Sunday, February 22, 2009

quote of the Day 20

"What should we name him?" -- Raeo
"Doug." -- Anna
"Doug the suicidal rolly polly!" -- Caity
"I'd write a children's book called that." -- Anna

"Very expressive! No Botox in that face!" -- Julie Eau

"Kona, why're you trying to come back in?  It was your idea to go out dog, not mine.  Ah, it's silly, trying to have an intelligent conversation with the dog." --mum.  (she says that, and yet she continues to talk to the animals... if you wonder where i got it, now you know :)

"You could rub this on your face afterword if you like."
"Well, when you put it like that... how could I possibly refuse?!?!" -- Anna
we were talking about orange peels. :P

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

my little poems

the sky is a painting
with swatches of thick gray cloud
and the universe for its canvas
***
the air is a blanket
a warm caress
a kiss of fabric
***
Every pore spills poetry
Radiating with the fervence of life
And the will to live
***
Beauty lies in
the delicate curvature of the neck
where shadows pool
into a hollow basin.
***
thoughts are as fleeting as
a delicate aroma
carried by the wind
***
When the morning sun
wakes, it peeks through hidden forest glades
and the birds sing life.
***
Water trickles down
the sheer, long gray mountain face
gradually: drip drip
***
Blossoms turn and smile
with the greatest reverie
when my love walks by
***
the egret taks wing
from the gray and marshy plain
into winter’s sky
***
Sun doth kiss the flowers
Wind and shore doth kiss the sea
Why kiss you not me?
***
Souls are light and hard to catch
they have wings of silk
in the time of the butterflies

Saturday, February 7, 2009

i will sing

People have different reactions to my singing, reactions which often speak to their character and how we'll relate to one another. The first reaction is either amusement, fascination, or irritation (these are of course gross simplifications, because truly everyone's reaction, like their personality, is different).

The amused ones put up with me for a while, like a new exhibit in a freak show. The fascinated usually become my closest friends. Some of them never get sick of it -- they enjoy singing, sharing in the excitement of music, even joining me!  Others of the "initially fascinated" category become irritated at times due to mood or circumstance, and ask me to stop.  I can respect that.  It's the constantly irritated, forever annoyed people who I can't stand.  Not because they don't care for my singing -- I can respect someone who wants quiet.  It's the malevolent attitude I get which shocks me.  It's someone reacting with a cruelty and savagery totally beyond what the situation called for.  It's someone fixating on something so trivial and directing their displaced anger at it... this is what both unnerves me and disgusts me.

I've sung since I was little... well, for as long as I can remember.  And for just as long I've been ridiculed for it.  Not by everyone -- indeed, the negative comments have lessened severely in high school, but it's amazing how isolated daggers of cruelty can wound.  Yet I never gave up singing.   Perhaps singing is part of my own subconscious battle for individuality.  Perhaps, even when I was young music was too ingrained in my spirit for me to ever leave it behind.