So, there's this film called "Roy"...

I started this blog promoting things that I liked (well, it was one website/clothing company that now no longer exists...but that's beside the point). That being said, I'd like to draw your attention to the excitement and hard work of my friend, Mr. Clarke. He just finished a short animation film called "Roy." I got to help.

I am excited, too.

So, check out his blog! Click here for to visit his page, Low Budget Comedians. And then, stay tuned for more updates on the release of his film!

Life is not so simple

I drove up to the Pasadena area yesterday. The sun shone with such warmth that I kept my window rolled down and enjoyed the wind blowing through my hair as I zoomed past green hills scattered with trees, fields, brush, and the mountains in view. Closer to LA the old neighborhoods and stretches of beautiful barren land replaced the hills. The heat also became more stifling. I pushed through, determined to enjoy a day when I was free of work and free to enjoy the beauty around me. The sky above shone so bright, so blue...



Hours later, after an enjoyable afternoon, I decided to make a quick purchase before returning home. Walking down the street, I suddenly felt aware of my singularity. Most people around me were with others - especially the females. I felt vulnerable and alone. I crossed the street with a mass of people, free to go where I wanted but also free of protection...not that I needed any - I just felt the void.



I made my purchase after some deliberation and friendly chatting with the salesman and then headed back outside, proud of my prize. This time, I stood alone in the sun while waiting for the light to change, allowing my eyes to wander. And then I saw her - a woman. Was that bare skin? Were her pants pulled down? No. It couldn't be. People didn't do that in public. And yet...was it? I tried not to look in case it was what I thought it was. Nobody around me seemed to notice her. Was she actually...? No, she couldn't be. Reality finally had it's way though, and I saw her pull up her bright green sweat pants as a puddle of piss ran down the sidewalk.



Driving home, I longed to return to the cooler temperatures of home. As traffic crawled, I reflected on the day - relatively relaxed even though I normally get antsy when I'm not "moving." My happy anticipation of returning home grew once I returned to a more familiar highway and traffic picked up. Cars came to a quick slow, though, and I thought I was in for a traffic jam caused by an accident. The "accident" turned out to be a fallen box of books and magazines that had apparently fallen (perhaps out of a moving truck), exploded, and subsequently been run over. The debris of written material scattered across the highway as words which once had meaning were reduced to discarded trash - to be avoided by oncoming vehicles. I remembered the woman.

It made my heart hurt.





What a complex day. The beauty. The brokenness. The pleasure. The discomfort.

Life is not so simple...

My heart currently wants to beat out of my chest. I keep telling it that it has to stay put. It is not pleased.

I am currently writing this post while hooked up to my nebulizer. It's for the purpose of treating my bronchitis...that I still have. (It'll be 7 weeks on Saturday, but that's another posting, I suppose.)

Here is my current thought: I don't know much about Jack Kerouack, but I think I need to get my hands onto whatever he's written. These quotes of his convince me of this:


The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!" (On the Road)



I hope it is true that a man can die and yet not only live in others but give them life, and not only life but that great consciousness of life. (from a journal entry)

You see? This man has passion. This man is tapped into truth. I need to pick up his writings.

The Shy Dancing Zebra: A Story for Kyle

Once upon a time, there were two friends who met at a church.



He was from one part of the world, and she was from another and they were both a little differrrent.



One day, decided to go on an adventure with a group of other like-minded friends.



They traveled from one place

to another.

While in that other new place, they learned a new language.

(They shared the language book...

...because everyone knows that sharing is caring.)

They went shopping at an outdoor market, called a suk, where they bought things...like pots;

they road camels;

they tried new foods, drank a lot of tea;

and they shared new music with one another. One of the friends really liked a song called "Fatima.")

They also went on a hike. One of them climbed a tree while they rested in the shade.




They did a lot of other really neat things and had many incredible adventures while in this far-away place, but that would make for a very long story to tell. Eventually, though, they had to return home...and he went away again (this time on an adventure of his own).

But they were still friends. So, one day, she wrote him a note to tell him so...

...because that's what you do when you care.

The End.

Childish

It seems to go this way:
Something comes along in life that I want. By "want" I don't just mean, "Oh, I'd like that. It'd be nice." By "want" I mean want as in my heart desires it - I long for it. Often times with such things that I want, it ends up being something that I cannot or should not have. The frustration at keeping my hands off generally results in exposing a lot of the hurts, fears, and struggles in my own heart. Generally, this expresses itself in my frustration with God.

God, you won't give me what I want...

My mature response, then, is to turn my back on Him and sulk - frustrated over not being able to have what I think would make me (at least temporarily) happy. I caught myself going through this cycle the other day. While I cannot say that my attitude or behavior has drastically improved since then, I will confess what dawned on me:

God, for all the times that I get mad at you and turn my back on you, thank you for not doing the same to me.