Some classical musicians question the authorship of Bach's work. A brief, intriguing article. The Missus Was the Maestro

"This book is about life as an improvisatory art," and it's an art I would do well to learn. The first chapter of Mary Catherine Bateson's Composing a Life might as well have been written for my group of friends: female scholars and artists whose life trajectories have been interrupted by marriage, children, the economy.

Bateson brings insights from the lives of five women, as well as commenting on the disciplines of improvisatory art: Jazz, Arabic poetry, Homeric epics--performances that are sensitive to "context, interaction, and response." She's not suggesting some half-baked just-wing-it life. Meaningful improvisation (in art and life) is a discipline--something that can be practiced and achieved.

The following are excerpts from the first chapter (which I have not yet finished). I'm posting them here, because I know at least one other woman who needs this as much as I do.

"I believe that our aesthetic sense, whether in works of art or in lives, has overfocused on the stubborn struggle toward a single goal rather than on the fluid, the protean, the improvisatory. We see achievement as purposeful and monolithic, like the sculpting of a massive tree trunk that has first to be brought from the forest and then shaped by long labor to assert the artist's vision, rather than something crafted from odds and ends, like a patchwork quilt, and lovingly used to warm different nights and bodies."

"There is a pattern deeply rooted in myth and folklore that recurs in biography and may create inappropriate expectations and blur our ability to see the actual shape of lives. Much biography of exceptional people is built around the image of a quest, a journey through a timeless landscape toward an end that is specific, even though it is not fully known. The pursuit of a quest is a pilgrim's progress in which it is essential to resist the transitory contentment of attractive way stations and side roads, in which obstacles are overcome because the goal is visible on the horizon, onward and upward. The end is already apparent in the beginning. The model of an ordinary successful life that is held up for young people is one of early decision and commitment, often to an educational preparation that launches a single rising trajectory. Ambition, we imply, should be focused, and young people worry about whether they are defining their goals and making the right decisions early enough to get on track. You go to medical school and this determines later alternatives, whether you choose prosperity in the suburbs or the more dramatic and exceptional life of discovery and dedication. Graduation is supposed to be followed by the first real job, representing a step on an ascending ladder. We don't expect long answers when we ask children what they want to be when they grow up, any more than we expect a long list of names in response to questions about marriage."

"Goals too clearly defined can become blinkers." We need to "recognize the value in lifetimes of continual redefinition, following the Biblical injunction, 'Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might' (Ecclesiastes 9:10)."

"Many of society's casualties are men and women who assumed they had chosen a path in life and found that it disappeared in the underbrush. . . . [They] defined . . . self in terms of a niche that proved evanescent."

Mary reminds those of us dealing with this "discontinuity" that "even those who continue to wear the same professional label survive only because they have altered what they do. Being effective as a banker or a restauranteur or a general means that one has relearned one's craft more than once."

The rest of the book (as far as I can tell) presents five biographies of the sort Bateson wishes were more common: biographies that focus not on the slavish pursuit of a looming goal, but biographies that revel in the twists and turns of life, that highlight the grace and beauty of successfully remaking the self to fit new circumstances.

The first woman, I see, is Joan. She's in her eighties now, "has three grown-up children and a career that includes several books of her own as well as a complex weave of collaborations with her husband's work, which led Brown University in 1972 to give them simultaneous honorary degrees." But is that what she set out to do? Of course not. She "was trained as a dancer and dance educator, the first of several careers that became subordinated to child bearing and a husband's work."

I'm looking forward to meeting Joan--and all the women that follow.

And a brief excerpt.

The most important reason not to be living in a trailer with Canopy: she was a prophet. He added the "ess" in his mind. Prophet-ess. She even had a business card:
Canopy Bade, Prophetess
prayers, healings, counsel
Messages From God
Crane View Estates, Number 3
Souville, NC
Preacher Canopy, his dad had called her. And then he'd sent his only begotten son to live with the prophet-lady. In a trailer park.
"Give me one good reason not to live with her," his dad had said.
And Aurelius couldn't think of any. Not one. If only his dad had given him time to think. He had plenty of reasons now. Like, "She thinks God talks to her." That seemed to be a pretty good reason.
"She eats Spam." That was another one.

***

Of course, this was the most enlightened bit I wrote all month, and the rest of the novel is absolute hooey. I'm not even going to read it until January 1, at which time I, as creator, reserve the right to label the whole project "irredeemable."

Finally--a way to post all the non-writerly things I do. Thanks for the tag, Will

The rules.
* Let others know who tagged you.
* Post 8 random facts about yourself.
* Post these rules.
* Tag 8 others to continue the meme

1. I am 1/4 Italian by blood, but 100% Italian in the kitchen. I will prove to you this. Though I am a full-time Mom, Senior Editor of a small publishing studio, and a writer of children's books, I have made time in the last two months to learn how to make my own mozzarella cheese, ricotta cheese, pickles, strawberry jam, blackberry jam, crackers, conserva (conserva is to tomato paste what fresh squeezed orange juice is to Sunny Delight), sun dried tomatoes, focaccia, pocket pita, and the absolute best pizza dough I have ever tasted. Just don't ask what the rest of my house looks like. . . .

2. Last month, I was given (given, GIVEN!) a full-size accordion. One misty gray day last month, I stepped out into the minty air and heard strains of an accordion tune lingering in the neighborhood. I have found it difficult to forget that perfect haiku moment, and so, naturally, when Aunt Charlene dropped a casual reference to playing the accordion, I badgered her and badgered her to play us a tune--what better thing could there have been at Grandma's 80th birthday party, with all of the aunts gossiping and the kids laughing and the inventor-cousin in the corner fixing her camera and everywhere, everywhere newspaper clippings and letters from your grandma's long life? You have to admit, accordion music would have been perfect. I insisted too loudly, for soon, all the room was insisting that I be given the "extra" accordion that had "just been sitting around all these years" and passed from one sibling's house to the next. So I played a rather wheezing "Mary had a little lamb" while the inventor-cousin correctly diagnosed the my new Italian accordion's ailments and the baby laughed and grandma looked rosy in the cheeks.

3. These random facts are too long. Here is a short random thing about me: I often I wish I were a svelte African American with afro-able hair

4. And another short thing: I don't use recipes when I cook. But recently I did. It was the best best best egg salad I can ever imagine. The recipe can be found here. If you don't have a mint plant, don't buy the "fresh" packages from the stores (in fact, don't buy ANY spice that way). Usually for half the cost, you can buy the plant itself, with 4 times as many leaves. Transplant to your garden or to a bigger pot if you want to keep the plant growing, or just use up all the leaves as they are, and buy a new plant when the time comes. Spice and herb plants are $2-3 at our local farmers market.

5. Someone asked me in a not-so-nice way, "Are you a tree hugger?" I did not answer. The strange and wonderful truth was seeping into me. I squared my shoulders, lifted my chin, and said, "Yes. Yes, I am." I mean, what else do you call someone who uses cloth diapers because she doesn't want the landfill to pile up with disposables that take (by conservative estimates) EIGHTEEN years to decompose? Who buys most all her food locally grown? Who is slaving away in her 4th garden, even though she has never yet once gotten a really good garden working? (This year, I actually have BIG PLANTS, an essential ingredient for gardens. I'm still working on the produce bit. Five lima beans a day hardly constitutes a harvest.) Who saves every scrap of paper, cardboard, plastic, and aluminum so that she can drive them half-way across town to recycle? Who would rather sweat to nigh-unto-death and arrive at her destination in a cranky, swoony pool than use the gas-guzzling air conditioner in her car? Tree hugger? Oh yeah.

6. In the dark hours of the night, I make up bedtime stories for Benjamin. We've heard the friendship of an elderly Japanese man, the quest of a mythic Asian chipmunk-type rodent, the adventures of many a cricket and spider, and right now we're in the middle of a quiet story of a boy named Rupert Alva Edistow.

7. I sit outside during furious storms. Seeing the trees turned inside out by the rage of the wind gods reminds me: we really are quite small and helpless on this big planet. Terrified, refreshed, and cold, I leave a trail of puddles through the yellow-warm house.

8. My best garage sale find ever: Webster's Third New International Dictionary UNABRIDGED. (You know, the massive tomes they've got in college universities.) Price? $5. I'd take this baby to a desert island. But I'm still holding out for the day I find the Oxford English Dictionary for $5. By the by, if you're looking for a small dictionary that contains more words than just the ones you already know, I found this a few years ago. Perfect for readers, travelers, and visionaries.

**I've been sitting on this post for over a month now, putting off tagging people, so I just decided to go ahead and post and break rule three.

Dr. Seuss turns 103 today.
Milton wore red striped trousers to celebrate.
And he pooped in them ere I could take a photograph.
So now he wears yellow trousers with blue stars.
I suppose he likes Sneeches best of all.
Happy Birthday, Geisel!

Also of note--
The Cat in the Hat turns 50 this year!
Fun, Games, and Info

For those yet unaware . . .
our son, Milton Douglas Young was born February 1.
See some early pics at www.crazydreamers.com

A classroom full of Christian college students gleefully informed my mother-in-law-professor that her new grandson had a famous first name.
She was proud, of course, that they picked up on the association--until one student said,
"You know, like Milton Bradley."
And another said, "Yeah, and there was Milton Hershey."

Chocolate and board games.
Where, oh, where has our education gone?

To hold in hopeful balance
the loving of a man
the rearing of a son
and the writing of books

Katherine tagged me 8 days ago, and I'm just now responding.

Keep reading if you want to see yet another spin on the viral book meme that has infested blogdom. . .

1. One book that changed your life:
(or maybe two . . . please?)
That Hideous Strength by C.S. Lewis
But no fair skipping the first two books in the trilogy. You have to read them all. I find that I'm still thinking about this book a year after I finished my reading of it. It has colored the way I think--in some surprisingly good ways.

Peace Like a River by Leif Enger
This is the book I'm tempted to list as the answer to almost every question that follows. But I will refrain lest you think I've only read one book in my lifetime. Suffice it to say--in the words of the inimitable Larry the Cucumber--"I laughed. I cried. It moved me, Bob."

2. One book that you've read more than once:
The Folk Keeper by Franny Billingsley
It's a children's/ya fiction piece, and I've read it three or four (or five?) times. It's one of those rare modern fantasies that is compelling, believable, and exquisitely written.

3. One book you'd want on a desert island:
(One book? How about an author? Sharon Creech? Leif Enger? Barbara Kingsolver? Lois Lowry? Kate DiCamillo?)
Assuming I've already got my Bible, the next thing I'd grab would be
Merriam-Webster's Third New International Dictionary, Unabridged

4. One book that made you laugh:
Love that Dog by Sharon Creech
Children's/ya novel in poetry. For all you fellow lovers of poetry--take this delightful romp through the eyes of a boy in Miss Stretchberry's class (Room 105). He can't write poetry. He won't. And WHY, exactly, does so much depend upon a bunch of chickens? (Or was it a wheelbarrow?)

5. One book that made you cry:
The Wanderer by Sharon Creech
Yet another children's/ya title--but you won't be sorry you read it, I promise. In case you are worried (as I was), yes, Ms. Creech is aware of the fact that "The Wanderer" is the title of an ancient, ancient poem. I must say, she does the poem justice.

6. One book that you wish had been written:
The book in my head. The pieces are finally there. It's just a matter of time/energy to complete the task.

7. One book you wish had never been written:
Depsite my Miltonic sentiments, I DO actually have books that I think should never have been written. But human nature being what it is, I know that if I post the books here, your curiousity will be aroused. I don't want to risk that.

8. One book you're currently reading:
The Well-Trained Mind: A Guide to Classical Education at Home by Susan Wise Bauer and Jessie Wise
Fascinating and challenging. If you're going to be a parent/are a parent: read it. Even if you never intend to homeschool, you'll find it quite beneficial.

Silver on the Tree by Susan Cooper
The final book in the Dark is Rising Sequence. If you haven't read these yet, do.

Redwall by Brian Jacques
Contrary to popular opinion--don't bother. I've walked away from this book so many times--for weeks, months. Only my overactive sense of obligation to finish a book lures me back for more terrible writing.

Moby Dick by Herman Melville
Contrary to popular opinion--DO bother. Wow. I picked it up as a challenge. And I'm loving every word of it.

9. One book you've been meaning to read:
The Shadow of the Sun by Ryszard Kapuscinski
Pickwick Papers by Charles Dickens

10. Now tag five people!
one
JBo

two
Joy But! As I was writing this, she posted in response to someone else's tag. Someone else, pbth, on you.

three
Hill

four
H.B.K. if I can ever track him down and convince him to play these silly games.

five
my mom

Pregnancy has alerted me to an egregious hole in my private library. I have an entire bookcase of picture books, early readers and chapter books. BUT, I have yet to venture into the slobbery world of board books.

I decided to take immediate action to fill this void.
Really Good, Really Big, Really Cheap Book Sale, here I came and went!

Tongue and cheek I may be at present, but I must admit my self-imposed assignment was much more difficult than I supposed it would be.

1. It's pretty sad when serious self-denial means scolding yourself every few minutes for looking longingly in the general direction of the poetry, fiction, history, drama, art, picture books, anything else but sticky board-book tables.

2. Board books are inane. I love children's lit. Absolutely love it. I write children's books. But after three hours of wading through board books, I can safely say that 99.99% of all board books are inane. There are rare exceptions. Eric Carle is one. Sandra Boynton is not.

Here's what I turned down with mild disgust:

• Movie spin-offs (Abu goes to school, Perdita takes a walk, Simba makes a friend, etc.)


• Cutsie tootsie ties her shoe and loves her mommy, too--and other such sentimental drivel


• Anything that read like my childhood horror: "Stomp Stomp Clump! Stomp Stomp Clump! / Buy some shoes that make you jump! / Walk tiptoe from door to door / Take a peek in the new shoe store!" (and I did see this book there)


• Half-toy mutant books (anything with stickers, puzzle pieces, buttons, musical interludes, gimmicks)


• Bad art


• Books that were quite obviously a money-making venture and nothing more


• Princess _____________________ and the magic ____________. The first blank should contain a role model like "Minnie Mouse"or "Barbie" and the second should contain a useful magic item such as "lipstick" or "red high heels".

Here's what I turned down in anger:

• One hundred and one bowdlerizations of Beatrix Potter
  
  • Simplified text was ok, as long as it was tasteful--which was rare. I read one adaptation of Jemima Puddleduck that actually promoted the poor duck's cannibalistic foolishness!
  
  
  • Sabotaging her ART?? Peter Rabbit in Primary Colors? Peter in Pastel?
  
  
• Disneyfied aberrations of Pooh. Our dear A.A.Milne chose a very capable illustrator (E.H. Shepard). There need be no other.


• Deconstructed fairy tales. Namely those in which Cinderella is portrayed as a poor, miserable, moping soul until the moment she becomes a princess. Whatever happened to the Cinderella who was so beautiful because she was happy as a SERVANT?


• Feminized classics. The Little Engine that Could is now a girl, complete with eyelashes and a whole slew of female engine friends.


• Any other classics which were mooshed, squished, or otherwise transmogrified into the sappy sweet or politically correct.

After three hours (no exaggeration) of sorting through board books, I came away with a whopping 11 books (which took me 1 hour to de-goober and disinfect.)

For those of you who have actually read this far and are curious, here's what I took home:

• 2 Winnie the Pooh books with original illustrations and mostly original text--A.A. Milne really was a genious author.


• 1 Babar book written by Laurent de Brunhoff specifically for this age group. (Translation: no editing done here! Woo-hoo!)


• 3 Beatrix Potter books with original illustrations--done by a group of people who understand that while you can't force a 9 month old to listen to the entire Peter Rabbit story, you can introduce him/her to the characters and settings.


• 1 Photo board book--the only one I have ever seen that avoids the overly sentimental, exhibits a semi-pleasing use of the English language, and does not in any way promote an abundance of expensive toys and gadgets


• 1 very early Eric Carle, brilliant as always.


• 1 Honey Rabbit--a story from my childhood with illustrations that succeed at being both cute and artistic and text that succeeds in telling a coherent, endearing-but-not-too-cutesy story.


• 1 Alphabet book. Actually, it's just the letter W, and it's itsy bitsy. At least our kids will be able to say the important words like "wizard," "wink" and "whisper."


• 1 Cheerios play book--I know this is dangerously close to my commercial money-making ban and my toy book ban. But having seen my sisters play with Cheerios for hours on end, I consider this a $1.00 well spent.

for one little cricket.
It shall be arriving in the cold of February.

Happy Father's Day,
Benjamin

June 5, celebrated two years with my wonderful husband and discovered two useful items during/after the celebratory Asheville trip. Would post pictures, but, camera got left in hotel room :(

1. Hem. Useful thing number one. After 45 minutes of watching/listening, I wanted to stay up all night writing. Bought the cd. Bought the shirt. (We actually went to Asheville hear another group of musicians--Christians who shall remain anonymous, as their performance was, in the words of a friend, "vampy and disgusting" and caused us to lose faith in the music we had loved for so long. BUT. Thankfully, this out-of-nowhere band Hem opened, and we were transported.)

2. The Hipster PDA for organizing my post-Hem writings and crazy schedules (I am almost tempted to ditch my Daytimer . . . almost). I've always been a big fan of 3x5 cards--when I don't use them, I find myself tearing pages out of my journals, recopying sections so that I can keep novels, poetry, picture books in separate, shuffle-able stacks. IF you are a writer, an organizer, a scheduler, a book lover, or a to-do-list-er, click on the DIY Hipster PDA Edition, and drool over the free printable 3x5 templates. (The story development/writing/reading cards are about halfway through the stack.) Ben and I stayed up for 2 hours after we got back printing these crazy things :)

My husband cannot move one of the joints in his thumbs.
And I just found out that CS Lewis had the same bothersome thumbs, same joints.
This calls for a happy Jack snack.
I shall make oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.
And we shall eat them.

Or: Where I Have Been

I realize that I have been putting off blogging until I have time to "catch up" i.e. post about everything that has happened in the last year. But that's got to stop. So here are some snapshots. Not literally, although those will follow shortly...If I can ever figure out how this camera works :) So what have I been up to?

1. Adjusting to Married Life
This entails asking myself (nearly every day) how all those women did it WITHOUT a dishwasher. Laundry. Dates. Travels (Chicago, Colorado, Various and Sundry Mountains). And laundry.

2. Acquiring Fish from Cousin
Moby, Melville, Mona, Clive, Staples, and Uriah Heap
Uriah Heap, a little catfish-type had both his side fins eaten off by a larger fish, so he spends his day snuffling around the bottom of the tank in a most humble manner. He is white and has red eyes.

3. Keeping Fish Alive
Almost. We lost Melville and Clive to the ick.

4. Gardening.
In Clay? I thought I could run the tiller over the ground a couple times and get to work. Ha! Ben and I spent an entire day tilling by hand. Another day planting. On the docket (or in the ground, rather): Vegetables--corn, green beans, cucuzzi (an Italian squash), cherry tomatoes Flowers--daisies, strawflowers, zinnias, tri-colored daisies Plants for Dying--Japanese indigo, coreopsis (a flower), sunflowers. And anybody need a dog kennel? Ours was in the garden, so we're selling it.

5. Writing
My writing partner (who shall remain anonymous as long as she shall so choose) and I have been trying to keep eachother accountable, and trying to get together some stuff to print. I'm also considering doing a serialized novella or play or some such thing on this blog, since I've not been using it much. Is that too weird? To be honest, I've been looking at blogging as a who-can-share-the-niftiest-anecdote (I almost typed antidote. How odd.) But that doesn't have to be true. I've felt that my life has changed so drastically in the past year, that the things that now interest me would be rather dull to the majority of readers. Theater....dishwashing. Theater.....dishwashing. But as God is teaching me, I have found more learning, more growing at my sink, scrubbing the exact same plate I scrubbed yesterday, no, just five hours ago after lunch--more growing than I have ever experienced on the stage. Theater is heady, exciting, fascinating. But dishwashing is service. This transition I have not accepted all that graciously, but now, I think I can write about it.

6. Finding the Coolest Place Ever to Buy Spices.
Grocery store cardamon: $11.95
All-natural food store cardamon: $2.50
and if you want a glass jar to put it in, add on another dollar.

7. Barrista-ing
I've been working part time at a coffee shop. Favorite drink? Ooh. If you can top a chai made from scratch (a coffee shop can't), make mine a vanilla breve.

8. Knitting
I designed and knitted my very first sweater. Pictures to follow soon. I'm knitting hats to sell (had too many requests to keep turning them down).Oh, and I got a spinning wheel (made of pvc pipe and a wheel-chair wheel!) Hence the dying plants in the garden. What's next? Weaving? Someday....

Seriously, though, knitting has been a good opportunity for me. I've joined the local knitting guild and the local sit and stitch. I've gotten to know a lot of wonderful people--and learned a lot in the process.

9. Watching the trees bloom in my backyard

10. AND dut-dut-dut-DUM!
Cutting my hair. 11 inches of it. Gone to the little cancer patients. Whoo do I feel weird.

11. Being a Walking Shrub
This brings me to today, in which many eyebrows were raised as I walked two blocks carrying an armload of freshly cut bamboo (salvaged from a trash pile), complete with bamboo leaves. What shall I make today?

DonnaLynn Hess of BJU faculty says we mustn't pronounce judgment on a book or genre until we have actually READ the book.

Today, after all my berating of romance novels, I actually read one.

AND IT WAS GREAT!

Esio Trot by Roald Dahl

Woo-hoo! Long live Mr. Hoppy, Mrs. Silver, and the tortoise Alfie.
The book is 62 pages long and has large print and pictures on every page. You have no excuse not to read it. And be sure to get the edition that is illustrated by Quentin Blake. (The link is for the hard cover edition, so if you're interested in purchasing, you might want to see the paperback edition.)

DISCLAIMER:
For those of you who do not know me, this post (aside from my recommendation of the brilliant book Esio Trot) has been in jest. I do not recommend the reading of romance novels. Period.

I have now been personally invited,
by mail,
to join the
American Civil Liberties Union.

I have arrived ;)

(to be honest, I'm *almost* tempted)

Two years of blogging
must call for a new design.

Thank you to BigBlueHat
for a new look.

I'm in the continuing process of restructuring a few things here and there, so if something still doesn't work two weeks from now, please let me know. I'm working on new categories (I've converted a year's worth of blogs...the other year is still to be done.) Looking back over two years of my life has been thought-provoking/encouraging. Thank you for your fellowship, your sharpening, your many many comments.

Two more years?
Lord willing.

A medieval costume party.
And Ben needs a costume.
Here's one of the many helpful suggestions.

"He could always buy an old wedding dress, cut it up the front, and go as an elf."

Should you happen to have a more cost-effective (and less embarrassing) medieval costume suggestion, feel free to pass it along.

OK. I can't let this rest.

So maybe,
just maybe
Homer's Achilles
can talk like a
whiny worm man,

but ZEUS?

The Iliad, Book Eight, 1-12 Translated by Michael Reck
(I've cut the mediocre parts, and left you with the "best" of the worst.)

Thunderlord Zeus summoned a meeting...
and delivered the following harangue:
"Listen here, all you gods and goddesses...
none of you gentleman or lady gods
dare go against me--do as I say...
If I should see anyone sneaking off...
I'll smash him with my awful thunderbolt..."

Against Homer and his Iliad.

But Achilles remained in a fury
and roared his rage at lord Agamemnon:
"You big drunkard, you fainthearted swindler,
you don't dare battle beside our people
or go with the commanders to ambush--
for that sort of thing gives you the shivers!
You'd rather stay back in our camp instead
and plunder anyone who disobeys.
Ruthless king, you rule over nobodies..."

Michael Reck's translation of The Iliad, Book One, 223-228.
Somebody do something, please.

My sister Dana
can be challenging.

Not oh-you-are-such-a-pain-to-live-with challenging,
but you-are-doing-so-many-things-and-I-am-not challenging.

She's started a blog, Guarded Grace of a Politician, to help her do more.

The title came from an article about her in the paper.

Hope you don't mind, but I just had to let you know she was out there :)

But I try--a lot.
I have this weird condition.
My head knows my fingers don't make pictures.
But my fingers don't know that.
So I get these irresistable urges to draw something.
And I ususally try.

Don't laugh.

Ben. Attempt the first.

Ok. So maybe you can laugh.

-------

Ben. Attempt the second.

Embarrassing Truth: I danced a little dance. And I cried. Yes. Cried. It's...a big thing for me. "Drawing" was a euphoric term for the little girl me. "If only I could draw..." I know it sounds silly, but it felt like tonight, in a silly little way, on a scrap of manilla paper, I did that. I *drew* I looked, and I thought I saw Benjamin there on that piece of paper. And I put him there. So I danced.

I know many of you are artists. But I couldn't help posting my one itty bitty little doodle. Yeah, I'm a perfectionist, and I can very clearly see that the sketch is pretty bad. But that's the grown-up me, and she doesn't care right now. The little girl inside is very happy with her picture and wants to hang it on the refrigerator....with those jumbo plastic alphabet magnets. And if you give me the whole alphabet, I promise not to spell derogatory names for my little sister this time :)

of the favorite things

1.

2.

3.

Joy asked:
What is your favorite thing about the house?

1. My roommate
I know, that's not what you asked,
but it's true.

2. My new desk
Organized with bookshelves above
and plenty of open spaces beneath
and one lone camel,
wandering through the expanse.

3. The first harvest
Eleven blackberries
and prickles
on my ankles to prove it.

home i am
at last

boxesgiftspackages
everywhere

a little space
i've found
to write

my oldoldold
red school desk
the one from third grade

i still fit (!)

after the nearly hundred
thank you notes are written
(we have so many uber-wonderful friends)

i'll write.
more.
oftener.

no.
i change my mind.

i will write
now.
oftener.

make time now.
help me remember?
help me make time?
maybe ask me questions.
about life.
about anything.
to make me think
and write.

i hope it's ok to ask.
this is no disciplinary excersize;
it is good
(very good it is)
for my body my soul
to write

i need to make time to breathe

but i've never seen the end of it.

speaking of movies,
has anyone seen "Babbette's Feast"?
excellent, excellent
foreign film.

oh, the results.
sorry....

What Classic Movie Are You?.

aware
kokoro
makota

yeah.
so i know my archive system is a
little bit//lotta bit
vague

i need help

what has really worked for you?
and what has really not worked for you?
and what would work for you
on my site?
after all,
archives are more about the reader
than the author.

"Walk on air against your better judgement [sic]."

Seamus Heaney

wow.
that's all i have to say.
it may take a moment to load,
but please, oh, please,
be patient.
it's so worth it.

happy day to you!

"Every major philosophy has taken hold
because of the Storyteller,
and NOT the philospher."

DonnaLynn Hess

"English usage is sometimes more than
mere taste, judgment, and education--
sometimes it's sheer luck,
like getting across the street."

E.B. White

well.
my laptop.
is dead.
or dying.
or temporarily indisposed.
or something.

at any rate.
it's in the clutches of the best buy service techs.
poor thing.
i hope he survives their brutality.
and i hope my blog survives my absence.

whew
whirlwindChristmas"vacation"over.
so sorry i haven't been posting.

i've been moving (like joy)
and working on a website (like ben)
and living (like all of us)

but now.
i am settled quite cozily in my little room on the third floor of siddons.
i am celebrating the rise of a no-bell, no-e-pass life.
and i am eagerly looking around the dusty little attic in my head,
shuffling through the mounds of writing to be done.

what have you been up to?

confession:
i collect off-the-wall postcards
(justification: they inspire my writing, ok?)

so.
i picked up a postcard of this
rather scruffy guy
cut off, T
cross necklace,
dark glasses,
long hair.
but there was something,
something in his stance,
and you had to believe that
he could conquer the world.

and i picked up another postcard.
of a very, very geeky guy.
but something in his
eyes (framed by way-huge-o glasses) said,
"i don't care what you think about me"

so i bought them both.
and brought them home.
only to discover,
that i had purchased
John Lennon
and
Bill Gates.

is this us, or what?

he he he.
www.ubertati.com
that's me.
domain names, anyone?

Fly home to Colorado.
Drive 15 hours to Arizona.
Drive 4 hours to Mexico.
Wait for Dad to get his root canal done.
Drive 4 hours to Arizona.
Have Christmas.
Drive 15 hours to Colorado.
Pack up my entire room/life.
Ben flies out for a week of
frantic wedding planning.
Fly to South Carolina.

So maybe I am a Christmas snob after all,
but Christmas this year has been
hectic, stressful, frustrating, un-restful.
To be quite honest,
I haven't really given much thought at all
to Christ's birth,
or my salvation.

Thank you everybody for praying.
(And thank you Melanie for waiting.)
I just found out this week
that I can't take
novel writing
or
play writing.

I need to go through drop/add when break's over,
and see if I can get into Critical Writing and Article Writing.

I will admit, that my spirit did not rejoice over-much at the news.
But the Lord has been working, teaching, reproving.
And I am eager to see why He has made these changes.

I cannot make much effort
in my small lifetime,
but I am not settling for less.

--Dorothy Heathcote,
pioneer in the fields of classroom drama and holistic education

while 'tis true that i enjoy out-of-the-way carols,
i hardly qualify as a snob... i think.

at least it matches my blog...

You are 'Adam Lay Y Bounden'! Ah, you appear to be
something of a Christmas snob. Whether you are
a musician who has sung one carol service too
many, or merely someone with very highbrow
views on music and culture, you shudder at the
thought of piped music in lifts, wince at
endless repetitions of Jingle Bells and have
put out a contract on Rudolph. While you agree
that some of the well-known carols are lovely,
you are more drawn by the really obscure
medieval carols, or the ones arranged by Bach.
You also know parodies of several carols - a
legacy of excessive carolling, or perhaps just
the product of an enquiring and slighly cynical
mind... Try to enjoy Christmas, anyway.


What Christmas Carol are you?
brought to

you by Quizilla

my first completely relaxing day all semester.

1. sleep in.
2. run to breakfast at the dining common.
3. meet a new family because they're aren't enough chairs.
4. run back to the dorm to get my spare copy of The Magician's Nephew to give to the new family's two boys who love to read but have never read Chronicles of Narnia books.
5. get ready for the day.
6. Barnes and Noble (to return the wrong book they sent me--The Legend of the Poinsettia Tree)--write, dream, relax, peruse, buy new gift to replace stupid Poinsettia book, purchase a couple new inspiration postcards (i collect unusual postcards that inspire me in my writing).
7. Ben's House: watching Wallace and Gromit at present and typing a blog.
8. grilled cheese and tomato soup for lunch.
9. museum and gallery after.
10. dinner and christmas vespers.
11. read a good book.

Here are my tentative classes for next semester:
The Gospels and Acts
Oral Communications for the Professional
Elementary German 1
Poetry Writing
Novel Writing
Play Writing

Please pray that I can get into those last two classes. I haven't taken the prerequisite for Novel Writing, but they will let me in so long as there aren't too many other people signed up for the class. Play Writing is a mess...I took it before they restructured the class, when it taught one act plays. Now it is the only class that covers full length plays, and I really really want/need to take it.
If I can't get into these two classes, I'll be taking Principles of Journalism and Critical Writing, I think--ick. I register Monday, and would appreciate your prayers.

i just realized
that i haven't stopped
to really think
in a few days.
that would explain
the atrophied ubertati.

i saw Alice in Wonderland
in performance hall
this week.

it was uber-good.
Alice was a brunette,
and the music was all-original.

wonderful.
creative.
inspiring.

reminds me of you guys.

i am trying to change some things on the front page....
and seeing as i've never worked with html or css or whatever,
it's wild and crazy,
and i'm making all kinds of glorious messes in the process.
what fun!

in case you've been wondering what kumiko means...

a note on my hiding:
great and wondrous things
have been happening
keeping me busybusybusy
head spinning, heart pounding
will write more
later

and then we shall rejoice together

talk
and cheap food
fellowship
makes the meal

strange voices
and a plate full
alone-ness
squelches the appetite

everybody,
i'd like to introduce
you to katie sherer.
she's my roommate,
totally awesome,
and the newest blogger
on the block

pretty soon,
her blog
"a glimpse....that place"
will soon be manned by three authors,
all very wonderful, too.

around here,
they're called,
"the hobbits"
and they plan
to storm mordor.

read.
encourage.
and enjoy :)

an echo of the soul

ubertati, redone

welcome home, sojourner

desire's
small seedling
grows
into vine,
choking life
until water
be found.

Find out which Chronicles of Narnia book you are.

if i were a book,
here's what i'd be.
surprised?
not me.

young couple
to be married on june 5
seeks photographer.
must be narnian,
living in illinois,
preferably rockford area.
willing to pay top dollar
for chance to meet this person
in breathtaking mountains
of colorado.

interested parties
should contact
kumiko
via the "comments" button.

i explored a patch of moss.
felt the bark of three trees.
communed with our Father.
heard the voice of my Beloved.
saw seventeen people smile.
and it's only just 9:30 am.
the world awaits!

how is your soul today?
-kumiko

words.
right now i lack words.
no.
i lack time.
time to put thoughts
into the many words
swimming in my tired brain.

but that's ok.
someone has unsuspectingly
written my own thoughts
in words i could not find.

i hope you grow through
these words from a friend

I am terribly sorry for my recent absence online.
Traveling has been very busy.
I have been to a library once in the last month,
and that was for a long, much needed play writing session.
(I had fallen far behind my goal for the current script).

Thank you all for your patience!
I'm looking forward to being
a more faithful member
of the blogging community in upcoming days :)

well, it's that time.
i leave tomorrow morning around 5:15 am
and head back to greenville, sc
for the second drama tour.

that's right.
for those of you who didn't know,
the university couldn't train
another team,
so they're sending us out again this summer.
like they say,
it's the first (and maybe last) time
that they've done this.

please keep us in your prayers
as we putter around the west coast
in our bju-mobile.
pray that the Lord will work through us.

so...
until the next time i can get to a library
with free internet access...
adios!

whew.
i'm back from tour.
well, almost.
i'm in greenville.

and...thanks to the wonders of the world wide web-logs :)
my inbox is flooded with notifications of new comments.
particularly those regarding
my questions of Christian drama.

thank you all so much...
i am eager to read all of them
and make a new post soon.
but first, if you'll excuse me,
this tired little chica
needs to take a nap!!

i stumbled upon a happy idea
sent to me in my inbox a while ago.
shall we try it?

"There you stand like a duck in a thunderstorm again--
aren't you ever going to understand?"

W.A. Mozart

walked through the woods
smelled the earth

symphony of birds
punctuated by the stacato of crunching leaves

i rest

Hey, all!
I know...it's been a whole month since I blogged last.
Spank me and take away my birthday.

Right now, I'm sitting at home (!) very much sick, and very much thankful for this unexpected reprieve from my travels. Maybe, if my head clears up enough, I can actually figure out how to set up categories so that all of these blogs are....organized.

I know. I have had comments about the variety of stuff on this site. So....I'm trying to come up with categories to sort them all under.

How about: Story. Thought. Miscellaneous.
Nope. Too boring. Not me. Not....exuberant.
2nd try: Adventures. Wisdom. Tidbits.
Hmmm. No. Too much hype.

Oooh! Got it
kokoro, makoto, aware.

They're all Japanese words that I happily stumbled upon in my study of Haiku.

Kokoro.
The heart and mind of something.
Particularly, me.
This is most often found in my stories.

Aware.
An elegant sadness.
A poignant awareness
of the temporality of life.
Most often found
in my short-line ramblings
and questionings.

Makota.
Sincerity.
Sometimes severly so.
Found in off-the-wall
comments,
and a few of my
harsher short-line ramblings.

So I think I'll post the categories like this (once I figure this contraption out!):

Kokoro: Stories of Life

Aware: Soul-growth

Makoto: Tidbits of Miscellany

Very exuberant.
Very me.
I am content.
Now if only I could sort all of this out!

my beautiful sister.

i don't even know you.
in fact,
i've never seen your face.
but you are precious to me.

why? you ask.

don't you know?
you are my sister.
another One Who Believes.
though miles and oceans
may come between,
Our Saviour
has redeemed us both.
and that makes me smile.

who is this strange girl?
you may be thinking.
well, let me tell you.

i am stephanie.
a simple one.
with simple faith.
but that faith
is grounded
in the most wonderful Lord.

i am stephanie anne.
the dreamer.
who longs to show
the whole world
the breathtaking beauty of
El Shaddai,
God of the Mountains.

i am stephanie anne geter.
the little girl
who is weak.
who knows what it means
to feel pain.
to be bored.
to fail.
to sin.
and to be forgiven,
gloriously forgiven.
to be made new,
to be made to sing again.
to want to dance.

i am steph.
the plain-jane
brown-haired,
brown-eyed,
dark-skinned girl
who (for some crazy reason)
is loved.
by her Saviour.
by her Family.
by her Benjamin.

i am "tennie"
the author of ubertati.
the one who wants to get to know
her sister across the sea.
and wonders if that sister
with the beautiful name
likes the feel of wind in her face.
likes to squish her toes in the grass.
likes to sing at the top of her lungs
for no reason at all.
wonders,
if maybe,
just maybe,
her sister is hurting.
is needing a hug.
and wishing that i could give it to her.

Kayleigh,
Though we've never met, our lives are hid with Christ. May I have the privilege of getting to know you? Not the brushed-up, dressed-up, dolled-up Kayleigh who goes to church and school. But the Kayleigh inside who dreams, and hurts. And fails sometimes, too. Let me know, Dear. I am praying for you. Praying that today, you will taste the goodness of our God. That you will catch His scent as He passes in the wind. That you will REST in His great love for you.

Love,
Stephanie

dreams.
big dreams.
noble dreams
(or so you think).
inspiring,
motivating,
encouraging.

but then
reality hits.

reality.
suddenly,
your dreams
become fuzzy.
others shout,
"don't make us
so uncomfortable
by dreaming
of change."

so you quit.
dreaming.

and go on.
learning to accept.
reality.
it's a foreign place,
this reality.
it's cold.
hard.
not ideal
but real.

and you know.
somehow.
you'll muddle through.

from God's calling on my life?

This week has been yet another season of life when I have failed to do what I know I am called to do--writing.

I am supposed to write (whether that be professionally or not). God has made that very evident in my life. (Another blog, another time). But so often I ignore what I know I am called to do because of what is on my all-consuming schedule. The "important" things--tests, projects, friends-- crowd out my writing. And I am hungry, thirsty, dry. I must write.

Therein lies the blessing of God's calling. When He commands us to do, we are most miserable when we do not. Praise His name for making us so utterly dissatisfied with anything short of His will.

Yes, this is a short blog from Miss Geter. But, she is logging off to go write something.

confident, happy,
satisfied.
i glance into the mirror.
expecting to see the
pristine fascade
i call "christianity."

horrified, i see it
isn't there.
ugly
rancid
putrifying
sin
glares back from
my reflection.
it slices at my pride
to see such
rottenness
in my bones.
how many people
have noticed it
before me?
what will
they think?

a piercing thought.
cripples my spirit.
i have failed my God.
again.
same sin.
always
the same sin.
and i don't even care.
my first thought is
my "christianity,"
my "testimony"
my self
not, my Christ

Father, forgive.
but don't stop there
break that Thou mightest bind
cleanse that i might heal
purge me.
however painful,
destroy
this
flesh.

i walk away from
the mirror.
the world goes on.
i am small.
weak.
scared.
but forgiven
and cleansed!

sharper focus
cleaner air
bluer sky
a purpose in life
once again.

"Teach me to love Thee as Thine angels love: one holy passion filling all my frame. The baptism of the heav'n descended dove. My heart and altar and
Thy love the flame."

ubertati! oo-bur-tah-tee. Hmmm. Interesting. Different. But what on earth does it mean? "Facile remedium est ubertati; sterilio nullo labore." Great. More big words. No definition, even! Who does this girl think she is?
Sorry. I had every intention of explaining all of that in my first Blog, but, well, most often I cannot dictate what I write. I simply write what must be written. So now, I must write ubertati.
The Latin phrase translates, "Exuberance is easily corrected; dullness is incurable." Lovely, isn't it? Just in case you haven't figured out,
ubertati means
exuberance!
That's me.
That's my weblog.
Enjoy.
Or don't.
But either way,
be exuberant about it!