"Somewhere in the vicinity of the heart, I feel something hittin me awful hard" Allison Kraus
2008-05-05, 11:15 a.m.

I'm sitting in the library near where I live, working on my paper. I'm in a larger room that's reserved for quiet reading, sparsely furnished with the typical drab coloring of libraries moving towards a computer moderated age. I'm clicking away on my laptop working on stuff, sharing the room with a middle aged man (mid 30's) in a yellow button down shirt and balding brown hair. We had been sitting in isolated silence for about an hour when he interrupts me and lets me know he just bought this book called "Scribbles in the Sand" from goodwill for four dollars and had come to the library for a quiet place to read. I quickly apologized for all my clicking and started to pack up so that I could move outside the quiet study area. When Rhania and I shared a room she told me I'm a furious writer and it's rather annoying with all the clicking. And I am. I rather delete what I just wrote than stop writing.

But then he stops me and says, no, he wasn't complaining, but he was just about to leave and he wanted to share something with me before he left.
He started reading to me from his book.
http://www.amazon.com/Scribbling-Sand-Creativity-Michael-Card/dp/0830832548/ref=pd_lpo_k2_dp_k2a_1_txt?pf_rd_p=304485601&pf_rd_s=lpo-top-stripe-2&pf_rd_t=201&pf_rd_i=B000063RU7&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_r=0M3FNWK5HPG2A8196Z4G
(link to an amazon page for it).

And of course this man turned out to be reading to me about God this that and the other. Who other than an evangelist would would be as audacious to interrupt me if it wasn't to complain about my typing?

My minds first instinct was to write this man off as crazy (inherently all evangelists are). And in a sense, he is unconventional. His attire was normal enough, but interrupting me to read THREE pages from this book? (it went on for a good 10 minutes.

But then I actually started listening to what he was reading about 5 minutes in.

I've never considered myself very religious, though I pray, and I guess believing in Jesus contains a component of religiosity in it, but I don't go to church, I don't condone churches actually and believe they're a breeding place for fundamentalism as is biblical literalism.

But the book that the man shared with me was written for artists of any kind who are Christians, and the part he read to me was less Christian than it was art.
It was beautiful.
When he was done he got up to leave, blessed me as only crazy-for-christ people can, and I thanked him for sharing. that was that.

But I am actually glad he shared, and I appreciate that he took the time to think of this stranger sitting in the room. He didn't bother to preach at me, he didn't try to tell me his own personal experience with god (which can get so annoying). In fact all he did was read to me. And he had a rather pleasant voice to listen to.

Of course then I opened up the internet to type up my experience, and my home page is nothing but how hopeless the situation in Palestine is and how Condi is nothing but a pain in the ass.

But having that passage read to me was a great way to start off finals week and that guy handled the whole thing beautifully.
The passage itself worked to combine the idea of love (for God and life) with creation (for God and/or life).

I find such solace in random beauty and kindness. That put me in a completely chipper mood.

Much love.

"Somewhere in the vicinity of the heart
I feel something hittin' me awful hard
I don't know where it's gonna lead
But I just know it starts
Somewhere in the vicinity of the heart"

Allison Kraus