cannot mention her name without tears welling up in her eyes. The thought of losing a sister is too unbearable to think about let alone experience and losing a daughter is more misery than I hope I’ll ever know. She told me her story and tears started to flow as she said that her daughter is her own best testimony. She started off her story by mentioning, that she has seen the Passion of the Christ 12 times. I’m not sure if she was exaggerating because it did not seem like her forte. After she watched the scene where both Mother Mary and Mary Magdalene cleaned up Jesus blood after He was crucified, Natalia prayed that she would know his pain, and that she could feel as he felt.
On March 15, Natalia had to take care of her mother-in-law and asked her daughter to go to a convention to speak in her place. Even though her daughter was ill and others advised her not to go, she wanted to fulfill her mother’s wishes, and went ahead to the convention. She made a lasting impact on those she talked with and met there, and it would be the last people she had contact with. On the way home from the convention everyone in the car including the driver fell asleep. The car crashed into an oncoming car and the driver and the other passenger survived with a few scrapes whereas her daughter was killed instantly. As she told her story this stern, fearless woman becomes a gentle hurt child asking for Jesus’ forgiveness for her foolish prayer. She feels sick, and to blame for the loss of her daughter. It was her that prayed to feel Jesus pain; it was her that asked her daughter to fill her place; it was her that was not there. It was her fault. How can I convince this woman that she is not to blame? Does any one else blame her? Would I blame her? But how could I blame her any more than I could blame the mother-in-law that she was aiding.
It was at this time that the strangest thing happened to me. I had started to feel light-headed and had to stop the interview because I thought that I was going to get sick. Luckily, I didn't, but I was still sweating profusely, and I was cold, and pale. Natalia was worried, and so was I. This had never happened to me before. After 20 min the nausea subsided and I continued with the interview. I cannot explain what happened but I know it wasn't going to prevent me from getting this interview. Back on track...
Natalia continued to describe her daughter as though she was talking about an angel. She was the type of person you would tell your deepest frightful secrets to. Someone who would meet you at your level, if you were a small child she would crawl on her knees or for an old woman she listen patiently to intrinsic stories. She loved everyone as though if she did not love them no one else would. She invested her life into others. So why? Why are they the ones that are taken?
I cannot help but to have a little cynicism enter into my brain. I know that when someone dies we can tend to glorify them. If we were to describe them while they were alive we might say, oh they are great and nice, but once they die they become angelic, wonderful, and like no other. I know that is horrible to say, but its true. I guess it’s just a way to honor them. There is no need to remember their faults, weaknesses, but are they really as amazing as described. If so, why is it that God always seems to take the best people? It is as if He sends us angels to give us a glimpse of Heaven, but then selfishly takes them away so we will never take them for granted. No matter what the reason is I still had tears in my eyes as she described her angel on earth who God took back to heaven.
How is it that it is the family who dedicates their life to serve God and others always seem to be the one that are “punished”? Why would anyone want to sign up for that? Believe in God and your life will have devastation and sorrow beyond belief. However, I am glad for people like Natalia.
When the week was over I was sad to leave. I had grown so close to everyone and had a special place for Ukraine in my heart. At that point I had spent more time in Ukraine than I had in any other country including my new home in Switzerland. In Ukraine, I learned some of the history of the country, understood the people better, could find my way around Kiev and Odessa, two of the biggest cities, and spoke more Russian than German. I couldn’t look forward to going home cause Ukraine was my new home. Nonetheless, our journey was over and we took the steamy train back to Kiev to have a debriefing before we all parted our ways. As we all shared our thoughts and feelings it was amazing how everyone took something different and unique from our trip.
On the plane ride home I was going over the past few weeks and the incredible experience I had. However, then I also thought of the homeless boys that I had left behind. Its not fare that I can just hop on plane and head home while they are living in an alley scrounging for food. I don’t want to just forget about them like most people do once they get to the airport. Yet I am conflicted… what can I do? It’s nice and thoughtful to feed them for a day, but then what? When I am at home several countries away, what can I do?
What can we do?....
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