Speaking of The Lightning Thief, last week on Friday we went to see the film, after finishing the book the same Saturday I went to see Switchfoot. Oh my gosh. I feel like a twelve-year-old for saying this, but it was awesome. Okay, it wasn't perfect and there's a bucketload of things I would have done differently in the directing of the actors & such and the interpretation of the script even more than the actual adapting process, but still. There were so many parts that I just giggled through, fangirled through, and just geeked out about. I need to really write a review but I feel like I need to see it again to do so, but maybe I should anyway and compare my thoughts after having seen it once to those after having seen it twice. It was a lot of fun and I'm sad that it didn't do too well in the box office. There are far, far worse films than PJO that garner much more money. I do hope they feel that making Sea of Monsters would still be profitable.
In other news, I've been inspired to start work on my recording project. Between my dad who has been recording new music for nearly a year now, faeriemaiden who has been working hard at come_all_ye , and peaceinyou 's worship recordings, I think it's about time I record a small collection of my poetry and maybe a few hymns with only my voice (and maybe some piano sketches alongside them). I need to figure out how to use Audacity first, but I do have so many ideas for things to record that the hardest part may be just gathering material and arranging it the way it ought to be arranged. My car is kind of an awesome place to record since it's private and fairly sound-proof, and I believe my laptop survives for well over an hour while off the charger. I'm not sure if I should release each piece individually like Jo is doing or if I should make an ep. Individually would probably be easier but I love the idea of a collection, since I feel that most of the pieces I'll work on at the beginning will most likely have a common bond. I'd love to hear what you all think about the project and what you'd like to hear. :)
On Friday I am going to a weekend Christian retreat with some girls from my area until Sunday night. I was invited and sponsored by my best friend, and I truly have been wanting to go for some time, but I'm anxious. I've never been away from my parents for longer than a day, and though I will have to someday, I'm not sure if I want it to be this week. I don't want to get out of it because Charissa has been so excited about this for weeks now, and everything has been arranged, and tomorrow we're going to buy my bedsheets and tolietries for the weekend and frankly everyone who has gone through loves it. But It's very secretive because they want it to be a surprise and an experience with few--if any--pre-conceived ideas about what to expect. So I am kind of apprehensive about... being around strangers and not knowing what to expect. I want to be a team-player, but if they put me in a place where I feel uncomfortable or ask me to share something about my personal life I don't feel I need to share, I'll get pretty stubborn. But I do love discussion: being able to share things and listening to other people share things and feel a connection with them even if you don't really know them very well. And the adventure of being at a camp is new to me, and I do love sleeping in odd & unfamiliar places and being homesick and eating homemade food cooked by other people (not that I don't love my mother's cooking, because I do! But it's always interesting to go to a friend's house and eat something they and their mother cooked because you can kind of learn things about people by what they cook for their guests and how they like to prepare it). A lot of my close friends and their parents are serving (you can only go through once, but you can come back and volunteer for other weekends), so I won't be too lonely. I think it will be good. :)
I miss the Olympics. I want to learn to inline skate so I can feel a little like j.r. and Apolo. Theater is getting near maddening anymore, and I wish I could escape somewhere and skate (a bit like "River", really) because it seems freeing in a way, as if you're gliding--almost flying--and nothing can catch you or pin you down, and your sorrows can't really hold onto you anymore. I don't know what to do. I'm thinking about dual-enrolling but I'm still not sure. I think I've thrown the idea of a gap year out because I really don't want to wait that long for college. Currently, once I totally kick these symptoms and get back from VN, I'm going to hit the SAT prep books.
Linford Detweiler's piano music is so nostalgic for me. Something about March of last year was so thickly magical in a very dark sort of way, and I find myself going back to the music I was listening to at that time. There was something so significant about the entire month, though I spent it in a haze of very deep sadness. I think it was significant because it was when I started writing poetry almost every day. Everything pierced me to the core and left me feeling either very warm or very cold, and everything needed to be put into words. I really started listening to Over the Rhine a lot and I bought Fiction Family's album that month, and so all of this music and lyrics were in my head, and I felt abandoned sort of, but everything was full of meaning and I had to respond to it. Everything I saw seemed dark and sacred and candle-lit, and everything I heard seemed like slow piano music, and everything I wore either felt like antique lace or something Karin would wear even though it wasn't. And I can't get back to that. I was right when I blogged about it a year ago. I want to get back to it sometimes, even though it was a hard time. But I had such a strong awareness of things, though I had very little hope and I have a lot more now.
Your prayers would be deeply appreciated for this weekend and the next few months leading up to Fiddler. I do have hope that everything is going to work out and that I'm going to be able to do everything I want and need to do, but sometimes I get a bit apprehensive about things. I love you all, and I will try to be better at updating here! :)
In better news, The Winter Olympics. Okay, I love sports, but never got into them much because I hate the amount of strife that competition causes between people, but the winter olympics never fail to make me want to try ice skating one more time because I love watching it. And speed-skating is by far my favorite olympic sport. The first race that Apolo skated last night was so brilliant. He glided around everyone elegantly and his moves were very well-thought out. And J.R. Celski! He's adorable (and likes indie music and reading interesting books and is modest about his accomplishments so far), but he really is a good skater and he's come really far. I'm not sure if he's skating again this week (Apolo skates on Wednesday I believe, so I'd guess J.R. will skate that night, too), but if he does I hope he has a chance at another medal, this time better than bronze.
I'm trying to take it slowly, day-by-day, reading more and writing and working out my poetry and trying to find a glimmer of something greater as I look to the future. I don't know what's happening or why it's happening or what I should say about it except that I still have hope. And I am living off of that. It could be worse, but it isn't, and it won't be. It will never be worse. And anyway, I have chocolate, lots of it (too much -- well, that's not really possible), and my hold on the next book in the in R. Sutcliff's Eagle of the Ninth series should be in at the library either tomorrow or the next day, and there is always V.N. in March and Fiddler and people. There is always people. And there is always Jesus even when everything is hazy and blurry and bloody and dark and meandering. He is always there. And with Him comes a warm sense of wisdom that fills everything even when I'm struggling to believe. It will get better. I will do everything I've ever wanted to do. I have to, for one reason or another. I mean, I don't have to, but I should.
Happy Valentine's Day. :)
This whole week was campmeeting at church, and we went on all nights except for Monday night and tonight, and we decided not to go to any of the day meetings. I believe these to be the longest meetings I've ever sat through in my life, longer than even campmeeting three years ago. The longest one this week was from about seven until about ten after one in the morning. So about a six hour church service. But the Spirit was there, and we tarried--oh, we tarried--and it was glorious at times. The shaking, weeping people; the laughter; the uproar as suddenly the crowd felt the power of God; the impromtu hymns and songs. It was long, but there were moments were eternity seemed to rest on our shoulders like a covering of morning light, even in the midnight hour. One could not leave; it was too lovely. Church was four hours this morning and I sincerely thought it had been two. I am now ruined with patience for long services. ^-^
Cast is tomorrow. I still feel a shaken about it, like something is not quite right, and that maybe I should be doing something else. But the horror of it is over; the desolate feeling has dulled, though there is still a recognition in me that something is wrong about it. The best is that I can sleep now. I sifted slowly and carefully through every word of campmeeting in order to find something that would bring me peace. I don't know why, but I had the most awful feeling that this was the end of peace for me. That is a lie, but it seemed true even though I knew it was a lie. I spent a long time absolutely plunged into wrestlings with despair. But I grew weary of it. I think I'm at the point now where it doesn't scare me. I have seen what lies in the darkness but the real fear of it has weakened. God is always there, but the more I cry out to Him the more comfort I get.
I don't want to think about Cast right now. There is a feeling in me that something wonderful will happen. My mother has said that she thinks I won't regret it, that in the end it will be a blessing and not a curse. And I have steadied my heart on her words and not on the worry that steals away sleep. And yet I don't want to go through the motions, I must put my whole heart into this. But if I do, I am still aware that there is no going back. The emotional wounds of taking upon yourself someone else's pain, along with your own, are deep and haunting. The echo of your own pleading words in character during practice find you even at the drug store or at church. It has taken days to recover for me in the past. And so I don't want to think about it because it is painful when I act. It is a birthing process of the soul. And I am simply trying to get sleep at night. I have no desire to probe the inner emotions of tormented Russian Jews at two in the morning, and yet, if I'm not careful, I am in Anatevka, weeping, praying, pleading, laughing, singing, all past the midnight hour. Only it is mixed in with despair for myself and my fellow actors because this is going to be the hardest thing we have done. But there should be no despair, not now.
I may once again try my yearly plan of some kind of fast in the summer, where I eat only soup and become a semi-ascetic and read spiritual books constantly. Though I want to be a hobbit, or at least live like one. That is becoming my deepest wish. I would really to just eat simple things and read and write a lot, and not be so plugged into the internet all of the time, and curl my hair a lot more than I do, and dress like a hobbit
boy, because they wear bright-colored waistcoasts with brass buttons, and lovely jackets, and dark-colored trousers. I could eat much too much mushrooms and finally sit down and practice my Tengwar and find some quiet. And then go on some kind of adventure, one which I know not the details of at present. :)
Tomorrow will be wonderful. It's the last time I'll see Collin for three months. We're running the scene where Tzeitel begs Tevye not to make her marry Lazar. It's my favorite of my scenes. :)
I have hope that the sweetness will come back to our little group -- that undeniable bond that made us a family. My mother has been telling me to draw on the anointing. I have tried to before, but now I know it's even more vital if there is to be any sense of peace in the group. We need the Spirit in every corner of Cast, in the folds of our clothing, the sounds of our voices, the tone of the words we speak. I have told Him before I don't want to do this alone. I could -- He has given us all the ability from the womb to do what we wish -- but the way would be difficult and the burden far too heavy. No, I don't want to do this in my own strength.
I feel like I am getting old. Last time I saw the films was only last year, and yet watching the trilogy has caused the heaviest burden of nostalgia I have ever borne. It has been eight years since I saw the first one when I was only nine years old, and yet the days between have seemed like a breath. I went on the forums again, and though it is the same as it has been for the last five and a half years, everything is different. Almost all my friends are gone and no longer come on, and though I am still in contact with them all through Facebook, they are not the same. We are not who we were when we were children, and though we still are children, I am beginning to see and feel the transition into adulthood. It is not a bad thing, but it is something that is causing me much sadness. I can't go back. I don't think I cherished everything as much as I should have. No one ever really warns you that nostalgia will be your greatest sorrow and that you will give everything to go back for a moment. With change we lose things, and though the change may be for the better, the wonderful familiarity of things is lost. Within me has swelled a great heaviness over the past few days, for I am beginning to realise just how much time has passed between the different events of my life that shaped who I am and where in time I am now. I am young, terribly young still, but the year that once seemed a lifetime now seems like a passing day. Lord of the Rings was one of the most wonderful things I ever experienced, and it is sad to think that many of the people involved, especially the actors, have grown older and found it harder to get roles, even the really talented ones. They were like friends to me during the friendless years of my life when everything was strange and awkward. But time has passed; not long enough that I have forgotten anything, but enough that things are different now and cannot be set back to the way they were, and I am constantly trying to fight against time. It does feel natural to me still.
We are going through the coldest front I have ever experienced. I will write more about it later. It's lovely. :)
I saw Sherlock Homes yesterday. Sadly we didn't go to the theater down in the city, but the dancing room was still there across town and the wind was blowing a little and I did feel the magic taste of last December. It felt right. It really is an amazing film. Philippe Rousselot completely outdid himself with the coloring. The skin tone was perfect, especially during the boxing scene, and the dark, dusty buildings of London were both gothic and dreamlike. I think it felt a little more like the cinematography from Constantine, especially the golden skin tones and the use of browns and dark colors, more than it looked like the colorful Big Fish or Willy Wonka. But there is a common thread of depth of vision running through all of Rousselot's films, and Sherlock Holmes I think was the deepest yet. I was sitting there and kept having these moments of, "Rousselot understands how gorgeous skin tones look when they're turned golden and shadowed well instead of flat and pasty." Just shots of Holmes and Watson standing outside talking looked perfect. I loved the parts where Holmes planned out his fight combinations in slow motion because it combined his brilliance with his fighting ability. On the acting side, I really liked Jude Law. He seemed very immersed in his character and very serious about it. Downey looked more like he was having a good time and just flowed with the character and wherever it took him. McAdams was kind of weak and I wish she had been a bit more mysterious instead of cutesy, but I do think Irene was a good character even though she could have had a bit more substance and purpose. The chemistry was pretty weak between Holmes and Adler, but I'm too used to Downey/Paltrow which is really strong. The chemistry between Watson and Holmes seemed to be stronger on Law's side, maybe because Downey was playing Holmes as if he was in this other realm full of deductive possibilities and sort of plugged out of what was going on with other people (though I loved how jealous he was of Watson and Mary; I think he felt that Watson was the only person that bonded him somewhat to the rest of humanity). I probably should write a lengthier review of it. :P But I loved it and it was worth the long wait.I sort of want to dress like a female and more steampunk version of Sherlock now. I need boots (all I have is my hippie boots from Pirates), a more Victorian-waistcoat, and I need a better suit jacket? And my ears pierced? I kind of need a lot. I shop mostly with steampunk in mind but the truth is is that I still need more pieces before I have enough to really be steampunk (but I have a bowler, and a Victorian top, about four good skirts, and appropriate jewelry). We shall see what I can find. :) (Also, yesterday after the movie I went out and bought a big winter coat because it's been getting pretty cold here as of late, and I haven't had heavy coat in many years because I haven't really needed one.)
Re-watched The Fellowship of the Ring over the night before last and last night. I might catch The Two Towers commentary before we go to the service tonight at church. I nearly cried thinking about it again. It remains to me to be the most beautiful of fictional stories. So much agape. I have never seen it that strong in any other work.
So this is it, the last post of the year and of the decade. We shed off years like layers, hoping to find more wisdom beneath than the year before. I wish for all of you that you have a hearty new year, and that the desires of your heart would be granted to you. May the days coming be the boldest, the deepest, the purest. May they be full of truth and full of peace. I hope most of all that you grow in wisdom and the capacity to love without fear and without finite limits. There is darkness, but yea, there is also light.
To 2009. We have wept and laughed and coughed and crawled and ran through you. We have come sputtering to the surface of a sea of darkness to witness the stars above our heads, shining palely at times, but growing in strength to guide us to shore and eventually home. We have drank a cup of bitterness and a cup of holiness and we have overheard the talk of our fellow men as they find a way through the darkened, brackish waters of loss that flood an economy of recession. We have made it this far. I see no reason why 2010 or the next decade should be darker or harder. No, I see only room for goodness to increase and for the hearts of men to bear witness not to pain but to an over-encompassing joy. May I be a prophet, even if only in this.
Happy New Year. :)
Mom and I had to spray my hair grey & white and put it up in a bun because the wig didn't fit at all. Tonight I get the old-lady make-up. I'm going to look so Død Kalm.
That wonderful feeling came back last night. I don't think I felt it during Lady Pirates because I spent most of tech week really agitated over various things, but now for Word I just feel so emotionally fragile in a good way. Miss Teil came up behind me while we were waiting for sound equipment to go up. She kissed me on the cheek and told me I looked just like a little old lady. I don't know why, I guess because of everything that had happened these past two weeks, but I nearly started crying. Those little acts of kindness mean so much to me. I was just wandering about before the show started, talking to everyone and meeting a few new people. Something about the cold weather maybe (it was freezing! well, freezing for Florida), but all I really wanted to do was hug people and curl up next to them. I might have been drawing on that feeling of being a group and a family of actors, but I found a new sort of closeness to everyone. It was too hard not to talk to anyone, so I sat down on the steps in the back of the bandshell and watched two of the younger middle-school boys quietly toss a ball back and forth in the grassy yard. I don't know how long I sat there, just feeling everything from my soul and piecing together what was happening. Before I knew it, someone had sat down next to me, and I realised it was Aaron P. We spoke in whispers for awhile, talking about how good the weather was for a Christmas play and other sundry things. The wind started blowing later and everything was floating around softly in the pull of it. I can't explain it, but I had the most wonderful feeling that everything was right for once, and that even in the small imperfections there is an all-encompassing beauty that is bigger than anything we can see. There is such beauty in the vacancy and bite of the cold.
Everyone looks adorable. Most everyone has coats, scarves, and hats and they look so cosy. Josh cut his hair and everyone thinks it looks fantastic compared to his old, longer style. Jonathan has one of those fur hats with the earflaps on it which actually gets made fun of in the script. :P I love Meagan's outfit for her role as the narrator. I think everyone looks great.
Tonight is the real thing. I have to shower in a half hour and wash out the grey color so we can put it up again. Everyone at youth is having a Christmas party so no one will be coming. :( But Dad is! And Mandy, her husband, and their new baby are coming tomorrow night! :D
I am both anxious (the closer I get to performances, the less I sleep. I stay up late, lying in bed, going over my lines and trying to perfect the feeling) and terribly excited. This is going to be wonderful. ^.^
Besides the play there hasn't been too much happening. Well, just personal things. I really wish I could write about everything, but I wonder how much of it is even edifying in the least and whether or not it's really worth it to expound upon the shadowed things. I am in the middle of a fight--a good fight--and I am growing weary of the uncertainness of everything. My prayer, as it has been always, is for wisdom and knowledge. But even more that God would become so real to me that His light would be unmistakable--a great, glowing sun, even in the night hour, that would cast an all-encompassing light on the subjects at hand. I need guidence more than anything, really.