what already?

I caught myself trying to write something profound yesterday while I really wanted to be engrossed in prayer. Fail. Here's what came out:

I am sitting in the food court at the mall on a Sunday afternoon. It is nearing that golden hour when the sun streaming in though the skylit ceiling mixes with the artificial lamps in a way that it is difficult to tell which is which. Justin Beiber is singing on the multiple overhead flat screen TVs. The catchy pop complements the din of fast food cooking and shoppers shopping.

Who am I?

I was pondering identity and what it means to find your identity in Christ. I think we can only discover our own character against the backdrop of His. It is a fool's errand to search for an identity apart from God. We have no worth, no value, no significance, in and of ourselves. Even the terrifying creatures of heaven, much more than mere flesh and blood like us, cower before His throne.

Whenever the living creatures give glory, honor and thanks to him who sits on the throne and who lives for ever and ever, the twenty-four elders fall down before him who sits on the throne, and worship him who lives for ever and ever. They lay their crowns before the throne and say:
"You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they were created to have their being."
Revelations 4:9-11

conflicted

Dear Blog,

This is post number two-hundred-one in you. In the last two-and-a-half years, you have become many things to me. You have been a soapbox to proclaim with, a pulpit to preach from, a stage to perform on, an ear to complain to, and a community that is never more than an internet connection away.

But looking inward with honest eyes, I fear I may have at times made you a substitute for Someone Else who also wants to be all those things to me. The response from you is just so tangible, what with your comments system, post count, and verbatim memory of everything I bring to you. You allow the world to glimpse a portion of me, however profound or superficial I choose to be.

It is a farce.

You, Blog, and your Followers, see only what I let you see, filtered through lenses of social and spiritual correctness. It is easy for me to hide from you the conflict in my heart and the weaknesses that envelop me daily. Your 'edit post' button haunts me.

For all the advantages that you offer, dear friend, you will never know more of me than what I allow you to know. You will never see the full reality of my truly flawed character. This Someone Else, for all his lacking in tangibility and instant gratification, intimately knows my ugliness, yet will never recoil. He is deserving of my best because he loves me at my worst.

I am unsure of how this will affect our relationship in the future, but I need you to know that it is easy for me to make of you more than what you should be. You are only one of many immediately attractive alternatives to the only source of lasting comfort and acceptance. I regret to follow-up the previous letter with one of such a somber tone, but I hope you understand the gravity of what is at stake. My hope is that you would support my pursuit of a greater good.

Apologies,
Nathan

kinda cool work stuff

Review of a LCD camera-top monitor I designed:



They used the same setup to film the House season finale airing May 17.
Here's a pic of the rig they used.

This new thing won a couple awards at the NAB show a month ago in Vegas.



Pretty rewarding.

sherlock holmes, pre hollywood

It was a September evening and not yet seven o'clock, but the day had been a dreary one, and a dense drizzly fog lay low upon the great city. Mud-coloured clouds drooped sadly over the muddy streets. Down the Strand the lamps were but misty splotches of diffused light which threw a feeble circular glimmer upon the slimy pavement. The yellow glare from the shop-windows steamed out into the steamy, vaporous air and threw a murky, shifting radiance across the crowded thoroughfare. There was, to my mind, something eerie and ghostlike in the endless procession of faces which flitted across these narrow bars of light - sad faces and glad, haggard and merry. Like all humankind, they flitted from the gloom into the light and so back into the gloom once more. I am not subject to impressions, but the dull, heavy evening, with the strange business upon which we were engaged, combined to make me nervous and depressed. I could see from Miss Morstan's manner that she was suffering from the same feeling.

-Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, "The Sign of Four"

an overdue update

Dear Blog,

I'm sorry old friend, I have been neglecting you. You see, life has been somewhat busy yet somewhat uneventful at the same time and rather than bore you with the details, I have chosen to remain silent. However, there are a couple things that might peak your interest as of late. I was able to spend some quality time with Car last weekend and bandaged up his recent injury as best as I could. Please see the enclosed Photograph of his progress. I hope to work with him again soon to make sure he's alright for his future travels.

The test results from Doctor came back and he wants to order another Test. Furthermore, he called me yesterday to tell me they do not take my Insurance any longer, and that I must be redirected to another Doctor for the Test. This is one of those situations which is mostly out of my control, which require mostly just Trust and Patience. I am sorry to report, however, that Patience is wearing a bit thin.

I have been long awaiting the opportunity to return to my beloved Guitar. As it is, I manage to steal only a few minutes with her here and there. I am eagerly awaiting the arrival of Inspiration to to bless our holy union.

Send my warmest regards to your Followers, and keep in touch my friend.

Sincerely,
Nate