this life...
I hope my blog does some good. I hope amidst my rantings, someone benefits.
I hope I don't waste words.
I thank the good Lord that I can have such moments where I sit at my PC, with Jimi rocking out from my cute Lansing speakers, as I contemplate life and write. Writing is my art. Like Donna's light installation at the recent TAGS #14 (see tagseries.com), this white screen is my space.
Gosh I feel like such an impressionable teenager. Maybe all artistic types are people who cannot get out of their teens.
I'm beginning to pay attention to the timbre (gosh how do you spell this! Heck!) of the electric guitar on Hendrix's tracks. I remember my old Fender did not sound like that. It was either I did not know how to play with the settings or it was a lousy guitar. Good guitars, I think, have a swollen resonant texture. When played, it reverberates. The sound climaxes. Hmm.
I remember one of my friend had a black Epiphone with mother-of-pearl embedded on its fretboard. It was really beautiful. I was a tender 17-year-old then when I was introduced to such a work of art. What made the experience more dramatic was the owner could produce those complex scales from Led Zeppelin from just reading tabs. This all sounds really dumb now but then, I thought he was close to Deity. Needless to say, I was transfixed on his name for years.
Such is the power of a man with a guitar. It ain't muscles, ain't brains, just mere magic on metal. How unfair! Women have to work so hard. Sigh.
Well, enough with griping about gender imbalances. We don't live in the world anymore. We're part of God's kingdom and where Pa rules, we play by his erm, rules. When we choose our men, we do not look for such shallow standards.
First our man must be godly. The useless-ness of man is not defined by his lack, it is his rebellion against God. Similarly, a woman's worth is measured by her submission to Christ. No person is more attractive than the one who is constantly yielded to the Holy Spirit. There is fragrance, like the Bible says, that brings life to those who know Christ and death to those who don't. (well, something like that) We also know that those who abide in Christ are safer people to hang out with too. At least the risk of falling out of line is lesser.
I've been reckoning with myself lately. As if we never stop doing so. Argh. Lately though it has been rather painful.
I won't say it here cos it is too personal. This is a blog after all.
I hope I don't waste words.
I thank the good Lord that I can have such moments where I sit at my PC, with Jimi rocking out from my cute Lansing speakers, as I contemplate life and write. Writing is my art. Like Donna's light installation at the recent TAGS #14 (see tagseries.com), this white screen is my space.
Gosh I feel like such an impressionable teenager. Maybe all artistic types are people who cannot get out of their teens.
I'm beginning to pay attention to the timbre (gosh how do you spell this! Heck!) of the electric guitar on Hendrix's tracks. I remember my old Fender did not sound like that. It was either I did not know how to play with the settings or it was a lousy guitar. Good guitars, I think, have a swollen resonant texture. When played, it reverberates. The sound climaxes. Hmm.
I remember one of my friend had a black Epiphone with mother-of-pearl embedded on its fretboard. It was really beautiful. I was a tender 17-year-old then when I was introduced to such a work of art. What made the experience more dramatic was the owner could produce those complex scales from Led Zeppelin from just reading tabs. This all sounds really dumb now but then, I thought he was close to Deity. Needless to say, I was transfixed on his name for years.
Such is the power of a man with a guitar. It ain't muscles, ain't brains, just mere magic on metal. How unfair! Women have to work so hard. Sigh.
Well, enough with griping about gender imbalances. We don't live in the world anymore. We're part of God's kingdom and where Pa rules, we play by his erm, rules. When we choose our men, we do not look for such shallow standards.
First our man must be godly. The useless-ness of man is not defined by his lack, it is his rebellion against God. Similarly, a woman's worth is measured by her submission to Christ. No person is more attractive than the one who is constantly yielded to the Holy Spirit. There is fragrance, like the Bible says, that brings life to those who know Christ and death to those who don't. (well, something like that) We also know that those who abide in Christ are safer people to hang out with too. At least the risk of falling out of line is lesser.
I've been reckoning with myself lately. As if we never stop doing so. Argh. Lately though it has been rather painful.
I won't say it here cos it is too personal. This is a blog after all.
posted by Bunny at 12:47 AM
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