Sunday, May 30, 2010

forgeries of faerïe


Here is a teaser trailer for the production of A Midsummer Night's Dream that I've been rehearsing for! They "premiered" it for us tonight at rehearsal, and then asked us to send it out to everyone we knew. Actually, they asked us to post it on our Facebook pages, but since I've sworn off of Facebook until I finish all my schoolwork.

I've decided to share it with ya'll!

(Lucky you!)
(it looks prettier full-screen, so for optimal viewing satisfaction, we recommend full-screen)

The drum circle you see in the trailer is how we begin and end the show. It's wild, adrenaline-filled, and absolutely magical.
And now you see for what I've been sacrificing pie night.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010


The best way to begin any story is to say:

"So, I was at Target today..."

Everyone knows that any story that begins with the words:

"So, I was at Target today..."

is going to be a ridiculously awesome story. Or, at least, your audience will be fooled into thinking that it's a ridiculously awesome story, because they are still not over the ridiculous awesomeness of your opening sentence:

"So, I was at Target today..."

That, my dear friends, is called strategy. More specifically, it's called good strategy. I most ardently urge you to employ it as ubiquitously as possible.


I was at Target today.

My little brother and I were shopping for birthday cards, graduation cards, and water guns. That's right, water guns. Gotta love going shopping with the seven-year-old midget child.

So, I'm browsing through all the numerous graduation cards: college graduation cards, bad humor graduation cards, graduation cards with the Obamas on them, sappy graduation cards, kindergarten graduation cards, and graduation cards of penguins wearing mortarboards (<<mais pour quoi?>> as our French brethren would say...)...Then, my little brother asked me:

"Why don't they have graduations going into highschool?"

Putting away the graduation card with the cute duckling on it, I responded: "Pardon?"

He explained, "They have graduations going into college, but not going into highschool." And I said, "No, no, dear, graduation is at the end. It's at the end of highschool, and then the end of college."

Then, as our conversation turned to other matters, I let the matter rest. But, then I realized that it's not called "commencement" for nothing. When I was younger, the word commencement always confused me, because I knew there was that-thing-that-happened-at-the-end-of-high-school, called commencement, so I always assumed that commencement meant "the ending." But it means beginning.

Commencement is a time of new beginnings, of fresh starts, of new adventures.

Commencement celebrates the adventures you've already had, your accomplishments and achievements, but it also invites you into a new world, full of new lessons, journeys and a new stage in life. And that, my friends, is something to celebrate.

Mark Twain (an author whose writings I thoroughly detest [sorry, Mark, dear]), has an absolutely beautiful quote: "To get the full value of joy, you must have someone to divide it with." I've been waxing nostalgic the entire weekend, as I've collected photos for photo boards, hugged friends, smiled, laughed and reminisced. And I've been thinking often about the girls who write this blog. And I'm so thankful for them. For their friendships. Because all the tears, giggles, hugs, pie nights, and beautiful experiences would mean nothing without the people we share those adventures with.

The world beyond commencement is a brave new world. But I know we can face it as long as we have our awesome-sauce friends by our sides.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Wonderfully Made

One very comforting thought I've had recently is that God loves the idea of each person. Loves it so much He had to create us.

There's a very special bond between the creator and the created, because when you make a work of art, you pour yourself into it. And there's a certain mark- a trademark, if you will- on your designs, because they take on a bit of your personality. Your creations smack of you-ishness. Take, for example, the different authoresses of this blog. I don't even have to look at the bottom of the post to know who penned the entry. Each of us have our own distinct voice, vocabulary and writing style. It's quite beautiful if you stop to think about it.

So stop.

Think about it.

Now continue reading.

Now, sometimes we'll create a piece of art that doesn't come out quite as we hoped. It's imperfect. Flawed. We wish it would be better-more like the ideal we envisioned in our heads. God, however, only creates perfect works of art. God's idea of, say, Catherine, is perfect. It's a masterpiece-a work of art that shows off, as no other work of His can, some particular aspect of Himself. He formed the idea of her-of Catherine, with her own Catherine-ish qualities and quirks, her idiosyncracies and beauties. He thought of them all; He laughed with joy; and He fell in love. He fell in love so much that He had to create her. That's truly mind-boggling. God loves us so much that He creates us. I don't even understand how that works.

God wants our love. And, (as I feel like we've discussed before on this blog, and as many greater minds have been discussing since time began,) love is a choice. We have to make the choice to love God, or else our "love" is nothing worth. He can't program it into out hearts that we love Him. Love cannot be forced or coerced, it is a gift.

"If a man were to give all the riches of his house for love, It would be utterly despised." Song of Songs 8:7

God's love has breathed us into existence. Our love simply gives ourselves back to Him, since we really belong to Him anyways. The Creator who loves us so infinitely and indesciribably simply wants our love in return. But here's the catch: we've made the horrendous, disastrous, catastrophic, mistake of choosing not to love Him. How absolutely tragic. We only exist because of love, yet we constantly turn our back on Love himself. Imagine how desperate He would be to win our love, to woo us back to Himself.

I opened to my beloved;
but my beloved left; and had gone away.
My heart went out when he spoke.
I looked for him, but I didn’t find him.
I called him, but he didn’t answer.
The watchmen who go about the city found me.
They beat me.
They bruised me.
The keepers of the walls took my cloak away from me.
I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem,
If you find my beloved,
that you tell him that I am faint with love.

And the Word became flesh, and lived and died for us. Because He loved the idea of each person so infinitely that He would stop at nothing to save us. He came up with of the idea of His mother Mary, of Pontius Pilate, of each Roman soldier who scourged Him, of Judas, of everyone of us sinners-of you and me. He thought of us. Every single person who put Christ to death was a precious being that He had thought of, and loved so much that He wanted to create them. We were His idea, and He loved us so much He gave up His life for us.

I found him whom my soul loves.
I held him, and would not let him go,

The moral of the story: God loves you. We hear it so often, but we don't listen to these words. God loves you. He likes you-He wanted to make you! He's not like: "Well, since I'm forced to make someone, I might as well throw together a Becca." He fell in love with each of us so much that He wanted nothing more than to bring us to life, so that we might share in His life. Everything God makes is infinitely and incandescently beautiful, including us. We are a masterpieces, made by the Master Artist.

Behold, you are beautiful, my love.
Behold, you are beautiful.

God loves you.