I am starting a new blog. I might still post here now and again, but the new blog... its new... that's all.
Check it out if you would like... its called be still my soul... but the address is something like... thewindsandwavesstillknow.blogspot.com - i might end up changing the title to, the winds and waves still know... its still in the works.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
ISFP... the artist
My cousin has a friend that can look in your eyes and tell what personality type you are according to Myers&Briggs. He told me that he has always been able to look at people and know things about them… but he studied Myers&Briggs so that he had the ability to talk to people about what he knows intuitively without totally freaking them out. He is currently writing a book on the subject…
I was first exposed to Myers&Briggs in high school when I tested as an INFP. Cousin’s friend looked in my eyes and within seconds said, “ISFP”. I told him that I thought I was an INFP. He said, “ISFPs always think they are INFPs. Why would anyone want to be an INFP. They are so depressed.” With this information I started reading about ISFPs and the profile fits. The ISFP is the archetypical artist and the feminine. We aren’t great with money because it doesn’t really matter to us… and finally… this part I love… Unless the ISFP finds a medium to express what they experience inside they always feel disconnected with humanity. A long time ago someone told me, “you have the soul of an artist”. I like hearing that… and after watching Billy Elliot I cried… it was kind of embarrassing… because he found his medium…
My medium… I am still trying to figure that one out… I am kind of lazy so I hope my outlet for expression finds me… hmmm… The book I read said that most ISFPs are not necessarily able to express themselves as writers, but ISPF Hemingway was able to do this… I like Hemingway.
I am currently reading A Moveable Feast. I like it. I like hem. I like that his Victorian mother dressed him in girls clothes as a child and his only time to be a boy was when he went hunting with his father… This was probably the only time that his father was able to be a man as well since his wife was so controlling… but later… probably fighting against the control of his mother… she discouraged his writing… he became the masculine voice of American literature. A famous line from A Moveable Feast in the chapter Miss Stein Instructs… Stein tell Hemingway,
“Do not worry. You have always written before and you will write now. All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.”
And he followed Stein’s advice with, “So finally I would write one true sentence, and then go on from there. It was easy then because there was always one true sentence that I knew or had seen or had heard someone say.”
Reading on the bus today… this made me laugh… Hemingway is talking about a peer who is promising that he Hemingway will win a large $reward for his writing… really it was a trick by the guy to get great writers to submit work to his magazine… Hemingway… made me laugh with this…
“It made me feel sick for people to talk about my writing to my face, and I looked at him and his marked-for-death look and I thought, you con man conning me with your con. I’ve seen a battalion in the dust on he road, a third of them for death or worse and no special marks on them, the dust for all, and you and your marked-for-death look, you con man, making a living out of your death. Now you will con me. Con not, that thou be not conned…”
that’s all I have for now.
I was first exposed to Myers&Briggs in high school when I tested as an INFP. Cousin’s friend looked in my eyes and within seconds said, “ISFP”. I told him that I thought I was an INFP. He said, “ISFPs always think they are INFPs. Why would anyone want to be an INFP. They are so depressed.” With this information I started reading about ISFPs and the profile fits. The ISFP is the archetypical artist and the feminine. We aren’t great with money because it doesn’t really matter to us… and finally… this part I love… Unless the ISFP finds a medium to express what they experience inside they always feel disconnected with humanity. A long time ago someone told me, “you have the soul of an artist”. I like hearing that… and after watching Billy Elliot I cried… it was kind of embarrassing… because he found his medium…
My medium… I am still trying to figure that one out… I am kind of lazy so I hope my outlet for expression finds me… hmmm… The book I read said that most ISFPs are not necessarily able to express themselves as writers, but ISPF Hemingway was able to do this… I like Hemingway.
I am currently reading A Moveable Feast. I like it. I like hem. I like that his Victorian mother dressed him in girls clothes as a child and his only time to be a boy was when he went hunting with his father… This was probably the only time that his father was able to be a man as well since his wife was so controlling… but later… probably fighting against the control of his mother… she discouraged his writing… he became the masculine voice of American literature. A famous line from A Moveable Feast in the chapter Miss Stein Instructs… Stein tell Hemingway,
“Do not worry. You have always written before and you will write now. All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.”
And he followed Stein’s advice with, “So finally I would write one true sentence, and then go on from there. It was easy then because there was always one true sentence that I knew or had seen or had heard someone say.”
Reading on the bus today… this made me laugh… Hemingway is talking about a peer who is promising that he Hemingway will win a large $reward for his writing… really it was a trick by the guy to get great writers to submit work to his magazine… Hemingway… made me laugh with this…
“It made me feel sick for people to talk about my writing to my face, and I looked at him and his marked-for-death look and I thought, you con man conning me with your con. I’ve seen a battalion in the dust on he road, a third of them for death or worse and no special marks on them, the dust for all, and you and your marked-for-death look, you con man, making a living out of your death. Now you will con me. Con not, that thou be not conned…”
that’s all I have for now.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
boys.... hmmmm.....
It is kind of fun that my blog is so private... really... it is... I think there are less then 10 people that are invited readers. I am not trying to be totally exclusive... but either you all always read it before or asked to be here... I think I will let anyone on that asks... but... ya
Like I can write about how I hung out with someone this weekend... and how he seems to be pretty cool... and at least for the weekend he was into me... but how I really just wanted to go home and read a book... and that the whole time I was missing someone else... sometimes I lie to myself and think I just wish I had a date... and then when I have a date I think... hmmm... maybe I don’t want to date... because hanging out with someone I don’t feel that comfortable with makes me miss the last person I did feel comfortable with...
But in all of this... it is good to know that my cute nephew is still sweet and young enough to think it is ok to marry me after his mission… I will be in my late 40s by then... it should be the perfect time to settle down... this adorable nephew of mine just had a little brother... I get to go see them in April... I can’t wait to kiss both of their little faces...
Thursday, January 22, 2009
please feel free to laugh at me for this... i laugh at me for this
When I lived in Logan I tried to date Sam… he lived in Provo. I thought there was something there. Not because I really felt a connection, but because he was born in 1975 and he had dark hair and light eyes. Because his middle name is Phillip, I thought he was my soul mate. A palm reader told me in 1999 that my soul mate was a man named Phillip, born in 1975 with dark hair and light eyes. This soul mate of mine is also supposed to be very good looking. Sam Phillip L is all of those things. Our final conversation went a little something like this…
Me: so are you interested in me or not?
He: ummm
Me: just say yes of no.
He: no
Me: ok, thanks.
(Awkward goodbye hug)
Later he emailed me and apologized if he hurt my feelings. He said, “I hope you are not mad at me.” He really is such a nice person and he felt really bad. I wrote back and told him he was lame. I told him that he should have been honest from the get go and that he led me on. I was pretty harsh. That was almost seven years ago. I am totally embarrassed by the entire situation now. I am really embarrassed for not realizing what a connection really feels like. It is really funny/embarrassing that I thought someone was my soul mate because he fit a palm reader’s criteria.
To make a short story long, he introduced me to Greg Brown. Greg Brown is now one of my favorite musicians. I have seen him perform three times. I have a huge crush on him. He is so soothing, authentic, poetic… and… wow… he makes the everyday beautiful. He seems to have the ability to hold a moment in time – painted with his words so beautifully… he is really sensual without being dirty… makes me want to have babies and hold hands…
Anyways… I listened to this song tonight… and I wrote out the words… the way I used to before the internet made finding lyrics so easy… I have always loved this song… for the line
“Spring will come I know it will” – he sings it with such hope… and it is exactly the kind of hope I need in January… and “I wanted to get to know you, but you said you were shy… I watched you walk along the fence… and hello ran into goodbye…”
but after close examination… I like “she stood there in the door way smoothing out her dress, she’d say this life is like a ripe thump melon… so sweet and such a mess”… and, “beware of them that look at you as an experience.”
Thanks Sam… for Greg Brown… he is worth the embarrassment I remember every time I remember how I thought you were my soul mate…
Lyrics to Rexroth's Daughter :
Coldest night of the winter working up my farewell
In the middle of everything under no particular spell
I am dreaming of the mountains where the children learn the stars
Clouds roll in from nebraska dark chords on a big guitar
My restlessness is long gone i would stand here like an old jack pine
But I'm looking for rexroth's daughter the friend of a friend of mine
I can't believe your hands and mouth did all that to me
Are so daily naked for all the world to see
That thunderstorm in michigan i never will forget
We shook right with the thunder & with the pounding rain got wet
Where did you turn when you turned from me with your arms across your chest
I am looking for rexroth's daughter i saw her in the great northwest
Would she have said it was the wrong time if I had found her then
I don't want too much a field across the road and a few good friends
She used to come & see me but she was always there & gone
Even the very longest love does not last too long
She'd stand there in my doorway smoothing out her dress
& say "this life is a thump-ripe melon-so sweet and such a mess"
I wanted to get to know you but you said you were shy
I would have followed you anywhere but hello rolled into goodbye
I just stood there watching as you walked along the fence
Beware of them that look at you as an experience
You're back out on the highway with your poems of city heat
& I'm looking for rexroth's daughter here on my own side street
The murderer who lived next door seemed like such a normal guy-
If you try to follow what they shove at us you run out of tears to cry
I heard a man speak quietly i listened for a while
He spoke from his heart to my woe & then he bowed & smiled
What is real but compassion as we move from birth to death
I am looking for rexroth's daughter & I'm running out of breath
Spring will come back i know it will & it will do its best
So useful so endangered like a lion or a breast
I think about my children when i look at any child's face
& pray that we will find a way to get with all this amazing grace
It's so cold out there tonight so stormy i can hardly see
& i'm looking for rexroth's daughter & i guess i always will be
Me: so are you interested in me or not?
He: ummm
Me: just say yes of no.
He: no
Me: ok, thanks.
(Awkward goodbye hug)
Later he emailed me and apologized if he hurt my feelings. He said, “I hope you are not mad at me.” He really is such a nice person and he felt really bad. I wrote back and told him he was lame. I told him that he should have been honest from the get go and that he led me on. I was pretty harsh. That was almost seven years ago. I am totally embarrassed by the entire situation now. I am really embarrassed for not realizing what a connection really feels like. It is really funny/embarrassing that I thought someone was my soul mate because he fit a palm reader’s criteria.
To make a short story long, he introduced me to Greg Brown. Greg Brown is now one of my favorite musicians. I have seen him perform three times. I have a huge crush on him. He is so soothing, authentic, poetic… and… wow… he makes the everyday beautiful. He seems to have the ability to hold a moment in time – painted with his words so beautifully… he is really sensual without being dirty… makes me want to have babies and hold hands…
Anyways… I listened to this song tonight… and I wrote out the words… the way I used to before the internet made finding lyrics so easy… I have always loved this song… for the line
“Spring will come I know it will” – he sings it with such hope… and it is exactly the kind of hope I need in January… and “I wanted to get to know you, but you said you were shy… I watched you walk along the fence… and hello ran into goodbye…”
but after close examination… I like “she stood there in the door way smoothing out her dress, she’d say this life is like a ripe thump melon… so sweet and such a mess”… and, “beware of them that look at you as an experience.”
Thanks Sam… for Greg Brown… he is worth the embarrassment I remember every time I remember how I thought you were my soul mate…
Lyrics to Rexroth's Daughter :
Coldest night of the winter working up my farewell
In the middle of everything under no particular spell
I am dreaming of the mountains where the children learn the stars
Clouds roll in from nebraska dark chords on a big guitar
My restlessness is long gone i would stand here like an old jack pine
But I'm looking for rexroth's daughter the friend of a friend of mine
I can't believe your hands and mouth did all that to me
Are so daily naked for all the world to see
That thunderstorm in michigan i never will forget
We shook right with the thunder & with the pounding rain got wet
Where did you turn when you turned from me with your arms across your chest
I am looking for rexroth's daughter i saw her in the great northwest
Would she have said it was the wrong time if I had found her then
I don't want too much a field across the road and a few good friends
She used to come & see me but she was always there & gone
Even the very longest love does not last too long
She'd stand there in my doorway smoothing out her dress
& say "this life is a thump-ripe melon-so sweet and such a mess"
I wanted to get to know you but you said you were shy
I would have followed you anywhere but hello rolled into goodbye
I just stood there watching as you walked along the fence
Beware of them that look at you as an experience
You're back out on the highway with your poems of city heat
& I'm looking for rexroth's daughter here on my own side street
The murderer who lived next door seemed like such a normal guy-
If you try to follow what they shove at us you run out of tears to cry
I heard a man speak quietly i listened for a while
He spoke from his heart to my woe & then he bowed & smiled
What is real but compassion as we move from birth to death
I am looking for rexroth's daughter & I'm running out of breath
Spring will come back i know it will & it will do its best
So useful so endangered like a lion or a breast
I think about my children when i look at any child's face
& pray that we will find a way to get with all this amazing grace
It's so cold out there tonight so stormy i can hardly see
& i'm looking for rexroth's daughter & i guess i always will be
this is kind of sad... but good... for real
So I have decided to disappear as much as I can. The superficial social world that exists via the Internet overwhelms me. I go through phases where I realize how alienated I feel from interacting with “friends” through this medium. So, I disappear… I disappeared.
But here I am writing, because I feel like I have something to write. So much has happened and is happening. Not in the expected day to day. In fact for the last few weeks I have almost completely halted the day to day. Life has consisted of work and movies. I have watched so many movies that the guys at The Tower theater know me by name and they know I rent Russian and Iranian films.
So, I encountered some junior high drama the other night. I am not usually such a crybaby. It was cleansing me think... I haven’t cried so much since I let go of the last boy I loved. In this process the most amazing thing has happened. People have floated to the surface... my friends. My thoughts have roamed to people around me that should and will become friends. I have thought about my family. I even purchased a ticket to Portland to go see my sister in April and I am considering a trip to Houston in March.
On the other side of this sadness… a sadness that was strangely all consuming... I feel more grateful, loved and happy...
But here I am writing, because I feel like I have something to write. So much has happened and is happening. Not in the expected day to day. In fact for the last few weeks I have almost completely halted the day to day. Life has consisted of work and movies. I have watched so many movies that the guys at The Tower theater know me by name and they know I rent Russian and Iranian films.
So, I encountered some junior high drama the other night. I am not usually such a crybaby. It was cleansing me think... I haven’t cried so much since I let go of the last boy I loved. In this process the most amazing thing has happened. People have floated to the surface... my friends. My thoughts have roamed to people around me that should and will become friends. I have thought about my family. I even purchased a ticket to Portland to go see my sister in April and I am considering a trip to Houston in March.
On the other side of this sadness… a sadness that was strangely all consuming... I feel more grateful, loved and happy...
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