Quietus

Quietus is (2) a "discharge or release from life". (from Dictionary.com)

From between the silent stars
which coldly hang in the firmament
watching life of blood and pain
the last petal of a rose
a final meal among friends
the sunsets dissolving rays
the curtain's falling billowing folds.

From the shadow between the stars
And returning to that same cold place
Death
A friend and foe
a release, a jail
the finale, the beginning

In the heavens the stars dance
the same circles, the same steps
and all creation breaths
A journey finished and just starting
A white horse, pawing the ground
The falcon's clicking beak
a lion ready to pounce.

Freedom and a haunting glare
the foot steps upon a stone floor
the calling raven's empty song
a fair morning after a wake
Goodbye, fare thee well,
live in our hearts, our minds
find thee, find thee
Quietus

Breakfast for Dinner

When I went grocery shopping today I did not have bacon on my list. I was thinking about soup for dinner. In fact I already had the stew meat, carrots, and potatoes in my basket. I also had cereal, which is my normal Breakfast fare. But when I walked passed the bacon, I found myself staring at the packages as if I had been struck. When was the last time I had bacon?

Without forethought or planning I picked up a package and put it into my basket and made my way to the milk and eggs then towards the register. While waiting in line, I was again thinking about the soup, how I would brown the meat, till it was dripping and sizzling, slight brown, but not cooked through. I thought about pealing and cutting up the potatoes and carrots as I lay them on the conveyer belt. Then my hands found the package of bacon and I found it hard to think of anything else. I was so preocupied that I dropped my credit card, while trying to hand it to the girl at the register. She gave me a annoyed teenage look which made me even more flustered, so that it was not until I got the groceries to the car that I remembered that I had just spend four extra dollars on bacon and I was suppose to be on a diet. 

I wanted right then and there to go back into the store and hand the bacon back. I could say something like, I forgot I already have some I have not used up yet. Or I still have some in the freezer I forgot. But for some reason I could not. Instead I drove out of the grocery store parking lot and headed home, thinking only of the bacon. Till coming round about a mile from my apartment, I remembered the potatoes and carrots and meat, already to be made into soup. And I was back to planning my dinner as normal.

Still when I got inside my apartment I put the carrots, potatoes, and stew meat away first and left the bacon on the table with the eggs. I had finished putting the rest of the groceries away and had pulled a fry pan out before I realized what I was doing. Of course there was nothing for it, but to forget the soup and just have bacon and eggs for dinner. And it was glorious.

Psalm

O God! Wow. Yes wow

Your power is amazing

All the rocks and creatures cry

O God! O Lord! O Father!

Why? 

Why would you pursue me?

go after me as a lion to prey

as a great lioness hunting prey

Or as a bee longs for sweet nectar

dancing after it has been found

Why?

Why am I worth pursuing?

I am simple, of no great worth

I am fallen, dirty, and low

As a dirty child looks up

at the face of a great king

O God! Wow. Yes wow

You see my lowliness

And you call me beautiful

O God! O Lord! O Father!

How amazing such love

How wonderful such joy

How great a God and Lord!

Teaching Knitting

Yesterday night I spent a couple of hours teaching how to knit to a friend of mine. I'm a decent knitter, but I've never taught anyone before. Its hard. Knitting is one of those things that requires a lot of concentration and muscle memory. You have to know my feel how much tension to put on the yarn. You have to get the needle through the loop correctly, bring the yarn around to create a new loop correctly, and somehow keep control of two long pieces of awkward bamboo.

I have knitted enough to be able to do simple patterns with out much thought. I can multi task like a pro. I'm not perfect, but I can usually go back and fix any hugh mistakes. But when you are teaching, you some how have to not only give the basics, hold the needles like so and the yarn goes this way. But there is also the feeling that you some how have to express. Somehow the student has to learn how the tension is suppose to feel, what the rhythm is like. In a way its just like a dance, you have to learn the steps. But knowing the steps means nothing if you can't do them to the music.

Its fun to teach things that you aren't necessarily a export at. Teaching is really the best way to learn your self, to have to express and vocalize what and why you are doing something, makes it sink deeper in. And  hopefully in the future I will have someone to knit with. I love knitting and talking. It makes time go by really fast.

The Spider on the Window Shade

Little bits of light which pass through,
hit and catch in the silken fiber
and the little body curls ready to ponce.
Legs sprawled out, all eight of them
I have not the heart to destroy your art
Have not the heart to tear it down
So little spider on the window shade
what shall I do with you?

Control

It is really easy for me to see if I feel in control of my life or not. When I feel in control my room is neater, I eat better, I run more often, and I get more done. When I feel out of control my room slowly becomes a crazy mess, my eating more filled with junk, I don't run, and I get almost nothing done. I love a little bit of chaos in my life. It just makes it more interesting. And to be honest my room is and never will be spotless (I think that is part of being a creative mind, or at least that is my excuses). 

I actually hate too much control. So when I start feeling out of control, it means things are crazy. Crazy can be a good thing. 

One of the weird things about my messiness, is the it is normally contained to one area (in this case my room). My mum has her sewing room, which is always a little insane. My work area can me spotless, my living-room clean and organized, the dishes done, and my bathroom clean. But at least some part of my domain has to be insane, out of control, and crazy. The size and/or amount of crazy is totally dependent on what else is going on in my life. I'm sure that there is a more scientific or philosophic reason for this need to have craziness. I think it comes from my need to have mayhem. I like mayhem. I like having things out of control and messy. 

I'm not a controlling or A type personality. So why is it that I like something in my life to be out of my control. 

Waiting

Like those who watch the sky for sun's first rays

to breakout against the nights dark hold

Or a man waiting for a promise long foretold

No matter how strange or unlikely

Or the enslaved people hoping for freedom

crying out to a God that promised much.

Like all those waiting for something to happen

Who look for change, cry out for love

As all those who wait with hearts in hands

holding candles with little flames 

As all those who try and can't hear His voice

in the fire, earthquake, or storm.

As all those who see only themselves

and long to see more then just needs

Like all those who wait, on the edge

who long for change, scream out for love

I sit in this never ending night waiting for day

for the first rays of sun to come o'r the hills

I prostrate myself on the floor

wanting to hear the sound of love at the door

I hold the broken parts of my soul

and a candle with little flame

Like all those who wait for something to change

Who hope, and cry, and anguishes for love.

Outlines

I never really gave outlines much thought. Sure I had to do them in school. I am not particularly bad at writing them. The problem is who wants to actually spend the time and energy to make an outline? Near the beginning of the month I started writing a story (started with the title). I've done some writing and a little brain storming on the story, but I am unsure how I want to precede. It is one of the moments were I have the thought in my head but I can figured out exactly how I'm going to get the characters there. 

So I decided today, before I get any farther I'm going to make an outline. It might seem like a step backward, but when you have a story that is as complicated as thing one is in my head, it makes sense. Actually every time I had to make an outline in school, my teacher or professor would say that outlines actually make writing easier. I always thought of outlines as a step that I did not really need. But then again I've never written about parallel universes, nor have I done a murder mystery either. This story is a bit of both. 

I also am very glad that I kept a couple of my writing books from college. A lot of the books I purchased for college were not much help, nor something I wanted to hang on to. But there are a couple that have come in handy. In this case "The Creative Writing Guide" by Candace Schaefer and Rich Diamond. It is has a lot of practical ideas and writing exercise that I continue to find helpful. Also it has everything from poetry to fiction to nonfiction to drama. I don't tend to write in iambic pentameter, but it is helpful to be able to look up meter and cadence, when I'm feeling the particular need for more rhythm. And its also helpful to be able to remind myself about the parts of a story, the importance of character and conflict. 

So I'm off to write an outline... which will probably take a while, I'm going to be spending a lot of time arguing with myself the best way forward. 

And the Beards Win

My family has many traditions for Christmas. The kids can only open the stockings before the parents are up. Gifts are saved until after the first cup of coffee is in mum and dad's hands. We take turns opening the gifts. The person who opens a gift, gets to choose a gift for the next person (and so on until all the gifts are opened). There is some sort of sweet bread for breakfast, either cardamon braid or sticky buns (this year was cardamon braid). And finally there must be at least one funny gift.

The last rule is one that us kids kind of made. I think it started with giving my dad a tie, but my sister and I felt that we needed to make it more interesting. So we put it about 10 boxes all nested together. There have been duck tape rapped presents and sticks in boxes. One year my siblings gave me a pair of socks, but each sock was in a different box (opening a box with just one sock in it is rather annoying). Last year my sister and brothers sent me on a trip around the house to find my presents. Also my then 16 year old brother got his very own barbie doll (long story behind that one... lol).

So when it came time to brain storm about gifts this year, I knew that I needed to have something good.

Beards. Thats right the great brown furry beards on my brother's wonderful mugs are of my own creation.  I also made the green hat for a 'real' present. There was a good deal of laughter and joking about the beards. But I think the picture above about sums up the wonderfulness of it all. 

I finally got the pictures from my sister, so I figured I would share them with you all. Any one else have really crazy gift giving rules?

Pizza and Berry Cobbler

For supper tonight I made pepperoni pizza and berry cobbler. Not exactly healthy but all the food groups were present (fruit, grain, veggie, meat). The best part of making food is that not only do you get to eat whatever you create, you get to share it with other people. As much as I would love to eat a casserole full of cobbler all by myself, its just better (and healthier) to share.

In fact my roommate and I have been sharing meals a lot more lately, which has been fun. She made swedish meatballs last night (which were amazing). There is something about food, it makes people come together. This is not a new revelation for me. I grew up in a large family and eating for us was less about the food and more about eating it together. I remember plenty of meals where we were laughing so hard, we could not eat.

Of course the only problem with creating a lot of food is the fact that you end up with a lot of dishes. I don't mind doing dishes (and of course dishwashers make this chore even easier). But when you do a lot of cooking, you end up with a lot of dishes. At my parents house, there is some kind of sharing that happens with this chore. Sure some people might do the dishes a little more then others, but they are the ones that don't cook as much as the rest. When you do most of the cooking in an apartment, its your job to do most of the dishes (because those dishes are your dishes). I'm really tired of doing dishes this week (guess what I have to do after finishing this post...) Yes I have a dishwasher. But sometimes, it would be nice to have a private maid to do the annoying chores for me. I always thought laundry was my least favorite chore, but not this week.

Anyone else have a chore they just hate?

A Really Good Title

I started a new story last night. The ideas are a little vague still and I'm trying to figure out the character. The one thing I do have is a good title. Not all titles are created equal. So titles just stick out at you, others seem boring, and some you don't even pay attention too. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone (it was changed to Sorcerer's Stone for the USA printing, because American kids would not understand what was meant by a Philosopher's Stone...) has such an intriguing ring to it. In fact all the Harry Potter books titles are interesting. Or take books like the Hobbit. Simple, one word. Yet its such an odd, out of place word that it makes you interested. 

I know that you are not suppose to judge a book by its cover, but I gravitate towards books with great titles. The Nine Lives of Chloe King, not an amazing book, but a great title. That's the problem with starting a book with a great title, or by picking out books because of their titles. Sometimes the book does not live up to the story/writing inside. Other times (like Harry Potter) the book goes beyond the title in ways that are just amazing.

So I started with a Title. "The Beautiful Death of Isabell Janett Parnell" I like it, I think it sounds intriguing. I have a small idea of what the story is about. Now I just have to get the story on paper and actually finish it. Wish me luck...

New Purpose

When I first started this blog it was with the purpose of telling my story. My struggle as an theatre artist newly moved to Philly. In some ways that struggle has continued. A starving artist I am not. I don't really have the guts to be. Literally I love my food too much. But although I work full time and have not been really concentrating on 'Theatre' much the last few months, I have been learning a lot about myself. After all life seldom follows the path that you set out for yourself.

I have been thinking for a while that I needed a new purpose for this blog. Wandering endlessly between random writing can be fun, but lets face it, there is no real reason behind it. Today I was talking to a couple of people and realized, I need more purpose. I am still an Artist living in Philly. My 'art' has changed. My expression is more writing than acting and more introspective than outgoing, but it is still a story, a way of expressing beyond myself.

So as the title suggestions, I have a new purpose. I guess. By the end of the month I will hopefully have a better idea of what my goals are. (yes goals are different then purpose). My Purpose is to continue telling my story, through poetry, plays, and stories I write, along with views on life in Philly. I already have one goal, which is to get something performed or published by the end of the year. But that is very vague. I have so many projects I have started, that I really need to work and finish one.

Of course something else I would really like to do is involve all of you...(if anyone besides my mum reads this) and hopefully get more people to join in. So any suggestions on how to make this blog more interesting / fun to read / or even suggestions on goals are of course welcome.

My Joy and Crown

Philippians 4:1 "Therefore, my brothers, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, stand firm in the Lord, my beloved."

The dogs are out
the ones that eat flesh
who tear and disfigure
And I rejoice in the destruction
for the endurance of flesh
is short and eliding
I once believed in this world
in the politically correct
in the prison of liberation
in money and law
I put all my confidence
in things I could touch and see

But all that I have gained
my 'liberation', my rightness
every part of my flesh
It is loss, it is nothing
Rather I trust in endless patients
My gain death and suffering
all things are garbage
ready to be burnt
And I have true freedom
in something, someone, greater

The dogs are out
but their end is destruction
And I run forward
keep pressing onward
the goal is ahead
the past is behind

So dear ones, my family
my joy, my crown, my love
Stand on the Rock
the firm rock of your salvation
and fear not the wraith of the dogs.

Bring in the New Year

Once again it is a New Year. A new chance to make a fresh start. A time to make plans and decisions. Why is it that we feel the need to 'start fresh' in the middle of winter? Why is it that the beginning of a new year some how motivates us to actually make plans and propose change. So many goals are made for the new year. But how many of those goals do we actually achieve?

I heard some where that it take 21 days to learn a habit. meaning if you want to make something a habit it takes 21 straight days of doing that task (or whatever it is). That is basically a month of changing how you do something. If you can't make it 21 days, then you will never create that habit. The same thing goes for breaking a habit. Because in reality in order to break the habit, you have to create one to replace it.

So what if instead of making a bunch of goals ever new year, which we will forget about a week later, we concentrate on constant change? There are some many things in my life that I want to do better. Some many things that I need to change. So I am going to make a resolution this year, but I'm starting small. I'm going to write every day. Perhaps not always on this blog, but I will write something at least for 15 minutes ever day in this coming year. Who knows what new habit/goal I'll have in the next 21 days. I'm just going to worry about getting this one into my list of things I do every day. So look forward to a lot more writing (I hope).

Happy New Years! Bring it on 2012.