What is comfort? What is wholeness? When you're driving down a tree-lined back road your hair frazzled by a warm breeze, your hand tossed as it hangs out the window...this, yes, this is beauty. this is truly feeling alive. when your heart's a wreck, when you don't have all the answers but you can still find happiness in the company of a quiet companion...this is life! Reading, writing, enjoying a fancy cup of Joe. Over-hearing talks of the arts, people, places...raves, stupidity, drug usage. Ah the inspiration that flows from hot spots for vegans. where's the beef??
Yes, I've been ripped apart, yes, I haven't shaved my legs, yes, I'm hungry, yes, I've a long way to go yet but what an adventure! I can sit here in this old time European style coffee shop, my hands jittery, my legs hairy, and I can dream again! I can write again.
Here's to you my huckleberry friend.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Sunday, June 27, 2010
melancholy sunday
I would like to begin with a small introduction. This entry is what we writers (if I may call myself that) call a 'string of consciousness'. I warn not to bring your mind, you are sure to lose it. I don't apologize for anything because, well, it's me. and frankly my dears...
If you have never seen the movie TiMER you should. It is a perfect balance of complexity and simplicity. I don’t usually condone movies that use the loveable ‘F’ word as a constant exclamation but for the reason of story you tend to overlook this.
I was sitting alone in my room on a lovely Sunday afternoon. I should have been outside. I should have been happy. Instead I watched this movie. I hit the red ‘x’ in the corner of the screen, Netflix my constant friend, disappeared into darkness. It was quiet in my room, in the house. I turned on some music. Next thing I know Christmas fills my room as Tony sings of bluebirds and snowmen. I reached to turn it, but my hand was stayed. I was in a sentimental mood. And a melancholy one at that. So back to the movie. It didn’t have the fulfilling Hollywood ending I was hoping for, yet, it was just what I needed. It wasn’t cliché, not in the sense that is normal to romantic films. I was left feeling empty. I thought about that feeling. I decided to channel it into a creative blank page. I drew. I tried to write a song. I didn’t feel like much of a musician after hanging out with my accomplished musically inclined friends last night. Why did I spend two hundred bucks on a guitar? Because it looked damn good on me.
I live in a funny world, thought I. Two Indian guys are sitting in my living room right now, drinking Coke. I’m up here in a stuffy room, tossed with clothes and dust for dressing. Dead flowers sit on my dresser, I’m an optimist. I watch romantic movies hoping that I can outlive my depressed heart. Yep, vital signs normal. Nothing suits me today. My outfit was boring, my curls hung the same way they always do. My statue of lovers embracing looked as wooden as ever. I laughed. Life is like a bunch of coconuts. I don’t like coconut. Maybe that’s what’s been going wrong. It’s not that I don’t enjoy my life. But today was just so especially melancholy. It deserved having that word said at least three times on one page. Relationships are overrated? Well, if Jack Johnson says so…I went beyond where I should’ve gone. I jumped and fell flat on my face. It felt good for a split second because I knew I could still feel. I had a heart, though buried, tangled in its ventricles, but there. Now I wait for a letter that will never come. I wait for my ‘somewhere beyond the sea’ moment. I sigh, a familiar sound to my ears, a familiar feeling in my gut. Going out tonight? Of course. Alone? Of course, is there any other way? I’m waiting, sitting on the edge of an empty life guard tower. I’m waiting to write the song. I’m trying to love you.
If you have never seen the movie TiMER you should. It is a perfect balance of complexity and simplicity. I don’t usually condone movies that use the loveable ‘F’ word as a constant exclamation but for the reason of story you tend to overlook this.
I was sitting alone in my room on a lovely Sunday afternoon. I should have been outside. I should have been happy. Instead I watched this movie. I hit the red ‘x’ in the corner of the screen, Netflix my constant friend, disappeared into darkness. It was quiet in my room, in the house. I turned on some music. Next thing I know Christmas fills my room as Tony sings of bluebirds and snowmen. I reached to turn it, but my hand was stayed. I was in a sentimental mood. And a melancholy one at that. So back to the movie. It didn’t have the fulfilling Hollywood ending I was hoping for, yet, it was just what I needed. It wasn’t cliché, not in the sense that is normal to romantic films. I was left feeling empty. I thought about that feeling. I decided to channel it into a creative blank page. I drew. I tried to write a song. I didn’t feel like much of a musician after hanging out with my accomplished musically inclined friends last night. Why did I spend two hundred bucks on a guitar? Because it looked damn good on me.
I live in a funny world, thought I. Two Indian guys are sitting in my living room right now, drinking Coke. I’m up here in a stuffy room, tossed with clothes and dust for dressing. Dead flowers sit on my dresser, I’m an optimist. I watch romantic movies hoping that I can outlive my depressed heart. Yep, vital signs normal. Nothing suits me today. My outfit was boring, my curls hung the same way they always do. My statue of lovers embracing looked as wooden as ever. I laughed. Life is like a bunch of coconuts. I don’t like coconut. Maybe that’s what’s been going wrong. It’s not that I don’t enjoy my life. But today was just so especially melancholy. It deserved having that word said at least three times on one page. Relationships are overrated? Well, if Jack Johnson says so…I went beyond where I should’ve gone. I jumped and fell flat on my face. It felt good for a split second because I knew I could still feel. I had a heart, though buried, tangled in its ventricles, but there. Now I wait for a letter that will never come. I wait for my ‘somewhere beyond the sea’ moment. I sigh, a familiar sound to my ears, a familiar feeling in my gut. Going out tonight? Of course. Alone? Of course, is there any other way? I’m waiting, sitting on the edge of an empty life guard tower. I’m waiting to write the song. I’m trying to love you.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
My life?
The story of my life began one summer day. this is how it occured..and came to pass.... and came into being.... and happened....and was hence forth.....And......As I walked through the countryside I noticed a small cottage. I longed to live in that cottage. to grow a vegetable garden and to pick fresh flowers for the table each day. To have bugs in my food from the fresh picked veggies..To feel the wet drip of rain as it fell through the holes in my roof...to always feel chilled never warm for the constant shrill breeze that squeezed its way through the mud-plastered walls. The sour smell of sweat on my brow as I tilled the land to make it beautiful and to call it my own. I suddenly came back to the world around me for I felt the eyes of someone upon me. I realized a small goat was watching me. Its beady eyes looked up at me with unemotional strain. I smiled sheepishly and the goat maa'd. I then thought about how wonderful it would be to be a goat. Eating all the time and eating everything. Maa’ing once and a while just for the heck of it. Maa’ing without care of what others thought of you. to shake your little tail at the world as if to say 'you can't pen me up! I am a free range goat! Proud to wonder the endless plains of this vast horizon!' my life seemed so complicated as i stood there and pondered. i realized that all I had accomplished in life was nothing next to the simplicity of the life of a goat. I wished now more than ever to live in that little cottage with all its imperfections. or to roam the great sea of wheat that never ceased to wave its heads. oh to be a stalk of wheat! I could rest in the sunlight. Lazily tossing my golden head of flax. I could stand for hours never tiring. but a wheat head's life must one day come to an end. soon it will be cereal on the breakfast table. And the cottage. What will become of it? It will soon be the kindling in another man's fire. I once again returned to my surroundings. I shook my head and began to walk away. I noticed a little bird chirping in the trees. Oh to be a bird I thought. Free to fly away from life's troubles.blah blah...
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
where's the beef?
we are ironic paradigms…we are called to give everything, yet we seek more…we are hungry yet we eat three square meals (or more)…
our lives are ones of constant wonder…we change, we stay the same, we hurt, we heal, we cry, we are joyfully abandoned…
i will never know how my heart became so tenderized, like a pounded piece of beef…the very shape of it distorted…i didn’t ask for this…i have never known such grief…to let go would mean the beginning of something, something new…but i cannot release this old haunting love that has been an inspiration for veritable novels.
a smile. a wink. a nod. a sweet embrace. a kind word. lost. ever so lost.
ever a piece of tenderized beef or a gently formed shape, the icon of love? just one glance…
this will be the day when the earth stands still. when time no longer matters, when love is in every heart beat, when hope mingles with tears. this will be the day.
our lives are ones of constant wonder…we change, we stay the same, we hurt, we heal, we cry, we are joyfully abandoned…
i will never know how my heart became so tenderized, like a pounded piece of beef…the very shape of it distorted…i didn’t ask for this…i have never known such grief…to let go would mean the beginning of something, something new…but i cannot release this old haunting love that has been an inspiration for veritable novels.
a smile. a wink. a nod. a sweet embrace. a kind word. lost. ever so lost.
ever a piece of tenderized beef or a gently formed shape, the icon of love? just one glance…
this will be the day when the earth stands still. when time no longer matters, when love is in every heart beat, when hope mingles with tears. this will be the day.
a december daydream.
Once upon a time I walked down a street. Oh hell how my feet hurt. I was alone as usual. I always seem to be alone. It’s a daily syndrome that I must admit I often enjoy. I can smile at leaves frown at people and no one gives a…well you know. This was one of those days where the east end coffee shop made me feel like I was in the happiest place on earth. Crap everywhere. It was a veritable Christmas morning. I found scraps of paper that contained the dirty figures of fingers long past. cups with milk that was just beginning to curdle. Newspapers headlining wal-mart. My large O.J. only seems to add to the Christmas cheer. Passers by all with places to go, me with nothing to do but stare at them in a wild way, sipping my orange juice. My hands begin to shake. That darn graham cracker did nothing for me. Three hours gone by, I should say not. Wow this classical music sure knows how to penetrate ear drums. I think I will be spending the last of my savings on a hearing aid. There’s a guy outside my window reading a book with a red cover. Another just walked by with his sweet blonde haired little girl. So many adjectives in one sentence. I walked by a shop earlier. The door was open. I had glanced at the window display which consisted of spray paint bottles and a painting of like mind. A guy inside said “thanks have a great day!” with such enthusiasm I couldn’t help but look inside as I went by. He seemed to pause when he saw me. Now in my perfect world 1) I would have gone inside (my original thought) or 2) he would have run out after me calling ‘wait! Wait! I don’t even know your name!” (think Cinderella). That’d be the life. HA!
a rambling.
“I’ve been busy planning a wedding but I keep on forgetting I do not have a groom…darn it.”
“Fall-der-all and fiddley doodle, all the dreamers in the world are dizzy in the noodle.”
“Oh inconsistent me, crying out for consistency!”
It is ever so surreal to me-how life changes, people come and go, nothing stays the same. I must admit I am in a rather sentimental, if not a somewhat depressed, mood. Maybe depressed isn’t the right word. Perhaps saddened would be better. I feel the ache of memories lost, of those remembered. It is an ache that makes life even more beautiful and worth living. I feel without words to express what is going on in my heart and yet I write. Maybe this is the irony that is my life. Words do not come, yet I write. My heart is saddened so I sing. I feel far from beautiful, yet I dance. I live a contradiction.
Pardon my enigmatic tone. I am sitting alone in my kitchen, having just eaten an entire bag of microwave kettle corn and M&M’s (try it sometime, it’s amazing). I went to bed at 3a.m. and woke up at 12 noon. It’s been an interesting day. Again, forgive this lack of explanation for why I write such a sentimental note. It seems that everywhere I go I am followed by white gowns and tuxedos. I walked into Target a couple weeks ago and the line by the wedding registry was huge. Perhaps I exaggerate, perhaps I don’t. I can’t even remember all the friends who are getting married, just got engaged, just got married, are having babies…All my single ladies, you feel me.
I don’t know what it is, but I joke not when I say that ‘marriage’ has practically been following me. I know that God pursues us and this could be his way of doing so for me; using a beautiful illustration to remind me of this. But I must say it has done more than just remind me. It has been thrown in my face. I’m a patient person (I can say that can’t I?) and I’ve been waiting this long-a few more years won’t hurt, right? It’s as though my life is waiting to happen and yet once again an irony…It is all these years, these memories that have made my life happen. This waiting has only helped shape me.
Ah the mysteries in life…why this pursuit? Oh God, how I question your ways. Sometimes I really don’t understand…I really, really don’t understand. Then yet another irony or miracle, yes a miraculous thing happens. I become conscience of his presence and I forget all my ‘pressing’ needs but at times, I become all the more aware of the fact that I am alone on earth. Woh drastic! You must be saying, but didn’t God say “It is not good for man (woman) to be alone”? Think about it. Everything in creation cries to be loved, cries for companionship, for intimacy, for romance, for adventure…Do you think God might have been trying to get a point across?
This idea of pursuit, of getting to know some one…this in a way, drives me crazy. In the words of my friend “I just want to skip the dating and get married”. Sometimes I truly wish this could be so. Why can’t romance be like that of the movies? The main characters fall in love within twenty minutes and are married within an hour or two (so much for the ‘I’m the patient type’). But the romance of the movies is inspired by something right? Could I really have all I dreamed and more? Can the stirring in my heart every time I hear that song or see that movie be for a reason?
I suppose you could say that this note is a bit of a follow up to the last one I posted about marriage. It has been a subject at the forefront of my mind (obviously). I’m not fishing for proposals (easy guys). I just enjoy exploring the many mysteries of life. Perhaps these romantic songs and movies are yet another way Jesus woos us to him; perhaps it is his way of using a relevant source to get to our hearts. I just know that the more I long for that earthly love the more I cling to Jesus in the waiting. And perhaps that was his purpose all along…
(thanks for reading my random Tuesday ramblings. sometimes I wonder at myself...)
“Fall-der-all and fiddley doodle, all the dreamers in the world are dizzy in the noodle.”
“Oh inconsistent me, crying out for consistency!”
It is ever so surreal to me-how life changes, people come and go, nothing stays the same. I must admit I am in a rather sentimental, if not a somewhat depressed, mood. Maybe depressed isn’t the right word. Perhaps saddened would be better. I feel the ache of memories lost, of those remembered. It is an ache that makes life even more beautiful and worth living. I feel without words to express what is going on in my heart and yet I write. Maybe this is the irony that is my life. Words do not come, yet I write. My heart is saddened so I sing. I feel far from beautiful, yet I dance. I live a contradiction.
Pardon my enigmatic tone. I am sitting alone in my kitchen, having just eaten an entire bag of microwave kettle corn and M&M’s (try it sometime, it’s amazing). I went to bed at 3a.m. and woke up at 12 noon. It’s been an interesting day. Again, forgive this lack of explanation for why I write such a sentimental note. It seems that everywhere I go I am followed by white gowns and tuxedos. I walked into Target a couple weeks ago and the line by the wedding registry was huge. Perhaps I exaggerate, perhaps I don’t. I can’t even remember all the friends who are getting married, just got engaged, just got married, are having babies…All my single ladies, you feel me.
I don’t know what it is, but I joke not when I say that ‘marriage’ has practically been following me. I know that God pursues us and this could be his way of doing so for me; using a beautiful illustration to remind me of this. But I must say it has done more than just remind me. It has been thrown in my face. I’m a patient person (I can say that can’t I?) and I’ve been waiting this long-a few more years won’t hurt, right? It’s as though my life is waiting to happen and yet once again an irony…It is all these years, these memories that have made my life happen. This waiting has only helped shape me.
Ah the mysteries in life…why this pursuit? Oh God, how I question your ways. Sometimes I really don’t understand…I really, really don’t understand. Then yet another irony or miracle, yes a miraculous thing happens. I become conscience of his presence and I forget all my ‘pressing’ needs but at times, I become all the more aware of the fact that I am alone on earth. Woh drastic! You must be saying, but didn’t God say “It is not good for man (woman) to be alone”? Think about it. Everything in creation cries to be loved, cries for companionship, for intimacy, for romance, for adventure…Do you think God might have been trying to get a point across?
This idea of pursuit, of getting to know some one…this in a way, drives me crazy. In the words of my friend “I just want to skip the dating and get married”. Sometimes I truly wish this could be so. Why can’t romance be like that of the movies? The main characters fall in love within twenty minutes and are married within an hour or two (so much for the ‘I’m the patient type’). But the romance of the movies is inspired by something right? Could I really have all I dreamed and more? Can the stirring in my heart every time I hear that song or see that movie be for a reason?
I suppose you could say that this note is a bit of a follow up to the last one I posted about marriage. It has been a subject at the forefront of my mind (obviously). I’m not fishing for proposals (easy guys). I just enjoy exploring the many mysteries of life. Perhaps these romantic songs and movies are yet another way Jesus woos us to him; perhaps it is his way of using a relevant source to get to our hearts. I just know that the more I long for that earthly love the more I cling to Jesus in the waiting. And perhaps that was his purpose all along…
(thanks for reading my random Tuesday ramblings. sometimes I wonder at myself...)
Monday, January 18, 2010
yellow.
i lie awake at night thinking of you. thoughts of you mingle with others. a jumbled mess of woes, of joys, of tears, of deep hidden places. the chaos of night brings me comfort somehow. its sounds wrap their arms around me, a strange sort of comfort.
i am alone in a room full. silence is a pervasive friend, light an enemy to my weary eyes. i wish for the eyes of my cat so that i may write in the sweet solace of darkness.
my chest aches. i breathe deeply hoping for an epiphany with each inhale.
outside my memory-stained window the world anxiously awaits the rising of the sun. nearly bursting with the hope that the rays might warm its weary bones. the stars are insomniacs, the moon a playful spotlight, teasing restless eyes with its promise of a brighter day.
a hymn soothes my pulsing temples. i try to dream of you but no image comes, no glimmer of a brighter day.
a day with you and me among an ocean of fiery leaves, their dying song sweet as they welcome their cousins green.
a brighter day.
i am alone in a room full. silence is a pervasive friend, light an enemy to my weary eyes. i wish for the eyes of my cat so that i may write in the sweet solace of darkness.
my chest aches. i breathe deeply hoping for an epiphany with each inhale.
outside my memory-stained window the world anxiously awaits the rising of the sun. nearly bursting with the hope that the rays might warm its weary bones. the stars are insomniacs, the moon a playful spotlight, teasing restless eyes with its promise of a brighter day.
a hymn soothes my pulsing temples. i try to dream of you but no image comes, no glimmer of a brighter day.
a day with you and me among an ocean of fiery leaves, their dying song sweet as they welcome their cousins green.
a brighter day.
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