Living With Words

I am a writer. My life is marked by words. And sometimes, by the absence of words. The words I say, or write, or think, and again, by the ones I don't. I am like Lena in that. She is an artist, regardless of her  current state of creating art. It is in her, forever.
   Sometimes it's the things we say that define us, or the things we do. Sometimes it's the ones we don't. The ones that gently turn to regrets. The missed opportunities for action, and in the case of a writer, the missed opportunities for words.

Perhaps you did not feel so very much after all. - Sense and Sensibility

   My life is marked by periods of words. Like high school. Where words were far between, but lengthy and morose when I did find them. This got worse when I started college. I wouldn't say the words came in waves - mostly because they never tapered off slowly. They would stop, suddenly. A sudden absence in my consciousness.
   Writing is more like hunting for prey. Building up the courage, forming the strategy, planning the timing, working it all together. Then attacking when the moment is right. Attacking as best you can for as long as you can.
But it's a dangerous beast, and someday you must give up. To live for another fight, another day. Another set of words.

Like wings, they are a burden that lifts us. Burdens that allow us to fly. - Bones 4.22

   I think I feel that burden. The need to write and create, and when all else fails, write some more. Sometimes it's the kind of need that makes you run in the other direction. Sometimes it's the need that seduces you, tricks you. Then you're stuck with it in your bed the morning after and it looks much less appealing now than after a few drinks last night, but you don't know how to get rid of it...
   I wake up with words.
   I go to sleep with words. They're a part of my life in an every-single-goddamned day kind of way.

My interior monologue never stops. Sometimes I wish it did. I've heard some people don't have one. At first I thought that would be so freeing. Then I thought, How lonely would that be? I've never lived without The Words. Not that I can remember at least.
I remember the day my brother taught me how to read to myself. I wanted to read, so I would read to him. I wonder if that was when it started - my inner monologue. Or when I first became aware of it...
I wonder if that's when I was destined to be a writer...
I think my brother just wanted me to stop talking to him all the time.

I think I love most the poetry of words. But I really don't like poetry at all.
I remember quotes because I love the words. They're exciting. And beautiful. And magical.
I find magic in words.
And I hope to convey (someday) magic in my own, for someone else.

-AJ

London Music: Seeing Sounds

So I listened to some great music when I was in London.
And then I doodled about it.

You can tell what songs I loved this most, and that I really got into a certain artist.
Some of them aren't British musicians, some are. They're all songs I first listened to in London though.

There is a B&W version, and a coloured version.

Songs include:
The A Team - Ed Sheeran
My Sweet Amelia - Ben Montague
Drunk - Ed Sheeran
Somebody that I Used to Know - Gotye
Can't Say No - Conor Maynard
Something Purer - The Mystery Jets
Give Me Love - Ed Sheeran
Barton Hollow - The Civil Wars
One Thing - One Direction
Kiss Me - Ed Sheeran
End of Time - Beyonce
Les Plus Beaux (The Most Beautiful) - Francois & The Atlas Mountains
Keep on the Light - Jagga ft. Devlin
Too Close - Alex Clare

The Perks of Being Alive

I feel like I'm frantically writing this, and I know I won't edit it before I post it. But sometimes I don't believe in that. And this is one of those times.

I just watched the trailer for "The Perks of Being a Wallflower" (Watch it here) and it brought me to tears. (I should mention that I am brought to tears just as easily as Jude Law is in The Holiday, but that makes these tears no less valid or meaningful.) I just had this overwhelming feeling that this is what I want to do with my life. Make movies, and write stories that capture the essence of what it is to be young, to be unsettled, and most importantly, to be alive.

"I know there are people who say all these things don't happen. And I know these will all be stories some day. But right now, we are alive. And in this moment, I swear, we are infinite."

I can't wait to see this movie. I love the trailer for it, and I mean, yes, I do love trailers (I'll even watch trailers to movies I already own and have seen MULTIPLE times) but I love this one. It's got a great soundtrack, and it has some great quotes. I haven't read the book, and I think I probably will before the movie comes out.

"Why can't you understand? / I'm never changing who I am."

Just as the trailer is ending, and the music swells, and Emma Watson screams, my heart broke a little. I just thought, This is why it is so important that we are alive. That is the most important thing. EVER. I hurt for all the people who haven't felt like that. And for the people I know who have lost someone like that. For losing sight of the idea that even when life is unbearable, being alive is the most important thing.

"We accept the love we think we deserve."

I have this idea, this obsession, that those years, those awful teenage years where no one really feels right in their own skin (and if you do/did, cheers to you, Mate) they completely change us. Change who we are, who we are going to be, and how we are going to be a part of this world. I have this dream, that maybe someday, in some way, something I do will be able to change, to shape, to alter in some life-affirming way, someone else in those years. That they will read something and know they are not alone in this world. That even if I never know it, I will have saved someone's life because they thought about how important it is for them to be ALIVE.

Don't Do That

Sometimes I'm more than just a writer. Sometimes words just aren't enough. Sometimes, I'm an artist.

This is one of those times.

The words are lyrics from the song, Truth by Chiddy Bang, the graphics are inspired from the music video. (Check out the video here.)

It's not the first thing I've made, but it's the first one here. Maybe because it means the most to me.

Hope you like it.
AJ

Thoughts on Los Angeles: A Senselessness of Community

I'm feeling more and more like Los Angeles isn't the place I want to be. Which is crazy. And stupid. I'm closer to my family. I can call them and talk to them, and even see them if I really needed to. It's pretty much the opposite of London in that respect.
And in others too. LA is a much newer city than London. And I kind of have a thing about cities.
I don't like them.
That's pretty much it.
I like a sense of community. And I don't feel that in cities. But I did in London. Even though it's the largest city in Europe, I still felt like there was a sense of community there. Even though I got way more up close and personal with people on the Tube whose names I will probably never know, I still felt like I was a part of it, I wasn't just some new kid who would never really fit in. And that's how I feel about LA. That I can live here forever, but I'll never be a part of it.
I also think that an older city has had so much time to get things wrong. And they have an amazing ability to get things right. Eventually. Like the guys who clean up the streets of London. It creates jobs and keeps the city looking great. Also, the carts they have seem the best way to do what they do. And I love that. Like transportation. I realize that putting a lot of underground tubing throughout the city of Los Angeles might be a bit hazardous (due to small things like earthquakes, and the number of fault lines there are out here), but transportation here is legen-wait for it-dary-ily AWFUL! I can now verify that. It really is horrible. It can take 30 minutes to get 3 miles. It's so bad it's painful. There have been more instances than I care to think where I have either wanted to, or actually started hitting my head on my steering wheel while I'm stuck in some of the worst (read the WORST. EVER.) traffic I've ever seen. Even on weekends. Which stuns me.
I think I thought LA would be different. But I don't know what I thought it would be different from. Maybe from other cities. I've never really been a big fan of big cities. And maybe because it was in California, it wouldn't feel like a big city. On that, I was most painfully wrong. It's like a big city, but spread out - Cali-style. Which makes it even worse. It's just a city. A big, spread out, ugly city with a smog problem.
Maybe from where I've lived. Where I live in NorCal, and before that, Texas, and even in upstate New York, they're all small cities. Like REALLY SMALL. And in that, I guess I was right.
I think mostly I thought that what would be different was... me. And how I would feel about all of it. But I'm not. I'm exactly who I thought I was. I'm a girl who feels out of place in a big city, just the same as I do in town in the middle of nowhere. And I'm just trying to find the place where I don't.

Thoughts on Los Angeles: This Wonderful World

I'm a writer. I'd like to be a screenwriter. Someday. I like to think of myself as an artist. As a creator. Someone who makes things that someone else can see and relate to. That's the kind of movies I'd like to make.

I'm in Los Angeles now. In Hollywood. That's where the magic happens. Where movies happen.
Right? That's what everyone says. And by sheer majority, they have to be... well... right. Don't they?

My roommate, Daisy, and I were talking about it, and the world, our world here, it's a lot smaller than you would think. Like how our program chair said he's good friends with costume designer for Daisy's favorite show, where she's interning now. It's a freaking small world. And it's the world I need to be a part of, if I want to do... what I want to do. To write, and to make movies. I need to be here. And I am here. So it's perfect.

Right?

As I get settled here though, I start to wonder if it's a world I want to be a part of... The high-stress world of who-knows-who and who's-seen-doing-what. Maybe that's just the stars. And maybe I can't judge it yet. I've only just gotten here.

But I've always found my own way of doing things. I'm starting to wonder if that's what I'm meant to do with the rest of my life.

London, Part 1: Leaving for London

This spring, I studied in London. It was an incredible experience. But is was an experience that I can't just sum up in a few stories, or blog posts. it was wonderful, and terrifying, and completely maddening sometimes, and awful, and so many things I can't even describe. But there were some things I can tell you simply.
I stayed for four months - 9 January to 30 April.
Our school has a campus there, so I never had to transfer or anything.
I took classes - Drama and the London Theatre, Intro to British Styles of Acting, Stage Combat, and Victorian Art & Society.
We don't have housing there, we had to find our own flat.
I got an internship in Soho at a small digital media/post production company - TC Soho.
I spent a weekend in Dublin, a week in Spain, and another weekend in Stratford-upon-Avon.
I drank.
I fell in love with the language (yes, it's different), the transportation system, the money, and the city.
Mostly I can tell you that I went with two good friends, and came back with four great ones.

Other than that, I can't just list off facts and stories all willy nilly. It wasn't just a vacation I can give you the highlights from. It was four months. And it was our life.
We lived there, all of us. Not just my flat, but others too, the 120 other students who took the same semester we did, but had completely different experiences. And all 120 of us were Londoners.

But if I'm going to start anywhere (and I think I better be starting somewhere, you've read all this way expecting something, and I better hop to it), I might as well start at the beginning:

My brother drove me to the airport. I normally fly out of this airport, and it's one of my favorites in the US (and maybe the world). But it was strange this time. First, it was daytime – I'm never that lucky with flights, I'm always leaving at some ungodly hour, and usually getting in at another ungodly hour, much to my family's dismay. Second, it was the international terminal. With international flights, and international shops, and international security. Overwhelming doesn't even cover it. It's nicer than the rest of the airport, not that it's bad, international is just that, said with a bit of posh and usually represented in stainless steel. Third, I was leaving for London, not just across the country. And that was weird. Strange, and weird, and overwhelming, and something you just have to do and keep doing because if you freak out, you're going to miss your flight, and maybe that's what you want, or think you want, but if you do, you've just wasted an awful lot of money on the plane ticket...
So no matter what I thought, I got on the plane. And 12 hours, 2 terrible plane meals, an awful night's sleep, and one terribly long wait at the gate, I was in London.

Actually that's a pretty interesting tid-bit: we had to wait at the gate for FOREVER (and it wasn't really that long, but after a VERY long plane ride, it seemed to be a very, very long time...) because, for some reason, they didn't have a jet bridge for us, and they needed to find stairs for us to de-board (or is it 'de-plane... whatever. We had to get off the plane) and they brought over at least two sets of stairs that weren't the right height. I had a window on the left side of the plane, so I got to watch all the insanity. It also ended up being the largest set of stairs on wheels I've ever seen. But really.

Thanks for reading <3

How I Got Into College

   As I close my eyes, Miss Leadingham tells us to envision our lives next year. I see myself in Ithaca's forms, waking up early to get a practice room before my first class. Quietly, I creep into the soundproof room and close the door, even though no one can hear me. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes, a ritual now, savoring every moment I have here. This is where I'm meant to be, to live and breathe and learn, I think to myself. I love that I have been given the opportunity to come here, what I can accomplish, who I can become in the next phase of my life. Studying English, and writing, and music, and film and everything I can, I love it here. I'll love it there. I'm scared, of course, I won't know anyone, and I have never made friends with ease, but I know I'll love it at Ithaca, despite those fears.
   I have found solace in words, but I can't find 500 of them, or even 1,000 that describe those feelings enough to make you fall in love with my application. How can you expect any high school senior to write the essay that really describes who she is to people who don't even know her – in 500 words? I want to make a good first impression, to tell you all about my life, the events taht have made me who I am today, how learning my brother does drugs, actually brought us closer together, even though it tore my family apart; how finding Ithaca had the academic programs i needed and the extracurricular activities I wanted made me certain of the next step; how breaking my ankle and starting high school on crutches ended my hopes of a gymnastics career; how finding writing and what it could do for me, helped me find myself; how music is the most emotional experience in my life on a daily basis; how I felt connected to Ithaca and its musical history in an instant. But I can't. I can't tell you all about myself, or even one life changing moment, because some of those are times in my life I don't care to relive. I can tell you about the defining moments that I cherish because I love who I am now, because of them, but am also afraid to describe to people who can't see life the way I do. I wish I could tell you how all of that feels in 1,000 words because even more than that, I can't describe to you how the quiet little town of Ithaca made me feel like I was home, in a place that I had never imagined existed.
   My defining moments are those that happen inside my head, where others can't see and judge and compare me to anyone else. For years I wanted to be a gymnast, and a chemist, and a veteranarian, and then a writer.
   "You may begin the test now," the proctor tells us. Already bored out of my skyll, I flip to the first page of the 9th grade math standardized state test. Forty-six questions later and no less bored, a phrase flows into my head while I'm avoiding thinking about the quadratic formula. "He held my heart." Not knowing what these words are, but loving the flow and the repeated "he" sound, I am compelled to write another. This one flows just as smoothly into my head, "He made it crack." Furiously I scribble them down on the empty space on the test – I don't want to lose them. I return to the quadratic formula, and question 47, but I have the unquenchable urge to keep writing. Ten minutes later, 12 more lines, yet no farther along in the test, I feel satisfied – finished.
   I am skilled at using words to show people a life and a reality that they might not be able to imagine. I found writing, not the script, but within myself, and finding that buried so deep, I found myself. When asked, I say with pride, "I'm a writer," a simple statement that I have no doubt about, that strikes a chord of peace within me. Writing is a constant, a constant effort, a constant source of joy – but that doesn't mean it's all I do, or all I am.
   Being a musician is in my soul, part of my fate, a part that I continue to work towards. I know I'm supposed to tell you that I've worked so hard, come so hard, and that I believe I've become the best musician I can be. I don't want to. I'm a liar, so often, so easily, but not right now, for this purpose, I don't feel like lying. That might be the worst idea, but at least I'm trying to be honest. I'm lazy, I don't always practice although I know I should and I have the time. I may not always live up to my fullest potential, but I do live with passion and a love for music that is rivaled only by my love of love, and love of writing.
   I didn't always know I would study music in college, not the way I did writing. Grant, my flute teacher, mentioned one week that he was a performer. He could get up on a stange and love it – every time. As he said this, I realised I wasnt' the performer he was, that I was a more behind-the-scenes girl. The feeling that flooded through me a sI thought of this was one of sincere truth. I said then, "I want to make it. Make music." I knew then that if I didn't study music for the rest of my life, seriously study it,  I would not be living up to the person that I am meant to be. Like writing, theis is what I know I want to do with the rest o fmy life. I love it, the way I love my writing, and how my room feels entirely me. It's who I am, and it's who I dream of being.
   Dreaming of the places in my mind, finding somewhere to belong, to study, and meet people and do extraordinary things, Ithaca drifts through my mind. The scenerey I found there, and the beautiful architecture of hte music building, a place I could feel at home – surrounded by strangers – any time. I feel at peave with what I find there, a place I've discovered that found me; a place wher I can be the one of a kind, shy, outspoken person that I have become; a place that I feel inexplicably drawn to; a place where I'm meant to be, meant to create words that change lives and make music that inspires souls.

I know it's kind of lame, but these words were the ones that changed my life. This is how I got into college. How do you really say no to this?

Thanks for reading <3

Glorious International Food Week: an Introduction

I like food. I like eating food, and I like making food. What's strange is that I'm kind of a picky eater. When I was younger, it was 'picky,' now at group/guest meals, it's just polite. "No, thanks. I'm alright. I'm sure someone else would like it more."
But cooking my own food gets me around that. I can make all kinds of crazy foods, and just avoid the things I don't like. I love it.
But some of my friends, like my cooking companions, Pops and Wonder Bread, are picky in different ways than I am. The list of prohibited foods include, but are not limited to:
Mushrooms (which I love)
Mac and Cheese (also love)
Soups, of all kinds (which, to be honest, I'm not really into much either)
Ground Meat, of any kind (I really can't live without hamburgers and meatballs)
and Strawberries (which I love, but can live without)
So when the opportunity arrives where I happen to be cooking without them, I head straight to my banned foods list. And when Pops is gone for an entire week?
...
COMMENCE GLORIOUS FOOD WEEK!
I might also add that every Wednesday here in NY is Quesadilla Wednesday. Every. Single. Wednesday. Usually chicken. ALWAYS quesadillas. I'm not so fond of weekly quesadillas. Don't get me wrong, I love mexican food. As a transplanted Californian, there are some foods I cannot live without. Most notably completely fake, gooey chinese food, and honest to goodness mexican food. But quesadillas, to me, barely hint at the wonder of true mexican food.
So with the prospect of an entire week sans Pops, my new companion Girl Wonder and I were thinking - change Quesadilla Wednesday into Mexican Night. And while we're at it, why not make the whole week themed, based off things Pops won't eat. And thus, Glorious Food Week became...
GLORIOUS INTERNATIONAL FOOD WEEK!
And then I started planning. I have an entire 8 days of breakfast, lunches, and dinners, and desserts all up to my discretion.
So far, I'm thinking of hitting Indian, Chinese, Canadian (Girl Wonder is from Canada), Polish, English, Mexican, and Classic American.
If you have any suggestions (for ethnicities or recipes/dishes), please leave me a comment!
I'll be posting recipes and my thoughts from the week.

Quotes That Speak to Me

I like words. I think there's a physical beauty in them. They can create a picture, a sound, a taste, a feeling, an entire world. Words are the atoms of life.

And there is something incredibly... romantic about a well constructed phrase.

So here are some of the phrases, sentences, anything really, that I think are beautiful enough to try and share with the world. Enjoy.

Television
"Peter, I remember William Bell. I remember crossing over to bring you back. I remember Jacksonville, and seeing you shimmer the first time we kissed. I remember you walking to the Machine and getting inside and being scared you were going to die. I remember it. I remember us. I remember everything."
-Olivia
Fringe: Episode 4.13 A Better Human Being

On Dying:
(Screams)
"That's right, honey. Let it all out, 'cause there's no room for that where we're going."
"Oh, this fucking sucks."
-Grams
True Blood: Episode 4.12 And When I Die

Doctor "That's you, from the future. Serving time for a murder you probably can't remember. My murder.
River "Why would you do that? Make me watch?
"So that you know this is inevitable. And you are forgiven. Always and completely forgiven."
"Please, my love. Please, please. Just run."
"Can't."
"Time can be rewritten."
"Don't you dare."
Doctor Who: Episode 6.13 The Wedding of River Song

Because, Summer. I like you - this much.
- Seth Cohen
The OC: Episode 1.10

And we hurt each other. It is horrible how we hurt each other.
- Amy
Everwood: Episode 2.22

One of these days, you're going to have to stop hating what you are.
- Joseph
Moonlight

Because I love her. And I can't make her happy.
- Chuck Bass
Gossip Girl: Episode 2.24

"Do you like her? More than me?"
"Jude, you can't ask me that."
"I'm asking."
- Jude and Tommy
Instant Star

When a woman gives birth to a crack baby, you do not buy her a puppy.
- Emily Gilmore
Gilmore Girls

Movies
For all tine, they'd say it was our love, brought down a kingdom.
Tristan - Tristan + Isolde

A love so real that even after you're dead it still hurts.
Must Love Dogs

Books
I stare at Tobey. He looks back at me with such an intensity I expect the glass to shatter.
I press my hand against his window. He presses his hand on the other side of mine.
For a while, we stay like that. With our hands pressed together, separated by glass.
When It Happens - Susane Colassanti

"Names are forged in Heaven." -Allegra

"Do not cry for me, Azrael. Do not waste your tears. You made your decision. And this is mine. Sacrifice seems to be my destiny. A funny thing for a selfish man, isn't it? They always called me weak back then... By maybe weakness is a strength of a kind." -Kingsley

The Van Alen Legacy - Melissa de la Cruz

"Tell me one thing," said Harry. "Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?" Dumbledore beamed at him, and his voice sounded loud and strong in Harry's ears even though the bright mist was descending again, obscuring his figure. "Of course this is happening inside your head, Harry. But why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"
The green eyes found the black.
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - JK Rowling

But it's too late, I'm slipping, I'm gone, he's gone, and the moment curls away and back on itself like a flower folding up for the night.
My heart aches frantically for a second as I think of all the time I wasted, seconds and hours spun out of my fingertips forever like snow into the dark.
Before I Fall - Lauren Oliver

There was a lot of empty time in which to miss her.
Where She Went - Gayle Foreman

"If you tell me you are not troubled, I will call you a liar. So what will you do?"
"I will be troubled, and keep my vows."

"And King Harren learned that thick walls and high towers are small use against dragons. For dragons fly."

A Clash of Kings - George R. R. Martin

They carried all they could bear, and then some, including a silent awe of the terrible power of the things they carried.
The Things They Carried - Time O'Brien

Plays & Poems
And the princess, she just stops. I just stop. And it's like I've been here all my life. And I begin to see some piece of something, something big as the whole night sky, heavy and full. And inside the dark, inside the inside, I see all these lights, thousands and thousands of lights. And I'm thinking to myself, how beautiful they are. And I'm so close I can almost touch them, so close, I can't even tell where I stop, and where they begin.
Polaroid Stories - Naomi Iuzuki

Trip no further, pretty sweeting
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise man's son doth know.
Twelfth Night, or What You Will - William Shakespeare

Doubt that the stars are fire. Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth be a liar. But never doubt I love.
Hamlet - William Shakespeare

These violent delights have violent ends, and in their triumph die. Like fire and powder, which, as they kiss, consume.
It is enough I may but call her, "Mine."
The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet - William Shakespeare

Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.
The Old Astronomer to His Pupil - Sarah Williams

We believe in the life of the world to come. Amen.
Church Prayer

Songs
So who's going to watch you die?
What Sarah Said - Death Cab for Cutie

Don't be afraid. You were made to go out and get her. Remember to let her into your heart.
Hey Jude - The Beatles

You keep the air in my lungs, floating along as a melody comes.
How I Go - Yellowcard

I can't live, I can't breathe. Unless you do this with me...
The Adventure - Angels and Airwaves

You put your arms around me, and I believe that it's easier for you to let me go. You put your arms around me and I'm home.
Arms - Christina Perri

Oh, my sweet Amelia. Where you go, you go too far. I can't follow where you go cause it's too dark.
Sweet Amelia - Ben Montague

People
Everything is always okay in the end.
If it's not okay, then it's not the end.
- Unknown

Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.

- Albert Einstein

We ourselves will be remembered as a collective for what we did, and failed to do. Together.
- John Green

For small creatures, such as we, the vastness is only bearable through love.
- Carl Sagan

Viva Cristo Real
- Mexican Missionary

EWW! Pedophilia!
- KMacK

I look in your eyes and all I can think and all I can feel is, 'Of Course.'

I Will Rise Up

I love True Blood. I'm the youngest in my family (and I'm 20 now) so, somehow, and I think it's because I've trained my family to have decent taste in television, our "family shows" are HBO shows. (Our new favorite is Game of Thrones) We have watched almost every episode (excluding some of season 2), and almost every one we watched together. It's weird, I know, but it's my family and I love them for it.

One of my favorite scenes is in episode 2x09, I Will Rise Up. It's the last scene of the episode, and sorry, spoiler alert, it's the scene where Godric dies (and Sookie stays with him). Godric is about two thousand years old. And even for a vampire, (True Blood vampires specifically) that's old. I mean, OLD. I think we only meet one other vampire that's older than him, and there's a lot of vampires. One thing he says, as he's dying, (he chooses to wait for the sun to rise and burn, depressing, but beautiful) he asks Sookie, "If there is a god, how will he punish me?" And in her infinite, although sometimes painfully frustrating, wisdom, she says, "God doesn't punish. He forgives." (There are more things I love about this scene, but I'll get to them in time.)
I don't know about you, but that's the God I believe in. I don't care what I call him, or what any one else calls him, or how strongly you believe, or don't. To be honest, I don't care if any one believes in any kind of God or not. I think, and I know from my own experiences, that we all find God in our own time, and no amount of Bible thumping, intolerant, preachy Christians can make that happen any faster than it should. (If you can't tell from that, I don't deal well with intolerance...) Back to the point: "God doesn't punish. He forgives." I thought that was the best way to talk about God, the best way to believe in God. And because I love this scene so much (maybe too much...) I watch it on YouTube... a lot. And one time, I scrolled down to look through the comments. Someone had posted saying that wasn't how God was, and that Sookie is being the wrong kind of Christian saying that. I got rather frustrated with this: Why go around watching a scene on YouTube that you don't agree with, then start picking fights with people in comments on your views on God and religion? I still don't know the answer to this, but it made me wonder about their faith. Was it their own, or was it someone else's views they were spouting? I thought about this for a while, but my main thought was: Why would you want to believe in a God that wouldn't always love you, wouldn't always forgive you, support you? I don't know the answer to that either, but just having the thought made me think about my own faith. I was raised Roman Catholic, both my parents are, and their parents, and pretty much every family member I've ever met... But I don't know if a single one of them had ever shared this thought with me. This faith I had, it was all my own. (How I got there though, that's a different story.)

The last beautiful aspect of this scene? Another quote. Sookie asks if Godric is afraid. He tells her he wants to burn. She tells him she's afraid for him, then starts to cry (she does a lot of that, rather emotional girl). Godric replies: "A human with me at the end? And human tears?" A pause. "Two thousand years, and I can still be surprised?" He smiles to himself. "In this I see God." Then Sookie cries some more, and Godric burns in the light of the rising sun. The idea that you can see God in surprises, in new experiences, in unexpected ways? It's the simplest one, I mean really, it's what they teach you in Bible School. But it's the most beautiful.

If you don't like God, don't hate on those who do.
If you do like God, don't hate on those who don't. And don't preach. Ever. You found your God, let everyone find their own, in their own time.

Until next time,
Alissa

Nobody Said it Would be Easy...

They just promised it would be worth it.
I think the sometimes the hardest things in life are the most "worth it."

But what does it mean for something to be... "worth it?" What qualifies? How do we know when something we're doing will be "worth it?"

I think it's something you can only see in hindsight. The nights you never forget. The days you fall over laughing about with your closest friends, even months or years later.
But those are the easy times, the easy choices, even the things that happen by chance. The nights that spring out of nowhere, but surprise you with how unforgettable they can be. The afternoons spent playing board games with your closest friends because you feel like it, and all your jokes, the ones only you guys laugh at just come pouring out in the craziest fits of laughter.

But what about the hard choices?
For me, going to college in Ithaca, New York from living most of my life in Northern California wasn't a hard choice. Staying was. My first semester was probably the hardest consecutive four months of my life. And then I had to go back. I seriously looked into transferring schools, going somewhere closer to home that was just as good for what I wanted to do (screenwriting). Choosing to stay though, that was one of the hardest decisions I've ever made. Because being there hadn't been easy, and there was no guarantee that staying would make anything any better.
But I did. I'm in my third year now, and it has been so worth it. I have a whole family of friends here, and an entire chapter of sisters, and I never would have gotten this close to any of them if I had left. It's one of the most "worth it" decisions of my life. Even if it was one of the hardest. Especially then.

Those hard choices, those ones we make because we can't imagine the alternative, when there is no way out but to choose, even if it kills us, it doesn't. We make a choice, we push forward, we keep calm and carry on. Because not choosing, that would really kill us. And no matter what we do choose, the process of choosing has made us think so deeply about what really lies in the depths of our heart, that even if you feel you had chosen wrong, there's no such thing. Your heart will always lead you home. I think believing that is one of the best ways to go through life.

Your Heart will always lead you Home...
   It makes Life so worth it.

Until next time,
Alissa

And to be Grateful for It...

Hey there


So, this is a blog. I'm writing it ("I" am Alissa), and that's kind of what I do. I write. And I read. But I'm at school to be a writer - a screenwriter actually. That's something else - I watch movies. Lots of movies. And lots television.


That's actually where this blog title comes from. One of my all time favorite TV shows (I say that a lot, but I really do mean it), is Everwood (WB series, 4 seasons, 2002-2006, Gregory Smith, Emily VanCamp). Ephram (main character) is a great piano student and he narrates some of the show, usually at the end of each episode. In "Shoot the Moon" episode 3x06, Ephram narrates the college entrance essay he's writing for Amy (girlfriend, long story) and he quotes a poem by Johann Franck, "Defy the old dragon, Defy fear. The world may rage and quake, But I shall remain singing, In Perfect Peace." He goes on to talk about how the world changes, how it is inevitable, and how you can want things suddenly that you never thought you would ever want. I know what that feels like. The episode ends with Ephram playing piano and the last lines of the essay. "A place to be surprised when life turns out to be nothing like I imagined. And to be grateful for it - in perfect peace."


As I eluded, my life has taken some of those turns, wanting things I never thought I'd want. New possibilities, new people, new opportunities. And I'm trying to be grateful for it, in perfect peace.
Like ending up studying in London when, 5 months ago, the thought had never even crossed my mind.


I also try to live with the belief that everything happens for a reason, even things we didn't plan for, things we don't like, that break our hearts. No matter what, life is what it is, and we should all be grateful for the chance to live it as best we can.


But what am I writing...
I don't really know, I guess. I don't even know who I'm writing for. Mostly myself, I think. I'm very intrigued by how people think and live, and writing about how I do it, how I think about things, life, media even, could be pretty interesting. But I guess I'll just see where it takes me...


Until next time,
Alissa