Best line I read this week: A mango, thought Peter, a perfect weapon. (from Peter and the Shadow Thieves by Dave Berry)
Currently listening to: Better by Regina Spektor
Proof: a few nights ago, my phone began talking to me at random. I was replying to an email. Singing along with Feist. Then suddenly I heard:
"Say a command."
I stopped typing. I glanced down to my side.
It spoke again. "Say a command."
I leaned down close to the phone and said, "Hush."
I tapped the screen with my fingernail. "Stop that. Go back to the music."
"Say a command."
And we went back and forth like this for some time. My poor searching emo phone never found what it was looking for in the way of my commands. Perhaps its my taste in music that makes it so moody? Ben Gibbard and Iron and Wine and Christy Nockles put me in a soul searching kind of place too. (I will master technology yet, I tell you.)
Tonight I'm giving my phone time to search in silence while I listen to the rain, and my trusty old iTunes, and catch up on reading your blogs. I've noticed several of you are taking finals and heading home for the summer. Lindsey finishes up high school this weekend (confetti! :). Jessica is about to leave for the Ukraine. Wifeandman are headed to Romania. Jenny is going to Scotland. It's all so exciting. I wish we could have a big party to celebrate your summer adventures.
In the way of fun summer travels I am going to ... wait for it ... Georgia. :) And yet, I am not jealous of your European castles, your all night rides on the Eurorail, or the life changing epiphanies you'll have in the piazza. I am not jealous because, once I get to the farm, I have my very own storm trooper:
My nephew is adorable, no? :) I would like to point out that picture was taken at 6 AM. He's a morning person just like his mom. It amazes me when people can form coherent sentences before noon.
I've also been reading some Madeleine L'Engle tonight. Earlier this week, I was reading a bit from A Ring of Endless Light (one of my all time favorite summer novels ... I pull it down often to re-read the parts I like the most :). The problem with Madeleine L'Engle is that once I read any small snippet of her work I have to read more. My mom gave me several books of Ms. L'Engle's poetry when I was in college so that's usually where I turn. One of my favorites is a poem about David. It's beautiful to read in silence; The words wrap around your imagination in really pretty ways. It's fabulous for reading aloud because the words sound like fireworks when they hit the air. I thought I would post it on here for your rainy day enjoyment. Let me know what you think of it.
David by Madeleine L'Engle (originally from a collection of poetry called The Weather of the Heart)
Your altar smelled of the slaughter house.
The innocent eyes of tender beasts
Lost in confusions of laws and vows
Was the high price paid to you for feasts.
They had to be men of iron your priests.
And so did I, born but to sing,
To tend the lambs and not to kill.
Why, my Lord, did you have to bring
Me down from the safety of my hill
Into the danger of your will?
I learned to fight, I learned to sin,
I battled demon, fought with lust;
When you were on my side I'd win.
My appetites I could not trust.
I only knew your wrath was just.
What I desired I went and stole.
I had to fight against my son.
You bound my wounds and made me whole
Despite the wrong that I had done.
I turned from you and tried to run.
You took me, also, by the hair
And brought me back before your altar
You terrified me with your care.
Against your rage, I could but falter
You changed me, but refused to alter.
So I grew old, but there remained
within me still the singing boy.
I stripped and sang. My wife complained.
Yet all my ill did I destroy
Dancing before you in our joy.
My God, my God, is it not meet
That I should shout and sing and roar,
Leap to your ark with loving feet?
I praise the, hallow, and adore,
And play before thee evermore.
My favorite line is when she writes, "You changed me; but refused to alter." It reminds me of one of my favorite Shakespeare blurbs ("Love is not love that alters when it alteration finds." Wah!). The alter/altar play reminds me of a John Donne poem that I don't feel like looking up. It's the one where he keeps saying something like, "Thou hast done, thou hast not done." The poem was a bit of a play on his name? Ring any bells? (Zing!)* I'm en route to Cade's Cove with my brother tomorrow. Hopefully, I'll have some awesome pictures of mountains, pretty clouds, and bears (oh my!) to show you next week. What's happening with you this summer?
* This joke is so nerdy and lame, I feel the need to explain it. John Donne said, "Ask not for whom the bell tolls..." (Kevin Eubanks, everyone!)
At least I think it was him. If it was somebody else, my bad joke just got a whole lot worse :)