Descent into Life

Wheatstone is over, done, fin.  We were living on the mountain, now we must descend into the fog and blurred vision and rough, uneven terrain of everyday life.  On the mountain, high above the clouds, everything was vivid, clear, reality was not only in sight but in reach.  We could see, hear, touch, and taste real things, not just a shadow through the mists.  People were so real, so vibrant, so alive, on this mountain.  Without distraction or external cares, with nothing to worry but the burdens each one carried themselves, each sorrow and joy, each failure and triumph, was magnified a thousand times and shaped and molded us.  On the mountain, beauty was everywhere, in art, in music, in our companions most of all.  To quote Dr. Reynolds, people were so alive and wonderful that all you could do was to exclaim through tears of joy "My God!  The very face of God!"  Joy was there, up on the mountain, and so was grief.  But then, as always, we began the long descent into the real world.  Though reality was on the mountain, we can not bear reality for very long.  We all must come down from the mountain, through the fog and smog and rocky paths back to the world we live in.  Sometimes, the fog is so thick that we can barely see, barely remember what beauty was atop the mountain.  We become discouraged, tired, unwilling to go on.  But when we need it most, a song, a sunset, a smile remind us of the beauty we could touch and taste on the mountain, and we take courage and press on.  Living below the mountain, let us never forget what we saw.  After beholding such raw glory, beauty, and pain, we must carry that memory with us always, strengthening and spurring us onward until we ascend the mountain once more.  For "All shall be well and/ All manner of thing shall be well/ When the tongues of flame are in-folded/ Into the crowned knot of fire/ And the fire and the rose are one."

Returned

I have returned from the realm of Rebecca's domain...aka Wheatstone...and have so many things to think about and blog about.  So much, in fact, that it shall take me some days to compose everything I want to say here.  So be patient, thoughts shall be forthcoming before I am off again to Houston for more of the same :)

Happy Birthday!

To the most wonderful

dad on the face of the earth,

my solid rock, my knight

in shining armor, my

protector, provider,

my father

3 more days...

until Wheatstone.  I'm really really excited to be back in a community of intellectual, thinking students :)  To be reminded once again what the good life looks like, to renew my desire to develop a well-ordered soul, to challenge myself and stretch myself ever harder, but also to rest from the distractions of the outside world...Wheatstone will be good.  Since Wheatstone last year, there has been a lot of turbulence in my life, a lot of confusion and being blown hither and thither by many influences.  In a sense, I feel slightly like Harriet Vane, returning to Shrewsbury and the academic life after much time in a dramatic and distracting outer world.  (I have a tendency to compare almost every incident in my life to a book or movie, so bear with me :P)  But I'm very happy to be returning to Wheatstone and I look forward to seeing what new goodness, truth, and beauty I will discover through it :)

Museum musings...

Yesterday, I had the privilege of spending an amazing day at the Norton Simon museum in Pasadena with some amazing Torrey friends: Gabriel, Emily, Mary Kate, Christian, Jonathan, Rafael, Jessie, and Katie (plus the amazing chauffeur/bringer of sandwiches-Mrs. Nelson).  It had been ages and ages since I had been to an art museum, so I was very excited to be able to spend some time with good friends and beautiful art :)  However, I came away from the museum somewhat disturbed and confused in soul.  Art-paintings, sculptures, alterpieces, and such-is amazingly beautiful (for the most part).  A few paintings in particular caught my eye while I was there...one by Monet of an adorable garden and house, and another 19th century piece of a huge cathedral interior (I don't remember which one :(  But as I looked more and more at the painting of the church in particular, and contemplated how vast and glorious cathedrals are compared to men, I realized something.  This art is so much more beautiful than what we think we encounter on a daily basis...but the people around us are even more beautiful, because they are real.  Monet's paintings of his gardens are some of my favorite in the world, and yet the garden outside my window is even more beautiful, because it is real.  It saddens me sometimes, that it takes a museum for me to see the beauty in those around me.  But perhaps this is the purpose of art...to make us look back to the original that it reflects?  Coming away from the museum, though, I realized that the most beautiful artwork I saw yesterday was not any of the paintings on the wall nor any of the sculptures in the garden, but the friends that I spent the day with.

Soundtrack to my Life-Part 22

I know this is a day late, but MaryKate said that she enjoys my music, so I'm changing it for her :)  Enjoy!

1) In honour of MaryKate, summertime, and true love, I give you one of the most beautiful songs ever penned...for pop/rock, that is :)  The Ocean, by Mae

2) Jesus Thank You-a fantastic worship song...though I must say, I think we do it better than the recording (we meaning my worship team)

3) Moment Musical No. 5-Rachmaninoff-one of my favorite pieces that I'm learning for my senior recital :)

4) Let It Be-The Beatles-thank you Jessie Nelson for reintroducing me to this song...now I know why everyone learning the piano wants to learn this song :)

5) Hope-We Shot the Moon-I want to learn the piano for this song so badly...it's so gorgeous, plus Hope...my middle name and a very crucial part of me

A rose by any other name...

So I realized today, that although I've been regularly driving my grandma/dad's Cadillac Escalade for several months, I still have not given it a good name.  For those who know me, I have a penchant for naming inanimate objects-my laptop is Chesterton, my dad's/my Acura is Eliot, my iPod is Darcy, my piano is Cecelia, and my keyboard is Autumn.  Therefore, to name the car I currently drive is of high import to me...but I'm stuck on a name.  I want to name it after a favorite composer, but I can't figure out exactly which one fits a large (suburban-size), boxy, slightly touchy, tan-coloured car.  Right now I'm thinking possibly Rachmaninoff, Beethoven, Brahms, or Tchaikovsky.  What do you all think?  Please, give me suggestions :)   If it would really help, maybe I'll post a picture of the car :)