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Month

September 2010

24 posts

Play
Aug 31, 20102 notes

August 2010

29 posts

Discovery - Osaka Loop Line → youtube.com

How did I not find out about this sooner? So dreamy.

Aug 31, 2010
Aug 30, 2010
#He is sufficient
Memory 9

A trip to the mountains a long while back. Cross country skiing for the first time through designated wilderness (also a first) on a snowy, white path lined with evergreens on both sides; hearing the the swish of the synthetic materials that winter jackets are made out of as arms pumped ski poles upward  and downward and up again; the uneven rhythm of our breaths, the breaths filled with anticipation of where we were headed; the air filled with our reverence and wonder at the natural splendor of the landscape; the crisp mountain air and cool winds that delighted our warm red cheeks. I was stunned when we stopped for a moment to admire a clearing we passed by: a vast area covered by soft, fresh, white snow. With the addition of the  upright evergreens that lined the clearing, little mounds of snow building upon their branches, the scene looked like something straight out of Narnia. The still, silent snowscape of when Lucy first steps into the magical kingdom, perhaps.

Aug 28, 20101 note
summer heat (a juvenile poem)

the sun burns back
the sun burns black
picture corners curl up
but the heat wasn’t yet out of whack

Aug 28, 20101 note
Aug 28, 201045 notes
I used to feel like Beaver.

by she and her cat

Beaver, or Cassidy Casablancas, from the TV show Veronica Mars. In the second season of the show, He killed a busload of his classmates, placing a bomb that sent them tumbling into the ocean on their school bus, and various other people throughout the season. Because he wanted to cover up his secret, he had to keep covering his tracks after they started investigating the bus crash, so he had to keep killing and killing. In the season finale, he tries to kill Veronica because she found out that he was the one responsible for the bus crash, and he tells her (correctly) that he put a bomb inside a plane that her dad was on. Logan, Veronica’s love interest, comes and saves her in the end.
Beaver starts to climb over the ledge of the building. Logan yells at him to stop, tells him not to do it. Beaver looks back at him and says, “Why not?”
Logan is speechless. Beaver says “I thought so”, and jumps to his death.

I used to feel a lot like Beaver. Granted, I have never killed or attempted to kill anyone, but…I have done a lot of bad things.

I used to think that if I were Logan, I wouldn’t have known what to say to Beaver either. I would have been speechless too, because I couldn’t think of a reason why he shouldn’t jump.

But now I know exactly what to say. I would have told him to get down from the ledge, that it’s okay. That there is a way to be good again, that there is hope and it doesn’t and shouldn’t have to end like this. I would have told him that it was okay. He jumped because he thought there wasn’t any hope left for him, but there was. There was.

I don’t feel like Beaver anymore. And now, I know what to say to the Beavers of this world.

Today, after praying, I got out of bed. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth, and I happened to catch a glimpse out the window. I saw a beautiful sky, with the sun peeking out between the clouds. It was so beautiful. I saw Him, in that sky.

Aug 28, 2010
Play
Aug 25, 20101 note
Aug 23, 2010
Soupmaking

The first time I tried my hand at making a soup was by accident. I was trying to make a simple soup base for some rice noodles but as the tomatoes and onions simmered longer than expected, the soup base grew thick and stew-like. It was challenging yet amusing trying to find a good balance of flavor. Garlic was thrown in, salt was dashed, one more chunk of tomato here and another piece of onion there. Between adding more to the soup and giving it sample tastes, I took delight in noting the changes in the flavor and tasting the soup being fleshed out. The process of working on a piece of art was what came to mind. Take your basic supplies: your pencil, your paper, your eraser, or what have you, and come up with a rough sketch of what you have in mind. A skeleton. Then you add your details, your colors, your brushstrokes laden with water and paint and concentration. You focus on getting it right, balancing the tones and drawing the right lines that build your piece. And sometimes, you paint a stroke that surprisingly makes all the difference, a strong step towards achieving the effect you were aiming for: the perfect balance. But even if that balance is never fully achieved, the process of balancing itself is not fruitless. In refining your art, you yourself are be refined. You learn what not to paint and what to add in order to achieve a fuller work. As I continue to live and create, may I cast away that which detracts, fight against my ignorance, and keep and cultivate that which is good, true, and gives life.

Aug 23, 20102 notes
Play
Aug 23, 20107 notes
Aug 23, 20101 note
today

-accidentally drop kicked my phone. thank God it still works haha
-finally ordered my first drink at starbucks. actually someone else ordered it for me. so yes, i will still be using “I have never ordered a drink from Starbucks.” if i play a game of “I have never…” with you :D

Aug 22, 2010
Aug 22, 2010
Aug 22, 2010
current listens

Tightrope by Janelle Monae. I like her oxfords.
Lost Lost by The Temper Trap. kids lip syncing? endearing.
Daniela Spector - I don’t understand what she’s saying but it still sounds pretty
Ori Avni - “Spacy” reminds me of coldplay.
All Delighted People ep
by Sufjan Stevens. He’s going on tour!

sufjan stevens via crookedtooth, daniela spector & ori avni via fasteater

Aug 21, 20102 notes
Aug 20, 2010
cousin i love you!!!!!!

aint enough exclamation points to contain this lovin (!)
i hope you have a beautiful day tomorrow!

and for all the other people who are not my cousin but still reading this,
i hope you have a beautiful day tomorrow as well!

Aug 16, 20102 notes

He breaks the power of canceled sin
He sets the prisoners free
His blood can make the foulest clean
His blood availed for me

He speaks and listening to His voice
New life the dead receive
The mournful broken hearts rejoice

There are so few words
That never grow old

Jesus,

Aug 12, 2010
Aug 12, 20102 notes
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