forty

i had this dream where i was facing a young man and he held

one of my hands and placed his
h
ead
on my chest. he was distress
ed and showed it through sweat on his forehead and glistening
eyes.
he asked "is everything going to be okay?"
an
d i said"
everything's going to be okay
everyday."

he tightened
his grip and mumbled
"everyday."

i woke,
up and my fingers were tingling.

no good heart

i've found myself in a constant state of need lately.

something written recently:

your coat hanger is empty

your worn hat is gone

your steps are slow and heavy

and your face is calm

you walk amongst the trees
into a clearing in the wood
you drop down to your knees

and cry “my heart is no good.”

i won’t pretend to call you stranger

when i see your face

i won’t pretend to call you friend

when i accept your embrace

i won’t pretend to call you nothin’ 

‘cause in my mind

your photograph is fadin’ 

in the harsh daylight

thick salty water 

washes over your thin mouth

remember when you left your father

for the promise of riches in the south

news has come
that you’re headin‘ home

you know you’ve got no one

you’ve got no more earth left to roam

i won’t pretend to call you stranger

when i see your face

i won’t pretend to call you friend

when i accept your embrace

i won’t pretend to call you nothin’ 

‘cause in my mind

your photograph is fadin’ 

in the harsh daylight

and i won’t pretend to call you lover

‘cause i’m through with bidin’ my time

my heart hasn’t found another

but these mountains are all mine

see the sun gives me grace

and the wind she speaks
and i’ve erased your face

from the cliffs and the creeks

i won’t pretend to call you stranger

when i see your face

i won’t pretend to call you friend

when i accept your embrace

i won’t pretend to call you nothin’ 

incredible things are happening in this world.

so I made a real live website for my photography. so this blog will be strictly writing.
yay.
also, in case you forgot, I have my flickr .
finally, I'm updating my facebook page.

so there you go.

nothing, really.

"and then,” she whispered (to no one in particular)”and then we see that in the end, all she misses are his kisses.” she bit her lip and half-closed her eyes.

thirty nine/journal entry


september 16th 2012

sometimes I get overwhelmed with words. they begin to suffocate me with their possibilities and their variety and their potency. I want to express my thoughts and heart-whispers, but the words confuse me. 
so then I take pictures.

a dull ache part two

a dull ache

.

unedited.

noisy

three little things.

a newer idea:


the rain it fell from the silver sky
you grabbed my hand and the thunder sounded
we ran down the trail towards and old oak tree
slipping on the stones and the shining leaves


a newer photograph:

a newer favorite song

thirty eight

"iamjusttiredofmissingyou."
the words echo inside my mind
crashing against the walls of my brain
causing my vision to blur and my eyes to smart

iamjusttiredofmissingyoutoo.
tired of having dreams where i feel you with me
i wake up to the sun shining cruelly on me
she reminds me that i am here and you are not

"iamjusttiredofmissingyou."
the words sound as far away from me as you are.

for myself.

"find what you love and let it kill you."
charles bukowski

ginger candy

discussing a kiss

fra angelico

skyping my brothers

being cold

sockos

water

coffee

apple and cinnamon oatmeal

rubber cement

chopin

letting things that I love kill me

radical obedience

dwelling on what that looks like in my life

night noises

asking why, how, when, and why not now?

seeking truth

procrastinating

night air

knowing I have an 8:15 class

dark circles around my eyes

scratchy throat

quiet

not knowing

and that being okay

doing something foolish just to remind myself I cannot take myself too seriously

the end

thirty seven

lazy monday morning
the sky is grey and white
you'll look out your window
and watch the birds take flight

their blurring bodies
their solemn song
their perpetual panic
their thriving throng

breath and blood escape you
as you prick your snowy finger
the satisfaction is painful
and the pleasure never lingers

your blurring body
your solemn song
your perpetual panic
your writhing wrong

a single leaf is tossed
to the ground by the cruel wind
all alone she travels
no companion can she find

her blurring body
her solemn song
her perpetual panic
her lamenting long

contribute to

Idiom
5.
contribute to, to be an important factor in; help to cause:

as I was sitting in my Early American Literature class today, I became frustrated.

there I was, in an air-conditioned classroom that was chalked full of people.
the question, "why am I here?"came into my mind.
don't get me wrong, in the past I have had some pretty strong anti-college sentiments. I'm not about to go into that.
I'm glad I'm here and I'm glad I'm at school.
that's not what sparked the question.
I did a little introspecting. I wasn't necessarily asking "why?"
I think what I was really asking myself was "what am I doing here?"

as a student starting a new semester, I am facing my own sort of helplessness. I am taking in everything around me (good and bad). I am learning skills and growing in knowledge. all of this I am doing to prepare myself for "real life."
I'm not really contributing to the world that much.
think about it.

why is that?
why can't I?
what does me contributing to the great big earth as a whole look like?

I haven't really answered those questions.
I could conclude this with a saying like "everywhere's a mission field" or "be the change" or something cliche like that.
I know those things ring true.
anyway, I'm not going to just stop at thinking about it.
remember project "Praedicare Veritatem"?
I'm going to re-launch it soon.
but this time I'm going to do it right.
I'll keep you posted.
in the meantime, tell your friends about this crazy girl with crazy ideas and a crazy blog.  you have no idea how much I would appreciate it.

also, contribute to the world around you. even if it is by just existing.

and all I had was a cell phone camera

story time:

so God always gives us what we want.
(I can imagine you raising your eyebrows to this daring statement)
however, what our soul often really longs for and wants is very different than what our flesh wants.
luckily, we have a good Father that listens to the longings of our heart and soul and does not listen to the longings of our flesh.
labor day weekend was hard for me. I was suffering acutely from PACSBIITB (otherwise known as "Pining After Chattanooga Syndrome Because It Is The Best"). I biked to downtown Johnson City on Saturday to find someplace to escape.
no such place was found.
on Sunday, I had a lovely afternoon with a new friend. it was beautiful, but it still didn't give me the peace I was kind of frantically searching for.
I rarely ever find peace in any situation until I know there is some place that I can make my refuge. I had countless places like that in Chattanooga. whenever I was restless or impulsive (which us a lot. like a lot a lot.) I would go to those places and think or process or create or do something to work out my restlessness.
labor day, I made a list of coffee shops to look into. you know, little locally owned and operated places where the drip coffee is served in mugs and the pastries are made daily.
that sort of place.
so I hopped in my car and began searching.
I thought I wanted to sit inside and write and think about home and how much I miss the river.
that was not what I wanted, however. I found that out when my search for a little homey coffee shop resulted in a bunch of names of places crossed out on a list.
while getting my hair trimmed on Saturday, the nice lady talked about how pretty the trails were at Erwin, Tn.
so after a series of disappointments, I got back in my car, turned on Courtney Marie, and put Erwin Tn into my GPS. it was pouring rain when I got on the interstate, but I didn't care.
I got on Rock Creek Rd and began to drive up. and up. and up.
I passed a trailhead and didn't stop.
I passed another one and didn't stop.
all of a sudden, the road led me down. and down.
I turned around as fast as I could and thought to myself "I just want to stand on the mountain side and feel alive."
I pulled off at the trail head, thinking I was just going to check it out.
the sign designated the trail as apart of the AT and a landmark called "beauty spot" was a reasonable distance.
so I, wearing a long skirt, hiked. and hiked. and while I was hiking rain fell. and the mountains misted. and everything around me sang a song of praise to its Maker.
then it hit me.
this is my escape. I thought I wanted to be holed up in a little man-made building, surrounded by strangers.
but my Father knew my soul wanted to be free in the mountain air, surrounded by trees and sky and His Spirit.
when I got to the "beauty spot", I sighed a sigh of elation and bliss.
I felt peace.
my restlessness was worked out.
it was as if the wind carried whispers that said "you'll be okay" and "you're where you should be" and "you are going to grow and grow here" and "look at the mountains!"
the end.

oh here are my cell phone camera pictures

thirty six

turn your eyes away as i kiss your face.
i don’t want you to see that mine are wide open,
unblinking as a doll in a clear glass case.
i ask myself what i want, then

disregarding my solemn thought,

i place my lips on your youthful eyes.
your body shifts, in my arms you are caught.
you tell me you love me, but my heart it shies

away from the idea of being loved.

i don’t want to be known.

you see, i’m afraid of being disappointing
i’m not afraid of being a lone.

color wheel.

I just finished painting my color wheel for color theory (as you can see). it was not as easy as some would assume.
the way color works is fascinating, so I thought I would share.
This is from my textbook (Color: a workshop approach, by David Hornung):

"Color is said to be contained within light, but the perception of color actually takes place in the mind. As waves of light are received in the lens of the eye, they are interpreted by the brain as color...A ray of sunlight can be conceived of as being divided, like a rainbow, into a continuum of color zones. Each color zone contains more gradients than the mind can distinguish. The boundaries between colors are blurred, not sharply delineated...The perception of colored surfaces is caused by the reflection of light from those surfaces to the eye...Lightwaves that are not reflected are ont perceived as color. (page 13)"

the wavelengths are, of course, created by the vibrations caused by the movement of electrons and protons. these vibrations are constant. interesting right?

thirty five

(this is an idea. it may or may not be developed later)
he looked at her with vacant eyes.
she looked at him with a crumbling heart.
they had once known each other truly and deeply.
no they are strangers merely sitting in the same room.
their lips touch and their arms embrace, but a mountain range and a wide river separate their heavy souls.
her eyes are waning like the moon.
his spirit is dying like the sun.