I enjoy to draw things, but only in moderation. For if I did it often, I must either show improvement or lose the interest of all involved. My friends can really draw - beauty and vision flows from their fingertips so gracefully. Through the loving process of many days, their thought takes form on paper, colorized and brilliantly shining. I, however, rely on speed as my guide. I start with a few lines on a blank piece of paper and work in the moment, trying to decipher what my mind can shape from a few strokes on paper. Shading lightly as I have need, giving the object a feeling of depth and dimension.
The key to art is making use of the space you have allotted to your work. Suggesting shape by the absence of marks, setting forth borders to your creative mind. That is how I work - I act and see how my mind is able to respond. It is not existential, for I will make it purposefully shaped in the end, but it is a process. My end goal is not in sight, it will reveal itself as I move forward. I do have some hopes for what it might become, but I cannot be quite sure that my finite body will carry out my wishes.
It is a paradox for me - I have a vague concept in my mind of something grand that I want on paper, but if I saw it on paper, the concept would be that much easier to translate from theoretical to practical. The art of suggestion, revealing of the finished product, surprising both myself and my audience.
What exactly is art? My friends laugh at me in reply, giving a knowing smile that they will know it when it manifests. It is a perspective, a view of your world captured on paper or clay. Writers, sculptors, painters, preachers, politicians, and publishing editors all may engage in the medium. Indefinable, beautiful, touching, horrifying, hopeful, or deranged, it moves humanity into action, whether it be awe or revulsion. We learn when we observe it.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Motion - Study
The two words in the title comprised a phrase that was frequently repeated in my childhood home. The underlying theme was "You are wasting time and energy! Work at it harder, do it faster, make it a better job!" One trip is more efficient than two sloppily rapid trips. Think before you commit to something, consider the import of your actions. This was drilled into me day after day, it makes sense, but it takes time to do so.
I am impatient at times, preferring to do something decisively and quickly, not always stopping to check how my results will be viewed. In games it has the effect of a surprising opening gambit, but soon spirals into predictability. One who determines to live in the moment and act on impulse is a slave to whim. Many a good beginning has a bad end. I have enjoyed today and am satisfied that my choices have had been harmless and inconsequential. However, these decisions I make today will shape tomorrow's choices, ad infinitum. Life may not be a closed circuit but biblically speaking, you will reap what you sow.
May I cast my seeds of thought with purpose, rather than scattering them aimlessly like today. Motion is but the result of effort over time, its value lies in that it is a measurable manifestation of those changes.
"Never mistake activity for Progress." - John Wooden
I am impatient at times, preferring to do something decisively and quickly, not always stopping to check how my results will be viewed. In games it has the effect of a surprising opening gambit, but soon spirals into predictability. One who determines to live in the moment and act on impulse is a slave to whim. Many a good beginning has a bad end. I have enjoyed today and am satisfied that my choices have had been harmless and inconsequential. However, these decisions I make today will shape tomorrow's choices, ad infinitum. Life may not be a closed circuit but biblically speaking, you will reap what you sow.
May I cast my seeds of thought with purpose, rather than scattering them aimlessly like today. Motion is but the result of effort over time, its value lies in that it is a measurable manifestation of those changes.
"Never mistake activity for Progress." - John Wooden
Friday, July 29, 2011
Downpour - Grey
Wasn't sure what would occur to me today - but nature has made a case for its inclusion.
It has been in the upper 90's day after day this week, the intensity of the heat stunts the growth of lawns and transforms cars with leather seats to be saunas on wheels.
But today, the sky slowly became grey (or gray, curiously titled color isn't it?) and overcast, lifting up hope in my heart for a cleansing storm. As I glance up at my window screen dappled with droplets, I view it in the light of being simply beautiful.
It started as I was fetching laundry from the clothesline - a wind whipping the bedsheets every so often, rattling the leaves in the trees. It seemed that Nature was sighing in relief, as a tired laborer taking a shower after a long shift. I looked to the sky and reckoned it to be both a comfort and a source of awe, such was the raw power of the darkening weather. I hope it rains hard tonight, for sleeping through thunderstorms always spurs me to be grateful for having a roof over my head. I pray for those who don't have the blessings that I am given freely. I pray to He who wields the storm, that he takes pity upon these souls, and watches over them as they soldier through life.
May I ever sing for His praise and glory. Selah.
It has been in the upper 90's day after day this week, the intensity of the heat stunts the growth of lawns and transforms cars with leather seats to be saunas on wheels.
But today, the sky slowly became grey (or gray, curiously titled color isn't it?) and overcast, lifting up hope in my heart for a cleansing storm. As I glance up at my window screen dappled with droplets, I view it in the light of being simply beautiful.
It started as I was fetching laundry from the clothesline - a wind whipping the bedsheets every so often, rattling the leaves in the trees. It seemed that Nature was sighing in relief, as a tired laborer taking a shower after a long shift. I looked to the sky and reckoned it to be both a comfort and a source of awe, such was the raw power of the darkening weather. I hope it rains hard tonight, for sleeping through thunderstorms always spurs me to be grateful for having a roof over my head. I pray for those who don't have the blessings that I am given freely. I pray to He who wields the storm, that he takes pity upon these souls, and watches over them as they soldier through life.
May I ever sing for His praise and glory. Selah.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Honor - Unsung
To my father, as thanksgiving on the anniversary of his birth.
I hold much love, for his patient smile, his joyous mirth.
His laughter and thrill at life as it is. -
Trained me to see blessings with eyes filled with bliss.
He raised me up, his firstborn son.
He bought a basketball goal in hopes of what I might become.
Though I still love that game, my younger brother's passion for it is more inflamed.
For I was also my mother's child, her love of books passed strongly with style.
My father loved sports from a young age.
A scrappy mop-topped twin, though susceptible to rage.
He overcame his temper with discipline and prayer,
And taught me long-suffering when my own anger brought me there.
I wonder how he raised me as he did.
I have nothing but fond memories when I was a kid.
Snipping my nasty habits in the bud before they grew
The moments of discipline pruned the old, kept the new.
I know am frustrating to converse with sometimes, holding my cards close to my chest.
My father waits for my play, he knows my potential best.
He trained himself as a thinker, analyzing for his career.
He is logical and methodical, doesn't play things by ear.
From a young age, the Word of God was his study.
Gifted with great memory, it kept his heart from being muddied.
That same faculty was passed on to me, his counsel and wisdom saved me from the pull of vain philosophies.
These verses I write cannot fully communicate,
The life of the man who trained me in the way narrow and straight.
He is an example for me to follow without fear or shame.
I am quite honored that I will ever bear his name.
No matter how far I fight and stubbornly push for my way.
He loves me deeply, and won't let me stray.
I owe God so much for giving Him life years ago to this day.
I hold much love, for his patient smile, his joyous mirth.
His laughter and thrill at life as it is. -
Trained me to see blessings with eyes filled with bliss.
He raised me up, his firstborn son.
He bought a basketball goal in hopes of what I might become.
Though I still love that game, my younger brother's passion for it is more inflamed.
For I was also my mother's child, her love of books passed strongly with style.
My father loved sports from a young age.
A scrappy mop-topped twin, though susceptible to rage.
He overcame his temper with discipline and prayer,
And taught me long-suffering when my own anger brought me there.
I wonder how he raised me as he did.
I have nothing but fond memories when I was a kid.
Snipping my nasty habits in the bud before they grew
The moments of discipline pruned the old, kept the new.
I know am frustrating to converse with sometimes, holding my cards close to my chest.
My father waits for my play, he knows my potential best.
He trained himself as a thinker, analyzing for his career.
He is logical and methodical, doesn't play things by ear.
From a young age, the Word of God was his study.
Gifted with great memory, it kept his heart from being muddied.
That same faculty was passed on to me, his counsel and wisdom saved me from the pull of vain philosophies.
These verses I write cannot fully communicate,
The life of the man who trained me in the way narrow and straight.
He is an example for me to follow without fear or shame.
I am quite honored that I will ever bear his name.
No matter how far I fight and stubbornly push for my way.
He loves me deeply, and won't let me stray.
I owe God so much for giving Him life years ago to this day.
Use - Eyes
It is nice that my father's birthday conveniently falls upon tomorrow, my day in which I try my hand at spontaneous poetry. I hope to honor him well, as he is quite an amazing fellow. I know that all children look to their dads at some point and think him great, but it is still true in my case. The years have only served to deepen my appreciation for my father and all the love and patience he has bestowed in guiding my life. A lot of this sentiment will flow in the following post, if God grants me the wit and clarity to express it in words.
This day went remarkably well, alternately working small tasks, listening to Leon Patillo's "Dance Children Dance" which I bought as a gift for tomorrow, and reading short essays by James Thurber. Thurber never ceases to delight me, as with P.G. Wodehouse's whims of fate, so with Thurber's daydreaming a supposed timidity away. His "Snapshot of a Dog" piece is particularly good, for the reason that Thurber is nostalgically fond of its subject. "The dog that bit people" is humorous in its accuracy - I have held the acquaintance of such miserable specimens before. Those are my thoughts for today, until tomorrow's sunrise, I leave you.
This day went remarkably well, alternately working small tasks, listening to Leon Patillo's "Dance Children Dance" which I bought as a gift for tomorrow, and reading short essays by James Thurber. Thurber never ceases to delight me, as with P.G. Wodehouse's whims of fate, so with Thurber's daydreaming a supposed timidity away. His "Snapshot of a Dog" piece is particularly good, for the reason that Thurber is nostalgically fond of its subject. "The dog that bit people" is humorous in its accuracy - I have held the acquaintance of such miserable specimens before. Those are my thoughts for today, until tomorrow's sunrise, I leave you.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Affliction - Experience
"Not much for conversation, I still find need to pray. Sometimes I get tired of walking through these ordinary days. If nothing else I get to see you, even if we never speak. The harm of words, though sometimes We don't quite know what they really mean.
I don't know where, I don't know how, I don't know why. But your love can make these things better.
So let me lay down in this field and stare up at the sky. I hope the days and clouds turn into something as they pass us by. And maybe you could settle for a skyline faded blue. I hope that you might settle for this love I have for you." - Jars of Clay "These Ordinary Days" (Eleventh Hour)
I rest in the knowledge that although the weather has been hot and humid, there is the breeze to abate overheating. In all the everyday obstacles and problems, there are small blessings and beauty as well. I will not be blindly advising you to sardonically smile in the face of hardship, but to be mindful of what you can learn through its duration. Maybe you will weather it better the next time a similar problem arises. Possibly you may cross paths with another struggling with the same emotions, and an opportunity to empathize will open. The world isn't against any one person in particular, so do not wallow in self pity or woe. Set your face like a flint and your shoulders to bear burdens for others. Even if they do not reciprocate, your actions will be observed by bystanding innocents - setting an example for how a life is to be lived.
"And he sat down, and called the twelve, and saith unto them, If any man desire to be first, the same shall be last of all, and servant of all." - Mark 9:35
"And whosoever of you will be the chiefest, shall be servant of all." - Mark 10:44
"And if any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also. And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain. Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away. Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you; That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust." - Matthew 5:40-45
I don't know where, I don't know how, I don't know why. But your love can make these things better.
So let me lay down in this field and stare up at the sky. I hope the days and clouds turn into something as they pass us by. And maybe you could settle for a skyline faded blue. I hope that you might settle for this love I have for you." - Jars of Clay "These Ordinary Days" (Eleventh Hour)
I rest in the knowledge that although the weather has been hot and humid, there is the breeze to abate overheating. In all the everyday obstacles and problems, there are small blessings and beauty as well. I will not be blindly advising you to sardonically smile in the face of hardship, but to be mindful of what you can learn through its duration. Maybe you will weather it better the next time a similar problem arises. Possibly you may cross paths with another struggling with the same emotions, and an opportunity to empathize will open. The world isn't against any one person in particular, so do not wallow in self pity or woe. Set your face like a flint and your shoulders to bear burdens for others. Even if they do not reciprocate, your actions will be observed by bystanding innocents - setting an example for how a life is to be lived.
"And he sat down, and called the twelve, and saith unto them, If any man desire to be first, the same shall be last of all, and servant of all." - Mark 9:35
"And whosoever of you will be the chiefest, shall be servant of all." - Mark 10:44
"And if any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also. And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain. Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away. Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you; That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust." - Matthew 5:40-45
Monday, July 25, 2011
1337- 9000+ - 5555
All the above numbers have side meanings according to the internet.
The first is "elite" in gamer vocabulary, the highest honor and designation, a Master statistic.
The Second is derived from a Dragon Ball Z episode in which a character's power level is "over 9000," an outrageous measuring system for ki - Japanese mental focus.
5555 is primarily claimed by Daft Punk's animated film, "Interstellar 5555 - 5tory of the 5ecret 5tar 5ystem." A immortal gains world ending power upon obtaining five-thousand-five-hundred-fifty-five golden records. Absurd idea, but also an incredible one.
Numbers are fundamentally unemotional, but for the stories and significance people attached to them. Words may be strung together to make beautiful prose or cutting commentary to the human condition. Numbers are used to measure, calculate, and qualify our progress throughout life. It is a human mindset to attach significance to objects surrounding their everyday lives - it makes them notable and thus easier to care about.
However, we also have a tendency to extend this to people in the form of stereotypes - Which are handy, even eerily accurate at times, but are not definitive measures of individual people. For once we can categorize, we can trivialize, and stop taking note of new data or trends. By the time the person or object changes through time's processes, we merely glance and update our labels of them.
We cannot conceive the totality of another human being in its complexity - its whims, its habits, its loves. Humans are beautiful, fragile, and vivacious, seizing the moment and carrying the day. Yet we fear what others think of our actions, what they will call us. I will attempt to live in the wonder of free will and the dignity of being made in the image of God. For though we may attach meaning and stories to the objects around us, it is poor form to treat meaningful and living people as if they were objects.
The first is "elite" in gamer vocabulary, the highest honor and designation, a Master statistic.
The Second is derived from a Dragon Ball Z episode in which a character's power level is "over 9000," an outrageous measuring system for ki - Japanese mental focus.
5555 is primarily claimed by Daft Punk's animated film, "Interstellar 5555 - 5tory of the 5ecret 5tar 5ystem." A immortal gains world ending power upon obtaining five-thousand-five-hundred-fifty-five golden records. Absurd idea, but also an incredible one.
Numbers are fundamentally unemotional, but for the stories and significance people attached to them. Words may be strung together to make beautiful prose or cutting commentary to the human condition. Numbers are used to measure, calculate, and qualify our progress throughout life. It is a human mindset to attach significance to objects surrounding their everyday lives - it makes them notable and thus easier to care about.
However, we also have a tendency to extend this to people in the form of stereotypes - Which are handy, even eerily accurate at times, but are not definitive measures of individual people. For once we can categorize, we can trivialize, and stop taking note of new data or trends. By the time the person or object changes through time's processes, we merely glance and update our labels of them.
We cannot conceive the totality of another human being in its complexity - its whims, its habits, its loves. Humans are beautiful, fragile, and vivacious, seizing the moment and carrying the day. Yet we fear what others think of our actions, what they will call us. I will attempt to live in the wonder of free will and the dignity of being made in the image of God. For though we may attach meaning and stories to the objects around us, it is poor form to treat meaningful and living people as if they were objects.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Turntable - Replay
I don't play an instrument, but I do enjoy listening to them. Some people purport taking music seriously, but play it as a soundtrack, a background noise to their life. I don't do things halfway - if there is a song I like, I want to listen and share it with others. It is cliche to say I like all music, for I do not - risque beats and obscene lyrical hooks have no welcome purchase in my mind.
Enjoyment of music is an odd human convention. Sure, birds and creatures use their gifts to fill the air with the symphony of their noise, but humans use tools to create and arrange their musical compositions. We use objects that we do not naturally have in order to resonate sounds we find exciting, soothing, or curious to our ears and heartbeat.
I don't have much to say today, so I will list my current 25 favorite songs in no particular order.
1. Goodbye, Goodnight - Jars of Clay
2. Peace (Communion Blessing in St. Joseph's Square) - Rich Mullins
3. Ready for the Storm - Rich Mullins
4. I'll Carry On - Rich Mullins
5. Unwinding Cable Car - Anberlin
6. Lullaby for a Stormy Night - Vienna Teng
7. When the Rain Comes - Third Day
8. Show Me Your Glory - Third Day
9. Mile Away - Capital Lights
10. Welcome to the Black Parade - My Chemical Romance
11. 100 Years - Five For Fighting
12. This is Home (Switchfoot Greatest Hits album version) - Switchfoot
13. Drunken Lullabies - Flogging Molly
14. God's Own Fool - Michael Card
15. The Little Girl - John Michael Montgomery
16. Chronicles of Life and Death - Good Charlotte
17. No One Like You - David Crowder Band
18. Foreverandeverandeveretc. - David Crowder Band
19. Sing of your Mercy (Valley Song) - Jars of Clay
20. Frail - Jars of Clay
21. Everybody's Changing - Keane
22. Storm - Lifehouse
23. Shadow of the Day - Linkin Park
24. Leave Out All the Rest - Linkin Park
25. Be with You - Rich Mullins
This is merely a jumble of what I see on iTunes, sedimentary songs flowing like rivers through familiar ruts in my mind, and hopes for future enjoyment.
Enjoyment of music is an odd human convention. Sure, birds and creatures use their gifts to fill the air with the symphony of their noise, but humans use tools to create and arrange their musical compositions. We use objects that we do not naturally have in order to resonate sounds we find exciting, soothing, or curious to our ears and heartbeat.
I don't have much to say today, so I will list my current 25 favorite songs in no particular order.
1. Goodbye, Goodnight - Jars of Clay
2. Peace (Communion Blessing in St. Joseph's Square) - Rich Mullins
3. Ready for the Storm - Rich Mullins
4. I'll Carry On - Rich Mullins
5. Unwinding Cable Car - Anberlin
6. Lullaby for a Stormy Night - Vienna Teng
7. When the Rain Comes - Third Day
8. Show Me Your Glory - Third Day
9. Mile Away - Capital Lights
10. Welcome to the Black Parade - My Chemical Romance
11. 100 Years - Five For Fighting
12. This is Home (Switchfoot Greatest Hits album version) - Switchfoot
13. Drunken Lullabies - Flogging Molly
14. God's Own Fool - Michael Card
15. The Little Girl - John Michael Montgomery
16. Chronicles of Life and Death - Good Charlotte
17. No One Like You - David Crowder Band
18. Foreverandeverandeveretc. - David Crowder Band
19. Sing of your Mercy (Valley Song) - Jars of Clay
20. Frail - Jars of Clay
21. Everybody's Changing - Keane
22. Storm - Lifehouse
23. Shadow of the Day - Linkin Park
24. Leave Out All the Rest - Linkin Park
25. Be with You - Rich Mullins
This is merely a jumble of what I see on iTunes, sedimentary songs flowing like rivers through familiar ruts in my mind, and hopes for future enjoyment.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Reunion - Felt
I saw a video today about the unfortunate souls in other countries, and my heart went out to the children. But what can I do about this feeling? How can I make a difference with my station in life?
There are children just as desperate and needy within the confines of America, but they aren't looked upon in the same light. When I went out of country, I noticed the homeless more keenly than when walking downtown stateside. I am conditioned by the dictates of common sense that many who panhandle for money don't really need it.
But I do know that there exist others who would and could need a hand up, a boost to succeed in life. How can I tell? How can I help? I am told to distrust these people I see, but am I turning away from a needy person or from a societal parasite? I am told that those who want work can get it, that those who have a good attitude and a willingness to serve faithfully will receive their due. I am told that this is one reason why immigrants and internationals are working American jobs - they will work harder and be grateful for opportunities as they arise.
I am not calling Americans out on being lazy or shiftless, though many are; I just happen to think that we have become a proud and blind nation. We are a country of people with a sense of entitlement - we "deserve" a good salaried position upon graduation. That there are jobs beneath our dignity and education. I have friends who graduate from college, get a job, then dump it for a better paying one a couple of months later. This "pads" their resumes and gives them the impression for "versatility." Businesses outside America often don't share this mentality. You get a job for some Japanese corporations, and you are loyal for life. These entities treat their workers as their most important resource, above even profit.
Faithful workers are created when they know that their employers are looking out for them, that they have something towards which to work - a common goal. Christian businesses should ideally operate in this way, we are to be as servants to all. My own knowledge of these matters may be incomplete, naive, and even foolish. But some ideals are worth the fighting, worth the hope that arises in my heart. But I cannot give what I myself do not possess, so I must use this period in my life to study and learn such skills that will position me to do so.
I must work to provide for myself and my needs before I can serve the lives of others. I hope that the world still accepts loyalty, faithfulness, and commitment as desirable attributes when that day comes.
There are children just as desperate and needy within the confines of America, but they aren't looked upon in the same light. When I went out of country, I noticed the homeless more keenly than when walking downtown stateside. I am conditioned by the dictates of common sense that many who panhandle for money don't really need it.
But I do know that there exist others who would and could need a hand up, a boost to succeed in life. How can I tell? How can I help? I am told to distrust these people I see, but am I turning away from a needy person or from a societal parasite? I am told that those who want work can get it, that those who have a good attitude and a willingness to serve faithfully will receive their due. I am told that this is one reason why immigrants and internationals are working American jobs - they will work harder and be grateful for opportunities as they arise.
I am not calling Americans out on being lazy or shiftless, though many are; I just happen to think that we have become a proud and blind nation. We are a country of people with a sense of entitlement - we "deserve" a good salaried position upon graduation. That there are jobs beneath our dignity and education. I have friends who graduate from college, get a job, then dump it for a better paying one a couple of months later. This "pads" their resumes and gives them the impression for "versatility." Businesses outside America often don't share this mentality. You get a job for some Japanese corporations, and you are loyal for life. These entities treat their workers as their most important resource, above even profit.
Faithful workers are created when they know that their employers are looking out for them, that they have something towards which to work - a common goal. Christian businesses should ideally operate in this way, we are to be as servants to all. My own knowledge of these matters may be incomplete, naive, and even foolish. But some ideals are worth the fighting, worth the hope that arises in my heart. But I cannot give what I myself do not possess, so I must use this period in my life to study and learn such skills that will position me to do so.
I must work to provide for myself and my needs before I can serve the lives of others. I hope that the world still accepts loyalty, faithfulness, and commitment as desirable attributes when that day comes.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Work - Rest.
I was awaiting today with much excitement and vigor - I was to rejoin my former companions in a day of labor. I was too old to be considered for the long haul of the week long grind of volunteering, but this last day, I was allowed to participate. It was more of a treat to labor alongside my father than even my young friends. It is such a blessing to have such an active and enthusiastic father, one who takes the time to do these things with me. The weather was been intense and humid, averaging nearly 100 degrees. Into this environment, my friends and I armed ourselves with mowers, trimmers, and loppers to tame an injured friend's unruly yard.
The last 30 minutes of my efforts were spent culling the tall weeds and grass with a push mower. Up and down slight inclines and corners where branches brushed my face. Finally, I completed my rounds, crying in triumph at my accomplishment. I am quite grateful that this landscaping is for a good purpose, for I am not up to pursuing this as a career.
Man was made to work, to enjoy the process of reaping the fruits of his labor. In doing so, he may feel justified and content that he has earned his period of rest and recuperation. That is what I plan to do - to recoup my strength, and sally forth again to essay some other task.
Much respect for those who do engage in the business of landscaping. I salute you! Now to shower...
The last 30 minutes of my efforts were spent culling the tall weeds and grass with a push mower. Up and down slight inclines and corners where branches brushed my face. Finally, I completed my rounds, crying in triumph at my accomplishment. I am quite grateful that this landscaping is for a good purpose, for I am not up to pursuing this as a career.
Man was made to work, to enjoy the process of reaping the fruits of his labor. In doing so, he may feel justified and content that he has earned his period of rest and recuperation. That is what I plan to do - to recoup my strength, and sally forth again to essay some other task.
Much respect for those who do engage in the business of landscaping. I salute you! Now to shower...
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Plants - luckless
It happened I was thinking of plants today,
Though I have a withering thumb [green ones ran out before me. :(].
I still water, I keep digging in hopes that my efforts will yet yield something.
For every rose has its thorns, the needles - their thread.
I have a cursed touch, plants around me fall dead.
Even with a grass trimmer I am green's bane.
My path leaves behind a dirty brown train.
This drought hasn't amended my annihilating ways.
I hope for rainfall, instead of humidity and sun's intense gaze.
I'll take a storm over the weight of warm,
The thunder and lightnings reign; The wind in the trees
And the wet airborne seas, that flood earthwards into bountiful gain.
So the vegetation below, the plants drink and grow.
These yellowed Rose of Sharons to rise.
(I bear the fault of those flower's untimely demise).
I had been told to uproot, these misnamed bushes' sapling shoots,
Then left them in a bucket in my car.
By the time I arrived home, the spouts had sagged low.
Intervention through inundation was due!
That operation was doomed, they had sent out last blooms.
Their stalks have shriveled and curled.
Those Sharon's roses have fallen, on hard times they are crawling -
For the chances of their survival are slim.
But I'll do what I can, though no garden fan.
I sure hope that these plants can swim.
(Gushing rubber hose...)
Though I have a withering thumb [green ones ran out before me. :(].
I still water, I keep digging in hopes that my efforts will yet yield something.
For every rose has its thorns, the needles - their thread.
I have a cursed touch, plants around me fall dead.
Even with a grass trimmer I am green's bane.
My path leaves behind a dirty brown train.
This drought hasn't amended my annihilating ways.
I hope for rainfall, instead of humidity and sun's intense gaze.
I'll take a storm over the weight of warm,
The thunder and lightnings reign; The wind in the trees
And the wet airborne seas, that flood earthwards into bountiful gain.
So the vegetation below, the plants drink and grow.
These yellowed Rose of Sharons to rise.
(I bear the fault of those flower's untimely demise).
I had been told to uproot, these misnamed bushes' sapling shoots,
Then left them in a bucket in my car.
By the time I arrived home, the spouts had sagged low.
Intervention through inundation was due!
That operation was doomed, they had sent out last blooms.
Their stalks have shriveled and curled.
Those Sharon's roses have fallen, on hard times they are crawling -
For the chances of their survival are slim.
But I'll do what I can, though no garden fan.
I sure hope that these plants can swim.
(Gushing rubber hose...)
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Connectedness - Isolation
I was willing to throw myself into the gears of the internet. While I was initially reluctant to have even an email account, I now have a blog (this and and my reviewing FalchionFiction one), a facebook page, a twitter account, and now Google +. Yet with all this activity and profiling, I haven't gained anything of value or meaning. People are usually too concerned with creating their own material to notice mine.
It is a freeing thought to imagine that whatever I say, only people that care will find it and understand. I don't consider things sometimes, and muse to myself a lot. It is nice to know that others are as interested as me in the consideration of ideas. As aforementioned, yes, I am available online as a willing responder to questions asked. However, I am entertained even if no one has the time or inclination to do so.
I find people and their idiosyncrasies to be interesting and even endearing in some cases. I may not have many to comment on what I have to say, but I know I am heard by those who matter.
I love quotes and the thought put behind a clever turn of phrase or observation. Parameters force people to be creative, and that is where I believe Twitter received its allure. Why 140 characters? Because it should make you think twice before you share something - can you think of a better word to convey what you really mean? Of course, there are trolls and fools to be found in any media, wanting to be noticed.
I don't wish to hurt anyone's feelings when I put myself on the line. In my mission to provoke others to think, I want to be as wise as a serpent, and harmless as a dove. (Matthew 10:16)
It is a freeing thought to imagine that whatever I say, only people that care will find it and understand. I don't consider things sometimes, and muse to myself a lot. It is nice to know that others are as interested as me in the consideration of ideas. As aforementioned, yes, I am available online as a willing responder to questions asked. However, I am entertained even if no one has the time or inclination to do so.
I find people and their idiosyncrasies to be interesting and even endearing in some cases. I may not have many to comment on what I have to say, but I know I am heard by those who matter.
I love quotes and the thought put behind a clever turn of phrase or observation. Parameters force people to be creative, and that is where I believe Twitter received its allure. Why 140 characters? Because it should make you think twice before you share something - can you think of a better word to convey what you really mean? Of course, there are trolls and fools to be found in any media, wanting to be noticed.
I don't wish to hurt anyone's feelings when I put myself on the line. In my mission to provoke others to think, I want to be as wise as a serpent, and harmless as a dove. (Matthew 10:16)
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Deadlines - Lifelines
I procrastinate a little, but I do try to meet requirements when the time requires. I love libraries, for they call me out on my habits. A book, or any item for that matter, is more interesting and precious when owned by someone else. You are a steward of the said something until the owner reclaims it. I have had stacks of books that I collect from the library shelves that look intriguing, have a good title, or are by a favored author of mine. The tricky part is "Where to begin?" Do I hold an obligation to complete previous novels and tomes before I crack open a more recent find?
This waffling paralyzes me from doing anything at all. The simple solution would to be to take what is at hand and enjoy it for what it reveals. If it isn't interesting, that is one less from my stack, clearing the space for a more suitable read. If the book manifests as a page turner - I ride it for all it is worth. In savoring a rich adventure, my life is that much more improved. I need not worry about the others I am not experiencing, my time is invested in the present. When I complete the tale, I will repeat the process.
The time you have with a library book is valued, for you know that you cannot hold onto it forever, procrastinating a meeting with the knowledge and players within. So it is with my life and the lives I love. We are given this life, but we know instinctively that we will not always have the promise of tomorrow. I must learn to take in the moment as I do a book - analyzing, reading between the lines, anticipating the next twist, drinking in with a smile in my face. It is an honor to have a window to the Author's mind. That is a double entendre, but a happy one - As I have access to those brave souls who put their imagination on display, the Creator of the Universe left a testimony to His-story, the love He has for us, and His plans for the future.
My life is His, and while I live on His grace and the time He has granted me. I will live as if my actions have purpose, my life to be a reflection of the Most High. He is my Father, and I His adopted son.
"Henceforth I call you not servants; for the servant knoweth not what his lord doeth: but I have called you friends; for all things that I have heard of my Father I have made known unto you." John 15:15
"But you are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you. Now if anyone does not have the Spirit of Christ, he is not His. And if Christ is in you, the body is dead because of sin, but the Spirit is life because of righteousness. But if the Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, He who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through His Spirit who dwells in you. Therefore, brethren, we are debtors—not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh. For if you live according to the flesh you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, these are sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of bondage again to fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, “Abba, Father.” The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him, that we may also be glorified together. For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us." Romans 8:9-18
This waffling paralyzes me from doing anything at all. The simple solution would to be to take what is at hand and enjoy it for what it reveals. If it isn't interesting, that is one less from my stack, clearing the space for a more suitable read. If the book manifests as a page turner - I ride it for all it is worth. In savoring a rich adventure, my life is that much more improved. I need not worry about the others I am not experiencing, my time is invested in the present. When I complete the tale, I will repeat the process.
The time you have with a library book is valued, for you know that you cannot hold onto it forever, procrastinating a meeting with the knowledge and players within. So it is with my life and the lives I love. We are given this life, but we know instinctively that we will not always have the promise of tomorrow. I must learn to take in the moment as I do a book - analyzing, reading between the lines, anticipating the next twist, drinking in with a smile in my face. It is an honor to have a window to the Author's mind. That is a double entendre, but a happy one - As I have access to those brave souls who put their imagination on display, the Creator of the Universe left a testimony to His-story, the love He has for us, and His plans for the future.
My life is His, and while I live on His grace and the time He has granted me. I will live as if my actions have purpose, my life to be a reflection of the Most High. He is my Father, and I His adopted son.
"Henceforth I call you not servants; for the servant knoweth not what his lord doeth: but I have called you friends; for all things that I have heard of my Father I have made known unto you." John 15:15
"But you are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you. Now if anyone does not have the Spirit of Christ, he is not His. And if Christ is in you, the body is dead because of sin, but the Spirit is life because of righteousness. But if the Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, He who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through His Spirit who dwells in you. Therefore, brethren, we are debtors—not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh. For if you live according to the flesh you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, these are sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of bondage again to fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, “Abba, Father.” The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him, that we may also be glorified together. For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us." Romans 8:9-18
Monday, July 18, 2011
Thoughtless - Void
There are some days I merely enjoy, forget to post until late evening. This is to be a discipline for me to state my thoughts. The highlight of my day was learning the backstory of the french electronica duo Daft Punk, then dancing while listening to their 2007 Alive remix of "One More Time/Aerodynamic." It is virtually impossible for me not to move when listening to that track.
I need the motivation, the stimulus to move - the boldness to act and not mind what others consider. I enjoy spending time with younger children, they are so full of wonder and interest in their surroundings. Sometimes, I dance step a little while they stare - I think it is healthy for them to learn that just because you are older than them, it doesn't mean you stop having fun. Too many young adults are paralyzed by the thought of how others view them. I would rather rejoice in the life I have been given by God. I have a wonderful family, and friends who encourage my eccentricities as I smile at theirs. I like spending time with those who love life as much as I do.
Let them stare, let them wonder. I may act the fool, but it is out of the wisdom of Socrates - That the wisest man is the one who admits readily that he knows nothing. I am a child of the most High, and I will take joy in the creation he has made, in the freedom he has bestowed, and the grace by which my life was bought. May my lifesong resound His Praise. Amen.
"Seems I've imagined Him all of my life as the wisest of all of Mankind.
But if God's holy wisdom is foolish to man
He must have seemed out of his mind.
Even His family said he was mad.
And the priests said 'A demon's to blame.'
But God in the form of this angry young man
Could not have seemed perfectly sane.
We in our foolishness thought we were wise,
He played the Fool and He opened our eyes.
We in our weakness believed we were strong,
He became helpless to show we were wrong.
And so we followed God's own Fool, for only the foolish can tell.
Believe the unbelievable, come be a fool as well.
So come lose your life for a carpenter's son.
For a madman who died for a dream.
And You'll have the faith His first followers had
And you'll feel the weight of the beam.
So surrender the hunger to say you must know,
Find the courage to say I believe.
For the power of paradox opens your eyes
And blinds those who say they can see." - Michael Card "God's Own Fool"
I need the motivation, the stimulus to move - the boldness to act and not mind what others consider. I enjoy spending time with younger children, they are so full of wonder and interest in their surroundings. Sometimes, I dance step a little while they stare - I think it is healthy for them to learn that just because you are older than them, it doesn't mean you stop having fun. Too many young adults are paralyzed by the thought of how others view them. I would rather rejoice in the life I have been given by God. I have a wonderful family, and friends who encourage my eccentricities as I smile at theirs. I like spending time with those who love life as much as I do.
Let them stare, let them wonder. I may act the fool, but it is out of the wisdom of Socrates - That the wisest man is the one who admits readily that he knows nothing. I am a child of the most High, and I will take joy in the creation he has made, in the freedom he has bestowed, and the grace by which my life was bought. May my lifesong resound His Praise. Amen.
"Seems I've imagined Him all of my life as the wisest of all of Mankind.
But if God's holy wisdom is foolish to man
He must have seemed out of his mind.
Even His family said he was mad.
And the priests said 'A demon's to blame.'
But God in the form of this angry young man
Could not have seemed perfectly sane.
We in our foolishness thought we were wise,
He played the Fool and He opened our eyes.
We in our weakness believed we were strong,
He became helpless to show we were wrong.
And so we followed God's own Fool, for only the foolish can tell.
Believe the unbelievable, come be a fool as well.
So come lose your life for a carpenter's son.
For a madman who died for a dream.
And You'll have the faith His first followers had
And you'll feel the weight of the beam.
So surrender the hunger to say you must know,
Find the courage to say I believe.
For the power of paradox opens your eyes
And blinds those who say they can see." - Michael Card "God's Own Fool"
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Anxiety - Hope
"It's like a clock ticking slow in a waiting room. It's like a doctor calling, but he's got no news. My heart keeps racing, I don't know what to do - You're giving me anxiety! Like a message in a bottle that nobody read; the famous last words that nobody said. Tell me what is wrong tonight - You're giving me anxiety!" - Anxiety, Good Charlotte (Greatest Remixes)
"Don't Panic!" I love that slogan that Douglas Adams made synonymous with the Hitchhiker's guide to the Galaxy. It is so easy to be overwhelmed by the magnitude of the problem at hand, the solutions lie neglected in the corners of your mind. I have a tendency to over-think matters, afraid that my actions will render an even more disastrous result.
But a failure to act at all leaves the possibility that the problem could grow worse and become more urgent. Make a decision and stick to it, it makes things simpler, but be sure to consult another person if you have the time. Do not act rashly, for reason has a tendency to desert your decision making at the time.
About the larger problem of Anxiety - it won't leave you, fear is ever present. I am told that former students have final exam nightmares years after graduation. War veterans still wake in cold sweat, hyperventilating from muscle memory and adrenaline spikes. But, I don't live in fear. I remind myself that I am a servant of the Most High, the Creator of the Universe. If I am in His hands, nothing can separate me from the purest love in the world. These trials today are but shadows of what heaven is to be. This is all I have in my grasp - I cannot control many things and variables, but I can strive to put forth my best efforts and put it all on the line.
"In all my years as a priest, I have learned two truths: There is a God, and I am not Him." Father Cavenaugh, Rudy
"Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand." - Ephesians 6:13
"What shall we then say to these things? If God be for us, who can be against us? He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things? Who shall lay any thing to the charge of God's elect? It is God that justifieth. Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written, For thy sake we are killed all the day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter. Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us." - Romans 8:31-37
"Don't Panic!" I love that slogan that Douglas Adams made synonymous with the Hitchhiker's guide to the Galaxy. It is so easy to be overwhelmed by the magnitude of the problem at hand, the solutions lie neglected in the corners of your mind. I have a tendency to over-think matters, afraid that my actions will render an even more disastrous result.
But a failure to act at all leaves the possibility that the problem could grow worse and become more urgent. Make a decision and stick to it, it makes things simpler, but be sure to consult another person if you have the time. Do not act rashly, for reason has a tendency to desert your decision making at the time.
About the larger problem of Anxiety - it won't leave you, fear is ever present. I am told that former students have final exam nightmares years after graduation. War veterans still wake in cold sweat, hyperventilating from muscle memory and adrenaline spikes. But, I don't live in fear. I remind myself that I am a servant of the Most High, the Creator of the Universe. If I am in His hands, nothing can separate me from the purest love in the world. These trials today are but shadows of what heaven is to be. This is all I have in my grasp - I cannot control many things and variables, but I can strive to put forth my best efforts and put it all on the line.
"In all my years as a priest, I have learned two truths: There is a God, and I am not Him." Father Cavenaugh, Rudy
"Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand." - Ephesians 6:13
"What shall we then say to these things? If God be for us, who can be against us? He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things? Who shall lay any thing to the charge of God's elect? It is God that justifieth. Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written, For thy sake we are killed all the day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter. Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us." - Romans 8:31-37
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Blood - Blows
"War makes good men better and bad men worse." - Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain
I like this quote and this man. Partially out of the fact that he is portrayed so nobly by Jeff Daniels in Gettysburg and Gods and Generals. Also, because he was a professor of rhetoric, a thinking man in a campaign. His observations and accounts of his days in the field are insightful and descriptive. War fascinates the hearts of many young men, it is romanticized in our legends, warriors of old are revered and honored. It is almost always the past conflicts that people raise their glasses towards, remembering those who have fallen on the field of battle.
"War will make corpses of us all." - Faramir, Return of the King (Peter Jackson)
"It is well that War is so terrible, lest we grow too fond of it." - Robert E. Lee
We long to do something to be remembered, but war is not the arena to do so. Too many lives are lost in the pursuit of glory. Few things are worth the fight to claim them, and I hope we do not seek conflict, hold grudges, or seek revenge. There are more deaths in conflicts than merely upon a battlefield, some rot from hate and malice that burn larger holes than any bullet could ever cause.
Lay your weapons down, there are no enemies in front of you." - Jars of Clay (Weapons; Long Fall Back to Earth.).
Forgive and turn the other cheek. Grace comes to all of us from the Father, and we should have the strength of character to die for his name, without needing to strike a blow of offense.
I like this quote and this man. Partially out of the fact that he is portrayed so nobly by Jeff Daniels in Gettysburg and Gods and Generals. Also, because he was a professor of rhetoric, a thinking man in a campaign. His observations and accounts of his days in the field are insightful and descriptive. War fascinates the hearts of many young men, it is romanticized in our legends, warriors of old are revered and honored. It is almost always the past conflicts that people raise their glasses towards, remembering those who have fallen on the field of battle.
"War will make corpses of us all." - Faramir, Return of the King (Peter Jackson)
"It is well that War is so terrible, lest we grow too fond of it." - Robert E. Lee
We long to do something to be remembered, but war is not the arena to do so. Too many lives are lost in the pursuit of glory. Few things are worth the fight to claim them, and I hope we do not seek conflict, hold grudges, or seek revenge. There are more deaths in conflicts than merely upon a battlefield, some rot from hate and malice that burn larger holes than any bullet could ever cause.
Lay your weapons down, there are no enemies in front of you." - Jars of Clay (Weapons; Long Fall Back to Earth.).
Forgive and turn the other cheek. Grace comes to all of us from the Father, and we should have the strength of character to die for his name, without needing to strike a blow of offense.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Florish - Sprezzatura
Some people float through life so easily. As if boundaries, limitations, and fear are as mist to the keel of their boats. They drive forward with a purpose, focused on their goal. All this is done with the social equivalent of a smile and a bow.
There were some days I saw these people and thought them fakers, then realized that because I didn't feel like that, I felt no one had a right to do so. That was so laughably selfish - it was not my concern whether they were on masquerade or genuine. I was responsible for my own behavior and reactions, I could not fault another for having the follow-through to do something I wished I could.
We all have areas that need polish, if not major construction. But I may choose to learn from what I see in others, rather than bemoan their successes. We all have interests and skill sets that come naturally to ourselves, sometimes so much so that we take it for granted everyone can do the same.
For instance - I have proportional strength, one that can support myself on a competent level, but not overly impressive in bench pressing. I didn't commit my time and efforts to training to overcome this obstacle, and I would be foolish to expect it ex nihilo. I have a memory that retains facts and trivia, a database of quotes, anecdotes, and stories. However, there are some of my caliber who have honed this asset into constructing "Memory Palaces." This is a mental construct that uses the imagination to shape a Three dimensional place in the mind to store items and imbue them with meanings. A card catalog system with style. Gamblers and Magicians can memorize placements of cards in a standard deck using this discipline.
I, however, am daunted by the magnitude of the idea. My mind is more akin to an ancient English Manor inhabited by Post-Modernist artist. Some new facts, some old bits, all juxtaposed and discovered at inconvenient times - usually appearing when the tools are not applicable to the current situation.
I cannot do many things, and refuse to attempt others. I am thankful that I have friends and family to keep me straight and correct my blunders before they cause disasters. They forgive me my faults, as I try to compensate for their blind spots when they risk being exposed. Friendship is a two way street, and I am glad for a few nudges to keep me in the right lane. Whenever something is not natural for you, there are three courses: Quit, Try harder, or Find Someone who can do it. The first is not an noble option, so I would advise one of the latter two.
There were some days I saw these people and thought them fakers, then realized that because I didn't feel like that, I felt no one had a right to do so. That was so laughably selfish - it was not my concern whether they were on masquerade or genuine. I was responsible for my own behavior and reactions, I could not fault another for having the follow-through to do something I wished I could.
We all have areas that need polish, if not major construction. But I may choose to learn from what I see in others, rather than bemoan their successes. We all have interests and skill sets that come naturally to ourselves, sometimes so much so that we take it for granted everyone can do the same.
For instance - I have proportional strength, one that can support myself on a competent level, but not overly impressive in bench pressing. I didn't commit my time and efforts to training to overcome this obstacle, and I would be foolish to expect it ex nihilo. I have a memory that retains facts and trivia, a database of quotes, anecdotes, and stories. However, there are some of my caliber who have honed this asset into constructing "Memory Palaces." This is a mental construct that uses the imagination to shape a Three dimensional place in the mind to store items and imbue them with meanings. A card catalog system with style. Gamblers and Magicians can memorize placements of cards in a standard deck using this discipline.
I, however, am daunted by the magnitude of the idea. My mind is more akin to an ancient English Manor inhabited by Post-Modernist artist. Some new facts, some old bits, all juxtaposed and discovered at inconvenient times - usually appearing when the tools are not applicable to the current situation.
I cannot do many things, and refuse to attempt others. I am thankful that I have friends and family to keep me straight and correct my blunders before they cause disasters. They forgive me my faults, as I try to compensate for their blind spots when they risk being exposed. Friendship is a two way street, and I am glad for a few nudges to keep me in the right lane. Whenever something is not natural for you, there are three courses: Quit, Try harder, or Find Someone who can do it. The first is not an noble option, so I would advise one of the latter two.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Thrice - DCU
Drink deeply of my spring, waters clear blue - the bounty of kings.
I will guard and guide your way, Lady of the Lake am I.
Excalibur I have forged from the depths below,
Warding harm with a scabbard that heals every ill blow.
Merlin requested my involvement, who would refuse his command.
He was the original Sorcerer Supreme, though my nature was as quicksand.
Yet, King Arthur's life still was lost when he was betrayed.
Oedipal complex fueled by rage, Mordred born of Morgan Le Fey.
When he fell, I knew in my heart, and the sword was returned to the depths - a legendary lost art.
My mention in the English epic tale was doomed to few parts.
The truth of my role will die in the dark.
--------------------------------------------------
Sniper's nest at the edge of town,
I will guard and guide your way, Lady of the Lake am I.
Excalibur I have forged from the depths below,
Warding harm with a scabbard that heals every ill blow.
Merlin requested my involvement, who would refuse his command.
He was the original Sorcerer Supreme, though my nature was as quicksand.
Yet, King Arthur's life still was lost when he was betrayed.
Oedipal complex fueled by rage, Mordred born of Morgan Le Fey.
When he fell, I knew in my heart, and the sword was returned to the depths - a legendary lost art.
My mention in the English epic tale was doomed to few parts.
The truth of my role will die in the dark.
--------------------------------------------------
Sniper's nest at the edge of town,
People sleeping below as creatures underground.
The gunman sights his target in night vision,
Waiting to strike with fatal precision.
The mark's routine was rote and well known,
His reign in the village was with a fist of stone.
His arrogance would cost him dear,
The hill-hidden man breathed steadily as the end drew near.
One twitch of a digit, the silenced missile flew,
Causing a final fit as the fatal bullet hit true.
The man on the hill repacked his kit,
The freed people below never to know who did it.
-----------------------------------------------------
What is the occasion, what of the day?
To honor the fallen, to remember the slain.
But even more so, that the anniversary so dear -
A capital friend's birth was marked a score to this year.
My companion and I have not been always,
There was a time in the middle when it seemed the end of our days.
But slowly revived through kindling of flame.
He is quite fiery, and I faded like smoke and waned.
Drawn to his brightness, we have returned.
This lyrical poem celebrates that he was born.
I have few other things I might give.
He shaped my life, gave me an example of how to live.
Here is a toast to his memory, a raising of glass.
To the settling of scores, to hurts and glories now past.
-----------------------------------------------------
What is the occasion, what of the day?
To honor the fallen, to remember the slain.
But even more so, that the anniversary so dear -
A capital friend's birth was marked a score to this year.
My companion and I have not been always,
There was a time in the middle when it seemed the end of our days.
But slowly revived through kindling of flame.
He is quite fiery, and I faded like smoke and waned.
Drawn to his brightness, we have returned.
This lyrical poem celebrates that he was born.
I have few other things I might give.
He shaped my life, gave me an example of how to live.
Here is a toast to his memory, a raising of glass.
To the settling of scores, to hurts and glories now past.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Disambiguation - Time
Fourth lesson I learned was that time is important, not to be taken lightly. As to time travel - we either will always have it, or never will affect the time stream. Wormholes and cheating time may be in the far future, but if time travel is possible, our history has already been affected and/or multiple Parallel Universes have been created in the process.
Time is important, but as is said in Its a Wonderful Life, "Youth is wasted on the wrong people!" The young know subconsciously that they might never have a moment/opportunity like "this" again, but don't consider the consequences. When it is foolish and trivial, too many of us committed to the course of action. Heavier matters that could change the courses of our lives and test the walls of our routine give the youths more pause. However, time is a commodity - something that we are unlikely to regain once traded.
To fulfill our desires on the mortal plane to which we are bound, we must choose whether to give time or money to satisfy our needs. Money is really a placeholder for the value of your spent time, so the real question is, "Are you willing to use the time that you have saved in the past, or would you rather work in the present to earn the goods and services?"
Such as new books or clothes - is your need so great as to need them fresh and unworn, or are you willing to spend an afternoon browsing a thrift store or used bookshop. I, as a youngin' prefer to dive for deals rather than anteing up my savings. Your life is valuable in whatever way you spend it. My fifteen minutes on the soapbox are up. Make the most of yours...
Time is important, but as is said in Its a Wonderful Life, "Youth is wasted on the wrong people!" The young know subconsciously that they might never have a moment/opportunity like "this" again, but don't consider the consequences. When it is foolish and trivial, too many of us committed to the course of action. Heavier matters that could change the courses of our lives and test the walls of our routine give the youths more pause. However, time is a commodity - something that we are unlikely to regain once traded.
To fulfill our desires on the mortal plane to which we are bound, we must choose whether to give time or money to satisfy our needs. Money is really a placeholder for the value of your spent time, so the real question is, "Are you willing to use the time that you have saved in the past, or would you rather work in the present to earn the goods and services?"
Such as new books or clothes - is your need so great as to need them fresh and unworn, or are you willing to spend an afternoon browsing a thrift store or used bookshop. I, as a youngin' prefer to dive for deals rather than anteing up my savings. Your life is valuable in whatever way you spend it. My fifteen minutes on the soapbox are up. Make the most of yours...
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Pain - Rebirth
Why I do these titles escapes me, I can't seem to break the habit, even when they don't describe what is below written below. Disambiguation will be my next title, it is such a full sounding word.
The third lesson I learned concerns growing pains and challenges. When I was a youth, I didn't think twice about my ability to perform actions - they just responded and that was that. That grace left me when I went snowboarding one winter. It was my first time, and I spent most of the time scooting down the hill on my posterior rather than riding. It wasn't for lack of trying, and I had a patient, blue eyed teacher who smiled at my efforts and urged me onward.
The next day, I woke up more sore than I had ever been in my life. But the accomplishment of trying a new endeavor was worth the fallout. The next time I went 'boarding, I might not have been getting major air, but I was standing up when I finished the hills. Control came with time and the perseverance not to give up, even when I failed so miserably in the learning.
Trials are never pleasant, neither are challenges. They are called so for a reason, and sometimes I think the Father looks down, laughs kindly of our struggles of the moment - seeing that His child learning to walk today, that they might run swiftly someday. Bigger mountains lie in our paths, I wonder if these problems we face are mere anthills in comparison. We may not see the end result, and can only travel down the hill as it comes into focus - rolling with the bumps and avoiding collisions with other riders. Sometimes the ride is exhilarating, leaving us breathless with adrenaline pumping in our eardrums. But other times, we need to support the efforts of another soul who is still struggling with the basics, whose wings haven't matured enough to fly freely.
I hope that I will be observant and compassionate enough to recognize those when I see them, to address them with words of encouragement and good faith. Just as my friend waited on me, so must I be ready to help others in the same way.
The third lesson I learned concerns growing pains and challenges. When I was a youth, I didn't think twice about my ability to perform actions - they just responded and that was that. That grace left me when I went snowboarding one winter. It was my first time, and I spent most of the time scooting down the hill on my posterior rather than riding. It wasn't for lack of trying, and I had a patient, blue eyed teacher who smiled at my efforts and urged me onward.
The next day, I woke up more sore than I had ever been in my life. But the accomplishment of trying a new endeavor was worth the fallout. The next time I went 'boarding, I might not have been getting major air, but I was standing up when I finished the hills. Control came with time and the perseverance not to give up, even when I failed so miserably in the learning.
Trials are never pleasant, neither are challenges. They are called so for a reason, and sometimes I think the Father looks down, laughs kindly of our struggles of the moment - seeing that His child learning to walk today, that they might run swiftly someday. Bigger mountains lie in our paths, I wonder if these problems we face are mere anthills in comparison. We may not see the end result, and can only travel down the hill as it comes into focus - rolling with the bumps and avoiding collisions with other riders. Sometimes the ride is exhilarating, leaving us breathless with adrenaline pumping in our eardrums. But other times, we need to support the efforts of another soul who is still struggling with the basics, whose wings haven't matured enough to fly freely.
I hope that I will be observant and compassionate enough to recognize those when I see them, to address them with words of encouragement and good faith. Just as my friend waited on me, so must I be ready to help others in the same way.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Absence - Awaken.
Lesson Two of what I had learned that summer - That it was lonely watching movies alone. Comedy routines ring hollow when seen alone. Horror dramas were exponentially more unsettling by night, when viewed by a laptop screen's glow. Either way, it wasn't very fun. The real enjoyment of experiencing things was doing them with others. A wise friend once instilled in me the truth that "It is not all about what you do, as much as who you do it with." Whether it was going on supply runs, playing ultimate Frisbee, or going out to eat, it was the people and their reactions and replies that made moments memorable. The Internet was predicated on the assumption to inform and serve people, but more often, people invested their lives into a virtual world. I went to bed disgusted one night, exhausted from a FlameWar which I had striven to end peacefully.
Brad Paisley had a song entitled "Online," satirizing the anonymity of those involved in in virtual lives. "I am sci-fi fanatic, a mild asthmatic, I've never even been to LA. Til I got the chance with the marching band to play tuba in the Rose Parade... When you got my kinda stats, its hard to get a date, let alone a real girlfriend. But I lose a lot of weight and gain another foot everytime I log in!"
How truth becomes distorted through firewalls, personas, and cleverness. "I am important, look at my work! I am smart, beautiful, witty, and loaded. Praise me, tell me that I matter in the millions. My off-line life is not as measurable - there are no achievements, medals, or honors that pop in the corner of my vision."
Pity, so tempting. But the real world of color and life is so much more, the rewards are more subtle but longer lasting. There are my friends and family who love me dearly - despite, and sometimes because of, my faults. So, with the minor trials and temptations, the quiet victories over them, the tedious training of discernment and self discipline. I embrace today with all it will bring. Good day!
"Good Morning!" said Bilbo, and he meant it. The sun was shining, and the grass was very green. But Gandalf looked at him from under long bushy eyebrows that stuck out further than the brim of his shady hat.
"What do you mean?" he said. "Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?"
"All of them at once," said Bilbo. "And a very fine morning for a pipe of tobacco out of doors, into the bargain. ...
"Good morning!" he said at last. "We don't want any adventures here, thank you! You might try over The Hill or across The Water." By this he meant that the conversation was at an end.
"What a lot of things you do use Good morning for!" said Gandalf. "Now you mean that you want to get rid of me, and that it won't be good till I move off." - The Hobbit, J.R.R. Tolkien.
Brad Paisley had a song entitled "Online," satirizing the anonymity of those involved in in virtual lives. "I am sci-fi fanatic, a mild asthmatic, I've never even been to LA. Til I got the chance with the marching band to play tuba in the Rose Parade... When you got my kinda stats, its hard to get a date, let alone a real girlfriend. But I lose a lot of weight and gain another foot everytime I log in!"
How truth becomes distorted through firewalls, personas, and cleverness. "I am important, look at my work! I am smart, beautiful, witty, and loaded. Praise me, tell me that I matter in the millions. My off-line life is not as measurable - there are no achievements, medals, or honors that pop in the corner of my vision."
Pity, so tempting. But the real world of color and life is so much more, the rewards are more subtle but longer lasting. There are my friends and family who love me dearly - despite, and sometimes because of, my faults. So, with the minor trials and temptations, the quiet victories over them, the tedious training of discernment and self discipline. I embrace today with all it will bring. Good day!
"Good Morning!" said Bilbo, and he meant it. The sun was shining, and the grass was very green. But Gandalf looked at him from under long bushy eyebrows that stuck out further than the brim of his shady hat.
"What do you mean?" he said. "Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?"
"All of them at once," said Bilbo. "And a very fine morning for a pipe of tobacco out of doors, into the bargain. ...
"Good morning!" he said at last. "We don't want any adventures here, thank you! You might try over The Hill or across The Water." By this he meant that the conversation was at an end.
"What a lot of things you do use Good morning for!" said Gandalf. "Now you mean that you want to get rid of me, and that it won't be good till I move off." - The Hobbit, J.R.R. Tolkien.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Disconnect - Reunion
I have nothing to despair about - my summer was composed of a maximum of 18 hours a week of work, a few family outings, and the rest was my time to use as I found it. How have I spent it and what have I learned from it? Self-Evidently, this outlet has been used for a short while yet, and is a mild vanity, though that pretentiousness may fade with time. I try too hard to impress people that I imagine might read this. Just the other day, I sent a post of mine to a friend, then fretted for minutes that I might have said something foolish. I need not be defensive - if people like what I have to say, they might take the time to have a piece of my mind. If not, I cannot worry about it. People go where they will, I need not put on a front to draw others.
I have a tendency to over-think things, dwelling on the theoretical rather than the concrete. Thus, my attempts to be clever and sharp are futile and frustrating to others. I will have a restful today, and connect with those who I have not made time in the past. Life is more than merely the possible, fantastical, or dreamings, They are to be in subservience to Reality, not be exalted above flesh and blood people. Life is not logical, Thank God, for the beautiful unpredictability and variation of our world!
"For of Him, and through Him, and to Him, are all things: to whom be glory for ever. Amen." - Romans 11:36.
I have a tendency to over-think things, dwelling on the theoretical rather than the concrete. Thus, my attempts to be clever and sharp are futile and frustrating to others. I will have a restful today, and connect with those who I have not made time in the past. Life is more than merely the possible, fantastical, or dreamings, They are to be in subservience to Reality, not be exalted above flesh and blood people. Life is not logical, Thank God, for the beautiful unpredictability and variation of our world!
"For of Him, and through Him, and to Him, are all things: to whom be glory for ever. Amen." - Romans 11:36.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Sunlight - Grass
The day is bright and lively, the warmth and energy it exudes is overwhelming.
I pulled on my old sneakers for yard work, snapping branches with a pair of loppers.
As I labored, I remembered thinking of how time spent like this seemed unremarkable until viewed through the lens of the past. The smell of freshly cut grass, the sounds of laughter and shrieking of younger siblings, the taste of crisp, chilled water. These are the supports of memory, allowing an everyday occurrence to be stored in your long term memory.
After many days of this, the wonder and joy of labor is diluted by familiarity. That is why we note the absence of people and objects more than when their presence is manifest.
"Sunny Days, keeping the clouds away. I think we are coming to a clearing in the brighter day. So far away, still I think they say, 'The wait the heart grow fonder,' or stronger, I can't quite remember anyway. But if you're waiting for love. That's a promise I'll keep, and if You don't mind believing that it changes everything. Time will never matter." -Sunny Days, Jars of Clay (Who We are Instead).
I plan to enjoy today, not only to look at the past with longing, and the future with hope, but the present with purpose. I wouldn't trade my life for anyone else's, for I can't fathom thinking or being like anyone else.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Ticket - Parabola
A ticket for a trip to paradise in the stars. It was offered by the Captain to a select few at first. Patronus Abram was given first consideration, he had inspired many others to greatness with his early vision and investment leading to this day. His legacy was legendary. His descendant Issac Abram had driven a hard bargain with the Captain for an exclusive interview. The Captain listened to his demands and gave Issac a ground floor entry into the program, with his twelve sons. Judah was seen as especially promising, and the Captain's son went personally to supervise Judah's progress. He sent envoys to Judah to negotiate his arrival, they were received inconsistently, ignored by some members, and forgotten in paper trails by others.
When the Captain's son arrived for duty to close the deal for the tickets to paradise, his audience didn't believe who he claimed to be. Their business had been roadblocked by Roman Industries, and expected the Captain's contract to be a lifeline out of their difficulties.
The Captain's son consulted Judah's leading scientists, the Far-seers into the sky, but they wouldn't listen to his counsel and demeaned his advice as foolish and passive.
What they wanted from the Captain was a strong right hand of salvation - planning to execute an elaborate corporate strategy derived from the original parameters of the contracts.
The Captain's son maintained that the contract was revised - it was an open deal: ground floor entry into the Captain's program. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, stressed the Son, the father would offer it to rival companies if Judah wasn't interested.
Judah replied if it was a take it or leave it deal, the contract with the Captain wasn't worth it - send it to the chopping block.
The Son left, promising to return one day, he would remain faithful to His father's vision even when the short sighted scientists refused the simplicity of the Captain's grand design.
Those who believed in the viability of the Son's outline were few in Judah's line, but organized by Petros Simon and John Revel, the Son's vision was kept alive in their hearts.
Pall Quill was a brilliant student trained in Judah's Far-Seer branch, and was personally contacted by the Captain after his persecution of the Simon and Revel's followers.
After an interview, Quill was converted to believing in the Captain's vision for the Paradise program. He pitched the idea to other companies, offering them positions in the Captain's program. The work would be hard, those who joined would be ridiculed, and the code of conduct was to be found in the Captain's manual (additional tips written by Pall were given the Captain's consent).
Other nations joined the efforts, though fanatics and doubters sabotaged the program whenever possible. Some of the protesters said that man was not meant for the heavens, that earth was their final home. There was no other option but this terrestrial life, to believe otherwise was arrogant and foolish.
But the day finally came, the fleet was ready, and the Son returned to Judah. The members repented of doubting his claims before - there was no doubt that this young man's commanding bearing and brilliance were shining examples of his father. He had these traits all along, but Judah and the Far-Seers focused on the surface appearance of their expectations rather than seeing the Son in the light of who He was. The new chapter in the Captain's plan to bring Paradise to Mankind's reach was unfolded. Those naysayers who critiqued the project were silenced by the awe evoked by the Captain's vision made manifest.
This isn't all I wish it could be, but it is rather simple to me, as is the true gospel. Believe upon the Lamb and be willing to be used in whatever way the Captain might require.
When the Captain's son arrived for duty to close the deal for the tickets to paradise, his audience didn't believe who he claimed to be. Their business had been roadblocked by Roman Industries, and expected the Captain's contract to be a lifeline out of their difficulties.
The Captain's son consulted Judah's leading scientists, the Far-seers into the sky, but they wouldn't listen to his counsel and demeaned his advice as foolish and passive.
What they wanted from the Captain was a strong right hand of salvation - planning to execute an elaborate corporate strategy derived from the original parameters of the contracts.
The Captain's son maintained that the contract was revised - it was an open deal: ground floor entry into the Captain's program. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, stressed the Son, the father would offer it to rival companies if Judah wasn't interested.
Judah replied if it was a take it or leave it deal, the contract with the Captain wasn't worth it - send it to the chopping block.
The Son left, promising to return one day, he would remain faithful to His father's vision even when the short sighted scientists refused the simplicity of the Captain's grand design.
Those who believed in the viability of the Son's outline were few in Judah's line, but organized by Petros Simon and John Revel, the Son's vision was kept alive in their hearts.
Pall Quill was a brilliant student trained in Judah's Far-Seer branch, and was personally contacted by the Captain after his persecution of the Simon and Revel's followers.
After an interview, Quill was converted to believing in the Captain's vision for the Paradise program. He pitched the idea to other companies, offering them positions in the Captain's program. The work would be hard, those who joined would be ridiculed, and the code of conduct was to be found in the Captain's manual (additional tips written by Pall were given the Captain's consent).
Other nations joined the efforts, though fanatics and doubters sabotaged the program whenever possible. Some of the protesters said that man was not meant for the heavens, that earth was their final home. There was no other option but this terrestrial life, to believe otherwise was arrogant and foolish.
But the day finally came, the fleet was ready, and the Son returned to Judah. The members repented of doubting his claims before - there was no doubt that this young man's commanding bearing and brilliance were shining examples of his father. He had these traits all along, but Judah and the Far-Seers focused on the surface appearance of their expectations rather than seeing the Son in the light of who He was. The new chapter in the Captain's plan to bring Paradise to Mankind's reach was unfolded. Those naysayers who critiqued the project were silenced by the awe evoked by the Captain's vision made manifest.
This isn't all I wish it could be, but it is rather simple to me, as is the true gospel. Believe upon the Lamb and be willing to be used in whatever way the Captain might require.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Between - Transitions
"Let me apologize to begin with, let me apologize for what I'm about to say. But trying to be someone else is harder than it seemed. Between my pride and my promise, between my lies and how the truth gets in the way. The things I want to say to you get lost before they come, the only that's worse than what is not." - In Between, Linkin Park on Minutes to Midnight.
Linkin Park was an interesting group - they straddled the lines between thoughtful songwriting and intensively cutting spoken word. Listening to their albums was like entering a field of broken glass, looking for diamonds. Each project had its moments of brilliance throughout the cautionary hardcore, loud, or empty songs. Linkin Park had a passion, but not always a discernible direction. Long-suffering fans claimed the band sold out from their roots, trying to attract a larger fan base.
The market dictates the bulk of what is produced and offered, but the people buy what they like, through word of mouth if advertising isn't available. I don't think that they sold out, don't agree with everything the band issued and claimed, but that did not prevent me from listening to the insight of thoughtful souls, seeking the Great Perhaps.
The 21st century generation was asked whether we had a unified book, a "Catcher in the Rye" of classic scope and timelessness. Personally, I am unsure whether that generation had the attention span or even the feeling of community enough to agree upon a book. America at the time was intensely individualistic in its boastings, while pressured to conform to the will of the majority. This divide of teaching self confidence/importance and expecting a unified result was a predictable conflict.
Having read J.D. Salinger's original novel about a directionless boy and a night on the town, I was initially disinterested in Holden Caufield's approach to life. A poignant string upon which the author played was the betweenness of its protagonist. Holden was no longer a child, and was no satisfied by simple explanations. Neither was he an adult, one who would take a slot in the system of society and function as a cog in the wheel of life. No, Holden was lodged in the middle of the decision - his insight was that he disliked "phonies," those who didn't question why they were what they were - just accepted the lot that life gave them without a struggle.
It was so easy to be esteemed as a "phony" - a piano player who shows off because he knows that he is gifted. A lawyer who wins cases, not out of consideration for his client, but because that is what he is expected to do. People who enter a box of categorization, locked into what and who the system wants them to be, no questions, no thought.
John Green picked up on the teen angst puzzle, and his Prinze winning Looking for Alaska, is the closest product to Salinger's spirit. This book is about a boy, Miles Halter, who has a hobby of memorizing the last words of famous people. He asks to be sent to a private school, and upon arriving, finds it to be a complex system of parameters and unspoken rules. He meets the rakish Colonel, who is a leader of the resistance against the Weekend Warriors. (Well off students who leave for home after Fridays.) The school's menu has a default offering of deliciously disgusting bufriedoes, a burrito that is deep-fried to juicy perfection. Takumi, the energetic oddball who is the right hand of execution in the Colonel's masterminded campaign of pranks.
And everything at the school is tied to Alaska Young, the beautiful and capricious, who manages to remain a mystery, despite her knack for being involved as a nexus in the lives of others.
"How do I escape this labyrinth?" Is there a quick and fast means to freedom from being lost?
John Green toys with this concept and idea in "Looking for Alaska." As the curtain falls in the conclusion, questions are answered, and the answers in turn awaken more questions.
But, it remains true that in this life that is a labyrinth, as with this book, not everything is easily resolved.
Linkin Park was an interesting group - they straddled the lines between thoughtful songwriting and intensively cutting spoken word. Listening to their albums was like entering a field of broken glass, looking for diamonds. Each project had its moments of brilliance throughout the cautionary hardcore, loud, or empty songs. Linkin Park had a passion, but not always a discernible direction. Long-suffering fans claimed the band sold out from their roots, trying to attract a larger fan base.
The market dictates the bulk of what is produced and offered, but the people buy what they like, through word of mouth if advertising isn't available. I don't think that they sold out, don't agree with everything the band issued and claimed, but that did not prevent me from listening to the insight of thoughtful souls, seeking the Great Perhaps.
The 21st century generation was asked whether we had a unified book, a "Catcher in the Rye" of classic scope and timelessness. Personally, I am unsure whether that generation had the attention span or even the feeling of community enough to agree upon a book. America at the time was intensely individualistic in its boastings, while pressured to conform to the will of the majority. This divide of teaching self confidence/importance and expecting a unified result was a predictable conflict.
Having read J.D. Salinger's original novel about a directionless boy and a night on the town, I was initially disinterested in Holden Caufield's approach to life. A poignant string upon which the author played was the betweenness of its protagonist. Holden was no longer a child, and was no satisfied by simple explanations. Neither was he an adult, one who would take a slot in the system of society and function as a cog in the wheel of life. No, Holden was lodged in the middle of the decision - his insight was that he disliked "phonies," those who didn't question why they were what they were - just accepted the lot that life gave them without a struggle.
It was so easy to be esteemed as a "phony" - a piano player who shows off because he knows that he is gifted. A lawyer who wins cases, not out of consideration for his client, but because that is what he is expected to do. People who enter a box of categorization, locked into what and who the system wants them to be, no questions, no thought.
John Green picked up on the teen angst puzzle, and his Prinze winning Looking for Alaska, is the closest product to Salinger's spirit. This book is about a boy, Miles Halter, who has a hobby of memorizing the last words of famous people. He asks to be sent to a private school, and upon arriving, finds it to be a complex system of parameters and unspoken rules. He meets the rakish Colonel, who is a leader of the resistance against the Weekend Warriors. (Well off students who leave for home after Fridays.) The school's menu has a default offering of deliciously disgusting bufriedoes, a burrito that is deep-fried to juicy perfection. Takumi, the energetic oddball who is the right hand of execution in the Colonel's masterminded campaign of pranks.
And everything at the school is tied to Alaska Young, the beautiful and capricious, who manages to remain a mystery, despite her knack for being involved as a nexus in the lives of others.
"How do I escape this labyrinth?" Is there a quick and fast means to freedom from being lost?
John Green toys with this concept and idea in "Looking for Alaska." As the curtain falls in the conclusion, questions are answered, and the answers in turn awaken more questions.
But, it remains true that in this life that is a labyrinth, as with this book, not everything is easily resolved.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Fallen - Pixies
There was the day when you were conceived,
So innocent, you existed on human belief.
Some of you were malevolent, true,
But the consensus agreed that your race was beautiful too.
Such still small voices, ringing like a breeze through the trees.
Your mischievous nature, as you glided on delicate wings.
You entertained my young spirit with the exploits you did,
Awakening the mysteries as to how you stayed hid.
In my mind's eye and crafted from artist's pens,
This world was enormous in scale with your tiny lens.
Those were the days of happy endings and sparks,
Those embers though old, still burned in my heart.
Now you are seen in a different light - the fancy of the foolish and fey,
The role-player's risque knight, your title is now effeminate and gay.
'Tis a pity that once was flights of childish fantasy,
Is now grown up and plucked in a sinister key.
How far you fell, my roguish friends,
Now that time has turned your perception to different ends.
Sadly, is this lament a little too late?
Hast thou flown away to escape this perverse fate?
I hope you did find a place to sojourn and migrate,
Again to return when this phase dissipates.
Until then, I'll miss you and your capricious natures innate.
When you find a moment, visit my desk and your story dictate.
I'll take it down word perfect as possible, though I might have to translate.
Will it be an epic, or a tragical tale? Either way, the story's scope will be great.
Though a deliriously dreaming author's word may not hold weight.
I'll still persevere to chronicle your tales, just you flutter and wait.
So innocent, you existed on human belief.
Some of you were malevolent, true,
But the consensus agreed that your race was beautiful too.
Such still small voices, ringing like a breeze through the trees.
Your mischievous nature, as you glided on delicate wings.
You entertained my young spirit with the exploits you did,
Awakening the mysteries as to how you stayed hid.
In my mind's eye and crafted from artist's pens,
This world was enormous in scale with your tiny lens.
Those were the days of happy endings and sparks,
Those embers though old, still burned in my heart.
Now you are seen in a different light - the fancy of the foolish and fey,
The role-player's risque knight, your title is now effeminate and gay.
'Tis a pity that once was flights of childish fantasy,
Is now grown up and plucked in a sinister key.
How far you fell, my roguish friends,
Now that time has turned your perception to different ends.
Sadly, is this lament a little too late?
Hast thou flown away to escape this perverse fate?
I hope you did find a place to sojourn and migrate,
Again to return when this phase dissipates.
Until then, I'll miss you and your capricious natures innate.
When you find a moment, visit my desk and your story dictate.
I'll take it down word perfect as possible, though I might have to translate.
Will it be an epic, or a tragical tale? Either way, the story's scope will be great.
Though a deliriously dreaming author's word may not hold weight.
I'll still persevere to chronicle your tales, just you flutter and wait.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Burdens - Relationships
I don't always understand others when they speak of the Lord whom they serve, but I know when they have a relationship with Him. As with any friend we have, we may not know how they reveal themselves to different people. Even I don't even possess the courage to be completely vulnerable with other people. Even more so, I don't think that they could handle the weight of my soul's burden upon their shoulders. Only our Creator can understand our struggles, and ease their weight. God never unloads Himself upon us, We must accept his aid and offer.
"Likewise, ye younger, submit yourselves unto the elder. Yea, all of you be subject one to another, and be clothed with humility: for God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble. Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time: Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you. Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour: Whom resist stedfast in the faith, knowing that the same afflictions are accomplished in your brethren that are in the world. But the God of all grace, who hath called us unto his eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after that ye have suffered a while, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you. To him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen." - 1 Peter 5:5-11
He is faithful and patient with us, but reveals Himself and guides our lives when we are ready and mature enough to act upon it. We might catch glimpses to keep in our hearts when listening to those Christians who have gone before.
I particularly enjoy reading George MacDonald, a man who had a gift for presenting ideas in a story that are implanted into your memory until the situation awakens the seed. MacDonald was not a lyricist, in his attempts at songs in his works, it clangs to the modern ear, the meter by with it was recited long forgotten.
Corrie Ten Boom had anecdotes about her father's wisdom when confronting issues and questions she asked. When she heard as a girl about sex, she inquired her father what it was. As a response, he asked her to carry his suitcase. Corrie replied that his suitcase was too heavy for her young arms. He smiled and said, "Just as you are not yet old enough to carry the weight of my suitcase, so with your question. When you are old enough to bear the burden, I will answer you. Until then, I will carry it for you."
I am not ready yet for many things, so I must wait patiently, meditating and studying. I must learn to listen, as the green lady in Perelandra stated, "I am now older," after listening to the opposing counsels of Ransom and Weston. I must not grow tired and faithless if I am not granted a manifestation of my prayer, but commit more to the wisdom of knowing the reasons why.
To encourage others in the faith, not through fruitless conflict, but in an open and civil forum. I must also keep in mind that God is not accountable by the morals of Man, but is a faithful and just Master of my soul.
"Likewise, ye younger, submit yourselves unto the elder. Yea, all of you be subject one to another, and be clothed with humility: for God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble. Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time: Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you. Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour: Whom resist stedfast in the faith, knowing that the same afflictions are accomplished in your brethren that are in the world. But the God of all grace, who hath called us unto his eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after that ye have suffered a while, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you. To him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen." - 1 Peter 5:5-11
He is faithful and patient with us, but reveals Himself and guides our lives when we are ready and mature enough to act upon it. We might catch glimpses to keep in our hearts when listening to those Christians who have gone before.
I particularly enjoy reading George MacDonald, a man who had a gift for presenting ideas in a story that are implanted into your memory until the situation awakens the seed. MacDonald was not a lyricist, in his attempts at songs in his works, it clangs to the modern ear, the meter by with it was recited long forgotten.
Corrie Ten Boom had anecdotes about her father's wisdom when confronting issues and questions she asked. When she heard as a girl about sex, she inquired her father what it was. As a response, he asked her to carry his suitcase. Corrie replied that his suitcase was too heavy for her young arms. He smiled and said, "Just as you are not yet old enough to carry the weight of my suitcase, so with your question. When you are old enough to bear the burden, I will answer you. Until then, I will carry it for you."
I am not ready yet for many things, so I must wait patiently, meditating and studying. I must learn to listen, as the green lady in Perelandra stated, "I am now older," after listening to the opposing counsels of Ransom and Weston. I must not grow tired and faithless if I am not granted a manifestation of my prayer, but commit more to the wisdom of knowing the reasons why.
To encourage others in the faith, not through fruitless conflict, but in an open and civil forum. I must also keep in mind that God is not accountable by the morals of Man, but is a faithful and just Master of my soul.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Holiness - Beauty
"In the beauty of holiness, we see you, Son of righteousness. So we bring all that we possess - to lay at your feet. In the place where your glory shines, Jesus, lover of all Mankind, you have drawn us with love sublime, to make us complete.
So I pause at your gates once more, as my heart and my spirit soar. And I wish I could love you more, My God and My King.
Is there tribute that I may bring, was there ever a song to sing, that can ever express my love, the work that you've done. Could I ever conceive of this, all the depth and the height and breadth, of the riches I now possess, because of your love.
So, I pause at your gates once more, as my heart and my spirit soar. And I wish I could love you more, My God and My King." - In the Beauty of Holiness, by Robin Mark.
I was thinking of this song today. It was once routed through my ears so often as to lose the appreciation for the words. I picked it up again later and was drawn by the passionate pace and gratitude expressed in the song. It is utterly beautiful and lovely, may its message sink into the depths of my soul and my attitude be reflective of this. I am reading Ragamuffin Gospel, by Brennan Manning. In chapter six it is referenced that Abraham Joshua Heschel, a rabbi, while recovering from a near-fatal heart attack whispered to a friend, "Sam, never once in my life did I ask God for success or wisdom of power or fame. I asked for wonder, and He gave it to me."
Such a simple request, and even if it be fable, legend, or story, it is a beautiful sentiment. C.S. Lewis converted to Christianity after one nightlong discussion with J.R.R. Tolkien and another apologist, when they convinced the fanciful Lewis that the Bible was the "Myth that was true."
Myths are more than stories, stronger than allegories, they are stably, morally and culturally rooted.
I want this life to hold childlike glee and joy. "The last part of any magic trick is that you cannot make it only disappear - you have to bring it back again. You'll go back through the trick, looking for the secret, but you won't find it - because you aren't really looking." - The Prestige (Christopher Nolen)
So I pause at your gates once more, as my heart and my spirit soar. And I wish I could love you more, My God and My King.
Is there tribute that I may bring, was there ever a song to sing, that can ever express my love, the work that you've done. Could I ever conceive of this, all the depth and the height and breadth, of the riches I now possess, because of your love.
So, I pause at your gates once more, as my heart and my spirit soar. And I wish I could love you more, My God and My King." - In the Beauty of Holiness, by Robin Mark.
I was thinking of this song today. It was once routed through my ears so often as to lose the appreciation for the words. I picked it up again later and was drawn by the passionate pace and gratitude expressed in the song. It is utterly beautiful and lovely, may its message sink into the depths of my soul and my attitude be reflective of this. I am reading Ragamuffin Gospel, by Brennan Manning. In chapter six it is referenced that Abraham Joshua Heschel, a rabbi, while recovering from a near-fatal heart attack whispered to a friend, "Sam, never once in my life did I ask God for success or wisdom of power or fame. I asked for wonder, and He gave it to me."
Such a simple request, and even if it be fable, legend, or story, it is a beautiful sentiment. C.S. Lewis converted to Christianity after one nightlong discussion with J.R.R. Tolkien and another apologist, when they convinced the fanciful Lewis that the Bible was the "Myth that was true."
Myths are more than stories, stronger than allegories, they are stably, morally and culturally rooted.
I want this life to hold childlike glee and joy. "The last part of any magic trick is that you cannot make it only disappear - you have to bring it back again. You'll go back through the trick, looking for the secret, but you won't find it - because you aren't really looking." - The Prestige (Christopher Nolen)
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Addiction - Glittery
I collect things compulsively. It is a hobby of mine - collections of items lined in a chronological manner cements the idea in my mind that time is indeed passing. Occasionally I wander into a discounted bookshop and amble the aisles in search of a kindred soul. I especially like the graphic novels - though they limit the imagination and direct the conception of a character, detailed art like this should be worth much more than the initial price.
Pity that these artists are seen as wasting their potential. In my imagination, I see a social event at which an artistic soul's unique sense of accoutrement stands apart - "What do you do, sir?" "I am a graphic novel penciller." "Isn't that lovely, wait... You are a comic book artist?" "... Yes."
I imagine that the conversation lags from that point.
But, yes, I and a friend used to compile archives of the modern mythology movement's masterpieces. Like Geoff John's "Blackest Night" saga, Neil Gaiman's "Marvel 1602," and Jonathan Hickman's "Secret Warriors" run. All of which pay tribute to classic story-lines, while flipping their predecessor's work on a dime, redefining what has gone before.
Before this, I had a binders-worth of sports cards, showing an action shot of an athlete while the achievements were listed on the opposing side. This nifty form of tracking was rendered practically obsolete with the dawn of the Internet. Fan-made websites could chronicle the exploits of the desired athlete, providing video as well as professional images, if not interviews with the star.
Why do we collect things? I do it to chronicle time and personal growth. I have no grand dreams any longer of a mint condition item of value. I want to channel my energy in an activity or interest in a manner that is eccentric, distinctive, and harmless (to any life form, a portion of my personal earnings were spent in this frivolous pursuit.)
What is your hobby, my reader? Why does it hold an interest in your heart?
Pity that these artists are seen as wasting their potential. In my imagination, I see a social event at which an artistic soul's unique sense of accoutrement stands apart - "What do you do, sir?" "I am a graphic novel penciller." "Isn't that lovely, wait... You are a comic book artist?" "... Yes."
I imagine that the conversation lags from that point.
But, yes, I and a friend used to compile archives of the modern mythology movement's masterpieces. Like Geoff John's "Blackest Night" saga, Neil Gaiman's "Marvel 1602," and Jonathan Hickman's "Secret Warriors" run. All of which pay tribute to classic story-lines, while flipping their predecessor's work on a dime, redefining what has gone before.
Before this, I had a binders-worth of sports cards, showing an action shot of an athlete while the achievements were listed on the opposing side. This nifty form of tracking was rendered practically obsolete with the dawn of the Internet. Fan-made websites could chronicle the exploits of the desired athlete, providing video as well as professional images, if not interviews with the star.
Why do we collect things? I do it to chronicle time and personal growth. I have no grand dreams any longer of a mint condition item of value. I want to channel my energy in an activity or interest in a manner that is eccentric, distinctive, and harmless (to any life form, a portion of my personal earnings were spent in this frivolous pursuit.)
What is your hobby, my reader? Why does it hold an interest in your heart?
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Reticence - Observation
I am quite fond of uncommon words - their connotation breathes stronger than the diluted fare of verbiage that we trade daily. Every so often, a word like this is thrown as a gauntlet, testing the mind as to whether it was used in the correct manner. Reticence is a type of attitude, a sort of reluctance to engage in the "shoot first, ask questions later" mentality. To analyze the situation in order to determine the best course to pursue.
This word is descriptive enough to shape an imaginary person's demeanor into a second dimension. Cordiality is another one of these words, for it is a lost art of our generation. There are exceptions to the rule, but they are just that - rare and valuable when discovered.
Words are the primary means of communication and it is a pity how carelessly they are tossed, mutilated into text-speak, and squeezed into improper context. I am not advocating the strictness of the Which's alarming edict in The Phantom Tollbooth - paring down the use of words until deciding the policy in the realm of words should be "Silence is Golden." Later on in the same book, the Soundkeeper grew so protective of her beloved bounty from the encroachment of nasty noise, that she stopped sound altogether in her valley. For if a sound was no longer heard and recognized by hearers - the sad truth was that it would cease to exist.
No, I am merely requesting that people would be mindful in their choice of expressing themselves. For in an age where communication is primarily done in an impersonal manner, we should keep in mind that the loss of the face-to-face banter needs the compensation of clarity in the words we will use. To be misunderstood is frustrating - your own words are flung in your face, albeit distorted and mangled.
There is a beauty and everything we are given to experience and use in this mortal plane, and I will be grateful for the voice I am given, though it may not reach the quality in song that I would wish. Though if everyone sang with a skilled voice, our choruses would be better, though the phenomenon of a gifted vocalist would not be as striking...
I apologize for the digression, and will not take any more of your invaluable time, I thank you for how much you have gifted me with already.
This word is descriptive enough to shape an imaginary person's demeanor into a second dimension. Cordiality is another one of these words, for it is a lost art of our generation. There are exceptions to the rule, but they are just that - rare and valuable when discovered.
Words are the primary means of communication and it is a pity how carelessly they are tossed, mutilated into text-speak, and squeezed into improper context. I am not advocating the strictness of the Which's alarming edict in The Phantom Tollbooth - paring down the use of words until deciding the policy in the realm of words should be "Silence is Golden." Later on in the same book, the Soundkeeper grew so protective of her beloved bounty from the encroachment of nasty noise, that she stopped sound altogether in her valley. For if a sound was no longer heard and recognized by hearers - the sad truth was that it would cease to exist.
No, I am merely requesting that people would be mindful in their choice of expressing themselves. For in an age where communication is primarily done in an impersonal manner, we should keep in mind that the loss of the face-to-face banter needs the compensation of clarity in the words we will use. To be misunderstood is frustrating - your own words are flung in your face, albeit distorted and mangled.
There is a beauty and everything we are given to experience and use in this mortal plane, and I will be grateful for the voice I am given, though it may not reach the quality in song that I would wish. Though if everyone sang with a skilled voice, our choruses would be better, though the phenomenon of a gifted vocalist would not be as striking...
I apologize for the digression, and will not take any more of your invaluable time, I thank you for how much you have gifted me with already.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Experience - Know Thyself
"Strangely out of place/ there is a light filling this room/ where none would follow before/ I can't deny it burns me up inside/ fan the flames to melt away my pride/ Do I want shelter from the rain, or the rain to wash me away?" - Jars of Clay (I need You).
Examine Yourself - Is there anything that you would change? There are certain attributes that rust more easily and tarnish quicker than we might wish. There are certain traits that we hold out of comfort rather than need or purpose. What would you like to be? If you are already there, I am happy for you, but to the rest of us - Why are we not there yet?
"I have no fear of drowning, it's the breathing that's taking all this work." - Jars of Clay (Work)
This group longs and pines but cannot achieve their mission single-handedly. In Psalms 1:1-3 "Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful. But his delight is in the law of the LORD; and in his law doth he meditate day and night. And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper."
Trees are interesting in nature, reaching for the sky while their roots dig deeply, drinking in the water of life. I am not much for spiritual euphemisms, because it rubs others the wrong way - it this is not the only authoritative way to interpret this passage. The Word of God is living and breathing, showing truth to those who wish to live in the light.
I love metaphors, but need to discern when they are applicable rather than showy. Jesus spoke in parables, so that his audience could have a handle on the eternal from the examples in their everyday lives. Even in this modern age - shared experiences are useful for communicating thoughts, emotions, and meaning. That song on the radio was compatible with my mood at the time. That character from that movie channeled how I was feeling inside. Remember when our friend did that really foolish act?
Experiences allow us to see ourselves and our friends more clearly, giving us a shared lens from which to view our lives. Until the Eternal becomes the Everyday, these parables are all the glimpse we shall have of the Kingdom of Heaven. Listen well, for it is Exceedingly Abundantly, above all we may imagine...
Examine Yourself - Is there anything that you would change? There are certain attributes that rust more easily and tarnish quicker than we might wish. There are certain traits that we hold out of comfort rather than need or purpose. What would you like to be? If you are already there, I am happy for you, but to the rest of us - Why are we not there yet?
"I have no fear of drowning, it's the breathing that's taking all this work." - Jars of Clay (Work)
This group longs and pines but cannot achieve their mission single-handedly. In Psalms 1:1-3 "Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful. But his delight is in the law of the LORD; and in his law doth he meditate day and night. And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper."
Trees are interesting in nature, reaching for the sky while their roots dig deeply, drinking in the water of life. I am not much for spiritual euphemisms, because it rubs others the wrong way - it this is not the only authoritative way to interpret this passage. The Word of God is living and breathing, showing truth to those who wish to live in the light.
I love metaphors, but need to discern when they are applicable rather than showy. Jesus spoke in parables, so that his audience could have a handle on the eternal from the examples in their everyday lives. Even in this modern age - shared experiences are useful for communicating thoughts, emotions, and meaning. That song on the radio was compatible with my mood at the time. That character from that movie channeled how I was feeling inside. Remember when our friend did that really foolish act?
Experiences allow us to see ourselves and our friends more clearly, giving us a shared lens from which to view our lives. Until the Eternal becomes the Everyday, these parables are all the glimpse we shall have of the Kingdom of Heaven. Listen well, for it is Exceedingly Abundantly, above all we may imagine...
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