words tumble out like tears. urged on by pain.
it eases the ache some to write. i can let some of it go that way
ease the pressure against my ribs.
someday i'll never weep again. i'll laugh always because i'll be with my Savior
'til then I wait
my heart the broken, scarred palace of the Creator.
i wait and write and trust the rest of the pages
to the Person who knows every line of my life-book.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Thursday, August 23, 2012
The Heart of the Universe
My heart is a wild stallion, it heeds no guidance!
It bucks and runs to the call of the wind.
It leaps in a moment,
its course is uncertain and dangerous.
It doesn't heed reason's reins
yet it knows the voice of its Master.
It will turn when He calls.
It will leave the plains
and rest in meadows of peace.
It will sleep,
content in the Heart of the universe.
It bucks and runs to the call of the wind.
It leaps in a moment,
its course is uncertain and dangerous.
It doesn't heed reason's reins
yet it knows the voice of its Master.
It will turn when He calls.
It will leave the plains
and rest in meadows of peace.
It will sleep,
content in the Heart of the universe.
Monday, July 23, 2012
[Contents: Me]
So very big. Me.
All the miniscule epiphanies that make up
myself.
I'm full, no
filled. Filled up
and overflowing.
Are you sure I can stretch this far?
up.
pulled
being
I'm
Words. Music. Colors. Nature.
They pull me up
Upward. Heavenward.
The stretching starts to hurt
I can't do this!
You're giving me too many words.
I'll break
I'm filled and filled and filled
Until I can fill the pages.
Pages and pages
all full of myself.
Not of myself,
of what filled
Me.
Endless circles of filling and full.
Life, death, and new life again
until I finally break
and the words soak out
onto the pavement and
into the dirt.
They stay on the pages
waiting for another empty container to fill.
All the miniscule epiphanies that make up
myself.
I'm full, no
filled. Filled up
and overflowing.
Are you sure I can stretch this far?
up.
pulled
being
I'm
Words. Music. Colors. Nature.
They pull me up
Upward. Heavenward.
The stretching starts to hurt
I can't do this!
You're giving me too many words.
I'll break
I'm filled and filled and filled
Until I can fill the pages.
Pages and pages
all full of myself.
Not of myself,
of what filled
Me.
Endless circles of filling and full.
Life, death, and new life again
until I finally break
and the words soak out
onto the pavement and
into the dirt.
They stay on the pages
waiting for another empty container to fill.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Copycatting
I look. I look. And look again.
I see. Not everything.
Just some things but those things,
they are beautiful
They are teachers and the world is a classroom...
Design shows me the Designer
How can a mind exist big enough to imagine every shade and tone of a sunset?
In the beginning, the world was a canvas, formless and void
and then words. light. forms. colors.
And ever since, we've been copycats
because we are in awe of the original
And we can't comprehend how it was done.
I see. Not everything.
Just some things but those things,
they are beautiful
They are teachers and the world is a classroom...
Design shows me the Designer
How can a mind exist big enough to imagine every shade and tone of a sunset?
In the beginning, the world was a canvas, formless and void
and then words. light. forms. colors.
And ever since, we've been copycats
because we are in awe of the original
And we can't comprehend how it was done.
Monday, June 11, 2012
Air to Breathe
Well...apparently a result of switching majors is that you fall off the map for a while!
I'm a month into my spring semester and it is intense. Neither of my professors took anything out so its two full classes condensed into seven weeks. Its been really stressful but the art class I'm taking: a film photography class is amazing!
It's like doing a magic trick. I put the paper in just the right spot under the photo enlarger, shoot the light onto it for just a few seconds, dump it into developer liquid and voila! A perfect image appears out of thin air!
Spending hours in the dark room gives me lots of time to think too. Its really neat learning the tricks of this art that's been around for so long. It has a history. Tons of brilliant photographers before me have stood in a very similar dark room, hoping their photographs develop correctly. Its neat to realize that I'm now linked into that chain.
And that is honestly what art is all about. No one creates in a vaccuum. We all stand on each other's shoulders. We inspire one another. Ansel Adams, Van Gogh, and Monet have already impacted my artwork. Their color choices, or lack thereof, and their compositions spark my creativity and get my juices flowing. We worry today about copyright issues and I think that's important. I certainly don't want some guy to steal my stuff and get the benefits for it but at the same time, we need to also realize that if we lock everything away inside their own cells, we are going to be the worse for it. Artists and writers have always worked in groups, talked about their ideas and fed off one another. There is nothing more inspiring then bouncing ideas around with someone who understands your passion.
Art needs protection but it also needs a little freedom to breathe and grow and thrive!
I'm a month into my spring semester and it is intense. Neither of my professors took anything out so its two full classes condensed into seven weeks. Its been really stressful but the art class I'm taking: a film photography class is amazing!
It's like doing a magic trick. I put the paper in just the right spot under the photo enlarger, shoot the light onto it for just a few seconds, dump it into developer liquid and voila! A perfect image appears out of thin air!
Spending hours in the dark room gives me lots of time to think too. Its really neat learning the tricks of this art that's been around for so long. It has a history. Tons of brilliant photographers before me have stood in a very similar dark room, hoping their photographs develop correctly. Its neat to realize that I'm now linked into that chain.
And that is honestly what art is all about. No one creates in a vaccuum. We all stand on each other's shoulders. We inspire one another. Ansel Adams, Van Gogh, and Monet have already impacted my artwork. Their color choices, or lack thereof, and their compositions spark my creativity and get my juices flowing. We worry today about copyright issues and I think that's important. I certainly don't want some guy to steal my stuff and get the benefits for it but at the same time, we need to also realize that if we lock everything away inside their own cells, we are going to be the worse for it. Artists and writers have always worked in groups, talked about their ideas and fed off one another. There is nothing more inspiring then bouncing ideas around with someone who understands your passion.
Art needs protection but it also needs a little freedom to breathe and grow and thrive!
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Identity Theft: Me Changing Me
Tons of decisions lately!
The biggest one so far has been a drastic shift in my major. All my life, I've considered myself a writer. It was part of my identity. I was a word-smith. It was what I was good at, what I loved, what I wanted to do for the rest of my life and that was final.
Then, I took a 2-D art class this past semester. I've always had a part time interest in art, drawing my characters and painting every once in a very great while but this was different. I would leave class full of colors and compositions. I learned to blend colors, to place together to cause the exact right reaction in a viewer. And suddenly, I discovered that I was becoming bilingual and that words were no longer my only love.
As amazing as this new knowledge was, it also proved difficult as I considered changing my major to a focus on art. But I was a writer! That was part of who I was. It took some time before I could accept this art passion. I pondered and painted and prayed... A LOT! I was two years into school. What was I doing changing focus now?
In the end, the colors won out. I accepted my dual identity was writer-artist, got inspired by the possibilities of that combination. And I chose to go for a Bachelor in Fine Arts, thus adding a year to my education, and endless art classes to my itinerary. It has forced me to take both spring and summer classes as well as a ton of art classes in the fall. It is taking time and effort and lots of research. But I love what I'm getting back. I will always be a storyteller: now I just have more ways to tell my stories.
It's an exciting ride and I'll keep posting. I'm sure there will be lots more words and colors to come...
The biggest one so far has been a drastic shift in my major. All my life, I've considered myself a writer. It was part of my identity. I was a word-smith. It was what I was good at, what I loved, what I wanted to do for the rest of my life and that was final.
Then, I took a 2-D art class this past semester. I've always had a part time interest in art, drawing my characters and painting every once in a very great while but this was different. I would leave class full of colors and compositions. I learned to blend colors, to place together to cause the exact right reaction in a viewer. And suddenly, I discovered that I was becoming bilingual and that words were no longer my only love.
As amazing as this new knowledge was, it also proved difficult as I considered changing my major to a focus on art. But I was a writer! That was part of who I was. It took some time before I could accept this art passion. I pondered and painted and prayed... A LOT! I was two years into school. What was I doing changing focus now?
In the end, the colors won out. I accepted my dual identity was writer-artist, got inspired by the possibilities of that combination. And I chose to go for a Bachelor in Fine Arts, thus adding a year to my education, and endless art classes to my itinerary. It has forced me to take both spring and summer classes as well as a ton of art classes in the fall. It is taking time and effort and lots of research. But I love what I'm getting back. I will always be a storyteller: now I just have more ways to tell my stories.
It's an exciting ride and I'll keep posting. I'm sure there will be lots more words and colors to come...
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
No Limits to Inspiration
What inspires you?
For me, there are so many things in my life that inspire me. A few would be when I can see the thunderclouds and smell the rain but the sky above me is still clear, when my sisters and I laugh until we run out of breath, and when my favorite song comes on during the last few minutes of my drive home and I can blare it at max volume. There is so much that I want to do, so much that I want to give to the world. My writing and my art let me do that. Colors and word let me explain what I feel like as I'm watching those thunderclouds roll in or how I go all softy smiles when my nine year old brother gives me an unexpected hug. Art isn't always seen as something that is very valid or important but it lets us communicate those moments of inspiration to one another. Without them, how could we explain such wonders?
Anyone can add art to their life: maybe your art is the magenta tie you add to your conservative outfit or the garden you are growing outside or the sharpie doodles you always do on your hands. Art is the outward expression of inward genius and the best part about it...there are no limits to the ways you can use it.
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