contemplation

she’s amelia earhart and jane goodall and joan jett all rolled into one. 
she’s really great to work with and amazing. she doesn’t like the light of the business we call ‘show.’ she stays hidden, and that’s where she likes it. but she’s an amazing collaborator, and i feel like sometimes i have a map in my pocket that folds up and i pull it out and it’s bigger than the table, and there’s 1,000 places to go with her.
 tom watts on his wife and songwriting partner, kathleen brennan 



I would love to hear Somewhere describe me like this. "Amelia. Jane. Joan." What a mixture. :)

This week has been about as quiet as this blog.  Some and I have both been being "wooed", for lack of a better word, by our Savior. The house hasn't been perfectly clean, but, there has been a lot of peaceful, still moments.  We've definitely crossed a bridge. The cool spring breezes have been cleansing the air and our souls. It's been one of the best weeks of my life lately. :)

Source: longestacres.blogspot.com via Allison on Pinterest

Place Courage

Titus 2:3-4

English Standard Version (ESV) BibleGateway.com

³  Older women likewise are to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much wine. They are to teach what is good, ⁴ and so train the young women to love their husbands and children,

Lately, I've been surrounded by a group of encouraging women.  There are a few guys, but, for the most part, it's been women. They lived out these words.  Don't get your panties in a knot either over how it's to teach them to love their husbands and children.  It's not saying "don't encourage the single." Calm down. They aren't all old ladies either.  They are older, but not old. They are a certain number of people whom my heart smiles to see.  These dears have been reaching out to me.  I see them finding the good in me.  I soak it up like warm sunshine.  These are ladies who remind me constantly that I am loved, cherished by my Savior, beautiful, creative and intelligent.  This may sound like the world's most self-centered post ever, but, it's one that's been on my heart.  I can't tell you how much their words have meant to me.  I get kind of surprised by love.  

Psalm 139:14 (ESV, Biblegateway.com)
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. 

 I find nothing wrong in remembering that we are fearfully and wonderfully made. Not just me.  You are too.  We are all fearfully and wonderfully made.   This gets hard, as well, I don't want to remember that the people I view as evil are fearfully and wonderfully made.  I don't want to remember that God designed their every fiber.  He knew them.  I sit there and think "how can you possibly have made them?!"  Then I remember that He made me.  What stopped me?  I'm not saying I have all evil figured out.  There's a thing called "righteous anger", an anger at seeing innocence betrayed. Even so, I'm called to love my enemies.  That's hard.
  I digress.

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I don't take the gift of encouragement lightly.  I re-gift. At least, I hope I do.  I have people in my mind who will always get a hug when I see them, I remind them constantly that they are beautiful, people who you see courage bloom from at the watering of words, the sunshine of love.

Who needs, craves, and desires your love today?

tattoo

In the choosing of the name for the blog, which is still under way, I've been thinking a lot about words and their meanings.

I'm the kind of person who writes/draws on themselves with Sharpie.  People then ask, and often, if it is a tattoo.  I understand why they think it is one, I am the sort of person you would expect to have tattoos.

Strangely, I do not have any tattoos. There, rest your minds Mom and Grandmother. 

It's not that I do not like tattoos, I do.  I just never have found one that I wanted forever, other than a wedding band.

These facts are beside the point.  Heh, I'm sorry! I rabbit trail.

Occasionally the things I write are sayings I like or verses that touch my heart.  Often it's a simple thing I need to remember during the day, such as "love", "trust" or "focus".  When I read, I come across phrases and think of the way they would look if I tattoo them. I like to use it to remember things.  I can thinking back on them, it's like I have a book sunk in under my skin.  I like my secret tome, all my own and none others, not entirely.

There are other words under my skin, written in dirty ink, infecting, poisoning.  Mostly, I am to blame for these words.  I am not at all blaming anyone but myself.  (Seriously.  I know some of my family read this.  SERIOUSLY! Do not think you had anything to do with this. )  I have words, nasty, hateful, words that I see when I see my skin, myself, my world.  Things I've allowed to corrupt my eyes and mind, a dark dye that has spread to my heart, killing the way I see myself.  Sample words could be "less", "unworthy", "fat".  Again, no one but myself wrote these things.

I've recently realized this, this horrible truth.  Like Eustace in Narnia, digging deep into his dragon skin, I've been trying to tug it away myself, only causing more pain.  Then, two nights ago, with my husband's help, I realized the words, admitted them and made the step to being whole.  Christ calls me worthy through Him.  I am fearfully and wonderfully made.  It does no good to say the stain was never there, but, Christ is better than a laser treatment.

The reason I'm posting this is to ask this...
what words are you writing and accepting on yourself?

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UPDATE: I'm so sorry, I wrote Edmund instead of Eustace.  Thank you to my cousin for that spot!

what is in a name?

I was blown away at how many read my last post.  It was under 50, but, it was one of my most read posts ever.  I know view count doesn't matter, still, thank you.

Thank you for reading.

I'm very gracelessly trying to revamp the blog.  I'm also seeking out a new name.  I didn't complete the Blogject in the sense of blogging every day, though, I have stuck with at least semi-regularly updating a blog for over a year.  I'll claim victory where I see it.
All that said, I need a new name.  And look.  First a name though.

I'd like y'all's help with that.  I have some words in mind that I love, things that in my mind sum me up.  I need help putting them together.  I liked the name Gypsy Glitter, but, I'm just not sure it's right.  Here are the words though, put them together as you like or throw out some new ones.  Just please comment.

Art.
Beauty.
Belle.  (my mom likes to call me that.)
Christian.
Color.
Dye.
Faith.
Free.
Fire.
Glitter.
Gypsy.
Hippie.
Joy. <-- middle name
Ma Peau. ("my skin" in french.)
Passion.
Rainbow.
Simple.
Spirit.
Wild.
Wind.

Here are some combinations I like:

Wild Passion.  (Could be taken the wrong way.)
Gypsy Glitter.
Glitter Dye.
Dans Ma Peau. ("in my skin.")



I dunno.. help?

Thankfilled Thoughts

As some of you may have noticed, I have been reading "One Thousand Gifts" by Ann Voskamp. Her writing style is unlike any I have read before. She flows in and out of normal construction and into a beat poet prose. It took me a lot of time to get used to. I know its only 200-something pages, but, I've found myself savoring it. I read maybe a chapter a day, like a bite of fine chocolate. Somethings just aren't meant to be gobbled down. In fact, I'm not sure much is.

All that said, I keep thinking in her way. I keep having poems flow out of me, even about washing dishes. I had a fairly epic one the other day in fact about how wildness is often found in silence for me. It was gooood. Too bad I don't remember it. I think tonight, though, my thoughts are disjointed enough to try it out. I'm not sure how this will work in written form for me. Also, please remember I'm a newbie. I hadn't really experimented in this until I started reading this book.

*Deep breath* Here we go.

ghost fur curled at my feet
dog hyper finally asleep
mind is full of so much nothing.
center quiet despite all floating
memory
sound
thought
ebb and flow like wind in window
curtains covering, flimsy paper.
temperature, house, high,
filled with warmth of humans.
storm filled moments passed,
thunder roaring, lightening flashed.
atmosphere is clear, safe,
heart yet still unsure.
heat rises quickly meeting cool,
words like thunder, tones like lightening.

peace.

calm.

eye.

flashing, energy still palpable.
candle flickers here now later,
flame burns low, adding light not fire.
shimmers.
simmers.
gentle fragrance,destruction bringing beauty.
all to be gone by lights death,
sleep, sleep to fall,
awaken mercies.
Oh awaken mercies new.


Then end.

Wild Purpose Pt. 2

Back to Songs of Water and Wild Purpose.


I do believe some of the members are professing Believers.  There were touches of faith strewn throughout the lyrics.  What touched me though was that they didn't have to say they were Believers.  They lived it.  They had joy and peace.

Songs of Water - "bread and circus" from ben joyner on Vimeo.

The music was alive. It was live as well, but, it was alive.  Each member was deeply involved the instruments, rhythm and music.  Each played several instruments, jumping from piano to drum to guitar to hammered dulcimer.   Most were swaying to the music or clapping, if not shouting out when the moment overtook them.  It was enough to break your heart, sometimes with sadness and sometimes with passion.
It brought to mind one of my dream scenarios:  A gypsy campfire.

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  First.  I know that some people view "gypsy" as a derogatory term.  I am in no way using it as such.  I think gypsies are beautiful people and took a world that was harsh to them and made it magnificent.  I use the term with all the honor I feel is due it.




To the dream...


       A campfire with a sandy beach surrounding you.  A cool breeze blows, causing the grasses to swish.  As the floating embers of the fire dance their way to join the stars, tanned bare feet move to join the song.  Colorful gypsy skirts, long hair and pipe smoke all swirl around you, families laughing together, loves flirt across the fire, elders watching, remembering the fires and flames of the past.  Violins haunt you, then cause your spirit to rejoice. Drums as soft as your heart and as loud as the crashing waves.  The delicate rustle of a skirt, the melodic tingle of bells attached to ankles, earrings and hair, the thunder of clapping.  It's a maddening orchestra of delighting in the joy to be found in the world, the beauty to be celebrated.



To me, this is a vision of wild beauty.

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I want a faith that is earthy real.  I want to be a home that follows me wherever I am. I want to embrace all of the beauty God has placed in this earth.  I want to live a life that when I go to bed, I know I allowed God to move in me with all the freedom I can.

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I do not want the American Dream.


I want the Barbarian way.


I want to walk in the Way.


I want to move to the sacred dance.


I want Wild Purpose.

speak

.watch me.

(thanks to Lauren for this one.)

This is so powerful.  Seriously.  Don't expect this to be one of those Spoken Word things about marriage or anything like that.  It is still powerful.

Does it really matter how many views I have?  Does it really matter if people comment on my blog?  I reach out my thoughts to all my friends instead of specifically speaking into the lives of my friends.

That said, it's Valentines (happy for you I hope) and I have husband who I need to spend time with instead of this computer.

Love to you all!