Little tree

A spider lives inside my head . Who weaves a strange and wondrous web . Of silken threads and silver strings . To catch all sorts of flying things . Like crumbs of thought and bits of smiles . And specks of dried-up tears . And dust of dreams that catch and cling . For years and years and years. 

                                                                                                                                                  Shel Silverstein

Loving this.

  

legend

day 81

"Sometimes I feel like that tree on the hill, where all the wind blows and the hail hits the hardest. All the people I love are down the side aways, sheltered under a great rock.
i am out of the fold.
standing alone in the sun and the snow, i feel like I am not part of the rest. they welcome me and are kind, but I see [them] as they sit together and it is like they have a certain way between them that is beyond me.

mother told me to make a special point to remember the best times of my life.
So I must remember this day. It is beautiful..."

--sarah (these is my words/nancy turner)

spare moments over the past few weeks have been spent chipping away at the growing list of books left unread on my shelves for more months than i'd probably allow myself to admit. i blame my new boyfriend, droid. - tv is so pissed.

somewhere in the midst of prime time premiers and a my 93 pt word on wordfued (bam!), i managed to fit an umpteenth reading of a favorite novel in for bookclub tomorrow night.

sarah is still one of my favorite characters. maybe because i share many of her same sentiments on the idea of happiness.


i've struggled my entire adult life to find words that could loosely define my idea of happiness to others. i've always known that bliss was never a state that appealed to me and all of my happiest moments seem to be accompanied with a tinge of melancholy...

much to my dismay we went camping this past weekend. i went exploring with the boys as soon as we got there, while spencer stayed to set up.
behind a huge log pile, at the end of a stoned path there were 2 lone trees. crooked and out of place, the grass matted more that 3 feet out around the base of their trunks. the late afternoon sun set a harsh contrast to their gnarled bark and the miles of tall pines behind them, calling me to lift the camera roped around my neck. i must remember this day. this day is beautiful.

...pictures are my mouthpiece, i've known this about myself, and this picture specifically is the closest i've come to any sort of definition of that which my brain finds difficult to verbally define.

this place is not a state but a process

day 39

they were wedded and it was beautiful.

i heard the start of hoppipolla play through the loudspeakers as i set foot on the wedding venue's spread of green lawn. i thought of how i made him promise he'd play it when i left. i paused, looked ahead. the bride sat crosslegged on the grass next to redheaded pigtails on a freckled face while boys in suits played bocce at the other end of the lawn. i bent down to take a picture - a desperate attempt to pocket just how big the moment felt. - then i turned to stare at the rest of them, and not my idea of them, but them, held in all white chairs, circled around a pile of kids. i closed my eyes, felt a familiar pain in my chest sink to my knees, and smiled. 
that was it. memory's tainted cloud lightened, an answer. as if permission was granted to experience happy things.

when i [ask]...i get no answer. but a rather special sort of no answer. it is not the locked door, but more like a silent, compassionate gaze. as though He shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question. like, 'peace, child; you don't understand.'

--a grief observed (c.s. lewis)

i told him, i just had the most emotional moment of my life.
he laughed. with me, i think. i didn't need to say anything else.

   

...mother Eve thought [knowledge was a fine thing]; but she smarted so severely for hers, that most of her daughters have been afraid of it since.

day 24

i've been listening to ted dekker's black, red, white trilogy while simultaneously skimming through eve and the choice made in eden, by beverly campbell. - i say skimming because reading anything other than a novel takes me months to get through. i prefer fiction. - since i'd never heard of dekker* before and was unaware of the trilogy's premise, the parallels between the two have been a pleasant surprise.


*please don't look him up. i just did and if i had earlier, i would have never picked up any of his work. he looks like a youth speaker about to jump off a stage, ready to pass out hi-fives up and down the aisles.
no thanks.

   

green plastic watering can

day 12.

"What does that mean -- tame?"

"It is an act too often neglected", said the fox. "It means to establish ties."

"My life is very monotonous," the fox said. "I hunt chickens: men hunt me. All the chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike. But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. And look...The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me. The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back to the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wheat in the wind..."

So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near...

"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."
"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you..."
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"But now you are going to cry." said the little prince.
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"Then it has done you no good at all!"
"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields."

--- antoine de saint-exupery (the little prince)

one of my very favorites.

  

lo-fi is the new hi-fi

day 2.

catching rain.
sometimes life is just good. really, really good.

"no lists of things to be done. the day providential to itself. the hour.
there is no later. this is later....
the frailty of everything revealed. old and troubling issues resolved into nothingness and night.
look around you. ever is a long time.
but the boy knew what he knew.
that ever is no time at all."
--cormac mccarthy (the road)

ah, mr mccarthy, our hats are off to you, good sir.

first day of fall

i now sympathize with my mother, who for my entire life served toast with only a spot of butter in the center of the bread instead of lovingly spreading the butter out evenly from crust to crust.
who has time to worry about spreading the butter? please. we're lucky it made it on the toast at all.
but fall is here and summer officially over. and even with the days slowly becoming shorter, production seems to pick up as the weather grows cooler. spirits are up and everyone(me) is a bit more patient and just overall happier.
happy, happy first day of fall -- it couldn't have come at a better time.


best reads this summer:
in cold blood. truman capote
catching fire. suzanne collins

worst:
the forest of hands and teeth (what a huge disappointment). carrie ryan
the hourglass door. lisa mangum

i'm having a YA love affair with the future

ever since i fell in love with The Road last year i've been getting my post-apocalyptic narrative fix in any way i can.

these are the YA books i've read as of late that are actually worth mentioning. (adult books scare me.)

Genesis by bernard beckett: it's a tad sci-fi, so if you're into that...which i kinda am.

Unwind by neal shusterman: fast-paced and semi-thought provoking.

The Hunger Games by suzanne collins: so good. i read this back in november and immediately made a mental countdown chain until the release of book 2 this fall. pre-order off amazon: check.

now that my classes are finally nearing an end for the semester, i've dusted off my library card and put in my max of 5 holds at the front desk. next on my YA future fix: The Forest of Hands and Teeth by carrie ryan. i've read mixed reviews on it, but the nasty 1 star rating, of a very obviously disappointed adolescent, referring to the book as "...a subtle mix of the movie the village and 28 days later" is really what sealed the deal for me. a safe wall guarding all of the inhabitants inside from a mass plague of flesh eating zombies? yes, please.

happy summer reading.

as the crow flies

in a post-apocalyptic setting, cormac mccarthy delivers a haunting world where father and son ("...each the other's world entire") must make their way through together. mccarthy's writing keeps pace with no real chapters and short lyrical-like verses. it's a fairly easy read and worth every minute you spend on it.


the road is easily one of the best books i've read in a long time.

my only complaint is that viggo mortensen is starring in the film that's due to come out next year. he kind of makes my stomach ill. (oh well. i'm sure i'll get over it.)

the history of love

"i was never a man of great ambition.
i cried too easily.
i didn't have a head for science.
words often failed me.
while others prayed i only moved my lips."
---leo gursky


this is a book you may need to read twice. my first go at it felt more like reading a book of poems than a novel. a page here, a page there, a lot of highlighting and a few areas of note jotting. a month later and i'm nearing the final chapter, realizing i don't have the slightest idea of what's been happening in the lives of these characters i fell in love with. i was much too busy admiring their pretty words and quirky personalities. my mind just couldn't keep up with the plot's complex twists and turns. so, for fear of spoiling the ending, up on the shelf it went until i could find the time to give it my undivided attention. after all, it deserved it.

10 months later and i found the time. started and finished it last weekend. wow. so. great. i love story lines that delicately weave together the lives of complete strangers. it's humbling to realize how we are all, either directly or indirectly, a small part of each other. (i'm no hippie, but the imagery of that thought makes me wanna go grab my tambourine and start singing kum bai ya.)

so good. read it.