focus!

I've visited this blog every now and again, posting about whatever happens to be on my mind, but in the true spirit of 2010 and ridiculous resolutions, here are some topics I'm passionate about, read about fairly often, and ought to post about soon:

Writing - especially poetry and lyrics
God's plans and purposes on earth
Backpacking Europe
Russian language and culture
Design
Architecture
Healthy eating and living
Indie-folk music
String instruments

melt.

Jenny Lewis is so subtle but cuts deep into the root of things and illuminates little places I like to hide away in. For this, I love her raspy sweet voice. Her songs with Rilo Kiley are catchy and amazing (ahem Silver Lining), but solo work suits her fully exposed brutally crisp style so well. love it!

Jenny Lewis
Melt Your Heart

Nothing is ever as good as it was
And what's good for your soul will be bad on your nerves
If you reverse it

It's bound to melt your heart
One way or another
It's bound to melt your heart
For good for bad
It's like a valentine from your mother
It's bound to melt your heart

And we've lost the people we could've loved in you
What you know you have or what you think you want
It's never perfect

It's bound to melt your heart
One way or another
It's bound to melt your heart
For good for bad
It's like a valentine from your mother
It's bound to melt your heart

Are we killing time?
Are we killing each other?

When you're kissing someone who's too much like you
It's like kissing on the mirror
When you're sleeping with someone who doesn't get you
You're going to hate yourself in the morning

It's bound to melt your heart
One way or another
It's bound to melt your heart
For good for bad
It's like a valentine from your mother
It's bound to melt your heart

birds.

http://solitaryspade.deviantart.com/art/Love-Birds-72174056



Birds.
Persistent incessant obnoxious
Chirping!
Keeps me awake.
A mating ritual at two in the morning?
Sure.
"If you young things must,
So shall we. outside your window."
A reminder of love.
Silly ignorant lovebirds.
Sure love works without logic and reality
What's 2,000 miles to a lovebird?
Chirp away.
What does tomorrow hold for you?
Family and flight.
Ah! Me too.
Flight from family.
We really aren't all that different.

Ladeda.

I'm so antsy for change!
Always!
I can't even keep my bedroom furniture in the same place for over a month, it drives me nuts.
I'm totally out of re-arranging ideas, and spending every spare moment I should be studying planning projects for summer.
AHhhhh. no school. less stress....a job?
psh. it'll be full in no time.
So back to filling every last scrap of a notecard I can scrounge up around my apartment
(at least it's clean! i clean when i'm stressed....weird, i know).
And attempting to make sense of a Philosophy-course-on-crack.
Maybe Radiohead will enlighten me.
And then I can pray off the garbage I just let into my head. *cough* Hobbes. *cough* Freud.
That's all!

the island.

My mind. An island.
unapproachable.
unexplainable.
uncivilized.
It changes with the seasons,
and changes with the moons;
the tide rushes in
invigorates the shore with salty force
carrying foreign scents & foreign desire
but what's to grasp it? sand?
new deposits lie lonely upon the shore.
I want none of your nonsense.

Go along, temporal vessel, pass by.
Let your eyes reach the shores,
Let your imagination glimmer with hopes
of treasure left by another lost soul
entertain those musings, sure,
no soul left their memory here.
the vacancy within, filled by unrecognizable joy
is too dark for you to recognize.

the mind is the greatest vessel of escape from self.

hope

hope kills.
hope reunites that spark of resilient beauty in life
breathes invigoration across my heart's fading embers
once content to glow softly
hope stirs up
what little life my spent spirit has left
consumes all I have left to give,
leaving me with a faint glimmer
receding into ash.

Memory

This is a place I've known all too well.

THE PHILOSOPHER

And what are you that, wanting you,
I should be kept awake
As many nights as there are days
With weeping for your sake?

And what are you that, missing you,
As many days as crawl
I should be listening to the wind
And looking at the wall?

I know a man that's a braver man
And twenty men as kind,
And what are you, that you should be
The one man in my mind?

Yet women's ways are witless ways,
As any sage will tell, --
And what am I, that I should love
So wisely and so well?

ESVM