Elaine finds it hard to get to sleep at a decent hour when Gary insists on “working the red carpet” every night before getting into bed.
This current post from catalogliving.com made me think of KimHill. Can you figure it why? heehee
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Catalog Living
Elaine finds it hard to get to sleep at a decent hour when Gary insists on “working the red carpet” every night before getting into bed.
This current post from catalogliving.com made me think of KimHill. Can you figure it why? heehee
Saturday, February 19, 2011
It Might Get Loud
I know that I've blogged about music before. And I am completely aware that I've blogged about documentaries. But I can't help it; I love them both. And today I found the perfect combination of both...
It Might Get Loud is a documentary that was advertised as being about the electric guitar. I was interested. Then I found out that it starred Jimmy Paige, The Edge and Jack White. I was thrilled. I settled into my favorite armchair with a glass of water and a handful of M&M's. Then I paused it to get my headphones since I have such loud children...and headphones in my ears are their sign to leave me alone.
It was outrageous! I loved it! Nothing draws happiness out of me as much as music. And I have always loved Led Zeppelin and U2. The White Stripes are a newer fave addition to my playlist. To see all of the guitarists together and to hear their back stories was really fun.
All I could think while I was watching it was how great it would be to watch it with Brendan. After all, he's still a musician, and the first time he ever heard Led Zeppelin and U2 was from Chris and I. I remember teaching him to sing some of the songs when he was barely two. Seems like yesterday. Maybe when he's home we can find a couple of hours to watch it together. In the mean time, I think I'll write him and tell him about it.
It Might Get Loud is a documentary that was advertised as being about the electric guitar. I was interested. Then I found out that it starred Jimmy Paige, The Edge and Jack White. I was thrilled. I settled into my favorite armchair with a glass of water and a handful of M&M's. Then I paused it to get my headphones since I have such loud children...and headphones in my ears are their sign to leave me alone.
It was outrageous! I loved it! Nothing draws happiness out of me as much as music. And I have always loved Led Zeppelin and U2. The White Stripes are a newer fave addition to my playlist. To see all of the guitarists together and to hear their back stories was really fun.
All I could think while I was watching it was how great it would be to watch it with Brendan. After all, he's still a musician, and the first time he ever heard Led Zeppelin and U2 was from Chris and I. I remember teaching him to sing some of the songs when he was barely two. Seems like yesterday. Maybe when he's home we can find a couple of hours to watch it together. In the mean time, I think I'll write him and tell him about it.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Is Resistance Futile?
Only those familiar with the repercussions of mental illness will understand this, I am sure. It almost doesn't make sense to me. Will my mother always affect me this way?
-------------------
Like a ghost.
A dream almost remembered,
niggling at the edges of consciousness.
Like a word on the tip of the tongue.
A splinter festering in the finger.
Shadow, fear, always there.
Like an ancient worry stone,
turned over and over.
Rubbed gently over time.
Familiar, yet repugnant.
Run from it. Yesterday.
Ignore it. Today.
Pretend it doesn't exist. Now.
Bone deep surety, inevitability.
Resist, resist, resist.
Nothing is written in stone.
Will the reality of my mother ever leave me be?
Or will I wrestle with her every day for the rest of my life?
Weary.
Tired.
Done.
...
Faith.
Is God really good?
Ruthless trust.
Cling. Hope. Tenacious faith.
Please be real.
-------------------------------------------
I do not call this poetry. I don't know what I call this. Stream of consciousness, maybe? Incoherent babbling of a raving lunatic? Grieving of an abandoned child? All I know is that it helps to get it out of my head.
-------------------
Like a ghost.
A dream almost remembered,
niggling at the edges of consciousness.
Like a word on the tip of the tongue.
A splinter festering in the finger.
Shadow, fear, always there.
Like an ancient worry stone,
turned over and over.
Rubbed gently over time.
Familiar, yet repugnant.
Run from it. Yesterday.
Ignore it. Today.
Pretend it doesn't exist. Now.
Bone deep surety, inevitability.
Resist, resist, resist.
Nothing is written in stone.
Will the reality of my mother ever leave me be?
Or will I wrestle with her every day for the rest of my life?
Weary.
Tired.
Done.
...
Faith.
Is God really good?
Ruthless trust.
Cling. Hope. Tenacious faith.
Please be real.
-------------------------------------------
I do not call this poetry. I don't know what I call this. Stream of consciousness, maybe? Incoherent babbling of a raving lunatic? Grieving of an abandoned child? All I know is that it helps to get it out of my head.
Sunday, February 06, 2011
White Oleander
I watched the movie White Oleander yesterday. I thought it was a really good movie. I watched it based on the cast. Renee Zellweger, Michelle Pfeiffer, Robin Wright. I hoped it would be good, and it was.
Of course there were certain aspects of the film that I did not like. Robin Wright's character used Born Again Christianity as a crutch which is what many in the world boil Christianity down to. That part was sad to me. I'm absolutely positive that many "christians" do use it as a crutch; but I know I don't. I know I have surity that God is real. Christ is real and his sacrifice was real.
But there were moments in the movie that were very poignant. The main character's relationship with her mother was thought provoking, the way it shows how closely a mother and daughter are intertwined. Even when one or both of them are "profoundly broken." (a phrase directly from the movie)
The last lines of the movie made me think of my own mother.
“Even so, I find myself thinking of her, wanting to feel that wind. It’s a secret wanting… like a song I can’t stop humming. Or loving someone you can never have.
No matter how much she has damaged me… No matter how flawed she is…
I know my mother loves me.”
Of course there were certain aspects of the film that I did not like. Robin Wright's character used Born Again Christianity as a crutch which is what many in the world boil Christianity down to. That part was sad to me. I'm absolutely positive that many "christians" do use it as a crutch; but I know I don't. I know I have surity that God is real. Christ is real and his sacrifice was real.
But there were moments in the movie that were very poignant. The main character's relationship with her mother was thought provoking, the way it shows how closely a mother and daughter are intertwined. Even when one or both of them are "profoundly broken." (a phrase directly from the movie)
The last lines of the movie made me think of my own mother.
“Even so, I find myself thinking of her, wanting to feel that wind. It’s a secret wanting… like a song I can’t stop humming. Or loving someone you can never have.
No matter how much she has damaged me… No matter how flawed she is…
I know my mother loves me.”
Wow. I think that says what I think most of the time when it comes to my mother.
Good movie. Very little bad language. Very few sexual situations. But it had the feeling of being very real, which made it more than a little sad at times. The ending was good though. I hate sad endings.
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