Ramblings. It's because I like to write.

Showing posts with label My Thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My Thoughts. Show all posts

Friday, April 8, 2011

Film. Real Film.



Patrick is on one of his kicks. He's really into lomography, and he's teaching me about it too. So he gave me a plastic camera, and is teaching me about how film works. Real Film.













We've had a lot of fun, so far, with only more on the way.

The thing about film, is that it is only affected when the light touches it.

Patrick, the very silly man, is in the habit of leaving his lens cap on while taking pictures.

But the darkness can't make a picture happen. The film is still waiting for light to
touch it. If you don't advance the film after taking a picture in darkness, the film will
still be good to use later.

I think it's cool how no amount of darkness can ruin the film,
but once the light touches it, it will never be the same.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Someone Died

I'm not sure quite what to say. But writing (typing) is always a good idea.

Somebody who went to my school was killed last Friday in a freak accident involving a runaway parked car. I didn't know him very well. At all. I didn't even know his last name until after his death. But I do know that he was close to some of my good friends. I can't imagine how much they are hurting right now.

At this point I would like to say something very profound about death:
...

... ... ...

I don't know. It's hard to find meaning in this thing that nobody expected. He was here one day and gone the next. One minute he was busy impacting the world...and then the next minute he was crushed by a car. Those who loved him will never see him again. Those who would've loved him will never have the chance.

I can't help but feel some kind of sick relief. Relief that if a teenager had to die in Des Moines...that it wasn't mine. That it wasn't MY best friend. That it wasn't MY lover. I hate myself for thinking this, because I know that for some people, that's exactly what Logan was. Someone special. Someone essential. Someone irreplacable.

When I met him (it was only in February), I had no idea that he would be gone in just a few short months. He didn't look like a doomed teenager. He didn't stick out to me as special...except that he was particularly good at cello and that he had a big smile on his face. But there was no evidence that he would die. No otherworldly premonition. Nothing in his eyes that made me suspect that he was anything other than one of us. Forever.

Maybe he will be one of us forever. After all, he is in my little Central Academy yearbook. Among all the other vivacious young teenagers I barely knew. One by one they will all cease to be people and start to be memories. And that's what Logan is right now: a memory.

I don't have too many memories of him. But I'll always remember his face, his smile. I'll remember that he had amazing talent and an amazing presence and that it wasn't fair the way he was taken. It could've happened to any of us. It's just not fair.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Le Petit Prince






In Antoine de Saint-Exupery's popular children's novel, a young prince from a small planet falls in love with a flower. He thought it was the most unique and beautiful thing in the world, so he loved it.



When I read the book, I thought it was beyond the realm of silly. The prince was a person, and the flower was a flower. It's one thing to draw a sheep in a box, but it's quite another to be in love with an inanimate object.



But then I saw this rose.

And now I think I understand.


It just goes to show: Don't judge anyone else's love.



I don't know whose point I'm trying to prove with this.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

I Love Music!!!!

Why I chose to major in Music Education

One of those college entrance essay things.

Enjoy!



It is 8:30 on a Friday evening. First Semester finals just ended. Most of my friends are out together having fun, but I've been in my bedroom practicing the same two measures for the past twenty minutes. Why did Handel's trumpet piece have to be so difficult? Why do I need the fast Locrian runs to feel so flowing and effortless, when I am doing all I can just to keep filling my lungs with air and keep blood flowing to my frantic fingers? Why did I decide that I needed to spend hours a day practicing my trumpet instead of doing something...useful?



I take a moment to remember what has brought me to this point.



When I was in eighth grade, my Civics teacher, Mrs. Dunley, told me that with my test scores I was fit to be ruler of the universe (remember that? And some people were destined to become ship captains...lol. She was nuts). Knowing that I wanted to change the world someday, I decided that I would grow up to be a politician. This was not an unrealistic goal for me, since my interest in Mock Trial led me to contemplate a future in law school. However, as the years went by and I moved through high school, I grew skeptical of Politics. If the face of Humanity is going to change, it is going to change from the inside, not from the top. (Here's an article that helped me come to that conclusion. click here Totally worth the read)



I have always loved music. I was singing songs as soon as I learned to talk, and I jumped at the chance to join band in fifth grade. Right now it is my goal to become a music educator and performer. Music, especially my high school music program, has done so much for me. I know that if i can help provide music to youth for the rest of my life, I will be able to change the world.



Although I have always loved singing, playing my trumpet, composing, and performing, I was hesitant to become a music major. There were several sources of fear and uncertainty. Music is such a competitive field; I was worried that I would never be good enough. Also, it is difficult to find steady work as a performer, and jobs are scarce even for educators. I was very worried about making a living and my parents were quite concerned about my finacial security. Success in music requires an excess of discipline, knowledge, skill, heart, and inpiration. I eventually decided that the benefits of studying music outweigh the risks, and now I am willing to do whatever it takes to have a career in music, because I know that I would never be able to give it up. I knew that no matter what I chose for my career there would always be the fear of failure. Since I am so passionate about music, the fear is slowly becoming irrelevant. I am proud to be entering college as a Music Education major, and I know that no matter what happens to me in the future, I will be glad that I made that choice.



why is music so important? Humans are trapped inside of themselves. Technology forces us into seemingly efficient yet grossly inexpressive ways of communicating. In a world with an increasingly globablized economy, communication barriers are being broken down right and left, yet the individual remains isolated unless he has some way to relate to his past, his society, and his emotions. Music is that vehicle. Music forces us to be expressive; to not just speak, but to lesten, to understand, and to feel. Music frees us from our inner prisons and helps us to truly experience life, so that we are more than just robots.



Hopefully, with the skills that I've been developing over the past eight years and with the skills and experience I will gain from UNI, I will become effective with my trumpet performance so that I can help listeners connect to society. It is my aim to help other musicians to do the same. There is nothing better than helping and watching someone else grow.



Now it is 8:55 on that same Friday night. I turn off my metronome and do one last run through of the final movement to the Handel piece. The notes flow out of my horn like a cascading waterfall. Each note seems to have a life of its own. I get chills. This is what it is all about. This is what I have decided to dedicate my to.



Over the years my teachers have encouraged me to do great things in the fields of science, math, law and politics (.......maybe not math. or science. hehehehe...), but I decided that I want to change the world, so I decided to major in Music Education. Music has changed my life, and I hope that through my future performance and teaching, I can change others' lives as well.

Monday, July 14, 2008

My Prayer

my thoughts on a quiet bus ride across Iowa:

Don't let me forget who I am
And how I got here
And let me pull through
Bring me to the place
Where I need no comfort
Or safety
Because everything I need
Is in you.

Help me find a way
To show these people
What really matters, Bo
And show them how much I love them
And help me to love myself
Maintain the slightest bit of dignity
But throw my silly self-perception out the door
and away.

Don't let me forget who I am
And everything I've been through
Show me how to leave my comfort zone
Show me how to be
The perfect servant
And what you intended for me
Thank you for the music
That brought me here
And keeps me here
Tying me back to my past
And driving me towards my future
Let the music show me
Who I really am.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

A memory

So there I was
Stuck
Inside a gumball machine
Not knowing why I was in there
Not caring if I ever could get out
I was a happy kid
Not even three years old
There were gumballs
All so brightly colored
And I was happy.

I looked out at the world
And smiled
And laughed
Because my brothers were freaking out
How to get her out?
But I smiled.

I didn't realize it was candy
Until it started to get sticky
Really sticky
I put one in my mouth
I was not used
To the consistency
They'd never let me have gum
before
So I started choking on it
I wasn't even three yet.

Luckily I did not stay
In the gumball machine
Forever.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Alright...Alright...

I know you've all been on the edge of your seats since my post this morning...*cough, no one's read it yet, cough*...

I thought I'd let you know that I've given it a lot of thought and I've decided not to give up on music. One friend of mine tried to convince me that playing in tune isn't really that important after all...I could start a new kind of musical movement! Another friend told me that I have too much potential to give up now.

Than I remembered something that the former mock trial captain told me in my time of distress:

"When you care enough about something you work hard and find a way."


This quote isn't the wittiest, most inspirational out there, but it's simple, straightforward, and so true.

It may seem like it'll never work out.
But I care about music so much.
I guess I can keep trying.
At least for a while...

I'll find a way.

Monday, April 7, 2008

Anticlimaticism

The one true religion/life-philosophy...probably not so much a religion.

climax-a thrilling event that changes the course of your life. the high point of action in a novel. or something like that.

We believe in an eternity.
We believe that everything that is happening has happened before.
We believe that exterior forces will not cause you to change your life.
We believe that you cannot change yourself from within.

Life is a series of quests. When you complete one you move on to the next--a smooth transition.

Ever since the beginning of time all the forces in the universe have been building up to a certain event, but due to the heat death of the universe, that event will never happen.
The universe will never suffer its heat death
At least not wile we're around

So what happens to us when we die? We go to heaven, of course! And gosh knows nothing new will happen once we're there.

So if you don't experience climax in this life, you sure as hell won't get it in the next one.

So, what's so great about climax anyway?
The universe is always changing, always building up, so we have both everything and nothing to look forward to.

My life is anticlimatic.
Is yours?

up next: climaticism---the gospel!!!

Friday, December 28, 2007

1:11AM

Last night I was awake past midnight. At around one o'clock I remembered that somebody told me once that if you stayed awake until 1:11, you could make a wish. I decided that that's exactly what I would do.
At 1:10, I began to panic. If you're going to make a wish, you have to have a wish in mind. But I was drawing a blank. I was almost there, but then the clock turned, and it was 1:11.
A million things went through my mind. I made wishes for myself. I made wishes for my friends. I made wishes for material things. I made wishes for abstract things. I wished to fix the world, for the world not to be broken anymore.

The very last thing that went through my mind before the clock turned to 1:12 was, "I wish for God to be on my side."

What does that even mean?

God doesn't move. He won't move. He's everywhere all the time, he's unchanging, unchangable...and he's got his plan.
If anything, I should be wishing to for myself to be on God's side.
What does that take?
Is it something that you need to wish for?

And why am I so reluctant?

Friday, October 26, 2007

Rhymes with Sad: The Story of my Plaid.


Once upon a time I woned a plaid jacket. It wasn't really a jacket, just a heavy man's shirt. But I used it for more than I've ever used any other garment in my life.


I got it on Thanksgiving in 2006. We were going to go for a walk around Gray's Lake and my Dad was worried that I was going to be cold. At the time I was prety anti-jacket and I kept telling him that I would be fine.


Anyway, Dad didn't want me to be cold so he brought out one of his old plaid shirts for me to wear. It was plaid on the outside with some weird, cold, smooth material on the inside...I don't know what to call it, but it was dark blue. Anyway, once I put on the jacket I fell in love with it. For some reason it just made me feel beautiful. Maybe it was just because deep down I felt really touched that my Dad had given it to me.


From Thanksgiving on, the plaid and I were inseperable. I wore it whenever I could get away with wearing it. Not even just when i was cold, but all the time. I think I even slept in it a couple of times.


So the days roll on...when February comes I'm forced to think about the physical status of the thing...it's got holes in it. The holes were always there, but now they're getting bigger. Buttons have fallen off. There are so many imperfections in the fabric that I can tell that I am going to have to throw it away soon, or watch it slowly destroy itself. My beloved plaid jacket: reduced to mere rags. But I couldn't bear to throw it away. Never. I needed a miracle.


One night I'm wearing it at one of my band concerts, over my uniform. I know that I can't wear it onstage so right before we go on I take it off and put it on a bench. I'll be able to find it after the concert. I know I will.


What happens next is the most magical part of the whole story. To the unbeliever it might seem as if a custodian had seen the rag of a thing sitting so near to a trashcan and thrown it away, assuming it was trash. Mayhaps that is what happened. I wouldn't blame anyone for assuming that thing was trash. But it's more likely that my plaid jacket pulled an Elijah: taken straight up into heaven without ever having to die. Personally, I like to think that it was taken to the lost and found, where someone else found it and made it their own, having just as much fun with it as I did. If my plaid can make someone else happy than it was worth losing it.


It's the mystery of the story that I like best. All I know is that when I cam back for it, it wasn't there. I'll never know what exactly happened to it, which is much better than having to finally bring myself to throw it away after it falls apart. I compare the story to that of Marilyn Monroe. She died young, in a mysterious way, so that she would remain young forever in our memories.


Sometimes I still miss my plaid jacket, but I was never sad about it being gone. I'll always have the memories.

Monday, October 1, 2007

Witnessing Doesn't Work

So we're Christians, right? We believe in Christ, and now we know our next job: to spread the word. Spread the word of Christ to all the nonbelievers.
And that's hard.
But it also doesn't work.

I only say this because it is the title of my blog entry. But let me explain how I came to this opinion.

Today after school I was talking to a very good friend of mine who happened to be carrying around a book about Wicca. A christian guy at my school that I know asked her if she was Wiccan. She said no. He asked her if she believed in Heaven and Hell. She said that she believed in Heaven, not so much Hell. He asked her that if she died tomorrow, where would she go, heaven or hell. She said she didn't know.

And here's the thing. She was appalled by his behaviour! I think she saw it as a personal attack on her. I have another good friend that was trying to tell her that she had to pray a special prayer to get into heaven. I think she misunderstood this as well. She thought that we were trying to force weird beliefs on her.

I didn't know what to say. I could've used this as an opportunity to try to witness to her, or see where she stands with the whole religion thing, but after hearing her tell about those two experiences with christians that I know, I had no idea how to approach it.

Now I have questions for you, reader. And by that I mean Patrick. I'm not trying to make a point or looking for a specific answer. I just don't know.

-What's more important about witnessing: that you are preaching the word of God to them whether they accept it or not, or that you are listening to them and trying to make sense out of their beliefs, even if it means not saying everything that you want to drive your own point home?

-Did you think that that was a really long confusing question?

-How would you, readers, talk to my friend in this situation (assuming that all my readers are chistian)?

-Is there a point when you decide to stop driving your point and just decide to let it go?


In my opinion, witnessing is the hardest part of Christianity. The hardest part is when you're so emotionally attached to one of you're friends and they can't understand the very most important part of your life.

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

What I Want: Destiny

It seems like even when fate is working in my favor I can still manage to screw everything up. If destiny is the force that brings me towards what I want, than what is the force that keeps stalling? Is it my own screwiness? If that is so, than I am worried, for if a force assmall as I can change the course of even one destiny, than destiny is hardly something even to put hope in. But maybe all that is frustrating me is just a small part of a larger destiny, more flexible yet immovable: one that not even my screwiness will be able to screw up. I'll just have to trust that somehow, someday, all of these horrible frustrations will resolve themselves into something beautiful. Am I a hopeless romantic for thinking so? Unfortunately, that "beautiful" thing is probably not the thing that I am hoping for presently. I could sit here pouting about that fact, or I could accept that the stuff I deal with now is just temporary, but anything good that comes out of this mess, that beautiful thing I am waiting for, will last at least a bit longer. Maybe even forever.

I believe that the force behind all this "destiny", which is hocus-pocus talk, is God. He is orchestrating my life so that I'm always learning and always having opportunities to become a better person. I pray for what I want, but even than I know that it's silly. I, comparatively, have no idea what I want. God knows what I want today, wanted yesturday, and will want tomorrow. He knows what's best for me. The best prayers that I can pray ar that I would be willing to accept whatever he deems fit, and that my screwiness wouldn't ge in his way.

That's what I really want.