It wasn't like the pale slate sky of winter, or the very dark clouds of summer storms. Yet it wasn't quite like snow clouds either. I can't put my finger on exactly what the sky was doing that day, but it was inspiring many thoughts. It was the perfect weather for a scene in my story, but I had no camera to capture it, and, as you can tell, I can't very well describe it. Actually, now that I think about it...the sky had a bit of a cream color to it as well. Strange. I just know it was one of those moments where the wind picks up and I feel like something is up in the world and it's not letting me in on its secret. Kind of like the end of Little Women.
So much more to say. I have to get up pretty early tomorrow and it's stifling my muse!
Monday, November 22, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Finding Neverland
As a test to see if the DVD player was broken, Mom put Finding Neverland in and ended up getting really into it. I was still sitting at the computer, but listening to it and it occurred to me that my story is not so dissimilar. My two main characters have a very special relationship because they share a common faith, among other things, and a belief in heaven. They're not lovers, just very good friends, similar to Mrs. Davies and Mr. Barrie. I just thought it was interesting to see so many connections between myself and my writing and this movie. =)
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
A Great Thinker
2:12pm
As I've mentioned before, C.S. Lewis' theories have greatly helped my research for this story, more so the heavenly than the earthly. At first he made my ideas seem so ordinary and not even close to what I was really trying to attain. But then I realized that it is not possible to accurately depict the heavenly things. Because no eye has seen and no ear has heard, and no mind can conceive, it's only natural that my imaginings are according to my own understanding. As a dog can't comprehend things as a human can, so a human can't comprehend things as an angel might. That was the first profound discovery.
The second was that the New Earth cannot be all that different from what we know now, only completely pure. Human beings, even human souls, must have an environment for communicating. I had a theory that disembodied spirits could have some form of telepathy in which they communicate--and that may still be true. But if we're going to have glorified bodies one day, then we are surely going to need a glorified location in which we live.
As I've mentioned before, C.S. Lewis' theories have greatly helped my research for this story, more so the heavenly than the earthly. At first he made my ideas seem so ordinary and not even close to what I was really trying to attain. But then I realized that it is not possible to accurately depict the heavenly things. Because no eye has seen and no ear has heard, and no mind can conceive, it's only natural that my imaginings are according to my own understanding. As a dog can't comprehend things as a human can, so a human can't comprehend things as an angel might. That was the first profound discovery.
The second was that the New Earth cannot be all that different from what we know now, only completely pure. Human beings, even human souls, must have an environment for communicating. I had a theory that disembodied spirits could have some form of telepathy in which they communicate--and that may still be true. But if we're going to have glorified bodies one day, then we are surely going to need a glorified location in which we live.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Pop! and The Call
10:22am
I saw him again...only it wasn't a him; it was clearly a woman. I feel stupid now that all the pieces are put together. You want to know what gave it away? The shirt. The shirt was the kind I see my thirteen-year-old cousin wear. It has a seam just below the bust line with cute barely puffed sleeves. She was wearing the toboggan cap again and it was seventy degrees outside, so that must mean that it's not really for warmth. The way she walked suggests a mental illness, which isn't unusual at all, given that there is a mental care place several blocks away. People from there walk in my neighborhood all the time, just usually in groups. I can't believe they'd let her go by herself. The strange thing is that she comes past my house, continues for a little ways and then abruptly stops and immediately turns back. The first time I noticed her she stopped for a second, but then went a few steps, stopped again, and then turned back. It's very indecisive, just like my mother was when she was sick with depression. Decision-making is affected a lot with that illness, and I wouldn't be surprised if that's something this woman has.
I'm just a bit sad that my character couldn't be in the form of someone living. It seriously burst my bubble. It's like waking up from a wonderful dream only to find that it wasn't real.
7:50pm
I think this particular entry is going to be a pretty long one, there's just been a lot on my mind today. It's one of those days that's not just cloudy, but gray and dark and rainy; perfect weather for writing my girl character's death scene. I went out on the patio and just sat watching the wind sweep through the trees, and I knew it was time. The atmosphere was just perfect for it so I grabbed a cup of tea, letting it and myself steep in the moment*. Looking back, I think there's a lot that could be improved on and fleshed out, but it's a good start. The weather tonight very, very closely resembles that which Nikki sees in her last moments, and we haven't had rain in a really long time, so I had to scoop up the opportunity. I even let my dinner sit until I had finished. It's easy to write the facts, but it's difficult to say it poetically and...I guess not in a boring way. So when the poetry flows, I pause everything else to collect it. Sometimes to warm up, I write how I'm feeling at the moment to see if any of my thoughts would mirror the characters'. Should there be any journal entries in the book, you can bet they're based heavily on my thoughts. Here's a small part of what I wrote tonight:
Someday it will never be like this. The cold inside my heart will be filled with His warmth. The dark, bleakness of late fall will be but a memory. The sun really will come out tomorrow--whenever tomorrow finally comes.
Of course I can't tell you what I wrote, but I hope the finished product will move people to both sorrow and joy. Death for a Christian has that bittersweet taste; the conflict of good and bad that makes it so hard to cope sometimes. It's this struggle that I was hoping to capture by having one of the characters die first.
Most of the songs that I found so fitting to listen to when I write are typically about the story itself, but one song spoke volumes about my own journey through this process and about how my 'sorrow and joy' power the whole project. I first heard it a long time ago, but when I listened to it again, it said everything I never could. This story is partly my story, a collection of all my hopes into a single picture. If I hadn't felt some of the things my characters feel, I don't think I could write this, and I wouldn't care enough to do it anyway. So here's line by line how this song fits in with everything. I've also added links in some of the explanations that take you to a picture. =)
It started out as a feeling - [It started out as love for someone lost and when he died, I pictured doves flying. =)]
Which then grew into a hope - [In a rather wordless, picture-less way I knew I would see him again. I don't have the specific picture that triggered this thought...er, hope, but this one should do.]
Which then turned into a quiet thought - [I pictured our meeting...(above pic still applies.)]
Which then turned into a quiet word - [...then put those feelings and pictures into words...somehow I began to think of my papers on strings when listening to this song.]
And then that word grew louder and louder, 'til it was a battle cry - [A few words became many...and my feelings toward that initial thought grew stronger, and I thought 'Wait a minute...he'll be back!' (pic below)]
I'll come back - [I remembered Judgment Day and thought--very poetically, but not accurately--'will he just show up on the doorstep one day?']
When He calls me - [Word change here...Jesus has to give the sign, of course ;-)]
No need to say goodbye - [We get so caught up in goodbyes to the deceased, when they're really just gone for a little while; therefore, no goodbyes necessary! This picture, in my mind, depicts the characters saying goodbye on earth at the airport.]
Just because everything's changing, doesn't mean it's never been this way before - [Everything will one day be restored to what it was meant to be. Maybe Adam and Eve had a slice of it, hmm? There are too many pictures to reduce this to one, but here's something that works well.]
All you can do is try to know who your friends are as you head off to the war - [In the meantime, stick with your friends as soldiers in God's army.]
Pick a star on the dark horizon and follow the light - [In the story heaven is depicted as being a star in the sky, something real, but unexplainable, like the star of Bethlehem. Not accurate at all, but a fantastic idea! ;-)]
You'll come back when it's over. No need to say goodbye - [Yep, not just everyone we know, the characters will make their reappearance on the last day.]
Now, we're back to the beginning. It's just a feeling and no one knows yet - [It's still in the early stages, and most people have no idea what this is all about, or that I'm even writing anything.]
But just because they can't feel it too, doesn't mean that you have to forget. - [Not everyone can understand what I'm feeling. I'm definitely holding on and not forgetting him, though.]
Let your memories grow stronger and stronger, 'til they're before your eyes - [As I'm writing I'm making scenes in my head of what may actually come to fruition. I just picked out a painting that looks very much like my boy character.]
You'll come back when He calls you. No need to say goodbye - [Yep, back to this again. He'll be back one day and until then, I'm not saying goodbye...hence the story so I don't have to. ;-)]
Here's the song if you want to listen to it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x9q_65eL-GQ
*While I worked, I listened to Long Long Time Ago, The Portrait, and There's No Place Like Home (the latter I will also use for the friends' reunion in heaven).
I saw him again...only it wasn't a him; it was clearly a woman. I feel stupid now that all the pieces are put together. You want to know what gave it away? The shirt. The shirt was the kind I see my thirteen-year-old cousin wear. It has a seam just below the bust line with cute barely puffed sleeves. She was wearing the toboggan cap again and it was seventy degrees outside, so that must mean that it's not really for warmth. The way she walked suggests a mental illness, which isn't unusual at all, given that there is a mental care place several blocks away. People from there walk in my neighborhood all the time, just usually in groups. I can't believe they'd let her go by herself. The strange thing is that she comes past my house, continues for a little ways and then abruptly stops and immediately turns back. The first time I noticed her she stopped for a second, but then went a few steps, stopped again, and then turned back. It's very indecisive, just like my mother was when she was sick with depression. Decision-making is affected a lot with that illness, and I wouldn't be surprised if that's something this woman has.
I'm just a bit sad that my character couldn't be in the form of someone living. It seriously burst my bubble. It's like waking up from a wonderful dream only to find that it wasn't real.
7:50pm
I think this particular entry is going to be a pretty long one, there's just been a lot on my mind today. It's one of those days that's not just cloudy, but gray and dark and rainy; perfect weather for writing my girl character's death scene. I went out on the patio and just sat watching the wind sweep through the trees, and I knew it was time. The atmosphere was just perfect for it so I grabbed a cup of tea, letting it and myself steep in the moment*. Looking back, I think there's a lot that could be improved on and fleshed out, but it's a good start. The weather tonight very, very closely resembles that which Nikki sees in her last moments, and we haven't had rain in a really long time, so I had to scoop up the opportunity. I even let my dinner sit until I had finished. It's easy to write the facts, but it's difficult to say it poetically and...I guess not in a boring way. So when the poetry flows, I pause everything else to collect it. Sometimes to warm up, I write how I'm feeling at the moment to see if any of my thoughts would mirror the characters'. Should there be any journal entries in the book, you can bet they're based heavily on my thoughts. Here's a small part of what I wrote tonight:
Someday it will never be like this. The cold inside my heart will be filled with His warmth. The dark, bleakness of late fall will be but a memory. The sun really will come out tomorrow--whenever tomorrow finally comes.
Of course I can't tell you what I wrote, but I hope the finished product will move people to both sorrow and joy. Death for a Christian has that bittersweet taste; the conflict of good and bad that makes it so hard to cope sometimes. It's this struggle that I was hoping to capture by having one of the characters die first.
Most of the songs that I found so fitting to listen to when I write are typically about the story itself, but one song spoke volumes about my own journey through this process and about how my 'sorrow and joy' power the whole project. I first heard it a long time ago, but when I listened to it again, it said everything I never could. This story is partly my story, a collection of all my hopes into a single picture. If I hadn't felt some of the things my characters feel, I don't think I could write this, and I wouldn't care enough to do it anyway. So here's line by line how this song fits in with everything. I've also added links in some of the explanations that take you to a picture. =)
It started out as a feeling - [It started out as love for someone lost and when he died, I pictured doves flying. =)]
Which then grew into a hope - [In a rather wordless, picture-less way I knew I would see him again. I don't have the specific picture that triggered this thought...er, hope, but this one should do.]
Which then turned into a quiet thought - [I pictured our meeting...(above pic still applies.)]
Which then turned into a quiet word - [...then put those feelings and pictures into words...somehow I began to think of my papers on strings when listening to this song.]
And then that word grew louder and louder, 'til it was a battle cry - [A few words became many...and my feelings toward that initial thought grew stronger, and I thought 'Wait a minute...he'll be back!' (pic below)]
I'll come back - [I remembered Judgment Day and thought--very poetically, but not accurately--'will he just show up on the doorstep one day?']
When He calls me - [Word change here...Jesus has to give the sign, of course ;-)]
No need to say goodbye - [We get so caught up in goodbyes to the deceased, when they're really just gone for a little while; therefore, no goodbyes necessary! This picture, in my mind, depicts the characters saying goodbye on earth at the airport.]
Just because everything's changing, doesn't mean it's never been this way before - [Everything will one day be restored to what it was meant to be. Maybe Adam and Eve had a slice of it, hmm? There are too many pictures to reduce this to one, but here's something that works well.]
All you can do is try to know who your friends are as you head off to the war - [In the meantime, stick with your friends as soldiers in God's army.]
You'll come back when it's over. No need to say goodbye - [Yep, not just everyone we know, the characters will make their reappearance on the last day.]
Now, we're back to the beginning. It's just a feeling and no one knows yet - [It's still in the early stages, and most people have no idea what this is all about, or that I'm even writing anything.]
But just because they can't feel it too, doesn't mean that you have to forget. - [Not everyone can understand what I'm feeling. I'm definitely holding on and not forgetting him, though.]
Let your memories grow stronger and stronger, 'til they're before your eyes - [As I'm writing I'm making scenes in my head of what may actually come to fruition. I just picked out a painting that looks very much like my boy character.]
You'll come back when He calls you. No need to say goodbye - [Yep, back to this again. He'll be back one day and until then, I'm not saying goodbye...hence the story so I don't have to. ;-)]
Here's the song if you want to listen to it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x9q_65eL-GQ
*While I worked, I listened to Long Long Time Ago, The Portrait, and There's No Place Like Home (the latter I will also use for the friends' reunion in heaven).
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Together At Last
11:02am
I feel really odd today; strangely apathetic and yet a bit depressed. I saw a post on facebook between a brother and a sister about plans for Thanksgiving and it kind of got to me. It's hard being apart from those we care about. Everyone is given a unique set of friends and family. We should take more time to be thankful for those around us because we're truly privileged to know them. Won't it be fantastic when we're all together at last? There's no one alive who hasn't lost somebody. Maybe we can all share the hope of seeing the someone we miss.
I feel really odd today; strangely apathetic and yet a bit depressed. I saw a post on facebook between a brother and a sister about plans for Thanksgiving and it kind of got to me. It's hard being apart from those we care about. Everyone is given a unique set of friends and family. We should take more time to be thankful for those around us because we're truly privileged to know them. Won't it be fantastic when we're all together at last? There's no one alive who hasn't lost somebody. Maybe we can all share the hope of seeing the someone we miss.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Out the Window
7:45pm
My tradition of sitting at the window has become an everyday thing. As this has gone on, several sights have become familiar to me: 1) the school buses passing; 2) the setting sun; 3) the minute changes of the seasons--to name a few. Recently, though, there's been a new addition to this list: a person who walks by at about the same time every day. I can't quite figure out the gender or age, but it is my opinion that it is a young boy, probably about 5'6 in height. I'm stationed a bit higher than him so it's hard to tell. I'd usually be looking up to someone of that height. Today he wore a plaid knit toboggan cap, a honey-colored leather jacket, and black dressy shoes. The other thing is that he doesn't walk ambitiously, in a dance-y pattern the way some men do. It's almost shy, like how a child or young teen might walk. I honestly don't even want to know, should 'he' really be an old-fashioned lady. You see, he looks kind of how I imagined my boy character, Alex, and since now I have someone living to study, I'd rather keep the mystery exactly as it is. Perhaps one day I'll give him a name.
There used to be a lady who was between the height of a midget and a very short woman, who dragged a red wagon with a baby doll inside and anything else needed on the day. Some thought she was retarded, but I suppose now we won't know for sure. I haven't seen her in a very long time.
My tradition of sitting at the window has become an everyday thing. As this has gone on, several sights have become familiar to me: 1) the school buses passing; 2) the setting sun; 3) the minute changes of the seasons--to name a few. Recently, though, there's been a new addition to this list: a person who walks by at about the same time every day. I can't quite figure out the gender or age, but it is my opinion that it is a young boy, probably about 5'6 in height. I'm stationed a bit higher than him so it's hard to tell. I'd usually be looking up to someone of that height. Today he wore a plaid knit toboggan cap, a honey-colored leather jacket, and black dressy shoes. The other thing is that he doesn't walk ambitiously, in a dance-y pattern the way some men do. It's almost shy, like how a child or young teen might walk. I honestly don't even want to know, should 'he' really be an old-fashioned lady. You see, he looks kind of how I imagined my boy character, Alex, and since now I have someone living to study, I'd rather keep the mystery exactly as it is. Perhaps one day I'll give him a name.
There used to be a lady who was between the height of a midget and a very short woman, who dragged a red wagon with a baby doll inside and anything else needed on the day. Some thought she was retarded, but I suppose now we won't know for sure. I haven't seen her in a very long time.
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