VOLUME I // ISSUE 1
JANUARY 2018
an expansive understanding through stories
STAFF Executive Editor: Robin Gericke Creative Director: Madeline Mullenbach Photography Director: Maxwell Boileau Contributors: Kaiser Shaffer Taryn Cipcowski Savannah Riley Emily Veatch Bec O’Brien Catie Lien Delaney Tufts Emily Houp Allison Antram Zach Jeffcoat Layout: Robin Gericke Madeline Mullenbach
This life is vast. What does that mean? Its value to each of us is different. To Madeline, vastness is found in nature - in the ocean, in the canyons, in the skylines. To Max, vastness is found in travel. The world offers countless experiences and cultures. To Robin, vastness is found in the faces of people, each one as different and unique as our own experiences with vastness.
THE MANIFESTO One way we experience God is a vastness inside of us. He is an endless and ongoing source of peace, something in us that is greater than ourselves. We were made for an eternity with Him, and a piece of that heaven dwells in us, reminding us that we were not created for this fallible, dying world. We were made to be in the unending presence of our Creator, and our hearts yearn for the vastness. The goal of VAST is to tell of all these different experiences through stories, photos and art. We each experience this life differently, and what an expanse of the soul it will be when we learn from each other about this vast life.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
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My VAST The Beauty of Dying Hope - Robin Gericke Banff by Madeline Mullenbach Making Something Beautiful by Taryn Cipkowski New York City by Maxwell Boileau The Story of Loving People by Bec O’Brein Overlooking Admiration by Savannah Riley Redemption in a Strip Club by Emily Shockley ATH-NYC by Kaiser Shaffer Paris by Maxwell Boileau Qualities of Entrepreneurship by Niko Kampouris San Francisco by Madeline Mullenbach B+W by Maxwell Boileau
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The orchestration or chance, whichever it is, or perhaps even a combination, that results in Street Photographs is a great example of the vastness of creation. For instance, this summer I was in NYC with one of my good friends. For weeks I’d been planning a photoshoot with a model and finally, on the last full day we had in NYC, we did our photoshoot. It just so happened that she did not have much time at all because of a birthday party she had to prepare for. She recommended Chinatown and we went our separate ways. It just so happened that while in Chinatown, both Matthew and I’s phones were nearly out of charge and so we entered a Starbucks to get a little juice. It also just so happened that while we were inside my camera was ready and I was able to photograph a young child atop his father’s shoulders. All the variables that played off of each other simply for this one photo are astounding. There are too many to count. Not only is vastness represented by the world we live in but also by those who inhabit it and their decisions. The vastness of creation, I believe, is a reflection of the vastness of the creator. The galaxies testify to His great depths, just as the unique patterns on our hands do. If we live in a vast creation now, in a broken world, what is Heaven like? Not only through observing creation but also by direct relationship with God Himself we are able to catch glimpses of Heaven. Despite all my glorified thoughts of Heaven’s grand cities and mountains, Heaven is the presence of God. Even before death, we are admitted. To me, vastness is the magnificent array of testimonies to God. It is the realization that every particle was masterfully and sincerely crafted by God. It inspires me to push myself as I create and yet it encourages me to observe merely for the purpose of observation.
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This life is vast, endless and ongoing. You can let that overwhelm you and pull you in until you are lost in the immensity of it. Or you can let it bring you peace. ‘Life is vast’ has been my personal motto for years. It serves as a reminder to me that this life will go on. ‘‘Life is vast’ is what I would remind myself as I faced hard choices or regret over lost opportunities or mistakes. ‘Life is vast’ is what I whispered as I stood on the edge of the ocean or the canyon or the forest as I traveled. ‘Life is vast’ became the guiding phrase of my actions and still is today. Once, a friend pointed out to me that if we, in our uniqueness and differences, are all created ina God’s image, how big must God be? Now, when I look into the faces of others I am reminded of the vastness of our Creator.
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M Sometimes I sit back in a chair and think about how small I am. Physically, yes but I am such a small part of humanity, of creation. The thought that there are seven billion people out there like me is infathomable.I cannot imagine the legitimate complexity of creation and how it is all in union not only with one another, but with the Creator Himself. If God can create seven billion people and have a purpose for each one of us, He can know me, right? Yes. God is a complex God, but He’s also a simple God. He doe not create without the intention of knowing. I believe this is something that is pivotal to our relationship with creation. Knowing the Creator is needed to fully understand the beauty of creation. I see that beauty most prominentally in the way that God moves. He moves in different ways for different people and that’s beautiful. When I travel, it’s an open excuse to people watch and I’ve grown quite close with this. Watching how people are vastly different in the way they live and were created is astonishing. God is so creative in the ways that He works and it’s seen in people, places and photos but also experienced through those moments that we choose to embrace. This is important. We’ve been given a life, a life that’s good and created for something bigger. Embrace it and take those moments by the hands.vv
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THE BEAUTY OF DYING HOPE 10
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I hate indecision. I would rather know that I am not going know and love, and don’t put your investment in the things to have a good thing than live in unsureness waiting for it. that don’t matter. The future is an unseen unknown, so how Often, my friends will look at me in confusion as I tell them can we place so much weight on it? Hope for what is now, but wish for the rest. Hope for a good life, a story of rejection or disappointment with a smile on my face because I am just overjoyed but wish for how that will specifically unfold. Disappointment fades away if our hope is that I know. Even if the outcome is not what not in a specific job, person or opportunity. I wanted, at least the outcome is known. WE HOPE WHEN WE SHOULD WISH
SO LET’S REJOICE WHEN HOPE IS DEAD.
SMILE
WHEN
HOPE
IS
GONE
Hope is yearning, and yearning for The line between what we hope for and what what you cannot or do not have can we wish for is often too blurred. Ideally, we destroy you. So perhaps we should live wish for superficial things, such as weather in gratefulness over hope and peace and sale prices while we hope for things with over desire. Let us live into the vastness more meaning, such as a good conversation with our parents or for a potential relationship to work out. of life and all it will afford. Perhaps we should allow Yet I believe we hope for too much. Hope for the things you ourselves to grieve when hope is dead, and then rejoice.
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BANFF IN BLACK + WHITE
BY MADELINE MULLENBACH
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when there is no answer. when there is no resolution. how do you go on?
MAKE SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL
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a reflection by Taryn Cipkowski
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Hello, my name is Taryn, and I have anxiety. When I meet someone new, this is who they meet; shaking hands, darting eyes, even stuttering over my words. But, this is not who I am and not who God made me to be. Until a few months ago, my anxiety was a plague, not from this world. I dreaded a new day to encounter something that would trigger my anxiety out of my control. And I feared disclosing my burden to others because I didn’t want them to think I couldn’t function normally or pity me. I didn’t want them to meet Anxiety instead of meeting Taryn. People who did know and see Anxiety told me to see a therapist, they told me to get it under control and just have more faith in God. But, I knew there was more too it. See, anyone who struggles with mental health issues knows that just ‘seeing a therapist’ doesn’t solve it and ‘just giving it to God’ doesn’t solve it. Several months ago, I finally took all I had and said, “God, I cannot do this anymore. I don’t want this. Anxiety is inhibiting my ability to serve you fully. You just need to take it all away, and I will be able to be the daughter you made me to be.”
NO ANSWER.
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So I persisted, “God you just don’t understand, I can’t do life with anxiety. You know that it’s a result of sin. You know that anxiety is inhibiting my ability to serve you. Please, if it’s your will, just take it away.” Again, I had no answer. Here, my response would normally have been ‘Well, what the heck, God, I thought that was a good prayer. I am asking all the right things.’ However, what God said to me next was beyond my understanding, something I never would have been able to interpret. He helped me to understand that my anxiety may be from sin entering the world but that does not mean it wasn’t part of His plan for my life. I needed to to use my anxiety for bettering the Kingdom. I really had no idea how I was going to do that, but I recognized that unexpectedly I had a new capacity for life. I loved to get up in the morning and rest with the sunrise preparing to not know what I was going to encounter, but be at peace resting in His grace. A year ago, you may have heard me talk about the desert I was travelling through, in search of an oasis. I would talk often about this earth which was not our home, but that our journey was headed elsewhere. When I prayed, if I did, I began with “I know I haven’t come to you in a while’ and end on a note of desperation. And while my state may have been reasonable, I’ve really never been more grateful for my desert and the beautiful little oases that I come across.
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46 Several months ago, I finally took all I had and said, ‘God, I cannot do this anymore. I don’t want this. Anxiety is inhibiting my ability to serve you fully. You just need to take it all away, and I will be able to be the daughter you made me to be.’ God never took my anxiety. I still drown when I meet new people, go places I’ve never been, step into unsafe situations or vibe in spontaneity. But, I don’t travel in this desert alone. Why don’t I give my anxiety to God and just have more faith? I have, and He handed it right back to me and said,
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“MAKE SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL.”
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NEWYO
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A Photo Journal by Maxwell Boileau
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ABIDING BEAUTY by allison antram
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Five of us piled into a Buick Enclave at 6:30 a.m., our bags stacked like tetris in the trunk. Being the smallest, I commandeered the third row seat - distinctly less comfortable and consumed by trunk overflow and bags of snacks. I origamied my giraffe legs and made a pillowed wall against the cold window; my head rested there but I couldn’t sleep. The girls spoke with quiet anticipation while black skies brightened and a throwback jams station periodically shifted our attentions to Britney or the Backstreet Boys. I don’t particularly love the beach. The heat is uncomfortable. My pale skin tends toward strategic burning rather than tanning. Yet I jumped at this girls trip with some coworkers. I hadn’t been on a real vacation since starting my big-kid job, the girls were exceptionally kind, and the trip was inexpensive. I didn’t overthink it. I signed on. And so I found myself in the very back of a vehicle with four other women I was semi-work-friends with, headed for Florida. Our 10-plus hours of driving took us through empty rambling highway and Alabama cotton fields, which we stopped for, because none of us had seen actual cotton growing in person. Eventually small Southern towns and fields evolved to palm trees, and we found ourselves trying to navigate the touristed wasteland that is Panama City. We rolled past worn and cheap hotels and generic beach shops possessing all the same merchandise only labeled differently. My giraffe legs ached, ready to be free of the backseat, all the while nervous to see where I would be sleeping for that week.
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I was tired in that moment. I was learning and relearning the word, “no,” and juggling responsibilities and commitments I didn’t feel made for. My heart was achy and hopeful and fumbling through relationships and dreams and jobs, weary of digging for answers or following a cluttered map. I had these precious several days earmarked for productivity in many forms, but my mind cried for a cease. A reroute and a 20-minute drive later, we found ourselves on the lesser known end of PCB - clean and less inhabited. Our lodging was unexpectedly in a gated community of beach houses, each with unique character and cutely named. We unpacked our tetris trunk at the condominium and dropped all our bags in our charming condo; I swapped sneakers for flip flops and our clan strolled directly to the beach. Isn’t it something, the moment you first step onto a beach? The anticipation that’s welled, the distant familiarity of sand in toes and salty wind through your hair. It’s a welcoming into something just unexpected enough to leave us full-hearted with entirely new breath in our lungs.
ISN’T IT SOMETHING, THE MOMENT YOU FIRST STEP ONTO A BEACH?
I’VE ALWAYS BEEN PARTICULARLY ENAMORED WITH THE SKY; YOU CAN NEVER TAKE IT IN ALL AT ONCE, AND I CAN’T BEGIN TO UNDERSTAND 71
I’ve always been particularly enamored with the sky; you can never take it in all at once, and I can’t begin to understand it - why clouds bend and float in different shapes, how the sun paints a different brilliance every morning and evening, the strength in a rumbling bolt of lightning. But to watch it stretch over another miracle of vast, on rare and precious occasion, feels like getting swallowed in the waves. It’s an overcoming beauty, altogether innate and inexplicable, made for us like coming home. The pinks of the sunset were fully blooming when we reached the end of the boarded sidewalk and I kicked off $5 flip flops, carrying them laced in loose fingertips. My feet sunk into cool sand, with slow and unfamiliar steps growing to excited hops as my view widened, eventually leaving my group in a half-hearted run toward water, desperate to see more of the sun dipping into the ocean. Beauty sings a unique glory, humbling us to a marvel; something within us feels most free and most known gazing at the clearest reflections of our Creator. We can’t help but become children, arms raised toward the Father, to receive creation like the too-good-tobe-true gift that it is. There is a lyric in one of my favorite songs I think about a lot, that says, “I’d give anything to hear you say it one more time, that the universe was made just to be seen by my eye” (Saturn, Sleeping At Last). What a miraculous thought, that the infinities of space and ocean and mountainscape were crafted with joy and delight to bring more joy and delight. The beach week was brief. I did nothing productive, and gave myself that grace. It did not solve my problems, but it brought some healing. It brought the space needed. By the time we piled back in the Enclave and reverse-journeyed from palm trees to cotton fields to highway all over again, I was ready to be in the bluegrass with my tiny home downtown and my favorite coffee shop around the corner. Not because it’s home - I’m still not sure where that is - but because I remembered my peace, my gratitude. Beauty isn’t something to be chased, it’s something to abide in. The vastness doesn’t send us looking, it reminds us we’re found.
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OVERLOOKING 73
ADMIRATION By Savannah Riley
Ever since I was younger I have had long strawberry blond hair. Well… That is mostly true. The long part took a hiatus when I was in seventh grade. I cried for days after that horrendous haircut. The stylist had attempted to put layers in my hair and ended up cutting one layer the length of my shoulders and another at the length of my ears; I lovingly named the layers chunk one and chunk two. The chunks stayed with me for years until chunk two finally reached the length of my chest and they could be evened out. I have been sensitive about haircuts ever since. The only people in my immediate family with the blessed ginger tones are my sister Sophie and myself. She is basically a mini me but as we got older, Sophie’s hair deepened into a beautiful auburn. And mine? Well… through my eyes it seemed to fade to more of a dirty blonde. If I am being honest, this took more of a toll on me than it should. A decent portion of my individuality has always been wrapped up in my long ginger locks. I mean it makes sense; My hair was often a “easy cop-out” to the lurking feelings of ordinariness. I could look around a room and feel so common, but then assure myself, “Well Savannah, at least you’re the only one with red hair…” I am not sure when being “ordinary” became something to avoid at all costs, but it has been a growing fear of mine. My hair gave me momentary peace from it. This is one reason why I decided to start adding Henna to my hair in college to brighten the red tones.
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This past autumn I had an incident that brought this hair overattachment issue to my attention. I went to get a haircut and went through the normal rundown with the stylist about how I really enjoy having long hair and that she can cut it till it looks healthy again, but it must remain longer than my boobs. I also threw in that my wedding was coming up so it was important to keep it long. Classic boob rule. It never failed me; until now. Somehow when the haircut was said and done my hair rested below my collar bone. I held back tears the best I could, but my best was a pathetic two seconds. I sat there in the chair sobbing and mumbling something about how she did a great job but I’m just oversensitive about haircuts and that she should just ignore my crying. She soon realized she did not follow the boob rule and felt horrible. I felt horrible for making her feel horrible. At the end of it she gave me the haircut for free. I wrote her an apology letter and I have not had a haircut since (no joke it’s been almost a year). I sat miserable for days after that, unable to feel like myself. Looking back, of course it was ridiculous for me to feel that way over some lost hair, but the emotions in that moment felt so legitimate. Why on earth was I genuinely upset? It was one of my roughest days in a long time and my mood tracker can even prove it. I marked down that day as heartbroken. Upon the realization that the saddest day of my entire year was due to a haircut, I decided some self searching was necessary. What I learned is the reason I am sharing all of this random commentary on my hair. I am hoping in sharing this you can avoid falling into this hole that I keep seeming to find myself in.
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I broke down this issue to its core until I realized that comparison to others was what was slowly eating away at me. I also found that it was not just my view of my hair that it was affecting... The truth is my hair has always had a red tone to it, but compared to others gorgeous deep red, mine felt brown. The truth is that I do have qualities about me that make me worth-while and different from others, but in comparison to others extraordinary qualities, mine seemed to be lacking. The truth is I am incredibly wealthy in view of the world, but in comparison to those few others, I felt poor. The truth is that I have gained skills as an artist, but compared to others my art looked like it was completed by a 5th grader. The truth is that I have admiration from others, despite how hard numbers and stats on Instagram try to tell me otherwise. I did not even realize that last truth until I did this self-searching. I overlooked my beautiful younger sister for years, not realizing how much she needed me all because I was seeking admiration in the wrong places. Do not let comparison to others cover up the truth in your life. The truth is that you are loved deeply by an almighty God. The truth is that you are unique and beautifully made. The truth is that you have people who look up to you‌ And if you have red hair, the truth is that it is red, so do not view it as brown.
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ATH to NYC photos and words
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2 WEEKS F R O M AT H E N S T O N E W Y O R K F R O M R E F U G E E C A M P S TO CO N T E M P O R A RY A RT M U S EU M S A P H O T O F R O M AT H E N S + A P H O T O F R O M N E W Y O R K WO R D S F RO M B OT H LO C A L E S 1 BOOK
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So many packages from all over the world are coming in full of clothes that people have given hoping that they would be put to use. It’s an honor to be the fibers and connective tissue in a long story of how these shoes were made, bought, used, donated, shipped, sorted, packaged, and distributed.
84 Packing boxes seems like a very practical way to help, and I did enjoy it greatly, but nothing can replace the experience of facilitating
a child’s
joy and wonder, especially in the face of difficult circumstances.
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Turns out that the warehouse is the former Olympic basketball stadium. The boxes lines the halls, the office headquarters are in the lobby area. It’s moving to see a place forgotten helping forgotten people.
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It’s getting a little routine. The walk to the metro. The wait for the metro to arrive. The walk to Syntagma Square. The wait for the tram. The wait on the tram to Elliniko. It’s a little weird how quickly we can fall into these habits.
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It’s a city of endless paths to take. Which is both widely entertaining but also widely maddening. You’ll never be able to take it all in.
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It was not always comforting art, but it was art that allowed me to feel understood or allowed me to understand. Often understanding is not comforting. But understanding gives us a better view of truth.
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Some art is just a lot more intuitive than others. There are times you have to ask how to play before you can enjoy the game.
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The reflective nature of the metal and glossy coating also lets the viewer’s image become a texture among the fray, inviting us to consider our own place in the lines.
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ARIS A Photo Journal by Maxwell Boileau
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QUALITIES OF A BUSINESS OWNER Q & A with Niko Kampouris
What does being an entrepreneur mean to you? Personally, I believe being an entrepreneur is not just about being a dreamer, but also a doer. It’s about working hard for the things you truly believe in, the things that break your heart, and the things that make you feel alive. Tell us about your business? Fox in the Hen House is a lifestyle supply company that uses quality apparel to promote human experiences, storytelling, and adventure. We launched during my Sophomore year of college with the desire to cultivate a brand that aimed to encourage individuals to pursue an adventure worth embarking on. Above all, we believe humans have been created with the intrinsic desire to be in community. We can experience more joy when we do life with other people. In fellowship, there is more opportunity to learn, grow, and encounter the full spectrum of the human condition. Why did you start this in college instead of waiting until after graduation? I think in college you have an insane amount of networking capability, people that want to see you succeed, and mentors that want to help you along the way. There are unique advantages to launching while being a student that post-graduation life just can’t offer you. Where do you go to school/major/hometown? I am a Business Administration major at Boyce College in Louisville Kentucky. My hometown is about 15 hours north east, an average place called Stoughton Massachusetts. Are you an introvert or an extrovert? According to Myers-Briggs I’m “52% introvert and 48% extrovert,” whatever that means. I think I’m fairly outgoing when I’m comfortable with who is around me, but I am also a huge fan of me-time. What are your goals for the future? That is a tough question, I think at this point my goal is to continue to work hard and continue to learn, everything else is up to the Lord and His will for my life. What is one of the most important lessons you have learned? It’s okay to mess up. As a recovering perfectionist, I used to, and still can, be so terrified of failure. Through launching Hen House I’ve learned to embrace failure, and use it to refine my skills and create more honestly. What was your biggest mistake? Hmmm…I think my biggest mistake was keeping my anxieties to myself when things were really stressful at first. I was trying to create this brand built on transparency and community while being a nervous wreck all alone in my dorm room. What are three qualities it takes to be a successful entrepreneur? Speaking as an owner of a small, humble e-commerce company, I think it takes grit, passion and creativity. There will be moments where you’ll want to give up, don’t. There will be times where you’ll need to rethink the ordinary, embrace it.
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CISCO An iPhone only photo journal by Madeline Mullenbach
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t h i s v a s t l i f e . c o m
