beauty-making

One of my earliest childhood memories is of the way I took care of my hair.

From a very early age, I insisted on keeping my light brown hair as long as possible. It was very straight and not too thick, and flowed to the middle of my back. My mother used to trim all of my siblings' hair outside on the picnic table with her special pair of scissors. I remember hair trimming would usually coincide with teatime, in which I got to put 7 sugar cubes into one tiny cup of english breakfast tea with milk. It was always in my Miss Tiggy Winkle cup, so it was very special.

My sister and I had a terrible time with snarls at the base of our necks, until my mother came up with the rule that every night before bed, we had to braid our hair into two braids (you know, she's a Wellesley woman). She refused to do it, but taught us how to braid our hair so that we each could take care of it. We could only keep our long, beautiful, brown hair if we could take care of it.

As I grew older, my hair turned darker, wildly curly, and thick. It became hard to manage, but I did the best I could. In middle school while on a church missions trip, I learned how to French braid. After the trip, I remember standing in the bathroom of our summer cottage for hours one stormy afternoon, braiding my own hair until my arms ached from the angle and until my braids were perfect. From that point on, I started doing everyone else's hair around, in addition to my own.

This progressed through highschool, when I did my own hair for my formals, and won junior prom queen with a dress I got on sale and a hairstyle I stole from "Pride and Prejudice". I even made my own little bobby pins with pearls on the end. However, I kept on doing hair styles for my friends as well. I'm one of my sister's go-to hair stylists, and basically won the love of our best friend's insane mom by how well I did my sister's hair for her friend's wedding last summer. Seriously, my friend's mom treats me so much nicer and is always ecstatic to see me, it's a creepy sudden shift. But I can't complain.

All of this was brought to my mind by this past weekend. Saturday night, the House Presidents hosted a formal in the Alumnae Ballroom, complete with a fantastic live performance by the Harvard "Nostalgics", a motown 12-piece band. At Tupelos rehearsal a few nights beforehand, it came out that 3 different friends of mine were planning to have me do their hair (news to me!). So, Saturday night, we all gathered in my closet of a room, drank wine, ate snacks, and setup a hair salon. I gave each friend a different hair style, we helped each other with makeup, and we decided what jewelery to wear, and it was almost funner than the dance itself. What is it with women and our joy of getting ready together? We crave the approval of others, yes, but I think it is far deeper than that. I believe that women are naturally wired not only to want to feel beautiful, but to help others feel beautiful. Every mother wants her daughter to feel beautiful, but it also goes between friends. It is always a joy to do someone's hair or makeup, because I love the chance to make someone feel as beautiful as they should be feeling every. single. day.

Too many women in the world struggle with self-image issues. Is it then any longer a question why women in general love getting their hair and nails done? It is therapeudic; massaging areas on our bodies which are flooded with nerve endings---I always save the hairdresser for a time I'm really stressed out, and then I get a wash, a scalp massage, and then my cut. Doing my friend's hair Saturday helped each of them to calm down and to feel beautiful, but also stimulated nerves that are biologically soothing and comforting. In our crazily stressed lives of the 21st century, we could always use a bit more of that kind of treatment. We also could afford to hear more often, that we are beautiful. It's not always enough to keep telling yourself that, and it's nothing to be ashamed of.

In one very small, beautiful way, this is something special about women. We like to help each other be as beautiful as possible.

If I think about it, that could sum up my entire college experience at Wellesley. While here, I have helped others discover their beauty, both inner and outer. My dear friends have no idea how much they have done this for me, too ---

-lab

morning

Did you know that my name, Lucy, means light?

I wasn't a Roman child born at dawn (the typical recipients of this name back in the day) but I was born at  I think 10 AM. They thought I was going to be a boy, and would have named me "Luke" in that case.

Many years ago, maybe even when I was 12, my mother gave me a little card that talks about the meaning of my name. It's so silly, the little things people give you that you hold on to and put up somewhere in every room you live in. I have this card from my mom, a letter from my sister, a note from my dad, and a couple of pictures that have walked with me through life since I received them, as tiny reminders of my family's love and faith in me.

The card from my mom lists under my name three words: "delightful, clear-sighted, caring". Sometimes it makes me giggle to think about them, because in truth, these three words are really the core of who I am when I am the best version of myself.

I was talking to a friend the other day about just that--the different versions of yourself. My sister has this sweet, higher voice when she meets grown-ups for the first time or has to talk on the phone, and it's funny because I'm exactly the same way. At my job, customer service essentially, helping people fix their computers/sometimes explaining what the word "browser" means to PhD professors, I have aquired my sweet calming phone voice. I love it, and sometimes it comes out without me meaning to use it.

I had one friend in Vienna who brought out the sweetest side of me. There was one afternoon a bunch of us spent cooking together, right at the beginning of our romance, and I felt like I was walking on air. The sweetest version of me was dancing around, taking control of my body and making it weightless. After everyone left, I had this crazy amount of energy and made myself go out into the courtyard and play guitar like crazy until my blood calmed down.

But I also know the worst side of myself---and God has been teaching me lately that that is good too. I tend to be the opposite of a lot of christians I know, in that when times are good I draw close to him. when times are rough, I try to keep doing everything myself and can't bring myself to ask for help, or admit that I did anything wrong. Now that I have experienced myself as the worst version, stuck in the pits of self pity and non-emotion, after having cried so much that I exhausted my tear valves and just stopped--feeling, I have stronger faith in God.

God sticks with me no matter which version of myself I am. He created me to be His light, and to delight in life and beauty. My favorite thing is share this delight with the people in my life--that is when I feel the most like myself. That is the best Lucy---

Do you know what your name means?

-lab

ode to Monday

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of all nothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)


-e.e. cummings


good morning, world.
-lab

Oh, Friday night

You know it's been a good Friday night when you end it puddle jumping through Boston with one of your favorite people in the world, and then having a heartfelt conversation about life, love, and decisions and both agreeing that it is conversations like these that are the most important to a friendship. They are the core.

What can I say? I came to Wellesley to make amazing friends, and I am surrounded by them. How did I get so lucky?

-lab

At church, we've been going through a series about encountering God and experiencing the different facets of His love and personality.

It gets me thinking on my own about the different personality traits I like the best about God. (this is why I go to church, really, so that I get amazing ideas and think about them more on my own. plus fellowship. and the pizza!)

God loves surprises. He is the best at them. It always comes back to the fact that He holds the entire map of my life in His hands,  while I only get to see one little section at a time. My friendship with Grace would be an example of an extended surprise in my life. When we first met, at midnight on the last Sunday in October, I thought she was conceited, a bit over-bearing, and never for a second thought she would turn into not only someone I would lean on, but someone that I would love with my whole heart. She's never getting rid of me now---especially not since meeting her wonderful mom and aunties (and Charlie, the Dachshund!)

But there are smaller surprises too, and God uses them to remind me of his laughter and fun way of loving me as I need to be loved. Last semester it rained every single Thursday. Seriously. And you would think that after the second week of class I would have gone out and bought an umbrella. Ohhhhhh no. Every week after yoga, heading home and thinking with a sinking heart about all of the homework I had for Friday, and how much I wanted to crawl in bed forever, the sky would open up. The first time it happened I remember simply shrieking with delight and starting to skip. The second time, I giggled. The third time I danced.

My God loves to dance, and He loves to see his children alive with joy and delight. So, I can't be all that surprised that just when I thought I was starting to live a dream, he tapped me on the shoulder, pointed me in the opposite direction, and whispered, "look what I have prepared, just for you, darling".

May we all be listening for just these whispers...

-lab

anticipation

How is it that the best part of something good happening in life actually occurs before the event takes place?

I live and breath anticipation, looking forward to something that I have planned to happen. when I was little, I remember counting down the hours and minutes until I would finally get in the car to go over to a friend's house for a birthday party or a sleepover. I would have my bag packed and my coat on and sit on the couch with my stomach a mixture of butterflies and soda pop and ask my mother upteen times "can we leave yet? can we leave yet?". "Fashionably late" was not in my vocabulary...

Especially since being at college, I have come to terms with the fact that my ability to anticipate can result in huge disappointment. I just love spending time with people--it is probably my number one love language. (They include words of encouragement, giving and receiving gifts, quality time, physical touch, and acts of service). So when a friend makes a date with me, I seriously look forward to it and enjoy it. There are certain friends who I now place into the category (lovingly) of "flake-prone". These people, bless their souls, cancel or just plain forget 90% of the time, and it has nothing to do with me. It is just what happens, it is a fact of their personalities and fate combining. Now, whenever we make plans I actively deprive myself the satisfaction of looking forward to seeing them, and thus when they cancel it is okay. Minimal devastation. Plus, when they actually do come through, then it is pure joy at the surprise of ACTUALLY getting to see them, and that makes up for the joy I missed out on by not allowing myself to experience the anticipation...

On the flip side, when I make a plan in advance with someone fantastic AND have 100% assurance that they will make it, bar any catastrophe/natural disaster/pianos falling from the sky, then I get to enjoy the best of both worlds---savoring the days, hours, minutes of anticipation, and then sucking the marrow out of the time we actually get to spend together.

So in other words, Saturday night could not come soon enough, but I have been enjoying every moment leading up to it fully---life could not be sweeter. How is this state of living possible?

-lab

happiness is...

turning down a one way street in Harvard Square on the way home, and then pulling a 3-pointer while a truck kindly waits and refrains from making rude hand gestures.

*grin*

sparks

"I've found that one of the greatest joys is to bring 

a smile into someone's day, someone's life

Oh, my God, you are so good.

I see you in people's faces all around me.

The beautiful and expansive rainbow

And just when I thought I'd seen it all

Along comes another shade, another hue

you are part of that hue and shade."

Again today, I'm seeing patterns in my life. Around this time last year I met my friend Paul at the shop around the corner in Vienna, and that friendship was one of utter inspiration and encouragement to me. A few weeks ago I was introduced to a man named Leon, the father of a girl who goes to Wellesley that I have always known, but of whom I have never been an intimate friend. My friend Grace was the link to all four of us, and I was invited to Sunday supper at their house, after visiting their church in Cambridge. We played music together and ate delicious food, and I felt amazing warmth and encouragement with this family, and especially from Leon. He and Grace write a lot and discuss many topics, and I have now become a part of this discussion. The quote above is from his most recent letter to me, and I am overcome by that subliminal moment of utter resonation.

Everything these days comes to me in metaphors of music---not only do his words resonate within my mind and heart, but it also feels like a sudden coming together. It is as though we have been straining away on separate parts of di Lasso polyphony and then suddenly the moment of final resolution comes, seemingly out of the blue and you are left in awe of how two parts could converge so naturally that you didn't even see that moment coming. Yesterday a famous Wellesley grad, Wendy Gillespie, visited the campus prior to being honored at the Alumnae Achievement Awards Ceremony, and she played a short concert for the music department. She and a colleague played two very short viola da gamba duets by Orlando di Lasso on combinations of treble, tenor, and bass gambas. I have sung di Lasso polyphony, so it was enriching to hear similar lines and journeys set for instruments. The relationship of the two parts is astounding; they are each leading a separate pathway, but the moments of intersection and resolution, while brief, are shockingly natural. They do not sound planned or prepared, it is as if each part spontaneously decides to bend their route, and they happen to cross each other on the sidewalk and exchange a smile.

One moment that keeps coming to mind is the welcome speech that Kim Bottomly, president of Wellesley College (aka Kbots) gave on my first day of freshman orientation, August 2008. She brought up one of the favorite passages on campus which leads up to Green Hall. It is the renowned "Platform 9 3/4" because you enter at the bottom, twist up two narrow staircases, and appear magically on the road above. President Bottomly spoke about how you never can be certain whether someone is on the other part of the staircase when you enter this passageway, so sometimes you end up funnily squeezing by someone and are forced into interaction with that person, whom you may never have met otherwise. She said that the college experience is all about these awkward and funny chance encounters with people, and how these tiny encounters can be some of the most important ones of your life.

Truth be told, I've never been the hugest fan of Kbots. Her speeches most of the time come out kind of flat and lame and in person she's kind of fakey and disengaged. But, I will probably never forget that first speech, and I'm glad for it. My Wellesley experience both on and off campus has definitely rung true of her description. She urged us to embrace those moments and to be open to other people, and I can say that the times I have followed that advice have brought some of the dearest people into my life.

This really is one of the favorite ways in which I experience my God as the God of perfect timing. He subtly sneaks people into our life when we least expect it. May we be on guard to embrace each moment before it flashes by.

-lab

favorites

I'm bad at these.

It took me 20 years to decide what my favorite color was. I definitely was borrowing my mom's the majority of the time when I would say "blue". Really,  I'm a green person. As soon as I made that decision, it was like every store on the world decided to strip its green section down to only the ugliest and most profane excuses for clothing. I'm serious, every time I go into a store I mentally check every green article of clothing just to be sure it's hideous...and it. always. is.

to get back to the point, it's a rainy Thursday afternoon here at Wellesley College. Do I have tons of reading to do for my Russian class tomorrow? yes. Am I going to a rehearsal tonight and the pub after to dance? yes. So should I be sitting here blogging? Well, that is a philosphical question, in my opinion.

One of my favorite ways to spend afternoons anywhere, not just at Wellesley, is in the act of consuming a hot beverage. I'm sick still, so today the choice is herbal tea (vanilla sleepytime, with Austrian sunflower honey), but at other times it could be a Wiener mélange, or a double-shot of espresso and tiny piece of dark chocolate.

With tea, in the afternoon, at Wellesley, I tend to go for popcorn as my corresponding snack. Somehow, this combination plus the yellow daffodils on my desk are driving away the Thursday afternoon glum.

-lab

resonation

This is my final semester singing with the Tupelos, Wellesley College's oldest a cappella group. (we were founded in 1948, suck it widows).


That is a strange thing to think about. The members of the Tupelos have been some of my dearest friends on campus, and some of the women I have looked up to and respected most. Coming back to find many of them graduated and to grow to love the whole new group of underclasswomen has been a long journey, but I once again feel like this is my family on campus. I have my friends I live with, and my friends I sing with.


We have an alumnae song that we sing at almost every performance where there might be alums of the group, and we sing it most importantly on the night we take new members. This semester, "tapping" occurred on a stormy, dismal evening. I was part of the gang that insisted upon going outside, to our special spot on the lake, as we always have done, in order to do our special ceremonies. The group finally gave in, and we stood close in a circle, made a canopy of umbrellas, and over one lit, red candle, sang this song: 

During the time of which I speak
It was hard to turn the other cheek
To the blows of insecurity
Feeding the cancer of my intellect
The blood of love soon neglected
Lay dying in the strength of its impurity

Meanwhile our friends we thought were so together
They've all gone and left each other
In search of fairer weather
And we sit here in our storm and drink a toast
To the slim chance of love's recovery

There I am in younger days, star gazing
Painting picture perfect maps
Of how my life and love would be
Not counting the unmarked paths of misdirection
My compass, faith in love's perfection
I missed ten million miles of road I should have seen

Meanwhile our friends we thought were so together
Left each other one by one
On the road to fairer weather
And we sit here in our storm and drink a toast
To the slim chance of love's recovery

Rain soaked and voice choked
Like silent screaming in a dream
I search for my absolute distinction
Not content to bow and bend
To the whims of culture, the swoop like vultures
Eating us away, eating us away
Eating us away to our extinction

Oh how I wish I were a trinity
So if I lost a part of me
I'd still have two of the same to live
But nobody gets a lifetime rehearsal
As specks of dust we're universal
To let this love survive would be the
Greatest gift we could give

Tell all the friends who think they're so together
That these are ghosts and mirages
All these thoughts of fairer weather
Though it's storming out, I feel safe
Within the arms of love's discovery

I find this song popping into my head all of the time lately. It's a beautiful thing--I feel like I understand the full depth of the journey it is describing. This song has lived with me since my second semester of Wellesley, and it rings truer than ever. That is the beauty of music, how it grows and changes as I do. And through it all, it is amazing to feel the love and support of these women. That is what I came to Wellesley seeking---beautiful friendships that would change me and open my eyes to the possibilities of the world. And I still have a few months left (and then a lifetime), to bask in love's discovery.

-lab

playing the piano

I'm sitting in class watching a sophomore play a Rachmaninoff Prelude and am suddenly struck by this instruments complexity. I feel like your brain is doing similar things to when playing any other instrument, but with a crazy rate of decisions per second. The ability of each finger to simultaneously play notes with entirely different musical nuance and expression from the other fingers....

It's all through your fingers. I'm used to thinking of the stream of air issuing from my lungs and my mouth controlling the shape and the speed of the air. I direct it where to go and train my embouchure to build up the muscles in my lips and jaw. My face actually feels strained when I hit practicing hard after taking a day off.

I can't imagine feeling that kind of strain in every one of my ten fingers....or in hitting a chord with all ten fingers having control over the way each finger encounters the key and relates to it. This actually makes so much sense to why it is so standard that pianists memorize their music. There is so much that must be muscle memory and just soaking into their hands--having to look at the music would be much too slow to make all of the decisions any given chord could require.

When I play piano, it can take me forever to move from chord to chord and note to note, but it feels like I am piecing the two sides of my brain together. It focuses the opposite ends of my energy and channels it together, weaving all of my thoughts and expressions together as I attempt to make eight separate decisions for which finger moves where, in one instant.

After five or ten minutes, I'm ready to go back to my flute or break out an art song and occupy myself with one note, one rhythm, and one decision at a time.

-lab

valentines

It's funny to think that this time last year I was skiing in the French Alps with a French man I thought I wanted to be with "forever".

Life is strange, especially when you're a naive romantic at heart and you journal a lot and overthink everything.

So--in honor of yesterday's being sick and in bed version of valentine's day (let's face it, I'm cool with last year's romanticism lasting me through at least a good couple more valentines until I find someone who can top that) I'm going to do a list of my top 10 best rom coms to watch on a sick day. I'm getting über specific, because, let's face it, there are so many amazing rom coms but so many different times and situations for each of them. Doing a general top ten list would be horribly horribly unfair, at least for someone like me who finds picking favorites extremely difficult.

Top Ten Romantic Comedies for Sick Days

10. The Proposal
9. 27 Dresses
8.When Harry Met Sally
7. Sliding Doors
6. Notting Hill
5. 10 Things I Hate About You
4. Pride and Prejudice (Kiera Knightly version)
3. Ever After
2. You've Got Mail
1. Sleepless in Seattle

*The Princess Bride really should have made the list, but I watched it so many times when I was young and sick (along with Robin Hood Men in Tights) that I can't stomach the idea of watching it again in the next 10 years.

-lab

bienvenue

"New constellations" isn't necessarily being put to rest forever, but for the time being I'm going to start fresh with a new look and new title to keep up blogging adventures and the like. Capturing the little moments that make my days pretty magical.

Today, for example, is Valentine's Day. Considering this is the first time since the eighth grade that I find myself single on Valentine's Day, you might expect me to be experiencing the normal "single girl" reactions. Truth be told, I have spent the entire day in bed with tea, tissues, and chocolate, watching rom coms. That is however, because I am horribly sick! It was actually kind of nice to still be so sick (since Friday) and to skip classes all day and watch "You've Got Mail". I started "Sleepless in Seattle" but the bootlegged version kept pausing to load, I might try again later. It seems to me that my family must have been worried I was going to have some kind of emotional breakdown because they went to extra trouble to get me presents---my mom usually does, but my sister also got me a present: a frog that turns into a prince when you add water. It is still currently bubbling away to reveal the little guy.

At any rate, I'm only two weeks into my last semester at Wellesley, but already I can feel it slipping through my fingers. I am so lucky to be at this school, and I actually feel it right now, which is such a relief after last semester's seemingly unending #wellesleyblues striking me left and right. Sometimes, it really takes a few prods and pokes to get yourself back on track, to open your eyes to life's tiny miracles.

Every morning I wake up early, I am rewarded with beautiful daylight, softly singing birds, and the fresh scent in the air that means one beautiful thing is on the way....spring! "here's to opening and upward" wrote e.e. cummings....and here's to a new blog!

-lab