In everything that's happened today, I have one question:
Why do we feel compelled to say something in the face of tragedy?
One of our pastors died today from thyroid cancer. My family didn't find out until just now, and my mom seems to want to talk until the funeral; Facebook is flooded with R.I.P.'s and everything from people who I can guarantee never said more than two sentences to her.
Maybe I judge too quickly and strongly (something I seem to be doing a lot lately) but people are so awkward and sometimes I wish everyone would just stop talking. Does it ever help? I tried it, talking to people about the bad things in my life, or even the good things (in the hopes that they would last, somehow, attached to my life by the fragile thread of words), but the bad things continue and the good things fade.
It occurs to me that I am a person as much as everyone else--my first impulse was to sit down and write. Or yell.
Music seems inappropriate in the face of my mother's grief (she truly knew and loved her) but I feel that it is one of the balms that life lends us.
I have no right to speak. I learned once, when someone I loved but little knew left and I stood up to speak and felt shunned. Ever since then I really don't feel like speaking or doing anything without thinking it through very thoroughly. It's wise, and every time I don't think it through, I end up on long guilt-trips and in embarrassing situations.
Time has lost all meaning to me. Yesterday seems as far away as three years ago; tomorrow is as long as eternity.
Oh, crap. The irony just hit me--my aunt went into labor today, nearly two weeks overdue. Sometimes I think that God has a sick sense of humor; but I remember the moments when I was awash in His love (Saturday night) and repent.
Jesus! Why pray when You obviously already know the outcome? Why encourage our hopes with prayer services and then snatch her away within five days? Questions, questions. Even when I have my answers, I still have questions.
Good night.
11.23.2009
11.20.2009
Horoom Mah Hmm
Four books in three days. Not bad, I say!
Went to the library on Tuesday, checked out If I Stay, by Gayle Forman, Wintergirls and Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson, The Book of Ruth by Jane Hamilton, and The Hobbit by Tolkien.
Finished Tolkien first, and thoroughly enjoyed it. Started The Book of Ruth and hated it. One chapter in and I was disgusted. If I Stay was gorgeous, as were both of Anderson's books.
Now I am reading Of Rice and Men, the book my brother checked out. Lots of reading this week, not as much writing as I wanted to do (so what's new?). Lots of sad moments this week, but good moments, too. It's been a week--that's what I can say.
So. I am thinking of being secretive and starting a private e-mail account for an anonymous blog, because I can't stand to delete this one. We'll see.
Tomorrow I am playing flag football (maybe. If my team needs a player) and, with the memory of my cringing stomach muscles after doing ten quick push-ups on Wednesday, I am not too happy about the possibility. BUT. I am almost looking forward to it, too. Who knows? Whichever way the wind blows.
I realized that this NaNoWriMo holds no chains for me creatively. Why follow the plotline? Indeed, why even bother to write one cohesive story? Isn't the point of NaNo just to write? Why not just write, then, without worries about 'does this fit with the proposed plotline' and whatnot. Who knows--maybe it will take a curve and turn into one story, after all.
So right now I'm writing about Death, who's actual name is Absalom.
I'm leaning toward a love story.
http://www.johnnywander.com/comics/100
Because every writer needs inspiration!
Went to the library on Tuesday, checked out If I Stay, by Gayle Forman, Wintergirls and Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson, The Book of Ruth by Jane Hamilton, and The Hobbit by Tolkien.
Finished Tolkien first, and thoroughly enjoyed it. Started The Book of Ruth and hated it. One chapter in and I was disgusted. If I Stay was gorgeous, as were both of Anderson's books.
Now I am reading Of Rice and Men, the book my brother checked out. Lots of reading this week, not as much writing as I wanted to do (so what's new?). Lots of sad moments this week, but good moments, too. It's been a week--that's what I can say.
So. I am thinking of being secretive and starting a private e-mail account for an anonymous blog, because I can't stand to delete this one. We'll see.
Tomorrow I am playing flag football (maybe. If my team needs a player) and, with the memory of my cringing stomach muscles after doing ten quick push-ups on Wednesday, I am not too happy about the possibility. BUT. I am almost looking forward to it, too. Who knows? Whichever way the wind blows.
I realized that this NaNoWriMo holds no chains for me creatively. Why follow the plotline? Indeed, why even bother to write one cohesive story? Isn't the point of NaNo just to write? Why not just write, then, without worries about 'does this fit with the proposed plotline' and whatnot. Who knows--maybe it will take a curve and turn into one story, after all.
So right now I'm writing about Death, who's actual name is Absalom.
I'm leaning toward a love story.
http://www.johnnywander.com/comics/100
Because every writer needs inspiration!
11.18.2009
Pictures. Yay.
Ian McKellan. Secretly masquerading as Gandalf.
Cate Blanchett might as well be Galadriel.
I can guarantee that Liv Tyler has less cause for concern than Arwen.
Hugo Weaving, when Erestor isn't looking, because he'd never recognize him as Elrond, anyway.
Poor Frodo.11.17.2009
When it is dark enough, you can see the Stars.
Listening to Christmas music on one of my playlists. Nice day today. Finished Unfinished Tales earlier, and just finished The Hobbit. Every time I read Tolkien, I feel as if I've come home. Gandalf is like an old friend, Elrond an old confidante.
Speaking of Elrond.
First time I read The Hobbit was today, and I caught something that summed up my Impossible List in a pithy sentence. Here:
And then, of course, a description of his Last Homely House:
What can I say? Tolkien inspires my dreams. I dream of a house someday with an Elrond-like husband. A house that is perfect, with a bright, clean, green kitchen and a plum dining room.
A serene, delicate, intricately decorated bedroom with a balcony shuttered by breezy silver drapery overlooking a woodsy garden.
Plenty of labors to keep busy with, in estate upkeep and hobby. A stable would not be out of place, methinks.
A library! With walls upon walls of books, art, sculptures, maps, and a crowd of great stuffed armchairs in front of a white, roaring fireplace.
A music room, of course, with a pretty piano and a mandolin and a violin; of course, stacks of CD's or records or whatever stacked asymmetrically around the room. Perhaps I'll kidnap a philharmonic flutist and keep her in a cage hung from the ceiling.
Then there must be an alcove outside, beside a lake populated with a family of swans and herons. Flocks of birds flying about the place, thrushes and swallows and terns. A marble bench next to willows and aspens and pointed firs. Cattails. Turtles. And a stone pathway winding through the trees to the house. Need I even mention the trailing vines, ferns, flowers, herbs, and Spanish moss?
I think that my life has the potential to be lovely. It is already lovingly blessed by my Father in heaven, and somehow, even with my multiple mistakes and character flaws and failures, there is still that little bird of hope that persistently perches in my heart and inspires me to believe that I am bound for a land of Promise, whether that be here or in my Father's house.
And after much searching and reading, I have a favorite Bible passage (excluding Song of Songs): John 14.
And, you know, there really is no other version like the King James version for poetic beauty or resonance. The Message comes close, but the mere dustiness of Old English lends the words an ethereal aroma that seems like a whiff of heaven.
John 14
1 Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me.
2 In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.
3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.
4 And whither I go ye know, and the way ye know.
5 Thomas saith unto him, Lord, we know not whither thou goest; and how can we know the way?
6 Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.
7 If ye had known me, ye should have known my Father also: and from henceforth ye know him, and have seen him.
8 Philip saith unto him, Lord, show us the Father, and it sufficeth us.
9 Jesus saith unto him, Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not known me, Philip? he that hath seen me hath seen the Father; and how sayest thou then, Show us the Father?
10 Believest thou not that I am in the Father, and the Father in me? the words that I speak unto you I speak not of myself: but the Father that dwelleth in me, he doeth the works.
11 Believe me that I am in the Father, and the Father in me: or else believe me for the very works' sake.
12 Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on me, the works that I do shall he do also; and greater works than these shall he do; because I go unto my Father.
13 And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son.
14 If ye shall ask any thing in my name, I will do it.
15 If ye love me, keep my commandments.
16 And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever;
17 Even the Spirit of truth; whom the world cannot receive, because it seeth him not, neither knoweth him: but ye know him; for he dwelleth with you, and shall be in you.
18 I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you.
19 Yet a little while, and the world seeth me no more; but ye see me: because I live, ye shall live also.
20 At that day ye shall know that I am in my Father, and ye in me, and I in you.
21 He that hath my commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me: and he that loveth me shall be loved of my Father, and I will love him, and will manifest myself to him.
22 Judas saith unto him, not Iscariot, Lord, how is it that thou wilt manifest thyself unto us, and not unto the world?
23 Jesus answered and said unto him, If a man love me, he will keep my words: and my Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him.
24 He that loveth me not keepeth not my sayings: and the word which ye hear is not mine, but the Father's which sent me.
25 These things have I spoken unto you, being yet present with you.
26 But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you.
27 Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.
28 Ye have heard how I said unto you, I go away, and come again unto you. If ye loved me, ye would rejoice, because I said, I go unto the Father: for my Father is greater than I.
29 And now I have told you before it come to pass, that, when it is come to pass, ye might believe.
30 Hereafter I will not talk much with you: for the prince of this world cometh, and hath nothing in me.
31 But that the world may know that I love the Father; and as the Father gave me commandment, even so I do. Arise, let us go hence.
Speaking of Elrond.
First time I read The Hobbit was today, and I caught something that summed up my Impossible List in a pithy sentence. Here:
"He was as noble and as fair in face as an elf-lord, as strong as a warrior, as wise as a wizard, as venerable as a king of dwarves, and kind as summer."
And then, of course, a description of his Last Homely House:
"His house was perfect, whether you liked food, or sleep, or work, or story-telling, or singing, or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all. Evil things did not come into that valley."
What can I say? Tolkien inspires my dreams. I dream of a house someday with an Elrond-like husband. A house that is perfect, with a bright, clean, green kitchen and a plum dining room.
A serene, delicate, intricately decorated bedroom with a balcony shuttered by breezy silver drapery overlooking a woodsy garden.
Plenty of labors to keep busy with, in estate upkeep and hobby. A stable would not be out of place, methinks.
A library! With walls upon walls of books, art, sculptures, maps, and a crowd of great stuffed armchairs in front of a white, roaring fireplace.
A music room, of course, with a pretty piano and a mandolin and a violin; of course, stacks of CD's or records or whatever stacked asymmetrically around the room. Perhaps I'll kidnap a philharmonic flutist and keep her in a cage hung from the ceiling.
Then there must be an alcove outside, beside a lake populated with a family of swans and herons. Flocks of birds flying about the place, thrushes and swallows and terns. A marble bench next to willows and aspens and pointed firs. Cattails. Turtles. And a stone pathway winding through the trees to the house. Need I even mention the trailing vines, ferns, flowers, herbs, and Spanish moss?
I think that my life has the potential to be lovely. It is already lovingly blessed by my Father in heaven, and somehow, even with my multiple mistakes and character flaws and failures, there is still that little bird of hope that persistently perches in my heart and inspires me to believe that I am bound for a land of Promise, whether that be here or in my Father's house.
And after much searching and reading, I have a favorite Bible passage (excluding Song of Songs): John 14.
And, you know, there really is no other version like the King James version for poetic beauty or resonance. The Message comes close, but the mere dustiness of Old English lends the words an ethereal aroma that seems like a whiff of heaven.
John 14
1 Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me.
2 In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.
3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.
4 And whither I go ye know, and the way ye know.
5 Thomas saith unto him, Lord, we know not whither thou goest; and how can we know the way?
6 Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.
7 If ye had known me, ye should have known my Father also: and from henceforth ye know him, and have seen him.
8 Philip saith unto him, Lord, show us the Father, and it sufficeth us.
9 Jesus saith unto him, Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not known me, Philip? he that hath seen me hath seen the Father; and how sayest thou then, Show us the Father?
10 Believest thou not that I am in the Father, and the Father in me? the words that I speak unto you I speak not of myself: but the Father that dwelleth in me, he doeth the works.
11 Believe me that I am in the Father, and the Father in me: or else believe me for the very works' sake.
12 Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on me, the works that I do shall he do also; and greater works than these shall he do; because I go unto my Father.
13 And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son.
14 If ye shall ask any thing in my name, I will do it.
15 If ye love me, keep my commandments.
16 And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever;
17 Even the Spirit of truth; whom the world cannot receive, because it seeth him not, neither knoweth him: but ye know him; for he dwelleth with you, and shall be in you.
18 I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you.
19 Yet a little while, and the world seeth me no more; but ye see me: because I live, ye shall live also.
20 At that day ye shall know that I am in my Father, and ye in me, and I in you.
21 He that hath my commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me: and he that loveth me shall be loved of my Father, and I will love him, and will manifest myself to him.
22 Judas saith unto him, not Iscariot, Lord, how is it that thou wilt manifest thyself unto us, and not unto the world?
23 Jesus answered and said unto him, If a man love me, he will keep my words: and my Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him.
24 He that loveth me not keepeth not my sayings: and the word which ye hear is not mine, but the Father's which sent me.
25 These things have I spoken unto you, being yet present with you.
26 But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you.
27 Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.
28 Ye have heard how I said unto you, I go away, and come again unto you. If ye loved me, ye would rejoice, because I said, I go unto the Father: for my Father is greater than I.
29 And now I have told you before it come to pass, that, when it is come to pass, ye might believe.
30 Hereafter I will not talk much with you: for the prince of this world cometh, and hath nothing in me.
31 But that the world may know that I love the Father; and as the Father gave me commandment, even so I do. Arise, let us go hence.
11.14.2009
Good Tidings and Great Joy
Lots of things learned over the past few weeks..
Little sisters are good for putting ideas in my head.
One hug can give a whole lotta happiness.
Getting it written is more important (right now) than getting it right, regarding NaNoWriMo.
Things like that. It's been a good month, a really good month. It's had plenty of its share of disappointment and sadness, but it's been a good month...maybe because of all that.
AND. AND--Christmas is in a few months!! AND! I might be going to New York City soon!!
Ah, life is good, even though it's often bad. What a paradox.
Little sisters are good for putting ideas in my head.
One hug can give a whole lotta happiness.
Getting it written is more important (right now) than getting it right, regarding NaNoWriMo.
Things like that. It's been a good month, a really good month. It's had plenty of its share of disappointment and sadness, but it's been a good month...maybe because of all that.
AND. AND--Christmas is in a few months!! AND! I might be going to New York City soon!!
Ah, life is good, even though it's often bad. What a paradox.
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