One Heart, One Hope

Sweet dreams love. 

Pipes and Whistles

I spent part of this evening watching one of my favorite movies from when I was a kid: The Secret of Roan Inish. It's set in Ireland during the forties or thereabouts, following the story of a girl and the history of her family, which is a strange blend of fact and myth. I love it. Especially the music that comes from this movie. All of it, as far as I am aware, was composed by Mason Daring, but I can't say for sure if any of the music is traditional. Here are a few of my favorite tracks:

Fiona's Walk

Fiona Explores

Return to Roan Inish

Fiona

The Roan Inish Theme

And here's the trailer for the film, if anyone's interested:

One More Backward Glance/Ramblings

Sometimes, I feel absolutely capable of finding my way. The certainty is brief, fleeting, but it's a wonderful moment, like when I find a new and exciting job oppurtunity (like being a Library Tech at Crater Lake National Park). And somehow the possibilities of my future that range out in front of me in those swift moments are endless, but at the same time they're not terrifying (as they usually are to me), they're achieveable. But only for a moment. The assurance, the absolute certainty disappears.

This week, I have been down in the dumps to an alarming degree, believing myself to be incompetent, worthless, and filled with regret, all the usual symptoms. And I still feel all of those things, of course. It's always in the back of my mind, a lifelong habit; I'm always looking backwards.  And I'll admit that last year, 2011, was the worst year of my life. Despite how difficult it was for me to get through, it is very, very hard to let go of all the things that happened, or, even worse, what could have happened. Regrets are such awful, taunting demons. But I'm working on it.

I feel like I'm in limbo right now. A state of transition. Except I'm not helping myself move forward. I put so much of myself into the last few years (ironically) and now that all of that is gone, I feel I don't have a center. And I don't. Religion is something I hardly ever think about anymore. and I wish I could explain why, but I hate debates. I don't want to end up alone, but I can't seem to grow. And I like being on my own, most of the time. A million things hold me back. The possibility of any hope seems impossible, it always has. Except for those brief, brief moments of certainty that I can't explain.

It's awful of me to tell myself that I am a blackhole, that I take in all light and cannot give any of it back. It is awful to think. But I am a detached person and don't give much. I used to think I was such a good listener when I was a kid, but I have learned over the years that I am not. That I live too much inside myself, that I am thoughtless, and that I am constantly on the defense, to a point that's even hurtful. I like to say it's because of my dad, it's because of the environment I was raised in, as if I didn't have a choice now, even after all these years since my parents' divorce. But I do have to choice, a choice to not let my instinctual reactions take over, to not panic over something so small, to not recoil at a certain tone, to not instinctual judge on such small gestures and expressions. I do this, all the time. It will probably take the rest of my life, maybe not even then, but I know I have to work on it.

Wow, I am rambling, aren't I? The point is this: Even though I feel aimless, directionless, even a bit lifeless right now, deep down I know I'm not. I feel like I've buried myself alive and don't really know how to live a a life anymore, but it isn't a hopeless situation, I have to keep telling myself that. It doesn't help, not having the structure of school or a steady job; it makes me feel like I have no purpose. But I'm on the hunt for a new drive. I have to force myself to look up now. And it's going to be one of the hardest things I'll ever have to do.

Some of My Great Loves

Well, it's Valentine's Day, the day of celebrating love and all types of relationships. This year, I choose to celebrate my love of music, particularly classical music, an area I sometimes neglect. It's a one-sided relationship, I suppose, but I don't care.

Beethoven! I will never deny it--his brooding pieces get me down in a very good way. The first clip is from a movie titled Immortal Beloved, a drama based on Beethoven's life. Jump to 0:46.

And, one of my FAVORITES of his, Beethoven's Symphony 7 Movement 2.  Just listen to that slow boil.

Mozart's Requiem: Rex Tremendae. I'm going to see all Mozart's Requiem IN CONCERT with Mom, Kjersite, and Kelli in May and I'm so excited!

Rachmaninoff's Prelude Op 23 No. 5

Tchaikovsky's Serenade for Strings in C Major

Mahler's Symphony 5, Adagietto. Deny this piece, I DARE you. 

Samuel Barber (American composer!), Adagio for Strings. Another glory.

And the vocal version, Agnus Dei, which I think I like even better, somehow.





Of course, not every beautiful piece involving an orchestra HAS to be from centuries ago by a "classical" composer. I have a bit of an obsession with soundtracks, especially this one. Schindler's List by John Williams. 

Hope you've enjoyed this! Of course, there are only a million more things I wish I could share. But this will do for today. Happy Valentine's Day! 

Parks and Recreation

A few reasons why I love Ron Swanson and this show:

And some Leslie Knope:



And DJ Roomba



Twixt Firelight and Water

I hate that the book industry is going down. I understand how the new technology is convenient, maybe even practical in some cases, but to the true book lover, how on earth could anyone possibly relinquish the feel of a book, the smell and rustle of its pages, the physical object itself? I feel like I'm looking at screens all the time as it is, and I never want to read an entire book from a screen, even if it is altered to not affect the eyes.

Because of this shift in the industry, this short story shown above is completely inaccessible to me.  Because this story is part of an Australian anthology, it is only accessible as an E-book. Libraries don't have it here in the U.S. It is BEYOND frustrating. But I still refuse to buy a Kindle, even if I never find out what happened in Ciaran's past, a character who is one of the true enigmas in Marillier's work.

P.S. Yes, yes, I know I could order the whole anthology from Australia, so it's not completely inaccessible, but I'm too proud for that just now. Grrrrrrrr.

Hole in a Balloon

Back in December, I put up a post on my brother-in-law's brother, Keith Gravley. He's back in the hospital, has been for several days. At first, they thought it was pneumonia, but it turns out that his main left artery in his heart is not working very well and it is because of this that fluid is building up in his lungs. The doctors have tried a few different things, but they have said this morning that the only option left, after waiting a day or two to see if Keith's body can manage to get rid of the fluid, is to open up his chest in a very risky surgery as his other arteries are still healing from the last surgery and other complications. I don't have all the details, but that is where it stands. The doctors have tried everything except this last option. My sister, Julie, says it doesn't look good at all, that her husband and in-laws are all freaking out. This is such an awful thing to happen--Keith is only 27 years old. Of course, they knew after the last surgery that they weren't out of the woods, and probably never would be, but this is so soon.

Here's a new find that Nikki posted on Facebook, a cover of a song by The Smiths. I love, love, love slow songs that build up like this.

Align, Alight, Infinite

It's funny how memories and emotions can be tied to one particular song. You can forget it all, not think about it for months, years, and then the song comes on and it all rushes back as fresh and as real as that time had once been. As if you were suddenly placed in that moment again, that it was the present again, not the past.

This is one of those songs for me.

Night Owl

Well, Kjerstie and Kelli left about fifteen minutes ago (after dinner and 3 hours of playing games--so fun!) and my parents went to bed right after they left-- 9:30pm. It's just me in my room for the next 6 hours because, as usual, I've turned into a creature of the night. This always happens when I don't have any place to be in the morning...or afternoon...but I've never experienced this in the winter, so it feels like I never see the sun. Which is stupid. I shouldn't be doing this, but I'm too passive and lazy to make an effort right now. Why do I NOT have obligations during normal human hours? I'm too embarrased to answer that one right now.

So. This week, I've been working like a maniac on revamping my mother's old family photo albums that are attached to acidic paper that she made back in the early 1980's. I finished three albums in six days, while listening to lectures from The Teaching Company on the operas of Mozart and a basic, but long introduction to astronomy. I've put in almost twenty hours with that one and I'm still not halfway through!!

I'm still not consistent whatsoever with running, but when I do get myself out of bed and outside, I never regret it. It is so beautiful here with the trees and the quiet roads. I love it, love it, love it. Just gotta keep working on it.

My step-dad went out and bought me another bookcase today, which I put together on my own! First time I've ever done that, being one of the baby siblings that was always "in the way." Feeling pretty good about that stud of a bookcase standing there. And I really needed one! I had somehow managed to cram every single book and dvd onto the other bookcase in this room, but everything was in piles and in layers. And what's pathetic is that I HAVE gone through my books and dvd's, several times, to see if I was willing to part with any of them. HAH! I've given away a handful. I'm not ready to say good-bye to these beauties.

Right. As far as reading goes, I've been completely ignoring my reading list that I made up a few months ago. Instead, I've been reading Harry Potter and a novel on Mary, Queen of Scots, and occasionally I'll drop both of those to go breeze through one of the books I loved when I was a kid, and still love. I'll tackle the somewhat difficult but absolutely amazing Virgina Woolf another day.

Tomorrow, Nikki is driving Keith, her boyfriend, to the airport, which is only 45 minutes from here. Currently, she is living in Bellingham, which is about three hours away. And since she was already planning to come down on Monday to help my oldest sister, Kjerstie, build a chicken coop, she's going to stay over the weekend! And. We. Are. Going. Hiking!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Not sure where, exactly, there are a million options here in this state, but we'll figure it out when Mom can have her say on the distance. Nikki and I are hoping we can do ten miles.

Well, that's my life as of late. Back to Hogwarts! Pip pip!

Every Day

It would be nice if I could shake this off, if I could stop dreaming about it almost every night. Why can't I let this go? It doesn't even feel like any of it ever happened.  It drags me down the minute I turn out the lights at night, it drags me down when I wake up in the morning. And every moment inbetween when I'm not distracted.

It's been too long. And I'm so tired.