Just sit back and laugh.

So lately, I have been laughing out loud at things that I see. Even when I'm by myself. Yes, I realize that this is probably a sign of my oncoming insanity, but i sort of enjoy it.
For example, I thought I saw someone smoking a cigarette at John Brown No Tobacco University today in the middle of campus, and I just started laughing out loud as I strolled to class. I mean, I was mistaken.. but still, just the though made me chuckle. Now I realize some of you might read this observation as a silly mistake of an extremely harmful act. But man, I thought it was hilarious.
I feel like a spent all of last semester frowning. I mean, it was probably one of the hardest semesters of my life, and I never took time to smile or laugh, except on rare occasions. But now that I find myself smirking at even the smallest things, it has just made me a generally happier person.
Also, I think that my dad's sense of humor is becoming increasingly wittier as the years go by and I appreciate it so much. Really. It's made our relationship so much closer. He's becoming one of my best friends. All we need is to sit on the back porch, an ice cold beer for him, and a cup of steaming coffee for me, and a little bit of Cat Stevens, and we could be completely content.

I really want:
a sail boat.
a rocking chair that squeaks.
peace.
the ability to play the violin.
artistic ability.
and a pen pal. (any takers?)


Alright kids, make yourself laugh...

so, call me crazy. please.

it's such a nice thing to take a break from this ongoing and antagonizingly familiar routine of life. spring break most likely saved me. and i mean this quite literally.

lately, i've begun to just lose so much hope in humanity. i am constantly exhausted with these unanswered questions swirling around in my head that yearn to be answered. i feel like i'm trying so hard to learn. learn more about what it means to love out loud. and to live a life that is worthy
but it can be an entirely lonely feeling.

it's people like wendell berry, however, that give me hope.
hope that all is not lost.
hope that some people just understand.
hope that people are still madly in love with nature.
hope that people still have motivation.
hope that people still want to shake up the lives of their comfortable friends.
hope that people still have a clever sense of humor.
hope that people still care.
hope that people still love poetry.
and hope that people still yearn to be in the peace of the wild things.

this piece has been one that has been read over and over again for awhile now...

The Contrariness of the Mad Farmer

I am done with apologies. If contrariness is my
inheritance and destiny, so be it. If it is my mission
to go in at exits and come out at entrances, so be it.
I have planted by the stars in defiance of the experts,
and tilled somewhat by incantation and by singing,
and reaped, as I knew, by luck and Heaven's favor,
in spite of the best advice. If I have been caught
so often laughing at funerals, that was because
I knew the dead were already slipping away,
preparing for a comeback, and can I help it?
And if at weddings I have gritted and gnashed
my teeth, it was because I knew where the bridegroom
had sunk his manhood, and knew it would not
be resurrected by a piece of cake. "Dance" they told me
and I stood still, and while they stood
quiet in line at the gate of the Kingdom, I danced.
"Pray" they said, and I laughed, covering myself
in the earth's brightnesses, and then stole off gray
into the midst of a revel, and prayed like an orphan.
When they said "I know that my Redeemer liveth,"
I told them "He's dead." And when they told me
"God is dead," I answered "He goes fishing every day
in the Kentucky River. I see Him often."
When they asked me would I like to contribute
I said no, and when they had collected
more than they needed, I gave them as much as I had.
When they asked me to join them I wouldn't
and then went off by myself and did more
than they would have asked. "Well, then" they said
"go and organize the International Brotherhood
of Contraries," I said "Did you finish killing
everybody who was against peace?" So be it.
Going against men, I have heard at times a deep harmony
thrumming in the mixture, and when they ask me what
I say I don't know. It is not the only or the easiest
way to come to the truth. It is one way.
-Wendell Berry.


I realize that this pathetic blog is really just a redundancy of anaphoras, wendell berry, talk of nature and of my own insanity, and ranting. but for those of you that still read this.
Thanks.

post-rain lighting is the best...

Let the wind dance across your face, and just breathe in.

There is nothing more frustrating in this world than attempting to have a conversation with a close-minded person. Yes, I have my opinons. Yes, they are stong ones. But please, oh please, just know what you are talking about. That is all I ask. If we are having a conversation about something that we totally disagree on, and I see that you have your opinion because that is what you truly believe, than more power to you. But please, don't tell me I am wrong, judgemental, or stupid when you don't even know what I'm talking about. [I know that I'm going on a ridiculous rant right now, but man... it's been quite the week, so just hear me out.] Having an argument for argument's sake is completely pointless and will never accomplish anything. I want people to have their own opinions.
But please, oh please, create them on your own. After you have learned about that subject, and formed an educated opinion.

As humans, i believe we are called to be informed individuals.

Ignorance is not bliss.

We are called to feel passionate about things. We are called to be constantly learning. We are called to have opinions. We are even called to disagree with one another. And it's so nice to disagree with someone, while still maintaining that common ground of humanity. That is what we call an intelligent conversation.
Those kinds are the kinds that water my soul.

[I promise, my ranting serves a purpose]

So, after a week of these ignorant opinions, pointless conversations, frustrating arguments, bad grades, bad coffee, bad hair, and a broken earring... I was about to lose my mind.

Right as I felt it slipping away, I was saved.
A good conversation, two beautiful friends, an encouraging email, the wind blowing in my face, a creek, lots of laughter, fake sporting events, and rod stewart is all it took to get me back on my feet.

And I realized. I need to stop letting these little things get to me. It's simply a waste of time. And I hate wasting things. [mostly time and paper..]





Please fill my ears with the sweet sound of summer.

Maybe, for that one moment.

I think about the future.
Way too much.
I strive to be a person that lives in the moment.
One that takes full advantage of opportunities.
One that is constantly amazed by nature.
One that finds beauty in simplicity.
One that is baffled by the complex.
One that appreciates.
One that loves all. Always.
One that seeks.
One that is never satisfied.

This new leaf of mine is so close to turning, and I am oh so ready for it. I know it will be great.
But for now, I will be patient [no matter how hard].
And I will be a bride married to amazement. [mary oliver, read her. love her. read her again.]


And I won't look back.

[except for you.]

If you just close your eyes and listen, you will hear it too.

Get on 412
Continue on 412
Turn right on Henri De Tonti Rd.
Turn left on Kelly Ave.

Since second grade, I have been making the trip to Springdale to see my father every other weekend, and once during the week. This is a trip that I have made countless times-literally. As the years have gone, the trip has varied. My dad picking us up, all three of us scooting into his car, throwing our suitcases in the back. Zac getting his license and his lovely white jetta, we made the trip on 412 arguing over music choice and seating arrangement. Zac moved, Christian got his license, thus creating bonding time for us siblings. Long conversations about life, or short ones about music. Now, being the only kid left, I make this familiar journey alone. No siblings, just me and my ipod. During these trips, I can't help but think about my brothers, and my childhood. It is truly sad when you see your childhood slipping away. You realize how far those memories really are. You look to your right and see that no one is sitting in your passenger seat, and that you too will no longer be taking this trip. Weird.

One thing that hasn't changed about this trip is the directions. The directions have stayed ever-so-constant throughout my entire Arkansas existence.
So one night, when I was drivng home from my father's...

I turned.

Yes, that's right. After years and years of going the exact same direction to the exact same destination, I turned.

It was this little country road.
Was I scared?-Maybe
Or maybe the feeling that I was feeling deep down was excitement, danger even.
For the first time, I was somewhere unknown-sort of- and i was by myself.
It was exhilarating.
As the road winded through pastures and little country yards, I started thinking.
Yes, those old memories are good. They are safe.
They aren't sad. They are good. And now I get to make more memories, and I know that I have an exciting future ahead of me.
Change is dangerous, but it is exciting.

Change something.
Even if it means that all you need to do is turn.

Listen for the building of the strings.

I want to live a life a reckless abandon.
I want to realize the reality of redemption.
I want to live a life that is unconscious to myself.
I want to be a servent.
I want to live a deliberate life.

These are all things that i desperately yearn for. These things are also things that I don't do a very good job at. In this last semester, I would like to re-organize my priorities and try to live for Him, and not for myself.

I have spent the last week with zero power. Although I spent plent of time complaining about every moment, I honestly loved every second. I loved that my phone was out of battery, I loved that I couldn't check my email, and I loved that I was using candlelight to illuminate my room. Everything looks better in candlelight. It's incredible how connected we all are by means of electricity, and how unconnected we all are without it. Does this mean we are even truly connected anyway? I find it a bit ironic. It was a true adventure to figure out how to make coffee with my mom, the way the pioneers did. So what if it had some grounds left in it.... It was a perfect cup of coffee. Everything tastes better when you work for it. It was really great to be with my mom for those few days. She didn't care that my bangs were entirely greasy, or that I had been wearing t-shirt/sweatpants combo for the past 4 days. She cared about how I was. I love that woman.

There is nothing like listening to a song that starts off so subtle, and slowly builds, until it hits you in the face with it's beauty. Sometime it brings tears to my eyes.

Maybe it's not that big of a deal.

When I am reading poetry, I always feel like I am reading something forbidden. I always am glancing over my shoulders to make sure no one knows that I am really just reading a stolen diary. But then I remember that it is, in fact, a published collection of thoughts for the world to see.
I mean, when you think about it, poetry is simply the result of living. Everday we are constantly living an art form. Everything we do, think, and see is, in some way, poetic.

So, I guess you could say we are all poets. Some of us just choose to write it down.


Why can't I just be happy that you are happy?
Dysfunctional are my relationships of late.