I watched "Julie/Julia" yesterday. Makes me want to do something interesting with my blog.
So, I need ideas for blog-revamping. Or a something-revamping. Or just anything I can use as a New Year's resolution so I can feel like something new is happening in my life...
1 New Thing Every Day. There's an idea. I should try to do something new every day. Then again...that's a vague term, and very easily boring. I mean...if I just read a new book every day, things would get boring pretty quickly. Or ate a new ice cream flavor. Are there even 365 ice cream flavors??
I got a webcam for Christmas. So technically, I could start a video-blog. That might be interesting. Then again...it might just be another opportunity for me to ramble. Also, I'm not sure my mother would approve of my showing my face on youtube...I might get stalked.
Then again...there are a lot of things I do that my mother would disapprove of....if she knew...
And then, sometimes, there are times when I think even writing this blog is a waste of time. I keep around four different journals (one for poetry, two for thoughts, and one for projects). So what's this one for?
Existential questions...
on a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT note, I will be filming a lengthy - by which I mean 20-minute - film over the course of the coming week. It is very difficult and complicated, and as producer, I'm stressing out a lot. So prayers would be very much appreciated. Thanks.
12.26.2010
12.23.2010
End of Story
The best end to every story is love and the promise of new adventure, particularly after a point where it seemed like the end.
The end of every story should feel like this - a sense of infinite peace. Not that there will be no more troubles, but a knowledge that, when trouble comes, things will turn out for the best. The rest after a great struggle, where one seems all too inadequate. And peace, as you are assured that you are safe, that there is someone out there working for your good. The elation as the losing army sees reinforcements on the battlefield. The exhaustion after a race well-run. The joy of knowing you are loved, after years of uncertainty. Proof, after a lifetime of wandering between doubt and trust. The relief of a project finished and lying there, shining in all its glory, on the table. And the peace and hush of a child asleep.
The end of every story should feel like this - a sense of infinite peace. Not that there will be no more troubles, but a knowledge that, when trouble comes, things will turn out for the best. The rest after a great struggle, where one seems all too inadequate. And peace, as you are assured that you are safe, that there is someone out there working for your good. The elation as the losing army sees reinforcements on the battlefield. The exhaustion after a race well-run. The joy of knowing you are loved, after years of uncertainty. Proof, after a lifetime of wandering between doubt and trust. The relief of a project finished and lying there, shining in all its glory, on the table. And the peace and hush of a child asleep.
12.03.2010
Paradise: a story
In our world there is a story, almost never told word-for-word, but oft repeated in some thin disguise.
The story goes that once, there existed a Paradise...of sorts. It was a garden, created by a powerful being, who put all sorts of wonderful things in the world in it. - at any rate, the two people, a boy and a girl, whom he had put into it, and had lived in it all their lives, considered it so. But one day, another wise and great being gave the girl who lived in Paradise an apple, that would give her wisdom and knowledge equal to the one who had created her and her Paradise. The maker of the Paradise had told her not to eat it, but in a bold step of faith, she did.
After she ate it, she saw the garden with new eyes - not as Paradise, but as Prison, with high walls surrounding the garden, and guards at every gate. She realized her own potential, all that could be done to create a true, better Paradise, outside the limits of the maker. She saw past all the lies and confinements set up by the maker. And she set out to teach everyone to see with her eyes, and to know the truth of her so-called Paradise.
I live in this world, a descendant of her descendants, surrounded by the realizations of her potential. I live in the new Paradise, created by her and her children.
And there is hardly anything of Paradise about it. We have been trying to recreate Paradise for ourselves for thousands of years, and have failed.
But I know the secret: without the Maker, no Paradise can exist.
The story goes that once, there existed a Paradise...of sorts. It was a garden, created by a powerful being, who put all sorts of wonderful things in the world in it. - at any rate, the two people, a boy and a girl, whom he had put into it, and had lived in it all their lives, considered it so. But one day, another wise and great being gave the girl who lived in Paradise an apple, that would give her wisdom and knowledge equal to the one who had created her and her Paradise. The maker of the Paradise had told her not to eat it, but in a bold step of faith, she did.
After she ate it, she saw the garden with new eyes - not as Paradise, but as Prison, with high walls surrounding the garden, and guards at every gate. She realized her own potential, all that could be done to create a true, better Paradise, outside the limits of the maker. She saw past all the lies and confinements set up by the maker. And she set out to teach everyone to see with her eyes, and to know the truth of her so-called Paradise.
I live in this world, a descendant of her descendants, surrounded by the realizations of her potential. I live in the new Paradise, created by her and her children.
And there is hardly anything of Paradise about it. We have been trying to recreate Paradise for ourselves for thousands of years, and have failed.
But I know the secret: without the Maker, no Paradise can exist.
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