"And now we pause for a moment of abstract reflection..."

Those stars shine pretty brightly out there. You were one of them.

All I had to do was flip the switch that said "Skyline" and the night would have glowed finer than that time the moon exploded in our faces. They said to make a wish, but I was so caught up in the moment, I forgot to until it was too late. My chance was gone, and that meteorite dissolved behind the chimney tops. 

For a long time now, the sky has been a sort of obsession to me. I'm afraid of heights, but love the thrill of fear. I could hang up there for hours, climbing on those cumulonimbus' like a boss

Even if I can't see the blue in the sky, I still rejoice in the static charges that flit around, bouncing back and fourth, throwing lightning bolts hither and thither. 

But it's really great at night. That time when everything you never thought would wake up does. Those stars aren't all that visible from where I live, but I still know they're there. The moon is a floodlight, the helicopters fireflies, and those funny little bugs that fly in loopdeedoos around the porch light are the shrapnel of it all. Nighttime is like a fiery explosion of light that stands out at exactly the time you aren't looking noticing.

Here is where

I happen to live.

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