the kids aren't alright

His parents loved to argue. Well, maybe they didn't love to, but they sure had gotten a lot of practice at it. He must have learned a lot about arguing from them. When he was little, he would join in, just so they wouldn't be alone in the company of yelling and tears. He would scream until his little voice went hoarse and cry until his little eyes refused to release tears. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't. Sometimes they would stop fighting for a while and tell him that it wasn't his fault, that he was more important than whatever they were disagreeing upon. Sometimes they wouldn't. The two big voices and one little voice screaming in unison was quite a cacophony to behold. Once in a while, a smashed glass or a hole in the wall would bring a night's exertion to a close. He wondered what the neighbors thought, or if they cared at all. As he grew older, he learned to retreat when the voices rose, like his younger brother had always done. Sometimes, he thought that his brother learned things faster than him. Closed doors and television muffled most of the noise, but he would still cry to himself until silence blanketed the night. Stay together for the kids, they deserve a normal childhood.

It was different during college. Better, maybe. Being a little further away helped. His parents seemed to get along better. Maybe they had more space to figure things out. Teenagers around the house are stressful after all. Still, empty nest syndrome led to many phone calls and frequent weekend visits. Once every few months, though, he would open the door to a tension so thick that he could suffocate in it. They would pretend that everything was fine. They would go out to lunch and ask how classes were going, about dorm life. Smile, with honey in their voices. But their stiff interaction and dead eyes gave them away as plain as day. It wasn't fine. He wanted to scream. Sometimes he did. "Stop pretending!" It was worse than the yelling and crying. At least that stuff was real. Now they were just camouflaging their wounds with mud. Smile for the kids, they aren't home that much anymore.

He doesn't want to hide anymore. He never did. He still prefers to stand in the middle of the highway until traffic dies down or crushes him. On the worst days, he thinks he'd rather be crushed. At least he wouldn't have to worry about the tornado just around the bend, waiting to tear things apart. But anything is better than pretending. Pretending is building a castle in the sand. Pretending is putting on a thicker jacket and thinking you are bulletproof. No one wants to pretend, but dodging bullets is tiring. It's easier to close the door, turn on the television, and pretend that all is right with the world. He still curls up and cries silently to himself until silence blankets the night. Pull it together for the kids, you're the grown up now.

fireworks

I just bought a pro account of flickr :)

Here's some stuff from the weekend. Never took fireworks shots before, but I think these turned out pretty well...kinda hard work though heh.

View the full set slideshow!

couple randoms

1. Two nights ago I was awoken in the middle of the night by a loud voice telling me to step out with my hands up. I was very confused for a minute until I got my wits about me and noticed the red and blue flashing lights outside. Turns out a police chase ended right outside my window and a standoff was going down. Dude didn't wanna get out of his truck. Cops had their guns drawn and their commands blaring through the PA. Standoff lasted about 15 minutes. I couldn't go back to sleep so I snapped some pics.


2. Yesterday, there was some traffic on the 405, so I took surface streets. Sitting next to a dumpster along a back alley shortcut, a familiar shape caught my eye. I slowed down for a closer look, and sure enough, it was a guitar amplifier, a head like the ones that sit on top of massive speaker cabinets you see at concerts, vacuum tubes in place and all. I thought it might be a good future project or at least an interesting piece of junk, so I grabbed it and too it home. Thing must weigh 50 pounds. Dusty and full of cobwebs, I fully expected this child of the 80s to blow up when plugged in. After some speaker pops and fiddling, darn thing powers up! Sounds bloody good too! Not sure what to do with it, it's definitely loud enough to get me in trouble...

It's a Laney AOR Pro Lead 100 if anyone cares

paper cd case

Need to mail a CD or DVD?
Envelopes and bubble mailers are expensive.
Just origami it.

Mailed a photo DVD this way yesterday.
I hope it gets there safely...

[via]

seize

maybe God works in seasons
and this winter He has made
you a snowfall covering dead branches

even if spring must come to melt
you away, know that you have helped
make coldness bearable

sigh...

...life is frustrating. All the worse when one has to face the music alone.
Well...not alone, but yeah....alone.

the mountain of fear and the mountain of joy

You have not come to a mountain that can be touched and that is burning with fire; to darkness, gloom and storm; to a trumpet blast or to such a voice speaking words that those who heard it begged that no further word be spoken to them, because they could not bear what was commanded; "If even an animal touches the mountain, it must be stoned." The sight was so terrifying that Moses said, "I am trembling with fear."

But you have come to Mount Zion, to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem. You have come to thousands upon thousands of angels in joyful assembly, to the church of the firstborn, whose names are written in heaven. You have come to God, the Judge of all, to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, to Jesus the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel.

-Hebrews 12:18-24, TNIV

longish term project

On a recent road trip, my friend's iPod queued up some music that I had recorded with some friends a few years ago. We recorded it on my equipment but I had never gotten a copy of the CD. The raw files are still on my computer, but I don't have the software to listen to it anymore. I had actually completely forgotten about it, but hearing it again sparked a tiny flame of motivation in me.

I have been half heatedly dredging up some of the better stuff I've written over the last couple years with the intention of doing more serious recordings. A good chunk of that stuff has appeared on this blog as quick webcam videos. It's going alright, but I go back and forth between being pleased with a track and hating my singing voice. Recording and mixing are very time intensive processes that tends to bring out the critical perfectionist in me. We'll see how it goes, but I'm hoping to have a CD full of material finished eventually. Fingers crossed.

living together

"We thank God for giving us brethren who live by His call, by His forgiveness, by His promise. We do not complain of what God does not give us; we rather thank God for what He does give us daily. And is not what has been given us enough: brothers, who will go on living with us through sin and need under the blessing of His grace? Is the divine gift of Christian fellowship anything less than this, any day, even the most difficult and distressing day? Even when sin and misunderstanding burden the communal life, is not the sinning brother still a brother, with whom I, too, stand under the Word of Christ? Will not his sin be a constant occasion for me to give thanks that both of us may live in the forgiving love of God in Jesus Christ? Thus the very hour of disillusionment with my brother becomes incomparably salutary, because it so thoroughly teaches me that neither of us can ever live by our own words and deeds, but only by that one Word and Deed which really binds us together- the forgiveness of sins in Jesus Christ."

-Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together

may your voice

May your voice cry bodily out of my chest
May your tears fill my eyes for your children oppressed
May your feet carry me 'till I come to your rest
May your light illumine my inky darkness

I was led to the garden, I knelt there and wept
And I shook like a leaf in a rainstorm
And I heaved my sin up
Against your forgiveness
For who am I but a seed amongst thorns

It caught on the cross in whose shadow I crept
Come quickly, Lord Jesus, I long for your rest

-Isaac Watters