there's the pressure
of forcing oneself to write
wondering
is it like forcing oneself to love?
out of obligation?
or is it committing oneself to do the work of love?
to plant and water and till
uproot and unweed
expose to light
maybe force is the wrong word to use
maybe i commit myself to write
to trying despite the fear of failing
to return again and again
to old promises made
to God, with page and pen
8.11.09
4.11.09
it's overwhelming
passion.
it's the burning inside my chest. it's the fire that i can't ignore any longer.
it's the feeling i get when i am completely free. it's the longing to create. it's the inspiration that comes with the longing.
it's that feeling of knowing i'm right where i am supposed to be. for once.
it's the sunshine that kisses my face in the morning. for is not a kiss the very autograph of love? i think it is.
my passions are fused with love. Love that does not come from me alone. this is other-wordly love.
love that comes from the Father.
it overwhelms me entirely.
and even though it's hazy and dark,
even though fear and doubt are closing in on all sides,
and even though i'm confused and the puzzle pieces don't quite fit yet...
i feel a pull that i cannot shake off.
so, i let it take over.
and as the burning feeling grows stronger, my dreams are made clearer.
it's the burning inside my chest. it's the fire that i can't ignore any longer.
it's the feeling i get when i am completely free. it's the longing to create. it's the inspiration that comes with the longing.
it's that feeling of knowing i'm right where i am supposed to be. for once.
it's the sunshine that kisses my face in the morning. for is not a kiss the very autograph of love? i think it is.
my passions are fused with love. Love that does not come from me alone. this is other-wordly love.
love that comes from the Father.
it overwhelms me entirely.
and even though it's hazy and dark,
even though fear and doubt are closing in on all sides,
and even though i'm confused and the puzzle pieces don't quite fit yet...
i feel a pull that i cannot shake off.
so, i let it take over.
and as the burning feeling grows stronger, my dreams are made clearer.
3.11.09
growing pains
today i just realized how much growing up sucks.
it's cool to gain experience and mature and get taller and, for guys, potentially grow beards
but, i don't want to lose this. Thinking about the future and how it's going to be scares the living daylights out of me. I don't want to become numb or boring. I don't want to become uptight or less daring. Things seem so complicated when you're older. and they just keep getting more complicated. and the more i think about it the more i dread it.
things are simple. things were simpler.
cut out of school early just to get a sandwich
not do my final in my ecology class and still come out with a B+
mxpx
starting a band even though none of us knew how to play an instrument
play dodgeball every tuesday and thursday
bottle rocket wars
swinging over the creek on an old rope (that broke)
mad max (the mountain lion)
the milkhouse
DECA
varsity swimming
playing around the world with my dad
watching all my guy friends turn into skaters
playing video games for 13 hours
milkhouse new year's eve techno
tanning all day without the thought of contracting melanoma
turner falls camp
swinging on swings with my sister and talking about life
eating entire boxes of push pops
techno showers
pretending to be british in public places
Siege, America (only daryl would know about this one)
eating all the snow cones in the snow cone stand on NW EXPY
bonfires
scoots and bikes
braums and walgreens with kyndall
rooster booster and laffy taffy at 3 am
our trampoline
driveway parties
becoming friends with the campus police-men
making movies
exploring
inflatable slides
worship team "fun"
trips of any kind
movie nights (always at Jordans house or my house)
our "special" pizza
completely covering a wall in the cafeteria with posters
ghost hunting
going to Conservatory shows way past my curfew
walking the railroad tracks when we could have driven
dumpster diving
Art walk in the Paseo
house wars against Chris and PJ
road trips of any kind
music with my best friends
paint crew
begging my parents for a nose piercing and failing
china house
Sauced pizza and tea
climbing on roofs
I'm afraid i'm going to forget the things i truly don't want to forget so that i can move forward in life and get to what i think the good part is. I don't want to be in such a rush that the best part flies right by me.
i don't want my life to become complacent and routine.
i don't want to give up the adventure.
there are still so many things left to do.
i need to slow down and enjoy this gift of life.
and live every day to it's fullest.
it's cool to gain experience and mature and get taller and, for guys, potentially grow beards
but, i don't want to lose this. Thinking about the future and how it's going to be scares the living daylights out of me. I don't want to become numb or boring. I don't want to become uptight or less daring. Things seem so complicated when you're older. and they just keep getting more complicated. and the more i think about it the more i dread it.
things are simple. things were simpler.
cut out of school early just to get a sandwich
not do my final in my ecology class and still come out with a B+
mxpx
starting a band even though none of us knew how to play an instrument
play dodgeball every tuesday and thursday
bottle rocket wars
swinging over the creek on an old rope (that broke)
mad max (the mountain lion)
the milkhouse
DECA
varsity swimming
playing around the world with my dad
watching all my guy friends turn into skaters
playing video games for 13 hours
milkhouse new year's eve techno
tanning all day without the thought of contracting melanoma
turner falls camp
swinging on swings with my sister and talking about life
eating entire boxes of push pops
techno showers
pretending to be british in public places
Siege, America (only daryl would know about this one)
eating all the snow cones in the snow cone stand on NW EXPY
bonfires
scoots and bikes
braums and walgreens with kyndall
rooster booster and laffy taffy at 3 am
our trampoline
driveway parties
becoming friends with the campus police-men
making movies
exploring
inflatable slides
worship team "fun"
trips of any kind
movie nights (always at Jordans house or my house)
our "special" pizza
completely covering a wall in the cafeteria with posters
ghost hunting
going to Conservatory shows way past my curfew
walking the railroad tracks when we could have driven
dumpster diving
Art walk in the Paseo
house wars against Chris and PJ
road trips of any kind
music with my best friends
paint crew
begging my parents for a nose piercing and failing
china house
Sauced pizza and tea
climbing on roofs
I'm afraid i'm going to forget the things i truly don't want to forget so that i can move forward in life and get to what i think the good part is. I don't want to be in such a rush that the best part flies right by me.
i don't want my life to become complacent and routine.
i don't want to give up the adventure.
there are still so many things left to do.
i need to slow down and enjoy this gift of life.
and live every day to it's fullest.
27.10.09
shades
today is monday. like your average monday, only things began going wrong instantly.
and things are supposed to kind of foul up on mondays. for instance, getting dressed really fast in the dark because you overslept and then finding out midday that you are wearing navy blue tights by accident and not black, like you meant to.
fair crisis. not going to shake anybody's world up too much unless for some bizarro reason the whole foods store is giving out grocery samples to everyone on the basis that their outfit is matching.
then perhaps navy blue tights and black flats would be a real deal breaker.
i'm all about grocery store samples. apart from the time and energy of it. for some reason i feel it necessary to spend at least 18 seconds making noises that represent my delight with the sample. mmmmmm. guuuuuuud. oooohhh yeah. *this part is real stretched out and dramatic* and then another 14 seconds verbally debating a purchase of the product: "only $12 for this organic goat cheese! what a steal. but i shouldn't when i have a whole stash (box) of cheese (velveeta) at home. so tempting though--next time."
when all i'm really thinking the whole time is, what a waste of toothpicks when i could have used my hands. and i wish the samples weren't so small. and maybe they wouldn't notice if i came back around a second time.
of course they would notice, i'm wearing navy blue tights and black flats--i'm practically a circus.
today was monday. and besides all that nonsense about my outfit being off, i get called down to the office. Kind of like in junior high school.
and i honestly haven't thought about junior high school more than five times since i left it. not that it was bad, only it wasn't really anything. just a bunch of mulling around the hallways not thinking. no one told you how to think at that point in your life. just how to work a locker combination in nothing flat and how to apply blue shimmer eyeshadow beyond reason. some girls had moms who wouldn't let them wear eyeshadow and so maybe they inched by with some reasoning skills. one can never know.
and as i was sitting in the office (thinking about all the nonthought of my adolescence) i decided to pass the time with a book--catcher in the rye. most people are assigned this in ninth grade english class but for some reason we read scarlet letter probably because it had less cussing.
anyway its my second jd salinger in a row.
i get on kicks.
and after all that reading up, you sorta get nosy about the author and want to find out why they're so brilliant. like if they grew up eating wheaties while the rest of us amateurs unconsciously dabbled in bowls of fruity pebbles--mere child's play.
its purely speculation whether or not he was a breakfast champion, but my wiki-research did conclude that mr. salinger was just about the same as other creatives. meaning he was kind of reclusive and aloof when it all came down to it. same thing i recently found out about charles schulz, the peanuts guy, and about a million other artists and poets.
and sure, you sort of excuse that behavior when a person dreams up a character like charlie brown or writes a book that most people are assigned in ninth grade english class.
but what about the behavior of the rest of us? what about our navy blue tights? and our blue shimmer eye shadow? and our sugar cereal? and why can't we be weird too?
and things are supposed to kind of foul up on mondays. for instance, getting dressed really fast in the dark because you overslept and then finding out midday that you are wearing navy blue tights by accident and not black, like you meant to.
fair crisis. not going to shake anybody's world up too much unless for some bizarro reason the whole foods store is giving out grocery samples to everyone on the basis that their outfit is matching.
then perhaps navy blue tights and black flats would be a real deal breaker.
i'm all about grocery store samples. apart from the time and energy of it. for some reason i feel it necessary to spend at least 18 seconds making noises that represent my delight with the sample. mmmmmm. guuuuuuud. oooohhh yeah. *this part is real stretched out and dramatic* and then another 14 seconds verbally debating a purchase of the product: "only $12 for this organic goat cheese! what a steal. but i shouldn't when i have a whole stash (box) of cheese (velveeta) at home. so tempting though--next time."
when all i'm really thinking the whole time is, what a waste of toothpicks when i could have used my hands. and i wish the samples weren't so small. and maybe they wouldn't notice if i came back around a second time.
of course they would notice, i'm wearing navy blue tights and black flats--i'm practically a circus.
today was monday. and besides all that nonsense about my outfit being off, i get called down to the office. Kind of like in junior high school.
and i honestly haven't thought about junior high school more than five times since i left it. not that it was bad, only it wasn't really anything. just a bunch of mulling around the hallways not thinking. no one told you how to think at that point in your life. just how to work a locker combination in nothing flat and how to apply blue shimmer eyeshadow beyond reason. some girls had moms who wouldn't let them wear eyeshadow and so maybe they inched by with some reasoning skills. one can never know.
and as i was sitting in the office (thinking about all the nonthought of my adolescence) i decided to pass the time with a book--catcher in the rye. most people are assigned this in ninth grade english class but for some reason we read scarlet letter probably because it had less cussing.
anyway its my second jd salinger in a row.
i get on kicks.
and after all that reading up, you sorta get nosy about the author and want to find out why they're so brilliant. like if they grew up eating wheaties while the rest of us amateurs unconsciously dabbled in bowls of fruity pebbles--mere child's play.
its purely speculation whether or not he was a breakfast champion, but my wiki-research did conclude that mr. salinger was just about the same as other creatives. meaning he was kind of reclusive and aloof when it all came down to it. same thing i recently found out about charles schulz, the peanuts guy, and about a million other artists and poets.
and sure, you sort of excuse that behavior when a person dreams up a character like charlie brown or writes a book that most people are assigned in ninth grade english class.
but what about the behavior of the rest of us? what about our navy blue tights? and our blue shimmer eye shadow? and our sugar cereal? and why can't we be weird too?
21.10.09
tweets
you might have noticed the recent onslaught of short blogs as of late.
i blame it on twitter.
its natural to blame things on twitter, because everything is twitter's fault.
my ever shortening attention span?
140 chrcters r less iz all u g0t w/ m3 so btter mak it gud.
My recent desire to gravitate towards a warmer climate?
just doing the birdie thing and flying south for the winter.
the swine flu outbreak?
i mean, last year it was the bird flu. but now the birds are busy with other things. mainly, delivering our messages kind of like the united states post office except on time.
and for that matter, the world's financial crisis?
twitter. we're the over-capacity page where the little birds (us) try to lift the whale (wall street) and take him back to his whale family (rich people we don't know). . . twitter is all subliminally ruining our lives.
plus this little thing called the human condition. where we all want to be known and followed and famously adored. where we feel the need to perpetute the late breaking, the relevant, the fashionable, the ironic, the linked, the inked and the epic.
in order that we might secure a spot in the nest.
no one wanted that before internet came into existence.
so, ummmmm, down with twitter.
except will you follow me first? :)
i blame it on twitter.
its natural to blame things on twitter, because everything is twitter's fault.
my ever shortening attention span?
140 chrcters r less iz all u g0t w/ m3 so btter mak it gud.
My recent desire to gravitate towards a warmer climate?
just doing the birdie thing and flying south for the winter.
the swine flu outbreak?
i mean, last year it was the bird flu. but now the birds are busy with other things. mainly, delivering our messages kind of like the united states post office except on time.
and for that matter, the world's financial crisis?
twitter. we're the over-capacity page where the little birds (us) try to lift the whale (wall street) and take him back to his whale family (rich people we don't know). . . twitter is all subliminally ruining our lives.
plus this little thing called the human condition. where we all want to be known and followed and famously adored. where we feel the need to perpetute the late breaking, the relevant, the fashionable, the ironic, the linked, the inked and the epic.
in order that we might secure a spot in the nest.
no one wanted that before internet came into existence.
so, ummmmm, down with twitter.
except will you follow me first? :)
19.10.09
the other days too
today is a coffee shop off Londonberry Road, in a cold cold state up north
today is fighting back tears that form for no good reason, and for every good reason
today is my pulpit Bible on the table beside me, and begging for the mytho-poetic i encountered when i was a child
today is not newspapers or reporters or radios; today is only news that unfolds within 30 feet of me
today is orange juice and proof that the world is getting smaller; oranges in cold cold state up north! seems hardly sustainable, this luxury world
today is permission to be shy, granted by me
today is the Church's confession; we are wrong, we are wrong, we are wrong, we are loved (?)
today is a bunch of nerve firings and amino acids and frantic oxygen molecules, which will make it possible for me to be human; and thus responsible to be humane
today these locks will grow just a quarter of a centimeter; today is endorsing all of my most dreadful nervous habits--how bloody unbecoming to go around smelling my own hair!
today is turning a corner and believing something is around it; prophets and poets call this hope
today is shuffling along the same God-damned redemptive road; prophets and poets call this endurance
today is wanting to get on a plane which will take me home to a slightly less cold state somewhere in the middle . . .
where my community has already gathered. in an old sanctuary. releasing new stories. about what God is up to. through mike crawford hymns and nervous guest speakers and rowdy benedictions and meet n' greets and sunday brunch--make it orange juices all around!
only i'm not there, because i'm in a cold cold state up north
and it all seems to be foreshadowing a time when i'm not there any more
to this end, today is intensely nostalgic, emphatically unsure,
yet somehow still good.
today is fighting back tears that form for no good reason, and for every good reason
today is my pulpit Bible on the table beside me, and begging for the mytho-poetic i encountered when i was a child
today is not newspapers or reporters or radios; today is only news that unfolds within 30 feet of me
today is orange juice and proof that the world is getting smaller; oranges in cold cold state up north! seems hardly sustainable, this luxury world
today is permission to be shy, granted by me
today is the Church's confession; we are wrong, we are wrong, we are wrong, we are loved (?)
today is a bunch of nerve firings and amino acids and frantic oxygen molecules, which will make it possible for me to be human; and thus responsible to be humane
today these locks will grow just a quarter of a centimeter; today is endorsing all of my most dreadful nervous habits--how bloody unbecoming to go around smelling my own hair!
today is turning a corner and believing something is around it; prophets and poets call this hope
today is shuffling along the same God-damned redemptive road; prophets and poets call this endurance
today is wanting to get on a plane which will take me home to a slightly less cold state somewhere in the middle . . .
where my community has already gathered. in an old sanctuary. releasing new stories. about what God is up to. through mike crawford hymns and nervous guest speakers and rowdy benedictions and meet n' greets and sunday brunch--make it orange juices all around!
only i'm not there, because i'm in a cold cold state up north
and it all seems to be foreshadowing a time when i'm not there any more
to this end, today is intensely nostalgic, emphatically unsure,
yet somehow still good.
15.10.09
pardon my vanity
but if i want to pour myself a cup of instant self-deprecation, i need to look no further than the satorialist blogspot.
which i do. almost daily.
i wonder if this is how kmart feels when she looks at saks fifth avenue...
in my defense, some of my cardigans don't have holes in them.
which i do. almost daily.
i wonder if this is how kmart feels when she looks at saks fifth avenue...
in my defense, some of my cardigans don't have holes in them.
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