"There's a story at the bottom of this bottle, and I'm a pen."
Distant from
today.
Distant from
yesterday.
Never
knowing
if
it's
real.
Drifting in a sea of glass,
I drink it down,
drink it down.
Shards of amber
from my past
in my mouth.
On my hands.
Floating on the sparkling waves
of
brilliant pain
and blinding
rays.
Unfinished.
Vanessa ((
23 October 2011
09 October 2011
Open.
"When you're only eighteen, and you've got nothing to lose..."
Sitting on a small ledge in a grove of trees reminiscent of the Wood Between the Worlds, the breeze softly dances with my hair. Looking up through the tree tops, the moon peeks out at me; we play hide and seek among the branches. I lean my head back against the tree, and it's really there. Rustling leaves play me a song as I slowly drift, eyes half-closed, mind half-open. Crickets and nighttime birds join in harmony with the wind as I float out of my body and to another world. Give me no sunrise.
Starlight is beauty enough for me.
Vanessa ((
Sitting on a small ledge in a grove of trees reminiscent of the Wood Between the Worlds, the breeze softly dances with my hair. Looking up through the tree tops, the moon peeks out at me; we play hide and seek among the branches. I lean my head back against the tree, and it's really there. Rustling leaves play me a song as I slowly drift, eyes half-closed, mind half-open. Crickets and nighttime birds join in harmony with the wind as I float out of my body and to another world. Give me no sunrise.
Starlight is beauty enough for me.
Vanessa ((
16 September 2011
Lively Living.
"See, I have not, I have not grown cold... You are young; you are young; you are young."
So I passed this tree today whilst walking back to my dorm, and it was all green and healthy except for one branch that was hanging down with brown leaves. It was abhorrently obvious that the branch was dead.
And of course, my abstract brain went straight to a metaphor.
The tree made me think about the church. It seems to me that tree is how the church is supposed to be-- living such lives that it's obvious we're alive in Christ, and that it's obvious when there's someone among us who is not truly living in Christ.
Instead, I think we tend to be more like a tree that has mostly red and yellow leaves, with a few hard-to-find green ones. We're all on the verge of falling off, all on the edge. As close to the ground as we can get without dropping off the vine, with the few vibrant green leaves the oddities rather than the norm.
Hm. This is just a metaphor that obviously breaks down in places, so take it for what it's worth. Lol. It just made me think, what do our lives look like? Do they look like the tree that's bursting with life? Or the one whose branches are drooping, laden with crunchy brown leaves?
I don't know about you guys, but I'd prefer to be the former...
Vanessa ((
So I passed this tree today whilst walking back to my dorm, and it was all green and healthy except for one branch that was hanging down with brown leaves. It was abhorrently obvious that the branch was dead.
And of course, my abstract brain went straight to a metaphor.
The tree made me think about the church. It seems to me that tree is how the church is supposed to be-- living such lives that it's obvious we're alive in Christ, and that it's obvious when there's someone among us who is not truly living in Christ.
Instead, I think we tend to be more like a tree that has mostly red and yellow leaves, with a few hard-to-find green ones. We're all on the verge of falling off, all on the edge. As close to the ground as we can get without dropping off the vine, with the few vibrant green leaves the oddities rather than the norm.
Hm. This is just a metaphor that obviously breaks down in places, so take it for what it's worth. Lol. It just made me think, what do our lives look like? Do they look like the tree that's bursting with life? Or the one whose branches are drooping, laden with crunchy brown leaves?
I don't know about you guys, but I'd prefer to be the former...
Vanessa ((
14 September 2011
J'aime Mes Professeurs, Part 1.
"Like a ship blown from its mooring by a wind off the sea."
Some thoughts on two of my professors in my usual half-jumbled, half-abstract way.
Dr. Carls: History.
Weathered hands; age-spotted face. Wispy floating strands of hair, snowy and thin. Smiles are often; crinkles result. Smooth, medium-low voice that's soothing in quality. Often singling out students with his eyes and glance, he moves closer and seems to speak simply to them for four seconds. "Alright," he'll then say. Khaki pants and sweaters with a collar poking out. Lanky, and shows his amusement with a honking laugh-- the loudest of which is reserved for the Laffy Taffy jokes he shares.
Dr. Huelin: Honors Wisdom.
Thick salt and pepper goatee. Balding slightly and head almost shaved, his hair nonetheless retains most of its black color. Booming laughter often occurs, startling students and making them smile. Eager to expound, discussion is his joy. Warm, and an invitation to speak your mind. Takes time down all different paths, leading in the end to the right one. In charge, but never forceful. Never preachy. Always desires to talk to his pupils because I believe it's true: he teaches because he cares not about himself, but about students.
Vanessa ((
Some thoughts on two of my professors in my usual half-jumbled, half-abstract way.
Dr. Carls: History.
Weathered hands; age-spotted face. Wispy floating strands of hair, snowy and thin. Smiles are often; crinkles result. Smooth, medium-low voice that's soothing in quality. Often singling out students with his eyes and glance, he moves closer and seems to speak simply to them for four seconds. "Alright," he'll then say. Khaki pants and sweaters with a collar poking out. Lanky, and shows his amusement with a honking laugh-- the loudest of which is reserved for the Laffy Taffy jokes he shares.
Dr. Huelin: Honors Wisdom.
Thick salt and pepper goatee. Balding slightly and head almost shaved, his hair nonetheless retains most of its black color. Booming laughter often occurs, startling students and making them smile. Eager to expound, discussion is his joy. Warm, and an invitation to speak your mind. Takes time down all different paths, leading in the end to the right one. In charge, but never forceful. Never preachy. Always desires to talk to his pupils because I believe it's true: he teaches because he cares not about himself, but about students.
Vanessa ((
11 September 2011
Why are Cows' Nostrils So Big?
"Your illustrations always point out just what's wrong with me: it's chapstick, and chapped lips, and things like chemistry."
There's so many things I don't know.
This is what I've learned so far in college. So many people in this world are smarter and more learned than I can ever even hope to be. And there are still things that they don't know anything about.
"Recognizing the vastness of the world and its holdings, the shortness of our life, and especially the weakness of our powers, we are saddened by the thought that perhaps we shall never truly know anything unless, contrary to possibility, we could know everything." --Leon Kass.
That's how I feel. Like I can never ask enough questions to get satisfactory answers. Like I can never be satiated by limited knowledge, and so I'm doomed to forever long for what I can't have-- endless knowledge. That feeling, when one of my questions has been answered, is the best feeling in the entire world. I don't get that feeling often enough. And even when I do, more often than not the answer slips through my ears ten days later. I'm right back where I started.
Sometimes it's so incredibly frustrating to be human. The finite-ness of my mind is the bane of my existence. I just want to know. I want to know everything. What does "time" mean? How could God have no beginning? Through what process does a lump of tissue (my brain) perceive written messages in the world around it? What are dreams, really? Where do they come from? How do tiny atoms we call DNA carry information on them? Is the primary influence on humans nature, or nurture? How does the mind attach abstract ideas to meaningless sounds? Is there life on other planets? How do they get the tootsie in the center of a tootsie pop? In the deepest place of my soul, who am I? What does Heaven look like? Why was I born in the United States, and another girl born in Rwanda?
I can never get the answers to all of these questions. If I could answer even one question fully, that still leaves 48,046 more that need to be answered, and by then I'd be 204 years old and ready to die anyway.
I trust that God has the answers to all the questions I have, and the ones I'm not even smart enough to consider. I just wish I had the answers too.
So this is what I've discovered at college: just how much I really don't know, and will probably never find out. Which is pretty discouraging. But I'm going to do my best to work hard and find out the answers to the questions that are within my grasp. Though it is finite, at least I have a working mind to use. And I hope to use it for the glory of the One who created questions and answers, and holds every single one of those in His intelligent hands.
Vanessa ((
There's so many things I don't know.
This is what I've learned so far in college. So many people in this world are smarter and more learned than I can ever even hope to be. And there are still things that they don't know anything about.
"Recognizing the vastness of the world and its holdings, the shortness of our life, and especially the weakness of our powers, we are saddened by the thought that perhaps we shall never truly know anything unless, contrary to possibility, we could know everything." --Leon Kass.
That's how I feel. Like I can never ask enough questions to get satisfactory answers. Like I can never be satiated by limited knowledge, and so I'm doomed to forever long for what I can't have-- endless knowledge. That feeling, when one of my questions has been answered, is the best feeling in the entire world. I don't get that feeling often enough. And even when I do, more often than not the answer slips through my ears ten days later. I'm right back where I started.
Sometimes it's so incredibly frustrating to be human. The finite-ness of my mind is the bane of my existence. I just want to know. I want to know everything. What does "time" mean? How could God have no beginning? Through what process does a lump of tissue (my brain) perceive written messages in the world around it? What are dreams, really? Where do they come from? How do tiny atoms we call DNA carry information on them? Is the primary influence on humans nature, or nurture? How does the mind attach abstract ideas to meaningless sounds? Is there life on other planets? How do they get the tootsie in the center of a tootsie pop? In the deepest place of my soul, who am I? What does Heaven look like? Why was I born in the United States, and another girl born in Rwanda?
I can never get the answers to all of these questions. If I could answer even one question fully, that still leaves 48,046 more that need to be answered, and by then I'd be 204 years old and ready to die anyway.
I trust that God has the answers to all the questions I have, and the ones I'm not even smart enough to consider. I just wish I had the answers too.
So this is what I've discovered at college: just how much I really don't know, and will probably never find out. Which is pretty discouraging. But I'm going to do my best to work hard and find out the answers to the questions that are within my grasp. Though it is finite, at least I have a working mind to use. And I hope to use it for the glory of the One who created questions and answers, and holds every single one of those in His intelligent hands.
Vanessa ((
07 September 2011
Give Me Jesus.
"And I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe."
Sometimes the hardest thing you've ever done comes in a moment so quickly, you barely even notice its arrival.
And then all of a sudden you're faced with a choice.
Sometimes the most painful choice you've ever made comes without a stab at the outset.
And then all of a sudden your breath is carried away by the strength of that familiar ache.
Sometimes the most life-changing choice comes silently.
And you don't think it means much at the time, but in the back of your mind someone says, "This is forever."
Sometimes you didn't even know you were still a slave.
And then you're suddenly liberated, rubbing the still-painful places on your wrists where the chains held you.
Sometimes the most pivotal moment of your life comes and you're not ready for it.
And then you live through it anyway.
Sometimes when confronted, you're conflicted.
But then you choose, knowing deep inside that it's the right path to take.
Sometimes you want to glance behind you, because what could've been looks better than what's right now.
And then you look forward, and what could've been doesn't even compare.
Sometimes the hardest thing you've ever done comes in a moment so quickly, you barely even notice its arrival.
And then all of a sudden you're faced with a choice.
And in one moment,
you make it.
Vanessa. ((
Sometimes the hardest thing you've ever done comes in a moment so quickly, you barely even notice its arrival.
And then all of a sudden you're faced with a choice.
Sometimes the most painful choice you've ever made comes without a stab at the outset.
And then all of a sudden your breath is carried away by the strength of that familiar ache.
Sometimes the most life-changing choice comes silently.
And you don't think it means much at the time, but in the back of your mind someone says, "This is forever."
Sometimes you didn't even know you were still a slave.
And then you're suddenly liberated, rubbing the still-painful places on your wrists where the chains held you.
Sometimes the most pivotal moment of your life comes and you're not ready for it.
And then you live through it anyway.
Sometimes when confronted, you're conflicted.
But then you choose, knowing deep inside that it's the right path to take.
Sometimes you want to glance behind you, because what could've been looks better than what's right now.
And then you look forward, and what could've been doesn't even compare.
Sometimes the hardest thing you've ever done comes in a moment so quickly, you barely even notice its arrival.
And then all of a sudden you're faced with a choice.
And in one moment,
you make it.
Vanessa. ((
13 August 2011
Aches.
"I've got my ticket and I want to go home."
My heart is breaking.
My heart is breaking.
My heart is breaking.
For the lives that will be led
without me.
For the tears that will be shed
without me.
For the laughter that will seize
without me.
For the bonds that will form
without me.
For the love that will grow
without me.
For the trials that will be faced
without me.
For the lives that will be led
without me.
My face is wet.
My hands are shaking.
I face the unknown.
Looking behind,
I see love.
I see happiness.
I see belonging.
I see achievement.
I see knowing, and being known.
I see love.
Looking ahead,
I see
blank.
blank
blank
blank
blank
blank
blank
blank.
BLANK.
No wonder I'm shaking.
No wonder I'm glancing behind.
No wonder my trepidation
nags.
Doesn't anybody see?
Who understands?
I've always asked,
When will my life begin?
I still want it to.
I need it to.
But looking behind...
I don't mean it to.
But my heart is breaking.
Vanessa ((
My heart is breaking.
My heart is breaking.
My heart is breaking.
For the lives that will be led
without me.
For the tears that will be shed
without me.
For the laughter that will seize
without me.
For the bonds that will form
without me.
For the love that will grow
without me.
For the trials that will be faced
without me.
For the lives that will be led
without me.
My face is wet.
My hands are shaking.
I face the unknown.
Looking behind,
I see love.
I see happiness.
I see belonging.
I see achievement.
I see knowing, and being known.
I see love.
Looking ahead,
I see
blank.
blank
blank
blank
blank
blank
blank
blank.
BLANK.
No wonder I'm shaking.
No wonder I'm glancing behind.
No wonder my trepidation
nags.
Doesn't anybody see?
Who understands?
I've always asked,
When will my life begin?
I still want it to.
I need it to.
But looking behind...
I don't mean it to.
But my heart is breaking.
Vanessa ((
06 June 2011
Here Comes the Rest of My Life.
"I forget the last time I felt brave; I just recall insecurity... But I don't need a telescope to see that there's hope, and that makes me feel brave."
Everything is changing.
Literally,
every.
thing.
Like, everything that's not nailed down to the floor of my life is being uprooted. And in some cases the things nailed down are shifting about as well. And I don't know what to do with it. I don't know what else to do but go along with the tide. I mean, the tide's going in a good direction, it seems. The direction being college and well, the rest of my life. Guess that has to happen at some point. So I think I'm just going to place some quotes here about change, as change is what really what seems to define my life right now. And I like quotes.
"The only thing about life that never changes is change." Don't know who said that, but curses upon them for being right.
"Change is the essence of life. Be willing to surrender what you are for what you could become."
"Any change, even a change for the better, is always accompanied by drawbacks and discomforts." --Arnold Bennett
"We are not the same persons this year as last, nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person." --William Somerset Maugham
"When you're finished changing, you're finished." --Benjamin Franklin
"The great thing is, if one can, to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptions in one's 'own' or 'real' life. The truth is, of course, that what one regards as interruptions are precisely one's life." --C.S. Lewis
"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is part of ourselves. We must die to one life before we can enter another." --Anatole France
"He who rejects change is the architect of decay. The only human institution which rejects progress is the cemetery." --Harold Wilson
"It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad." --C.S. Lewis
"The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance." --Alan Watts
"Things do not change; we change." --Henry David Thoreau
"You must welcome change as the rule but not as your ruler." --Denis Waitley
"The birds are molting. If only man could molt also-- his mind once a year its errors, his heart once a year its useless passions." --James Allen
"Time, which changes people, does not alter the image we have retained of them." --Marcel Proust
"We would rather be ruined than changed; we would rather die in our dread than climb the cross of the moment and let our illusions die." --W.H. Auden
"All change is not growth, as all movement is not forward." --Ellen Glasgow
"If you would attain to what you are not yet, you must always be displeased with what you are. For where you are pleased with yourself, there you have remained. Keep adding; keep walking; keep advancing." --St. Augustine
"Nothing that is can pause or stay;
The moon will wax; the moon will wane,
The mist and cloud will turn to rain,
The rain to mist and cloud again,
Tomorrow be today." --Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Hm. At least God doesn't change. I'm glad that He's far above humanity and our silly flutterings. We're short-lived and have no permanent home on this Earth, like autumn leaves blown about by the wind..
Vanessa. ((
Everything is changing.
Literally,
every.
thing.
Like, everything that's not nailed down to the floor of my life is being uprooted. And in some cases the things nailed down are shifting about as well. And I don't know what to do with it. I don't know what else to do but go along with the tide. I mean, the tide's going in a good direction, it seems. The direction being college and well, the rest of my life. Guess that has to happen at some point. So I think I'm just going to place some quotes here about change, as change is what really what seems to define my life right now. And I like quotes.
"The only thing about life that never changes is change." Don't know who said that, but curses upon them for being right.
"Change is the essence of life. Be willing to surrender what you are for what you could become."
"Any change, even a change for the better, is always accompanied by drawbacks and discomforts." --Arnold Bennett
"We are not the same persons this year as last, nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person." --William Somerset Maugham
"When you're finished changing, you're finished." --Benjamin Franklin
"The great thing is, if one can, to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptions in one's 'own' or 'real' life. The truth is, of course, that what one regards as interruptions are precisely one's life." --C.S. Lewis
"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is part of ourselves. We must die to one life before we can enter another." --Anatole France
"He who rejects change is the architect of decay. The only human institution which rejects progress is the cemetery." --Harold Wilson
"It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad." --C.S. Lewis
"The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance." --Alan Watts
"Things do not change; we change." --Henry David Thoreau
"You must welcome change as the rule but not as your ruler." --Denis Waitley
"The birds are molting. If only man could molt also-- his mind once a year its errors, his heart once a year its useless passions." --James Allen
"Time, which changes people, does not alter the image we have retained of them." --Marcel Proust
"We would rather be ruined than changed; we would rather die in our dread than climb the cross of the moment and let our illusions die." --W.H. Auden
"All change is not growth, as all movement is not forward." --Ellen Glasgow
"If you would attain to what you are not yet, you must always be displeased with what you are. For where you are pleased with yourself, there you have remained. Keep adding; keep walking; keep advancing." --St. Augustine
"Nothing that is can pause or stay;
The moon will wax; the moon will wane,
The mist and cloud will turn to rain,
The rain to mist and cloud again,
Tomorrow be today." --Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Hm. At least God doesn't change. I'm glad that He's far above humanity and our silly flutterings. We're short-lived and have no permanent home on this Earth, like autumn leaves blown about by the wind..
Vanessa. ((
18 May 2011
Take the Racket Off Your Eyes.
"It seems our fate is something we've already embraced."
So a few days ago my littlest sister Klaire was playing outside and I was sitting with her and reading. She was playing with a tennis racket and swinging on our hammock. Discovering that when she looked through the racket at me from the other side of the yard, it looked as though my swing was covered by the racket, she announced that she was covering me up. She walked closer and closer, and the closer she got to me, the closer she had to bring the racket to her face for me to still be covered. All the while she was yelling, "You're covered with the racket! You're covered with the racket!"
Of course, it was silly to me, because I was quite obviously not covered with the racket. But Klaire could only see what she put before her eyes. I think that this is what we do sometimes. We cover our eyes to the real truth, convincing ourselves that what we put before our eyes is reality. The closer we get to the truth, the closer we have to pull our substitute truth to our eyes, making ourselves more and more shortsighted and inward focused. We become defensive, and refuse to take away what we think is the truth for one minute to look at other options.
I just think that when someone stubbornly refuses to consider any other point of view, that's a surefire way to tell that whatever their view is, is probably not very reliable. Or that they haven't thought it out fully. When someone has clearly thought out their point of view and knows why it's the correct one, they aren't afraid to look at other views. They've already brought their view up against the others, and they are still firm in their convictions.
I dunno, just some random thoughts. Looking at the concrete with abstract eyes. I tend to do that, if you haven't noticed. :)
Vanessa. ((
So a few days ago my littlest sister Klaire was playing outside and I was sitting with her and reading. She was playing with a tennis racket and swinging on our hammock. Discovering that when she looked through the racket at me from the other side of the yard, it looked as though my swing was covered by the racket, she announced that she was covering me up. She walked closer and closer, and the closer she got to me, the closer she had to bring the racket to her face for me to still be covered. All the while she was yelling, "You're covered with the racket! You're covered with the racket!"
Of course, it was silly to me, because I was quite obviously not covered with the racket. But Klaire could only see what she put before her eyes. I think that this is what we do sometimes. We cover our eyes to the real truth, convincing ourselves that what we put before our eyes is reality. The closer we get to the truth, the closer we have to pull our substitute truth to our eyes, making ourselves more and more shortsighted and inward focused. We become defensive, and refuse to take away what we think is the truth for one minute to look at other options.
I just think that when someone stubbornly refuses to consider any other point of view, that's a surefire way to tell that whatever their view is, is probably not very reliable. Or that they haven't thought it out fully. When someone has clearly thought out their point of view and knows why it's the correct one, they aren't afraid to look at other views. They've already brought their view up against the others, and they are still firm in their convictions.
I dunno, just some random thoughts. Looking at the concrete with abstract eyes. I tend to do that, if you haven't noticed. :)
Vanessa. ((
24 April 2011
The Power of Music.
"And that's when we will feel the totality of our imperfection."
So last night I went with one of my best friends and his family to a concert in St. Louis for my eighteenth birthday. The concert was The Civil Wars, who were opened by White Dress. It... kind of changed my life a little bit. This is some of the overflow of my soul after this experience, pretty much describing the scene, what happened. In a poetic way, of course, because I just can't help myself. Lol. I took a little bit of creative license, so some of the actual details of what happened weren't exactly like this, but this is overall factually accurate, and utterly emotionally accurate, at least for me.
White Dress.
Blue lights and a hushed atmosphere. Spotlight beams on a blonde headed girl releasing the blues from a creamy smooth guitar. As her lip curls in time to the music, the rain pours outside, giving the impression that the tears she is keeping in are being vented through the sky. Music floods the room from the bottom to top, stealing souls and filling the listeners with emotions both felt, and never. Lip quivering, the singer bares her soul into the hush, accompanied by the minor notes of her skilled and weary fingers. She smiles with her lips to the audience when they applaud her dark veracity, but even so the sadness lingers in her eyes.
The Civil Wars.
Silence; stillness. His guitar strap makes a small rustling sound as he pulls it over his head and adjusts it. A muffled squeak as she draws the microphone stand closer. He strums the first note; they breathe the first harmony. Almost visible in the smoky air, their voices are causing heaven to softly erupt in the heaviness. Chemicals mutely flow and electrify the space in between them. No one in the audience breathes out for fear that the delving melodies they breathed in will leave their souls barren again if they do. Caught in the sweeping moment, the singer twists her hands and sways her hips deeply, eyes closed. She seems to be handling the dusty light and the damp song with her fairy hands, pulling melodies, harmonies, and soaring depression out of the crevices of the mildewed brick walls. He closes his eyes, lips softly caressing every note he sings; the guitar relates the words he leaves unspoken. Sour notes create a grimy musical bliss that shakes the core of the audience. Tender redemption is offered for the once-hardened in the emotion of the chords. Once the last chord is played the strength will return, but until then the stiffness of those listeners is wilted away. The eyes of the singers meet and a smile is in them for the bond that is created at the intertwining of their voices. Tears and applause give validation to their purpose as their audience soaks up their bared souls in ecstasy. Quietly pattering rain lends atmosphere and gives each one present a pathway to the divine. Once the guitar has strummed its final chord and the singers have breathed their final harmony, silence and stillness reign again-- not only in the air, but in every spirit who has heard the heavens break open into this night.
Vanessa. ((
So last night I went with one of my best friends and his family to a concert in St. Louis for my eighteenth birthday. The concert was The Civil Wars, who were opened by White Dress. It... kind of changed my life a little bit. This is some of the overflow of my soul after this experience, pretty much describing the scene, what happened. In a poetic way, of course, because I just can't help myself. Lol. I took a little bit of creative license, so some of the actual details of what happened weren't exactly like this, but this is overall factually accurate, and utterly emotionally accurate, at least for me.
White Dress.
Blue lights and a hushed atmosphere. Spotlight beams on a blonde headed girl releasing the blues from a creamy smooth guitar. As her lip curls in time to the music, the rain pours outside, giving the impression that the tears she is keeping in are being vented through the sky. Music floods the room from the bottom to top, stealing souls and filling the listeners with emotions both felt, and never. Lip quivering, the singer bares her soul into the hush, accompanied by the minor notes of her skilled and weary fingers. She smiles with her lips to the audience when they applaud her dark veracity, but even so the sadness lingers in her eyes.
The Civil Wars.
Silence; stillness. His guitar strap makes a small rustling sound as he pulls it over his head and adjusts it. A muffled squeak as she draws the microphone stand closer. He strums the first note; they breathe the first harmony. Almost visible in the smoky air, their voices are causing heaven to softly erupt in the heaviness. Chemicals mutely flow and electrify the space in between them. No one in the audience breathes out for fear that the delving melodies they breathed in will leave their souls barren again if they do. Caught in the sweeping moment, the singer twists her hands and sways her hips deeply, eyes closed. She seems to be handling the dusty light and the damp song with her fairy hands, pulling melodies, harmonies, and soaring depression out of the crevices of the mildewed brick walls. He closes his eyes, lips softly caressing every note he sings; the guitar relates the words he leaves unspoken. Sour notes create a grimy musical bliss that shakes the core of the audience. Tender redemption is offered for the once-hardened in the emotion of the chords. Once the last chord is played the strength will return, but until then the stiffness of those listeners is wilted away. The eyes of the singers meet and a smile is in them for the bond that is created at the intertwining of their voices. Tears and applause give validation to their purpose as their audience soaks up their bared souls in ecstasy. Quietly pattering rain lends atmosphere and gives each one present a pathway to the divine. Once the guitar has strummed its final chord and the singers have breathed their final harmony, silence and stillness reign again-- not only in the air, but in every spirit who has heard the heavens break open into this night.
Vanessa. ((
18 April 2011
Crusades.
"There is no sense in playing games when you've done all that you can do."
Foggy breath streaming from his lips, he continues in his fervent prayers. With violent exhortation he raises his hands and his voice to plead with the Lord. The blade is lifted high, and he consecrates it. Slicing open his arms, the life inside of him spills to the dust, forming a thick, sticky mud that surrounds his feet and seeps slowly into the soil.
Blood will be noticed.
The life inside me for the life inside another.
Weakening physically, yet spiritually only strengthening, he drops to his knees, crying out.
"Lord have mercy!"
The yell fills the air; it fills his ears; it fills his lungs.
"Lord have mercy!"
And the last drop of blood is spent.
And the Lord has mercy.
Vanessa. ((
Disclaimer: I don't actually believe that this is how the Lord gives mercy, or any such skewed doctrine. This is simply my creative interpretation of the idea of the Flagellants, and pieces of the crusades.
Foggy breath streaming from his lips, he continues in his fervent prayers. With violent exhortation he raises his hands and his voice to plead with the Lord. The blade is lifted high, and he consecrates it. Slicing open his arms, the life inside of him spills to the dust, forming a thick, sticky mud that surrounds his feet and seeps slowly into the soil.
Blood will be noticed.
The life inside me for the life inside another.
Weakening physically, yet spiritually only strengthening, he drops to his knees, crying out.
"Lord have mercy!"
The yell fills the air; it fills his ears; it fills his lungs.
"Lord have mercy!"
And the last drop of blood is spent.
And the Lord has mercy.
Vanessa. ((
Disclaimer: I don't actually believe that this is how the Lord gives mercy, or any such skewed doctrine. This is simply my creative interpretation of the idea of the Flagellants, and pieces of the crusades.
16 April 2011
Synesthesia.
"Empty and opaque; give your pearls to the sea."
Swirling
I grasp the rope
trying to keep
above the water
I taste the blue
of the waves;
they crash
one by one,
four by four.
sun fulfills the
role.
I hear the bright
light filling my
skin-
flowing over, luxuriating the soul
with melodies yet
unknown.
songs melt with
amber molded through.
All I know-
puffed away by a
breath of rain.
shimmering haze is
what is heard.
the scent of
multicolored raindrops
inhaled.
Or teardrops?
Who can tell?
Not I, the cloudful
tempest.
Broken love song
fills my heart,
overflowing the
stars of promise.
single tune
rains from above.
I am floating on
a sea of clouds,
lightly grasping
the mournful sky.
The wind swirls,
trembling between
wakeful and
alone.
Vanessa. ((
Swirling
I grasp the rope
trying to keep
above the water
I taste the blue
of the waves;
they crash
one by one,
four by four.
sun fulfills the
role.
I hear the bright
light filling my
skin-
flowing over, luxuriating the soul
with melodies yet
unknown.
songs melt with
amber molded through.
All I know-
puffed away by a
breath of rain.
shimmering haze is
what is heard.
the scent of
multicolored raindrops
inhaled.
Or teardrops?
Who can tell?
Not I, the cloudful
tempest.
Broken love song
fills my heart,
overflowing the
stars of promise.
single tune
rains from above.
I am floating on
a sea of clouds,
lightly grasping
the mournful sky.
The wind swirls,
trembling between
wakeful and
alone.
Vanessa. ((
Growing Pains.
"Sugarcanes in the easy morning. Weather vanes, my one and lonely."
This is not mine. I really wish I could say that it was. I'd give credit to the author but I have no idea who it is..
To begin,
We start negative
Our worries and our world
We screech about our
Plagues and
Griefs
and firepit our tombs
Our graves are dug
We step slowly
Towards the end
On broken glass
Our journey
Pure blood
and pain
But amidst all that we
See as torture
The dying soul
We reach out upon our
Palms a light
On which we
Guide ourselves
It brings out
Hope and peace
And heat
We brain wash our
Bodies
And spend our
Money on liquid
Drink ourselves
To bitter perfection
This light we carry
Holds maybe bits
of soul
of heart
of mind
And it turns us to people
To the flesh and bone
We peel and break
Off our shell
Tonight, this light
We run
Melt the glass to sand
Let it slip between our
Empty toes
Run through our
Skin to the end
We believe
See all around the leaves
The fallen trees
The dead
We open our eyes
Turn colors
Words
Over in our mouths
Bite sour
Candy and listen
To the songs, the rustle
Of the Earth
Makes ears
We breathe
And all around our charge
Is positive
All around we shake
Bounce
Molecule
To molecule
Never stopping
We push
Against the negative
Rub
and rub
Wrong
and wrong
We dance
and bite
and shout
We become a force
As we
Crash and create
Light
Surreal
We disperse
Shatter in the sky
Boom
Irresponsibly
Lightning
We become
Tonight
The sky will light
Shine for moments
Heat
Open to reveal.
Vanessa. ((
This is not mine. I really wish I could say that it was. I'd give credit to the author but I have no idea who it is..
To begin,
We start negative
Our worries and our world
We screech about our
Plagues and
Griefs
and firepit our tombs
Our graves are dug
We step slowly
Towards the end
On broken glass
Our journey
Pure blood
and pain
But amidst all that we
See as torture
The dying soul
We reach out upon our
Palms a light
On which we
Guide ourselves
It brings out
Hope and peace
And heat
We brain wash our
Bodies
And spend our
Money on liquid
Drink ourselves
To bitter perfection
This light we carry
Holds maybe bits
of soul
of heart
of mind
And it turns us to people
To the flesh and bone
We peel and break
Off our shell
Tonight, this light
We run
Melt the glass to sand
Let it slip between our
Empty toes
Run through our
Skin to the end
We believe
See all around the leaves
The fallen trees
The dead
We open our eyes
Turn colors
Words
Over in our mouths
Bite sour
Candy and listen
To the songs, the rustle
Of the Earth
Makes ears
We breathe
And all around our charge
Is positive
All around we shake
Bounce
Molecule
To molecule
Never stopping
We push
Against the negative
Rub
and rub
Wrong
and wrong
We dance
and bite
and shout
We become a force
As we
Crash and create
Light
Surreal
We disperse
Shatter in the sky
Boom
Irresponsibly
Lightning
We become
Tonight
The sky will light
Shine for moments
Heat
Open to reveal.
Vanessa. ((
Believing is Seeing.
"If all our life is but a dream-- fantastic posing greed-- then we should feed our jewelry to the sea. For diamonds do appear to be just like broken glass to me."
When I open my eyes,
you'll be here,
I tell myself.
And I open my eyes,
and again--
I'm alone.
Seeing is not
believing,
when what you see
is the
falsity of life.
When what I see
are your eyes,
blue
and
wide,
looking into mine
with nothing more than a
dream
in which to collide.
When I open my eyes,
you'll be here,
I tell myself.
And I open my eyes,
and again--
I'm alone.
Giving in to the
tide
is not wise.
Neither is
giving in to your
heart.
If only dead fish
go
with
the
flow,
then what am I?
A dead fish,
I suppose...
When I open my eyes,
you'll be here,
I tell myself.
And I open my eyes,
and again--
I'm alone.
There are nights
that yield no sleep to my
meandering
thoughts
and my
dried-out
eyes.
No future;
I tell myself.
No future.
But in my
weary heart,
somehow,
eternal springs hope.
So I tell myself,
that when I open my eyes,
you'll be here.
But I open my eyes,
and again--
I'm alone.
Vanessa. ((
When I open my eyes,
you'll be here,
I tell myself.
And I open my eyes,
and again--
I'm alone.
Seeing is not
believing,
when what you see
is the
falsity of life.
When what I see
are your eyes,
blue
and
wide,
looking into mine
with nothing more than a
dream
in which to collide.
When I open my eyes,
you'll be here,
I tell myself.
And I open my eyes,
and again--
I'm alone.
Giving in to the
tide
is not wise.
Neither is
giving in to your
heart.
If only dead fish
go
with
the
flow,
then what am I?
A dead fish,
I suppose...
When I open my eyes,
you'll be here,
I tell myself.
And I open my eyes,
and again--
I'm alone.
There are nights
that yield no sleep to my
meandering
thoughts
and my
dried-out
eyes.
No future;
I tell myself.
No future.
But in my
weary heart,
somehow,
eternal springs hope.
So I tell myself,
that when I open my eyes,
you'll be here.
But I open my eyes,
and again--
I'm alone.
Vanessa. ((
Creative Writing.
"Now I am floating away, lost in a silent ballet."
Okay so, in my Creative Writing class we have this awesome book that we do exercises from. I sort of liked the turn out from this assignment, so I thought I'd post it. It was a collage essay, where we had to write little paragraphs or sentences from different prompts, then put the whole thing together and see what came out. It was interesting to me. Some of the stuff has nothing to do with each other, well most of it doesn't, but somehow it all came together a little. So... Yeah. Here it is.
Okay so, in my Creative Writing class we have this awesome book that we do exercises from. I sort of liked the turn out from this assignment, so I thought I'd post it. It was a collage essay, where we had to write little paragraphs or sentences from different prompts, then put the whole thing together and see what came out. It was interesting to me. Some of the stuff has nothing to do with each other, well most of it doesn't, but somehow it all came together a little. So... Yeah. Here it is.
Covered in a cherry pattern, the toe separator is stretched and slightly worn from years of use and abuse. I never liked using it, but my sisters would always force me to sit still while the acrid smell of nail polish filled my nostrils, and my toenails were separated by cherries and adorned with gaudy liquid.
I cover my eyes as the tears flow violently. The most terrible sound I could ever imagine in my little world is coming true—my father is tearing apart my swing set. Sharp creaks and loud groans are emitted from the rusty metal. I throw myself on the ground, still sobbing, my clothes becoming damp from the dewy spring grass. “Dad! Stop it!” I scream, as I shake with the flow of my emotion. I don’t care that the old swing set is much too hazardous for me to continue to play on, or that we’re getting a new one. How could dad rip my swing set to pieces and take them to the junkyard? That’s my beloved swing set! He says it’s for the best. I don’t see how that could be possible.
Dying to yourself is the only way to have new life.
How much influence does where I come from and the choices I’ve made have on who I am today?
Walking down the starlit street, attempting to calm the racing of my heart, I made conversation with my friend that didn’t make any sense. My gaze moved nervously from the stars to the streetlights to the dark silhouettes of the suburbian houses. After what seemed like a lifetime we reached the corner, and as I turned it my breath was stolen from me by the sight of my favorite person. He smiled and I began to breathe again, but just barely. Throwing myself into his arms, breathing in deep the comforting smell of sweat and sweet deodorant, I sigh, and murmur, “I missed you.” He holds me tight, and returns the sentiment. We lie down in the middle of the road beside each other and hold hands, looking up at the stars. Not much conversation is held; not much is needed. What are our friends doing? We couldn’t care less. Their existence has faded into the background of the scene. After a while we know we should go. In his arms once more, I simply breathed, and I knew this moment would be etched forever in my memory. As we were walking away, I heard the sound that tore apart my world. A vehicle, racing down the hill, engine roaring. My father’s eyes met mine through the windshield. I knew that when I got home, he would say it was for the best, and he would rip my world apart. I hated him for it. He would say it was for the best, but at the time, I didn’t see how that could be possible.
God says, “The end will justify the pain it took to get us there.”
Vanessa. ((
31 March 2011
So Put on Your Best, Boys, and I'll Wear my Pearls.
"Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere."
I miss the days when poetry leaped out of my soul on an almost daily basis.
Poetry, a wise woman once told me, is the art of perfect language. Not one letter where it's not needed; not one punctuation mark thoughtlessly placed. Every part of poetry has a purpose, and every part has a meaning. That's what I love about it.
It's hard to think sometimes. When I can't think, I usually turn to poetry. I read it; I write it. It just blooms out of me. Nowadays, however, my soul isn't just throwing words out at the speed of light. I don't like it. I miss my word overflow. It used to be like my soul felt so many things, it had so many words, that I just couldn't contain them all. Now... I don't know what to say.
Melting words and
runny sunbeams
slip into my soul.
Giving out and
giving in.
Sweet weariness
loves
my eyes.
Sweet weariness
loves
my hands.
It feels like the words are stones in my mouth sometimes these days. They're so heavy that I can only get one out at a time. Words used to be water in my mouth, flowing. Now they're just stones...
Is it bad? I don't know... We'll just see, I guess.
Vanessa. ((
I miss the days when poetry leaped out of my soul on an almost daily basis.
Poetry, a wise woman once told me, is the art of perfect language. Not one letter where it's not needed; not one punctuation mark thoughtlessly placed. Every part of poetry has a purpose, and every part has a meaning. That's what I love about it.
It's hard to think sometimes. When I can't think, I usually turn to poetry. I read it; I write it. It just blooms out of me. Nowadays, however, my soul isn't just throwing words out at the speed of light. I don't like it. I miss my word overflow. It used to be like my soul felt so many things, it had so many words, that I just couldn't contain them all. Now... I don't know what to say.
Melting words and
runny sunbeams
slip into my soul.
Giving out and
giving in.
Sweet weariness
loves
my eyes.
Sweet weariness
loves
my hands.
It feels like the words are stones in my mouth sometimes these days. They're so heavy that I can only get one out at a time. Words used to be water in my mouth, flowing. Now they're just stones...
Is it bad? I don't know... We'll just see, I guess.
Vanessa. ((
28 March 2011
Rhymes of Sweet Weariness.
"Our dreams, they are made out of real things- like a shoebox of photographs with sepia-toned loving."
Our love is akin to the
rustling leaves.
Akin to memories
of
pop and ice cream.
Swaying in tune
to a metal
swing.
Our love is akin to
snuggling trust.
Akin to memories
of
glances and rust.
Falling in tune
to the fragrance of
dust.
Our love is akin to the
roughness of yarn.
Akin to memories
of
sweatshirts and stars.
Twirling in tune
to the beats of our
hearts.
Our love is akin to the
sweetness of pie.
Akin to memories
of
wind and I Spy.
Dancing in tune
to the clouds in the
sky.
Our love is akin to the
sound of Neverland.
Akin to memories
of
dreams and acoustic bands.
Flying in tune
to the sea and the
sand.
Our love is akin to the
softness of trees.
Akin to memories
of
skittles and broken sleep.
Twisting in tune
to the honey of
bees.
Our love is akin to the
warmth of the sunlight.
Akin to memories
of
what-ifs and written nights.
Loving in tune
to mangoes and what's
right.
Vanessa. ((
Vanessa. ((
23 March 2011
Sailing in the Darkness.
"Genius only comes along in storms of fabled foreign tongues."
Licking the
flavor of night
from
her lips,
she awakes
and
leaps
sleepily out
of cushioned
caresses.
Where the sky
laps the
ocean waves,
meet her through
the fog.
In the clouds that
hover
around the
steam-filled sea,
she will await you.
Drink of enticement.
Forget tomorrow;
forget today.
Then wake up
and leave
behind
the night before.
Vanessa. ((
Licking the
flavor of night
from
her lips,
she awakes
and
leaps
sleepily out
of cushioned
caresses.
Where the sky
laps the
ocean waves,
meet her through
the fog.
In the clouds that
hover
around the
steam-filled sea,
she will await you.
Drink of enticement.
Forget tomorrow;
forget today.
Then wake up
and leave
behind
the night before.
Vanessa. ((
08 March 2011
Two Ears; One Mouth.
"Sometimes when you're trying to sleep, and all your doubts and your faith don't agree, it's 'cause-- sometimes the hardest thing to believe is the truth."
"Understand this, my dear brothers and sisters: You must all be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry." --James 1:19
If I were to have to name one of the most important qualities in a friend, I think one of the qualities that would make the top of my list would be listening. Listening is so incredibly important to a friendship-- well, to any relationship, really. If there's no listening, then there's no real communication. And without communication every relationship will break down.
I am blessed to have a few good friends who will really listen to me. And not just listen to what I say, because oftentimes that comes out bungled and wrong and completely offensive. But friends who will listen to my heart, and see past all of the walls I put up, all of the craziness that goes on inside of me. Friends who will look past what I say, to what I actually mean. Even when I don't even know what I mean. Lol.
Sometimes it's so hard for me to listen, because I tend to believe that what I think is right, no matter what. And that's dangerous for a relationship. It's hard to be open to listening to what my friends have to say sometimes. It's hard to let my heart truly feel what the other person is putting out there, especially when I'm angry or upset. It's hard when I feel like I know what's right. It's hard when I don't think they know what they're talking about.
But when I do listen, I find that I never regret it.
vanessa ((
"Understand this, my dear brothers and sisters: You must all be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry." --James 1:19
If I were to have to name one of the most important qualities in a friend, I think one of the qualities that would make the top of my list would be listening. Listening is so incredibly important to a friendship-- well, to any relationship, really. If there's no listening, then there's no real communication. And without communication every relationship will break down.
I am blessed to have a few good friends who will really listen to me. And not just listen to what I say, because oftentimes that comes out bungled and wrong and completely offensive. But friends who will listen to my heart, and see past all of the walls I put up, all of the craziness that goes on inside of me. Friends who will look past what I say, to what I actually mean. Even when I don't even know what I mean. Lol.
Sometimes it's so hard for me to listen, because I tend to believe that what I think is right, no matter what. And that's dangerous for a relationship. It's hard to be open to listening to what my friends have to say sometimes. It's hard to let my heart truly feel what the other person is putting out there, especially when I'm angry or upset. It's hard when I feel like I know what's right. It's hard when I don't think they know what they're talking about.
But when I do listen, I find that I never regret it.
vanessa ((
21 February 2011
You Could Use the Exercise, Really.
"He prays to find a man to blame for every sleepless night he spends, and for every well that he warned me of-- but wound up falling in."
A few days back I went to the library in between classes. As I was driving around, looking for an empty parking space (of which there were none close by--the library really picked a bad location if they wanted anyone to actually come there), I passed by the side of a church. Which church it was is no matter-- what caught my eye as I drove by was the sign on the building that said something roughly along the lines of this:
NO PARKING EXCEPT STAFF MEMBERS
ANY VIOLATERS WILL BE TOWED AT OWNER'S EXPENSE
OR BLOCKED TO KEEP FROM LEAVING
At first, I didn't even think about it. There are signs similar to that literally all over downtown. And then something struck me... That was on the building of a church.
Wait, what?
And I thought, huh. Wow. If Christians aren't even willing to give up our parking spots to innocent (or even not-so-innocent) bystanders, then what does that say about our willingness to give anything? What does that say about our love for Jesus? Why would we serve the poor if we can't even give up our parking spot? Or, if we do serve the poor, isn't that just a form of hypocrisy?
Now that's a lot of questions that might sound like accusations, or like I'm taking the implications of this too far. Although I'm not accusing anyone at this church, I don't think this is too far to take the line of logic here.
When Jesus called us to be humble, when He called us to serve, I don't think that He was kidding. And I don't think that He meant only in the big things.
I think that I honestly believe it is wrong for a Christian to be unwilling to give up a parking spot.
Now, I realize that I am severely uninformed in this specific situation, as I just drove by and saw the sign one day. Its not like I know what's all going on. But still... Even seeing that sign sort of turns me off to Christians... And I am one!
Even in the small things, we are called to be faithful and above reproach. Even if that means an inconvenience for us.
I intend to try to live my life serving other people in every area, not just the big ones. If that means parking two blocks away from work every day, well so be it. Hey, I could use the exercise anyway.
Christ calls us to be witnesses with every action in our lives, not just our speech.
I don't know; this just struck me when I saw that sign. Random ramblings.
vanessa ((
A few days back I went to the library in between classes. As I was driving around, looking for an empty parking space (of which there were none close by--the library really picked a bad location if they wanted anyone to actually come there), I passed by the side of a church. Which church it was is no matter-- what caught my eye as I drove by was the sign on the building that said something roughly along the lines of this:
NO PARKING EXCEPT STAFF MEMBERS
ANY VIOLATERS WILL BE TOWED AT OWNER'S EXPENSE
OR BLOCKED TO KEEP FROM LEAVING
At first, I didn't even think about it. There are signs similar to that literally all over downtown. And then something struck me... That was on the building of a church.
Wait, what?
And I thought, huh. Wow. If Christians aren't even willing to give up our parking spots to innocent (or even not-so-innocent) bystanders, then what does that say about our willingness to give anything? What does that say about our love for Jesus? Why would we serve the poor if we can't even give up our parking spot? Or, if we do serve the poor, isn't that just a form of hypocrisy?
Now that's a lot of questions that might sound like accusations, or like I'm taking the implications of this too far. Although I'm not accusing anyone at this church, I don't think this is too far to take the line of logic here.
When Jesus called us to be humble, when He called us to serve, I don't think that He was kidding. And I don't think that He meant only in the big things.
I think that I honestly believe it is wrong for a Christian to be unwilling to give up a parking spot.
Now, I realize that I am severely uninformed in this specific situation, as I just drove by and saw the sign one day. Its not like I know what's all going on. But still... Even seeing that sign sort of turns me off to Christians... And I am one!
Even in the small things, we are called to be faithful and above reproach. Even if that means an inconvenience for us.
I intend to try to live my life serving other people in every area, not just the big ones. If that means parking two blocks away from work every day, well so be it. Hey, I could use the exercise anyway.
Christ calls us to be witnesses with every action in our lives, not just our speech.
I don't know; this just struck me when I saw that sign. Random ramblings.
vanessa ((
Christmas Throwback.
"You point your finger at you; I'll point mine right back at me."
The Grinch Who Stole Christmas is one of my family's favorite movies. We watch it every Christmas; we watch it at random times throughout the year. We love it. Jim Carrey version, not the cartoon. We just find something about it hilarious and moving all at the same time.
While watching this esteemed movie, one of Cindy Lou Who's lines struck me.
"But Dad, there's just one thing I don't understand. Why won't anybody talk about the Grinch?"
Why won't anyone talk about the Grinch indeed. A menacing figure, a lonely man-- the Grinch may be green, but he has feelings like the rest of the Whos! And the Whos ostracized him. They were terrible! But all of that is beside the point.
Just like the inhabitants of Whoville, I think we all live in happy little bubble. Even if our lives aren't necessarily a happy little bubble, they are bubbles nonetheless. When we individually, or our town, have a problem, many times the problem becomes a Grinch. Follow my analogy here. We take the Grinch and we ostracize him. Throw him out of town, make him go away, and try not to think about him. Although we know that the Grinch is the bigger problem, its much too risky and difficult to deal with him. We're wrapped up (no pun intended, ha) enough dealing with trivial irritants-- not being able to put enough Christmas lights on our house, for example, or attempting to become CheerMister. So my question to you is:
Come on, guys. Why won't anybody talk about the Grinch?
When we have a problem, why won't we talk about it? Why won't we share? Others aren't always going to reject us, you know. If we have a solid and stable support group, we should be able to fall on them and know that they will lift us up. I'm blessed to have a group like that behind me, and I want anyone reading this to know that I am available fall on. I don't want to live in a 'happy' little bubble, and I don't want anyone else to have to live in one either.
Let's make a pact.
Let's talk about the Grinch.
Because when Grinches are brought out in the open, situations normally get a lot better.
True, there may be some bumps in the road on the way there, but I believe that before you know it, the Grinch will not only be solved, but he will be jovially asking you to pass the rare Who roast beast.
vanessa ((
The Grinch Who Stole Christmas is one of my family's favorite movies. We watch it every Christmas; we watch it at random times throughout the year. We love it. Jim Carrey version, not the cartoon. We just find something about it hilarious and moving all at the same time.
While watching this esteemed movie, one of Cindy Lou Who's lines struck me.
"But Dad, there's just one thing I don't understand. Why won't anybody talk about the Grinch?"
Why won't anyone talk about the Grinch indeed. A menacing figure, a lonely man-- the Grinch may be green, but he has feelings like the rest of the Whos! And the Whos ostracized him. They were terrible! But all of that is beside the point.
Just like the inhabitants of Whoville, I think we all live in happy little bubble. Even if our lives aren't necessarily a happy little bubble, they are bubbles nonetheless. When we individually, or our town, have a problem, many times the problem becomes a Grinch. Follow my analogy here. We take the Grinch and we ostracize him. Throw him out of town, make him go away, and try not to think about him. Although we know that the Grinch is the bigger problem, its much too risky and difficult to deal with him. We're wrapped up (no pun intended, ha) enough dealing with trivial irritants-- not being able to put enough Christmas lights on our house, for example, or attempting to become CheerMister. So my question to you is:
Come on, guys. Why won't anybody talk about the Grinch?
When we have a problem, why won't we talk about it? Why won't we share? Others aren't always going to reject us, you know. If we have a solid and stable support group, we should be able to fall on them and know that they will lift us up. I'm blessed to have a group like that behind me, and I want anyone reading this to know that I am available fall on. I don't want to live in a 'happy' little bubble, and I don't want anyone else to have to live in one either.
Let's make a pact.
Let's talk about the Grinch.
Because when Grinches are brought out in the open, situations normally get a lot better.
True, there may be some bumps in the road on the way there, but I believe that before you know it, the Grinch will not only be solved, but he will be jovially asking you to pass the rare Who roast beast.
vanessa ((
Artistry.
"Raindrops keep falling on my head."
This is a complicated dance.
Hold my hands, and
don't let go.
When the dawn
breaks the sky,
give me a chance.
We'll make it, I know.
We'll fly so high that the
world below
is just a painted
portrait in rhyme.
Look at the stars--
I'll be one of them,
someday,
if wings can be
found for me.
Its a tragedy with
a dose of hope;
I know you have the
courage to lift off.
If you close your eyes,
we'll fly so high
that the world below
is just a painted
portrait in rhyme.
This is a complicated dance,
the fateful leap.
There's no chance to
look back, so
don't look down.
Open your eyes,
see the beauty
unwind, and
we'll fly so high
that the world below
is just a painted
portrait in rhyme.
vanessa ((
This is a complicated dance.
Hold my hands, and
don't let go.
When the dawn
breaks the sky,
give me a chance.
We'll make it, I know.
We'll fly so high that the
world below
is just a painted
portrait in rhyme.
Look at the stars--
I'll be one of them,
someday,
if wings can be
found for me.
Its a tragedy with
a dose of hope;
I know you have the
courage to lift off.
If you close your eyes,
we'll fly so high
that the world below
is just a painted
portrait in rhyme.
This is a complicated dance,
the fateful leap.
There's no chance to
look back, so
don't look down.
Open your eyes,
see the beauty
unwind, and
we'll fly so high
that the world below
is just a painted
portrait in rhyme.
vanessa ((
02 February 2011
Ready or Not, Here I Come..
"Lately I've been hard to reach. I've been too long out on my own."
Afraid to look behind;
afraid to look ahead.
Eyes tightly closed.
Arms tightly wrapped around
myself.
No peeking.
Cause I'm playing
hide-and-seek
with my hurts.
I'll count to ten, and
they'll all hide away
somewhere deep
deep
deep in my soul.
But shh,
don't tell,
when ten is up--
I'm going to cheat.
I'll keep my eyes
tightly closed.
No looking;
no peeking.
Maybe they'll
stay put.
And not approach,
softly,
tapping on my shoulder.
Rocking on their heels.
Raising their eyebrows and
saying expectantly--
"Hey.
You forgot to come looking."
vanessa ((
Afraid to look behind;
afraid to look ahead.
Eyes tightly closed.
Arms tightly wrapped around
myself.
No peeking.
Cause I'm playing
hide-and-seek
with my hurts.
I'll count to ten, and
they'll all hide away
somewhere deep
deep
deep in my soul.
But shh,
don't tell,
when ten is up--
I'm going to cheat.
I'll keep my eyes
tightly closed.
No looking;
no peeking.
Maybe they'll
stay put.
And not approach,
softly,
tapping on my shoulder.
Rocking on their heels.
Raising their eyebrows and
saying expectantly--
"Hey.
You forgot to come looking."
vanessa ((
Blizzard.
"Sometimes life can seem wrong, and still be right."
Bishops fall
and roll in the snow
as monks look on
and laugh.
Birds chatter
questioningly.
Snow falls quietly.
But the sun melts it
as fast as it can
stick.
Living in freedom
is
not as quaint as it
might seem.
vanessa ((
Bishops fall
and roll in the snow
as monks look on
and laugh.
Birds chatter
questioningly.
Snow falls quietly.
But the sun melts it
as fast as it can
stick.
Living in freedom
is
not as quaint as it
might seem.
vanessa ((
01 February 2011
Strength-Love.
"Fly me to the moon. Let me play among the stars. Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars."
Someone I know recently wrote a poem, and in this poem there was a line:
"Learn to love humbly with no shame."
I believe that all of us (and by "us" I mean humanity) are secretly ashamed to love. We think in some deep part of ourselves that true love is wrong. I really believe that people think this. The one thing that seems to terrify even the most fearless of humans is being open about our feelings. Why? Why can we not openly express our emotions?
Me, being a very emotionally open person, can't comprehend this. I mean, to a certain extent.
I have a theory of why we all have this shame to love, of course.
The emotions that we're afraid to express are the ones that make us vulnerable.
When we are open about ourselves, when people see who we truly are, we're exposed. Its dangerous. Like a patch of skin peeking through armor. Our emotions are a piece of the truest part of ourselves, and revealing the truest part of ourselves is like baring our chest right in front of someone holding a huge sword.
I've discovered that this is what I think true love is.
True love is pulling back our armor, and exposing the weakest and truest pieces of ourselves to someone who is holding a sword.
True love involves trust. Believing that the person holding the sword is not going to swing upward and then down, splitting us into pain-filled shards. And sometimes... Sometimes the other person does that. And broken trust and a shattered heart can be the most painful thing a person can feel. But God-love, agape-love, true-love, will always pull their armor back again, and again, and again. True love always involves vulnerability. Because true love always involves risk. If there's no risk involved, then its not true love. At least in my, very humble opinion.
I'm not advocating blindly trusting everyone... I guess. Although that does sound sort of appealing to my idealistic side. But this is what I really mean, I think.. Just because you trust freely doesn't mean that you don't have discretion, and that you don't know when to keep things to yourself. Trusting freely doesn't mean that you spill your soul to everyone on the street. It does mean, however, that you don't hold back when you could let go. You don't hide who you are.
So put yourself out there. Give the people around you God-love, agape-love, true-love. Love people without shame. Pull back your armor and expose yourself.
Although you may get hurt sometimes, I think that you'll find that when you love without shame, when you're vulnerable with trustworthy people, you'll come back for more.
There's something quite freeing about openly being who you are. When you love without shame, you're free, and honestly-- it sort of feels like flying.
vanessa ((
Someone I know recently wrote a poem, and in this poem there was a line:
"Learn to love humbly with no shame."
I believe that all of us (and by "us" I mean humanity) are secretly ashamed to love. We think in some deep part of ourselves that true love is wrong. I really believe that people think this. The one thing that seems to terrify even the most fearless of humans is being open about our feelings. Why? Why can we not openly express our emotions?
Me, being a very emotionally open person, can't comprehend this. I mean, to a certain extent.
I have a theory of why we all have this shame to love, of course.
The emotions that we're afraid to express are the ones that make us vulnerable.
When we are open about ourselves, when people see who we truly are, we're exposed. Its dangerous. Like a patch of skin peeking through armor. Our emotions are a piece of the truest part of ourselves, and revealing the truest part of ourselves is like baring our chest right in front of someone holding a huge sword.
I've discovered that this is what I think true love is.
True love is pulling back our armor, and exposing the weakest and truest pieces of ourselves to someone who is holding a sword.
True love involves trust. Believing that the person holding the sword is not going to swing upward and then down, splitting us into pain-filled shards. And sometimes... Sometimes the other person does that. And broken trust and a shattered heart can be the most painful thing a person can feel. But God-love, agape-love, true-love, will always pull their armor back again, and again, and again. True love always involves vulnerability. Because true love always involves risk. If there's no risk involved, then its not true love. At least in my, very humble opinion.
I'm not advocating blindly trusting everyone... I guess. Although that does sound sort of appealing to my idealistic side. But this is what I really mean, I think.. Just because you trust freely doesn't mean that you don't have discretion, and that you don't know when to keep things to yourself. Trusting freely doesn't mean that you spill your soul to everyone on the street. It does mean, however, that you don't hold back when you could let go. You don't hide who you are.
So put yourself out there. Give the people around you God-love, agape-love, true-love. Love people without shame. Pull back your armor and expose yourself.
Although you may get hurt sometimes, I think that you'll find that when you love without shame, when you're vulnerable with trustworthy people, you'll come back for more.
There's something quite freeing about openly being who you are. When you love without shame, you're free, and honestly-- it sort of feels like flying.
vanessa ((
My Code of Honor.
"Nothing can hold you back when you're not holding back a thing. I'll give an oath against the shadows, denying the dark. Fight till the break of dawn."
In my World History II class, we were studying knights and chivalry and the like. All of the students had to create a code of honor-- the principles that are most important to us, that we feel we must always live by. I thought I'd share mine, and then explain the reasoning behind some of them. :) There were only supposed to be ten for the assignment, but oh well. I did eleven.
I. Never take revenge on anyone, in any form.
II. Stand up for humanity.
III. Never abandon the ones who lean on you, in times of need and in times of plenty.
IV. Respect and obey authority.
V. Love all, no matter the cost.
VI. Don't hoard possessions, time, money, or emotional support.
VII. Always truly listen before speaking.
VIII. Realize that you are not perfect; never be too prideful to ask for help.
IX. Give the benefit of the doubt, even when unearned.
X. Trust, but with discernment.
XI. Seek excellence in all; never settle for mediocrity.
Now for the explanations.. I won't explain every one of them; some are pretty straightforward.
Explanation for II (Stand up for humanity).
This one is interesting, actually. Every so often I hear the phrase, "People suck." Actually I hear that phrase a lot, as my friends are firm believers that this is the truth. Most of the time I have to agree. Even as much as this phrase may prove right, however, I also believe that every human has potential. Before we meet God, we can't really know our true potential. But still. Everyone has something to give, something positive about themselves that can benefit someone else. I don't care how bad they may seem. There's always something good. And every opportunity I get, I stand up for humanity. And I think that other people should too.
Explanation for VI (Don't hoard possessions, time, money, or emotional support).
I think one of the most important things to realize is that people are worth giving ourselves for. And when people think of keeping something from someone in need, they think of stuff, like money mainly. But I think that its just as bad to keep your time and the like from someone who needs it. Or especially emotional support. I know that I'm a little biased in this area, as I need a lot of emotional support from my friends. But because I know what its like to be on the side of needing it, I know how important it is to give it. One of the worst feelings in the world is when you are pouring your heart out to your friend, and he or she is giving you half-attention, half-hearted responses, and metaphorically (or literally) glancing at their watches the whole time you're spilling your soul. Its terrible. That's why I try really hard to focus my complete attention on the emotional issue at hand, and how I can emotionally support that person. Because when you're hurting and you need someone, you need all of them. Having only half of them just makes it hurt more.
Explanation for IX (Give the benefit of the doubt, even when unearned).
Hmm... This one is sort of hard to explain, although I feel it warrants explanation. I guess I should just say that I know what it feels like to not be trusted. I know what it feels like to lie and be trusted, and then be found out. That's pain, and shame. And then when you try to fix it, and you try to tell the truth, no one will believe you. That's so, so hard. I know that many times people who have lied don't care that they hurt you, and don't want to change. That they'll just lie again if given the chance. And I'm not advocating blindly trusting everyone. But.. If someone asks for a chance and their track record doesn't support it, hey. I believe people can change. I believe people can be good. Yeah, it gets me hurt sometimes, but you know what? I'd want to be hurt by five liars to give one person an honest chance to make a new track record.
Explanation for X (Trust, but with discernment).
This is pretty much the explanation for the one above, so, yeah. Refer up there.
Explanation for XI (Seek excellence in all; never settle for mediocrity).
As my close friends would tell you, I enjoy shooting high. I absolutely despise when people don't live up to their potential. It makes me CRAZY. There's nothing that makes me more angry than wasted potential. For me, settling for mediocrity is not an option. Its just not. This can get me in trouble sometimes, because it tends to lean me toward perfectionism and frustration with myself for not being perfect. But I'd rather that be my mistake than just giving up and completely wasting what I've been given. And I pretty much expect the same of everyone else.. Maybe that's not good, but I think its been helpful to people who I interact with who are wasting their potential. I tell them to bring it! And then they tell me to calm down. Its a good system, really..
So, that's my code of honor.
vanessa((
In my World History II class, we were studying knights and chivalry and the like. All of the students had to create a code of honor-- the principles that are most important to us, that we feel we must always live by. I thought I'd share mine, and then explain the reasoning behind some of them. :) There were only supposed to be ten for the assignment, but oh well. I did eleven.
I. Never take revenge on anyone, in any form.
II. Stand up for humanity.
III. Never abandon the ones who lean on you, in times of need and in times of plenty.
IV. Respect and obey authority.
V. Love all, no matter the cost.
VI. Don't hoard possessions, time, money, or emotional support.
VII. Always truly listen before speaking.
VIII. Realize that you are not perfect; never be too prideful to ask for help.
IX. Give the benefit of the doubt, even when unearned.
X. Trust, but with discernment.
XI. Seek excellence in all; never settle for mediocrity.
Now for the explanations.. I won't explain every one of them; some are pretty straightforward.
Explanation for II (Stand up for humanity).
This one is interesting, actually. Every so often I hear the phrase, "People suck." Actually I hear that phrase a lot, as my friends are firm believers that this is the truth. Most of the time I have to agree. Even as much as this phrase may prove right, however, I also believe that every human has potential. Before we meet God, we can't really know our true potential. But still. Everyone has something to give, something positive about themselves that can benefit someone else. I don't care how bad they may seem. There's always something good. And every opportunity I get, I stand up for humanity. And I think that other people should too.
Explanation for VI (Don't hoard possessions, time, money, or emotional support).
I think one of the most important things to realize is that people are worth giving ourselves for. And when people think of keeping something from someone in need, they think of stuff, like money mainly. But I think that its just as bad to keep your time and the like from someone who needs it. Or especially emotional support. I know that I'm a little biased in this area, as I need a lot of emotional support from my friends. But because I know what its like to be on the side of needing it, I know how important it is to give it. One of the worst feelings in the world is when you are pouring your heart out to your friend, and he or she is giving you half-attention, half-hearted responses, and metaphorically (or literally) glancing at their watches the whole time you're spilling your soul. Its terrible. That's why I try really hard to focus my complete attention on the emotional issue at hand, and how I can emotionally support that person. Because when you're hurting and you need someone, you need all of them. Having only half of them just makes it hurt more.
Explanation for IX (Give the benefit of the doubt, even when unearned).
Hmm... This one is sort of hard to explain, although I feel it warrants explanation. I guess I should just say that I know what it feels like to not be trusted. I know what it feels like to lie and be trusted, and then be found out. That's pain, and shame. And then when you try to fix it, and you try to tell the truth, no one will believe you. That's so, so hard. I know that many times people who have lied don't care that they hurt you, and don't want to change. That they'll just lie again if given the chance. And I'm not advocating blindly trusting everyone. But.. If someone asks for a chance and their track record doesn't support it, hey. I believe people can change. I believe people can be good. Yeah, it gets me hurt sometimes, but you know what? I'd want to be hurt by five liars to give one person an honest chance to make a new track record.
Explanation for X (Trust, but with discernment).
This is pretty much the explanation for the one above, so, yeah. Refer up there.
Explanation for XI (Seek excellence in all; never settle for mediocrity).
As my close friends would tell you, I enjoy shooting high. I absolutely despise when people don't live up to their potential. It makes me CRAZY. There's nothing that makes me more angry than wasted potential. For me, settling for mediocrity is not an option. Its just not. This can get me in trouble sometimes, because it tends to lean me toward perfectionism and frustration with myself for not being perfect. But I'd rather that be my mistake than just giving up and completely wasting what I've been given. And I pretty much expect the same of everyone else.. Maybe that's not good, but I think its been helpful to people who I interact with who are wasting their potential. I tell them to bring it! And then they tell me to calm down. Its a good system, really..
So, that's my code of honor.
vanessa((
05 January 2011
Garden of Thoughts.
"Inner fights have ceased, leaving only peace-- that no man can understand."
Oh, taste the flavors of the sky
and bring them down to
salty earth.
Give me a
blood cloud mixed
with
a
blade of grass,
for the
dewdrops.
Incense swirling
eating softly
open the ground and
bury
your
imagination.
With some tears to
water it,
maybe
soon
it'll grow to an emotion
with
fruit of cloth.
Fruit of the tree--
rainbow colored flesh.
Pulpy poetry.
As the sun fills
the silence,
fragrance seeps into
my soul.
Warm back,
warm face,
warm heart.
Finis.
vanessa((
Oh, taste the flavors of the sky
and bring them down to
salty earth.
Give me a
blood cloud mixed
with
a
blade of grass,
for the
dewdrops.
Incense swirling
eating softly
open the ground and
bury
your
imagination.
With some tears to
water it,
maybe
soon
it'll grow to an emotion
with
fruit of cloth.
Fruit of the tree--
rainbow colored flesh.
Pulpy poetry.
As the sun fills
the silence,
fragrance seeps into
my soul.
Warm back,
warm face,
warm heart.
Finis.
vanessa((
Acquiring a New Skill.
"Validation comes from the late hour. We will say words not accepted in the daytime."
I think that childhood and the teenage years, for most people, are a bit like learning to play the guitar.
Stay with me, now. This is an analogy for life. If you know me, you will know that I realize these quite frequently.
We're figuring it out, learning which chords sound nice to us, learning which chords others like to hear.
And at first, we're so excited to play the guitar of life.
When we get a chord right, there's celebration.
We notice everything about what we play.
Then, as the years progress, not so much.
We get calluses on our fingers.
It becomes second nature.
We don't even feel the strings anymore.
We don't even hear the music anymore.
We just play the guitar of life, indifferently.
Dear reader, this is my plea, to God and anyone who will listen.
I never want to lose the wonder of playing the beautiful chords of life.
I never want to lose the tender pain of pressing the right strings, and producing a melody that makes others gasp and sends tingles up my spine.
I always want to crave the conscious sliding on the frets, the rhythmic strums of my fingers.
I never was to become desensitized to the melodic rhythm of life.
I always want to recognize on the faces of others the rapture of a penetrating chord, at just the right time and place.
I just never want to lose that soft majesty of strumming the chords of life.
vanessa ((
I think that childhood and the teenage years, for most people, are a bit like learning to play the guitar.
Stay with me, now. This is an analogy for life. If you know me, you will know that I realize these quite frequently.
We're figuring it out, learning which chords sound nice to us, learning which chords others like to hear.
And at first, we're so excited to play the guitar of life.
When we get a chord right, there's celebration.
We notice everything about what we play.
Then, as the years progress, not so much.
We get calluses on our fingers.
It becomes second nature.
We don't even feel the strings anymore.
We don't even hear the music anymore.
We just play the guitar of life, indifferently.
Dear reader, this is my plea, to God and anyone who will listen.
I never want to lose the wonder of playing the beautiful chords of life.
I never want to lose the tender pain of pressing the right strings, and producing a melody that makes others gasp and sends tingles up my spine.
I always want to crave the conscious sliding on the frets, the rhythmic strums of my fingers.
I never was to become desensitized to the melodic rhythm of life.
I always want to recognize on the faces of others the rapture of a penetrating chord, at just the right time and place.
I just never want to lose that soft majesty of strumming the chords of life.
vanessa ((
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