Luke Ln. and Highway 19

"Missing someone who's face you've seen before is one thing. But missing someone you haven't met face-to-face yet is another thing."

* * *

Once upon a time, in a little town off Luke Ln. and Highway 19 a tax collector sauntered the streets. Nobody walked with him, nobody talked to him. His face, shrouded in the cloak and hood that hung at his shoulders, was downcast, and he picked up his feet hardly at all. This tax collector was the picture of loneliness and despair. His life was sunk. He'd ruined his reputation, and he had gone so far into his evil deeds that he didn't believe he could ever be pulled out. With ever step, the weight of his sins heaped more heavily across his shoulders. He was out of hope.

The mid afternoon sun was beating down as the crow, like a herd of cattle, pressed and blundered and trampled their way around to hear what this new Teacher had to say. They had heard tale of this Teacher from many people---stories of his wise words, his bold finger rebukes, and even whisperings of miracles he preformed. The teacher made his way to a good spot where his face was shaded by a sycamore tree and began to speak.

Everyone wanted to hear what he had to say.

The tax collector continued to make his way down the street. He noticed the stillness around him and was confused at the lack of the usual evening rush of villagers. 

A then he saw it. 

The entire town was up ahead, near the sycamore tree, paying close attention to something the tax collector could not see. Holding his head a little higher and widening his eyes with curiosity, he picked up his pace and headed toward the people. Once there he was appalled at the mass of the crowed. Standing on the outskirts, there was no way that the tax collector could hear what was being spoken by the figure in the center. 

He wondered what on earth would capture this many people's attention? Who could this man, this foreign man truly be?

Filled with wonderment, the man struggled to press through the crowed in order to see and hear better. Unfortunately, he was small and easily looked over. After being trampled beneath the hooves of the citizens, his eyes fell to the tree that stood in a very convenient placed. 

Ah! That was it! The tree!

By now the tax collector was in earnest. Although he was unsure of why, he wanted with all his heart to see what this was all about. 

The tree looked easy enough to climb. Up and in and over and through---the tax collector moved through the branches. His small size made it easy to maneuver, and determinedly, he gazed that the face of the speaker.

And that was when it happened. 

Their eyes met. 

* * *

To read the rest check out Luke Chapter 19.

But boy, this guy longed to see Jesus. He wanted that opportunity. Bad. Maybe we can learn something from ol' Zac. 

Kismint the Kartoonist

I found this neat cartoon site to play around with. Very simplified and easy to use!
For Hamlet's Soliloquy (--err, at least part of it) I used the computer voice (that happens to be British).

The computer ain't much of an actor. =P

Soliloquy Solo by kismint on GoAnimate

Animation Software - Powered by GoAnimate.

Tell me whatcha think!

God bless,
K-Minty

Hammock || Mono No Aware

Play this when you have 6 minutes and 39 seconds to glue your paper heart to your sleeve and wear melancholy as a pair of socks.



Love this music video. A lot.

A Talebearer's Re-accountings

As I fall asleep, my eyes widen. Carols of the midsummer ring in the peppered air. Words, like purple lupins of the mountainside spring gallantly int the present ad out of the past. I remember.

I remember everything now.

The wind over the lake the sad in our eyes. It was a dream in my mind, but that didn't matter, because I was dreaming now. Our dreams intertwined together and danced a swirly-twirly dance I couldn't think of a name for. he whirl of colors reflected off of the water like stained glass, and the sky was tinted like a rainbow. We had forgotton our sunglasses, but the wider our eyelids we flung open like shutters on a window, the more clearly we could see. This was truely a world at its brightest. At that point, we knew light never lost a fight agaist dark. It never even had to try.

2:00 AM and the mist approaches the bay.

My shoes are by my side and my feet over the edge. Nothing but the lights of the seaport to catch my eye. All is still. Everything lonely. My only thoughs dive the depths of the ocean vistas far beneath me, and Iwnder at my finds. I know the light does not hit some places down there.

But that is no accident.

Clock chimes: 2...3...4...It never stops. Every once in a while, those bells might take a quick breather, but stop? No. They won't stop. It is their job to be a force that is inherently impossible to stop. Time is not a thing to meddle with---only to use wisely.

There was more. More in a woody glade. It started warm and green: fresh with living things. The light there was not dead, but very much breathing. It raidiated out, filling the place with a glowing brilliance. Every leaf and bough was a star in the sky, gleaming with a sparkle of its own. But after a while, cold and bitter raided and stole. They took what was never their's, replacing the green with burned colors of rust and mud.. Bare and gloomy is that place now. I am glad I once saw it how it was ment to be.

When I said it all came back to me, it was no lie. But a talebearer cannot tell all that has happened, lest she run short of her onn trade.

What do you see with those eyes of yours? Open up.

Stringy Thoughts

So do you mind ink blots or not?
I'm not good with writing much of anything. It's clear enough, I know. But it's okay anyway.

I've got youth group hockey league on the brain (as was testified in the previous post), and a stack of t-shirts to hang up floating above my head. Also, this keyboard is driving me crazy because I have to press really hard to make every 'r' come after the 'e', 'h' come after the 't', and 'space' come in between.

Autumn is here. Unfortunately, it happens that Fall falls at a very depressing time---when school starts warming up. Oh joy. Autumn is also a bit irritating at times because to be honest, cacti and palm trees don't exactly have leaves that burst into brilliant golds, tangerines, and rubies. But you know what? Autumn brings hope to the desert dweller. It brings a taste of cooler temperatures, an inkling of pumpkin pie, and sometimes---on the very rare occasion---an excuse to wear a hoodie!

And that is a reason to thank God for Autumn.

So anyway, all this Autumn hallapalooza stuff that goes on is giving me another legit excuse too. Therefore, dear friends, when you wonder at why on earth I am changing my blog template for the 400th-odd time, I will look you blankly in the eye and proclaim that:

"I want to keep up with the festivity."

 

 

After all, what would the world do without those people who can't stand to let the paint dry on their wall because they want a new color up ASAP??

 

Stay creative, and smile with your hoodies and holidays!

God bless,

K-Minty

*Epic Music Plays*

Hockey pictuuuuuuure!

(photo taken by dad)

Guys, it's time. Hockey time.

Dear You,

You're so awesome. I love that dorky smile of yours. It lights me up on the inside---the way your eyes are so sparkly. It's a joy when I see that excited side of you come out. That normally reserved and composed person who you pretend to be on the outside suddenly gets caught up in the moment and turns a new leaf.
You and your funny little dances, teasing remarks, bubbling laughter...What would I do without you?

I won't forget that day you gave me your hand to help me up. And every time I see you you let me know that you're always ready to give me that hand again.

You encourage me to play hard and to give it everything, and you do the same right in step with me. You refuse to let me get down on myself, you listen to my rants. You watch with wondering eyes as you see me in my hyper mood, whooping and screaming the evening out.

But the best thing about you is that you don't care that I'm the most lame person in the world. And that's very nice of you.

They say to write what you know

but I don't know what to write!

Inklings Maybe?

What can I do?
Just throw my hand up in the air so high
And spend the day with you

So what can I say?
Only a word of wisdom slips off my lips
Ever other yesterday

And how can I see?
What everybody else is speaking of
And how everything will be

Oh what can I do?

* * *

                                                                                                                                   
There. I have one of the Relient K songs that I put on my blog playlist (down there at the bottom) and I don't actually know the words.
Thus: I make up my own words. And ultimately, song---or poem rather. Writing songs is hard. They turn out really dopey. Even if I try reeealy hard they still turn out dopey. But I try anyway. And speaking of tunes, I needa go and mix a few to put on my YouTube channel.
Hmm...
It still bugs me that one of my two subscribers unsubscribed. Growl. A very decent fellow indeed.

What? I'm not bitter. Whatever possessed your mind to think that I'm bitter??!

(*snarky laugh* Ha, no really, I'm just kidding ;)

So there are plenty of things that I could post about. I just haven't. And now is not the time. At the moment, my blog is my momentary outlet of wordiness.
---I mean, it almost always is, but right now especially.

I feel like I'm having a one-sided conversation. I know someone (A.K.A., you) is reading on the other side of the screen, but at the moment, I feel like I'm talking to no one. It's a funny thought. And I like funny thoughts. They make me curious. Just like Merry and Pippin and their fireworks, Ven and his seaside daydreams, and Lucy and the wardrobe.

* * *

Someday I'll live in a tree house. It will be big and leafy, with lots of windows, trap doors, ladders, a hammock or two, and wooden bowls, cups, and plates. At the top will be a little platform that I'll sit on and play my keyboard. I'll sing there too. My stringy, croaking voice will probably scare all the birds away, but I'll sing anyway.

In the fall, all the leaves will turn gold and orange---maybe even a few reds in there too. I'll begin to pile up the blankets and snuggle up to my nose in the evening when the chills nip in. There'll be a little clay brick fireplace in one corner, and a tiny smokestack to go with it, and that's where I'll make my hot coco. By the time December rolls around, every leaf will have sailed away far and deep from my paradise, but that's when my windows and skylights will let in every sparkle of the pure silvery light that sifts through the atmosphere and catches in my eyes. After a light snow, everything will glitter, and my castle of wood will be guarded by the rows of pointed icicles that might parade outside my door.

Finally, springtime will come. Nothing will ever be more beautiful than seeing my tree burst into green life. More shades of living green than I or you or anyone else will have ever imagined. The sun will catch in that green, and I'll see highlights dance on my floor in the midnoon. The gentle breeze that will sway the boughs will weave through my hair. I'll sigh, pick up a page and a pen, and finally find that place that I've searched for in my dreams.

* * *

Yes, curiosity probably did kill the cat. But I don't really like cats that much anyway.

If only I could be more curious about school. If only I could find something that I was really reeeeally interested in concerning atmospheric pressure, X & Y, Huckleberry Finn, the Nile river, or taking pictures of chow mein.
THAT would be pretty awesome.
But even if I can't I still have to do it. Which is why I say

God bless!
K-Minty

For Your Information

I though you should know that

To All The Little Linus's

As an ode to all the Linus's in the world.

Whether or not you realize it, you are greatly needed in the world.

Stupid page. It's blank.

Yeah, we'll see about THAT.

Okay, I'm in one of those moods again guys:

I can't write something cool, inspiring, humorous, or remotely entertaining.

 

AhhhHAAAHhaaahAHAAha!!

*runs outside and screams to the heavens, hoping for a random lightning bolt to strike some spark of inspiration*

 

...I'm calm...I'm calm...

 

 

* * *

 

I looked under the rug, in the fridge, beneath the bed, behind the dresser, below the couch cushions, inside the broom closet, among the china, above the cabinets, and throughout the entire house. But I just COULDN'T find it! I lay on the bed while pounding my face into the pillow.

Just WHERE did I leave that inspiration?

 

And then it hit me.

 

I rocket to my closet, pulled on mismatched socks, slipped on my Converse, and pulled my gray hoodie around my shoulders. My feet flew to the door. My hand reached for the knob. And I was outta there. And into here.

 

Where was "here"?

 

You'll just have to come along to find out.

 

* * *

 

The weather is a nice 96 Fahrenheit, and life slowly becomes concentrated to a higher degree with school work, and I dilute it by photography, blogging, and reading The Lost Journals of Ven Polypheme.

 

Other than that, what can I say?

 

I'm a class clown, ate applesauce on my toast today, my three pairs of shoes share two pairs of laces, and I'm still troubled by the fact that Andy Griffith died.

 

 

"LIFE:
Where our motto is: 'If you're prepared, you're doing it wrong!'"

God bless!



I'm It, You're It, We're All It

So.
Tonight is a good night.

BECAUSE HOLY CRAB CAKE, I'VE BEEN TAGGED! 

The Non-Prose Story

Hey guys. Let's see what's in the ol' brain today, hmm?
Ah! A poem. I haven't written a poem in a long time.
The following is split into three portions, but the portions are meant, in some odd and wondering way, to be read together. 

...
I have a story to tell

It talks of many things

They were once whispered in the hollows

And in the early Autumn leaves

Nothing lives like once before

A life of good and grace

A life of non-abhor

The era of longlivity

Was long lived certainly not

But though time my weather and grind

This time time never forgot

There once was a maiden

Her voice a sweet harp

And in the forest glade of Nilthrein she played her tunes

Beneath the suns and stars and moons

The words they melted into air

And the sky himself opened his stony face

To hear the sound of song

The sound of heaven in leafy space

She wished to leave the forest glade

The glade of emerald seas

Because secretly she longed inside

To touch the ocean breeze

For ten hundred years the sailors would tell

Of the maiden in the jaded wood

And they spoke of her beauty with words

And the song that none understood

Indeed, she sang of longing

Though she spoke in words not plain

For though she was trapping inside her prison

She only masked her pain

The world was a window

A window to high through which to see

And stuck she was in her forest hold

Far from the western sea

...
There once was a jackalope

He came from a mountain plain

The world was his for the taking

And a traveler he became

He saw the greatest giants

Who dwelt in northern caves

And caverns very far beneath

The deepest ocean waves

He saw many other miracles

And touched the sands of time

He walked the blizzard of Grithem

And sauntered through seas of Celandine

 The lightning at The Cornerstone

Struck fear into him not

And before long he was a learned fellow

By the world shaped, shifted, and taught

But after all his adventures

Through the storm and the heat of it all

A sadness in his heart was deepened

And a secret of despair his to befall

The days of his worldly wandering

Paid off little to none

And still he was searching for something more

Just as on the day his search had begun

 ...
And now I come to my conclusion

Which lacks conclusion to say the least

But the conclusion is yours for the taking

If you can take it from beast

He lives in the darkest depths of your mind

And lurks in the shadowy waves of time

His lie is bought more often then not

And it's your conclusion he longs to haunt

For he is a sorry end to a promising life

And life that was wasted on outward things

A life that was spent in a cage of "What-ifs?"

And a life that was not spent catching dreams

My World Can Be...Different

Some people see the world through rose colored glasses. Apparently I see the world through broken ones.

A panoramic view of West Point taken by yours truly (unedited).

(click to enlarge)

A panoramic view of West Point taken by my dear father (unedited).

(click to enlarge)

I'm telling you, the guy with the umbrella moved!!

No.
Really.
He did.

My Lecturing Time

Allow a girl to be candid for a moment. Because I have a confession to make.

I've just about given chivalry the deathblow.

Hey now, it's not like a I mean to; It's simply the skeptic in me. I bite the hand that feeds me, and I want to apologize for that.

Do you relate? I wouldn't be surprised if you answered me with a mumbleabolic mutter of "...yessss".

Ya wanna know why?
Because we're human. That's why. We live in a sick---as in dying---world where love, trust, and hope get thrown out the window and into the dumpster. As a matter of fact, we pride ourselves in being so self-reliant that we no longer need other people's kindness. Naw, who needs someone to open the door when you can open it yourself.

Do people really think you're helpless?
No.
They're just trying to be helpful.

There's a cliche going on around here, and that would be: "My faith in humanity is restored!"

Hmm. I feel like the human population should take smaller steps.
Let's try letting humanity grow before we stomp it out first.
Then we can change the cliche to "My faith in humanity is restored!"
And from there we can work with it.

But back to chivalry.

I found this quote at this blog. Gave me a guilt trip.
(...also made me smirk & smile...)

"Guys, keep chivalry alive. Ladies, try not to kill it."

Ouch. 

(What? You too? Okay, here's a band-aid.)

Also, when I hear the word chivalry, I happen to hear Edmund shouting at Peter as he turns away from Miraz with sword in hand (why hello Narnians). 

So let me say it now:

Somewhere inside of you, inside of me, inside of everyone, there really is a daisy of a person just waiting to bloom. Yes, we're humans, but then again, that means we naturally have a little humanity to begin with. =)

Just look in all the cardboard boxes stashed in your heart, and I'm telling you, you'll find a little chivalry to spare (and a little gratitude for it as well) somewhere buried deep in the packing peanuts. 

Now go and save the world.

Think of You: Number Four

My last three posts have been sort of a tribute-shout out sort of thing to some of my awesome blogger buddies. (SOME, not ALL. Be aware. There are more minions in the closet.)

This way you all think I'm a nice person.*
(*Sarcasm)

Anyway, before I hurt myself...