Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Things that have struck me this last week, of differing levels of seriousness:

-Assisting in communion at the last "Beggars Feast" at school meant I got to spend about an hour singing worship songs while holding a bowl of grape juice and serving people. The symbolism really struck me afresh. Really, at times, it was easy to imagine that I was holding a bowl of blood, which disgusting as it sounds, served to really awaken a much deeper appreciation for the blood that was spilled on my behalf.

-While musing on words, I realized that one could get a run in one's stockings while running in one's stockings (or, as anyone who's worn hose knows, doing just about anything...).

-I really hate being sick, and I think it has to do just as much with the fact that I can't control my sickness as the actual discomfort of illness. Congestion while making phone calls at work is just miserable (or rather, congestion while doing anything is just miserable). Singing in choir without being able to breathe through your nose is hysterically tragic.

-As one of my English profs likes to say, "you can hardly throw a rock in the art world without hitting a gay person", and literature is certainly no exception. I'm slowly becoming convinced that nearly every author alive was queer (or at least wrote about it). Possible exceptions might include Dr. Seuss.

-I am highly fascinated by little things, especially in nature. I'm afraid that without this affinity for the mundane, my life would seem rather boring and tedious. Really, I don't get that bored, there's always something or someone interesting to observe.The iridescence of a peacock feather, for instance.


Stephen said...

I hope you get better, even at the expense of hysterical singing experiences. The people who push the bounds of art are often the people who push the bounds of society and culture. They also tend to go to great lengths for "newness" this includes experimenting with sexuality. (I just pulled that out of thin air, maybe it's true...)

I love stopping to looking at plow rows when they are slowly rotting from the sun, with the road dirt consolidating in little piles. The small things are just as beautiful and mind blowing as the big things. (and observing them allows you to be a great detective like Sherlock Holmes)

Lucie said...

Heh, the bit about the art world is good. WELCOME TO DESIGN.woot. On a more serious note, Stephen, that is an excellent way to put the reason for the sexual orientations of the artsy folk.

And let's hear it for little things. My personal favorite is picking stuff up off the sidewalk. ok. I go to class now.

p.s. i has cold too.