Family

Family is something that can continually surprise you. I know that this surprise is not always a good thing and in many people cases, its very bad. I have been blessed with a family that is amazing. Surprises from family are almost always a good thing. Moreover, I have been blessed with many friends here in Philly that are very much apart of my family. They are the community that I live in weekly here. The people who keep me sane, make me laugh, and pick me up when I need a hand. This weekend was a good weekend to make new friends, say good by to friends, see family (and more family), and remember just how great the people who make up my universe are. 

The weekend started with an early out at work and thus I got to hang out with my co-workers at a happy hour. It was great to meet and hang out. Besides its always a good idea to start a long weekend off with some fun. After starting with a high, I went to a bitter sweet low, but helping a good friend to move. It was exciting in a way, because she’s getting married. But it is also said because she is moving away from Philly to Butler PA, on the other side of the state. It was also hard because she lived on the third floor. Luckily there were guys to move the heavy stuff, but after walking up and down the stairs 10 times...

That night I went and watched MIB3, which was amazing. It was a little silly, but Will Smith is always fun to watch. I cried. I feel like I cry for most movies. My friend that I went with laughed at me. But I figure it is better to be a sap then to be without emotions. Even if being a complete sap means I cry basically at the drop of the hat. Movies, books, radio dramas, or even commercials.

Sunday my second cousin (once removed, I think), came from Lancaster to come to church with me. We then went to Long Wood Gardens. I’ve never been to the gardens. It was amazing. I love well tilled earth, organization, and a little mix of mayhem. These gardens are in general well organized and very thought out. But plants have a mind of there own and that is the mayhem part. Sure there was not as much wildness in the gardens as I would have liked. But it was there. Its the unplanned parts of gardens that are the best in my mind. Trees that grow in weird directions or the way one plant will be a slightly different color from its relatives around it.  After the gardens we drove to Lancaster and had dinner with a couple of my cousin’s friends and to play cards. It was great to talk and laugh and eat together. Then today my cousin and I drove to North East Maryland and Elkton, to visit with her brother and other family. We ate food, talked, went for a nice walk in the afternoon heat, and watched baseball. 

I’m tired. Talking to new people and the emotion of saying goodbye to old friends, mixed with traveling and a ton of walking has me whipped out. But its a good whipped out. And more importantly being around my family reminds me of why I love telling stories and doing theatre. We are story tellers. It is in our blood. Comedy and tragedy. Who we are is in a way our story. We share ourselves, we open our books and let others peak into our lives. It is way I love art, story telling, writing, and theatre.

The Devil on a Leash.

I keep the devil on a leash
he takes me on walks every day
Sometimes I forget he's follow'n me
follow, follow, follow'n me.

I keep the devil under my skin
he pulls me apart, its hard to win
sometimes I forget he's destroy'n me
destroy, destroy, destroy'n me.

I keep the devil out of my heart
he tries to get in, let him knock
sometimes he forgets I'm not his
I'm not, I'm not, I'm not his

I Need You...

I'm hiding inside

I'm scared of the sun

I'm scared of the light

I'm hiding alone

I got away from my friends

I ran away from their smiles

I'm hiding below

In this pit that I made

In this pit that I choose

I'm hiding because

Its easier then admitting

Its easier then needing You

I'm hiding inside

I'm all terrified

I'm not all right

I'm hiding alone

I'm not ready for You

I'm not free of this gloom

I'm hiding below

were the light can't get me

were the storm sure can

I'm hiding because

Admitting my need is...

Admitting Your Love is...

I'm hiding inside

I'm hiding alone

I'm hiding below

I'm hiding because

I know I need You...

Will You Shine?

I'm in a crowd totally alone

I'm just a ghost, 

wearing a face,

pretending I'm real

I'm just a shadow,

I'm in a crowd totally alone

The storm in my heart is building

pressure is mounting, climbing

the darkness is gathering, spreading

There is no light here. 

I'm just a facade built on air

I'm in a crowd totally alone

Will you shine?

even if its just a lightening flash

thundering and booming

through the storm.

Will you shine?

even if its just a bomb burst

violently ripping

through my soul

I'm in a crowd totally alone

don't worry I'm okay

I'll mirror your smile

I'll laugh to loud

I'm trying too hard

To feel alright.

I'm in a crowd that I know well

but I'm just a ghost

but I'm just a mirror

but I'm just a facade

but I'm just a shadow

aren't we all just smoke?

Would you shine?

shine brighter then the sun?

shine through my shadow

would you shine?

a flash, to light up my night

lightening to start a fire inside

Don't worry about me,

I'll be alright.

Don't worry about me

I'm just lost tonight.

Will you shine?

even if its just a lightening flash

thundering and crackling

through the storm.

Will you shine?

even if its just a bomb burst

violently ripping

through my soul

And I will praise You 

And I will praise You

Would you shine?

Would you shine?

Hell Earth, Earth Heaven

I.

Give me, give me
Take me, take me
hold on, let go
bash, brush, batter
ram, run, ruin, rust
slam, slit, slash, slut

Never let go,
never hold on
destroy and refuse
love to little
lust to much

In the endless twilight
see nothing but shadow.
see nothing but smoke
creatures broken
creatures bending
creatures, creatures
nothing but dust.

Give me everything you're not
take me away from life
hold on to your stuff
let go of your soul
hide me from the light
hide me from the light

Dust, smoke, shadow, film
we aren't real, we're just here
Just don't let the light
show other's I'm not solid
Just don't let the light
show I'm just a shadow

Bit, beat, batter, bash,
spit, swat, swear, sin
gash, godless, groveling
mash, miss, muster, master
hold, hit, hate, hell

II.

Dig a hole, hid your soul
build a tower, become a god
hit another to show your power
build a wall, to keep others out

me, myself, and I
I, myself, and me
we all enjoy ourselves
who needs anyone else?
we have our stuff
we have our TV
we don't need anyone
we don't need our souls

Dig a hole, hid your soul
blind yourself to lead the blind
become a mute, to silence others
harm others to see their pain
hurt yourself to make yourself real

me, myself, and I
I, myself, and me
we are at war, together
we are at war, against
each other.
we hate, me
we hate, myself
we hate, I
we hate

Dig a hole, so no one sees
that all you want is love
but all you get is lust
take from others
so they can't have
hide in the dark
hide in the shadow
take someone's light
put it out.

Me, myself, and I
we live on earth
all we have is earth
all we want is earth
all we get is earth

III.

was, is, will be
light the sky
sing a song
write a poem
hope for grace
cry for mercy
die for joy
die for all

earth and dust leave behind
fall on knees, water with tears
beat your chest, wash with blood

was, is, will be
dance with dirty feet and great joy
was, is, will be
sing with tears and great love
was, is, will be
shout meekly and with out fear

give your soul to heaven
give your body to earth
leave your stuff
give your stuff
hate your stuff
love God.

IV.

Light, glorious, light, painful, real, horribly wonderful, light
Light which shows our shadow.
Light which makes us real
Light which goes through our souls
Light which knows all of that we are

Glory, beautiful, deadly, life giving, glorious and solid
Glory, singing, merciful, slaughtered, alive
Glory, dancing, endless, tired-less, free
Glory which knows our dust and our stuff
Glory which knows our death and our tears

Joy, endlessly rolling endlessly pouring
Joy, shouting always, shouting with praise
Joy from our very being
Joy from our greatest sadness
Joy for our greatest hope and truth

Mercy, painfully bought in blood drops
Mercy, picking up our broken pieces
Mercy, feeding us its own body
Mercy, bleeding for our thirst
Mercy, never ending, never ending

Love, at the sun rises glorious coming
Love, that has been and will always be
Love, which spoke our dance to being
Love, which knows us and still loves
Love, which lived to die and lives again

Light, was, is, and will always shine
Glory, the very rocks sing their praise
Joy, endless and never stopping
Mercy, undeserved, overflowing
Love, the true truth lived for us.

My Very Own Darth

Warning: For those of you who arn't big Star War's fans you might want to skip this post.

I have been a Star War's fan since I was a little kid. It was one of those movies that got you and set your imagination on fire. Even now, although I bemoan the alterations, I still enjoy the movies. I love the characters and in some ways feel like they are old friends. But the best part of the movies are the villians. Complicated, Dark, and scary looking. I still remember how scared I was when Luke went down in the cave after Yoda told him not too. (I watch it now and wish I could get scared). Darth Vader had a sound, a physical presense and no problem killing someone. I loved him.

Skip forward to this week. One of my co-workers is now working from home and I got his Darth Vader. Its a figerine, about 9 inches tall. His cap is stuck billowing out behind him. His light saber is lit. And his hand is in front of him as if he's force choking someone. Right now he is standing on top of my tower on my desk. He looks out on the world spreading fear and hatred. He's amazing.

Polka in the Station

Every morning I take the El from 46th street to 15th. I'm normally half asleep. I usually am slight jostled by a number of people who are also half asleep and on their way to work. Some hold onto travel mugs of coffee as if they are lifelines. Others sleep away the commute, having trained their bodies to wake up at a certain stop. There is an order to things, although it is not spoke of. There are general rules about not touch other people (unless its really crowded then all bets are off). Together a mass of people get on and off and shuffle their way up stairs and down stairs and through turnstiles and around 'slow' people. Migration lines form, as if we were cars and there were lines dividing the lanes. Most morning I join in this migration from apartment to station to train to station to work, like a mindless ant. I'm following a predetermined, set path. I will follow basically the same path every work day with little deviation.

Now normally there are people playing music of some kind or singing in 15th street station. The acoustics in the station are amazing for music. I'm used to hearing music and walking past, with little thought. If I notice a certain song I might smile and find myself singing it later. It I hear something really horrible I steer clear and walk faster. I don't normally have time to stop and take it in, but I enjoy the change it brings to the monotonous commute. Then there is the man playing the polka on the accordion. 

Polka is not something that I grew up with, nor is it my favorite music. However, for some reason, I truly look forward to hearing it every morning. The older, slightly balding, man sits at the bottom of one staircase I go past every day. He sits and plays, truly lost in his music. Nodding thanks to anyone who drops a coin in his hat. Every morning I get off the train and join the throng of people pushing their way up the stairs. I get to the top of the stairs, get out through the turnstiles and start trying to hear the music. Normally I can't hear it till I'm almost to the staircase I have to go down. Every time I pass the accordion player I think of every one of us 'ants' stopping, taking a partner, and dancing the polka. 

I had got so used to this occurrence that I had not really thought of how much that little spark, in a rather dull morning routine, made my day. So yesterday when the accordion player was absent, I missed him. I wanted the polka, I wanted the whine of the accordion, the playful jump of the music. I wanted more then ever for everyone to just stop and break out in dance. No, I do not know the Polka, but man, most mornings I wish I did. And this morning I was very grateful that the accordion player was back playing at his normal spot. Now all I have to do is learn the Polka.