Friday, February 23, 2007


One last thought for the day. I just want to make a tribute to Moleskines. I bought one yesterday with a Borders gift card that RTS gave me for being so cool. Ah yes, my little Moleskine. If you don't have a Moleskine, ask yourself this question: Why not use the same legendary little notebook that artists and thinkers for the past two centuries have used? Just think. You could be like Van Gogh, Picasso, Ernest Hemingway or even Bruce Chatwin. In an age where real quality writing has been sacrificed to the gods of media for the masses, blogs, and sound bites, there is nothing like an overpriced notebook to compel you to at least put some time into your pointless dabbling. I prefer the pocket reporter squared notebook. Fits neatly in my back pocket.

Say no evil

My Wednesday mornings are usually spent at Panera. Nothing beats bottomless coffee mugs and that loud beeping noise from the bread oven. Jonny, my English friend, is there as well. We usually have a nice conversation then turn to studies; things of higher import. While I was in line, I noticed on the girl in front of me a little smudge of grey matter across her forehead. Before opening my mouth to say that which I thought ("Hey, you've got something all over your face!") I should have looked around the store and noticed that most people were in like manner adorned and then I might have remembered that certain religious persuasions deface their face for piety's sake on this day each year. Therefore, in a similar manner, in order to enter into the rigors of true religiosity, I also entered into a lent observance. No I did not give up diet coke. Rather I chose to forgo the use of my voice. But this actually did not spring from my own will. Rather my will was conformed by a divine interjection that rendered me speechless in the manner of Zacharias, or as some might say, a slight case of laryngitis. Whichever it was, the time of silent observance has been beneficial to me, beneficial enough to account for an entire 40 days of self denial in a mere 4. I have learned my lesson...I need to shut up more.

This is a shot of Maggs and me at a Mae concert. This was a while back, but I thought it worth throwing up here, if not for any other reason but to post a picture of my beautiful wife. The concert was good too; all of the the last two songs that we were on time for.

Monday, February 19, 2007

The Sacrifice, by George Herbert

Started reading this poem this morning while being absent minded in class. Here are a few of my favorite stanzas. Click here to read this work in entirety.

Meditating on the cross and this poem struck me
as very poignant in its portrayal of Christ
on the "tree of life to all, but only me."

And now wearie of sport, glad to ingrosse

All spite in one, counting my life their losse,
They carrie me to my most bitter crosse:
Was ever grief like mine?
O all ye who passe by, behold and see;
Man stole the fruit, but I must climbe the tree;
The tree of life to all, but onely me:
Was ever grief like mine?
Lo, here I hang, charg’d with a world of sinne,
The greater world o’ th’ two; for that came in
By words, but this by sorrow I must win:
Was ever grief like mine?
Such sorrow as, if sinfull man could feel,
Or feel his part, he would not cease to kneel.
Till all were melted, though he were all steel:
Was ever grief like mine?
But, O my God, my God! why leav’st thou me,
The sonne, in whom thou dost delight to be?
My God, my God ------
Never was grief like mine.
Shame tears my soul, my bodie many a wound;
Sharp nails pierce this, but sharper that confound;
Reproches, which are free, while I am bound.
Was ever grief like mine?

Nay, after death their spite shall further go;
For they will pierce my side, I full well know;
That as sinne came, so Sacraments might flow:
Was ever grief like mine?
But now I die; now all is finished.
My wo, mans weal:and now I bow my head.
Onely let others say, when I am dead,
Never was grief like mine.

Thursday, February 15, 2007

Happy Valentine's Day! We spent ours picnicking in the courtyard beside the Rollins College Chapel, where we were married this past summer. We sat in the chilly night air, under a clear sky, beside a little fountain that seranaded us with its spashing. I love my romantic husband. "Vide cor meum."

One of the greatest joys in my life at present (since we have no children or pets) is the Amaryllis blooming on our kitchen table. My dear friend, Alison, sent this to me as a bulb for Christmas, and it has been a little in-house miracle to watch it grow up into the gorgeous red flower it is now. From nothing but a dirt-covered bulb and a 1 inch shoot of straight, green leaves, this thing has sprung up into a four blossomed shoot of near perfection, and now it has another stalk ready to bloom in the next few days or so. It is a blessing in winter to be able to watch things grow, in their own timing, of their own accord, with nothing but a few drops of water and a little sunlight...Praise Him.

"He said, 'Son, can you play me a melody? I'm not really sure how it goes. But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete, when I wore a younger man's clothes."

This past weekend, one of my most beloved students gave us four tickets to the Billy Joel Concert on Saturday night in Orlando! Jonathan and I brought our friends, Ashleigh and Hutch, to the concert. Billy is, hands down, the best performer I've ever seen live. His band was awesome, as was our favorite roady, "Chainsaw" who performed, "Highway to Hell." Some other favorites we heard include: "We Didn't Start the Fire," "Big Shot," "River of Dreams," "Only The Good Die Young," "Keeping the Faith," "Moving Out," "Always a Woman to Me," and more. For the encore, he played "Piano Man." And who better to share our time with than the Garmanys!? Great concert, great evening, great weekend--"I have been a fool for lesser things..."