Film Fest 2006

I just wanted to take this opportunity to remind my ACU friends who support the art, though little it may be, that I create... to vote my video for the people's choice award at Film Fest... If you are interested in doing so, here's the link:

Vote for FilmFest 2006 People's Choice Award

Facebook

My mom has just joined facebook... I can almost guarantee she'll have more friends than me.

The Boy Who Drank the Ocean Dry (Continued)

"In a younger month, he unraveled a bit of rope that reminded him much of his grandfather's coarse beard and jumped in the sailboat to push himself away from the dock. "Spring, Sunday Morning, The 15th Year" He dated in his journal and continued writing, "It's half past eight and the clouds are beginning to gather around the sun... It's beginning to look as though someone is shining a flashlight in a dark room. I feel as though the Heavens were spotlighting me for a story." Then he closed his journal and returned his squinting eyes to the skies as drops began letting and longer thunders rumbled. A drop, and then three, and then seven, and eventually it did begin telling him a sad story. What struck him so much was the beauty in the birth of something that seemed terribly tragic, yet unusually pure and lovely. Those bright blue skies undressed themselves to reveal the nakedness of their nature and by the minute the blue bloomed bluer and day daubed dark. This wild feeling began unraveling in the breath from his lungs so violently that he nearly lost conscious during the squall of the storm. And this... this intolerable chill from a volley of rain drops that swam down his spine is what wooed him into beauty so brilliant that he lost all sense of balance and fell face forward into the Ocean. Sinking, and sinking, he felt a warm, tingling flush run throughout the front of his face and then into his chest, all until he could take no more of her beauty and resigned himself to her finish, where his body lay facing the sun and split between two sensations, one submerged and the other surfaced. Then, the Ocean stood still and all became quiet.

This was the day he fell in love.
On a Sailboat's journey during a Sunday morning of Spring in the 15th Year."

Feedback is still appreciated. (It is not over yet... there is still more to go)

The Boy Who Drank the Ocean Dry

So I've been pretty busy lately, which would account for my blogging absence... one of the reasons I've been busy is because I've been working on rewriting a short story I wrote nearly a year ago. One of my professors has been helping me edit it... anyways, read it and then tell me the good things and then the things that need improvement...

Here's a clip of the rewritten portion (this isn't the entire story):

The Boy Who Drank the Ocean Dry

      There once was a boy who drunk the ocean dry.
      It was perhaps the most foolish thing this boy could ever have done, for it never made sense. But he loved the ocean and with a passion too. A passion not too different from the way the stars are in love with the midnight. As it was with those diamonds of fire and their fancy to shine against a dark canvas of universe, so it was with this boy and the deeper blues of his Atlantic bride. He was enamored with the way she sang when those lunar tides crashed against the rocks on which his mother's home was built, and it was impossible to escape the way it greeted him in soft blues, quiet roses, and warm oranges as a glowing sun crawled over her and thawed the horizon every morning. "Mother, I love the ocean.” He told his mother. "Oh, my Son,” She said,  “What brings you to like it so much?" "Love Mother, not like...” The young boy firmly reminded his mother and then a maturing silence cast itself slowly across the room. He straightened up and time stood still. He had fallen in love with the ocean now and out of it he could not go.  His mother’s heart began to hurt for she knew that he was no longer a boy, but a young man, though at this time he had never known tears.

Awkward

Today was an awkward day... In the literal sense of the word "causing difficulty; hard to do or deal with"

Found out different sides to people I had never quite seen or experienced before, people I thought I knew.

Then to top it off, some police officers thought it was bright to shine flashlights in my face as I was driving by.
I almost hit something because of how bright their lights were, and that really got to me. With my past, it's already difficult for me to love them... and with all of what happened today, it just didn't do me any good to end my evening with their interrogative blinding as I was operating a vehicle.

Who knows what they would have said if I had actually hit something?

Oh well, I need sleep.

On the bright side, the newspaper is doing another Article on Hip Hop Prophets next week... and I'm prolly going home to see my family this weekend.

The Violence of Love

Oscar Romero, El Salvadorian Archbishop, wrote:

September 4th, 1977
"Each of us has an individual greatness. God would not be our author if we were something worthless. You and I and all of us are worth very much, because we are creatures of God, and God has prodigally given his wonderful gifts to every person. And so the church values human beings and contends for their rights, for their freedom, for their dignity. That is an authentic church endeavor. While human rights are violated, while there are arbitrary arrests, while there are tortures, the church considers itself persecuted, it feels troubled, because the church values human beings and cannot tolerate that an image of God be trampled by persons that become brutalized by trampling on others. The church wants to makr that image beautiful."

September 25th, 1977
"Let us not tire of preaching love;
     it is the force that will overcome the world.
Let us not tire of preaching love.
     Though we see that waves of violence
succeed in drowning the fire of Christian love,
     love must win out; it is the only thing that can."

Currently Listening How To Save A Life By The Fray see related

"You're beginning to wonder about the time you said you kissed the moon.
You were five and you had curls that were so thick they never fell beneath your shoulders. Your mother said you were a brunette Shirley Temple who loved to dress more like Annie than the actual little actress that everyone loved. You loved the more ragged things that most girls stuffed in their closets. Now, as I look at you, your simpleness and ordinariness have peeled a layer back off of the word beauty and I'm seeing all of what makes the sun rise in the morning."

Dude, I like words. You can do many things with them. My friend Mark Lewis today was telling me that English majors use too many words to describe something simple, and I know he was joking, but man... They give so much meaning and they're so powerful. But the power is with many words. A Word itself does not contain any meaning except if it is accompanied by other words. Pretty vs. the description above about what makes her pretty.

Alright. More to come later.