Head-dibs

  When I was a teen and well into orchestral training, an album was given to me that would be wonderful to find once again. I believe it was called,     “The Compleat Dancing Master.” [sic] It is no longer available, as far as I am able to discover. It was a collection (as I recall) of Renaissance English Country Dance tunes (fiddles, lutes, pipes, guitar, etc).   When I was a teen and well into orchestral training, an album was given to me that would be wonderful to find once again. I believe it was called,    “The Compleat Dancing Master.” [sic] It is no longer available, as far as I am able to discover. It was a collection (as I recall) of Renaissance English Country Dance tunes (fiddles, lutes, pipes, guitar, etc).  One track in that collection that stood out as a dance tune faded, was this spoken piece attributed to William Prynne, Archbishop of Canterbury from 1633-1645. The deep, solemn voice orated:  “Dancing, is, for the most part, attended with many amorous smiles, wanton com

  I’ve been trying to think of the kind of vessel you n which I would like to journey that would take me to a place I’ve never been before. There are two places I can think of that are at extremes. The first is in the deepest ocean and a second is anywhere in space. Now anyone who knows me knows how much I enjoy science fiction and might enjoy visiting any one of those places, but truth be told I cannot think of a vessel that would be conducive to an enjoyable trip. See, I don’t like small, cramped spaces. One of my favorite stories is a short story by Ray Bradbury. It’s called “Kaleidoscope”. The story begins with a rocket ship, having exploded, sending its occupants floating away from one another into the far reaches a space. The bulk of the story captures their final conversation as a drift away from one another. For me, the horror is not in being trapped in a suit from certain, it would not take long for that sensation to go away. The horror for me is inability to not fully stand u

  The next few weeks I will be consulting a list of writing prompts to use as springboards. The last couple of years have been difficult in more ways to tell and a few things I once enjoyed have fallen by the wayside, writing being one of them. So as I follow these prompts, posts will be random in topic, as demonstrated in the last two.   Some posts may be commentary, some instructional, some imaginative, even speculative, respectively. I am challenging myself not to skip, but to work straight through the spring boards in their own published sequence. It’s not about generating content. It’s about strengthening a muscle. It’s about rekindling a flame. It’s about stretching the imagination, which has real world applications in matters such as problem-solving. My goal is to write in the style of NaNoWriMo; that is to write spontaneously with as little editing as possible, even if that means filling up at least two pages a day of absolute crap (to be clear I endeavor to write at least one

  Whoever said, “love is a many splendored thing” summed it best (I think it was Shakespeare, but I could not find it). So much to be said about love that will not be rehearsed here, except to say that when you love someone who will not love you back is . . . I can’t find a word for it. Those who truly love, that is, reciprocate love, don’t have to meet. Love is there by trust. But there are those who do not trust and so they do not love. Does that mean I must cease to love because someone will not love me in return? That would be selfish, and that would not be love. When love is withdrawn or love becomes duty, everything changes. True lovers need not see each other every day.    They just love, knowing. No work involved. Love is not earned. It is given and received. “It does not seek its own.” Those who withdraw love have forgotten what it is. They say, in effect, “I cannot overlook your faults though I expect you to overlook mine.” Love does not rejoice in what is wrong, but neither

  This time of year one might be inclined to say “frightful.“ We live in an age when every single weather report seems loaded with more negativity than positivity. The forecasters say we need more rain and we need more sun. We can’t wait for warmer temperatures but it’s too hot and can’t wait till it cools off. Opinions about the weather spin like a weathervane in a tornado. If I were to choose a word about the weather I choose the word “fascinating.” Hans Christian Anderson said, “The whole world is a series of miracles, but we're so used to them we call them ordinary things.” Our weather is miraculous. Farmers work with it while the traveler plans against it. The blinding brightness of day is quenched with the turning of the earth, plunging us into smothering darkness in a handful of hours. The air heats and cools so drastically we sometimes heat ourselves at night and cool ourselves at day. Those clouds that block the sun are weighted with millions of gallons of water, untold th

 Idea for a new blog series a-brewing. Stay tuned!

 

 

  After binge watching every episode of “Call The Midwife” on Netflix, I remembered a book by Jack London that I read in high school. I feel a bit foolish taking so long to remember it, but I’m very glad I did. I found a copy in the public domain by going to Amazon and then searched the book by title + “free kindle.”   For many people, just hearing the name Jack London invokes images of his two most well-known stories “Call of the Wild” and “White Fang.” The Cohen brothers did an excellent job capturing his short story, “Valley of Gold,” in the anthology film “The Ballad of Buster Scruggs.” It’s too bad that works such as this one have fallen by the wayside. Though the events of the Jack London’s experience take place 50 years before the TV show, it is been the most educational in getting the full context of what it was like to live in the East End of London. By the end of the seventh chapter, the author has found his way to Poplar, of all places! It is not a difficult or complicated r

  “Abraham did not choose the sacrifice. Always guard against self-chosen service for God; self-sacrifice may be a disease. If God has made your cup sweet, drink it with grace; if He has made it bitter, drink it in communion with Him. If the providential order of God for you is a hard time of difficulty, go through with it, but never choose the scene of your martyrdom. God chose the crucible for Abraham, and Abraham made no demur; he went steadily through. If you are not living in touch with Him, it is easy to pass a crude verdict on God. You must go through the crucible before you have any right to pronounce a verdict, because in the crucible you learn to know God better. God is working for His highest ends until His purpose and man’s purpose become one.” (Oswald Chambers) “A soul cannot seek close fellowship with God or attain the abiding consciousness of waiting on Him all the day without an honest and entire surrender to all His will.” (Andrew Murray) Art: Caravaggio, 1598

“ Dry spells are the instrument of God, for your good. Yes, it is true in such times, your five senses have been deprived and all outward progress of outward piety ends. Know this: In such times you are either going to leave off prayer, and perhaps even a large part of your Christian walk, or you will be driven to a comfort which has nothing to do with the outward senses… There is always a veil that comes to us in relationship to times of dryness; it is a time when we do not know what He is doing. If we always knew what His working was (as He works on our outward man and works in our inward man) we would become very presumptuous. We would imagine we were doing quite well if we always knew what He was doing, would we not? We might  even reckon that we had drawn very near to God. Such a conclusion would soon be our undoing. A dependence upon outward circumstances, everything about your spiritual understanding depending on your outward senses all of this must go by the way. How? By drynes

  “I once met an old man who spoke very slowly, pausing for several seconds between his words. He did this because he was afraid to sin with his words. . . A word is an expression of thoughts; thoughts are the expression of divine force. Therefore, words should correspond to our true meaning. Speech can be indifferent, but it should not be an expression of evil.” (Leo Tolstoy)

  “Have we recognized that our body is the temple of the Holy Ghost? If so, we must be careful to keep it undefiled for Him. We have to remember that our conscious life, though it is only a tiny bit of our personality, is to be regarded by us as a shrine of the Holy Ghost. He will look after the unconscious part that we know nothing of; but we must see that we guard the conscious part for which we are responsible.” (Oswald Chambers, “My Utmost for His Highest”) “The Father in heaven is so interested in His child and so longs to have his life in His will and His love at every step that He is willing to keep his guidance in His own hand. He knows that we are unable to do what is holy and heavenly except as He works it in us, so His very demands become promises of what He will do in watching over and leading us all the day. Not only in special difficulties and times of perplexity, but also in the common course of everyday life, we may count upon Him to teach us His way and show us His pat

  “The circumstances of a saint’s life are ordained of God. In the life of a saint there is no such thing as chance. God by His providence brings you into circumstances that you cannot understand at all, but the Spirit of God understands. God is bringing you into places and among people and into conditions in order that the intercession of the Spirit in you may take a particular line.” (Oswald Chambers, “My Utmost For His Highest) “Before you pray, bow quietly before God to remember and realize who He is, how near He is, and how certainly He can and will help. . . . And when you are praying, let there be intervals of silence, reverent stillness of soul, in which you yield yourself to God in case He may desire to teach you or to work in you. Waiting on Him will become the most blessed part of prayer, and the blessing thus obtained will be doubly precious as the fruit of such fellowship with the Holy One.” (Andrew Murray, “Waiting on God”, Fourth Day)

 

  “Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these?”  (Shakespeare, “King Lear” III.IV.35ff)