sometimes, i like to create quote collages for no particular reason. also, i am in love with walt whitman. and would like to start memorizing some poetry. maybe i shall start with walt.



Every man is wise when attacked by a mad dog; fewer when pursued by a mad woman; only the wisest survive when attacked by a mad notion.
- Robertson Davies

Democracy is a device that ensures we shall be governed no better than we deserve.
- George Bernard Shaw

Competence, like truth, beauty and contact lenses, is in the eye of the beholder.
- Laurence J. Peter

After you have exhausted what there is in business, politics, conviviality, and so on - have found that none of these finally satisfy, or permanently wear - what remains? Nature remains.
-Walt Whitman

All faults may be forgiven of him who has perfect candor.
-Walt Whitman

And your very flesh shall be a great poem.
-Walt Whitman

Behold I do not give lectures or a little charity, When I give I give myself.
-Walt Whitman

Give me the splendid silent sun with all his beams full-dazzling.
-Walt Whitman

If any thing is sacred the human body is sacred.
-Walt Whitman

The art of art, the glory of expression and the sunshine of the light of letters, is simplicity.
-Walt Whitman

The poet judges not as a judge judges but as the sun falling around a helpless thing.
-Walt Whitman

Now I see the secret of the making of the best persons. It is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth.
-Walt Whitman

Above all, create silence in your interior. Let that ardent desire to see God arise from the depth of your hearts... -Pope John Paul II

If you are what you should be, you will set the whole world ablaze. - St. Catherine of Siena

The feeling remains that God is on the journey, too.
-Saint Teresa of Avila

swiss cheese.

i was just talking to leah, and since we are contemplative together, we wondered what cause the holes in swiss cheese. her guess was air. right she was. apparently there's also hole-y controversy!:

"Swiss cheese holes" are caused by gassy bacteria . In order to make cheese, you need the help of bacteria. Starter cultures containing bacteria are added to milk, where they create lactic acid, essential for producing cheese. Various types of bacteria can be used to make cheese, and some cheeses require several different bacteria to give them a particular flavor.

Propionibacter shermani is one of the three types of bacteria used to make Swiss cheese, and it's responsible for the cheese's distinctive holes. Once P. shermani is added to the cheese mixture and warmed, bubbles of carbon dioxide form. These bubbles become holes in the final product. Cheesemakers can control the size of the holes by changing the acidity, temperature, and curing time of the mixture. Incidentally, those holes are technically called "eyes," and the proper Swiss name for the cheese is Emmentaler (also spelled Emmental or Emmenthaler).

Swiss cheese has been in the news recently because the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) created new guidelines that regulate the hole size of domestically produced Swiss cheese. The USDA reduced the standard size of the holes by half because new cheese-slicing machinery got caught on larger holes. The Swiss weren't pleased by the revised guidelines and insist that Emmentaler must have large holes. Considering how iconic those eyes are, we think they have a good point.



...also, what is the point at which couples switch into "we"? is it a gradual change? or is it after marriage? after engagement? what factors does it depend on? the couple themselves and how strong the relationship is? the personality of those involved in the couple? the context of the sentence? i ask these questions because abby left me a message the other day that said she was taking "the daughters of our friends to the orthodontist" ... granted, she's married, so the use of "our" is valid, if not anticipated. but, i do wonder. personally, i think i like the "our" .. but the "we" can get aggravating. "we think that.." ... no, you think that, and you discussed them, you agree on your thoughts (kirsten really came up with this theory, but i concur.. so maybe kirsten and i--we--think? ;) ... but, the "our" does have a nice ring to it.

p.s. can the we be used in other cases? such as the top of this paragraph, when i used "we" for "we wondered" ..? hm. how close does one have to be to a person to be a we?

what do we think?

the word "steward" is so often thrown around.
what does it mean to be a steward for God?
it kind of bothers me when people look things up in the dictionary and proceed to write about the definition they have found literally..
but, i'm going to commit my own annoyance.
my favorites to conceptualize in terms of Heavenly stewardship are 2, 4, and 8.
a household. a vessel .. could we be tending to domestic concerns on a vessel?
especially 8 ...
what if we thought of ourselves as petty officers in charge of higher officers' quarters and mess?
or as serving as stewards instead of acting?
i think i'm ready for a healthy change in perspective.
i wish that could be universally true.


stew⋅ard
–noun
1. a person who manages another's property or financial affairs; one who administers anything as the agent of another or others.
2. a person who has charge of the household of another, buying or obtaining food, directing the servants, etc.
3. an employee who has charge of the table, wine, servants, etc., in a club, restaurant, or the like.
4. a person who attends to the domestic concerns of persons on board a vessel, as in overseeing maids and waiters.
5. an employee on a ship, train, or bus who waits on and is responsible for the comfort of passengers, takes orders for or distributes food, etc.
6. a flight attendant.
7. a person appointed by an organization or group to supervise the affairs of that group at certain functions.
8. U.S. Navy. a petty officer in charge of officer's quarters and mess.
–verb (used with object)
9. to act as steward of; manage.
–verb (used without object)
10. to act or serve as steward.

God's forgiveness is only natural in the supernatural domain.
Compared with the miracle of the forgiveness of sin, the experience of sanctification is slight.
When once you realize all that it cost God to forgive you, you will be held as in a vice, constrained by the love of God.

the idea of "constrained by the love of God" is oddly comforting. maybe not oddly, just .. unexpected. it feels more like a swaddle than a straight jacket. hemmed in by love.

grobanness.

there are several favorite playlist selections i have while doing work. they must each involve the perfect combination of giving me enough focus so my mind doesn't wander, but not too much focus on the music itself that it becomes a distractor instead of an attenuator. my collection of josh groban music typically falls perfectly into that category (partially because many of his lyrics are in italian, so i couldn't sing along if i tried..).

however, maybe this focusable theory is not entirely true, because it took much might to not want to write this blog post while writing my paper the other night. i successfully did not, though. but i'm writing it now, which may be equally as bad, as there are plenty of things i probably should be doing instead. *shrugs*

i think i just want to list lyrics that struck me, without saying anything about them. somehow writing about them feels like it would cheapen them?


Through the darkness
I can see your light
And you will always shine
And I can feel your heart in mine
Your face I've memorized


And I believe in you
Although you never asked me to
I will remember you
And what life put you through


Are you gently sleeping
Here inside my dream
And isn't faith believing
All power can't be seen
As my heart holds you
Just one beat away


You can hold me only
If you too will fall
Away from all these
Useless fears and chains


Let me fall
Let me climb
There's a moment when fear
And dreams must collide


Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds and violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue
Colours changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artists' loving hand


I feel myself surrender
Each time I see your face.
I am staggered by your beauty,
Your unassuming grace.
And I feel my heart is turning,
Falling into place.


Like the sound of silence calling,
I hear your voice and suddenly
I'm falling, lost in a dream
Like the echoes of our souls are meeting


Tell me the words I never said
Show me the tears you never shed
Give me the touch
That one you promised to be mine
Or has it vanished for all time


Remember when it rained.
Felt the ground and looked up high
And called your name.
Remember when it rained.
In the darkness I remain.
Tears of hope run down my skin.
Tears for you that will not dry.
They magnify the one within
And let the outside slowly die.


I can't understand it
The search for an answer is met with a darker day
And we've been handed these moments forever
But I'm reassured there's another way.


Broken, once connected,
We were so strong and so blessed in a simple way.
So don't let me go it alone
Turn your head up to the sky
Nothing down below but me
Face the truth to realize
All that we could be.
Hold onto what brought you here.


Don't give up
It's just the weight of the world
When your heart's heavy
I, I will lift it for you

Don't give up
Because you want to be heard
If silence keeps you
I, I will break it for you

Everybody wants to be understood
Well I can hear you


Where is that simple day
Before colors broke into shades
And how did I ever fade
Into this life



She stares through my shadow
She sees something more
Believes there's a light in me
She is sure

This world keeps on spinning
Only she stills my heart
She's my inspiration
She's my northern star
I don't count my possession
All I call mine
I will give her completely
To the end of all time

In her eyes I see the sky and all I'll ever need
In her eyes time passes by and she is with me



We're trying far too hard
The tattered thought balloons above our heads
Sinking in the weight of all we need to say
Why's and what if's have since long played out
Left us short on happy endings

And it's no one's fault
There's no black and white
Only you and me


I heard its lonely sound
It wasn't warring, it was weeping

"My friends," he said, "We've reached our goal
The threat is under firm control
As long as peace and order reign
I'll be damned if I can see a reason to explain
Why the fear and the fire and the guns remain."



The world has turned the day to dark
I leave this night with heavy heart
When I return to dry your eyes
I will sing this lullaby

And all love through darkness
Don't you ever stop believing
With love forlorn
With love you'll find your way
My love



and, the last one does receive a line of commentary. because it seems that it's all we never think could happen, and yet all we hope for. it's the fairytale that no matter how old we get, we still believe is true.

A waltz when she walks in the room
She pulls back the hair from her face
She turns to the window to sway in the moonlight
Even her shadow has grace

A waltz for the girl out of reach
She lifts her hands up to the sky
She moves with the music
The song is her lover
The melody's making her cry
So she dances
In and out of the crowd like a glance
This romance is
From afar calling me silently

A waltz for the chance I should take
But how will I know where to start?
She's spinning between constellations and dreams
Her rhythm is my beating heart

So she dances
In and out of the crowd like a glance
This romance is
From afar calling me silently

I can't keep on watching forever
I give up this view just to tell her

When I close my eyes I can see
The spotlights are bright on you and me
We've got the floor
And you're in my arms
How could I ask for more?

potpourri?

the word potpourri has had special meaning to me for a while. i know, that sounds strange. but, it began in sixth grade. for as long as i can remember, i'd (i've?) wanted to be a famous actress (cue laughter)... i went to a couple acting camps and such when i was little, but as a sixth grader, i was fortunate enough to be on an academic 'team' (affectionately titled the constellations, in case you were wondering) that took part in theatrical training a couple times a week. we learned acting technique, read plays, and even each wrote a play of our own. at the end of the school year, several plays were chosen to be presented at a one-night-only showing titled "a potpourri of plays."

i enjoyed the title not only for the alliteration, but also because that was when i learned to spell the word "potpourri" (i still have to say pot-pour-ri in my mind, it's true). additionally, mine was one of the plays chosen. and(!), not only was it chosen, but when it was chosen the play-choosing-committee told me that they had had their eyes on my play from its beginning stages.

it was titled "the magic stone," and i got to direct my six actors through many-a-rehearsal. (incidentally, that's also when i learned how terribly bad i was at being bossy--we even had to have a heart-to-heart meeting about my cast wanting criticism [who'd ever heard of such a thing?!] and me being afraid to tell them what i wanted them to do differently). anyway, sad as i was to not be able to act in a play myself, it was quite an honor to have my show selected. the storyline was something like this (abridged): two best friends, one has a lucky charm magic stone, the other one steals it, the one who it belongs to gets hit by a car and is in critical condition, the stone-stealer feels horrible (believing that it is because she stole the stone that her friend was hurt so badly), then the stone-stealer loses the stone and has to tell her friend. but, before she can tell her friend, she gets worse, and the stealing friend cries over her bed, confesses everything to her, and the hurt friend thus wakes up. they realize that it was not the stone's that brought them good fortune after all, but their love and affection being misinterpreted.

yeah, other students wrote about boyfriend drama and proms and such (well, except one girl, who wrote an exciting tale called "the grape escape," which involved several fruit items being emancipated from the fridge-life)... i wrote about depth of relationships and hospitals. go figure, guess not much changes ;)

anyway.

i have a friend who has a journal titled "between poetry and prose" ... needless to say, i adore the idea. i wish i could even be poetic or prosey enough to come up with such a thing. but, i'm going to cheaply take after it, saying that my blog shall be a mix of poetry, prose, and potpourri (yes, a mix of potpourri!).

starting a blog right now seems rather overwhelming, to be honest. and committing to speaking nicely or lengthily isn't really something i can imagine doing right now (okay, maybe not the length part). ...but, a potpourric collection of thoughts, ideas, lyrics, quotes, and moments seems like something i could handle. perhaps some will even have commentary.

so, thus begins my collection.

oh .. a word on the actual title: audible silence. i can't remember if that's something i heard somewhere or just pondered on my nearly-daily walk between offices, but it feels rather appropriate; this will be how my silence find its voice.