Wow, 3 days in a row. And this is not the first thing I have written today! Yes, I have started my first story in the Story Spinner category. It may or may not be published today...it all depends on how my night goes. Even though it's only been three days that I have been doing this, I can already feel the difference. My mind is constantly searching for something to write about. I still have a long way to go, thiugh. I need to get into the habit of documenting my thiughts, no matter how random. There's an app for that, and I plan on using it. I fully understand that this is a long process, and I am trying to be patient. I don't want to get to the point where I give up. I was almost there, and I was not happy. Writing is in my blood, but I need the food to let it flow. I love words, I love telling a story. It doesn't matter at this point who I am telling the story to, as long as I tell it. Someday, it might get read. Yes, after 3 days of this, I am feeling good. And I like it.
FF
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Monday, April 9, 2012
April 9, 2012
Today is definitely a day that I have to force myself to write. At one point I really wanted to write…I had some ideas and I felt inspired. Not that I was about to pen the next best seller, but I definitely had something. Unfortunately, I was driving. And it is kind of illegal to write a novel whilst driving. And by the time I got a chance to write, the feeling was gone. But I promised myself I would put words on paper every day. And I did. I’m not proud of this entry, but I am proud that this is day 2 of writing. Sooner or later I will write something cool. Whether it be fan fiction, or just another ‘epic’ article, or maybe a glimpse into a book idea…I will write it. Just waiting for the inspiration. But I don’t think trying to write in the middle of watching WWE Raw is a great idea. Maybe I should listen to Phantom. That just might work.
FF
FF
Sunday, April 8, 2012
April 8, 2012
Every day I have to write something. Even if I don’t feel like writing, I have to put something on paper. Lately I have been lazy. For quite a while I have been un-inspired. I believe that laziness led to me not having the words to write, I did not have a story to tell. And so, I take some advice that I have read in a few different places. Write. Write poorly, write a little, write a lot. Make sense or babble. But write. That is where the inspiration will come from. As I write, I will find something to write about. If I don’t write, the words will say nothing because there will be no words. And without words, my craft will dwindle to nothing. Don't write for anyone but me. If someone reads this then great. But this part of the journey is mine, and mine alone. Not bad for a first entry. See you tomorrow.
FF
FF
A Letter from the Unborn
I did not write this, and I take no credit for it at all. But I do share it.
Month One
Mommy
I am only eight inches long
but I have all my organs.
I love the sound of your voice.
Every time I hear it
I wave my arms and legs.
The sound of your heartbeat
is my favorite lullaby.
Month Two
Mommy
today I learned how to suck my thumb.
If you could see me
You could definitely tell that I am a baby.
I'm not big enough to survive outside my home though.
It's so warm and nice in here.
Month Three
You know what Mommy?
I'm a boy!!
I hope that makes you happy.
I always want you to be happy.
I don't like it when you cry.
You sound so sad.
It makes me sad too
and I cry with you even though
you can't hear me.
Month Four
Mommy
My hair is starting to grow.
It is very short and fine
but I will have a lot of it.
I spend a lot of my time exercising.
I can curl my head and curl my fingers and toes
and stretch my arms and legs
I am becoming quite good at it too.
Month Five
You went to the doctor today.
Mommy, he lied to you.
He said that I'm not a baby.
I am a baby Mommy, your baby.
I think and feel.
Mommy, whats ambortion?
Month Six
I can hear that doctor again.
I don't like him.
He seems cold and heartless.
Something is intruding my home.
The doctor called it a needle.
Mommy, what is it? It burns!
Please make him stop!
I cant get away from it!
Mommy! HELP ME!
Month Seven
Mommy
I am OK.
I am in Jesus' arms.
He is holding me.
He told me about abortion.
Mommy, why didn't you want me?
Every abortion is just...
One more heart that was stopped
Two more eyes that will never see
Two more hands that will never touch
Two more legs that will never run
One more mouth that will never speak.
Abortion is wrong. People are here on earth for a reason, and some mothers don’t want their babies.
If you are against abortion copy and paste!!
Month One
Mommy
I am only eight inches long
but I have all my organs.
I love the sound of your voice.
Every time I hear it
I wave my arms and legs.
The sound of your heartbeat
is my favorite lullaby.
Month Two
Mommy
today I learned how to suck my thumb.
If you could see me
You could definitely tell that I am a baby.
I'm not big enough to survive outside my home though.
It's so warm and nice in here.
Month Three
You know what Mommy?
I'm a boy!!
I hope that makes you happy.
I always want you to be happy.
I don't like it when you cry.
You sound so sad.
It makes me sad too
and I cry with you even though
you can't hear me.
Month Four
Mommy
My hair is starting to grow.
It is very short and fine
but I will have a lot of it.
I spend a lot of my time exercising.
I can curl my head and curl my fingers and toes
and stretch my arms and legs
I am becoming quite good at it too.
Month Five
You went to the doctor today.
Mommy, he lied to you.
He said that I'm not a baby.
I am a baby Mommy, your baby.
I think and feel.
Mommy, whats ambortion?
Month Six
I can hear that doctor again.
I don't like him.
He seems cold and heartless.
Something is intruding my home.
The doctor called it a needle.
Mommy, what is it? It burns!
Please make him stop!
I cant get away from it!
Mommy! HELP ME!
Month Seven
Mommy
I am OK.
I am in Jesus' arms.
He is holding me.
He told me about abortion.
Mommy, why didn't you want me?
Every abortion is just...
One more heart that was stopped
Two more eyes that will never see
Two more hands that will never touch
Two more legs that will never run
One more mouth that will never speak.
Abortion is wrong. People are here on earth for a reason, and some mothers don’t want their babies.
If you are against abortion copy and paste!!
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Music of the Night
Good afternoon, dear reader
You may or may not have noticed my 'sudden' infatuation with music. Or, more correctly, with The Phantom of the Opera. Very seldom am I moved by music, but this is one piece that gets me every time. And by 'moved', I mean inspired. Yes, dear reader, listening to and watching the musical does me good. It gets my creative juices flowing. And so, today I want to share with you a little part of the journey that I take when I hear the music of the night.
"Lot 665, then ladies and gentlemen". On the original London cast recording, this is where the journey begins. In other productions, it may start with a different lot, but that is sort of irrelevant. Yes dear reader, at those very words, I am transported to an auction in old France. I can feel the emotion in the voice of the Viscomte de Chagny as he looks upon the musical box in the shape of a barrel organ with the figure of a monkey dressed in Persian robes (still in working order!). I can feel his pain as he remembers his love. I am in pain with him.
But alas, dear reader, that is merely the beginning of the journey. Truly it is the next lot in the auction that really makes one feel alive...lot 666 then. Ah the very chandelier that figures in the famous disaster. After a brief description as to what the electricians have done to it (wiring it for the new electric light), we are transported even further back in time...it is at this time that my goose bumps have goose bumps, and the shivers going down my spine are shivering themselves. For now, dear reader, we are introduced to the panic and fear when he appears, or seems to appear. I have lump in my throat, dear reader.
At this point, I can feel a noticeable difference between listening to the score, and watching the full production. I have done both. I first heard the Phantom in the late '80s. My brother had seen it in the Pantages Theatre in Toronto, and he brought back with him the cd, to which he introduced me. And that was the beginning of my love for this brilliantly designed piece. Roughly 8 years later, I saw The Phantom live, in San Francisco. Time has erased many memories of it, but I do remember the chandelier falling...by far the best I've seen. And I remember the awe I felt as I tried to see what was going on from way up in the nosebleed section. It was magical.
Then on September 14, 2006 I saw it again, this time in Edmonton. This time Dianne and I were in the center of the stage, 8 rows back. We were close enough to see the sweat of the performers. We could hear and see things that I simply didn't remember from San Francisco. My love was re-kindled, and I really wanted more. Seeing the production again, however, was not meant to be. Until recently.
Channel surfing is a wonderful thing, and it is because of browsing tendencies that I saw an airing of The Phantom on KSPS. And it was not just any old performance. No, dear reader, this was the 25th anniversary gala performed in the Royal Albert Hall in London. This was magical. I can only imagine what the atmosphere must have been like that night. Naturally, I PVR'd this broadcast in high definition. And, as a self-professed junkie would do...I have watched the performance a couple times now.
I have had the pleasure of seeing 3 different Phantoms now, and Ramin Karimloo (a good Canadian lad!!) in my mind is the best I have ever seen. I have not been fortunate enough to see Michael Crawford or Colm Wilkinson, so I cannot compare. But the sheer passion that Ramin brings to the role is astounding. He embodies everything that the Phantom means to me. I almost feel his madness, his confusion. Listening to and watching this translation of the mad musician makes me feel as if I am wearing the mask. His pain, his love is real. And so is the evil that lurks inside. Is he a man or a monster? I dare say that he is both.
And then there is Christine Daae. Again, 3 different interpretations of this role, and 3 very different emotions. Maybe it is the length of time between me seeing each performance, but the most recent one is clearly head and shoulders above the rest. I don't and can't compare her to Sarah Brightman (the original Christine), for I have not witnessed that performance. But I have to say that Miss Sierra Boggess has turned in a marvelous piece of work. Watching her bring Christine to life is something I will never forget. So convincing and real was she that I hung on her every breath, her every emotion. I believed every tear, every plea, and every profession of love...yes each kiss was not a seemingly brief screen kiss, but a kiss of love.
Yes, dear reader, I am a fan of The Phantom of the Opera. Near the end, as Raoul was hanging from the magical lasso (he forgot to keep his hand at eye level!), I was hurting. But I didn't hurt because the young Viscomte was in dire trouble...no, I hurt because the mad genius who only wanted love was being tormented by a decision he had to make. And I hurt because the one person who could save him from the destruction of his own mind could not love him as he wanted.
Yes, as Ramin and Sierra and Hadley Fraser (Raoul) played out these closing moments, I felt a rush in my very being that I don't think could ever be matched. I felt the pain of love that all 3 actors portrayed so well. I felt it, dear reader. And at that very moment as the Phantom disappears behind his cloak, I was transported to very spot where only his mask lies on the chair. I was there with Meg Giry as she picked up the mask. I was there, dear reader, wondering if ever again I would hear the music of the night. And then I realized that yes I will hear it...in my head, in my very being. Music moves me, dear reader. It inspires me. And when the Angel of Music is played around me, I will always now associate the sweet sounds with Ramin and Sierra. I thank you both...the music of the night has never sounded quite like that.
FF
You may or may not have noticed my 'sudden' infatuation with music. Or, more correctly, with The Phantom of the Opera. Very seldom am I moved by music, but this is one piece that gets me every time. And by 'moved', I mean inspired. Yes, dear reader, listening to and watching the musical does me good. It gets my creative juices flowing. And so, today I want to share with you a little part of the journey that I take when I hear the music of the night.
"Lot 665, then ladies and gentlemen". On the original London cast recording, this is where the journey begins. In other productions, it may start with a different lot, but that is sort of irrelevant. Yes dear reader, at those very words, I am transported to an auction in old France. I can feel the emotion in the voice of the Viscomte de Chagny as he looks upon the musical box in the shape of a barrel organ with the figure of a monkey dressed in Persian robes (still in working order!). I can feel his pain as he remembers his love. I am in pain with him.
But alas, dear reader, that is merely the beginning of the journey. Truly it is the next lot in the auction that really makes one feel alive...lot 666 then. Ah the very chandelier that figures in the famous disaster. After a brief description as to what the electricians have done to it (wiring it for the new electric light), we are transported even further back in time...it is at this time that my goose bumps have goose bumps, and the shivers going down my spine are shivering themselves. For now, dear reader, we are introduced to the panic and fear when he appears, or seems to appear. I have lump in my throat, dear reader.
At this point, I can feel a noticeable difference between listening to the score, and watching the full production. I have done both. I first heard the Phantom in the late '80s. My brother had seen it in the Pantages Theatre in Toronto, and he brought back with him the cd, to which he introduced me. And that was the beginning of my love for this brilliantly designed piece. Roughly 8 years later, I saw The Phantom live, in San Francisco. Time has erased many memories of it, but I do remember the chandelier falling...by far the best I've seen. And I remember the awe I felt as I tried to see what was going on from way up in the nosebleed section. It was magical.
Then on September 14, 2006 I saw it again, this time in Edmonton. This time Dianne and I were in the center of the stage, 8 rows back. We were close enough to see the sweat of the performers. We could hear and see things that I simply didn't remember from San Francisco. My love was re-kindled, and I really wanted more. Seeing the production again, however, was not meant to be. Until recently.
Channel surfing is a wonderful thing, and it is because of browsing tendencies that I saw an airing of The Phantom on KSPS. And it was not just any old performance. No, dear reader, this was the 25th anniversary gala performed in the Royal Albert Hall in London. This was magical. I can only imagine what the atmosphere must have been like that night. Naturally, I PVR'd this broadcast in high definition. And, as a self-professed junkie would do...I have watched the performance a couple times now.
I have had the pleasure of seeing 3 different Phantoms now, and Ramin Karimloo (a good Canadian lad!!) in my mind is the best I have ever seen. I have not been fortunate enough to see Michael Crawford or Colm Wilkinson, so I cannot compare. But the sheer passion that Ramin brings to the role is astounding. He embodies everything that the Phantom means to me. I almost feel his madness, his confusion. Listening to and watching this translation of the mad musician makes me feel as if I am wearing the mask. His pain, his love is real. And so is the evil that lurks inside. Is he a man or a monster? I dare say that he is both.
And then there is Christine Daae. Again, 3 different interpretations of this role, and 3 very different emotions. Maybe it is the length of time between me seeing each performance, but the most recent one is clearly head and shoulders above the rest. I don't and can't compare her to Sarah Brightman (the original Christine), for I have not witnessed that performance. But I have to say that Miss Sierra Boggess has turned in a marvelous piece of work. Watching her bring Christine to life is something I will never forget. So convincing and real was she that I hung on her every breath, her every emotion. I believed every tear, every plea, and every profession of love...yes each kiss was not a seemingly brief screen kiss, but a kiss of love.
Yes, dear reader, I am a fan of The Phantom of the Opera. Near the end, as Raoul was hanging from the magical lasso (he forgot to keep his hand at eye level!), I was hurting. But I didn't hurt because the young Viscomte was in dire trouble...no, I hurt because the mad genius who only wanted love was being tormented by a decision he had to make. And I hurt because the one person who could save him from the destruction of his own mind could not love him as he wanted.
Yes, as Ramin and Sierra and Hadley Fraser (Raoul) played out these closing moments, I felt a rush in my very being that I don't think could ever be matched. I felt the pain of love that all 3 actors portrayed so well. I felt it, dear reader. And at that very moment as the Phantom disappears behind his cloak, I was transported to very spot where only his mask lies on the chair. I was there with Meg Giry as she picked up the mask. I was there, dear reader, wondering if ever again I would hear the music of the night. And then I realized that yes I will hear it...in my head, in my very being. Music moves me, dear reader. It inspires me. And when the Angel of Music is played around me, I will always now associate the sweet sounds with Ramin and Sierra. I thank you both...the music of the night has never sounded quite like that.
FF
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