Let Love be the Standard pt2.

On a long drive home from visiting my brother, my mother eloquently summarized her capability to love as standing at heaven’s gate and being able to wholeheartedly say that she loved her husband absolutely and truly. That thought has remained with me through out the years and its only now that I realized that every situation in life is opportunity to love more and not less. To love you and respect your future spouse to do the difficult thing now. To love yourself enough to stand up for what you believe is right. To love your God enough to proclaim and share your faith. To love your brothers and sisters enough to bite your tongue, swallow your pride and think of the greater good. Love is the beautiful challenge. It’ll purify our impurities along the way of life with fire and heat.

Let Love be the Standard pt.1

I’ve made the same wish for as long as I decided to believe in wishes. Every birthday candle. Every long tunnel. Every 11:11 I get to see. I made the wish again this past week (another year older) and I forgot how much I used to believe the whole mystery.

“To know love. Truly and deeply. To let it be the standard unit of measurement to measure life by”

The Sweetness Hereafter

The Sweetness Hereafter (2012)
Walden Grey

1. Sentimentality (key:D)
2. Someone to Care For (key:G)
3. Thought of You Is Good Enough for Me (key:C)
4. Use to think Happiness was… (key:D)
5. Minor Melody, Major feeling (key:D)
6. Song for Unborn (key:D)
7. More than this (Key: A)
8. Belief (Key: Gm/Eb)
9. Held Close (Key: G or F; capo 5)
10. Nothing but you to hold on to (key G)
11. Dreamer (Key E)
12. Shine Through (G)
13. Sunlight Burn (Key: Bm)

Last’s night’s dream; Hotel California

View of lush rolling hills from a high urban vantage point.
Buildings becoming sparse and less frequent as the view heads out to ashy gray rolling hills in distance.
The city by the mouth of the river is a damp assemblage of rust and moss growing on the steel beam structures. The city keeps growing up higher and built up with the discarded parts from cities that have fallen along the way side. You see from afar the street level the silhouette of the walk up high rise building with its unique external steel structure. It is an external staircase built to also block the sun and act as trellis for moss and ivy to grow up along. It is narrowly set off the front exterior wall and its structurally supported by a vertebrae spaced apart at every foot. Its pattern is spaced far enough to catch flicker the silhouette a figure running up its steep incline. When the figure reaches the top of the building, there’s another maze of short hallways and stair wells. The only available lights are from the down the hall’s snaking corners and cracks in the walls unequally spaced as the figure goes up. You step through the doorway and see the small hills and valleys of the feminine figure in front of you. You see the top of her head and see the bare skin edge of her left side between the upper stomach to her hip just catch the sun edge’s from the open door to the veranda on your right. The exterior sun blocker that’s offset from the front exterior wall is of a different pattern than the of the ground floor. The rectangular pyramid holes are smaller and further spaced apart to let less light in. She says, “This must be the best view of the city” and I peering just over her with her head tucked in to crook of my neck and under my chin say to her “yea, it is.”
The sounds of horns and traffic bring you storming into a smoky red velvet lobby. The quiet hush of the doors behind you. There’s a check in-desk towards the right; elevators straight ahead with its gleaming brass doors and steps and front face of crimson/black/taupe marble. The oval bar on the left; low slung lounge chairs along the floor to ceiling glass semi translucent draper wall. Three foot wide sand striped marble columns every twelve feet the front and side exterior wall. There’s an open seat on the left side of you and you lean over and ask the bartender if he’ll make you a drink. You ask if there are any specials drinks he can do. He’s say’s there’s a special if you order two. A dapper man in tux and tails ask you what you’re having, realizing you have little or no money to cover the two drinks you tell the man that you’ll get the next round if he’ll buy this round. He looks curious and eager to have company. The bartender mentions that there’s another coinciding special along with this drink order. The grey hair women behind the bar on your left lifts her head and informs you that you might win a night in the hotel’s mysterious suite, but by the tone of her voice it sounds like few if ever wins. The bartender and her call it a mysterious word you’ve never heard. It sounds like they call it the “tank” but to you it makes no sense. The bartender makes the drinks in his metal shaking can, pours out the drinks, and turns to throw the remaining ice up into the air. You tell the dapper man the if you win, the drinks are still on him but you keep the prize. He gaffs and he agrees. The slow motion of the ice cubes falling hitting the counter top and one finally landing with crystal chime of a cup somewhere on the counter. With more shock and awe than fanfare the old gray haired women hands you the key, and tells you that the bell boy will show you to your room.
He steps outside of the elevator and slides in the key to for a door right next to the ground floor elevator.
The magnetic reader’s light blinks green and the ordinary broom closet door begins to transform going de evolving from broom closet door; heavy wooden carved door, marble door, and then opening up to a black void. There’s no echo or sound you step in….
As you step in you find yourself being rush to bottom of the contestant floor wearing 3-d Glasses of red and blue. Someone is pushing you to every step below in a huge auditorium. You’ve been marched down the steps of stage right for some unknown reason. Inside you think it is because you’ve won this prize but have no idea. In order from tumbling over, you peak over the lenses and by the time you get to the bottom the crowd has turned from cheering you on to booing you. They believe you have cheated, you not being aware of what is going on are escorted back up stage left past master control room. The control room boss stops you to ask you something then realizes something. He asks for the runner girl to strap on a speaker and get ready for the next skit. He explains to everyone that she can be a remote monitor speaker for the actor in the next skit. He looks exactly Garrison Keiler. People are amazed of his brilliance and you’re rushed out of the room and leave the doors…
To go find a television set. It feels like a hospital now.
There’s a television set at the end of the hallway. There’s a banner above promoting the newest drug for stomach pain to me it sounds like menopausal pain but it medical speak. They’re free samples like a bowl from Halloween in the corner room. The elderly are surrounded by the old television set with its rabbit ear antennae and turn dial channel selector. They’re watching their dramas. I look over to my phone.
A friend has made a video montage with motion graphics of a time when we played in the front yard full of snow. “liquidJOY Productions” is juxtaposed on the left jagged line of the slope of a hill and it feels like two friends have collaborated on this project. A dozen teenagers/ young adults with jeans rolled up and boots jump and frolic in the snow. At one part they break out in choreographed dance and the video ends with the group running out of the frame in slow-motion with a backlit setting sun provided sun flares across the front of the screen.
I over hear people singing a melodramatic tune from one of the room next doors. A faceless figureless lady in scrubs on my left says to me “they been here too long”
The room next to the television set is another waiting room with desk chairs and check-in line. The line is 5 people deep and it is not moving. My older male cousin; lawyer/doctor is bent over with pain mentions “even I can’t get an operation done”. But he’s patient and respectful. The nurse comes back and mentions to man in front to that he forgot to fill one of the spaces in the sign-in sheet. I lose it at that moment and hurdle over the counter and demand my cousin get attention he deserves. I mention his name and people seem to scurry as to ascertain that he is a man of great importance and is somehow involved with the ownership of the hospital. A tall shadow falls over me in muscular figure: I see the all capitalized letters of security. I tell him I’ll be sitting on the red curb outside waiting for the arrival of the police. As I’m about to sit down on the red curb of the concrete island of the parking lot, a tall suited bald man from my cousin’s law firm asks, “did you answer any questions?”
“No”
“Good”
He spreads my arms an standing arm’s length away behind me and pulls the pen and crumbled napkin I have in my right hand. I wasn’t aware I had a pen in my hand or a crumbled napkin until he takes it away.
I see the corporate suits walk by with their pets. I became aware sometime ago of the corporate suits who bring their pets into work to win the favors of their boss. First it was small cats, and dogs, but now a red haired man marches diagonally right away from me with what looks like a giant white hamster with red eyes hands feet was too much for me. I’m disgusted to my core. I physically cringe and have that gag reaction in my gut. But then I see that he, the red haired man is greeted by his young boy and young girl. He scoops up his young daughter and the boy eagerly plays with the giant hamster.
She, the blonde with curled hair from earlier in my dream runs up to him and what must be her family. She then sees my confused look and comes up to me and says “I think we need to talk”
I say to her “give me five”
She goes over to her red haired man and whispers in his ears and then follows me up a fire escape ladder on the mounted on the side of the wall and through a small opening and its peak. There’s a cobble stone alleyway and it starts to feel like we just stepped behind a fake wall of a movie set.
She says “I have to choose between the two”
I realized that she has already chosen. She says a few more things but she’s already sounds distant to me. I turn to my left wall dark in her shadow and it transitions i to the silhouette of the building from earlier.
Something is falling from and flickering between its positive and negative spacing of diagonal lines and rectangular shapes and pattern of the external structure. There’s a rhythm and visual effect and you’re entranced by its symmetry and pattern. You squint from a far to see the falling shape but can’t determine its identity.

You’re now aware that the exterior trellis acts also a safety cage from objects falling and hitting the street.

No sound, no image of the fallen object

Screen cuts to the figure of the man looking down with his right hands open from the top room from before.

valentine’s day

As much as of a romantic I think I am, and as much of a creative as I think I am, I am still lost when sending flowers. I’ve sent the wrong flowers, supposedly non-fragrant flowers and have actually even gotten a complaint about my flower choice from its recipient (although in hindsight that maybe the fault of the recipient rather than the sender). Flowers in some sense never really did work out as meaningful way to express my appreciation and thought until now. I have found a good florist. I described my need and budget and the florist in turn, asked about her personality and created an arrangement to match. I realized when sending flowers its important to find a local florist and spend as much as you can afford. Plus, its even better when its for the right person who just happens to be an amazing photographer as well~

“There are no wrong flowers to give; Only wrong people to give flowers to.” – w.s.

thankfully I’ve found the right one.

First Impressions – Pt. 1 – Just Met

Somewhere along the night, you guys hit it off. The music is loud. The room is dark. Intimately you’re yelling in each others ears, breaching personal space with light touches because you sincerely want to get to know that person. You’re curious to know and anxious to know if theres anything to pursue or simply if there’s anything you should just start running away from. Moments later you may discover at last, you’ve drawn connections from within the highlights of similar childhood upbringings and common interests and somehow deducted that; Fact 1, you guys most likely your paths would’ve probably crossed in the future; Fact 2; meeting now is just a matter of convenience and this will be just saving time and money in the long run. So you just go with it. You run the course of the night, say what you want to say, and do what you can get away with because here and now you are the most perfect version of who you want to be rather than who you really are. Not because you want to be misleading, or deceitful but because whether we know it or not, whether we choose to or not, we try to perserving our pride by try and failing in this caricature of us. Because its too hard to present ourselves as the half-to-the-whole, not yet complete person that we are and rather hide behind the vain glory of a good time. Secretly aren’t we all looking for the one who’ll complete us? We are, whether we like or it not. We might just be to smug to admit it. When we meet these people, don’t we try sell them the future they want to be a part of? Don’t we manipulate universal hopes and longings? Aren’t we the ones who sell the stardust that glazes over daydreaming eyes?

Cherish the first impression and remember all its details sincerely,
Because only the fortunate get a second chance

the single man

“Bullshit, You’re not over your ex,” she says. I sit back in my wood and dark brown enameled metal chair shaded by the beige square umbrella from the saturday midday sun slowly but still taken aback. I respond slowly, defensively. I tell her something along the lines of,  ”I think I’m over her.” (pause) “but don’t we alway carry some of our past? Afterall we shared so many memories and won’t that always stay with us? At least in some part?” In my mind, I’m thinking, here I am on this lunch date and she can see that. How in the world am I supposed to move past it when to some the sign, “NOT DATE-ABLE” are so clearly stamped on my face. But those words are what I needed to hear. I know she responded but I’ve already forgetten what she said. I know I was too absorbed in my own self-doubt. I know I have my own set of issues. She’s calls me out and says I’m broody. I don’t contest because I know she’s right. I dwell upon everything and lose myself in my moments both here and past. What kind of world is that to sell someone to be apart of? Who could live with that? I’m realizing that I’ve got a lot of maturing to do. I know the destination but not exactly sure how to get there by which way. Opptimistically, if one doesn’t work out I make the u-turn and head back and start again. Although each time the distance from where I start again to the starting point is that much further away. Thereby by error my total distance needed to travel to my destination is becoming shorter.Right now at 28 years old, I’m sure that the roads will take me somewhere else and hopefully it will take me to where I’m supposed to be. Each road is a new journey although the motion feels the same at first. It’s hard to start up again. You have to look for new landmarks and venture out to places that might not have tried. You have to prepare yourself differently from what you’ve learned already. I just know when the sun is on your back and there’s nothing but miles upon miles of open road, and when you can clearly see where you want to go, there’s gonna be nothing holding me back and i’ll go as far and as fast you can.