The Hampton Bunny!!!

This will be the first of (likely) many stories about the community house I live in.

About three days ago Mikey brought home a baby bunny he rescued while doing lawns. I didn't get to see it 'cause I went to work extra that day. They were planning to take it to the shelter the next morning, so I just sort of accepted that this was an event outside of my sphere.

The next day, our house's email list was bombarded by a slew of emails. The bunny was missing! It had been there that morning, and then the box was empty. This caused everyone minor distress for a few days. At first this was my reaction:

But after a day passed with no luck finding the critter, my thoughts took a sadder turn.
It is going to die in some small corner. It is going to smell really bad. We will only find it because of the smell. We will weep over its small corpse.



Sorry, had to take a moment of silence there. It was really quite a sad situation. I think we had pretty much given up hope. Or at least half of us had.

This morning we were greeted by an email sent by Charlie at 4 AM.
THE BUNNY WAS FOUND!!!
Apparently it hopped on his arm in the middle of the night and scared the crap outta him.

This is a picture (taken from facebook) of the bun in Alana's hands. Is so widdle!

Because I was at work all day, I still haven't actually seen the bunny yet. Perhaps I should go see if I can do that. :)


Ah yes, and the bunny is staying! Big Mike wanted to adopt it, and so did Mikey.
So the bunny's parents are both of the Mikes.

Nice To Re-meet You

I suppose I should say something like "hello."

This is me with a graffiti that somehow knows my life motto.

I haven't written much of anything in what feels like a year or more. Moving out on your own, learning to be an adult, it changes you. You realize some things you thought were the pillars of you just aren't true anymore, at least for a while.  I don't think I stopped writing in my head. But I stopped putting it on paper. I didn't chase the stories down. I chased real life adventures instead. I took a lot in. I learned to appreciate beauty I hadn't seen before, I stayed out until early morning driving with friends, I experienced new depths of emotion. Incredible connection, crushing heartbreak, conscious emptiness.
I said and thought a lot of things that slipped away into the air of the places I occupied, lost forever. Or maybe they're still cycling through the air ducts, floating on the night breeze, tangled in the fibers of my pillows.
I think I'm ready to start writing again.

I'll admit, life this past year has been as wearying as it has been revolutionary. But I wouldn't trade away the time I spent or the lessons I learned. No matter how many mistakes I made, no matter how many times I cried and couldn't hide it. I feel more like a mess and know myself less than ever before. It's becoming increasingly important to find my identity in God as everything around me changes so quickly.

I chose to name this new blog "Beautiful Times" after an Owl City song about beauty mixed with pain. Maybe I'll change it later, but for this time in my life, it seems fitting.

A few important facts about my life right now to give some context:

>>I live in a big blue house named Hampton with about 23 different people give or take a couple. We're an Intentional Christian Community dedicated to investing in each other's lives, not just sharing space.
>>My main job is at a car wash. I work there half the week. The other half of the week I try to focus on my art. I create and publish a webcomic and try to do other illustration as well.
>>I just turned 20. My days of teen heroism are over. It's all regular type superhero antics from here on out.