Reasons

This is for those that, by being who they are, inspire me to be better than I am. You know who you are.

You have changed me in a way I don't think even I fully recognize. Because of you, I want to be more...I want to be stronger, to know myself, to have integrity.

You - strong-willed, caring, and fully yourself - are what I want to become. Thank you for the inspiration, for your friendship, for caring. I know you don't really think you're as strong as I say you are, but in what counts, you have an integrity, a completeness, that I have never had. Your experiences have shaped my outlook on life.

Because of you, I want to begin my search for reasons. It will take my whole life, but I'm ready to start.

Sub-creation

Man, Sub-creator, the refracted Light
through whom is splintered from a single White
to many hues, and endlessly combined
in living shapes that move from mind to mind.
Though all the crannies of the world are filled
with Elves and Gobblins, though we dare to build
Gods and their houses out of dark and light,
and sowed the seed of dragons - 'twas our right
(used or misused), that right has not decayed,
we make still by the law in which we're made."

J.R.R. Tolkien "On Fairy Stories", pp. 71-72, in Essays Presented to Charles Williams

It's all a bit perplexing, really.

My grip on reality is getting perilously loose. A recent turn of events has totally reshaped everything I thought I knew about my friends, and I realize I need to never make assumptions again. I'm not going into details, but in all honesty, I can say I never saw it coming. I guess I've had a paradigm shift or something.

Don't worry, folks, I'll get over it.

In other news, I just completed my first exam of the week - Postmodernist Literature - and it probably went ok. I had to b.s. way more than I'd have liked on the first question because I had studied entirely the wrong thing (Bah!) but my second question catered exactly to what I'd been studying last night so it went much more smoothly, although it may be too short (which would suck). However, as with all exams of this nature, my overwhelming relief at its being over more than covers any trepidation I may feel about my answers.

Next up: Tolkien and Lewis and - ulp - Calculus. I still need to finish packing too. Lucky me!

Splendor unmatchable

Is it possible for something – a piece of music, a picture, a poem – to inspire one so much it is impossible to do other than write or draw or sing?

Of course it is. But what if something is so magnificent that I can’t do other than make something of my own - but so beautiful that nothing I can do is worthy of its splendor?

I am listening to ‘Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis’ by Ralph Vaughan Williams and it is so beautiful I HAVE to write something or do something of equal inspiration, but at the same time, how is anything I write ever going to match the swell of glorious sound, the joyful solemnity? I am once again reminded of my own smallness in the face of glory beyond my grasp or knowledge – no ability to capture its beauty in any way other than these stilted, small and insufficient words.

Oh, God. How will I ever be worthy of your utter radiance?

I never will be. I can only try to make my own weak, watery imitation of the beauty that you create so easily. I am trying so hard to make my creations worthy of you, the Master Craftsman, who gave me the ability to create, In Your Image – but it will never reach the glory that it could be. This is, I suppose, one of the penalties for being merely human. Imperfect, and always so. Yet, Vaughan Williams reached much closer than I ever could. R.S. Thomas even, in his endless questions, the darkness of his words, managed it. Stephanie Pui-mun Law from DeviantArt, Susan Seddon Boulet, artists who capture the true beauty my mind could never see, reach closer to you than I can, even if they don’t know it. I suppose I must do no other than try, and try again, until my words, my drawings, my machinations, begin to reveal your beauty if only in the weakest light. What else can I do?

Less

Wir waren namenlos
Wir haben einen Namen
Waren wortlos
Die Worte kamen
Etwas sanglos
Sind wir immer noch
Dafür nicht klanglos
Das hört man doch
Wir sind nicht fehlerlos
Nur etwas haltlos
Ihr werdet lautlos
Uns nie los

*We were nameless
We have a name
We were wordless
The words came
Still we are
a little songless
Yet we're not toneless
You do hear it
We aren't flawless
Just a bit anchorless
You will become soundless
You'll never get rid of us

*Not the official translation, but I like it nonetheless. Courtesy of http://herzeleid.com/en/lyrics. Song is, of course, by Rammstein.

An...incident

Here, I have unimpeachable proof that a girl's dorm room can be every bit as scary as a guy's.

Get this: All this evening I kept hearing weird rustling noises in my rubbish bin. I thought it was probably a beetle or something and figured I'd ignore it since I am phenomenally lazy and most bugs (unless they're mosquitos or hissing cockroaches) don't bother me at all. So I left the area alone.

At around 3-ish or 4-ish in the morning, when I was getting about ready to wrap things up and go to bed, I suddenly heard a loud noise and something went flying up from the rubbish bin and landed by the wall. I thought it was perhaps a small rodent or a frog or something because it looked like something small and dark had whizzed by, but when my roommate and I cautiously began moving thing away from the area (it was very cluttered) there was no animal to be found. There was, however, an upended small bottle of what had once been a mango smoothie drink, with its foamy-looking contents all over the papers and things that filled up that corner. I then began to notice the most horrible smell - like something fermented, but not the acceptable smell of alcoholic drinks, mind you - and I realized the leaping "rodent" was in fact the bottle of smoothie, which had exploded from the bin, propelled by its own gas. For some unexplainable reason, it had been put into the bin, upside-down, without being emptied - and the juice inside had fermented, creating a gas powerful enough to actually pop it off its lid (which we never found) and into the air, spewing rotting drink as it went. The small dark thing I had thought to be the rodent or frog had actually been a tea bag, which had obviously been sitting atop this rocket of rancidness.

Oh, glory. This whole corner still stinks to high heaven. I am convinced now there is absolutely no worse smell (except possibly rotting flesh but I have had no experience there so I wouldn't know) than that of rancid, fermented mango smoothie. The whole incident is ridiculous! - And I have to admit I find it supremely hilarious (really it is something I would expect from a guy's dorm room), but all the same...

Oh, yuck.

And here we are.

So, Dublin was a blast. I had my first shot of alcohol (Bailey's) which was unfortunately quite good, and managed to not get drunk although I was supposed to have a different drink at each pub we went to during the pub crawl. It was great fun nonetheless - some the of the pubs were really awesome-looking! We also went to two clubs after that, but the second club sucked because nobody was dancing at all. Rrrrr.

On to more important things - my passions. I was absolutely fulfilled. The first day in Dublin we went to Trinity College and had our look at the Book of Kells. I - words just can't describe - it was impossibly glorious. One of the things I liked best was a video they had of how codexes were made by hand (codex being the bound, book-style we know, rather than scrolls)- it was intriguing and now I want to learn how to make them myself. I shall have to see if I can dig up a course or something for that.

And the ILLUMINATION! Oh, God. I can't even begin - goshdarnit, I wish I could do that! The detail - the colors - the intricacy of all those celtic knots... And did you know that both the peacock and (ironically) the snake are symbols of Christ and the resurrection? I didn't. The actual Book of Kells itself was impressive because I could see for myself how incredibly detailed each illumination was. I think I will have to write a story where the main character is a professional illuminator - or maybe a book-binder. One of the two.

The second day we went to the national museum - another one of my passions. I spent waaaay to long on the stuff about prehistoric Ireland, and by the time I got to Medieval Ireland and Viking Ireland (all things I am VERY much interested in!) I was so drained and full of knowledge I barely glanced at them. You have no idea how AWFUL that is! I wanted to come back later when I was a bit more refreshed, but we went on to other things. Horrible.

The last day we went to Kilkenny on a bus tour. We stopped at Glendalough on the way there, which used to have a small monastery. Some of the buildings were still there, albeit in ruins, and they still use the cemetary. It was beautiful. The day was gorgeous and sunny with a little bit of a breeze, and it was so serene and - spiritual - there. I wandered among the stone ruins and celtic crosses, and felt my spiritual cup being filled more than it has all year at school. The two lakes that were what Glendalough was named for were lovely, too, but I've seen lovelier at home (the scenery did make me think of the San Juan islands) and really, it was all about the monastery.

Three of my passions together - Celtic knotwork, Ancient history (Celtic, no less!) and sacred places. What more can be said? I love Ireland!