Good/Evil; Truth/Lies,

Good and Evil. Truth and Lies. Light and Dark. Love and Hate. Dreams and Reality. (Did you notice... the "good" things are always listed first... which means reality sucks).

So, I am writing on this blog because I promised a sermon at least once a week. And, it's been a week since I've written one. But, this isn't so much a sermon. In fact, it really should be on my other blog... and I will probably post it there as well as here just to get adequate readers of this post.

Anyway, I have been thinking today and tonight and the past 10 years or more about how so many things in life have two sides - and you can't have one without the other. You can't have light without dark. You can't have good without evil. You can't have love without hate. You have to have the opposite for the one to mean anything.

God is good (in theory). This would make Satan evil. The Bible is truth (theoretically). This would make anything that disagrees with the Bible, a lie. This is how the books of the Bible were selected. I watched a television documentary the other night on recently found books which were left out of the Bible. Some of these were written by other disciples (or about them). For example, there has been found the Gospel of Judas. Now, as we all know, Judas is the one who betrayed Jesus. However, according to this Gospel, Jesus actually requested this betrayal from Judas. Jesus had to sacrifice himself for our sins, and therefore asked his friend to do help him. This goes against all the other Gospels... the "real" gospels. Therefore, it is heresy and cannot be in the Bible.

Don't get me wrong. I don't believe the Gospels we know are lies. Matthew, Mark, Luke, John - all the other disciples would have seen Judas as the betrayer. They would have seen this as truth. But why can't it be possible that Judas' account happened? If it was done in secret - which it would have had to be for it to work - the other disciples wouldn't have known. Therefore, all accounts would be truth.

How can conflicting details both be truth? Because truth is subjective.It is in the eye of the beholder. This is the same with good and evil. In some cultures, cheating on your spouse isn't "bad". Killing someone isn't "bad." Granted, yes, these are sins in the eyes of God... but if you aren't Christian, you can only go by what your religion (or culture) tells you is good and bad, and these won't always agree with the rules of Christianity.

And it isn't only that. It can also simply be the difference in interpretation between an action someone does, and who they do that action against. Suppose you push someone off the boat in the middle of the sea and drive away. You might think you're doing it for this person's own good, to teach that person how to swim on her own. This person, on the other hand, hates you. It doesn't matter if she makes it or not. It doesn't matter if she learns to swim or not. Your perceived good act is an evil act in her eyes. Too dramatic? Ok, say you made a promise to always be there for someone, then walked away. You might see this as not a big deal... nothing bad. It's not your responsibility and you simply don't have time for this someone. It isn't so much that you think what you've done is good... you just don't see it as bad. Or, don't bother thinking about it at all. But have you ever considered looking at it from the other side? Everything has two sides. Always. There are always two truths. Two lies.

Light and dark. Light is truth and goodness. It's God. It's heaven. It's life and salvation. And it couldn't exist with dark - without evil. Without death and the thought of eternal torment. And yet, we have both of these living within our world, and ourselves. Not one of us exists without both this light and this darkness. Now, it is simply a matter of which you are seeking. Which do you actively pursue?

Bubble Wrap

 About a month ago, I was given one of the most thoughtful gifts I've ever received. It wasn't flowers, or jewelry. It wasn't anything electronic, or anything edible. No photos or books or movies or anything similar. It was bubble wrap.

Yes, that's right... bubble wrap. A large box, approximately 8 cubic feet, filled with bubble wrap.

Bubble Wrap - Up Close and Personal

Bubble wrap is cheap therapy. It's the type of therapy that works for all ages. I don't know of anyone between the ages of 2 and 200 that doesn't like bubble wrap. I do, however, know my dog isn't too fond of it....

So, what can we do with bubble wrap?

Pop it!

Pop!

Wring it like a wet rag and get tons of Pop! Pop! Pop!s

popopopopopopopopopopopopop! :)

Dress up your stuffed animals:

Ain't I so adorable?

Dress up yourself!

Little Bubble-Wrap Riding Hood?

Almost resembles a nun in quiet bubble-wrapped reverence

Bubble Wrap diapers - Better than Huggies!

Bubble Wrap bikini - the swimwear that leaves no tan lines!

And now, I've found a very fun craft that can be done with bubblewrap! This craft is very messy and time consuming, but oh so very cool...

Hi! I'm a Bubble-wrap injected cross!

And I'm a bubble wrap injected heart :)

 COLOR INJECTED BUBBLES!

Aren't they so totally cool!?! All it is... water with food coloring injected into each bubble. That's it. Simple. And oh so totally cool!

So there you have it. Why spend hundreds or thousands of dollars on "professional" therapy when all you need is one thoughtful friend to provide you with a box of bubble wrap?

Rooms

Dr. House: Are you going to base your whole life on who you're stuck in a room with?
Eve the Patient: I'm going to base this moment on who I am stuck in a room with! It's what life is. It's a series of rooms, and who we get stuck in those rooms with, adds up to what our lives are. ("One Day, One Room")

Last night I watched 8 hours of "House." Generally, while it's a good show, I don't really get into it. I can watch an episode or two... but not 8 hours. Dr. House tends to eventually get on a person's nerves. Nevertheless, I did watch it last night, and I saw an episode I have seen a few times before but had never really paid attention to. Last night, it really captured my attention, though.

For those who haven't seen it, the episode is in Season 3, and is called "One Day, One Room." Spoiler alert: A young woman comes into the clinic to be tested for STD's. House realizes the young lady has been raped, and tries to get out of treating her. But, she will only be seen/treated by him, and even tries to kill herself in an attempt to get his attention so he'll agree to help her/talk to her. It works. And from that point on, they have a constant struggle... House doesn't want to be there, Eve (the young woman) won't see anyone else; House wants her to tell him what happened, Eve just wants to talk about anything else; House thinks she should get an abortion, Eve insists she can't because abortion is murder and murder is a sin; and the list of conflicts goes on. And yet, they continue to have this relationship - this bickering back and forth.

This dialogue between the two of them is what caught my attention - particularly the lines above regarding life being a series of rooms.

"It's what life is. It's a series of rooms, and who we get stuck in those rooms with, adds up to what our lives are."

Who would you want to be stuck in a room with? Of course, we generally don't get to choose who we get stuck in a room with. But, such as the case with the woman in the episode, sometimes you can choose. And you're going to want to be stuck in that room with people who help you, those who build you up rather than tear you down. For her, she wanted House in that room with her - she knew there was a pain within him that was similar to her own, and believed that he was what was best for her at that given time.

But, on the same hand, sometimes we need to be stuck in a room with those who need our help. There are those whom we can help build up. There are those who need us for at least a moment - "one day, one room."

And what about those times when we don't get to choose? We get tossed in a room with people who don't seem to care, who hurt us and want to tear us down. We need to make the most of these times. We need to offer our prayers and love and take the opportunity to show God's love to these people. We need to welcome these moments and these people into the room with us. Every person, every moment, every room has the potential to make our life better and more fulfilling. They also have the potential of making our lives more miserable and painful. It's all in what we choose to do with these moments, these people, these rooms.

It's also important to note that who we are stuck with in one room may not be the same as the next room. How many of us have had people we love, those who've changed our lives for the better, those who've helped us out when we needed them in that moment, only to have them leave the next day (or month)? It hurts, but when someone is stuck in a room with us who makes such an impact, while they may no longer be in the room in the future, the memories they bring and the love they give and the lessons they teach - those shape who we become. This is the same for those who bring us pain - but this shouldn't be looked on as a bad thing. All lessons and memories, whether good or bad, shape us. It is up to us how we let those memories shape us - do they mold us into something jagged and ugly, or do they turn us into something softer, more lovely and loving?

With all I have been through in my life, I can honestly say that I appreciate every room I've been in, and every person I have been stuck with in those rooms. No, they haven't all been good rooms or good people. There have been dungeons and abusive masters. There have been deep dark wells, where the only person in the room is myself. But, these dungeons and dark wells have shaped who I am today, for better or worse, and have been instrumental in teaching me how to live and love.

Eve: [discussing abortion] Every life is sacred.
Dr. Gregory House: Oh, talk to me! Don't quote bumper-stickers! 

Dr. House, upon finding out Eve was pregnant from her rapist, tries to talk her into abortion. She is very adamant that she can't have the abortion because it's against God. But this is her only argument. She doesn't go much further than saying "every life is sacred." House's reply is a reply I have often had when it comes to religion. "Don't quote bumper-stickers!" Belief in God shouldn't be just a bumper sticker. You shouldn't just quote religion or the Bible. You need to feel it. You need to know it and believe what you're saying. You need to explain, at least to yourself, why life is sacred, and why abortion shouldn't happen - and not just from a medical standpoint. What does it all mean to you?

Just telling me "God loves you" isn't always enough. I sang "Jesus loves me" in Sunday School. On a good day, I know God loves me. But on a bad day... on a day when I'm depressed and hurting, tell me why. Why does he love me? How does he love me? Why should I believe it? Don't just quote a bumper sticker.


There are many other quotes from this one episode which are thought provoking...

On dealing with pain:

Eve: Time changes everything.
Dr. Gregory House: That's what people say, it's not true. Doing things changes things. Not doing things leaves things exactly as they were.

On judging others:

Dr. Gregory House: I'm wearing a rumpled shirt and I forgot to brush my hair this week. You have Athlete's Foot in your nose. I'm ready to be judged.

On how to help someone going through a traumatic experience:

Dr. Wilson: Tell her the truth.
Dr. Allison Cameron: [Cut to Cameron] Tell her your life has been good.
Dr. Gregory House: It hasn't been.
Dr. Allison Cameron: Tell her anyway. She wants hope. She wants to know that what happened to her wasn't the norm. Things can be okay, which means maybe they can be okay for her again.
Dr. Eric Foreman: [Cut to Foreman] Tell her your life sucked.
Dr. Gregory House: It didn't.
Dr. Eric Foreman: Tell her anyway. She wants to know she's not alone. She wants to know she's gonna survive this, that other people have been through this and worse and come out the other end. She wants to know she's gonna heal. Act like... you healed.
Dr. Robert Chase: [Cut to Chase] Tell her... Keep her asleep.
Dr. Gregory House: Thanks. You've all been a huge help.

Not really helpful...I just like this one:

House: I'm evil.
Eve: Evil people don't say they're evil.
House: That sounds like an easy loophole.

Just a good quote on mankind:

House: We are selfish based animals crawling across the earth, but 'cause we've got brains, if we try really hard, we can usually aspire to something that is less than pure evil.

Again, just another one I like. But, it is a good one on where to put your focus when helping someone:

Eve: Do you think the guy who did this to me feels bad?
House: That'll help you? It'll make you feel better?
Eve: Why do you always do that? Ask why I'm asking questions instead of just answering the question?
House: Because the answer doesn't interest me. I don't care what he's feeling. I'm interested in what you're feeling.

Salvation

“Honestly God, I didn’t mean it!” Katarina raised her eyes to the heavens, shaking her head. Blonde strands came free from where she’d tucked them behind her ears, flowing over her bared shoulders.

She emptied the bottle into her hand, and stared at the dozens of tiny white pills as she reached blindly for the bottle of cheap whiskey. Her fingers connecting with the uncapped bottle, she brought it to her lips, her face scrunching as the cool drink burned down her throat.

Oh how those tiny little white specks in her hand looked so good. How many times had she been here before – sitting in a corner, no tears to be found, clutching something that she knew could put an end to the pain. She couldn’t remember a time when some form of abuse wasn’t the main theme of any particular chapter in her life. As a baby, she was neglected while her parents got drunk. As a young child, she was raped by her daycare worker. As an older child, she was introduced to physical abuse so horrifying it took her years to talk about it. And then she got married. She thought that was her escape. She was wrong.

She shifted her position on the floor, wincing in pain. Her backside felt as though it were on fire. She shook her head, dumping all but one of the pills back into the pill bottle. She placed the kept one on her tongue, and with a deep breath, swallowed it down with a long sip of amber liquid. Had she known life was going to go back to how it once was – a way she had thought was gone for good – she would have taken the pills or whiskey before he came home.

And all because she went to church. She was violated and bruised because she went to church. Or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say it was because she smiled at someone at church. She wasn’t quite certain. He didn’t exactly take the time to tell her much more than “you stupid slut,” and “I’ll make sure no man or god wants you, not that any do anyway.”

She was used to his words, but lately they had gotten much worse. Nothing she did or said was right. Nothing she felt was right. At one point she had, in error, told God she’d rather be physically assaulted than deal with this emotional and verbal abuse anymore. As she shifted again, and tucked the strand of loose hair back behind her ear, her hand accidentally brushing against a fresh bruise on her jaw, she realized she hadn’t meant that prayer.

She took another long swig of whiskey.

She wished she knew someone who could help her, who could help her find courage. She had someone once. Of course, she could never have told him about what had just happened to her. It wasn’t something you discussed with anyone. And even if she had the strength to tell him, he had already abandoned her anyway.

She opened the pill bottle again, slipping another white pill out, and swallowing it down with a swig of whiskey.

Why did the good ones always abandon her? She felt a tear start to escape her eye, and quickly brushed it away. Of course, there had only been maybe two or three good ones. She reminded herself that this time it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t technically even his fault. His wife got a new job in a new town, and he had no choice – he had to go with her. She felt a twinge of envy as she thought about this – a man who let his wife make the decisions… a man who loved his wife so much, he didn’t care about his own desires. He only cared that she be happy. Oh how Katarina wished she had found a man like that. How she wished she had found this man before his wife had, or before she’d found her husband.

A noise pulled her from her thoughts, a glass shattering on the wall just above her head and an onslaught of cussing pulled her head up. She watched as he stormed out the door, still cursing her. She watched as drops of blood dripped onto the floor, a shard of glass having sliced her arm. She watched as what little hope was left slid out of sight. She picked up the bottle of pills again. She opened them. And she didn’t allow herself to think another thought as she finished off the whiskey bottle and lay down to sleep.

Meaningless Ramblings?

Several years ago, I began a journal - the journal of the Devil's Child. Devil's Child was one of my online names, and one whom had a very particular personality. While she has continued to exist, her voice was replaced, and I began writing my Meaningless Ramblings of a Madwoman. These ramblings consisted of several different voices, but the madwoman was the most common. Then these ramblings were replaced with the Darkside of the Rose babblings - which are rather mundane in my opinion when compared to the Devil's Child and the Madwoman.

Anyway, when you place the best of these writings together, they make up what I consider to be a rather interesting philosophy/psychology. For this reason, I have decided to put together the best of these writings into a book. I am not foolish enough to believe it will actually sell - and I may not even actually sell it. But, I am going to work on putting it together, editing it, giving it some rhyme or reason.

This said... I shall now post just a taste of the writings of the Devil's Child... and a nibble of the writings of the Madwoman...

Excerpt from "Hunger" (Devil's Child writing): 

This need grows stronger every day. I feel if I must live with it another moment I will wither away, back to the fire from which I was born. To understand why I live in this endless torment you must be me. You must walk behind the dark one. You must surrender your soul to the beast. I do not typically regret the decisions I have made, except for now. I am hungry. I need him. Lust is too mild of a word to describe the feeling coursing through my body; through my blackened soul. When I first tasted him, I became one with him. I need him more than I need food or water. I need him in every way and every form. I need to taste him; I need to feel his blood pulsating around me, and in me. I have always been in control of my victims. I have always pulled away before the need for only one came to be. But I have erred and now I die in this hell I have allowed myself to be drawn into.

I never imagined hell could be so cold. Or so lonely. Although I am still toying with my new prey, it is a game void of joy. My mind is still fixated on someone from the past--someone who cannot be of the human race. Men are so simple minded, so easy to play, so effortless a prey. But not him. Not the ‘man’ whom my body and soul craves. Not the ‘man’ whom, dare I say, my heart needs. I fear he has played me. He has beaten me at my own game. My tears stain my cheeks with the blood I miss.

The Mind (Madwoman writing):

Walking through the halls of my mind...such a tempting place this is, the rooms all decorated in different styles and colors, ghosts haunting every corner, every shadow, candle light burning brighter in certain areas while others remain hidden in darkness. Care to walk with me? To get a grand tour of this castle in my head? Then close yours eyes and walk with me. But beware. Once you are inside, you may never leave, unless I choose to throw you out. This is my home, and the home of the voices that keep me from being lonely - from going insane.

Such a complex place of twists and turns and bends, each leading to somewhere and yet nowhere at the same time - each thought edged in darkness even if in the light. If you listen you can hear the voices, hear them speaking to me. Some give words of encouragement, some whisper of lust and fantasy, some whisper of the dark place that is off limits to all but me. But tonight, just this once, let me take you to that dark place. Let me show you where I live and love - the place my passion, both of hatred and desire, builds and grows and dies and is reborn. This place, with cold stone walls and chains upon the walls, this is my room, my life, my dreams and fears and everything combined.

Close your eyes and reach out your hands, can you feel it, the cold steel locking around your wrists, raising your arms above your head? Can you feel the cold stone pressing against you? Hear the whispers in your ear. One voice making your blood curdle, the next making it sing. The same actions, the same words, wrapped up in the complex notion of two worlds. One makes you scream in fear, one makes you scream in pleasure. Things that should be wrong feel so right at times, cause an ache in your gut, a hardness that nothing can cure.

This place is heaven and hell combined into one wondrous world that only the chosen ones are now allowed to enter. This is the place of dark fantasies that you have only imagined. This is the place where I sacrifice my every belief and become what is desired, what will ease the ache if only a little. This is where I draw you in and hold you and use you until you can no longer satisfy my. This is where I taste you and drink from you, and allow you the same privileges from me. And once here, this is where you shall remain, even once I've released you. In your own mind you'll find yourself visiting the memories until the day you die.

Little Green Dot

You sit there, nervously watching that little green dot. It's there. Will it do anything? Will it say anything? Do you want it to? Well of course you don't. You hate that little green dot. Or love it. You're not quite certain. Perhaps it's a little of both. More one than the other some days, but all days, you know which truly wins. You hide. And check again. It's still there, mocking you, teasing, waiting to see if you'll do anything. Waiting to see if you'll show the lack of strength and courage you truly have. You're too scared to blink - one blink and it might disappear. You're too scared to speak to it - one wrong word, or perhaps any word at all, will cause it to disappear.

This silly little green dot. This sweet, special, irritating green dot. Such a brat. You've told your hopes and dreams to this dot. You've told your fears. This little green dot has seen your tears and your laughter; has heard the worst of you, seen the best of you, been given the most of you, and destroyed the whole of you. And now here it is winking at you.

You pray it doesn't disappear. You hope it does disappear. You fear its presence and the inevitable lack of presence. You long to hear its words, to feel its touch, to know it's there. But it doesn't say a word. It doesn't even realize you exist anymore. This unfeeling little green dot lingers without a worry, unknowing of your fear and need and desire and pain.

Sex on the Brain

My morning seems to be filled with little mentions and quotes on sex (sadly, just mentions and quotes). So, this has me thinking on the subject. And, my thoughts are bouncing every which way (just as the context in which sex has been seen and heard this morning). 

"You can't ruin a friendship with sex. That's like trying to ruin ice cream with chocolate sprinkles." (Raj; The Big Bang Theory)

How many of us have turned someone down because "I don't want to ruin our friendship"? I've done it. And I've heard the classic response of "yeah, it's much better to sleep with an enemy" which is always delivered with a good amount of sarcasm.

I have two thoughts on this overused "I don't want to ruin our friendship" comment. First - sometimes it is indeed said because well, quite frankly, there is just no physical attraction. And second - sometimes it is said because we really don't want to ruin a friendship. If the relationship fails (the one created when sex is introduced), then quite often the friendship dies as well. If I love someone dearly as a friend, relying on that friendship, enjoying it... why would I want to risk the possibility of ruining it? Of course, in thinking this way, we've already come to the conclusion that the relationship is going to fail.

Moving on...

I was reading one of those stupid celebrity magazines this morning, and they were talking about how some star was out at a resort. This isn't a direct quote (getting a direct quote would require me getting off my ass, and finding the magazine/article again), but essentially, they were talking about how instead of drinking, this star was engaging in a much healthier means of dealing with her stress - she was having sex with multiple men half her age....

.....

Uh...

Ok, granted, drinking to excess is not healthy. Drinking in any capacity may not be healthy. And using it as a means of escaping stress/life is definitely not good. But sex?

Using sex to escape your problems is something that is done quite often, and can lead to sex addiction. Granted, it doesn't hold some of the same dangers (i.e. you can screw someone's brains out, then get behind the wheel without too much concern of an accident), but it can still be dangerous (i.e. never have sex while driving). And, having multiple partners increases the dangers posed by sex.

I find it rather disconcerting that we're so accepting of sex. We brush it off as if it's just some casual activity. Having multiple partners, making out with several guys, quickies at parties, extramarital affairs, sex without love - these are all common occurrences within our society, and treated with as much care and concern as going shopping, or walking the dog, or having a cup of coffee.

Maybe I'm old fashioned (or, just old), but sex is something that should be given after love. It shouldn't be a means to attract someone, or keep someone. It shouldn't be used as a means of overcoming boredom or low self-esteem. It shouldn't be used as pain relief or self injury.

With how nonchalant people are towards sex, I'm surprised anyone gets hit with the "you're too good a friend" line anymore. But those who do - you're probably the lucky ones.

More Sketches

I've always been absolutely horrible at drawing people, so I've been trying to put in a little time tonight working on that. So, the first two are drawings of women (I'll draw a male next time). They aren't too good... but they're better than I usually do. One is done by looking at a photo of me... my husband says my drawing looks like a zombie though :(  But, that's a better response than he usually gives.

The last one is just something I drew for the heck of it... because I like hugs from some people...

 And now, as it's 2am almost, I shall attempt to fall asleep. Good night sweet world.

Sketches!

I'm beginning to run low on canvases (one blank one, and one that needs to be painted over)... so I decided to try my hand at drawing again. I've done this before... in fact, I have several drawings tucked away somewhere. I'll have to dig them out and post some on here some day. BUT for now... I thought I'd share the ones I sketched today. Some are good... some, yeah, not so good... one I refuse to even post because it's so completely horrible.

Anyway, without any further ado, my sketches......

One of my favorites... I impress myself sometimes :)

Ok, the woman is really really bad... but I like the eye and lips on the right... (note, this was just a few doodles on one sheet of paper)

Another I impressed myself with... needs some work, but didn't turn out half bad.

Just some more rambling...

Good evening ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the halls of my mind.... (I'm really sorry you got stuck in here... but don't worry... it isn't that frightening... usually... sometimes... maybe....)

Anyway, a few days ago I messed up my back (again) and therefore am essentially confined to my bed/heating pad at the moment (which sucks), and so I have very little to do other than write, or waste my brain cells watching television, or paint. Well, I already painted and watched tv (NCIS... 3 or 4 episodes). And, I did do a little writing, but felt like doing more. Therefore... Hello! :)

First... my painting!

It's a little blurry cuz of my camera, but oh well. You get the general idea of what it looks like.

And, for those wonderfully fun friends of mine that enjoy reading a short story... I posted part two of "Welcome Home" over at the garden. Make sure you read the first part first (although, it's a bit slow):
Part 1
Part 2

Those beautiful short stories not your cup of tea? Perhaps you'd prefer a rather short sermon. Head on over the Sermons from a Psycho to read my latest:
Water (pt 2) and Affirmation

That sermon should have been much longer, but after having been interrupted 3 or 4 times while writing it, I finally completely lost my thought process. But, it does link to a prior sermon I had written regarding water which, in my opinion, wasn't completely awful.

Speaking of being interrupted though... why do people completely ignore and avoid me... right until I start to write? It really is quite annoying. I watched 3 episodes of NCIS without a single person speaking to me (other than myself... but I'm allowed). But holy heckles in a handsaw, I start writing and "mom?"... "Brandi?"..."Yo biatch!?". I'm going to seriously start putting ghost chili sauce in people's beverages.

And now, Mr. Obsessed is messing with fish again. I hate fish. Although, my 12 baby mollies are getting huge! AND... I have 4 itty bitty baby Mickey Mouse Platy's. Well, 4 in a separate tank, and 2 that we left in with the mama (kinda hoping mama eats them like she did the other 3 or 4 or more).

But anyway, I'm still getting interrupted (why oh why oh why must we move baby fish into a different 1 gallon tank???) and my thought process has run away, and therefore I shall stop rambling for now.

Relief

relief

from pain
stress
life
reality

just one

its all
that's needed
wanted

relief

from desire
dreams
heartache
love

just one

its all
that's needed
wanted

relief

so sweet
precious
craved
relief

just one

it's all
that's needed
wanted

Bring the Darkness Back to Me

Bring the darkness back to me
The darkness that was stolen
Ripped away from me
Overtaken by a strange light
A strange warmth
An unwanted pain of knowing
understanding

Bring the darkness back to me
With all its comfort
It's familiar sweetness
It's familiar chaos

The voices cry out in agony
in mourning
for the loss of this cold blanket
surrounding my heart and soul

The voices whisper screams
of defeat
of need for this cold blanket
which wrapped me in quiet surrender

Bring the darkness back to me
Put out this flame
That burns bright and painful
blinding my eyes from what is real
Searing my soul from what should be

The voices breath upon this candle
in desperation
in need to smother this light
which threatens to keep
this cold blanket from wrapping
itself around me again

I am a child of this darkness
A child whose home has been
Ripped from me without thought
Without consideration
Without sympathy or permission

Bring the darkness back to me

Sometimes You Have to Wonder

Or maybe it's just me that feels the need to wonder?

But what exactly is being wondered?

Ah, this is a difficult thing to articulate, particularly here, and particularly now. It is something I have wondered for a while, but have chosen not to voice such wondering. It is something that is best not wondered, or asked. It is something best left unsaid and unasked.

And so why do I mention it here at all?

Because I can. Because this is my new blank canvas. Well, perhaps not new as I've had it for a few years now. But new in the sense that recently I have utilized other forms of blank canvas, a different canvas of which I believe is no longer available to me. Gone. Disappeared. Run dry, or run out, or simply no longer exists.

But this makes me wonder.

Did it ever exist? Did I ever truly have this blank canvas which held such an importance to me? Which still holds such an importance to me? If it did not, why did it feel like I did? And, why didn't it really exist? And if it did exist, why doesn't it any longer? Was it something I did that made this canvas run out? Did I utilize it too often? Perhaps my fingers spilled too much paint upon it - too many dark and dreary colors, or too often swapping between dark and dreams or colorfully odd colors, or just painted too much upon that canvas. Or perhaps the canvas simply never wanted to be painted upon by me. Or perhaps it wanted it too much and was frightened of this desire for both the dark and colorful.

Ah, how sometimes we wonder futilely. So pointless to ponder as the answers shall never be upon us. And therefore, I stop my pondering, my wondering, my quest for understanding of this nonexistent canvas.

Still Painting (part 2)

Ok, so spent most of the day painting (again). The painting I previously mentioned as not being sure if it was done or not? Well, I decided it's done for now. Not good, but done...

The one that yesterday had been just a background... it's now a (not so) lovely lake in the moonlight... or at sunset... or something...

And then I decided to paint a new one.... this one came to me at about 1am after staring at the blank canvas for hours. But, didn't start it until this morning, right before church....(note: it's really not quite this bright in reality)...

And that's it. Not my best work.

Still Painting

When the ability to write flies out the window... paint. :)

I have started 5 canvases... managed to finish 2 of those, have a third which will be getting painted over, one is so far just a background, and the last one might be finished. I haven't decided yet.

Therefore, I am only posting the two finished paintings at this time....

And now... I'm off to do something else. Or paint something else. Or write something else. Or maybe shower. Should really do that as I am leaving for a basketball game soon.

:)