23. Today it snows, and snows, and is very very cold. But I am older now, and with age comes not-complaining about the cold.
22. Last night, a snoring cat curled up by my feet as I slept next to a Christmas tree. Before this, a friend and I talked about the difficulty applying to grad school, and the possibilities of getting into creative writing programs.
21. My professor liked my use of monasticism to correct the sins in Paradise Lost. I wanted that grade, and was so excited when he said my essay was "witty."
20. Much as I dislike getting up early, I enjoy being up, especially for a scrumptious breakfast prepared by someone else.
19. I hate packing. I really do. But I already knew this...
18. I like tea, and catching up with old friends, and movies with people who are slightly crazy.
17. Snow. Just enough to cover everything with white frosting. It's beautiful, and excuses the cold and wind.
16. Finals are far from my favorite things, but the relief upon their completion is nice.
15. Studying? Pshaw. I can't seem to plan essays beforehand, which is perhaps a bad thing.
14. When my voice drops an octave, I can scare people, and it's rather amusing. Next time, I should prank call a friend... Of course, when my voice leaves after dropping, it's no longer funny.
13. I wonder how someone who has gone through all the trouble of researching Elizabeth Barrett Browning's relationship with her father could fail to remember whether she was American or English.
12. How often are girls greeted by "It's [insert name here]! She likes knives!"? Especially by people who are gathering to pray? Disconcerting, to say the least...
11. It's nice to have long phone conversations with friends not seen in months. Especially when they are friends with whom one can be goofy and schemish, next to whom you (meaning I) appear sensible and thoroughly practical.
10. I miss my family, but somehow manage to forget this when I'm busy with school. Then I talk to them, and remember how wonderful they are, and am properly excited to be seeing them soon.
9. Classes ending is both sad and exhilarating. I shall miss my classes, but am glad that the semester has ended. It will be good to have more wonderful things to learn next semester.
8. Two crazy weeks between Thanksgiving Break and the last class of 2008. Strange world, which keeps pulling past more and more quickly.
7. Despite multiple delays and confusions, I managed to arrive safely in Boston at a not-too-late hour.
6. Is it too strange that I enjoyed my time at the firing range so much? I honestly would hate firing those guns at a person, but target practice is so much fun!
5. I miss my brother. It seems as we get older, our relationship gets better. No longer do we play with cars together, but we can talk about real things, and have some in common.
4. Food! It's so good to have homecooked meals that I didn't scrounge together. And, of course, perfect medium-rare steaks.
3. Why my grandparents continue setting me loose in a used-books store is beyond me. They know how much I am capable of finding, yet never tell me to put anything back. They tease me, then pay for it. It really is the best pre-Birthday/Christmas present they could give.
2. Ah, music. Funny how much it alters one's mood. And how much one's mood determines what one wants to hear. Much as I love Classical music, it's nice to listen to other music too.
1. School, church, people, snow, books, people... Life is good, for some reason!
Friday, December 19, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
gluten and apples
Another month has flurried by, the semester has passed its half-way point, and registration for my final semester of undergraduate experience looms next week. Once again, I have conflicts between the things I most want to take, so fencing shall wait until who knows when, I shall be obliged to study art history, and who knows what shape the rest will present. I am glad, yet horrified, that the semester is approaching its end. It feels like it has gone too quickly, more quickly than last year, yet it also feels like forever. In a good way. I am being challenged in ways I have not before, and am attempting to eat carefully, and feel a touch of overwhelmedness most days, yet am generally happier and less despondent than I have been in the past. I'm still struggling to release my weary body from the grips of a nasty cold, and am spending far more money than I wish I were on food (special diet = special prices), am constantly behind or nearly behind on work, and have not truly begun the application process for graduate school. Yet. There is always a yet. I am processing more, in less time, and with less difficulty, than I was last year. I sleep better, think better, read better, feel better, and am generally more level emotionally than I was previously. Even without a solid diagnosis, I'm thinking this no-gluten thing is good for me.
That, and finding a church, and midweek fellowship, worship, and prayer, and the cheerfulness of my apartment-mates, and the sheer joy of being intellectually challenged... At this rate, in this direction, I will have much to give praise for come Thanksgiving.
I wrote a poem the other day. It began about fall, and ended about the fall. Leaves, to apples. Liminality, inspired by a book from one of my classes. But the conclusion? Not entirely sure how that came about, but this I will say: my Muse does like to surprise me. And gives good surprises.
That, and finding a church, and midweek fellowship, worship, and prayer, and the cheerfulness of my apartment-mates, and the sheer joy of being intellectually challenged... At this rate, in this direction, I will have much to give praise for come Thanksgiving.
I wrote a poem the other day. It began about fall, and ended about the fall. Leaves, to apples. Liminality, inspired by a book from one of my classes. But the conclusion? Not entirely sure how that came about, but this I will say: my Muse does like to surprise me. And gives good surprises.
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Concerning Poetry
I would like to hear James Joyce and Aristotle discuss their views of aesthetics, beauty, art, and poetry. Reading their A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (ch.V, esp.) and Poetics lead me to believe that would be one interesting discussion. Not only do they have different opinions; they have very different ways of going about getting to those opinions. I wish they weren't both dead! Oh, and, pretending this dialogue were possible, let's add T.S. Eliot and Wordsworth to the mix. Just imagine the fireworks!
And I would facilitate, take copious notes, then, after they all returned to the underworld, formulate all their theories into one universal theory - the M theory of poetics.
O, to hear poets
argue as if defining
their art could be done.
To listen to men
of great intelligence claim
the others were fools.
And to laugh under
my breath, since I know something
they haven't learned yet.
And I would facilitate, take copious notes, then, after they all returned to the underworld, formulate all their theories into one universal theory - the M theory of poetics.
O, to hear poets
argue as if defining
their art could be done.
To listen to men
of great intelligence claim
the others were fools.
And to laugh under
my breath, since I know something
they haven't learned yet.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
from my journal, 29 July, after visiting the Magnolia Cliffs
I wish to create, to write a poem, or something somehow worthwhile. I want to dive into a cool ocean, and walk along the bottom, staring up at the wave-play above my head, spreading my arms wide to feel as much water as I can, hair drifting with the current. I want to lay in the sun, alone on a wide rock, with nothing but sky, sea, hills and trees to see anywhere, and nothing but birds, squirrels, or bugs to keep me company. I want to run with the wind, so fast that the wind feels like still air, until my legs quiver and my lungs burn, and continue until I collapse on grass and stare at the clouds shifting through the sky. I want to fly through the air, swooping and calling like a white-winged bird, floating on thermal currents, diving and pulling up, climbing until my wings melt, and I fall to join Icarus in the cool wetness.
I perch, precarious, on the edge of the sea,
rocks behind and below,
blinding blue stretching before.
I stare, deep into the froth and turmoil
as two waves are entwined
one charging in, the other retreating.
The skin on my feet is not too cold
to feel the twists in the water
as it buries them, and the rock, hiding
the last shred of my connection to land.
And I am gone. The rocks are gone.
I shoot straight up, a rocket to a cloud,
a sudden explosion, a startled flock of birds,
a shimmering translucent body
twisting with sudden newfound joy and energy.
My bright wings burst forth - why have
they been hiding? - and the wind
rushes by, carrying me swiftly away
from the land, the ocean-covered rock,
from the unambiguous division
of earth and sea, body and spirit,
life and death. Further and further
my wings take me. And
even though my ghostlike, now useless feet,
seem to remember the passion of
sand in my toes, solid bedrock,
knowledge and human connections,
the movement of cool air around my skin,
the ecstasy of flight, of freedom,
is stronger, and my face remains towards the horizon.
I perch, precarious, on the edge of the sea,
rocks behind and below,
blinding blue stretching before.
I stare, deep into the froth and turmoil
as two waves are entwined
one charging in, the other retreating.
The skin on my feet is not too cold
to feel the twists in the water
as it buries them, and the rock, hiding
the last shred of my connection to land.
And I am gone. The rocks are gone.
I shoot straight up, a rocket to a cloud,
a sudden explosion, a startled flock of birds,
a shimmering translucent body
twisting with sudden newfound joy and energy.
My bright wings burst forth - why have
they been hiding? - and the wind
rushes by, carrying me swiftly away
from the land, the ocean-covered rock,
from the unambiguous division
of earth and sea, body and spirit,
life and death. Further and further
my wings take me. And
even though my ghostlike, now useless feet,
seem to remember the passion of
sand in my toes, solid bedrock,
knowledge and human connections,
the movement of cool air around my skin,
the ecstasy of flight, of freedom,
is stronger, and my face remains towards the horizon.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
cue: growl
That last couple days have been, in a word, wild. Thursday evening was volleyball at the park, which, after disturbance by lightning, hair standing on end, and burying people in the sand, turned into watching the Olympics at someone's house until rather late. Friday night was a gathering - aka party - at another person's house, to which I originally planned to go, but I got a phone call Thursday afternoon asking if I wanted to go to the Red Sox game. Of course! So Friday afternoon, my friend and I braved public transportation and the threat of grey skies to travel to Fenway, where we wandered, then sat for a couple hours, as the announcers announced several delays due to showers in the area. And yes, it rained, but we were just under the overhang and had bright yellow ponchos, and stayed relatively dry. But then, after all our patience, they postponed the game due to the threat of lightning. It will be made up on September 13th. So after all that, the game never started. We joined the moist throngs pushing back to the T, and made it to North Station just barely after a train left, and had to wait another hour, in North Station, for the next train. When we got back to Beverly, I realized we didn't have a key to the house, so we stopped by the party to pick up the key (after a disappointment like a non-game, who wants to party?), got a movie, and sat and stared at the screen for a couple hours before going to bed.
At least now I've been to Fenway. And at least, at this point, I have nothing scheduled for September 13th. Someday, I will go to a Red Sox game. But for now, it was a long afternoon and evening, and I want to read but my eyes want to shut, and I have barely one week left of vacation. Ack.
At least now I've been to Fenway. And at least, at this point, I have nothing scheduled for September 13th. Someday, I will go to a Red Sox game. But for now, it was a long afternoon and evening, and I want to read but my eyes want to shut, and I have barely one week left of vacation. Ack.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
nearing the end
In two weeks, classes begin once more. My last year of undergraduate study it will be. A strange thought, this. I think I'm ready, though. It will be good to have a regular schedule, and definite ways to fill my days.
Just Sunday we finished moving to a new place. My roommate signed a one-year lease, so she'll stay during the school year, but I get to move - again - back to campus - in just under two weeks. I'm trying to balance leaving things packed and having enough out to feel like I'm not in transition.
Despite the recent rain, and its tendency to lightning and pour right when we want to play volleyball, things have being going well. There is still much I would like to do before school, and I, true to form, can think of many things I wish were different, but I have no reason to complain. In fact, certain aspects of life have been better than expected, and improving.
I'm going to go get some intentional alone time, something I haven't had enough of recently, and something I'm realizing is needed and healthy.
Just Sunday we finished moving to a new place. My roommate signed a one-year lease, so she'll stay during the school year, but I get to move - again - back to campus - in just under two weeks. I'm trying to balance leaving things packed and having enough out to feel like I'm not in transition.
Despite the recent rain, and its tendency to lightning and pour right when we want to play volleyball, things have being going well. There is still much I would like to do before school, and I, true to form, can think of many things I wish were different, but I have no reason to complain. In fact, certain aspects of life have been better than expected, and improving.
I'm going to go get some intentional alone time, something I haven't had enough of recently, and something I'm realizing is needed and healthy.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
... and check
I sit near a buzzing EXIT sign, on a public computer, tired, full, and relatively pleased. Life is going well. I just started a second job yesterday, so I will no longer have as much empty time to fill. Not only that, it's tutoring in language arts - grammar, punctuation, the writing process, and the like - right up my alley.
I also found a church, and while the meeting new people and getting comfortable around them takes time, it's not as difficult as usual, and I'm fully convinced, in this case, it is worthwhile.
And I've gotten to see people I wanted to see, and have been reading as cheerfully as a bird after a rain shower (a bit of a stretch, that metaphor, but it contains the essence), including some George MacDonald sermons, which I unexpectedly love. I never thought I'd read sermons for fun, but when a poet and novelist of the fantastic mythic sort writes sermons, they are beautiful and passionate and real.
I do, of course, miss people from home, family and friends, and wish I could go to weddings that I cannot, alas, attend. And no A/C in this heat means a muggy oveny house. But when it thunders, ah! that is the life. Not to mention the green everywhere. Green trees, grass, waterlilies, other flowers, bushes, everything, even algae. Better than dull tan and brown.
Summary: life is going well, I think, so long as I don't stop too long and debate with myself the perennial questions of where am I? why am I here? and where am I going? and why? So as long as I do not concern myself with the future, or even question too deeply the present, as long as I walk in simple obedience and faith, I can smile with pleasure and a complete absence of guilt.
(Not to mention a recent wonderful dinner with two desserts, both equally scrumptious: mixed berry cobbler and peach crisp.)
I also found a church, and while the meeting new people and getting comfortable around them takes time, it's not as difficult as usual, and I'm fully convinced, in this case, it is worthwhile.
And I've gotten to see people I wanted to see, and have been reading as cheerfully as a bird after a rain shower (a bit of a stretch, that metaphor, but it contains the essence), including some George MacDonald sermons, which I unexpectedly love. I never thought I'd read sermons for fun, but when a poet and novelist of the fantastic mythic sort writes sermons, they are beautiful and passionate and real.
I do, of course, miss people from home, family and friends, and wish I could go to weddings that I cannot, alas, attend. And no A/C in this heat means a muggy oveny house. But when it thunders, ah! that is the life. Not to mention the green everywhere. Green trees, grass, waterlilies, other flowers, bushes, everything, even algae. Better than dull tan and brown.
Summary: life is going well, I think, so long as I don't stop too long and debate with myself the perennial questions of where am I? why am I here? and where am I going? and why? So as long as I do not concern myself with the future, or even question too deeply the present, as long as I walk in simple obedience and faith, I can smile with pleasure and a complete absence of guilt.
(Not to mention a recent wonderful dinner with two desserts, both equally scrumptious: mixed berry cobbler and peach crisp.)
Sunday, June 29, 2008
returned again
I've been back on the East Coast nearly two weeks now.
I have one part-time job. The weather confuses me. Not having constant internet is harder to deal with than I expected. I can walk to a library, so I've been reading quite a bit.
It feels like I've been here longer than two weeks. I miss people from back home, and people from the school year, and people in general, I think. We (Karli & I) live a fairly isolated existence, what with one car leaving me on foot most of the time. I need a bike or rollerblades so I can make it to campus. I also want to find a chess set; perhaps I'll play myself. And I must begin researching grad schools, and the GRE, and I should find another job. So much to find, so few resources within easy reach.
Ar.
I have one part-time job. The weather confuses me. Not having constant internet is harder to deal with than I expected. I can walk to a library, so I've been reading quite a bit.
It feels like I've been here longer than two weeks. I miss people from back home, and people from the school year, and people in general, I think. We (Karli & I) live a fairly isolated existence, what with one car leaving me on foot most of the time. I need a bike or rollerblades so I can make it to campus. I also want to find a chess set; perhaps I'll play myself. And I must begin researching grad schools, and the GRE, and I should find another job. So much to find, so few resources within easy reach.
Ar.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
So expensive! and So good!
I bought gasoline, regular unleaded, on Sunday. It cost $4.34 per gallon! I think that's the most I've ever paid. And people at school complain when it reaches $3.50...
I just watched Prince Caspian in the theatre. I enjoyed it very much. No, it's not exactly like the book, but as a movie, it was good, coherent, enjoyable. It had a feel of completeness, a consistency of atmosphere. They didn't need the kiss, though. A look should have sufficed. But, on the whole, I believe I liked it better the The Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe. Odd. I'll have to see it again to be sure. But I truly did enjoy it. Especially Edmund, Lucy, and Trumpkin.
The funny thing is I saw Death at a Funeral last night, a British ridiculous dark-ish comedy, and the actor who played Trumpkin was in it in a VERY different role. He does impressive things with his eyes and eyebrows.
There is nothing quite like driving the canyon between Hiouchi and Gasquet in the fading light, with a wall of rock to one side, and empty space dropping to a blue, blue river, with sharply rising trees beyond. Absolutely stunningly beautiful. It even feels, for a moment, as if you're flying.
I just watched Prince Caspian in the theatre. I enjoyed it very much. No, it's not exactly like the book, but as a movie, it was good, coherent, enjoyable. It had a feel of completeness, a consistency of atmosphere. They didn't need the kiss, though. A look should have sufficed. But, on the whole, I believe I liked it better the The Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe. Odd. I'll have to see it again to be sure. But I truly did enjoy it. Especially Edmund, Lucy, and Trumpkin.
The funny thing is I saw Death at a Funeral last night, a British ridiculous dark-ish comedy, and the actor who played Trumpkin was in it in a VERY different role. He does impressive things with his eyes and eyebrows.
There is nothing quite like driving the canyon between Hiouchi and Gasquet in the fading light, with a wall of rock to one side, and empty space dropping to a blue, blue river, with sharply rising trees beyond. Absolutely stunningly beautiful. It even feels, for a moment, as if you're flying.
Monday, May 19, 2008
CCC
Crescent City, California.
After a wonderful whirlwind weekend, very little sleep, not enough food, and a long layover in San Francisco, my plane touched down on earth, but my head remained in the atmosphere somewhere.
I am home, for a month, before going back out East. It should be good, beautiful, fun, active.
My semester was very good. Shall the summer follow suit? I think so.
After a wonderful whirlwind weekend, very little sleep, not enough food, and a long layover in San Francisco, my plane touched down on earth, but my head remained in the atmosphere somewhere.
I am home, for a month, before going back out East. It should be good, beautiful, fun, active.
My semester was very good. Shall the summer follow suit? I think so.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Thursday, May 08, 2008
My Day in Haiku
blossoms smell like fish:
faint alone, but together
the sea comes to land.
drizzle turns to haze
which burns and fades into blue
humid spring sunshine.
new leaves patterning
green across blue; downy gold
goslings ignore us.
red-stained watered eyes
uncertainty if death comes
or life stays tonight.
what may one say or
do? the pain remains inside
whether shared or not.
O God, my God, why?
Hast thou forsaken others?
I care not of me.
fires blaze as they go
words smash through frosted windows:
the shadow of death.
faint alone, but together
the sea comes to land.
drizzle turns to haze
which burns and fades into blue
humid spring sunshine.
new leaves patterning
green across blue; downy gold
goslings ignore us.
red-stained watered eyes
uncertainty if death comes
or life stays tonight.
what may one say or
do? the pain remains inside
whether shared or not.
O God, my God, why?
Hast thou forsaken others?
I care not of me.
fires blaze as they go
words smash through frosted windows:
the shadow of death.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Leadership
Went to a leadership retreat/conference this weekend. I enjoyed it more than I expected, and was greatly encouraged in many ways. One of which is this: a great deal of what the speakers were saying about leadership makes perfect sense to me. Some things I've thought of before; some I've just never put into words. But most things are intuitive to me; if I were to lead, that's how I'd do it. Does this make me a natural leader? Because I don't like that idea. But I do know that if I led, it would be in those ways that all the speakers said were good. And I would instinctively avoid those methods and characteristics that they said were bad.
I like to think that I'm not crazy, that my reactions to leading styles are reasonable, and this weekend was so nice in that it confirmed that I am indeed not crazy. And of course, I met people! That's always a plus for me.
And I played fuseball. Mwahaha!
I like to think that I'm not crazy, that my reactions to leading styles are reasonable, and this weekend was so nice in that it confirmed that I am indeed not crazy. And of course, I met people! That's always a plus for me.
And I played fuseball. Mwahaha!
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Thursday, April 10, 2008
...and smile!
Wednesday was good. Extremely happy news, and encouraging conversation, and a good show. And my homework didn't take as long as I expected.
Then, today, the temperature climbed to nearly 70 degrees. It was beautiful. I wore sandals. The sun felt good.
I won't sleep much tonight, and I'll be frantically finishing my journal right before class, but who cares? I know where I'm living next year, and what classes I'm taking, and even though my summer is still the great unknown, the known's happiness factor far outweighs the summer's uncertainty factor to equal... SMILE.
Then, today, the temperature climbed to nearly 70 degrees. It was beautiful. I wore sandals. The sun felt good.
I won't sleep much tonight, and I'll be frantically finishing my journal right before class, but who cares? I know where I'm living next year, and what classes I'm taking, and even though my summer is still the great unknown, the known's happiness factor far outweighs the summer's uncertainty factor to equal... SMILE.
Saturday, April 05, 2008
This poem is actually from March 2. I'm not sure exactly where it came from...
If ever I lose your name
somewhere in the coils of my mind,
If ever your face fades
to blurs of color in my eyes,
If ever my ears forget
the sounds and songs of your voice,
And is becomes as if
I had never met you,
My poems will cease to write
their words upon the page,
My dreams will collapse into
confusion every time I sleep,
My music will stumble as
my fingers displace their skill,
And my heart will beat -
if still it can -
with anguish and slow rhythmic decay.
somewhere in the coils of my mind,
If ever your face fades
to blurs of color in my eyes,
If ever my ears forget
the sounds and songs of your voice,
And is becomes as if
I had never met you,
My poems will cease to write
their words upon the page,
My dreams will collapse into
confusion every time I sleep,
My music will stumble as
my fingers displace their skill,
And my heart will beat -
if still it can -
with anguish and slow rhythmic decay.
Breathing Life
Oy. It's April already. The air smells thoroughly of Spring, the birds sing loud and joyful, the crocuses defy the remaining chill in the air to open their hearts to the still-strained sunlight. I saw a baby beaver today. I touched some trees. I heard the water lap, and I breathed life. There is something to be said for a cold and white winter: the change into Spring is better appreciated.
School, of course, goes. I'm registered for classes for the fall, although they might (i.e., hopefully) change. I need to figure out next year's living situation, which might prove tricky and will demand careful thought. This summer is still an unknown which daunts me. I need to listen to music more.
I watched The Count of Monte Cristo this evening; I liked it very much. They made it a happy ending, with a good moral, which is fine, just not what I expected. I need to re-read the book, because I remember so little.
I feel a little like a shadow, insubstantial and vague. Perhaps the piercing light of spring is driving through the mist and facades to reveal the truth lack of solidity. Perhaps something else. I don't know, and at the moment, I don't mind. Funny how a good dose of breathing clears everything up just enough to continue.
School, of course, goes. I'm registered for classes for the fall, although they might (i.e., hopefully) change. I need to figure out next year's living situation, which might prove tricky and will demand careful thought. This summer is still an unknown which daunts me. I need to listen to music more.
I watched The Count of Monte Cristo this evening; I liked it very much. They made it a happy ending, with a good moral, which is fine, just not what I expected. I need to re-read the book, because I remember so little.
I feel a little like a shadow, insubstantial and vague. Perhaps the piercing light of spring is driving through the mist and facades to reveal the truth lack of solidity. Perhaps something else. I don't know, and at the moment, I don't mind. Funny how a good dose of breathing clears everything up just enough to continue.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Back from break... better?
Last week was Spring/Easter break. Classes resume tomorrow (Tuesday). I spent the time at a couple friends' houses, reading, watching movies, sleeping, pacing, petting a cat... It was the classic "relaxing" sort of break, with not much to do or (supposedly) to think about.
But.
I wish it hadn't been so long. Or, rather, I just somehow feel unsatisfied. Not because I wanted more sleep, but less. Not because I wanted to sit around more, but less. I want to stand, to move, to wander, to stride, to DO. Holding still for so long, where every day felt almost exactly like the one before, drains me. I know, it shouldn't. It's supposed to refresh, refuel, prepare for the final stretch. But I feel more worn down than I did before. More tired. More bored. More confused. I think I'll have a little trouble readjusting to the routine, and have even more trouble coercing myself to care about my studies.
Perhaps a weekend bookin' it around NYC is a good idea...
But.
I wish it hadn't been so long. Or, rather, I just somehow feel unsatisfied. Not because I wanted more sleep, but less. Not because I wanted to sit around more, but less. I want to stand, to move, to wander, to stride, to DO. Holding still for so long, where every day felt almost exactly like the one before, drains me. I know, it shouldn't. It's supposed to refresh, refuel, prepare for the final stretch. But I feel more worn down than I did before. More tired. More bored. More confused. I think I'll have a little trouble readjusting to the routine, and have even more trouble coercing myself to care about my studies.
Perhaps a weekend bookin' it around NYC is a good idea...
Friday, March 14, 2008
heading out
I'm off. On spring/Easter break. For over a week. I'll be relaxing, reading, hopefully writing and walking outside... and all that typical break stuff. Not really anything planned.
The quad has ended well. I stayed up far too late studying for both my midterms, and didn't do nearly as well on one as I could have, and it's sad that there are only 7 weeks of school before my closest friends graduate and move on. But my super-highly-electric-internally twitching state has mellowed. I had a nearly three hour long conversation with my sister, and several good (and unexpected!) conversations with other people. Now most everyone's gone, and it's my turn to leave.
I'm not sure what I want from this break. I feel like it'll be a bad length; just long enough to feel too short, too short to be long enough. I need to spend time outdoors to keep myself awake and alert. So we'll see how it goes.
I like watching people's faces when I tell them what Dad did for a living!
The quad has ended well. I stayed up far too late studying for both my midterms, and didn't do nearly as well on one as I could have, and it's sad that there are only 7 weeks of school before my closest friends graduate and move on. But my super-highly-electric-internally twitching state has mellowed. I had a nearly three hour long conversation with my sister, and several good (and unexpected!) conversations with other people. Now most everyone's gone, and it's my turn to leave.
I'm not sure what I want from this break. I feel like it'll be a bad length; just long enough to feel too short, too short to be long enough. I need to spend time outdoors to keep myself awake and alert. So we'll see how it goes.
I like watching people's faces when I tell them what Dad did for a living!
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
better now
Funny how a few good games of fuseball make everything better...
And perhaps a sign of some inward oddness that playing fuseball cheers up a bad mood better than conversation or a book or music, or even a walk outside. Sometimes I worry myself. Other times I just enjoy winning those 3 out of 3 and I grin like the Cheshire Cat.
And perhaps a sign of some inward oddness that playing fuseball cheers up a bad mood better than conversation or a book or music, or even a walk outside. Sometimes I worry myself. Other times I just enjoy winning those 3 out of 3 and I grin like the Cheshire Cat.
Saturday, March 01, 2008
Finally and Snow
I finally watched Life is Beautiful yesterday. It has been on me list several years. I found it incredibly uplifting, beautiful, and bittersweet; definitely a well used two hours. Then I saw/heard a live performance of Faure's Requiem tonight. It's haunting. His music is carefully crafted, with every note necessary and beautiful. More well-spent time.
It snowed again last night, quietly. And I was out walking in it at 4am. No snowplow desecration had yet occurred, so the roads and paths were pure, blank, shining white. Our footprints behind us were the only ones. We walked over new ground. The cold and snow were expectant, listening, the wind impatient, whistling, our path beckoning, crunching.
I love being up when the sky fades from night to deep blue, minute by minute lightening as dawn approaches. I love the feel in the air that early in the morning; it's fresh, clean, waiting, pure, joyful, full of anticipation and hope.
When I grow up, I want to live where it snows.
It snowed again last night, quietly. And I was out walking in it at 4am. No snowplow desecration had yet occurred, so the roads and paths were pure, blank, shining white. Our footprints behind us were the only ones. We walked over new ground. The cold and snow were expectant, listening, the wind impatient, whistling, our path beckoning, crunching.
I love being up when the sky fades from night to deep blue, minute by minute lightening as dawn approaches. I love the feel in the air that early in the morning; it's fresh, clean, waiting, pure, joyful, full of anticipation and hope.
When I grow up, I want to live where it snows.
from February 24
Be still.
Silence your murmuring mind
Hush the whispering doubts of your heart.
Be still.
A rumbling heater warms the air noisily,
footsteps break through the night,
and a fly, alone, buzzes and bashes itself against the window.
Yet be still.
Your stomach gurgles angrily, begging sustinence,
and a draft whisks past your neck, drawing shivers,
and your mind, whirling, dashes from corner to edge without slowing.
Yet be still.
Be still.
Still.
Now. Here. Present. In. Not was, or will, but is. Are. Fully here.
Slow... Spiral in, pull thoughts down from the sky, up from the grave.
All to here. Now. Mortal meets Immortal.
In the stillness.
Be still.
And know -
Thinking again? Doesn't help the knowing. Stop the disjointed, broken thoughts.
Pause. Dwell on the Immortal.
And know -
Not of you, but of Other.
Given, not taken. Free, not charged. Hold still, I'm trying
to bless you, and you keep dodging me.
Please. Child. Beloved.
Listen. Stop talking, so I can speak.
Be still.
For me.
Silence your murmuring mind
Hush the whispering doubts of your heart.
Be still.
A rumbling heater warms the air noisily,
footsteps break through the night,
and a fly, alone, buzzes and bashes itself against the window.
Yet be still.
Your stomach gurgles angrily, begging sustinence,
and a draft whisks past your neck, drawing shivers,
and your mind, whirling, dashes from corner to edge without slowing.
Yet be still.
Be still.
Still.
Now. Here. Present. In. Not was, or will, but is. Are. Fully here.
Slow... Spiral in, pull thoughts down from the sky, up from the grave.
All to here. Now. Mortal meets Immortal.
In the stillness.
Be still.
And know -
Thinking again? Doesn't help the knowing. Stop the disjointed, broken thoughts.
Pause. Dwell on the Immortal.
And know -
Not of you, but of Other.
Given, not taken. Free, not charged. Hold still, I'm trying
to bless you, and you keep dodging me.
Please. Child. Beloved.
Listen. Stop talking, so I can speak.
Be still.
For me.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
V-day...
Thursday was Valentine's Day, aka my least favorite holiday. This year wasn't so bad. My apartment watched Beauty and the Beast, which I've been wanting to watch for over a month. So it was good. And I did work and went to classes, and went to a meeting at which we read Medea as a V-day treat. What better way to celebrate than to read of a crazy angry lady plotting to destroy her unfaithful husband? Then I watched a bug crawl across the ceiling. I turned off some of the lights, and it left the dark one, and slowly made its way to the lit one. Amusing.
So, besides feeling on the verge of nasty sickness, it was a good day. And, apart from continuing to feel almost very sick, I'm still doing ok. Wrote some poetry last night. It has been too long. And now I'm reading a book with one of the best titles ever: Dead Souls.
So, besides feeling on the verge of nasty sickness, it was a good day. And, apart from continuing to feel almost very sick, I'm still doing ok. Wrote some poetry last night. It has been too long. And now I'm reading a book with one of the best titles ever: Dead Souls.
A random poem from last night...
I watch the ice creeping
across my path,
and laugh at the wind's
taunting breath.
I am armored against
the cold,
cautious and ready
for the harshest blast.
Odd glances darting past me
as I walk
slip through my unconscious
as through a sieve.
I grin at the hidden sun,
warm in my cocoon,
unbothered by strangers
or grey skies.
Then I am caught by two eyes
watching me tenderly,
and all my layered preparations
peel away,
and I
shiver.
across my path,
and laugh at the wind's
taunting breath.
I am armored against
the cold,
cautious and ready
for the harshest blast.
Odd glances darting past me
as I walk
slip through my unconscious
as through a sieve.
I grin at the hidden sun,
warm in my cocoon,
unbothered by strangers
or grey skies.
Then I am caught by two eyes
watching me tenderly,
and all my layered preparations
peel away,
and I
shiver.
Monday, February 04, 2008
an American tradition
I watched my first Superbowl yesterday. Patriots fans are amusing to watch. I ate the last cookie. And I'm way too competitive; it's a good thing I DON'T watch sports regularly. It's so much fun to mock that I don't want to get attached. I still think their outfits are ridiculous, though.
And all my apartment-mates have returned, so I am no longer all alone and bored. It's much more cheerful with all of us around. I also had a good, long talk with someone today, so all that grrness that bottled up last weekend has drained away. I feel much better, much encouraged. And I smelled sea air, and saw geese and seagulls. Good to get off-campus. Good to find honest sympathy. Good, good, good. Still tired in body, but not so tired in emotion.
You fall down, down, down, and then suddenly realize you've somehow been pulled back up into the open air, and it's one of the most ecstatic, beautiful feelings in the world. Vita bona est.
And all my apartment-mates have returned, so I am no longer all alone and bored. It's much more cheerful with all of us around. I also had a good, long talk with someone today, so all that grrness that bottled up last weekend has drained away. I feel much better, much encouraged. And I smelled sea air, and saw geese and seagulls. Good to get off-campus. Good to find honest sympathy. Good, good, good. Still tired in body, but not so tired in emotion.
You fall down, down, down, and then suddenly realize you've somehow been pulled back up into the open air, and it's one of the most ecstatic, beautiful feelings in the world. Vita bona est.
Friday, February 01, 2008
and the thorns of doom...
... in addition to all my other adventures, I bit a thorn.
There I was, minding my own business, enjoying my blackberry strudel, when wham! it bit me! This was in my strudel:
Isn't that scary. About a finger-length! In my food. But, of course, I shall not let this frighten me. I'll still eat blackberry strudel. It's too good to give up because of this.
There I was, minding my own business, enjoying my blackberry strudel, when wham! it bit me! This was in my strudel:
Isn't that scary. About a finger-length! In my food. But, of course, I shall not let this frighten me. I'll still eat blackberry strudel. It's too good to give up because of this.
from Christmas break
Over break I did some baking, mostly recipes that involved hazelnuts. This is our first project: Austrian Hazelnut Cake. Isn't it pretty?
We also mad Hazelnut Buns, and a loaf cake. And I made oatmeal muffins. Also did sewing: a shirt, and a dress (which is not quite finished). I felt like an old-fashioned girl, and it was good.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Right then.
I've been at school a week now. Having endured rain (and more rain), a power outage, losing at chess, and a looong plane flight, I arrived on campus late last Tuesday. Now classes have begun, and are wonderful thus far. Have I ever mentioned that I love reading? Well, I do. I also love weather, music, people, and food.
I took a prayer stroll around the pond today. Back in the woods are pools of water which aren't quite ponds yet are bigger than puddles... I think I'll call them... I'm not sure. But they're all iced over, and the ice looks almost exactly like white marble. Cool and smooth and opaque, rich and beautiful. And I couldn't help but think how people pay exorbitant sums of money to make their floors look like frozen winter puddles... Farther along, several trees had been cut, leaving sawdust strewn across the crushed, partially melted snow. The logs were neatly stacked in three small segments next to the path. I could still smell them as I walked past. It made me think of poetry and home. And have you ever noticed how mold smells? It's spicy, in an earthy, dark sort of way.
I took a prayer stroll around the pond today. Back in the woods are pools of water which aren't quite ponds yet are bigger than puddles... I think I'll call them... I'm not sure. But they're all iced over, and the ice looks almost exactly like white marble. Cool and smooth and opaque, rich and beautiful. And I couldn't help but think how people pay exorbitant sums of money to make their floors look like frozen winter puddles... Farther along, several trees had been cut, leaving sawdust strewn across the crushed, partially melted snow. The logs were neatly stacked in three small segments next to the path. I could still smell them as I walked past. It made me think of poetry and home. And have you ever noticed how mold smells? It's spicy, in an earthy, dark sort of way.
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