Study Break

I needed a break from reading, and I'm trying to do better at blogging consistently on this blog. I have a couple other blogs that I've been working on for classes, and that's kept me busy pretty constantly. This blog sometimes becomes the neglected child in a big family of other projects, though, and that's my biggest daily regret. The problem is that though beautiful thoughts nonetheless come from beautiful minds, it's hard to find anything in a mind cluttered by so much else.

I crave weekends, because they are really the only time when I can really just forget about everything and live in the real sense--go on adventures, write, read for fun, compose music. I am still trying to figure out the whole balancing life with school thing, because school's winning even though life is a lot more fun sometimes. The world is so full of beautiful things and beautiful ideas and beautiful people: I just wish I had more time to really come to know it all.

On a side note, I think I am going to start carrying my camera with me wherever I go, because I want to capture this moment in my life. I don't know why, but I feel like it's a really important one, and right now, I don't have the words to capture all the beauty that I experience--mostly all the people that I see--on a daily basis. I was riding my bike home the other day when a small bird shot out of a bush as I passed. I was going fast enough that as it flew away from me, it appeared to just hover before my face for ten seconds or so before finally veering off, and I was left with the impression that I had faded from existence for a moment and become the wind on its tail feathers. The week before, a butterfly brushed against my skin, and I remembered touching butterfly wings as a child, blowing the fairy dust from my fingers.

Grace alights upon us each day, I think. Our task is just to be there and remember.

A Poem of Love...

Gertrude

I love the way you pick your nose,

The chipped nail polish on your toes,

Your crooked grin, your frizzy hair,

Your absent look, devoid of care.

I love your cakey, make-upped face,

Your manly gait, devoid of grace,

Your rumpled blouse, your sauce-stained skirt,

Your cheeks begrimed with soot and dirt.

Your hoggish snort and loud guffaw

Reduce me to dumbfounded awe,

And when I see your monstrous feet,

My flutt’ring heart nigh skips a beat.

In beauty naught surpasses now

Your bristle-brushy unibrow.

And I’ll not fear the touch of death,

When thinking of your rancid breath.

Your stubbled chin oft to behold

Is better boon than purest gold,

And if true love be hard to find

Then glad I am that you are mine.