Etta James rocks my socks

I started to paint again.
However...this was weeks ago. I haven't picked up a brush since.
A pen is something of a foreign object to me as well these days.

I like rap. I said it. Today for the first time in a long while, I listened to the radio. Some song about an elevator came on...I freaked out, cranked my volume, upped that bass, dropped the windows, and rocked it out like a rock star. Probably the greatest feeling I've had in a long time...Until the SUV next to me looked at me like I was a bright pink Poodle.

I feel that society tells us to believe many things that we shouldn't. Among them (there are MANY-I could rant about society for hours) are simple cliche or 'corny' little things. These simple 'corny' things that show us how delightful life can be. I have flowers in my room. Today I have flowers in my room. When the windows were open and the bleakest amount of sunlight bleed through the curtains it created this beautiful little picture. I found delight in this. Very simple, but literally, it shaped the mood for the rest of my day.

I want a dog. Our neighbors have a dog and we have been offered to walk him if we desire. I desire. I desire very badly.

Bach's Double Concerto in D Minor for two Violins will forever and always be a favorite of mine.

The little boy I nanny for today asked me again when the girl with the glasses was coming back. I guess he didn't understand our conversation that we had last (see previous blogs for story).

I found a job for this summer. I'm so so so thrilled and feel really blessed about it. On top of that, it's something that I've really really thought about doing as a professional career.
However, I still can't really see myself doing anything but opening a dance studio...we'll see. We all know how my life throws curve balls.

The show is over. So fantastic to be back on stage. Words cannot express the love I have. After closing night my dad asked me "Do you feel at home up there?". "I do dad, I really do"..."I can tell babe, I can tell".
I can't tell you how much that means to me. Gosh I love him.

Sonnet of the Night

Soneto De La Noche

When I die I want your hands upon my eyes.
I want the light and the wheat of your beloved hands to pass the freshness over me one more time.
I want to feel the gentleness that changed my destiny.
I want you live while I wait for you asleep.
I want your ears to still hear the wind.
I want you to smell the scent of the sea we both loved and to continue walking on the sand we both walked on.
I want all that I love to keep on living and you whom I loved and sang above all things to keep flowering in full bloom so that you can touch all that my love provides you so that my shawdo may pass through your hair; So that all may know the reason for my song.

Beautiful.
It's been weeks...and this song still feeds parts of my soul. Listen to it. Take it in. Meddle in it. Ponder it. Do whatever...I just ask that if not this piece of poetry, you find something that brings light into your world.

For Tonight

I had a realization today. Each day I have a favorite song. Perhaps a...theme song? ...No. Never mind, just a song. A favorite song each day that is constantly on repeat in my head. I do not purposefully choose these songs, they just sort of happen. However, it is still a nice little blessing constantly replaying all day for me.

Today: What If You by: Joshua Radin.
Favorite parts of this song: Harmony split for: "Can't stay in one place" / "felt like I belong" / "moonlight". Beautiful.




I apologize for the double post today.
I can't talk. So I blog instead.

my body hates me

I'm in bed looking around my room and this is what I see:

Midol
Musinex
Ibuprofin
Elderberry
Sudafed
Airborne
Advil
Cimetidine
Bags of cough drops (most are empty)

...if someone were to come in right now, see me passed out on my bed, candles lit everywhere-I'm positive they would think I am a drug addict.

Tim's House

http://youtube.com/watch?v=lsiF2cjLTa4

I feel that I am constantly writing about music; Whether it be my own or about someone else's music. I also feel that writing should be about interesting things that fuel your day to day actions or thoughts that are constantly rolling around in that funny looking thing we call a brain (which medical research shows that we have only discovered and actually understand very little of the brain...).

Kate Walsh is not apart of my life every waking moment, but her music does spread a ridiculous silly smile across my face when I listen to her. This short documentary about her tour is just interesting and I really really enjoyed it. If you don't watch it, I don't really don't care.

However, I do hope that you have something you're passionate about. Something that 'fuels' you, drives you, stirs your thoughts. Your brain is something that shouldn't be wasted. Just because we don't understand it doesn't mean we shouldn't fill it to the 'capacity' level that we set. Whether it be music, Hemingway, hikes through the Konza, painting, children, fishing, missions, teaching, dates with friends, or quiet times by yourself. It amazes me how people during this age find 'things' to dwell over. Things. Just things that dwindle their time away. There is no learning, thinking, living involved. Just lapsing time. It bothers me. My heart truly breaks over the wasted things in our life that we do. I am guilty of obsessing over 'things' as well...but I realize when I am guilty of it.

Someone just opened the door for a women with her hands full of her busy life.
Indiscriminate act of kindness.

"Somehow I lost myself in the insults they hurled...How can you see past me as I am?...Consider it an indiscriminate act of kindness..."--Foy Vance

Listening to: The entire Brandi Carlile 'My Song' Album.

Instant way to my heart: Sonic strawberry slush with extra real strawberries, pink tulips wrapped in brown string, knock knock jokes.

I don't have to work at any of my jobs for a while. I'm jazzed about it. Naps. Can't wait. Dance recital was this past Saturday-so cute and the show is this week and next and it so happens that I have shows on the days that I work-vocal rest, nice.
Today, I discovered that the little boy I nanny for thinks I am two different people. After a pretty big argument of telling him not throw cereal at his sisters face and laughing about it-"I like the other girl." "What other girl?" "The one with the glasses." "What?" "You know, the one with the glaaaaasses". (Dig through my purse...found them-put on my glasses). "Sean..." He turns around with a look of horror on his face "HEY! WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?!?!" This is also the child who told me that I don't pray right and we always have to redo it (they're a very very very VERY strong catholic family of eight...and I'm not Catholic. So not doing the sign of the cross always messes him up too. I always laugh and that just doesn't help).

My reading list for books is starting to become very long and I don't think it's even humanly possible to read them all before...well before it becomes even longer.

I hate the words get and got. Find another word to use. If it is the only possible word that fits...then fine. The same with 'deep'. "Wow, that's so deep". No. Not possible. Deep is used when you don't understand something. Again, please find another word. "His intellectual depth is so far beyond my comprehension that I find it entrancing and fascinating". You could say that. That would be fine. THEN, we understand what you mean.

My sonic bev strawberry slush with extra real strawberries is gone. Oh bother.

Completely

My heart is racing.
This springtime wind is blowing way too hard and way to fast at 12:30am.
I feel like there should be a tornado outside or something-oh gosh, just kidding, I hope there isn't anything like that going on. I love them, but hate them at the same time. It's a weird and complicated relationship-I know.

I don't like that when I click to 'next blog' it's always in a different language.
I don't like that there is that option either "next blog", the options would be endless. If you had an addiction problem due to boredom...blogging is not a good idea.

Today's artist (this weeks artist): Pedro The Lion.

Personal Side-note: I am learning a lot about myself lately. Being comfortable, happy, and just not as stressed is starting to become a regular thing. I like it. Things are coming into place and it's wonderful.

The show opens next week. I knew this before...but it just kind of sank in today when I was thinking about it...Ah, yeah. When I was in seventh grade I remember asking my mom if I could have permission to say "crap". She said "only in really awful situations, and not around your granddad" "ok, thanks mom!" Thanks indeed-CRAAAAAAP!. That's all I really have to say about that.

Gosh, this wind is sooo frightening. I want to sleep, but scared of turning out the light. Isn't that ridiculous? I know. I can't help it. I can't fall asleep unless I feel at least a little bit at peace. - I'll listen to Pedro.

My love will keep.

Current most favorite thing to do in the world right now:
listen to "Soneto De La Noche" with my eyes closed. Not a new song. Just a new favorite song. It just kind of clicked today that 'wow, this is absolutely beautiful in every way possible'.

I wish I were just sitting in the middle of a vast open space full of honey suckle and grass doing nothing but listening to this song while the breeze would blow sweet nothings through the field. Perfect.
Kind of like Pocahontas...but not really.

Whenever a song by Adrienne Young and Little Sadie comes on, my heart flutters a bit. I feel like a little girl. I think this is because my dad and I always sing these songs. I miss him. The memories of us will forever be tied to these songs: Me sitting on the piano bench with him in his chair, guitar in hand, harmonica glued to his neck. "haha, Is that too high for you, maybe..." "No, nope that's good dad. Any lower and my adams apple might start to form. Thanks though".



...As crazy as it sounds and as much as I have serious plans to end up in Chicago, New York, Portland, or somewhere in the UK-I love living in Kansas.
I definitely love my roots and am really very proud of them...or as my dad would say 'ruts'.

April

Summer is coming.
Believe it or not, it is.
The weather lies-it always does.
When this happens, I need to do something productive.
Like find another job; one is not enough/it only lasts during June.

New things are going to happen.
I can feel it in my bones.
The weather will change.
Aspects of my life will change.
I am hopeful. Hopeful and very very excited.

...I'm listening to Christmas music right now.
But still hopeful.

"When I was your age"

I've started to paint again.
I love when you don't do something for a while and then start back up again. It's like doing it again for the first time. So refreshing. Like spring. I wish it were here. I want to paint outside, read outside, sing outside, BE outside.

"What a man desires is unfailing love"-Proverbs 19:22 ; I've been thinking a lot about this today. Just how it shapes my life and what the word 'desire' really means to me and also how it encompasses so many things-how what we think our desires may be are usually just a substitute for what our real desire is. Why? So many reasons.
Maybe, I don't know, my thought process has only just begun on this topic.

There's something about stories being told by those that have lived it and actually experienced what we yearn to keep alive for years to come that is just so remarkable. I find it to be compared to the excitement of a thirteen year old with her gossip...but I find myself to become almost more excited than that when I am given the opportunity to hear a story, a personal story, of someone and the situation they've been through in the past.
There were two women, about the age of seventy-eight or so, that came into the building where I was studying today. "Do you remember when they used to play basketball in here?" "I do, and Tommy and Sue...you know, I don't know how they ever played in here." Obviously friends as well as Alum, their chatter amongst themselves was actually that of a thirteen year old year-pillow talk from the past. I wanted so badly to ask them to tell me a story about life here forty years ago-however rude that might be, I didn't care. Watching them stare into the glass at the medals and trophies , I could see the memories from long ago spring into existence in their minds and I wanted nothing more than to be apart of them.

Song for today:"Drown out" The Swell Season
Website for today: http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://home.att.net/~boomers.fifties.teenmag/1950kitchen-grandparent.jpg&imgrefurl=http://home.att.net/~boomers.fifties.teenmag/photos_1950s.html&h=295&w=300&sz=20&hl=en&start=46&um=1&tbnid=xj4IKVOYSPTUeM:&tbnh=114&tbnw=116&prev=/images%3Fq%3D1950%2527s%2B%26start%3D40%26ndsp%3D20%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-US:official%26sa%3DN