And when we are dead,
we all have wings.
We won't need legs to stand.
we all have wings.
We won't need legs to stand.
Sufjan Stevens
I don't write anymore. I talk a lot. I think too much... but I don't write anymore. I've kept a journal since I was 12. I have a metal suitcase from World War 2 under my bed crammed to the gills with notebooks full of hopes, love and anguish. My current journal has hardly anything in it but sermon notes and prayer requests. I don't like it. But, like I told someone, I am a linear thinker. I think how I write and write how I think. And when I'm not thinking I am talking. The same process. And to be honest, I don't think I've much going on that I can't talk or think about. What have I got to put down in my journal? What have I got to say that is meaningful enough to share with the masses (all 4 people that read my blog)?
I love to write and I love to tell stories, but I'm not sure about writing stories. I take photographs of stories. I tell stories (over and over again). I want to write a book. To be a "writer"... but I haven't got it in me. I sat down to write a book about my road trip, but I couldn't go back to that place. I can't tell the story without reliving it, and I can't relive it. Nor do I want to. Maybe for my next trip I will write my book as I go. Yes. That's a wonderful idea.
Totally unrelated, I watched The Notebook tonight. I've seen it once before when it first came out on DVD in 2004 or 2005. I lived in the dorms at PLNU and didn't have a TV. Andrea and her roommate were out and let me commandeer their TV for the night. I cried like a baby. And resolved never to watch it again.
That's not real life. Things don't happen like that. (Even if they do, it will never be me.) Movies like The Notebook just set us up for disappointment.
In the last several months I have become an absolutely hopeless romantic. Maybe The Notebook isn't so bad. I thought about false hopes as I watched the movie. Thought about all the books and movies that set women up for a let down. But is it really a let down? I have several friends that are recently married or will be married soon. I've taken up wedding photography. There are so so many people around me that are so in love. Is it like a movie? Can a man really, really love a woman that much? I'm not convinced. I have no problem believing women can love like that- women are built for love. We're nurturers. It's in our nature to love.
I suppose the answer is out there waiting for me as I wait for him.
I love to write and I love to tell stories, but I'm not sure about writing stories. I take photographs of stories. I tell stories (over and over again). I want to write a book. To be a "writer"... but I haven't got it in me. I sat down to write a book about my road trip, but I couldn't go back to that place. I can't tell the story without reliving it, and I can't relive it. Nor do I want to. Maybe for my next trip I will write my book as I go. Yes. That's a wonderful idea.
Totally unrelated, I watched The Notebook tonight. I've seen it once before when it first came out on DVD in 2004 or 2005. I lived in the dorms at PLNU and didn't have a TV. Andrea and her roommate were out and let me commandeer their TV for the night. I cried like a baby. And resolved never to watch it again.
That's not real life. Things don't happen like that. (Even if they do, it will never be me.) Movies like The Notebook just set us up for disappointment.
In the last several months I have become an absolutely hopeless romantic. Maybe The Notebook isn't so bad. I thought about false hopes as I watched the movie. Thought about all the books and movies that set women up for a let down. But is it really a let down? I have several friends that are recently married or will be married soon. I've taken up wedding photography. There are so so many people around me that are so in love. Is it like a movie? Can a man really, really love a woman that much? I'm not convinced. I have no problem believing women can love like that- women are built for love. We're nurturers. It's in our nature to love.
I suppose the answer is out there waiting for me as I wait for him.
No comments:
Post a Comment