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onward

*sigh. what a productive day of thought and contemplation. Good news, I didn't fall under. Let's keep it moving. It's all about forward motion.

Cheatham's

Working with my brothers makes me see that we are the 4%. You gotta ask me what that is.

Coast to Coast in a Coffee Cup

I was at Starbucks this morning. Yeah I rolled out of bed and Anthony drove us. Such good stuff. We're standing in line, fresh from a conversation about how perfect Pike is (that's the kind of coffee they serve at Starbucks. Its their House blend. Ever go to a B&N Starbucks and get the house blend? Well it's not the same as hitting up a real Starbucks... Well we were discussing things like this) when I look up at the board and they're advertising a Gold Coast blend also. So I'm trying to decide if I want to take the risk. Go with the bold and trusty taste of the Pike or start my morning off with some adventure and shoot for the Gold Coast. It's such a hard decision. We're inching up in line, its 9am and I'm panicking. Which do I want? I love to travel. Where is the Gold Coast anyway? Is it Africa, gotta be. I love Seattle though. That's where the Pike Place originates from. Then I'm trying to decide which place I like more. Which coast will offer me the best blend for my morning fix? It's causing beads of sweat to make themselves visible on my forehead. Now I really look like I just rolled out of bed.
Then it hits me. Where else can the many differences between the Gold Coast (wherever it is) and the fisherman's wharf of Pike Place be narrowed down to coffee flavors? How many cultural and geographical differences are bound up on those two places? Pike and the Gold Coast. I feel like I went on an international journey this morning.
I ended up with Pike. No sense ruining a good morning over a shitty brew. Maybe I'll gather my guts and try it tonight...

argh-matey

oh my gosh. my fingers are like jelly. it's been such a long time since i've let myself write. but it's great to be back getting my sea legs again. damn land lovers ruining my romance with the big blue yonder... the frosted white page; where the ink is smeared by my knuckles and the hours it takes to slave over the slow dripping words. to write. to be written. words are water beading and dripping from my cupped hands. I drink them and wash my face with them. i ride them on my ship muse. Her name is Imagination and we've been apart for far too long. far far too long.

Joy Ride

I just took a late night bike ride through berrien. I passed all my old residences. I trapsed through center campus. I looked at all the old buildings for the last time. This place has been a huge chunk of my life, I'm so excited to make memories that blow AU out of the water. Yay for life. Yay for late night rides on my speed demon bike. If only school had gone by so fast... haha

i wish i was more than i am

Green Cathedral

You know my home pastor has 3 churches to minister in? I think the original idea of having a pastor whose entire job is to maintain and lead a church was put in place to stimulate community and family growth. Every family needs a leader. Every organization needs a president; someone to give the final verdict. Someone to unite when times are tough and to give encouragement.
Less pastors on the scene only reflects the dedication of the church body. Where are we? Why aren't we gathering? Whenever I walk into a church I see kids, some teenagers and old people. Where are the twenty-somethings? Where are the late teens? Where are the early thirty-something members?
To me all I see is one solid and saddening truth. The churches are dying.
I love religion. I used to love church... Today is the Sabbath and instead of going to church I rode my bike to the woods and soaked my feet in a stream. God was there, in the breeze till the mosquitoes started biting and chased me away. But what is it?
What are we running from?

balloons of thought

To me via Txt from Anthony:
Remember this is a growing living thing. For it to mature it has to stumble and even fail. I'm saying this because I know you want this experience to be perfect. You will want people to see the red balloon and get super excited! I'm really happy that your so focused but I just don't want you to be discouraged. This experience will be amazing but it may not go how we expect. But it will only make us learn. We will know what to do next time. This is still huge though. Our opportunity is huge and your doing a lot to make it happen. Just remember however this turns out it will only make the future better

To Anthony via Txt from me:
Thanks Anthony. I keep telling myself that but its good to hear it. There are all sorts of things I'm trying to battle subconsciously and i guess that faith is the only thing that can balance the doubt and worry with the passion and vision that I have. And that faith goes farther than succeeding, it stretches into failure as well. God is in it all. So thanks. I'm confident in Him.

bobbles

love is red
are you the one with the red balloon?

if love was a color, what would it be?
I think love is red

reaching

Let your guard down. Your shoulders need to relax. There is nothing else besides God. So if you continue to search here, or go back and search out there, you will not end up with a different verdict. Your heart knows it. Your body aches to know it. Jesus is the only answer that makes the equation of life logical.

The birth of a Muse

There are special milestones in the life of an artist that mark, shape, and help to define our careers. The truth is, an artist lives in the metaphysical realm of thought. And in this realm passions reign supreme. Most of the time we have more passion than creativity or means by which to make all that we feel become tangible. The huge task in the life of an artist is to somehow make the whirlwind of emotion inside of us become physical, touchable, and translatable to others.
The other part of an artists journey is simply discovering what it is we are trying to say. The best thing to do is to throw it out there, splash it on a canvas, record it on a track, or scribble some words onto a page, and hope that by some magical means it comes back to you complete and accepted by the world.
Today I feel that. I feel the metaphysical part of my being becoming a bit more, well, real. Like a hovering something just now after 24 years getting it's toes to touch the ground.
What brought this on? What makes today the day that my muse becomes part human?
Well, it's the day my creations came alive!
Yeah, it's that simple. Thank you Melanie. Thank you Anthony. Thank you God.