Crumple

Peace

I'm emotionally worn out

Scattering

(photo credit: Bethany Ludens)

Why is the sky blue?

Rayleigh Scattering describes how light hits the atmosphere and scatters inelastically, bouncing off itself and other molecules. Light with the shortest wavelengths, blue, collides with the molecules of the atmosphere more because of its rapid oscillation and therefore is scattered the most. The rest of the light falls to Earth, but we see the scattered blue light.

Similarly, when the sun is setting, the light must travel through a greater amount of atmosphere to reach us because of its angle. By the time it reaches our eyes, even the low frequency wavelengths have been scattered and we see the orange and red light.

Fifteen: Feng Shui

I rewarded myself for finishing my organic chemistry midterm by getting a library card and checking out two books on feng shui. Did you know that clutter makes you hold onto the past? If you're having trouble letting go of the junk in your house, try writing a list of your future goals; it will help you move on.

Postcards

A heart isn't a faucet

Thirteen: Stop

If there's anything that I took from high school relationships (or lack there of), it's that your heart isn't a faucet. You can't just turn it off with a quick flick of the wrist. You can't suddenly decide to stop caring about someone. And I think that's a good thing.

Lost

Sometimes
when
you
lose
things,
you
can't
get
them
back.

Space

Nine: Purgatory

"Space" in a relationship is Purgatory. It's waiting for judgment day in the fire of your own thoughts, hoping others are interceding for you.

Closed Communications

Gratitude

Seven: Thankful

I'm thankful for Rebekah Smith, who mirrors God in her love and creativity and led me to encounter God through art. She also loves paper cranes.
I'm thankful for my mom. Lately everyday brings me to the realization that she cares for me even more than I thought was possible the day before.
I'm thankful for my sister, who keeps me on my creative toes and still loves me when I lapse into nerdiness.
I'm thankful for Karen, who asks the hard questions and holds me when I cry.
I'm thankful for Janie, who is willing to hug me and lift me up in my cracked brokenness.

I'm thankful for the God of Wonders, who sits with me in laughter and tears, never olds a grudge in response to my belligerence, and leads me on to greater things each and every day.

On the heels of anger

Six: Hatred

Close on the heels of anger rides regret. It is self-hatred disguised as a conscience.

Five: Stones

I've become acquainted with unpleasant feelings this week. Loss. Grief. Hurt. They sit in my stomach like stones and roll around like disappointment and bad grades. It's the sinking feeling you get when you know you forgot something but you don't know what. This time though, it's something I remember the moment I wake up and each second I'm alone in my head.
Now, I've reached anger. And it's not like the rest. It burns in my jaw and between my eyebrows. It doesn't settle in my stomach but instead slides off my tongue. I can taste a hint of hatred on my lips and poor judgment slides down my throat.

Red on pages and foreheads