There is new overwhelming beauty to be found at every moment of this spring, it would seem.
I was leaning out over the railing off a friend's porch watching a beautiful Virginia sun set. You know the type...a light blue dusk sky being persuaded by the pink and purple companions of the sun to fade to a deep steel blue...only so much more than that. Then, beyond the "so much more" I was able to add the sense of belonging, joy, and love that comes from being surrounded by true friends.
Beautiful. So beautiful I could only breathe and try to take it in.
I was jarred from my reverie when a close friend of mine joined me at the rail. Knowing my fascination with words, and quite enjoying the sunset himself, he asked me how I would write what we were seeing down, how I, with words, would capture that moment.
Right when he asked....I realized that I would not. Even more, I realized that I could not.
Bummer, eh? NO! That's the crazy thing. The instant I knew that capturing such a perfect moment was impossible, I experienced such a beautiful freedom it was like flying.
Well, maybe not flying....but something equally exhilarating.
I love that I am incapable of capturing a sunset. I think that there is nothing quite like mankind's forever-disappointing inability to show how great God truly is. I have no idea what possessed me to want to be able to reproduce the Lord's handiwork, especially when I recall how many times I have been disappointed at various paintings' representations of various scenes in nature. It cannot be done to a satisfactory level...man's attempts will always be found wanting when set against the masterpiece that is God's creation.
The beauty in nature is so overwhelmingly fulfilling that I am constantly left paralyzed by it, stymied in my attempts to thoroughly take it in. I can, quite literally, do nothing other than sit and breathe and appreciate.
Contrast that feeling to that which is to be had when I'm looking at a painting of a sea scape or a mountainside...not one of complete disgust, but I am always left wanting more. I am always left dissatisfied.
Praise God for the fact that I cannot create what He has created. My being an equal in ability with the one who rules the universe would be disheartening indeed.
I'm not entirely certain that I've made sense tonight.
But I think I'm entitled to a bit of confusion.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Bottled Up
The nice thing about March is that it comes right after February.
There is a song by Paul Overstreet called "If I Could Bottle This Up." If you've heard it before, I will be shocked. Actually, I'll be shocked twice: once because you've heard an incredibly obscure and less-than-popular song, and again because "you" (i.e. a reader other than myself) actually exist...
...but about the song. It's a nice song, full of all that one would expect from a country artist in the 80's, twang and female backup vocals and, of course, refers to love. My guy Paul wants to bottle up the wonderful love from his sweetie, and then, in a less-romantic moment, schemes to turn around and sell that bottled up emotion, capitalizing on the world's desperate need for emotions that don't require Prozac, Cymbalta, or Paxil. Can you blame him, though? I mean, sure, he might do something a bit more noble than sell it but...to have a perfect moment captured? It would be to succeed at the task which every artist, poet, and musician strive for...
...it would be to satisfy my heart completely.
I am often overcome with the desire to capture moments. Today I was in my car, enjoying March, and thanking the Lord that he had sent this month in like a lamb as opposed to the lion. March is so incredibly refreshing after the dreary slush of February...it feels like jumping into a pool after you've become all pruny in an over-chemicaled hot tub, only much much better. Sublime bliss was mine as I drove through curved roads with one window down, inhaling the vivacity in the sweet warm air, listening to music just loud enough so that it seemed like the soundtrack to the movie that is my life. I took supreme pleasure in the way the dust sparkled and danced in the light that was streaming through the windshield, warming my skin...It's so frustrating, though, to only be able to tell you the components of the moment, and be entirely incapable of informing you how it affected me. The effect is so important...because it is really the sum of the moment. It is not exactly perfect, but it has an element of perfection in it...it is what I want to express, what I want to capture. My desire to do so is a desperate one, a need, an impression on my heart that I absolutely cannot shake and long to give to others. It is supreme satisfaction, contentment, joy, peace, and heart-swelling fullness. It can be felt in the very deepest parts of my soul, and every part of my body. I don't know enough words for it, but i so want to share it with you, and everyone I know...
Don't be mistaken and think that it is only car rides that leave me stumped in this way. Being in my backyard at home right at twilight, watching the sunset on Lake Michigan, an ideal gathering with friends or family...
As my most eloquent professor put it, it is the feeling and knowledge that I am exactly where I am supposed to be.
Someday I'll catch a moment, I'll put it to words, squeeze it into a frame....something.
I'll share it with you when I do. For now, I'll just go on feeling these moments as deeply as I do, and enjoying them on my own.
There is a song by Paul Overstreet called "If I Could Bottle This Up." If you've heard it before, I will be shocked. Actually, I'll be shocked twice: once because you've heard an incredibly obscure and less-than-popular song, and again because "you" (i.e. a reader other than myself) actually exist...
...but about the song. It's a nice song, full of all that one would expect from a country artist in the 80's, twang and female backup vocals and, of course, refers to love. My guy Paul wants to bottle up the wonderful love from his sweetie, and then, in a less-romantic moment, schemes to turn around and sell that bottled up emotion, capitalizing on the world's desperate need for emotions that don't require Prozac, Cymbalta, or Paxil. Can you blame him, though? I mean, sure, he might do something a bit more noble than sell it but...to have a perfect moment captured? It would be to succeed at the task which every artist, poet, and musician strive for...
...it would be to satisfy my heart completely.
I am often overcome with the desire to capture moments. Today I was in my car, enjoying March, and thanking the Lord that he had sent this month in like a lamb as opposed to the lion. March is so incredibly refreshing after the dreary slush of February...it feels like jumping into a pool after you've become all pruny in an over-chemicaled hot tub, only much much better. Sublime bliss was mine as I drove through curved roads with one window down, inhaling the vivacity in the sweet warm air, listening to music just loud enough so that it seemed like the soundtrack to the movie that is my life. I took supreme pleasure in the way the dust sparkled and danced in the light that was streaming through the windshield, warming my skin...It's so frustrating, though, to only be able to tell you the components of the moment, and be entirely incapable of informing you how it affected me. The effect is so important...because it is really the sum of the moment. It is not exactly perfect, but it has an element of perfection in it...it is what I want to express, what I want to capture. My desire to do so is a desperate one, a need, an impression on my heart that I absolutely cannot shake and long to give to others. It is supreme satisfaction, contentment, joy, peace, and heart-swelling fullness. It can be felt in the very deepest parts of my soul, and every part of my body. I don't know enough words for it, but i so want to share it with you, and everyone I know...
Don't be mistaken and think that it is only car rides that leave me stumped in this way. Being in my backyard at home right at twilight, watching the sunset on Lake Michigan, an ideal gathering with friends or family...
As my most eloquent professor put it, it is the feeling and knowledge that I am exactly where I am supposed to be.
Someday I'll catch a moment, I'll put it to words, squeeze it into a frame....something.
I'll share it with you when I do. For now, I'll just go on feeling these moments as deeply as I do, and enjoying them on my own.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
For Starters...
I've wanted to start a blog for awhile now. The problem with blogs is that they are supposed to have some central purpose or theme...at least, that's what I'm told. And the problem with central purposes is...well, I am incapable of them. When it comes within the context of one expected answer, I have never come up against a more difficult question than, "What are you passionate about?" As if everyone in the world is subject to having only one passion. I am passionate about a lot of things...and I'm capable of being passionate about almost everything. I am passionate about people, music, art, creativity, nature, the Lord...
...and writing.
Ah, there we go. Writing. Language. Literature. There's something for a blog, yes? Now, don't worry, I see the redundancy in writing about writing, but what I also see is the beauty and freedom and obvious necessity in having a space and a time when I focus on writing. As a college student, I do a lot of "writing." As an English major, I do even more of that "writing." When it comes to busting out papers, I am a factory with one of the most efficient production lines out there. However, that forced production doesn't really satisfy my writer's itch. As a matter of fact it kind of squelches the itch and thus, the joy, which is sad. So here I am, metaphorically scratching away. And here's the real beauty in endeavoring into my joy of writing: when I write, I can involve any and all of my other passions! So I have, then, a platform from which I can dive into all my various sources of enjoyment...and fully enjoy the dive.
Perhaps I am the only one who considers this a brilliantly perfect solution to fulfilling my desires. Perhaps not. Nonetheless, let it be considered that I have here established for myself a means of expression. I've an awful lot to express, you know. At some point I'll want to know just what I was thinking in college. Now I'll be able to know.
Peace and blessings.
...and writing.
Ah, there we go. Writing. Language. Literature. There's something for a blog, yes? Now, don't worry, I see the redundancy in writing about writing, but what I also see is the beauty and freedom and obvious necessity in having a space and a time when I focus on writing. As a college student, I do a lot of "writing." As an English major, I do even more of that "writing." When it comes to busting out papers, I am a factory with one of the most efficient production lines out there. However, that forced production doesn't really satisfy my writer's itch. As a matter of fact it kind of squelches the itch and thus, the joy, which is sad. So here I am, metaphorically scratching away. And here's the real beauty in endeavoring into my joy of writing: when I write, I can involve any and all of my other passions! So I have, then, a platform from which I can dive into all my various sources of enjoyment...and fully enjoy the dive.
Perhaps I am the only one who considers this a brilliantly perfect solution to fulfilling my desires. Perhaps not. Nonetheless, let it be considered that I have here established for myself a means of expression. I've an awful lot to express, you know. At some point I'll want to know just what I was thinking in college. Now I'll be able to know.
Peace and blessings.
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