How to Start a Blost (Blog Post).
This is a very good question.
Normal bloggers would upload a picture or two and write about that. I, with my sadly-lacking computer skillz, have yet to upload any pictures to my computer since before the beginning of summer. It is a sad fact because I am quite proud of my pictures. They have a calming quality to them.
Do you know what? School begins in two weeks.
Am I ready? I will be, after I organize some more and let go of some more. And clean some more.
A semi-adult's room is a never-ending Under Construction Zone, but I am going to change that this year.
Hey! Idea.
2009-2010 SCHOOL YEAR GOALS:
~Maintain order
-in schoolwork
-in personal space
-in personal life
`devotions
`exercise
`daily schedule
~Find a part-time job somewhere nice, like Starbucks. Or Barnes & Noble
-balance job, school, church, family, friends
~Refresh room
-put away old collections
-go through books
-go through clothes. Again
-go through storage closet
-go through Memory Box
-let go of Hopeful Clothes
-agree with sister on wall color
-put up separation curtains for closet
-clean carpet
-throw away majority of toys
~Expand extracurricularly
-take saxaphone lessons
WHERE I DRAW THE GOAL LINE
There. Whether I shall accomplish this all within the school year, I will let you know in June.
But I am DETERMINED.
Very determined.
8.17.2009
8.08.2009
Inspired
Dude. I've started a story (again) and I am in love with it. Something to feel proud of, once again; and I do feel very proud of it, regardless of how unoriginal and small it is. It is tasty.
Right now, I am in the middle of my favorite part of the writing process: planning and rough-drafting. It's exhilarating. Finding perfect-fit names, creating characters, researching... it is great fun. I know that the days ahead will prove to be full of stumbling blocks and un-inspiration, but I am just enjoying it right now.
The rundown: a young professor comes to teach at an English university stuck between the moors and the sea. A giant who spouts poetry left and right is the jack-of-all-trades maintenance manager. They meet, of course, and etc. happens.
It is simple but it is fun to write, and it shall never see the light of day.
(The best kind.)
I've enclosed two poems I've used so far (they should show you what kind of fluffy story its turning out to be, but I don't care. This is where I self-indulge).
Right now, I am in the middle of my favorite part of the writing process: planning and rough-drafting. It's exhilarating. Finding perfect-fit names, creating characters, researching... it is great fun. I know that the days ahead will prove to be full of stumbling blocks and un-inspiration, but I am just enjoying it right now.
The rundown: a young professor comes to teach at an English university stuck between the moors and the sea. A giant who spouts poetry left and right is the jack-of-all-trades maintenance manager. They meet, of course, and etc. happens.
It is simple but it is fun to write, and it shall never see the light of day.
(The best kind.)
I've enclosed two poems I've used so far (they should show you what kind of fluffy story its turning out to be, but I don't care. This is where I self-indulge).
You are a sky of autumn, pale and rose;
But all the sea of sadness in my blood
Surges, and ebbing, leaves my lips morose,
Salt with the memory of the bitter flood.In vain your hand glides my faint bosom o'er,
That which you seek, beloved, is desecrate
By woman's tooth and talon; ah, no more
Seek in me for a heart which those dogs ate.It is a ruin where the jackals rest,
And rend and tear and glut themselves and slay--
A perfume swims about your naked breast!Beauty, hard scourge of spirits, have your way!
With flame-like eyes that at bright feasts have flared
Burn up these tatters that the beasts have spared!"The Eyes of Beauty"
- Charles Baudelaire
(A wild poem, I know, but so rhythmical!)
Have seen dawn and sunset on moors and windy hills
Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of Spain:
I have seen the lady April brining in the daffodils,
Bringing the spring grasses and the soft warm April rain.I have heard the song of the blossoms and the old chant of the sea,
And seen strange lands from under the arched white sails of ships;
But the lovliest thing of beauty God ever has showed to me
Are her voice, and her hair, her eyes, and the dear red curve of her lips."Beauty"
- John Masefield
8.07.2009
Have You Met Jonah, My Spiritual Cousin?
SO! The Fine Arts results finally came in, and I am finally able to relax. And the results are GREAT! I love them! They mean I don't have to face any sort of music!
I am happy.
(The doomed story, by the way, was just that - doomed.)
(Best results ever, believe me. I made a mistake that could've meant serious conscience-pricking and getting-to-the-bottom-of-the-matter, so to see that my story didn't make it past cursory scrutiny [which is a bad thing in itself, I know, but beggars can't be choosers] was a tremendous relief.)
So that's how it's going, and I'm going to sleep now.
(Still dreaming chiffon-and-organdy dreams.)
I am happy.
(The doomed story, by the way, was just that - doomed.)
(Best results ever, believe me. I made a mistake that could've meant serious conscience-pricking and getting-to-the-bottom-of-the-matter, so to see that my story didn't make it past cursory scrutiny [which is a bad thing in itself, I know, but beggars can't be choosers] was a tremendous relief.)
So that's how it's going, and I'm going to sleep now.
(Still dreaming chiffon-and-organdy dreams.)
8.06.2009
Come Down Now..
This is such a different tone from the previous post, but that's how it goes sometimes.
Do you know, I am not the eldest after all. My mother told me a few years ago that she lost a baby before she had me...never even knew its gender.
I was so young when she told me and now I can't remember if she cried. But my parents never mention it - in fact, I think that I am the only one of my siblings that knows. I wonder about it a lot, though. I wonder how life would be different being the second child. I wish I knew when it - flew away - so I could maybe - celebrate? commemorate? I don't know.
(My mother wanted to forget that day, so she did.)
But, you remember that connection I talked about with Band of Brothers a few months ago? That same connection - a deeper one, even - is what I feel between myself and my too-precious-for-this-world sibling.
Oh, so many songs are flitting through my head as I write.
I'll Be Seeing You, Bing Crosby.
We'll Meet Again, Vera Lynn.
Old songs - the kinds that play in the back of your mind when you flip through a grandparent's sepia-tinged photo album.
I'm not going to ruminate on this longer. Some emotions are too sweet and bitter to be written down.
Do you know, I am not the eldest after all. My mother told me a few years ago that she lost a baby before she had me...never even knew its gender.
I was so young when she told me and now I can't remember if she cried. But my parents never mention it - in fact, I think that I am the only one of my siblings that knows. I wonder about it a lot, though. I wonder how life would be different being the second child. I wish I knew when it - flew away - so I could maybe - celebrate? commemorate? I don't know.
(My mother wanted to forget that day, so she did.)
But, you remember that connection I talked about with Band of Brothers a few months ago? That same connection - a deeper one, even - is what I feel between myself and my too-precious-for-this-world sibling.
Oh, so many songs are flitting through my head as I write.
I'll Be Seeing You, Bing Crosby.
We'll Meet Again, Vera Lynn.
Old songs - the kinds that play in the back of your mind when you flip through a grandparent's sepia-tinged photo album.
I'm not going to ruminate on this longer. Some emotions are too sweet and bitter to be written down.
I am thinking it's a sign
That the freckles in our eyes
Are mirror images and
When we kiss they're perfectly aligned
And I have to speculate
That God himself did make us into
Corresponding shapes like puzzles pieces
From the clay
True, it may seem like a stretch
But it's thoughts like this
That catch my troubled head
When you're away, when I am missing you to death
When you were out there on the road
For several weeks of shows
And when you scan the radio
I hope this song will guide you home
They will see us waving from such great heights
"Come down now," they'll say
But everything looks perfect from far away
"Come down now," but we'll stay
I've tried my best to leave
This all on your machine
But the persistent beat
Sounded thin upon listening
That frankly will not fly
You will hear the shrillest highs
And lowest lows with the windows down
When this is guiding you home
They will see us waving from such great heights
"Come down now," they'll say
But everything looks perfect from far away
"Come down now," but we'll say...Such Great Heights
Iron&Wine
Eighty-Seven Rivers
Post Number Eighty-Seven already. Geez....never thought I'd come this far.
(Now is where I start planning what I'll do for the Hundredth Post.)
I'm still floating around in Wedding Planning Land, and it is pleasant. Found the dress I will someday wear and started working out so I could look good in it this morning. :D
My mother and I popped in a Taebo tape and huffed and puffed along to Billy Banks's "Push your butt into the floor!"
Now I am listening to elegant music and warding off an impending cold with hot peppermint tea (never try cold peppermint tea. It is Nastay).
In the midst of all this hum-druminess, I've found serenity.
What did that one Wise Man say? Serenity is found in simplicity?
It is quite true.
Last night, after poring over Modern Bride, I went to sleep and dreamt organdy-and-chiffon-swathed dreams. I woke up at an even 10:thirty, exercised as far as my out-of-shape self could, showered, fed Isaac Jeremiah and put him to sleep, and pined after the trip to Orlando that I could not participate in. Now I am online, my sister is outside, both brothers are sleeping, Papa is at work, and Mama's finishing the bridesmaid dresses.
I was very worried over my Fine Arts story because of a fatal mistake I made (if I make it, I make it unfairly and my FA reputation will be forever tarnished. If I don't make it... well, you know. So it's a lose/lose situation.), but now I am all right.
Oh! It's Thursday!
I don't think I ever mentioned how much I love Thursdays. Sweet Thursdays.
I began a literary thinger a few months ago where I would sum up the entire week since Thursday in a sort of paragraph poem. Haven't done it in a while, but it was sweet while I was still continuing.
It gave me perspective.
But even now, as I think on Thursdays, a delectable taste comes into my mind; a mental bowl of chocolate ice cream, if you will.
Dude - there are so many things to love in life. I'm so glad God has given me the gift of life. It's such a Huge gift! It's insane!
But so lovely.
(Now is where I start planning what I'll do for the Hundredth Post.)
I'm still floating around in Wedding Planning Land, and it is pleasant. Found the dress I will someday wear and started working out so I could look good in it this morning. :D
My mother and I popped in a Taebo tape and huffed and puffed along to Billy Banks's "Push your butt into the floor!"
Now I am listening to elegant music and warding off an impending cold with hot peppermint tea (never try cold peppermint tea. It is Nastay).
In the midst of all this hum-druminess, I've found serenity.
What did that one Wise Man say? Serenity is found in simplicity?
It is quite true.
Last night, after poring over Modern Bride, I went to sleep and dreamt organdy-and-chiffon-swathed dreams. I woke up at an even 10:thirty, exercised as far as my out-of-shape self could, showered, fed Isaac Jeremiah and put him to sleep, and pined after the trip to Orlando that I could not participate in. Now I am online, my sister is outside, both brothers are sleeping, Papa is at work, and Mama's finishing the bridesmaid dresses.
I was very worried over my Fine Arts story because of a fatal mistake I made (if I make it, I make it unfairly and my FA reputation will be forever tarnished. If I don't make it... well, you know. So it's a lose/lose situation.), but now I am all right.
Oh! It's Thursday!
I don't think I ever mentioned how much I love Thursdays. Sweet Thursdays.
I began a literary thinger a few months ago where I would sum up the entire week since Thursday in a sort of paragraph poem. Haven't done it in a while, but it was sweet while I was still continuing.
It gave me perspective.
But even now, as I think on Thursdays, a delectable taste comes into my mind; a mental bowl of chocolate ice cream, if you will.
Dude - there are so many things to love in life. I'm so glad God has given me the gift of life. It's such a Huge gift! It's insane!
But so lovely.
Moon river, wider than a mile
I’m crossing you in style some day
Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker
Wherever you’re goin’, i’m goin’ your way
Two drifters, off to see the world
There’s such a lot of world to see
We’re after the same rainbow’s end, waitin’ ’round the bend
My huckleberry friend, moon river, and me
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)