anthropology

They call him Superman.

They also call him Tiger Woods in a Speedo, but I'm not sure what to do with that one.

He did amazing things. He did the impossible. (How did he win that 100 meter butterfly anyway?)

They call them the Golden Girls.

(And I don't think they mean four old ladies.) 

They haven't lost a game in over a year. That makes 108 straight sets. In a row. 14 consecutive Olympic matches. Two consecutive gold medals in volleyball. No one's done that before.

I can't remember if this is part three or part four, but I assure you it's the last part.

I didn't know what to expect when I began telling you my story. Your responses and support means a lot to me. One never knows if when one opens their mouth if it'll be like the talking stain from the Superbowl commercial. So thank you for your encouragement. I've needed it these days.

I left you yesterday at my mental breakdown of sorts. I said that I had tried to force the jigsaw pieces. That's not true. No, I hid pieces. They slid between sofa cushions, beneath the fridge, under the candy dish on the TV.

My jigsaw puzzle picture was incomplete.

Every Friday night, I went to the Dallas Symphony (the seminary provided free tickets through some donor or something). And every Friday night, I left full and empty at the same time. Full of music. Empty because it wasn't me anymore. I wasn't up there playing.

As I sit to write this, I don't know where it will go. I don't know how the threads of the story will weave. I admit, it'll be rough. But stick with me as we figure out from whence came this imaginative, female theologian who loves the arts and how she came to accept that.

Inspired by Christianne, I've been wanting to do a post about my journey to femininity (is that a word? and while we're on the subject, is it towards or toward?). I want to share how I came to be okay with being both feminine and theologian.

But then I questioned myself--is it a matter of being feminine and theologian? or is it a matter of being my personality type and theologian? Perhaps both. In fact, I suspect both.

Which begs the question, what does it mean to be feminine?

Without spoilers:

For Christmas, my mom gave me this handy-dandy froth maker. It's a small hand tool that whips milk into shape.

In other words, it makes ordinary coffee into a celebration.

When did we stop making our own froth? When did we come to depend on Starbucks?

You must realize by now that I'm not just talking java. I'm talking imagination.

When did we depend on others to imagine for us? When did we stop singing songs and writing poetry and sketching landscapes?