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Sunday, November 29, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
"I shall never finish up..i'll make myself no man"
I dreamt of her again. Nothing happens. She just stands there as the dream goes on. Things are happening all around me, different scenarios, and she is simply a witness, never playing a part, never commenting. She just stares.
9:20am
My sister excitedly runs downstairs to the head of the pull-out bed sofa I was sleeping on,
"The parade is on!!!!"
Thanksgiving 2009 has begun.
Our family Thanksgivings are always pretty standard. It's that traditional imagery of tons of food, family, football, and little kids running around. And I love it. It really is great. My family is a such a beautiful group of people and I am so blessed to have them in my life.
One thing that has taken root in the most recent few family gatherings has been these long in depth discussions between my dad and my uncle and I. It usually starts as a political rant and slowly everyone but us seems to leave the room, assuming that we're arguing. My aunt always shakes her head disapprovingly and says that we "shouldn't be talking like this on Thanksgiving, on a family get-together."
I always try to tell her we are simply talking but she always shakes her head and goes to start the Thanksgiving cleanup.
I always appreciate these talks. We compare ideas and politics we feel strongly about. We never usually come to a resounding agreement, but we play devils advocate, respecting each others opinions and trying to understand the other side of things.
Tonight, something a bit unsettling eventually came up. My uncle claimed that when I "grow up" I'll become jaded.
My dad soon left and it was just my uncle and I. We walked outside and took in the cold night air. He said he finds it hard to find beauty in the world sometimes...more often than not. And this scared me. Because I countered with a notion that no matter what I go through, I can always find some beauty, some goodness in the situation at hand. Its something I attribute to my relationship with God. At any point, I can look up at night and see the binding connection between man and God...the sky. That big blanket of stars. That serene gaze looking back into my unsettled mind. I told him all of this.
My uncle said that he worries about raising his daughters so much, what decisions to make, how to suppress this fear he carries. He worries about finances and career to an alarming degree. "It never used to be like this. It's just been these past few years. I used to see 'the stars'" His views of the world were so jaded. I love my uncle. He's an amazing man who does so much for his family and community. But his overall perception of the world was that it was all for nothing. He didn't say this. But by the way he was talking, it seemed like he was only looking forward to getting by. To making his best attempt at life. Which isn't wrong. But what about the beauty! What about the amazing things that have happened in his lifetime? The sky! The sunrises, the roadtrips, the smiles on his little girls faces?
Its good that he was getting this all out. Our family doesn't talk openly like this a whole lot. He seemed much more relieved when I assured him that his daughters were beautiful girls who were so mature and well behaved. He was doing an amazing job. He wasn't emotional about it all. He was stern and wise. Simply telling me how things are.
I hope this opens his mind more to that beauty you can always seem to find in good times and bad, if you look at life the right way. And to never become too content in your surroundings. There a whole wide world out there.
I'm thankful for my uncle, and the beauty God has put in front of our eyes if we choose to see it
I hope I can look back on this and still agree with myself.
9:20am
My sister excitedly runs downstairs to the head of the pull-out bed sofa I was sleeping on,
"The parade is on!!!!"
Thanksgiving 2009 has begun.
Our family Thanksgivings are always pretty standard. It's that traditional imagery of tons of food, family, football, and little kids running around. And I love it. It really is great. My family is a such a beautiful group of people and I am so blessed to have them in my life.
One thing that has taken root in the most recent few family gatherings has been these long in depth discussions between my dad and my uncle and I. It usually starts as a political rant and slowly everyone but us seems to leave the room, assuming that we're arguing. My aunt always shakes her head disapprovingly and says that we "shouldn't be talking like this on Thanksgiving, on a family get-together."
I always try to tell her we are simply talking but she always shakes her head and goes to start the Thanksgiving cleanup.
I always appreciate these talks. We compare ideas and politics we feel strongly about. We never usually come to a resounding agreement, but we play devils advocate, respecting each others opinions and trying to understand the other side of things.
Tonight, something a bit unsettling eventually came up. My uncle claimed that when I "grow up" I'll become jaded.
My dad soon left and it was just my uncle and I. We walked outside and took in the cold night air. He said he finds it hard to find beauty in the world sometimes...more often than not. And this scared me. Because I countered with a notion that no matter what I go through, I can always find some beauty, some goodness in the situation at hand. Its something I attribute to my relationship with God. At any point, I can look up at night and see the binding connection between man and God...the sky. That big blanket of stars. That serene gaze looking back into my unsettled mind. I told him all of this.
My uncle said that he worries about raising his daughters so much, what decisions to make, how to suppress this fear he carries. He worries about finances and career to an alarming degree. "It never used to be like this. It's just been these past few years. I used to see 'the stars'" His views of the world were so jaded. I love my uncle. He's an amazing man who does so much for his family and community. But his overall perception of the world was that it was all for nothing. He didn't say this. But by the way he was talking, it seemed like he was only looking forward to getting by. To making his best attempt at life. Which isn't wrong. But what about the beauty! What about the amazing things that have happened in his lifetime? The sky! The sunrises, the roadtrips, the smiles on his little girls faces?
Its good that he was getting this all out. Our family doesn't talk openly like this a whole lot. He seemed much more relieved when I assured him that his daughters were beautiful girls who were so mature and well behaved. He was doing an amazing job. He wasn't emotional about it all. He was stern and wise. Simply telling me how things are.
I hope this opens his mind more to that beauty you can always seem to find in good times and bad, if you look at life the right way. And to never become too content in your surroundings. There a whole wide world out there.
I'm thankful for my uncle, and the beauty God has put in front of our eyes if we choose to see it
I hope I can look back on this and still agree with myself.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
G'Night
I learn so much about myself with each and every new day.
Oh, and finding those small instances of beauty in day to day life is essential to happiness...more so than taking in the monumental moments of beauty.
Ok goodnight for real this time.
Oh, and finding those small instances of beauty in day to day life is essential to happiness...more so than taking in the monumental moments of beauty.
Ok goodnight for real this time.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Marion Dressma...I mean Cotillard
I'm not usually one to be starstruck. But really? This is just unfair...
Find a flaw. Seriously, it's not possible.
Find a flaw. Seriously, it's not possible.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Notes on a Thought
I don't want to sound redundant.
But what I'm essentially writing is the overused phrase, "music is my life!".
You see it all over facebooks and myspaces and internet profiles. What usually follows is a list of artists like Nickleback or Taylor Swift. When I see it, my mind defaults to passing it off with this elitist attitude. Anyone who could write something like that must be musically ignorant.
And moments after I chastise myself for thinking such thoughts. Who am I to say what is good and what is not? Why am I so quick to judge someone? I will never stop having those thoughts though. The music I listen to is SO obviously superior to anyone else's, right? That filter my ears and mind use so often is flawless. Only good comes through it. Obviously, I'm being sarcastic, but my mind subconsciously believes this until I tell myself to be less critical and more open minded.
I find it so fascinating how we possess music as our own. We listen to a song that so perfectly captures the mood we want to feel or the words we want to sing. And just like that the song is ours. It's a flag we proudly wave above our heads or a secret we hold in the back of our mind. If someone else likes it, we get excited that someone else has "good/similar taste" or we feel this intrusion.
This doesn't happen for each and every song I listen to...but it happens more often than not. And when it does it's a thing of beauty:
Music is the soft shade of grey my fingertip sounds as I flip through my iPod library. The tap against the touch-sensitive screen prompts the music to flow through the off-white wires plugging my ears. A melodious string of musical notes start one after another within the song. It's a live recording and I hear the slight inhale of the lead singer before he breathes lyrics into the microphone. The audience chatter dies down suddenly and I can hear their necks craning to face the silhouette in the spotlight. The voice, carrying a piece of the artists' heart, travels through the hanging speakers on either side of the stage. Those in the audience with a mind at ease soon click into the tune.
These sounds forming as one into a song on my iPod. A piece of beauty I can open at any given moment. The world is a beautiful place.
At the quiet moments, I hear my feet shuffling, each foot to pavement landing a sonic boom against the soft vibrations flowing through my brain. Other times, as I sit or lie in place, all is still. The tap of the screen, the notes flowing through the pieces of plastic in my ears. I close my eyes and I give my whole self over to the sound. The orchestration begins its steady build up to the musical equivalent of an orgasm. It's a slow but steady rise that seems to tenderly synchronize my heart beat with the tempo. I am in tune with the song and the life around me. Images pass through my mind against the insides of my eyelids - normally mundane visuals from the day that are now somehow placed in this heightened filter. And in some instances, its just a comforting pitch black image of sound. The melody replacing any need for images of every day life, girls, beauty, God.
And when the music begins its steady descent or its abrupt stop, there is silence. And the silence has a beat of its own.
But what I'm essentially writing is the overused phrase, "music is my life!".
You see it all over facebooks and myspaces and internet profiles. What usually follows is a list of artists like Nickleback or Taylor Swift. When I see it, my mind defaults to passing it off with this elitist attitude. Anyone who could write something like that must be musically ignorant.
And moments after I chastise myself for thinking such thoughts. Who am I to say what is good and what is not? Why am I so quick to judge someone? I will never stop having those thoughts though. The music I listen to is SO obviously superior to anyone else's, right? That filter my ears and mind use so often is flawless. Only good comes through it. Obviously, I'm being sarcastic, but my mind subconsciously believes this until I tell myself to be less critical and more open minded.
I find it so fascinating how we possess music as our own. We listen to a song that so perfectly captures the mood we want to feel or the words we want to sing. And just like that the song is ours. It's a flag we proudly wave above our heads or a secret we hold in the back of our mind. If someone else likes it, we get excited that someone else has "good/similar taste" or we feel this intrusion.
This doesn't happen for each and every song I listen to...but it happens more often than not. And when it does it's a thing of beauty:
Music is the soft shade of grey my fingertip sounds as I flip through my iPod library. The tap against the touch-sensitive screen prompts the music to flow through the off-white wires plugging my ears. A melodious string of musical notes start one after another within the song. It's a live recording and I hear the slight inhale of the lead singer before he breathes lyrics into the microphone. The audience chatter dies down suddenly and I can hear their necks craning to face the silhouette in the spotlight. The voice, carrying a piece of the artists' heart, travels through the hanging speakers on either side of the stage. Those in the audience with a mind at ease soon click into the tune.
These sounds forming as one into a song on my iPod. A piece of beauty I can open at any given moment. The world is a beautiful place.
At the quiet moments, I hear my feet shuffling, each foot to pavement landing a sonic boom against the soft vibrations flowing through my brain. Other times, as I sit or lie in place, all is still. The tap of the screen, the notes flowing through the pieces of plastic in my ears. I close my eyes and I give my whole self over to the sound. The orchestration begins its steady build up to the musical equivalent of an orgasm. It's a slow but steady rise that seems to tenderly synchronize my heart beat with the tempo. I am in tune with the song and the life around me. Images pass through my mind against the insides of my eyelids - normally mundane visuals from the day that are now somehow placed in this heightened filter. And in some instances, its just a comforting pitch black image of sound. The melody replacing any need for images of every day life, girls, beauty, God.
And when the music begins its steady descent or its abrupt stop, there is silence. And the silence has a beat of its own.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Consumerism
Today, I walked past a woman sitting in her car.
She was cradling, yes cradling, a brand new still-in-the-box Snuggie.
That's all.
Bye.
She was cradling, yes cradling, a brand new still-in-the-box Snuggie.
That's all.
Bye.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Dance
I am not a dancer, I never have been. But I've always admired it. I've always found it amazing to watch someone transcend that thin line between stillness and motion.
Dancing gives life this ethereal quality. It's not just a physical motion, it's a way of thinking, the whimsical pattern your mind can snap in to when prompted with a certain sight or thought. I find myself able to relate to that fluid motion when I see it. I am standing completely still, yet I am dancing.
My mind dances when I hear that unquestionable melody. My heartbeat, a series of grand jetés. It's a way rolling with the motions life places in front of you.
I guess I am a bit of a dancer.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Reverie #5
"I wanted so many times while driving to flip, to skid and flip and fall from the car and have something happen. I wanted to land on my head and lose half of it, or land on my legs and lose one or both. I wanted something to happen so my choices would be fewer, so my map would have a route straight through, in red. I wanted limitations, boundaries, to ease the burden; because the agony, Jack, when we were up there in the dark, was in the silence! All I ever wanted was to know what to do. In these last months I've had no clue, I've been paralyzed by the quiet, and for a moment something spoke to me, and we came here, or came to Africa, and intermittently there were answers, intermittently there was a chorus and they sang to us and pointing, and were watching and approving, but just as often there was silence, and we stood blinking under the sun, or under the black sky, and we had to think of what to do next."
-You Shall Know Our Velocity - Dave Eggers
I think this is perfect. It so perfectly captures the thoughts my mind have been thinking lately.
Lately, I've been standing against guardrails thinking of nothing. I've been reading books and not dwelling on them. I've been eating and not tasting.
Despite popular belief, running is a refuge. Running doesn't have to mean cowardice. Running into temporary comfort is a much-needed antidote every once in a while. Our society tells us it is wrong to run, wrong to flee from the scene. But it feel so nice to abandon it all and be a solitary individual walking home.
to let my mind fall flat
in the back of my head
underneath the unkempt mess
a deflated soccer ball
a remnant of my thoughts
outlines of the past
i want for nothing
This isn't meant to be an unhappy post. I'm content. Life goes on and I admire it as it passes. This thought pattern I'm in will soon break , as things tend to do.
I really do feel like it's impossible for me to have anything less than a sunny disposition at all times. I have my moments of sadness and grief but they never stay in tact. My mind always flips a reset button and I'm looking at tomorrow.
-You Shall Know Our Velocity - Dave Eggers
I think this is perfect. It so perfectly captures the thoughts my mind have been thinking lately.
Lately, I've been standing against guardrails thinking of nothing. I've been reading books and not dwelling on them. I've been eating and not tasting.
Despite popular belief, running is a refuge. Running doesn't have to mean cowardice. Running into temporary comfort is a much-needed antidote every once in a while. Our society tells us it is wrong to run, wrong to flee from the scene. But it feel so nice to abandon it all and be a solitary individual walking home.
to let my mind fall flat
in the back of my head
underneath the unkempt mess
a deflated soccer ball
a remnant of my thoughts
outlines of the past
i want for nothing
This isn't meant to be an unhappy post. I'm content. Life goes on and I admire it as it passes. This thought pattern I'm in will soon break , as things tend to do.
I really do feel like it's impossible for me to have anything less than a sunny disposition at all times. I have my moments of sadness and grief but they never stay in tact. My mind always flips a reset button and I'm looking at tomorrow.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Ah well, you know...
I need a girl, dammit.
I've always been one of those people that has been completely fine with being single. Really, I love it. There is so much clarity and self-discovery that comes along with it. But at this exact moment, I want nothing else in the world more than to find someone.
You know, and I even recognize that it won't change things all that much. It's not like "my life is meaningless without a significant other to share it with!"
I just simply want to appease my mind. I want to give in to that petty feeling I get every once and a while.
As a matter of fact, I'm sure I'll look back on this entry tomorrow and chastise myself for giving in to writing it.
Note to future self: "Ok yeah. I get it. Sorry, it won't happen again...(yes it will)"
Note to future girl: "Disregard this post please."
I've always been one of those people that has been completely fine with being single. Really, I love it. There is so much clarity and self-discovery that comes along with it. But at this exact moment, I want nothing else in the world more than to find someone.
You know, and I even recognize that it won't change things all that much. It's not like "my life is meaningless without a significant other to share it with!"
I just simply want to appease my mind. I want to give in to that petty feeling I get every once and a while.
As a matter of fact, I'm sure I'll look back on this entry tomorrow and chastise myself for giving in to writing it.
Note to future self: "Ok yeah. I get it. Sorry, it won't happen again...(yes it will)"
Note to future girl: "Disregard this post please."
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