Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. W.B Yeats White and storm cloud ash, mingle with the forbidding thunderheads, above. A remnant […]Warsaw’s Ash — The Art of Life
Images: Pins andhttps://www.pexels.com/ Tiny, bony hands, groping for my golden hair. A mother, in flowers from head to toe, swaddling a toddler in a sling; with the likeness of a sickly mare. Wiggling free the heap of bones comes to me, on wobbly feet and a rounded, bloated, stomach. I scoop her up in my […]Ina son ku: I love you — The Art of Life
An Advanced copy of the original: The Art of Joy! “Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.” ― Thich Nhat Hanh Life is never perfect, it comes with a few struggles and joys. Thought, sometimes it seems that life is throwing a […]-The Art of Joy- — The Art of Life
Oh curse these hands! / They didn’t heal you!
I had hoped we’de be happy; / But that dream’s too far gone
Lying in a pool of blood; / This gun in my hand. / I killed you with it
Can I take back what I see? / You broke my heart and now you’re gone…
I don’t know why I did it/ You shouldn’t have pushed! / But I was wrong to seek you out
I close the door – leaving the dark to engulf you in. / oh they find me. / Little demons ripping at my heart.
You stay where you are / Don’t come alive. Don’t seek me / I’ll only tear you…apart
I still love you, but I’ve seen what I have become / I’ll change; so not to hurt / But it’s too late for us / Pack up your blood, and travel where you’ll be loved.
I won’t miss…you
It’s a lie
I often find myself writing things like this; I haven’t yet figured out why these works are called! Sometimes I have a vague idea of what I’m writing; but more often the words just flow from me and I don’t really know what I am writing. Afterward, when the flood is gone, I’ll look back over what I wrote, edit it, and then a story behind the words comes to my mind. I think that most of them are from God, as I feel I could ever write these on my own whim!
THE STORY BEHID THE WORK: The ‘writter’ is a woman, standing in a cement room with barred one window that lets blue light seep a little bit through. There is a metal door behind the woman who stands in full black leather…a pistol in her hand. At her feet is someone – a man- laying in his face, dark chrism pooling in a circle around him.
The woman comes from this story I read in Prepeairing to be A Healp Meet by Debi Pearl (link at end of post) and there was a woman who had torn her husband up and down with her words and attitudes until he decided to leave her. Long story short, he ended up finding another to love, who would treat him better.
So in my writing, the killer is a woman, who, represents a wife who has ‘killed’ her man by the words she used.
“Oh curse these hands!” She was supposed to be his helper, to comfort and, we’ll, help him and build him up. But she never used this great gift for him.
“Little demons riling at my heart.” Was originally going to be the police seeking her out; but then I decided it to be memories of what she’s done and the guilt.
“You stay where you are / don’t come alive….” She does not want her man to come back to her; she knows that though she has changed, she wants him to go some where else and be loved. By someone else who will not make the same mistakes that she did and ruin him again.
“I still love you…” Though she loves him desperately, it is the same story as above. She promises to change, but just cannot take the risk of him coming back to her again.
“Pack up your blood….” He has another that will love him; and the woman encourages him to do so. Though she will be angry at him, she just does not want to hurt the man again; let another do what she never did.
I was leaning up against shelves of folded tank tops in Walmart, pushing the shopping cart slightly back and forth with my toe; trying not to look too crazy with TEN loafs of bread, FOUR jugs of milk, SIX dozen eggs, FOUR cases of water (the pipes are full of rust from previous earthquakes.) and a thousand other items that stacked well above the cart while I waited for my Mom to come…. with the second cart. (Struggles of a large family 🙈) An old, bending man came down the isle I was in; pushing his heavy wife in her wheelchair – and a full shopping cart in the other hand! He was rushing around grabbing all the things his wife demanded for him to grab or for her to look at. I was thinking about how sweet this man was, specially as he seemed to be in more pain than his wife in the shopping cart! but I was shocked, his wife was yelling at him and constantly berating him, telling him that he never did anything right and how (litteraly) stupid and irritating he was! She was acting like SHE was better than him and he was stupid. (Often the view of men these days) He husband was being so sweet and not uttering a sing word the interest time, but just going back to the same shelve five times or more until the woman dedcided exactly what color she wanted. I really wanted to just go up to her and say, “If you spent less time trying to fix your man, and just enjoy him for who he truly is; you’ll both be so happy!” Regretfully, I let fear overcome me and I wanted them both leave. I waited for another ten minutes before mom came, in guilt at having missed such an obvious moment form God; then asked him to forgive me and somehow let that woman know the truth!!
Serksuly, nothing more needs to be said; If you STOP trying to FIX you man, and just ENJOY him for who he IS; then you’ll both me SO much more happy! Please, notice how sweet your man TRULY is ladies! It’s always irking me the way society treats men these days; they really are truly trying! Let’s not murder them with our actions and words, and use these hands that were placed in their’s that white day. 🙂
And now some of my photography of Dad (sense I’m not married lol) to express this post….
Preparing to be a Help Meet: http://nogreaterjoy.org/blogs/preparingtobeahelpmeet/book/
No Greater Joy: https://nogreaterjoy.org/
New Orleans Preaching Trip: https://youtu.be/HXlMY3cXJK0
Speak Life: https://youtu.be/ZeBv9r92VQ0
Thank you for taking the time to read ya’ll!
~My Life as a Photographer
My world is black and white
Like an only fashioned reel, my world does spin
All else’s colors fade from view
The only ones remaining in my world is crimson
Where are you light? Why are you only white?
Shall I lay down and be dissolved?
Or does my hope set somewhere else?
Speak to me, grains in the film
Where should my heart lie tonight?
I’m sorry, black and white photography remind me of aloneness and fear…
With graceful fingers he perfectly sculpted the nose to do everything that would keep our lungs beating, pumping the oxygen he also created through the blood and to our heart. With his p mouth he pushed his very own breath into the start of humanity.
Watching, with of so much love He knew they wouldn’t ever grasp, God looked apon the very start of the human race; look forward to spending eternities with his most prized possessions.
Look, if this dude literally created us from a rib and dust, with His own fingers, then can’t he plan our destinies?
We are always so worried about what our futer will hold, and how to get there and accomplish our life’s calling. Why can’t we put our very lives into the palm that held our heart on Day One?
We get upset when things in our life don’t go the way that we want; when we cannot understand what’s happening, or see things in the world that bother us and make us question our creator. While you should totally have questions; just think of this- if God was wise enough the create every vein to do its biddding, the sun to be the perfect distance away from the earth so that life will perfectly grown; the eyes are more complicated than a while octopuse— He created this very body that you are living; can’t He, for Pete’s sake, know what He’s doing with His world, and YOU?
Find more answers in the captions below some of my photography that expresses God’s creation and perfection.
“Will not the Judge of all the earth do right?”
“Do you think anyone is going to be able to drive a wedge between us and Christ’s love for us? There is no way! Not trouble, not hard times, not hatred, not hunger, not homelessness, not bullying threats, not backstabbing, not even the worst sins listed in Scripture:
They kill us in cold blood because they hate you. We’re sitting ducks; they pick us off one by one.
None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us.”
“So, what do you think? With God on our side like this, how can we lose?”
“Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,” says the LORD, who has compassion on you.”
Pictures can canpture a thousand words, as the saying goes. Words can transporting us to different times and worlds; bringing nations together, or tearing them apart. Words are powerful; but a picture can sometimes speak more than all the words in the world can.
Pictures capture an art; the art of the person in front of the lense, their feelings. It can capture the feel of mystic lakes and mountains. Tell a story through eyes. Pictures speak where words cannot.
Just like photos, mountains are a thing to be seen and marveled at. They “ask us to ponder our inner being.” As Jane Kirkpatrick said in her book “Everything she didn’t say.” Mountains also draw us to find their creator—God. Through mountains, people, sense the dawn of time, have found consoles in them. That is why I wish to share a glimpse of the mountains I breath under with you…
“How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, “Your God reigns!” -Isaiah 52:7