Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Back in the South!
When I took that first deep breath of wet, muggy, sweet Louisiana air, I felt at home. It was about 87 degrees and the humidity was 90%, and I've never felt better in my life! I missed my home state so much, I greedily gulped in that humidity as I made my way to claim the rest of my luggage. Just as soon as I had it all loaded, the Lord blessed us with a thunderstorm- the gully-washer variety that I think only occurs in the Deep-South. With each drop leading me home, a sense of calm and peace washed over me as the afternoon rain washed over the Louisiana countryside. Home is where the heart is, and I feel doubly blessed that home is where I lay my head now, too.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Bill Gates Tax Payments
In an interview with Larry King, Bill Gates admitted that he has paid over six billion dollars in taxes. SIX BILLION!!!!!!!!!!! That would be enough to give each person on earth a one dollar bill. That sum is staggering, almost incomprehensible. When I heard it, I immediately had the image of Gates traveling around with a huge sack of singles passing them out to every...single...person...on...earth! He said he is even in favor of estate taxes- which most wealthy people aren't a fan of at all- and having the top earners contribute even more in taxes than they already do. He favors having the rich pay in at a proportionate amount to those in the middle class, and not having the advantage of so many tax shelters. After hearing Gates speak for an hour, I like him more than I did before. He is surely a compassionate man, having established his foundation to give away almost all of his estate. His opinions on other issues suggest that he isn't as out of touch as one would expect the richest man in the world to be.
Chicago Architecture Series- Farnsworth House
While not located in the city of Chicago, Farnsworth House is close enough that I decided to include it in my series of posts. Located in Plano, Illinois, which is at the far western edge of the Chicago suburbs, the home was designed by Ludwig Mies van der Rohe for Dr. Edith Farnsworth. Farnsworth commissioned the house as a weekend retreat and chose as its location a site along the banks of the Fox River.
Mies van der Rohe finished his design for the home in 1947, in time for it to be included in the landmark exhibition of his work for the Museum of Modern Art in New York City. The cost of the home was to be close to $75,000, or around $1,000,000 in 2010 figures. Mies van der Rohe was both the architect and general contractor on the project, a situation that would ultimately lead to a nasty dispute with Dr. Farnsworth. The initial budget firgure was around $58,00 and ballooned to $75,000. Farnsworth and van der Rohe filed lawsuits against each other. The judge dismissed the suit brought by Farnsworth and ruled in favor of van der Rohe in his suit for payment of the budget overages.
The home itself is a lauded example of modernist architecture. The simple rectangular shape of the home seems rooted to the land it sits upon. The flow of the house parallels that of the river, with the terraces extending from the main structure downstream. The interior is a single uninterrupted space, save for two large wooden cabinet-type pieces. One is a wardrobe and the other houses the homes kitchen and toilet facilities. The floor-to-ceiling glass brings in the elements of nature that surround the home. The open space of modern exhibition halls served as a source of inspiration for Mies van der Rohe. The distinct steel slabs that formed the roof and floor sandwiched the wide open living space with its implied but not dictated areas for different activities. The home is open as a museum, and attracts many visitors and architecture enthusiasts each year.
Building on Broken Foundations: Introduction
The "broken" home is understood to be the home in which a single parent is raising a child. The term is most often applied to those homes of divorced parents, and even more specifically, the homes of those rather...how shall I put this...acrimonious splits. Children of parents who separate and split time between mother and father do not usually carry the stigma of being "broken" home children. Yes, I believe the term does carry certain stigmas and implications. I came to understand certain of these things at a young age when no child should be faced with such things. But then again, at what age is a child equipped to see the dissolution of his family foundation? That aside, I was quickly finding myself having to navigate in a new social structure. The looks from adults at my church and school were diferent. Those pitiful looks that I could never quite justify with my reality. Should I have been more sullen? I didn't know quite how to react at first. I began to understand that my sister and I were now "broken" home kids. I could gather what that meant on the surface, and knew that it was just sissy, mommy, and me from then on.
However, I didn't yet grasp the connotations the term brought with it. The implication that our home was somehow "broken" made me angry after I figured out what the term meant to those who used it in that certain way. The home my mother made for my sister and me was a joyous home. I did not say happy- I said joyous. Happiness is subjective to mood and circumstance. We had happy times and sad times. Sadness was the sometime result of my natural longing for my absent father; that fact is undeniable. Those emotions would bubble to the surface every now and again, and were a constant undercurrent of my mental and emotional state. It didn't manifest itself in constant or even prolonged periods of moping around or self-pity. For one thing, my mother didn't allow it. She taught me that things happen for a reason, and tried, best as she could, to help me work through the grief and anger.
Our home was joyous because of the unshakable faith my mother possessed. She passed that faith on to me and my sister through our formative years and the events that would shape my childhood and adolescence. Through the myriad trials of raising two children by herself, my mother was my rock. She had to fill the position my father had left empty. She had to balance her unconditional love with the challenge of fulfilling the role of disciplinarian to a growing boy. This task was the hardest task she faced, I think. She was both "good" cop and "bad" cop. Despite the hardships of her single-parenthood, she made our home joyous. We were very close and she made love and affection a theme of our home. I never viewed it as "broken."
I did realize that our home was incomplete. With each passing year, my father's absence became more glaring. His dereliction of duty began to resonate more loudly with me. My mother would work harder each year to make up for this deficiency. She could sense that I, as a person and a young man, became more and more incomplete with the passage of time. She tried to fill each role my father did not. This was done at varying levels of success. In discipline, she succeeded- but only because we were so close. To know that I had let her down in any way was a knife to the heart. I would melt at the sight of her tears. To be a source of pain to this woman who was sacrificing her life to enrich mine, had a more profound effect than any of her attempts at corporal punishment. The one thing lacking in her discipline was the taming of my spirit. A young man needs a man to come up against him to tame and temper his spirit whenever he becomes unruly. I had no male to balance out the strong masculine spirit I was developing. No woman can adequately discipline a young man once he reaches a certain level of his development in manhood. The feminine cannot corral the masculine.
In her attempts to be a partaker in "manly" activities, she was a true gamer. She would toss the football with me, but she threw like a girl. At night, I would weep over the fact that she would even try. She would work all day, often working heavy overtime, and come home to cook and clean and...engage me in my interests in "guy" things? I will always fondly remember each wobbly pass she threw my way and each time she shot hoops with me, and how she made it to everyone of my ballgames that she could. She made a conscious effort to fulfill needs she knew I had. She was teaching me about true love- laying down your life for others. She was teaching me about sacrifice. She was teaching me about being a man. Still, it was a duty that she could never fully complete. God did not intend for her to have to even try, but my how she did. I love her deeply for her efforts in this area.
The incomplete nature of my childhood home is my broken foundation. All across America, young men and women face the same challenge I faced: how do we build upon our broken foundations? Is it possible to successfully build sound lives on broken foundations? How do we mend the cracks and crevices that plague our society's foundation? Knowing what to add to your foundation, and when, is the key to successfully building on broken foundations. Through this process, the incomplete nature of the individual can be made whole. When individuals are healed, homes can be healed. As this happens, the fabric of our society can be strengthened.
However, I didn't yet grasp the connotations the term brought with it. The implication that our home was somehow "broken" made me angry after I figured out what the term meant to those who used it in that certain way. The home my mother made for my sister and me was a joyous home. I did not say happy- I said joyous. Happiness is subjective to mood and circumstance. We had happy times and sad times. Sadness was the sometime result of my natural longing for my absent father; that fact is undeniable. Those emotions would bubble to the surface every now and again, and were a constant undercurrent of my mental and emotional state. It didn't manifest itself in constant or even prolonged periods of moping around or self-pity. For one thing, my mother didn't allow it. She taught me that things happen for a reason, and tried, best as she could, to help me work through the grief and anger.
Our home was joyous because of the unshakable faith my mother possessed. She passed that faith on to me and my sister through our formative years and the events that would shape my childhood and adolescence. Through the myriad trials of raising two children by herself, my mother was my rock. She had to fill the position my father had left empty. She had to balance her unconditional love with the challenge of fulfilling the role of disciplinarian to a growing boy. This task was the hardest task she faced, I think. She was both "good" cop and "bad" cop. Despite the hardships of her single-parenthood, she made our home joyous. We were very close and she made love and affection a theme of our home. I never viewed it as "broken."
I did realize that our home was incomplete. With each passing year, my father's absence became more glaring. His dereliction of duty began to resonate more loudly with me. My mother would work harder each year to make up for this deficiency. She could sense that I, as a person and a young man, became more and more incomplete with the passage of time. She tried to fill each role my father did not. This was done at varying levels of success. In discipline, she succeeded- but only because we were so close. To know that I had let her down in any way was a knife to the heart. I would melt at the sight of her tears. To be a source of pain to this woman who was sacrificing her life to enrich mine, had a more profound effect than any of her attempts at corporal punishment. The one thing lacking in her discipline was the taming of my spirit. A young man needs a man to come up against him to tame and temper his spirit whenever he becomes unruly. I had no male to balance out the strong masculine spirit I was developing. No woman can adequately discipline a young man once he reaches a certain level of his development in manhood. The feminine cannot corral the masculine.
In her attempts to be a partaker in "manly" activities, she was a true gamer. She would toss the football with me, but she threw like a girl. At night, I would weep over the fact that she would even try. She would work all day, often working heavy overtime, and come home to cook and clean and...engage me in my interests in "guy" things? I will always fondly remember each wobbly pass she threw my way and each time she shot hoops with me, and how she made it to everyone of my ballgames that she could. She made a conscious effort to fulfill needs she knew I had. She was teaching me about true love- laying down your life for others. She was teaching me about sacrifice. She was teaching me about being a man. Still, it was a duty that she could never fully complete. God did not intend for her to have to even try, but my how she did. I love her deeply for her efforts in this area.
The incomplete nature of my childhood home is my broken foundation. All across America, young men and women face the same challenge I faced: how do we build upon our broken foundations? Is it possible to successfully build sound lives on broken foundations? How do we mend the cracks and crevices that plague our society's foundation? Knowing what to add to your foundation, and when, is the key to successfully building on broken foundations. Through this process, the incomplete nature of the individual can be made whole. When individuals are healed, homes can be healed. As this happens, the fabric of our society can be strengthened.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Chicago Architectural Series- Chicago Public Library
The first public library building in Chicago was actually built and designed by a Boston firm, Shepley, Rutan & Coolidge, in 1897. The ornate interiors feature mahogany doors, bronze railings and framings, pink and green marble, white Carrara marble, intricate tile work, and romanesque touches, and two glass domes. One of the domes is the largest Tiffany glass dome in the world. This masterpiece features more than 30,000 pieces of glass covering over 1,000 square feet. This spectacular dome bathes the Preston Bradley Hall with natural light. The coffered ceilings, grand staircases, and gleaming marble surfaces make this building a true gem of the architectural world. The building is now the Chicago Cultural Center, a museum and special events center, as well as a visitor center.
Detail of the Tiffany dome.
This is a detail of the intricate tile work of the Library floor.
Chicago Architecture Series- United Terminal O'Hare Airport
The United Terminal at O'Hare Airport was designed by world-renowned architect Helmut Jahn. The process of its construction took place from 1985-1988. The terminal has an airy, open quality that is refreshing, and stands out from the usual claustrophobic nature of many airport interior spaces. Jahn made great use of functional elements that also stand out as design highlights. The highlight of the terminal is the long tunnel passengers travel down through a kinetic light and sound sculpture.
Chicago Architecture Series- Union Station
Union Station was first constructed in 1881. The station in its current state was designed by Daniel Burnham, the noted Chicago architect. The beaux-arts style new Union Station was opened in 1925. The centerpiece of the terminal is the 110-foot high "Great Hall." With ornate flourishes and soaring columns, this space manages to be both intimate and overwhelming simultaneously. The enormous wooden benches in the Great Hall are a welcome resting spot for the 54,000 weary passengers that pass through Union Station everyday.
Stormy weather...
What a stormy Memorial Day in the Midwest. Rain here in the Chicago area is putting a damper on the Memorial Day ceremonies and celebrations. Into each life some rain must fall: and when it does rain, let us appreciate it. Rain is cleansing. The washing it provides cannot be achieved any other way- God is so smart. Nature needs the nourishment the rain provides. Rain is cooling. Sitting outside watching the rain fall and enjoying the cool breeze is such a pleasure. The air hung damp and warm, like a steamy fog. Still and dense, it was stifling. Then the wind began to stir, and the harbingers of the approaching thunderstorm began to fall, here and there, on the street and cars passing by. Soon the skies had opened up, and the thick blanket of stagnant air had been transformed into a vibrant swirl of cooling jets of air, fragrant with the scent of the new rain.
How I love the stormy times when the thunder cracks like a mighty oak falling down after two-hundred years of growth. That sound is unmistakable. Like a giant bull-whip careening through the clouds, lashing out at them and emptying them of their precious precipitation. The pyrotechnic display of the lightning is awe-inspiring as it races down to scorch the earth and then, just as fast, is gone again leaving only its brilliant outline for us to see. If the stormy times seem to be an inconvenience, think back to times of drought and famine and imagine how inconveniencing that would be. If it's storming where you are, don't run inside and ride it out; sit amidst the wonder of the greatest show that the Creator performs for us. He pours down His blessings, and after He is done, He wraps the sky in colors- a reminder that He will never let the stormy times overwhelm us again.
Memorial Day
Memorial Day is a day that we set aside to honor those veterans who have fought and died in service of their country, those who have fought and lived to return home, and those that are currently fighting. The ceremonies and parades and tributes we hastily take part in on this day before we hurry off to our barbeques will not mean much unless we live our lives in a fashion that will give meaning to their deaths and sacrifices. So, before we kick-off our summer season of fun in the sun, let's all take time to contemplate what these brave men and women have provided for us, and at what cost. And then let us determine to live a life that will honor their actions much more than any solemn ceremony or patriotic parade ever could.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Thank you...
Thank you. Such a simple phrase of just two small words, but it conveys so much emotion. Gratitude is only the first feeling it can begin to convey. Acknowledgment of the good done by someone else is key to keeping harmony in interpersonal relationships. No one can grow unhappy as fast as someone who feels unappreciated. Respect is another element of thank you. Verbally saying it or taking time to write down words of thanks is a sign of respect towards the other party. A person who has respect will always be a grateful person.
Honor is something we convey in our expressions of gratitude. Making sure that anyone who does us a service is a recipient of our honor is a sign of maturity. Honor is a way of gaining access. Honor opens doors, not sycophantic brown-nosing, but genuine thoughtfulness. A wise person will be able to determine who is just a servile flatterer, and who exhibits authentic honor. Wisdom is also a part of saying thank you. The great leader was first a great servant. A great servant is one who can display grace under fire, and heart-felt thankfulness. Wisdom cannot be achieved without recognition of wisdom in others, and the pursuing of that wisdom. Thank you opens doors. Again, thank you is an access granter. An unthankful person is almost always a foolish person. Ignorance may cause a lack of recognition, but chronic failure to be thankful is a mark of the fool.
Maturity can manifest itself in our ability to honor. A child can show basic thankfulness when something is done for them in an outright fashion. The ice cream cone, the birthday or Christmas gift, or the new bicycle will all probably cause a reaction of thank you. However, their limited knowledge and lack of wisdom will fail to see the opportunity for thank you when daddy comes home late from work. The child will many times only register disappointment that he wasn't there to play catch, and miss that he was providing for them all the while. How we as mature people must separate ourselves is to be on the lookout for these opportunities. This will show our wisdom, our honor, our respect, our leadership, our maturity, and our gratitude.
Honor is something we convey in our expressions of gratitude. Making sure that anyone who does us a service is a recipient of our honor is a sign of maturity. Honor is a way of gaining access. Honor opens doors, not sycophantic brown-nosing, but genuine thoughtfulness. A wise person will be able to determine who is just a servile flatterer, and who exhibits authentic honor. Wisdom is also a part of saying thank you. The great leader was first a great servant. A great servant is one who can display grace under fire, and heart-felt thankfulness. Wisdom cannot be achieved without recognition of wisdom in others, and the pursuing of that wisdom. Thank you opens doors. Again, thank you is an access granter. An unthankful person is almost always a foolish person. Ignorance may cause a lack of recognition, but chronic failure to be thankful is a mark of the fool.
Maturity can manifest itself in our ability to honor. A child can show basic thankfulness when something is done for them in an outright fashion. The ice cream cone, the birthday or Christmas gift, or the new bicycle will all probably cause a reaction of thank you. However, their limited knowledge and lack of wisdom will fail to see the opportunity for thank you when daddy comes home late from work. The child will many times only register disappointment that he wasn't there to play catch, and miss that he was providing for them all the while. How we as mature people must separate ourselves is to be on the lookout for these opportunities. This will show our wisdom, our honor, our respect, our leadership, our maturity, and our gratitude.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Chicago Architecture Series- Millenium Park
Millenium Park has, in just a few short years, become a Chicago landmark. Completed in July 2004, construction began in the late 1990's. The corner that the park now occupies was once an eyesore. A railyard that lay unused for years would soon become a Chicago icon.
Millenium Park features some great architecture and landscaping. The main features of the park mix both modern and classical influences. Anish Kapoor's Cloudgate sculpture, affectionately called the "Bean" by Chicagoans, is the anchor of the park. The most popular attraction in the park is a wonder to behold. Reflecting the city skyline and the surrounding features of the park, the Bean is a gleaming example of a modern-art masterpiece.
The classical element of the park takes its form in the monument at the northwest corner of the park. The peristyle is a popular place for pictures, and the fountain makes it a beautiful spot.
Millenium Park hosts a variety of concerts in the Frank Gehry-designed Pritzker Pavilion. The sweeping, curving elements of this groundbreaking design capture the attention from anywhere in the park. The so-called "great lawn" provides the ideal place for picnics and lazy afternoons spent lying on your favorite blanket, reading a book or just soaking up the warm summer sun.
The other fun summertime Millenium Park activity is splashing around in the Crown Fountain. These towers of refreshment project images of local Chicagoans that change at random. Children and adults of all ages enjoy the cooling jets of water that shoot out from the "mouths" of the images that appear on the tower.
The serpentine pedestrian walkway over Columbus Drive is another of the sleek, modern elements of the park's design. The bridge looks like a giant stainless steel snake coiled up over the street and spilling into the park. This convenient feature provides direct access to the lakefront from Millenium Park.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)