Saturday 16 July 2011

In·cep·tion – noun 1. beginning; start; commencement.

http://academicinmotion.files.wordpress.com/2011/05/ideas.jpg




I'm pretty sure God let me have a baby so I could know what writing would be like. I just finished a week of self discovery and found the proverbial "tip" of my proverbial "iceberg" named writing. I also just finished a day of inspiring events (which I can't tell you because you wouldn't be inspired by them) and now want to write... need to write. I can feel a flood of ideas, scenarios, and characters - all of which I've never seen and have only felt tumbling around in my subconscious and sporadically kicking my subconscious ribs - trying to push themselves out of my vocabulary.

Here's a smattering, just for my own personal record:

He gets the same look on his face: The turning gears that knit his brow.

The coming of age for a lover, and dreamer and a sage.

People at work keep looking at me with their guards down and I think I heard someone's thoughts this week.

Plan. Trust. Change.

Something - anything - with faeries.


Things that make me come alive:
  1. Knowing my role.
  2. Making food look good on a plate/table.
  3. Effecting the person who's feelings are affecting me (that may need to be switched).
  4. Making a good joke.
  5. Wind.
  6. The feeling of God walking through my inside world in the cool of the day.
  7. Having something I do turn out well.
  8. When Jon says he needs me.
  9. This song:
Stand on the shores of a site unseen
The substance of this dwells in me
Cause my natural eyes only go skin deep
But the eyes of my heart anchor the sea
Plumbing the depths to the place in between
The tangible world and the land of a dreams
Because everything here ain’t quite it seems
There’s more beneath the appearance of things
A beggar could be king within the shadows,
Of a wing

And wisdom will honor everyone who will learn
To listen, to love, and to pray and discern
And to do the right thing even when it burns
And to live in the light through treacherous turns
A man is weak, but the spirit yearns
To keep on course from the bow to the stearn
And throw overboard every selfish concern
That tries to work for what can’t be earned
Sometimes the only way to return is to go,
Where the winds will take you

And to let go, of all, you cannot hold onto
For the hope, beyond,the blue

Yellow and gold as the new day dawns
Like a virgin unveiled who waited so long
To dance and rejoice and sing her song
And rest in the arms of a love so strong
No one comes unless they’re drawn
By the voice of desire that leads em’ along
To the redemption of what went wrong
By the blood that coveres the innocent one
No more separation
Between us.

So lift your voice just one more time
If there’s any hope may it be a sign
That everything was made to shine
Despite what you can see
So take this bread and drink this wine
And hide your spirit within the vine
Where all things will work by a good design
For those who will believe

And let go, of all, we cannot hold onto
For the hope, beyond, the blue

Said I let go, of all, I could not hold onto
For the hope, I have, in you

Sunday 10 July 2011

Maxine

I imagine what may be true;
I see myself in this old picture of you.
It could be the bright glow in your eyes,
Life soaking into everyone you knew.

You must have loved horses,
How they used to roam the plains.
Reminding you of how you felt
When the winds blew the grains.

I barely know your name,
But you were beautiful like me.
You smoked a pipe,
And looked happy on your wedding day.

Did you love trees?
Did you love food?
Did you love the crunch of feet on sand roads?
I’m walking around and thinking of you.

Of all I don’t know,
There’s something I do.
You loved your family,
And they tell me of you.

Thursday 7 July 2011

He sings, he dances, he learns things.

He sang along with me today while I changed his diaper. He said "all done" after he went potty in the toilet. His cheeks are big and he woke up with his hands behind his head and giggled when I walked in the room. He nods yes and no. His hair's bright blonde and long and his eyes sparkle when he plays. He's more himself everyday, and I love to introduce him to new people, knowing he'll capture their hearts. He has life boiling out of his pores and all he does is exist. He fills me up with love and calls me Linda. Oh Lord, may we grow him well.