Another Art Post

These works are drawn out of my favourites folder here.
Click the pictures to go to the original art pages.

Song of the Moment: Bliss- Muse

The Lake Seat

It’s the one place I go whenever I’m feeling either nostalgic or incredibly stressed out. I’ve been going here since I was little, and it will always carry a special place in my heart no matter where I go or what places I see. It is one place that I can simply forget what responsibilities weigh on my shoulders and to lose myself in the gentle lapping of water against stone.

It’s just a week before I leave home to make the 700-or-so mile trek to school. This time I’m feeling a bit sappy as I bike down Park St. heading northward. It’s a beautiful day today. The clear blue sky is only broken near the horizon by wispy cirrus clouds. The sun is warm against my back. The summer-flowering maples are putting forth the last of their perfume in short bursts of infinite sweetness that mingles with the smell of sun-warmed tar, gasoline exhaust and freshly mown grass.

After what seems like ages, but really isn’t, I arrive at the park. It really is The Park here; most people (except for those quite dense) will automatically know which one you are referring to. There are multiple entrances, but the place I want to go is near the middle of the park, not far from the lighthouse that draws most people. As always, I ride down the lane of tall white poplars, the wharf with screaming gulls is on one side and the barely moving river on the other. The river, which divides the centre of the park into a honeycomb of islands, is alluring, its surface covered with bright green lily-pads and shaded by gnarled weeping willows. But that is not where I am headed now. I am intent on the long and narrow quantity of man-made land jutting out into the lake under open sky. Seagulls are spurred into flight as I turn into the parking lot and take the sidewalk that leads to the end of this bit of land. The trees that separate the northernmost tip from the rest of the promontory create a little alcove that I highly suspect is a prime make-out locale. I wouldn’t know. I’ve only ever been there during the day. And I don’t remain under the trees, although I do leave my bike there.

I clamber over the enormous rocks surrounded by slightly smaller ones: the quarry rejects used to populate the shore here in the park. I have to pick my way carefully over the smaller ones that teeter slightly, but I’ve been doing this since I learned how to walk. It comes as second nature to me. I find a nice flat rock for a seat that glitter slightly in the sun. The surface is warm to my palms as I lean back and settle in. I let my feet dangle in the water despite its questionable colour. I can always take a shower when I get home. The water’s cool on my feet in contrast to the warmth of the stone against my legs. The undulation of the water tickles a little. Occasionally, the wake from a motorboat causes the water to come up a bit more aggressively upon the rocks, splashing up on my calves. The gulls scream constantly, their high pitched cries somewhat irritating, but after awhile I tend to tune them out. I notice a mallard and his mate paddling around near me and occasionally going bottoms-up for tidbits of food. I sit perfectly still, and they come almost within a foot of where I’m sitting. They’re so close that if I were quick enough I could catch them with just my hands. But I remain silent and stationary and they continue on past in their quest for food.

Out on the lake, sailboats dot the shimmering expanse of blue. We never could afford a sailboat, so we usually went out in out little fishing boat that had seen better days. In the later days of my childhood, it was better suited as an apartment complex for wolf spiders. It was rather clunky and uncouth in the water with its loud motor. Not so with these sailboats. They cut neatly through the water with their glittering white prows. Manoeuvring a sailboat requires much more skill than simply starting up an outboard motor and going. The wind has to be just right, and then you have to be able to use it to your advantage.

I watch the boats for a little while longer, savouring the peace and quiet. Then, I pull on my shoes over my still wet feet and get ready to head home. I know I won’t be back here for a long time. Next summer seems almost eons away. But I will be back again. I know that much, at least.

Song of the Moment: Salt of the Earth- Lovedrug

God Save The Queen

Black lines intersect across red canvas. White rubber

squeaks against the linoleum as I walk. The insides have

been worn to the point that they fit the bottoms of my

feet perfectly. The soles have holes in them that I studiously

ignore in the interest of my favourite pair of shoes. On the

tops of each foot, twin golden crowns gleam. These crowns are

temporal. They divulge golden disks over a vast expanse.

In the washing machine, on the way to class, in the coffeeshop,

and in multiple friends' cars they leave bright sequins like

alms. These bright red shoes define me. Sometimes people

recognise the shoes even before they recognise me. My soul

shines through the bold lines and vivid colours leaking their

glory across campus.

Song of the Moment: The Gravel Road- James Newton Howard

Photo of the Week:

Alicja by Aneta Kowalczyk

An Art Post

These are some of the more recent additions to my favourites folders on deviantART that I thought I would share with you all.

Song of the Moment: Miserere Mei Deus- Gregorio Allegri

Okay, so I suck at updating this thing. Which probably isn't much of a problem since I don't even think anyone reads this thing... Although, I can't even remember exactly the last time I updated a blog. I've just been really stressed lately. Not to mention a former friend of mine admitting to rape and having my roommate threaten to kill him slowly and painfully if he ever sets foot on campus while she's still here. Let's just say, it's been a pain in the butt end to a hard and difficult week that refuses to actually end. And I'm still trying to finish reading reaction papers and not fall asleep, not to mention the amazing attraction to procrastination right now. Oh yes, and my parents are en route to Jackson right now, and my disaster area of a room still needs to be cleaned. Argh.

Life would be much easier if I had the source code...

The Night That Changed My Life...

I was in Wright when it happened. I had been taking a short nap when the sirens went off. I quickly got up and pulled on the first clothes I saw which was a t-shirt and shorts. Then I just sat in the living room with my roommates and the people from the dorm above (which we hadn't met until then. What a bonding experience...) watching the TV to see whereabouts the tornado was headed. I just jokingly said, "Well, if the lights go, we'd better get in the bathroom." Well about 5 minutes later the lights DID go, and we heard a loud rushing sound. I thought that somehow my window was open, because it sounded like all of the things on my desk were being thrown around the room (later I realized it was the debris from the rest of the complexes). We were yelling for everybody to get in the bathroom. In just a couple seconds it was all over. Calls started filtering in from friends over campus, including one guy from Watters calling his girlfriend. We could hear screams in the background, and he was pretty scared. I kept calling my parents who were on the computer, and leaving panicked messages on the voicemail. I finally got a hold of them and told them everything I knew (which wasn't much), and asked them to pray and call everybody we know to pray. All of us pretty much sat in the sweltering bathroom waiting for the RA to come in and let us know if it was all right to come out. Finally the RA came pounding on the door telling us to get shoes on, we were being evacuated to White Hall. In my haste, I was only able to grab my pillow and a small blanket, and the shoes I grabbed were my dress shoes since they were the only slip on shoes I had. What follows is the hardest for me to remember, and will forever be burned into my memory.Since Wright is one of the furthest outlying buildings, I could see what had happened to Hurt right away. Sequestered in the bathroom, we had no idea of the magnitude of what had happened, so seeing that was a nasty shock. Although to me, shock is a weak word to describe it. We walked through a branch and glass strewn parking lot to the courtyard of McAfee, and that's when we saw Grey and Dodd. I will be forever grateful to the men and women who helped my roommate Brittany, by literally lifting her heavy motorized wheelchair over the debris from the destroyed wall of Dodd. It was then, when we had gotten out of the courtyard, that it really all hit me at once. I called my parents in hysterics on my roommate's cellphone at the sight of the BAC parking lot, which was re-located to the oak grove just a stone's throw from where the Dodd/Dehoney dumpster had once been. I walked past the ruins of Hurt that was lit by the emergency crews and the occasional eerie bolt of lightning. It was surreal, like something from a movie, or even a Dali painting. It was a long terrifying walk to White Hall, seeing every inch of the devastation, taking it all in without registering completely what had happened. We stayed in White Hall for a short while or a long while; it's hard to recall passage of time. They assessed injuries, had us write our name, phone, and room number on a piece of paper, read scripture, and sang hymns. Many of the people I saw there I had never been so happy to see in my life (I love you guys, but seriously this was beyond the Tuesday-Night-Tea-happy-to-see-you). Then they shuffled us off to the PAC, which was where I was able to re-unite with a majority of my friends (I have gained a new appreciation for my friends). Some idiot had the bright idea of yelling "There's another tornado coming!" while we were between the clock tower and the PAC, throwing everybody into a panic, screaming and running. Thanks. Thanks a lot.The rest of the night is kind of a blur. Walking back through the rubble and cars between Hurt and McAfee. Standing in the intramural field waiting for a ride to a safe place. Sitting in the SUV of the Nursing Dean's wife during the downpour. Going to the house of a Union alumnus, across the street from the house of our driver. Taking a glorious shower after finding myself covered with dirt and a blood covered ankle from a blister that had rubbed raw. And finally things are coming to some sort of normality (if it can even be called that). It's been kind of a weird road to sanity. I've been going from forgetting the whole thing on purpose, to staring it right in the eye, purposely Googling articles on the disaster, sleeping until 3 in the afternoon in an attempt to forget, and reliving the whole thing from start to finish. But through this all, I'm just so thankful for God's grace and protection from start to finish. And even though I don't understand the how or the why, I have his peace that passes all understanding, and I know that we're going to get through this.

I Celebrate The Day- Relient K

And with this Christmas wish is missed

The point I could convey

If only I could find the words to say to let You know

How much You've touched my life because

Here is where You're finding me

In the exact same place as New Year's Eve

And from a lack of my persistency

We're less than half as close as I want to be

And the first time that You opened Your eyes

Did You realize that You would be my Savior?

And the first breath that left Your lips

Did You know that it would change this world forever?

And so this Christmas I'll compare

The things I felt in prior years

To what this midnight made so clear

That You have come to meet me here

To look back and think that

This baby would one day save me

In the hope that what You did

That you were born so I might really live

To look back and think that

This baby would one day save me

And the first time that You opened Your eyes

Did You realize that You would be my Savior?

And the first breath that left Your lips

Did you know that it would change this world forever?

And the first time that You opened Your eyes

Did You realize that You would be my Savior?

And the first breath that left Your lips

Did you know that it would change this world forever?

And I, I celebrate the day That You were born to die

So I could one day pray for You to save my life

Pray for You to save my life

Pray for You to save my life

Because Arron posted...

Albeit, 5 months ago...

Amazing to say, a lot has changed in the last 7 months. Well, they do say 7 is God's number, and he's been doing a lot of things lately. Although, there are a few things that I really need to hand over before things start to get ugly.

But over the summer I:

• Took a summer course at UW Fond du Lac
• Got another job on the night shift
• Endured the company of a horrible woman for the sake of witness
• Cared for some beautiful people who the world would consider ugly
• Started watching Monty Python and Doctor Who
• Got a B+ in aforementioned summer course
• Made friends with a couple fellow students
• Cultivated my relationship with my mum

For those of you who know me personally, I will gladly elaborate on any of these, but for now, that's all I'm going to say. To elaborate now would take AGES. Lol.