how does christmas music possess such a power to make me just want to sway and dance? i'm home alone right now, (besides jack being my dancing fool of a partner. he loves it.) and i feel like i'm home. like my mom may be in the room over, my brother and dad maybe down the street. and that gramma & grampa are a short drive to see.
the aura of love is surrounding, and everything feels okay, even if only for the length of a carol or two. hahaha, and here is nsync: "merry christmas...happy holiday" hehehee
if i could make a burnt CD for the whole world to hear, this would be the one. it'd be the best way to share love around the world. i wonder how i can make this happen...
well, here's a start: send me your address, and i'll mail you one. no matter who you are, whether i know you or not.
merry christmas season. and as my mom's little lapel pin says on her winter coat without fail "Jesus is the reason for the season."
and as Tiny Tim says "God bless us, everyone."
12.03.2008
11.25.2008
"i don't wanna be Jesus"
i just awoke from the strangest dream. i will do what i can to keep it in its entire true form and describe it as vividly as i felt it.
i was back on the huntington campus to visit some friends, but as i started walking around, i realized that i didn't know anyone. i was looking for pose, or hayley, or deanna...anyone, really. but i kept walking through the cold, without a coat, the beauty and music of the campus gone, until i got into the library (which had a Subway sandwich station inside). now as i walked in, there were these booths that people were sitting in reading. and as soon as i started to look around, i saw this little girl pop up on top of the counter with her face painted white along with a single tear (one of the very popular mime faces, of course). and she started dancing. like kristen dances. just very graceful and sweeping with lots of emotion and without music. it was like the music was inside this girl and she wanted it to come out for everyone to hear it. i saw that she was just so sad. then, in walks bill fisher who is staring at the girl, at no one else. he rips her down off the counter and she kind of folds in two and then he drags her out of there into his office. at seeing this i was completely astonished and had no idea what to think of what was going on, and kristen walks in. i tell her about what had just happened and she said "i know; that's how i got this." and she raised up the entire back of her shirt to reveal this spine-length scar. i just mouth an "oh" and didn't address it any further.
i knew i needed to save this girl. so i walked to bill's office so hear no screaming, no fighting or flailing. just silence. and as i peered through the windows of his office, i saw all my friends in these bottles. (like the size of nalgene bottles but shaped like old-school coke bottles.) this is where i find pose, and hayley, and deanna, and drew wutke, and many more of my music friends as well. my breath was taken away and all i could do was stare until kristen broke this trance by saying, "i fought. that's why i'm here and not in one of those jars. they all tried, but he's very strong. he doesn't like passion."
out of sheer disbelief, and then panic, i start to run out of the HUB and toward the new dorm building, to seek some type of refuge from this craziness. and as i ran i got hit in the back of the leg with a rock by bill. (this ended up giving me a charlie horse in my sleep.) but i was too far ahead and was safely inside the dorms (it was like i was a gypsy crying out for 'sanctuary' from the madness outside. note: i did watch Hunchback Of Notre Dame this week.)
now as soon as i arrived inside, it was like i was in a museum built for art. but there was no art. no paintings. no statues. nothing on the walls. so i took out these pastel paints from my back pocket, along with a rolled-up piece of parchment from under my right arm. i laid them out and began to paint with these broad, rich strokes colors of brilliance and warmth. i was painting this knowing that it was meant to bring beauty and love into this place. to show that i would protect those who were persecuted and shelter those who couldn't shelter themselves. and i kept painting, painting faster and faster until from behind, i was jerked up, away and folded in half, being dragged backwards as the little girl had been, staring at the tiles as they quickly swept past me. i was terrified, because i didn't want to become a capture in a trophy bottle. but i didn't struggle. i didn't try to free myself. bill threw me into a corner of the museum's room to trap me. and as he inched closer and closer, i saw people walking all around, to and from classes, and so i yelled out for some help. but no one stopped. all their faces were cast down, solemn and grave. as bill flew toward me, i pushed up with my feet and kept going higher and higher every time bill lunged until i got caught on this nail that was jutting out from the wall and once i was stuck there, bill smiled satisfactorily, admiring his work, and walked away.
still people walked by, but they didn't stop. they didn't speak. they didn't look up. and i was up there, resigned to the fact that i would remain here because no one could see. i couldn't breathe.
and it slowly morphed into a hillside, where there were two other nails on either side of me in the room. two were hanging as i was and no one dared to take us down. and then, i felt like i was Jesus. there was suddenly a mass of people around, doing nothing to help me and i knew i was to die here. no one cared. no one understood. and i was devastated. my heart grew heavy along with my eyelids, and i knew i was to die. i just wanted people to understand what love means. that anywhere, love can be found. and then, i cried softly "i don't wanna be Jesus."
i woke up in a sweat, tired and stiff, but i couldn't go back to sleep. i started telling the dream to chris and i couldn't hold back my emotions. it just puts things into more of a perspective for me...
i was back on the huntington campus to visit some friends, but as i started walking around, i realized that i didn't know anyone. i was looking for pose, or hayley, or deanna...anyone, really. but i kept walking through the cold, without a coat, the beauty and music of the campus gone, until i got into the library (which had a Subway sandwich station inside). now as i walked in, there were these booths that people were sitting in reading. and as soon as i started to look around, i saw this little girl pop up on top of the counter with her face painted white along with a single tear (one of the very popular mime faces, of course). and she started dancing. like kristen dances. just very graceful and sweeping with lots of emotion and without music. it was like the music was inside this girl and she wanted it to come out for everyone to hear it. i saw that she was just so sad. then, in walks bill fisher who is staring at the girl, at no one else. he rips her down off the counter and she kind of folds in two and then he drags her out of there into his office. at seeing this i was completely astonished and had no idea what to think of what was going on, and kristen walks in. i tell her about what had just happened and she said "i know; that's how i got this." and she raised up the entire back of her shirt to reveal this spine-length scar. i just mouth an "oh" and didn't address it any further.
i knew i needed to save this girl. so i walked to bill's office so hear no screaming, no fighting or flailing. just silence. and as i peered through the windows of his office, i saw all my friends in these bottles. (like the size of nalgene bottles but shaped like old-school coke bottles.) this is where i find pose, and hayley, and deanna, and drew wutke, and many more of my music friends as well. my breath was taken away and all i could do was stare until kristen broke this trance by saying, "i fought. that's why i'm here and not in one of those jars. they all tried, but he's very strong. he doesn't like passion."
out of sheer disbelief, and then panic, i start to run out of the HUB and toward the new dorm building, to seek some type of refuge from this craziness. and as i ran i got hit in the back of the leg with a rock by bill. (this ended up giving me a charlie horse in my sleep.) but i was too far ahead and was safely inside the dorms (it was like i was a gypsy crying out for 'sanctuary' from the madness outside. note: i did watch Hunchback Of Notre Dame this week.)
now as soon as i arrived inside, it was like i was in a museum built for art. but there was no art. no paintings. no statues. nothing on the walls. so i took out these pastel paints from my back pocket, along with a rolled-up piece of parchment from under my right arm. i laid them out and began to paint with these broad, rich strokes colors of brilliance and warmth. i was painting this knowing that it was meant to bring beauty and love into this place. to show that i would protect those who were persecuted and shelter those who couldn't shelter themselves. and i kept painting, painting faster and faster until from behind, i was jerked up, away and folded in half, being dragged backwards as the little girl had been, staring at the tiles as they quickly swept past me. i was terrified, because i didn't want to become a capture in a trophy bottle. but i didn't struggle. i didn't try to free myself. bill threw me into a corner of the museum's room to trap me. and as he inched closer and closer, i saw people walking all around, to and from classes, and so i yelled out for some help. but no one stopped. all their faces were cast down, solemn and grave. as bill flew toward me, i pushed up with my feet and kept going higher and higher every time bill lunged until i got caught on this nail that was jutting out from the wall and once i was stuck there, bill smiled satisfactorily, admiring his work, and walked away.
still people walked by, but they didn't stop. they didn't speak. they didn't look up. and i was up there, resigned to the fact that i would remain here because no one could see. i couldn't breathe.
and it slowly morphed into a hillside, where there were two other nails on either side of me in the room. two were hanging as i was and no one dared to take us down. and then, i felt like i was Jesus. there was suddenly a mass of people around, doing nothing to help me and i knew i was to die here. no one cared. no one understood. and i was devastated. my heart grew heavy along with my eyelids, and i knew i was to die. i just wanted people to understand what love means. that anywhere, love can be found. and then, i cried softly "i don't wanna be Jesus."
i woke up in a sweat, tired and stiff, but i couldn't go back to sleep. i started telling the dream to chris and i couldn't hold back my emotions. it just puts things into more of a perspective for me...
10.23.2008
"maybe i should try humpback"
hehehee. this is the second day in a row where i've watched FINDING NEMO. and it never fails; this lil' clip makes me laugh out loud. the way ellen and the animators team up together...just perfection. the sounds/animation that follow after "maybe i should try humpback" KILLS me. hehehehe :-)
i don't know what it is about disney films, but there really is magic in them. i watch one and i always feel a little more childlike, a little happier.
other things that make me happier: tomorrow is abigail grace allwein's senior voice recital. and i'm excited to hear some good singin'. yay!
10.09.2008
anger, helplessness, and fear
about five-and-a-half years ago (wow, i can't believe it's been that long; it doesn't feel it), i sat in on, taking many notes on an insightful HEARTLAND message with the katies on either side of me (katie kobelski on my left, katie jones on my right). many things were said in this divine message, but the one that has consistently stayed with me is that "anger is a product of fear and the first sign of helplessness." the message talked about healing your heart's wounds, the importance of reconciliation and taking steps to get your life back on track. how to cope and how to praise and worship even when times are hard. one journal entry later, i was sobbing over katie's death.
five-and-a-half years. and i'm still dealing with my heart: its unanswered questions, the vulnerability, the helplessness. the fear and anger.
the message is now instrumental yet again. my life is consistently in turmoil. my brains versus my heart almost 24/7; still without answers to questions i never thought i'd have to entertain. but i have been given a great burden...though i still can't decipher whether i blessed myself with it or if God has given it to me to make me more compassionate. (even though i thought i had already covered that.) i'm learning slowly the power of prayer and to be careful for what you ask.
my heart is burdened. my heart is tired.
i long for my dear friend in times like these. even though i know to have her back would mean too many struggles for her. she's where she belongs. and i'm sure she's out-singing all of those angels.
this was a song that i wrote down that was part of the worship service that sunday morning.
COME, COME, COME by benjamin steenke
all who are weary, all who are broken
all who are burdened, all who can't cope
all who are guilty, all who have sinned
all who are hopeless, all who despair
all who are helpless, the lonely and weak
all of the outcasts, those covered in shame
all of the orphans, be loosed from the chains
come, come, come, be found by the Father
let His radiance burn away your shame.
run, run, run into His shelter
immerse your heart
come and find rest, rest for your souls
come and find peace
peace like you've never known.
and my toils...it just makes me call out for home.
and this journey is my own.
five-and-a-half years. and i'm still dealing with my heart: its unanswered questions, the vulnerability, the helplessness. the fear and anger.
the message is now instrumental yet again. my life is consistently in turmoil. my brains versus my heart almost 24/7; still without answers to questions i never thought i'd have to entertain. but i have been given a great burden...though i still can't decipher whether i blessed myself with it or if God has given it to me to make me more compassionate. (even though i thought i had already covered that.) i'm learning slowly the power of prayer and to be careful for what you ask.
my heart is burdened. my heart is tired.
i long for my dear friend in times like these. even though i know to have her back would mean too many struggles for her. she's where she belongs. and i'm sure she's out-singing all of those angels.
this was a song that i wrote down that was part of the worship service that sunday morning.
COME, COME, COME by benjamin steenke
all who are weary, all who are broken
all who are burdened, all who can't cope
all who are guilty, all who have sinned
all who are hopeless, all who despair
all who are helpless, the lonely and weak
all of the outcasts, those covered in shame
all of the orphans, be loosed from the chains
come, come, come, be found by the Father
let His radiance burn away your shame.
run, run, run into His shelter
immerse your heart
come and find rest, rest for your souls
come and find peace
peace like you've never known.
and my toils...it just makes me call out for home.
and this journey is my own.
PTO
so, it is thursday, and i have been on PTO for...5 days now. and it's so nice. no stress. i've read one-and-a-half jane austen books and have just RELAXED. i have not had a break like this since before i worked at wells fargo.
i want a job to which i want to return, and not view it so much like a death sentence. good things come to those who wait? ha. good things come to those who go out searching for their own happiness. so, i guess there's only one things left for me to do...
pray for guidance.
i want a job to which i want to return, and not view it so much like a death sentence. good things come to those who wait? ha. good things come to those who go out searching for their own happiness. so, i guess there's only one things left for me to do...
pray for guidance.
10.05.2008
my heart
i have always been an emotional person.
i was labeled "the cry-baby" very early in life...but that was usually because i wasn't getting something that i wanted.
i feel things deeply, hope for things deeply, and cry easily.
until a handful of years ago.
i remember my mother saying (and chris a short time later)that crying doesn't solve the problem. and after that, i understood that maybe it hurt them too much, or it was too much for them to handle, when they saw me cry.
now, whether i'm talking with them about hard situations or even sitting next to them in a sappy tear-jerker of a movie, i hold it back.
i don't cry to solve problems. i don't cry to get out of situations.
but it's because of my heart. my heart is so overwhelmed (whether it be by joy, pain, confusion, frustration)that there is no other outlet. i hear a song that identifies with a situation in my life, and i lose it. it is my physical relief.
when katie died, i didn't cry instantly. and i don't remember exactly when it finally all poured out. but i remember my body feeling like it was pent up and needed to release. but i wouldn't let myself. maybe it was because i knew that once i cried i would know she was gone. and i just wasn't ready.
needless to say, there is a lot on my heart right now. things that i thought i had dealt with are coming back double, and i don't know what to do with myself.
maybe i should just move to ireland. they get to keen there...
i was labeled "the cry-baby" very early in life...but that was usually because i wasn't getting something that i wanted.
i feel things deeply, hope for things deeply, and cry easily.
until a handful of years ago.
i remember my mother saying (and chris a short time later)that crying doesn't solve the problem. and after that, i understood that maybe it hurt them too much, or it was too much for them to handle, when they saw me cry.
now, whether i'm talking with them about hard situations or even sitting next to them in a sappy tear-jerker of a movie, i hold it back.
i don't cry to solve problems. i don't cry to get out of situations.
but it's because of my heart. my heart is so overwhelmed (whether it be by joy, pain, confusion, frustration)that there is no other outlet. i hear a song that identifies with a situation in my life, and i lose it. it is my physical relief.
when katie died, i didn't cry instantly. and i don't remember exactly when it finally all poured out. but i remember my body feeling like it was pent up and needed to release. but i wouldn't let myself. maybe it was because i knew that once i cried i would know she was gone. and i just wasn't ready.
needless to say, there is a lot on my heart right now. things that i thought i had dealt with are coming back double, and i don't know what to do with myself.
maybe i should just move to ireland. they get to keen there...
10.03.2008
FINDING NEVERLAND reminds me of..."the sickness".
so, i went to the carmel-clay public library....mmm, i love libraries. all the education in one building. all the endless card catalogs. it's like home. only...not.
amidst all the choices of audio selections, i found the lovely soundtrack of FINDING NEVERLAND. not only does it bring me fond memories of watching this movie for the first time, but it reminds me of GODSPELL summer. and the sickness that i was assured would remove me from this earth.
hahaha...i remember being on a stripped-bare dorm mattress with a snuggly blanket and pillow, slipping in and out of consciousness, mumbling and moaning, drinking powerade and downing vicodin. having a few phone conversations with chris that i never remembered having. i chose to watch this movie FINDING NEVERLAND, but i'm pretty sure i still have only seen parts of it. though i have the motif of the DVD menu etched into my memory forever. i would wake up, push play, pass out, and wake up to the menu recycling the motif over and over. i remember eric church's pumas as he sat on THE PIANO HOUSE's futon, his satchel of movies; i remember pose having a bout of sickness as well, failing to make it to the bathroom and back and chose just to lie down in the middle of the hallway where we gargled disjunct conversation back and forth till one or both of us dozed off. and cara running in (literally) with her mouth and nose covered yelling "i'm moving into the Late House!" and running back out with a handful of clothes to wear. to this day i don't really remember how long i was down with the wretched disaster. a week maybe? and i only remember taking two vicodin....hmm...
but i do know that it will be a very long time (if ever) before i will drink blue powerade again.
but FINDING NEVERLAND...a most beautifully composed movie score.
amidst all the choices of audio selections, i found the lovely soundtrack of FINDING NEVERLAND. not only does it bring me fond memories of watching this movie for the first time, but it reminds me of GODSPELL summer. and the sickness that i was assured would remove me from this earth.
hahaha...i remember being on a stripped-bare dorm mattress with a snuggly blanket and pillow, slipping in and out of consciousness, mumbling and moaning, drinking powerade and downing vicodin. having a few phone conversations with chris that i never remembered having. i chose to watch this movie FINDING NEVERLAND, but i'm pretty sure i still have only seen parts of it. though i have the motif of the DVD menu etched into my memory forever. i would wake up, push play, pass out, and wake up to the menu recycling the motif over and over. i remember eric church's pumas as he sat on THE PIANO HOUSE's futon, his satchel of movies; i remember pose having a bout of sickness as well, failing to make it to the bathroom and back and chose just to lie down in the middle of the hallway where we gargled disjunct conversation back and forth till one or both of us dozed off. and cara running in (literally) with her mouth and nose covered yelling "i'm moving into the Late House!" and running back out with a handful of clothes to wear. to this day i don't really remember how long i was down with the wretched disaster. a week maybe? and i only remember taking two vicodin....hmm...
but i do know that it will be a very long time (if ever) before i will drink blue powerade again.
but FINDING NEVERLAND...a most beautifully composed movie score.
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