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The guiltiest guilty pleasure: Laguna Beach

I watched season 1 religiously, season 2 not so much and frankly, season 3 basically sucks. Bad habits die-hard though, because I'm sitting in my mom's bedroom after eating sushi watching repeats of season 3 episodes.

The greatest thing about a laptop is that when a song you like comes on tv you can google it immediately and download it. Ah the magic of music.

There's this movie I'm going to watch in my photography class about a percussionist who is deaf. How incredible is that! Oh and also, we're watching another movie about a blind photographer. There definitely has to be something to learn about that.

Yesterday was my first photography class. It was good. But there's so much out there that I have no clue how I'm going to manage to keep my heart clean.

You see, the thing about photography, good photography at least, is that it tells you something. A good photograph has the power to touch your soul because it tells you something. Most photographers, most artists in general (I'm going out on a limb here, I'm generalizing, mostly speaking of mainstream artist) are people with an obscure past. They are hurting souls and their outlet, their inlet really... if there's even something called like that... is through their art. They can't touch their emotions because it would drive them crazy, so instead they create art and eventually end up crazy too... avoiding their broken hearts and desperate spirits.

People like their art because their own spirits recognize the spirit behind the piece of art, but ignorant to the spiritual world around us, they don't know it... be it a photography, a sculpture, painting, whatever. So it's hard for me to see pictures like those of Sally Mann for example, an amazing photographer I was introduced to yesterday and not be stirred inside, and not precisely in a good way. The photo I saw was of this girl, a young 10-year-old maybe, holding what appears to be a cigarette. Her eyes scream out to the world, asking why she had to grow up so soon, why she's being corrupted by those who should love her. Her sister on the side, her back to us, seems to be saying "whatever, it is what it is" and with detachment stares at her brother, climbing up on his own way on blurry stilts.

When I take pictures I want the Spirit of God to flow through me. I don't want nostalgic pictures that carry an air of bittersweet memories. I want love, passion, joy, mercy, grace, glory and power to flow through them. I want everything I do to overflow that.

It's amazing. Our God is amazing. My God is amazing. And I can't conceive a life without Him. And looking at those pictures, shattered pieces of people’s hearts splatter over my eyes while one by one I analyze the discourse behind it. And I truly wonder how on earth anyone can live without Him. I mean, life is as hard as it can be sometimes and I know better.

To touch Him, to be near Him, to know He' standing over you. Who can offer anything better than that? (Am I good at getting sidetracked or what?)

That's all on my mind right now, but I'm gonna stop now because my laptop's battery is almost over.