Riding by Factories on a Sun-Filled Morning

I've always had a strange fascination with old, abandoned buildings and especially old warehouses. It seems like every town and city has at least a few of these. As I was riding the train back from New York City to Charleston I saw a lot of empty warehouses and factories. Near Baltimore I saw what looked like an entire abandoned mill village with the large factories surrounded by rows of adorable, brightly colored row houses where those who used to work at these mills lived. I was struck with a twinge of sadness at seeing these and it inspired the following poem. This is my first and perhaps my last attempt at a free verse poem as I think my skills lie more with an old-fashioned, rythmic style of poetry but here it is:

Riding by Factories on a Sun-Filled Morning

Time, such an inexplicable thing
Towns across the country filled with warehouses
Empty, broken emblems of a time gone by,
Faded into an all too visible obscurity.
Shattered windows and graffiti-stained walls,
The only visible signs of man's continued presence,
Interest in their once bustling existence.
Silent, they beckon us with this question,
If bricks could speak what stories might they tell?
Perhaps they could shed light on this subject
Which centuries of bearded men could not,
The essence of time, known only to God.

Portrait of a Lady

I just recently discovered the lucid work of the twentieth century British painter, Meredith Frampton. I particularly like his portraits of ladies from the 1920s as to me they represent the physical epitomy of elegance. It got me to wondering though about what makes a woman a Lady. I've always wanted to be considered a Lady although I do have a mischievous side that is probably far from ladylike!

 

Being a Lady, however, is not really about how you dress or how you look so much as it is about your character. How do you view yourself, the world, and those around you and how do you act towards them? Below I have come up with a description about what I think it means to be a Lady although I am sure there are things that I have missed.

 

A lady tries to put the feelings of others before her own. She is polite and respectful. She assumes responsibility for her actions. She goes out of her way to protect the dignity of others. She uses her strengths to gently infuse comfort and warmth into the lives of others. She keeps her given word. She is trustworthy. She conducts herself with grace and self-respect. She appreciates and accepts the courtesy paid to her by a gentleman. She does not seek to rise above him, but rather supports him – if he is a real gentleman – and defers to him.

 

I don't know about you but I find this to be an intimidating model to follow! Nevertheless, it is something I would like to strive to be even though I'm sure it will take the rest of my life to even come close. You cannot achieve, however, what you do not attempt. What do you think it means to be a Lady?



Words...Words...Words

As I enjoy a savory meal, a soft blanket, or a harmonious song, I enjoy a good word. Now unlike Hamlet, I do like some illustrations along with my words when I'm reading a book, but the power of words is undeniable. While I usually assess a word based on its meaning or sound, I can't say I have often thought about the length of a word. This past spring one of the students that I tutor kept asking me what is the longest word in the world, prompted by his complaints about the length of Latin words. Having lived in Germany for three years, I thought to myself "Boy, if you think Latin is bad you should try learning German!" Nevertheless, it piqued my curiousity so I tried to find out the answer to his query but alas it is quite a debated topic and I could not come up with a definite answer. Apparently though, what is said to be the longest word in German will soon be no more according to the article in the link below. The 63-letter word is Rindfleischetikettierungsüberwachungsaufgabenübertragungsgesetz which is the word for beef labelling monitoring assessment assignment law.

http://www.thelocal.de/sci-tech/20130603-50071.html

Although German is famous for having endless words, English has its fair share of lengthy words as well. Here are just a few of them:

antidisestablishmentarianism-opposition to the disestablishment of the Church of England - 28 letters

floccinaucinihilipilification-the estimation of something as worthless - 29 letters

pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis-a supposed lung disease - 45 letters

I found all of this to be quite amusing and I hope you do to!

The Road Taken

This post is written more in a stream of consciousness style rather than as a cohesive idea and as with any post that I write I am speaking more to myself and trying to gather together my own thoughts rather than trying to convince potential readers of anything. The last lines of the well-known poem by Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken, are frequently misquoted in my opinion.

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,               

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood                                        

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

 

Then took the other, as just as fair,                                     

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there                                  

Had worn them really about the same,

 

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

 

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

 

Like anything or anyone you have to take this poem as a whole, and I think it captures quite pointedly human nature. Part of us desires things of this earth which, if we look to them for fulfillment, can ultimately be destructive; another part of us longs for something higher and greater than ourselves and the confines of this world. Our default nature is to focus on those earthly things that we can actually see. Why? First, because it’s easier and two, because we are humans! Now most of these earthly things I’m referring to are good things in and of themselves; it is what we do with them and how we view them that can strip away their innate goodness. I personally long for something in my life that is greater than my own feeble self and something that will never let me down. This compels me to seek the road less-traveled. Now I’m not urging you and me to take some lonely road; there are others who have taken it before and others who are traveling it right now. Also this path is not devoid of earthly joys; we are actually free to enjoy these things more completely because we are not placing undue expectations on them that they cannot possibly fulfill. At some point in our lives we must make a conscious effort to follow one of the two paths; just because we attempt to live our lives a certain way, however, does not mean that the old struggles, desires, or habits simply disappear. In the third stanza of his poem, Frost expresses this reality that even though he is on his chosen path and is glad about it, sometimes he thinks about the other road and wishes he were there instead.  Sometimes two steps forward will be followed by one step back.

All of this to say, humans have a dual nature and anyone who claims not to have this dual nature is not being honest with themselves. I confess that I am guilty of this very deed.  Why do I fight against admitting this dual nature? Because it means that I have a struggle within, and I don’t know about you but I don’t like to reveal that I am less than perfect. Society and our own pride tell us that we need to have everything together and it comes out even in the smallest ways. For instance when someone asks us how we are doing we are prompted to reply “I’m doing well, thank you” when in fact we may be feeling quite the opposite. I’m not saying that we should spill all our woes and joys to every person we meet, but so often we don’t even share who we are with those who care about us the most out of fear that they will think less of us. You may be surprised but most likely they will actually appreciate you more because they will see you as the fellow human being that you are. A deeper, more affectionate bond will develop than you had before because there is no more façade and honestly, if that person is the perceptive type they probably already know more about you than you think that they do. The road less traveled is not an easy one; in fact it forces us to acknowledge even more the dual nature within us. In taking this less-traveled road, however, we are choosing to be true to ourselves, true to those around us, and true to the deepest longing of our hearts.

A Study in Munch (the artist, not the verb...although that would be tasty)

When people ask me what I studied in college and I reply with art history, they usually respond in one of two ways. The first is by asking whether I paint or draw, assuming that I am an artist. The second is to reply with a generic “oh that’s neat!” I can tell, however, by the blank look in their eyes that they have no idea what art history entails. Art historians study the evolution of the visual arts throughout time and the important role that art plays in the development of culture. Art historians approach a piece of art in two ways: we examine the history/artist/time period of a work of art—called contextual analysis—and just as, if not more importantly we use our eyes and sometimes other senses to examine the visual qualities (color, technique, composition, etc.) of a work of art—called visual analysis. The contextual aspect of a work of art is often quite fixed but it is the visual one that is personal and varies from viewer to viewer. It is this sensual and visually stimulating aspect of art that first drew me to study the history of art. Below is my visual analysis of one of history’s most famous paintings, The Scream, by the Norwegian artist Edvard Munch.

Immediately my eyes are drawn to a pale figure in the foreground whose mouth is open as if screaming and whose hands are pressed to its face in abject terror. One can almost see this scream vibrating across the canvas in the form of the painting’s wavy strokes. The sky is laced with thick, vibrant ribbons of fiery orange and yellow which contrast with the somber black and cool blue that make up the rest of the scene. These contrasting colors produce a mood of turmoil and conflict. The figure seems to be standing on a bridge that cuts the painting with a strong diagonal. The gravitational force of this diagonal conjures up a sense of inevitable fate. Two tall figures looming in the background appear to be steadily approaching the main figure which combined with the position of the viewer in front of the figure creates the sense that the figure’s position is inescapable.  

Beauty Amid the Brokenness

It is not an infrequent sight to find me taking an evening beach walk by myself; I am an introvert, so I recharge by being alone with my thoughts and for me, this is often outdoors with a camera in hand. Last week I took the following photo while on one of these strolls.  As I was walking back to my house I noticed this patch of weeds growing beside a fence. Now often people just walk by weeds but I couldn’t help but be struck by their color and beauty.  I made my way over to them and despite being attacked by a swarm of blood lusty mosquitoes, I refused to recede until I had taken a couple photos.  One of my life mottos as you can see on my profile is that good things come in small packages. I firmly believe that the little things and private moments that are often taken for granted make life so much sweeter and interesting. Ask anyone who knows me well and they will tell you that I have always had a deep appreciation for the small, simple and perhaps even what some would consider the mundane things of life.

 

While looking at this photo on my computer it got me to thinking (no surprise there).  These weeds which are considered undesirable and inconsequential are not unlike humans when compared to the powerful, holy, infinite God of the universe. How thankful I am that our gracious Lord was able to find beauty in the brokenness and insignificance of man! When I start to feel downcast or resentful about life (which is more frequent sometimes than I would like) I try to focus on the little things around me; I cannot remain sad for long because it reminds me that I am the daughter of an omnipotent creator God who found beauty amid the brokenness.



 

A Beautiful, Poignant Prayer

The Awakened Sinner

From Valley of Vision

 

O my forgetful soul,

Awake from your wandering dream;
turn from chasing vanities,
look inward, forward, upward,
view yourself,
reflect upon yourself,
who and what you are, why here,
what you must soon be.
You are a creature of God,
formed and furnished by him,
lodged in a body like a shepherd in his tent;
Do you not desire to know God’s ways?

O God,

You injured, neglected, provoked Benefactor
when I think upon your greatness and your goodness
I am ashamed at my insensibility,
I blush to lift up my face,
for I have foolishly erred.
Shall I go on neglecting you,
when every one of your rational creatures
should love you,
and take every care to please you?
I confess that you have not been in all my thoughts,
that the knowledge of yourself as the end of
my being has been strangely overlooked,
that I have never seriously considered
my heart-need.
But although my mind is perplexed and divided,
my nature perverse,
yet my secret dispositions still desire you.
Let me not delay to come to you;
Break the fatal enchantment that binds
my evil affections,
and bring me to a happy mind that rests in you,
for you have made me and canst not forget me.
Let your Spirit teach me the vital lessons of Christ,
for I am slow to learn;
And you hear my broken cries