Entropy // Redd Legend Film

Pretending.

At night I used to look up at the sky. Sometimes the moon would be out, and would be so luminescent that I would wonder if God had spent all afternoon polishing it up just for me. It's pureness and whiteness made me blink and look away. It's beautiful the way a mere reflection could be so powerful. On nights when I was looking at the moon I'd sometimes imagine the sky was a big black dome of construction paper. And somehow, someone up there had made a roundish, crescent-shape hole in the paper. That was the moon. Through the hole was Heaven's white brightish glory, peeping through the sky just a little bit.

And if I pretended that, I could suddenly behold a tiny taste of something eternal.

Too pure for the world to touch.

Mild Juncture

So I've got this thing where I can't write unless I read. It's like I have to fill up my word tank so that I can then spew my own syllables for you to interpret. Unfortunately, I don't read much these days. Which is kind of a character flaw of mine, and I'm not proud of it.
That said, I am happily devouring To Kill a Mockingbird. Guys. This. Book. I know it's cheesy to gush over a renown classic as if I'm the first one in to pick it up off of the shelf and crack it open...but still, I feel the need to express my love for such a legacy in literature.
With that said, life been accompanied by my constant grumblings about the math and history I have yet to complete. I hate the way general work and responsibility saps at you until you feel too weak to do anything but lull out on the carpet alongside a pile of dirty clothes and feel sorry for yourself.

 Anyway.

Apart from the grumbling and dirty clothes, I've been having various calendar events to dance my way through, including graduations, gatherings, and pool parties. The kind that you need to remember to take your phone out of your pocket for.

Sometimes instead of recording my thoughts and peculiarities from my head onto my blog I wish that I could just hook a cable to my brain and download my memories into neat little folders that could be arranged inside of my PC. Instead I have to work up the motivations to decrypt my own thought process and word it into a legible form of storytelling.

I have California plans.
Which sounds vague and mysterious and exciting, but it really just means that I'm going to build houses for people on the west coast. Also, there is a 72% chance of a death-by-being-devoured-by-a-Kracken during my oceanic seaside surfing ventures soon to come.

Apart from these assorted excitements, I have little else to inform you, my dear Internet void.

I sleep late, I think long, and I watch as my little piece of reality morphs and changes in the way it was always meant to.

     until another writerly kick in the pants,
         Kismint

Lead & Paper

Doodly-dooing.

If I sit in the dark long enough, will my thoughts be personified by shade and shadow? Will they crawl up the walls like manic creepy crawlies, invading my forsaken homestead and overpowering whatever sanity took place beforehand? Do my thoughts deserve a heart beat? Will they breath on their own?

 

I am a precious kind of ordinary.

Meeting Again

Summer, you've reminded me how to love.

I'm falling for the way sunlight still tickles my eyeballs at 7:00 PM. I hold an absurd affection for the hot pool deck against my worn little feet. And I'm enchanted by your budding promises of ice cream sundaes and water balloon fights.

Yes, Summer, I'm welcoming you. And I hope you're excited to see me, too. I'll bet that you have plenty of new growing experiances in store for me, and I can't help but be a little nervous about them.

And when the sun begins to set earlier, the weather begins to chill, and Starbucks returns to their season of pumpkin spice lattes, I'll look back on the memories we made together, and you'll kiss me a warm goodbye, bidding farewell until your next return.

Oh Summer, I can't wait.
We've got a lot to catch up on.

in my head

let's fall in love and eat cold pizza for breakfast every weekday of our lives.
  let's go somewhere where the grass is green, the trees are leafy, and the scent of caramel lattes tantalizes our taste buds. you can read me random pages from your favorite book and i'll teach you to memorize the eternal digits of pi. we can write songs about changing seasons and the way it feels to walk barefoot in the springtime. and i'll take pictures in my mind. and you'll take pictures with your phone. and we'll argue over how classy black and white is and whether or not indie music even belongs to a genre. you'll try to impress me with your cheesy Popsicle stick jokes, and i'll continue to groan over them until you finally give up and start trying me with riddles instead.
  and at night was can top the bridge that spans the highway, and cross our eyes to blur the traffic beneath us. every headlight will become a shooting star, whizzing down Main beneath the city sky.

it sounds like paradise.

but paradise is only fantasy.

which is why you only exist

                                    in my head.

Living in Lime

Spring means sniffing the air and feeling burning pollen being siphoned in and out your lungs. Spring means waking up that much earlier every morning because the sun decided he should be more active now that this whole daylight savings time has switched over again. Spring means shorts and tank tops and relearning what it's like to sweat all day long because you're just *that* stubborn and can't bring yourself to crank on the AC.
Spring means green pools.
Green leaves.
And yellow streets.

We're living in lime.

But what is green without yellow? And what would poor yellow do without green? They belong with each other, like peas in a pod and corn on the cob.

Springtime is when I remember what it's like to be excited for new things. There's so much newness. Some if it's mildly frightening and some of it's downright terrifying. But when I look back at all the scary new things in my life, I've started to realize that they've become normal, not-scary old things. And I'm glad for them.

What's a year without spring?
What's a life without newness?

So while you all enjoy sitting back and enjoying nice springness with your dainty little glasses of iced tea, I'll be sitting on my bedroom floor trying to accept the fact that I'm being broiled alive. And while I'm doing that, I'll be thinking really deep metaphorical things about more lifey things to blog about.

Because sometimes we all need to take a moment to be deep and metaphorical. It's good for the soul.

A Synopsis

The Winter Soldier: a synopsis by Kismint Plinkadink

Captain America is at it again in this 2 hour and 30 minute trailer for the next Marvel movie. This time, he doesn't know who he can trust. His best mate is now a brain washed ninety year old who happens to randomly be programed to murder him. On top of that, the shady, super secretive, ultra-security spy agency that builds mega weapons and hires the world's deadliest assassins to do their dirty work turns out to be *gasp* NOT ALL THAT IT SEEMS. Join the Cap as he gets things blown up, gets innocent bystanders shot, and dramatically inserts USB flashdrives and SD cards into miscellaneous computer devices.

Starring: 

Steve Rodger's muscle shirts

Amy Pond

Mace Windu

A guy who conveniently happens to own a winged jetpack

Edward Elric

That girl from How I Met Your Mother

 and Donald Trump

 

 

I was going to write a review, but I'll leave it at this for tonight. ;)

 WARNING: by reading this you are subjecting yourself to SPOILERS. Lot of them. And very juicy ones. All concerning Marvel movies. THESE SPOILERS WILL NOT BE FOREWARNED. THEY COULD JUMP OUT AT YOU AT ANY MOMENT AND EAT OUT YOUR SOUL. Proceed with *extreme* caution.


I saw Captain America today.

This is a review. Complete with gifs. 

Is it just me, or has NO ONE in the cast of any of Marvel's movies died? Sure, there have been plENty of fake deaths, but aliens have attacked, almighty terrorists have arisen...and yet all of our beloved friends from the good ol' Marvel gang are still around to throw a few more punches (and earn the franchise a few million more dollars). Perhaps I'm missing someone. But I doubt it. This whole I-died-but-wait-it's-just-a-cover-thing has me really discouraged. And don't even get me started on Coulson.
Sure, the entire fandom is happy that ((oh surprise)) he's still alive and well (and also heading a random spinoff TV show, no less). But once is enough. Both Thor 2: The Dark World and Winter Soldier have pulled unacceptably silly amounts of Coulsons.

 

  

So that became an ongoing annoyance. 

Maybe I'm just too used to Moffat's story telling style...because seriously, I was hoping for a few traumatic deaths that would leave me heartbroken. But nope.

 When going to superhero movies, one must always prepare for excessive explosions. There were plenty of those. I only wish that there might have been a more moving impulsion of character behind said explosions. I really had a hard time caring about the characters when all they did was chase each other around while playing dodgeball with hand grenades. 

However, in all fairness, we do get to see some nice development on behalf of Black Widow/Agent Romanoff. Which was nice...but seriously, does she like, suddenly possess a magical hair straightener? When does she even have time to do her hair? Or shop for trendy, top dollar outfits to wear while saving the world with miniture tasers.

But Steve Rodgers *does* maintain his rich historical background. I especially enjoyed his moments of reflection to his life prior to being dug out of preservation. Romanoff's attempts to find him a date was a good bit of comic relief. And a favorite scene of mine was the "would you trust me to save your life the way you saved mine" part. The whole story was saturated with compromises and trust issues, and it was nice to see that Steve had allies, despite the return of Hydra.

Speaking of, the Hydra people were alright. 

Which leads us to Bucky. 

Oh Bucky. 

You could have been great. You could have been the most vibrant vilian of them all. 

BUT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD.

FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, LOKI ALREADY PLAYED THAT TRICK LIKE...THREE TIMES ALREADY. 

 

Captain America is at it again, and this time, he doesn't know who he can trust. His best friend who is brain washed and ninety years old who happens to be programed to murder him. On top of that, the shady, super secretive, ultra security agency that builds mega weapons and hires the world's deadliest assassins to do their dirty work turns out to be *gasp* evil. Join the Cap as he gets things blown up, gets innocent bystanders shot, and dramatically inserts USB flashdrives and SD cards into miscellaneous computer devices.

Starring: 

Steve Rodger's muscle shirts

Amy Pond

Mace Windu

A guy who just happens to own a winged jetpack

Edward Elric

That girl from How I Met Your Mother

 and Donald Trump

 

Good:
Bucky saves the day moment.
Agent Hill
Bucky/Smeagol
Shield development
Twins
Peggy's scene
Steve/Tasha car scene
Who do you trust? (apartment and "I would now")


Bad:
Nobody dies: Fury, Rom, Steve, Bucky etc...
Steve takes out an entire aircraft singlehandedly...?
Rom's hair
Skirts
Falcon's helicopter plunge
Falcon's wings (cool, but...wha in da werld?)
Thousand foot drops
Camera actions shots

To mention:
Car chase...well done, but really now.
Crossbones
Arnim Zola
Twins/quicksilver and scarlet witch
Bucky = new cap


Alternate ending:  ...

Take Me

We were children.

We used to tie kite strings to our wrists and run up and down the old field at the end of the avenue, thinking that if the wind willed, we could fly. And on the still days, when the branches hung low and silent, we'd spin around in circles until the world was pulled out from beneath our feet. We'd fall to our knees, collapsing with giggles as the earth became a temporary freak of a carousel. Take me back to the grass stains. Back to when we'd spend our evenings in the dirt piles, looking for earthworms. Back to when we'd dance the jitterbug under the sprinklers in my neighbor's front lawn as the plastic flamingo watching our every twist. I want to go back to the time we built a fort with the couch cushions and spilled the paint buckets on the the front porch. I want to feel the way I did when we launched ourselves off the swings in the park with fingers laced together. We both laughed and we both screamed because the sand tore our skin when we landed.
 And we landed hard.

But if you can't take me back, take me forward.

Take me to the future, where we both grow up and pay taxes and eat ramen every night. Take me to the day when you go furniture shopping for your new apartment and you ask me to come along so that together we can jump on all the mattresses at IKEA. You'll think I'm weird for liking the fake cowhide rug and I'll be silently judging you for your obsession with the tacky purple paint color you've grown so terribly fond of. And someday I'll be working and you'll be working and we'll both take a moment to realize how sad it is that there are no longer any scabs on our elbows or scratches on our cheeks. Take me to the moment when I'm by myself in the dark, feeling overwhelmed by a world that is making me feel small. That's when I'll call you up and we'll kill a few nighttime hours talking about our stupid problems. That's when you'll tell me the old stories, the ones about us and our adventures.

The adventures of our childhood.

But please don't take me very much farther into the future. Please not too far ahead. When I'm old and I forget

 what is was

       to be young

              to dream dreams

                     to dance in the sprinklers

        and to jump off of the swings.

Please don't take me into the far future. The future where you leave and I'm left behind. Because I couldn't stand that.

And you'd hate to see me cry.

31st (HD)

The sun is warm.
The grass is cool.
Hello April.
I'm not a fool.

It's beautiful outside.
Goodbye March. We were best of friends.

((yay, it's my guitar debut!! don't mind the squeaking))

Orange

Alive and well in an orange lifeboat
The sea ahead,
to swim,
or float?
Or wonder till the sky turns grey
What might could happen, could I stay.

And in the night I think again
Should I flee and shall I swim?
Do I abandon all I have
To save myself
and those with me
A fragile life
from deadly sea.

But in the dawn
In morning's phase
The gulls observe my foolish ways
Of finding out that in my sleep
I lost myself
Within the deep.

Sleepy Frog Gloop

Whenever I blog I become extremely depressed over how redundant I am.

Today I may have earned a few strange looks from my peers as I told the story of how my friends once turned their pet fire belly frogs into puddles of gloop during our frog dissection in bio. Turns out that the Arizona sun isn't so great for the slimy amphibians. Despite the slime, I've never had a problem with frogs. Or toads. They're cute enough, I guess.

---Although, I'm more of a reptile gal myself.

For most of my short life, I've spent my time being very interested in animals. However, I've never wanted to be a veterinarian or anything smart like that. BUT, I *did* spend countless hours playing the original Zoo Tycoon PC game, and therefore learned more than the average fifth-grader's share of zoology.
...if you thinking I'm joking, I'm not.

I also spent a good handful of my days poking my toes in the dirt and sticking my nose into the secret world of outdoor life. I fed grasshoppers, built biomes for captured lizards, and resurrected honey bees.

Anyway, I like animals. They're kinda similar to people, only more personable. Unless they try to eat you. Then maybe a little less personable.

Including reindeer. 

---although I hear that they smell. 

I have since found WIFI and the lovely wonders of internetdom. Sadly, I spend less and less time digging around for backyard earthworms and more of my time educating myself in the ways of Geometry and YouTube. (both equally important, I'm sure)

Also, sleeping. 

I spend lots of time sleeping. 

I dream a lot of things. It's kind of a hobby of mine. Not exactly lucid dreaming, because lucid dreaming is when you're aware that you're in dream state. Instead, it's more like my brain gives me a plot and I simply get swept along in it. Whenever I wake I can recall the details, but slowly throughout the morning, bits and pieces of my midnight adventures slip away from my memory like little slivers of soap. By the time I go to bed again, I'm left with only a vague emotion or mental picture to cling to the feeling of the previous night's dream. And then it repeats. 

I guess just plain old sleeping without the memory of dreams is too mainstream for my hipster self. 

So I am trying not to be redundant. 

But so far I've told you about bugs and sleep.

And bugs and sleep seem like pretty redundant topics to me. 

I give up.

Just me.

Spring break is over now.

Whee. Every ticking second brings me closer to the day when I grow up and find out that real life doesn't give me a week to enjoy the changing of seasons. Not that there are actually season changes to celebrate. This city is kinda flukey like that.

Sometimes I look at my blog and it makes me want to slap myself. However, I somehow manage to restrain myself from completely obliterating my archives. Part of me is embarrassed by my past self, part of me knows my present self will eventually embarrass my future self, and another part of me just doesn't care enough.

I can't tell you how many times I've thought: when I get really good at blogging and become some sort of mature writerly person---THAT'S when I'll make a serious site and become blogger extraordinaire. The irony is that when you write your work can *always* stand improvement. I'll never be the best I can possibly get to be. Instead I'll forever be learning how to be better. And that peeves me.

Oiy with my internal monologue.

Have you noticed how serious and lifey my recent posts have been? I guess I don't have much to share with you besides random midnight thoughts.

Like me anyway.

I was chillin' with some sprightly young youth today (babysitting, I guess is what it's called), and one of them told me all about her future plans. My head began to swam when I realized that this fifth grader possessed perfectly forethought as to what she might do when she grows up. Sure, her ideas will change and reality might throw her a few curve balls...but still, it made me feel especially (1) old, and (2) indecisive.

That's nice.

But it's all good. Sometimes I'm pretty dang skilled at pretending to know what I'm doing when I seriously have no idea what's going on. I spend about 87% of my life pretending that.
It's weird because I'm one of those people who settles into routine. Once you tell me to switch stuff up, I suddenly turn into a dysfunction writhing muddle of imbecileness until I acquire enough time to catch a new groove. This probably sounds funny to you because I just wrote about learning how change is good for us.

 

 Yay. I've become a walking contradiction.








And now I'm a sleepy walking contradiction.
Goodnight. 

Cappuuccino

Today I played painter and rolled around in dust bunnies and slathered cappuccino on kitchen walls.

I'm not usually very fond of change. Change typically means discomfort. Instinctively, I avoid discomfort. But sometimes change brings about beautiful (and necessary) life advancements.
I'm a thoughtful person, and as I painted today I was thinking about change. I thought of the previous coat of paint that I was covering. I thought about the next coat of paint to come. What color will those walls be in ten years? Or maybe those walls won't even be there.

So many things could change.

   ...but that's the point, isn't it? Without change we'd be boring people living in boring land. And living a boring life is not an aspiration of mine.

So be vibrant. Be you. Don't be intimidated by change. Be bold.
Life is too short to be dull. Life is to temporary to be anyone but who God designed you to be. The gift of life was not intended to be lived with fear; you were called to stand courageous.

And wear funny hats. Because life is also too short to not wear funny hats.

Goodnight all.

March(ing)

Today was a neat day.
{{I've fallen in love with the month of March.}}

I woke early in the morning, and sleepily eyed the sunrays peeking through my window blinds. Encouraged by the welcome morning atmosphere, I snuggled further into my blankets and hit my internal snooze.

That was the beginning, and other things followed.

I
wore a fedora
read scripture
cultivated friendships
laughed & loved
recognized blessings
ate pasteries
jammed out
pondered in the sunshine
opened the window
vacuumed
played soccer football
wrote emails
talked to texas
devoured pizza
folded clothes
packed for an adventure
and then blogged about it.

Today was a neat day. 
Tomorrow will be another.

Come with me?

Focus

((www.kismint.blogspot.com))

I think we learn from experience.

We learn to be positive by experiencing negativity. We learn to win by experiencing losses. We learn to intimidate by experiencing fear.

Every day we grow up a little more, and find that there is more of us to discover. I learn new things everyday. Precious things. Valuable things. Things that make me me.

I'm just a small brain with a little voice, rambling on with non obtrusive mannerisms.

When you were little you observed, and then acted. Now that you are big you act once and then act again. Only the second time you recalculate yourself based off of your previous failures associated with the first action. At least, that's what I do sometimes. I forget to observe. And that can mean all the difference.

Life lessons are fun, aren't they?

I'm also a very sarcastic sort of soul.

When I do observe, I learn more than mere actions could have taught me. When I take a breather and give myself time to think, I am refreshed. I have the notion that the world itself could be refreshed if only it took time to simply let time go by.
Yes, I understand that time has value, but I also understand that taking time off has value too.

And that is what I have learned.

Also, I am learning to focus on this:

³ His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. ⁴ Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature, having escaped the corruption in the world caused by evil desires.
⁵ For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; ⁶ and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; ⁷ and to godliness, mutual affection; and to mutual affection, love. ⁸ For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. ⁹ But whoever does not have them is nearsighted and blind, forgetting that they have been cleansed from their past sins.
¹⁰ Therefore, my brothers and sisters,^[a] make every effort to confirm your calling and election. For if you do these things, you will never stumble, ¹¹ and you will receive a rich welcome into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
  ((from 2 Peter, Chapter 1))

Silence Is An Explosion

I bought a ticket to the symphony last night
I brought my wallet with my subway pass inside
And when I went into the underground
I didn't see the strangers all around
me

I sat there thinking
About how I never take the time of day
To say hello to the strangers
Or listen to their stories

And so in the car I peered
Beneath the ground
We passed another train
Without a sound
And I watched as it caught on fire

Silence is an explosion
Silence is an implosion
of space
Silence in an explosion
Silence is an implosion
of faith

I saw her face in the window
She caught my eye
and smiled
A stranger waved
And for a while
I smiled back
Then watched her burn

I watched the world burn before my
eyes

I bought a ticket to the symphony last night
I brought my wallet with the subway pass inside

But I didn't know
I hadn't heard
I hadn't seen
A subway burn
The way it did
Yesterday night
And when it did
I burned inside.

Silence is an explosion
Silence is an implosion
of space
Silence is an explosion
Silence is an implosion
of faith

((words property of kismint plinkadink))

((photo via pinterest))

Feeling incredibly profound now.
Goodnight.

Love of mine...

         if heaven and hell decide
   that they both are satisfied
       illuminate their "no"s
          on their vacancy signs
       if there's no one besides you
  when your soul embarks
       then i'll follow you into the dark

                               i'll follow you into the dark.
                                               
                                                                    ((death cab for cutie: "i'll follow you into the dark"))

~ ~ ~ 

It rained today. The drought is over.
  ---but seriously, it hasn't rained since November.

 It's funny how things aren't very important to you until they're taken away. You'll never actually know how much someone meant to you until they leave. If it rained every day I wouldn't spend my time gushing about the water droplets lounging on my window panes. But it doesn't rain every day and when it does I feel special and think especially hard and feel especially deep.

That's all.

  Kismint

On The Inconsistencies of Postal Service

You'll be the end of me.
I'll be the end of I.
We'll be the final letters
---The last surviving kind.
Who echo bittersweet
The words of lovers
separated
By spanning of the seas.
Juliet was taken
Abducted by her pride.
To a land beyond the waves.
With tears in every tide.
And Romeo left weeping
Not bold enough was he
To sail the ship of longing
And take then to the sea.
Wherewith their pens of precious steel
Then inked upon my flesh
The "sorry for" and "soon I'll be"
Were sent to bridge the breadth.
Packaged in an envelope
Sealed with great ardour
Kissed with tender touch
Simple scratch I was no more.
For parchment is peculiar.
Plain and blank as snow.
But fell'd into the hands of scribes
A masterpiece we grow.
And so was I, sent from she
To her prince, 'cross the sea
And you was I,
I was you
The lady's reply
Making two.
Twins of scrawling lover's words
Of romance whispered,
Yet never heard.
Still, alive in ears of mankind's type
The softly language of hearts alike.
Alas for destination!
And weep now Mercury
For I did fail my mission
While yours fell incomplete.
The prince went fourth and sent you
By nature, inquiring words
And starving for her answer,
His love to madness turned.
He waited nights in anguish,
For want of a reply
To the letter he had sent her,
Now woe for him denied.
For on my way
From maiden's hands
A storm blew from the Westward lands
The cargo spilled
The crew, storm killed.
With deadly blow the ship did go.
Beneath the sun: we all have died
Beneath the stars: we lie in waves
Beneath the moon: we wave goodbye
For now we dwell in seaman's grave.

And I, the letter, am lost forever.

And so the prince found no reply
To his question
Who's answer was I.

~kismint

Journaling Juices. Because it's Alliteration.

Our good friend January is heading to an end, so it's time for another lifeity life update.

Except I blog about silly, meaningless goobledee goop that goes on in my brain. So life will be addressed in a very vague and smallish sort of way.

That's right people. It's another late night post, wherein I'm sleepy but my journaling juices have their eyes wide open.

Currently...

Listening to: House of Heroes. I'm trying to get into them, but have only breached their most recent album, Cold Hard Want. Also, the usual Death Cab for Cutie, T Swift, and such madness as that.

Writing about: Carbon Dioxide! Not much creative writing has been going on lately. Just lab write ups and essays. I'm really curious to see what my teacher though of my latest in timed essay I turned in. I kinda enjoy getting a prompt and being told to wing it. The heated scribbling of the #2 pencil is somewhat invigorating to my young writerly brain.

Taking pictures of: Sunsets. My friends. Also toilet paper.

Reading: ...well, I'm supposed to be done with Mark Twain's Humorous Sketches and Stories and have started Up from Slavery (forgot author's name...sorry) for history. But not so! Alas, reading is still as slow and stuck as ever. It's not that I don't enjoy Mark Twain (or anyone's writing, for that matter)...it's just that there's more interesting things to do in the eyes of someone so easily distracted as I.

Watching: Avatar: The Last Airbender cartoons---for the billionth time again. Cartoons with great plot progression and artistry! Who can ask for more? Recently watched Captain Phillips, as it has become available via RedBox. Tom Hanks is my hero. Have you seen the movie? What did you think?? ((those filmy production people are mad geniusessss!!)) Also a lot of youtube, including Rhett and Link's Good Mythical Morning (yeah baby!) and miscellaneous music videos that make me really wish I were a part of a band.

Drawing: Nothing lately. Except I'm supposed to draw some pictures to go along with my lab report I'm handing in for tomorrow. Although I got to draw illustrations to a group presentation about Carl the Carbon Molecule. It's kind of sad when bio class becomes your only doodling interval.

Composing: Broken guitar songs! My old guitar with only three strings left has been serving me well. I finally decided on some lyrics for a few of my short and sorryish compositions. I can safely assure you that it sounds much better to me than anyone listening. ;) Also, I was listening to some chiptune genre songs yesterday and I suddenly had a peak of music mixing inspiration. Maybe I'll be revisiting my soundcloud account in the near future.

Feeling: Positive but deep. Does that make sense? I'm thinking hard and I'm thinking deep. But I'm thinking positively too. Thinking becomes feeling for me.

Wanting to: Be more productive. I keep imagining the strange fantasy that I'm wasting too much time on pinterest. What an odd idea.

Waiting for: Rain. Sounds so silly, especially to all you who are getting snowed in. But it's really dry and I'd love a day of rain. Each morning I've been looking up at our sparse cloud cover (just enough to trap in the smog) and mentally shaking my first at it. Precipitation doth inspire me so.

Enjoying: Apples and peanut butter. Sleeping in. Friends who tease me. Wifi connection. 


Cheerio dear friends,
K-Minty

Popsicles

The 2014 North American cold wave was an extreme weather event affecting parts of Canada and the United States east of the Rocky Mountains,^[5] extending as far south as Central Florida,^[6] and Northeastern Mexico
 ...
Both the Midwestern United States and most of Canada had temperatures colder than the North Pole, which had a low of −20 °F (−29 °C), and the South Pole, which had a morning low of −6 °F (−21 °C).
 ...
Heavy snowfall or rainfall occurred on the leading edge of the weather pattern, which travelled all the way from the American Plains and Canadian prairie provinces to the East Coast.  
 ...
 New Jersey had over 10 inches (250 mm) of snow, and schools and government offices closed.^[35]
 ...
The extreme cold weather grounded thousands of flights and seriously affected other forms of transport. Many power companies in the affected areas asked their customers to conserve electricity.
 ...
Several Ontario locations along Lake Ontario and the St. Lawrence Valley experienced cryoseisms or frost quakes.^[46]
 ...
 Three Amtrak trains were stranded overnight on January 6, approximately 80 miles (130 km) west of Chicago, near Mendota, Illinois, due to ice and snowdrifts on the tracks. The 500 passengers were loaded onto buses the next morning for the rest of the trip to Chicago.
 ^...
 Cold air rushing into the Gulf of Mexico behind the front created a Tehuano wind event, with northerly winds from the Bay of Campeche to the Gulf of Tehuantepec in Mexico reaching 41 kn (76 km/h; 47 mph).^[47] Saltillo, in the North-East of the country, registered freezing drizzle and a minimum of −6 °C (21 °F).^[48]
 ...
  During the cold wave, the strain on the power supply left 1,200 customers in Nashville without power, along with around 7,500 customers in Blount County.^[38][60] The Tennessee Emergency Management Agency declared a state of emergency.^[38]
 ...
 In Ohio, schools across the entire state were closed on January 6 and 7, including the state's largest two school districts, Columbus City Schools and Cleveland Metropolitan School District.^[74] The Ohio State University completely shut down on January 6 and 7, delaying the start of the spring semester by two days for the first closure on two consecutive days in 36 years.^[75]
 ...
In Indiana, more than fifty of the state's ninety-two counties, including virtually everywhere north of Indianapolis, closed all roads to all traffic except emergency vehicles. ^[70] 

 {{from Wikipedia's 2014 North American Cold Wave page}}

 ^{...Gosh guys, it's so freezing cold here that I have to put my sweater on my head so that my face doesn't get sunburned. Brrrr, the horror.} 

^{Not wanting to complain, but I'm feeling a little left out.}

Experiments in Color

Whenever I feel like doodling, I typically pick up a piece of scrap paper and a mechanical pencil. Black and white suits me just fine, and I've found that sometimes color can end up taking away from the finish product instead of adding to it. These examples are my exceptions. 

Left: A watercolor/sharpie doodle that I was working on back in August. All of the pictures in this post were taken this evening with my little Fujifilm camera, not scanned in. Because of this, the white balance is *gasp* terrible, therefore, 99% of what appears to be an off-white yellow in actually just plain old white. That said, I think this particular picture looks better on screen then in real life. I just used one of those cheapy snap-open kindergarten watercolor sets that Crayola sells for 99 cents. With that in mind (and with the help of my handy dandy sharpie shading pen), it's really not a  bad little freehand job. 

I was only just realizing how suspiciously similar this drawing/painting is to the other butterflies-emerging-from-jar sketch that I completed (and is currently hosted on my sidebar --->>). 

Center: 

This is an why I sometimes avoid using much color. -_-

I drew this out two nights ago referencing a picture I had found on pinterest. It was a quick, just for fun piece---the kind I like to do before going to bed or when I have some extra time to chill. The weird (and rather repulsive) orange and green and pink that I chose to use could probably be justified when I tell you that all I had to work with was a handful of randomly selected colored pencils. I'm not a big fan or colored pencils. Mechanical pencils? ---yes. Colored pencils...not entirely so. Probably has to do with the fact that you can't erase properly with them. If that's the case, I'd rather use crayolas or sharpie pens. 

Nevertheless, I figured it was worth posting, even if only as a less-then-proud-of example.

 Right: 

Ooh, I'm rather proud of this one. 

It started out as a dingy freehand sketch of a butterfly with a green gel pen, and then morphed into a pen/watercolor/sharpie word art graphic. This was when I discovered that you can use water to blend really soppy gel pen ink. And that was exciting. Also worked a little more on the spatter and splash effect obtainable with watercolors (again, this was with one of those little fake, eight-color sets).

The words are, of course, borrowed from the Gungor song, Beautiful Things. 

I have a lot to learn when it comes to word art, hand lettering, and typography. I think it would be really cool to get better at that stuff...but it requires so much plotting out before putting pen to page. *cue wail of impatience*

 So waddya think?

But wait---I have one more. This one is a little different. 

Yes indeed, I was crazy enough to draw this particular masterpiece on what was once a roll of packing paper. Like the kind you might wrap up a package for the mail. Or, in my case, the kind this random thrift shop wrapped my new shirt in before bagging it. 

For most people, the crinkles might be a turn off.

And after attempting this, I totally understand that now. 

Nevertheless, I completed my crayola/sharpie masterpiece, and I suppose I can take pride in it's unique texture.

It was all freehand, and I had no references...or ideas about what I wanted the finished result to look like. I just started drawing flowers with a pink crayon, and then...*POOF* ---a fairy hiding from a fingerless gloved hand was born! 

Again, I'm usually squeamish about using so much color (especially such pastel pinks, purples, teals, and greens), but I shrugged down my hesitation and tried to slap as much on as I could stand. And I like it. Each mistake I made merely encouraged me to layer more and more color on it to cover it up. 

Unfortunately, the fairy dewd suffered especially hard in the layering of color phase. :/

---But it's alright, he made it. And with the help of my sharpie pen (again) the whole picture was brought into clearer definition. :)

 

 (Someday maybe I'll get my scanner to bend to my wishes so that I can have high-quality images of my work instead of silly looking photosnaps.)

 The end. 

Cheerio, 

K-Minty

Asleep and Unassuming

Her eyelashes flutter 
As she sleeps, far from restless, in the grass
Alone, but hardly lonely
A lack of color in her face
A lack of pain in the complexion
The picture of peace
The picture of contentment
Asleep, unawares
But still to be woken
Still to be burned
Still to be imperfect, one among many
But for now
In the grass
On her own
She is at rest.

Thumbs Up

Another doodle project. I still needa buy me a stylus and tablet. Right now I'm still doing digital drawings with just a laptop mousepad thingy. Also need to learn how to set up my printer/scanner.
humph.

I wish I could rap. Or just sing really fast without getting all tongue tied. I'm listening to Twenty One Pilots right now and I'm jealous of all the epic talent.
Grr.
Anyone else find it highly amusing that Ed Sheeran got to write a song for the credits of the new Hobbit movie? Heheh. That was sumthin'.
---the song...not the movie. The movie itself was something else altogether that I don't want to dive into yet. Catching Fire was good too. In fact, it was better. I really can't see how anyone who liked the book could dislike the movie. And that's not something I say very much.
As I'm sure you've already heard e explain, I like to watch the movie before reading the book. It helps me visualize and be able to enjoy both. But in the case of Catching Fire, that didn't exactly happen. I was a little nervous because this book became a fast favorite and I knew what I was expecting and wanted to see in the film adaption of it.
And it was BEEEEAAUUUUUTIFULLLLLLLLLL... *skips of into the sunset singing*

I couldn't help by roll my eyes a teensy weensy bit when the (oldish) ladies sitting next to me sighed at the end and whined: "Woww, waita leave it open for a sequel!"

-_-  

wut.

YOU OBVIOUSLY DIDN'T READ THE BOOK(S).
^^was the first thing that entered my head. Which is weird because I'm not usually "that person" who accuses others of not being hardcore enough. But I became that person! And so I was just sitting there listening to Coldplay sing their new song and watching the credits roll by thinking:

I guess I'm officially and publicly hardcore now.
I've also officially and publicly announced the fact that I am a Dark Night Trilogy hardcore-ist.

aaaaaAAAAAaahhHHHhhhHHHHHHHhhhHHhhhh.

Such great story progression! And this isn't a car! And death by exile! And Alfred! And officer Blake! Adsjfdkslsfd!

So yeah guys. Batman. Two thumbs up.

K-Minty

Aimless Oddities

It's January and I've hardly given you a proper hello. I don't know if anything I say tonight will make sense, but I'll give it a shot anyway. New Year's greetings aside, there is plenty to blog down, and a great lackage of will to do so. I am a very wordy person, and I often wonder if I lose my readers in my lopsided direction of thought. When it comes to communication, getting from point "A" to point "B" is hard for a singularly complicated person such as myself. But I like to write to you. Writing is something I doubt I shall ever give up, though I may avoid it to some extension.

There is something very familiar and comforting about the way the keys feel beneath my fingers, and I revel in familiar things.
You see, a lot has happened, and a lot will happen still. Most of which I only care to hint at and do not care to elaborate upon. But I've been doing a bit of reflecting and I've decided that there is an surprising amount of meaningfulness to be found in our lives as well as the lives of others. Over the past month or so I've drawn many half sided and hardly baked connections and realized just how cleaver God is.
Oh God is so good. The real God. The Everlasting God. The God who gives and takes away, never ceases, and overpowers all else. The God who I believe in.

___

I used to write more often. I used to talk about the way things made me feel, but I know that I'm being watched and overhead, so I made up words and coined my own phrases. I guess I still do, but I just pretend like I don't know what I"m doing and since nobody else does, none of them realize. I am clueless. But it's not a bad kind of clueless. Just a funny kind. The way it's funny how some people enjoy being surprised, and others loathe it. I don't know why I think about these kinds of things, but I do. It's...y'know..."the way I are and the you is". So I'll keep thinking this way, especially as I sleepwalk into the land of life as we know it. 
 ___

Joy comes from God. I don't know why exactly, but I have always been an incredibly joyful child. Somehow I find it easy to laugh and I never learned how to lie about the falsity of my smile. My smile is real, and so is the peace I've found in knowing that God knows better than I do. I wish other people could find out how nice it is to know that they are not in control. They'd be a lot happier.

I kind of feel like this is all serious sounding. I didn't mean it to be, but it's okay to be serious. Especially when you need to be. I guess I'm just rambling now though...and tonight that's exactly what I feel like doing.

Tonight our little toy hockey league kicked up again. My friends and I had immeasurable counts of fun by competing our brains out and whacking each other with sticks. This will be an every-Sunday-night-thing for a couple of weeks, and I'm glad for that.
I'm learning more and more what a blessing it is to like being around people, and to be comfortable being around people.
I'm liking my outside classes that I'm taking this year. Not merely because I rock out in essay and skool in bio, but also because I genuinely enjoy chilling with people.
---I mean, please don't take away my "me time" after listening to me say that. But I'm finding a deep sense of value in both time alone and time with others. I think there's a healthy balance, and the older I get (ha.) the more important balancing social stuffs becomes. I still live under a rock, but soon somebody will poke a stick down my hole and I'll be forced to crawl out into the big wide bright sunny world.
But it's all good because I can manage transitions.

Another funny thing I've been observing lately is how dearly I hold fast to fictional characters and made up stories when under stress. I think a lot of people read books in order to escape to a new world, and I think I sailed under that bandwagon ship a long long time ago. I love fiction more and more because I'm finally learning how hearing stories about dragons being bested can inspire us to defeat our own dragons.

Music encourages me too. And it keeps coming back to me how odd it is that a song can become a sort of "life bookmark". There will forever be those songs that will instantly remind you and I of the very first time we latched on to the melody. I find it very nostalgic, and maybe even a little bit dangerous. I don't believe that dwelling on the past makes for a good future,, and yet I like the sad feeling that I get whenever I listen to an old favorite tune. But in the wise words of dear Sally Sparrow:  "Sad is happy for deep people."
Do you think I'm deep? Sometimes I feel like I'm just pretending to be. I'm probably only deep on the internet. Real life is always a completely different matter altogether, and deepness if very much more subjective.

It's getting later and later now. It's strange, but I can't help feeling that tonight is a little different...a little wonky...for some reason I keep thinking that I hear wind rushing out my window. That hardly ever happens at night, but I wish it did so more often.
Oh Wind. You and I are friends. Soulmates, even. 
But more on that some other time.

For tonight, I regret that I must bid adieu to all. Please have a good week, and come back to me with some witty remarkabolism. I sometimes appreciate those.

Kismint

1 Peter 1

1 Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ,

To God’s elect, exiles scattered throughout the provinces of Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia and Bithynia, ² who have been chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, to be obedient to Jesus Christ and sprinkled with his blood:

Grace and peace be yours in abundance.

Praise to God for a Living Hope

³ Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, ⁴ and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, ⁵ who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. ⁶ In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. ⁷ These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. ⁸ Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, ⁹ for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.
¹⁰ Concerning this salvation, the prophets, who spoke of the grace that was to come to you, searched intently and with the greatest care, ¹¹ trying to find out the time and circumstances to which the Spirit of Christ in them was pointing when he predicted the sufferings of the Messiah and the glories that would follow. ¹² It was revealed to them that they were not serving themselves but you, when they spoke of the things that have now been told you by those who have preached the gospel to you by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven. Even angels long to look into these things.

Be Holy

¹³ Therefore, with minds that are alert and fully sober, set your hope on the grace to be brought to you when Jesus Christ is revealed at his coming. ¹⁴ As obedient children, do not conform to the evil desires you had when you lived in ignorance. ¹⁵ But just as he who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do; ¹⁶ for it is written: “Be holy, because I am holy.”^[a]
17 Since you call on a Father who judges each person’s work impartially, live out your time as foreigners here in reverent fear. ¹⁸ For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your ancestors, ¹⁹ but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect. ²⁰ He was chosen before the creation of the world, but was revealed in these last times for your sake. ²¹ Through him you believe in God, who raised him from the dead and glorified him, and so your faith and hope are in God.
²² Now that you have purified yourselves by obeying the truth so that you have sincere love for each other, love one another deeply, from the heart.^{[b] 23} For you have been born again, not of perishable seed, but of imperishable, through the living and enduring word of God. ²⁴ For,

“All people are like grass,
    and all their glory is like the flowers of the field;
the grass withers and the flowers fall,
²⁵     but the word of the Lord endures forever.”^[c]

And this is the word that was preached to you.

----

the girl in the sandbox, free from her cares

played without worry, the sun in her hair

with twigs and white flowers in braids twisted askew

and eyes sparkling with delight in her life now anew

a young thing, a spirit, now singing in peace

with a voice that spoke gently and by tenderness increased

the goodness and kindness, easily found

in the girl in the sandbox, whose loveliness abounds

a grey-haired queen, fair beyond measure
was the girl in the sandbox who's heart was a treasure
she touched many lives, was endeared by large and small
and even to final breath was most beautiful of all

though grimness and grief might stain a sore spot

in the heart stings of beloved, and to those whom she brought

great happiness and grace, warmness and love

and now these reign down with her smiles from above

----



One last smile to fade from reality
A whisper of love, a shattered tear
A tender voice, a fleeting moment
A saturation


If love were an ocean

Can you tell me why you have been so sad?
Because things we done, things we've had
They're different no

So many things we ought to say
In grief we fade and fall away
And find that

♫...So everybody put your best suit and dress on...♪

There'd be no distance that could hold us back.