Carrie Underwood - Something In the Water
give. with everything that you are and with everything that you have got. we are not permanent beings with bodies that last forever. one day, our hearts will fail. the structure of our bones will someday collapse into themselves. we’ll run out of time. and resource. we don’t know when that’ll happen. when all of this’ll end. so give. now. even if there is only little left of you. especially then.
"i will support you in your choices and decisions."
— the most encouraging [and needed] words i’ve heard these past few days. thankful.
"Je suis prest. ‘I am ready.’ But ready for what?"
things i have learned about love in the past few days:
it is a choice. sometimes it looks like letting someone mess up so that they can grow on their own. be there to pick them up and hug them through the pain. it’s giving them your candy bar just ‘cause. listen to their favorite song, look up the lyrics, and try to understand. remember that thing they keep saying they want to do? try to help make that happen for them. it’s going for a walk and being silent while they spill their heart. clear their dishes from the table and pour them some water. it’s letting him walk on the side of the sidewalk that’s nearest to the cars on the road because he wants to protect you. seek them out. invest.
don’t let your intentions remain as such. put them into action.
Mike Rosen - When God Happens
Before the towers collapsed into a white noise of smoke and bodies and strewn paper,
there were people in the windows.
They clutched family photos and they jumped;
became human tombstones, falling into the shrapnel of a city covered in the ash of its own citizens -
a city shapeless and somewhere else, riving as it fell.
That night, I feared everything but darkness,so I slept on the floor, at the foot of my father’s bed.
It’s a place where monsters and planes are made easy work of.
That morning, I went to the window.
I wiped my hand along the sill,
I watched my fingers turn gray and I thought: bodies
but I didn’t want to wash them.
I wanted to go to the roof. I did.
I saw the smoke crawling into a postcard.
The smell was everywhere.
I wondered if they would change the postcards now.
Put smoke on what once were towers and then address them to our relatives in Texas and Carolina
where they were rearing to go to war and say,
"I wish- I wish you were here.
I wish you could see these clouds forming under the clouds.
I wish you could touch this smell with your nostrils every time you breathe.
I wish you could run your hands along your window and wonder how the bodies got through the door,
and see what it’s like to live in the most Beverly Hills version of a war zone,
and realize what war might just look like, feel like,
taste like in your breakfast cereal when you realize you’re sitting there, digging Cheerios out your bowl
when they’re digging bodies out of the ground.
That day was not about your God or their god,
because when God happens no one is right.
These were times when we lied to our children.
When you lie to children, no one is right.
I can’t make this any clearer to you.
That day had no black or white,
'cause under that rubble everyone was gray.
Under that rubble was no red, white or blue.
Under that rubble there was just gray.
Now I know… New Yorker’s, we talk a lot.
Sorry, but I’m taking this one back for my home,
'cause under that rubble was not your country.
Under that rubble was our city, our town
our mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters.
That day no one in New York grabbed rifles.
We grabbed bandannas and shovels and we started digging because our lives were underneath that rubble,
and the firemen were looking for the bodies.
It has been ten years and my friend is still looking for her father’s body.
Your war is not helping her find him;
Your war has done nothing but add to the list of boys like me,
who wish to sleep at the feet of their fathers’ beds.
My father worked nowhere near the Trade Center,
but I didn’t know that then.
What I knew was that the phone lines were down,
and that until i heard his voice, so was he.
Your war has done nothing but add to the list of boys in New York, in Iraq, in Afghanistan -
the list of boys who are still waiting for their fathers to come home.”
So happy to finally show you all what I’ve been working for the past 8 weeks! Here’s my re-imagining of the classic story, Peter Pan!
This is a project I did for my Color and Story class at Art Center with Richard Keyes. The class was assigned to create 4 characters and key scenes based on the story of Peter Pan. If you’ve followed me before my Art Center days, then you’ll know that Peter Pan was something I did for my entrance portfolio for college. It was fun to come back to my old project and revamp it!
In all honesty, I’m still planning on reworking several pieces for this project and add more characters and key scenes. BUT I thought I’d share regardless that way we can all see the progression of this particular project!
- Tigerlily (not added)
- The Lost Boys (not added)
Key Scenes :
- Wendy gives Peter a “thimble”
- Peter realizes Wendy is alive, Tinkerbell looks upon them with guilt
- Wendy decides she wants to return home
- Peter returns Wendy home and gives her a “kiss”
~ PLEASE DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT SOURCING ME ~