ahh yes.

i had a sudden revelation. it is probably the superior coffee in spain which stimulates my creative writing ability. having been saturated with slightly subpar coffee over the last while has affected my blogging ability. here i was feeling guilty about it and all the while it hasn't been my fault. some would maybe refer to this as blame-shifting but i prefer to think of it as a chance for people to browse the archives and remember all that we have been through together. and maybe watch those music videos one more time.

so again, till the coffee starts to flow...

holiday

i've been in the us of a for the last 5 weeks. that is my excuse for the slow moving content on this blog. i am due to head back to spanishland in about a week. with that should hopefully come an uptick in the material posted. and an uptick in inspiration.

till then...

fire ball

there once was an ancient game. called fireball. literally it consisted of a ball, lighted on fire. today there is still this game. and yes, it is played with a ball, on fire. real flames, real heat, only for real men. that's right. i don't know what they used back in the day, but hoy en dia, we use a tennis ball, soaked in a liquid of choice. our liquid of choice was gasoline. some say that diesel works even better. guess we'll just have to try it for ourselves.

then a flame is touched to the ball and whoooooooosh. you have fire. and ball. fireball. the apex of the heat is right at the beginning and so the first toss is always hot. (try and remember to wipe the gasoline off your hand before lighting or picking the ball up...)

the fire ball is then tossed from person to person, lighting up the night sky. sometimes it lasts for a few minutes, other times less. sometimes we use the same ball a couple of times. creativity is a must. (as well as a cameraman, or woman... thanks mom)

there are very few consequences to this fun game. sure one must bear a bit of heat but its really nothing. you end up smelling of smoke and gasoline. and by the end, all those little hairs on the back of you hand, well they are singed. (if there are any left) just be sure to not let the lighted ball roll into your garage and underneath your cars!! let the games begin!


Let's make fire!


If it gets cold, just gather around the flames.




Fire a little too close.





Ike's hand on fire.


My hand on fire.


More fire.

all the way my savior leads me.

continuing the trend- lyrics i like. i heard this hymn today and it was amazing it was written by Fanny Crosby a long time ago. rich mullins did a version. its short though. someone should do a longer version with some serious instrumentals and momentum changes. just a thought.



All the way my Savior leads me;
What have I to ask beside?
Can I doubt His tender mercy,
Who through life has been my Guide?
Heav’nly peace, divinest comfort,
Here by faith in Him to dwell!
For I know, whate’er befall me,
Jesus doeth all things well;
For I know, whate’er befall me,
Jesus doeth all things well.

All the way my Savior leads me,
Cheers each winding path I tread;
Gives me grace for every trial,
Feeds me with the living Bread.
Though my weary steps may falter,
And my soul athirst may be,
Gushing from the Rock before me,
Lo! A spring of joy I see;
Gushing from the Rock before me,
Lo! A spring of joy I see.

All the way my Savior leads me
O the fullness of His love!
Perfect rest to me is promised
In my Father’s house above.
When my spirit, clothed immortal,
Wings its flight to realms of day
This my song through endless ages—
Jesus led me all the way;
This my song through endless ages—
Jesus led me all the way.

sound of silence - english lyrics

The sound of silence,
that which I don’t want to hear,
is that cold night,
that which I want to avoid-
the discovered feeling
when the sun will come and burn me.
Why keep laughing,
when I feel that you aren’t there.
Why desire the seas
if my boat will only sink.
Why keep on living
if far off is where you are.

My strengths are quickly fading,
my dawn is ready to break.
Another day in silence
the one that just passed by…
Pass and they pass the minutes
in my dark loneliness.
Solitude that feeds itself
on the silence of your mouth.
That mouth that smiles
pronouncing my name like so.
That name you gave me
saying that yes my love
it’s my love, in you it waits
and always will wait.
It’s your love that condemns me
to this eternal freedom.
And even though a thousand silences go by…

I know that soon you will speak…
I know that soon you will speak…

The sound of silence,
where I know you will listen
to the whisper of my song
to the shout of my call
the calling of my soul
asking your freedom.
I want to continue laughing,
even though the cry is here,
though my boat is sinking,
I know that I will be able to swim.
The current of this river
will take me to your love.

You are my fortress,
mi shield and spear.
You are all that I have,
when I feel that you aren’t there.
You are my company
in this dark loneliness.
Loneliness that feeds itself
on the silence of your mouth.

Come back, come back the moment
of hearing you in your silence.
Come back, come back the moment
of hearing you in your silence.

Loneliness that feeds itself,
on the silence of your mouth.
That mouth that smiles
pronouncing my name like so…
I know that soon you will speak to me…
I know that soon you will speak to me…

sonido del silencio video

el sonido del silencio

“El sonido del silencio”
por Alex Campos

El sonido del silencio,
el que no quiero escuchar,
es aquella noche fria,
la que quiero evitar
el sentirme descubierto
cuando el sol me quemará

Para qué seguir riendo,
cuando siento que no estás
para qué quiero los mares,
si mi barco se hundirá
para qué seguir viviendo,
si a lo lejos tú estás.

Que las fuerzas se me agotan,
mi alba está por comenzar
Otro día en silencio
el que acaba de pasar…
Pasa y pasan los minutos
en mi oscura soledad
Soledad que se alimenta
del silencio de tu boca
Esa boca que sonríe,
pronunciando así mi nombre
Aquel nombre que me diste,
diciendo que sí mi amor
Es mi amor que en ti espera
y que siempre esperará,
Es tu amor que me condena
a esta eterna libertad
y aunque pasen mil silencios

Pronto sé que me hablarás…
pronto sé que me hablarás…

El sonido del silencio,
donde sé que escucharás
el susurro de mi canto
y el grito de mi llamar
el llamado de mi alma
pidiendo tu libertad
Yo quiero seguir riendo,
aunque el llanto aquí está,
aunque el barco se me hunda,
sé que yo podré nadar…
la corriente de este río
a tu amor me llevará.

Tú eres mi fortaleza,
mi escudo y mi lanza
Eres todo lo que tengo,
cuando siento que no estás
Eres tú mi compañía
en esta oscura soledad…
Soledad que se alimenta,
del silencio de tu boca…

Vuelve, vuelve el momento
de escucharte en tu silencio
Vuelve, vuelve el momento
de escucharte en tu silencio

Soledad que se alimenta,
del silencio de tu boca
Esa boca que sonríe,
pronunciando así mi nombre…
Pronto sé que me hablarás…
pronto sé que me hablarás…

snow patrol vids.

big fan of this band.

Life and death

I once read a book that talked about life and death. The point it made, or at least the point the author was making was that one always goes with the other, in both the literal and the figurative. You cannot have one without the other. Something of that has stuck with me ever since then.

Life is a series of stages. We pass through them one by one, occasionally skipping something until we arrive at the end. But that is jumping ahead.

We are born. We consist of eating and sleeping. Then slowly but steadily we transition into a rational being in which we consist of thinking and feeling. We maintain that level for a good number of years until the slow but steady transition back to a being that consists of eating and sleeping becomes more apparent and then we die.

Death is a rather large topic in and of itself but nevertheless, when one stops to ponder one's own death, the thought usually is a bit foreign. Other people's deaths can seem more imminent or real, but just as sure as theirs is yours and mine. There must be many stages in coming to grips with one's own death as life passes by. Not to do with terminal illness's or anything of the sort, but rather the normal, everyday, simple act of death that awaits me in X number of years. For instance, the thought of one's own death at 17 cannot be remotely similar to the same thought 20 years later and again 20 years after that. As I sat in a funeral the other day I found myself thinking of my own and how I would like it to be. Then it literally hit me that I won't be around for it. The realization was again, foreign. I have been involved in, present and participating in nearly everything to do with me in my life so far. That particular day however, I won't be. I realized that I don't dwell on it very often but that does not diminish the reality. All of that really to say that the concept of our own personal moving on is not one which we often let enter our thoughts.

Each stage deals with life and death. Each involves the death of certain parts and the birthing of others. More often than not, one does not pass into the new until they pass through the dying of the old. It is true with interests, relationships, behavior, thoughts, dreams and so on. They walk hand in hand, this life and death.

Just look back on your own life and the significant points and changes that you have walked through. How many occurred without something else, relatively major, dying some sort of figurative death?



What I am about to say is slightly scary. Scary because I am young, I could be wrong, or even more that I am writing truth and have no idea what it is to suffer it in it's entirety and all its consequences...
Death just might be something to embrace. And not to fear. For perhaps the main difference between the two companions, life and death, is that one is eternal and the other is slowly dying. And when that marked day dawns, that will be where the two companions separate, one will step into eternity and the other will take its final journey.

That day still awaits a different day's dawn and so the two companions continue to await each of us. Each is a reminder of the other. By embracing them both we step into freedom. Freedom to pass through one to have the other. Both in this life and the next. No one said it was easy. But maybe those who understand a little about death are the one's who understand the most about life. I'm not sure about that but it makes me wonder. Going even farther, maybe it's when both are embraced together that they are experienced as they really are and as they really should be.

Revelation 21 comes to my mind. It talks about Death dying.

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away..." To him who is thirsty I will give to drink without cost from the spring of the water of life.

So while everyone's eternal journey starts with both companions mentioned in the title, it is those who drink of the water, that soon only walk with the one.

and then i find this one- En Vivo

Rayando el Sol Unplugged - Maná

hot days at work

burning sun has been blazing down on me the last few days. it penetrates beneath my skin and heats from the inside. and leaves me crispified on the outside. it drains my energy and parches my throat. i drink water, walk away and am thirsty again. so i drink again. and then i am like a log floating in a water. waterlogged.

i move sluggishly about, still carrying a thirst. classic rock bellows forth from the trucks positioned about. a new song starts. "TRIVIA" someone yells, and while the song sounds familiar i can't spit out who it is. and neither can i spit period, because my mouth is like cotton again.

i've got concrete splashes all over my clothes, dirt in my shoes, and a lack of water in my system. but its all good, cause i'm at work.