Saturday, December 29, 2012
From My Sketchbook: Small Bird
This drawing that I did is from a lesson in Violet's Devotional Sketchbook. I ended up using it as the cover of a birthday card I made for my dad and now it's framed and hanging up next to another drawing I made for him for Father's day when I was really little (ironically, that one is of a bird as well!)
Friday, December 21, 2012
A Walk in the Mall
The choir, they sound like angels. Standing a story above them in the Mall of America I am halted in my steps as they start one of my favorite songs, the haunting "Once Upon a December" from Anastasia. And I stay, listen till the song is completely over, enchanted by the beautiful voices rising to the high ceiling of the mall. Never have I enjoyed a song more than this one, sung by high school girls in the middle of the busyness of Mall of America. I leave with a smile on my face, spirit lifted. Still I listen as I walk away and they start another song; hear it fade slowly with each step. A little ways on a beautiful water fountain catches my eye; the water is pure blue and running quietly, bubbling over the weathered looking basin. I pause again and watch it, listen to it and I remember the sound of the voices, of the choir singing heavenly, soul haunting lyrics. People walk past and I am oblivious to them in this moment of peace. But the moment quickly passes and I walk on; surrounded by a sea of faces. I look into them all; faces happy and smiling, faces tired and emotionless. My soul flies... God’s beauty can be found everywhere if one only looks. I walk through stores, browse the quiet Barnes and Noble when I need a rest, and smell delicious fragrances in a chocolate shop. Life is sweet, just like the sample of candy I nibble on.
Keep your eyes open and you’ll find the most enchanting things in the most unexpected places. This is what I have found to be true in the Mall of America.
Keep your eyes open and you’ll find the most enchanting things in the most unexpected places. This is what I have found to be true in the Mall of America.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
From My Notebook: Grey Raindrops
This short piece I wrote is inspired by Enya's song; "Trains and Winter Rains"
It’s chilly, not the temperature; my heart. The train car bumps and jostles around, I can hear the wheels turning endlessly. The light has faded behind the black storm clouds and as I gaze out the window, millions of little raindrops splatter the pane, streaking past and blurring together into a cold grey. I can’t make out the buildings it’s so dark; so grey… everything is grey; even my mood. I think about the home I’m headed to, and I wonder if she’ll be there… probably not. There’s never a hot meal prepared and waiting for me when I arrive, just empty bedrooms. On nights when I come home to find that she’s left without explanation as to where, I look up at the endless stars and wonder… is this all there is? Silent rooms, take out cartons and empty eyes. The train slows to a stop… my stop. But I don’t get out. I sit… lost in thought; empty thoughts of grayness, and the train rumbles on. There’s no point in going home, it’s not even a home to go to anymore, not with a wife gone countless nights and when home, a cold glance greets me with no word. So I travel on… but where to? The grey skies whisper my name, and I think… what if this train took me all the way to the stars? To those friends that shone down upon me on those lonely nights… I might even feel happy again, to open my eyes and find myself surrounded by eternal beauty. The city rushes past, various shades of grey blurring into one; my life stares at me from the window. I travel on, where to? No one knows.
It’s chilly, not the temperature; my heart. The train car bumps and jostles around, I can hear the wheels turning endlessly. The light has faded behind the black storm clouds and as I gaze out the window, millions of little raindrops splatter the pane, streaking past and blurring together into a cold grey. I can’t make out the buildings it’s so dark; so grey… everything is grey; even my mood. I think about the home I’m headed to, and I wonder if she’ll be there… probably not. There’s never a hot meal prepared and waiting for me when I arrive, just empty bedrooms. On nights when I come home to find that she’s left without explanation as to where, I look up at the endless stars and wonder… is this all there is? Silent rooms, take out cartons and empty eyes. The train slows to a stop… my stop. But I don’t get out. I sit… lost in thought; empty thoughts of grayness, and the train rumbles on. There’s no point in going home, it’s not even a home to go to anymore, not with a wife gone countless nights and when home, a cold glance greets me with no word. So I travel on… but where to? The grey skies whisper my name, and I think… what if this train took me all the way to the stars? To those friends that shone down upon me on those lonely nights… I might even feel happy again, to open my eyes and find myself surrounded by eternal beauty. The city rushes past, various shades of grey blurring into one; my life stares at me from the window. I travel on, where to? No one knows.
Friday, November 9, 2012
From My Notebook: Little Red Ball
The ball soars upward, a streak of red in the perfect blue sky. When will it come back down to my waiting hands? Was I really that strong to throw it so high?
But then I realize; it’s not coming down.
I gaze up at it, a small red dot, growing ever smaller. I laugh and wave good bye to it. It is free, rising above the world of gravity; through chilly clouds, past soaring birds. Brave little ball, how scary it must be to be the first to show the world that laws are only words.
Up and up it climbs, what a view it must see! For an instant I wish I could be up there with it, to be so free. But life still holds me bound to earth at the will of gravity. Still further up it goes, past comets and shooting stars. Will it return home? What a brave little ball, shining up in the galaxies, brighter and happier than any star around it.
“Billy, are you going to toss me the ball?” I hear daddy’s voice. I flinch, back in the real world.
Looking down I see that same little red ball in my hands. I laugh again and toss it to dad.
“Don’t worry, little ball, I know where you’ve been!” I whisper to it as it flies through the air, up and up, free! Then gravity pulls it back, the invisible leash drawing tight.
It arches gracefully and lands in my dad’s hand.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
The Car Drive Home
The road stretches on
and on, into blankness and all I see are pairs of red brake light of the cars
ahead; the white headlights of the cars rushing past and all of these floating
lights being caught in the raindrops on the windshield, creating millions of tiny
stars. The music on the stereo takes the main stage over conversation as I gaze
out the black windows, absorbed in my own thoughts. I think about an upcoming
writing competition I’m about to enter into. With all the competitions I’ve
ever entered in my life (mostly coloring pages from the local newspaper when I
was little) I have never won a single one, never even gotten feedback from
them. All these memories of failed competitions make me wonder what’s the use
of entering another one? There will always be someone better at what I do out there
and the judges will always pick them. But then a quote comes to mind,
“Use
talents you posses; the woods would be very silent if no birds sang there
except those that sang best.”
And then I realize the point of competitions is
not so much to win, but to do your very best, to always be pushing yourself
further and to fail gracefully. For it is how we deal with failure that says
who we really are, not our number of accomplishments. So I resolve, right here,
on this quite drive home; that I will never give up, even if my failures are
100 to 1. Because I know that every rejection of my work only makes me better,
and I never know when this next entry will be the one that’ll win. My hopes
rise high, and as we get closer to home, closer to the end of the car trip, I
look up to the beautiful stars that sprinkle the night sky. They may be
obscured by the lights of this world and the clouds and rain, but still they
are there, hidden jewels, waiting for their time to shine.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Broken Trophies
Michael Phelps just got 4th in a swimming race at the London
2012 Olympics; plus his world record was broken by the winner, another
American. It just goes to show how pointless trophies, awards, and accolades
are. Sure they're nice, but records are always broken, there will always be
someone better. Trophies gather dust, and heroes of the past are forgotten;
left in the cobwebs of their achievements for the NEW strongest person, the NEW record
breaker. It’s depressing if you think about it; popularity is so fickle. One
day you're a super star, the next you're old news. This is why life shouldn't
be lived for the temporary achievement; the goal in life isn't the next trophy.
It’s about the journey; and ultimately, your eternal destination.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Aurora Theater Shooting
When an evil crime is committed, Innocent lives lost; what do you do? What
do you think... what do you say? There’s nothing; nothing you can say or do
that will make the pain go away. The illusion of safety has been rudely, but
truthfully, torn to pieces. No one is truly safe. All it takes is one man, one
firing gun... one bomb, to make people see how fragile life really is. Where is
the good in all the darkness? Where is hope when evil swoops down with its ugly fangs bared? They are found
in the officer who lays down his life to save others, in the prayer groups that
gather to pray for the wounded, in the comfort from one friend to another.
People come together when lives are torn apart, life will go on, even when it's
hard to see it at first. The darkness may be present for this moment, but light
shines brightest in the darkness, and the good news is; this darkness will end, the
dawn is coming.
"In the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer." - Samwise Gamgee, The Two Towers
"In the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer." - Samwise Gamgee, The Two Towers
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)