lilac wine

Props to Miley Cyrus for a beautiful rendition of James Shelton's "Lilac Wine". I even love this one better than Jeff Buckley's version. 

innocence

Riverside - Agnes Obel

The American Heritage Dictionary defines vulgar as "of or associated with the great masses of people as distinguished from the educated or cultivated classes; common...spoken by, or expressed in language spoken by, the common people; vernacular...deficient in taste, delicacy, or refinement...ill-bred; boorish; crude...obscene or indecent; offensive; coarse or bawdy." When I read this I think: South Park. SNL. PB and Cosmo Magazines. American Pie. Dumb and Dumber. And every other Box Office hit of modern comedy films. Most thirteen year old American kids can quote entire skits of Dane Cook, without skipping a beat, or a cussword for that matter. It's frustrating and discouraging to engage in, or even hold a conversation about anything at all with most people. The masses have been dumbed down, broadened, and brain-washed. Sigh. I would like to snatch up all those children sitting on the curb that are tweeting or texting, and throw them into a library. Maybe lock them in there for a week or two. Children need nature and art to gently nourish and develop them into clear-thinking adults. "Art, to many, is cultivated and refined by
nature, and therefore separate from the great masses."(Comparative Literature and Culture: Purdue University) Instead of influential literature, art, music, and a motivating free-roam environment to stimulate their imagination, children and teens are faced with shallow modern paperbacks, technology, and entertainment to fill their time. If the brain is like a thirsty sponge, what nourishment are they absorbing?? Last weekend when I babysitted again, these eight and ten year old boys sat in front of a tv screen. The entire five hours. They went from video game to video game, to tv show, to movie, to Wii, then back to vegetating in front of another tv show until they passed out. All my attempts to distract them from technology and engage them in something more stimulating was of no avail. And in fact, literature or music was futile as their collection of books was direly lacking, and there was not an instrument in sight. They also live in the city, so there was nothing outside to attract them. Like most young boys their attention span was short, impatient, and restless. It was painful for me to see them cooped up, restricted, and dulled down by technology and entertainment. I call this nature-deficit disorder. Sigh. I would like to scoop up every video gamer pro and every Nickelodeon vegetate and throw them into a forest. Perhaps give them a few fairytales to absorb into their little thirsty imaginations. Over and out. I believe my rant is over.

pick up a book.

The Cosmonaut - Fall On Your Sword

Living in modernity is like living in a box. Our lives, and everything we do in our daily lives, revolve around boxes now. Am I not typing into a box at this very moment? Sometimes I wonder what the world would be like if capitalism, industrialization, secularization, rationalization, the nation-state, and an ambition to obliterate God from all Modern Thinking, had never happened, or at least had never developed to the horrific degree that it has. The infatuation with celebrities, and the obsession with technology is simply unavoidable in modern culture. Exploitation rampages through all forms of entertainment, and it is unheard of (with the exception of rare cases) to be capable of surviving without technological dependency. Political democrazy, femininity, and many other cultural values are entirely skewed and perverted, modern best-seller literature is soiled in erotic portrayals of love and beauty, and reality and purpose in meaningless watered-down fiction. If one puts the question "What is Truth?" (yes, with a capital T) to a group of secular college students, your average young American will most likely reply with his belief that truth is relative. Let's take our regular modern girl, growing up in America in the twenty-first century. Her character is developed in a whirlwind of pre-puberty boyfriend relationships, a broken family, Lady Gaga infatuation, schoolmate peer pressure, narcotics, iPods, Facebook, Twitter, exploitation, and a love-starved culture demanding her to conform to it's erotic perversion of Beauty. Let's look at a few icons, or idols, within the past couple centuries. We've got Monroe, Madonna, Britney, Gaga, Paris Hilton, Bundchen, and Miley. What do they all have in common? Fashion, abused talent, immorality, and chiefly: careers in personal erotic exploitation. Where is the fulfillment in life? I just don't get it. In Modernity, there is no pursuit of an eternity. Our culture pushes for pleasure, and partaking in the moment, the here and now. No wonder the majority of America dives into drugs (legal and non-legal) and alcohol, searching for more feeling, more meaning in life. There are no healthy role models, healthy outlets towards Reality. Now let's jump back to within the past several hundred years. The leading women (fictional and non-fictional) were the heroines of virtue, the stronghold towers of femininity: Penelope, Lady of Shallot, Jane Eyre, Lady Marian, Jeanne d'Arc, Galadriel, Anne Elliot, Elizabeth Bennet, Rebecca the Jewess, Lady Rowena... etc. etc. I hope that someday younger generations will turn back to ancient literature, and find meaning within these beautiful characters. Perhaps more youth will discover significance and principle behind the chivalric ideal of womanhood: she who is fair, chaste, virtuous, and loyal to Truth. 

She was a phantom of delight
When first she gleam'd upon my sight;
A lovely apparition, sent
To be a moment's ornament;
Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;
Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair;
But all things else about her drawn
From May-time and the cheerful dawn;
A dancing shape, an image gay,
To haunt, to startle, and waylay.

I saw her upon nearer view,
A Spirit, yet a Woman too!
Her household motions light and free,
And steps of virgin liberty;
A countenance in which did meet
Sweet records, promises as sweet;
A creature not too bright or good
For human nature's daily food;
For transient sorrows, simple wiles,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.

And now I see with eye serene
The very pulse of the machine;
A being breathing thoughtful breath,
A traveller between life and death;
The reason firm, the temperate will,
Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;
A perfect Woman, nobly plann'd,
To warn, to comfort, and command;
And yet a Spirit still, and bright
With something of angelic light.    

-Wordsworth

tribute to once

A favorite scene from a favorite film. Indifferently writing and recording a song on a cassette at three in the morning in her jammies..on an impulse because she couldn't sleep. Not bad. Here's to Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová, and the superb film, Once. Ahh Once, proof that talent and not budget makes a good film. After all, it did win an Oscar! As an indie, foreign low-budget film, I was surprised when I heard it had been developed into a play on Broadway last year. I don't think I see it as Broadway material...I would like to see it though..I'm sure it would be interesting..

                                                                             


Falling Slowly - Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová


The Hill - Markéta Irglová

 

Gold - Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová


All The Way Down - Glen Hansard

perspective

Hungry Ghosts - I Don't Think...



      Within our lifetimes, we've marveled as biologists have managed to look at ever smaller and smaller things. And astronomers have looked further and further into the dark night sky, back in time and out in space. But maybe the most mysterious of all is neither the small nor the large: it's us, up close. Could we even recognize ourselves, and if we did, would we know ourselves? What would we say to ourselves? What would we learn from ourselves? What would we really like to see if we could stand outside ourselves and look at us?
-Richard Berendzen (Another Earth)

someone that I used to know

These crazy Canadians were smart enough to invite Sarah Blackwood to help them cover that beloved aussie, Gotye's hit.....on a single guitar....  Brilliant!!! and I'm a hooked follower. 

Although I love Blackwood, I prefer Kimbra's original vocals... just sayin'.

Gotye's vid was a bit risque for my little blog so the audio will have to suffice. :) I'm picky about his dreamy music, and look forward to him creating more passionate songs like this one. Gotye, why don't you sing louder more often?

Someone That I Used To Know - Gotye (feat. Kimbra)

Mademoiselle Agnès

'but the sound always finds me, despite them being dead and gone...'

Kin - Radical Face



         There is a look of wistful abandonment in ancient doorways, garden gates, structural ruins, decayed pathways. They evoke a sense of nostalgia and tempt the viewer's curiosity with the secret stories they hold. Can you walk past an old door, ruined stairway, corroded home, or ancient architecture without stopping a moment, at least in your thoughts, to contemplate and wonder their history? Who laid those stones...what hands bolted that lock...what persons walked across that threshold, and what were their lives? The Secret Garden is one of my favorite stories, and the garden gate, protected by the tangled wall of vines in the book reminds me of the hidden story behind that ancient garden door. Of course, the tale within those walls is mysteriously tragic and shadowed in a dark past, but all doors are different. Doors can be experienced in a spiritual way as well, as anyone will attest to.. opportunities, nightmares, moments of inscape, discoveries, journeys, etc etc etc. All doors give a slight intimation, or warning, of what lies behind the lock. However you view or experience doorways, whether in the material form or the spiritual sense, its cannot be denied that a door causes the human mind to speculate its concealment and privacy, what lies beyond, what enlightenment the unknown holds for our wonder.

"Faith is to believe what you do not see; the reward of this faith is to see what you believe." - Augustine of Hippo

beauté de la souffrance

La Valse d'Amelie - Yann Tiersen


beauté de la souffrance.....a subject my thoughts turn to occasionally. this poem by Hopkins that I studied in 20th century literature helped me express my understanding of the mystery of suffering and the possible hand of divinity within its experiences. 

The Wreck of the Deutschland by Gerald Manley Hopkins is a contemplative meditation on his philosophical view of suffering. Its also a compassionate dedication to five Franciscan nuns aboard the ship who were exiled from Germany on account of their Christian Faith whose ship runs aground in a December blizzard in the year 1875. In Hopkins’ contemplations of original sin, suffering is the only means to attaining wisdom due to the sins of man. A key principle behind the poet’s writings is the theory of inscape and haecceitas. (1. Haecceitas is the premise that everything is loved into existence. It is the unique essence beyond the unifying essence. In other words, creation pulses with the heart of God and this is a constant reminder of His existence. Through nature He is reflected like a mirror, and His fingerprints are pressed indelibly on all things perceived by our senses, the physical world, and even moments in history. 2. Inscape is the uniqueness of a thing, the oneness of its being in which it expresses its purpose of creation. 3. Instress is a passionate perception directed to an object, a sudden revelation. Through this moment of epiphany comes an understanding of inscape.) However, secular philosophies do not expressly define inscape in a religious sense as does Hopkins, making his profoundly distinctive. Suffering in itself is so often misunderstood by the majority of humanity, being strictly avoided by the “common sense” to seek happiness and evade unnecessary discomfort. Conversely Hopkins delineates his viewpoint with shocking language to startle the common projections of modernity, prodding the reader’s conscience. Observably the poet recognizes suffering in this mystical, haecceitas sense that suffering is unavoidable. God is contrastingly illustrated as “lightning and love”, as “winter and warm”, a strong connection to the necessary paradox of suffering and love. His creation is palpable, stimulated by feeling, and not comfortably numb as a mass amount of humanity wishes or strives to be if they cannot attain happiness on this earth. The storm is a symbolic imagery of God’s love through suffering, its role plays as an inscape to the power, beauty, and majesty of God. Through the beauty, glory, and deadliness of this elemental nature we see the beauty, glory, and deadliness of the Hand behind its force. In a sense all points to Him because He willed all into being. Captivated by the terrifying face of the storm, which depicts the terrifying face of God’s wrath, the poet is faced with the frightening actuality of capitulating to this unavoidable reality. He is stricken by the “frown of his face before me, the hurtle of hell behind…and fled with a fling of the heart to the heart of the Host.” This moment of instress is a reminder of the presence of God found in suffering and also elemental power. God is not to be blamed entirely for the horrors we come across in living. The line “hard down with a horror of height, and the midriff astrain with leaning of, laced with fire of stress” aptly describes how life itself can be in many cases. In Hopkins’ inscape he points back to where the roots of horror stem from man’s original sin. Because of humanity’s weakness and forgetfulness man either has no understanding of suffering or he wavers in the face of suffering and “horror”. But in reality the death of each of these drowning individuals is a gateway to their life. Death in itself is a painful experience for all and it is necessary to attain true happiness. The crucifixion is the ultimate inscape of love and suffering, and even the greatest saints received the worst sufferings as a gift from God for willingly choosing to suffer in His name. In His words “there is always respite in suffering, an ark available to all who repent.” I see the storm as a symbol of God’s love.... As we pursue the paradoxical mystery of haecceitas, it becomes evident that these two are never separated: suffering and love.  With the knowledge of such comes a deeper inscape to true justice and democracy.  Hopkins, through his language of poetry, strives to relate the most puzzling and seemingly contradictory message to his audience.  Suffering has never been, and most likely will never be fully understood or accepted. Particularly by myself. Its no wonder the reader is struck when realizing Hopkins’ message is that when God seems to wring our heart out in anguish at times until it bleeds with its wounds and we cry out “Enough!” in hurt outrage, He was actually lovingly fondling it all along. Meditating upon that we find this is the very opposite of numbness. Our vulnerability to His love is like a raw nerve. The realization of this, whether through literature or a moment of inscape, is truly shocking, as it entails so much feeling. Studying the character of the nun, we see her as an instrument making music amidst a babble of torment. Tolling like a bell, she is bringing, or rather singing souls to Christ. Amidst all this the nun is being continuously spat at by the waves, stung and blinded even as she prays. She is banned from the land of her birth for her Christian faith, hated and exiled by her people, and yet she joyfully embraces a situation that most people would admit as a personal moment of despair. And this leads us to the crucifixion, which is the mystical meaning of love, the ultimate love in suffering. The crucifixion is basically as deep as it gets. The nun baptizes her worst moment with prayer, and she has her reward throughout all this suffering. “She has Thee for the pain.” She really is the finger of providence; a St. John the Baptist figure. Her voice above the pounding waves to the despairing sailors is like a bell to ring the love of God into the sheep’s’ heart, to startle them back to safety, back to their Shepherd. It is a reminder that God is also the ancient lord of death, and that the storm is necessary to put things right, to bring peace. Unbeknownst to the sailors, God is lord of the storm, He is in it. In Thomistic language, God is staunch. Staunch is to stop and to heal. He stops, prevents, and heals. God is quench. Quench is to satisfy, to put out. That which extinguishes the desire satisfies it, for example, you cannot look at the crucifixion without looking at and understanding the resurrection. They go hand in hand. Again, God is kind as in kindred, king and kindly. Royally reclaiming His own through storm and suffering in these three senses. It is then we come to grasp that our true home, our true ultimate happiness, is solely to be found in the love of Christ’s burning fire...

"autumn wins you best by this, its mute appeal to sympathy for its decay..."

la dispute - yann tiersen

"Madness, provided it comes as a gift from heaven, is the channel by which we receive the greatest blessings.... If a man comes to the door of poetry untouched by the madness of the Muses, believing that technique alone will make him a great poet, he and his sane compositions never reach perfection, but are utterly eclipsed by the performances of the inspired madman."

--Plato

Autumn approaches… been reading the French poet Peguy, studying the German language with my little sis, transforming my diet to a whole new level of health (thanks to my family’s newly enforced dieting menu plan). Gah I just want a donut. Enough with the salads, fruit, and microscopic portions of oatmeal. Barefoot running every other day, and noticing a steadily increasing passion for running, and longer distances. Born to Run by Christopher McDougall honestly changed my perspective on life, I keep that book next to my bible. The incessant rainstorms here in Florida give ample room for meditating, reading, and my sewing projects. This skirt pattern I’m working on is making me a little uneasy, as its being hand-sewn. I need a machine…this is gunna take forever!!!


         Milton is one of my favorite poets, and Paradise Lost my favorite book. Whether it is theologically accurate or not doesn’t concern me, I just simply love the brilliance of Milton’s mind, woven in beautiful language throughout this literary masterpiece. Book IV is particularly my favorite, as I find it the most intriguing. Milton expresses, through profound use of prose, the powerful linguistic seductions of Satan to Eve. Easily said, Satan’s intention is to find either Adam or Eve and persuade them to disobey the command of God by eating of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Preferring to find Eve alone in the garden, he gleefully spots her alone and confronting her in the form of a snake he proceeds to carry out his evil quest in different manners of speech. He starts with excessive praises of her beauty, her superiority to man, and her near likeness to divinity. Eve (oh Eve…) is amazed that a snake can talk and intrigued, she questions him as to how this came to be. He tells her that he was endowed with this power because he ate the fruit of a certain tree and that she too can have this power and knowledge. He then leads her to the alleged tree where she recognizes the forbidden tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Satan then persuades her into thinking that she is superior to all creation and with these delusions of grandeur she begins to desire to be ranked parallel with God. She eats of the fruit and immediately fears her separation with Adam regarding her fate. Running to him she persuades him to eat of the fruit as well and share her fate. Because of the unique language of Satan and the use of reason, observation, scientific language, and experience in his discourse with Eve, his devious wiles prove effective, with fateful consequences. So, his intelligence, knowledge, and experience impress her and in her naivety she trusts him…

I see this story in Genesis as a very figurative tale, told in this form simply to inform mankind of his weak nature, and the necessity of avoiding and learning from our mistakes. The seducer/snake/satan/whatever could be anything that tempts us into sin. Satan appears to Eve in the physical form of a serpent. He is precisely described as a “Mere Serpent” and this most likely means that he was simply a serpent and not the half-woman and half-serpent that he was often depicted as in paintings before and during Milton’s time. He approaches her as a majestic serpent and tries to “lure her eye” towards him. In his first speech to Eve he primarily flatters her beauty with smooth compliments. He works on her pride and takes advantage of her naivety out of extreme envy and hate: “what hither brought us, hate, not love, nor hope/ Of paradise for Hell, hope here to taste/ Of pleasure, but all pleasure to destroy…other joy/ To me is lost.” He calls her “sovran mistress” and his use of this word sovran brings to mind when he previously called the fallen angels by this adjective as well. Not only is he everything despicable and filthy, but he’s also redundant… Ok, so then he describes his state when in her presence as: “I approach thee thus, and gaze/ Insatiate,” While flattering her with this adjective it also seems to represent in a way his defective view of all creation as desiring something insatiate. He talks about how the animals do not appreciate her beauty and are “shallow to discern half what in thee is fair”. He verbally notes also that she is appreciated by one man only when he says, “one man except/ Who sees thee? (and what is one?)” And he tells her she deserves and ought to be recognized as a goddess ceaselessly by a numberless amount of angels: “who shouldst be seen/ A Goddess among Gods, ador’d and serv’d/ By Angels numberless, thy daily Train.” By this point Eve does not seem to be entirely taken in by his cajoling but rather, astonished and intrigued that an animal has the power to talk. Satan continues to play on her pride, working on this as he’s already got her curiosity rather peaked. He goes further, placing her in equality with God Himself: “But all that fair and good in thy Divine/ Semblance, and in thy Beauty’s heav’nly Ray/ United I beheld; no Fair to thine/ Equivalent or second, which compell’d/ Mee thus…to come/ And gaze, and worship thee of right declar’d/ Sovran of Creatures, universal Dame."

After his praises in the physical aspect he moves on to talk of interior facets, in particular the ability to reason. He claims the fruit of the tree instilled in him a higher degree of reason: “Strange alteration in me, to degree/ Of Reason in my inward Powers,” Still unwary and amazed, Eve asks him to bring her to this tree but upon seeing it she recognizes it as the tree forbidden by God, saying, “Serpent, we might have spared our coming hither/ Fruitless to mee, though Fruit be here to excess…of this Tree we may not taste nor touch;/ God so commanded, and left that Command/ Sole Daughter of his voice; the rest, we live/ Law to ourselves, our Reason is our Law.” Basically, she’s stating that His command was revealed merely through a voice from Heaven and more of a revelation than an absolute direct command. She therefore mitigates God’s strict forbiddance to eat of the Tree of Knowledge and particularly notes her independence outside of this divine command, relying on her reasoning as law. Perhaps this is because of her interest and belief in the serpent’s story and because of a desire to partake in the fruit as well. Satan then claims that using the great power of the tree to reason he can scrutinize this questionable imposition and sympathize with man. He boldly questions the justice of God for inflicting death on His creation, saying “I feel thy Power/ …to trace the ways/ Of highest Agents deem’d however wise.” After presenting God’s command as questionable he goes on to claim it as completely untrue: “Queen of this Universe, do not believe/ Those rigid threats of Death; ye shall not Die.” He speaks of death as a trivial and vague thing, “the pain/ Of Death…whatever thing Death be”. He argues that God cannot therefore be a good or just God if He causes her to be inflicted with death or pain of any kind… (this always makes me think of the subject of suffering as expressed in the Wreck of the Deutschland). “God therefore cannot hurt ye, and be just;/ Not just, not God; not fear’d then, nor obeyed:/ Your fear itself of Death removes the fear.” He then concludes that the reason for God’s command to not eat of the fruit assuredly was to keep man in constant awe or fear, and in ignorance of true knowledge and from sharing in His divine power. He says “Why then was this forbid? Why but to awe,/ Why but to keep ye low and ignorant,/ His worshippers; he knows that in the day/ Ye Eat thereof, your Eyes/…shall perfectly be then/ Op’n’d and clear’d, and ye shall be as Gods” He finishes by entreating her to eat of the fruit: “Goddess humane, reach then, and freely taste.” His paradoxical name for her touches on the possibility of soon becoming god-like and is also a reminder of her mere and impaired humanity if she does not eat the fruit. 
I find it extremely hard in understanding Milton’s character of Satan… He’s complex, inhuman…just utterly void of life. Through his spite Satan causes Eve’s loss of salvation and hope because of his own dire loss of all salvation and hope. In using his deft guile Satan is too often successful in snaring unsuspecting or careless souls. Milton aptly relates the state of these two creatures that have fallen from the grace of God through the sin of pride, and to the strong tendency of modern man towards pride. As Eve was foolishly seduced through her vanity and naivety, Adam was quite un-involved in her protection and weakly convinced by her entreaties. This lack of Manliness on is part is equally matched by her degenerated role as Woman. Purity and Strength are a battle worth fighting for, and this story hopefully will serve solely as an example of what to personally avoid every.single.day. Eve’s false perception of herself as impaired, compared to the serpent, is ironical because her soul is pure and the serpent’s is not. It seems that overall Milton was trying to express a depiction of and his profound sorrow for a fallen humanity. It seems he is relating this knowledge of the origins of mankind’s fallen state to us so that mankind will fight to regain once again his Paradise lost.

"Hope is a little girl, nothing at all…

What surprises me, says God, is hope. 

And I can’t get over it. 

This little hope who seems like nothing at all. 

This little girl hope." - Peguy

Surf's Up

Spinning Away - Sugar Ray

the summer...is finally here!! i think my hair is about to fall out from all the saltwater, sand, and sun that has bleached and roughened it over the past few weeks. not to mention the amounts of sunblock that fail to protect my skin from the sun's relentless rays these days. i'm afraid i really am transforming into a regular habitual floridian beach bum. living on campus in the summer is definitely a breath of fresh air. of course it's even better when you're not taking classes, and only working part-time at night. here are some of my favorite beach bunny jams this summer. totally boss! ;D well... i'm out.. enjoy your chillaxing time in the sun while it lasts! the next few months are going to be dedicated to the sun, sand, water, de-stressing and quiet time, a few travel trips to see some special people, and then back down to the sun, sand, and water again (as it is all year round here in the Sunshine State!)

Litzsomania (Classixx Remix) - Phoenix

Closer to the Sun - Slightly Stoopid

Go Outside - Cults

White Sky - Vampire Weekend

Hot Air Balloon - Owl City

Swing Tree - Discovery

Feeling Alright - Rebelution

the glory, jest, and riddle of the world..

Know then thyself, presume not God to scan;

The proper study of mankind is Man.

Placed on this isthmus of a middle state,

A being darkly wise, and rudely great:

With too much knowledge for the Sceptic side,

With too much weakness for the Stoic's pride,

He hangs between; in doubt to act, or rest,

In doubt to deem himself a god, or beast;

In doubt his mind or body to prefer,

Born but to die, and reasoning but to err;

Alike in ignorance, his reason such,

Whether he thinks too little, or too much:

Chaos of thought and passion, all confused;

Still by himself abused, or disabused;

Created half to ride, and half to fall;

Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all;

Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurled:

The glory, jest, and riddle of the world! . . .

           you've heard the famous line "good nature and good sense must ever join; to err is human, to forgive divine"? just studying some Alexander Pope for our 18th century lit final exam coming up. An Essay on Man is one of my favorite's of his writings (next to The Rape of the Lock). I don't know why but whenever I read Pope it always gives me the urge to read some of Milton. Do they have similar styles in writing? or is it the context? Either way, I really like this essay on the incompleteness of mankind and his vulnerable dependency on the entirety of creation. Without the support of their existence he cannot subsist. Pope also goes on to express the dire importance of man searching for truth and happiness from internal sources, rather than external possessions, from which issues mankind's turbulent complaint derived from the faulty expectations of pride. Basically, once man dies to himself, once man loses himself in the Greater Gaze of a higher Being, then he will find himself. Noticeably, this philosophy is along the same lines as The Last Meditations. . . but so are all Christian literary works. If their message is true, then they all tell the same story obviously, the authors just go about expressing it in different ways.

See him from nature rising slow to art!

To copy instinct then was reason's part;

Thus then to man the voice of Nature spake--

'Go, from the creatures thy instructions take. . .

Here too all forms of social union find,

And hence let reason, late, instruct mankind. . .

               an interesting fact about poets and writers, is the number that suffered from physical or social disabilities. Robert Louis Stevenson and Alexander Pope are an ideal example of this category. What's amazing about the little, disfigured Pope is that even though he suffered from tuberculosis of the bone, asthma, was barely five feet tall, and wore a stiffened canvas bodice to support his severe hunchback, he is considered the epitome of neoclassicism...in England at least. I love the fact that he was close friends with Jonathan Switft, John Gay, Congreve, and Robert Harley, was entirely sweet-tempered and amiable, was super close to his pet dog Bounce, and was nicknamed for his beautifully melodious voice. What an interesting character. Sometimes I wonder what it was like to know a potentially famous writer.. what if I meet one in my lifetime? or what if I already know one? its something worth musing over, haha.

'Til superstition taught the tyrant awe,

Then shared the tyranny, then lent it aid,

And gods of conquerors, slaves of subjects made:

She, midst the lightning's blaze, and thunder's sound,

When rocked the mountains, and when groaned the ground,

She taught the weak to bend, the proud to pray,

To power unseen, and mightier far than they:

She, from the rending earth and bursting skies,

Saw gods descend and fiends infernal rise:

Here fixed the dreadful, there the blest abodes:

Fear made her devils, and weak hope her gods;

Gods partial, changeful, passionate, unjust,

Whose attributes were rage, revenge, or lust;

Such as the souls of cowards might conceive,

And, formed like tyrants, tyrants would believe.

the last meditations

my big sis handed me a little tiny book a couple weeks ago and said "argue with him...but read it." i've never argued with an author before, let alone argued with him and yet kept on reading his work fervently. i've been reading like one meditation a day, and its probably the most thought-provoking book i've ever read. J. Francis Stroud, S.J. says to "take each one of these meditations and carry it with you throughout your day. Challenge his ideas, mull over his thoughts, and then be silent." 
here's a quote that struck me today. i'll most likely be randomly putting down quotes from this book from time to time...


"What then is happiness? Very few people know and no one call tell you, because happiness cannot be described. Can you describe light to people who have been sitting in darkness all their lives? Can you describe reality to someone in a dream? Understand your darkness and it will vanish; then you will know what light is. Understand your nightmare for what it is and it will stop; then you will wake up to reality. Understand your false beliefs and they will drop; then you will know the taste of happiness.."



The Way To Love - The Last Meditations of Anthony De Mello.

tennessee whisky

out of nashville, tennessee. i miss their old lead vocalist, chris stapleton, (he did have an awesome beard...and that hat), but gary nichols is amazing as well. regardless i love to sing along to their soulful bluegrass songs.

midnight train to memphis - the steeldrivers

californian "folk punk" or not, its catchy american folk/blues and borderline bluegrass.

old number seven - the devil makes three

southern rock? black keys? murder by death is closely akin to both. good road trip music.

a second opinion - murder by death

'52 ford - murder by death

and an old school classic one that i love...

God's gonna cut you down - johnny cash

and some pics i took with the sibs when i visited home last weekend.

quick snap of joe's new truck