And yet another experimental scene, but instead of describing a place, it describes a person. Instead of creating a whole new character I just reused Sam from one of my previous posts The Visitor.
Matthew Evans was not an ordinary boy. In fact he was what some people would call peculiar. But compared to the circumstances Sam had recently found himself in, nothing seemed strange anymore. In fact to Sam, he seemed like a rather ordinary joe . . . at first.
From across the busy intersection Sam could see that he was wearing a pair of old no-name shoes, a pair of blue jeans and a brown long sleeve shirt. The crosswalk sign gave the signal and Sam began to walk. As he came closer he could see that on his right arm Matthew was wearing a watch, no, a stopwatch, and very similar to the one he was wearing. In his left hand he carried a cell phone which he talked into. It was hard to tell what he was saying over the noise of the traffic but noting the concerned look on his face it was obviously something important. Matthew also had dark brown eyes, which never stayed in one place, and above them was a mop of slightly tousled brown hair.
When Sam was halfway across the intersection Matthew spotted him. Quickly he ended the conversation with whoever he was talking to and slipped the phone into his pocket. By then Sam was just stepping onto the sidewalk.
“Hello there . . .” he began.
“No time for that,” Matthew interrupted.
“Huh?”
“Or that. I’ll introduce myself later. But first, I gotta get you out o’ here.
Another experimental paragraph, this time in first person.
For the second time I knocked on the door to the captain’s cabin.
“Captain Morris?”
Silence.
I grasped the door handle and, finding it unlocked, opened the door and scanned the room.
No sign of him anywhere, then I spotted his officer’s coat hanging from the bedpost. Strange, I thought. He never leaves his cabin without his jacket.
I walked over to the captain’s desk and admired his array of maps, charts, and various navigational instruments all organized and in their proper place. Off to the side and seemingly out of place, like a flower amongst rocks, there was a little picture frame enclosing a portrait of his beloved wife Susan. I picked up one of his many feather quill pens and stroked the soft barbs.
Completely forgetting my purpose of being down in the captain’s cabin I put down the feather and strolled over to the mirror above his chest-o’-drawers. I straightened my collar and donned his tricorn hat. Looking in the mirror, I could imagine the days when I would eventually become a captain, with my own desk and room and . . . a whole ship with trusty sailors ready to do anything at my command. I took a whiff of the fresh sea air coming in through the open window. Oh yes, those would be the days.
I walked back over to his desk, picked up his spyglass, and looked out the window. Then I saw it: the ship of Bart Roberts. I stared through the spyglass for a few moments before flinging the hat and spyglass on the desk then dashing through the doorway and up the stairs to the deck shouting “Pirates! Man the guns! Prepare for battle!”
A experimental paragraph I wrote describing an environment and a fictitious character's reaction to it.
Sam opened his eyes, the ringing sound faded away as the last streaks of blue cleared from his vision. He sat up, looked around, and found that he was in a forest. A very ancient forest by the look; old gnarled trees with massive limbs reaching in all directions stood at regular intervals from each other. He drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out for the smell of the forest was not, as one might expect, musty or rotten but fresh and energizing. He stood, began to walk around, and smiled. The sun shone down in great shafts between the branches of the trees, illuminating the thick oak leaves. As he walked, all was quiet except for a slight breeze which rustled in the leaves overhead. It was not an eerie quiet but a peaceful and yet surreal quiet. This was no wonder to Sam of course, the places those strange doors led to always seemed so very real while at the same time carried a hint of replication, like a painting which looks realistic but at the same time is just a painting. If only I knew it were real, he thought. He walked over to one of the trees and brushed his hand against its rough bark. He stood there for what seemed like only a few minutes, but could have been hours, when he was startled back to his senses by a beeping sound. He looked down at the small digital stopwatch on his right arm which read 00:10 and counting. “Time to go,” he said aloud, then returning to where he had lain before lay down and waited. The stopwatch continued beeping with every second that passed, 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . 0 . . . . Suddenly the trees, the light, the moss on the rocks all flickered blue and in a second, was gone.
I always have this list of movies that I want to see or can't wait to see. Right now it's at record length.
Let's see, there's:
1) Inception
2) Robin Hood
3) Despicable Me
4) Toy Story 3
5) Tangled
6) The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
7) Batman Begins
8) The Dark Knight (Yeah, I havent seen either of these, although I did see the Prestige which was pretty awesome)
There's more, but I can't think of them at the moment.
I've been working on some pretty awesome music these days. I should post it on my music blog (which by the way I am making some changes to) sometime around here.
Yesterday . . . no, the day before yesterday the family and I went and saw How to Train Your Dragon at the [two] dollar theater. I have to say, I loved it. Great story, great soundtrack, other than a very few things here and there, it is now one of my favorite animated movies yet. I was thinking of writing my own review of the movie but after reading an article by N. D. Wilson on it which pretty much says everything I would've, I decided to just post a link to his article.
Over the past weekend my family and I went on a vacation with all of my Mom's immediate family to Gatlinburg, Tennessee. It's been a tradition we've had going for several years now. I don't want to expound on this subject now, but I will give my favorite highlight of the trip. One day we headed over to the Museum of Appalachia, an awesome museum about an hour west and north of Gatlinburg.
Outside one of the buildings at the museum there were two musicians playing folk tunes on the violin and guitar. Naturally I was attracted to this performance (seeing I like both the violin and folk music). In between each song they would stop and talk to the listeners or ask for suggestions on songs to play. During one of these intermissions one of my relatives (I can't remember which one) mentioned to the performers that I played the violin (fiddle is what they called it). The performers expressed interest and asked if I wanted to join them in playing. Now I, being trained to play the violin mainly through classical music, was slightly hesitant. They went ahead and played a few more songs and once again asked if I wanted to play. I gave in. I played a few fiddle songs and they joined in with other instruments on the songs they knew. It was awesome. I thoroughly enjoyed it and as far as I know I think they did too.
Yesterday - like I do on most Mondays - I mowed the yard. Our yard is quite large so it usually takes two to three hours to finish. During these monotonous hours of Monday mowing (I just came up with that on the fly!) I usually have two, or sometimes three, sided conversations with myself. I'll even base different sides of the conversation off of my friends. It can get pretty intense (basically, awesome).
If I'm not carrying on a conversation I like to use the time to do a lot of good, hard thinking. Not just ordinary thinking but thinking. Like thinking about what it means to have true happiness, or why people love to dump the the Law of Moses when Jesus specifically said that he had not come to abolish the Law but to fulfill it (Matthew 5:17-18). Yeah, thinking.
Other times when I mow I simply, well, daydream. Today was one of those other times. Now I will attempt to describe to you all that I daydreamed about (don't ask me why).
At the start, when I first got on the mower, I was already thinking about all of my various friends and their personalities (now you know where I get the idea to include them in my conversations). I noted how a sizable portion of my good friends are out-of-state. Not to say that I don't have any good friends locally; I do. I pondered this and after awhile came to the conclusion that the reason my out-of-state friends are really good ones is because in order for us to keep up a relationship we have had to make an effort to do so. And in doing so it has made the friendship strong.
With that conclusion, the previous thread of thoughts came to a close. For awhile I simply watched the grass being brutally run over, chopped to pieces, and then thrown back to whence it came. It occurred to me how tough a plant grass actually is. Think about it. That's what I did.
After that, my thoughts hopped from one thing to another for awhile. I cannot remember what all they hopped on. During this time I kept on hitting rocks that would, when run over, make a loud noise and launch through the grass chute, disturbing my thoughts. I became quite angry with the rocks and their rudeness of getting in the way of the mower.
Soon after this I finished up the section of the yard to be mowed with the riding mower and it was time to move on to the section to be done with the push mower (we mow the field beside our house with a riding mower and the grass around the house with a push mower).
Now, I have always been fascinated by small things, particularly scale model miniatures. I've thought it would be cool to have a whole room just for creating miniature towns or scenes in. Of course, even though it would be cool to have something like this, there wouldn't be a whole lot of practicality in it; it would be a hobby. Not to say hobbies are impractical, it would just be an impractical hobby for me. Miniature sets can become quite expensive to make and at this point in life I am looking for things that give me money rather than take. I'm looking for assets. I thought about mini things for a time as I push-mowed. Now you can see why I titled this post "Mini Things."
After awhile my thoughts of mini things disintegrated and went on to many things, which I don't remember. At any rate, soon after my thoughts went to many other things I finished up the last bit of yard, put all the mowing stuff away, and headed inside to freshen up for supper. I really don't know were I'm going with all this but in any event you've had a small peek inside my head and saw how I think when I have nothing else to do (mowing requires very little brain work).
* * *
Before I sign off I just wanted to say: Happy Sixth of July Everyone! I know, I know. I'm a little late for the Fourth. Speaking of the Fourth, I was going to tell you what we did on the Fourth. Here's what we did, ready? Nothing much. Come to think of it we really just hung around the house the whole day until my parents and older brother went to a wedding in the evening. I know what you're thinking: "how un-patriotic of them to not celebrate our very own country's birthday." But just hold yer horses and don't get yer panties in a wad, because we did celebrate . . . on the third. We went to some friends house, ate hamburgers and hot dogs and then lit some sparklers and in general, had a good time. Isn't that the point of holidays? :P
Well, I'm getting tired of writing so I will leave you with a cool song:
“This here’s a hold-up! So put yer ‘ands on yer head and go sit in that chair over thar,” said the robber to the bank teller as he cocked his revolver. “Now you jest stay thar and don’t get any ideas about callin’ fer help.”
“Y-yes sum – I mean, sir, er . . .” stuttered the nervous teller as he stiffly moved over to the chair and sat down. I’m sure to get it good from old Smithers this time, he thought. These thieves always seem to know just the right times for a hold-up, what with the Sherriff out o’ town and all.
“Now, give me the key to the back room and keep a hand on yer head. Hurry now, Sherriff’s due back any minute.”
Using one hand, the teller reached for his belt and began removing an oversized ring with one brass key on it. After a bit of struggling he successfully removed the ring and began to hand it to the thief. “Here you are –
“Sshh! Did you hear a bark?” asked the robber.
Horatio!? Thought the teller. “I don’t –
“Aw, just gimme the key”
Just as the robber grabbed the key ring from the teller and began walking toward the back room, there was a quick shuffling outside the front doorway. The robber turned around quickly and was about to say something to the teller, but before he could get his words out found himself on the ground staring into the snarling face of a black Labrador. He instinctively reached for his gun, which was knocked from his hand during the tackle.
“Whew!” exclaimed the teller kicking the gun further away from the thief. “You came just in time Horatio, good boy!” He leaned down and took the keys from the petrified thief.
Consider the previous excerpt from a short story. Does it make you want to get a dog? If not, at least you appreciate the existence of the Labrador in the story. Now, say I was to change a few things in the story, replace the dog with a cat. It just wouldn’t work, would it? Granted, I like cats, but dogs – in my opinion – are better.
Cats are smart and warm and fuzzy. Not all dogs are fuzzy or necessarily cuddly, but they are very smart. Cats look cute and can be quite funny at times. Not all dogs may look cute or have funny antics, but those are the ones who are the mountain man’s hunting partner or the fireman’s most reliable rescue dog. Both of these creatures can be trained to be good indoor or outdoor pets. Now, with these similarities it may look as if the Cat and the Dog are on equal par. Not so, I say.
Dogs are usually friendly; cats can be friendly, but most carry a sort of “hostile” propriety. Both indoor and outdoor dogs can be trained to go outside and do their “business” in a designated spot. Cats can do the same but are harder to train. Even though cats clean themselves by licking and dogs usually don’t, cats sometime or another will have to get rid of what they cleaned themselves of; hence, hairballs on your carpet. Dogs come in a variety of shapes and sizes, so you have a wide selection to pick from when choosing one. There are larger versions of cats, but, let’s just they aren’t very cuddly.
By now, I think you get my point. I really like dogs. Yes, there some breeds of dogs I do not like, such as the ones who have been bred and bred to be smaller and smaller (and smaller . . . you might as well get a hamster) or to have more and more of a squished face. Most of those toy dogs are ugly and yappy. I tend to like the more robust and larger hounds, ready to wallop bad guys, go for a hunt, or just sit out on the porch and watch the sun go down.
So, just the other day I was playing around and came up with this little melody. I took it a few steps further by adding a few more harmonizing melodies, arranged it for a small orchestra, and, tada! I might use it in something eventually, maybe a single movement work for the orchestra. It almost has that "Symphonic Italian" sound if you know what I mean. I have a recording you can listen to here.
Also, I have a few other songs in making right now. Hope to post (sometime) in the near future.
The Violin Sonata No. 5 in F major, Opus 24, is a violin sonata by Ludwig van Beethoven. It is often known as the "Spring" sonata, and was published in 1801. Its dedicatee was Count Moritz von Fries, a patron to whom the fourth violin sonata, the string quintet of the same year, and the seventh symphony were also dedicated.
The work is in four movements:
Allegro
Adagio molto espressivo
Scherzo: Allegro molto
Rondo: Allegro ma non troppo
The Scherzo and its trio are particularly brief (and as pointed out here the scherzo is canonic).
~Wikipedia
To you music people out there, this probably makes sense. But not everybody is a music people, I will explain.
Basically what the previous quote means is that Beethoven's 5th violin sonata is a sonata (duh) with four totally awesome movements. It really is sweet sounding.
To show you how awesome it actually is, I have imbedded videos of all four movements.
By the way, I have a recital coming up in about a week and I'm planning on learning this after it.
I have recently been listening to the score for the movie Gladiator. It was written by Hans Zimmer so naturally, it's amazing. One of my personal favorites. I love how he uses a lot of sweeping and flowing melodies in comparison with many of his other scores.
Here are three of my favorite songs from the soundtrack.
I am very interested in art. Art has always been a great inspiration for me in many ways including music composition. Some of the great composers wrote whole symphonies based off of paintings. Whenever I see a good painting or drawing I always find myself wanting to get out my pencil and paper and create a masterpiece. Although I may not be an amazing artist, I enjoy drawing.
I haven't been drawing very much recently but am starting to back into it. Anyhow, I decided that I would let you, yes you, the reader, witness some drawings from my past (and present). They are shown in order of date - oldest ones being at the top and newest ones being at the bottom. Note: You must know before viewing these as a critic that I have never had a single art lesson in my life.
2006
2007
2008
2009
And last of all is a prelimenary scetch of some friends daughters. I hope to do the final sometime :~).
Also I'm going to get some picture of some drawings from 2010 on here soon.
So, I recently finished up two of my compositions (see title).
The first composition was one I had started back in November. It had really been a kind of exercise I had set up for myself to get my crative juices flowing again after being in a session of dryness in composing. Anyhow I had put it on hold for awhile (my creative juices had got flowin' so well from my exercise I couldn't stay on one project) and just recently finished it up. Here is A Short Scene of the Mountains.
The next composition was also a sort of exercise, but more recent. I guess when you're kind of green in composition anything new is an exercise :). I had never composed much action/suspense music and wanted to try my hand at it. So here is Flight to the Mountains (what is it with me and and my songs including the word "mountain"?).
My little brother Benjamin is into to yo-yoing and has been so for about a year now. Benjamin also has a friend named Charlie Byers who is also a yo-er and is Benjamin's so called "yoyo teacher" (Charlie is the same age as my little brother). The thing is both Benjamin and Charlie started yo-yoing at the same time. It's an interesting story how they got all into spinning wheels attached to the ends of strings, but that's another story I don't have time to tell right now. As you can tell Charlie either spends all day yo-yoing or has some serious talent. Anyhow, what's the point of having an awesome story about a child prodigy if I don't have any evidence or some sort of proof to impress you with? Well, keep reading and you'll get just that.
Around this time last year Charlie headed down to Florida to see if he could place in the Florida State Yoyo Competition. At that time he had only been yo-yoing for a few months. Unfortunately he didn't place anything but was sure to try again next year. Try again he did . . . and placed third. Now, just in case you're wondering, he wasn't competing with guys his age, he was facing professional adult yo-ers. Pretty awesome. And now for the proof: below is a video his mom took of him doing his performance.
As many of you people reading this know, my dad has taken various missions trips to India since 2003. Both Cooper and I have gone on trips with him. My mom had wanted to go but didn't know how well it would work leaving Benjamin and Courage at home. In the end it all worked out and she was able to go with one of her friends (who had been part of a team my dad took) while my dad was working in Tennessee and a friend stayed with my brothers and I at home. After all, I can't do all the cooking myself and I don't have a drivers license.
Anyhow, I would tell you about the trip but seeing I didn't go on it I think you would get a better version of the story from my mom. Here is an email she sent out the day after she got back:
Hi,
I got back yesterday from India very full and but very tired. Mostly form the long flight. I don't quite know where to begin but I thought while it was still fresh on my mind I would go ahead a send a short report. First I want to say thanks so much for your prayers! I didn't have a minutes trouble adjusting to the food and the culture. No stomach problems, no problem sleeping, no longing for American conveniences. I gained a new appreciation for community life.
The Kandal family quickly became members of the family in my heart. They live a very simple lifestyle, much slower than ours. Breakfast at 9-10am, lunch at 2-3pm and dinner around 9-10pm. Bed time isn't usually until 11:00pm or later. Power outages are random and water provision is random. You eat with your right hand and you clean... with your left. Bucket showers are very refreshing and the coffee is very sweet. Rice is served in huge heaps and at nearly every meal. They drop everything on the ground and later sweep it all up. The Muslims announce morning prayers over a citywide loudspeaker system at about 5am and then again around 6am or so. They may do it more than that but that's when I noticed it most. It was my alarm clock. The nice thing about that was that no one else seemed to notice so I would get up and have some quite time with the Lord each morning on the balcony over the street and I could watch the town wake up. Oxen pulling trailers with granite pillars and boys carrying fresh milk home to mom for morning tea. People on bikes with a bell ringing the whole way trying to draw attention to something he was selling. Children in their uniforms headed to school. Women would come out and sweep the dirt in front of their house and then sprinkle something like white chalk in a curly pattern the dirt where a door mat would lie. I would sit there and feel so thankful that God had given me a chance to know these people the way Jay does. They are a beautiful people.
Sarah (my team member and friend) and I arrived in Bangalore on Wednesday at 3:00 in the morning. Arvind (Aruna's brother) and Sunil (his cousin from Bangalore) were waiting there for us. We went to a place called the CSI Women's Center. It's like a training center for Christians in Bangalore and I think it's run by the Episcopalians. We stayed in their guest house. It was very comfortable and lovely. Had running water and western toilets. Thin hard mattresses and delicious coffee. We spent one day there resting from the flight and Thursday morning headed to the train station for KGF. We got on the train and got a seat. Every stop the train got fuller and fuller until there were no seats and everyone was packed in tight. Jay was right, there's no such thing as personal space in India. I gave some school boys some bubble gum. They really enjoyed trying to blow bubbles.
We arrived in KGF to find Wendy with her YWAM team there preparing to go out for the day. That was nice in that it gave us a chance to get to know the family. They had a going away party for the team that night that was lots of fun with lights and streamers and good food. They left on Friday morning but Wendy stayed behind until Monday. She helped acclimate Sarah and I to Indian culture since she had been there two weeks already. Friday evening we went to a village that Laban had never taken a team to before. Pastor Solomon was in that village. We went house to house for a while praying for people. The first house we went to I thought was very small but I was to discover just how much smaller they could get. We then went to the small church that was packed out with children. The adults we took did a good Samaritan skit and then asked for volunteers from the children to do it again. A little boy in the doorway with a white Muslim hat volunteered to be the traveler. We were very excited about that. When it was over Wendy shared with the children a very clear simple message about how Jesus wants to be our friend and how he is the only one who can answer our prayers. The little Muslim boy came forward for prayer with the other children at the end. God touched many people that night as lots of adults also asked for prayer. One lady couldn't use her fingers in her left hand but after prayer she was able to make a very tight grip. Several of us got a good squeeze. When we left town we were followed out by lots people as we loaded into the van. They are so hungry for the one true God. The harvest is ripe.
I won't go through everyday but if you would like more details let me know I have lots more stories to tell. But here's one more quick one...while in a village called Ganeralli we were in the home of a woman who said she had accepted Jesus. She wanted prayer but Arvind noticed the Hindu pictures on her wall and told her that Jesus couldn't share his glory with idols and that if she wanted peace in her home she needed to remove the idols. She got up right then and started taking them down off the walls. We were very happy for her the step she made for Jesus.
We went to the market which was a wonderful experience. Aruna's sister, Hyma, is quite a bargainer . We had lunch in a Muslim families home which was a delight and we also went to a wedding reception which was a great experience. Very different from our weddings. Sarah made lots of pictures so when I get some copies I will also share some of them. Let me know if you would like to see some.
Though I was so happy to return to my wonderful family and friends, part of my heart remains in India. These people are so hungry for the real God and the salvation of Jesus that I hope that one day all my family will experience this amazing culture and know these beautiful people. Thank you so much for praying for me and for my family that remained behind. I am especially thankful to Rachel Everson for loving and caring for my children while Jay and I were away. (Jay had work in TN) She cared for them as her own and they had a great time here with her. She was caring for India from right here in GA. I hope one day she too can experience the wonderful people of India.
I also want to thank Sarah Altman for going with me. She was a trooper. She loved the people, the food, the experiences, and the accommodations. She never complained or grumbled and was always loving on someone, whether it be an orphaned child or an old grandma she was such a blessing and I can't imagine not being there without her. She was such a delight!
There's one more person I want to thank, Arvind Kandal, Aruna's brother. He took care to make sure Sarah and I were well cared for. He understood we didn't always know the culture and would help us understand how they do things. If we needed something he was always making sure we got it, from toilet paper to bottled water. He translated for us until his brain was tired and went without sleep in order to get us where we needed to go. I can't imagine India without him. He was and is such a blessing! God is growing him into an amazing man of God.
Please continue to pray for Laban and Mariama Kandal and their family. They love the poor and are bringing them into their home and caring for them like their own. There were two little orphaned girls who came two days before we came. The first day I arrived one of them was sitting beside me as I taught them English words for things. I looked down at her hair and it was crawling with lice. Two days later I treated about 5-6 children for head lice with instructions on future treatments. Arvind brought one little boy home in December that he met in a village. His name is Daniel. He is about 5 years old and couldn't speak much when he came. Arvind clothes him, teaches him life skills, and looks after him like his own child. He will begin going to school in June when the new sessions start. Arvind is a 27 year old single guy and third child of the Kandal family yet he has taken in an orphaned boy to raise like his own. He is gentle and kind to Daniel and Sarah and I were both touched by his care for him. I don't know many young men who are willing to make this kind of sacrifice.
God bless you and thanks again,
Stephanie
PS If any of this doesn't make sense keep in mind I'm a bit jet lagged! :-)
Well, I was able to take some pictures. We tried making an igloo, however the tempurature had risen to just above freezing so everything started to melt (bummer). Here are the pics of everything (except the igloo):
This is amazing, fantastic, revolutionary! I am so excited. The last time our area had this much snow was around ten years ago, and even then (since I was a youngster in those days) I don't think it was this much. Last time I measured it was at 5" and counting.
Since it is snowing I thought I would make the best of it. So I made a wooden rectangular box with no top for packing snow into and making snow blocks so we can make an igloo. I tested it out and it works great. After packing the snow in, I gave it a firm tap and out slid a perfect block of snow. I hope to start building things tonight. Well, I have to go eat dinner now. Maybe I can post some pictures tomorrow.
Before I say anything else I need to make clear two things. First, the word in the title of this post spelled Phun is not a misspelling of the word fun. And second, Phun happens to be a "2D Physics Sandbox". Basically a physics simulator, and it's free. Visit http://www.phunland.com/wiki/Home for more info.
That said, here are some of my recent makings using Phun.
Hot Air Balloon:
(It flies)
Man (with balloon)
Various bombs and battles and cannnons (they're controlable)
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