Life of Significant Soil

Inferno I, 32 by Jorge Louis Borges

2011-02-04T16:51:00.000-08:00

"From the twilight of day till the twilight of evening, a leopard, in the last years of the thirteenth century, would see some wooden planks, some vertical iron bars, men and women who changed, a wall and perhaps a stone gutter filled with dry leaves. He did not know, could not know, that he longed for love and cruelty and the hot pleasure of tearing things to pieces and the wind carrying the scent of a deer, but something suffocated and rebelled within him and God spoke to him in a dream: “You live and will die in this prison so that a man I know of may see you a certain number of times and not forget you and place your figure and symbol in a poem which has its precise place in the scheme of the universe. You suffer captivity, but you will have given a word to the poem.” God, in the dream, illumined the animal’s brutishness and the animal understood these reasons and accepted his destiny, but, when he awoke, there was in him only an obscure resignation, a valorous ignorance, for the machinery of the world is much too complex for the simplicity of a beast.

Years later, Dante was dying in Ravenna, as unjustified and as lonely as any other man. In a dream, God declared to him the secret purpose of his life and work; Dante, in wonderment, knew at last who and what he was and blessed the bitterness of his life. Tradition relates that, upon waking, he felt that he had received and lost an infinite thing, something that he would not be able to recuperate or even glimpse, for the machinery of the world is much too complex for the simplicity of men."

A Serious Man (2009)

2010-04-08T01:03:00.000-07:00

Larry Gopnik is a very serious man indeed. Or at least, he tries awfully hard to be. But Larry doesn't seem to be in on the great cosmic joke, despite the fact that its at his expense.

The Cohen brother's latest film, A Serious Man, is a very personal film. Certainly for the brothers, who grew up in a Jewish community in Minneapolis during the 60's, but I meant for all of us. It asks the questions that, in our most desperate hours, we all lie awake at night whispering to ourselves, "Why me? What have I done to deserve this?" And for the character of Larry Gopnik, a Jewish physics professor at a Minneapolis college, the answers to these questions appear to be...nothing. Larry's wife announces suddenly that she wants a divorce, his tenure is being threatened by anonymous vilifying letters, a disgruntled student seems to be attempting to blackmail him, And yet there are no answers, even from his rabbis, that can satisfactorily explain why.

Larry tries so hard to live righteously and his sense of moral compass is strong throughout the film. He understands his duty to his family, his institution, and his religion, but it begins to give way under all the trials he endures: his dreams become erotic and violent, and finally he is forced to face the greatest temptation: to try and erase one problem with another.

The film itself is full of uncertainty. We are unsure as an audience when to laugh or when to cringe. The film begins with a prologue which establishes this are the film's central question: what can man be certain of? and how does the reality that can be seen and experienced, what man often claims as "truth", give way to his superstitions and metaphysical beliefs?

I have heard it said that the Cohen bothers are the quintessential postmodern filmmakers. But I wonder if this film is about the clash of post-modern thought and the Jewish tradition, or more simply about the idea of logic versus faith. As a professor of physics, Larry understands all the math; math can be contained in its own world, the world of theory and the page. However, once the math is released from these confines, when the math leaps off the giant chalkboard, when Schodinger's cat breathes air, and the apparent 'randomness' and 'paradoxes' that plague his mathematical theorems come to life, Larry is left drowning in a sea of questions he does not have the answers to. Like why God would allow us to question without ever giving us the answers.
It has been remarked that A Serious Man is simply a retelling of the Biblical story of Job. While the story may be the same, the message is not. Larry, like Job, has everything taken from him with no apparent reason why. As a Christian, I always struggled with the book of Job. Would would God allow bad things happen to good people, the serious men of this world?

I remember hearing a professor speak on the book of Job. I will never forget what he said. He warned that perhaps when we, like Job, are too focused on pondering the problem of evil that we do not fathom the problem of grace. For Christians, this grace and salvation are not things we earn, but things we are given, as a free gifts from the God who loves us more deeply than we could possibly comprehend. We do not deserve it in any possible way and the good acts we do are not a means of obtaining salvation, but a means of demonstrating our joint reception of the promises of God in Christ. However, because all men have fallen short of God's glory, judgement can fall upon us just as swiftly. Larry does not choose to look upon God as an almighty savior, but simply as an aggressor. Perhaps this is where Larry's and Job's stories diverge. Larry's story ends where it began, in uncertainty. But Job, through his recognition of the sovereignty of God is restored beyond his previous blessings.

But I think, despite his rather laughable way of stating it, that the Junior Rabbi was the closest to being right; that perhaps we just need to change our perspective. That God may not provide us with the direct answers to the conundrums of our individual situations, but that God has provided us with the evidence of His divine nature and power. Its not enough just to sit and contemplate the problem of evil, when we should in fact be contemplating the problem of grace. That although disaster may come like a great unstoppable tornado, we have to trust that the God who gives us this grace will get us through the storm.

To Show You What You Mean To......

2010-03-21T09:47:00.000-07:00

Merry Christmas!

2009-12-25T14:47:00.001-08:00

This makes me laugh every time....
(Courtesy of www.harkavagrant.com/)

The Third Man (1949)

2009-06-11T15:15:00.000-07:00

With the summer finally here (and with more time now available to me) I have decided that I will try my hand at writing some film reviews. I love watching films, making films and intelligently discussing them, so I figured that I should refine my ability to cohesively write about them as well. Here goes.

What is the value of human life? In post-World War II Vienna, the answer seems to be "cheap." However, Carol Reed's film "The Third Man" does not discuss this idea within the context of the brutality of warfare itself, but in terms of a man's sense of morality. Man himself becomes cheap if he is willing to see the lives of fellow human beings as simply a figure on a page or a dollar in his pocket. We love the film's naive hero Holly Martins (incomparably played by Joseph Cotton) because he realizes that morality is much more complex than what is in the westerns novellas he writes; he begins by caring only about the death of his friend Harry Lime, but realizes that he needs to care about so much more. A friend tells Martins, "The world doesn't make any heroes outside of your stories." Maybe he's right. Maybe the world doesn't make heroes. But that doesn't mean Martins shouldn't decide to become one.

Essentially, the film is about Martins, who has come from America to post-war Vienna to find a childhood friend (Lime) who has offered him a job. He arrives to find Lime has been killed in an automobile accident. The British police tell him to forget the whole matter and return to America, warning him that the situation is much more dangerous that Martins is willing to believe. However, something doesn't add up, and eventually Martins concludes that Lime has been murdered. He follows the trail, but it leads him somewhere that everyone warned him not to go. Eventually, Martins must choose a side and come face to face with who his friend truly was: to choose the fierce loyalty of Lime's girlfriend, or to side with the truth. As I watched the film again, a friend suggested that the famous Ferris wheel scene depicts the moral rise and fall of Lime; we look down on the crowd as he does, seeing things from his perspective ("Nobody thinks in terms of human beings. Governments don't. Why should we?"), but ultimately, we end where we began. Nothing has changed.

As an artist, whenever I see a photographer who uses an excessive number of Dutch angles in their work, it comes off as desperate and amateurish. However, watching this film reminded me that before the gratuitous use of the Dutch angle in Myspace profile pictures, it was a powerful tool used masterfully by filmmakers like Reed. Almost every shot in "The Third Man" is at an angle, albeit sometimes very slight. The effect is sometimes dizzying, but always disorienting, which despite intuition, does not hamper the film with unnecessary confusion, but builds the audience's sense of unease. In the same way, the lighting in this film is haunting and possesses an otherworldly strangeness. One is often frightened of the night because of the engulfing darkness, but Reed almost makes you more frightened of the light: buildings luminescent like glowing skeletons, shadows that loom larger than life, and just enough dark to conceal oneself in shambles of the crumbling city.

Perhaps even more poignant, is the music in this film. I must admit that I had never listened to zither music before, but I think now I will never be able to look at it the same way. The score (performed by Anton Karas) haunts you long after the film has ended (the first time I watched it, I was humming the theme for the next few days). The music, as Roger Ebert states, "is jaunty but without joy, like whistling in the dark. It sets the tone; the action begins like an undergraduate lark and then reveals vicious undertones." Could not have said it any better. The elements of this film, the acting, the cinematography, and the music, all unite in a perfection that is undeniable. Personally, I can find no fault.

Time Machine

2009-04-03T21:45:00.000-07:00

He paused for just a moment. Until this point his rough hands had been furiously laboring to finish this delicate mechanical operation. The sweat dripped from his brow and stung his eyes. As he wiped his reddened cheek on his shirtsleeves, he suddenly realized how warm it had become in the room despite the November chill. He threw off his waistcoat and violently flung open the window. A gust of cool wind shot through the room. He closed his weary lids and allowed the wind to cool his distempered mind. For an instant he longed to forget it all, to abandon his project. Somewhere in the back of his mind he still longed for the position and acclaim he had once enjoyed before accident had occurred. But he knew that could never be. He remembered why he worked so diligently. He felt a surge of longing and courage course through his soul and he turned to resume his project only to realize that the candles had gone out. He hastily shut the window and relit only the candles most necessary to continue his task for he knew that he must work in earnest now. A few hours passed as he strove for completion. At last he picked up the wrench and finished tightening the final cogs. It was ready… he hoped. He tenuously turned each crank to the appropriate settings. Once the machine was set, all he could do was wait for the appropriate window of opportunity. The last few years had been an agony; waiting before they could be reunited, but this torment had only served to heighten his sense of diligence and not to weaken his resolve. Now that this night’s work was done, he picked up his fountain pen and a clean sheet of paper. He knew he must write a letter, just in case he did not survive the journey. He scribbled some nonsense about the division of the heart and the distance of time, but he knew it was no use: he could not explain what he felt through the pen and ink. He crumpled this sheet and began another, but he disliked this one as much as the last. Finally, he settled on one draft that was adequate in his mind, and proceeded to add his seal and then safely stow ed it in the inside pocket of his coat, which lay neatly across the back of his chair. He gently lifted his pocket-watch off the desk. There were only a few minutes left now. His agitation became more and more intensified until he could do nothing else but pace about the study. His overly heightened senses perceived a muffled noise. Without a second thought, he donned his waistcoat, coat and hat, and felt inside the breast pocket to ensure the letter was still there. He froze and waited silently. It was only a horse and carriage passing by outside. In disappointment he began to take off his hat, when suddenly, it began. A flash of white light lit every corner of the room and a low rattling noise shook the floor. Despite the piercing light, he was able to see the faint outline of an entrance and he knew he would just be able to power his machine and step across the threshold. He reached across the desk and threw of the final switch. An even deeper rumbling began that shook his very being. All his previous fears came flooding back to his mind: would his machine work like it did the last time? would he survive the dross-dimensional journey? And, most importantly, could love survive the test of time? He was unsure, but there was one thing he was certain of: she was waiting, and he could not disappoint. He glanced towards Heaven, stepped into the light, and was gone.

:::::::: This is my most recent 3-D design art project. I'll post a few more of my projects from this class soon. Feel free to comment or critique.

Another Squire's Tale

2009-03-11T00:20:00.000-07:00

For our pull question on the Canterbury Tales, our class had the option of writing a tale of our own concerning the questions of marriage proposed by Chaucer. In class we discussed whether marriage kills the idealization of the beloved, so behold my sad attempt at answering this idea through my even sadder poetry skills. Enjoy!

In days of yore, while Arthur led the Knights of the Table Round,
When lady loves received vows of love profound,
There lived a timid squire, of scrawny stature and ruddy cheek
Whose voice was scarcely audible, his manner very meek.
This bashful youth would oft appear in the good King’s court
And with the noble gentry to consort.
Yet women-folk he did admire from afar,
Too gentle was the squire to approach them who are
In his opinion, of gracious spirit and superior wit
Who he could match but for a whit.
The women would gather and speak in a hush
While our goodly squire would stammer and blush.
However, till that time he’d never met one
To whom the strings of his heart were undone.
He’d stutter and start, he’d sputter and smirk
And yet, each one of these women would irk
His sensitive conscience and opinion, it’s true!
Preventing him to either marry or woo.
On Michaelmas day, this squire of tender years,
His trepidation to soon disappear,
Arrived at the court in proper pomp and stance
To view the courtly ladies all askance.
He was about to leave the murmuring throng
When he noticed, she to the heavens belong,
A woman of great stature and grace,
That his heart did but burst and flow to his face.
Her manner, her words, ay! Heaven above!
He knew in that instant that she was his love.
Were she carved out of marble, her perfection’s not matched,
All other collations the squire dist dispatch.
She was resplendent, a goddess, a lover,
And just as the stars in the heavens above her,
In her, the light of her Maker dist shine,
Mortal and divine beauty forever did twine.
Our squire, overcome with devotion to the lady,
Knew his heart to be bound to hers already.
The only obstacle that lay between him and his prize
Was to capture her fancy. So a plan to devise
The squire’s goal came to be, to gain
A love she might otherwise feign.
Each day he wrote sonnets and tied them with string
And each new day he would secretly bring
A new song through which of his love he would speak
And mention his courage and manly physique.
The lady would read this poetry and constantly sigh
And to pine for her brave hero she madly would cry,
“Where art thou, O lover divine?
You’ve given your heart, I might give you mine!
How brave and how manly and robust you sound,
With the wreathes of the gods you must surely be crowned.”
This lady’s maid knew of the verses
And rebuked her mistress with long, drawn out curses:
“You know not who this man be, or how he dost look
Wait not to reject him till your heart he does rook.
How foolish you are not know your love now
And wait till you’ve sealed your fate in marriage vow.”
The lady would have non of her maid’s prattle
And went off instead to write her own verses that’ll
Return her deep passion and continue this farce,
And proclaim her own virtues, which by troth were not sparse.
And so in her verse she hath promised to conjoin
With him in matrimony, their hearts to adjoin.
So squire and lady arranged through letters a day
They might be wed, much to her maid’s dismay.
The maid would rant and rave about the dangers of this plan
But the lady could see no fault with her man.
When the day of the wedding did finally arrive,
The squire knew nothing could now deprive
Him of his wife, his perfect idol, his star!
Even if he had only viewed her from afar.
So he put on his armor at leopard’s fast pace
With his sword at his side, and helmet over face.
His heart was a flutter for his lady all in white,
That he felt himself to be no longer a squire, but a knight.
She approached him with her face all aglow
And because of her love asked him timidly to show
The face and the form he had written so much about
The image to which she had been so devout.
But the wedding began before he could say naught
So that she might know who he is as she ought.
The nuptials now done, it was time to reveal
And soon to break each others’ ideal.
She pulled back her veil and with helmet off head,
They moved into kiss, but, alas, what instead?
A scrawny young squire of equal her years,
Yet all infatuation dist then disappear.
At the sight of his lady so angry and distressed
He knew that she was not the type of lady he meant to impress
For she seemed more concerned with outward appearance
Than with his poetry, love and strict perseverance.
They protested and cried, ranted and screamed
But the marriage was valid, or so the Church deemed.
The maid wildly cackled and said, “So I thought!
My lady and gent, what lessons you’ve been taught!”
His image of her, and her image of him
Were broken, and their outlook seemed grim
But the couple, resigned to their simple fate,
Decided to see if love they could create.
Each new day they would meet and discuss,
And so very often their meetings went thus:
A small salutation, a nod or a bow,
Then their own thoughts and ideas avow.
Some days she’d be shrewish, some days he a bore,
But after some months, they began to adore,
Overcoming the small faults seen in each other
That they finally knew they couldn’t seek another
To love or to cherish, to have and to hold,
The true image of beloved they now could behold.
For the first time they saw woman and man as meant to be seen,
The good times and bad, and all in between.
The false image destroyed had been restored by truth,
Patience, obedience and the passion of youth.
Yet think not this love will die with the years
As the couple that marries dost often fears.
By Heaven no! Their love hath lived on,
For by their own understanding was drawn
A marriage that would rise like the glorious sun,
And now I must think my tale is now done.
Be wary of lies, of false lovers, be sure!
In order that your love might endure.

Jerry and Perry?

2009-02-20T17:14:00.000-08:00

After watching the Gammy Awards a few weeks ago, this comparison suddenly popped into my head this afternoon:

It's kinda absurd. And kinda disturbing. And no, I'm not talking about Jerry....

Katy Perry is a reincarnation of this scene from Scared Stiff, straight down to the bad vocals and the rather frightening, and yet highly laughable channeling of Carmen.

They both kinda make me want to go buy a fruit salad for desert.

Terrible Good?

2009-02-11T22:58:00.000-08:00

Why are we scared of happy endings as film goers (or even readers of "modern" literature)? Why are we scared of sad endings too? I guess a more legitimate question is why are we afraid of an ending that is appropriate? I mean, obviously, sometimes in the course of a story it is evident whether it will end happily, or not, but I find that quite often, endings are tacked on to coerce the audience into feeling a certain way. Sometimes the "hero" doesn't deserve to win because in reality, he's a good for nothing jerk. But he wins anyways because it makes us feel good. And sometimes, the hero is one who deserves to win, but loses anyways (an sometimes, this is done simply to evoke our unmerited tears). I think Victor Hugo's The Hunchback of Notre Dame and its subsequent film adaptations are a viable example of what I'm trying to say. The book is a tragic examination of bourgeois life in 15th century France, and in particular, the tragedy of true love, ending in the deaths of many of the story's protagonists. Then why is it that most film adaptations have the heroic Quasimodo victorious at the end? Why are we afraid to reveal what the story is really about? Any other ending seems unnatural. It seems simulated to invoke warm fuzzy feelings that should not exist within the context of that particular story.

I guess when it gets down to it, I'm sick of inappropriate endings. Every story has an ending that is naturally resolved through the telling of the story itself. I'm not much of a writer (obviously. hence this convoluted post), but I've written enough to grasp the idea that a story sorta takes a life of its own, and to alter its course in order to suit your own needs just seems wrong. When you change a story like Hunchback of Notre Dame to create a joyous triumph, is it really Hunchback of Notre Dame anymore? Or have you created something entirely new? Neither? Both? ug. Why is it we crave happy endings and then are left unsatisfied by them in the end? Why is is that we reject happy endings in order for a film to fuel our own self-indulgent needs? Why are we scared of a good ending? Not a happy one, not a sad one necessarily, but a good one. Even if that good might just be terrible.

Random Awesome

2009-01-31T14:18:00.000-08:00

I am so drawing awesome mustaches on my all of my pencils!!!

(next time I get plain wood ones that is)

Ideals of Beauty

2009-01-30T09:46:00.000-08:00

"All of us Karamazovs are like that, and in you [Alyosha], an angel, the same insect [sensuality] lives and stirs up storms in your blood. Storms, because sensuality is a storm, more than a storm! Beauty is a fearful and terrible thing! Fearful because it's undefinable, and it cannot be defined, because here God gave us only riddles. Here the shores converge, here all contradictions live together. I'm a very uneducated man, brother, but I've thought about it a lot. So terribly many mysteries! Too many riddles oppress man on earth. Solve them if you can without getting your feet wet. Beauty! Besides, I can't bear it that some man, even with a lofty heart and the highest mind, should start from the ideal of the Madonna and end with the ideal of Sodom. It's even more fearful when someone who already has the ideal of Sodom in his soul does not deny the ideal of the Madonna either, and his heart burns with it, verily, verily burns, as in his young, blameless years. No, man is broad, even too broad, I would narrow him down. Devil knows what to make of him, that's the thing! What's shame for the mind is beauty al over for the heart. Can there be beauty in Sodom? Believe me, for the vast majority of people, that;s just where beauty lies--did you know that secret? The terrible thing is that beauty is not only fearful but also mysterious. Here the devil is struggling with God, and the battlefield is the human heart."

-The Brothers Karamazov (Book III. Chpt. 3)

I have a feeling that this will be one of many quotes that I shall be posting from this novel. Truly amazing.

Ten

2009-01-23T19:22:00.000-08:00

I saw my friends on Facebook trying this so I thought I would give it a go:

Ten Random Things About Me

[1] If I had to chose one "style" of clothing to wear for the rest of my life, it would be steampunk. totally.
[2] I would like to adopt a greyhound someday.
[3] I think Henry Tilney is one of the best literary characters. I named my car after him. :D
[4] I'm trying to learn Japanese. It may take longer than I thought.
[5] I love acting. If I thought I could make money doing it, I would totally become a professional actress.
[6] I used to be one of the shortest people in my class. Then I hit Junior High....
[7] Art and film are two of my passions.
[8] I'm allergic to cats, which is problematic because I actually really like cats.
[9] I am a Trekie. Star Trek: The Original Series is freaking awesome.
[10] I like to sing and dance while doing the dishes.

Nine Places I've Visited

Washington D.C
Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada
San Francisco
Virginia
Atlanta, Georgia
Minneapolis
Monterey, California
Bakersfield, California!!!!!
ummm..... Los Angeles, California..... can you tell I haven't traveled much?

Eight Things I Want to Do Before I Die

#1 Find an occupation that I love
#2 Find an awesome and Godly man to share my life with
#3 Live in England because of the rain.... and the awesome accents...
#4 Perform a lead role in a Shakespeare play
#5 Travel somewhere by train
#6 Shout from the top of a really tall building
#7 Hand-feed a wild animal
#8 Participate in a flash-mob event

Seven Ways To Win My Heart

one. Love the Lord with all your heart
two. Laugh (a lot).
three. Be willing to be super silly
four. Love art, film, literature and discussing all of these subjects
five. Be honest
six. Love my friends and family
seven. Play an instrument or sing

SIX.things.I.believe.in.

{1} Christ
{2} Goodness
{3} Truth
{4} Beauty
{5} Art
{6} Humanity

Five Things I'm Afraid Of

1. Failing at Life
2. Darkness
3. Asking people for favors
4. Country Music!!! AUGHH!!
5. Rather large insects

F.O.U.R. Of My Favorite Bands/Singers

1! Sufjan Stevens
2! Cat Stevens
3! Andrew Bird
4! Jethro Tull

Three Things I Do Everyday

<1> Breathe
<2> Eat
<3> Read

Two Of The Best Feelings

un. Knowing that God has not abandoned you even in your darkest hour
deux. That you have accomplished something challenging or something meaningful

One Quote to Live By

1. "To serve any discipline of art is to affirm meaning, despite all the ambiguities and tragedies and misunderstandings which surround us." - Madeline L'Engle

Rest in Peace

2009-01-14T19:04:00.000-08:00

Patrick McGoohan

(March 19, 1928 – January 13, 2009)

May his legacy live on. Be seeing you.

A Few Reflections on Love

2008-12-29T23:40:00.000-08:00

"If i loved you...then i would love you in any way that i could and if we could not touch then i would draw strength from your beauty and if i went blind then i would fill my soul with the sound of your voice and the contents of your thoughts until the last spark of my love for you lit the shabby darkness of my dying mind..."

-Alfredo from "Pushing Daisies"

"Now, fie upon my false French! By mine honour, in
true English, I love thee, Kate: by which honour I
dare not swear thou lovest me; yet my blood begins to
flatter me that thou dost, notwithstanding the poor
and untempering effect of my visage. Now, beshrew
my father's ambition! he was thinking of civil wars
when he got me: therefore was I created with a
stubborn outside, with an aspect of iron, that, when
I come to woo ladies, I fright them. But, in faith,
Kate, the elder I wax, the better I shall appear:
my comfort is, that old age, that ill layer up of
beauty, can do no more, spoil upon my face: thou
hast me, if thou hast me, at the worst; and thou
shalt wear me, if thou wear me, better and better:
and therefore tell me, most fair Katharine, will you
have me? Put off your maiden blushes; avouch the
thoughts of your heart with the looks of an empress;
take me by the hand, and say 'Harry of England I am
thine:' which word thou shalt no sooner bless mine
ear withal, but I will tell thee aloud 'England is
thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Harry
Plantagenet is thine;' who though I speak it before
his face, if he be not fellow with the best king,
thou shalt find the best king of good fellows.
Come, your answer in broken music; for thy voice is
music and thy English broken; therefore, queen of
all, Katharine, break thy mind to me in broken
English; wilt thou have me?"

-Henry from "Henry the V"

"I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of death -- and I, suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country, and thee.
I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I loved and I could not find one. A pure love of my country and of the principles have often advocated before the people and "the name of honor that I love more than I fear death" have called upon me, and I have obeyed.
Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield.
The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me - perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar -- that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.
Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have oftentimes been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.
But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night -- amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours - always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by."
Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.

-Sullivan Ballou (Ballou was killed a week later at the first Battle of Bull Run, July 21, 1861)

It only takes a moment....

2008-12-26T17:13:00.001-08:00

Seriously, my family watched this movie today. I think it has become one of my all time favorite Pixar films. Each one of their subsequent endeavors results in something deeply moving and fantastically visually stunning. Despite being, essentially, a box with binocular eyes, Walle- expresses a wealth of emotions through the simple (and often subtle) movements of his eyes and the hums and beeps of his voice. How can you get any better than an adorable robot who has a passion for "Hello Dolly?" I ask you. The answer? Not much better. Additionally, through the animator's careful craftsmanship, you are able to connect with this little robot on so many other levels: his undying curiosity, his concern and devotion to others, his frustration, and finally his quest for true love.

I think critics of this film who complain that this film tries too hard to push an agenda are missing something magical. It's not just a film about the revitalization of Earth by being environmentally friendly (which is definitely important for our generation to hear), but about the wonderfully sweet romance between Wall-e and Eve. In the film, when it comes down to it, Eve is willing to sacrifice her directive to save Wall-e. And although he reminds her of her duty, I think this is an important point. We can't simply think about saving humanity without thinking about the individuals who need our help. Maybe I'm missing something or reading too much into it, but I think that is one of the most important messages that this moving film communicates. Plus, those who think that its "Go Green!" message ruins their perception of the rest of the film, I would ask you first to reconsider why you are so perturbed by this message. It's important for us to be good stewards of our world and to do our part to make the world clean and habitable. The Captain in the film points out that its not about just surviving, its about living and that though there may be some costs, we should still strive to make our world, or more simply our lives better. I'm glad to see a children's movie saying something so meaningful. Secondly, I would implore you to watch the film again and enjoy the interactions between its two main protagonists.... so sweet. Please. It only takes a moment....

Emmanuel Has Come!

2008-12-25T20:24:00.001-08:00

Veni, veni Emmanuel!
Captivum solve Israel!
Qui gemit in exilio,
Privatus Dei Filio,
Gaude, gaude, Emmanuel
Nascetur pro te, Israel.
Veni, veni o oriens!
Solare nos adveniens,
Noctis depelle nebulas,
Dirasque noctis tenebras.
Gaude, gaude Emmanuel
Nascetur pro te, Israel.

Veni, veni Adonai!
Qui populo in Sinai
Legem dedisti vertice,
In Maiestate gloriae.
Gaude, gaude Emmanuel
Nascetur pro te Israel.

Merry Christmas to you all. Praise Christ on this glorious day.

Where there's a whip, there's a way!

2008-12-19T14:29:00.000-08:00

Okay. I know. I post a lot of youtube videos here. But there are so many horrifically wonderful things that I just cannot help sharing with you all. I promise to post something meaningful soon. But in the mean time.....
If my last post didn't scare the wits out of you, BEHOLD!!!! From the 1980 Rankin-Bass animated Return of the King, the orcs singing "Where there's a whip, there's a way":

Catchy, isn't it?! AUGHHHH!!!! It's been haunting Marisa and I for the last two days!!!! I think I'm slowly going insane... hahaHAHAHAffughejrngjefbvekbsibfhefihgejbfbbjjfvjdbkjbkjkkkkkkkkkkkkk............... woah. Alright, I'm back. ehehm. Seriously, go watch this whole movie. It follows the books pretty closely, but the music and the animation style are just plain frightening. So. Frightening. You'll understand once you watch it, but I nearly died when I read one comment about Denethor that said "And so we discover that Snowwhite's witch didn't really disappear.. she became Denethor." So as a bonus!!!!

Now you must watch the whole thing. You try to look away, but it calls your name... heehee.....

It wasn't the drugs....

2008-12-12T20:30:00.001-08:00

It was this. Oh, The Sixties.... this is what made you so trippy....

I am feeling sickly and this absolutely just made my night. Words cannot express how absolutely amazing this is. If you do nothing else with your evening, watch this. It is life changing!!! Ok, maybe not, but it comes pretty close.

Elementary, Dear Watson!

2008-11-26T19:55:00.001-08:00

So, I'm not really sure how I came upon this, but earlier today I found out that director Guy Ritchie is in the process of shooting a new film adaptation of the beloved Sherlock Holmes mysteries set to release in 2009. Now, while I have absolutely no objections to Robert Downey Jr. (I deeply respect his talent and skill), or to Jude Law, but as the brilliant detective and his astute doctoral companion, I just REALLY do not think that they are adequate:

In fact, it kinda makes me very indignant. I think this is mostly because I am a purist. Yes, a purist to the written works themselves, but also to the flawless portrayal of Holmes' character by the incomparable Jeremy Brett.

Jeremy Brett (seen above with the amazing David Burke as Doctor Watson [later replaced by the equally as astounding Edward Hardwick]) is the definitive Sherlock Holmes. It seems almost superfluous to try and recreate the character of Holmes when it has been already imagined and realized so perfectly. I just feel that Downey and Law will be unable to meet the precedent Brett and Hardwick set long before....
However, as the great detective said himself, "The temptation to form premature theories upon insufficient data is the bane of our profession.” So perhaps I shall just have resign myself to believing that maybe it won't be as horrific as I think it is going to be.....

Pushing of the Daisies

2008-11-23T19:41:00.000-08:00

Last year, thanks to the promptings of a good friend, I discovered the magic of the television show Pushing Daisies. It is a truly magical series, filling your heart with beauty, warmth, love, and a delicious cherry filling. The show centers around one sad and lonely young man, Ned (played by the ridiculously adorable Lee Pace, who is also in my current favorite movie The Fall), who discovers at a young age that he has the power to bring dead things back to life. However, he also discovers that once he brings that dead thing back to life, he can only let it live for one minute or some other living thing in the near vicinity must die in its place. Also, if he ever touches the resurrected thing again, it would die forever, never to be brought back. He teams up with private investigator Emerson Cod who has discovered Ned's secret, and they solve murders by resurrecting the victims for one minute in order to get clues or identifications. The real plot twist comes in when Ned's childhood sweetheart, Chuck (or Charlotte Charles) has been murdered and he chooses to resurrect her for more than a minute, essentially giving her a second chance at life. The only thing is... they can't touch, otherwise he will have killed love of his life! Augh!

But cute-ness ensues. :)

Besides the witty writing, and the endearing characters, the visual aspects of this show are astounding. Every episode is filled with "Tim Burton-esque" aesthetics that give the audience a sense of wonder and playfulness. I highly recommend borrowing or buying the first season (though it was cut prematurely short by the writer's strike) and watching the second season on Wednesdays at 8pm on ABC. While its still on in any case. I just saw on the news that ABC has cut this show from their lineup next year. After the current season, Pushing Daisies will be gone. Finito. Good-bye-o. Adios. Sayonara. I am severely distressed. This show is a breath of fresh air amongst the otherwise toxic waste dump known as TV programming. GRRRR!!!!! I am... just.... so sad...

More Star Trek

2008-11-21T10:02:00.002-08:00

Because I'm just THAT nerdy. Yep. When I go see this in theaters next May, I am going to wear my awesome homemade shirt with the command insignia that I stitched onto it. Yes I will. I mean come on. I'm totally prepared for all the weird and disdainful looks. It couldn't be much worse than dressing in a Star Wars shirt, Dwight Schrute glasses, braiding a small strand of hair by my neck and going to see Clone Wars right? Right? And while Clone Wars is a pretty epic film in itself, (can you say Jabba the Hutt's gay uncle Ziro the Hutt, who sounds like Truman Capote?? HECK YES! mmhh...ehem....) I think I can safely say this looks much more epic:

I'm really excited and yet... kinda hesitant. I hope it's good...

Sometimes...

2008-11-17T15:40:00.000-08:00

don't you feel like this? That's what I thought...
:)

Just to name a few...

2008-11-16T21:41:00.000-08:00

Okay. I know. I haven't posted in a REALLY long time.

Well, anyways.... My time has been consumed by school. College is super exciting and also scary. There are so many awesome new people to meet and so many awesome things to learn, think about and discuss. However, for me, I'm still at a place of uncertainty, and I guess that's what makes the whole experience just a little scary. I'm caught between two different paths and very unsure of which way to go. I feel frustrated with myself because I am unable to choose which direction I want to go, and I feel frustrated because I feel sometimes I have to live up to my own expectations and the expectations of others. But I don't want to feel this way anymore. I want to go and just try some new things. I want to honor God through the talents and gifts he has bestowed upon me. I want to continue to grow and mature as a person, to learn to love better, and to be willing to sacrifice my pre-conceived notions in favor of recognizing God's truth. And hopefully, to have some fun along the way.

On a somewhat happier note, here are some things that have made me very happy recently:

I watched this movie last night and was reminded of how absolutely amazing it truly is. Its a movie called "Spirited Away" by the Japanese master of animation Hayao Miyazaki. I love all of his films (at least the ones I've seen), but "Spirited Away" has a special place in my heart. In this film Miyazaki takes his audience to a "Alice in Wonderland" slash "Wizard of Oz" type of world inhabited by an assortment of strange yet beautiful landscapes and endearing characters. "Spirited Away" forces us to look at the world in a more mature way (just like its heroine Chihiro), but allows us to maintain our child-like wonder. I'm not a huge fan of anime, but Miyazaki's films are, to put it simply, masterpieces.

For a couple friends (we've had this stuck in our heads for two days!):

Seriously, how awesome is Mr. Tilney? If you have no idea what I'm talking about, please go read "Northanger Abbey." Do it. Do it NOW!! :)

I decided I'm going to re-read either "Lord of the Rings" or "The Hobbit" over interterm. So excited!!! I just have to survive the rest of this semester... ha.. ha... yeah... but I'm working on an video art project right now that I am excited about working on, so hopefully it will turn out well... if it does, maybe I'll post it on here. I just finished a stop-motion animation recently as well... and hopefully I can post that too. It was actually pretty difficult to do within the time constraints imposed upon me. I basically did all of it (except shoot the photos) in one straight 8 hour period in the computer lab at school. My eyes really hurt by the end of the day....

I've decided I'm a hippie at heart. I went to an awesome place on Friday with some friends called "The Lab." It's a bohemian-ish "anti-mall" down in Costa Mesa with a few boutiques and a cafe called "The Gypsy Den." Quite frankly, it awesome. I love funky clothes, indie-retro stuff, folk music (Cat Steven!) and Man, I am such a hippie....

While at "The Lab," my friends and I were reading some beautiful poetry. Blows my mind:

Men's curiosity searches past and future
And clings to that dimension. But to apprehend
The point of intersection of the timeless
With time, is an occupation for the saint—
No occupation either, but something given
And taken, in a lifetime's death in love,
Ardour and selflessness and self-surrender.
For most of us, there is only the unattended
Moment, the moment in and out of time,
The distraction fit, lost in a shaft of sunlight,
The wild thyme unseen, or the winter lightning
Or the waterfall, or music heard so deeply
That it is not heard at all, but you are the music
While the music lasts. These are only hints and guesses,
Hints followed by guesses; and the rest
Is prayer, observance, discipline, thought and action.
The hint half guessed, the gift half understood, is Incarnation.
Here the impossible union
Of spheres of existence is actual,
Here the past and future
Are conquered, and reconciled,
Where action were otherwise movement
Of that which is only moved
And has in it no source of movement—
Driven by daemonic, chthonic
Powers. And right action is freedom
From past and future also.
For most of us, this is the aim
Never here to be realised;
Who are only undefeated
Because we have gone on trying;
We, content at the last
If our temporal reversion nourish
(Not too far from the yew-tree)
The life of significant soil.

-T.S. Eliot from "The Dry Salvages"

Modern Hitchcock

2008-07-21T09:57:00.000-07:00

I found these while surfing the web yesterday. Whoever thought of this photo shoot was an absolute genius. So here are a few of my favorite images from "Vanity Fair's" Hitchcock tribute:

Gwyneth Paltrow and Robert Downey Jr. as Grace Kelley and Carry Grant in "To Catch a Thief":



Scarlett Johansson and Javier Bardem as Grace Kelley and Jimmy Stewart in "Rear Window":



Emile Hirsch and James MacAvoy as Farley Granger and Robert Walker in "Strangers on a Train":



Kiera Knightley and Jennifer Jason Leigh as Joan Fontaine and Judith Anderson in "Rebecca" :

End of the Year Reflections

2008-06-26T17:56:00.000-07:00

Yes. I know. I'm kinda, ok... REALLY, late in getting these up here. But I felt I should share a little bit of how my senior year has been.

I've learned countless lessons this year that you cannot find in the average public high school textbook. I learned how to be a leader, to discipline myself to commit and apply myself to a task (even if no one is breathing down my neck), to take responsibility in difficult situations, to stand unafraid in the face of judgement, to present myself well at an audition or job interview, speak confidently about my faith when there's a great chance I will be ridiculed or shot down, and finally to learn to take risks. I'm not professing myself to be an expert in any of these fields, but with God's help, I feel that I have matured and grown in ways hitherto undeveloped or suppressed by my own timidity or inexperience.

Let's begin with literature.
I won't say a WHOLE lot on this subject (because trust me, I could ramble on and on). Because I graduated from Torrey Academy last year, but still had one more year of English to complete, my mother and I decided to have me read a diverse selection of great classics. Without my Torrey "family," I will admit I felt kinda like a shipwreck victim set afloat on a rickety raft in the middle of a vast and tumultuous ocean. Nevertheless, despite the fear, there was much beauty to discover in that ocean. I began with the Greeks (The Iliad, The Three Theban Plays, etc.) and eventually worked my way to late 18th century European literature (The Brothers Karamazov, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr Hyde). I struggled through some of the denser books, and I guess this is where I was reminded (though I have been taught this many times in my years of Torrey) that though a book may prove difficult to finish, once you are done, you may discover that you have learned and discovered more that you originally thought. Such was the case when I read The Fountainheadd by Ayn Rand. The reading was not difficult, but I struggled to finish this book because my religious and moral convictions were constantly at war with Rand's ideals and philosophy. I did finish it: all 700 pages. But I think I learned more about the discernment of false ideas, and how to, as Aristotle put it, "entertain a thought without accepting it." However, most of the books I read this year I enjoyed so much, I could not put them down. Such was the case when I read The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I absolutely loved Hugo's style (due in part to the lovely and readable translation I have) and the beauty of his prose both astounded and moved me deeply.

Next, we'll move on to theater:
In theater, this whole year has been a roller-coaster experience. I'm sure most of you have read about my experiences during our fall production of Godspell. As a sort of postscript to that entry, I would like to add a small story that happened recently. The seniors were all asked to speak during the intermission the shows for our spring production of Annie Get Your Gun the Revival about our experiences during our time at BYT. I chose to speak about what God has taught me at BYT. In short, I talked about how I learned to trust God, citing my experiences during Godspell as an example. I feel that despite all the pressure and responsibility placed on me during that show, I was extremely blessed by it, and by all the dancers I was leading. Well, during our BYT graduation, I ran into the girl I had replaced as dance captain during Godspell. We chatted for a second and then she added that she had seen me speak at the performance the other night. Then she added that as I talked, she felt like God was telling her that this was the ultimate reason she stepped down; so that I could have the amazing experience I did, and be blessed by God. Then we both started crying. Anyways, this past semester brought new perspective and, of course, lessons of its own as I performed as Dolly Tate in Annie Get Your Gun the Revivall. Its still difficult for me to think about this past show partly because it all happened so recently, partly because I'm still processing it all, and thirdly it all just seems so surreal right now. So, here a picture. :)

Ok.. dude... I loved this dress... isn't it fantastic. Its so showy and sequin-y! One little boy told me it looked like a diamond mine threw up on me...

Next on the menu is art:
Well, this has also been a topsy-turvy matter as well. Last year, as again many of you will know, I participated in a program called Ryman Arts. I was very privileged and blessed to have been able to participate in the program and I hoped to continue my entire senior year. However, because of the demands of rehearsals for BYT, I had to drop out during the fall semester. This greatly disappointed me, but like always, God knows what is best. When the spring semester rolled around, I was able to participate in both BYT and Ryman. To say the least, this class was somewhat different than the Beginning class the previous year. Firstly, the beginning class mainly focused on the basic principles of drawing (perspective, shading, chiaroscuro, color etc) whereas the Intermediate class focused on the drawing of the form (either with pencil, charcoal, or even watercolor). We therefore had many live models of both genders... clothed and unclothed, but mostly the latter. I have found that when I tell people about this experience (mostly in warnings to uber-conservative parents interested in Ryman), that they are infinitely more weirded out than I was.... Anyways... secondly, I must say that I really appreciated my teacher, David. He was honest and sometimes very brutal in critiques, but he helped me to greatly improve my work through his diligence to excellence and unbridled creativity. I am grateful for his passion for art and for imparting even of a little of that passion to my own burgeoning creativity. I also felt like God was pushing on me to reach out to David (who openly expressed his anti-religious sentiments) and to my classmates, not by shoving a Bible down their throats, but by simply talking to them, being kind and considerate and even discussing my faith if asked. Every week I would try to be and do all those things, and I ended up with several new friends and a teacher who may not have agreed with me on religion, but who liked and respected me. Here are a piece I photographed before I turned it in:
This is a still life I drew with my feet... you read it right... I put the charcoal between my feet.. and.. never mind...

Besides Ryman, I also participated in the Spotlight Awards, hosted by the Music Center of Los Angeles. I at first applied for their opera competition, but did not qualify for the next round. I then found out about their fin art competition and submitted a photography piece I had been working on. The next thing I knew I had made it past the first round of reviews and was asked to come to the Music Center and participate in a portfolio review with several high-ranking professional photographers (one had worked closely with Stanley Kubrick and Baz Lurhmann if that gives you an idea). This understandably, scared me out of my wits. But I swallowed my fears and went in with as much confidence as I could muster. To my own surprise, I was able to carry on a lengthy discussion on my work and answer all their questions without tripping myself up! Haha! Soon after I found out I was a semi-finalist and was having my work displayed at a gallery in LA. Even though I was not one of the two finalists, I had a simply amazing experience during the whole competition. All the employees and coordinators of the Spotlight Awards are all so understanding, courteous, and have given me many exciting opportunities (such as a master class with celebrated photographer Mark Edward Harris, and a scholarship to attend film classes at Art Center). My mother and I also received complementary tickets to attend the awards ceremony at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion:

Here is me outside the Dorothy Chandler... all dressed up.... :)

And here is my art up on the bid screen before the ceremony started.

I think that pretty much sums up a lot of what I've learned this year. I did plenty more (kept up with Latin, GRADUATED!!, another play, "A Romance to Remember" [in which I played an amazing Time Elf named Violet], wrote lots of essays, sewed my own prom dress, and watched many films and wrote essays on a few [for a class]). If you've gotten this far, thank you. I have had an eventful year and wanted to share some of it with you all. I am excited as I reflect back on all I have learned and look forward to applying it as I head of to college next year. I wonder what I will be able to write at the end of next year. :)

Classic Movies

2008-05-10T21:58:00.000-07:00

I have always loved classic films. I know I have said this in a previous post, but I guess I can't seem to say it enough. Whenever my sister and I would have the opportunity to go to the store and rent movies, we experienced an automatic magnetism towards the old Hollywood classics. Fred Astaire, Carry Grant, Gene Kelley, Judy Garland, Bob Hope were (and are) well worn and well loved names in our household. During this past year, I have begun to view more films considered by fans and film critics alike to be among the greatest movies of all time. I have also come into an appreciation of author and critic Roger Ebert. Besides being the only film critic to ever win the Pulitzer Prize for Journalism, he is an extremely well educated writer, who provides his audience with a tasteful mixture of wit, intellectualism and simplicity. He is able to captivate the reader and broaden their understanding and appreciation of film, without insulting them by sounding snobby. For my mother, who loves to watch these films with me, for you, dear reader, that you may captivated by these amazing films and by the essays of Ebert, I have posted only a few clips from among many iconic classics. Enjoy!

Sunset Boulevard:

The Third Man:

The Night of the Hunter:

A Hard Day's Night:

Isaiah 55:6-13

2008-04-15T18:59:00.001-07:00

"Seek the LORD while He may be found;
Call upon Him while He is near.
Let the wicked forsake his way
And the unrighteous man his thoughts;
And let him return to the LORD,
And He will have compassion on him,
And to our God,
For He will abundantly pardon.
'For My thoughts are not your thoughts,
Nor are your ways My ways,' declares the LORD.
'For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
So are My ways higher than your ways
And My thoughts than your thoughts.
For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven,
And do not return there without watering the earth
And making it bear and sprout,
And furnishing seed to the sower and bread to the eater;
So will My word be which goes forth from My mouth;
It will not return to Me empty,
Without accomplishing what I desire,
And without succeeding in the matter for which I sent it.
For you will go out with joy
And be led forth with peace;
The mountains and the hills will break forth into shouts of joy before you,
And all the trees of the field will clap their hands.
Instead of the thorn bush the cypress will come up,
And instead of the nettle the myrtle will come up,
And it will be a memorial to the LORD,
For an everlasting sign which will not be cut off.'"

Dance Macabre

2008-03-28T17:17:00.000-07:00

This is pretty awesome. For any of you "Prisoner" fans out there.

"Dance Macabre" by Carmel Morris

Grace Amidst Pain

2008-03-12T23:14:00.000-07:00

Most of you who read my blog already know what transpired this weekend, but I thought I would write about it, simply because I have explained the situation to so many people already this week, but have not had time to really talk about my experience. I don't recount any of this to incite a pity party or simply to make you feel sorry for me. I just want to be able to explain to anyone who cares what actually happened, and to process this experience.

It started on Friday evening when my sister, Jane and I went out to dinner. I have suffered from chronic acid reflux in the last few years, but it has never been serious enough for my doctor to have any major concerns. When we began eating, I felt extremely normal. But after a few bites I began to feel the familiar burning sensation in my throat and immediately ran to the bathroom, where, on a normal day, I simply pace about until the burning subsides. This was not a normal day however. I will spare you the grotesque details, but needless to say I vomited. A lot. And experienced a pain level for the acid burning that was entirely new to me. I tried to drink some water from the faucet. My body simply rejected it. Thankfully there weren't a whole lot of people in the restaurant who needed to use the bathroom. I was in there for a full half hour. It finally began to settle and I was able to rejoin my rather anxious party. I found my glass of water still sitting on the table. I wanted so badly to drink it, but fear of repeating the scene I had so recently concluded prevented me at first. However I eventually summoned the courage and took a sip. I was alright. I thought that the worst had past. I soon realized that I was actually quite hungry because I really hadn't had anything to eat. We drove to downtown Brea to see if we could catch a movie, but the stupid theatre had awful show times. We walked across the street to Coldstone Ice Cream, where I convinced my sister to buy me a "second dinner." What a horrible choice I made just then. Not only to try and eat again so soon, but to guilt my sister into spending money she couldn't spend. The first few bites were fine. But then the burning and pain followed. It was happening all over again. I asked the girls if we could just go home, and they readily agreed. After about another half hour, the pain died down, but it remained minimally; flaring up once in a while. When I went to bed, I couldn't sleep. I finally couldn't stand the pain any longer and went and woke up may dad at about 2 am. He went out to the store and bought some Maylanta, hoping it would help. Once again, I couldn't keep the Maylanta or water down and my dad decided it was time to take me to the emergency room.

Even at 3 am, we still had quite a wait to get into the ER. Although, admittedly it was a Friday night/Saturday morning. Need I say more? Anyways, we sat in the lobby for a while, mindlessly watching the lobby television as it played one of the worst movies ever to waste film: "Anaconda II." But, at least it kept me preoccupied. When I was finally ushered into a ER room, the nurse came and gave me some more Maylanta with some Lidocaine in it to help reduce the acid and dull the pain. However, once I drank it, it immediately and exponentially magnified the pain. The doctor arrived soon, realizing how much pain I was in and that I was dehydrated, ordered an IV and some morphine. Although I am not frightened of needles, I have never had an IV before, and so the idea made me somewhat nervous. But, once the needle was in my arm and I was given the morphine, it didn't seem to matter. I immediately began very tired, dizzy and the pain seemed to subside. About forty minutes later, they brought me some water to see if I could drink it, and once again, the pain returned. Thankfully, so did the morphine. After another shot of Maylanta (which I still could not keep down) they brought a new anti-acid drug which they attached to my IV. After another hour, I felt so much better. I was able to drink water without discomfort. Hurrah! Soon afterwards I was released. It was 10:30 am. I must say, before I conclude that my ER doctor was a very nice, considerate and helpful man. I appreciate all of the care extended by both him and the nursing staff.

Although, it was not exactly the best weekend ever, I am grateful to God that it wasn't something for more serious that would have required more immediate and drastic action (because it could have been). I am grateful for the ER staff who were all very helpful, attentive and compassionate. I am grateful for my sister and for Jane, who were both so understanding of my situation and willing to sacrifice most of their Friday evening to afford me some comfort. I am grateful to all of my loving friends at school, Church, theatre, and home group who have so diligently prayed for me this weekend. I am grateful to my dad for sitting up with me at all hours of the morning, taking me to the ER, sitting next to me and making fun of "Anaconda II" in the lobby, and holding my hand when I would go through a spasm of pain. Thank you Lord for the situations in our lives that may not be pleasant (or may even be extremely difficult) for us to live through, but help us to recognize the grace and love you extend towards your children, and to recognize the support of the friends and family around us who truly care for us. Thank you God for the moments of utter joy and contentment, but also for times of trial and pain. We need not fear. You are there.

Captain's Log.

2008-03-05T15:02:00.000-08:00

Star date -314818.0783242258 (and yes, this is the real star date for March 7, 2008 at 2:00 pm [even though blogger says its 3pm, its actually 2pm...]). I have never really been into the idea of "Star Trek:The Original Series." It always seemed so overdone and almost... if I may say it..... plain stupid. I was also under the impression that those who enjoyed "Star Wars" (I count myself among that number), were always the mortal enemies of the Trekkies. I was wrong. My parents had tried to introduce my sister and I to the show when we were younger, but I must admit that I failed to recognize its true genius. Recently I discovered you can watch full episodes online at CBS's website, and so one day I just decided to watch one. It was absolutely amazing!! The show can be both comical and dramatic, and always somewhat predictable. But its predictability almost doesn't seem to matter. The ingenuity, the characters, and even the often campy plot lines, make the show wonderfully fun and enjoyable to watch. So to all of you out there who think you are too good for "Star Trek", maybe you should think again. I did, and now I am officially a Trekkie.
:)

Classic Comedy Genius

2008-02-27T23:23:00.000-08:00

What can I say? I love old films. I love their charm, beauty and wit. I also have a special place in my heart for classic comedic films. The genius of the Marx Brothers, of films like "Some Like it Hot," "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World," and "Arsenic and Old Lace" cannot be paralleled. For those of you who read my blog but have not had the opportunity or inclination to see such films, here is a small taste. I hope you will be able to appreciate the utter genius of all of these scenes and that they will inspire you to see the films.

From "Some Like it Hot":

From "Duck Soup":

And from "Arsenic and Old Lace": (this scene is somewhat long, but Cary Grant is fantastic)

Ho-ho-homoousias

2007-12-23T16:40:00.001-08:00

I saw a link to this on one of my favorite blogs. I thought I would share. I hope you find it as profound and meaningful as I have. Enjoy and Merry Christmas. May the season bring you all possible joys.

"Words, words, words"

2007-12-06T22:21:00.000-08:00

Every time I come to write something for my blog, I seem to get a severe case of writer's block. I have so many ideas and thoughts that float through my conscious mind but whenever I sit down and actually try to write them out, the words always appear to die before they reach through my fingers to the computer keys. I'm not sure if this is a very good habit to form, and so I am endeavoring to break it by simply writing and attempting to express my reflections in intelligent conversations with others. Often times I struggle to compose my thoughts without first expressing them through spoken language. By talking out loud, I am forced to understand the concepts first, form a viewpoint and flush out any fallacious ideas before I begin the actual writing process. And although I am not always afforded this luxury, I am extremely grateful for any opportunity when I can employ this method. I began to think about all of this during the course of yesterday evening. How amazing is our Creator, that He has endowed in us an ability to not only reason and emote, but to then be able to communicate those thoughts and feelings to other immortal souls through language? I just finished reading Frankenstein , and I was struck by one curious topic that arose. In all of the campy, melodramatic, and often faulty renditions of Frankenstein produced throughout the years, the monster always seems to communicate through a series of groans or moans before he rushes fulfill his "animal" desires by murdering another innocent human being. However, in the novel, through months and even years of painstaking effort, the monster learns the language of men and becomes so eloquent that he is able to persuade Victor Frankenstein that a female companion must be made to afford him any happiness in a world that otherwise abhors his presence. Why did so many adaptations neglect to give him the power of speech? I mean, isn't that exactly what it is? Power? The monsters in all of the bad Saturday matinee movies are rarely given this faculty, alienating them from anything that even appears remotely human in an attempt to make them more frightening and remove us from sentiments of pity or compassion. However, when Frankenstein's monster speaks in a tongue recognizable to human ears, doesn't that make the situation somewhat more frightening? But then why is this more frightening? Perhaps it's because we recognize that a man has unlocked the key to existence and given life to a being, defying all of the natural and moral laws, and yet that being is able to experience and communicate feelings and ideas that are characteristic of mankind and even appears to possess a soul. As I read Frankenstein, I felt compelled to pity the monster as he related his tragic tale and his simple desire for companionship and love. But each time Frankenstein himself would provide prospective by relating the horrifying details of another of the monster's blood-thirsty and vengeful crimes. Isn't it simply amazing how our attitudes can shift with such celerity? One minute we watch Boris Karloff moan as he tosses a young girl into a lake, and we simply shutter at the grotesque spectacle, but the next, with the simple addition of spoken language, we pity and are almost inveigled by the monster's eloquent speeches. Should we feel pity for Frankenstein's monster? a living being created through man's skill yet in possession of what appears to be a soul? In the end, the monster doesn't seem to think so. But I'm still not sure. Perhaps I still need to think about it and discuss it some more....

O Blogge, Where Hast Thou Gone?

2007-11-21T13:52:00.000-08:00

I haven't posted in a while. What to say? Well...

I auditioned for the "Spotlight Awards" at the Dorthy Chandler in LA.

I went and saw a production of Fools. Makes me laugh.

I think Candide is a rather naïve and shallow character.

"We're so alike. Only your hair is so much shorter than mine."

I started college applications.

I'm drowning in sea of essays and forms.

*gurgle.... gurgle*

I watched The Terminal last night. I remembered how cool Kaminski is.

I started Henry V. I LOVE SHAKESPEARE!!!!!

I love my dog. She is fuzzy.

That is all for now. Must be more creative.... cogite...cogite....

It is well

2007-10-17T19:24:00.000-07:00

I think it was on Saturday when the director at my theatre company delivered the devotion to the cast. Although I had already heard this hymn before (and knew the background information concerning its conception), I was reminded once again of the powerful love of God to bring peace, even in times of trouble. I can't even fathom having lost five of my children under such tragic circumstances and then writing something so profoundly moving and amazingly powerful. Thank you Lord that you do indeed bring such indescribable peace to our souls!

It Is Well With My Soul
Text: Horatio G. Spafford
Music: Philip P. Bliss

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Refrain:
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

(Refrain)

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

(Refrain)

For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

(Refrain)

But, Lord, ‘tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh trump of the angel! Oh voice of the Lord!
Blessèd hope, blessèd rest of my soul!

(Refrain)

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

(Refrain)

Homer Buddies

2007-09-25T21:19:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I spent all morning reading the "Odyssey" until I went to a voice lesson in the afternoon and then a play rehearsal in the evening. I must say that I am really enjoying the the "Odyssey," and am ashamed to admit that I am enjoying it more than the "Iliad" (they are both works that are necessary reading for the well educated individual). However, when you have been trying to read parts of the "Iliad" out loud to yourself and it takes you a half an hour to get through two pages while you struggle with the slew of barely pronounceable Greek names, you might become slightly tired of reading it too. I kid. The "Iliad" is truly a masterpiece of Greek literature and certainly poses many interesting questions concerning the nature of heroism, honor for the dead, the roles of women within the ancient society and so much more. Awesome food for thought. Go gorge yourself.

Anyways, I got up yesterday morning and went to the red chair that sits my window and I opened the blinds to let the glorious sunshine in. I sat down and began reading where I had left off the day before. Maybe about five pages into reading, the dog happily trots in and contentedly lays by my feet. I pat her for a while, all the while continuing to read. Suddenly the dog gets up and trots out of the room, shortly returns only to paw at my chair as if to say "Silly human. This is my chair. GET OUT!" I firmly answered with a "No Emma" determining not to pay her any more mind. Suddenly the dog jumps up onto the chair and makes herself comfortable on my lap. Luckily she is a rather small dog, otherwise this could have been a potentially painful experience. She settles down and promptly falls fast asleep suspended on my lap. I place my book precariously upon her stomach and continue. She lay there for about 45 minutes, occasionally looking out of the window, which would then cause my book to go cascading down the slope of her stomach causing me to loose my place. My dad walked in to say good morning and found this rather strange yet humorous sight. He looked apprehensively at the dog. I declared emphatically, "She is my Homer buddy today."

Me....

2007-09-21T17:03:00.000-07:00

hard at work at one of my dad's video shoots. Can you guess what I was doing?

Oh, I'm sorry, you didn't answer in the form of a question. The answer was "What is keeping time code?" :)

The Deeds of Mercy

2007-08-04T22:59:00.000-07:00

Well, last night I went and saw an excellent production of The Merchant of Venice performed by the "Shakespeare by the Sea" company. Every summer "Shakespeare by the Sea" chooses two Shakespeare plays (usually a comedy and a tragedy) and travels to different oceanic cities around Southern California for six weeks giving quality performances absolutely free. I must admit I was somewhat apprehensive about going this year after being quite disappointed by their performance of Hamlet last summer. However The Merchant of Venice turned out to be quite enjoyable. Despite never having seen the play in its entirety before, and only having read portions of the text itself, I already had an appreciation for its characters and plot. Before I continue I must commend the actors who played Shylock and Antonio, who were both excellently cast and convincing in their roles as the bitter Jew and the unfortunate merchant.

Here is Antonio and Bassanio making the agreement with Shylock

Here is Bassanio winning the hand of the fair Portia.

In addition to enjoying the play for its quick wit and gripping plot, Shakespeare presents a rather interesting and important theme of mercy. Early in the play, the merchant Antonio agrees to a bond with Shylock wherein, if he cannot repay his debt, he will be forced to surrender a pound of flesh from any portion of the body Shylock so desires. When Antonio's shipments are lost, he is unable to repay the bond and must submit to its gruesome requirements. During the climax of the play (Act IV Scene I) Bassanio's wife Portia (unbeknownst to him) arrives at the court disguised as a man to act as Antonio's lawyer. She tries to convince Shylock that he should show mercy:

PORTIA
Then must the Jew be merciful.

SHYLOCK
On what compulsion must I? tell me that.

PORTIA
The quality of mercy is not strain'd,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this,
That, in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy.

Yet, despite this eloquent speech, Shylock stubbornly demands the letter of the law to be carried out. Portia then plays to Shylock's thirst for justice by pretending to wish an ill fate upon Antonio. However, she warns Shylock that the agreement says nothing of Antonio's blood and that if a drop is extracted, Shylock may be condemned to death. In despair, Shylock must beg for mercy and is forced by the court to forfeit half his lands and to become a Christian. In this scene it is interesting to notice Shylock's demand for the exact letter of the Law and his wish only for justice instead of mercy. One may wonder though: did the court really show Shylock true mercy? and can you really force another person to change their beliefs by simply demanding that they do so? When an individual becomes a Christian, a change of heart is necessary for true conversion. One may claim to be a Christian and maintain the outward pious appearance, but without repentance, they remain unchanged by the grace of God. In Romans, Paul asserts this when he proclaims, “For he is not a Jew who is one outwardly, nor is circumcision that which is outwardly in the flesh. But he is a Jew who is one inwardly; and circumcision is that which is of the heart, by the Spirit, not by the letter; and his praise is not from men, but from God” (2:28-29). Just as one cannot be a Jew by claiming to be so without any belief, one cannot be a Christian by solely proclaiming to be one out of fear, but must also have a profound sincerity of heart coupled with a proclamation of faith. Just some stuff to think about.

The speech Portia gives is exquisitly beautiful. The Bard was indeed a very brilliant and wise man. Man's mercy is indeed a slight fraction of the true power of the mercy of God. Humankind is enslaved in a bond much like Antonio, but with much graver consequences. In the end, we do not shed our own blood, similar once again to Antonio, because Christ has already paid for the bond through His mercy, His own blood. Though God is just, He is also merciful, for He offers us the opportunity of eternal life.

Thank you William Shakespeare for giving me so much food for thought.

Thomas Aquinas Prayer

2007-07-26T23:30:00.000-07:00

A Prayer for the Virtues

O Almighty and all-knowing God, without beginning or end, who art the
giver, preserver, and rewarder of all virtue:

Grant me to stand firm on the solid foundation of faith, be protected by
the invincible shield of hope, and be adorned by the nuptial garment of
charity;

Grant me by justice to obey thee, by prudence to resist the crafts of the
Devil, by temperance to hold to moderation, by fortitude to bear adversity
with patience;

Grant that the goods that I have I may share liberally with those who
have
not, and the good that I do not have I may seek with humility from those
who have;

Grant that I may truly recognize the guilt of the evil I have done, and
bear with equanimity the punishments I have deserved; that I may never
lust after the goods of my neighbor, but always give thanks to thee for
all thy good gifts.

Plant in me, O Lord, all thy virtues, that in divine matters I might be
devout, in human affairs wise, and in the proper needs of the flesh
onerous to no one.

And grant that I may never rush to do things hastily, nor balk to do
things demanding, so that I neither yearn for things too soon, nor desert
things before they are
finished.

Amen.

(sorry for not posting a lot recently, but I'll be back to posting more regularly soon)

Happy Fourth Everyone!

2007-07-04T14:29:00.000-07:00

In spite of my wish to be more profound about the Fourth of July, I thought I'd let Fred do the talking with his feet. Enjoy!!!

And Flopsy's Glad Too....

2007-06-15T12:38:00.000-07:00

Aren't you Flopsy?

I definitely love these Monty Python sketches....

End of the Year Reflections

2007-06-03T21:58:00.000-07:00

Wow. On Friday I finished my third year of high school. I still can't believe that I am done..... YAY!!! It has definitely been a memorable year. My third year in Latin, my first year of the Ryman program, "Dracula vs. the Lochness Monster with Ninjas," my first lead role at BYT as Mrs. Higgins, and last but not least, I finished my third and last year of Torrey Academy. I cannot begin to express how grateful I am for this program. It has changed me in so many ways. I have grown as a student (reading some of the greatest literature), as a person (learning to think and discuss articulately with my peers), and as a Christian (through contemplation of many of the texts and devotions). All three years have taught me so much in their own ways. For the last two years I have been privileged to have the same Torrey tutor, Mrs. Anderson. To you Mrs. Anderson, I just want to say thank you so much for all the knowledge and guidance you have given to all of your students. We will all dearly miss you. And to my class, Gabrielle, James, Christina, Kyle and Julia:

you guys have been so awesome and I am so grateful to have know you these last three years and I pray that as you go off to college that you continue to seek the Lord and His will for your lives. Thank you for all of the laughter and even the moments of heated disagreement :)
On Friday night our entire class attended the Torrey Banquet to celebrate our successful completion of the year. The student musicians were very good, MK and Kyle, you guys rock! and the food was actually pretty good (for banquet food). It was also a very exciting night. Both Julia and I won term paper awards! She won second place for the Faith of Our Fathers papers and then I won the "Aston Moffat Excellence in Scholarship" Award for my last term paper about the poet Petrarch. (in case you are wondering, Aston Moffat is a character from Charles Williams great work "Descent into Hell" who is a true scholar, compared with Wentworth, who could honestly care less about any sort of scholarship). It was so exciting and such an honor! I thought I was going to pass out I was so surprised. When they called my name I could barely believe it and I only moved from my seat once my fellow classmates began prodding me. :)
Anyways...
Thank you guys so much for everything. I will miss you.

W. Rabbit's House

2007-06-03T00:04:00.000-07:00

For one of my final projects of the year was to build a themed miniature garden, so I chose Alice and Wonderland. At first I had planned to do an all-encompassing sort of Wonderland theme, but then I decided to narrow in my focus a little. I must say that the results were pretty awesome. I built both the box and the house (with some assistance) and then I painted the house and painstakingly thatched the roof with pine needles that my mother and I gathered from planters in front of our neighborhood Vons.

I also made the rabbit on the front porch. And I'm not sure if you can see it clearly in any of these photographs, but I added an arm in the window (Alice's). :) I'm really happy with how it turned out.

'Sup

2007-04-29T23:52:00.000-07:00

My dad an I were driving home from USC yesterday when we drove to Del Taco to pick up something to eat. I ordered my usual meal of two burritos and a quesadilla, but my dad decided to order a meal (which consequently comes with french fries). When I was unwrapping the food in order to find the items I so anxiously longed to devour, an avalanche of small packets of ketchup came spilling into my lap. I paid no heed and began shoveling them back into the bag when I flipped on of them over and read: "Del Taco's Fancy Ketchup". May I venture to ask what qualifies ketchup as fancy? This may seem like a really stupid question... but I would like to know if anyone knows or has a guess. No reason. Just curious. :)

A Sonet for a Sunday Afternoon

2007-04-22T17:11:00.000-07:00

A Sonnet: Burning (by Me)

Such loving hands define thy gentle form,
Each mark inspired by gentle God above,
How many lives each thought then did transform,
Full tales of noble chivalry and love.

How long they sleep in darkest corner hid,
Forgotten, through once loved by each man,
Restored to former glory like “El Cid,”
Though Time’s tiered mind has come and ran.

New shadows creep across the darkened sky,
Good friends laid waste and naked on the pyre,
Remorseless hands strike out, as they all cry,
E’er lost within the all consuming fire.

Bright tongues lift high and angry crimson glows,
The blood-like ink from which a river flows.

hehe

2007-04-15T17:04:00.000-07:00

I laughed so hard when I found this that I nearly passed water through my nose!!

Yeah......

Blessed Easter!

2007-04-08T14:16:00.000-07:00

Hallelujah the Lord has risen,
Jesus, You have conquered the grave,
Lift your voices, shout the good news,
Great is our God and mighty to save!!!

Amazing!!

2007-04-01T17:48:00.000-07:00

I was listening to this song on my computer and I was suddenly remined of a video my dad showed me a while back. This man is pretty awesome!

Ponderings and Large Mammals

2007-03-24T16:30:00.000-07:00

Huzzah! I finally finished the great presentation of doom on Wednesday! (quiet cheers as Armand lifts her hands in victory as the "Rocky" theme plays in the background) It is done! YAY!!!!! Anyway, the other night I was reading a section of C.S. Lewis' "The Silver Chair" (procrastination! shocking! gasp! falls over into a heap!) and I was interested by something that Puddleglum the Marshwiggle says. When the evil Witch has captured the four main heroes under her enchantment, and subsequently questioning their knowledge of reality (by asking them to define the sun or a lion [which they are unable to do to the Witch's satisfaction]), Puddleglum's will remains so deeply rooted in the reality he knows and recognizes as truth, that he is able to withstand the stupor that seizes the other characters. Upon breaking the Witch's enchantment Puddleglum says: "Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things--trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that's funny thing, when you come to think of it. We're just babies making up a game, if you're right. But four babies playing a game can make a play-world which licks your real world hollow. That's why I'm going to stand by the play-world. I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live like a Narnian as I can even if there isn't any Narnia." What an awesome testament for the existence of a God who is so much greater and more wonderful than we could possibly imagine He could be. If we imagine Him as anything less, we are just deluding ourselves in a false reality such as the Witch's. We can believe in something and Someone so much more powerful. Just some cool stuff to think about.

And then today I went to Ryman art classes and, for the second week in a row, we walked over to the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County (not that far away considering that we were only at USC) to do drawings of animals. So lately I've been making the acquaintance of a rather angry looking stuffed grizzly bear. He has been a joy to draw, other than my leg falling asleep :) But it is always interesting to see the groups and families that come to the museum to see all of the exhibits. You also get lots of people either watching over your shoulder or as one group of little girls did, sit down next to you and point out that your drawing looks like the bear. :) it was pretty cute. Some children simply need to be rangled by their parents (at one point I stepped back across the room with my teacher and some children stood uncomfortably close to my drawing and the parents did nothing about it!*sigh* anyway, at another point I stepped away from my drawing to view it again and (I didn't even notice until I was walking back towards it) but a bunch of guys were standing a few feet away from it and taking pictures of my drawing with their cell phones...grrrrr......Well, I have done my venting for the day... :)

Happy St. Patrick's Day

2007-03-17T22:53:00.000-07:00

St. Patrick's Breastplate

I rise today:
in power's strength, invoking the Trinity,
believing in threeness,
confessing the oneness,
of Creation's Creator.
I rise today:
in the power of Christ's birth and baptism,
in the power of his crucifixion and burial,
in the power of his rising and ascending,
in the power of his descending and judging.
I rise today:
in the power of the love of Cherubim,
in the obedience of angels,
and service of the archangels,
in hope of rising to receive the award,
in the prayers of Patriarchs,
in the predictions of prophets,
in the preachings of Apostles,
in the faith of confessors,
in the innocence of holy virgins,
in the deeds of the righteous.
I rise today:
in Heavens might,
in Sun's brightness,
in Moon's radiance,
in Fire's glory,
in Lightning's quickness,
in Wind's swiftness,
in Sea's depth,
in Earth's stability,
in Rock's fixity.
I rise today:
with the power of God to pilot me,
God's strength to sustain me,
God's wisdom to guide me,
God's eye to look ahead for me,
God's ear to hear me,
God's word to speak for me,
God's hand to protect me,
God's way before me,
God's shield to defend me,
God's host to deliver me:
from snares of devils
from evil temptations,
from nature's failings,
from all who wish to harm me,
far or near,
alone and in a crowd.
Around me I gather today all these powers:
against every cruel and merciless force,
to attack my body and soul,
against the charms of false prophets,
the black laws of paganism,
the false laws of heretics,
the deceptions of idolatry,
against spells cast by women, smiths, and druids,
and all unlawful knowledge
that harms the body and soul.
May Christ protect my today:
against poison and burning,
against drowning and wounding,
so that I may have abundant reward;
Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ within me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ to the right of me, Christ to the left of me;
Christ in my lying, Christ in my sitting, Christ in my rising;
Christ in the heart of all who think of me,
Christ on the tongue of all who speak to me,
Christ in the eye of all who see me,
Christ in the ear of all who hear me.
I rise today:
in the power's strength, invoking the Trinity,
believing the threeness,
confessing the oneness,
of Creation's Creator.
For to the Lord belongs salvation,
and to the Lord belongs salvation,
and to Christ belongs salvations.
May your salvation, Lord, be with us always.

Dracula

2007-03-03T23:12:00.000-08:00

You all need to come and see this next weekend! MUST!!!! :)

The Misses Vickers

2007-03-01T15:45:00.000-08:00

Super Happy Fun Time!

2007-02-26T09:21:00.001-08:00

I'd forgotten how much I love the Getty! While we were at the Getty we visited an exhibit on French Illuminations. Now, you have to understand that for Torrey I did my presentation on The Consolation of Philosophy and thus I have this sort of strange love for all things related to it. So when I saw these, I nearly jumped out of my skin!

Illustrations from a manuscript from "The Consolation of Philosophy." They are just so beautiful, and to actually see them was neat.

Muffins!!

2007-02-22T16:14:00.000-08:00

ALGERNON
If it was my business, I wouldn't talk about it. [Begins to eat muffins.] It is very vulgar to talk about one's business. Only people like stock-brokers do that, and then merely at dinner parties.
JACK
How can you sit there, calmly eating muffins when we are in this horrible trouble, I can't make out. You seem to me to be perfectly heartless.
ALGERNON
Well, I can't eat muffins in an agitated manner. The butter would probably get on my cuffs. One should always eat muffins quite calmly. It is the only way to eat them.
JACK
I say it's perfectly heartless your eating muffins at all, under the circumstances.
ALGERNON
When I am in trouble, eating is the only thing that consoles me. Indeed, when I am in really great trouble, as any one who knows me intimately will tell you, I refuse everything except food and drink. At the present moment I am eating muffins because I am unhappy. Besides, I am particularly fond of muffins. [Rising.]
JACK
[Rising.] Well, that is no reason why you should eat them all in that greedy way. [Takes muffins from ALGERNON.]
ALGERNON
[Offering tea-cake.] I wish you would have tea-cake instead. I don't like tea-cake.
JACK
Good heavens! I suppose a man may eat his own muffins in his own garden.
ALGERNON
But you have just said it was perfectly heartless to eat muffins.
JACK
I said it was perfectly heartless of you, under the circumstances. That is a very different thing.
ALGERNON
That may be. But the muffins are the same. [He seizes the muffin-dish from JACK.]
JACK
Algy, I wish to goodness you would go.

A Poem (by me)

2007-02-15T19:01:00.000-08:00

The call strikes and the shadows descend,
Morose, like statues they stand,
Through their faint whispers no message they send
A sea of grey tombstones upon the dead land.
The call strikes again yet no one pays heed,
No ringer required for this bell,
All come to witness the hideous deed
And see one more friend sent to hell.
One step on the grass and the earth beneath shakes
A glint from the hand blinds the eyes
Yet not from the shadows a quiver or quake
The moment before someone dies.
A footstep replies from across the straight way,
The ominous call repeats once again,
Time has come finally for one man to pay,
Two shadows face off on the plain.
How long is the wait before it begins?
The terror is strung on the air,
The final result of man's mortal sins,
All passions and hatred laid bare
Four shoulders heave as they're turned back to back
The shimmer of sweat on the brow,
Eyes bright and fierce but compassion they lack,
Sworn to murder with one solemn vow.
Each step that they take seems as long as a year
Time herself has stopped dead in her tracks,
But from the shadows no sorrow nor tear
Swiftly two shadows turn to attack.
A clear shot rings out upon the thin air
Each shadow piously lowers his head
An offers to God one silent prayer,
For the soul of the one who lays dead.
The shadows move not, but fixed in one place,
This ghastly performance now done
No grief do they feel, nor joy at the face
Of death who feels pity for none.
Feelings devoid, the shadows depart,
Leaving one victor to stand,
Nevermore beating one cold senseless heart,
The final curtain, the duel to demand.

Nerves

2007-01-29T14:01:00.000-08:00

Oh man, yesterday I had a voice recital and I cannot tell you how nervous I was! I usually do not get nervous about performing in front of others, including when I'm performing in plays (although for Torrey I was nervous about my presentation, but perhaps that was because I was presenting an argument that I created and that my teacher and/or peers could rip apart at any moment) but for some reason I was so freaked out. However once I actually go up to the microphone to sing, all of the butterflies in my stomach suddenly disappeared and I actually had fun! *sigh* I was so happy though once I was done. I felt like I did very well and my voice teacher, my parents, and many other people in attendance said I did a good job, so I'm happy. It was also a pleasure to hear all of the other singers who did phenomenal jobs. Huzzah! Anywhoo, I went to Mater Dei on Saturday to take the SAT tests. Again, I was rather nervous, but this was partially due to the fact that 1) I was taking the SATs, 2) that it was an entirely new campus to me and I had no idea where I was supposed to be (especially since they were having another gathering on the campus, so I followed a large crowd hoping that they were taking the SATs, only to find out a little later that I was in the wrong place *sigh*). At least the atmosphere at Mater Dei was nicer than when I took the SATs at a nearby public high school where every other word was a curse or where there were obscene things written on the desk I was sitting at...yeah....well, I am in the midst of writing a poem so hopefully I will have that to post sometime soon! :)

Which Jane Austen Character Are You?

2007-01-25T19:48:00.000-08:00

Apparently, according to a quiz that my friend Jane sent me a while ago, I am Elizabeth Bennet from "Pride & Prejudice"

The first time I took this quiz I was Marianne from "Sense and Sensibility" but after i thought about it, this did not seem to really fit my personality. So I retook the quiz (this time carefully considering each question) and I was Lizzy (which is so cool, because I really love that character). So at the request of some of my friends I am posting a link to the quiz. Which Jane Austen character are you? Find out

Like a Painful Brainfreeze

2007-01-23T15:19:00.000-08:00

My sister and I were flipping through the channels on the television the other night while we were waiting for another show to come on and we landed on the CBS show "CSI: Miami." I apologize in advance to anyone who reads this and loves to watch that show, because...well.....
First off, the colors of the show are so overpowering. Everything has a bright orange or yellow tint, but I assume that this is to give the impression that it is hot outside. Still, it almost gives you a headache to watch. We came in about five minutes late, just as the main detective "Horatio Caine" arrived at the scene of the murder. And, I must say I could not help but laugh! A the beginning of EVERY episode, he comes in, asks the coroner some questions, takes his hip sunglasses off, says something dramatic and "profound", puts the sunglasses back on, says something else dramatic and then swoops out of the shot. I cannot comment too much about the other actors on the show (we kept changing channels), but it gave me great pleasure when the entire cast met at the end of the episode and sauntered off into the sunset. I place this in comparison to my current favorite television show (that is still on the air) Numb3rs (CBS, Fridays at 10:00pm).
This show, also a crime-solving show, has good character development; you discover that you can relate to the faults and strengths of each of them. The acting on this show (including even the more minor characters) is great, and the best thing, it actually makes math INTERESTING!!! I know, weird huh...Anywhooo... I just thought I would share my dislike for CSI: Miami and my love for Numb3rs. :)

From Monet to Magritte

2006-12-30T21:40:00.000-08:00

Today for my 17th birthday, I went see an exhibit at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art featuring Rene Magritte (and several other modern artists). It was so amazing!! It was wonderful to see so many masterpieces that I had only viewed in text books and to be introduced to many new artists throughout the couse of the exhibit.

"The Red Model"

and
"Le Domaine d'Arnheim"

My sister, father and I then walked throught the permanent collection, which included works by Monet, Sargent, Degas, and Cezanne. It nearly took my breath away! The people in the museum must have thought me to be a little strange because I would either be gasping in awe or smiling and clasping my hands with glee. :)

Grooveage!!!!!

2006-12-20T14:05:00.000-08:00

Isn't it so much fun to turn the music in the car up loud and goove as you drive to your desired destination? Yes? But isn't is so much more fun when you have the people in the cars next to you starring and laughing at you while you're doing it? Hey, I don't care what they think. At least it gets people to smile! :)

Music Moves to a Crescendo....

2006-11-20T13:28:00.000-08:00

I went to a concert on Saturday. And no, I didn't go and see a band. Rather I went to a night of wonderful classical music hosted by California State University at Fullerton and performed by the University Symphony Orchestra. My violin teacher was performing and my father and I went to go and see her play. Besides the University orchestra, they also had a guest star, a world renown clarinet player by the name of Richard Stoltzman, who played a clarinet concerto by Aaron Copland. It was a very strange piece; shifting between dark and moody to very jazzy movements. The full orchestra began the night with the opening theme to Star Wars and closed it with the end theme. I must say that I love Star Wars and I also greatly admire the musical achievements of John Williams, who along with James Newton Howard, I believe to be among the greatest composers of the cinematic genre. Williams' music is larger than life and, for me, invokes a feeling of triumph or heroism. There was one piece in particular though, that both my father and I loved. It was Fingal's Cave Overture (the Hebrides), Op. 26 by Mendelssohn. When I glanced over at my father during the course of the piece I thought he was falling asleep. I soon discovered that he was actually so enraptured by the beauty of the music, he had shut his eyes to better enjoy its elegant strains.

After a short intermission, we listened to an entire symphony by Antonin Dvorak (Symphony 9 in E minor) which is so gorgeous and made me incredibly happy to listen to (especially knowing the main theme from the second movement on my violin). I thoroughly enjoyed the evening, for I have not been to a concert in a long time and have been listening to too much rock and roll and soundtracks recently :) But after such a concert, I wonder why many people, including myself, do not listen to classical music more often. The passions and emotions that are invoked by classical and orchestral music are incredibly strong and powerful, and the beauty of the music itself is so stunning, it is difficult for me to see why people do not appreciate it and the great composers of the classical genre more. Music is such a wonderful way to express praise for God and express the beauty of His creation. *sigh* I hope to be going to more concerts and hearing my violin teacher play in the near future.

Empty Lines

2006-11-11T16:02:00.000-08:00

Lady Philosophy

2006-10-26T21:42:00.000-07:00

I finished Consolation of Philosophy yesterday. It is an incredibly eloquent book and presents many ideas to ponder and discuss with others. One of the main themes throughout this book is the futility of worldly fame and wealth. Mankind struggles to attain these worldly pleasures, but individuals must recognize that these ideas and goals are hollow and cannot bring fulfillment. However I believe Lady Philosophy tells it best when she declares to Boethius:
"Alas, what wretched ignorance leads
Mankind on paths astray!
Who looks on spreading boughs for gold,
On vines for jewels gay?
What man sets nets on mountain-tops
For feasts of rich sea food?
What huntsman has the wild goat
Upon the sea pursued?
The very ocean's depths men know
Beaneath the waves on high;
They know which strand is rich with pearls,
Which shores with purple dye;
They know the bays for tender fish,
For shellfish where to try.
But in their blindness they do not know
Where lies the good they seek:
That which is higher than the sky
On earth below they seek.
What can I wish you foolish men?
Wealth and fame pursue,
And when great toil wins false reward,
Then may you see the true!"

May Christ allow us to see the truth in Him.

Blood Red

2006-10-22T20:32:00.000-07:00

Upon the advice of a friend, I have decided to post some of my poetry. I don't believe it to be exceptionally brilliant but feel free to give me your opinions. : )

The soft feather like a spark aflame within her bright silken hair,
Creates a luminous aura about her head,
The gay spark’s color made with Divine care
Flowing blood red.
Her sweet and gentle laughter alights and flies above in the sky
As she finds the lovely roses in their soft bed,
In the gentle breeze their petals all cry
Flowing blood red.
As a keen nymph in the forest she utters a beautiful song
She listens to the brook and hears all that it’s said,
Its rust moss is breaking out to prolong
Flowing blood red.
Once she’s away from the celestial essence of the forest
The bleak gray town around her appears to be dead,
Her dress is a brushstroke that’s Heaven blessed
Flowing blood red.
The earth beneath her sinks and then bounces up with each new small step
The tough and barren soil of New England she treads,
Rain comes and melts the terra cotta earth
Flowing blood red.
The radiant colors dance in the darkened sky above the town
As the ink like rain in her light clothing embed,
The color is gushing out of her gown
Flowing blood red.
The drops of rain fall from her wet hair like diamonds from the deep earth
But land in the puddles like light pebbles instead,
Giving the clay earth’s small rivers new birth
Flowing blood red.
The rain begins to slowly stop and then the black night sky is clear
She dances on the flame hued leaves the trees have shed,
They continue falling like water clear
Flowing blood red.
The long day has come to an end and she swings open wide the door
Quick is she to don a nightgown and day dress shed,
Leaving a long scarlet trail on the floor
Flowing blood red.
When her mother sings her to sleep she catches a glint of gold
From the ornament on her bosom she’s reread,
‘A’ letter on her bosom burning bold
Flowing blood red.

sigh

2006-10-14T19:20:00.000-07:00

I spend almost all day reading. By late afternoon, my mind was getting tired and my mind wandered off as I began to procrastinate (not such a great thing). My eye immediately leapt to my bookshelf where I picked up a copy of one of my favorite books. It was Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. May I say that if you have not had the chance to read this book, please do so. Not only does it give you lots to think about but it is beautifully written. In short, it is about a future where it is illegal for citizens to read books and teaches the people to believe that books are unhealthy for the mind. Thus, firefighters no longer work to put fires out, but instead hunt for the books that people hide and systematically burn them. The story circulates around one particular firefighter named Guy Montag. He grapples with all the ideas that the government has indoctrinated him with. Montag finally discovers the beauty of reading and the freedom it affords to human beings. Once the government discovers that he has been secretly reading and hoarding books, he is forced to run for his life into the wood where he meets up with "The Book People," a band of citizens who have escaped the city and have memorized books. I find it very interesting that Bradbury chooses to have Montag memorize Ecclesiastes and Revelations... This book really gives you so much to think about. I mean, I can't even imagine a world without books, can you? It is such a frightening thought.
p.s. I don't necessarily reccomend the 1960's film adaptation of the book. It is done in traditional 60's styles (gotta love the furniture!) However, the play version (also written by Bradbury) is very good. And hopefully the new film version which comes out in February of next year will be good!

So Amazing.....

2006-10-11T18:26:00.000-07:00

Two of my good friends, Steeny and Sarah created this smacking awesome comic the other week. May your sides split.

Hello All!

2006-10-07T16:20:00.000-07:00

I acquired my blog last week but I've been busy and thus I have not been able to post. It's hard to know where to begin and what to say, so be prepared for my nonsensical ravings, contemplations, quotes and funny or interesting photographs...Hope you enjoy!

Quote of the Blog

2006-10-03T15:12:00.000-07:00

"In western lands beneath the Sun the flowers may rise in Spring,
the trees may bud, the waters run, the merry finches sing.
Or there maybe 'tis cloudless night and swaying beeches bear
the Elven-stars as jewels white, amid their branching hair.
Though here at journey's end I lie in darkness buried deep,
beyond all towers strong and high, beyond all moutains steep,
above all shadows rides the Sun, and Stars for ever dwell:
I will not say the Day is done, nor bid the Stars farewell."
--Samwise Gamgee