Thursday, September 29, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
the world as best as I remember it
Listening to a video of the Psalters singing a German castle made me think about musical limitations....namely, my own weaknesses, and how I long to sing as the birds soar; freely, inspired. Then, I thought about Jay, with his low voice, and how he could probably never reach high, soaring notes, just as I could never reach the soprano jubilations that fill my heart.
But then I realized--without the people of such low range, there would be no one to reach those deep, bass, resounding foundations. And from there it flashed to me, a clarity of how everything works, in life, music, the church...some of us are limited, but those different limitations result in combinations of exquisite beauty that could not otherwise have dreamt of taking flight.
Somehow this must take root in my understanding of myself. Musically, I see the application. There must be the different parts, and perhaps those individuals who flow between them--the sopranos, tenors, bassists, and mixes betwixt. There must be the confident, pitch-gifted leaders. And somewhere in there fit the people like me, a little less confident, but able to adapt to what is there, and somehow find harmonies coming out of my mouth that I didn't know were there
I suppose the trick is to not feel bad about ourselves for not being good at the things that are other people's limitations.
But then I realized--without the people of such low range, there would be no one to reach those deep, bass, resounding foundations. And from there it flashed to me, a clarity of how everything works, in life, music, the church...some of us are limited, but those different limitations result in combinations of exquisite beauty that could not otherwise have dreamt of taking flight.
Somehow this must take root in my understanding of myself. Musically, I see the application. There must be the different parts, and perhaps those individuals who flow between them--the sopranos, tenors, bassists, and mixes betwixt. There must be the confident, pitch-gifted leaders. And somewhere in there fit the people like me, a little less confident, but able to adapt to what is there, and somehow find harmonies coming out of my mouth that I didn't know were there
I suppose the trick is to not feel bad about ourselves for not being good at the things that are other people's limitations.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Eternity
A brief thought, taken out of many;
eternity seems such a crazy long time,
and I have thought that the new heaven/earth might get boring.
But maybe it's simple,
and when we "lose track of time",
that's what it will be like; that's a picture of eternity.
We'll look up from the conversation we were having with Jael, Rich Mullins, Bathsheba, and Grandpa,
thirty years will have passed,
and Jesus will come sit with us for a couple hundred more while Mother Theresa, St. Francis, Tamar, and the cross-thief come and join.
eternity seems such a crazy long time,
and I have thought that the new heaven/earth might get boring.
But maybe it's simple,
and when we "lose track of time",
that's what it will be like; that's a picture of eternity.
We'll look up from the conversation we were having with Jael, Rich Mullins, Bathsheba, and Grandpa,
thirty years will have passed,
and Jesus will come sit with us for a couple hundred more while Mother Theresa, St. Francis, Tamar, and the cross-thief come and join.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Even though I don't like them....
I guess mosquitoes, and other such creatures, may be in a way the most holy of creatures, for understanding that blood gives life.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Celebrities
Amy Winehouse's death has gotten me thinking a great deal about our celebrity culture.
Go to any grocery store, and the checkout line screams at you to buy some candy, batteries, breath-freshening mints and gum, and magazines with movie stars' faces plastered all over them.
But whether glamorized,
or full of gossip-rumors both happy and disastrous,
They're full of lies.
Even if something contained actually pertains to the truth, I posit that they are lies. It is a lie for people to be so caught up in lives that are neither their own, nor belonging to anyone they will ever meet. Friend, Angelina Jolie and you will never meet.
So why this obsession with tabloid lives?
Take that as an open, rhetorical question, because it's not what I want to talk about. What I have been thinking about has more to do with how things are connected to one another. I don't mean in quite a universalist sort of sense, but more in a chain reaction, everything can affect everything sense.
My question starts with this. If you met your favourite movie star, or musician, how would you react? Let's say you're fully expecting it, and it's not like one of those running into him/her in the hall and being super surprised sorts of moments. You were listening to the radio, called in, and won lunch with this person, or these people. Would you flip out, and start dancing up and down, and making weird screamy noises, maybe want to faint, start fanning yourself, or only be able to think about making sure to get their autograph and a picture, without any further thoughts? If so, then shame on you. Now, if I met the Avett Brothers, I would probably spend a couple of seconds looking like a deer in the headlights, and having my own starstruck moment...I love their music a lot, and am pretty sure I would be initially overwhelmed by the circumstances. So I'm not trying to critique honest excitement at meeting someone you admire or look up to. But I would make an effort to settle myself and talk like a normal person to normal people. Why? Because famous people are just people!
I've always thought this, but it was confirmed at the Wild Goose Festival, where one of the goals was to break down hierarchies between performers/presenters and the attenders. I had the opportunity to spend time with a couple of pretty famous people, and guess what? They were just people! And I enjoyed my experiences much more than if I had worried about autographs instead of conversations.
So I wonder how much the pressure from non-celebrity, normal folks must weigh on famous folks. Certainly Amy Winehouse's decision to abuse substances was a personal one. But I wonder how much celebrity idolization culture and pressure may factor in to catalyzing already spiraling situations.
Our celebrity culture is both obsessive and heartless; we want to be inundated by the beautiful, airbrushed gods and godesses, and are quick to condemn them when they fall. I would hate to have people using zoom lenses to take pictures of how much cellulite I have this swimsuit season, what sorts of drinks I order at my favourite coffee shop, how my kids are looking, how my love life is going, or a night-out-gone-wrong. Why do we think it's fair or civilized to do this?
If people have spent time in this spotlight, why should it surprise us if they turn to substances to try and find some relief? And if their relationships are rocky, and marriages difficult to maintain, and parenthood difficult to master? If they get plastic surgery on their knees because they were told they look wrinkly and old? Or lose too much weight in order to compensate for what the camera adds?
And why do we think it's OK to judge these far-off people and not look at our own lives, and the lives of those around us? Stop talking about how celebrities should do this or that! Tell your sister she's anorexic and needs help! Tell your father he's an alcoholic and needs AA! Tell your daughter her clothes make her look slutty instead of beautiful! Tell your friend he's a drug addict and needs rehab! Tell your parents to get marriage counseling!
Not so easy, is it? Real conversations are difficult. They require a lot of things, one of them being compassion. If you don't care about some one, they have very little incentive to receive criticism. It's a lot easier to talk about how Lindsay Lohan needs to get her life together than to tell someone with whom you are actually acquainted the same things. Or, for that matter, to admit that growing up a celebrity and trying to make it as an actor, finding a place as a woman in an oversexed society, while just simply growing up, would probably be pretty freaking hard.
Please, please stop buying tabloids and silly magazines. You don't need to know the stuff that's in them. Or limit yourself; start getting them less often. It really won't kill you to miss a month of gossip, and you may find that spending time reading books or being outside, when you used to read tabloids, as well as the brain power to process and then talk about these things, more useful things, will be invigorating.
And if you ever meet a celebrity, please introduce yourself like a normal person. Don't go on to them about how much you loved such and such a movie, don't ask right off the bat for their autograph. Start a normal conversation.
And if you find that they are too drug-addled, or aloof, or busy to have a normal conversation, give them a break. Remember that we are the sorts of people who created the culture that allows them to be so.
Go to any grocery store, and the checkout line screams at you to buy some candy, batteries, breath-freshening mints and gum, and magazines with movie stars' faces plastered all over them.
But whether glamorized,or full of gossip-rumors both happy and disastrous,
They're full of lies.Even if something contained actually pertains to the truth, I posit that they are lies. It is a lie for people to be so caught up in lives that are neither their own, nor belonging to anyone they will ever meet. Friend, Angelina Jolie and you will never meet.
So why this obsession with tabloid lives?
Take that as an open, rhetorical question, because it's not what I want to talk about. What I have been thinking about has more to do with how things are connected to one another. I don't mean in quite a universalist sort of sense, but more in a chain reaction, everything can affect everything sense.
My question starts with this. If you met your favourite movie star, or musician, how would you react? Let's say you're fully expecting it, and it's not like one of those running into him/her in the hall and being super surprised sorts of moments. You were listening to the radio, called in, and won lunch with this person, or these people. Would you flip out, and start dancing up and down, and making weird screamy noises, maybe want to faint, start fanning yourself, or only be able to think about making sure to get their autograph and a picture, without any further thoughts? If so, then shame on you. Now, if I met the Avett Brothers, I would probably spend a couple of seconds looking like a deer in the headlights, and having my own starstruck moment...I love their music a lot, and am pretty sure I would be initially overwhelmed by the circumstances. So I'm not trying to critique honest excitement at meeting someone you admire or look up to. But I would make an effort to settle myself and talk like a normal person to normal people. Why? Because famous people are just people!
I've always thought this, but it was confirmed at the Wild Goose Festival, where one of the goals was to break down hierarchies between performers/presenters and the attenders. I had the opportunity to spend time with a couple of pretty famous people, and guess what? They were just people! And I enjoyed my experiences much more than if I had worried about autographs instead of conversations.
So I wonder how much the pressure from non-celebrity, normal folks must weigh on famous folks. Certainly Amy Winehouse's decision to abuse substances was a personal one. But I wonder how much celebrity idolization culture and pressure may factor in to catalyzing already spiraling situations.
Our celebrity culture is both obsessive and heartless; we want to be inundated by the beautiful, airbrushed gods and godesses, and are quick to condemn them when they fall. I would hate to have people using zoom lenses to take pictures of how much cellulite I have this swimsuit season, what sorts of drinks I order at my favourite coffee shop, how my kids are looking, how my love life is going, or a night-out-gone-wrong. Why do we think it's fair or civilized to do this?
If people have spent time in this spotlight, why should it surprise us if they turn to substances to try and find some relief? And if their relationships are rocky, and marriages difficult to maintain, and parenthood difficult to master? If they get plastic surgery on their knees because they were told they look wrinkly and old? Or lose too much weight in order to compensate for what the camera adds?
And why do we think it's OK to judge these far-off people and not look at our own lives, and the lives of those around us? Stop talking about how celebrities should do this or that! Tell your sister she's anorexic and needs help! Tell your father he's an alcoholic and needs AA! Tell your daughter her clothes make her look slutty instead of beautiful! Tell your friend he's a drug addict and needs rehab! Tell your parents to get marriage counseling!
Not so easy, is it? Real conversations are difficult. They require a lot of things, one of them being compassion. If you don't care about some one, they have very little incentive to receive criticism. It's a lot easier to talk about how Lindsay Lohan needs to get her life together than to tell someone with whom you are actually acquainted the same things. Or, for that matter, to admit that growing up a celebrity and trying to make it as an actor, finding a place as a woman in an oversexed society, while just simply growing up, would probably be pretty freaking hard.
Please, please stop buying tabloids and silly magazines. You don't need to know the stuff that's in them. Or limit yourself; start getting them less often. It really won't kill you to miss a month of gossip, and you may find that spending time reading books or being outside, when you used to read tabloids, as well as the brain power to process and then talk about these things, more useful things, will be invigorating.
And if you ever meet a celebrity, please introduce yourself like a normal person. Don't go on to them about how much you loved such and such a movie, don't ask right off the bat for their autograph. Start a normal conversation.
And if you find that they are too drug-addled, or aloof, or busy to have a normal conversation, give them a break. Remember that we are the sorts of people who created the culture that allows them to be so.
Monday, August 1, 2011
a realization
(Maybe it was from thinking about this little girl, and trying to win her affection, but...)I remember when I was younger and thought this would be impossible... but I just realized that I have forgotten exactly what it was like to be a child.
One day we will all be outdated.
I'm enjoying "Jesus, My Father, the CIA, and Me: A Memoir...of Sorts" by Ian Morgan Cron, more than I anticipated from the vague description of what it was about. In fact, without any sort of "more than", I would simply state that I am enjoying it. Glad it was offered as a complimentary bit of literature at the Wild Goose Festival.
Here's a wee tidbit that got me sniggering.
"It was Connor who introduced me to music. My grandmother bought him a record player for his nineteenth birthday. It was covered in mustard-colored vinyl and designed to look like a small suitcase. There was a latch on the top that allowed the turntable to fold down. The speakers on the sides could be detached from their hinges so you could strategically place them in the room to optimize your listening experience. It's easy to get snarky about how archaic this sounds, but if you think you're going to be hip forever, don't blink. One day your kids will find your old iPad and use it as a drink coaster."
p17
Here's a wee tidbit that got me sniggering.
"It was Connor who introduced me to music. My grandmother bought him a record player for his nineteenth birthday. It was covered in mustard-colored vinyl and designed to look like a small suitcase. There was a latch on the top that allowed the turntable to fold down. The speakers on the sides could be detached from their hinges so you could strategically place them in the room to optimize your listening experience. It's easy to get snarky about how archaic this sounds, but if you think you're going to be hip forever, don't blink. One day your kids will find your old iPad and use it as a drink coaster."
p17
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
The Selfishness of the Prodigal Son
I'm listening to Keith Green's Prodigal Son Suite (which is beautiful, if you've never listened to it, and you should open it in a second tab while reading), and was reminded of something that I've wondered for a while, something that I've never heard anyone mention. When the son gets done enjoying all the things he wasn't allowed to do while growing up, all of a sudden finds that he has neither money nor friends remaining, he also finally takes a good look at his surroundings. All of a sudden, he realizes that everybody else is suffering under the effects of a severe famine. Like, hello dude, were you that ignorant to what was going around? Surely you must have noticed the hike in food prices, or the decrease in wine quality of late. Or the increase in beggars? But of course, you were too busy partying and enjoying yourself to give money away.
I sort of wonder if it might not be the hidden message in the story. There are plenty of sermons on the love of the Father for us, or what the Older vs. Younger brother thing at the end means, but never a thought to the rest of the parabolic land still suffering. Certainly Jesus wants us to know that the Father is abounding in mercy and forgiveness, and we can go as crazy-rebellious as can be imagined, but repentance will still get us a place in the house, and a celebratory feast. But he also subtly reminds us to look around, and realize that we might be only a step away from having to sell our labor for a share in the pigs' meal.
If I am correct in saying that America (and much of the First World, as well as the wealthy everywhere) sins collectively through flagrant materialism--and the churches are sometimes the most conspicuous in this--then perhaps the hidden message from the Prodigal Son is this: a reminder that a desire to give our hearts away to God is not enough. He desires that we be perfect, and sell our possessions, give to the poor, make our treasure entirely in heaven, and then come follow Him. The wedding feast is open to us when we have nothing.
I'm not always quite sure how to put the desire to follow into tangible action, so if you have any ideas, let's work them out together!
To finish, as a quick reminder to turn your head and take a look at the world, here's a good BBC article about the current famine situation in Africa. It may be across an ocean, but if you're a Christian, then you're called to care, because these people are Jesus. If you ignore the least of these, guess who you're ignoring? Just sayin'....
(Picture grabbed from here: http://www.scienceclarified.com/scitech/Genetics/The-Age-of-Genetics.html)
Verses: Mt 19:16-30, Lk 14:7-24, 15:11-32.
I sort of wonder if it might not be the hidden message in the story. There are plenty of sermons on the love of the Father for us, or what the Older vs. Younger brother thing at the end means, but never a thought to the rest of the parabolic land still suffering. Certainly Jesus wants us to know that the Father is abounding in mercy and forgiveness, and we can go as crazy-rebellious as can be imagined, but repentance will still get us a place in the house, and a celebratory feast. But he also subtly reminds us to look around, and realize that we might be only a step away from having to sell our labor for a share in the pigs' meal.
If I am correct in saying that America (and much of the First World, as well as the wealthy everywhere) sins collectively through flagrant materialism--and the churches are sometimes the most conspicuous in this--then perhaps the hidden message from the Prodigal Son is this: a reminder that a desire to give our hearts away to God is not enough. He desires that we be perfect, and sell our possessions, give to the poor, make our treasure entirely in heaven, and then come follow Him. The wedding feast is open to us when we have nothing.
I'm not always quite sure how to put the desire to follow into tangible action, so if you have any ideas, let's work them out together!
To finish, as a quick reminder to turn your head and take a look at the world, here's a good BBC article about the current famine situation in Africa. It may be across an ocean, but if you're a Christian, then you're called to care, because these people are Jesus. If you ignore the least of these, guess who you're ignoring? Just sayin'....
(Picture grabbed from here: http://www.scienceclarified.com/scitech/Genetics/The-Age-of-Genetics.html)
Verses: Mt 19:16-30, Lk 14:7-24, 15:11-32.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Day at the beach.
The sun, blinding,
gone.
The grey rumblings, threat of summer downpour, are mostly behind, stayed by oceanic breezes. The threat is reiterated; Zeus and Thor matching their skills, shrouded in puffs and billows. The pitter-patter begins, birds croaking to one another, the wet smell permeating the air (watery firmament). Small, pattering fairy stomps on the blanket around me, the back of my ear, my sheet of paper. A flash to the right, distant lightning keeping its place on the other side of the Waterway.
My words are wet, my back is wet--time to cover up the notebook.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
To the beach.
I laughed like a fool when I saw Mr. Bean's Holiday. My friend Valerie would agree. She didn't appreciate my laughing.Anytime I think about going "to the beach", I think about the movie. Bean. Sabine. Bean. Sabine. BeanSabine. BeanSabineBeanSabineBeanSabinebeansabinebeansabinebeansabinebeansabinebeansabine...
So hilarious. One of my favourite Bean moments is getting his passport checked, and he has to make this awful face in order to match the picture so the customs person knows it's him. Brilliant.
Anyways, I'm going to the beach. First to a birthday party for my friend Chris, and then to the beach with a few friends. I'm super excited, because I finally found my camera charger and can therefore take pictures, which is pretty crucial. I need to pack things at some point, and write down directions so I can zip off. To the beach.
This is my beach song. Yo soy playerooooo, pero no hay playa (meaning "I'm a beachgoer, but there's no beach"). Just fun.
So go watch all those links. Now.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Faith
I'm reading Mark.
I've actually just stopped, because I got to the part where Jesus curses the fig tree because it is out of season and therefore had no fruit for Him to eat, and that part always confuses me, and my parents (i.e. my instant Bible Encyclopaedia Reference Human-Books) are not picking up the phone, and I need to understand that part a little better before I move on with Jesus into Jerusalem.
One thing that was shattered today is that Sunday School concept that Everything Is Possible With God. You know, the one where He can apparently do anything ever, and we're lacking faith if we doubt that. Also the one where the kid who wants to test the little Christian kids who haven't yet had to think about their faith asks some sort of ridiculous question..."Well, if God can do anything, can he put himself in a giant microwave and turn it on?"
What??????
That doesn't even mean anything, kid who wants to make other kids uncomfortable. Really. You're stupid.
I don't remember if that was actually the question, but I know it had something to do with God being in a giant microwave. Maybe He was supposed to turn Himself into a hot dog. I don't know.
The point is, that this whole faith thing is a lot more important than I remembered it being. Like, when Jesus goes back to His hometown, He can't heal anybody. Not can't as in, doesn't want to, but can't as in, is unable to. I looked up the word at one point because I was curious, and the words for "can" as in "to be able to" and the word for "power" as in "miraculous power" were very similar, but different, and in the handful of examples I checked out, translated consistently. So Jesus uses miraculous power to give sight to a blind dude, and his miraculous power goes out when the woman with internal bleeding touches His clothes in the crowd. But the simple ability to do something--and subsequent lack of ability, i.e. cannot, could not--is what happens in such cases as, Jesus went to His hometown, and barely anybody had faith in Him, and He healed a handful of people, but left quickly because He could not do anything for the people without faith.
In case you don't believe me, let Mark tell you: "He could not do any miracles there, except lay his hands on a few sick people and heal them. And he was amazed at their lack of faith." (6:5-6)
I'm not saying I think that Jesus is powerless unless we believe in Him....that would imply that He needs us, and I'm pretty sure that God likes us but doesn't need us in order to be God and all that jazz. (I'll bet He likes Jazz, too...)
I'm just saying that this is what I'm seeing over and over, and I think I'll go back and study it more closely. And maybe write a really cool, well-thought-out post or mini-book or something.
For now, I think what I'm supposed to do (aside from writing the final papers that will sort of help me graduate in a month) is have faith, too. So, with with the father whose son had an evil spirit, I cry out "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!"
I've actually just stopped, because I got to the part where Jesus curses the fig tree because it is out of season and therefore had no fruit for Him to eat, and that part always confuses me, and my parents (i.e. my instant Bible Encyclopaedia Reference Human-Books) are not picking up the phone, and I need to understand that part a little better before I move on with Jesus into Jerusalem.
One thing that was shattered today is that Sunday School concept that Everything Is Possible With God. You know, the one where He can apparently do anything ever, and we're lacking faith if we doubt that. Also the one where the kid who wants to test the little Christian kids who haven't yet had to think about their faith asks some sort of ridiculous question..."Well, if God can do anything, can he put himself in a giant microwave and turn it on?"
What??????
That doesn't even mean anything, kid who wants to make other kids uncomfortable. Really. You're stupid.
I don't remember if that was actually the question, but I know it had something to do with God being in a giant microwave. Maybe He was supposed to turn Himself into a hot dog. I don't know.
The point is, that this whole faith thing is a lot more important than I remembered it being. Like, when Jesus goes back to His hometown, He can't heal anybody. Not can't as in, doesn't want to, but can't as in, is unable to. I looked up the word at one point because I was curious, and the words for "can" as in "to be able to" and the word for "power" as in "miraculous power" were very similar, but different, and in the handful of examples I checked out, translated consistently. So Jesus uses miraculous power to give sight to a blind dude, and his miraculous power goes out when the woman with internal bleeding touches His clothes in the crowd. But the simple ability to do something--and subsequent lack of ability, i.e. cannot, could not--is what happens in such cases as, Jesus went to His hometown, and barely anybody had faith in Him, and He healed a handful of people, but left quickly because He could not do anything for the people without faith.
In case you don't believe me, let Mark tell you: "He could not do any miracles there, except lay his hands on a few sick people and heal them. And he was amazed at their lack of faith." (6:5-6)
I'm not saying I think that Jesus is powerless unless we believe in Him....that would imply that He needs us, and I'm pretty sure that God likes us but doesn't need us in order to be God and all that jazz. (I'll bet He likes Jazz, too...)
I'm just saying that this is what I'm seeing over and over, and I think I'll go back and study it more closely. And maybe write a really cool, well-thought-out post or mini-book or something.
For now, I think what I'm supposed to do (aside from writing the final papers that will sort of help me graduate in a month) is have faith, too. So, with with the father whose son had an evil spirit, I cry out "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!"
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
ETA...except hilarious.
So, I'm in the middle of (being distracted for a few minutes from) drafting my research paper on the Basques. I have four solid pages written...and sixteen more before tomorrow. Boo.
Yesterday while I was online, looking for pictures or something, I don't remember (but it was definitely something legitimate for my research...), I stumbled across some videos that tickled my funny bone. A lot.
I also happened to be in class, which made it really difficult. Had I been at home I would have burst into very loud laughter, but instead I had to swallow my guffaws so the prof wouldn't notice...
Anyways, the videos are parodies of ETA communiques. For those who don't know about the Basques or about ETA, wait a month and you can read my paper. hah. But basically, ETA is the separatist group at the extreme left of independence movement, and has been (violently) trying to get Spain to leave them alone since 1968. They always give announcements with masks and traditional headwear on. (We all know, however, that they probably have sexy Basque mullets underneath those hats...)
Anyways, for reference, here's A real ETA video. It's pretty long, so watch as much as you feel necessary.
And, the silly ones:
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
This ended up sparking a couple of hours of watching clips from Vaya Semanita....which I'm going to avoid now, and get back to work.
Agur!
Yesterday while I was online, looking for pictures or something, I don't remember (but it was definitely something legitimate for my research...), I stumbled across some videos that tickled my funny bone. A lot.
I also happened to be in class, which made it really difficult. Had I been at home I would have burst into very loud laughter, but instead I had to swallow my guffaws so the prof wouldn't notice...
Anyways, the videos are parodies of ETA communiques. For those who don't know about the Basques or about ETA, wait a month and you can read my paper. hah. But basically, ETA is the separatist group at the extreme left of independence movement, and has been (violently) trying to get Spain to leave them alone since 1968. They always give announcements with masks and traditional headwear on. (We all know, however, that they probably have sexy Basque mullets underneath those hats...)
Anyways, for reference, here's A real ETA video. It's pretty long, so watch as much as you feel necessary.And, the silly ones:
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
This ended up sparking a couple of hours of watching clips from Vaya Semanita....which I'm going to avoid now, and get back to work.
Agur!
Today
I made purchases.
One cup of coffee, three times filled.
Eggs benedict, hollandaise, two biscuits, potatoes.
Tip.
Four books. Five.
Six.
Four were cheap. Less than three dollars for the lot.
One was not as cheap. Maybe eight.
One, the one that is not a book,
Cost me a hundred Georgies.
Two children's books, Spanish and English. Two poetry books.
One other story.
One for computer, Mr. Gate's riches.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
moving to the city, gonna waste a lot of peaches.
Citywaste. I had been waiting all day to eat that peach, he says. So juicy. So delicious. But it is infected. Infected maggot, worm... house fly. I had been waiting all day to eat that peach, but I do not care how delicious it is. It is infected.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
the city of oaks
I've been thinking some about Raleigh, in part because Ariel and I are official couch surfers, thus inspiring thoughts of what visitors to the city would appreciate. I've already thought about such things, but in a sporadic manner. Once was when my friend Steffi, who I know from Pamplona, but is from Germany, visited. We went camping up at Falls Lake, and to the capitol building for a limited amount of time (I think I had to work?), and then another friend showed her Duke Gardens, which I have yet to see. Over the past however long since I got back from Pamps, I've learned to love this place more and more. Raleigh has some really great characteristics. I love the local culture in the Triangle...though I guess I should have started that sentence by saying that the Triangle is great. Driving sort of sucks, considering gas is only getting more and more killer. But as a student, able to get free bus passes (which reminds me...I need to use that more), connections take a little more time, but are fairly stress-free, and very cost-free. Having spent time in Durham and Chapel Hill, I feel like I don't know a super ton about them, but definitely enough to like them. Well, other than that UNC place...blech. ;)
But yeah. Raleigh has that good mix of city and small town feel. I can go out and meet lots of new people, but I'll also probably see at least one person that I know. And meeting new friends tends to go well. There is so much going on, and it's at your fingertips (i.e. pick up a copy of the INDY!). Being as how I like good beer, I appreciate the fact that the revolution of the past decade that has brought America to the forefront of Microbreweries has such good representation in Raleigh; Boylan Bridge Brewpub, Big Boss, Lone Rider, for example. Plus all the other breweries that are represented on tap. It's great. I was just talking to a friend the other day about how Europeans seem to have an impression of the US as being a place full of such atrocities as Busch and Budweiser and Miller.....but really, we have a better variety than even Europe has.
Anyways, here are a few places that I like.
Shakedown Street. I tend to be here Wednesday evenings for the open mike night. It's a fun place. Full of colourful pictures of Joplin and Marley and Lennon, as well as friendly, fun people.
CupaJoe..... pretty much a fantastic place to be. Fresh-roasted coffee, people that will become your friends, and potential awesome roommates such as mine.
Mitch's Tavern. Bull Durham (? not sure if that's the name...) was filmed here, so Susan Sarandon and Kevin Costner sat at these tables. Actually, one over to the left, as I've been told...
This picture was as they were closing. It felt like a forest of chair legs.
Mitch's is one of my favourites, and has been since I was a wee freshman. They have excellent prices. You pay extra for random stuff; so, like, if you want extra cheese, you get one of those little plastic tiny cups for $.50, butttttttt you didn't have to pay for it up front no matter whether you get it or not. The service is good. the atmosphere is pretty much some of the coolest ever. And....yeah. The food is excellent. And fresh. And the produce is local, and their specials depend on what is in season. Also, there are a couple of balconies...though the waitresses were chatting about how more than four people can go out there at their own risk...
Raleigh.
This was taken from the Boylan Bridge Brewpub. Which has probably the best view of downtown available, and all from a pleasant patio with lots of seating. There tend to be more people who want to be seated than there is available seating, but it's worth the wait. Especially when you grab a cold pint and stand on the wall gazing at the moon and skyline, as Mom and I did this night.
Oh, and that little diagonal line to the left above the moon might be an airplane, but I'm not sure. The exposure time was set for my camera's night setting, so several seconds, and apparently captured something moving through the sky. I think it's pretty sweet.
But yeah. Raleigh has that good mix of city and small town feel. I can go out and meet lots of new people, but I'll also probably see at least one person that I know. And meeting new friends tends to go well. There is so much going on, and it's at your fingertips (i.e. pick up a copy of the INDY!). Being as how I like good beer, I appreciate the fact that the revolution of the past decade that has brought America to the forefront of Microbreweries has such good representation in Raleigh; Boylan Bridge Brewpub, Big Boss, Lone Rider, for example. Plus all the other breweries that are represented on tap. It's great. I was just talking to a friend the other day about how Europeans seem to have an impression of the US as being a place full of such atrocities as Busch and Budweiser and Miller.....but really, we have a better variety than even Europe has.
Anyways, here are a few places that I like.
Shakedown Street. I tend to be here Wednesday evenings for the open mike night. It's a fun place. Full of colourful pictures of Joplin and Marley and Lennon, as well as friendly, fun people.
CupaJoe..... pretty much a fantastic place to be. Fresh-roasted coffee, people that will become your friends, and potential awesome roommates such as mine.
Mitch's Tavern. Bull Durham (? not sure if that's the name...) was filmed here, so Susan Sarandon and Kevin Costner sat at these tables. Actually, one over to the left, as I've been told...This picture was as they were closing. It felt like a forest of chair legs.
Mitch's is one of my favourites, and has been since I was a wee freshman. They have excellent prices. You pay extra for random stuff; so, like, if you want extra cheese, you get one of those little plastic tiny cups for $.50, butttttttt you didn't have to pay for it up front no matter whether you get it or not. The service is good. the atmosphere is pretty much some of the coolest ever. And....yeah. The food is excellent. And fresh. And the produce is local, and their specials depend on what is in season. Also, there are a couple of balconies...though the waitresses were chatting about how more than four people can go out there at their own risk...
Raleigh.This was taken from the Boylan Bridge Brewpub. Which has probably the best view of downtown available, and all from a pleasant patio with lots of seating. There tend to be more people who want to be seated than there is available seating, but it's worth the wait. Especially when you grab a cold pint and stand on the wall gazing at the moon and skyline, as Mom and I did this night.
Oh, and that little diagonal line to the left above the moon might be an airplane, but I'm not sure. The exposure time was set for my camera's night setting, so several seconds, and apparently captured something moving through the sky. I think it's pretty sweet.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Tiny Desk Concert
NPR music makes me happy.
A few years ago, they were the magic behind my discovery of the lucid (in the luminous sense, and only because it was the adjective that came to mind. Perhaps his music makes the world glow. Probably...) Andrew Bird. The Tiny Desk Concert is my current background noise...my limited exposure to these wee snippets of music have been pleasurable and informative. And sometimes rather full of laughter (see Gogol Bordello's video*).
Just a thought. Since I'm not very good at discovering new music on my own, it's nice to have a source I can count on.
On a similar note, Take Away Show** has fun videos. It's just nice to see musicians that...well...don't need their voices edited to not sound like junk.***
One more thing (and related to getting well-produced singers into situations where you see their true mettle and hear their real voices. As of recently, I love this song. It's just so pretty. The first couple of days I listened to it, I listened to it over and over and over and over.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dSZ3WlFPGME&feature=related
(The translation techniques course I'm taking must be getting to me...I never used to use footnotes so rampantly.)
*I can't seem to find the original npr posting...but this seems to be in three parts. Highlights include climbing onto desks. As well as just...everything.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kUzivmtbis8&playnext=1&list=PL619347578D62CD26
**Beirut!!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jc3ZAs17uAg
***http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CD2LRROpph0
A few years ago, they were the magic behind my discovery of the lucid (in the luminous sense, and only because it was the adjective that came to mind. Perhaps his music makes the world glow. Probably...) Andrew Bird. The Tiny Desk Concert is my current background noise...my limited exposure to these wee snippets of music have been pleasurable and informative. And sometimes rather full of laughter (see Gogol Bordello's video*).
Just a thought. Since I'm not very good at discovering new music on my own, it's nice to have a source I can count on.
On a similar note, Take Away Show** has fun videos. It's just nice to see musicians that...well...don't need their voices edited to not sound like junk.***
One more thing (and related to getting well-produced singers into situations where you see their true mettle and hear their real voices. As of recently, I love this song. It's just so pretty. The first couple of days I listened to it, I listened to it over and over and over and over.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dSZ3WlFPGME&feature=related
(The translation techniques course I'm taking must be getting to me...I never used to use footnotes so rampantly.)
*I can't seem to find the original npr posting...but this seems to be in three parts. Highlights include climbing onto desks. As well as just...everything.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kUzivmtbis8&playnext=1&list=PL619347578D62CD26
**Beirut!!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jc3ZAs17uAg
***http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CD2LRROpph0
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Poems, vegetation (reproduction).
Blackberries are fruit and phones and they are not black.
Blues.
If fairies showed themselves to me, they would, on this day, have been dressed in these flowers.
But why is the rum gone? Metaphorically speaking, of course. This is beer. More specifically, mine was. Hers is.Gimmick. Sam Adams, your glass is not needed. I have too many. But your friends, the ones that told me about the design, the superior bubbly technology, were convincing. I am convinced. I will take it home.
Rain. I am behind these window blinds, shut in by the door, quiet. Interrupted. The force of these convocations of molecules, hurtling from some cloud that grew tired of the weight. When I open the door, it is true; rain. Heavy, violent, creating a wind of its own. I sit under the small roof overhang, protection--almost. A little spray, a little cold; trees dimly illuminated in their sway-dance, twisting above houses.
Pizza and conversation. Birthday. I owe my friend a present. From last year. It would be bad, but the wait has meant an even better present, an understanding of what will mean the most when she and her future husband are overseas, away from family, away from these rolling hills and pine trees. I purchase the petals; three canvases, bought from a family man with hair wrapped in a tower of religion. Devotion. She will like it; she has approved my idea, picked the scenes that resonate most, and I will paint in time for them to become hers, and later journey across the waters to Germany. Pizza. Conversation. Art and friendship.
Spring, its radiant excesses emerging from quiet metaphorical sleep in warming tangible soil. Flashes of yellow, white, pink, purple, blue, yellow. North Carolina confuses itself, not knowing whether to grey the skies to assist the contrast of vibrancy, or compliment the prosperity of life with fluff in the azure expanse, golden orb crowning where ageless cultures were in turn confused, sacrifices made to a day-star. Celebration of renewal, Persephone re-emerging from the deep, met by the colours of her joyous mother. Spring.
Church. All the candid pictures I love to capture of my friends, sometimes falling back upon my head when they take hold of my camera. A moment to see myself as others might.
Percy on the rug. A collision of pattern an color, living and motionless, neither of them stagnant, both of them sometimes questionably clean. Ancient Egyptian deity on top of inspired cliche turkish swirls.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Vortizontical
I was playing with an Etch A Sketch just now, and happened to glance down and notice, for the first time in my life, that the knobs are labeled "Vertical" and "Horizontal". Amazing. So much better than just picking it up and turning one to see what the cursor thing does.
Cursor? What is that thing called, anyway? Definitely not cursor. I'm pretty sure Etch A Sketches are a little more oldschool than computers. Or at least, more oldschool than computers with cursors. I can imagine them being invented around the time that computers filled entire rooms and did, like, basic math equations, or whatever they were good for. But I doubt that the cursor was invented yet. Crazy how much technology affects our understanding of things....
But.
Anyways.
The labels made me think about how I've never been able to remember which was which simply on their own. Which is vertical and which is horizontal, that is. And I don't mean the Etch A Sketch knobs; I mean the words themselves. Like, seriously; I've never been able to remember which was which. I always have to think of a short friend of mine who used to say "I'm vertically challenged." And then I remember. She's short, so vertical means up and down, and horizontal means the other way.
Seriously.
Every.
Single.
Time.
I don't know if it's just habit at this point. I might actually know the difference between horizontal and vertical. But I'm not really sure. Because whether or not it's a habit, I do, every time that I read/want to say horizontal and/or vertical, I think, "Vertically challenged people are short people...". And then I know, either which one to say, or which one I'm reading.
I guess I could also think about vertigo, and the fact that it occurs when people are upon heights. What would hortigo be? Fear of Kansas?
Aha. I crack myself up.
Cursor? What is that thing called, anyway? Definitely not cursor. I'm pretty sure Etch A Sketches are a little more oldschool than computers. Or at least, more oldschool than computers with cursors. I can imagine them being invented around the time that computers filled entire rooms and did, like, basic math equations, or whatever they were good for. But I doubt that the cursor was invented yet. Crazy how much technology affects our understanding of things....
But.
Anyways.
The labels made me think about how I've never been able to remember which was which simply on their own. Which is vertical and which is horizontal, that is. And I don't mean the Etch A Sketch knobs; I mean the words themselves. Like, seriously; I've never been able to remember which was which. I always have to think of a short friend of mine who used to say "I'm vertically challenged." And then I remember. She's short, so vertical means up and down, and horizontal means the other way.
Seriously.
Every.
Single.
Time.
I don't know if it's just habit at this point. I might actually know the difference between horizontal and vertical. But I'm not really sure. Because whether or not it's a habit, I do, every time that I read/want to say horizontal and/or vertical, I think, "Vertically challenged people are short people...". And then I know, either which one to say, or which one I'm reading.
I guess I could also think about vertigo, and the fact that it occurs when people are upon heights. What would hortigo be? Fear of Kansas?
Aha. I crack myself up.
Monday, January 17, 2011
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