a very human feeling.

i pulled the hood over my head, sitting cross-legged on my bed, night having long settled in.

i'd been feeling this stuffy-feeling in my chest most of the day, but at the moment it felt like a lead-weight around my heart.

and i realized with surprise..

it was sadness.

not a beautiful or tragic sadness

just a human one

for the people hurting in my life

for relationships not the way God intended them

for hearts bruised

and hearts lost

my own heart yearns so much for them to be healed and found.

"Your hear, O Lord, the desire of the afflicted; you encourage them, and you listen to their cry." -Psalm 10:17

i cannot see the end results,

sort it all out,

my fingers splay-out in front of me, blind in the dark

my Heavenly Father's right there if i wasn't too proud to take His hand.

i'm not,

one sad, tired, and weak hand isn't much to offer

but He takes it.

christmas & mr. cooper.

i was up at 6 this morning.

generally the thing which makes that alright is getting to see the sunrise

today there was only faint pink in a slit in the clouds.

the clouds did not leave today.

my thoughts are heavy, but comfortable:

...on getting a christmas tree.
[photo is a clock without hands]

....on Sufjan's Christmas cd on repeat, repeat, repeat

[listen to Holy, Holy, etc.,O Come O Come Emmanuel,Sister Winter]

.....on Dominic Cooper being in my dream last night

[think of a german-expressionistic wizard-of-oz-like world with a overall dangerous gladiator theme. yeah, sometimes i wish my dreams would visually record so i could go back and watch them.]

...on how i need to be studying for my silent film class right now.

amazing how suddenly important it is to share with the world my pointless thoughts

when there's studying to be done.

hmmpph.

the name hercules feltwright.

 

I laid a quarter on the countertop, and slid both it and the book towards the librarian.

they (the librarian squadron) don't really care what you buy off the discarded/donated shelves -the books are all the same to them, and perhaps to most people. 

but for me it's a treasure trove constantly changing it's hoard, a good searching can produce any manner of surprises. and a quarter can buy me a novel. (like The Count of Monte Cristo).

the hero's name caught by eye for this find:

Hercules Feltwright.

now THAT'S a book worth reading! it's by Natalie Babbitt (most famous for Tuckeverlasting), called Goody Hall. the synopsis on the flap read thus:

"The local blacksmith can sense that something is going to happen soon. But Hercules Feltwright, sometime actor and would-be tutor to Willet Goody, foresees nothing but a pleasant interlude as he strolls up the road to Goody Hall. The house is magnificent -a frosted sugar cake- but its inhabitants are strangely troubled.

What follows is a kind of Gothic mystery story; a puzzling adventure marked by a gypsy seance, the discovery of a fortune of jewels, and a tremulous descent into the tomb of Willet's father. And the people Hercules Feltwright meets while stumbling over clues are as bizarre as the faily history he unravels.
 When legend and disguises are penetrated at last, the puzzle's solution is wholly unexpected and, more than that, altogether satisfying."

what care i that it's suppose to be read by 7-12 year olds!

however, i DO have to make it through finals this week before i enjoy such a luxury as reading a book for fun. or other luxuries like having a life, being stress-free or sleeping!    

the swell season, a swell book.

picture one: my ticket to The Swell Season, (gotta love sweet friends who spring a surprise "i'm-taking-you-to-a-concert" on you). Ever seen the movie Once? Well, Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová from the movie continued on afterwards and pulled Glen's group The Frames into a new hybrid called The Swell Season. 

picture two: the beautiful theater, the acoustics filled up every space, the music was so alive it touched you.

picture three: a rather horrible picture of Glenny-boy. (as i jokingly called him.) he's Irish, and possibly the best storyteller i've ever listened to. these songs were meant to be performed live, to be amazed as you watch the violin having the most amazing-notes pulled from it, Glen's hand whipping so fast over the guitar strings that the audience gets to their feet applauding, Marketa's voice filling the quiet auditorium with such purity you want to grab the hand of the person next to you make sure it's all real. they involved the audience in quirky ways too, letting us whistle or sing a few notes in a round to accompany them. i'll never forget that night. 

picture four: the belt i wore. haha, just had to include a picture of it, as it's my prized possession of the moment. i got it technically for free: after thanksgiving sale at second-hand shop, stuff-a-bag-for-two-dollars sale. 

On my mind lately: fairytales

i remember as a child pouring over the picture-book section of the library, my mum brought us often, i had a few (okay, quite a few) favourites. so perhaps i'll share some with you.

i'm curious, did any of you love picture (fairytale) books when you were a youngster?

Beauty the Beast by Marianna Mayer, illustrated by Mercer Mayer   

photo-i-love tuesday, 10th edition.

(for those of you who may be new (to my humble abode/place/space/blog) i like to use Tuesdays to share one photo that i love. early on i christened it "Photo-I-Love Tuesdays" not even sure if i'd stick with it.... but i have, randomly dispersed though they be!)

so here's is the tenth edition to the collection:

Because....

it reminds me of Neverland
polaroid-ish light is the best
&
i want to climb that terrain, just look at those inviting/enticing hills/islands!

headband boy wasn't wearing a headband today.

...he is one of the interesting characters from my silent film class.

some others:

i sit next to bella swan

theodosius (really his name), the film-boy-prodigy (he knows everything)

and snow white (white-skin, red-lipsticked lips, clothes from the 20s)

today theo still knew all the answers

bella still sat by me

BUT

snow white came in in a hoodie. no red lips. i had to double-take

(she sometimes stares at me out of the corner of her eye, like she knows my alias-name for her, and doesn’t approve of it)

AND

headband boy didn't wear a headband.

however, he inspired this post.

seeing through you.

i pulled the wooden box off the top shelf, a fine layer of dust coming off on my fingers, my thumbs smoothing over the awkwardly stained lid which i love. trinkets with so many meanings, some kept for beauty, most kept for sentiment, all crammed safely within and so seldom taken out and touched.

i needed some sort of bead for a bracelet i was fancing making

but quickly got distracted, and the next thing i knew i was holding things up to the light, looking at their colours, at their shapes.

Thanksgiving is coming up...

i have so much to be thankful for in this world.

But for now we are young

Let us lay in the sun

And count every beautiful thing we can see

Love to be

In the arms of all I'm keeping here with me, me

What a curious life we have found here tonight

There is music that sounds from the street

There are lights in the clouds

Hear the voice as it's rolling and ringing through me

Soft and sweet

How the notes all bend and reach above the trees, trees

penny for those thoughts.

these pictures are heavy,

descriptive,

beautiful,

each one a multitude of thoughts...(see more via allen frame archives, i found said-place via here)

though it was a grey november day
it was anything but grey
it was:

family

hugs from people i haven't seen in a while

boterkoek

glass of wine from Trader Joes

a warm sweatshirt

singing lungs-full-capacity around a piano
bollywood dance scene (at end of slumdog)

a recipe scribbled into a notebook
thumbnail moon
remembering: lake erie + this

& looking forward to the week ahead...