Most of the time I have no clue as to where I'm going. It frustrates me, not knowing where I'm heading to. Troughout my life I've always had a plan. In any given time of my life, if you sat down with me and asked me about my future, I could very well spend the next three hours telling you how I was going to:
(not in a particular chronological order)
- Stop Eve from eating the apple and visit Jonas inside the whale... all with the help of a time machine I was convinced I would be able to invent
- Be an embassador in the UN and finally allow world peace to happen
- Be a novelist and write the next all-american/mexican novel
- Be a journalist and win two million pulitzer prizes
- Be a filmmaker and screen my movie at sundance, and who knows? maybe win an oscar
- Be a lawyer and defend the defendless
- Be an architect and build the eight wonder of the world
- Be a kindergarden teacher and shape really young minds
- Be a college professor and shape not so young minds
- Give the weather report and know how to use a barometer
- Broadcast the news and win everyone over with my personality
- Edit a newspaper and a magazine, because I'm cool like that
- Be a photographer and actually have money because of it
- Being a missionary in China smuggling Bibles through what I believed were real "underground" churches
...
I seriously would never finish this list if I could actually remember everything I've wanted to do...
But as it turns out, every time I thought I had my life all planned out, all the way down to the last dot, God would leave me planless... and there I was again, walking through roads I never quite fully understood.
Don't take this the wrong way. It's actually a good thing that God leaves me planless every time. He gives me a chance to do what I was made to do...
thinking about it gets me exited. The Bible says that God has things planned for me that even I have not imagined... and as you can see in my list above, I've imagined pretty amazing things for just one person... can you even begin to TRY and imagine where He's taking me? I know I can't, and every time I do, He'll just top me with something a bajillion times better.
on a completely different note.
This year was a hard year. It started off with a prayer that I remember like I prayed it yesterday... I asked God that this year be my year... All I know is that this year I came to harsh and truthfull realizations about myself. I saw things very differently, and it did not go as well as I had planned it to go... but then again, remember how my plans are never the one's He has... but still, I can hardly wait for the next year to get my real life going. My supernatural life.
Someone told me I had lost my faith...
Someone said I was kind of a fatalist...
My God says His mercies are new every morning...
But yeah, those three things are true. But this next year, you just wait and see... this next year will BE my year. I declare it over me, and I'm immortalizing it by publishing it online.
This next year I will grow older and younger. I will grow older and wiser in understanding and revelation of my Beloved. I will grow younger and naïver in my heart.
This next year I will be ready to face myself. I will recognize my areas of strenght and weakness. I will confront myself with the reality of me and be humble as to know I am not perfect.
This next year I will learn to love myself. I will take care of my body, my mind, my eyes, my hands and my spirit. Then I will be able to love others in the way I love myself.
This next year I will learn to honor those who honor deserve. I will respect my authorities and my peers. I will listen not only with my ears but with my heart.
This next year I will let go of my pride. I will quiet when I have nothing to say. I will speak when it is wise to do so. I will not see others below me, but set myself under everyone, serving with love and devotion.
This next year I will believe. I will know His word and live by it with my spirit, even when my soul does not want to believe it.
This next year I will dream. I will speak words of encouragement onto my own life and those around me.
This next year I will love. I will give myself to others the way He gave His life for me. I will aquire deeper revelation of His passion for me and love others like He has me.
This next year is a year of victory, of maturity and understanding.
It is a year of fire, perseverance and faithfulness.
A year of dancing in the river of His delight.
This next year is going to be His year in me.
....
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
broken glass in my arm
My car window got smashed today... and my iPod got stolen.
The whole event was kind of surreal. When they first told me they had smashed my window I thought they maybe hit it and it was cracked or something. Never in my life would I have thought that they had actually stolen something from me. As I was walking towards the car, right by the girls bathroom It felt like I was starting to panick. I lifted my hands and combed my hair back while inhaling for dear life... a couple steps later the feeling was gone, and I distinctly remember having a smile on my face.
I finally got to where my car was. A couple friends were there staring at the remains of my car window. I walked up to the car and immediately looked to the back seat, because I knew I had so much stuff in the back seat that even I would've stolen it... but everything was there. My next impulse made me stare right at the little black bag where I keep my iPod, which was empty. It always is, I just leave it there so the back of the iPod won't get scratches... But still, my iPod wasn't on top of it. Right there I knew, inside of me, that my iPod was gone. However I still checked the chord to see if it was still attached to the iTrip. My guts kidded me not when I felt that my iPod was missing: The chord had been finely cut by a cutting thingy that made the stealing appeal so simple... except for the whole bursting my window into a hundred million little pieces of broken glass, one of which found it's way into my right arm.
The little piece of glass that cut me (it's not even a cut, it's just a weird bumpy thingy that hurts a bit) was probably the size of half a grain of sand... and writing about it now makes me realize that even the littlest things can hurt you.
After all those very lovely realizations, I was still not panicking. I was calm, and that smile I was telling you about still seemed to be hanging around my face.
I called my mom. Then my dad. Then cleaned the whole mess up... kinda. Now I have a broken window, and a stolen iPod.
But never once did I feel bad during the whole experience, not even when my parents were scolding me for not hiding my stuff in the car and being so irresponsible and etc. etc.
I can't help but wonder if it did bother me but I didn't show it... but after all the stress I've been going through these past weeks, it certainly didn't feel like it did bother me... I was calm. Relaxed. Even felt like I was enjoying the whole debacle at some points (just don't tell either of my parents).
However, I think the best part of my day was climbing on the highest part of the ladder and not feeling like I was going to fall.. Seriously, y'all should do that sometime soon. I know for sure, that I'm gonna do it again tomorrow... except I don't have a window to break this time... which is actually good, because tomorrow, I have nothing left to loose.
The whole event was kind of surreal. When they first told me they had smashed my window I thought they maybe hit it and it was cracked or something. Never in my life would I have thought that they had actually stolen something from me. As I was walking towards the car, right by the girls bathroom It felt like I was starting to panick. I lifted my hands and combed my hair back while inhaling for dear life... a couple steps later the feeling was gone, and I distinctly remember having a smile on my face.
I finally got to where my car was. A couple friends were there staring at the remains of my car window. I walked up to the car and immediately looked to the back seat, because I knew I had so much stuff in the back seat that even I would've stolen it... but everything was there. My next impulse made me stare right at the little black bag where I keep my iPod, which was empty. It always is, I just leave it there so the back of the iPod won't get scratches... But still, my iPod wasn't on top of it. Right there I knew, inside of me, that my iPod was gone. However I still checked the chord to see if it was still attached to the iTrip. My guts kidded me not when I felt that my iPod was missing: The chord had been finely cut by a cutting thingy that made the stealing appeal so simple... except for the whole bursting my window into a hundred million little pieces of broken glass, one of which found it's way into my right arm.
The little piece of glass that cut me (it's not even a cut, it's just a weird bumpy thingy that hurts a bit) was probably the size of half a grain of sand... and writing about it now makes me realize that even the littlest things can hurt you.
After all those very lovely realizations, I was still not panicking. I was calm, and that smile I was telling you about still seemed to be hanging around my face.
I called my mom. Then my dad. Then cleaned the whole mess up... kinda. Now I have a broken window, and a stolen iPod.
But never once did I feel bad during the whole experience, not even when my parents were scolding me for not hiding my stuff in the car and being so irresponsible and etc. etc.
I can't help but wonder if it did bother me but I didn't show it... but after all the stress I've been going through these past weeks, it certainly didn't feel like it did bother me... I was calm. Relaxed. Even felt like I was enjoying the whole debacle at some points (just don't tell either of my parents).
However, I think the best part of my day was climbing on the highest part of the ladder and not feeling like I was going to fall.. Seriously, y'all should do that sometime soon. I know for sure, that I'm gonna do it again tomorrow... except I don't have a window to break this time... which is actually good, because tomorrow, I have nothing left to loose.
Monday, December 11, 2006
I'm swearing off 007's...
I never thought watching a movie could break my heart. Much less a stupid James Bond movie.
If you haven't seen Casino Royale, don't read this, because there are spoilers.
She tried to make sense out of what had happened all the way back from the theater, but my heart didn't care about the sense the movie could make. I still wanted to cry. I still am crying.
Someone please explain to me why I am crying for a stupid STUPID STUPID!!!!!!!! James Bond movie... I certainly don't understand.
When I saw his expression on the screen, damn good actor I might say, I got blown away. Freaking blown away. I started shaking, not that I'll ever admit to it. My heart started pounding faster, my eyes began to water. My head hurt so bad trying to keep it all inside.
I know it's just a story. Just a story I tell myself. But the hurt still exists. If not for the loss of Bond, for the cracks in my own heart.
If I try to reason this out, it goes something like this:
Bond represents stone turned hearts everywhere. In me, in you, in everyone that's ever been bruised. Something made its way through the cold cement walls and began warming up whatever was left of the beat inside... But then, once the security and comfort settled in, what began as a joyous warming ran back outside like a sprinting lion, tearing down the walls as it found its way into the light. Breaking the heart all over again. Not only exposing the half burned muscle, but leaving it in a way that there's no possibility of reconstruction, even when the walls are build up once again.
It was not fair, but life is not fair, cliché very much intended.
So then, does it mean I can cry?
Yes.
But not because I cannot detach myself from the screen once set in front of me... I've always been good at letting go of movies, ask those who think they know me....
However, I wasn't good at that tonight. Even though I tried, I could not separate my own heart from Bond's... it broke, and the pieces fell and got shattered all over the ground... But unlike Bond, my heart has the opportunity for healing... and you know what else? It hurts me that there are people that don't get that opportunity.
I can because basically there's no escaping this. This time I'm letting it hurt, if not for the medicinal purposes HE's been guiding me through these past few days, because I really have no other option.
So be it, I tell myself... let us all weep blood tonight, not from the deceiving eye, but from the wounded, crimson heart, welcoming the healing.
If you haven't seen Casino Royale, don't read this, because there are spoilers.
She tried to make sense out of what had happened all the way back from the theater, but my heart didn't care about the sense the movie could make. I still wanted to cry. I still am crying.
Someone please explain to me why I am crying for a stupid STUPID STUPID!!!!!!!! James Bond movie... I certainly don't understand.
When I saw his expression on the screen, damn good actor I might say, I got blown away. Freaking blown away. I started shaking, not that I'll ever admit to it. My heart started pounding faster, my eyes began to water. My head hurt so bad trying to keep it all inside.
I know it's just a story. Just a story I tell myself. But the hurt still exists. If not for the loss of Bond, for the cracks in my own heart.
If I try to reason this out, it goes something like this:
Bond represents stone turned hearts everywhere. In me, in you, in everyone that's ever been bruised. Something made its way through the cold cement walls and began warming up whatever was left of the beat inside... But then, once the security and comfort settled in, what began as a joyous warming ran back outside like a sprinting lion, tearing down the walls as it found its way into the light. Breaking the heart all over again. Not only exposing the half burned muscle, but leaving it in a way that there's no possibility of reconstruction, even when the walls are build up once again.
It was not fair, but life is not fair, cliché very much intended.
So then, does it mean I can cry?
Yes.
But not because I cannot detach myself from the screen once set in front of me... I've always been good at letting go of movies, ask those who think they know me....
However, I wasn't good at that tonight. Even though I tried, I could not separate my own heart from Bond's... it broke, and the pieces fell and got shattered all over the ground... But unlike Bond, my heart has the opportunity for healing... and you know what else? It hurts me that there are people that don't get that opportunity.
I can because basically there's no escaping this. This time I'm letting it hurt, if not for the medicinal purposes HE's been guiding me through these past few days, because I really have no other option.
So be it, I tell myself... let us all weep blood tonight, not from the deceiving eye, but from the wounded, crimson heart, welcoming the healing.
Friday, November 24, 2006
change
People don't change... But they can, they just don't because it's easier not to...
Am I going to change? I ask myself. Yes... It will not be easy. It will not be pleasant. It won't be fast nor noticeable. At least you won't think so... But it will be. It will be everything you wished for and more. It will be true and permanente if you give yourself in with all of your heart.
There are things you do because they tell you to. Not this. This is because you have no other option. You were made for this. Destined for this. In your heart, the depths of your heart, you know it is what it is. And you willingly give in. You let yourself stumble onto the darkness holding on to a promise of light. And surely: there it is. And you rejoice in the fact that those are the things you said you were made for. And that day: Today, you are there, and in your heart there was never any other option... sanctified.
Am I going to change? I ask myself. Yes... It will not be easy. It will not be pleasant. It won't be fast nor noticeable. At least you won't think so... But it will be. It will be everything you wished for and more. It will be true and permanente if you give yourself in with all of your heart.
There are things you do because they tell you to. Not this. This is because you have no other option. You were made for this. Destined for this. In your heart, the depths of your heart, you know it is what it is. And you willingly give in. You let yourself stumble onto the darkness holding on to a promise of light. And surely: there it is. And you rejoice in the fact that those are the things you said you were made for. And that day: Today, you are there, and in your heart there was never any other option... sanctified.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Looking for Vienna
There's something magical about having a song written with your name on it... but then there's the other magic in which a particular song describes you in such a perfect way that all you ever want to do is listen to that song. Unless of course it's a really depressing song or something tragical or desperate.
For me there's only one song. And what's even better is that I like the song, not only the lyrics. But the lyrics are the ones that take the cake away.
They talk about me right now. About life being something you're supposed to cherish and savor, not rush your way into. It speaks about dreams, plans and decisions. It talks about living.
So, here it is, my song:
Vienna by Billy Joel
Slow down you crazy child
You're so ambitious for a juvenile
But then if you're so smart tell me why
You are still so afraid?
Where's the fire, what's the hurry about?
You better cool it off before you burn it out
You got so much to do and only
So many hours in a day
But you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want
Or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through
When will you realize...Vienna waits for you
Slow down you're doing fine
You can't be everything you want to be
Before your time
Although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight (tonight)
Too bad but it's the life you lead
You're so ahead of yourself
That you forgot what you need
Though you can see when you're wrong
You know you can't always see when you're right(you're right)
You got your passion you got your pride
But don't you know that only fools are satisfied?
Dream on but don't imagine they'll all come true
When will you realize
Vienna waits for you
Slow down you crazy child
Take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while
It's alright you can afford to lose a day or two
When will you realize...
Vienna waits for you.
But you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want
Or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through
Why don't you realize...Vienna waits for you
When will you realize...Vienna waits for you
and yep, that's pretty much all you could know about be... if you'd learn to see through the skins and layers.
I seriously plan on going to Vienna before I'm 25 or something.
For me there's only one song. And what's even better is that I like the song, not only the lyrics. But the lyrics are the ones that take the cake away.
They talk about me right now. About life being something you're supposed to cherish and savor, not rush your way into. It speaks about dreams, plans and decisions. It talks about living.
So, here it is, my song:
Vienna by Billy Joel
Slow down you crazy child
You're so ambitious for a juvenile
But then if you're so smart tell me why
You are still so afraid?
Where's the fire, what's the hurry about?
You better cool it off before you burn it out
You got so much to do and only
So many hours in a day
But you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want
Or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through
When will you realize...Vienna waits for you
Slow down you're doing fine
You can't be everything you want to be
Before your time
Although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight (tonight)
Too bad but it's the life you lead
You're so ahead of yourself
That you forgot what you need
Though you can see when you're wrong
You know you can't always see when you're right(you're right)
You got your passion you got your pride
But don't you know that only fools are satisfied?
Dream on but don't imagine they'll all come true
When will you realize
Vienna waits for you
Slow down you crazy child
Take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while
It's alright you can afford to lose a day or two
When will you realize...
Vienna waits for you.
But you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want
Or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through
Why don't you realize...Vienna waits for you
When will you realize...Vienna waits for you
and yep, that's pretty much all you could know about be... if you'd learn to see through the skins and layers.
I seriously plan on going to Vienna before I'm 25 or something.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
thoughts about teaching
It's always the things that remain unsaid that matter the most. I've decided to begin saying many of those unsaid things, and I won't bug people asking them to read. Whoever reads will read for a reason. I'm just going to write.
For many years I've wanted, contrary to what many friends and acquaintances might think, to be a teacher. The thing is, I believe that there is power in the art of teaching (yes, I will make an art out of everything I do... I guess it lets me believe then that what I'm doing has a chance to be beautiful)
---
I just dictionared "art".... which I've found to be:
the expression or application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual form such as painting or sculpture, producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power
---
I also believe that a teacher has the power to change a student’s life. He's a decision inducer, granted with the skill to alter every aspect in the heart and mind of their students. A teacher can make or brake. He can be one out of two things: some other guy or girl who can teach or he/she can choose to be an inspiration. Teachers always have the "extra mile" set before them, door wide open for them to step right through and make something out of their students.
The "magic" about all this is that it is true. Think about it. There's at least one teacher in your life that has defined you in more than one way. Someone that challenged you to bring out the best in you. More importantly, someone who believed. Believed in you, in the fact that you are not but what you choose to be, and someone who believed that you had it in you to make the right decisions. (that someone doesn’t necessarily have to have a degree in education)
I want to be that for kids… teenagers mostly. Kids no one else cares about. Kids facing life thinking there's no point for existence. Kids with a longing for something real in which to hold on to...
BUT... oh yes, there's always a but...
In order for me to be able to be that to others, I need to "turn my thoughts within and find myself" like my Oriental Express fortune cookie said once... Not because I can find anything relevant IN me, but because I need to determine who I am and what I believe... otherwise I can't help people find their own way.
For the last two years, I've been determined to find out who I am. Because I believe that who I am makes who I'll be... not in the sense that I'm doomed and whatever mess I'm in right now, there's no fixin'... more like I know if I find out who I am, who I really am, who I was MADE to be, I will be able to live that way... And boy have I messed up in the process. There are days where I think there's no possible manner in which I can be made right again... then comes amazing grace and saves me from myself. The fatalist. The dreamer who sometimes gets lost in her own dreams. Nightmares really, but whatever. (you see!? that's what I was referring to with the fatalist)
Anyways. Finding myself has been a process I'm not yet through understanding... I don't really think I've begun to understand what all that implies. But I think that in the middle of all the FREAKING mess I've made, there's a way out...
(Isn't it amazing, my ability to ramble on about so much and so little? That happens when I want to say so much but most of the time say nothing)
I truly believe God is the answer, as clichéd and trite that might sound. However, God being the answer does not mean that "the answer" is easy to comprehend and grip... Nooo, not a chance. Part of the beauty of God being "the answer" is something I heard someone say before (and its biblical) "It is the glory of God to conceal a thing, but the glory of a king to find it out."
So made kings and empresses, lords and princesses we set out... more like, I set out, to find the glory God concealed in me.
Whenever I find it, or during the time I find bits and pieces of it, I will then be able to pass it on. Hoping to inspire the hearts of others to search the glory of God hidden in them... that glory which will tell them where they belong: side by side... of The Almighty Lover of our souls.
That, among other things is why someday I want to be a teacher.
For many years I've wanted, contrary to what many friends and acquaintances might think, to be a teacher. The thing is, I believe that there is power in the art of teaching (yes, I will make an art out of everything I do... I guess it lets me believe then that what I'm doing has a chance to be beautiful)
---
I just dictionared "art".... which I've found to be:
the expression or application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual form such as painting or sculpture, producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power
---
I also believe that a teacher has the power to change a student’s life. He's a decision inducer, granted with the skill to alter every aspect in the heart and mind of their students. A teacher can make or brake. He can be one out of two things: some other guy or girl who can teach or he/she can choose to be an inspiration. Teachers always have the "extra mile" set before them, door wide open for them to step right through and make something out of their students.
The "magic" about all this is that it is true. Think about it. There's at least one teacher in your life that has defined you in more than one way. Someone that challenged you to bring out the best in you. More importantly, someone who believed. Believed in you, in the fact that you are not but what you choose to be, and someone who believed that you had it in you to make the right decisions. (that someone doesn’t necessarily have to have a degree in education)
I want to be that for kids… teenagers mostly. Kids no one else cares about. Kids facing life thinking there's no point for existence. Kids with a longing for something real in which to hold on to...
BUT... oh yes, there's always a but...
In order for me to be able to be that to others, I need to "turn my thoughts within and find myself" like my Oriental Express fortune cookie said once... Not because I can find anything relevant IN me, but because I need to determine who I am and what I believe... otherwise I can't help people find their own way.
For the last two years, I've been determined to find out who I am. Because I believe that who I am makes who I'll be... not in the sense that I'm doomed and whatever mess I'm in right now, there's no fixin'... more like I know if I find out who I am, who I really am, who I was MADE to be, I will be able to live that way... And boy have I messed up in the process. There are days where I think there's no possible manner in which I can be made right again... then comes amazing grace and saves me from myself. The fatalist. The dreamer who sometimes gets lost in her own dreams. Nightmares really, but whatever. (you see!? that's what I was referring to with the fatalist)
Anyways. Finding myself has been a process I'm not yet through understanding... I don't really think I've begun to understand what all that implies. But I think that in the middle of all the FREAKING mess I've made, there's a way out...
(Isn't it amazing, my ability to ramble on about so much and so little? That happens when I want to say so much but most of the time say nothing)
I truly believe God is the answer, as clichéd and trite that might sound. However, God being the answer does not mean that "the answer" is easy to comprehend and grip... Nooo, not a chance. Part of the beauty of God being "the answer" is something I heard someone say before (and its biblical) "It is the glory of God to conceal a thing, but the glory of a king to find it out."
So made kings and empresses, lords and princesses we set out... more like, I set out, to find the glory God concealed in me.
Whenever I find it, or during the time I find bits and pieces of it, I will then be able to pass it on. Hoping to inspire the hearts of others to search the glory of God hidden in them... that glory which will tell them where they belong: side by side... of The Almighty Lover of our souls.
That, among other things is why someday I want to be a teacher.
Sunday, October 08, 2006
by Your side
You find me here as I am dying, laying in my own blood
and as you gaze upon me You speak words of eternity saying
Live, young one, live.
And a breath of life dances into me,
rising me up from my grave.
Then I am standing, dripping in crimson stains
I feel dirty, yet Your eyes are still upon me
drinking in my unrecognizable beauty, gently stripping me from my weakness filling me up with your light
You hold out your hand to me, my eyes meet the wounds in your palms.
and I find myself needing You more than I need air... so I stretch out my own hand and hold onto Yours. You won't let me fall.
Tears slide down my cheeks, for I cannot stand here with you and not be moved by you
And I am where I need to be.
and as you gaze upon me You speak words of eternity saying
Live, young one, live.
And a breath of life dances into me,
rising me up from my grave.
Then I am standing, dripping in crimson stains
I feel dirty, yet Your eyes are still upon me
drinking in my unrecognizable beauty, gently stripping me from my weakness filling me up with your light
You hold out your hand to me, my eyes meet the wounds in your palms.
and I find myself needing You more than I need air... so I stretch out my own hand and hold onto Yours. You won't let me fall.
Tears slide down my cheeks, for I cannot stand here with you and not be moved by you
And I am where I need to be.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
101 Things I Want To Do Before I Die
I turn 19 right now... heh. It's like one in the morning and I'm trying to fix some stupid video thingy on my laptop. I started thinking a bit and decided to write this entry, in honor of this being my first day as more of an adullt. They're not in any specific order.
1. Buy a vespa
2. Own a hotel
3. Direct a (real) movie, music video, documentary
3. Write a book.
4. Publish said book.
5. Live in New York for at least 6 months of my life.
6. Study in the United States (at least for a summer or something)
7. Travel by plane by myself. (doesn't matter if I meet someone later)
8. Get married
9. Have kids
10. Graduate from college
11. Record some sort of cd
12. Cut my hair really short
13. Go diving
14. Go skydiving
15. Go on a road trip in which I drive. (preferably further than a three hour trip)
16. Travel all over the world because of my ministry
17. Have a cell phone and not break it
18. Meet someone famous I really want to meet
19. Write my interview compillation
20. Convince my whole family to change to macs
21. Be like John
22. Graduate Magna Cum Laude
23. Reach my ideal weigh
24. Get a tattoo (designed by me)
25. Get my nose or lip pierced
26. Own a brand new gray Range Rover
27. Be able to run for an hour straight
28. Join a real soccer team (and actually play)
29. Join a real baseball/softball team (and actually play)
30. See my kids grow
31. See my disciples grow
32. Sing a song I wrote for my best friend at her wedding
33. Write that song. And a whole bunch of other songs
34. Go to both of my brother's weddings
35. Are you kidding? I didn't think it would take all that long to write 100 things
36. Pilot an airplane
37. Join the mile high club with my hubby (shuttup)
38. Stop biting my nails
39. Sing and play at a real concert
40. Lead a (preferably teenager) worship team
41. Go intern at IHOP
42. Go to some sort of film school or course
43. Travel to the little hotel I saw in the American Express travel book
44. Ride an elephant. In Africa.
45. Re-learn how to play the drums
45. Learn to sing (better)
46. Go to Thailand
47. Study german
48. Preach in Germany (see the above)
49. Define my dressing style
50. Organize a huge concert (where they sell cool t-shirts)
51. Go to a concert. But nothing pop, real indie music, where they appreciate the music, not the "show"
En honor a abraham que me acaba de hablar por telefono para felicitarme por mi cumpleaños, me detengo para decirle que lo quiero mucho, que es todo un chilanguito con su "venga, venga" y que espero disfrute mi extensa lista que me he tardado mucho en hacer.
52. (Talking to Abraham made me remember this entry) Go to a Sundance Film Festival, at least once
53. Wear my Burberry trench coat on a regular basis
54. Fix the stupid update on my computer so I can watch Diego be all cute and funny
55. See Diego again, regularly.
56. Have a very professional production studio... with macs and many screens and the little network thingies that I can't remmember their names because my brain is numb. But have one like the ones they have on the "pro-profiles" on apple.com
57. Have the original Final Cut Pro Studio software
58. See the aurora borale, in at least two places of the world
59. Drink irish beer, in an irish pub, during the fall
60. Own an extensive collection of LP records and actually have heard them all
61. Go to Hillsong College for a summer production program
62. Study at NYU
63. Intern in a magazine (nothing about cars, technology or anything)
64. "Backpack" through Europe with my friends
65. Be able to refer to God as the God in whose prescence I abide
66. Eat caribou again
67. Go to "Entercout", or something like that, in Toronto
68. Wear supper skinny jeans (skinny does not precisely mean tight!)
69. Cook a delicious gourmet meal for a large amount of people
70. Travel by plane on First Class
71. Always have a double portion
72. Remain as an unshaken, whole-hearted and relentless worhshipper, singing a new song everyday from the depths of my heart
73. Write real poetry
74. Intern at IHOP for at least a summer track
75. Not be offended
76. Write for the New York Times
77. Take photography classes
78. Have one of my pictures in a magazine
79. Write editorials for some magazine
80. Go skiing again
81. Learn to walk in high heels
82. Bike to Mcallen
83. Have a golf kart
84. Have a dog again (and have him live inside my house)
85. Be a lover (not that kind!)
86. Buy a new Jeep Wrangler for my mom
87. Take my dad to Africa
88. Go fly fishing and wear the cool jumpsuit and all that
89. Learn how to use Final Cut Pro, Flash and Photoshop
90. Fix my record player
91. Go to Disneyland Paris
92. Learn how to apply makeup
93. Go to London
94. Know His secrets
95. See my grandkids
96. See all my close friends get married and have their kids and their ministrys and jobs and be all happy
97. See His promises for my family come true.
98. Go on the dare-devil ride thingy again
99. Memorize a really large portion of the Bible
100. Meet my husband and marry him
101. Be a God chaser forever and ever.
So. It only took like a week to get this done, but it's done! These are just random things. Some are really important. Some are not. But they are all things I would love to do or see or get or understand before I die... so, enjoy knowing a bit more about me.
1. Buy a vespa
2. Own a hotel
3. Direct a (real) movie, music video, documentary
3. Write a book.
4. Publish said book.
5. Live in New York for at least 6 months of my life.
6. Study in the United States (at least for a summer or something)
7. Travel by plane by myself. (doesn't matter if I meet someone later)
8. Get married
9. Have kids
10. Graduate from college
11. Record some sort of cd
12. Cut my hair really short
13. Go diving
14. Go skydiving
15. Go on a road trip in which I drive. (preferably further than a three hour trip)
16. Travel all over the world because of my ministry
17. Have a cell phone and not break it
18. Meet someone famous I really want to meet
19. Write my interview compillation
20. Convince my whole family to change to macs
21. Be like John
22. Graduate Magna Cum Laude
23. Reach my ideal weigh
24. Get a tattoo (designed by me)
25. Get my nose or lip pierced
26. Own a brand new gray Range Rover
27. Be able to run for an hour straight
28. Join a real soccer team (and actually play)
29. Join a real baseball/softball team (and actually play)
30. See my kids grow
31. See my disciples grow
32. Sing a song I wrote for my best friend at her wedding
33. Write that song. And a whole bunch of other songs
34. Go to both of my brother's weddings
35. Are you kidding? I didn't think it would take all that long to write 100 things
36. Pilot an airplane
37. Join the mile high club with my hubby (shuttup)
38. Stop biting my nails
39. Sing and play at a real concert
40. Lead a (preferably teenager) worship team
41. Go intern at IHOP
42. Go to some sort of film school or course
43. Travel to the little hotel I saw in the American Express travel book
44. Ride an elephant. In Africa.
45. Re-learn how to play the drums
45. Learn to sing (better)
46. Go to Thailand
47. Study german
48. Preach in Germany (see the above)
49. Define my dressing style
50. Organize a huge concert (where they sell cool t-shirts)
51. Go to a concert. But nothing pop, real indie music, where they appreciate the music, not the "show"
En honor a abraham que me acaba de hablar por telefono para felicitarme por mi cumpleaños, me detengo para decirle que lo quiero mucho, que es todo un chilanguito con su "venga, venga" y que espero disfrute mi extensa lista que me he tardado mucho en hacer.
52. (Talking to Abraham made me remember this entry) Go to a Sundance Film Festival, at least once
53. Wear my Burberry trench coat on a regular basis
54. Fix the stupid update on my computer so I can watch Diego be all cute and funny
55. See Diego again, regularly.
56. Have a very professional production studio... with macs and many screens and the little network thingies that I can't remmember their names because my brain is numb. But have one like the ones they have on the "pro-profiles" on apple.com
57. Have the original Final Cut Pro Studio software
58. See the aurora borale, in at least two places of the world
59. Drink irish beer, in an irish pub, during the fall
60. Own an extensive collection of LP records and actually have heard them all
61. Go to Hillsong College for a summer production program
62. Study at NYU
63. Intern in a magazine (nothing about cars, technology or anything)
64. "Backpack" through Europe with my friends
65. Be able to refer to God as the God in whose prescence I abide
66. Eat caribou again
67. Go to "Entercout", or something like that, in Toronto
68. Wear supper skinny jeans (skinny does not precisely mean tight!)
69. Cook a delicious gourmet meal for a large amount of people
70. Travel by plane on First Class
71. Always have a double portion
72. Remain as an unshaken, whole-hearted and relentless worhshipper, singing a new song everyday from the depths of my heart
73. Write real poetry
74. Intern at IHOP for at least a summer track
75. Not be offended
76. Write for the New York Times
77. Take photography classes
78. Have one of my pictures in a magazine
79. Write editorials for some magazine
80. Go skiing again
81. Learn to walk in high heels
82. Bike to Mcallen
83. Have a golf kart
84. Have a dog again (and have him live inside my house)
85. Be a lover (not that kind!)
86. Buy a new Jeep Wrangler for my mom
87. Take my dad to Africa
88. Go fly fishing and wear the cool jumpsuit and all that
89. Learn how to use Final Cut Pro, Flash and Photoshop
90. Fix my record player
91. Go to Disneyland Paris
92. Learn how to apply makeup
93. Go to London
94. Know His secrets
95. See my grandkids
96. See all my close friends get married and have their kids and their ministrys and jobs and be all happy
97. See His promises for my family come true.
98. Go on the dare-devil ride thingy again
99. Memorize a really large portion of the Bible
100. Meet my husband and marry him
101. Be a God chaser forever and ever.
So. It only took like a week to get this done, but it's done! These are just random things. Some are really important. Some are not. But they are all things I would love to do or see or get or understand before I die... so, enjoy knowing a bit more about me.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Banda sonora: uno a nueve... Ahí comenzó todo.
Mi infancia... esta parte del soundtrack de mi vida va a ser el mas desconocido (creo) ya que las canciones o tendencias que me definen so, obvio, viejillas... Aparte no recuerdo así que digamos mucho mucho, asi que solamente voy a poner lo que más recuerdo...
1. Kenny Rogers (1-3 años)
No recuerdo absolutamente nada de Kenny Rogers ni de su música. Sin embargo, Kenny Rogers fue mi primer encuentro amoroso con la música (de alguna manera). Segun historias de mi mamá, Kenny Rogers, o más bien "Kenny Rollo" como yo le decía, era mi máximo... Ahora, lo curioso de este amorío, es que no creo que tuvo mucho que ver con la música, ya que una vez fuimos encontrados, El Cd de Kenny Rogers y yo... ¡besándonos en el closet! Ahora, yo no se que clase de persona es ese Cd, pero què pantalones de irse a andar besando con una niña de tres años. Lo interesante de Kenny Rogers es su terrible parecido con Santa Claus y el hecho de que en como 20 años no aparenta haber envejecido ni UN año...
2. "Cuá-Cuá" - Las Payasitas Ni Fu Ni Fa (4-6 años)
Esta canción tiene la mejor letra jamás creada por músicos o expertos del entretenimiento:
Ki ki ki, co co co, guru guru guru guru gu cuá cuá!
¿Qué niña de cinco años no va a pasar horas de diversión repitiendo eso? Por lo menos yo me entretenía, y hasta ahorita me acuerdo de la canción.
Cuando me acuerdo de esta canción, me veo sentada en la RAM Charger que teníamos, manejando (no yo, obvio... aunque dejenme decirles que desde que recuerdo, acostumbraba soñar que yo manejaba) hacia el campestre. Estoy sentada en el asiento de enmedio y vamos pasando por el parque de la Sierra Morena. En mi mente, mientras estoy escuchando esa canción y viendo el parque, me imagino una fiesta infantil y una granja... (el resto de la cancion dice algo asi como "la gallina cantando asi: ki ki ri ki ki ki... y viene el perro ladrando asi co co ro co co co"... lo se, los perros no le hacen co co, pero no se que animales eran y la letra está dificil de encontrar en internet) Lo que más me gusta de la música es que me lleva a lugares. Siento la canción y puedo cerrar los ojos y crear todo un mundo alrededor de ella. Y todo empezó con la gallína que ki ki ri keaba...
3. "Chonita tiene un cotorro" - Compendios de Cri-Cri (5-7)
Creo que Cri-Cri también tiene mucho que ver con el hecho de que para mí, toda canción es una historia y tiene un secreto o algo detrás de ello. Cri-Cri casi siempre contaba un cuento o algo asi en sus canciones. Esta canción se trataba de una niña que se llamaba Chonita y tenía un cotorro que era orgullo de su corazón (o algo así) y este cotorro era lo máximo... pero creo que un día le arrancó el dedo... ok, no... esa fui yo. Y creo que también ese es parte del atractivo de la canción. Porque cuando yo tenía como 2 años le metí el dedo a la jaula de un cotorro de una tía... el cotorro me ARRANCÓ BESTIALMENTE la yema del dedo indice... mi mamá dice que no saqué el dedo de la jaula. (creo que eso tiene que ver con el hecho de que aveces quiero creer que nada me duele) y porfin me lo sacaron. Agarraron el pedazo de yema totalmente despegado de mi dedo, lo lavaron con agua y jabón y me lo "pegó" con UHU... jajajja no... pero si me lo puso encima del dedo otra vez, y lo vendó... Para la mañana siguiente, ya tenía mi dedito completo otra vez. El chiste es que creo que en mi mente yo me relacionaba de alguna manera con Chonita. Ah! Ya me acuerdo, el cotorro creo que le decía cosas bonitas a Chonita o algo asi... pero bueno, esa fue la siguiente canción.
4. "You've Got a Friend" - Carole King (7-9)
Mi mamá fue la primera en inculcarme al grandioso mundo de la música. Ella toca la guitarra IMPRESIONANTEMENTE bien, pero no lo sabe. Es raro, porque cuando tiene que tocar algo no le sale, pero cuando lo siente o lo tiene dentro de ella, le sale padrísimo y puede hacer unos arpejeos increibles... En fin. Mi mamá siempre ha sido grandemente influenciada por la música, y me pasó ese gen. Cuando era chiquita, se sentaba en mi cama y las dos cantabamos hasta que me durmiera. Me acuerdo que se ponía a tocar y yo cantaba... hacía mis improvs y le cantaba a mi Dios. Una de las canciones que más me gustaba que me cantara era esa.
Con su voz grave y llena de pasión por la vida, me cantaba: "When you're down and troubled, and need some love and care. And nothing, oh nothing is going right. Close your eyes and think of me, and soon I'll be there. To brighten up, even your darkest night. You just call out my name, and you know wherever I am, I'll come running to see you again... Winter, spring, summer or fall... all you've got to do is call. And I'll be there ohh, you've got a friend"
Y para mí no había nada mejor que escucharla tocar esa guitarra y cantar esa canción..
1. Kenny Rogers (1-3 años)
No recuerdo absolutamente nada de Kenny Rogers ni de su música. Sin embargo, Kenny Rogers fue mi primer encuentro amoroso con la música (de alguna manera). Segun historias de mi mamá, Kenny Rogers, o más bien "Kenny Rollo" como yo le decía, era mi máximo... Ahora, lo curioso de este amorío, es que no creo que tuvo mucho que ver con la música, ya que una vez fuimos encontrados, El Cd de Kenny Rogers y yo... ¡besándonos en el closet! Ahora, yo no se que clase de persona es ese Cd, pero què pantalones de irse a andar besando con una niña de tres años. Lo interesante de Kenny Rogers es su terrible parecido con Santa Claus y el hecho de que en como 20 años no aparenta haber envejecido ni UN año...
2. "Cuá-Cuá" - Las Payasitas Ni Fu Ni Fa (4-6 años)
Esta canción tiene la mejor letra jamás creada por músicos o expertos del entretenimiento:
Ki ki ki, co co co, guru guru guru guru gu cuá cuá!
¿Qué niña de cinco años no va a pasar horas de diversión repitiendo eso? Por lo menos yo me entretenía, y hasta ahorita me acuerdo de la canción.
Cuando me acuerdo de esta canción, me veo sentada en la RAM Charger que teníamos, manejando (no yo, obvio... aunque dejenme decirles que desde que recuerdo, acostumbraba soñar que yo manejaba) hacia el campestre. Estoy sentada en el asiento de enmedio y vamos pasando por el parque de la Sierra Morena. En mi mente, mientras estoy escuchando esa canción y viendo el parque, me imagino una fiesta infantil y una granja... (el resto de la cancion dice algo asi como "la gallina cantando asi: ki ki ri ki ki ki... y viene el perro ladrando asi co co ro co co co"... lo se, los perros no le hacen co co, pero no se que animales eran y la letra está dificil de encontrar en internet) Lo que más me gusta de la música es que me lleva a lugares. Siento la canción y puedo cerrar los ojos y crear todo un mundo alrededor de ella. Y todo empezó con la gallína que ki ki ri keaba...
3. "Chonita tiene un cotorro" - Compendios de Cri-Cri (5-7)
Creo que Cri-Cri también tiene mucho que ver con el hecho de que para mí, toda canción es una historia y tiene un secreto o algo detrás de ello. Cri-Cri casi siempre contaba un cuento o algo asi en sus canciones. Esta canción se trataba de una niña que se llamaba Chonita y tenía un cotorro que era orgullo de su corazón (o algo así) y este cotorro era lo máximo... pero creo que un día le arrancó el dedo... ok, no... esa fui yo. Y creo que también ese es parte del atractivo de la canción. Porque cuando yo tenía como 2 años le metí el dedo a la jaula de un cotorro de una tía... el cotorro me ARRANCÓ BESTIALMENTE la yema del dedo indice... mi mamá dice que no saqué el dedo de la jaula. (creo que eso tiene que ver con el hecho de que aveces quiero creer que nada me duele) y porfin me lo sacaron. Agarraron el pedazo de yema totalmente despegado de mi dedo, lo lavaron con agua y jabón y me lo "pegó" con UHU... jajajja no... pero si me lo puso encima del dedo otra vez, y lo vendó... Para la mañana siguiente, ya tenía mi dedito completo otra vez. El chiste es que creo que en mi mente yo me relacionaba de alguna manera con Chonita. Ah! Ya me acuerdo, el cotorro creo que le decía cosas bonitas a Chonita o algo asi... pero bueno, esa fue la siguiente canción.
4. "You've Got a Friend" - Carole King (7-9)
Mi mamá fue la primera en inculcarme al grandioso mundo de la música. Ella toca la guitarra IMPRESIONANTEMENTE bien, pero no lo sabe. Es raro, porque cuando tiene que tocar algo no le sale, pero cuando lo siente o lo tiene dentro de ella, le sale padrísimo y puede hacer unos arpejeos increibles... En fin. Mi mamá siempre ha sido grandemente influenciada por la música, y me pasó ese gen. Cuando era chiquita, se sentaba en mi cama y las dos cantabamos hasta que me durmiera. Me acuerdo que se ponía a tocar y yo cantaba... hacía mis improvs y le cantaba a mi Dios. Una de las canciones que más me gustaba que me cantara era esa.
Con su voz grave y llena de pasión por la vida, me cantaba: "When you're down and troubled, and need some love and care. And nothing, oh nothing is going right. Close your eyes and think of me, and soon I'll be there. To brighten up, even your darkest night. You just call out my name, and you know wherever I am, I'll come running to see you again... Winter, spring, summer or fall... all you've got to do is call. And I'll be there ohh, you've got a friend"
Y para mí no había nada mejor que escucharla tocar esa guitarra y cantar esa canción..
Friday, August 25, 2006
Another brick in tha wall?
Aveces así me siento....
(the picture/feeling idea was taken by sunshine)
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Fire pages
I will read ashes for you, if you ask me.
I will look on the fire and tell you from the gray lashes
And out of the red and black tongues and stripes,
I will tell how fire comes
And how fire runs far as the sea.
I will look on the fire and tell you from the gray lashes
And out of the red and black tongues and stripes,
I will tell how fire comes
And how fire runs far as the sea.
- Carl Sandburg, Fire Pages
Próximamente
Después de mucho pensar, porfin decidí, que sí voy a escribir la entrada que se va a títular: "El soundtrack de mi vida" (en español completo sería "La banda sonora de mi vida" pero suena medio naco, ¿no creen?)
entonces. ¡espérenla! va a estar interesante
entonces. ¡espérenla! va a estar interesante
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
My heart: Reminiscing
Es un poema basado en las canciones "Worlds Apart" y "Portrait of an Apology" de Jars of Clay y parte son fragmentos sacados de las mismas canciones... lo esscribí en el 2000
Look what I have done. The picture I painted, looks like my heart, or what still remains.
Before, subsisting in obscurity, in the unknown. I feel convinced of the importance of your interpretations and perspective, thought they are not what they seem, I wish they could be. Them being so ludicrous. The intensity of your profoundness of the situation, is very vague. My previous philosophies, sumptuously consuming the inner me, and the outer world of my being.
To satiate my own desires. To accomplish my dreams. To live in a world of me, surrounded by thoughts of selfishness, yet wanting to give. Not understanding the condition, of the many things… spinning, turning, circling, making my head go round, the sullen mood of a world, not identifying its cause.
You scrutinized my actions, carefully looking. Investigating. Examining it. Never seeming to leave me. Always standing by my side. Your valor to never give up on me, has inspired nothing but trust, nothing but confidence, nothing but love.
And my heart. My heart, it used to be less redder, less brighter, until You came along, and gave it a new color. You brightened it all up. Somehow it all adds up correctly.
Before I could soar like an eagle, on pride’s egotistical wings, You came and lavishly filled me up. With dreams and new faith, of a new life, a new home. And as aggravating as it is, to try so hard to leave behind, the ways I once knew and lived upon. Helping me to rid myself of all but love, to learn to give, and die. To turn away and not become. Subsequent from the stimulus to go on, persist and self-effacingly live a life. A life to meditate on Your love and Your grace.
Try to imagine this. All thought I try to explain, look at the way that the frame doesn't quite fit the image or surround the edge.” But life in You doesn’t need an explanation, doesn’t need a rational justification. Let’s call it as it is. And… as it is, you are, you’ll be…
My heart, steadfast and strong, stands on display, What do you see? Behold all the new colors, what's become of the old me.
All this veritable. All this true. And the beauty of this all, is that Your ineffable glory, shines bright and cries loud in my life. Waxing, growing, each day, one inch at a time. As I reminisce the old memories, of those painful days. All said and done, I no longer stand alone. Amongst remains of a life I don’t not own.
But the owner, why should I need more? No longer will wistful memoirs invade the day, and that smile You placed on my face, shall forever subsist, even in a world filled with tears. My reliance on Your care is infinite, and although sometimes I might fail, I might doubt, I might want to quit. It is Your love that pulls me through, and keeps me standing through the day.
A yoke of heart, maintains me alive. And so as I look beyond the empty cross, and forget what my life has cost, as I wipe away the crimson stains, together we dull the nails that still remain. Lethal battle between grace and pride. I pray “Serve the ones I despise, and speak those words I won’t deny. Lacerate the arrogance amongst my life, reiterate those actions I so venerably admire.”
So much as you cannot tolerate my sin, you give me a second chance every time, and always keep an eye on me. Discerning my hearts desire, to give and not expect in return, trying to beat my self-interested heart. Knowing You will hold my hand until the end. Guess what? That is no longer part of my life. Those days in which You changed me, Oh God, I recall with such delight. My former vindictive spirit, has been removed from my days. And Lord I am so thankful, for the new life you gave.
Look what I have done. The picture I painted, looks like my heart, or what still remains.
Before, subsisting in obscurity, in the unknown. I feel convinced of the importance of your interpretations and perspective, thought they are not what they seem, I wish they could be. Them being so ludicrous. The intensity of your profoundness of the situation, is very vague. My previous philosophies, sumptuously consuming the inner me, and the outer world of my being.
To satiate my own desires. To accomplish my dreams. To live in a world of me, surrounded by thoughts of selfishness, yet wanting to give. Not understanding the condition, of the many things… spinning, turning, circling, making my head go round, the sullen mood of a world, not identifying its cause.
You scrutinized my actions, carefully looking. Investigating. Examining it. Never seeming to leave me. Always standing by my side. Your valor to never give up on me, has inspired nothing but trust, nothing but confidence, nothing but love.
And my heart. My heart, it used to be less redder, less brighter, until You came along, and gave it a new color. You brightened it all up. Somehow it all adds up correctly.
Before I could soar like an eagle, on pride’s egotistical wings, You came and lavishly filled me up. With dreams and new faith, of a new life, a new home. And as aggravating as it is, to try so hard to leave behind, the ways I once knew and lived upon. Helping me to rid myself of all but love, to learn to give, and die. To turn away and not become. Subsequent from the stimulus to go on, persist and self-effacingly live a life. A life to meditate on Your love and Your grace.
Try to imagine this. All thought I try to explain, look at the way that the frame doesn't quite fit the image or surround the edge.” But life in You doesn’t need an explanation, doesn’t need a rational justification. Let’s call it as it is. And… as it is, you are, you’ll be…
My heart, steadfast and strong, stands on display, What do you see? Behold all the new colors, what's become of the old me.
All this veritable. All this true. And the beauty of this all, is that Your ineffable glory, shines bright and cries loud in my life. Waxing, growing, each day, one inch at a time. As I reminisce the old memories, of those painful days. All said and done, I no longer stand alone. Amongst remains of a life I don’t not own.
But the owner, why should I need more? No longer will wistful memoirs invade the day, and that smile You placed on my face, shall forever subsist, even in a world filled with tears. My reliance on Your care is infinite, and although sometimes I might fail, I might doubt, I might want to quit. It is Your love that pulls me through, and keeps me standing through the day.
A yoke of heart, maintains me alive. And so as I look beyond the empty cross, and forget what my life has cost, as I wipe away the crimson stains, together we dull the nails that still remain. Lethal battle between grace and pride. I pray “Serve the ones I despise, and speak those words I won’t deny. Lacerate the arrogance amongst my life, reiterate those actions I so venerably admire.”
So much as you cannot tolerate my sin, you give me a second chance every time, and always keep an eye on me. Discerning my hearts desire, to give and not expect in return, trying to beat my self-interested heart. Knowing You will hold my hand until the end. Guess what? That is no longer part of my life. Those days in which You changed me, Oh God, I recall with such delight. My former vindictive spirit, has been removed from my days. And Lord I am so thankful, for the new life you gave.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
into the twists and tangles. rambles.
He querido escribir tanto por tanto tiempo pero no lo he hecho, que ahora que sí quiero escribir (y que "tengo tiempo", which is retarded really because I do have time, I just suck at managing it) no se de qué escribir. Makes sense?
----
Most of the time you think you have yourself all figured out, when really, you spend so much time and effort hiding yourself that when you want to take a look back inside, the way to your heart is so twisted and tangled, you can barely breathe.
Barely breathing. That's actually an interesting subject for a quick flashback...
Five years ago, a dear friend told me that she had prayed to God something weird. She asked God that she could need Him more than she needed air, and that whenever she wasn't looking for Him, she could feel like she would if she stopped breathing.
A week later, she started complaining about shortness of breath.
... so, back to the subject.
When you finally get a glimpse of what is behind the twists and tangles, you're in for a big surprise. You had it all wrong. They were right. But it doesn't really matter... He was right. So, now what are you going to do? Which is basically the important question. What are you going to do?
What am I going to do?
Once He starts showing you behind the curtain, if you don't step up and challenge yourself to go through that particular curtain, you won't ever get to see the curtain that's behind.
I personally think you should. Or at least I should. Step up and challenge, that is.
There's this quote another friend gave me once in a letter she wrote to me. There's only two important letters I've lost. That one is one of those.
"Todo cambio atemoriza, en especial aquellos que soñamos con realizar. No hay garantías, solo la ilusión de alcanzar lo que deseamos. Cada paso es un salto al vacio pero tambien a la posibilidad de realización."
I hold on to that when I find myself before a twist or tangle. Then I venture in, hoping against all odds that I'll find my way.
He always gets me.
----
Most of the time you think you have yourself all figured out, when really, you spend so much time and effort hiding yourself that when you want to take a look back inside, the way to your heart is so twisted and tangled, you can barely breathe.
Barely breathing. That's actually an interesting subject for a quick flashback...
Five years ago, a dear friend told me that she had prayed to God something weird. She asked God that she could need Him more than she needed air, and that whenever she wasn't looking for Him, she could feel like she would if she stopped breathing.
A week later, she started complaining about shortness of breath.
... so, back to the subject.
When you finally get a glimpse of what is behind the twists and tangles, you're in for a big surprise. You had it all wrong. They were right. But it doesn't really matter... He was right. So, now what are you going to do? Which is basically the important question. What are you going to do?
What am I going to do?
Once He starts showing you behind the curtain, if you don't step up and challenge yourself to go through that particular curtain, you won't ever get to see the curtain that's behind.
I personally think you should. Or at least I should. Step up and challenge, that is.
There's this quote another friend gave me once in a letter she wrote to me. There's only two important letters I've lost. That one is one of those.
"Todo cambio atemoriza, en especial aquellos que soñamos con realizar. No hay garantías, solo la ilusión de alcanzar lo que deseamos. Cada paso es un salto al vacio pero tambien a la posibilidad de realización."
I hold on to that when I find myself before a twist or tangle. Then I venture in, hoping against all odds that I'll find my way.
He always gets me.
Monday, June 26, 2006
La princesa (version inedita)
Erase una vez una princesa. Esta era una princesa hermosa, que había heredado la hermosura y sabiduría de su padre. Tenía un cuarto hermoso, pero la princesa no quería salir. Ella creía que si abría la puerta y salía, alguien la podría lastimar o hacer algún daño. Pasaron los años, y algunas veces se escuchaba a personas pasar fuera de la puerta, sin embargo, la princesa nunca abría: No vaya a ser que fuera a ser lastimada.
Pasaron más años y la princesa empezó a creer que algo estaba mal. Se sentía protegida tras los muros de su cuarto, pero ella sabía: algo estaba mal. Pasaron más años, y alguien tocó la puerta. La princesa realmente dudó si debía abrir o no. Temía salir y que algo terrible pasara. Tras pensarlo detenidamente, decidió no abrir.
Pasaron más años, y la princesa murió. Fue un día muy triste, y la princesa fue enterrada en el jardín trasero del palacio, que nunca llegó a conocer.
Lo triste de esta historia, no es que la princesa no quisiera salir, sino que al no abrir la puerta por miedo a salir y enfrentarse con dolor y dificultad afuera, no se dio cuenta que al nadie pudo entrar y así conocerla y ver cómo era.
Y así murió la princesa. Sin descubrir que había todo un mundo que conocer allá afuera. Sin dejar que nadie descubriera que había todo un mundo dentro de su cuarto. Dentro de ella.
Pasaron más años y la princesa empezó a creer que algo estaba mal. Se sentía protegida tras los muros de su cuarto, pero ella sabía: algo estaba mal. Pasaron más años, y alguien tocó la puerta. La princesa realmente dudó si debía abrir o no. Temía salir y que algo terrible pasara. Tras pensarlo detenidamente, decidió no abrir.
Pasaron más años, y la princesa murió. Fue un día muy triste, y la princesa fue enterrada en el jardín trasero del palacio, que nunca llegó a conocer.
Lo triste de esta historia, no es que la princesa no quisiera salir, sino que al no abrir la puerta por miedo a salir y enfrentarse con dolor y dificultad afuera, no se dio cuenta que al nadie pudo entrar y así conocerla y ver cómo era.
Y así murió la princesa. Sin descubrir que había todo un mundo que conocer allá afuera. Sin dejar que nadie descubriera que había todo un mundo dentro de su cuarto. Dentro de ella.
Monday, June 12, 2006
Blogmania
He tenido varias ideas para escribir en el blog, pero cada vez que me siento a escribir siempre encuentro algo mejor que hacer (je) asi que en realidad este es solamente un post para aquellos que todavía leen el blog, que no quiero lo dejen de leer porque nunca lo updateo.
ok, es mas, aquellos que gustan de perder tiempo leyendo blogs o cosillas interesantes, les recomiendo mis dos blogs favoritos:
www.pamie.com
www.dooce.com
El primero es el blog de una escritora que vive en Los Angeles. A ella me la "topé" mientras leía recapitulaciones de programas en televisionwithoutpity.com. Su blog básicamente habla de ella y de su vida. Literalmente. Tiene un estilo de escritura muy, ¿como les explicaré? pues ligero en el sentido que se siente como si estuvieran platicandote algo en persona, pero es muy transparente en sus escritos de manera que puedes ver su sentir sobre el tema que está tratando. Aveces es muy chistosa... la palabra adecuada, en realidad para ambos blogs que mencioné es "snarky" que seria una especie de sarcasmo/chiste/no-sarcastico... jajaja... eso me lleva al segundo blog.
El segundo blog es de una señora que vive en Utah, la capital de los mormones. Tiene una hija HERMOSA sobre la cual escribe frecuentemente y también pone videos de su hija haciendo troncadas hermosas. Lo divertido de está señora es su estilo, porque es muy directa y no tiene pelos en la lengua. Exhibe su manera de vida de una manera muy abierta (digo, dentro de lo que cabe) y lo hace con un estilo increible, porque detalla las cosas más sencillas de una manera entretenida, y generalmente me hace reir.
Ahora. Oscar R los leyó dos o tres veces, y no le gustaron mucho. Sin embargo, esos blogs son para aquellos que gustan de tener uno o dos, o tres... jeje. blogs que leen seguido, como si estuvieran viendo una serie. El tema a tratar puede ser diferente pero siempre es alrededor de la misma historia, y tiene secuencia y conoces a los personajes, te haces de favoritos y de aquellos que nomas no te caen. Simpatizas con ellos, te ries con ellos, aveces te dan ganas de llorar con ellos (because actually doing it would be lame. shuttup I have not cried!).
Bueno. Los dejo hasta la próxima.
ok, es mas, aquellos que gustan de perder tiempo leyendo blogs o cosillas interesantes, les recomiendo mis dos blogs favoritos:
www.pamie.com
www.dooce.com
El primero es el blog de una escritora que vive en Los Angeles. A ella me la "topé" mientras leía recapitulaciones de programas en televisionwithoutpity.com. Su blog básicamente habla de ella y de su vida. Literalmente. Tiene un estilo de escritura muy, ¿como les explicaré? pues ligero en el sentido que se siente como si estuvieran platicandote algo en persona, pero es muy transparente en sus escritos de manera que puedes ver su sentir sobre el tema que está tratando. Aveces es muy chistosa... la palabra adecuada, en realidad para ambos blogs que mencioné es "snarky" que seria una especie de sarcasmo/chiste/no-sarcastico... jajaja... eso me lleva al segundo blog.
El segundo blog es de una señora que vive en Utah, la capital de los mormones. Tiene una hija HERMOSA sobre la cual escribe frecuentemente y también pone videos de su hija haciendo troncadas hermosas. Lo divertido de está señora es su estilo, porque es muy directa y no tiene pelos en la lengua. Exhibe su manera de vida de una manera muy abierta (digo, dentro de lo que cabe) y lo hace con un estilo increible, porque detalla las cosas más sencillas de una manera entretenida, y generalmente me hace reir.
Ahora. Oscar R los leyó dos o tres veces, y no le gustaron mucho. Sin embargo, esos blogs son para aquellos que gustan de tener uno o dos, o tres... jeje. blogs que leen seguido, como si estuvieran viendo una serie. El tema a tratar puede ser diferente pero siempre es alrededor de la misma historia, y tiene secuencia y conoces a los personajes, te haces de favoritos y de aquellos que nomas no te caen. Simpatizas con ellos, te ries con ellos, aveces te dan ganas de llorar con ellos (because actually doing it would be lame. shuttup I have not cried!).
Bueno. Los dejo hasta la próxima.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
City blues
Sometimes driving around the city breaks my heart. ..
As much as I enjoy driving, and as much as I enjoy people watching. There are times when it can be too much.
The look on a woman's face.
The grasp of a child's hand.
The smile on two lovers' lips.
A flower.
Lights, and cars, and sounds and music.
But it's just for a brief moment, when in all the flashes and glimpses, that I can see what really lies inside.
The lost look on a woman's face that cries for an unknown Love that's just waiting for her.
The fragile grasp of a child's hand, secured at his father's side. So young, yet so shattered and beaten.
The fighting smile on two lovers' lips, deep inside each others embrace, dying, trying to reach an everlasting.
A flower. A single flower, being torn by the wind.
Lights, and cars, and sounds and music. The loudest most softest music.
Composed by the comers and the goers. You can't hear it unless you listen closely.
And as the music dances in the air, it breaks my heart. A Million little pieces. Broken. And driving around the city is just not what I want to do today.
As much as I enjoy driving, and as much as I enjoy people watching. There are times when it can be too much.
The look on a woman's face.
The grasp of a child's hand.
The smile on two lovers' lips.
A flower.
Lights, and cars, and sounds and music.
But it's just for a brief moment, when in all the flashes and glimpses, that I can see what really lies inside.
The lost look on a woman's face that cries for an unknown Love that's just waiting for her.
The fragile grasp of a child's hand, secured at his father's side. So young, yet so shattered and beaten.
The fighting smile on two lovers' lips, deep inside each others embrace, dying, trying to reach an everlasting.
A flower. A single flower, being torn by the wind.
Lights, and cars, and sounds and music. The loudest most softest music.
Composed by the comers and the goers. You can't hear it unless you listen closely.
And as the music dances in the air, it breaks my heart. A Million little pieces. Broken. And driving around the city is just not what I want to do today.
Saturday, May 27, 2006
comments
ya sirven los comments! perdon, los tenia deshabilitados!!!
bueno, los dejo y luego en la noche escribo algo de verdad
bueno, los dejo y luego en la noche escribo algo de verdad
Monday, May 15, 2006
Today almost felt like sunday.
Last week I found out that sunday was the first day of the week, rather than the last day of the week. That was a shocker. I've lived my whole life thinking that sunday was the last day. Maybe that's why I hate sundays, rather than loving them.
The thing is, sunday has always been a weird day. Now mondays, those are the days. I mean, c'mon. Who doesn't love beginnings? There's no better thing than knowing His mercies are new every morning. And psychologically, it's easy to transfer a new chance to every new beginning. So for me, sunday ment an end, monday ment a beginning.
It's like this, see...
First day of school: new year, new opportunity to be the smart person you know you are but have been too lazy to be.
First day of the year: it's time to finally do everything you said you would do last year.
First day of any vacation: the day you'll rest the most.
First day of your "next" year (birthday): again, it's time to be and act like someone older.
So today, I was getting into my car after lunch with my dad, when suddently it felt weird. The sun was shining; it was warm, but not terminally hot. Sky semi-clouded. Beautiful reflection in the car window. But, it felt like sunday. I started to panic, so I checked my internal calendar, and then it felt right again: It was not sunday, it was monday.
For all I know, it could've been sunday. But here's the thing. There's no othe day like sunday.
But now that I know that sunday's the first day of the week, maybe that'll make some things different.
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Pérdidas de tieeeeeeeee....mpo!
Todos los días quiero escribir, pero siempre que me siento a escribir siento que va a ser una perdida de tiempo. Ya es tarde, y mañana a las 6 de la mañana voy a llevar a mi mamá al aeropuerto. Ahorita estoy viendo videos en VH1...
nueva mejor voz: Corinne Bailey Rae (bajen la de "Put your record on") es una canción basicamente jazz. Imaginense una mezcla de Norah Jones, Nelly Furtado y un toque de Macy Gray. Se que no suena tan interesante, pero es una combinación de voces muy suave y diferente. Por lo menos para la musica de hoy en día.
Bueno, regresando al tema. Siempre siento que escribir es una perdida de tiempo, aunque me gusta muchísimo. Creo que es como cuando leo. O como cualquier cosa con la que pierdo tiempo en realidad. Me meto tanto en lo que estoy leyendo, o escribiendo, que puedo dejar de hacer todo lo demás, por más importante que sea, solamente para quedarme leyendo o escribiendo.
El problema está realmente en mi inhabilidad de priorizar y organizarme. Pierdo el tiempo con cosas tontas, y cuando quiero hacer algo que me gusta y que sería "provechozo" (ej. leer o escribir) no lo hago, porque ya perdí demasiado tiempo en la computadora o haciendo la nada.... jajaja. Me entienden?
jajajaajajja.. freddie prince jr. se acaba de quedar sin pelo.
Bueno, realmente tengo que dedicar un día de estos a escribir algo interesante. Lo prometo.
nueva mejor voz: Corinne Bailey Rae (bajen la de "Put your record on") es una canción basicamente jazz. Imaginense una mezcla de Norah Jones, Nelly Furtado y un toque de Macy Gray. Se que no suena tan interesante, pero es una combinación de voces muy suave y diferente. Por lo menos para la musica de hoy en día.
Bueno, regresando al tema. Siempre siento que escribir es una perdida de tiempo, aunque me gusta muchísimo. Creo que es como cuando leo. O como cualquier cosa con la que pierdo tiempo en realidad. Me meto tanto en lo que estoy leyendo, o escribiendo, que puedo dejar de hacer todo lo demás, por más importante que sea, solamente para quedarme leyendo o escribiendo.
El problema está realmente en mi inhabilidad de priorizar y organizarme. Pierdo el tiempo con cosas tontas, y cuando quiero hacer algo que me gusta y que sería "provechozo" (ej. leer o escribir) no lo hago, porque ya perdí demasiado tiempo en la computadora o haciendo la nada.... jajaja. Me entienden?
jajajaajajja.. freddie prince jr. se acaba de quedar sin pelo.
Bueno, realmente tengo que dedicar un día de estos a escribir algo interesante. Lo prometo.
Monday, May 08, 2006
victory
11:16 pm... victory!!
No puedo ni empezar a expresar lo contenta que estoy por cómo nos fue en el trabajo que presentamos hoy. Aparte del estupendo dolor de cabeza que tengo, tengo ganas de brincar y correr y gritar y disfrutar del hecho que *insert victory dance here* nos fue bien!!
ok. ya no puedo mas. los dejo, me voy a acabar una tarea express de geografía y DORMIREEEEEEEE!!!! wuju!!
luego les platico que pasó con todo el bisnes
No puedo ni empezar a expresar lo contenta que estoy por cómo nos fue en el trabajo que presentamos hoy. Aparte del estupendo dolor de cabeza que tengo, tengo ganas de brincar y correr y gritar y disfrutar del hecho que *insert victory dance here* nos fue bien!!
ok. ya no puedo mas. los dejo, me voy a acabar una tarea express de geografía y DORMIREEEEEEEE!!!! wuju!!
luego les platico que pasó con todo el bisnes
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Wilderness Prayer
Oh Jesus, my Jesus,
True Friend of my heart,
true Lover of my soul, My heart is hurting.
My soul is aching.
All that I have ever been,
All of my "beauties" falling, falling to the ground.
The goodness, the righteousness,
The good intentions and "right" motives,
Dropping layer by layer...
Leaving behind one that I do not even know or recognize...
The Lover of my love strips me
And as the hidden things are uncovered
And the exterior beauties taken,
I am not what I thought I was.
I know it is by Your hand that I am stripped.
Though it hurts immensely,
I recognize it as a Love deeper than my heart has ever known
Taking away what will not stand
That He might crown me with His true beauty
And clothe me in His robes.
Truly, I am not the one that I thought myself to be.
They ask me "then who is the one who comes?"
I look only to Your eyes and say,
"She is nothing but what He alone speaks her into being.
His words alone hold within the essence of who she is. She is His.
Do not look upon me, for I am dark.
Please see only Him. He is the beautiful. He is the pure."
- escrito por: Dana Candler
True Friend of my heart,
true Lover of my soul, My heart is hurting.
My soul is aching.
All that I have ever been,
All of my "beauties" falling, falling to the ground.
The goodness, the righteousness,
The good intentions and "right" motives,
Dropping layer by layer...
Leaving behind one that I do not even know or recognize...
The Lover of my love strips me
And as the hidden things are uncovered
And the exterior beauties taken,
I am not what I thought I was.
I know it is by Your hand that I am stripped.
Though it hurts immensely,
I recognize it as a Love deeper than my heart has ever known
Taking away what will not stand
That He might crown me with His true beauty
And clothe me in His robes.
Truly, I am not the one that I thought myself to be.
They ask me "then who is the one who comes?"
I look only to Your eyes and say,
"She is nothing but what He alone speaks her into being.
His words alone hold within the essence of who she is. She is His.
Do not look upon me, for I am dark.
Please see only Him. He is the beautiful. He is the pure."
- escrito por: Dana Candler
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
No soy
porque serlo no me permitiría ver que no soy nada.
porque serlo no me permite ver que no soy nada.
entonces: no soy
porque serlo no me permite ver que no soy nada.
entonces: no soy
Monday, May 01, 2006
arduo trabajooooh!
en gran honor a la perdida de tiempo que sufrimos en casa de paola. re-re-comienzo mi blog!! *insert victory dance here*
bueno. es mi máxima intención poder escribir aquí seguido... (aqui lleva acento? es que en esta cosa no hay corrector automático, entonces me da flojera poner acentos... asi k si me faltan, lo siento)
Bueno. Es Lunes, son las 2:30 de la tarde. Estamos trabajando en una platica para la red, falta nomas Daniel porque esta en Mcallen, comprandome mis vans, en contra de mi deseo de que APOYEN A NUESTROS COMPATRIOTAS los imigrantes que estan en estados unidos... pero bueno, ni que hacer.
Ya estamos semi avanzados en la platica. Lucer nos ayudo explicandonos como hacerlo con un tema hipotetico que coincidentemente era el mismo que acababamos de escoger... asi que nos sentamos todos alrededor de la lap a ver a Lucero decirnos como los de la red de Lore le hacian para hacer sus platicas, y cada que decía algo mas que estabamos haciendo, se escuchaban los gritos de victoria y alivio en casa de Paola.... confirmación divina, por decirlo de alguna manera. No hay mayor satisfacción, (bueno, estoy exagerando pero es una satisfacción grande) que ver que lo que pensabas que quería Dios que hiciera se vea confirmado... no importa si a la mera hora se va a cambiar todo, algo se aprende de lo primero... asi como aprendimos del desastre conocido como "primera platica hecha por el grupo completo de itzel"...
en fin... es lunes, no hay clases. vamos a tener red hasta las 7:20, lo cual es genial porque me da tiempo de hacer tarea and such antes de la red... lo mejor de esta semana es que el viernes tampoco hay clase... lo cual significa que de cuatro clases de física, unicamente vamos a tener dos... *insert victory dance here*
Bueno, es suficiente para hoy... realmente espero poder volver a escribir pronto... no se sorprendan si a la mera hora no vuelvo a escribir sino hasta como en tres meses...
ciao! (en mi vida he dicho eso, pero bueno, en honor al re-re-comienzo!)
bueno. es mi máxima intención poder escribir aquí seguido... (aqui lleva acento? es que en esta cosa no hay corrector automático, entonces me da flojera poner acentos... asi k si me faltan, lo siento)
Bueno. Es Lunes, son las 2:30 de la tarde. Estamos trabajando en una platica para la red, falta nomas Daniel porque esta en Mcallen, comprandome mis vans, en contra de mi deseo de que APOYEN A NUESTROS COMPATRIOTAS los imigrantes que estan en estados unidos... pero bueno, ni que hacer.
Ya estamos semi avanzados en la platica. Lucer nos ayudo explicandonos como hacerlo con un tema hipotetico que coincidentemente era el mismo que acababamos de escoger... asi que nos sentamos todos alrededor de la lap a ver a Lucero decirnos como los de la red de Lore le hacian para hacer sus platicas, y cada que decía algo mas que estabamos haciendo, se escuchaban los gritos de victoria y alivio en casa de Paola.... confirmación divina, por decirlo de alguna manera. No hay mayor satisfacción, (bueno, estoy exagerando pero es una satisfacción grande) que ver que lo que pensabas que quería Dios que hiciera se vea confirmado... no importa si a la mera hora se va a cambiar todo, algo se aprende de lo primero... asi como aprendimos del desastre conocido como "primera platica hecha por el grupo completo de itzel"...
en fin... es lunes, no hay clases. vamos a tener red hasta las 7:20, lo cual es genial porque me da tiempo de hacer tarea and such antes de la red... lo mejor de esta semana es que el viernes tampoco hay clase... lo cual significa que de cuatro clases de física, unicamente vamos a tener dos... *insert victory dance here*
Bueno, es suficiente para hoy... realmente espero poder volver a escribir pronto... no se sorprendan si a la mera hora no vuelvo a escribir sino hasta como en tres meses...
ciao! (en mi vida he dicho eso, pero bueno, en honor al re-re-comienzo!)
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