Thursday, July 24, 2014

What I'm Thinking About: A Pictography

David Foster Wallace. One of my favorite authors right now. Tragically ended his life in 2009 with no answers to a lot of questions he left for the rest of us.
This guy. The one on the left. We have been married a decade and sometimes I think the only thing I am sure of in life is that I want him next to me. Giving me all the answers or just sitting with his mouth shut. I wouldn't trade him for all the agreeable, affable, easy going, middle of the road guys in the world. His wild heart has captured mine in a way that I never want to live without. Knowing that someone could love me this way answers a lot of my middle school diary musings. I can't wait to teach Purslane and Knox that someone out there will be worth giving up all the other boys and girls for.

These kids. Being their Mama is one of my greatest joys and biggest challenges. How to raise them, love them, nurture them, teach them, discipline them. Obviously encouraging them to read good books isn't a problem.

Friendships. Particularly with other Mamas who aren't afraid to talk about the times when life isn't roses. Sometimes it's just messy and trying to find the right stick for roasting marshmallows. This one is a gem. And looks that good after a hike behind the waterfall.

Mortality. I feel like the 30s is the decade where you realize that you aren't impenetrable to life's ups and downs. This is a card I drew for a friend of mine after a prostate cancer scare. Hallmark didn't have anything that said what I wanted, so I made my own.

Place. Particularly my place, which happens to be Pittsburgh at the moment. Some days I feel stuck and some days I feel like the luckiest girl around. I feel like I keep asking the wrong question, which is "can I be myself here?". I feel like maybe the better question is "who am I here?". Because we should allow our place to change us.

Me. Christy. I have been thinking an obsessive amount about my identity and feeling very typical as I process what it means in this season as I find my place primarily in relation to my young children. Things I have gained insight from to assist in this process: Grant. Daily prayers and rhythms of liturgical Christian life. Book Club with 9 other fascinating women. Base embodied practices such as eating real food. Community. Writing words and listening to songs.



  1. This is one of my favorite essays, which seems to have nothing to do with David Foster Wallace and then, the way feels do, sneakily becomes more and more about him:

    1. My only complaint about you sharing this fantastic essay with me is that you didn't find a print copy, cut it out with a pair of rusty scissors and put it in the mail to me.

  2. The truth will set you free. But not until it is finished with you. -DFW

  3. Replies
    1. Thanks. :) I actually sent it to his wife, who is a dear friend of mine and assured her it was just a rough sketch of a generic penis and not to cause offense with scale or aesthetics.