This summer another color dilemma rose to prominence on social media, the likes of which the internet hadn't experienced since the gold dress of 2015. A woman presented her "blue" couch and asked for some recommendations for other decor. The internet was quick (and kind) to point out that her couch was grey. Surely it's blue, she stated and provided other examples of blue items from her home. They were mostly grey. She took an online color blind test and filmed it. Many colors did not register in her rods and cones. She ended up getting her eyes professional tested to confirm color-blindness and was gifted a new blue couch. 

Gate A-4 by Naomi Shihab Nye 
​
​Wandering around the Albuquerque Airport Terminal, after learning
my flight had been delayed four hours, I heard an announcement:
“If anyone in the vicinity of Gate A-4 understands any Arabic, please
come to the gate immediately.”

Well—one pauses these days. Gate A-4 was my own gate. I went there.

An older woman in full traditional Palestinian embroidered dress, just
like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing. “Help,”
said the flight agent. “Talk to her. What is her problem? We
told her the flight was going to be late and she did this.”

I stooped to put my arm around the woman and spoke haltingly.
“Shu-dow-a, Shu-bid-uck Habibti? Stani schway, Min fadlick, Shu-bit-
se-wee?” The minute she heard any words she knew, however poorly
used, she stopped crying. She thought the flight had been cancelled
entirely. She needed to be in El Paso for major medical treatment the
next day. I said, “No, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just later, who is
picking you up? Let's call him.”

We called her son, I spoke with him in English. I told him I would
stay with his mother till we got on the plane and ride next to 
her. She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just 
for the fun of it. Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while
in Arabic and found out of course they had ten shared friends. Then I 
thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian poets I know
and let them chat with her? This all took up two hours.

She was laughing a lot by then. Telling of her life, patting my knee,
answering questions. She had pulled a sack of homemademamool
cookies—little powdered sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and
nuts—from her bag—and was offering them to all the women at the gate.
To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a
sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the mom from California, the
lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same powdered
sugar. And smiling. There is no better cookie.

And then the airline broke out free apple juice from huge coolers and two
little girls from our flight ran around serving it and they
were covered with powdered sugar, too. And I noticed my new best friend--
by now we were holding hands—had a potted plant poking out of her bag,
some medicinal thing, with green furry leaves. Such an old country tradi-
tion. Always carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.

And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and I thought, This
is the world I want to live in. The shared world. Not a single person in that
gate—once the crying of confusion stopped—seemed apprehensive about
any other person. They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women, too.

This can still happen anywhere. Not everything is lost.
“Gate A-4” from Honeybee.

It would be remiss to not mention, this week the brilliant poet Andrea Gibson died. Their work is extraordinary, with incisive, emotional rigor they presented experiential tableaus. ​

I read 100 books in the last three months, bringing the count for this year to 200. These eight books are the standouts for their ability to prompt thoughtful reflection about the role of the observant human in powerful systems. 

"A Different Kind of Power" by Jacinda Ardern stands apart as a memoir because of its precise balance of personal and professional narrative. Ardern credits working her editor to transfer her speech-writing skills into this format and the skillful handing of the prose is truly what makes this memoir distinct. 

"Death of the Author" by Nnedi Okorafor splices the protagonists life with excerpts from the book they are writing creating overlapping narratives that amplify and question each other. Every Okorafor book prompts different reflections about the role of technology, belief, and human suffering. This one continues exploring and pushing further discussion on these themes.

"The Book of Alchemy" (by) Suleika Jaouad. A collection of creative prompts with keen insights from a variety of authors. If you are uncertain about where your work is going next, I recommend working thru some of these prompts for some space. 

"The Lost Trees of Willow Avenue" by Mike Tidwell utilizes the hyperspecific locale of the authors home avenue to discuss climate change, illness, knowledge, and community action. 

While I fervently disagree with some of the examples used in "The Third Perspective" by Africa Brooke, that precisely gets to to the import of books like this which encourage varied response in the face of opinions that are counter to your worldview. 

I frequently run from devotionals, as they often contain theological points that are not aligned with my belief. And while navigating that nuance is a useful skill in public discourse, private practice can have distinct boundaries. I found "God Didn't Make Us to Hate Us" by The Rev. Lizzie McManus-Dail to be a notable encouraging exception. Progressive and anchored in the biblical text this devotional is a breath of fresh air. 

"Holy Hurt" by Hillary McBride PhD. is required reading for any woman in the church, anyone who loves a woman in the church, and any woman who has left the church. It gives clinical context and thus insight to lived church experience. 

I read "For Whom the Belle Tolls" by Jaysea Lynn after encountering her entertaining TikTok skits about the "Hellp Desk" (a customer service desk in Hell) and was truly delighted by the world construction of this book. Much of what the Contemporary West thinks about hell is derived from Dante's "Inferno". I wonder how much our cultural understanding will shift as a result of this new take on hell?

Honorable mentions: "The Filter Bubble" by Eli Pariser  
                                             "What We Talk About When We Talk About God" by Rob Bell

Review of first 100 books of the year can be found here. 

Mako has begun working in a sketchbook made by my father. He shares about the experince and we reflect on what it is to work with the maculate with community produced materials. This is a profound gift. 

I am privileged to be part of generative covid-conscious group comprised of mostly educators. Our group text is filled with proof of life texts in the form of all the growing things we notice in our respective places of residence. This is a global group, so missives from Australia look different than offerings from North America. That being stated, the differences impart wonder. What does it mean to engage with the other from a place of curiosity? How does this practice sustain? How might it be a path forward for our world? 

In addition to the beauty offered by the group text, I live in proximity to an educational garden, where myriad species are cultivated in distinctive ways: desert, jungle, rose, Japanese, Chinese, English. Allow me to share some of those delights with you here, in the form of little edits. Most are constructed using the unfold app and sometimes their templates. Using a template makes me think about the images differently, which is helpful in cultivating a flexible mind.

Congratulations Dr. Fujimura! Mako received an honorary doctorate from my alma mater Gordon College. The importance of an artist being granted this kind of degree is cannot be overstated. Mako has guided the Christian cultural conversation about art for decades and this acknowledgment proclaims that to an even larger audience. 
We talk about wonder and community, the interconnectedness of work and thought, and encourage others to make. 

Passing thru the lobby, I turned left and gasped as my eyes landed on an unexpected friend. There before me was a comforting and confronting Richard Serra steel form, Band. This continuous bended metal rests gently in the space, forming arcs and encouraging meanders. 

In this monthly conversation, Mako and I say things that you have likely heard us discuss before: artists as generous futurists, our ongoing studio work, and how things grow. Repetition of concepts allows for a different kind of conversation, it is the bolstering of ideas, the true formation of culture. 

I read 100 books in the first quarter of 2025. These non-fiction books stand out, as idea-shaping and insightful reflections on how humans navigate all manner of experience. Benjamin offers the clearest framework for a future I want to be a part of, while Duke gives some insight into how people move forward with uncertainty. Mabute-Louie offers a case study in community development and Nezhukumatahil reflects on the tastes that shape experience. I highly recommend reading these together, as the antidote to current chaos, as guideposts to positive inclusive action, as a constructive foundation for communal advancement. 

*I reviewed my first 50 reads here if you are interested in some other recommendations. 

Mako and I reflect on the importance of community, how planting flowers is a courageous act of patronage, and what it means to create in perilous times. 

Some books I would recommend as companions to this conversation are: 
Unreasonable Hospitality by Will Guidara
The Serviceberry by Robin Wall Kimmerer
Culture Care by Makoto Fujimura
Your Brain on Art by Susan Magsamen and Ivy Ross