It's been a while since I blogged in. That last piece cost me a couple of night's sleep after I posted it. It felt too personal, too real to share in such a public place. I debated taking it off, but have left it for now. I have deep fears about "certain people" reading my vulnerable stuff because I can be intensely private about my feelings. I've heard from a few of you, said you liked it, but I just sort of freaked. I hate being found out. And worse yet, I do it to myself.
No theological topics tonight just a few thoughts and recommendations:
Saw Annette Bening's latest film...Being Julia. She is superb, and I loved the film because it revolved around - (gasp!) a woman over 40! It was refreshing to see a truly complex, robust female role. There's a bit I love when Julia, an esteemed actress in the West End, bemoans the matronly roles that middle-aged women get "Bugger all the playwrites. They're all men anyway." The film explores some interesting issues regarding the double standard for men and women when it comes to being "bad". Julia has an affair with a younger man and when she half-seriously suggests to a close friend that a play be written with that concept as the theme her friend replies, "Oh, you mean a farce." The film takes place in 1930s London, but things haven't changed much. Anyway, I am recommending the film, but obviously, if you can't stand immorality on film, don't watch this one. I've already given you one of the main plot lines. Enjoy!
Meet the Press with Tim Russert. On every Sunday. If you like current affairs and like to see quality journalism and some excellent interviews with significant political figures, this is one to watch. Besides, Tim Russert is just such a likeable guy, and I liked him even more after I read his memoir of his relationship with his dad, Big Russ and Me.
Garcia Lorca's Bodas de Sangre (Blood Wedding) is superbly done by Vanessa Redgrave and supporting cast (it's a play). I was sceptical about it being in English, but it is so well done, so powerful. It held true to what I envisioned when I read it. It's a tragedy, so if you're a sanguine and hate to deal with reality, don't watch -- untimely death happens. Wonderful use of colour and amazing staging.
The Guardian Weekly newspaper. Great summation of world events from three of the biggies (in addition to The Guardian itself): Washington Post, Le Monde, and the Observer. Paper format or you can check them out on-line. News junkies rejoice!
Barbara Ehrenreich's book, Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting by In America. From Publisher Weekly's review: "...Ehrenreich (Fear of Falling: The Inner Life of the Middle Class, etc.) turns her gimlet eye on the view from the workforce's bottom rung. Determined to find out how anyone could make ends meet on $7 an hour, she left behind her middle class life as a journalist except for $1000 in start-up funds, a car and her laptop computer to try to sustain herself as a low-skilled worker for a month at a time."
Lighter reading: Anne Lamott's latest, Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith. Not in at the library? Then try my (second) favourite childhood book, The Silly Book by Stoo Hample, http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/0763622567/qid=1119246869/sr=8-1/ref=pd_csp_1/103-6319156-5750243?v=glance&s=books&n=507846 . It went out-of-print for years but due to popular demand, it's now back in-print for another generation of silliness. Now, I bet you wanna know my FIRST favourite childhood book, right? The Tomten by Astrid Lindgren: http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/0698115910/qid=1119247071/sr=8-1/ref=sr_8_xs_ap_i1_xgl14/103-6319156-5750243?v=glance&s=books&n=507846 . (Sorry for the long links...I haven't taken the time to figure out how to do them slick-ly -- low geek factor right now). I always wanted to BE the Tomten..living outdoors in the Scandinavian countryside, being able to talk to animals in my own little language, protecting the family inside the cozy cabin without them ever seeing me, appearing by night, disappearing by day. :-)
That ought to do for tonight. If you watch or read any of my recommendations, let me know; I would love to hear what you think of them. Or pass along your own recs. I always find my best reading material through friends. Though, wait...and I am putting up my hands now, wait, wait: there is one exception to this that I relish mentioning. That Mitford book...the first one. Several people recommended Karon's first book to me, so I tried to read it. Not once, but THREE times. And I HATED it every time I tried. And I do say tried, as I never could get past around page 125. People whose opinions I respect and trust told me they thought this was a good read, but I simply could not, could not get what they saw in it. If you'd like to weigh in on this one, please feel free, though you will never convince me to go for a fourth attempt at such a dowdy, banal book. When you have a dog drooling on a man's shoe as your opening scene shouldn't that shout -- low quality! -- to any reasonable reader. Apparently not. I now sniff and thumb my nose and throw my head high....
Goodnight! ;-)
20 June, 2005
07 June, 2005
things that go bump
Sometimes you know you're in for a weird day just by the way you wake up. I forced myself out of a deep sleep this morning when I realised I was giving Lara Spencer (of Antiques Rdshow and some rubbish gossip show on tv) tips on healthy living. I hope she remembers to eat plenty of cruciferous vegetables this week.
Summer of 1999 I was invited to Lake Powell with some boating enthusiasts from my church. It was two weeks of gorgeous sunsets, sleeping on the roof of the houseboat, water play, and sea doo's - my absolute favourite toy on that vacation. Having grown up owning motorcycles and liking the words full throttle, I decided to get on one of those things as often as I could to explore the miles and miles of canyon. Between races with my friends and wake jumping, we found some serene, wee spaces. One in particular was like a small oasis with a shallow sandy beach and warm red rock to walk around on. All of it, a tranquil inner fold in the enormous body of the canyon itself. I could have stayed there for hours. I was fascinated with the quality of sound and how my voice found its way out to the sandstone walls and then came back to me in patterns, clear but not harsh, still sounding familiar, but having a nearly transcendent, intimate quality. It reminded me of being in the underground, choral area of a convent I visited in Guatemala once and how the acoustic effect of the rounded, enclosed room made my quiet singing voice completely fill the atmosphere; it felt as if you could almost touch it, it was so close.
I had a similar experience today which ties in to what I was writing about in the chump and bump section (see previous post)... It feels a bit personal, but I want to share it because it seems pertinent to what I was getting at in that blog....
Everyone was out of the house for a few hours this morning, so per the advice of a dear friend, I got out my guitar (she knows how it helps me muddle through stuff I can't understand....like unemployment, familial imbroglio, the unanswerables of the faith), and I just started to play a intuitive, rambling sort of ellenspiece. These are meditations, a lot like pieces in Taize worship, where there are long, reflective repetitions of melodies and verses. I have written reams of lyrics to fragmented songs over the years, and I like just picking out a few at a time and trying them from any musical angle I feel like. I had the lines: You are Good. You are Great. None like You, coursing through my mind, so I went over and over them, smoothing down the courseness in my soul.
The strangest thing began to happen as I repeated those verses, and I feel a little sheepish saying this in a public place, but I began to hear those words, repeated back to me, directed at me. You are good. You are great. None like you. And just as my voice had skipped away from me in the canyons of Lake Powell and had returned to me transformed as a closer, nearer voice, so I heard God, my Nearest One, in the echo saying the same to me. I couldn't imagine it... I really couldn't. I felt like a heretic...How could God be saying these things, that I have just said in reverence, respect, and love...back to me? He's the only one who deserves to hear stuff like that, right?
I gotta be honest, I felt like the Grinch when his heart grows 10 sizes all at once and that crazy smile breaks out on his face. What the freakin heck could this mean? Does He really read my blog and all that stuff I wrote about Him thinking we are good? Could He possibly agree with what I wrote? Could there be a connection between Him being All Goodness, Love, and Light and how we are -- ontologically --, ones who are created in His Image? Could He possibly say these things to me and mean it?!!!
Stunned and incredulous, I just sat on the couch, trembling. Could God really think so highly, so warmly, so lover-ly of me? I don't have words to explain why or elegant theology to "prove it", but, yes, I do believe He does. Cut from the same cloth as Him, child of his desiring, I find the mirror I have craved, the echo I long for has a voice of its own, and it is trustworthy.
Summer of 1999 I was invited to Lake Powell with some boating enthusiasts from my church. It was two weeks of gorgeous sunsets, sleeping on the roof of the houseboat, water play, and sea doo's - my absolute favourite toy on that vacation. Having grown up owning motorcycles and liking the words full throttle, I decided to get on one of those things as often as I could to explore the miles and miles of canyon. Between races with my friends and wake jumping, we found some serene, wee spaces. One in particular was like a small oasis with a shallow sandy beach and warm red rock to walk around on. All of it, a tranquil inner fold in the enormous body of the canyon itself. I could have stayed there for hours. I was fascinated with the quality of sound and how my voice found its way out to the sandstone walls and then came back to me in patterns, clear but not harsh, still sounding familiar, but having a nearly transcendent, intimate quality. It reminded me of being in the underground, choral area of a convent I visited in Guatemala once and how the acoustic effect of the rounded, enclosed room made my quiet singing voice completely fill the atmosphere; it felt as if you could almost touch it, it was so close.
I had a similar experience today which ties in to what I was writing about in the chump and bump section (see previous post)... It feels a bit personal, but I want to share it because it seems pertinent to what I was getting at in that blog....
Everyone was out of the house for a few hours this morning, so per the advice of a dear friend, I got out my guitar (she knows how it helps me muddle through stuff I can't understand....like unemployment, familial imbroglio, the unanswerables of the faith), and I just started to play a intuitive, rambling sort of ellenspiece. These are meditations, a lot like pieces in Taize worship, where there are long, reflective repetitions of melodies and verses. I have written reams of lyrics to fragmented songs over the years, and I like just picking out a few at a time and trying them from any musical angle I feel like. I had the lines: You are Good. You are Great. None like You, coursing through my mind, so I went over and over them, smoothing down the courseness in my soul.
The strangest thing began to happen as I repeated those verses, and I feel a little sheepish saying this in a public place, but I began to hear those words, repeated back to me, directed at me. You are good. You are great. None like you. And just as my voice had skipped away from me in the canyons of Lake Powell and had returned to me transformed as a closer, nearer voice, so I heard God, my Nearest One, in the echo saying the same to me. I couldn't imagine it... I really couldn't. I felt like a heretic...How could God be saying these things, that I have just said in reverence, respect, and love...back to me? He's the only one who deserves to hear stuff like that, right?
I gotta be honest, I felt like the Grinch when his heart grows 10 sizes all at once and that crazy smile breaks out on his face. What the freakin heck could this mean? Does He really read my blog and all that stuff I wrote about Him thinking we are good? Could He possibly agree with what I wrote? Could there be a connection between Him being All Goodness, Love, and Light and how we are -- ontologically --, ones who are created in His Image? Could He possibly say these things to me and mean it?!!!
Stunned and incredulous, I just sat on the couch, trembling. Could God really think so highly, so warmly, so lover-ly of me? I don't have words to explain why or elegant theology to "prove it", but, yes, I do believe He does. Cut from the same cloth as Him, child of his desiring, I find the mirror I have craved, the echo I long for has a voice of its own, and it is trustworthy.
02 June, 2005
as if your life depended on it!
Okay, I'll get right on that!
Hey, another special find at Engrish.com . I couldn't resist brightening your day with this! Have a good one and remember, before you plunge into making dinner tonight, MARINATE!
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