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.

Good Things

There are many good things in my life and many blessings that I do not deserve. Going home for Christmas was a good way to remind myself of that. My parents home is always a little crazy around holidays. This year was even more so then normal. First off my grandparents were up from Florida which was nice, but it meant that there were 8 people sleeping, eating, and taking showers in my parents house. Plus a dog and cat to get in the way of all those feet. Secondly there was no snow, but it was cold. So there was nothing fun outside to do, but there was really not enough room inside. Thirdly the construction of the new mud room was still very much in progress.

But despite all the crazyness, and too many people, there is a real blessing about being home. I got to see some friends (although not as many as I would have liked, nor for as long as I would have liked). I had a couple of fun talks with my grandparents. I got to hang out with my brothers. I pray, laugh, sing, joke, cry, dance, sigh, and be with some of the most amazing people I know. So many good things. And it makes me excited to see what is ahead in this coming year. It also makes me wonder what is ahead.

Let Me Die Aspiring

My Great, Great, Great, Great Grandfather S. Hall Young was an Alaskan Missionary during the gold rush. He was a close friend of John Muir and traveled with him. The poem below was one that Young had started before his sudden death and never finished.

Let me die, working
Still tackling plans unfinished, tasks undone!
Clean to its end, swift may my race be run.
No laggard steps, no faltering, no shirking;
Let me die, working!


Let me die, thinking.
Let me fare forth still with an open mind, 
Fresh secrets to unfold, new truths to find, 
my soul undimmed, alert, no question blinking;
Let me die thinking.


Let me die, laughing.
No sighing o'er past sins; they are forgiven.
spilled on this earth are all the joys of Heaven.
The wine of life, the cup of mirth still quaffing;
Let me die, Laughing!


Let me die, giving.


Let me die, aspiring.

I've recently rediscovered this poem. Part of me wants to know how he would have finished it. And the other part of me likes that it is unfinished. He was working on this very poem when he died. Its a beautifully sad reminder of the power of death and the joy we have in what we have been given. Spilled on the earth are all the joys of heaven.

Knitting

So this year I decided that I would knit several of my Christmas gifts. Part of me as always loved knitting. I'm not horribly good at it. I know how to knit and purl. I'm kind of good at following patterns. I'm really good at making a mistake and having to undo several rows in order to fix said mistake.

Knitting was one of those creative things that my mum taught me when I was younger. My dislike of having my mum telling me what to do, meant I did not really get very good at knitting. If I could go back in time I think I would tell my younger self to shut it. Funny now I wish I knew how to do more then just basic knitting.

Of course by the time I'm done with all my projects I'm going to be really good at basic patterns. At some point I might even get the guts to try my hand at socks or gloves. Of course I think I would need to get a lot better at following directions before that happens. Hopefully after Christmas I'll be able to share some pictures of my creations...

Christmas Flowers

One of my Christmas Cactuses has decided to bloom this year. I currently have three different plants and they seem to like to take turns flowering. I love these plants. Before they bloom they don't look like much. They are a bunch of oddly shaped leaves that build on themselves in rows. Then all of the sudden you have this little red dots at the end of one of the leaves. This dot is followed by several others. Slowly the dots grow until they break open into these cascades of red, pink, and white. And the flowers last for a long time. 

I love this plant. Most of the time they are just some cactus. They are impossible to kill (not that I have tried). They aren't necessarily beautiful. Then they flower and they are suddenly beautiful and interesting. Sometimes I feel like these plants. Most of the time I'm hiding waiting out, enjoying good food and sunlight. But I'm also waiting, waiting for the time to come when I can just kick peoples socks off. I feel like I'm still waiting to arrive. 

I wonder what else December has in store.