Risen Magazine Summer 2008 by Risen Magazine

risen faith * hope * love

summer2008

Nobody Knows My Soul Rainn Wilson :: RedCloud :: Gretchen Bleiler :: Mark Crear :: Serj Tankian

contents summer 2008

columns

8 looking inside Risen’s first editor traces Risen’s journey.

10 Q-5

Jon Foreman :: The singer/songwriter lays human fingerprints next to “something else.” Dustin Leigh Seltzer :: A beauty queen escapes to “reality.” Rheanna Downey :: Sometimes a song will locate God in an unlikely place.

46 miracles :: brew briggs In the mid ’70s Brew Briggs was one of California’s top surfers. By the ’80s he had had found another road to happiness. In the ’90s something happened that has no rational explanation. We call them miracles.

56 FHL In his first column for Risen, our new managing editor, Matt Marquez, gives compelling reasons to “remain.”

58 expressions Jeremy Cowart :: Photographer Jeremy Cowart sees things that may or may not exist.

Chuck Anderson :: This artist has influenced your life more than you might realize.

70 pulse Katherine Heigl, Keri Russell, Dustin Hoffman, Eva Longoria Parker, Ice Cube, Hilary Swank, Queen Latifah, Diane Lane Ashton Kutcher, and Lisa Kudrow .

72 the well :: the faith of a child It took half a century, but the words are worth the wait.

interviews

14 amare stoudemire :: nobody knows my soul When the Phoenix Suns power forward went above the rim, he landed in a place of eternal dreams.

20 gretchen bleiler :: the cool warmth of winter

One of the world’s top athletes, a snow angel, a gold medalist, Gretchen Bleiler nonetheless finds herself alone, but not lonely in the backcountry.

26 mark crear :: the alchemist’s run Olympian Mark Crear reveals the secret of turning “silver to gold.”

30 rainn wilson :: mr. schrute, meet mr. wilson Office star Rainn Wilson meets his alter ego, Dwight K. Schrute, and finds out that God does have a sense of humor.

34 redcloud :: all these things make me cry Taking his name from one of history’s most famous Indian chiefs, indigenous rapper RedCloud hopes to lead his people to higher ground.

40 serj tankian :: too many hats Lead vocalist and rhythm guitar player for System of a Down, Serj Tankian went looking for something that might not be musical.

50 D.O.P.E. :: death or prison eventually Two skateboarding icons take a message of hope behind prison bars.

dept:Looking Inside LORD OF THE ZINE a pivotal line in Lord of the Rings There’s where Gandolf says, “There is one Lord of

the ring, only one who can bend it to his will. And he does not share power.” Like that ring, the message we are asked to carry has proven heavy. Unlike the ring, no one person can carry it alone. We need your help, your input and your prayers. With that and God’s guidance, the burden will become light. While we are thankful to those who have taken Risen this far, we have recently moved everything under one Southern California roof. Sadly we have had to say goodbye to some wonderfully talented staﬀ members, simply because they live thousands of miles from us. Allan Camaisa, a brilliant and proven entre-

preneur, and Risen’s original investor, is returning as the publisher. Owen Leimbach, who has been with us a while, will continue doing everything from writing stories to managing the Web site. Rob Springer will still do layout, Dane Wilkins will hold it down as proofreader. Laura Funk is back running the oﬃce, and a fresh young writer named Matt Marquez will handle the managing editor’s slot. I will return as editor. Our staﬀ of gifted freelance writers, photographers, and artists is also staying on. While together we form a strong team, if we lack humility we will fail in our mission to “encourage Christians and reach out to others.” It’s taken a while to realize that the core of our message is nothing that we thought up, or ever

could have thought up. We are no more masters of it than Job was when God asked him, “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?” We may have written the words and snapped the photos, but cannot make paper and ink breathe spiritual truths any more than we can make them walk. We are not the vine, but a branch that, without being attached to the root, will wither over time. We are not Risen; He is Risen. The best we can do is become His and your humble servants. Thank you for praying and walking with us, this far. With thanks and blessings, Chris Ahrens and the Risen Magazine staﬀ

ENCOURAGE AND REACH OUT First of all, I would like to thank you, our readers, for believing in Risen Magazine. While you will notice a few subtle changes in our content in this issue, we are not finished yet. In fact, we would like to invite you to give us your input by contacting us at info@risenmagazine.com. Secondly, I want to thank those who founded the magazine and saw it through its numerous transitions. From the early contributions of Hagan Kelly and Scott Hancock to Mike Sherman, Steve Beard, Nick Purdy, and Reid Davis, thank you for holding Risen in your capable hands.

8 RISEN magazine

But why another magazine when hundreds of them litter the bookstores? We at Risen hope to rise above the gossip and rumors that often choke print media, to reveal faith, hope, and love to a thirsty world. The Risen staﬀ are blessed to take the baton and run it with the mission to “encourage Christians and reach out to others in faith, hope, and love.” In that regard, we don’t interview “only Christians” because we feel that doesn’t reflect on John 3:17: “…for God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world…” We don’t profess to be another church

newsletter or publication, because we are a high-quality crossover magazine, exploring the talents of musicians, actors, athletes, artists, and photographers who often use their gifts to express their faith. We hope you grow with us on this incredible journey.

Thank you and God bless, Allan Camaisa Publisher, Risen Magazine

faith * hope * love PUBLISHER :: Allan Camaisa EDITORIAL EDITOR :: Chris Ahrens MANAGING EDITOR :: Matt Marquez TRAFFIC CONTROLLER :: Laura Funk COPY EDITOR :: Dane Wilkins CONTRIBUTING WRITERS :: Steve Beard, Kelli Gillespie, Owen Leimbach, Trish Teves, Jewly Hight, and Corey Moss

ART ART DIRECTOR :: Rob Springer PHOTO EDITOR :: Bob Stevens CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS :: Estevan Oriol, Tim Tadder, William Branlund, Kurt Iswarienko, Bil Zelman ILLUSTRATION :: Zela ONLINE EDITOR :: Owen Leimbach RISEN Magazine is a subsidiary of RISEN Son, LLC. The views expressed by the subjects interviewed in RISEN Magazine are not necessarily those shared by the staff or publishers of RISEN Son, LLC. All interviews are recorded live and exclusively for use by RISEN Magazine. Interviews remain the sole property of RISEN Son, LLC. All rights reserved. No part of the contents of this magazine may be reproduced without the written consent of RISEN Son, LLC. PRINTED :: USA

PUBLISHED :: San Diego, CA

SUBSCRIPTIONS :: 858.875.1111 - risenmagazine.com $19.99 for a 1 year subscription (4 issues) • $29.99 for a 2 year subscription. Canada and outside of the US pay $25.99 for a 1 year subscription • $41.99 for a 2 year subscription. Payment must be sent with order. Send all orders to Attn: Subscription Department. For faster service please inquire about credit card payment. AD SALES :: Advertising rates are available upon request. For more information contact: Megan Camaisa, 858.405.3716 or email megan@risenmagazine.com. RISEN is published quarterly by RISEN Son, Po Box 291823 Kettering, OH 45429 POSTMASTER: Send address changes to RISEN Son, Po Box 291823 Kettering, OH 45429

RISEN Son, LLC

P.S.

As you may notice, there has been a change of staff at Risen Magazine. The magazine is now run by its original publisher, Allan Camaisa, and the staff is centered under one roof in San Diego, California. We would like to acknowledge the great work of previous staff, which was headed by Michael Sherman, Steve Beard, Nick Purdy, and Reid Davis. They are responsible for much of the content in this current issue. We are grateful for their work on this and on previous issues. Cover Photo :: Kurt Iswarienko

Summer 2008

dept: Q-5

Writer: Chris Ahrens

photo: Aaron Chang

Switchfoot front man, all around good guy, and deep thinker, Jon Foreman needs a book to explain himself. Lacking funds for such a project, we distilled his thinking into five easy pieces, AKA Q-5.

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Risen Magazine: Where do you think ideas come from? Jon Foreman: Hmm. I think the best art has a bit of transcendent light shining through it from the outside. That part can’t be manufactured, human fingerprints alongside something else. I always equate songwriting with archeology—every day wake up and dig; some days you discover a lost world that’s been under your feet all along.

RM: It seems the creative process requires great ego, thinking that people are going to pay to hear what you have to say, and great humility, to be open to all sorts of input. JF: If you ask a group of children, “How many of you are artists?” every one of them would raise their hands. Ask the same question to a group of adults and very few would admit to having an artistic streak. A child has thin skin, completely transparent, completely honest. We lose this. We get hurt, we learn to protect ourselves, we put masks on. I think in that sense we lose ego and humility at the same time. Pride is mostly a mask to hide insecurities.

RM: How does fame treat you? JF: Fame is weird, fun and cancerous.

10 R I S E N m a g a z i n e

RM: What are the occupational hazards of a touring musician? JF: I end every tour with bruises, but the hardest thing is to stay grounded. Picture a potted plant transferred from one pot to another, daily. It can wear on you. Playing music is the best job in the world, no complaints, but that’s the occupational hazard. I guess it’s not unique to music, though; you could lose your soul in any endeavor.

RM: In your profession, the bigger your name, the better for business, while your faith requires a decrease in self. How do you reconcile the two? JF: I’m still trying to figure that out. Spotlights and loud music and the small still voice.

Throughout this year, Jon Foreman will be releasing four E.P.s: Fall, Winter, Spring, Summer. They can be purchased through the website: JonForman.com

dept: Q-5

Writer: Trish Teves

photo: Jackie Wonders

Dustin Leigh Seltzer: Beauty queen, reality TV star, musician, and a really good listener

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Risen Magazine: How did you go from being raised in a conservative Baptist background to competing in beauty pageants? Dustin Leigh Seltzer: I was home-schooled, did

not have a television in my house, and grew up on a farm with five younger brothers. So I suppose it is very ironic that I ended up in beauty pageants. I don’t remember anyone raising their eyebrows about me competing in pageants.

RM: Were you bummed about being home-schooled? DLS: Some people say home-schooling doesn’t prepare

a child for the real world, but I think I had the best of both worlds. Maybe some home-schoolers don’t get out enough, but my family and I participated on sports teams all year round, plenty of extracurricular activities, and of course we had the family band. I’ve traveled all over the world with our band.

RM: It seems as if women who compete in beauty pageants have an odd dose of ego. After all, they are putting themselves out there to be judged on their physical beauty. DLS: Sometimes I do wish that the swimsuit

competition would disappear because I don’t think it is a good way to measure someone’s worth or beauty. But it is important to be physically fit, to take care of yourself, and to be healthy. I have to be honest with you … I did not expect to win Miss California. It was the Lord’s plan for my life. There were fifty-four other girls from around the state that were very prepared and qualified. I did not even think I would make the top ten. I still look at it as a miracle.

RM: You competed in the Amazing Race twice. The second time was for the all-star season. Why do you think they asked you guys back? DLS: I think the Race loved us so much because we were

not what they expected. They expected ditzy blondes who wouldn’t last very long. But that’s not who we are; we were feisty sometimes and we fought really hard. But through the Race I realized how big the world is. We get so wrapped up in our own little lives, our agendas and goals. We forget that there are billions of other people out there doing so many different things. For instance, some women in Africa travel barefoot for miles with containers of water on their head before the sun even rises. I also enjoy listening to other people’s life stories. So, I’m working towards a degree in family and marriage counseling. I did not feel like I wanted to wait around for something to happen after the Amazing Race. But I believe there are extraordinary things you can do when you put yourself in a position to be used by the Lord.

RM: Why did you choose to go back to graduate school when most women in your position would ride the coattails of fame and beauty to make a living? DLS:I think it’s easier said than done to try to make

your way in the world with just a pretty face. Plus, I’m not sure that I would feel fulfilled even if that was an option. There are certain things that I’ve been gifted with that I want to use to help other people. One of those things is the gift of encouragement. Dustin is attending graduate school in Orange County. She enjoys encouraging young women to fulfill their dreams. Summer 2008

dept: Q-5

photo: Nino

Writer: Chris Ahrens

Along with the voice, Rheanna Downey has some deep thoughts and insightful opinions. Five answers later and I’m still contemplating.

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Risen Magazine: Do you seek a connection through music? Rheanna Downey: Music is a connection that is already there that I’m not always aware of until after it’s written. Sometimes I’ll write a song and not know why I’m writing and two days later I’ll figure out what God is telling me through it. That makes it supernatural in my opinion.

RM: Do you feel you can get something from just about any song? RD: Somebody could write something from complete egotistical self-centeredness, but I could find God in it, yeah.

RM: You once had a producer tell you to write dance music because that’s what everyone was listening to. RD: I did. At first I was oﬀended, but then I laughed.

was in a jewel case, but I always felt weird about that. Now, all of my CDs are handmade. When I take half an hour to make a CD case and hand-sign it and charge five bucks, I’m putting my entire heart into it. I feel I’m giving somebody something more.

RM: What are you trying to communicate with your work? RD: I really identify with brokenness and pain, so I try to communicate healing and comfort. The artists that have done the most for me have done more than supply a good memory. They have taken me to a place that was healing. I believe that’s part of my role, to give people a safe place and help them walk through things. Jesus Christ was a man perpetually giving His life for other people and in the end He was broken. People think they’re on this upward spiral to heaven, but I think we’re in a downward spiral, to Christ. In that spiral there’s brokenness and faith, which requires you to run blind. There’re all these things you have to go through in order to identify with Christ.

Who is somebody to tell you what your art should be like? Nobody has that right.

RM: He was thinking strictly of sales, right? RD: That brings up the question: should art even be for sale? At the same time, the artist needs to eat, but there needs to be a piece of the art that is given. My first CD

12 R I S E N m a g a z i n e

To order Rheanna Downey’s latest CD, go to MySpace.com/Rheannadowney. Each CD comes in a unique cover, soon to be collector’s items, handmade by Rheanna for you.

Amare Stoudemire Nobody Knows My Soul Writer: Chris Ahrens Photography: Kurt Iswarienko

hoenix Suns power forward/center Amare Stoudemire enters the Opus–LA photo studio, and fills the room with his frame. Those on hand to interview, photograph, promote, and befriend him—most of whom are of average height and, presumably, physical ability—are gobbled up by his shadow. This is more than a testament to sheer size; there’s an intensity reflected mostly in the eyes, predatory one-way mirrors that would be scary to face anywhere, especially in his chosen arena, a basketball court. You could get better odds of defeating a cheetah in a game of tag than of scoring against this guy. Anyway you look at it, you lose. But where does the internal power come from that separates him from the rest of us? Good genes, hard work, and passion certainly play a part, but the fuel that lights the fire to power the body that moves the ball comes from a place so deep it has yet to be mapped, a mysterious place called the soul, a place we went looking for, a place that nobody knows. Interviewed and photographed exclusively for Risen Magazine. Risen Magazine: I know you love music; does it have any influence on your game? Amare Stoudemire: I don’t think so. Music is something that influences my lifestyle, but not really my game. RM: We interviewed Tupac’s Shakur’s mother, Afeni, a while back. It seems that you and Tupac have similarities, in struggle and passion, and love for your mothers. Even your first name and his middle name, Amar, are similar. AS: Growing up in the streets of poverty and being able to make it out . . . it’s similar to Tupac’s life and his mother-son relationship. My mom was definitely an inspiration in my life, the things that she stressed and taught me, from a spiritual standpoint. I think it definitely helped. RM: You could have gone a lot of diﬀerent ways, but you continued moving toward playing in the NBA. What helped you to do that? AS: All my friends were in the streets, but I had a goal in mind. I hung out with them, but my goal was to be successful for my family, because at the time they needed some help. That kept me strong. I was always like the mentor among my friends, and I always gave them words of encouragement and tried to lift them above the situation, even at a young age.

RM: Did you ever feel a sense of destiny? AS: Since the age of eight, I knew I would make it to the NBA. It was an internal feeling I had when I was a kid. When I went to school and played ball or whatever I did with my friends, I was always a little bit better, a little taller, a little faster and that kept my confidence going. I just kept growing as a person and as an athlete. RM: Your tattoos seem to tell a story. AS: Yeah, Cartoon, a famous tattoo artist, does most of them. All my tattoos are dedicated to God, really. My kids are young and if I died right now they could get to know me by my

tats, what I stand for and what I believe in and how I made it out of poverty. My tattoos are a testimony.

career could last fifteen to twenty years, but your spirituality is what gets you over the hump. It’s what keeps you humble, keeps you focused.

RM: What fuels you more, love or anger? AS: I think love is a greater fuel. Amare means love, so love is definitely something I cherish. Anger fuels me as well, but not as much as love. You can be in and out of situations, but love helps you not to take it out on anybody else, but to better that situation. Anger can get you started, get you thinking about the situation.

RM: You face every distraction in the world on the court, including some beautiful women trying to make eye contact with you, and some of them want to get you up to their rooms; how do you stay focused? AS: It’s easy for me to blur it out because when I wasn’t “Amare Stoudemire superstar basketball player” those people didn’t really care. Now, I don’t care. You can look all you want, you can try to get close all you want, whatever, and it doesn’t faze me. I’ve been through the ups and downs, I know how it feels to be overlooked or not looked at as an equal. So, it doesn’t bother me anymore at all. I take it for what it is; I cash my checks and go shopping, splurge and have a great time with my friends and family.

RM: Did you get into a lot of fistfights as a kid? AS: I got into fights all the time. Whenever I hung out with my older brother, he would make me fight with kids my age. Nine out of ten times I’d end up being the winner. Fighting was a part of our culture. We would wrestle, we loved to slap box. Even now, I rough up some of my friends, just for the love factor, it’s genuine. RM: What would cause you get into a real fight? AS: Well, it takes a lot to get me to fight. The person on the other end of it has to do something that pushes my buttons more than twice. I let it go a few times and if they still don’t respect the fact that I’m bein’ genuine about it, they still push my buttons, it sets the alarm oﬀ. It takes a lot, but when it happens, it happens. RM: You walk into an arena with 10,000 people shouting your name, and some of them are booing you. Still, you have to have this confidence and this feeling that you’re nearly superhuman. Yet, being a man of faith, you need to combine that with a sense of humility. How do you pull that? AS: I look at basketball as my job, my career. My faith is my life, everything besides basketball. After basketball, you still have to have faith, or your spirituality, whatever you believe in. Your

RM: One of your tattoos is from Mathew 20:16—what does that mean to you? AS: It’s a testimonial about poverty—The first shall be last and the last first, many are called but few are chosen. When you’re growin’ up on the streets it’s kind of tough to be successful. Due to slavery we’re still a few steps behind and it takes a lot more to be what you want to be, because you’re not able to see what you need to see. You’re not able to touch what you need to touch. You’re not able to grow, all because of slavery. That’s why I started my Each One Teach One Foundation. I made it out [of poverty] due to being a great basketball player. A lot of kids aren’t going to be able to dunk on Shaquille O’Neal, or shoot over LeBron James. Some players, some kids can’t do that, so there’re more ways to make it out besides sports. We’re trying to stress the fact that education is the way. RM: What are the roots of Each One Teach One? Summer 2008

AS: It’s a phrase I thought of about four years ago. I was in a conversation with my friends and words and phrases started comin’ out of me, and that’s one I hung onto and wanted to stamp on people’s lives.

devil, how does a person resist being prideful? AS: There’s a thin line, you can be proud of what transpires, but when you become conceited, you have too much pride and you treat everybody else like whatnots.

RM: How would you define God? AS: Love. Love is what God is all about.

RM: Do you recall any strange dreams you’ve had? AS: The only person I told this to was my mom, but I was on a basketball court with a

RM: How would God define you? AS: He would define me as Israel, Son of God, that’s what I am. I stay positive, positive ways of going about things. You gotta raise your voice at times, sometimes you gotta force the issue, but for the most part you just gotta be positive and do the right thing. When you do the right thing, the spirit of love, the spirit of God will take you where you need to be, take you to the top. RM: You palmed and swallowed those M&M’s in your hand pretty quickly. Other than that, do you have any special diet? AS: [Laughs] One thing I love is Powerade, it’s a great drink. But no, I don’t eat shellfish, I don’t eat pork, I don’t eat beef, I don’t eat catfish. I eat turkey, fish, and chicken. RM: Would you go to war for any reason? AS: I’d go to war for my family. If anybody put a hand on my kids there’s gonna be repercussions; there’s gonna be trouble. I stand for what’s right and I’ll fight for what’s right. What’s right is right, what’s wrong is wrong. It’s that simple.

All my tattoos are dedicated to God, really. My kids are young and if I died right now they could get to know me by my tats, what I stand for and what I believe in and how I made it out of poverty.

RM: As a kid, did you ever promise God anything? AS: There’ve been a lot of prayers, I’ll tell you that. I definitely wanted to help my family, as far as my mom and my older brother and my younger brother. I definitely wanted to be the best I could be for them, so I told God that if he would allow me to be the best basketball player I could be, I’d do a job for Him, I’d be an ambassador. That’s what I’m doing now.

few friends. I went up to dunk and all of the sudden I kept going up. Now I’m over the backboard looking down and still goin’ up. Now I’m in the clouds lookin’ down and still goin’ up. Now I’m over the city of Phoenix and I can see the skyscrapers and I’m still goin’ up. All of the sudden I get to this land, this place where there was nothing but fruit. There was fruit everywhere, fruit baskets, fruit trees, everywhere there was fruit. I grab something from a tree and take a bit [makes crunching sound] and go, ‘Man, that’s nice.’ I’m up there for like an hour or so. It’s like, Man, where am I? Then all of the sudden it’s like [makes falling sound] I fell back down to the court. I ran home to tell Mom about it and I woke up.

RM: What do you look for in a friend? AS: Honesty, I think that’s what makes friends, someone who is totally honest. You know he’s gonna be honest about any opinion. I think that’s what a lot of people in the world need. A girl comes up and asks, “Do I look fat in this dress?” Oh man, don’t ask me that question. [Laughs] I pick it up quickly when people aren’t being honest with me. It’s like a sixth sense.

RM: Do you have any idea what that dream means? AS: I’ll tell you what it means; it means that I’m on the right track—that’s what I take from it. Whatever I’m doin’, I’m doin’ a solid job. To be able to reach a place with nothing but peace and quiet and surrounded by fruit. Fruit is filled with natural vitamins, a beautiful thing, a beautiful gift.

RM: If pride made the greatest angel into the

RM: What does it feel like to fly?

18 R I S E N m a g a z i n e

AS: In my dreams? RM: No, I’m talkin’ about flying on the court. AS: Man, it feels good, it feels real good. To be able to take oﬀ in front of 18,000, I mean, come on. It’s like a rush and the best thing about it is when somebody wants to challenge you. The way I look at it is that when a guy tries to block my shot, he’s trying to embarrass me, so I’m gonna embarrass him. Move out of the way; just get out of the way. RM: Will it be a hard transition for you when it’s time to leave basketball? AS: Not for me, I don’t think so. There’s more to life than basketball. A lot of players say basketball is their life; they eat, breathe, and dream basketball. Basketball, basketball, basketball. Well, it’s the same for me, but when I’m done I’m done. I’ll hang my shoes up and let my son grab the ball. RM: One of your tattoos says “Nobody knows my soul.” AS: You can judge someone’s character, but your soul is what’s in you. It’s like your and God’s secret. Somebody asks you what’s your soul, you can’t even tell ’em. Nobody knows my soul. The tattoo is Jesus carryin’ a guy who can’t walk. He’s been workin’, strugglin’, tryin’ to feed his family and he can’t do it no more. Jesus is carryin’ the guy and it’s like footprints. No matter what you’re goin’ through, you can make it just by believing, by having faith, being positive and having love. RM: What did you do with your first big check? AS: [Laughs] Half of it went to savings. The other half, I think I bought my mom a house before I bought myself one. I bought her a house and a car and everything else went to, you know . . . RM: Where do you see yourself in 10,000 years? AS: [Laughs] Ten thousand years? Man, you know, back in that dream, on that land with all that fruit, quiet and peaceful, with my kids.

Amare Stoudemire continues to jump high and help kids.

Gretchen Bleiler The Cool Warmth of Winter

nowboarding legend Gretchen Bleiler’s voice is melodious and friendly, made more so because she punctuates many of her words with laughter. The reason for all this apparent happiness—that she is paid to do exactly what she loves most, snowboarding—could make one jealous. Don’t be. She’s earned her right to joy, ridden hard, hurt herself, come back and ridden harder—winning nearly everything she’s put her heart into, including two Vans Triple Crowns, two U.S. Opens, two X Games, two FIS World Cups, and an Olympic silver medal. Her peers love her, as do many snowboarding magazine readers who have voted her into the top spot. Summarily, Gretchen Bleiler is a pretty, tightly focused competitor who knows how to have fun and can pack a punch when necessary. Ouch! That’s gonna leave a mark. Interviewed and photographed exclusively for Risen Magazine. RISEN Magazine: What don’t people know about you that you want them to know about you? Gretchen Bleiler: [Laughs] That’s pretty funny because I just did a story and the writer asked my family what people don’t know about me. My brother, my mother, and my dad all said pretty standard things. My coach, Ricky, said, “She loves corndogs.” Not too many people know that about me. I’m a midwestern girl, so I guess that makes sense. [Laughter] RM: Don’t take this wrong, but it must have been diﬃcult for guys to ask you out—I mean most guys usually like being better than their dates at sports. GB: [Laughs] I’ve always been pretty athletic,

so I could never … I’ve had a boyfriend for the past four and a half years, and luckily he’s good at pretty much everything he tries, and he pretty much kicks my butt at whatever we do. I think that’s one of the reasons I love him so much. I could never date someone who didn’t snowboard or love being out on the mountain. It’s too big a part of my life. RM: During those moments when you’re out in the backcountry alone, do you ever get a sense of wonder, a sense of something bigger than yourself ? GB: Absolutely. That was one of my goals this season, to limit my competitions—after the X Games I’m only going to compete in three more contests, in order to get more into the

backcountry, and film more and shoot photos in powder. I spent the last two weeks in Utah with photographer Stan Evans working on that. We’re back there, it’s freezing cold, and there’s silence, not a noise, and there are all these beautiful, enormous mountains around us, and it’s so peaceful. I understood then why snowboarders spend an entire season in the backcountry filming their video part, because it is so peaceful, just you and nature and you have to respect it, cuz you never know what’s going to happen, when a storm’s going to come in. You just never know, and I think that’s so inspiring. RM: Does it take a little time to disconnect from the cell phone and the computer? Summer 2008

GB: I have no problem disconnecting with those things. I have all of my friends always emailing and on MySpace, but I’m not very good at that. I love getting rid of it all. RM: You’ll see two people of similar ability and suddenly one takes oﬀ and becomes a world champion and the other ends up waiting tables—why do you think that is? GB: I think hard work and desire. Desire is a huge one. If you have a goal and a dream and you absolutely want it, finding the desire to get it comes naturally, at least for me.

RM: So many people who get to the top of a sport are driven by unhappiness; you definitely don’t seem like one of them. GB: [Laughs] No, some people who aren’t confident in themselves feel they need to go out and be great athletes in order to get attention. There are so many different reasons why people drive themselves. For me, I grew up with three brothers. I’ve always been very competitive. If I’m not good at something I always work my butt off until I am, to see if I could do it. When I first started snowboarding it was this new challenge that brought a different … it kind of took me on a totally different path than was traditional. I love that it was different and new and kind of brought me into a different group of friends, and I wanted to be the best at it. RM: When was the last time you were bad at a sport? GB: [Laughs] Actually, I played ice hockey when I was younger. All of the girls on the team were my friends, but they grew up in Aspen and were figure skaters before they were ice hockey players, so, naturally, they were good skaters. I picked up ice hockey pretty well—I was good, but not as good as some of these girls. We were one of the few ice hockey teams at the time and we went all over. I remember going to Texas and my coach sat me on the bench for most of the tournament. I was so pissed off and later I had a sit-down lunch with him, saying that I wasn’t a benchwarmer, and that I was 22 R I S E N m a g a z i n e

considering quitting hockey to see how far I could take my snowboarding. He tried to convince me not to quit ice hockey, saying that with a little work I could be really good. I said, thank you very much but I’m done. He still lives in Aspen, and when he sees me he says, “Aren’t you glad you chose snowboarding?” [Laughter] RM: When was the last time you were scared? GB: I feel that I’m scared every time I go up on the mountain. I mean, it’s my job to go out there and push myself every single day in order to be up there with the best women in snow-

boarding. I was scared today, it was a flat light day, freezing cold, and I’m working on this trick. I mean, I wasn’t terrified, but I’m scared because I’m pushing past my comfort zone. RM: Have you ever been scared to the point of being debilitated? GB: When I was in Utah there was this gap jump, kind of like a cliff with a catwalk below it. You had to get a ton of speed and clear about 20 feet and it was a 30-foot drop. If you did this you would maybe get the cover of a snowboard magazine, and this one girl I was with, Jamie Anderson, she did it. I almost did it, but because I’m not as confident in that area, I backed down. I was scared and I also knew that maybe it wasn’t my time to do that. It pissed me off. I think that’s a part of being a professional snowboarder, you have to make difficult decisions in order to prolong your career or stay in it. You have to know your limitations. I think maybe I’ll want to do it someday, but it sucked at the same time, cuz Jamie did it and she killed it. But, such is life. RM: Do you ever have any recurring dreams? GB: I do, but I forget them until I have them and then I think, “Oh, there’s that dream again.” I think I have multiple recurring dreams, but I don’t recall what they are. RM: I would think that global warming is a big issue for someone dependent upon the snow. GB: Absolutely. Go to StopGlobalWarm-

ing.org. I’ve got a PSA and I talk about it as much as I can. I gave everyone a CFL light bulb this year [for Christmas]. Obviously it’s very important to me. Last season was such an awful season for snowboarding. We had a contest in New Jersey canceled altogether. Not only did they not have enough snow, but also the temperatures were not even cold enough to make snow. Then we had the world championships in Switzerland in the middle of January and it’s pouring down rain for a solid week and the birds are chirping. It felt like springtime. Going to places in Europe, the locals will

tell you how much the glaciers have receded just in their lifetimes. It’s so apparent and it’s every one of our responsibilities to start taking action, just small lifestyle changes like teaching your kids to unplug appliances when they’re finished with them, turning off the water when you finish brushing your teeth, not taking 20-minute showers and being efficient, living an efficient life, more like Europeans. People in Europe and New Zealand are so much better with their lifestyles than Americans. I actually have my own signature line with Oakley this year and within the line is a jacket and a pant that are made from recycled materials that are also recyclable. RM: I totally agree with that, but one of the difficulties comes in trying to convince people that they might only need, say, one pair of sunglasses. I don’t want to get you into trouble with your sponsor, but how can you promote less consumerism? GB: I’m a professional snowboarder. I get on planes once a week to travel the world and I drive a car. Oakley’s not perfect, and I’m not perfect, but we are making an effort in the right direction. We want to keep making those efforts. It’s too bad when companies get their hands slapped for saying they’re eco-friendly when they’re not 100 percent. Then they become afraid of trying to make a difference, so they won’t get criticized. RM: It seems that everywhere in the U.S. small

houses are plowed to make way for massive houses and redundant shopping malls that require lots of resources to build and to heat. GB: Definitely, we use so much more than we ever need, and I think we need to get back to being eﬃcient and being smart with what we’ve got and make some lifestyle changes. Imagine if every family did that, how much better oﬀ we’d all be. RM: When people get their joy from something outdoors, they want to be involved with nature, not destroy it. When people are in

touch with nature, they tend to be satisfied and not need to buy a bunch of stuﬀ. GB: Yeah, exactly. It’s not about being materialistic. RM: There are two diﬀerent athletic goals: how something feels internally and how it looks to someone else. Winning must feel good, but what does it feel like to fly? GB: It’s amazing. I go out there every single day and do it. I don’t know if it’s necessarily flying that I love, but the whole package—being with your friends, being outdoors, and pushing yourself to fly higher and higher. That’s what I love. It’s so satisfying at the end of the day. When it’s summertime I love to surf, and the warm beach atmosphere, but when fall comes around, the snow calls. RM: But you enjoy surfing? GB: Yeah, my boyfriend and I just bought a house in Carlsbad [California], near the beach. RM: Is that so you could be close to Shaun White? GB: [Laughs] Yeah, you know it. RM: I’m going to switch tracks for a moment—have you ever been in a fistfight? GB: [Laughing] No, I haven’t. I’ve punched somebody before, but I’ve never been in a fistfight. RM: What did it take to make you mad

enough to punch somebody? GB: Actually …[Laughs hard] I hit someone last winter after the U.S. Open. There were these totally obnoxious frat guys at this bar and we were having some drinks and playing darts and foosball. They were drunk and they started insulting us, and started just honing in on me. Somebody told them to be careful of what they said, and they automatically attacked even harder and said some of the rudest things anyone has ever said to me in my life. I got so angry and we decided to leave. We all left, but I was so pissed oﬀ that I let this guy talk to me

the way he did. I said to my friends, “Hey guys, I forgot my hat inside.” I went inside, found the guy, punched him in the side of the face, went to the counter, found my hat, and left. [Hard laughter] I couldn’t believe I did it, but I had all this adrenaline running through me. When I walked back outside the guys all asked, “What did you just do, Gretchen?” I said, “I punched that guy, let’s go, let’s go.” They said, “You did what and you didn’t tell us?” They had said something about my hair and it really pissed me oﬀ. Honestly, I’m not a fighter, but you don’t treat people that way. RM: What is going on in your life aside from snowboarding and surfing? GB: I just launched my new Web site, GretchenBleiler.com, and this fall I’m working to develop an all-girls photo shoot and halfpipe competition. I’m inviting the best girls in the world in springtime to Aspen. We’ll be offering spa treatments, a workshop on global warming, do some cooking clinics, yoga workshops, and a night out on the town. I’m really excited about it. It’s something I wanted to put together for a long time now. It’s called the Snow Angel Invitational. RM: Where do you see yourself in 10,000 years? GB: Wow, dead. That’s the first answer. Second answer? Um, I think I might have to stick with dead. [Laughter]

Gretchen Bleiler won a gold medal f in the 2008 X-Games half-pipe competition. She lives in Aspen, Colorado, and continues to excel in international snowboarding competitions. Summer 2008

Mark Crear

The Alchemist’s Run Writer: Matthew Jon Marquez

• Photographer: Bil Zelman

nly a few people in the world can say they were the “fastest man on the planet.” It’s even more exclusive to earn that distinction twice. Mark Crear, the 1996 and 2000 Olympic silver and bronze medalist, happens to be in this very elite club. Twice ranked as the world’s number one at 110m hurdles, Mark could literally walk through any city in the world and say, “I’m faster than you, you, you, and even you.” Now retired from the sport, Mark enters the room with his baritone laugh and charismatic style, giving everyone big hugs and “some love.” It’s been four years since his last professional race, yet I am convinced he could give most of the world a 90m head start and still win. Today Pastor Mark Crear shares the news that the power of faith, hope, and love can get you over life’s hurdles and turn anyone’s silver into gold. Interviewed exclusively for Risen Magazine in San Diego

Risen Magazine: You turn forty this year and you’re not that far removed from being number one in the world. Do you still get that “itch” to try to make another run at racing? Mark Crear: No. I have to thank God that I was blessed to do and accomplish everything that I wanted to do in the sport of track and field. Just the ability to be able to represent your country, represent your faith, and go out there and compete is awesome. In 2004, I took fifth and I needed to take third to make my third Olympic team. Some ugly dude beat me, but it’s all good. [Laughs] RM: Are you defined by your Olympic medals? MC: Defined? No. I have done so much, from writing a book, speaking in prisons and corporations, going into full-time ministry, seeing people getting saved, baptizing people—there have been so many other things that outweigh my medals. If I’m going to be defined by anything, I hope it is more by my character and heart to serve the Lord than any medals or records I have achieved. RM: When did you know that running was your gift? MC: I knew I could compete at a world-class level when I was at the NCAA Championships with USC. That was by far the most meaning-

ful victory to me. I was number one in the NCAA and the pressure was on. Everyone was like, “Oh, you’re gonna win!” and I was thinking, Tell that to the seven other guys next me. I had to shoulder the pressure of being number one. For so long up to that point, I was the “other guy” in the lane next to “that guy.” I know what the other guys racing are thinking standing next to me: Who are you to be getting all that attention? And when you take your starting position, you can see the media down at the finish line waiting around the lane they think is going to win. If you are in lane two and all the cameras are in lane six, you’re thinking, Man, I’m gonna show all these people who I am. And of course, you’re supposed to be in the zone like I was—comma [laughs]—but sometimes you can’t help but feel the pressure. I went on to win that race and when I cleared that last hurdle, it was like a hundred pounds came oﬀ of me. It was then I started to believe that maybe I could do this at the next level. RM: You talk about knowing your purpose a lot in your book and Web site. You had a gift for running, but when did you know your purpose? MC: It’s funny, because I think track found me, I didn’t find track. I started track and field in my eleventh grade year of high school. My high school track coach approached me and

asked me to come out and run track. My life was in a hurricane at the time. I didn’t know what I was going to do with my life. I was really lost. I was thinking girls, shorts, tights, you know, and I really went out for that. But something happened when I started running. I fell in love with the sport. Every time that I ran, I just felt this weight come oﬀ of me. This was the one thing I had that no one could take away from me. You know, God is so amazing with his perfect will and permissive will. He will always finish the good work. I see now that even then I was being led to my purpose. However, you have to be always aware, be obedient and submissive to his leading in our lives. I always tried to be sensitive to what was going on and tried to act on God’s leading in my life. There is a diﬀerence to wanting a hand-out and a handup. I didn’t want a hand-out; I wanted a handup. All I needed was a lane to run in and I knew the rest would work itself out. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but when I realized my purpose, I just had to take the first step. We all just have to take the first step; God has already taken the second step for us. RM: You refer to your relationship with God from an early point in your life. Were you raised in a Christian home? MC: Man, wow. Well, I don’t know if I can say Summer 2008

I was raised in a Christian home. [Chuckles lightly] Well, I can say my mom knows and loves the Lord. I believe she is saved. My life growing up was such a roller coaster that the stability of a home life and church family just wasn’t there. At one point I went to live with my dad and that was tough, because I had to deal with abandonment issues and stuﬀ. One thing I can say about my father is that he played

and is going to give me a full scholarship to USC, then it became diﬀerent. I’m like, “Wow, you’re doing this for me?” Up to this point, I didn’t have to worry about grades or report cards. When I got to USC, there was GPA and program eligibility rules, doing your homework, and staying ahead with your classes. I found out that nobody cared that I was an athlete. I had to do the work or I didn’t make the team.

RM: That’s how you began the conversation? MC: Yeah, just like that. He responded by saying, “Thank you, Mark. Praise the Lord. I love you too.” He started crying and I felt as though a thousand pounds lifted oﬀ of his shoulders. You know, sometimes we condemn people so much and all they want is to be forgiven. We’re supposed to love them and forgive them. We put them under tremendous pressure when we

knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but when I realized my purpose, I just had to take the first step. We all just have to take the first step; God has already taken the second step for us.

piano in a church. So, in some ways I was stuck in a church, but I realize now that even then I was still being fed [spiritually]. I think that helped me later on in life when I went to college. Looking back, I can see that God was always putting people and situations in my life that would encourage me to get past the tough spots in my life. Again, it’s a matter of listening to God’s leading. So, God was always a part of my life, even when I was a little kid. RM: Early childhood experiences can shape us into who we are as adults today. How do you feel your early life events shaped you? MC: Man, my childhood was really rough. My childhood was not an enjoyable part. Back then what I was going through and even when I was trying to get into USC, I started to really turn towards the Lord. I remember crying and tearing-up all my papers—struggling. I started praying, listening to the gospel music, and started running towards the Lord. And little did I know that God was looking down on me and saying, “It’s gonna be okay. I’m getting you tough.” I think if we had any idea what God has in store for us, none of us would ever want to do it. It would be too much, but He is always preparing us, you know?

RM: Your experience at USC seems to be a pivotal point in your life, both professionally and spiritually. How would you have defined failure prior to then and how do you define failure now? MC: Yeah, USC was a turning point for me. Prior to then, I didn’t have any concept of failing. The expectations for me were not there early on. But when [USA Track & Field Coach] Jim Bush tells me he believes in me 28 R I S E N m a g a z i n e

But there again, from an early part in my life I knew I wanted to graduate from college. I wanted a degree. I wanted to be a positive representation for my culture, for the black man in America. Back then, there were so many stereotypes of black men being uneducated, a thug, and I wanted to run from the stories of my father and other men in my family that failed to graduate. I realize that I wanted to be different than all of that. There just had to be something different. One of my role models back then was [Renaldo] Nehemiah, who was a famous hurdler, and he spoke so intelligently. There was just this aura about his whole persona that lured me to be different. That’s what I wanted to be. When I got to USC, I realized I was given a hand-up—not a hand-out—to be something different. To run towards something that would be life-changing and good. That’s when I realized failure would be anything less. RM: You mention your father and your relationship with him quite a bit. Have you reconciled your relationship with him? MC: Well a lot of this is in my book, but I did reconcile with him. You know, sometimes you look for people to change and that’s when you forgive them—“if ” they change. But when you start growing in the word of the Lord, you realize that you have to love them through their faults. You need to protect yourself, but you have to love them unconditionally. To make a long story short, God told me if I wanted to make it to Sydney in 2000, I had to forgive my father. Now, I’m not one to mock the Lord’s directions and I wanted to compete at Sydney. So, in 2000 I picked up the phone and told him, [Pauses in reflection] “I want to let you know that I forgive you and I love you.”

don’t forgive them. Nobody wants to feel that pressure. I felt the lift, more so, for him than for me. I didn’t do wrong that was done, but it was my obligation to free him from the things of the past. God had already delivered me from my past; I wanted him to have the same freedom. I think we all have that same obligation to set people free everywhere we go. And to wrap up that story, the circumstances worked out that I got to take my father with me to Sydney. It was a good moment for him. He got to take all the pictures and get out of the country. It was a good moment—it’s something he can take to his grave and know that he went to the Olympics with his son. It was my way of saying, “It’s all forgiven.” RM: You’re a pastor now. What is one lesson you would like the Church to learn today? MC: Oh, wow, that’s pretty deep to consider. I think one thing the Church needs to learn today is that it needs to be honest and transparent with itself and to the generations coming up. I see so many leaders of ministries suﬀering. The system of the church has prevented its leaders from being transparent. Now we have these pastors who are “leading by bleeding” and they can’t tell anyone they are suﬀering. It’s wrong. The church needs to relax and stop worrying about their building funds, campus development, and growing their churches. This just puts more and more pressure on its leaders to be less transparent. Yeah, that’s something the church needs to learn. Pastor Mark Crear is a bestselling author and a nationally recognized motivational speaker. For more information on Mark’s journey, check out his autobiography, Why My Silver Is Gold, or his Web site, www.markcrear.com.

Rainn Wilson Mr. Schrute, meet Mr. Wilson

Writer: Chris Ahrens • Photographer: Tyler Shields

hen I blabbed to everyone I knew that I was going to interview Dwight, nobody asked “Dwight who?” Instead, they offered advice. “Hey, start off with the word Question” (the preface used by Dwight on the hit TV show The Office whenever he is about to ask something he considers important). While I didn’t take their advice I did realize that Rainn Wilson—or more accurately, Dwight K. Schrute—has achieved single-name status, in my circle at least, offering hope to less famous nerds living in quiet desperation. Here then is a leader for them, a patron saint elevating the paper shredder to iconic level. I only watch TV one night a week, and then it’s The Office. At other times I catch the show online or rent it on DVD, scouring everything, including the extras for the big laugh that will surely come. And so I know all about Dwight. So much so that I could even fabricate his backstory—my guess is that as a child he got into trouble regularly for using his BB gun against his neighbor’s pets. He flunked English and saw no point in art, but achieved straight A’s in science after building a shortwave radio to spy on Russian agents living in nearby Lackawanna County. He raised chinchillas for meat and hides, using every part of the animal, right down to the teeth and claws for decorative necklaces that he sold at his roadside beet stand. Facts: Dwight’s forebears are Amish and he would have gone on a lifelong rumspringer if he did not consider himself morally superior to most other human beings. Having a worm farm since kindergarten, Dwight is currently the world’s leading authority on night crawlers. Still, I was a bit nervous in talking to the man who had the power to make me laugh harder than anyone on TV. I had many questions, and one problem, which was not what to ask but who to ask it of. Like many of you, I get Dwight and Rainn confused. With that in mind, I decided to interview them separately. Oh, and I didn’t begin the interview with the word Question, because Rainn would have thought, Here we go again, and Dwight would have countered with another question. Dwight Schrute and Rainn Wilson were interviewed exclusively for Risen Magazine in Los Angeles.

Risen Magazine: Hello Dwight. I have a few questions I would like you to answer. Dwight Schrute: Sure thing. RM: What are the origins of agritourism? DS: Agritoursim began in the Middle Ages when owners of castles would rent their rooms to crusaders on their way to the Holy land. They learned various farming techniques. The Macedonians were very good at that. [Laughter]

RM: Do your Amish roots cause conflict about things like using buttons and driving a car to work? DS: My ancestors are Amish, but I am not Amish. I am a big fan of buttons and modern technology. I try and incorporate the modern world with the more primal world. For instance, if my computer goes dead, I could use it as a blunt instrument to kill a stag. [Hard laughter]

RM: You have a fairly constant smirk. I assume that’s because you’re on the verge of laughing at all the funny things you hear and say. DS: No, it’s because I’m a better person than those around me. RM: I once heard you say that you love Michael Scott more than his mother does. Is that true? DS: Yes, I love him more than his mother loves him. Without even thinking I would put a letSummer 2008

ter opener through my jugular for Michael Scott, in a second, in a heartbeat. [Hard laughter] RM: Rainn, same question: Do you think Dwight loves Michael more than his mother does? Rainn Wilson: I get a sense that everyone loves Michael Scott more than his mother loves him. At some point, season five or six, we have got to introduce Michael Scott’s mother. RM: There’s a theory that ideas came from outside of oneself; where do you think ideas come from?

the Dear Abbey book of children’s names. RW: Yeah, the name is definitely the bohemian type. Although I’m lucky because my mom wanted to name me Thucydides, after the Greek historian and author of the Peloponnesian War. [Laughter] RM: What don’t people know about you that you would like them to know? RW: That they’re welcome to borrow money from me anytime. [Laughter] RM: What do you find funny? RW: That’s a very good question, actually. I just read the new Steve Martin memoir, and I

I think I have nerd genes, because it was in my blood pretty early. RW: Um, wow, that’s a good question. I think that through years of training, in whatever field you’re in, the arts or the sciences, you kind of prime your instrument in a way that you will make the right decisions and gain the right kind of instinct about the problems that are in front of you. In that sense you kind of set yourself up for divine inspiration. RM: You play a convincing nerd; did you ever get chased home from school and shaken down for lunch money as a kid? RW: I think I have nerd genes, because it was in my blood pretty early. When I was in sixth grade I was kind of the same as any other kid, you know, kickin’ the soccer ball and running around and acting goofy. But you’re not really a nerd until you hit junior high school, then, all of the sudden my interests were like reading science fiction books, Dungeons & Dragons, pottery, chess. In seventh and eighth grade, it kind of solidified. RM: Were your parents hippies? RW: My parents really weren’t full-on hippies. They didn’t do drugs, because they were Bahais. They weren’t into political peace marches, but they were alternative, bohemian types. I think most people, a lot of people in those years, like ’69 to ’74 ... everyone was alternative in some way, whether it was eating seaweed, doing yoga, macramé, whatever it was. RM: I only ask because I couldn’t find Rainn in 32 R I S E N m a g a z i n e

thought that was the best analysis of how comedy works. Anyone who wants to learn anything about how comedy works should read that book, because of all his years doing standup. I thought it was fascinating. RM: When I first saw Steve Carell, he kind of reminded me of Steve Martin. There’s nothing suggesting the clown, a guy simply dressed that could be an insurance salesman until the flaws in his thinking cause everything to unwind. RW: Yes, he has such a plain, average demeanor. There’s nothing about him that looks immediately funny. Then it becomes funnier and funnier and funnier. I tell you, Steve Carell is . . . What I find funny is when Steve Carell is at the top of his game. RM: Do think that God has a sense of humor? RW: Absolutely. Yes, He has a tremendous sense of humor. Example? I can’t think of one right now. Um, let me think. Poop, everyone poops, all things poop in some way. [Laughter] RM: Where do you see yourself in 10,000 years? RW: [Laughs] I see myself in heaven, doing a sitcom for the trillions of viewers that have passed away. RM: Hopefully they will all have to pay you at least a dollar. RW: That’s what I want, to cash in. [Laughter]

Rainn Wilson lives in the Los Angeles area with his wife, Holiday, and their son, Walter. During the writer’s strike Rainn spent lots of time at home with his family. Dwight Schrute spent his time oﬀ designing the world’s first virtual beet museum.

Writer: Chris Ahrens / Photographer: John Dole

’m sitting at Syntax Records in Lemon Grove, California, tapped out to the beat, marinating on the words and generally enjoying the uncollected works of RedCloud, an indigenous rapper who at that moment is driving from the hospital after visiting his mother, who just survived a difficult surgery. When a particularly catchy track ends, Syntax coowner Tim Trudeau slides a DVD into his laptop and up comes the song “Tapatio,” accompanied by a video of the same name, starring “Cloud” as Trudeau alternately calls him, and featuring another up-and-comer, Pigeon John. Midway through the jubilant clip, RedCloud enters the studio and takes a seat near me. The video trails off, its main player introduces himself, and we begin talking, not about music but lunch. Following his lead I order rolled potato tacos. By the time food arrives, half an hour later, I have yet to ask my first question, discussing instead everything from the vatos in the ’hood he grew up with, to passive resistance, to the wisdom of warrior politics as practiced by his great ancestors. Turns out, RedCloud is as well-versed in the history of the music he loves as he is in of the indigenous people he hopes to protect. He carries a wound on his forehead from the gang he left and an unseen wound on his heart left by those who were charged with protecting him as a child. And while I could hear an occasional tinge of pain in his voice (and his lyrics), I found him filled with self-determination, love, joy, and gratitude. RedCloud is well aware that he bears the name of a great warrior, a man who sacrificed everything for his people. Please listen closely—Makhpiya-Luta, RedCloud in the English language, has something to say, and not all of it ends in neat rhymes. Interviewed exclusively for Risen Magazine at Syntax Records in Lemon Grove, California. Risen Magazine: How were you introduced to hip-hop? RedCloud: Man, it’s funny you say that, because I was raised on the music of my father— oldies, Hendrix, Santana, Chicago … But we lived in Hawthorne, and growing up there in the ’80s, everybody was into hip-hop. The first time I heard hip-hop, I thought it was cool but that it didn’t hold up to the music my dad played in his bomba, lowrider car. Then, one day in the sixth grade at lunchtime, a bunch of kids were walking to the grassy area. I ran, wanting to see my first big fight on school campus. Then I saw these two tall black guys who were mad doggin’ each other, bumpin’ chests and talkin’ smack. This one guy says, “Yo man, anybody here kick a beat box? This fool thinks he can get me.” I was like, What is he talkin’ about? This guy next to me covers his mouth [RedCloud perfectly imitates a beat]. Then the guys start makin’ fun of each other, and makin’ it rhyme, baggin’ on each other’s shoes, on their clothes, on their mamas. At every punch line, the crowd would erupt with laughter. They were both good and I was tryin’ to pick my favorite. It caught me off guard, and I could see they were makin’ it up as they went along – freestylin’. The bell rings and they shake hands and walk away, in opposite directions, and this one dude has a big crowd around him, saying, “Yeah man, you served that fool.” And this other guy’s walkin’ away with his posse around him and they’re cheerin’ him on. The whole week, everybody’s talkin’ about that battle between those two dudes. After that, I tried

freestylin’, cheesy things like, “Yo, crusin’ down the street, there’s a blue car, it’s goin’ really fast, it’s goin’ really far.” Then I learned about militant hip-hop: Public Enemy, X-Clan, NWA, fight the power stuﬀ. I was like, this is it. RM: Do you think battle rap curbs gang violence? RC: For sure. In high school we’d go to the house parties. My gangs were Hawthorne Pyru and Little Watts. I would go to a party and there’s some dudes from Lennox 13, there’s some dudes from Lawndale, oh snap, Little Mobsters, Florence is over there. Sometimes there’s a DJ and he’d say, “Who’s the best MC in this place?” and someone from this crew and that crew would go. Of course I would step up and grab the microphone and outshine all these dudes. Afterwards it was always like, “Props, Homie.” Nobody would meet in the parking lot, everybody respected. RM: Tell me about your gang days. RC: From 1986 to 1989 Hawthorne Pyru and Little Watts were connected. By the time I got jumped out in eighth grade, in 1991, they didn’t get along anymore and so I ended up getting jumped out by both gangs. That’s where I got this knot on my forehead. [Points to scar] RM: “Jumped out,” what’s that mean? RC: Jumped in means four or five dudes beat you up to get in [the gang], blood in. When you get jumped out of the gang, the same amount of dudes beat you up, just a little rougher, and that’s your initiation to get out,

blood out. Usually it’s very hard to get out. I did it before I got out of high school. It was a problem, but not like I would have had if I were a 12th grader. RM: What connected you with your indigenous heritage? RC: I was adopted at eight months and raised hardcore Chicano. My birth father is from the Chiapas tribe in Mexico, and the Juagenio tribe here, the San Juan Capistrano Indians. My mom is from Jalisco; the indigenous people there are the Huichol. But the biggest Indian tribes in the United States are right here in San Diego, the people selling oranges on street corners, the Cholos running around the streets of LA, those are the warriors of today, the tribes of today. This is their land and they get treated as if they’re trying to cross the Atlantic Ocean, when they’re just trying to hop a fence back to California. We pretend that California, Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado, aren’t Mexico. That was all our land. We’re not immigrants. Imagine being called an immigrant on your own land. When I started getting into hip-hop with some of the homies at my school, we learned about all these chiefs, even the Mexican and Incan chiefs. Tupac Shakur got his name from an Incan Indian chief. I realized I should be proud of being who I am, and who I am is indigenous. Before I become a missionary to Africa, I have to be a missionary to my people here. That’s my heart, the indigenous people. Whether you’re Canadian, Alaskan, the Northern Plains tribes, East Coast Iroquois, one of Summer 2008

those 500 tribes in Mexico, you’re indigenous. That lady selling roses on the corner is Indian, a lot more than the guy with the blue eyes and the Jesus beard who might be a third [Indian]. [Laughs] RM: You could be on the verge of a big breakthrough in your career, but that’s not always a good thing for someone of faith. RC: I’m aware of the traps. I do 150 shows a year. I go from a nightclub to a church the next

morning, from that church to a powwow, from that powwow to a festival, from that festival with 20,000 people to a coffee shop with 100 people, from that coffee shop to a reservation, to a youth group, to an MC battle at some crazy club in Compton. God is awesome; He trained me and raised me in a certain way, so that I’m prepared for war. I’m not lookin’ for Puff Daddy status. RM: How were you trained? RC: I was trained by battle MCs—the Tunnel Rats, LPG, Christian dudes. When I got saved, I didn’t know there was Christian music. I didn’t even know I was a Christian. I just knew that I loved Jesus. I got saved through an ex Blood. Lennox and Little Watts and Redondo were all there. The dude that led me in the sinner’s prayer is one of the baddest dudes on the mic against other rappers. The fact that they would battle and not cuss? You gotta be good—you break that dude down without cussing. It’s improv, so it’s out of your heart and if you mess up, that’s bad. We trained not to cuss, to break down the dude’s ego, cuz right now that dude’s got a big head. Break’m down for the Lord. I get tempted sometimes, I have my crutches, I’ll say frick instead of the “f ” word, shoots instead of the other word. RM: What makes you cry? RC: My wife will play slow music in the car and I’ll think about my mom, my dad, my brothers in jail, my nephews, my nieces, what heroin, crack, and meth have done in my family–that makes me so angry. My pops, my poor pops. My real dad, where is he? My real mom, 38 R I S E N m a g a z i n e

why didn’t she want me? Why was I adopted? I think about my poor wife when I’m on the road. When I see injustice, the treatment of my people. When indigenous people are treated badly, I weep. Worship music every Sunday morning, I’m bawling. I’m the guy in the corner with his head in his hands. Man, all those things make me cry. RM: If I had never heard the word God, how would you describe Him?

RC: Without sounding cheesy, God is love, God is light. God is life. God is mystery. God is real. I don’t care what anybody says, I’m walking evidence of that. If anybody asks who God is there’s an action [Opens arms wide and enfolds them]. A blanket for the cold. RM: Did you learn manhood from your father? RC: A lot of men are stoic and cold. You gotta be there for your kids; you gotta listen, be a provider, a leader, a servant, a disciple. My dad was cold, didn’t talk much, but when he told me he loved me, it rocked my earth. When I got to go in his lowrider, oh man. My dad was that classic lowrider, looked like the logo for Lowrider Magazine. One day I got into a fight with this kid, and I beat him up in the classroom. After school he follows me to my house. He runs toward me and tackles me. My head hit the floor and I almost blacked out. He punched me in the face and then got oﬀ me. He got oﬀ me because my dad was there. I thought, I’m so glad my dad’s here. My dad picks me up and drags me toward him, like chase him, get him. I’m like, dang, I just got knocked out. Man up, that was my dad. He wasn’t the most perfect or most loving father. A little more love would have been good. In the end heroin got the best of him and he wasn’t himself. RM: As you know, many of the old Indian chiefs were like servants. RC: That’s the way I think about it, man. I get to my shows first and I meet with everybody and I hang with everybody. I’m carryin’ my DJ’s equipment and when they break down I help

them. I’m the first there and the last to leave. Ministry starts when you lend a helping hand. RM: What does the name RedCloud mean to you? RC: It’s the name of one of the greatest chiefs ever, Makhpiya-Luta. Before he died he had to make some crazy decisions to save the lives of his people. I want to be a guy who makes those types of decisions, to save his people. When you see the sunrise in the morning, the clouds

are red around it. To me the sun is the best representation I have of God. With it comes life, light. I want to be around the Son of Man, the Son of God, day and night. Sunrise and sunset, like a red cloud. RM: What would you fight to the death for? RC: My people, my Creator, even though He would want me to fight to the life. But I serve a mighty Creator and I don’t think He would want me to kill anybody. Any man can break a building down, but not any man can build a building. Any man can kill a person, but it takes a skilled man to heal. It took a skilled man to heal my mom this morning, to help her. Vengeance is mine, says the Lord. RM: Where do you see yourself in 10,000 years? RC: Man, I think I’ll be sitting with God and asking all the questions, or maybe you won’t even have to ask. I’ll see my dad and my mom and not have to worry about things that get in the way of seeing God, like paying the bills. All the things of your dreams will be waiting for you. You’ll see a lion, kickin’ it. No death. We’ll see all the animals that have passed away. Some people say dogs don’t go to heaven; whatever, my dogs do. [Laughs]

RedCloud’s newest CD, Hawthorne’s Most Wanted, is available in record stores and online through SyntaxRecords.com.

Serj Tankian Too Many Hats Writer: Corey Moss / Photographer: Tyler Shields

erj Tankian’s inaugural solo album is as solo as solo comes. The System of a Down singer wrote every song, played every instrument (with the exception of the drummers who replayed his programmed tracks), produced the project, and released it on his Serjical Strike label. “Too many hats!” Tankian laughed. “It’s been a lot of hard work, but it’s the most fulfilling thing because you can only blame yourself if you mess up. And you cover as many of the bases as you can, trying to inject creative stuﬀ into marketing, publicity, photography, videos…” And those creative touches are clearly evident. Spoken word evangelist Saul Williams wrote Serj’s bio. Serj gave his backing band the all-too-ominous name The FCC. And he’s surveying every journalist who interviews him on the meaning of civilization (more on that later) to ensure he’s “learning something too.” All this and he still finds the time to take on the most important cause of the Armenian race. Not bad for a solo act. Interviewed and photographed exclusively for Risen Magazine.

Risen Magazine: When I think about the making of this record, I picture you in total isolation. Serj Tankian: It was very personal. I’ve had my own studio for years and I have been writing and recording for years. I have hundreds and hundreds of tracks. Some are electronic, some are experimental, some are for film, classical piano and string, some are jazz—there’s rock stuff, punk stuff, goth stuff, noise stuff. I’ve wanted to do a solo record for a long time. People always ask me why. Well, I was a solo artist

before I was in a band, we all were. I have all these songs I need to get out in diﬀerent ways and these are songs I needed to sing on. RM: How, then, did the record take the path that it did? ST: Honestly, I didn’t know I was making a rock record. I just picked songs that would match my voice from the collection I was putting together. Then I started arranging them, starting with piano and acoustic guitar and rough vocals, and then layering and layering. I

guess it could be dangerous because you’re doing it all without a band and it may not sound like a band in the end, but it worked. Modern technology for you. RM: The album covers a vast amount of ground, both musically and lyrically. What are some of the subject matters that are most prevalent? ST: There’s personal love, love stories, pain stories associated with love that are personal but transcend to the universal in some ways. There’s Summer 2008

political stuﬀ, theoretical, and philosophical things having to do with civilization and time and what those mean to us. There’s humor, there’s art for the sake of art, like Zappa-esque arrangements. There’s an acoustic song that’s very dramatic and guttural, an original performance that I left in there, which is where I’m going with the next [solo] record, a lot of strings, orchestral elements, and jazz—more stripped down than rock. RM: Tell me about the title, Elect the Dead. ST: It’s named after the last song on the record.

within those 10,000 years. Every modern religion was built within civilization. None of them came from the indigenous past. And based on everything going on in the world, scientifically, civilization itself is unsustainable in its current progression—overpopulation on one side, and on the other side, depleting natural resources at an accelerated progressive rate. So why don’t we realize civilization is over and just call it what it is? Which opens up the question of what do we do next. And that’s something that would definitely take global communication. But we’re not even there yet. We can’t the-

olution, but it wouldn’t be the end, because Turkey has to stop denying it and admit it themselves. And also then deal with whatever justice requires. It’s a long road. The important thing is more people are aware of it, so it’s harder for politicians to lie. RM: How has taking on that cause shaped you as a person? ST: The understanding of hypocrisies of denial of genocides has opened my eyes to other injustices around the world and that’s helped shape my character. But it’s also my philosophy

The understanding of hypocrisies of denial of genocides has opened my eyes to other injustices around the world and that’s helped shape my character. As with all of my songs, it’s open to interpretation. And I’ve heard some amazing ones. Let me hear yours first. RM: Probably because we’ve discussed politics so much in the past, but my first thought was tying it to the Armenian Genocide, with elect being another word for honor. ST: That’s a good one. That’s in my top four now! I haven’t thought of it that way, but I love it. One is that our leaders today aren’t competent, so we have to look at leaders from the past: JFK, Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., etc. Another interpretation was that the victims of the epitome of civilization should be the ones who elect the next leaders, so it’s a just structure. Those who have died from starvation based on bad health care, for example. Generally, I think we need the wisdom beyond our physical world, even history itself, to be able to grapple with the times we live in today. We need to elect ourselves as responsible people in our own lives to lead ourselves. That wisdom is available. And I think everything points to that direction with Elect the Dead. RM: You said some of the songs have to do with civilization. How so? ST: The concept of time and civilization are interrelated to me. Civilization is interesting because man has been on the planet for millions of years, yet civilization has been around for only 10,000. And everything we call history is 44 R I S E N m a g a z i n e

orize a world without civilization. It’s our drug. We’ve lived in this city our whole lives and can’t see outside of it. We don’t know, we just want to fix it, and that’s what is interesting to me. RM: There’s angst in so many of your songs, yet over the years I have known you, there has always been a distinct calmness to you. Is that because music is such an outlet for you? ST: Maybe. I haven’t really psychologically examined that yet. But a good friend said to me, “Isn’t it weird that happy people make dark music and dark people make happy music?” I thought that was pretty intuitive. RM: The last time you were in the public eye, a few years ago, there seemed to be some progress in your fight to get the Armenian Genocide recognized. [Although 1.5 million Armenians were reportedly killed by Ottoman Turks between 1895 and 1915, both the Turkish and American governments refuse to recognize it as genocide.] What’s the latest? ST: Thanks for asking. There’s another resolution in the Senate and one in the House. In the House, there’s a majority already of co-sponsors, so if Nancy Pelosi brings it up, it will get passed. There’s a lot of recognition and awareness in the U.S. specifically. A lot has to do with the permeation of activity from non-government organizations, including my own band. That’s good to see because awareness is the first step. It would be great if Congress passed a res-

of life that you have to open doors to people and let them in traﬃc. That’s the way to create change. RM: So do you miss having the band around? ST: Of course. People always ask me if it’s better or worse. I think there are pros and cons to both. If your vision is strong, you can make that vision come true immediately. I like to think of it in this metaphor: I love playing basketball with my friends; you pass and you work as a team. But then it’s nice to go out and shoot by yourself on a nice clear day.

Serj Tankian is promoting Elect the Dead.

dept:Miracles

MEMORIAL DAY

The true story of one family’s survival Writer: Chris Ahrens Photography: Bil Zelman

t was the mid 1970s, a great time to be young and healthy, especially if you were one of the top surfers in California and being paid to do what you loved best. Brew Briggs was running at the front of a burgeoning pack of pro surfers, leading a life that most kids only dream of, growing up on the then pristine beaches of La Jolla, California, and picking the numerous fruits of the earth. With model-good looks, amazing athletic ability, and the Pacific Ocean as a playground, he had it all. Yet if you asked him today about the greatest times of his life, those days wouldn’t even garner honorable mention. Instead, he would take you to a day that most others would consider tragic, a day he doesn’t entirely remember because he had slipped into a coma, a day when his wife and four children were hurled through space and caught by hands that don’t let go. But this is not just Brew’s story, it is the story of Sheri, the wife he loves, and a united family that celebrates Memorial Day, not because of those who died, but because of those who lived and now mark out a time that none of them will ever forget.

Interviewed exclusively for Risen Magazine at the Briggs home, in Clairemont, California. Risen Magazine: Give us the details of your accident. Brew Briggs: We had been living in Bend, Oregon, when I got the call that the Windansea Surf Club had a spot for me in a team competition in Santa Cruz. We had been in Oregon for about six months and thought, What the heck, let’s have a little family vacation. We had a great time and decided to head home on Sunday. Sheri Briggs: We spent that night in Lake Shasta and the next morning went to breakfast. The kids were all happy, we went hiking by this beautiful waterfall, and everything was perfect. We got into the car and I took the wrong turn that put us hours behind schedule. When we got within about two hours of home, we had our shoes oﬀ, and we let the kids lay down, for the first time ever, without their seatbelts. RM: How old were the kids? SB: Lilly was two, Emily was five, Nathan was just turning eleven, and Eric was fifteen. BB: We stopped at a gas station and pretty much the last thing I remember was buying

Eric a candy bar. I took over the driving, and the rest of the story has to be from Sheri. SB: We had only been on the road about fifteen minutes. It is a little two-lane road with Klamath Lake on one side and this cement barrier on the other. We were cruising along at 55 or 60 miles per hour when suddenly I looked ahead to see a car pulling into our lane, coming right at us. There was nowhere to go. I screamed, Brew swerved, and we hit the car. I was completely aware, thinking, Oh my gosh, what a big crash, and I kept wondering when it was going to end. The next thing you know, I’m sitting on the side of the road, and I have Lilly, my two year old, in my arms. I have my eleven-year-old son, and I couldn’t get to my other daughter. The first thing out of my mouth was totally from the Holy Spirit: “No weapon formed against me will prosper.” It was like I yelled it out from the side of this road. Eric was in the van and Brew was on the other side of the highway, on the lake side, underneath the van. The kids and I had flown approximately fifty feet, and Brew, who knows? Miraculously, our insurance adjuster was in the car right be-

hind ours. He came to our house two weeks later and was able to tell us that when we hit the car, we flew straight up, flipped once in the air, came down, hit the side rail, and flipped two more times. RM: I heard you describe it as like a flock of little ducklings on the side of the road. SB: I don’t know how, but I grabbed my baby. I was covered in glass, but my kids didn’t have any at all. Because of all the glass in my body, I believe that I was thrown through the window and that they all came flying next to me. It appeared to me that the Lord had just laid everybody down. Lilly didn’t even have a scrape, but later they found a very minor fracture to her skull that they said happened in the best possible place. My son had scraped all of the left side of his body, from the top all the way down. He was just one big, bloody mess, but it was superficial and he was fine. I was yelling, “Emily, wake up in the name of Jesus,” when she started to yell. She was about ten to fifteen feet down the road. Behind the insurance adjuster was a nurse, two cars back, that came to help us. Summer 2008

48 R I S E N m a g a z i n e

dept:Miracles BB: The guy in the car coming toward us wanted to pass all these cars. When he hit us, it put our car between his car and the barricade and pinched us into the air. The insurance adjuster said that you could have driven a semi truck underneath our van. SB: He said that he saw everything flying out of the car, and you couldn’t tell if it was people or blankets. I began praying and praying, but it was not me. I was in a horrible circumstance in the natural, but the power of God was coming out of me, and all these people were coming up to us, praying over us. God just set us up. One guy came up to me and said he thought Brew was dead. The van had landed on its wheels, and his head was less than half an inch from the wheel well. The ambulance was coming when I saw Eric coming toward me. He was barefoot, walking over all this glass, and he was saying, “Where’s Dad?” I said, “I don’t know, pray.” The next thing you know the insurance adjuster is there and he and Eric try to lift the van oﬀ of Brew. He was unconscious, and they had to keep putting the van back down on him, which was just killing Eric. When another guy showed up to help them, Eric was able to pull his father out from under that van, not knowing if he was dead or alive. He had broken every bone in his face, but he was alive. You hear about the peace of God that surpasses all understanding. There was not an ounce of fear. It was so amazing. It was the most amazing moment of my life! I was in total control and we were waiting for the ambulance to come. Brew was the big concern. The injuries were so minor on our kids that they wanted to release them from the hospital that night. They found a minor break in the growth plate of Emily’s arm, but it was so minor they didn’t even cast her. They found two little patches of gravel in her arm that they got out. Nathan was all scabs. Lilly, my two year old, didn’t even have a scratch on her, but later they found that minor fracture. I lost a tendon in my toe and had lots of glass that had to be removed. I had a broken cheek and a head gash, a broken foot and a broken toe.

right knee. My feet had been crushed and all the bones in face. They wired my jaw shut. SB: They took me to surgery and ended up keeping the kids that night. The nurse who watched the kids ended up staying on duty. We found out later that there were constantly fatalities on that stretch of highway, so it was a big deal that anyone was alive. It amazed the doctors and the nurses. We were admitted because of this one nurse, Julie Brown, she was a missionary with eight kids, and she watched us

that night and when I woke up, it was gone. You know, if there was a sign that said “Sign up for this major car wreck,” I would never do it, but I would never trade that. Spiritually, it was a catapult. I feel privileged. There are still pieces of glass that come out of me and I call them my memorial stones because they mean so much to me. Like my scars, I’m blessed to have my scars. So many amazing things happened, it’s impossible to tell it all. For instance, the day before the crash, the Lord jolted my aunt to pray for us. She got her Bible out and wrote the words from Psalm 91:10— He will give His angels charge concerning you. They will bear you up in their hands lest you dash your foot against a stone. She wrote it out, put all our names on it, and put it on our refrigerator and prayed over it the day before. The angels literally . . . I kind of have this picture of them catching us. God has given us a great miracle and now we can go out and move mountains.

She got her Bible out and wrote the words from Psalm 91:10— He will give His angels charge concerning you. They will bear you up in their hands lest you dash your foot against a stone.

BB: I had a broken hand, broken feet, a broken knee, and a broken arm. The biggest one was my

like a mama bear the whole time we were there. On the third day my husband was coming to. He didn’t even look like himself, he was a mess. BB: I didn’t really know what had happened, but I remember the first time they took me to see my wife and I asked, “Did you feel Him?” because I had felt held by the Lord the entire time, like I had been in a Plexiglas ball. I knew that my body had been slammed, but I had no fear and didn’t wonder if anybody was dead. I felt like we were in the hands of God. I was able to leave the hospital on the fifth day. Our experience from that day on has been profound. There’s no way any of us should have even lived. SB: When Brew asked me if I had felt Him, I started crying because I knew we were in the hands of God the whole time. We were on this radical high. Then, the fourth day was bad and scary. I think the kids were in shock and nobody was eating. I found a big gash on the back of my head, and the doctors were trying to tell me that something was really wrong in Brew’s brain. I could barely keep my eyes open when a brother in Christ rushed down from Bend to be with us. After he saw me, he ran around to all the churches, stopped their services, and told them to pray, saying we needed a breakthrough. I was under that feeling until eleven o’clock

BB: My jaw had been wired shut, and when it was time to take the wires oﬀ the guy gave me eight shots of novocaine. Those wires are in your gums and really hard to get out, so he’s putting his foot on my face and pulling the wires out, but I was numb and it didn’t matter to me. On the way home I stopped by the river, pulled out my fly rod, and all of the sudden I started to hurt. I reeled in and on the way home nearly passed out from the pain. When it’s in your head it goes straight to your brain. I was screaming and lying on the couch when Sheri and her buddy came up and said, “Let’s pray for you.” I was in such excruciating pain that I was about to pull my hair out. They laid hands on me and the pain went away. I still can’t explain it. RM: Are you two still in love? SB: Yeah, absolutely. BB: It’s been fifteen years and five kids and it just gets better with age. The Briggs family currently lives in Clairemont, California. Each Memorial Day they celebrate the time of their deliverance. They run a women’s aid foundation called Bridge of Hope. For donations, contact Sheri Briggs at sbrealtor@sbcglobal.net. If you or someone you know has experienced a miracle, please contact our managing editor, Matthew Marquez, at matthew@risenmagazine.com. Summer 2008

D.eath O.r P.rison E.ventually I go to prison and finally hit rock bottom, and realize what am I here for? why was I created? â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Christian Hosoi

he 1950s were innocent, the ’60s were rebellious, and the ’70s were a hyperactive blur enhanced by the rise of cocaine, which along with heroin became the biggest scourge our land had ever endured. Then came crystal methamphetamine. Failing to deliver on their promises, these substances instead led to the fall of many, including four of skateboarding’s most influential players: Bruce Logan, Jay Adams, Dennis Martinez, and Christian Hosoi. What started in the light quickly faded to black. It all began in the late 1950s, before most people had ever seen a skateboard, and a young Bruce Logan tore his steel-wheeled roller skates apart, nailed them to a two-by-four, and began what he called sidewalk surfing. In the next thirty-six years, Logan would win every major skateboarding event there was, including the 1975 and 1976 world championships. When the focus in skateboarding shifted from street tricks and downhill to ramps and pools in the mid 1970s, the boys from Dogtown took what nobody was oﬀering. A kid named Jay Adams quickly became one of their leaders. Jay led the surf/skate charge with a one-two punch felt around the world. Looking to Bruce and Jay as mentors, San 52 R I S E N m a g a z i n e

Writer: Chris Ahrens • Photography: Bil Zelman

Diego-based Dennis Martinez rose through the ranks to grab the 1977 world freestyle title and the 1978 U.S. championship. “He was supposed to be the next big thing; they were grooming him for a top spot in the company,” said Dogtown’s Skip Engblom.

These were all different stories, yet somehow all the same—four kids rose fast, lived like rock stars, fell hard, and rose again, God’s power lifting them higher than ever before. Then came a new era, dominated by technical wizard Tony Hawk and the high-flying Christian Hosoi. Tony had the tricks, but Christian had the style. As the skate star of the ’80s, as he is often called, Hosoi rented WC

Fields’s house in LA and built a ramp in the backyard. There, his legendary parties ran as deep as his talent. Then, one at a time, Logan, Martinez, and Hosoi descended into cocaine and crystal darkness, and Adams acquired the deadly habit of shooting heroin. Miraculously, all four skaters lived to tell the tale, as they, eventually, dedicated their lives toward recovery, channeling the energy once used to get high into helping others stay clean and sober. The idea for a movie on the aforementioned players didn’t occur to me until December 2005, when I was seated across from Dennis Martinez, enduring Christmas hip-hop in a church basement. As Dennis slowly unwrapped the details of his life, a complete movie rolled out before me—the brief years as a touring professional, followed by two decades on the streets, robbing people at gunpoint, playing Russian roulette, watching close friends OD or get gunned down. Realizing that Logan, Adams, and Hosoi had taken similar paths, I wrote a synopsis for the movie. But I would have to write it again and again and again, as the story continued to morph, and some skaters cleaned up, while others went to prison or died, even before a first draft was completed.

It took two years from the day of that first meeting to produce the movie that would be called D.O.P.E. (Death Or Prison Eventually). And now, forever engraved in my memory are four lifetimes of athletic achievements and cheering crowds, hundreds of thousands of dollars won and lost, championship trophies held high and the diminishing returns of the quickly fading rush brought on by the sorcery that stopped them. In less time than it takes to get a high school diploma, all four skaters had fallen from great heights, from a slow-motion dream, into skateboard hell, landing Hosoi and Adams in prison, Logan and Martinez homeless and on the streets. While the rise and fall took years, redemption took less than a second. Even so, the bloodstains of lost friends would remain a permanent reminder, forever stamped on their hearts. This was my first attempt at moviemaking, and in one way it was easy—I mean the story . . . One of the first professional skateboarders and the figurehead of the biggest skateboard company of the mid ’70s meth-driven to a homeless camp beneath a freeway bridge. A pillar of Dogtown stooping to use heroin-diluted gutter water to spike his veins. A rising star just hitting full stride before a sixteen-year addiction to meth and coke took his winnings, his sanity, his soul, and nearly his life. A child star that flew higher than anyone before him, devastated by meth, rebuilding his life in a prison cell. Turning oﬀ a dime bag, they would each find another chance, a new life, a new identity, nearly. These were all diﬀerent stories, yet somehow all the same—four kids rose fast, lived like rock stars, fell hard, and rose again, God’s power lifting them higher than ever before. There were other spokes on this wheel, but it was Dennis who was the hub—his life hopeful as an American dream, sad as Vietnam, redemptive as the cross, thrill-addicted to everything from empty pools and freestyle to guns and needles, an adrenaline-starved participant in games of Russian roulette—six-to-one you’ll beat the devil, before, pow! a nineteenyear-old friend pulls the trigger three times. Game over. The seven-month-pregnant girl who died in his arms from a bullet meant for him. The guns put to his head, the world championship cup traded for $500 worth of coke. The idea was there—the money wasn’t. Then SurfRider Foundation CEO Jim Moriarty suggested I meet his friend Michael Clifford, the man who introduced me to Brian Stewart, the head of the twin charities Boat Angel and Car Angel. We had enough cash (and not a cent more) to finish the film, and we 54 R I S E N m a g a z i n e

hired an award-winning director to help us spend it. While excellent at his craft, the director never did see into the church basement. After trying out two other competent directors and realizing nobody was going to share my vision from that night, it was my turn to attempt to bring this story to life. The first thing I did was call skater/actor Jason Lee, to ask if he wanted to narrate D.O.P.E. He claimed he was a little busy, the understatement verified months later when I looked up to see his face on a Hollywood billboard, realizing he was playing the lead as Earl in My Name Is Earl, the soon-to-be-hit com-

...prisoners were down and we, the visitors, lined up against the wall. The prison was being locked down and we were being held there for our own safety. edy. Natural Born Killer Juliette Lewis fit the profile but was busy doing a play in London. Risen had just interviewed gangster-turnedactor Danny Trejo around that time. We called Trejo, and he eagerly agreed to the project and had us meet him in a Compton bar, where he sat sipping soft drinks, surrounded by a gang of infamous bikers, watching his son Gilbert play music for a fundraiser. We recorded Danny’s hard voice in a van that night, made a quick trailer for the film, and continued chipping away at the remaining rock. We begged favors of friends like P.O.D., Switchfoot, Dance Floor Prophets, and Arrested Development, along with the stable from Syntax Records, including upcoming indigenous rapper, RedCloud, to get the right musical mix. Through the blood-soaked labor of BFC, Scott Yamamura, Jesse Schluntz, and others, the film was completed, but where to release it? We considered venues in Hollywood and in our hometown of San Diego. The ASR Tradeshow seemed like a natural. Then Cliﬀord mentioned doing something at Calipatria State

Prison, where we had filmed, treating men serving up to eleven life sentences to a day at the movies. Because of work by men like Calipatria’s Chaplain Richey, the date was set for November 16, 2007. Through the eﬀorts of the one and only Doctor Prison, national media was secured. Due to mounting security risks, however, we were unable to bring any news cameras into the prison except for Bil Zelman’s, whose steady-handed stills accompany this piece. We moved ahead and soon were seated in an indoor/outdoor prison facility, the sun reflecting against the screen, erasing our two-year eﬀort by noon. Former Manson Family member Dennis Rice took over, telling of his attempt to free his pal Charlie [Manson] with an arsenal of stolen guns. Hosoi and Martinez were next with stories of gain and loss and still greater gain, followed by the beat of RedCloud and his partner DJ Wise, who were just shifting into high gear when something louder than rap broke in and the prisoners were down and we, the visitors, lined up against the wall. The prison was being locked down and we were being held there for our own safety. Hearing that violence had occurred on another yard, the remainder of the show was canceled and the men returned to their cells. We were thanking our hosts, stacking chairs, packing up, when the man in charge, Lieutenant Shawn McLinn, said we could proceed with our second showing, which again was a big hit with the men and, this time, played all the way through. At about the same time we were playing our first show, a team led by veteran Kent Lucas was previewing it to hundreds of inmates in W.J. Estelle and Holliday prisons in Texas, where it was followed by the music of Dance Floor Prophet’s front man Ricky Andrade, who is responsible for several of the songs on the D.O.P.E. track. The Texas report was similar to our own—tears of repentance and joy had flooded the yard. No prison record is required for attending subsequent showings of D.O.P.E., which we expect to play in select theaters this spring. We will also continue doing outreaches to prisons and high schools (thanks to Jon Sundt and his foundation). Or you can order the D.O.P.E. DVD online at www.dopethemovie.org.

D.O.P.E. is coming, and as big, bad Danny Trejo says, “ You’d better watch it!”

dept:F.H.L.

by Matthew Jon Marquez

remain o “remain” is to sustain, endure, be longstanding, constant, and always stay - a word not conducive to our pop-up, A.D.D culture in the West. There is often an unexpressed anxiety with remaining with something or someone too long, right? We tend to prefer the sterile processing and scanning of the next thing for its most valuable assets and how it might most benefit us for the next unseen moment in our lives. There is a quote from Jesus of Nazareth I have been reminding myself of lately, “Remain in me, and I in you.” There is a lot more to the quote, but the first sentence is what has encouraged me the most and caused me to stop my machine like processing of all my “what ifs” and draw deep breaths of relief from fresh wind. The word “remain” hits me with its true meaning of Jesus’ request of my own longstanding commitment to be in his presence. If you are a follower of Jesus, like me, then you might feel the sting of this reality. How many times have we treated our relationship with him as casual as a one of our countless ‘friends’ on our Facebook or MySpace? You know, the ones that add to your total number of friends, but never make your top friends list. You are grateful for their contribution to your status, but have not connected with them in sometime. Yet as followers of Jesus, he asks us to remain in him. To be in his presence constantly. To stay put and linger…and he will in ours. I realize our hesitancy to yield to this sort of consistency. There is so much happening in the world, right? It just does not seem feasible 56 R I S E N m a g a z i n e

to remain in his presence and risk missing the ‘other’ thing taking place. Maybe it just does not seem practical. I get that too. What I also get is Jesus never asks us to stop being in the world. He just asks that we remain in him and he will remain in each of us as we live it out. I tend to forget he wanted to be in the world too. Becoming flesh he walked amongst humanity and listened, loved, healed, and took his presence in the very proximity of the toughest places - even the cross. All in efforts of entering into the presence of our own lives daily. When we remain, we usher him into our life situations no matter where they occur. Right now you’re reading this article and you might be facing a mountain of stress. In fact, maybe you’re reading this magazine in efforts to avoid facing a daunting issue. I hope you come to know you are not alone. You can endure, stand strong, and even persevere if you will take a moment to enter in his presence and remain there with him. Jesus actually desires to share this moment with you and help you through it. I hope you know that because it is true. As much as we are apart of ever changing information landscape, we are also called to be committed to the things we believe in. We are to stand confidently, express our hearts with passion, and embrace the Hope that each of us believes in. However, how can we ever be confident, compassionate, and contemplative if we fail to remain constant with the one thing that has been patiently awaiting our daily attention? Whether it’s the closing moments of my day or with the break of each new day I am allowed to experience, I must take with me the

presence of my steadfast relationship in Jesus Christ everywhere I go. I wished I could tell you every day was ‘walk in the park’, but that’s not how life is dealt to us, is it? However, I am confident the more I remain constant in my pursuit of him, the more I realize he has always been right there beside me. If you are like me, then you know the weight of anxiety’s presence and how desperately you seek a moment of exhale to allow the euphoria of fresh wind and good times to rushin and course through your veins. If you are like me, then you understand the mantra of “My life will be better when….” I hope there are more of you that also know by living this type mantra is to live by a persuasive lie. Please know, your life can be better now and it is a matter of stop living in the “was” and the “what will be” and embrace the now. Anxiety has no weight or presence that we do not give it permission to have over us. The euphoria of the moment is just as simple as the next breath away; even in our most painful and lonely of moments it is tucked in there waiting for us to draw it deep within us and let it go, but we have to learn to remain. In each of these moments, I draw-in deep a fresh wind for my sails and the strength to prevail knowing that he remains in me. And if there is anything that confirms my faith, hope, and love in Jesus, it is my acknowledgement of his lingering presence in my life everywhere I go. FHL is a new and regular column by Risen managing editor Matt Marquez.

dept:Expressions

Writer: Jewly Hight

hile many photographers approach a shot with an eye trained on a particular subject, Jeremy Cowart intuitively takes in the whole of the scene through his viewfinder. His is the eye of a graphic-artist-turned-photographer. Used to worrying over the details of a finished product—be it album packaging or a Web site—in his new line of work he scans the scene and goes after the nuances that shape the fully realized “big picture.” “I recently read somewhere that composition for most photographers is way in the back of their mind,” says the husband and father of two, a Nashville native. “It’s one of the last things they think about. A lot of them may think about the facial expression or the pose, whereas for me composition is number one almost all the time. That’s the first thing I do— compose the photograph—then I think about pose or expression and work my way down. Composition is huge, and I think that’s from being a designer.” Cowart’s unique hybrid perspective is evident in an image of singer/songwriter Jeremy Lister: with perfect clarity he captured a halfshaded dusk sky, distant trees, dumpsters and power lines, discarded sign letters strategically arranged, shadows stretching across the asphalt,

58 R I S E N m a g a z i n e

and the subject standing in a theatrical stance. The overall effect is striking. Another case in point is an Imogen Heap image: her meditative silhouette and the barely visible line of trees behind her are submerged beneath an effect that looks something like underwater papiermâché. It’s texture taken to the Nth degree. While those two musicians may not be household names, Cowart has worked with his share of high-profile subjects—and not just in the music field. He’s shot Sting, Rob Thomas, and the Backstreet Boys; indie acts like Heap, Feist, and Iron and Wine; and a host of Nashville-based country and Christian talent, in addition to Sacramento Kings forward Ron Artest, actors Courtney Cox and Minnie Driver, and the cast of the Fox television drama Prison Break. “I think it’s more natural for me to do a lot of different things, but the world that I’m trying to get into, they want to put you in a box,” says Cowart. “Whether I like that or not, that’s just the way the photography world thinks: ‘Oh, you’re the guy that does this.’ So I’m trying to tune in a little more on a smaller variety. “I like the idea of advertising because there’s a lot of really creative advertising stuff

dept:Expressions

going on right now. The cool thing about it is instead of putting all the time into a full day and getting eight to ten setups and shoot[ing] as much as you can, [for a music photo shoot] it’s ‘Give us one shot that’s absolutely amazing,’ and that to me is really appealing. It’s spending all that time thinking about one photograph instead of 200. That to me is a much bigger challenge and much more interesting.” Considering the work Cowart used to do, it’s not surprising that his photography has a strong sense of texture, color, and overall coherence. He earned a degree in graphic design and founded the Nashville-based Web firm Pixelgrazer, keeping a healthy distance from photography and the complex array of gear it required until the digital revolution hit. “It was right about the time that digital cameras really started becoming a legit way of shooting,” Cowart recalls. “I got [one] and started shooting textures to incorporate into my design work, because you can never have too many stock photos and textures. Most of my friends are musicians, so I started taking my lit60 R I S E N m a g a z i n e

tle dinky camera out and shooting them for fun, and one thing led to another. The next thing you know a [record] label’s asking me to shoot one of their artists with my little camera.” Cowart went into photography full-time in 2005. A month later he was in Africa traveling with relief organizations and shooting his first book. It’s called Hope In the Dark and it features a collection of potent images of people living amongst rampant poverty and HIV infection, with reflections written by Jenna Lee, director of Blood:Water Mission. Cowart considers it his most important work to date. “The main goal was just to put a face on these people,” he says. “I’m most proud of [the book] just because of what it means. It’s really changed people’s perspectives and even mine. Those things are forever, whereas a music photo shoot is just a project. I definitely want to do more things that are bigger than just a photo shoot.” To see more of Jeremy’s work go to www.JeremyCowart.com.

dept:Expressions

Summer 2008

dept:Expressions

Summer 2008

dept:Expressions

Writer: Chris Ahrens

huck Anderson has influenced your life more than you might realize. Just post high school he began illustrating for such clients as Nike, 555Soul, Pepsi, Sony, and Reebok. A mere five years later he has padded the résumé to include Absolut, Adidas, Bic, and Microsoft. His work tends toward an ethereal direction, yet he is down to earth in conversation. With an ear to the street and an eye on our ever-changing culture, Chuck Anderson is all around us.

Interviewed exclusively for Risen Magazine Risen Magazine: We’ve had all sorts of presidents—rail-splitters, soldiers, and lawyers— but never, to my knowledge, an artist. What artist living or dead would make a good U.S. president? Chuck Anderson: My wife was watching that show Antiques Roadshow a few weeks back and there was actually some discussion about one of the presidents also being a fairly talented painter. I can’t remember who it was, so I guess that doesn’t really count for anything. So to answer your question, I think I’d probably vote for Norman Rockwell. I’ve always loved his work and knew he was a man of integrity when I learned years ago that he personally responded to a letter my grandfather wrote him, inviting him to speak at his church. The letter hangs on my grandparents’ wall to this day, signed by Rockwell, and I think it says a lot about him. Not only that, I just learned by doing a little research that he [Rockwell] wanted to enlist in the Navy for WWI but was eight pounds underweight. So that night he devoured donuts, bananas, and liquids and made the cut the next day. I think that says a lot about how hard he’d work to get things done! RM: The world is basically run by type A personalities: function is king. What might things 64 R I S E N m a g a z i n e

look like if an artist were president of the U.S.? CA: I think we’d be able to find much more creative, innovative, and pioneering solutions to problems with someone who liked to think more artistically and had a big imagination. I’d love to see a president during a State of the Union be like, “Oh, hey, I wanted to show everyone this drawing I’ve been working on . . .” Ha. RM: If you could make one law, what would it be? CA: Just one law, huh . . . ? I think I’d make it illegal for anyone to purchase, think about, or look at a Bluetooth headset for their cell phones if they planned on using it anywhere but in a car, and even then there would be a penalty. But seriously, I think I’d probably want to make a law that would enforce fixed gas prices, or something like that . . . or put a cap on prices for a set time, where they could never legally surpass a certain price during a period of time. That way, even if it was a little on the high side, people would know what to expect and plan for. RM: Public art is so controversial—how should decisions be reached on what should be placed in public? CA: On a local level, some kind of vote would

Summer 2008

dept:Expressions

66 R I S E N m a g a z i n e

dept:Expressions

seem to make the most sense. The people living in the town where said art is going to be displayed are going to have to look at it every day, so I’d imagine the best way to decide would be to ask them what they think about a proposed public piece of art.

things, but I honestly just always had it in me to create things and be an artist. So I feel like I was really born with a strong passion to be an artist and then went with that passion and carried it out. So I’d definitely say it picked me and I obliged.

RM: In our time, Michelangelo’s David would not be permitted as a display of public art. What is your take on that? CA: My take on that is that our culture needs to lighten up and stop being so fussy and scared about the human body, especially in the context of a classical sculpture or painting. From what I understand, it’s hardly an issue in Europe, but here in America, one flashed body part and everybody just goes crazy. It’s a sad thing, really, that things like David would be considered vulgar by anybody’s standards.

RM: Do you attempt to convey any one thought through your art? If so, what is that? CA: Not really, I don’t have a specific message in my work like a lot of artists do. Not that I have nothing good to say, but I feel that what I’m best at is conveying moods and making people feel a certain way when they see my work. I’m not going to try to come up with some convoluted piece of art that revolves around world issues or politics, because, quite frankly, I just don’t feel like that’s something I’m good at or really called by God to do. I like it when people respond to my work by telling me it reminds them of their childhood, or a trip they took one time, or a place they’d like to visit someday, or just that it reminded them of a dream or idea they had. That’s what I’m best at conveying.

RM: Do you feel you picked art or art picked you? CA: That’s a great question . . . I really don’t know how to answer besides saying both. There are a lot of things I’m passionate about—I loved playing sports when I was growing up. I was smart enough in school, however, that if I’d really wanted to I could have pursued other

RM: I just got back from viewing some American Indian cave paintings, all apparently spirSummer 2008

dept:Expressions

itual. Would you consider creativity sacred or spiritual in any way? CA: Yes, definitely. I strongly believe that God gives artists their talents and allows them to grow those abilities at their own pace. I firmly believe that much of my success is a direct result of asking God to bless me, my family, and my work. I often look to prayer and God when I need inspiration and always seem to find it when I need it most. It’s without question a sacred and spiritual thing, just on different levels in different ways to each artist. RM: I hate this question, but could you please describe your process? CA: I wish I had a good answer for your question. I don’t really have a set process. Every project both personal and commercial seems to be different for me, so things are always changing and evolving as far as how I do it, why I do it, and what steps I take to get there. So I’ll get us both off the hook by just stopping there, if that’s OK. RM: Are there any pieces of art you covet? CA: Yes, there are dozens of original Ed Ruscha paintings I would love to own. I think it would also be amazing to own like ten Barry 68 R I S E N m a g a z i n e

McGee painted glass bottles. Honestly, I’d pay quite a bit for a few of those. RM: If there was a fire, what five items would you take from your house? CA: Do my wife and my cat count? If not, I would grab my external hard drive, which has a back-up of all my work, emails, and contacts on it (or my computer if I had time!), my Epson 3800 printer, as many of the books I own as I could carry, the KAWS vinyl toys I’ve spent too much money on over the years, and our black Eames rocker chair. Keep in mind, all the important things like wedding/honeymoon photos are on my external drive and I’m assuming I’d already have my wallet and phone in my pocket. I’m really not that shallow. Ha. RM: Do you ever dream art projects? CA: I must, because a few months ago my wife asked me in the morning what time I’d gone to bed and apparently I responded, “18 by 24.”

Chuck Anderson’s book, No Pattern, and many of his prints are available through his Web site: www.nopattern.com.

Summer 2008

dept:Pulse

by Kelli Gillespie Keri Russell – August Rush

>> On Pressures of Performing as a Child Star “When I was on the Mickey Mouse Club when I was young, there were nineteen other kids with me so it wasn’t like I was the one kid and there were 200 adults around. Basically, it was a small high school. So I think that did sort of save me. But I definitely related to that feeling, that performance pressure of being really young and not getting to go to the birthday parties or normal school things because you were doing this other thing, which was great, but there is something to be said for the normal stuff too.”

Dustin Hoffman – Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium

>> On Making It in the Industry

Katherine Heigl – 27 Dresses

>> On Her Relationship with Her Sister “My sister and I are super, super different; we’ve always been like night and day. She was, growing up, more of a tomboy and I was more into Barbies, and hair, and make-up. She has the most beautiful long dark hair and she would never let me play with it. Now I force my agenda on her. [Laughing] Now I’m like, ‘You’re wearing make-up and I’m going to put it on you.’ And now she lets me ... she’s gotten far more patient with me as we’ve gotten older. But it’s so interesting because there is a four-year age difference. When you’re younger that’s huge, and as you get older, you relate to each other better. You understand each other better and that age gap really closes. We’ve become really close in the last five to ten years.”

“My teacher … Barney Brown— when I was eighteen years old and I first decided I wanted to be an actor because I was a failure at everything else—he said, ‘Stay with it.’ He said, ‘Go to New York,’ I was in Los Angeles, ‘Go to New York and study. You’re not going to work for over ten years, you’re going to be waiting tables, they’re not going to really have any sense of your value,’ he says, ‘until you probably almost get to be thirty.’ And he was exactly right. I waited tables twelve years. He was the first one who said, ‘You’re an actor.’ Without him I wouldn’t have stayed with it.”

Ice Cube – First Sunday

>> On Church “My mother always had to drag me to church—it was few and far between. What I see church is about, what people really get off on it, is to uplift their spirits—their daily spirits, or just to set their mind straight on the path they want to live; the life they want to live. Church is a great thing.” 70 R I S E N m a g a z i n e

Eva Longoria Parker – Over Her Dead Body

>>On Handling Business vs. At Home with NBA-Star Husband Tony Parker “I’m pretty much a control freak in business and my career, as far as what I’m going to do next and what I need to be doing now. But in my romantic life, not at all, I’m so laid back. Tony really takes control of everything. He’s really always planning everything. He plans the vacations, he plans the dinners, he plans our schedule … so I really love to sit back and let Tony do that.”

dept:Pulse Lisa Kudrow – P.S. I Love You

>> On How She Met Her Husband

“Actually, I had a checklist and I’m not kidding ... they all ticked off, all the categories. But he was dating my roommate, so that’s off limits. So I ignored him and pretended he didn’t exist. And then six years later we met at her birthday party—because it didn’t work out between them—and we started dating. But he couldn’t come back into my life until I was done with the checklist.”

Diane Lane – Untraceable

>> On Women Who Work

Queen Latifah – The Perfect Holiday

>> On Staying Grounded “I just think it’s my personality type. I’ve never really been judgmental; I always sort of looked at myself as no better or worse than anyone else—that’s kinda where we all start. I’m just very thankful for everything I’ve been able to accomplish, and I know I haven’t done it all by myself and I’ve been very blessed. There are perks that come with success and the entertainment industry, but it also has its challenges and it’s a lot of work. I try to keep it all in perspective. Plus, my mom, she ain’t trying to hear that. I go home and I got to walk dogs and pick up poop. So you know, it’s kinda hard to be too conceited when you’re picking up doggie poop.” Ashton Kutcher – What Happens in Vegas

>> On His Marriage with Demi Moore “For me, successful relationships are relationships people work on when their relationship is going good. Whenever there is an argument or a fight, then you work things out and you work on it … but good relationships are relationships you work on when it’s going good.”

“Women are just expected to change hats; it’s just normal. Whatever your job is—leave it at the office and come home and be mom, cook in the kitchen. All those stereotypes are true. My hat is really off to the people in law enforcement because there is a lot of heart there to do this. Of course there’s an element of pride and ego that you have to have invested, and I identified with that too, of course, as an actor. But to really get the bad guys—oh man, you go to bed and just feel so good about yourself. In that way it’s very satisfying.”

Hilary Swank – P.S. I Love You

>> On Arguing “Something that I think is so important in a relationship is to be able to argue, and argue healthily. I think that’s when you really learn more about the other person. If you’re arguing it means you’re actually speaking your mind and saying what’s in your heart. And you just learn more about the other person.” A veteran of both broadcast and entertainment journalism, Kelli Gillespie travels regularly to both U.S. and international locations interviewing the biggest names in the entertainment industry. Talking one-onone with top talents, she uncovers what drives these celebrities—their hopes, passions, fears, and of course, their current projects. With the world at their feet, what impact, if any, are they leaving? Summer 2008

dept:The Well

After half a century, the writer begins to understand unspoken words.

Unless you become as a little child, you will by no means enter the kingdom of God. –Matthew 18:3 Writer: Chris Ahrens Illustration: Zela

ne of my earliest memories is of seeing Jesus standing at the foot of my bed. I was no more than five years old and it was long past midnight as I watched Him appear, then disappear just as quickly. I ran to wake my mother and tell her what had happened. She believed me, and never forgot the look on my face at the time. Even though this is one of my favorite memories, it became temporarily dim as I overanalyzed it, and smothered it with layers of other thoughts. Upon entering my mid-teens I became certain it was nothing more than a vivid dream, the result, no doubt, of eating too much ice cream late at night. Now, I am not so sure. And it really doesn’t matter. Whether it was dream, thought, hologram, or in-the-flesh manifestation, the idea was planted deep in my soul that Jesus Christ was alive and that He had something to tell me. I was pretty sure He was about to speak to me that night, but He left my bedroom without a word. Perhaps He was silent then because He was waiting until I had burned through my inevitable teenaged rebellion, where I found all my atheistic teachers to be no more reliable than anyone else. As I grew in years, knowledge, and wisdom, it became once again logical that God had visited Earth as a man and told us all how to live. This now seems at least as believable as an infinite universe that came into existence on its own, or that my kitchen table consists of billions of spinning particles too small to be seen among eggs and toast. 72 R I S E N m a g a z i n e

The return to childlike faith is a good thing, and in the adult mind can give rise to worlds long forgotten, wonderful worlds where celestial kings offer their lives for their subjects and glorious kingdoms await the true seeker. The greatest fairytale in the world is true and you can play a part in it! When I was a child I spoke as a child, I reasoned as a child, but I also had the faith of a thousand adults. I had no doubt that a man was swallowed by a great fish, seas were parted by the wave of a staff, a big boat was filled with every type of animal, and a king had returned from the dead. Thoughts recorded thousands of years before my birth eventually found their way into a child’s illustrated Bible, to find new energy beneath the plum tree in our backyard. There I would sit for hours and converse with God, before recording my dog’s sounds and movements, while trying to figure out his language. My goal was to teach our dog, Cookie, how to rake the leaves, something neither of us ever figured out. But I learned a lot about God’s love of animals at that time, not only dogs, but the mice that shared their food with their tiny babies, and for birds that built nests where they laid their eggs, which hatched to give life to more birds. I still wonder how they figured it all out. Then came the long godless years filled with weekends of drunken blasphemy, where lighting a preacher’s pant cuffs on fire seemed fun, until I went home and cried in my bed. I didn’t know it then, but I was merely repeating words taught by those more educated than me,

that God was a myth, maybe dead, or old and sleeping, or watching powerlessly while His creation was poured down the cosmic sink. The chaotic universe was reflected in my thinking and behavior and the seeking of fulfillment that never measured up to the plum tree. In early adulthood I discovered what I knew as a child—that my bedroom and the plum tree held universes within them, and that in them I could learn much that would carry me through middle age. It’s been half a century since I sat beneath that tree, longer since I awoke to a great light in my bedroom. Cookie is gone, as are the loving parents that brought him home to me. Yesterday I sat beneath a diﬀerent tree, in a diﬀerent backyard. It took a while, but gradually I entered the child’s world again, a world where good conquers evil, and good and bad fairies battle for the souls of little boys and girls. The good king lives there and banishes darkness before twilight, turning tears to priceless pearls. It is a place reserved for anyone childlike enough to seek it. Jesus was finally speaking to me, and I heard a message of love that will not grow old as I do. In the stillness thoughts without words and visions and worlds and ancient stories come to life. He has begun to tell me what I was not young enough to understand in my room, a thousand years ago.