tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60805331888335387432024-03-12T21:35:46.882-07:00A.A. FouchUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080533188833538743.post-3206914694524132452022-10-13T12:00:00.004-07:002022-10-13T12:00:33.305-07:00The Academia Nut | The Fairytale as a Developing Personality: A Metaphoric Criticism of Disney’s Sleeping Beauty <p><br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQEwO3BVJw6Quu6f4pQvbWANnPGX5IrCRXfGOM7Jf2O-9aNKUKTvnYcjtRtRLmw0sOtbfteFQVDPL9y-oiOHyQbLdv_76sYfsMHI6gucEpIYornA0WJqEN1rO0S1jWWOaBPoBs0m1iN1YnITDHEN60TupS9bqgHM-cdaRj-IiWPAsoj7IuqFMe_TZd/s983/58347FBF-E45B-4862-A9D1-76B3363B369F.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="983" data-original-width="653" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQEwO3BVJw6Quu6f4pQvbWANnPGX5IrCRXfGOM7Jf2O-9aNKUKTvnYcjtRtRLmw0sOtbfteFQVDPL9y-oiOHyQbLdv_76sYfsMHI6gucEpIYornA0WJqEN1rO0S1jWWOaBPoBs0m1iN1YnITDHEN60TupS9bqgHM-cdaRj-IiWPAsoj7IuqFMe_TZd/w266-h400/58347FBF-E45B-4862-A9D1-76B3363B369F.jpeg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Fairytales have the power to tell us who we are and where we are going, making them powerful metaphors of individual journeys and personalities. In her book </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rhetorical Criticism</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, Sonja K. Foss writes, “When metaphor is seen as a way of knowing the world, it plays a particular role in argumentation. Metaphor does not simply provide support for an argument; instead, the structure of the metaphor itself argues” (Foss 288). When understood as metaphors that represent individuals, fairytales as structures make arguments and unfold roadmaps of life. These arguments and roadmaps identify personalities, show the shadow of this personality, and provide insight on how to overcome the shadow self.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Perhaps the simplest of the Disney fairytale collection is the 1959 film “Sleeping Beauty. The simplicity of this film and its archetypal characters encourage viewers to look at “Sleeping Beauty” as more of a parable and less of a narrative. In the film, there are many layers of verbal and visual metaphors in the forms of “substitution,” “fusion,” and “juxtaposition” to help viewers understand the larger metaphor of one individual being or the developing personality (Foss 291). The three main vehicles in this story are Aurora, Maleficent and Prince Phillip, who metaphorically represent the tenors of beauty, the shadow-self, and courage.</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration-skip: none; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Establishing the Developing Personality </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The film opens with a celebration of the birth of Aurora. She and the young Prince Phillip of the nearby kingdom are betrothed to ensure peace and unity between the two royal families. Aurora is blessed by the good fairies Flora and Fauna with the gifts of beauty and song but just as the third fairy, Merryweather, is about to bless Aurora, she is interrupted by the evil and jealous fairy, Maleficent. Angered by the fact that she has been excluded from the celebration, Maleficent curses Aurora to die on her sixteenth birthday by pricking her finger on an enchanted spinning wheel. As her blessing, Merryweather alters Maleficent's curse, changing Aurora’s death to sleep until true love’s kiss wakes her. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The film makes no qualms about establishing the characters immediately and giving us strong visual metaphors. Baby Aurora’s face is never represented as an actual child in the scene. Instead, we see spectral visualizations of her as an older form when the fairies bless her, and then a more concrete form when Maleficent curses her (00.07.14, 00.09.12). This demonstrates that she is more than an actual child, representing beauty itself. There is a great deal of attention paid to her transformation and development indicating that while she is beauty, she is a developing personality which can be spoiled, maimed, or killed. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Maleficent is pictured as a distortion of beauty or the shadow-self of Aurora. Foss writes that many visual metaphors can be “...characterized by juxtaposition, in which the source and target are juxtaposed but remain visually separate” (Foss 291). In promotional material, Aurora and Maleficent are often juxtapositioned, pictured back to back or at least with both of their faces entirely visible, creating a strong metaphor for Aurora’s shadow-self. Maleficent's regal attire, voice, and composure are all forms of beauty, even resembling the basic facial structure of Aurora (00.08.45). Yet, her sharp face, exaggerated mouth and eyes, devilish horns, and the poisonous green light around her indicates that she is a malady to beauty, or malicious, hence her name “Maleficent.” The curse of the “spinning wheel” is a metaphor for not merely physical death, but the death of ignorance. When she pricks her finger, Aurora must face Maleficent’s evil and stop living in the ignorance of youth. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Prince Phillip here is seen as a neutral, undeveloped character represented as a young child, therefore we do not yet know what he represents to the larger story. However, his betrothal to Aurora to bring peace between kingdoms indicates and foreshadows that good will come from their union. He is seen with a red feather in his cap which becomes an important plot device later on (00.04.27). While the relationship between Aurora and Philip has yet to unfold, it is noted as something paramount in the first scene. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration-skip: none; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Aurora and Philip’s Encounter </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Once Maleficent leaves the castle, the three fairies conspire with the King to hide baby Aurora from the evil fairy until the time of her sixteenth birthday has passed, setting her free from the curse. Aurora, called Rose to protect her identity, is raised in a humble cottage by the three fairies who disguise themselves as humans. Rose is beautiful, beloved, and makes friends with all the creatures she meets near the cottage. On her sixteenth birthday, Prince Phillip rides near the cottage and hears her singing. Captivated by her beautiful voice, he finds her and they have a brief exchange in a dance, both feeling that they know one another. Aurora, who has been told not to talk to strangers, abruptly leaves the prince, not knowing who he is. Prince Phillip determines to find Aurora and marry her. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Aurora is pictured wearing an earthen tone dress with a black bodice (00.30.58). This neutral color of clothing indicates an undecided nature. She has yet to make any important life decisions and yet to encounter Maleficent’s curse. While Philip wears similar earthen colors, he is cloaked in a bright, decisive red (00.24.19). This color shows an awareness of his true, royal self, and is also often used to represent courage, a characteristic which he demonstrates later in the film. For a moment, Aurora plays with the cloak and wraps it around herself, but never fully wears it (00.28.30). While Maleficent is Aurora’s shadow-self, Philip represents the element which Aurora (or the developing personality) needs to defeat the shadow-self and to be decisively whole in beauty and courage. In the scene leading up to their dance, Aurora crosses a bridge while singing, and the Prince is seen beneath her at a distance, entranced by the beauty of her voice (00.24.17). This juxtaposition shows their innate need and desire for one another. Foss writes that some metaphors “...involve fusion, in which the tenor and the vehicle are integrated…” (Foss 291). When Philip and Aurora dance, they move as one “fused” unit within a still frame, and their reflection is seen in the pond they dance next to, encouraging their metaphor of wholeness and the true reflection of the other, unlike Maleficent who is the shadow, not the reflection (00.31.54). </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration-skip: none; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Curse of the Spinning Wheel</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The fairies, wanting to make Aurora’s birthday a special one, decide to use magic, and as a result are discovered by Maleficent’s bird who acts as her spy. Meanwhile, the royal families are preparing for Aurora’s return home and her arranged marriage. When Aurora tells the fairies of meeting a handsome young man, they inform her that she is the Princess and is already betrothed to the Prince. While Aurora is terribly upset, she obeys. The fairies take her to the castle where they seclude her away until the wedding ceremony can begin. Maleficent, aware of Aurora’s hiding place, finds her and bewitches her to prick her finger on a spinning wheel. Aurora falls into a deep sleep, and the fairies place the entire castle under a sleeping spell with her until Maleficent can be overcome. Soon after, they discover that Aurora’s handsome stranger and Prince Phillip are one and the same, and set out to look for him to break the spell. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">While Prince Phillip and Aurora are seen in a type of fusion in their dancing scene, Aurora and Maleficent are shown in another type of fusion. During the scene in which Maleficent betwitches Aurora, Maleficent’s voice is audible and her poisonous green light overwhelms Aurora, but she does not show her full form beside Aurora until she is asleep (00.49.00). Even when Aurora is asleep, her face is not shown while Maleficent is in the frame (00.51.24). Foss calls these types of metaphors “...substitution, ones in which either the tenor or the vehicle is substituted for the other” (Foss 291). Maleficent’s face and Aurora’s face cannot be shown in the same frame since they are one and the same person in the story of a developing personality. Having pricked her finger on the spinning wheel, Aurora, or beauty, loses the ignorance of evil and falls under the power of the shadow-self which requires the element of courage found in the Prince. The good fairys sleeping spell over the rest of the kingdom is a juxtapositioned metaphor to Maleficent’s curse, showing us the relationship of life to beauty. When beauty goes away or “falls asleep,” the entire kingdom must be enchanted into a type of preservation of the memory of living, breathing beauty. This preservation of living beauty through hibernation offers hope and restoration; what Maleficent cursed to death is only sleeping, waiting to be roused.</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration-skip: none; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Confrontation of the Shadow-Self and Resolution </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Not knowing the whereabouts of his Aurora, Prince Phillip seeks after her, only to be found by Maleficent and locked in her dungeon. The good fairies realize that Phillip has been captured, finding his red cap-feather, and set out to free him. They break his chains and give him the Sword of Truth and a Shield of Virtue to help defeat Maleficent. When Maleficent’s gargoyles cannot stop the Prince from escaping, she places a barrier of thorns between the Prince and the castle, and turns herself into a dragon to kill the Prince. The Prince pierces Maleficent in the heart with the Sword of Truth, slaying her. Now free, the Prince runs to the castle and kisses Aurora, awakening her and the entire kingdom. The Prince and Aurora are married, ending the narrative with both retribution and reconciliation. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Prince Philip, a representation of courage, is the only one who has not fallen under the fairy’s sleeping spell since he was seeking the beauty of Aurora. As courage, Phillip can handle the “Sword of Truth” and uphold the “Shield of Virtue” to defend beauty and to conquer the shadow-self (01.05.18). Unlike the substitutionary metaphor with Aurora and Maleficent, Philip is a new element (courage) that is not a representation or distortion of beauty. Therefore, he can be juxtaposed to Maleficent in her most hideous form, the dragon, and can be seen fighting her in the same frame (01.10.02). The Prince dons his red cloak for the entire fight, bright and vivacious against Maleficent’s bruised colors of purple, black, and green. When he kills Maleficent, he drives the Sword of Truth into her heart, and red blood is seen coming from her fatal wound, signifying courage’s triumph over evil (01.10.17). When he returns to the castle to awaken Aurora, he is pictured only in red, and Aurora’s color changes from poisonous green to a rosey hue (01.11.22). Later, when he and Aurora are married, red becomes a part of his actual attire, not just his cloak (01.13.02). These color changes signify the staying power and decisiveness of his courage which enables Aurora to awaken back into beauty as a fully developed personality united to courage.</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration-skip: none; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Conclusion </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Using fairytales as metaphors rather than stories with stand-alone characters creates a holistic understanding of someone’s internal narrative. This reading of fairytales has the potential to help people recognize the positive and detrimental characteristics within themselves, and provide them a roadmap to a more successful narrative ending. We all long for happily ever after, but we cannot be dependent on finding the “prince” or “princess” as an external means to rescue our internal narrative. In order to experience peace and restoration of the soul, we must recognize that the first and most important battle to face is with our shadow-self, and cannot be battled anywhere but our own soul. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Works Cited</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 28pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Foss, Sonja K. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rhetorical Criticism: Exploration and Practice</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Waveland Press, 2018. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 28pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Disney, Walt. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sleeping Beauty</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. 1959. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" />A.A. Fouchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16245227731419430548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080533188833538743.post-63009850103688495802022-09-12T21:20:00.006-07:002022-09-13T22:25:49.113-07:00The Academia Nut | Literature, Snobbery, and Communication <span id="docs-internal-guid-6d52a19a-7fff-59a9-b885-578aaf684245"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="border: none; display: inline-block; height: 227px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; overflow: hidden; width: 400px;"><img height="227" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/Chct5bJwbuKI0BNaITIz0v0lDJf4bb21TPJRv6dc2xbvqOo6gSCXVE5GqNB0iYlNj6yaV6xAlwoGfnoxRYJZXXG522WrUc9lktrqzlEGvwtbNzoxMdrRNPU6uinj1FTSY1b1u-zT52eiRjcLCU2QkfUhhzVW_5U12awdnwWE32fXzOTxxe-JDJh_=w400-h227" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px;" width="400" /></span></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin: 0pt 11pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 11pt; margin-right: 11pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin: 0pt 11pt;"><br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Literature and poetry sadly have a reputation for being snobbish. However, a deep study of these things should leave us shaky and tearful with understanding and gratitude. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I always thought I was supposed to be a writer. When I was young, I felt that I had a gift with words, but this gift was tainted by my grubby, prideful little hands. I derived pleasure from my work being “above average.” </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My identity was wrapped up in being better than others.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> We all make this fatal error at many points in our lives—some of us have pride woven into our very character. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As I got older, I had a few key moments of revelation that put me in my place. I realized that no matter how much I learned, I would never even be able to know all the things contained in one library, let alone all the knowledge centers of the world. I saw that no matter how good my writing was, there would always be someone better and that even if I became well-known one day, most people would eventually forget me. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I understood that in all of space and time, I was a very small part of a huge tapestry, an “extra” or minor character in most others lives. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"...there is no burden for the artist to be perfectly original."</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Then I wondered, </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Why the heck should I write?”</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> It was a good question. Fame was superfluous. It wasn’t likely that I had anything to say that hadn’t already been said. Then I saw another area of pride. I had wanted to be original. But there is no burden for the artist to be perfectly original. We are merely playing telephone with our ancestors, passing down old ideas in modern language. I had wanted to stand out as a singular point, alienating myself from my fellow man. Unfortunately, my pride had made me unloving and unreachable. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I saw that </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">God loved people with something more passionate than mere niceness</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. It went much deeper than that. I wanted to learn to love people. I wanted to understand them and meet them where they were at. As a child, I studied animals out of a great love for the creatures. I began to study humans, not with clinical coldness or humanistic worship, but with a tender love that only God can give us for one another. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have been privileged to work with children professionally for over 10 years and prior to that began raising my siblings at the age of 12. I became fascinated with our need for and struggle with language. I watched children cry, unable to form words. I saw them make sounds again and again until I clapped my hands when they made the right one. I saw them choose to abandon words for hitting and pushing. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There was great joy and frustration with the amazing gift of language—a desperation for communication. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">While wrestling with the seemingly frivolous and unstable career of writing, I began to see that </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">the shrinking vocabulary of our culture affected our ability to think and feel certain emotions. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I had been raised with poetry and literature that deepened my knowledge of humanity as a whole and gave me access to many “fine,” noble emotions that my peers had not yet experienced. These young people were like frustrated toddlers. They were meant to be adults and yet were relegated to shallow words and emotions that couldn’t fit the eternal expanse of the human soul.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I also began researching the tragic tales of feral children raised with little to no human interaction.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> These children were wild and had no language at all. They had difficulty learning empathy and were often terribly frightened or frustrated. Not only did they not have language, they did not have human contact—assuring presence, hugs, non-verbal communication, the feeling of being protected, known, or understood. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">They were abandoned and lost souls, standing on a line between human and animal nature.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So many modern people are very nearly feral."</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So many modern people are very nearly feral. Humans have been told that they are merely animals with no souls and that there is no life after death—no meaning for existence, and no consequence for action. They have had little language given to them. They have grown up without much safe, loving, and meaningful connection.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Because of a snobbish attitude towards our “idiotic” and “unscientific” ancestors, they are cut off from the pinnacle of communication—ancient wisdom and the study of God.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I began to understand how writers from the past had shaped our modern culture. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ideas from people such as Sigmund Freud, Karl Marx, and Friedrich Nietzsche had trickled down from the mountain of academia, filtering into our education, our world views, and deeply affecting our daily lives.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Authors, film writers, and songwriters greatly influence our thoughts. Many of their views have disenchanted our world, coloring it in various shades of grey. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Our communication has suffered. Our attention spans have shrunk. We are left with short, terse sentences measured out in 250-word tweets. We heap insult upon insult, thinking that if we are just louder than the other side we can beat them into submission. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Difference of any kind has become a terrible threat, and no wonder</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">—we have become wild and feral, relying on visual cues rather than intellectual conversation to tell us what is safe. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But why is communication important? Why is feral humanity a tragic thing? The answer to that is this—</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">we are designed for friendship and love with God and man. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We are mortals meant to be married to the Immortal God who loves us deeply. But that love cannot be understood, cannot be experienced, unless it is communicated. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When we teach children to speak and give them language and art that expand their capacity to feel deeply, we are giving them the tools they need to communicate with the lover of their souls—God himself. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When we speak, or read, or watch things or do anything just to get head knowledge, we can become filled with pride and arrogance which cuts us off from one another and from God. We begin, as I did when I was young, to alienate ourselves from God and other humans because we think we know better or that we are special. But this “specialness” really only creates a lonely little hell for ourselves. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"All forms of communication should lead us to communicating with the God who made us for a relationship with him."</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When we understand the tragedy of miscommunication or the lack of communication, we can dive into language of all kinds—literature, poetry, dance, music, art—and see it for the amazing gift that it is! All forms of communication should lead us to communicating with the God who made us for a relationship with him. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The whole point of existence is to love God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> We can do this better and more deeply with more words on earth, but we must also remember that words will not always be necessary when we are immortals before God. Music will likely be more essential than books for it can be enjoyed wordlessly. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I write now, I thank God that </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">it is not about myself, nor snobbery! </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As I write, He teaches me so many things! Literature should not be about knowing more just to be better than someone else. No! Let the knowledge of human existence pierce your heart and thank God that you have words to teach you ideas and emotions that allow you to have friendship with God and man. Be grateful that you are not completely lost and feral, and be patient and loving as you teach and encourage those around you to communicate with each other and with God. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There are three beautiful films I love that illustrate this kind of loving communication. “The Miracle Worker” is the story of Helen Keller, who was both deaf and blind. She was taught sign language and speech by her devoted teacher.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin: 0pt 11pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="border: none; display: inline-block; height: 320px; overflow: hidden; width: 213px;"><img height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/qCMi8n7tM7O_W6xxYPlE90au2lLF127X1mbj7OtZVozqB3Oid7vQesMGZBkGB0FJlJa3ozc2_MWc4aoiGOyfCWeYltNknbRFMnsTpfHVluDrwoU6MRzGcsTjEF9Iyw5Ql6ugStaaMSheE_HoinF3_zCdrg9r3rZkQb747zt0NeBqjVsA4ch5_dR7" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px;" width="213" /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/ZcFTNY60yaA" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Watch trailer </span></a></p><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“The End of the Spear” is a film about a group of missionaries who established communication with a violent tribe of indigenous people after a horrible tragedy.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin: 0pt 11pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="border: none; display: inline-block; height: 320px; overflow: hidden; width: 213px;"><img height="320" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/ec2Jju8ZOUOKNcT5Pj-1VjsaF6cmjLYXu1UqNpbLYnZuHBDdngI6N7pCIPwnqwMJeoZ1-U-xpDw9JL3w9UkQMXkVubg9syCUGxBJ0CiHK6toymxqFE92sX-xXl8ad5Kz9koL0eNBz3LM6nrYqmZl2smYCuhMa4qEu2Wjv9WXM0wZykwOg24aqNPS" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px;" width="213" /></span></span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4pJoSbhtiI&t=8s" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Watch trailer </span></a></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And finally, “The Woman Who Willed a Miracle” is the story of Leslie Lemke, a blind, paralyzed child who was brought home to die but through the love of his adopted mother and the power of music became a great piano player. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This movie is NOWHERE on the internet, so I've provided a video here.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin: 0pt 11pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="border: none; display: inline-block; height: 320px; overflow: hidden; width: 195px;"><img height="320" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/j_r_dMsLheEyczhaVXH4H06izA0U797vlmb5sfOxLDmpM4fXXrhdzf1KEMq9PJRoAv5GU72PYFeC1Fd39Y_7iRj_wvgxKpeyV2hGl0Zbug2sX3JyAkLEdGe3iU4LM5FOdXhu-bveHIV_0oMfVLX9AcgLPtDbpwlH0G69zDx9__uhtriBemM7-0je" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px;" width="195" /></span></span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1jK2oCtf_5XUvMp18TFppCAycs1Z3CZuH/view?usp=sharing" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Watch here</span></a></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"We are mortals, training to be immortal"</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Every moment of the day is structured as a communication between yourself, God, and mankind. Every frustration is an opportunity to strengthen a relationship, either with God or humans. God wants to be in the room with us, to constantly be learning new ways to communicate with Him and rejoicing in His love. Perhaps that is what it means to “pray without ceasing.” </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We are mortals, training to be immortal.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> And one day, billions of years in the future, we will be looking at Jesus and looking at each other, knowing and being known perfectly. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Communication is a funny thing. Once you have communed with one person long enough, you (almost) have no need for language. There comes a time when all you want is to be still and enjoy the other person's presence. You understand them, they understand you—words are not as necessary. Perhaps it was like this before the Fall of Man in Genesis. But this quiet peace can only take place after MANY, MANY communications. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This is the kind of peace we fight for.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> The kind of peace that will exist when the rift between God and man is finally and physically closed.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And that, my loves, is why I write. </span></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080533188833538743.post-26035612447613142772022-06-11T10:08:00.001-07:002022-09-12T21:20:33.045-07:00Who Needs Poetry? <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikIolqHZsDMRoI2QoEWQExgqlHG28K6IvlrokURsadADMF4CBHjhoxs1goKsF7MQZ2pjHhC3Oec2oLLQDGR_DnkS1gaqZHJ3-K4SH-lCL-Dd2BpLp9CuuHxSfA3vHXRvs4ZVfUOiq1DoBPtMMLZBcHg9GQPHjEuR8JtY2RhP9FJLiPWMmxi-_C9FKTPw/s1640/A9ABE086-51C2-4A2A-AFEB-8DC0CFE62F2D.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="924" data-original-width="1640" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikIolqHZsDMRoI2QoEWQExgqlHG28K6IvlrokURsadADMF4CBHjhoxs1goKsF7MQZ2pjHhC3Oec2oLLQDGR_DnkS1gaqZHJ3-K4SH-lCL-Dd2BpLp9CuuHxSfA3vHXRvs4ZVfUOiq1DoBPtMMLZBcHg9GQPHjEuR8JtY2RhP9FJLiPWMmxi-_C9FKTPw/w400-h225/A9ABE086-51C2-4A2A-AFEB-8DC0CFE62F2D.png" width="400" /></a></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p>Most people think they are not poets. I beg to differ. </span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Every person has had a special moment when their soul leaps up and shouts for joy. Every heart has felt the agony of suffering and pain. And every one of us has our own unique perspective on life as it happens. These are the universal ingredients of poetry. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In education, there are the mechanical studies—math, science, and physical education. Then there are the thinking studies—history, language, philosophy, and English. And finally, there are the feeling studies—art, dance, music, and poetry. All of these combine to make a complete person, reaching the body, mind, and soul. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">However, poetry in particular seems to be a neglected study as it contains language, but does not necessarily compute as a “thinking” study but rather a “feeling” study. <b>In a way, it can feel like using math symbols to tell a story—rudimentary and frustrating.</b> </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The mechanical and thinking studies of the world are easier to understand since they attempt to measure and observe the knowable world. For this reason, thinking personality types will always be drawn towards these studies, as feelers will be drawn towards the arts. Neither is better than the other, and <b>each person must have an appropriate balance between both thinking and feeling in order to become fully functional.</b></span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We can think of life like a bike. The thinking studies can teach you what a bike is made of. But they can’t tell you what a bike means. Art, particularly poetry, invites us to get on the bike, have an experience, the. attempt to explain its significance. <b>Poetry taps into the meaning of life and the essence of moments and feelings. </b></span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Poetry is not necessarily something “all new” or “novel.” The best poems are always resonate with the greater human experience. However, they slow us down over moments or ideas we might skip over if we are overly-preoccupied with the mechanical world. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Good poetry does not involve wallowing in personal emotions or griefs, but rather attempts to sync these emotions with the greater human experience, putting them into perspective. </b></span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The heartbreak experienced by the death of a loved one, divorce, or illness is universal, therefore good poetry will unite a suffering soul to the greater knowledge of suffering and attempt to give that suffering perspective and meaning. For Christians, suffering is a byproduct of the fall of man—our willful disobedience to God has created a gaping wound in the universe which we are forever falling into. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Well-being, peace, and joy are also universal, therefore poetry can unite a rejoicing soul to the greater knowledge of joy. For Christians, joy is found when Christ is in every arena of our lives—binding up our wounds, saving us from sin and death, and training our hearts towards God. Joy is not bound to physical circumstances, but rather to the penultimate reality of God. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This is why I believe poetry is so prevalent in the Bible. God rests at the heart of all things—mechanics, thoughts, and feelings all stem from the reality of God’s existence. To be parted from Him is suffering, to be united to Him is joy. <b>He is all that cannot be explained, and yet must be communicated—therefore, poetry exists.</b></span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The human experience is a lonely thing since we have language but often cannot communicate what we really mean to one another. Trapped in our own bodies, minds, and souls, we are limited in our communication. God is truly the only being who knows us intimately, and much of our human suffering is due to the fact that we can be known by Him, but we cannot know Him as deeply as we wish. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Poetry seeks to push the boundaries between man and God and man to man.</b> God speaks to us in poetry, a language beyond language to reach our spirits. When we speak back to Him in poetry and to one another in poetry, we are touching on a reality that is beyond us, as though pushing through a dream that doesn’t quite make sense, attempting to wake up.</span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080533188833538743.post-42431292616614175292021-07-02T09:09:00.001-07:002022-09-12T21:20:44.157-07:00Pause for Poetry | Interview With Christine Stewart <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJTibPVxPuTdOIC4cZrpUmlKPSVQKbhub6WH9fkdYszlVBbi2Eds_rMZlcvovVJqAzh6Mn-H3ysbp2bk0DJMgNdGa6syX339vcGEp6anq6mHH2ydT3SR6yjlAr1JBKFxArwMqsK22whEY_/s2048/P%2526Acover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1356" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJTibPVxPuTdOIC4cZrpUmlKPSVQKbhub6WH9fkdYszlVBbi2Eds_rMZlcvovVJqAzh6Mn-H3ysbp2bk0DJMgNdGa6syX339vcGEp6anq6mHH2ydT3SR6yjlAr1JBKFxArwMqsK22whEY_/w424-h640/P%2526Acover.jpg" width="424" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">Poetry is often overlooked in the modern world, not perhaps because we do not have time, but because poetry defies the rush and busyness that has become a staple of society. We don't linger and we don't repeat, we simply move on to the next thing. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">But poetry demands that, for a few moments, we sit still. For that reason, I am always keeping my eye out for poets who are currently carving memories out of moments. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>A Little About Christine </b></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111;"></span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><i style="font-family: inherit;">By Christine Stewart (from amazon.com)</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i style="font-family: inherit;"><div class="separator" dir="rtl" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjJDCP_0Xnd6koL212d9RA6la_pss5VGbV_eiq1GiKpoaDbCZExbeALJK6fEzz-_2XyNO1v4Hy45Qv_qbNM2fJ0Z1VROuu0M7kBbrz5E-WwrX5mSYrKG3P_vaE3JW7VDXbphj5L5n8zXPV/s2048/CSN_BookCover_Original_BluewordsGreening02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1320" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjJDCP_0Xnd6koL212d9RA6la_pss5VGbV_eiq1GiKpoaDbCZExbeALJK6fEzz-_2XyNO1v4Hy45Qv_qbNM2fJ0Z1VROuu0M7kBbrz5E-WwrX5mSYrKG3P_vaE3JW7VDXbphj5L5n8zXPV/w413-h640/CSN_BookCover_Original_BluewordsGreening02.jpg" width="413" /></a></div></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">Christine Stewart-Nuñez, South Dakota's poet laureate (2019 </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">2023), is the author of four books of poetry, most recently Untrussed (University of New Mexico Press, 2016) and Bluewords Greening (Terrapin Books, 2016), winner of the 2018 Whirling Prize. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">In 2019, the South Dakota Council of Teachers of English named her Author of the Year. As a professor at South Dakota State University, Christine's teaching, creative work, and service have earned accolades, including the Dr. April Brooks Woman of Distinction Award (2020) and the Outstanding Experiential Learning Educator Award (2019). She served on the board of directors for the South Dakota State Poetry Society from 2012-2018 and edited its poetry magazine, Pasque Petals, from 2014-2018. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">She's the founder of the Women Poets Collective, a regional group focused on advancing their writing through peer critique and support. She lives in Brookings with her husband, Brian T. Rex, a professor of architecture, and her two sons.</span></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: right;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Interview</b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="white-space: pre-wrap;">What drew you towards writing/art? </b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My older sister died when I was 11 years old. She was 20. It was sudden and left a crater in my life. I wrote to process that grief and other aspects of my life. (My book of poetry, KEEPING THEM ALIVE, grapples with this subject, too.) After a while, it became a practice others expected me to do, and I began to expect it from myself. But that took years. </span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;">How do you find inspiration or topics for your genre of writing/art? </span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m drawn to certain overarching themes, like epistemology (what do we know, how do we know, and when do we know) and loss, but I wrestle with them through art, nature, and family relationships. In other words, sensory details from my daily life help me express more philosophical thoughts. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>What was your first or favorite childhood memory? </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wow. That’s a tough one. I have a lot of impressions of my grandparents’ homes--scents, sounds, etc. Most of my fuller memories start in kindergarten, which seems late. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>What is a small joy you celebrate often? </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">My sons’ learning new things. My older son has a rare form of epilepsy that tamped down his learning for nearly a decade. For years he was unable to fully use or understand language. (I tackle this strand of my life in my book Bluewords Greening.) Now that the seizures have waned, he’s learning how to have conversations, how to read, how to take better care of himself, how to cook, how to tell jokes, etc. My younger son, nine years younger than his brother, simply soaks information in, which astonishes me. What brings me the greatest joy is how they love and help each other. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>What has been an inspiring piece of art or media you’ve enjoyed lately? </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">I recently bought a piece of art from Susan M. Heggestad, a mixed media artist from Vermillion, South Dakota. I love the way she uses textiles for texture in her work. I regularly practice ekphrasis, and I have an ongoing collaboration with British artist Pauline Aitken. I have ekphrastic poetry in Bluewords Greening as well as its “twin” book, Untrussed. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>What is a fun or interesting experience you’ve appreciated? (either personally or professionally) </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">During the pandemic, I started giving a lot of Zoom workshops and readings. Of course, I prefer face-to-face interactions, but I was shocked about how many more folks could participate online. I live in a rural state, and I know how a newfound appreciation for the way technology can help us connect with each other. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>What is your go-to comfort food, TV show, and book?</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">I really like homemade pizza. I don’t watch a lot of TV, and I don’t often read the same book more than once unless it’s work or writing-related.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>What do you feel is the most significant achievement you’ve made thus far? (Personally or professionally) </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Professionally, I’m very proud of my education (I hold a Ph.D.) and my published work because I didn’t know anyone who had gone to graduate school or published books when I was growing up. My parents are responsible for pushing me toward college; they hoped I could have more choices than they did since they didn’t have college degrees. I’m proud of my tenacity in terms of keeping up my writing practice and sending work out into the world. I know a lot of good writers who have negotiated this path differently. Personally, I’m proud of my family. Parenting is super hard work--the hardest work I’ve experienced. And my kids and marriage are thriving right now, so…. So far, so good.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>If you could give the younger generation one piece of advice, what would that be?</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Own your strengths and yet stay humble. It took me years before I really began to believe in myself and have a strong, confident sense of self. Of course, that doesn’t mean one should be ruled by ego, just that it’s okay to let yourself shine.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>When did something unexpected but good happen to you? </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wow. I have so many answers to this. I try to stay open to serendipity; it’s an important part of living a creative life. In the summer of 1996, soon after I graduated with my undergraduate degree, I got an invitation to interview for a job teaching in Turkey. Despite my plans already in place for graduate school, I said yes to the interview, got the job, and six weeks later I was on a plane to Istanbul.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>What was the last song you listened to? </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Michael Jackson’s Shake Your Body (Down to the Ground). It was the last one on my family’s bike ride playlist yesterday. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><span style="color: #ff00fe;">To purchase a copy of Christine's latest book of poems, <i>The Poet & the Architect, </i>visit her lovely site at</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://www.christinestewartnunez.com/#/the-poet-the-architect/"><b>https://www.christinestewartnunez.com/#/the-poet-the-architect/</b></a></span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Ewkzwh72dcUSdOYUemoqZ0PpZGkNTwvN0N908VEhPMaLekaI-NWjOf3RLMCI4Y30seosRwMDPWfxVLlmUqMPDZ1fXaocqSbA8R7q7z1QxSQB7p_lVVkr-pHMwkcgLJRCbfAo2KrIS1uO/s2048/P%2526Acover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1356" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Ewkzwh72dcUSdOYUemoqZ0PpZGkNTwvN0N908VEhPMaLekaI-NWjOf3RLMCI4Y30seosRwMDPWfxVLlmUqMPDZ1fXaocqSbA8R7q7z1QxSQB7p_lVVkr-pHMwkcgLJRCbfAo2KrIS1uO/s320/P%2526Acover.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Thank you so much to Christine for taking the time to answer my questions!</span></p><div>Until next time, cheers! </div><p>Ashley </p><p><br /></p><p><i>If you or another artist you know would like to be interviewed, drop me a note at aafouchwrites@gmail.com</i></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080533188833538743.post-73265593775056105482021-05-15T17:11:00.051-07:002021-06-20T08:23:34.076-07:00News From a Garden Muse | Interview with Lillian Brummet<p></p><span><span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><blockquote style="border: none; color: black; font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; white-space: normal;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.8; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div></div></blockquote></blockquote><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKIsCXqsbt_oMlSP8p028kFNVB0Tr1ApHAcncPU5bBcxbUbCH77e6kvgDF9XSxuxsgPpcyAa-JK_ZteGG4guPYjHmHWtjUb44uDwvyAGsBY1qNSAa2oGP1uX3yyhItK796b8mXXbc91c0-/s2048/muse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1363" data-original-width="2048" height="383" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKIsCXqsbt_oMlSP8p028kFNVB0Tr1ApHAcncPU5bBcxbUbCH77e6kvgDF9XSxuxsgPpcyAa-JK_ZteGG4guPYjHmHWtjUb44uDwvyAGsBY1qNSAa2oGP1uX3yyhItK796b8mXXbc91c0-/w575-h383/muse.jpg" width="575" /></a></div><br /><b>M</b>eeting fellow creatives is one of the highlights of being an artist. When I came across Lillian Brummet’s work, I was inspired by her lively writing style and her desire to help others find wellness through nature, music, and healthy eating (three of my favorite things!). I was thrilled to connect with Lillian and ask her a few questions, which I hope you enjoy.<p></p><p><br /></p><p><b>A </b>Little About Lillian </p><p>By Lillian Brummet </p><p>Lillian and her husband Dave are the team behind Brummet Media Group, high-fiving cheerfully as they pass each other on the way from checking off one item or other from their long to-do list. After moving to their dream location (in the Kootenay Region of BC, Canada), they have been methodically converting the abused lot over to the little park it has become – and in doing so have gained certification with bee, pollinator and wildlife organizations. Their home, too, has become energy efficient via the many upgrades they have done. Their business includes Dave’s music studio and percussion accessory products and graphic design work as well as numerous award-winning non-fiction books and popular blogs. Today we help them celebrate their latest book release - From One Small Garden, with over 300 delicious, nutritious recipes!</p><p><br /></p><p><b>I</b>nterview:</p><p><b>I saw that you dabble in many different arts, including writing - What drew you towards writing & art?</b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMjrNHW6hi0M1GuXc69JI_Xylk1HobRqibtquPVH2y_RUuk587M3vcGvA26t89NF20pfV1BrWd_XxsRhPLMH8-lMTAtw3MIzZwJkWEGX3704pWF6JGCXxJQL_ueq-oeAhSCGP4PlcsU_Q3/s2048/museg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1363" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMjrNHW6hi0M1GuXc69JI_Xylk1HobRqibtquPVH2y_RUuk587M3vcGvA26t89NF20pfV1BrWd_XxsRhPLMH8-lMTAtw3MIzZwJkWEGX3704pWF6JGCXxJQL_ueq-oeAhSCGP4PlcsU_Q3/w400-h266/museg.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><b><br /></b><p></p><p></p><p style="text-align: left;">Song lyrics helped ease emotions as I matured and that led me toward using poetry as a healing tool. Once that poetry gained recognition, won awards, got published - that encouragement led to more writing. Writing came up several times upon taking a few career assessment tests, however, I didn't think I had enough to offer, that I was good enough, or that I even could do such a thing since I have some dyslexia issues. I wanted to not just write, but to write in such a way that it inspired positive change and as it turned out, people enjoyed the topics I focused on. </p><p>I dabbled in crafts, needlework and cake decoration arts when I was in my 20's, did some sketching here and there since then... a little minor painting and some carvings (which I am anxious to try again). I consider gardening an art as well, painting with plants - creating beautiful landscapes on every square inch of our property. Lol. Another art I have embraced is cooking - using the amazing garden harvests and locally produced food items in this lush valley. I find these artistic endeavours are a way for me to give back to the people around me, to create a little more green space for the environment, a little shade for the pedestrians and a haven for birds, bees, butterflies etc. </p><p>While I am busily playing in the dirt, or doing crafts, I am always working in my head. My lists are ticked, the days are organized, I remember communications I haven't done yet or come up with good responses to interview questions or find the plotline I wish to follow for a short story I'm working on. Before cell phones I could be spotted dashing inside, covered in dirt, looking desperately for a pen before the idea, or poem, faded.</p></span></span></span><div><span><span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><p> </p><p><b>How do you find inspiration or topics for your genre of writing/art?</b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX20FMJ4O31uhRWvptOC75Mi6zp_Subx9aWkQ60qX874yvVL46tdFHc8F1YIQeRfreJEazgm9mLWxG6CZVZqS3b4v5QRuU9F4JG0QZNsWck7ioq4ysS9NEsN0QwT7H6sZ8pR2swGniarPG/s2048/musep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1363" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX20FMJ4O31uhRWvptOC75Mi6zp_Subx9aWkQ60qX874yvVL46tdFHc8F1YIQeRfreJEazgm9mLWxG6CZVZqS3b4v5QRuU9F4JG0QZNsWck7ioq4ysS9NEsN0QwT7H6sZ8pR2swGniarPG/w400-h266/musep.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>The inspiration comes from seeing a real need and knowing a solution that I can put across in a motivating way, empowering people to create the change they want to see in the world. My first book filled a gap I saw between counselors and victims of violence, abuse, or neglect. As a child, I felt the professionals were book-taught but had no real compassion or empathy, or understanding. </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">I felt that by sharing my story through chronological poetry prose there would be the opportunity for victims to feel heard, to have their feelings expressed in a way they could not do for themselves. I wanted to show the path to growing past the pain, towards an understanding of the value of their lives. I hoped, too, that people working in that field would gain some more empathy and understanding. </span></span></span></div><div><br /><span><span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><p>In the 2nd and 3rd books (a series actually) I found a real need for individuals to see waste as a valuable resource, and to realize the value of small daily acts - how this can change the world, improve the environment and ease the burdens on community organizations, simply by seeing waste differently. The 4th project was a collection of both my and Dave's poetry celebrating nature, lamenting negative obstacles, expressing raw grief, and celebrating love. The fifth project is the most recent release - a collection of over 300 delicious, nutritious recipes that embrace garden harvests and reduce waste.</p><p>The 6th is actually a revision of a previously published book: for the Purple Snowflake Marketing - How To Make Your Book Stand Out In A Crowd (2012). We have just now completed this project and will have the revisions uploaded to Amazon in late May (2021). This book was based on our own business and marketing plan that grew and evolved over the 2.5 decades we have been in the writing and media industries. I use it as my personal step-by-step guide for every book or product we release and using the Purple Snowflake Marketing methods, we were able to attain over 40 media appearances between Feb 18 & May 18th 2021. Purple Snowflake Marketing was originally published back in 2012 in an effort to address the many pitfalls and answer the millions of questions that authors must face. </p><p> </p><p><b>What was your first or favourite childhood memory? </b></p><p>My first positive memory... uh... lol ... I had to really think because the younger days weren't super great. I do recall spending time in the forests bordering a farm we once lived on. I found great solace in the forests, it gave me a haven from the mess at home. I fell out of a tree once, knocking the wind out of myself and that really frightened me. </p><p>I was coming out of the forest but didn't want the parent figures to know I was upset or what happened because that definitely wouldn't have positive results. </p><p>So I was getting my crying out fast and as I was passing the field, my friend Sadie the cow came running over the best she could, bawling at me and pressing her face through the fence she caressed me and comforted me. I'll never forget it. My mom was a master gardener and we bonded over that shared love for gardening, sharing laughs and giggles while tending to the gardens - memories I'll always treasure.</p><p> </p><p><b>What is a small joy you celebrate often?</b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj_x4XPR-uPpHF0zYmMApFHsZ6PyjntHyVlfu7agK2ZZrjeWplr3fKsFXZ5ZbZ4L6PltL_A8PqKwEbNxfpyifAd3EvIwu5zi-lwOH8ipfe9LIr8q-4o8ZTZm8DXWwESf6H3iw_8dX7o3Ba/s2048/musek2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1363" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj_x4XPR-uPpHF0zYmMApFHsZ6PyjntHyVlfu7agK2ZZrjeWplr3fKsFXZ5ZbZ4L6PltL_A8PqKwEbNxfpyifAd3EvIwu5zi-lwOH8ipfe9LIr8q-4o8ZTZm8DXWwESf6H3iw_8dX7o3Ba/w400-h266/musek2.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>I celebrate every positive thing that comes along, no matter how small it may seem. New blossoms, joyful dogs, purring kitty blinking in the sun on the deck, watching bees busily being busy, garden harvests, a glass of wine made from our home-grown berries and grapes... sales and discounts that save us money, getting media coverage and having a clean house. As a super-sensitive person, I tend to avoid negativity. Negative people, TV programs or movies, negative books and most news media.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><b>What has been an inspiring piece of art or media you’ve enjoyed lately? </b></p><p>My husband's co-worker has a collection of concerts and live performances that he lent Dave - we've been making our way through this great stack of DVD's and loving it... or being disappointed too. Some of the performances were a little wanting and I think that changes how I view some of the bands now. Some of the performances we say were recorded when the artists were a heck of a lot older than when their hits came out and it can be enlightening to see them now. The talent in this collection is incredible.</p><p> </p><p><b>What do you feel like you are currently learning in your phase of life? </b></p><p>Technology. I often feel overwhelmed by the analytics, SEO, HTML and e-commerce aspects of running a business online. Starting a couple of years ago, I took several small courses, a few self-guided courses, and watched tons of helpful videos... and still feel overwhelmed! Lol This area is just not my forté. So that is where I am at now in the learning curve, I guess. The tough part for me is that once I am very comfortable with something, it changes. </p><p>Technology and e-commerce is changing rapidly and it is daunting sometimes because I don't always feel up to the challenge. Dave is much better at this part of the business, but he is often overworked and can feel overwhelmed at times too with all the new things going on every day. We cannot afford to hire out services in this arena and so, like most authors, we are just doing the best we can.</p><p> </p><p><b>What is a fun or interesting professional experience you’ve appreciated?</b></p>Our cookbook (From One Small Garden - Over 300 Delicious Nutritious Recipes) was released in February and by May we were mentioned, interviewed or featured in 38 different media. The Creston Food Action Coalition decided to use our cookbook for their fundraising efforts, selling copies at the Creston Farmer’s Market. These recent successes validated our dreams to reach our goals and all the effort this involved.</span></span></span></div><div><br /><span><span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><p><b>What is your go-to comfort food, TV show, and book? </b></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk4-S4-8iuVIDvejMlBePi9-V7y2xjwHpgrqdMOPzlp8CZUcnEtsRMSqxM2MTYr28tmG1VzmD43OlmXVVRnB47asiVvold5sNcQ4FBxQTSWld1v6_KrnEg1UL1fzMPYYTooHQ_ppppO4O0/s2048/musel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1363" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk4-S4-8iuVIDvejMlBePi9-V7y2xjwHpgrqdMOPzlp8CZUcnEtsRMSqxM2MTYr28tmG1VzmD43OlmXVVRnB47asiVvold5sNcQ4FBxQTSWld1v6_KrnEg1UL1fzMPYYTooHQ_ppppO4O0/w400-h266/musel.jpg" width="400" /></a></p><p>This last winter I binge-watched every Star Trek-related TV show. It was a lot of fun and I saw more in the series, re: both the writing and space exploration aspects than I had noticed before. My favourite food is fresh-baked bread. 2nd choice is cheese. I really enjoy melons, berries, Greek yogurt, coffee with lots of cream (no sugar), honey and butter on fresh bread, and roasted hazelnuts (from our tree). Tolkien's books are what I would consider comfort books... I've worn out several copies since I discovered them when I was very young.</p><br /><p><b>What do you feel is the most significant achievement you’ve made thus far?</b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4jYJtpOI-ha35ceTAsR51SxC-I_TltEDlAVtt5Uqce2enEHAyWRtxaahegP00410s7nD2caTxYX7WdxokW3GTQN95m1uJXjWmLBBSCvzyihordwi3ykYTC0IxtpReilXy1qLoClldvKWA/s2048/muselo.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1363" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4jYJtpOI-ha35ceTAsR51SxC-I_TltEDlAVtt5Uqce2enEHAyWRtxaahegP00410s7nD2caTxYX7WdxokW3GTQN95m1uJXjWmLBBSCvzyihordwi3ykYTC0IxtpReilXy1qLoClldvKWA/w400-h266/muselo.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>Dave and I met in Kelowna, BC (Canada) some 31 years ago. He saw me in one of the circles of friends we all had back then, asked around about me, watched for a while and then took the plunge. He let me know without question that he was interested and he turned out to be kind and gentle, thoughtful and protective. <p></p><p>I fell deeply for him, which terrified me, and it took him 6-7 months of patient dialogue before I agreed to meet his family, nearly 3 years before we moved in together and then another 7 years before I agreed to be his wife, officially. </p><p>For me, the greatest challenge was communication, feeling secure enough to communicate and also actually communicating. I'm not so great about that, but I continue to learn. My mom was married 5 times (one of those she tried to hide from us and so I don't count it much) and seeing everyone around me on TV, in the neighbourhood, among friends, other family - this all told me that relationships don't work. That's what I was shown.</p><p>Well, 31 years later - I'm deeply in love, always grateful for, and enamoured by our relationship. Of course there are days and moments that can be stressful, emotions rise, or tempers simmer, but these crushing moments always pass and we are always aware that this relationship is precious, so we treat it as such. I have a couple of wonderful women friends (one of whom is a neighbour by chance) and they have helped me laugh at minor frustrations and see things in a kinder way. I think the ability to just share it with a friend can be enough to help a person walk through the uncomfortable moment they are in. If that friend can help you laugh at the situation, see the comedy, and you can feel the empathy emanating from them... well it is so much better. :)</p><p> </p><p><b>If you could give the younger generation one piece of advice, what would that be?</b></p><p>Be patient with the process. Start how you mean to continue. You'll be fine. Feel the fear and do it anyway. Embrace who you are; you are worthy of love.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ZSwz0F09T6QU1GYUAsoiHLJR42-4NZwzqVTv8NMbCIJ2BfG_8zBeZfDrXHV4U4hCGJawzfqzYl_big2pHZSHKlKjlr4xpnb5axQZOPSOGbnYXomnM4eYzK8fg6T8ip1km-z_1oHKf9iG/s2048/musehe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1363" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ZSwz0F09T6QU1GYUAsoiHLJR42-4NZwzqVTv8NMbCIJ2BfG_8zBeZfDrXHV4U4hCGJawzfqzYl_big2pHZSHKlKjlr4xpnb5axQZOPSOGbnYXomnM4eYzK8fg6T8ip1km-z_1oHKf9iG/w400-h266/musehe.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><p><b>When did something unexpected but good happen to you?</b></p><p>We had several unexpected good things happen this year. Our business licence fee was waived as a reward for signing a COVID promise and supplying our clients with a sterile environment, the masks, hand cleanser, etc. The local pet store noticed we were due a huge bag of dog food - via the manufacturer's promotional deal. We discovered we had a huge number of shopper points that we used in March and April to purchase almost free or very reduced-priced items. </p><p>One of Dave's drum students dropped off 2 different kinds of plum branches (large red and large peach colour) for us to try grafting onto our peach tree. If they take, we'll have 6 different tree fruits from 2 different trees. Especially in these dark, depressing and overwhelming times when money is scarce, secure jobs are not available and debts climbing... one has to celebrate every positive moment they can!</p><p> </p><p>Many thanks to Lillian for this wonderful interview! </p><p>Make sure to stop by her website and say hello :) </p><p> </p><p>Visit Lillian & Dave</p><p>Amazon Author Page: https://amazon.com/author/lillianbrummet</p><p>Brummet's Website: http://BrummetMedia.ca</p><p>FaceBook: http://facebook.com/lillian.brummet</p><p>https://consciousdiscussions.blogspot.com/. </p><p>all images via canva</p><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080533188833538743.post-54476480289505762522021-05-05T15:30:00.004-07:002021-06-20T08:37:18.765-07:00Poem | Gossamer Gowns <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU3p39FW4wkdOwM-Gt7hNZnkAnjlM03b4nHIRC325m_xxCUVJnvCeQoGGo0LdrZF3xBQFtaqsniMRlOZSIfruMUBck-T4H2vC_VrxlsXIIhOaIEuJBaAt04FFzWEmusuImR6aAKyZuK0MO/s2048/Untitled+design+%252810%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1229" data-original-width="2048" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU3p39FW4wkdOwM-Gt7hNZnkAnjlM03b4nHIRC325m_xxCUVJnvCeQoGGo0LdrZF3xBQFtaqsniMRlOZSIfruMUBck-T4H2vC_VrxlsXIIhOaIEuJBaAt04FFzWEmusuImR6aAKyZuK0MO/w640-h384/Untitled+design+%252810%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span id="docs-internal-guid-452aa838-7fff-edf7-d1b3-90e0eeaf14ee"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>D</b>ear Class of 2021, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Here is a little poem for you. I hope you are well, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">and I hope you take what you have learned and </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">treat your days with love, wisdom, and enchantment. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Gossamer Gowns </b></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Today </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I heard the leaves</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">that seemed </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">to grieve with me. </span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The past is gone--</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">it is no more.</span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And yet, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">this Moment </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">is the Evermore.</span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Like a child </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have prophesied </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">New life </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">on the Horizon. </span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">May I have the Courage </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">to Meet it, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">To Greet it with a kiss</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">and a Smile </span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Expectantly, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Full of wonder, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Not worry. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="text-align: left;"><i>Photo courtesy of Canva</i></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080533188833538743.post-74486373152402557952021-04-18T08:14:00.012-07:002021-05-15T21:38:04.579-07:00Poem | The Casket is a Door <p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfavCTX4p23NoRuuy_AOZC7UiW86J9INUAnsWywYIR8Zl4_2E0SmKQUFSzHFTsAUmIo7R-WfAxd5s1gwTWSaKqg0M0UgpssxTe-2b-PUs1T8ckHt-RUn7RenONmX4lsqR33udkCBeBmHcn/s1024/Untitled+design.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfavCTX4p23NoRuuy_AOZC7UiW86J9INUAnsWywYIR8Zl4_2E0SmKQUFSzHFTsAUmIo7R-WfAxd5s1gwTWSaKqg0M0UgpssxTe-2b-PUs1T8ckHt-RUn7RenONmX4lsqR33udkCBeBmHcn/w400-h300/Untitled+design.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Within the earth </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I weep</span></div></span><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And silence fills </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">the deep. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I cannot see </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">the sky</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Or smiles passing</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">by. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I ache to simply </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Move, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And come nearer</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">To you. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But in this cage </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I stay,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Tired of the </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Same. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I remember </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Trees</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The rustling of the </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Leaves. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I remember</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Water--</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I was </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Summer’s daughter. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Now I hear your </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Voice,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Saying there is</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A choice:</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">To stay within </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">my earth, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Or rise up from </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The dirt. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I didn’t </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">understand</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When you removed </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Your hand,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That you had </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">buried me</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Because I am</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A seed. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></p><div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">image via canva</span></i></div><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080533188833538743.post-7345011242684873062021-03-27T13:45:00.007-07:002021-06-21T14:30:10.019-07:00Poem | Unwind My Memories <span id="docs-internal-guid-b45ca524-7fff-8c70-cdf9-f04477bb2629"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-left: 72pt; margin-right: 72pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin: 0pt 72pt 8pt; text-align: center;"><img height="400" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/Nsq6RjDRBv1dRh9YyBUGUYaSzhdm7DkS8uRZHu0Z9T2wSVFYhRJ9bO1Xby9YWj_BnAFRqRsBWXh7fwR0XGD2TE4S7NpIPxmkOFB4mI7_LS8T7hzYLrLfmWMGDIoaFavMNrvq3LU=w267-h400" style="font-size: 10.6667px; font-style: italic; margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;" width="267" /></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-left: 72pt; margin-right: 72pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin: 0pt 72pt 8pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Take the time to unwind my memories. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-left: 72pt; margin-right: 72pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin: 0pt 72pt 8pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Listen to me deeply, to the stories within. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-left: 72pt; margin-right: 72pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin: 0pt 72pt 8pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Like a child, lost in the world I have lost myself. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-left: 72pt; margin-right: 72pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin: 0pt 72pt 8pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Question me back into existence. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-left: 72pt; margin-right: 72pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin: 0pt 72pt 8pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Remind me who I once was. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-left: 72pt; margin-right: 72pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin: 0pt 72pt 8pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-left: 72pt; margin-right: 72pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin: 0pt 72pt 8pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Photo by A.A. Fouch</i></span></p></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080533188833538743.post-85442367518473751152021-03-17T13:37:00.018-07:002021-06-20T10:57:39.298-07:00Essay On Phantastes: An Analysis of Subverted Expectations Within a Fairytale<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgjZB4y0aFmEhHVMW2puls4syFCnqbkhQgztgNP0I-HakPyMXPKPqNC5qo8Omvy7SMiWJqDak-RXNkubL_Yhi8Ipz7SAq0Lnxeuz7O3AFs8x6-3QfOUV_63oeM55FCZgfOOJRCU8lrBghb/s500/phan.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="333" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgjZB4y0aFmEhHVMW2puls4syFCnqbkhQgztgNP0I-HakPyMXPKPqNC5qo8Omvy7SMiWJqDak-RXNkubL_Yhi8Ipz7SAq0Lnxeuz7O3AFs8x6-3QfOUV_63oeM55FCZgfOOJRCU8lrBghb/w266-h400/phan.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><div style="line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 28pt; margin-top: 12pt; text-align: left; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-indent: 36pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dear Reader,<br /></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-indent: 36pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The following is a feminist rhetorical analysis of one of my favorite books, <u>Phantastes</u> by George MacDonald. Though we use the word “feminist” in rhetorical criticism, it is not particular to females, nor is it political. Instead, it seeks to disrupt hegemonic views (long-standing ideologies). I hope you enjoy reading and are encouraged to pick up this wonderful book yourself! </span></span></div><div style="line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 28pt; margin-top: 12pt; text-align: left; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-indent: 36pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><u>Essay </u><br /></span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><span> </span>G</b>eorge MacDonald’s fairytale </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Phantastes</span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> upsets traditional norms within fairytale settings and continually subverts expectations within masculine and feminine forms. The end result is an exquisitely nuanced and mature fairytale that allows for new insight into masculine and feminine forms and functions, freeing men and women alike to embrace new aspects of themselves, and a rediscovery of the meaning of love. </span></span></div><div style="line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 28pt; margin-top: 12pt; text-align: left; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span> </span>On the eve of his twenty-first birthday Anodos, now fully “adult,” feels ready to put childhood and all its fantasies behind him. However, the fantasies themselves are not ready to part with him just yet. Having received his father’s old desk, he begins poking through its various compartments when a tiny “woman-form” emerges from one of them and declares to him that she is his great-great-grandmother. The next morning, he awakens to find his room transformed into a forest that leads into Fairyland. He then sets out on a dreamlike journey in which he meets several unexpected female and male characters that teach him the nature of true love. </span></span></div><div style="line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 28pt; margin-top: 12pt; text-align: left; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span> </span>On the border of Fairyland, Anodos is warned of the evil Ash Tree. He has a close scrape with the Ash, but avoids harm. He then finds The Marble Lady, a woman turned into stone through an enchantment. Enraptured with her beauty, he sings to her, hoping to wake her. She wakes but flees, leaving Anodos desperate to find her. Soon after, he meets with the Maid of the Alder, an evil enchantress who takes the form of the Marble Lady to deceive him and hand him over to the Ash Tree. Just before the Ash Tree overtakes him, someone cuts the tree down, allowing Anodos to escape. </span></span></div><div style="line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 28pt; margin-top: 12pt; text-align: left; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span> </span>Heartsick for the Marble Lady, he searches for her throughout Fairyland, learning more about his selfish, immature nature as he meets with other characters. Most notably, he meets with the Old Woman With Young Eyes, who teaches him several lessons about the nature of love, and the Noble Knight, who is the husband of the Marble Lady. Anodos loves both of these characters because of their goodness, and through them learns that love is unselfish and sacrificial. He understands that he loves the Marble Lady because her beauty is a signal of her inward goodness, and for that she ought to be universally loved, though he cannot love her in a romantic way. </span></span></div><div style="line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 28pt; margin-top: 12pt; text-align: left; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span> </span>Anodos is then sent by a Wise Woman to fight alongside two brothers to free Fairyland from terrible giants. He then becomes the squire of the Noble Knight. His time in Fairyland ends when he sees a group of priest-like people attempting to sacrifice a young man and woman to a wolf-like creature. He rushes at the creature to kill it and dies in the process. Suddenly, he awakes back in his own home, though the events which have transpired seem so real to him that neither Anodos or the reader are quite sure whether he was dreaming or actually transported to another place and time. </span></span></div><div style="line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 28pt; margin-top: 12pt; text-align: left; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span> </span>In </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rhetorical Criticism, </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sonja K. Foss explains that Feminist Criticism analyzes disruptions that occur in order to transform hegemonic thinking and “create new ways of thinking, acting, and being” (Foss, 147).Within traditional fairy tale structure, there are several expectations of both male and female archetypes. These can restrict and confine the expression of feminine and masculine energies within characters which, if taken too literally in daily life, stifle and limit human development. It is important to recognize that not all male or female people exhibit archetypal behavior. For example, a beautiful princess meets with a dashing prince and lives happily ever after. </span></span></div><div style="line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 28pt; margin-top: 12pt; text-align: left; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span> </span>These archetypes, if taken literally, limit the happiness of both the male and female characters to a reliance on the opposite gender. It also places expectations (eg. physical beauty) on the masculine and feminine forms. Rudimentary fairy tales can also lead to the assumption that a certain action will bring a certain consequence. This is not the case in real life. Honorable behavior does not always produce an immediate or tangible reward. Fairy tales do, however, create an imaginative space in which the microcosm of our inner worlds intersect with the macrocosm of archetypal stories for self-reflection and analysis. MacDonald “cultivates ambiguity” in his fairy tale through subversion and nuance that steers away from cliches. “This strategy violates conventional rules of rhetoric to construct messages that are clear and transparent (and thus reductive in meaning)” (Foss, 148). </span></span></div><div style="line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 28pt; margin-top: 12pt; text-align: left; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span> </span>Phantastes </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">is a fairytale that subverts many expectations placed upon both masculine and feminine forms, allowing the characters to manifest more holistically. It takes away certain traditional rewards, but replaces them with stronger, more resilient ones. When we first meet Anodos, we might expect from the traditional fairy tale arch that he is destined to meet with the romantic love of his life, and that through a process of trial and conquest, he will find this love and the two of them will live happily ever after. </span></span></div><div style="line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 28pt; margin-top: 12pt; text-align: left; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span> </span>MacDonald turns this story inside out and on its head, making Anodos both the hero and the villain in his own story. Repeatedly, Anodos himself is the one who repels the Marble Lady through his selfish desire. After singing to awaken her, he follows her to the Fairy Castle where she has become a living statue. Anodos relates his lack of self-control saying, “...in defiance of the law of the place, flung my arms around her…” after which the lady says, "You should not have touched me!" (MacDonald, 119). This subverts the traditional fairy tale structure in which the object of the male character is conquest of the female character (or vice versa). In opposition to conquest, MacDonald advocates for self-restraint, painting uncontrolled passion as a youthful weakness that strangles love rather than nurtures it. </span></span></div><div style="line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 28pt; margin-top: 12pt; text-align: left; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span> </span>Not only does </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Phantastes</span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> subvert passion, it subverts romantic love on the whole in regards to the main character. Anodos never receives any kind of romantic reward since the Marble Lady is already married. This does not leave him loveless, but instead opens the doorway to other loves that are in some ways deeper than romantic love. Anodos meets with several female characters who subvert expectations, both positively and negatively. This element of “multiplicity” also expands on femininity, allowing readers to see it in a more nuanced light (Foss, 147). </span></span></div><div style="line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 28pt; margin-top: 12pt; text-align: left; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span> </span>One of the most notable subversions is the Old Woman With Young Eyes. Anodos describes her voice as very young, but says her face “...was older than any countenance I had ever looked upon…. And the skin was ancient and brown, like old parchment. But the moment I saw her eyes, I no longer wondered at her voice: they were absolutely young… the eyelids themselves were old, and heavy, and worn; but the eyes were very incarnations of soft light” (Phantastes, 131). This juxtaposition of youthful beauty within an old form brings out a subversion of traditional masculinity in Anodos, allowing him to be a child, not in a childish manner, but open and humble. “I could not help laying my head on her bosom, and bursting into happy tears. She put her arms round me, saying, ‘Poor child; poor child!’” (Phantastes, 131). </span></span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">These subversions of age and beauty allow for full freedom of expression, as though time, space, and age are irrelevant, leaving only the honest and bare soul.</span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Throughout the rest of the story, Anodos remembers this particular Lady with deep love and affection, and her love carries him through many of his remaining trials in Fairyland.</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 28pt; margin-top: 12pt; text-align: left; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span> </span>The conclusion of </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Phantastes</span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> comes with a final subversion of the triumphant hero. While most fairy tales end with the hero having conquered his foe, Anodos does not return from his final conflict with the wolf-creature unscathed. Instead, he submits himself to the pinnacle of sacrifice; death for the love of his fellow man. Everything he has learned in Fairyland has brought him to a deeper understanding of love which lends itself to self-sacrifice. Upon facing this final fear, he experiences something unexpected--ultimate peace. As his soul broods over his body, Anodos says, “I was dead, and right content. I lay in my coffin, with my hands folded in peace. The knight, and the lady I loved (the Marble Lady), wept over me. ‘He has died well,’ said the lady. My spirit rejoiced” (MacDonald, 180). </span></span></div><div style="line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 28pt; margin-top: 12pt; text-align: left; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span> </span>When Anodos awakes to his “real life” on earth, he feels as though the worst of life, even death, is all behind him. Life and all its waking problems feel finite in comparison to the vastness he has experienced. He reflects, “When the thought of the blessedness I experienced, after my death in Fairy Land, is too high for me to lay hold upon it and hope in it, I often think of the wise woman in the cottage, and of her solemn assurance that she knew something too good to be told” (Phantastes, 187). This is the subversion of all subversions; that death itself is no bad thing if it is done for love, for love itself leads back to life. </span></span></div><div style="line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 28pt; margin-top: 12pt; text-align: left; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span> </span>The multiplicity of characters, and the nuanced, subverted nature of this fairy tale makes it a valuable read to expand the idea of masculine and feminine wisdom. By exploring seldom seen forms and functions of masculine and feminine energy, the soul of a person is made more complete, making this an interesting and enlightening read for the feminist critic. </span></span></div><div style="line-height: 2.4; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 28pt; margin-top: 12pt; text-align: left; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Works Cited<br /></span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Foss, Sonja K. </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rhetorical Criticism: Exploration and Practice</span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Waveland Press, 2018. <br /></span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MacDonald, George. </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Phantastes, a Faerie Romance for Men and Women</span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Project Gutenberg, 2015. </span></span></div><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080533188833538743.post-44657104918822188832021-03-04T15:20:00.017-08:002021-06-20T08:53:18.139-07:00Poem | Too-Small Wings <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAwDEbt5Ni_JFRaL2yc_gjLh1e8fzGwUX_rgV1AsKtpw55r8g4aBgBySuB9XLRbhi1oaz6cJDpZx7tL5qeFl9wITibqQRTu4OgP6cT8fyjk3fgvRiFunQiRtObd_MD9j4_yA_Poa5HBdOZ/" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img alt="" data-original-height="336" data-original-width="336" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAwDEbt5Ni_JFRaL2yc_gjLh1e8fzGwUX_rgV1AsKtpw55r8g4aBgBySuB9XLRbhi1oaz6cJDpZx7tL5qeFl9wITibqQRTu4OgP6cT8fyjk3fgvRiFunQiRtObd_MD9j4_yA_Poa5HBdOZ/w320-h320/image.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">“Do not desire," he said to me </span></div><p style="text-align: center;">With wearied eyes and worn beliefs,</p><p style="text-align: center;">"Desire only comes to grief;</p><p style="text-align: center;">From seeking, there is no relief." </p><p style="text-align: center;">I asked him all that he desired--</p><p style="text-align: center;">He showed me what he had acquired:</p><p style="text-align: center;">All the time that he had spent</p><p style="text-align: center;">On clothes and food</p><p style="text-align: center;">and friends and rent; </p><p style="text-align: center;">On chasing after selfish dreams,</p><p style="text-align: center;">Desires born of ingrown schemes. </p><p style="text-align: center;">I said, "You simply live too small--</p><p style="text-align: center;">Why, these weak wants won't do at all!</p><p style="text-align: center;">Better to have never lived </p><p style="text-align: center;">Than live a life of wasted gifts. </p><p style="text-align: center;">Your heart was made for grander things</p><p style="text-align: center;">Your weight too great for tiny wings." </p><p style="text-align: center;">He simply sighed and shook his head, </p><p style="text-align: center;">Drank his drink, and went to bed. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_Crombie"><i><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: xx-small;">image via wikipedia </span></i></a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080533188833538743.post-77386402055122459482021-02-28T19:12:00.011-08:002021-06-20T09:02:53.905-07:00Poem | A Thought is Like a Bird <p></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-06a0994c-7fff-0847-4449-fdb28928b1f1"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKh66ARJIDNjuCxPB7ovojo2Sr2G6Yok-4Os7cyuF8HKjVVB8V9lTOUm3CV-e60pw1TLOGI7Tmdw-TxobmZmar8DM1IFqJJMaPI41FYqkpLfa5Y1xF79oaXrTxgD7s0js1lywP6imCqAIT/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="667" data-original-width="1000" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKh66ARJIDNjuCxPB7ovojo2Sr2G6Yok-4Os7cyuF8HKjVVB8V9lTOUm3CV-e60pw1TLOGI7Tmdw-TxobmZmar8DM1IFqJJMaPI41FYqkpLfa5Y1xF79oaXrTxgD7s0js1lywP6imCqAIT/w456-h303/image.png" width="456" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-cefb5f8f-7fff-cadd-51e0-34a9b1190c99"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Fragile thought is like a bird--</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Evading eyes but always heard. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wonderous elusive creature!</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">With intricate and el'gant feature!</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Away he jumps straight into flight, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If ever he’s caught in my sight. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Perched upon the window sill </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Attending to his wondrous trill, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Too late I tune to hear his song</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Heard so quick, then quickly gone. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Seen from the corners of my eyes</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">His home the whole of all the skies. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With soft a step, I draw so near...</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He senses me and disappears.</span></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span></div><br /><br /><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080533188833538743.post-87611624868855730622021-02-16T18:21:00.012-08:002021-06-21T14:31:27.336-07:00Quiet Reflections on a Saturday Morning<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-9lueVXW0TgOMGgRZZ7sFClWvkzL94_wRhuW82Z-31zUykIkBlEZdm83hx4ltks1QpO8HskegpsuDMDYNmW4I3Kq7GKdXXil8gQJpLWC1GYrVedguBAbGIrWgcZNCLnWG2Vb3TNcEGJWh/s625/Of+hearth+and+home+%25E2%2580%2594+Good+morning+%25F0%259F%258C%259E+_+via+Tumblr.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="625" data-original-width="500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-9lueVXW0TgOMGgRZZ7sFClWvkzL94_wRhuW82Z-31zUykIkBlEZdm83hx4ltks1QpO8HskegpsuDMDYNmW4I3Kq7GKdXXil8gQJpLWC1GYrVedguBAbGIrWgcZNCLnWG2Vb3TNcEGJWh/w320-h400/Of+hearth+and+home+%25E2%2580%2594+Good+morning+%25F0%259F%258C%259E+_+via+Tumblr.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My eyes flicker open</span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Sleepily. </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Warm, golden light</span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Casts a magical haze</span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Over my room. </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In this moment, </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There is no time. </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I can picture myself </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Many years in the future, </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In the place where everyone knows my name, </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">and I am loved as dearly </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">as the moon, </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">For there, </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In the future, </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We all reflect the Son. </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I breathe slowly </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">and peacefully. </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There is no rush to be anywhere,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">or to do anything in particular. </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">If I like, I will do something nice, </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Such as have a cup of tea</span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">or bake fresh blueberry scones. </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">All the work of the world is done, </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Except for the work which is pleasant to do. </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Surely, there are hard things </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I can set my heart on, </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">But only because they are nice in the end. </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I sigh happily. </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">On this Saturday morning, </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I have gone to the edge of Universe </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">and peered over </span></div></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Into the Endless Hall of Delights. </span></div></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Image via Pinterest </span></i></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080533188833538743.post-40600173461986841362021-01-29T17:12:00.011-08:002021-05-15T04:35:40.580-07:00Seriously, Stop Taking Things Too Seriously!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggTaJcl2aMCDOP4u0nCBiV7rto0eZEKNut7JPP5k8qD74aLWWprqGdZzGCq5kxxMO1nvB2tu5uLCGeRFKpm14xzGoQ0bY3ZoVEL2CAgppg9Fnwq0Y8aaPVx91hrp2WFSDzjeXUxd53Yxn2/s509/letting+go.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" data-original-height="339" data-original-width="509" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggTaJcl2aMCDOP4u0nCBiV7rto0eZEKNut7JPP5k8qD74aLWWprqGdZzGCq5kxxMO1nvB2tu5uLCGeRFKpm14xzGoQ0bY3ZoVEL2CAgppg9Fnwq0Y8aaPVx91hrp2WFSDzjeXUxd53Yxn2/w640-h426/letting+go.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: inherit;">via istockphoto.com</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">Since childhood, I have been a pretty serious little person. I can look at a gum wrapper (this honestly happened when I was younger) and cry about its significance. Granted, there are things in life that are serious, and they should be treated with respect. This concept is not often grasped in today's "meme culture" where everything disintegrates. Both a lack and a surplus of significance can make a person miserable because the emotion becomes unstable and artificial. Things must be what they are. There must be truth. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">To say that nothing matters means that we are <i>attributing </i>meaningless to things that DO have meaning. Love, life, and existence all have meaning. There are solid answers for life, despite what popular philosophy would tell us. To say that certain things, objects, and events matter simply because we wish them to is <i>attributing </i>significance to something that may in truth be meaningless or at least not as meaningful as we would like. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">As someone who likes to hold onto things, objects, ideas, songs, emotions, memories, and people, I have to be very careful that I am not carrying around "stuff" that really isn't all that important. The main thing that is important in my life is my relationship with God, not my relationship with stuff or even people that I deeply love. If I am trusting in God and allowing him to show me what is important, my hands are far more free to move and do the work I am meant to do instead of running around, clutching things out of my perception of their importance. When I push away things that truly are significant, my hands are empty and I am not working with the tools I need to finish my tasks. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">My goal for this month is to stop attributing too much seriousness to things in my life that are not life and death. I want to practice letting go, leaving things behind, and pressing onward in the truly important things in life. </span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080533188833538743.post-66762600784517211602021-01-21T13:49:00.009-08:002021-05-14T20:07:52.836-07:00Poem | Time Does Not Go On For Me<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAbtNcF4v0lO1frbrwcUGpTOfKn9aeH067-gu6PwOB58LhygFIUMC8M6SjgLDQcEQfoKguSK4-r46Y5KyvRIgi9EK6JlxFF_ysa-aMTvtA1jHmSiDASw9-P_-dgQCbLgbIEfl7XRVBwWBS/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="994" data-original-width="1500" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAbtNcF4v0lO1frbrwcUGpTOfKn9aeH067-gu6PwOB58LhygFIUMC8M6SjgLDQcEQfoKguSK4-r46Y5KyvRIgi9EK6JlxFF_ysa-aMTvtA1jHmSiDASw9-P_-dgQCbLgbIEfl7XRVBwWBS/w640-h424/image.png" width="640" /></a></div><br />I am currently enjoying my last semester of college, and loving every helter-skelter minute of it. While listening to some poetry by Emily Dickinson in one of my morning classes, I was struck by the idea for this poem about memory. <p></p><p>Writers are, I think, in many ways slaves to their memories. I have had a "memory hoarding" issue since I was quite young, and found solace in writing things down. When your memory is very good like mine, it's easy to go back in time and even want to stay there longer than you should. </p><p>However, a good memory when used properly is a wonderful tool that lets you stand outside of time and space to help others see what they have forgotten about the world, or even themselves. This poem is both a sadness and a celebration of the gift of memory. </p><p><br /></p><p>Time does not go on for me</p><p>Forever I am crossed at sea. </p><p>Forever tossed </p><p>On still-same wave--</p><p>Forever here to start again. </p><p>I look into that face of yours, </p><p>And all I see are open doors, </p><p>Open doors within your eyes</p><p>Forever walking into mine. </p><p>Time makes strangers</p><p>Of loves and dangers. </p><p>But not of me, </p><p>It cannot be. </p><p>Forever in my wintered mind, </p><p>These thoughts preserved for all of time. </p><p>I look around myself and say</p><p>"I can recall like yesterday..." </p><p>Yet no one else remains here thus--</p><p>My memory stays, theirs fades to dust. </p><p>So all their ships go sailing by, </p><p>But on my boat, there is no time. </p><p><br /></p><p><i><span style="color: #999999;">Photo credit via - https://cverwaal.wordpress.com/2017/03/18/on-frozen-pond/</span></i></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080533188833538743.post-84131868139270314002020-03-28T10:27:00.008-07:002021-06-20T09:10:39.309-07:00Short Story | Awesome Apocalypse <div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-d8f210f5-7fff-3c1a-13b3-b83a0302dd16" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMTxBpwHX-bPoQNI-173McKb1xDnCH2wvJZBTGgcy10YMhcpJK4QJpdL-_YYyLNGrq2KajsaPKQiN9ibrAucyxfbYbZUQkkM2m6CCiD2ZXf4Uuxa4YLDsVjTFJYLAWehWr4PqPWXB4-Gw0/s2048/Untitled+design+%252811%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMTxBpwHX-bPoQNI-173McKb1xDnCH2wvJZBTGgcy10YMhcpJK4QJpdL-_YYyLNGrq2KajsaPKQiN9ibrAucyxfbYbZUQkkM2m6CCiD2ZXf4Uuxa4YLDsVjTFJYLAWehWr4PqPWXB4-Gw0/w300-h400/Untitled+design+%252811%2529.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: inherit;">It was a year I’ll never forget. I don’t remember exactly when it all happened, was it December? Or maybe January… Anyway, I remember the important stuff, and I remember how our lives were changed forever. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Dale… Hey, Dale, snap out of it, will you?” </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I glanced up from some kinda daze to see Mrs. Lutz snapping her fingers in my face. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Huh?” </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“The rabbits cages need changing, and don’t forget to stock the bird seed on isle five, people are already getting things for spring.”</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Sure…” I mumbled.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Hey, is something wrong?” Mrs Lutz had never had any kids of her own, but she was a really mothering person. She and her husband Dan ran Feathers n’ Fur, a pet shop that had been in business longer than most stores in our town. We had a nice little shopping center, but rent was high so people were always coming and going. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Feathers n’ Fur had what I call “staying power.” I’d been visiting that place since I was seven, and worked there all through middle school into my then senior year of high school. I don’t know why it stayed in business so long. Maybe it was because you couldn’t walk out of the shop without feeling pressure to buy something. Maybe people in the suburbs cared more about their purse dogs than anything else. My mom said it was because the Lutz’s treated everyone like family. Which was great, except for these kind of moments when Mrs. Lutz would fold her arms and look at me, willing me to tell all with her deep brown eyes. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Come on, our with it. You’ve been moping around all day. What’s the matter?” </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It’s nothing, it’s just…” Why did I have to say ‘it’s just..:’ Now, she would pounce on me...</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Ah ha, I knew it. Out with it!”</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well… there’s this really nice girl who just moved to our school.” </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Hmm… what’s her name?” </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Jamie,” I said, staring sideways.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Cute name,” Mrs. Lutz nodded approvingly. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah… anyway, she’s really great at sports, especially basketball, but I don’t know if she likes me or not. She smiles and waves to me at school, but she kinda does that to everybody.” I shrugged, trying to be indifferent. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well that’s a really good sign in a person. The better than can treat everyone, the better they can treat one person.” </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What do you mean?”</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well, if you can treat one hundred people nicely in all their moods and tempers, you won’t have too much of a problem with just one person.”</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I guess so…” I nodded.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Why don’t you ask her to hang out with you sometime?” </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I turned about a thousand shades of red and protested, “Oh no way, Mrs. Lutz… that’s like asking her on a date. I’ve had my share of girlfriends… I just I don’t know, she’s different.”</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Don’t make it complicated,” Mrs. Lutz shook her head, “just ask her like you’d ask any friend to hang out with you. Get to know her like a person.” </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“But she’s a… well… you know…”</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“A cute girl. I totally get it. But she’s more than that. Or at least I hope so! Just be her friend, her true friend. Don’t think about yourself and whatever happens you’ll be ok.” </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The doorbell rang and Mrs. Lutz pointed and smiled at me, then went to take care of the customer. I lifted off the top of the bunny cages and scooped up Fruffles and Fringles into a laundry basket with a blanket and some snacks while I cleaned out their cage. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mrs. Lutz’s was talking happily with the customer at the cash wrap when suddenly their voices lowered. I wasn’t much of an eavesdropper but I couldn’t help sensing that something was wrong and stopped my work for a moment to hear. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Do you think it’ll get that bad?” Mrs. Lutz said quietly. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I don’t know…” the lady customer answered. Their voices became too low to hear much else, but I heard the word “virus” pop up occasionally. I looked down at Fruffles and Fringles and realized I had been spacing out for awhile. “Sorry guys…” I whispered to the rabbits and resumed my work. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The virus. I had heard something about that on the news. But, it was overseas, a million miles away, right? No way it could reach us, with modern technology and everything… People were just overreacting… right? </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mrs. Lutz’s voice suddenly broke into my thoughts.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Dale, I want you to finish the cages and then I need you to go get some supplies, mostly cleaning and antiseptic things. I’ll write a list.” Mrs. Lutz was not an easily disturbed person. She dealt with snakes and spiders and had what I would call a pretty hearty constitution. But she looked pale and serious. That’s when I knew… overreacting or not, something was happening. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">-</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Dale!” </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah Mom?” </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Will you come and watch this?” </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mom never had the tv on. She hated “programming” and I can’t say I blame her. Who could stand the news machine these days? She was usually pursuing YouTube to stay up to date on things, but she’d let the TV run most of the week. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Everyday it was something new. First it was wash your hands. A few deaths were announced. Then it was school closures. Six weeks of no school. That’s when things got dicey. People started to panic and stockpile stuff. Business after business closed their doors. I wasn’t too nervous until they started closing down restaurants and all sports events. What in the world was going on? I was too young to remember, but I had read a lot about Y2K. Maybe it was like that and it would all blow over… </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“The Governor just announced that we are going on lockdown for fifteen days…” Mom said, nodding at the screen. “Think you can do a supply run for me?” </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Sure Mom, just let me know what we need,” I said sitting down on the couch.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mom sighed. She was so tired. She was already really frail, and to see her stressed bothered me. Since dad had left us it was just Mom and me. I tried my best to take care of everything, but I still felt like a little kid sometimes. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I don’t really know, sweetie. I’m gonna leave that to your judgement. You’re pretty good about our groceries and everything. I’ll give you some of my allowance from your Dad, it won’t be much but we should be ok.” </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I swallowed a lump in my throat. I had quite a bit of cash saved up for a trip I’d been planning for months with my best friend Ryan, but I knew it was probably going to have to be spent on stuff we needed now. It was typical in my family, but at least I was able to provide. I wouldn’t let Mom know I’d spent any of my own money or she’d kill me. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Ok, well, I’ll look around the house and see what we need!” I made myself cheerful for her, kissed her on the head and started looking through our pantries.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What do you need in an apocalypse…” I thought with a smirk. How many times had my friends and I played games like this when we were kids. Dystopian teen fiction stories flooded my head. Most of the time the first thing the characters needed were weapons. I thought how useless a weapon would really be if it came down to actually finding stuff to eat. What was I going to do, skin a squirrel? </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Ryan. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Hey! Have you seen the whole quarantine thing?”</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yep, just looking around to see what we need for supplies…”</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I made a list, hang on.”</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ryan was always planning for some natural disaster. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Soap</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Salt</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Hydrogen peroxide</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Hand sanitizer </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rubbing alcohol </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bandages </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Soil</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Food seeds</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Water purifier </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Back up generator </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Toilet paper</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Dude…” I texted back “you act like someone’s gonna die.” </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Hey, it never hurts to be prepared.” </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">30 DAYS LATER. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Everyone was still in quarantine. At first I thought I was going to lose my mind not having any contact with the outside world. But then, Ryan got a bunch of us kids from school in a group text and we all felt connected to people again. It was funny, most of us had kind of been happy just to come home after school and sit in front of the tv. Now, it was like we had all these ideas and all this energy that wasn’t being siphoned away at school or work. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ryan challenged us to completely clean out our house. I found so much stuff in my room, even made a little cash selling some things I didn’t need anymore online. Once my room was completely clean, my brain felt more organized. I sat down at my desk and felt like I had some control over my life. Maybe not a lot, but it was something! </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Ok gang, how is your house project going?” Ryan texted. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">May - Great! I found some old journals of mine and I started reading them the other day. It was really nice to reflect on things. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Zane - I actually read a book. It wasn’t too bad. I don’t even know why I picked it up, I usually hate reading but I wanted a challenge. The story was pretty cool too! </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Zach - I started planting some seeds in the house. My family thought it was kind of crazy at first but my mom let me have some plants in the kitchen and my little brother is helping me water them. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jamie - I’ve had time to do some drawing! I haven’t done that since middle school, I forgot how much I enjoyed it.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was happy that Jamie was in the chat.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I replied - I’ve been working on cleaning things mostly. Guess I want to start on the garden thing next.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ryan - How is everyone for supplies? </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Zach - We have enough toilet paper for a little while! Haha! </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jamie - If we run out, there’s always leaves, haha! </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Me - No way, I am NOT using leaves! </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jamie - Beggers can’t be choosers! </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">30 DAYS LATER </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The internet was going to be shut down for awhile. It was really tough dealing with that fact. The Governor told us that different areas of the country would get internet access at certain times but due to the overload we wouldn’t be able to handle everyone being on the internet at once. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jamie and I had called each other a few times. I called her to check in before the first blackout hit us. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Hey, how is everything?” </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“We’re ok. My dad is kinda stressed but he’s glad he already had a garden going. I’m so glad he and my mom work from home. We are all so used to being around each other all the time. I think other families are finding it isn’t so bad. Family is really important. Talking is really important. I’m praying for your family, hope you don’t mind.” </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah… thanks.” it had been awhile since I’d junked out on Netflix. Not having sports stats in my feed constantly was hard at first, but I felt my brain waking up in ways I didn’t know it needed to. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well, as soon as this while quarantine thing is over, we should get everyone together and do something fun!” I said. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah! My dad says that we probably will break quarantine by Thanksgiving. We will have a real feast, even if it’s just our garden veggies!” </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah, we’ll all be thankful for real this year!” I thought about how many times I had had gobs and gobs of food without a second thought. I wasn’t starving by any means but eating the same foods every day and only being able to go out every other week for groceries was tough. The stores didn’t have all that much anyway. I started some seedlings the last couple weeks and hoped that it would be enough to have something on hand. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“All in all,” Jamie said, “this has been an awesome apocalypse. I’ve seen people be so supportive of each other and actually start caring about their families again. I don’t even really want to be on the internet all that much. I just want to be with people again!”</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah, me too…” I wondered how long it would be until we could all sit down and share a meal again. But just like the seeds we had planted, we were all growing in our own ways. We were leaning discipline and skills that our ancestors had known and we had completely forgotten.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When quarantine finally broke, Jamie’s dad invited all of us kids over to the house for a celebration. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Ryan! Jamie!” I yelled and waved to them as I jumped out of the car. I felt like a little kid. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We played games outside and then sat down to eat healthy food a lot of which we had all grown and were really proud of.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Mr Christen, do you think we will be able to go back to work pretty soon?” </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mr. Christen leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “I expect so, yes. But I think it’s going to be awhile before this get back to normal. We might have a new kind of normal…”</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well, I like this new normal a heck of a lot more than just staring at a screen all the time. I feel more alive, more like me!” Jamie said stuffing her face with chicken. She told me later she hadn’t had chicken in months.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Nothing like a crisis to help pull everyone together! I found myself really being thankful for what I’ve been given.”</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I looked around the room. No one was looking at phones. We were looking at faces.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-size-adjust: auto;" />
</span><div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mr. Christen was right. It was a long time before things went back to normal. But we were all in it together, and we were ready for a new adventure. </span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080533188833538743.post-18789331133147367432020-03-21T12:11:00.009-07:002021-06-28T06:37:09.965-07:00Essay | Unpacking "The Christian Imagination" by Leland Ryken <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPRFwez5FfNz23Gmt9l8xQ6Ufxdj1ZvWj6dN7RMkVT281kVTB177f7rrJsMY0cVoA34nkbMbI2BKbni8E-Sl23ZykqnHzMQktNouyQgCIlVjMri79u54-eADs1YodfTh61rjCetecu5NMa/s1024/Untitled+design+%25282%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPRFwez5FfNz23Gmt9l8xQ6Ufxdj1ZvWj6dN7RMkVT281kVTB177f7rrJsMY0cVoA34nkbMbI2BKbni8E-Sl23ZykqnHzMQktNouyQgCIlVjMri79u54-eADs1YodfTh61rjCetecu5NMa/w300-h400/Untitled+design+%25282%2529.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
Logic can be a useful
tool when sharing the gospel, particularly with certain personality types.
However, art has the ability to transcend logic in order to reach the soul.
This does not mean that we should abandon logic in our art development.
Instead, a believer’s art ought to wrap around the bones, muscles and organs of
the truth to deliver a body of art that can move. It should breathe and interact with another
person’s soul rather than presenting merely the skeleton of the cold, hard
facts.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: inherit;">Art “moves” us. It
moves us upward towards heaven, or downward towards hell. It moves us closer or
further away from relationships. The influence of art is seen every day, while
logic is (to our detriment) often ignored because in no way does it grab hold
of our emotions. Our souls will respond to what they desire. If a soul desires
God (love, truth, light, goodness), art that is traveling towards him will put
the observer in transport to him. The same is true for a soul that does not
desire God; it will travel in the opposite direction (hate, lies, darkness,
evil). These are the two narratives a soul can choose by which to live.
Madeleine L’Engle states that “...the purpose of the work… (art) is to further
the coming of the kingdom, to make us aware of our status as children of God,
and to turn our feet toward home” (Ryken, 206). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: inherit;">Modern art often hits
a glass ceiling or a wall because it no longer promises the hope of anything beyond
this material realm. The soul flies upwards thinking it will find heaven, only
to dash itself against the dome of despair and fall back to earth more wounded
than ever. “Why?” people ask “would we subject ourselves to a desire that could
never be fulfilled?” Janine Langan argues that a believer’s art ought to be
“eschatological” (Ryken, 70). “It perceives the paradox at the heart of
creation, which must find fulfillment in another new and incommensurable
world.” A believer’s art ought to help quench the thirst for the hope that lies
beyond. This will never come from pure logic. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">image via canva</span></i></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080533188833538743.post-6236240372761761942020-03-11T16:10:00.010-07:002021-06-20T09:07:48.786-07:00Book Review | A Family Apart by Joan Lowery Nixon <div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkh83eRqOyRKqHnkNdkDuYBhCx9b-oKlzQmQGX1AuvTLi4jN9eoPmWHAhEM_2-AccOf-SI2euXKV234pTCBFZdR3oX3rNC1qQtUjtwTROc0yXTlppxJ-u2CogqZbAElTDOXZijmn5p865g/s1600/family+apart.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="450" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkh83eRqOyRKqHnkNdkDuYBhCx9b-oKlzQmQGX1AuvTLi4jN9eoPmWHAhEM_2-AccOf-SI2euXKV234pTCBFZdR3oX3rNC1qQtUjtwTROc0yXTlppxJ-u2CogqZbAElTDOXZijmn5p865g/s400/family+apart.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">When Frances Kelly finds herself torn away from her mother and her close-knit family, she becomes determined to protect her youngest siblings, even if it means changing her identity.
It is 1860, and the Kelly family, Irish immigrants in New York City, find themselves the object of disdain and oppression. Thirteen-year-old Frances Kelly’s father has passed away, and her mother declares to her six children that she can no longer provide a suitable home for them. They will be sent away to find separate homes in the country on the Orphan Train.
Frances’ younger brother Petey is terrified of being alone, and Frances overhears some caretakers say that brothers are more likely to be sent out together to work on farms. She decides to take matters into her own hands to protect her brother, cuts her hair, dons her brother’s clothes, and assumes the identity of “Frankie.” Desperate to keep her secret, Frances is constantly looking over her shoulder while trying to take on her new responsibilities in her foster family.
A touching story about the close bond between family and selfless love,<i> A Family Apart</i> is a fast-paced chapter book that plunges young readers into a heart-felt historical fiction. </span><br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080533188833538743.post-39090925889566770182020-03-02T14:47:00.009-08:002021-06-19T23:42:07.496-07:00Why Should I Read? <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxbbRVSxLMkDXGbYb9W2B7C0d8-4uHcH9SEQb6SZwwtEqv2uRUW0yZ9Vo5H-xyWpaODcGbsJq8rZXv6GVB42zt61C53f5HlAOFhMGrMD9NehH_9lrrIEsIx6k_Jw-sVe6drpO9RoZKGm6p/s1600/read%2521.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxbbRVSxLMkDXGbYb9W2B7C0d8-4uHcH9SEQb6SZwwtEqv2uRUW0yZ9Vo5H-xyWpaODcGbsJq8rZXv6GVB42zt61C53f5HlAOFhMGrMD9NehH_9lrrIEsIx6k_Jw-sVe6drpO9RoZKGm6p/w640-h426/read%2521.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>
<h2><i>
"Oh, I don't have time to read anymore." </i></h2><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: inherit;">
I can't tell you how many times I've heard that phrase slip out of not only other's mouths, but my own! That's right, even as a writer, I still find it difficult to read.<br />
<br />
But we do read! We read every day - Texts, emails, ads, nutrition labels, signs, social media, and a plethora of other platforms. But how much of what we are reading is feeding our soul? Perhaps it isn't that we don't have time to read, but rather that we no longer enjoy it.<br />
<br />
For many of us, reading has become a chore. Some find it difficult due to reading disabilities. Others struggle to focus their attention on static text Just the act of scanning our eyes across the page can seem strenuous after being accustom to passive viewing via screens. However, I believe that reading can reset our minds, and strengthen atrophied imaginations.<br />
<br />
In our hurry-scurry world, the act of reading is a rebellious meditation. By reading, we can calm our bodies, minds and spirits by allowing ourselves to focus on one task. Training ourselves to focus and slow down can help us in all other areas of life.<br />
<br />
Of course, if you are going to bother to take the time to read, you should take time to select the best of books for yourself! I have been blessed to consume a good quantity of old, forgotten literature. Tragedies taught me lessons, poems filled my soul with feeling, and dramas gave me a sense of justice and hope. These are the things I want to pass along to future generations through well-crafted sentences and stories.<br />
<br />
Reading good books should elevate the mind above the din of our everyday lives to give us a better perspective on the world. I hope you find books throughout your life that fill your heart with compassion, your head with knowledge, and your hands with skill.<br />
<br />
Keep reading!<br />
A.A. Fouch<br /></span>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1