Sesame Street Live

We took the kids to see Sesame Street Live last week. They absolutely loved - the first ten minutes of it. We made it to the intermission then it was time for something new, like playing on the escalators. Next time I say we save the thirty bucks and head to the mall, where the escalators are free and a hot dog won't set me back a week's paycheck.

Do I sound like a grumpy dad or what?!

Mom's reading glasses

Getting ready to shoot

OK, no more rants today. Well, the day is still young.

I am super excited about my upcoming shoot tomorrow night for my new company. I'm shooting three different models from 3:30pm - 11pm in an old dance studio. I've also hired an art director who works as a fashion editor for a local fashion magazine. One shoot will be with a young model who works modeling clothing for the Home Shopping Network and is an aspiring actress. The second shoot will be with a musician/model and will be a dark and grainy, seductive-angry black and white scene. And the third shoot will be with a 6'1" international model doing a glamorous European-style shoot.

Be watching for the edited clips on my site in the days to come.

Seriously now

I am going to seriously lose it. I'm not joking. Someone has been sick in our house every day since at least Thanksgiving. Ian's finally home, but now Silvi has her fourth bout with a fever. And this morning I woke up with one.

What do we do?! Leave all the windows open and hope the Arctic air will kill whatever is living in our home?! Spray the place with ammonia!? Wear SARS protective gear all day?!

I'm about ready to check into a hotel for a the rest of this blasted winter.

Hospital - Day 6

Tick and a freaken' tock,
eyes upon the clock;
the tubes are out, and Ian's fine,
maybe home tomorrow if the doctor will sign;
no more oxygen, his stats are up,
milk for breakfast, sweet potatoes for sup;
he's bored to tears, his mom is too,
I need to clean the house, it looks like a zoo.

Hospital - Day 5

Ian has moved out of intensive care up to the sixth floor of Children's Hospital, which, I take it, is a good thing to have happen. He's still on fifty percent oxygen, but the doctor did say something to the effect of him coming home in the next few days.

Silvi is sleeping next to me as I type, lulled to sleep by her 538th viewing of Pee-Wee's Big Adventure. Tim Burton, you are one twisted individual, but you make my daughter laugh. "I know you are, but what am I."

Hospital - Day 4

Thanks, everyone, for the words of encouragement. Ian is starting to get that spark back in his baby blues. He's getting bored of sitting around all day and keeps staring down the hallway like he wants to make a break for it.

He's still on oxygen but down to fifty percent. Still in intensive care but hopefully will move today. Still on the nebulizer but only every six hours. Still hates all the wires plugged into his body but has stopped trying to pull them out.

Still waiting to hear when he might get sprung but resigned to spending the weekend there.

Hospital - Day 3

Silvi and I rang in the new year by falling asleep in my bed around 9:30. Annie spent the night at the hospital again. Ian was doing much better yesterday and they were able to turn his oxygen dependency from one hundred percent down to fifty percent. But I guess they had to turn it back up to a hundred percent last night again. Sigh.

So we wait. Happy New Year? I'll let you know in a few days...

Hospital - Day 2

It is pneumonia. And something else. Still not sure. Anyway, Ian was doing peachy until the afternoon when he tanked. Oxygen levels in the sixties. Lots of doctors scurrying. Couple shots of adrenaline and hours on the nebulizer. Ian turned into the Incredible Hulk, requiring four nurses to hold him down in order to poke him a few times to find his itsy bitsy teeny weenie veins for an IV.

He's in intensive care tonight so they can monitor him full-time. He was doing groovy when I left and Annie just called to let me know he's off the nebulizer. How he hates that contraption. Like Bush hates a two-part question.

Annie ran into a friend from our Down syndrome group; turns out her daughter has been there for nine days! Please, God, let that be the exception.

Hospital stay

Annie took Ian to the doctor yesterday to see how the antibiotics are helping his pneumonia. His oxygen levels were down around seventy percent so they sent him to Children's Hospital in an ambulance.

They've done a lot of tests on him and determined that it's not RSV and may indeed not even be pneumonia, but may be a virus and/or bacterial infection. He still needs constant oxygen to breath and they changed his antibiotic prescription last night. Annie stayed the night with him and Ian seems to be doing better today. He downed a bottle and a half of milk and is once again doling out his award-winning smiles.

Silvi and I will go visit in a bit; hope it's the last night he has to spend there. After all, I wouldn't want our cat thinking it's safe to sleep on the living room floor once again.

Merry hack, cough Christmas

We're all sick. Both kids have pneumonia; Annie and I have colds and fevers.

Christmas Eve Day and all four of us had fevers. Ian is doing the nebulizer every four hours. Two trips to Urgent Care. One trip for Silvi. Lots of lying on the couch and watching movies. Poor Ian is miserable.

That was also the day I shot a music video on three hours of sleep after Silvi had a reaction to cold medicine and spent the night tossing in our bed. I shot all day with 102 fever, then crawled into bed, aching. Had to skip the Christmas Eve party with my parents.

Christmas Day we made it to Annie's parents house - barely - and probably should have stayed home. Fevers and, well, you get the jest of it. Send Kleenex.

Yesterday I worked for five hours shooting for my new company, again with a fever. Salsa dancing and performance art.

Right now I'm down at my office, editing the music video, and yes, another fever. Wonder how it will affect the finished video? Did Lewis Carroll have a fever when he wrote Alice in Wonderland?

Beauty

I can't think of a better way to return to blogging than to begin with an image of my gorgeous daughter, Silvi.
She and I had a daddy-daughter date last night, going to our favorite place, The Global Market. Thursday nights are especially fun because they usually have live music, as they did last night. We always visit the fresh fish counter, look at the lobsters, eat Mexican tamales and rice and beans and spend time picking just the right sweets in the candy store. There's a mostly deserted hallway where we end up playing tag or stand on the walkway to watch the bicyclists pass below.

The last month and a half has been a walk through the refining fire. I'm not going to share here just yet - perhaps never - the details of my struggle. Suffice it to say that I am starting down a new path, one that I am ultra excited to be on.

I'm closing down my Narrow Ridge side business that focused on philosophy and training videos. In it's place I have created a new company called Latitude 81 (now Wanderview Films) that will work within the fashion and creative arts industry. I had my first shoot this past Tuesday night with a model that I hired to fashion various outfits. I haven't had a chance to edit the video yet, but you can find a sample of it here.

To switch from philosophy to fashion may seem to be a complete about face to many people. I don't see it that way. Part of why I loved philosophy - and still do - is because of the orderliness and beauty of the thought and language. Much like mathematicians find beauty in a proof or a poet in the rhythm of words.

Ian and Silvi have impacted my view of philosophy deeply. They have drawn me out of abstraction into the concrete world, though I still struggle with favoring fantasy over reality. The nature of the arts, I suppose.

This brings me to the title of this post - beauty. The fashion world is consumed with beauty and mostly with surface beauty. Surface beauty is not, in and of itself, a bad thing. The symmetry and orderliness of a beautiful face or body, as our culture defines such things, point us toward what we all aspire for - perfection. And the line between false beauty and true beauty is fine; the fashion industry is rampant with false beauty, fantasy and illusion.

But...

There is something in our hearts that longs for the beautiful. Just because many, if not most, fashion has as its focus the sensual (this is often sexual, but not always - I draw a distinction) does not mean we must abandon it. I love the union of style and clothes with the grace and elegance of a model's body. It calls to something within me. Reminds me of something lost. Makes me feel alive. Sparks my creativity, my passion, and yes, even draws me into the presence of God.

Yes, it is surface beauty. And Ian's smile and laughter strikes deeper into my soul than any walk down the fashion runway. I don't know how to merge these two world's yet. I am just beginning to walk, to learn, to make mistakes, to fumble my way through a fashion world wrought with pitfalls, yet where I desire to go.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so the saying goes... the tagline for my company is "Beauty beyond the boundaries." The short clip I posted for you to see on my site is just a glimpse of a segment I'm calling simply - "Dance." I hope you do.

Partly foggy

The fog is finally beginning to lift. Stay tuned for more exciting weather news.

A little something

I met with a blogging friend last night who said I should at least blog a little something.

A little something.

Ha, ha. I crack myself up.

Awww-some

Awww-some, originally uploaded by Narrowridge.

Passages

It would be an understatement to say that it's been a completely transformational - and thoroughly challenging - experience since Ian joined us. It's exposed the hidden, revealed the true and shaken many of my foundations. I've got so many emotions swirling around in my head that I think I'll take a break from blogging for awhile and just journal. It may be just a week or a month, or longer. Not sure. Hope to see you on the other side.

Me Hulk, you run

Silvi has started making Ian cry. She thinks its funny to watch his bottom lip drop lower and lower until it gives way to a full-blown frown. Her smile disappears quickly, however, when her chilled daddy undergoes a dramatic metamorphosis from mild-mannered Bruce Banner into the raging Hulk.

You think you've dealt with all your childhood anger issues until you watch your daughter push your son into the side of a chair for the fun of it. It's then that you realize that deep down, the anger lurks, waiting, hiding.

Since the law frowns on covering toddlers with Velcro and sticking them to the wall until they outgrow such behavior, guess it's time to give the old therapist another call. Or up those antidepressants.

"You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

Touch the sky

Sunset

Living heroes

(Updated: I suppose I should give a quick reason why these folks made my hero list. )

I have quite a few heroes who have passed on, but thought I'd jot down a few who are still living (other than my family, of course).

In no particular order:

• Jimmy Carter - He practices what he preaches, is a peacemaker, diplomat and cares for the least of the least.
  
• Kofi Annan - Certainly a flawed man, but he worked tirelessly for human rights and justice and carried himself with a quiet strength. He's also from Ghana, where Annie grew up.
  
• Asne Seierstad - She's a journalist and an author from Norway who travels tirelessly to tell small stories about people from Kabul to Chechnya. I envy her life.
  
• Nanni Moretti - My favorite filmmaker. From Italy; I own most of his films and watch them over and over. Quirky, sad, lonely, funny, irritating.
  
• Eugene Peterson - A true pastor's heart, author of books that always challenge me and translator of one of my favorite versions of the Bible. A gentle man who loves stories.
  
• Gurinder Chadha - It takes real talent to tackle a subject like the role of Indian women in British society and make it so fun. And Gurinder seems to have a great personality to boot.
  
• N.T. Wright - Renowned British theologian, his book Jesus and the Victory of God made what was once common new.
  
• Peter Kreeft - The surfing philosophy professor. Always writing with a twinkle in his eye, his books give definition to some rather murky subjects.
  
• Richard Dahlstrom - A pastor in Seattle that continues to mentor me through his blog and sermons.
  
• Christiane Amanpour - Working on assignment with CNN, she always covers the hot spots with a level head and years of experience.
  
• Colin Powell - Always trying to form international coalitions, trying to moderate between extremes, used by many leaders for their own gain, Colin Powell continues to remain dignified and a diplomat.
  
• Sofia Coppola - Director of Lost in Translation, she knows how to capture nuance and subtlety. And if the behind the scenes documentary is true, she is one of the most laid back directors in Hollywood... a rarity.
  
• Stanley Hauerwas - Has championed the cause of those with intellectual disabilities since the 1970's.
  
• John Irving - A Prayer for Owen Meany. Period.
  
• Paul David Hewson - OK, so I put Bono on the list. I truely do admire his determination for helping Africa. And I could listen to Vertigo anytime.
  
• Mira Nair - Another excellent director who deals with cross-cultural issues. Start with Monsoon Wedding.
  
• Julian Schnabel - Filmmaker and bold artist. Reminds me a lot of a friend of mine.
  

They say you can tell a lot about a person based on their heroes...

Puppy dog eyes

Yesterday's post read sadder than I intended it to. And I know sad.

We live on the garden level and lately Silvi has been rushing to the window to watch me leave for work. She climbs up onto the arm of the couch and presses her nose against the glass, flashing her big puppy dog eyes, often with tears streaming from them. I try to make her laugh by doing something silly, but usually the last thing I see as I drive away is her sad face and her delicate little hand raised, trying to keep me home for just a moment longer.

That, my online friends, is sad. Helluva way to start each day.

Teriyaki friends

There's a lot I miss about living in Seattle, like the teriyaki chicken restaurants that seemed to be everywhere. I went to the Mall of America for lunch today because I was craving teriyaki chicken and knew of a place that served it there. What a disappointment. Chewy, fatty chicken, bland sauce. It seems impossible to find good teriyaki chicken in Minneapolis.

I also miss the friends I had in Seattle. It's hard to maintain friendships when you move around as much as I do. Did. You probably notice the absence of many other people in the pictures I post. (There wouldn't be room for them anyway, seeing how my shoe is in every other shot.) I know a few people here in the twin cities, but not well enough to call up or do the pop in with. I've got a large extended family nearby, and that is super-fantastic-wonderful. But not the same as having good friends.

How does a forty-year-old man go about making friends? Join a softball team? Writers group? Church functions? Take up electric guitar lessons and join a Motley Crue tribute band?

Maybe I'll make a lot of money and then buy some friends.

And then I'll also have fresh teriyaki chicken flown directly from Seattle at least once a week.

Or maybe I'll just keep taking pictures of my shoe.

Thought during nap time

Existentialism would never have surfaced if Kierkegaard, Nietzsche and Sartre had kids.

I'm pooped

Just for the record, Annie's job of staying home with the kids is ten times harder than my little video production job. Annie, you deserve more than a four-day weekend in Chicago.

But please don't stay any longer than tomorrow.

The boy's night out

Annie's in Chicago for the weekend with her sisters and Silvi is staying the night with Grandpa and Grandma. Let's see what kind of trouble the two guys can get into tonight.
We started off at the lake. Ian really likes my shoes. Don't you?


Then we got some Chinese food. Chopsticks only, of course.


Stopped off at the college bookstore for some light reading before...


grabbing a Spanish latte and a discussion on angst in Sartre's writings at the university coffee shop.

Then we got matching dragon tattoos. (Kidding, babe, kidding.)


Stopped back by the lake where I looked for one of Ian's hearing aids in the dark (found it at home!).


Called it a night. Most excellent boys night out, Ian. You make great company.