It occured to me, between procrasting my paper and a lonely friday morning, that I have not posted music in the last week or so.
So... enough said.
Have a good one.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
ten pages left
Precursor: I am listening to "Justice" right now.
Spring Break: Chapter one.
On Friday some friends and I drove into Vancouver to see Xavier Rudd. After the consumption of some very overpriced sketchy burgers we walked a block away from where we parked to the Queen Elizabeth theatre.
The concert opened with a guitarist with a jamaican/australian accent, who sang songs about nature. Kelsey, Greg and I exchanged bad jokes to each other while sitting on a balcony waiting for Xavier to kick it.
The show itself was amazing, save for a rather drab audience sitting in the balcony with us, compiled mostly of chachy guys who brought their girlfriends for the sole purpose of sitting around complaining about the people who were dancing.
I was thoroughly impressed by the many drums, native sounds, diggeree doos (which is spelled wrong) and overall excitement. At one point 60 or so kids rushed the stage, and were pushed off by the large security force, all two of them, which was fun enough in itself to watch.
(pause briefly to acknowlede my very annoying self-reflective dry writing style... noted).
(note, also, that I have had too much coffee and am, thus, running out of creative energy to finish this embarassingly boring entry which, like those stories actors tell in bad DVD commentaries, only I will find interesting).
Yesterday Brad and I drove into Seattle to see Lifehouse- a band which I have been listening to since high school. After realizing the venue was nowhere near Pike Place, and realizing we had 5 hours to waste, we shared a pint at a brewery across the street from Safeco Field. Then it was off to the show.
The opending act was HoneyHoney, a band with a guitarist that looks exactly like Andrew Stock and a singer that looks sort of like Kendra Wilson.
The next act was this guy named Matt Nathanson, an artist who had a big head (literally) and really dry humor.
And then Lifehouse. I think the two best moments of the evening were the first ten seconds of their set- watching Jason wander out of a purple-lit cloud of smoke up to the mic (beautiful) and watching Bryce rock the lead vocals of "Bridges".
I was definately close enough to see the hair on Bryce's face. Except he was pretty clean shaven that day so there was no real hair. Even so, If he did have facial hair I would have been close enough to see it.
As well, I loved getting to sing every word in "Am I ever going to find out", secretly wishing I could stand on stage and sing the backing vocals.
It is a very different experience getting to see a band you have studied for years but have never actually met. Standing on stage it felt Like Jason, Sean, and Bryce were close friends I had known for years, and I kept waiting for one of them to wave at me, and say "Hey, Adam. Glad you came".
Yes. That is creepy. Even so.
Speaking of me being a weirdo, before the show started I struck up a conversation with Michelle Ben about the Backstreet Boys. I told her how I had to go to 5 different record stores trying to find their first CD when it first came out, and how I tried to buy tickets to one of their shows but it sold out in 30 seconds (I don't think that would happen anymore).
All in all, a very good time.
Today I woke up about ten, wrote some notes for a paper I am trying to write this week, talked to Reide Norman for a bit, and then did not feel like writing anymore...
Which sucks, because I have to give a youth talk tommorow about food.
So, that is how I managed to see two concerts in four days. Now I am broke.
Alas.
I probably have something important to do right now. I have to figure out what. See you later.
- Adam
Spring Break: Chapter one.
On Friday some friends and I drove into Vancouver to see Xavier Rudd. After the consumption of some very overpriced sketchy burgers we walked a block away from where we parked to the Queen Elizabeth theatre.
The concert opened with a guitarist with a jamaican/australian accent, who sang songs about nature. Kelsey, Greg and I exchanged bad jokes to each other while sitting on a balcony waiting for Xavier to kick it.
The show itself was amazing, save for a rather drab audience sitting in the balcony with us, compiled mostly of chachy guys who brought their girlfriends for the sole purpose of sitting around complaining about the people who were dancing.
I was thoroughly impressed by the many drums, native sounds, diggeree doos (which is spelled wrong) and overall excitement. At one point 60 or so kids rushed the stage, and were pushed off by the large security force, all two of them, which was fun enough in itself to watch.
(pause briefly to acknowlede my very annoying self-reflective dry writing style... noted).
(note, also, that I have had too much coffee and am, thus, running out of creative energy to finish this embarassingly boring entry which, like those stories actors tell in bad DVD commentaries, only I will find interesting).
Yesterday Brad and I drove into Seattle to see Lifehouse- a band which I have been listening to since high school. After realizing the venue was nowhere near Pike Place, and realizing we had 5 hours to waste, we shared a pint at a brewery across the street from Safeco Field. Then it was off to the show.
The opending act was HoneyHoney, a band with a guitarist that looks exactly like Andrew Stock and a singer that looks sort of like Kendra Wilson.
The next act was this guy named Matt Nathanson, an artist who had a big head (literally) and really dry humor.
And then Lifehouse. I think the two best moments of the evening were the first ten seconds of their set- watching Jason wander out of a purple-lit cloud of smoke up to the mic (beautiful) and watching Bryce rock the lead vocals of "Bridges".
I was definately close enough to see the hair on Bryce's face. Except he was pretty clean shaven that day so there was no real hair. Even so, If he did have facial hair I would have been close enough to see it.
As well, I loved getting to sing every word in "Am I ever going to find out", secretly wishing I could stand on stage and sing the backing vocals.
It is a very different experience getting to see a band you have studied for years but have never actually met. Standing on stage it felt Like Jason, Sean, and Bryce were close friends I had known for years, and I kept waiting for one of them to wave at me, and say "Hey, Adam. Glad you came".
Yes. That is creepy. Even so.
Speaking of me being a weirdo, before the show started I struck up a conversation with Michelle Ben about the Backstreet Boys. I told her how I had to go to 5 different record stores trying to find their first CD when it first came out, and how I tried to buy tickets to one of their shows but it sold out in 30 seconds (I don't think that would happen anymore).
All in all, a very good time.
Today I woke up about ten, wrote some notes for a paper I am trying to write this week, talked to Reide Norman for a bit, and then did not feel like writing anymore...
Which sucks, because I have to give a youth talk tommorow about food.
So, that is how I managed to see two concerts in four days. Now I am broke.
Alas.
I probably have something important to do right now. I have to figure out what. See you later.
- Adam
Thursday, February 21, 2008
sunrise, sunrise
It has been a long (long) week. It has also been the first week of spring.
Today was our last day of classes before "reading week", so I'm wrapping up the week with many a social gathering. Some friends and I put on a photography night last night, with amazing spice teas and paintings. Tonight I'm co-hosting a concert for a friend.
For Spring Break (aka, reading week)... I don't know. I can try to have a ten pager done, as well getting a lot of reading done, but those things are always in the air, never fully planned or followed through as originally planned.
This week, to explain the many details, I have;
1) Held someone close
2) Painted
3) Read poems under a tree that me and some friends named "Desmond".
4) Felt angry and frustrated at myself.
5) not done homework.
6) Smoked a clove cigar
7) Listened to Norah Jones surrounded by friends and the smell of coffee
8) Printed beautiful photographs, taken by friends. Wished I could show you.
9) Listened to "My Morning Jacket" in the morning.
10) Laughed
So... Its been a lot of friends. Which is always good.
I owe you some pictures, or perhaps some more good music. My computer is still broken, as are all of my lent goals for this year. It is a great sense of defeat as well as a longing for forgiveness and redemption.
Funny how that works.
- Adam
PS- I'm seeing Lifehouse and Xavier Rudd this week. Woot.
Today was our last day of classes before "reading week", so I'm wrapping up the week with many a social gathering. Some friends and I put on a photography night last night, with amazing spice teas and paintings. Tonight I'm co-hosting a concert for a friend.
For Spring Break (aka, reading week)... I don't know. I can try to have a ten pager done, as well getting a lot of reading done, but those things are always in the air, never fully planned or followed through as originally planned.
This week, to explain the many details, I have;
1) Held someone close
2) Painted
3) Read poems under a tree that me and some friends named "Desmond".
4) Felt angry and frustrated at myself.
5) not done homework.
6) Smoked a clove cigar
7) Listened to Norah Jones surrounded by friends and the smell of coffee
8) Printed beautiful photographs, taken by friends. Wished I could show you.
9) Listened to "My Morning Jacket" in the morning.
10) Laughed
So... Its been a lot of friends. Which is always good.
I owe you some pictures, or perhaps some more good music. My computer is still broken, as are all of my lent goals for this year. It is a great sense of defeat as well as a longing for forgiveness and redemption.
Funny how that works.
- Adam
PS- I'm seeing Lifehouse and Xavier Rudd this week. Woot.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
the climbing way
Ok friends, I realize the irony of posting a Raine Maida video on a post devoted to Matt Good... but even so.
I picked up Raine Maida's solo album today, while on mini-road trip to put up posters for the Brad Steeves concert, and pick up the new City and Colour album.
It was an eventful half hour, or so (Brad's show is Feb 21st, 7pm, at CBC. If you live anywhere remotely close to Abbotsford, which more than half of you who read this don't, check this one out).
In other news, I am now broke, and hungry. On the positive side, my experience with fasting has made me less randomly hungry, I have new music (that did not cost and arm and a face, like most Christian albums) and I have pounds of coffee to keep me not-hungry in my bouts of not eating.
Speaking of that, to remove this conversation from my attempts at self-humour, I have been thinking a lot about this organization called Rice Raiser, a group that provides ways for families to eat, at ridiculously affordable prices.
For example, in Sierra Leone, $20.00 provides lunches and snacks for 3 students for one year. In Bangledesh, $1 buys vegetable seeds for 7 families.
So... I'm not really broke, or hungry, by any means in the grand scheme of things. I know music is very much a influential and important part of my life. and food is neccesary for survival.
Now, to what degree can I build a life that offers the greatest amount of sharing, generosity, that builds towards this idea of "enough" that Shane Claiborne talks about, with my love for music and the need for people to eat?
Hmm. So, that is the question I have to leave myself, for now.
Lets talk more about this... over tea. I have had too much coffee today.
Later.
I picked up Raine Maida's solo album today, while on mini-road trip to put up posters for the Brad Steeves concert, and pick up the new City and Colour album.
It was an eventful half hour, or so (Brad's show is Feb 21st, 7pm, at CBC. If you live anywhere remotely close to Abbotsford, which more than half of you who read this don't, check this one out).
In other news, I am now broke, and hungry. On the positive side, my experience with fasting has made me less randomly hungry, I have new music (that did not cost and arm and a face, like most Christian albums) and I have pounds of coffee to keep me not-hungry in my bouts of not eating.
Speaking of that, to remove this conversation from my attempts at self-humour, I have been thinking a lot about this organization called Rice Raiser, a group that provides ways for families to eat, at ridiculously affordable prices.
For example, in Sierra Leone, $20.00 provides lunches and snacks for 3 students for one year. In Bangledesh, $1 buys vegetable seeds for 7 families.
So... I'm not really broke, or hungry, by any means in the grand scheme of things. I know music is very much a influential and important part of my life. and food is neccesary for survival.
Now, to what degree can I build a life that offers the greatest amount of sharing, generosity, that builds towards this idea of "enough" that Shane Claiborne talks about, with my love for music and the need for people to eat?
Hmm. So, that is the question I have to leave myself, for now.
Lets talk more about this... over tea. I have had too much coffee today.
Later.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
the colder side of land and sea
Josiah Leming, One last song
The ship was sinking; we were drinking, singing one last song,
Casting our gold into the ocean.
You grabbed a bucket, started screaming, "Come on, come on",
Trying to slow the downward motion.
Back in the kingdom, we were kings and queens and Oh, so strong
That God himself could not contain us.
We never thought we'd be the shorter half of sword and gun.
Now god himself could never save us.
Waves of silver, waves of gold
Are coming now to take me,
To separate my body from my soul
And Jesus leaves or takes me.
Hopes of heaven, fears of hell
Tell me, what's the chance I'll make it.
All my other plans have failed,
And all this time I've faked it.
We started sinking, drinking water from the open sea
Losing our bodies to the ocean.
You grabbed my hand and started screaming, "rescue me"
Together fight the downward motion.
Back in the kingdom we were kings and queens and Oh, so strong
That god himself just had to show us.
We never thought we'd see the colder side of land and sea
But he's the only one who knows us.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
blue sky, white snow
So, I've been thinking a lot lately. Surprisingly.
My computer has been broken for about a week now. Because of this, I have a lot less dead time- time usually reserved for hours on facebook, and downloading films/music.
Now my time has been filled with reading, of all things, and putting together insights.
One thing I thought about today: In Rock Faith and Pop Culture we talked about rebellion. I started to think, but did not share with the class, this idea that a lot of the artists I listen to rebel in ways that allow growth and maturity.
One of the ways "rebellion" was described today was "unconventional creativity" - moving away from cliche music making, to exploring new ways of doing music.
I started listening to Matt Good's new album, "Hospital Music", recently- and album Good wrote after an overdose, and a week in a hospital. In interviews Good talks about being diagnosed with Bi-Polar. All of this produces a raw, uncomfortable, honesty in Hospital Music.
I think this form of rebellion has a lot to do with musical integrity. If you really want to make money as an artist, sell hundreds of CDs, you aren't supposed to write songs about your personal state. Culture itself tells us that being too personal is weird, that deep pain is something to be worked out in private.
Our culture, I am discovering, is less about personal, sincere, honesty and more about being generalized, an average person... being a statistic instead of a person. Rebellion is, I believe, about making music that seeks to questions one's personal state and heart, rather than partake in a consumer-culture saying "this is how you are supposed to write, and live".
In this case Good rebels by writing deeply personal work, rather than write about a car he just bought, a bitter feeling towards an ex, or a late-night in a club. As Sia, another artist I'm listening to, explains, "Some people have real problems".
Thanks for reading. Let's talk.
- Adam
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
new concerts and old friends
Items of further discussion which may/may not merit a comment:
1) My computer is broken. Which is sucky, because it contains every poem and paper I have written to date. Something that costs 1200 bucks should last longer than two years (damn technology).
One of the files on my computer is a presentation I'm doing tommorow. Which scares the hell out of me. Alas.
2) I'm getting better at my voice lessons. I stated tapping into my deep, rich voice lost years ago by teenage insecurity and discouragement. Hitting a difficult not is a great feeling, I must say.
Apparently the key to singing is breathing, and relxing one's face.
3) Today I listened to Ryan Adams (Love is Hell), Death Cab (Transantlanticism) and City and Colour (Sometime... new album coming out soon. woot).
4) Lifehouse is finally in town again. By in town I mean in Seattle, Feb 25th. They're playing at the Showbox, a venue so intimate you can see the hair on the artist's face. Its built right next to Pike Place Market, one of the most beautiful places I know, where you can sip espresso with friends in an artsy park overlooking a great mass of water.
I am super excited for this one.
5) I'm also seeing Xavier Rudd sometime soon.
So, that is my day. I have about 5 books to read, 3 papers to write, and severel memories to capture on paper in the next little while. Not to mention a piece computer than needs to work long enough to let me get my files. Bah.
I complain too much, evidently.
6) It was snowing today. At first lightly, then somewhat heavier. Now its lightly raining, turning dark. This is the first time, in a long time, that I don't care. This concerns me.
Somehow my daily life has turned into ignoring the beautiful aspects of snow, piling up on tree branches, covering the ground. Somehow in the mess of reading and writing I have disregarded something with strength.
I think what frustrates me the most is when things do work the way they are meant to... when life acts out of character. Things like computers, built for the sake of expiring after two years.
Sigh. Ok, I admit I have made too big a deal out of this. I need some kind of renewal, from dependance on finite things that prove unreliable. I don't need something more, as much as I need something with more depth.
Ok. I've said too much. I need to go do some reading. Or some conversing. Or something. This day needs rescuing.
Later
----------------
"...God, my soul needs setting free,
I can't keep up with this uncertainty."
1) My computer is broken. Which is sucky, because it contains every poem and paper I have written to date. Something that costs 1200 bucks should last longer than two years (damn technology).
One of the files on my computer is a presentation I'm doing tommorow. Which scares the hell out of me. Alas.
2) I'm getting better at my voice lessons. I stated tapping into my deep, rich voice lost years ago by teenage insecurity and discouragement. Hitting a difficult not is a great feeling, I must say.
Apparently the key to singing is breathing, and relxing one's face.
3) Today I listened to Ryan Adams (Love is Hell), Death Cab (Transantlanticism) and City and Colour (Sometime... new album coming out soon. woot).
4) Lifehouse is finally in town again. By in town I mean in Seattle, Feb 25th. They're playing at the Showbox, a venue so intimate you can see the hair on the artist's face. Its built right next to Pike Place Market, one of the most beautiful places I know, where you can sip espresso with friends in an artsy park overlooking a great mass of water.
I am super excited for this one.
5) I'm also seeing Xavier Rudd sometime soon.
So, that is my day. I have about 5 books to read, 3 papers to write, and severel memories to capture on paper in the next little while. Not to mention a piece computer than needs to work long enough to let me get my files. Bah.
I complain too much, evidently.
6) It was snowing today. At first lightly, then somewhat heavier. Now its lightly raining, turning dark. This is the first time, in a long time, that I don't care. This concerns me.
Somehow my daily life has turned into ignoring the beautiful aspects of snow, piling up on tree branches, covering the ground. Somehow in the mess of reading and writing I have disregarded something with strength.
I think what frustrates me the most is when things do work the way they are meant to... when life acts out of character. Things like computers, built for the sake of expiring after two years.
Sigh. Ok, I admit I have made too big a deal out of this. I need some kind of renewal, from dependance on finite things that prove unreliable. I don't need something more, as much as I need something with more depth.
Ok. I've said too much. I need to go do some reading. Or some conversing. Or something. This day needs rescuing.
Later
----------------
"...God, my soul needs setting free,
I can't keep up with this uncertainty."
Friday, January 25, 2008
I hide in my bed with the lights on the floor
I thought, since I finished a paper this morning, that I would sit around reading small portions of books online. I came across a story called "Ella Enchanted".... and I am in love! I now remember why children's books are so full of heart.
There is, indeed, a huge difference between being "childish" and "child-like". Being Child-Like allows you to find out something you didn't notice before.Like how fun sitting under a ray of sun next to couch can be.
the difference between fantasy and imagination- fantasy being the lesser of the two
a night
another fairy tale.
wash me in your
open arms.
lost. lost in
bridges, crossing
to the castle.
princess,
take my hand like
imagination.
another timeless night.
the air is
only moving verse.
green and soil,
gods and creatures of a
smaller narrative.
a night,
an amour of
enchanting parchment,
a paper dress.
paper covers, quiet skimming.
calm aroma,
new white pages.
the good stories are those that
open our arms.
-those that make the
same world more captivating.
those that brings us more
into life,
rather than escape.
PS- I think for Lent I'm going to give up typing out my thoughts online. ie- here, and FACEBOOK. I think that my habit of putting thoughts online has become less "every once and awhile when I have something good to say" to "all the time because I feel like it".
Alas. facebook is a lame place to leave poems lying around.
See you.
There is, indeed, a huge difference between being "childish" and "child-like". Being Child-Like allows you to find out something you didn't notice before.Like how fun sitting under a ray of sun next to couch can be.
the difference between fantasy and imagination- fantasy being the lesser of the two
a night
another fairy tale.
wash me in your
open arms.
lost. lost in
bridges, crossing
to the castle.
princess,
take my hand like
imagination.
another timeless night.
the air is
only moving verse.
green and soil,
gods and creatures of a
smaller narrative.
a night,
an amour of
enchanting parchment,
a paper dress.
paper covers, quiet skimming.
calm aroma,
new white pages.
the good stories are those that
open our arms.
-those that make the
same world more captivating.
those that brings us more
into life,
rather than escape.
PS- I think for Lent I'm going to give up typing out my thoughts online. ie- here, and FACEBOOK. I think that my habit of putting thoughts online has become less "every once and awhile when I have something good to say" to "all the time because I feel like it".
Alas. facebook is a lame place to leave poems lying around.
See you.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
what the light was like
The days still feel like weeks, with this whole not eating thing. Which, in many ways, is only getting frustrating.
My roommates were both participating with me in this fast, and they both went off it yesterday (well, I kind of went off it myself, via the eating of two loaves of bread, but I decided to go back on). One of my roommates decided to clean house, eating every bit of immediately accessible food! (including peanut butter, orange juice, and some chili I made).
My other roommate bought a pizza. Evidently, we all suck at nutrition. In other news, I started singing lessons last week, and I am a horribly self-conscious person, prone to starting something, getting really good at it, then quitting because I start to feel too insecure... ever since high school (that particular list includes guitar, football, shotput, writing prose, and swing dancing).
This, I have promised myself, will not be one of those times. And now, a poem that has nothing to do with what I just said (until next time):
three small lights
my life is like three small Christmas lights,
(and many other things).
holding the house together with low glowing warmth.
keeping things together.
all our friends are getting married,
and I'll stay much the same.
I'll go on trying to be fine with my life,
always feeling about halfway there.
I'll be one who keeps the lights on tonight,
not the one trying hard not to cry.
even when clouds part, or light covers window,
and I'll find her soon, I know I will,
the unassuming girl in a white paper dress.
We'll wake up the same, though tomorrow I'm still single-
we'll pick up books and play words in the morning,
wake up next to metaphors and verse.
the tracing of arms and quiet hands,
the hiding and painting mystery in covers.
all my lights are making plans.
We'll all stay friends, then love somehow happens.
I'll serve coffee downtown, toss rocks at nameless shapes of water,
and I'll forget everything I've assumed about "beautiful".
We're all still trying to figure out what love is like.
My roommates were both participating with me in this fast, and they both went off it yesterday (well, I kind of went off it myself, via the eating of two loaves of bread, but I decided to go back on). One of my roommates decided to clean house, eating every bit of immediately accessible food! (including peanut butter, orange juice, and some chili I made).
My other roommate bought a pizza. Evidently, we all suck at nutrition. In other news, I started singing lessons last week, and I am a horribly self-conscious person, prone to starting something, getting really good at it, then quitting because I start to feel too insecure... ever since high school (that particular list includes guitar, football, shotput, writing prose, and swing dancing).
This, I have promised myself, will not be one of those times. And now, a poem that has nothing to do with what I just said (until next time):
three small lights
my life is like three small Christmas lights,
(and many other things).
holding the house together with low glowing warmth.
keeping things together.
all our friends are getting married,
and I'll stay much the same.
I'll go on trying to be fine with my life,
always feeling about halfway there.
I'll be one who keeps the lights on tonight,
not the one trying hard not to cry.
even when clouds part, or light covers window,
and I'll find her soon, I know I will,
the unassuming girl in a white paper dress.
We'll wake up the same, though tomorrow I'm still single-
we'll pick up books and play words in the morning,
wake up next to metaphors and verse.
the tracing of arms and quiet hands,
the hiding and painting mystery in covers.
all my lights are making plans.
We'll all stay friends, then love somehow happens.
I'll serve coffee downtown, toss rocks at nameless shapes of water,
and I'll forget everything I've assumed about "beautiful".
We're all still trying to figure out what love is like.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
I am still running
Before you read this, consider listening to this instead.
Still Running
A sunny day with blue sky. The sun, slightly warm, glowing in a light shade on the couch. These are the shades of waking up ten years old in a small bunk-bed, my room in a basement in Nanaimo, one of the 7 or so houses I lived in growing up.
A lot of this past year has been distancing myself from my childhood, but still gripping onto, trying to rescue, the child-like aspects that make simple things like sunlight so warm and loveable. There are a great many things of my childhood I am blessed to hold onto, things that the triviality of life will not erase. Working a 9-5, raising kids, paying rent- none of these things should ever / are not meant to replace the first flowers of joy our childhoods birthed. Rather, the rest of one's life is, ideally, supposed to be learning how to love old things like sunlight in new ways, finding something about sunlight we didn't notice before, for every new stage we live in.
I'll leave it at that... because I really am having a hard time finishing this thought (Tuesdays suck).
Lets talk about this in person, my two or three readers, most of which live too far away. Or... talk to someone else about it, until then.
Later.
Still Running
A sunny day with blue sky. The sun, slightly warm, glowing in a light shade on the couch. These are the shades of waking up ten years old in a small bunk-bed, my room in a basement in Nanaimo, one of the 7 or so houses I lived in growing up.
A lot of this past year has been distancing myself from my childhood, but still gripping onto, trying to rescue, the child-like aspects that make simple things like sunlight so warm and loveable. There are a great many things of my childhood I am blessed to hold onto, things that the triviality of life will not erase. Working a 9-5, raising kids, paying rent- none of these things should ever / are not meant to replace the first flowers of joy our childhoods birthed. Rather, the rest of one's life is, ideally, supposed to be learning how to love old things like sunlight in new ways, finding something about sunlight we didn't notice before, for every new stage we live in.
I'll leave it at that... because I really am having a hard time finishing this thought (Tuesdays suck).
Lets talk about this in person, my two or three readers, most of which live too far away. Or... talk to someone else about it, until then.
Later.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Evenings
an insight on fasting: eating food and sharing community cannot be separated. Sharing food is essential to time spent together. Its interesting.
more or less / evenings
Pt. 1
a new CD to call my own,
something I haven't had in quite awhile.
I mass produce most of music collection.
I almost forget which parts were free.
And I forgot what I was going to do today
somewhere between feeling broken and two cups of coffee.
We seem to live in a state of unresolved sadness,
And that is the very thing that makes us human.
apparently.
My first cup since I started this,
something I haven't tasted since Sunday.
I can't decide just yet if this is numbing the pain or
if its just me trying to feel fine about my life
for once.
My head is spinning because of the coffee,
or maybe its the long night alone again.
Thieving and wandering in creativity.
listening just makes it easier living with myself.
Pt 2.
I read some old poems I wrote last year.
And I decided I might stop talking to "you",
a vague person I refer to.
I seem to forget who I'm talking to sometimes.
or I just like the idea of having someone to give words to.
I write much like I take adventures,
always wishing i could share the story, at that moment.
I don't want to keep all this to myself.
Pt 3
Its been a very interesting 4 years.
I'm different, but the same.
I still feel the constant need for love.
But now I'm starting to know why.
I can't stand to be this honest and still not feel confident.
I'm more a fan of feeling specific and concise.
I almost forgot I wasn't eating this week.
Somewhere between feeling unfinished and two cups of coffee.
another evening of friends with pizza would be nice
right about now. or when this thing is over.
A nice fire and some candles, some hot chocolate, a movie
and some awkward glances. We're both wondering how I feel.
...
I should probably get some reading done now, with all this free time. Let's hang out later.
- Adam
more or less / evenings
Pt. 1
a new CD to call my own,
something I haven't had in quite awhile.
I mass produce most of music collection.
I almost forget which parts were free.
And I forgot what I was going to do today
somewhere between feeling broken and two cups of coffee.
We seem to live in a state of unresolved sadness,
And that is the very thing that makes us human.
apparently.
My first cup since I started this,
something I haven't tasted since Sunday.
I can't decide just yet if this is numbing the pain or
if its just me trying to feel fine about my life
for once.
My head is spinning because of the coffee,
or maybe its the long night alone again.
Thieving and wandering in creativity.
listening just makes it easier living with myself.
Pt 2.
I read some old poems I wrote last year.
And I decided I might stop talking to "you",
a vague person I refer to.
I seem to forget who I'm talking to sometimes.
or I just like the idea of having someone to give words to.
I write much like I take adventures,
always wishing i could share the story, at that moment.
I don't want to keep all this to myself.
Pt 3
Its been a very interesting 4 years.
I'm different, but the same.
I still feel the constant need for love.
But now I'm starting to know why.
I can't stand to be this honest and still not feel confident.
I'm more a fan of feeling specific and concise.
I almost forgot I wasn't eating this week.
Somewhere between feeling unfinished and two cups of coffee.
another evening of friends with pizza would be nice
right about now. or when this thing is over.
A nice fire and some candles, some hot chocolate, a movie
and some awkward glances. We're both wondering how I feel.
...
I should probably get some reading done now, with all this free time. Let's hang out later.
- Adam
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
No surprises
Fasting, Day 3.
I was talking to someone about this fast this morning, and I found myself very discouraged afterwards.
Mainly because a) I don't know much about fasting, other than what I have read in books, b) I don't know much about poverty for the same reason, and c) The first two days have felt like a week.
The background story: Some students from my school started this partial fast to build a sense of community, and talk about poverty and agricultural issues. We meet once a day and each have 2 cups of rice and half a cup of beans.
Yes. this is not them most intelligent thing I have ever done.
So far, I'm feeling too weak to care about issues, and a little too hungry to concentrate. Thus the need to re-evaluate how I'm doing this... less tea, more OJ and water. One of the things I'm figuring out really quickly is how much free time I have, with all the not eating. Eating is pretty much my hobby.
I suck at nutrition. One of my goals for this week should, essentially, be to eat healthier after this is all done.
As well, I'm starting to appreciate bread a lot more, now that I can't have it for the next 12 days. Freshly baked break, broken with friends. Bah.
This will get better... as soon as I get some vitamins and juice. And as soon as I get my head together and figure out what this "not eating" thing is supposed to accomplish with the 30 or so students I am leading. What does any of this have to do with solving poverty, or doing anything of great consequence?
I'll get back to you.
I was talking to someone about this fast this morning, and I found myself very discouraged afterwards.
Mainly because a) I don't know much about fasting, other than what I have read in books, b) I don't know much about poverty for the same reason, and c) The first two days have felt like a week.
The background story: Some students from my school started this partial fast to build a sense of community, and talk about poverty and agricultural issues. We meet once a day and each have 2 cups of rice and half a cup of beans.
Yes. this is not them most intelligent thing I have ever done.
So far, I'm feeling too weak to care about issues, and a little too hungry to concentrate. Thus the need to re-evaluate how I'm doing this... less tea, more OJ and water. One of the things I'm figuring out really quickly is how much free time I have, with all the not eating. Eating is pretty much my hobby.
I suck at nutrition. One of my goals for this week should, essentially, be to eat healthier after this is all done.
As well, I'm starting to appreciate bread a lot more, now that I can't have it for the next 12 days. Freshly baked break, broken with friends. Bah.
This will get better... as soon as I get some vitamins and juice. And as soon as I get my head together and figure out what this "not eating" thing is supposed to accomplish with the 30 or so students I am leading. What does any of this have to do with solving poverty, or doing anything of great consequence?
I'll get back to you.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
I think, therefore, too much
Ok, seriously. When the only person that comments on my blog is a spanish spam advertising site, there must be a problem. gah!
(friends who do comment here, do not be offended. your feedback is appreciated. word).
Secondly, to my great shame this blog could have the least to do with my actual life. I'm sure that if you, who have never met me, you would be surprised (no, really).
However this works, I find when I write it has less to do with my daily life and more to do with venting deep unspoken thoughts. I probably I think way too much.
Just a quick thought I wanted to throw out there.
Thirdly, I'm thinking a lot about how I should not be chasing after ideals. In other words, my friends and I seem to chase after this idea of "home" a lot- what does home mean. And the more I talk about home the more I sense that home is as close as a loving relationship, a holding of someone's hand, or an hour devoted to slowing down and being with someone. Whatever.
I could either chase after some ideal my entire life- like the ideal wife, car, house, job, future- or I could stop, and ask myself "is there some way to find something I love about life today?". As opposed to waiting for all my ducks to be in a row (to use a cliche that is really funny to picture), to wait for everything to be together in my life.
So thats that. This journal is, in my mind, a poor representation of myself sometimes. I can't remember when it became a place for me to just vent... or be too hard on myself for that matter.
On a side note, my friends and I are starting this fast called the "least to survive" fast. Basically for the next two weeks we are only eating the minimum amount of food to survive- a cup of rice and some lentils once a day.
I'll definitely keep you posted on this one. Thank you for bearing with me, and all my random doubts and wonderings.
Later.
(friends who do comment here, do not be offended. your feedback is appreciated. word).
Secondly, to my great shame this blog could have the least to do with my actual life. I'm sure that if you, who have never met me, you would be surprised (no, really).
However this works, I find when I write it has less to do with my daily life and more to do with venting deep unspoken thoughts. I probably I think way too much.
Just a quick thought I wanted to throw out there.
Thirdly, I'm thinking a lot about how I should not be chasing after ideals. In other words, my friends and I seem to chase after this idea of "home" a lot- what does home mean. And the more I talk about home the more I sense that home is as close as a loving relationship, a holding of someone's hand, or an hour devoted to slowing down and being with someone. Whatever.
I could either chase after some ideal my entire life- like the ideal wife, car, house, job, future- or I could stop, and ask myself "is there some way to find something I love about life today?". As opposed to waiting for all my ducks to be in a row (to use a cliche that is really funny to picture), to wait for everything to be together in my life.
So thats that. This journal is, in my mind, a poor representation of myself sometimes. I can't remember when it became a place for me to just vent... or be too hard on myself for that matter.
On a side note, my friends and I are starting this fast called the "least to survive" fast. Basically for the next two weeks we are only eating the minimum amount of food to survive- a cup of rice and some lentils once a day.
I'll definitely keep you posted on this one. Thank you for bearing with me, and all my random doubts and wonderings.
Later.
Friday, January 11, 2008
some comfort and some grace - reprise
I'm starting to think that this idea of home has to be about relationships.
A friend of mine wrote an entry about home on, of all places, facebook. He wrote;
"What is it that makes home? Part of it seems to be in my trust in God's faithfulness in His provision for me. There's certain peace that comes from knowing that the Father will take care of His son. No home would be complete without that peace We got onto the conversation about home". And so I responded, with this:
"maybe home is just about where find out who you are. where you feel most like yourself, the real you God intended you to find.
and maybe thats all this faith is. a bunch of people who feel lost, and are looking for belonging.
I have come to believe, with a lot of hurting and hope, that we find God in the nuances of our creative nature. God wants us to find out who we really are as humans beings because we are important... so stupid things like feeling hurt, heartbroken, or overjoyed are perfectly legitimate to feel.
home, then, is where you can feel safe to open up to change- where you can feel safe enough to go into the deep places of the heart where you find out who you are."
In one of my classes yesterday a speaker asked the question, why do we feel the need to rest? I started to think the reason we rest is to "be ourself". Rest is removed from trying to impress people, trying to win approval. When I rest it's as if I am acknowledging that who I am is important to someone else.
~
So, thats that. I was hoping to sit down, enjoy a relaxed morning and write calm prose. Instead I sort of woke up feeling anxious, unrested, worried. One of these days I would love to see all this stuff, all the thinking that comprises too many mornings wasted, unfold in the context of a narrative- a story told carefully, allowing the most held-dear insights time to unravel and grow.
I'm not, personally, a fan of stories that give you a list of dry details and events. I like those stories that are made to breathe.
I really need to just figure out how to find rest. There must be some magical formula behind this... Having my time better managed? Putting all my plans for this semester, including assignments, on paper? Spending less time inside? Reading a bit more?
Whatever. I'm not too worried. I owe you some prose.
Listening to:
A friend of mine wrote an entry about home on, of all places, facebook. He wrote;
"What is it that makes home? Part of it seems to be in my trust in God's faithfulness in His provision for me. There's certain peace that comes from knowing that the Father will take care of His son. No home would be complete without that peace We got onto the conversation about home". And so I responded, with this:
"maybe home is just about where find out who you are. where you feel most like yourself, the real you God intended you to find.
and maybe thats all this faith is. a bunch of people who feel lost, and are looking for belonging.
I have come to believe, with a lot of hurting and hope, that we find God in the nuances of our creative nature. God wants us to find out who we really are as humans beings because we are important... so stupid things like feeling hurt, heartbroken, or overjoyed are perfectly legitimate to feel.
home, then, is where you can feel safe to open up to change- where you can feel safe enough to go into the deep places of the heart where you find out who you are."
In one of my classes yesterday a speaker asked the question, why do we feel the need to rest? I started to think the reason we rest is to "be ourself". Rest is removed from trying to impress people, trying to win approval. When I rest it's as if I am acknowledging that who I am is important to someone else.
~
So, thats that. I was hoping to sit down, enjoy a relaxed morning and write calm prose. Instead I sort of woke up feeling anxious, unrested, worried. One of these days I would love to see all this stuff, all the thinking that comprises too many mornings wasted, unfold in the context of a narrative- a story told carefully, allowing the most held-dear insights time to unravel and grow.
I'm not, personally, a fan of stories that give you a list of dry details and events. I like those stories that are made to breathe.
I really need to just figure out how to find rest. There must be some magical formula behind this... Having my time better managed? Putting all my plans for this semester, including assignments, on paper? Spending less time inside? Reading a bit more?
Whatever. I'm not too worried. I owe you some prose.
Listening to:
Saturday, January 05, 2008
Waiting
So, thats that I guess.
I took the greyhound (never again) home to Abbotsford today, and then got on the wrong transit bus twice. Then I walked home for two hours.
In Vancouver I;
1) Spent way too many hours at the Drive
2) Spent, also, way too much time on Burrard
3) Did not spend enough time at JJ Bean
4) Performed poetry at Cafe De' Soleil (randomly).
5) Visited Georgia O Keefe and Emily Carr at the Vancouver Art Gallery.
6) Drank a bottle of Island Lager on a cold and windy night looking out at lights of Vancouver across the ocean water. Beautiful.
7) Watched many a beautiful film: Juno, Garden State, Blood Diamond.
Now I'm home, and trying to adapt back to college life while toying with the notion of writing some good poetry. one of these days.
I'm planning my first concert this year with a friend, at a City Blends. If you really want to go, its Saturday at 7.
I learned more than I could imagine in a few days of traveling. Such as how to talk to a crowd instead of at a crowd when performing. And now I know less about home than before.
Which is humbling, almost enjoyable, a bit sad. I wrote in my journal yesterday that "It's God's gentle way of saying 'It's Ok. I have this all figured out for you. All you have to do is enjoy it"
So, this year is going to be a lot of that. Hopefully.
Listening to: Death Cab for Cutie - Transantlanticism
Reading: Traveling Mercies
Watching: Born into Brothels
Thinking: You (as always).
~
these snowy nights can remind me of my finitide,
gently tapping on my arm.
the smell of pine trees and cold air falls
and leaves like a faded holiday season lost of warmth and memory.
We'll look back fondly in a year or so.
The most beautiful and pure aromas have lived here with me,
pinned to my walls and the ceiling every morning,
every night I was praying for another today, another chance to get things right.
I took the greyhound (never again) home to Abbotsford today, and then got on the wrong transit bus twice. Then I walked home for two hours.
In Vancouver I;
1) Spent way too many hours at the Drive
2) Spent, also, way too much time on Burrard
3) Did not spend enough time at JJ Bean
4) Performed poetry at Cafe De' Soleil (randomly).
5) Visited Georgia O Keefe and Emily Carr at the Vancouver Art Gallery.
6) Drank a bottle of Island Lager on a cold and windy night looking out at lights of Vancouver across the ocean water. Beautiful.
7) Watched many a beautiful film: Juno, Garden State, Blood Diamond.
Now I'm home, and trying to adapt back to college life while toying with the notion of writing some good poetry. one of these days.
I'm planning my first concert this year with a friend, at a City Blends. If you really want to go, its Saturday at 7.
I learned more than I could imagine in a few days of traveling. Such as how to talk to a crowd instead of at a crowd when performing. And now I know less about home than before.
Which is humbling, almost enjoyable, a bit sad. I wrote in my journal yesterday that "It's God's gentle way of saying 'It's Ok. I have this all figured out for you. All you have to do is enjoy it"
So, this year is going to be a lot of that. Hopefully.
Listening to: Death Cab for Cutie - Transantlanticism
Reading: Traveling Mercies
Watching: Born into Brothels
Thinking: You (as always).
~
these snowy nights can remind me of my finitide,
gently tapping on my arm.
the smell of pine trees and cold air falls
and leaves like a faded holiday season lost of warmth and memory.
We'll look back fondly in a year or so.
The most beautiful and pure aromas have lived here with me,
pinned to my walls and the ceiling every morning,
every night I was praying for another today, another chance to get things right.
Monday, December 31, 2007
endless numbered days
Hello Friends.
You will all be happy to know that I am safe in Vancouver, after three days of fun in Washington state.
Some good stuff I found:
In downtown bellingham I found one street with three packed bookstores! I came pretty close to spending an entire day there. My time was divided between The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath and some Luci Shaw poems (foolishly, I did not purchase either of those). Eventually I just picked up a copy of Traveling Mercies for my mom.
I found this great artsy town called "Fairhaven", with a cafe that served vegetarian food, a record store right next to an italian coffee place, inside a building with a small fountain and winding stairs. It was heaven.
At the record store I found copies of "Our endless numbered days" by Iron and Wine on vinyl. This purchase will definately turn into many nights of tea and conversation.
I had concluded that I will definately live inside an artsy town when I grow up.
So. I will keep you updated. I need some down time. or some home-made alfredo sauce.
Thus is my traveling life.
You will all be happy to know that I am safe in Vancouver, after three days of fun in Washington state.
Some good stuff I found:
In downtown bellingham I found one street with three packed bookstores! I came pretty close to spending an entire day there. My time was divided between The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath and some Luci Shaw poems (foolishly, I did not purchase either of those). Eventually I just picked up a copy of Traveling Mercies for my mom.
I found this great artsy town called "Fairhaven", with a cafe that served vegetarian food, a record store right next to an italian coffee place, inside a building with a small fountain and winding stairs. It was heaven.
At the record store I found copies of "Our endless numbered days" by Iron and Wine on vinyl. This purchase will definately turn into many nights of tea and conversation.
I had concluded that I will definately live inside an artsy town when I grow up.
So. I will keep you updated. I need some down time. or some home-made alfredo sauce.
Thus is my traveling life.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
traveling grace
Imagination seems to be the thing least valued in our present culture. There is a lot of attention given to fantasy, but the difference between fantasy and imagination is that in fantasy the story has us at the center of it, indulging us. Imagination
- eugene peterson
A Christmas Journal: Chapter 6
My life is turning another chapter today. Kind of. Upon realizing that this isn't the home I thought it would be, I'm going to go look for it.
I'm traveling to the Seattle area tommorow to meet up with my mom, who moved there this year with a man she met online. It should be good. Apperantly she lives in a tiny place called "Ferndale", so many adventures and conversatians involving my weird progressive ideas will ensue.
Then after that I'm going into Vancouver, the most beautiful city I know. On this stretch of my trip I will be:
1) taking the skytrain to the neighborhoods I frequent- Gastown, Granville, East Hastings, Commercial.
2) Stopping into the Vancouver Arts Gallery for the "Georgia O'Keefe" exhibit.
3) Sitting down at JJ Bean
4) Meeting at least one or two people of the creative and feminine persuasion. hopefully. If I can get over this whole "insecure" thing.
5) Writing something.
6) Conversing about life.
7) chasing a skunk. or a squirrel.
And just for fun, I'm going to put together a collection of things that every person in their twenties should experience. If you haven't already experienced these mainstays make sure you do... today. unless you already have (Heather):
Illinois - Sufjan Stevens
Five Leaves Left - Nick Drake
Transatlanticism - Death Cab for Cutie
Garden State
The Royal Tennenbaums
Good Will Hunting
Blue Like Jazz - Donald Miller
Traveling Mercies - Anne Lamott
Life after God - Douglas Copeland
The list goes on. On a side note, I always feel like a bit of a tool when I look back on a long blog and realize that I have not said much. Or, I have said too much and lack a central uniting theme.
Sigh. I'll work on that when I'm traveling. I think thats what traveling is all about, really- finding some wisdom in writing. You learn to say what is important, and work through the rest in solitude- working through the details quietly over a warm drink, enjoying the relaxing prospect of developing insights and connections.
Let's talk. Later.
- Adam
- eugene peterson
A Christmas Journal: Chapter 6
My life is turning another chapter today. Kind of. Upon realizing that this isn't the home I thought it would be, I'm going to go look for it.
I'm traveling to the Seattle area tommorow to meet up with my mom, who moved there this year with a man she met online. It should be good. Apperantly she lives in a tiny place called "Ferndale", so many adventures and conversatians involving my weird progressive ideas will ensue.
Then after that I'm going into Vancouver, the most beautiful city I know. On this stretch of my trip I will be:
1) taking the skytrain to the neighborhoods I frequent- Gastown, Granville, East Hastings, Commercial.
2) Stopping into the Vancouver Arts Gallery for the "Georgia O'Keefe" exhibit.
3) Sitting down at JJ Bean
4) Meeting at least one or two people of the creative and feminine persuasion. hopefully. If I can get over this whole "insecure" thing.
5) Writing something.
6) Conversing about life.
7) chasing a skunk. or a squirrel.
And just for fun, I'm going to put together a collection of things that every person in their twenties should experience. If you haven't already experienced these mainstays make sure you do... today. unless you already have (Heather):
Illinois - Sufjan Stevens
Five Leaves Left - Nick Drake
Transatlanticism - Death Cab for Cutie
Garden State
The Royal Tennenbaums
Good Will Hunting
Blue Like Jazz - Donald Miller
Traveling Mercies - Anne Lamott
Life after God - Douglas Copeland
The list goes on. On a side note, I always feel like a bit of a tool when I look back on a long blog and realize that I have not said much. Or, I have said too much and lack a central uniting theme.
Sigh. I'll work on that when I'm traveling. I think thats what traveling is all about, really- finding some wisdom in writing. You learn to say what is important, and work through the rest in solitude- working through the details quietly over a warm drink, enjoying the relaxing prospect of developing insights and connections.
Let's talk. Later.
- Adam
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
hiding in the paper, pretending not to hear
So, it has turned out to be a fine Christmas. Today has been a lot of hanging out with friends, eating bad "chinese" food, smoking cigars, and pints of Keith's.
And watching the traditional Christmas movies: The Santa Clause, Home Alone, Almost Famous.
A Christmas Journal Chapter 5: Lessons of a Christmas alone.
- You need something to start the day. Without something to start the day, it becomes hours of nothing.
- Malls, even though filled with many people, will only make you feel more alone.
- In some cases it is better to go out for tea. It gives you an excuse to get out of the house.
- Red Peppers are not in season during the Christmas season.
- Yams and Sweet Potatoes, however, are (I think).
- I need to figure out some way to become more confident. Less depressed about life.
My roommate called me on that today. He told me I have to start talking about what is depressing me, work through it. I have to agree. Something I'll have to think about this year.
- I need to build up friendships, for those times when the community of school is not around. Though, there is hope in knowing I have a community to come back to, after all this.
- This home thing. I don't think I'm sincerely pursuing something called "home". As much as I'm just identifying with feeling sad/lost. A better thing to pursue could be as simple as honest/sincere conversations.
I don't know. This all seems like just another late-night desperate attempt at answers, trying to feel like I have at least one small aspect of my life figured out.
I think I do have a lot figured out. Now, its just a matter of accepting that. Accepting that, yeah, I'm a mess, but I do have a lot of wisdom to offer. I have said it before; How can you love someone else if you do not love yourself? How can you offer love to someone if you don't feel like the love you have to offer is any good? How can you offer your passions and gifts to someone unless you recognize how valid those things are?
something like that. I still have a lot to learn.
- The way to figure out who you are is through relationships. People that love me see things in me that I do not see in myself.
- Having deep moments of reflection is what being in your 20s is all about.
- I need to learn how to listen.
So. Thus is my first Christmas away from home, trying to learn something about myself. The journey continues.
All the best. Talk to you next week.
- Adam
Listening: Sufjan (this song is a gift for you).
Thinking: You
Feeling: Lonely
Sorry: This entry was so long.
And watching the traditional Christmas movies: The Santa Clause, Home Alone, Almost Famous.
A Christmas Journal Chapter 5: Lessons of a Christmas alone.
- You need something to start the day. Without something to start the day, it becomes hours of nothing.
- Malls, even though filled with many people, will only make you feel more alone.
- In some cases it is better to go out for tea. It gives you an excuse to get out of the house.
- Red Peppers are not in season during the Christmas season.
- Yams and Sweet Potatoes, however, are (I think).
- I need to figure out some way to become more confident. Less depressed about life.
My roommate called me on that today. He told me I have to start talking about what is depressing me, work through it. I have to agree. Something I'll have to think about this year.
- I need to build up friendships, for those times when the community of school is not around. Though, there is hope in knowing I have a community to come back to, after all this.
- This home thing. I don't think I'm sincerely pursuing something called "home". As much as I'm just identifying with feeling sad/lost. A better thing to pursue could be as simple as honest/sincere conversations.
I don't know. This all seems like just another late-night desperate attempt at answers, trying to feel like I have at least one small aspect of my life figured out.
I think I do have a lot figured out. Now, its just a matter of accepting that. Accepting that, yeah, I'm a mess, but I do have a lot of wisdom to offer. I have said it before; How can you love someone else if you do not love yourself? How can you offer love to someone if you don't feel like the love you have to offer is any good? How can you offer your passions and gifts to someone unless you recognize how valid those things are?
something like that. I still have a lot to learn.
- The way to figure out who you are is through relationships. People that love me see things in me that I do not see in myself.
- Having deep moments of reflection is what being in your 20s is all about.
- I need to learn how to listen.
So. Thus is my first Christmas away from home, trying to learn something about myself. The journey continues.
All the best. Talk to you next week.
- Adam
Listening: Sufjan (this song is a gift for you).
Thinking: You
Feeling: Lonely
Sorry: This entry was so long.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
older song meant for an older day
December 23: A quick update.
I'm cooking some sweet potatoes right now, and sitting beside a cup of tea from Harrogate . Tommorow I'm planning on spending the day with my friend next door, having hot chocolate with baileys and watching bad Christmas movies.
I think tonight I'm going to watch the movie "Eastern Promises", which is a bit unnerving. I think its going to be a tough one.
I'm trying to process the fact that I'm not seeing my dad or mom this Christmas. I'll have to tell you how all this goes tomorrow. overall, its not so bad. Well I mean, its tough, but I have a community waiting for me when all this is over. The grace of this college life.
That is my today. Hey, let's all try something: hang some green and red materials around the house, turn on some lights and music, and bring in branches from trees outside (because I think the smell of actual tree smells better than those cheap plastic christmas trees. I am not down with fake trees). I think by then it will feel enough like christmas to get over the fact that it feels lonely. We might find some solitude.
Until then, all the best. Tis the season. And all the rest.
I'm cooking some sweet potatoes right now, and sitting beside a cup of tea from Harrogate . Tommorow I'm planning on spending the day with my friend next door, having hot chocolate with baileys and watching bad Christmas movies.
I think tonight I'm going to watch the movie "Eastern Promises", which is a bit unnerving. I think its going to be a tough one.
I'm trying to process the fact that I'm not seeing my dad or mom this Christmas. I'll have to tell you how all this goes tomorrow. overall, its not so bad. Well I mean, its tough, but I have a community waiting for me when all this is over. The grace of this college life.
That is my today. Hey, let's all try something: hang some green and red materials around the house, turn on some lights and music, and bring in branches from trees outside (because I think the smell of actual tree smells better than those cheap plastic christmas trees. I am not down with fake trees). I think by then it will feel enough like christmas to get over the fact that it feels lonely. We might find some solitude.
Until then, all the best. Tis the season. And all the rest.
Friday, December 21, 2007
but they're just old light
I have a story. I feel insecure. And I don't know why.
This is my first christmas alone. My first Christmas apart from the context of family. I decided that the only place I would find an inherant sense of healing, of solitude, this Christmas was here, in my new home in Abbotsford. I am alone. I am an Island.
I don't think this time alone is working all that well. I wonder if trying to force the thought of home on this house is worth a shit. ...If trying to force this house to somehow feel like a place where my shoulders aren't tense makes a difference. Where does one find a sense of love? a sense of living in that love and feeling fine?
deep sigh. Day two of my first Christmas as an adult. I like to think this life is progressive, and I'm not going to feel lost entirely by next year. I've said it before- one of these days I'll find what I'm looking for.
(I'm not sure what I'm looking for).
I'll leave this on a more positive note, something with a deep comfort: love is...
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