i am writing for no reason in particular, but for the fact that it helps me understand.
i had a beautiful conversation with a freshman the other night, and it made me realize how much good conversations make my day. make my life, really, in turning me into the person i will become.
i've been thinking lately about art, and artists.
what is it that distinguishes a soul of an artist?
maybe there is no distinction or separation i can actually make between those who love art, and those who do not. because maybe everyone is inclined towards beauty, but it is simply that their ideals of beauty are different. in a form other than one i can recognize. ...yet still there.
art
1. the quality, production, expression, or realm, according to aesthetic principles, of what is beautiful, appealing, or of more than ordinary significance.
of what is more than ordinary significance.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
the head ache
when she had been married a little while, she concluded that love was half a longing of a kind that possession did nothing to mitigate.
- marilynne robinson, housekeeping
i am unmarried. but i think: probably true.
books boys should read to understand girls:
1. anne of green gables
2. little women
3. pride and prejudice? i guess. i liked this book, but some girls love this book.
4.
and there must be more. but mostly: anne of green gables. prompted by kp [katherinejina.wordpress.com]
- marilynne robinson, housekeeping
i am unmarried. but i think: probably true.
books boys should read to understand girls:
1. anne of green gables
2. little women
3. pride and prejudice? i guess. i liked this book, but some girls love this book.
4.
and there must be more. but mostly: anne of green gables. prompted by kp [katherinejina.wordpress.com]
Friday, July 4, 2008
kevo
"Indiana"
I'm glad i never lived next to the water
So I could never get used to the beach
And I'm glad I never grew up on a mountain
To figure out how high the world could reach
I love the miles between me and the city
Where I quietly imagine every street
And I'm glad I'm only picturing the moment
I'm glad she never fell in love with me
For some the world's a treasure to discover
And your scenery should never stay the same
And they're trading in their dreams for Explanations
All in an attempt to entertain
But I love the miles between me and the city
Where I quietly imagine every street
And I'm glad I'm only picturing the moment
I'm glad she never fell in love with me
The trick of love is to never let it find you
It's easy to get over missing out
I know the how's and whens, but now and then,
She's all I think about
I wonder how it feels to be famous
But wonder is as far as I will go
Because I'd probably lose myself in all the Pictures
And end up being someone I don't know.
So it's probably best I stay in Indiana
Just dreaming of the world as it should be
Where every day is a battle to convince myself
I'm glad she never fell in love with me
- jon mclaughlin
i dislike, the finitude of my own mind and the capacity to love.
but i <3 kevo
Sunday, June 15, 2008
late nights = no work nights
so it is 3.13 am.
.15 of 1 lesson plan out of 4.0 whole lesson plans.
haha. as usual. i suck.
i just spent a good hour or more on remembrances from the past...
a retreat i went to a long time ago...
i found a card from the pastor that i used to despise so much but that contained so much simple truth,
"May God give you joy and happiness as you experience more and more how much He values you."
i don't know if i noticed back then, but he has pretty handwriting. i am grateful to you. how funny that it is the lesson i have been trying to learn all year.
and i found another secret that i will save until the future. one that i will hopefully be able to give to my brother, in a moment with much joy in my hands and understanding in his eyes.
and writing, writing. stumbled across some things i had written...i realized, with a jolt. what if writing comes to be "one of those things i did" back in high school? a faded memory, activity; a part of me no longer possible or capable. if i do not start again, that is what will happen...and i will be sad at having lost yet another one of the precious few interests/semi-skills i possess.
or i will look back, muse, and think, 'ah, that was what i once did...'. knowing that it was a giving up on, of what might have been honed, or valuable.
but perhaps we all have to choose.
it is difficult,
to write a story.
i wonder if i have ever read a short story with a real ending. they're more like real life, perhaps. they end with a feeling, a mood- a moment. a waiting.
or maybe that is just raymond carver.
and along those lines, two short stories that everyone should read:
1. "bullet in the brain", tobias wolff
2. "what we talk about when we talk about love", raymond carver
i liked when garrett said that. more interested in the pure beauty to be found, or crafted in words. it made me think of someone mining for something in those words, searching for a hard jewel of ruby or sapphire in them. something solid, concrete, and to be held onto.
life is perty sweet when you hit upon a note of truth. like hitting one of those colorful notes on the xylophone. that happens rarely, or by accident.
but maybe its better to roam and get out of your range to try to find others, than to hit the same note over and over again.
or maybe the trick is to hit that note again, deeper and deeper.
.15 of 1 lesson plan out of 4.0 whole lesson plans.
haha. as usual. i suck.
i just spent a good hour or more on remembrances from the past...
a retreat i went to a long time ago...
i found a card from the pastor that i used to despise so much but that contained so much simple truth,
"May God give you joy and happiness as you experience more and more how much He values you."
i don't know if i noticed back then, but he has pretty handwriting. i am grateful to you. how funny that it is the lesson i have been trying to learn all year.
and i found another secret that i will save until the future. one that i will hopefully be able to give to my brother, in a moment with much joy in my hands and understanding in his eyes.
and writing, writing. stumbled across some things i had written...i realized, with a jolt. what if writing comes to be "one of those things i did" back in high school? a faded memory, activity; a part of me no longer possible or capable. if i do not start again, that is what will happen...and i will be sad at having lost yet another one of the precious few interests/semi-skills i possess.
or i will look back, muse, and think, 'ah, that was what i once did...'. knowing that it was a giving up on, of what might have been honed, or valuable.
but perhaps we all have to choose.
it is difficult,
to write a story.
i wonder if i have ever read a short story with a real ending. they're more like real life, perhaps. they end with a feeling, a mood- a moment. a waiting.
or maybe that is just raymond carver.
and along those lines, two short stories that everyone should read:
1. "bullet in the brain", tobias wolff
2. "what we talk about when we talk about love", raymond carver
i liked when garrett said that. more interested in the pure beauty to be found, or crafted in words. it made me think of someone mining for something in those words, searching for a hard jewel of ruby or sapphire in them. something solid, concrete, and to be held onto.
life is perty sweet when you hit upon a note of truth. like hitting one of those colorful notes on the xylophone. that happens rarely, or by accident.
but maybe its better to roam and get out of your range to try to find others, than to hit the same note over and over again.
or maybe the trick is to hit that note again, deeper and deeper.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
love
got owned this year. haha.
that questioning of love. is it real? can it ever be selfless?
im believing again, though...in love, and in sincerity. and service.
and allowing the best in people to shine.
so my heart: in reparation and restoration.
but joyous because of God.
...and good things, the here and now. and the things to come.
today was a gorgeous day, with kev/sam/sean's uncles, or more accurately, sookmo's younger brothers. they are wack. and bright. and hilarious.
thoughts to remember from the day,
1. how strong people appear on the outside [how much they can hide]
2. eastcoast.westcoast. // acceptance. // christianity, as it applies to everyone.
think i have been working in narrow confines, in terms of jesus and life. but want to expand things real wide.
3. i think i have found another mystery.
i love the people who can make me laugh,
and talking about the people i love.
that questioning of love. is it real? can it ever be selfless?
im believing again, though...in love, and in sincerity. and service.
and allowing the best in people to shine.
so my heart: in reparation and restoration.
but joyous because of God.
...and good things, the here and now. and the things to come.
today was a gorgeous day, with kev/sam/sean's uncles, or more accurately, sookmo's younger brothers. they are wack. and bright. and hilarious.
thoughts to remember from the day,
1. how strong people appear on the outside [how much they can hide]
2. eastcoast.westcoast. // acceptance. // christianity, as it applies to everyone.
think i have been working in narrow confines, in terms of jesus and life. but want to expand things real wide.
3. i think i have found another mystery.
i love the people who can make me laugh,
and talking about the people i love.
Monday, June 2, 2008
a series of quotes
which i just read, and would not like to forget.
"To know a primrose is higher thing than to know all the botany of it-just as to know Christ is an infinitely higher thing than to know all theology, all that is said about his person, or babbled about his work."
- george macdonald
"I have the immense joy of being man, a member of a race in which God Himself became incarnate. As if the sorrows and stupidities of the human condition could overwhelm me, now that I realize what we all are. And if only everybody could realize this! But it cannot be explained. There is no way of telling people that they are all walking around shining like the sun."
- thomas merton
"The darkest of dark cannot extinguish the light of a single flame."
- dietrich bonhoeffer [ a man i hope to read ]
"To know a primrose is higher thing than to know all the botany of it-just as to know Christ is an infinitely higher thing than to know all theology, all that is said about his person, or babbled about his work."
- george macdonald
"I have the immense joy of being man, a member of a race in which God Himself became incarnate. As if the sorrows and stupidities of the human condition could overwhelm me, now that I realize what we all are. And if only everybody could realize this! But it cannot be explained. There is no way of telling people that they are all walking around shining like the sun."
- thomas merton
"The darkest of dark cannot extinguish the light of a single flame."
- dietrich bonhoeffer [ a man i hope to read ]
Friday, April 25, 2008
sleepay
don't wake me
i plan on sleeping in
- the postal service
i don't know what i want to say in particular, except that i would like to be quiet.
and be filled, like a tall glass of cool water.
watched forest gump tonight.
...it was good. so, friends.
why is it difficult to accept love?
how does our past mess us up?
how is it that this man holds on to his simple and uncomplicated love, and his promises?
- is it enough for us?
the last scenes were beautiful, tom hanks and the son reading, fishing.
and the boy getting on the bus.
ah, so little love this year.
...it breaks my heart.
i would like to quietly shut the door on people,
maybe in reaction to that.
but then God brings people back into my life, and says,
no.
haha.
i think i have to, to some extent.
can you give me a reason to care?
was drifting off before i slept last night, turning over possibilities in my mind of a person who would listen. who would understand.
and then i came to the great realization that the person i wanted to talk to is God.
har har, God.
=) thanks.
death has come in the form of allergies.
but so much sunshine in the spring and pale green leaves.
i plan on sleeping in
- the postal service
i don't know what i want to say in particular, except that i would like to be quiet.
and be filled, like a tall glass of cool water.
watched forest gump tonight.
...it was good. so, friends.
why is it difficult to accept love?
how does our past mess us up?
how is it that this man holds on to his simple and uncomplicated love, and his promises?
- is it enough for us?
the last scenes were beautiful, tom hanks and the son reading, fishing.
and the boy getting on the bus.
ah, so little love this year.
...it breaks my heart.
i would like to quietly shut the door on people,
maybe in reaction to that.
but then God brings people back into my life, and says,
no.
haha.
i think i have to, to some extent.
can you give me a reason to care?
was drifting off before i slept last night, turning over possibilities in my mind of a person who would listen. who would understand.
and then i came to the great realization that the person i wanted to talk to is God.
har har, God.
=) thanks.
death has come in the form of allergies.
but so much sunshine in the spring and pale green leaves.
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