from BIlly Collins

All I wanted was to be a pea of being
inside the green pod of time,

man

I became a man today. I bought a bathroom rug that matches my shower curtain.

update on Mom

Hey everyone. Mom has finished all her chemo treatments successfully. They made her tired, lose her hair, and have the other typical aches (and pains . . .redundant?). She started radiation and will be doing that every week day through august. Thanks for all the prayers. It's hard to believe how smoothly it's gone.

print

Anyone have any idea of how to get a print of this picture? I've tried allposters.com. It's an awesome print up close.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/david_rytell/2539541893/

swimming

If someone has gone off in the deep end, would we consider them a shallow person?


(yes, joanna, I'm well aware that I used "them" for "him or her" :-P )

fame

I have reached the height of my fame today. I was in the Searcy Daily Citizen.

cleaning through poetry

I've been cleaning out my poetry folder and found this. . .and just couldn't resist!:

I hate the way we call the insides of fruit ‘flesh,’ as though we were cannablizing our own. With every crisp bite into an apple we rip off a chunk of meat from another person. With every slice into the skin of an orange, we flay our brother. With the dicing of pears into cute little wedges, we are filleting our parents and children. ‘Our breathren are already in the field.’ How can we stand idle while these atrocities occur? Join me in my cause, good fellows, and together, we will fight for the rights of fruit! To strive, to seek, to find, but not to yield!

Mark Strand

I'm still trying to figure out why Mark Strand is good. He's growing on me the more I read. This poem is pretty simple in some respects. But he captures these ideas so well:

Hour

The extra hour given back to eternity
The hour gained by travelling west
The hour of the imagined smpire
The deepest hour of the darkest sea
The guilty hour that precedes catastrophe
The hour that is takes to go from here to there
The haunted hour of the knowledge of death
The hour in which the moon darkens
The hour that moves through the mind like cloudshadow
The blue hour that rests on the rroof of the house

The hour that is the mother of minutes and grandmother of seconds
The swollen hour of pain, enough, enough
The hour when mice run in the walls
The bronze hour of electrical weather
The cloistered hour of the nun's great moment
The necklace of hours the widow wears
the numbing hour of a night in Nome
The sound of hours in the breathing of plants
The central hou that exists without you
The hour in which the universe begins to die

The hallucinatory hour that hangs forever
The hour of excess that equals two hours of self-examination
The hour that flashed on the skin
The hour of final music
The hour of painless solitude
The hour of moonlight upon her body

today

I listened to people today.
To the secretary who considers switching jobs.
To the co-worker who is much older than I am.
To the socially awkward bachelor from church.
To the giggley friends with their linseed oil stories.
To the mechanic whose accent was better than my best imitation.

It's nice to have the time to stop
and listen to people.

ahhhh

At long last

I'm done with undergrad!

hmm

I wonder if pain is relative to each person or whether it's a universal constant.

1 thought

"Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy." ~Jesus

I realized this while reading for Am. Lit tomorrow . . .

When we choose to be merciful to others, we not only open ourselves for God's blessing of mercy to fall upon us, but we create mercy within ourselves by our giving it away. Being merciful softens our hearts to be redeemed ourselves. It primes up for an O'Connor-like "moment of grace" where we can be forgiven by forgiving others.

In "Defenders of the Faith," Marx thinks, "mercy overrides justice" -- I am forced to agree. What a relief this brings, sweet as warm rain.

epicish

It was like the tree times,
As in days of Yore,
Before annotated bibs
Sullied the grassy floor.

Lady Abby with her jewle'd shoes,
Matron Joanna with her pen,
Queen Jessica with her purple coat,
and I with my fluffy chin.

The greats be-sat those woods:
Prince Luke of Comic Sans,
Mage Martina's telepathic glace,
And Kat with artist's hands.

Dame Jess was hunting, we did not doubt,
A monster, wild and grey,
But all wore shirts that cheered her on
As she hunted for her prey.

And the acorns fell, the sun it rose,
And cast a friendly glare,
For friends were glad to be outside,
In that long-lost epic air.

an observation

I happened to notice just now, while looking under my bed, a curious notation on a box of Great Value trash bags. Among the clutter of the words and exciting pictures of trash bags on the front was a curious little phrase: "Tear resistant formula." How funny, I thought, that people should cry so much during the taking out of trash, that these trash bags will resist any tears that people might shed. Well, I shall never switch brands again! No more trash crying for me!

Pull Over (not the sweatshirt kind)

Jess and I were driving to Memphis today . . .
oh, those blazoning blue lights,
lighting like pinpricks in my consciousness;
yes, the boys in blue -- well, one for now.

Quick, check the speed limit . . . right on . . . safe.
Is there a problem, sir?
Seems to me u were cuting that wite line: you on drugs boy?
No sir, I was trying to let you pass (tailgated by an unmarked popo)
Lemme c ur driver's licence and insurance.
Just a minute. . . it's in here. . .
that one's outdated. . .
oh, here it is, thanks honey
strut, strut, strut
. . .
looks like he's called for backup
. . .
boy, you supost to where shews win u drive
yessir, they're right here.
You got a restriction on your license
. . .?
Supost to be whereing somethang.
Yessir, I wear contacts.
Why u nervous boy?
I get nervous when I get pulled over. (we have a title!)
Get outta the car.

You doin drugggs?
Nosir.
Empty ur pokets.
Whose that with you?
My girlfriend.
Mind if we search the trunk?
Go ahead.
Wear u goin boy?
An art gallery in Memphis.
Aiight, u can go.


Where does right start,
Where does it end?
If I think I'm right,
and you think you're,
then can I condemn you
without first fairly condeming myself?

(Thanks to William Faulkner and William Carlos Williams for some poetic inspiration...)

an old epiphany, newed

People matter. Achievements don't.

Sealing and filing the spring break zip-lock bag

Hiking in East TN was an experience -- which is something I've been yearning for. Sometimes I read so much that my imagination aches for words to be reality, and although a book can take our minds to different places, there is something existentially profound about going there bodily.

Highlites of the week:
-- having out 5-person tent laden with sleeping bags caught up by a gale-force wind and blow across the campsite hitting a tree.
-- reciting The Raven while the wind and rain pillaged our tent.
-- reading Slaughter-House Five, The Road, and Richard II
-- enjoying the quiet of mountains

Grad school update:
I've now gotten acceptance/assistantship letters from OU and OSU. I have gotten rejection letters from FSU and UTenn. Purdue and Mizzou are left.

Mom's Chemo Update:
She has had chemo for the past couple weeks and is still doing fine. Apparently it can take a little while for the drugs to have their debilitating side effects. She hasn't lost her hair yet and is in good spirits.

"I have come to the highway home,
and lo, it is ended."
~Robert Frost

Simple Irony

MS Word's two spell-checker choices for "Confuscious" were "Confucius" and "confusions."

A parody of Wallace Stevens

Thirteen Ways of Cooking a Blackbird
a parody

I
Among twenty boiling frying pans,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.

II
This verse has three lines
Like a pot
In which there are three blackbirds.

III
The blackbird twirled on the open spit.
It was a small part of the feast.

IV
A man and a woman
Are one.
A blackbird and cranberry sauce
Are one.

V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of deep-frying
Or the beauty of casserole,
The blackbird who is whole
Or cut up in bits.

VI
An indecipherable cause
Makes me wonder,
Is the blackbird finest
In a barbaric stew
Or black
In blackbird pie?

VII
O thin King Midas,
Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the blackbird
Tastes so sweet
To the women about you?

VIII
The blackbird knows what I know
And knows his taste
Rises above other birds,
But I know he is a cannibal,
And he does not.

IX
When the blackbird’s filleted just right,
It marks the edge
Of many menus.

X
The blackbird tastes good,
Blue cheese on wheat bread,
Cheddar on rye bread,
Swiss on croissant.

XI
My dad went to Connecticut
In a glass cage.
Once, a fear strangled him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of a wren
For a blackbird.

XII
The steam is rising.
The blackbird must be dying.

XIII
It was evening all evening.
It was hailing,
And it was going to hail.
The blackbird bones
Littered our plates.

2/21/08

random

When I was a freshman, I talked like a freshman, I thought like a freshman, I reasoned like a freshman. When I became a senior, I put freshman ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection, as in a facebook photo album.

Thankful for...

- good friends who bring healing potions
- poetry, especially the way it sounds coming off your tongue
- cheddar cheese
- jess
- visual art
- leadership
- mom being okay
- warm water on the face
- the present

Give, give, give

A friend and I were talking today about giving of yourself. It seems like we are commanded (both didactically and by example) to give to others. This is the second greatest commandment, one that also fulfills the first (love God).

And yet, when we give, it can completely drain us. The ideal relationship has a balance of giving and receiving, but with fallen humans, that's not always the case. So what do we do? Do we keep giving, and if so, what do we do when we're empty? Can we reach a breaking point? Does the Bible say, "Give until you're tired, then stop"? Does practicality of saving ourselves from selfless destruction override a Biblical imperative?

One answer I've been teasing is a counter-intuitive one -- that we, like the Widow of Zerapath, give everything we have and then find that our jar of oil is not empty? Do we find it refilled by God? Can God sustain us himself, without using others to replenish our given hearts? Ideally, Christians support each other in balance, but when someone takes the slack, should s/he take it all, or should s/he let up on the reins?

(oh, Mom's surgery is tomorrow. . . a lumpectomy, I think)

:)

"I never made a mistake in grammar but one in my life and as soon as I done it I seen it."

- Carl Sandburg

Mom update

I just got off the phone with mom and dad. They are in good spirits, though it sounded like mom has a cold -- she's probably worn out from all the tests.

She will have surgery Feb 6. Mom hasn't decided whether to have the lumpectomy or massectomy, seeing as they both have their own advantages or disadvantages. Depending on that, she'll have radiation, possibly, and she will have about 6 months of chemotherapy.

I'm just glad she's going to be all right.

Mom Update

Mom had tests monday, and we found out today that the cancer has NOT spread. Praise God! Thanks for all your prayers. Mom and Dad are going in Thursday to see when the surgery will take place.

Shakespeare

Thanks for your support, everyone. I have some good friends. We will find out Thursday about how Mom's test turned out and when the surgery will be.

On a lighter note, here are some quotes that I liked from As You Like It:

"The more pity that fools may not speak wisely what wise men do foolishly." ~Touchstone

"Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty." ~Adam

"I can suck melancholy out of a song as a weasel sucks eggs." ~Jaques (thanks to Luke for bringing this one out at Souvenirs)

"All the world's a stage, \ And all the men and women merely players; \ They have their exits and their entrances, \ And one man in his time plays many parts." ~Jaques

"Do you not know I am a woman? When I think, I must speak." ~Rosalind

"I'll go find a shadow, and sigh till he come." ~Rosalind

"I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do not,
As those that fear they hope, and know they fear." ~Orlando

Bad News

My family found out some bad news at the beginning of the week, but mom and dad didn't want daniel and me to say anything until they knew more. I'm posting this news instead of telling people mainly b/c it's easier, and those who read this blog are the only ones I'd really want to know just b/c when lots of people know about these things, it can get wearing talking about it to acquaintances who mean well but would do better to leave things be. Anyway, we found out Monday that mom has breast cancer. She went in for an MRI today and will go in for a biopsy monday, and then they'll find out the results of tests later next week and I guess do surgery after that. If they find out that it's spread, then I guess they'll have to do more stuff from there.

Well, I guess I'm not sure how to deal with all of this, but I'd rather y'all not tell anyone really just to keep it more minimally discussed. Anyway, hopefully the tests will go well and then the surgury will go well. I've never had to deal with anything like this before. I know God's been faithful to me enough that I can trust him no matter what happens. The busyness of this week hasn't given me much chance to think, but I hope y'all can pray for mom and dad. Mom's really positive, but I know they're both getting pretty worn down. Anyway, I'll keep y'all updated one way or another.

Sickness

Everyone is getting sick.

(Imperative) Stop.

Books

I read some this vacation. Here are the books and some brief thoughts:

1. Anna Karinina by Leo Tolstoy -- actually, i finished up the audiobook of this masterpiece. I loved it. Like Pride and Prejudice with better psychological insights for Russians.

2. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglass Adams -- absurd but fun, a classic that I missed along the way

3. Tristram Shandy by Lawrence Sterne -- a ridiculous narrator, a series of digressions, hysterical in parts, impossible in others

4. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee-- another classic HAM (go lions!) didn't have us read; wonderful

5. Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card-- a children's/teen's book but as engrossing as Harry Potter with perhaps slightly better themes and characters and plots. I'm reading the series.

6. Social Intelligence by Daniel Goleman -- recommended by Dr. Garner, awesome insights into how people understand relationships

7. The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath (not finished yet) -- good so far; best metaphors i've seen since reading Margaret Atwood

8. The Beauty of God: Theology and the Arts (not finished) -- slightly disappointing so far, but it's getting better. The topic is good enough to keep this one afloat.

yay for books

Neologism

I learned a new word recently:

affective:

1.	of, caused by, or expressing emotion or feeling; emotional.

2.	causing emotion or feeling.

(dictionary.com)

Also, Grendel's Lair has a new poll.