Some more words

Even in Los Angeles, this is a time of transition between seasons. You can't tell yet, but cooler weather is coming. The days are shorter, the nights are breezier.

They tell us an El Niño is coming, one that will bring rain. Lots of rain, and good news for the drought. I want to see the leaves change, but I know they won't anytime soon. Writing is hard, has anyone ever admitted that? My words are loud, obnoxious, and often don't make much sense. Some people's words flow, create a magical picture, and stick with you.

Over the years I've had to come to terms with my words. My words are clunky. My words will probably never be as nice as I want them too. That's just the way they come out. Really, I can't even write much of an academic paper, because my head gets lost in the ideas and it's a miracle if there's even a sensible conclusion by draft 3. Confused both college professors and TA's? High school teachers say no way? Check. Not in the Fault in Our Star-sy "my thoughts are constellations" way, cause that's just weird, but in the everything relates to everything else and did I consider every possibility kind of way.

But last night, something happened. I came to a conclusion about a book, somehow all those crazy ideas in my head make sense.

The book? Go Set a Watchmen.

All hesitations about Harper Lee aside (it would have been published posthumously anyway), this was a book that needed to be written. It needed to be read. Admittedly, it was clearly a draft. There were characters that didn't make much sense. But the two characters people snatched up the book for anyway were definitely there. Atticus and Scout. Atticus and Jean Louise, I should say. She's grown up now, all New York City-fied and grown up. It's not the Scout of To Kill a Mockingbird. Even more so, it's not the Atticus Scout remembers from To Kill a Mockingbird.

Real writers tell me paragraphs shouldn't be long. So here's a new one.

To be honest, I related so much more to the Jean Louise of Go Set a Watchmen. Her anger, her confusion, her fears, her reactions, her words, all of it. But at the same time, my favorite parts of the book were her childhood memories. Somehow, I wanted so desperately to be in the world of Scout, but understood Jean Louise better.

Immediately after the book came out, articles came by the dozen about the newly racist Atticus. He's not the Atticus of To Kill a Mockingbird, she couldn't have meant that! they said. They demanded to know how Harper Lee could betray them. But here's the thing.

The very reason why everyone was enraged at what happened in Go Set a Watchmen, is the very reason why everyone who loves Atticus should read it. You see, the rage you experienced while watching Atticus' new storyline unfold is the exact rage Jean Louis experiences. And the moment I realized that, I realized Harper Lee was a genius. Go Set a Watchmen wasn't meant to spark the racist debate, and it wasn't meant to ruin the Atticus of To Kill a Mockingbird. (And granted, it probably was never meant to be published at all...)

It's about humanizing Atticus.

Scout saw Atticus as a god of sorts, Jean Louis saw Atticus as a god of sorts. We see Atticus as a god of sorts. 

We don't want to accept the Atticus of Go Set a Watchmen, because, like Scout, he was perfect in our minds, and we don't want to ruin that picture. And rightly so. He's a revered and respected literary character for a good reason.

Here's the thing that happened to Scout: her conscious was Atticus' conscience. She had never thought for herself, and Atticus knew that.

In the words of her uncle:

"As you grew up, when you were grown, totally unknown to yourself, you confused your father with God. You never saw him as a man with a man's heart, and a man's failings... You were an emotional cripple, leaning on him, getting the answers from him, assuming that your answers would always be his answers... When you happened along and saw him doing something that seemed to you to be the very antithesis of his conscience - your conscience - you literally could not stand it. It made you physically ill. Life became hell on earth for you. You had to kill yourself, or he had to kill you to get you functioning as a separate entity." (pg. 265)

We can still respect Atticus, we can still even revere him to some degree. He's still one of the best characters literature has ever put forth. To Kill a Mockingbird will always be in my Top 10 books. But now, we can, as Jean Louise says, "welcome Atticus to the human race". We can understand him in To Kill a Mockingbird, in a context that is so much more healthy than what we all previously believed. Atticus isn't ruined, he's brought back down to earth. Atticus is still the same Atticus, and it's ok to love the Atticus in To Kill a Mockingbird more. I know I still do.

After being so conflicted and feeling a million emotions about this, I realized the literary world of Maycomb, Alabama, was so much more richer, so much more complex, so much more real.

No, I don't necessarily agree with everything she concludes in, and it's clear that this book was never fully developed.

But thank you, Harper Lee, for ruining Atticus.

Sometimes I remember I have a blog.

It feels weird to write in this space now... even reading old posts is weird. But I feel like writing something. So here you go, cyberspace.

So back at college I am. Sometimes, like today, I'll be walking back to my dorm and I'll realize... I'm in college. Oh. So this is my life. My life has never felt so much like my life before. This is my little slice of the world. An adventure. It feels pretty magical sometimes.

I like it here, you could say. I like it a lot. It's a funny thing going so far away. The only places I've ever lived are 2000 miles apart from each other.

Hello there, it's nice to see you again.

This is my favorite view on campus because I can see the mountains. Just thinking about them makes me happy. 

And them sometimes I feel like about is California this, California that. It's always been my happy place for some reason... a place I could adventure in.

It's still magical; maybe this slice of La Mirada has some not so adventure-worthy days, but I've come to learn that the best adventures aren't the ones you find in the storybooks. Those are good and right and fun but they just can't be. 

So between the fairy tale moments of the sunsets and 70 degree days, are the ones where I wonder what on earth I'm doing and if it's going to be worth it. When you realize the best adventures are the messy ones, you stop wishing for the fairy tale ones. 

Slowly, life becomes something I live, not something I watch. 

becoming.

so now that's it's almost 2015...

It's funny, because blogging used to be all the rage.

It was fun, you could tell what felt like the entire world your life.

But not that much has changed... I still can't think of a better name for this weird little space of mine that nobody reads.

Having lived in California now for exactly 3 months and 3 days, I can say I kinda like it here. A lot.

There's a little bit of everything.

Beaches: (This one isn't in LA)

Mountains:

Pretty sure Yosemite is the most beautiful place on this earth. 

And that's just a picture. 

Here's an LA beach:

No, I don't go to the beach every day.

Yes, it is always sunny in CA.

And this is what it looks like when a lot of people have a dodgeball tournament:

College is fun.

California 2013.

Some random mountains we flew over.

One of the views from our cabin.

Fireplace inside our cabin. It was pretty cold when we were there.

Heather!

Heather and JG on top of a very tall rock.

View from the very tall rock.

Cobbler I made in the dutch oven over the fire. It was yum. Peaches, blueberries, and strawberries. 

View on the way to General Sherman Tree.

The General Sherman Tree. Biggest tree in the world by mass. It's pretty big.

The road our cabin is on. It's all the way at the end. And out of focus Heather.

What's at the end of the road. Our address sign thingy, and our can. And a deck. The chair by the van is near the fire pit, which is out in front of our cabin.

There was plenty of darts. 

Our cabin. Sorry about the finger or something in the corner. The brown and green cabin is not owned by us. In fact, it is the governments and it is falling apart. There's a fridge inside, though! Heather and I were looking through the windows. 

On the way down. This just looked cool to me. Even though the grass is completely dead.

Probably more pics later. 

California Pictures - Ocean!

Oh, California, how I miss you.

This was the view off the back of our porch in Monterey. 

Just a little reminder. And "lay" is supposed to be "Play". Though, I don't think they'd want you laying in the fountain either. 

Mesmerizing plant collection: Photo #362

And guys, there was SUN at the ocean. I have never seen the sun in Monterey in all my many days and weeks there. And no, I don't know how that picture turned out like that. 

 Heather's  Molina face, apparently.

#363

Ah, Point Lopos. It's pretty awesome. CA has large kelp forests, if you couldn't tell. (All the brown stuff in the water is kelp)

Hello there! (Pic by Heather)

Troiopolis. It didn't last long. 

Oh, but Graceopolis did. Muahahhahahaha.