So I'll greet you with an admission: I've been trying too hard to come up with something new and refined to say- and omit the things I see as trivial. Consequently, I haven't posted anything- nearly abandoning a worthy project. I apologize if this is too unrefined, and the texture is inconsistent for your taste. I know this becomes valuable to someone- even if it's only me.
All in all, as a new semester has just closed behind me, so the pressure to produce is gone- and the desire for it has promptly returned. Despite fatigue, I feel it necessary to chronicle what exactly it is I've experienced.
Being as my thoughts diverge so greatly from nearly every person I've ever met- I have to conclude that I am a rarity. (You are too- you just might fail to believe it.) I'm not afraid of a lack in commonality- rather I fear the depreciation of the singular things because we have little or no reference to their beauty. Things I take for granted as common sense or mindless drivel can be a deep draught or novel flavor to someone else's taste. Likewise, I see the same must be for me too.
As Truth is the only trustworthy thing, solid in an undulating world, we seek to hold it for as long as it pertains to our surrounding. Our minds can only hold so many things at once- and so we methodically climb steps of truth to to heights of conscious awareness- letting go of lesser concrete ideas to let us go onward.
Because everything has its context, I find the greatest importance in communication. My writing becomes dense and hard to palate as i am stuck trying to wring out every fluid ounce of meaning in me. Because I have not yet the literary strength to purify clout from meaning, I hint at sorrow for the loss of my acuteness. We often tire of our own thoughts before we have the chance to communicate them. It's that, or we become hopeless that anyone would pursue our mind to the exhaustive point of its case.
This is why friendship is so dependent on close affections. Without that proximal intimacy we frustrate the meanings we wish to convey. We are too forgetful and temperamental to well muddle through to explaining the more ultimate thoughts. We are still very much like children- still comforted by the commonality of experience- but refined so much as to needing a much more substantial commonality to share. With our fate of learning and creating, our utmost desire becomes that of finding someone who has the same fate to learn similar flavors and nuances of thought. We desire the most unnatural type of love- one of mutual respect honor and strength. (Lewis 91,96,97,103, 104- The four Loves.)
When I read from C.S. Lewis and see the thoughts that I've put down (totally aside) mirror or parallel his- I can't help a gasp of surprise and a warmness of understanding. I have an agony that is perceiving the misunderstood. If I compare myself to a proven literary master, and am so weak and unskilled- I just prove myself foolish. If I don't associate the literal comparison, you have no foundation to empathize my situation in its most intimate parts.
I would like to say that these thoughts and preconceptions are often clutter- things we feel we need to concern about before we can get to the truth of anything. This is a falsity and a clarity in one. Sadly, addressing them is the only rudimentary skill we have at hewing out a basin to hold our argument. I must contextualize my world for you, or the relative nihilistic nature of our cognitive styles cannot communicate.
Though he cannot respect me- for his passing on- Lewis is now one of my dearest friends despite only "hearing" less than a million words to speak of his intellectual affections. Because I have a common bond- a place I've arrived at all on my own, and see he's been there too- it makes me feel that someone would understand my hopes for greatness.
You see, it is not that I doubt my capability for greatness that hinders me so strongly and dampens my wick- it is that I don't feel that anyone could perceive a change if i did become great. Greatness wouldn't do anything good if no one knew to be helped by it.
You can think me foolish to aspire- but I won't be mocked, for it is my genius to realize that everyone is purposed for greatness- not many accept the call, and still fewer persevere to the point. Anyone can take a picture- but seeing how the world speaks without words is a necessary vantage for a photographer.
How to have more thoughts than what you say, and show that the world speaks it, is the job of a journalist. And how to show anyone what that truly means is the miracle of a true photographer. So it is with our minds- and writers write to freeze one pictorial tangible truth. Many times we shoot short and the focus is off- or the main object is only partially revealed because the perspective is too close to consider the immensity of it. Still more, we must consider that some photographers of the mind have dirt in the lens of their scope- and so blot out vital details in the scheme of reality. In the end, beautiful things can be a blur without the right focus and attention to perspective. So it is with having many good thoughts- but until it's on paper, it can't be measured, weighted, and tested. Until a thought has reached a definition, it's still a relative rule.
Even if a picture is worth a thousand words- those thousand words (or more) must be thought by the artist before it can be materialized. Without the preset of cognitively forming our creation, our product becomes a thousand words of blah from whence it came.
It's a shaky thought, but I think this note is relative to the ideals of evolving the mind. Owen Barfield may be seeping out of me through exposure in the works of C.S. Lewis.
I feel like I am too out of shape- or my mind isn't sharp enough to cut all the way through the bonds that hold my thoughts to this mud. I tire far too long before I've reached my intended destination. Case in point-I had planned on linking these ideas to the phenomena in my life wherein I seem to have very well failed the most important/growing/imbuing/fertile/nutritious/fostering/cultured/powerful/poised/destined semester of school I've had so far. I've gained more this semester than all of the semesters before altogether, but could not be where I am without them. Still, I've somehow squandered my stewardship despite extreme efforts. I think my quality dwindles with my hopes of it ever being complete. I believe also that I am cursed with a sick will- a plague of lethargy in my soul. I have a song I must write down, but yet... it evades me to even think long of it. Times will come when I will make the best of what I should, and make the best of not doing what I want.
Thank you for reading-
Yours (as you know me)
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Waste Land
So I just watched what I expected to be a somewhat lame documentary about modern art. The documentary "WASTE LAND follows renowned artist Vik Muniz as he journeys from his home base in Brooklyn to his native Brazil and the world's largest garbage dump, Jardim Gramacho, located on the outskirts of Rio de Janeiro. There he photographs an eclectic band of “catadores”—self-designated pickers of recyclable materials. Muniz’s initial objective was to “paint” the catadores with garbage. However, his collaboration with these inspiring characters as they recreate photographic images of themselves out of garbage reveals both the dignity and despair of the catadores as they begin to re-imagine their lives. "
Somehow the people of this junk heap became a part of something much greater: an idea- a realization. As the movie followed the journey from meeting these people who remain optimistic, despite the circumstances of life which led them to this job, to everyone being changed by seeing themselves in such a positive way- my own eyes were changed.
I was exposed to the story of a people living in what we might call destitution- getting $20-$25 for a full day of hard and dangerous work and being very thankful to God for it. In one of the first interviews with a worker, the man was asked if he was unhappy. He replied "No, I am fine. If I complain, God will need to punish me." How these people can find humility in their place astounds me. It even breaks my heart. Instead of being angry at everything- even after being empowered to leave, some returned because they missed their "colleagues." The community there was much more loving and supporting than any I've lived in- simply because they all know that they struggle together.
A large mantra among them is that their work is honorable- not dirty. One woman commented "It's hard, but it's better than turning tricks for the Copa Cabana. The father of my children is a drug dealer- but if I depended on him to provide for my children I'd be screwed. When I first started riding the bus home after working a few days, women would look at me and say 'what's that smell?' and I knew it was me. Finally I just started asking people if I stink before they could speak. What I do is better than prostituting myself. I know that what I do is stinky, but when I get home- I can take a shower and I'll be fine." One man who died during the making of the movie was highly revered by everyone- and highly quoted. He admitted that he hadn't been educated at all- but out of his love he spoke wisdom when speaking to the people. He encouraged the young people who had just arrived at the job "When you get your money, don't think that it's dirty money! What you do is honorable! It's better to be here and working hard than to be rich and have no morals."
In a country so riddled with crimes such as prostitution and robbery, where drug cartels war in the streets- and people are happy when there is quiet- here is found an exception: a people, an example, of the lower middle class working hard and having more meaningful conversation than most. They find books which are thrown away and give it to the few with enough literacy to read and talk to them about what they read. Most books are just recycled in ignorance. They have deep conversations about philosophy and about great thinkers- deciding where they themselves lie in school of thought. Their emotions run deep when talking of their dreams and their heartache- and they aren't afraid to let tears go. They remain respectful and thankful to God for the little they do have. These are the loving people many people would throw away just the same as the refuse they work in.
As they were noting the prices of some items of what we might think of as garbage- they added that the millionaires' garbage gets mixed in with the poorest of families. They would judge what kind of family the trash came from. Looking at the pile of garbage and mess in my room- which before watching this movie I felt disgusted by, I now feel very grateful for. The things I have in my college dorm room- where some might think that what I live in is much less than the comforts of home- my eyes are opened to the fact that it is quite the contrary. I am more than wealthy- and now somewhat ashamed.
The artist who decided to begin this project actually had humble beginnings not far from where they decided to perform this transformation. He said "I'd rather want everything and have nothing than have everything and want nothing. Because at least when you want something your life has a meaning- it's worthwhile. From the moment you think you have everything, you have to search for meaning in other things- and having nothing. I spent half my life wanting everything and having nothing, and now I have everything and I don't want anything... When I was poor I wanted material things. I just wanted to have things. I had to buy a lot of crap to get rid of that complex." The artist himself did not know that what he started would result in something so drastic.
Look around you. Look how great the blessings God has given you are! You're reading this off of a computer right now. Today I asked God in earnest- "show me how to love more" and of all mediums- He spoke to my heart through a documentary on an art project. This is the faithfulness of my God. I highly suggest you watch this movie yourself. Draw your own conclusions- have your eyes be opened and your heart changed. God sent us into this world to save the people in it- not store up nice things. He allows us to have them as a blessing, but we can make it a curse so easily.
Somehow the people of this junk heap became a part of something much greater: an idea- a realization. As the movie followed the journey from meeting these people who remain optimistic, despite the circumstances of life which led them to this job, to everyone being changed by seeing themselves in such a positive way- my own eyes were changed.
I was exposed to the story of a people living in what we might call destitution- getting $20-$25 for a full day of hard and dangerous work and being very thankful to God for it. In one of the first interviews with a worker, the man was asked if he was unhappy. He replied "No, I am fine. If I complain, God will need to punish me." How these people can find humility in their place astounds me. It even breaks my heart. Instead of being angry at everything- even after being empowered to leave, some returned because they missed their "colleagues." The community there was much more loving and supporting than any I've lived in- simply because they all know that they struggle together.
A large mantra among them is that their work is honorable- not dirty. One woman commented "It's hard, but it's better than turning tricks for the Copa Cabana. The father of my children is a drug dealer- but if I depended on him to provide for my children I'd be screwed. When I first started riding the bus home after working a few days, women would look at me and say 'what's that smell?' and I knew it was me. Finally I just started asking people if I stink before they could speak. What I do is better than prostituting myself. I know that what I do is stinky, but when I get home- I can take a shower and I'll be fine." One man who died during the making of the movie was highly revered by everyone- and highly quoted. He admitted that he hadn't been educated at all- but out of his love he spoke wisdom when speaking to the people. He encouraged the young people who had just arrived at the job "When you get your money, don't think that it's dirty money! What you do is honorable! It's better to be here and working hard than to be rich and have no morals."
In a country so riddled with crimes such as prostitution and robbery, where drug cartels war in the streets- and people are happy when there is quiet- here is found an exception: a people, an example, of the lower middle class working hard and having more meaningful conversation than most. They find books which are thrown away and give it to the few with enough literacy to read and talk to them about what they read. Most books are just recycled in ignorance. They have deep conversations about philosophy and about great thinkers- deciding where they themselves lie in school of thought. Their emotions run deep when talking of their dreams and their heartache- and they aren't afraid to let tears go. They remain respectful and thankful to God for the little they do have. These are the loving people many people would throw away just the same as the refuse they work in.
As they were noting the prices of some items of what we might think of as garbage- they added that the millionaires' garbage gets mixed in with the poorest of families. They would judge what kind of family the trash came from. Looking at the pile of garbage and mess in my room- which before watching this movie I felt disgusted by, I now feel very grateful for. The things I have in my college dorm room- where some might think that what I live in is much less than the comforts of home- my eyes are opened to the fact that it is quite the contrary. I am more than wealthy- and now somewhat ashamed.
The artist who decided to begin this project actually had humble beginnings not far from where they decided to perform this transformation. He said "I'd rather want everything and have nothing than have everything and want nothing. Because at least when you want something your life has a meaning- it's worthwhile. From the moment you think you have everything, you have to search for meaning in other things- and having nothing. I spent half my life wanting everything and having nothing, and now I have everything and I don't want anything... When I was poor I wanted material things. I just wanted to have things. I had to buy a lot of crap to get rid of that complex." The artist himself did not know that what he started would result in something so drastic.
Look around you. Look how great the blessings God has given you are! You're reading this off of a computer right now. Today I asked God in earnest- "show me how to love more" and of all mediums- He spoke to my heart through a documentary on an art project. This is the faithfulness of my God. I highly suggest you watch this movie yourself. Draw your own conclusions- have your eyes be opened and your heart changed. God sent us into this world to save the people in it- not store up nice things. He allows us to have them as a blessing, but we can make it a curse so easily.
Subtle flavor
So today seems to have a subtle message for me. In this blog I seek for something good to share in what I know or feel- but I won't say that I found anything inexplicable rare or extraordinarily beautiful today. In truth- I want this blog to give note to the fine blessings and passing thoughts that God gives us. I want to take notice and give praise to Him for the subtle things that normally pass before the unseeing eyes of those who think lesser of great collisions of fate.
Today was interesting. The sky was clear- and I feel the bitter fingers of winter slipping off for good. With warmth to look forward to, food provided for me, good projects to be a proud steward of, and flickering hope of new ministry venues being lit, I'll say that it was a very nice day.
Because I was finishing the aesthetics of my blog page in chapel, a friend of mine noted that she also had a blog. I had other things to do, so I put it off until just a few minutes ago. After a somewhat challenging songwriting session, I decided to check my mail on the off chance that someone decided to "love me." I received two things: my passport and a bill.
I observe things very well in conjunction with each other- and even observe in the scope of the symbolic connotations things might have. The bill looked new- not like the ones I was expecting, so I opened it in curiosity. It is apparently a bill from the doctor gone to a debt collector with a bill of $900+ (which should have been absolutely covered by my insurance.)
How I read this symbolically= I receive the tool to go serve and explore. I receive the accusation of the world's claim on me- saying that adventure is impossible and that my ties to debt and duty will keep me imprisoned as a slave, to the false remedies, caused by the sickness inherently tied to us in the scope of our curse.
With my level of faith- I know that God will provide for me to fulfill His great plans for my life. My developing understanding of "Heaven," and resurrection and the freedom we have from the claims of anything that speaks against the wholeness of God's claimed ones, allows me to have a peace about my future. I live well according to the verse that says "Do not worry about your life- for who of you, by worrying, can add an hour to you life?" but I thought... "why am I not more affected- at least burdened or affected?" The answer came as I was reading my friends' blog. The whole message of her blog is of love, light and uplifting truth- pointed at God's benevolence for us. She had a rebuke against stress which included the verse "“He will have no fear of bad news; his heart is steadfast, trusting in the Lord. His heart is secure, he will have no fear; in the end he will look in triumph on his foes.” (Psalm 112:7-8)"
So I know that the powers that seek to hold me in bond, which is in conflict with the plan that God has for me, will not succeed.
I know the money I do have is going to missions in one way or another. As of late I have been refined more and more in the Spirit. God is furthering my gifts of music, prophecy, and knowledge. As I pursue my gifts in music (and now have the venue of going to Carnegie Hall to perform with my choir) I realize the plan God has for me is much too grandiose to be bothered by the claims against the potential and purpose of my life.
You see, I know that even kings and rulers will be ruined in all their plans. A day is coming when the sin of men will not have the strong hold of fear in the lives of so many. There are oppressors who seek to destroy the people of this country and this freedom we possess. As men in high seats of power smile in wickedness at the contracts they have made with people- they will fall from their lofty places. The Lord will cause justice. Soon there will come a day when the capitalistic oligarchy which rules this nation will be removed from its seat. No longer will the sick be oppressed by the rich. (i'll get into this in a different post)
In the same way- the truth and power of Christ will spread as the lens of sin is taken off. When His power is fully shown, there will be healing and freedom. Now is the time where we remain stewards of what we are given to work with to prepare for the time of harvest that is surely coming.
Consequently, as today has an atmosphere of cool wind rushing through like cool water, so I feel the refreshing and renewing hand of God pressing me to remember that warmer days are coming- that more promise has yet to be fulfilled. Though I am made fully aware of the taxing things that are set before me- I have no worry because I am in His hand.
Today was interesting. The sky was clear- and I feel the bitter fingers of winter slipping off for good. With warmth to look forward to, food provided for me, good projects to be a proud steward of, and flickering hope of new ministry venues being lit, I'll say that it was a very nice day.
Because I was finishing the aesthetics of my blog page in chapel, a friend of mine noted that she also had a blog. I had other things to do, so I put it off until just a few minutes ago. After a somewhat challenging songwriting session, I decided to check my mail on the off chance that someone decided to "love me." I received two things: my passport and a bill.
I observe things very well in conjunction with each other- and even observe in the scope of the symbolic connotations things might have. The bill looked new- not like the ones I was expecting, so I opened it in curiosity. It is apparently a bill from the doctor gone to a debt collector with a bill of $900+ (which should have been absolutely covered by my insurance.)
How I read this symbolically= I receive the tool to go serve and explore. I receive the accusation of the world's claim on me- saying that adventure is impossible and that my ties to debt and duty will keep me imprisoned as a slave, to the false remedies, caused by the sickness inherently tied to us in the scope of our curse.
With my level of faith- I know that God will provide for me to fulfill His great plans for my life. My developing understanding of "Heaven," and resurrection and the freedom we have from the claims of anything that speaks against the wholeness of God's claimed ones, allows me to have a peace about my future. I live well according to the verse that says "Do not worry about your life- for who of you, by worrying, can add an hour to you life?" but I thought... "why am I not more affected- at least burdened or affected?" The answer came as I was reading my friends' blog. The whole message of her blog is of love, light and uplifting truth- pointed at God's benevolence for us. She had a rebuke against stress which included the verse "“He will have no fear of bad news; his heart is steadfast, trusting in the Lord. His heart is secure, he will have no fear; in the end he will look in triumph on his foes.” (Psalm 112:7-8)"
So I know that the powers that seek to hold me in bond, which is in conflict with the plan that God has for me, will not succeed.
I know the money I do have is going to missions in one way or another. As of late I have been refined more and more in the Spirit. God is furthering my gifts of music, prophecy, and knowledge. As I pursue my gifts in music (and now have the venue of going to Carnegie Hall to perform with my choir) I realize the plan God has for me is much too grandiose to be bothered by the claims against the potential and purpose of my life.
You see, I know that even kings and rulers will be ruined in all their plans. A day is coming when the sin of men will not have the strong hold of fear in the lives of so many. There are oppressors who seek to destroy the people of this country and this freedom we possess. As men in high seats of power smile in wickedness at the contracts they have made with people- they will fall from their lofty places. The Lord will cause justice. Soon there will come a day when the capitalistic oligarchy which rules this nation will be removed from its seat. No longer will the sick be oppressed by the rich. (i'll get into this in a different post)
In the same way- the truth and power of Christ will spread as the lens of sin is taken off. When His power is fully shown, there will be healing and freedom. Now is the time where we remain stewards of what we are given to work with to prepare for the time of harvest that is surely coming.
Consequently, as today has an atmosphere of cool wind rushing through like cool water, so I feel the refreshing and renewing hand of God pressing me to remember that warmer days are coming- that more promise has yet to be fulfilled. Though I am made fully aware of the taxing things that are set before me- I have no worry because I am in His hand.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Giving things a name
Yesterday I started a Twitter account upon someone's suggestion. After- I asked someone "what's the purpose of Twitter anyway?" He then related to me that "Twitter is more for people who want to be celebrities- who are trying to represent a certain 'brand' in a way." Immediately I realize Twitter is not what I want. I don't intend on being any sort of celebrity- nor do i (by nature) ascribe to any 'brand.'
I'm naming this blog "entropic serendipity" because my whole persona hints at something more subtle- something- "something." It's slightly chaotic in nature... always fading away before you can place a finger on it. It's "a figurative lack of order or predictability; gradual decline into disorder" with its root being mid 19th cent.: from en- 2 [inside] + Greek tropē =‘transformation.’ -denoting something in flux or changing into something different (not decisively decided.) Put all of that into that which is Serendipity in its entirety. "the faculty of making fortunate discoveries by accident" (finding beauty in a place you did not expect it)- always with the understanding that it requires a certain level of sagacity to ever experience.
I hope this will gradually become something exquisite- not "lofty" or airy. Things that happen in my life are so interestingly collided with my bumbling that I cannot claim to have any respect of hand in causing the beautiful things I see- I just want to share them. What I seek to contain cannot be grasped- much like the scent of the rain. In like manner, there are many who dislike rain because they cannot break their heart to love the experience betwixt the grayness of the sky, the chill, the wet- so it is an esoteric thing to appreciate. Note that those who have the mind to watch the rain are the ones who are gifted with seeing the world being ethereally cleansed.
The deepest collections of choice morsels are never ascribed to a brand. They are the homely and genuinely wrought things which we long for. The cornucopia of seasonings and elements that compose the taste of one person's experience is impossible to replicate. If it were not for the sympathetic and highly creative imaginative capabilities of those who search for more than they have- we would never be impassioned enough to work out a viable means of communicating the things we find so beautiful.
It was recently my sad observation of all of the small things which I will have appreciated and then lost forever that has spurred me to begin... telling you... my life.
The best flavors in cooking are bold and unique- much like the constructs of music. There are the base flavors that resonate strongly, the acids that electrify and illuminate, the juxtaposition of savory and sweet which sings out, the overtones which enrapture you and make you yearn, but- it is the complex aroma that first draws you and entices you.
I hope that I will achieve a good balance of elements in what I say so as to produce hearty sensations so that if you endure, it will not have been for any little purpose- but for a small portion of a great one. I wouldn't dare to use twitter- because it's not what I'm hoping for. 160 characters cannot express the intimate intentions I now understand to be of enough importance so as to inspire the words that follow.
I'm naming this blog "entropic serendipity" because my whole persona hints at something more subtle- something- "something." It's slightly chaotic in nature... always fading away before you can place a finger on it. It's "a figurative lack of order or predictability; gradual decline into disorder" with its root being mid 19th cent.: from en- 2 [inside] + Greek tropē =‘transformation.’ -denoting something in flux or changing into something different (not decisively decided.) Put all of that into that which is Serendipity in its entirety. "the faculty of making fortunate discoveries by accident" (finding beauty in a place you did not expect it)- always with the understanding that it requires a certain level of sagacity to ever experience.
I hope this will gradually become something exquisite- not "lofty" or airy. Things that happen in my life are so interestingly collided with my bumbling that I cannot claim to have any respect of hand in causing the beautiful things I see- I just want to share them. What I seek to contain cannot be grasped- much like the scent of the rain. In like manner, there are many who dislike rain because they cannot break their heart to love the experience betwixt the grayness of the sky, the chill, the wet- so it is an esoteric thing to appreciate. Note that those who have the mind to watch the rain are the ones who are gifted with seeing the world being ethereally cleansed.
The deepest collections of choice morsels are never ascribed to a brand. They are the homely and genuinely wrought things which we long for. The cornucopia of seasonings and elements that compose the taste of one person's experience is impossible to replicate. If it were not for the sympathetic and highly creative imaginative capabilities of those who search for more than they have- we would never be impassioned enough to work out a viable means of communicating the things we find so beautiful.
It was recently my sad observation of all of the small things which I will have appreciated and then lost forever that has spurred me to begin... telling you... my life.
The best flavors in cooking are bold and unique- much like the constructs of music. There are the base flavors that resonate strongly, the acids that electrify and illuminate, the juxtaposition of savory and sweet which sings out, the overtones which enrapture you and make you yearn, but- it is the complex aroma that first draws you and entices you.
I hope that I will achieve a good balance of elements in what I say so as to produce hearty sensations so that if you endure, it will not have been for any little purpose- but for a small portion of a great one. I wouldn't dare to use twitter- because it's not what I'm hoping for. 160 characters cannot express the intimate intentions I now understand to be of enough importance so as to inspire the words that follow.
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