The Wild Rose

sometimes hidden from me

in daily custom and in trust,

so that I live by you unaware

as by the beating of my heart.

Suddenly you flare in my sight,

a wild rose blooming at the edge

of thicket, grace and light

where yesterday was only shade,

and once again I am blessed, choosing again

what I chose before.

-By Wendell Berry (written for his wife)

The Four Reasons...to love fall

These kick-a boots...that I will never own. You get one guess where they are from.





Anthropologie.







































































I can now eat sweet potatoes when you are supposed to eat them which is in the fall... only now it makes more sense to do things like this, and not limit yourself to fries.

Dr. House...he's backk...and as my niece would say "What's gonna haaaaapen?"


S-W-E-A-T-E-R-S!!!!!

Especially one's like this. I have decided that straigh up pullovers are unflattering for me, cardigans, and coat like sweaters are where it's at.

And for all of you who know my past, I happen to have given away almost every single one of the 43 the sweaters I once owned. I now only have a few, and wear them all the time.

Someone else's story

I woke up in the middle of the night with a song in my head from a little known musical called Chess. The song is called "someone else's story", and when I heard it for the first time I really liked it... last night over dinner G and I were talking about some things, and I was saying that I think one of my deepest struggles is contentment. I struggle to not look ahead, I spend a lot of time daydreaming, (which I never realized until recently) Essentially, since my jr. year in high school I have been keenly aware of longing. And yet, it feels as if it has become more un-sanctified as the year pass. When I was sixteen I wrote poems about heaven and how I longed for the completion of Heaven on earth. And, what I was explaining to G last night is that it feels misplaced now. I have such a clear path for this earth that I want to be on, and I want that more than anything. So this song from that musical, I guess it really resonated with me because it is a song of discontent and longing...not exactly something that I am proud of though. I want to believe that God has me doing things for a reason, that he has a gentle leading hand, that he wants my good more than I do etc., but most of the time, I just want what I want the way that I want it. Idols are strange and masked things, and usually they have been your idols for years before you realize it. I have been nursing the idol of "Lord you have given me ability and desire for this one thing, now make it happen, give me the right kind of success in the area." I am impatient, as soon as I get to one step, I am ready for the next....At the end of our conversation G said "it's amazing how far gratitude will go to fight anxiety and depression." Later on, I realized that comment was meant for me. Being thankful for what the Lord has done up to this point, remembering, is so important. It does give me hope and make me really excited when i meditate on the fact that this isn't it. Even if I never get to do what I want on this earth, it isn't the end. A fulfillment much greater awaits. I read Jeremiah 10 this morning...you should read if you get the chance. Also, here is a link to Sutton Foster singing "Someone Elses Story."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ySoL8O6qBjM

P.S. Don't freak out at the words of the song. It's the overall sentiment of regret and desire and confusion that gets me...in no way do I feel this way about G.

l
A wise man once said that "the devil himself flees before the sound of music, almost as much as before the word of God." Can you guess who said this? I like to recite this quote to myself when I am sitting in class wondering why in the world i am sitting in class.
Music is a powerful device. It is used to evoke all ranges of emotions. Its' varieties of pitch and rhythm can move the most refined musician down to the guy who can't match a note on the piano. It is an equal opportunity benefactress. (to its' listners, though sadly not its' performers.)
I sing a lot nowadays. I sing German, French, Italian...I sing show tunes, some Haydn, some Rachmoninoff (though sadly, i don't think that is how you spell his name). What is becoming abundantly clear to me is that the prettiest voice in the whole world doesn't penetrate when the singer himself fails to connect with the piece. I have always "known" this, but I am gradually understanding why a little more.
I don't know if what I am doing is futile. It feels like it most of the time. I mean who really gets to get paid to perform? Not very many people. However, I guess I am really no different from any other person who, despite all odds, decides that THEY will be the exception instead of the rule. Most of them end up being the rule...broke from dance classes and voice lessons, and performing free concerts in whatever dive they can find, constantly trying to justify their existence through posting youtube videos of themselves singing Kristen Chenoweth songs(why do people do that?)
Am I really different? Probably not. I may need a little more normal than some people,a tad more cynical, but I am no different. No artist of any kind or any level for that matter, can ever cease their art. It just doesn't work that way. It flows out, as if it were some extension...I am not trying to raise myself to a level I don't belong on, because I am using artist in a broad sense.
Who knows what the hell I am doing here. I have wondered it many times. I will probably continue to wonder. But I guess i will keep walking in this direction, because for some reason, there is a voice in my head, small though it is, that is saying "you can do this, you can do this and have some level of success."
At least I can scare the devil away with my sweet vocal licks in the meantime.