Autumn

Fall. There's something about the sun rising in the morning in the peak of autumn when all of the trees exhibit their glorious colors. It makes me want to just sit and bask in the beauty displayed before my eyes. It is the awe-inspiring beauty of autumn that God has so graciously given us. Don't let it pass you by. Take the time to drink it in.

Chameleon or Complexity?

I was talking last night with a close friend of mine about the phenomenon of code switching, and it led us to an interesting correlation. Code switching is a linguistics term used to describe the process of moving between variations of language in different contexts. My friend, whom I will refer to here as C, used the example of accent or vernacular variations in language based on location. For example, the way an American in Florida speaks is different (in accent and language) from the way one speaks in New York. He explained that if a person from somewhere down south, such as Florida, were to move to somewhere more northern, like New York, they would after a short while adopt the accent or vernacular language of New York while they were there; However, the minute you place that person back into the context of their hometown in Florida, they would instantly switch back to the vernacular of which they were raised. Code switching. When C explained this example to me, I immediately saw a correlation between this phenomenon and an aspect of my life.

A recently occurring theme in my life has been that I am reconnecting with a lot of old friends - people that I haven't seen in years. It is through this reconnecting that I have realized something about myself (which I now see has always been a part of who I am), and upon this realization, I felt a little bit uneasy. I wasn't sure if it was a good thing, or not. What I realized, and what C helped me to process through, was that I have a lot of friends, and they are all very, very different. It is not the differences of these friends that made me uneasy, but rather how I, myself, respond to these differing personality types. I realized that I am not the same person I am with one friend as I am when I am with another. Not only is my language a little different with each one, but it seems as though my personality changes also. Sometimes, I noticed, it seems as though I am so different when I am with one friend than I am with another that if I ever were in the same room with the both of them, I wouldn't be sure how to respond. It would be like trying to mix oil with water. My conversation with the first friend would completely bore the other friend, while my conversation with the second would be way over the head of the first, in a language of which is not understandable to them. I wouldn't know what to say, or who to be, in a room with the both of them together. I would constantly be code-switching, confusing the both of them at each turn. They probably would wonder why I was being so different.

I was troubled upon this realization as I pondered the reason for such behavior. Was I changing due to peer pressure for fear of not being accepted? Changing the color of my skin, as a chameleon would, so that I blend into my environment for fear of standing out? I certainly hoped that this wasn't the driving force of my actions. In fact, I hoped it so much so, I realized that if peer pressure was already such a deep concern within me, how could it be the underlying reason for my actions? If I truly was so against conforming to peer pressure, then I couldn't have subconsiously done so, right? I would have caught myself early on hypocritically going against my own beliefs, and put an end to it, I'm sure. So what is the real reason, then?

I tried to think deeper, examining myself closely. What is it that's going through my mind when I meet with an old friend that causes me to change myself a little bit according to their personality? Finally, I realized, it is not out of the yearning for their acceptance that I do so, but it is more so for my concern that they feel accepted in my presence. I change my speech and personality, in context of various relationships, so that I create a safe place, a comfortable environment, for that person to speak in. I want them to feel comfortable talking with me; so what better way is there to do so than to speak their language? Code-switching.

Though this brought clarity to my honest intentions and good reason for "code switching", I wasn't entirely convinced that it was healthy. I asked C, "So, if I'm a different person in context of the people I'm with, am I staying true to myself? If I'm a different person in different environments, than who is the real me? Am I not being myself by constantly code-switching?" Much to my surprise, C had an immediate answer for me. He explained that he had also found himself in the same situation, and actually went through a similar process, struggling to define a clear reason for the drastic changes, and pondering the thought of peer pressure. But, he came to a conclusion, and explained to me his answer (which I would quote if I could remember it precisely, as he is very well-spoken). He believed that it is not that you "code-switch" so that you might fit in and be accepted by a group of people or an individual, but it is more so that that individual brings out different aspects of your personality. Therefore, you're not abandoning who you really are as a person by "changing" slightly when you are in the presence of varying personalities, but rather, it is those varying personalities that bring out specific aspects of the "complexity" of your own personality, the complexity of who you are. I was in awe at the concept of his answer, and how well it made clear sense. It was brilliant.

We began to talk about the subject more in depth, and I learned that he could completely relate to me when it comes to two friends bringing out such different personalities in ourselves that we couldn't possibly have the two meet and be together with them. It would be a far too awkward, and perhaps even offensive or confrontational situation. It was then that I realized that there are (very generally spoken) two types of people: people that code-switch, and people that do not; and two people of very different beliefs, backgrounds, and personalities, that do not code-switch are not likely to be friends, and would never get along. However, one person that does code-switch could get along with anyone they choose, and two people that code-switch can have the most open and personal of relationships. This is because when the two code-switchers meet, their primary goal (subconsiously) is to create a safe environment for the other and do everything within their ability to make the other feel the most accepted and most comfortable. It is then that the two code-switchers can have the most personal of relationships because there is no fear of being judged on either side; therefore, each person has the freedom to express every aspect of the complexity of their personality as they please (rather than having to accentuate only a few aspects of their personality). Consequently, the two have the freedom to be completely natural - to resond without concern, to each topic of conversation, each detail of the other's personality, as freely and comfortably as possible because each of them have created a safe environment in which the other can speak.

Also, not surprisingly, while talking with C, I realized that this is the type of friendship that we have between us. Both of us are code-switchers; both of us work to create an environment for the other in which the other can speak freely, without judgement, being fully accepted. Needless to say, there are many things that I can talk about with C that I could not talk about with those around whom I must code-switch. I don't see this as a bad thing, but rather just an interesting aspect of humanity.

It wasn't until the next day that I realized that this concept of "code-switching" has a direct correlation to the physics of music and sound, and also to the spirit, which I will explain in my next entry.

C, if you are reading this, thanks again for your friendship. Many times, I benefit from our conversations more than you may know.

Text Portrait

This is the most recent assignment that was due in Digital Foundations class. It was fun yet challenging, as I messed up twice and had to completely start over both times. Nevertheless, it was quite the learning experience, and I'm glad I had the chance to learn how to do it.

I chose that particular font because I thought that it would well represent my curly hair (which is a key part of my identity... I think, anyway).

Second Grid

This is another grid for class. This one is getting printed off and turned in. I wanted to print the previous one, but we are required to turn in a square grid. I definitely don't like this one as much as the first, but it will do. :)

Recent Works: Business Cards

These are some business cards that I designed for Mike's business. I had fun. Any thoughts?

Brad's card was a bit more complicated than Mike's.

Animoto.com

Simplicity.

When I was growing up, my house was in front of 2 acres of woods and a big overgrown field that was great for any type of game or sport you could think of. There was a fence that lined the south side of the woods, and on the other side of it was another field that was abandoned and overgrown. My mom always said that I wasn't allowed to go on the other side of the fence... but one day, I did, and I hopped the fence to discover a huge pile of different kinds of used old tires. "WOE! That's so cool!" It made the coolest place to build forts and obstacle courses, as long as you didn't mind the bugs and getting dirty.

I loved going to the pile of tires. I could stay there for hours, with or without friends, building things and discovering fun things to do with old tires. It was truly a care-free time in my life. I wasn't concerned about anything. I didn't have any responsibilities other than getting home in time for dinner. I didn't have to worry about school, or work. The only concern I had was just to make sure I didn't hurt myself... and even that I only cared about to a certain degree.

Growing older, graduating highschool, entering college, and considering marraige has made me think a lot about these memories... memories of times in my life of care-free simplicity.

Thinking about these times has made me realize that the older you get, the harder it gets - and there's no going back to when it was easier.

I remember thinking when I was younger that everything would be so much better when I got older because I wouldn't have rules anymore. I grew up to find out that I wasn't entirely correct.
Each year, if not each day I got older, more responsibilities were added to my life. It's like learning to drive. I remember thinking that I couldn't wait until I could drive so that way I wouldn't have to ask my mom's permission to go places. Then I got my license and I wanted a car. But guess what had to happen before I could get that car... I needed a job. More complication and stress was added to my life. The same was with all other growth points. I thought that after I graduated highschool, things would be better... but again, I was wrong. College ended up to be a rather rude awakening, and added even more responsibility and stress to my life. I thought that things would be better if I had a boyfriend... after a few heartbreaks, I learned that this wasn't always the case. More stress and complications were added to life.

Sometimes I get so stressed out that I wish I could just go back to that abandoned field with the pile of tires, and build myself a little hide-away back in the woods somewhere. Do you ever feel that way?

Several years ago, the property where the woods and tires once were was bought, and a housing development was built in its place. It really sadened me as I watched them tear down the trees each day that I came home from school, even though I was a teenager and really didn't go back there much anymore. It was just depressing to think that I couldn't go back there to relive those memories of a stress-free time. My child-like faith believed that those woods would always be there, so that when I had children of my own, I could take them there - to grandma's house - so they could play, learn, and create in the same woods that I did as a child.

Sometimes I wish that I could make life simpler... but I have realized that the best way for me to "get over" life's stresses, is to look toward the positive aspects of the future. Even though I am sure that life will only get harder as relationships grow and responsibilities grow in number, I can choose to not worry about it. I can choose to not let stress get the best of me.

Perhaps simplicity is a choice.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WtwGyxzxBDg

Fire

Several nights ago I was sitting in the backyard around a campfire with some friends. Ever notice how when there's a camp fire infront of you, something about it just puts you in a trance? I took a second to look up at everyone else... everyone was in a deep stare at the flames. Why do we watch it so intently? What are we thinking while we're looking at it?

I began to think about the irony of how a fire, like a camp fire, can be helpful to a person in that it keeps them warm, perhaps cooks food, or provides light. However, at the same time, fire is a powerful, dangerous, deadly thing that can hurt just as much, if not more than it can help.

Children around a campfire are one of the greatest reminders about the power and pain of fire. I swear my pulse doubles in speed when there's a toddler wandering around and there's a campfire nearby. This beautiful, useful, helpful thing could cause so much pain to this naive child, and everyone that's emotionally connected to the child.

But not only can fire cause pain when it's touched by a human hand, it can completely destroy a whole forest in just minutes. Fire can turn into an uncontrollable monster that will quickly devastate a city.

Is fire something that should be feared? This thing that's become a sort of backyard summer tradition? A tool of human technoloy? Certainly, it should at least be understood and respected.

I tend to lean toward the fear end of the spectrum... yet, the beauty and the utility of it draws me towards awe each time I encounter it.

http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/lanow/2009/09/guiberson-fire-3.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fire

Hypocrisy

Hypocrisy. Something I'm tired of, yet equally guilty of.

All these Christians that preach Jesus... do they walk it?

I'm sick of judgemental Christians. Did Jesus judge? The one who all "Christians" follow and try to be like?

"For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him." -John 3:17

Why can't Christians do that?

Remember the woman caught in adultery? When she was brought to Jesus, he didn't confront her about her sin and demand that she turn from her evil ways. He simply said, "Go and sin no more." He didn't disown her. He didn't punish her. He just spoke the truth and sent her away. He forgave first and foremost.

Why do Christians feel they need to condemn others about what they do when Jesus, the one who has all the right in the universe to do so, didn't. Humans have no right to judge, and I'm tired of seeing it in churches.

Ghandi saw this concept early on.

He heard about Jesus, was intrigued, and wanted to follow. It wasn't until he came upon the doors of a church, and was denied by a "greeter" at the door. Ghandi wasn't allowed in because of the color of his skin. Would Jesus do that?

One of the greatest philosophers in world history wanted to follow Jesus... and a bunch of "Christians" - the term that so conveniently means "little Christ" or "Christ-like" - shut him out. Ghandi was innocent, yet judged, and unwelcomed.

When asked why he so often quoted Jesus but refused to become a follower, Ghandi spoke the famous words: "Oh, I don't reject your Christ. I love your Christ. It's just that so many of you Christians are so unlike your Christ."

Hypocrits. Look at what we have done. Look at what we missed. One of the most intellectual, philosophically powerful men in all history could have been on your side... but you blew it.

And though this story is told over and over, nothing seems to change. It's been nearly 100 years since the happening, yet the same thing still continues. Hypocrisy. Sickening.

I guess we can't learn from our mistakes as easily as I thought.

"Christians" continually push people away from the Lord by their actions - by how they treat others, by how they live. When you're life is ugly and you're labeled Christian, people don't want to share that label with you.

How can we fix it? I don't know if we can. In fact, I know that we can't.

Lord, help us.

Ghandi's experience with Christian hypocrisy:

http://jmm.aaa.net.au/articles/552.htm

Self.

I don't really like talking about myself much, but in order to give you insight into who I am, I digress.

http://s88.photobucket.com/albums/k174/nae_artistic/Bike%20Trip%20to%20Maumee%20Bay/

Name


My name is Renae Marie Horn. I abnegate my last name however, because of the way my father has treated my mother, my brother, and myself. Never have I had a good relationship with him, and therefore, I anxiously await the day I can legally exchange his name for someone else that loves me more than he ever did.

Love

I love art, painting, photo, music, coffee, beaches, water, rain, nature, God, beauty, my boyfriend, learning, creating, building, laughing, dancing, the smell of spring, the colors of fall, reading, insense, people watching, animal watching, thinking, inspiring others as well as inspiration, the sound of the ocean, yoga, jogging, biking, friends, trees, my brother, organic foods, dark chocolate, serving people in need, and I love love itself

History

My parents were divorced when I was 6 years of age, and though I visited my father twice to three times a week, he became absent from my life. In return, I grew up in a home, raised by my mother, as well as my brother actually, since he is 9 years older than me. I looked up to my brother as though the words he spoke were truthful religion. He was the only stable figure I had to look up to growing up. My mother had been so damaged by my father that she herself is somewhat unstable.

I was raised in a Christian home, school, and church. You'd think I'd be you're stereotypical "goody-two-shoes"... think again. It wasn't long before there came a season of rebellion from all that I had been taught. I became very "punk rock" and cut my hair short - I spiked it, then later dyed it purple.

I sort of fell away from Jesus during this period of time, but it was only a few years before I came crawling back to him. I didn't change who I had become, however. I knew the Lord accepted me for who I was, and loved me for being who he created me to be. I loved and served him with everything I had, and matured very quickly. I taught myself how to play guitar, and began to play for a worship team. I loved it.

But then came another season of rebellion. By this time, I was just entering highschool, and a man that I had a crush on invited me to his house church. I went, got hooked, and immediately plugged in, while at the same time still being stuck at my mom's church because she wanted me there. It didn't take long for me to realize that you can't have a foot in two boats... you'll end up in the water. I fought my mom, and fought my mom to let me leave Trinity and come to Bret's house church. It took her almost a year to finally let me go.

I stayed at the house church for the next year, while still attending highschool, and in the meantime, I fell in love with art and photography to add to my love of music. I built close knit relationships with the people in this church. One man in particular always seemed to be watching out for me, and we became very good friends. Michael. He helped me find my first car (as he is an experienced mechanic), he paid for meals for me when all of us would go out to eat, he would follow me home from work on really snowy days to make sure that I got there ok, he'd buy me starbucks - he was my friend, and one of the best at that. I felt that I could tell him anything and he would still accept me.

Then all of a sudden one day, after having a steady friendship for over a year, the way he treated me shifted a little bit. I noticed a change in the way he looked at me. Finally, it came out. Michael came over and picked me up to take me on a short ride. He told me that one morning he woke up and saw me differently - a good different. An attractive different. Needless to say, he asked if I'd like to further our relationship. I took a few days to sleep on it and think and pray about it. After all, Michael was 13 years older than me, and I was only 17. But how could I give up someone that I already knew so well? Why shouldn't I at least give it a try and see how it works out? Okay. I told him, "Yes".

When word got out to everyone else in the house church, it was like a grenade went off. Red flags came up everywhere. They advised us to take a week separate from eachother to fast and pray about whether we should continue or not. Without rebutle, we complied.

Towards the end of the week, it was getting tough. It was hard to just sit not knowing what the other was thinking. Michael couldn't wait any longer. He showed up at my house, brought me flowers, and took me away so we could talk alone. We discovered that we both still felt that we should be able to date.

Again, the church began to ask questions about our relationship and what we had decided. We told them our conclusion. They disagreed. It was such a sharp disagreement that the church asked Michael and I to leave. The church literally split in half after this happened. Half of the church thought the others were nuts for telling us what to do. The others believed they were right, and we were wrong. The hardest part about this was that Michael's own family was in there and on the disagreeing side. His own brother and sister shut the doors of their homes on him and told him he wasn't welcome unless he broke up with me and "set things straight". But Mike didn't do it. He stuck with me.

Today

And here we are, a year and a half later, still together enjoying eachother's company. Michael gave up his family for me... and I don't deserve it. To this day we still struggle with his family that disowned him... but on the optimistic side, things are getting better than they were.

I'm currently a student at the University of Toledo, studying business and communications, although I think that might change. I spend my days pondering love, life, and the Lord, and holding Mike's hand.