Tag Archives: Art

You Are Time

Imagine you know you’re part of an army but you don’t know who your allies are. You know you’ve got enemies, but you don’t exactly know who they are. For all you know, they’re invisible. They’re often smarter than you, and they’re masters of trickery. It’s dark, you’re tired, and you know your side is losing. You start to wonder if resistance is futile. Eventually it really starts to seem that way. Then something drastically changes. Defeat seems inevitable until a new ally suddenly appears. He fights valiantly and he teaches you his ways. He heals your allies and defeats innumerable enemies.

Then, once again, something changes. He warns that it is only a matter of time before his death, but your victory. He is captured, tortured, and killed, and you are forced to fall back, but miraculously, just days later, he is alive and your enemies vanquished. He was right, and he celebrates your victory with you because now that enemy you faced is conquered for good. He eventually says that he has to go, but he will send his spirit so he can always love you and guide you and help you, and he keeps his promise.

Centuries go by until it seems that the whole world knows him, or appears to know of him. He is glorified in acts of heroism that mirror his own. He is honored in acts of love and goodness. Fantastic works of af art are created by those who love him still. You find, nonetheless, that things inevitably change. Slowly but surely, in many places he is forgotten; in many places is made into a laughing stock; even his very name is dishonored, thrown into the mire of language with unutterable words.

And you ask, “what does it matter? What is a name?” A name is how you are known. You are known by your name as a writer or a thinker or a worker or a finder, or something else that makes you who you are. He is a hero, still here, still living, and his very identity is used as a curse. His name has weight; it is precious.

Who Are You?

One day this past weekend I hung out with a twelve-year-old kid who lives on our street. He was playing in his driveway with his six-year-old brother and their five-year-old friend. I was going for a walk and I heard U2 playing. The two little kids left after a little while, and one thing led to another. The kid in question plays, as far as I know, four different instruments, and is a much better guitarist than I am. He also knows how to use protools, which is an audio engineering software that professionals use. I can’t decide if it’s laughable or annoying or scary or what. Anyway, we had fun. He’s a really polite, pretty mature kid, for his age. After the little kids left I actually scurried back to my house and got my guitar so we could mess around for a while. I have no rules about who I’ll hang out with, as long as they’re cool.

I didn’t used to be like that. When I was in high school especially, I hated kids. I don’t think that’s an understatement. Kids were annoying and stupid, and that was it. Of course, at that time, a “kid” was anyone under the age of eight. Now I refer to the high school freshmen I teach as “kids.” It’s kind of disturbing. I think I used to have a much higher view of myself. I used to think I was the queen of the universe. It was entirely undignified to associate with such plebeians as children.

I think I understand kids better now as a writer, too. Kids are much more willing to believe things, so long as their capacity to listen holds up. I think you have to be able to believe something in order to enjoy it. You have to be able to pretend, and be willing to enter into a different universe.

A friend of mine who is older with kids once asked me what I thought about allowing his kids to read the Harry Potter books. He’s Christian, and he wasn’t totally inclined to let them because magic is seen as the highest power, and the battle between good and evil is entirely up to human ability. There is no mention of any kind of God (though the Christian holidays are mentioned offhandedly), and though there is a general sense of morality, like in any fantasy story, it isn’t directly spelled out. For example, I’m re-reading the series now, and I’m actually surprised at just how much the characters lie. Ultimately I advised my friend to let his kids read the books because it’s simply another universe that isn’t governed by the same rules as this one.

As I reread the Harry Potter books, I find myself laughing a lot. I’ve seen the movies a thousand times, but they’re not nearly as good as the books, and I’m finding they cut out a lot of humor. Maybe my sense of humor has changed too, but I think the movies tried to make the story too dark in places where it didn’t need to be, and not dark enough where it’s really creepy. I’m excited because I’m almost halfway through the fourth one now, and it’s after this one that things get serious, and in my opinion, the series gets more cohesive from book to book.

I don’t want this to turn into an analysis of the Harry Potter series, so I’ll make my point. I like these books. They’re meant for a younger audience, but I don’t care. My dad taught me a rule when I was in high school, and I have faithfully lived by it: growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional. I used to get thoroughly annoyed with myself when I did something embarrassing. I used to think I was so dignified. I have no idea why. I’ve gotten used to the fact that I’m clumsy and silly. I spell things wrong and say ridiculous things. I make dumb mistakes. My friends laugh at me about this stuff, and that’s okay.

Mistakes are part of life. Messing up is part of life. Silliness is part of life, and being wrong is part of life. I’m writing this down because kids used to annoy me for the same reasons that my friends laugh at me (not in a mean way). In the past several months my mom and I have been listening to audio books in the car. We started doing mostly contemporary realistic fiction and moved, really by accident, into science fiction. We went for a few weeks without a story because I know she’s not a huge fan of sci-fi, and we couldn’t think of what to listen to. Finally I suggested The Brothers Karamazov. We just started it yesterday.

My point is that it’s okay to love Dostoevski and Rowling. It’s okay that my favorite foods are fancy pasta dishes and fried buffalo chicken wraps (for the record, yes, I also eat healthy food). I’m getting comfortable joining in events at my church where most other people are at least in their fifties, and hanging out with kids on my street who are under ten. The teenagers I teach think I’m kind of weird, which is probably at least a little true, but that’s okay. Lately I’m becoming more comfortable in my own skin. Weird is more fun, anyway.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Continued…

In my last three posts I talked about my hope to be a consecrated virgin. Things are moving as they should be. I’ve been praying a lot and looking into better ways to pray. I met with the vocations director this past Friday. She was nice and gave me good advice. She told me the most important thing to do was to find a spiritual director who will help me figure things out, and to slow the heck down.

Yesterday I helped teach eighth graders about death, which was kind of hard, not because I find the subject depressing or awkward, but because they do. We had to talk about heaven and hell and purgatory, and I guess it’s just a lot for fourteen year old kids to digest. I also finally told Father Patrick about what I’ve been thinking about, so now everyone who needs to know does know–that being my parents, the two priests at my church, and the people who are helping me along. Also, one of my friends knows, but I don’t think I should tell anyone else until I know more what I’m doing.

Anyway, my mosaic still isn’t finished. These things take more time than one might think. I keep reassessing it every time I work on it, which I guess is normal for every art project. I added a design piece, and I have a few to alter. The bottom half of the background is just about finished. The reason it’s taking so long is because I have a lot of small parts in the design that are hard to work around. I’ve also started working on an idea for my next project.

I’m actually hoping to make several mosaics that share a common theme: Who is God? This mosaic is symbolizing the moment of creation: God is our Creator, so the actual design is an abstract representation of the Big Bang, but there’s parts of the design that are meant to show that the Universe was created out of love, and there’s parts of the design that are meant to show that even at this moment, God knows there’s sadness to come.

My next mosaic is going to show God as Savior. I haven’t worked out the design yet, but I think I have to show that to save us, he had to be a victim, a conqueror, and a friend. In this case, I actually do think friendship is the most accurate way to describe it. I’ve got an idea of the materials I want to use, but I think I’m not going to know how to design it until I have the pieces.

My third mosaic is going to represent God as Guide through this life. I have absolutely no idea how I’ll design that one. Probably what I’ll do is look at some motifs from the New Testament, play around with some of my own ideas, and take it from there. I could also use some stuff from other stories I know. I think I’ll also want to use brighter colors for this one because for the mosaic I’m working on now, I’m using somewhat dark materials. That’s actually why I’m replacing a bit of the material I have on this one. The red glass I’m using is too dark, so I got some slightly more orange stuff at the store.

I gave up TV and movies for Lent. It’s actually been fun, and I’m learning a lot. I’m rereading the Harry Potter books, as well as some spiritual stuff, and I started working on a new song. My mom went out, and my dad went to bed early the other night, and I realized just how much time we waste watching TV. A week ago, Tuesday, My friend and I watched more of Once Upon A Time. He freaked out when I told him about my TV fast. What I didn’t know, and what my Godmother informed me of, is that you can break the fast on Sundays, so we’ll just have to make that work until Lent is over. Yesterday I did watch the second half of a documentary called “Everything and Nothing.” It was so confusing that when it was finished I had to take a two-hour nap. I did watch a few hours of Once Upon A Time with my friend last night, too, but I’m being a good puppy.

Incidentally, Easter falls on April sixteenth this year, but my family always goes to the Easter Vigil the night before. My birthday is April fifteenth, which means I’ll be celebrating Christs’ resurrection on my birthday, which is ludicrously epic.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Day 3

I’ve had an interesting day so far. It technically started before the sun came up. I couldn’t sleep last night, so I lay in bed and made up a weird story for an hour and a half or so. It wasn’t bad for bored-at-two-in-the-morning. I remember a lot of it, but I don’t think I’ll bother writing it down. I think it’ll be my secret insomnia story.

I got up around 10:15 because I was supposed to come up with the lesson plan for today’s CCD class yesterday, which doesn’t take long, but I forgot, so I needed to have time to do that plus eat lunch. That all got done and the lesson itself went swimmingly, although I think I occasionally get a little too complicated for my nine-year-old students. When I was a kid I hated CCD. It wasn’t taught well. I just want them to know Jesus. I definitely didn’t know him when I was a kid.

After my lesson I came home and assessed my mosaic. My dad and I got a lot done last night, and I realized I just need to glue one more design piece down before starting on the background, which is going to be all black tiles. It was cool to realize that I now know how to complete the puzzle. We ended up talking a bit about mosaics in class today because, surprisingly, most of the kids didn’t know what they were. One of the kids asked me what mine looks like. I told him it currently looks like a mess.

I didn’t have a whole lot of time to do mosaic things, though, because I had to get upstairs before Kathy came over. She was super nice and cool and kind of reminded me of our family friend who lives in Florida. What she told me was so reassuring. I, Katie Curtis, can become a consecrated virgin. I still have a lot of thinking to do, but I’m pretty sure this is exactly what I want, and there’s nothing getting in my way that I can see. She said the next thing I should do is read a document on this vocation that’s provided online and meet with the director of vocations in Boston.

The most helpful thing she said, though was that, while I’m working through all of this, I can say that I’m dating Jesus. It sounds weird, but I’ve been wanting to be able to say that for a long time. I’ve loved him for a long time in a way that has felt more than friendship, and I haven’t known what to call it. It was just this weird in-between thing. I think I’m right. Everything is telling me that I’m right. It’s kind of ridiculous. Right now I’m listening to very weird music that I’m not sure I even really like, and I haven’t got anything done on my Mythology today, but I don’t even care. I’m in a stupidly good mood.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Yup…

Today I got up and my mom said since it’s Valentine’s Day she’d take me out to lunch. I just wanted take-out, but since she offered I agreed, to be polite. Unfortunately we had an appointment, and therefore, didn’t have enough time to eat a sit-down lunch, but I got my buffalo chicken wrap. It’s my favorite thing in the world, but it’s super unhealthy, so I’m careful not to give into my craving too often.

After our appointment, Seamus (my bird) desperately wanted to go for a ride in the car, so we took him to the Starbucks drive-through with us. Several of the employees there know who he is by now. There are plenty of people who drive through with their dogs, but I think we’re the only bird family. Plus my best friend works there, so I’m sure she’s told them all how actually nasty he is. He doesn’t like people aren’t part of his flock. He just looks cute from a distance.

I got some more of my mosaic done last night. I’m thinking I’m going to need a lighter shade of blue or maybe teal. right now I’m working with black, white, red, and blue. My dad was helping me and he was perplexed at what I was doing last night because I was kind of haphazardly putting pieces down. I’ve been trying to tell him that I’ve had a concept in my head, not a complete, perfected picture. As I get more done, though, I get more of an idea of what it’s “supposed” to be.

Kathy (the woman I mentioned in my previous post) did end up getting back to me. We’re going to meet at my house tomorrow. I don’t know why I’m nervous. I guess part of it might be that although the idea isn’t exactly new to me, I’ve been kind of skirting around it and now I’m finally taking the plunge. There’s also the annoying thought in the back of my mind: “What if I’m wrong?” There are really two ways of looking at it. God calls everyone. I know that, so either I just need to shut that doubt out for good, or if I am wrong, it means I need to figure out what he actually is calling me to.

Last night I came across this: “Every word we speak was taught to us by God’s Spirit, not by human wisdom. And this same Spirit helps us teach spiritual things to spiritual people. That’s why only someone who has God’s Spirit can understand spiritual blessings. Anyone who doesn’t have God’s Spirit thinks these blessings are foolish.” (1 Cor 2:13-14 CEV) Admittedly, there are times when I find myself thinking about things Jesus says or does, in the Gospels and throughout time, and I think, “Lord, that’s crazy. You’re crazy. I’m crazy. All of this is crazy.” This quote that I found last night just made it make a bit more sense.

Anyway, I have a bird to harass and art to make.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Valentine’s Day

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. Earlier I found myself almost reverting back to my automatic bitterness about it, which is obviously silly. I love it when people are in love. I have turned into a sucker for corn. It’s kind of pathetic, actually. I’m not lonely anymore. I haven’t been for a long time. I have no reason for disliking Valentine’s Day, other than bad memories from when I was in high school and the first couple years of college.

I got my sleep schedule out of wack again because my friend was over and we stayed up late last night. Luckily, I think I still got some good stuff written on my Mythology today. That project is still a baby, so it’s a little early to be thinking about a title, but I kind of can’t help my mind reaching in that direction. I can’t just keep calling it “My Mythology.” I’m taking a bit of a break from that right now. I’m going to stay up late again tonight, so I’ll work on that some more once my family has gone to bed. I’d like to work on my mosaic with my dad. I started it yesterday, and I think it’s going to look great.

It’s interesting to think about working with broken glass as an art form. It seems kind of counter-intuitive. How could all these broken pieces turn into something so nice? I just like to pick each piece up and hold it and look at it and put it exactly where I want it, and even if I have a picture in mind, the pieces may not fit exactly how I want them, so I have to rework my idea very slightly, or I have to reshape the pieces, and sometimes the misshapen pieces inspire me to come up with something better than what I originally had planned anyway.

I’ve been waiting to hear back from a woman who I was in touch with a while ago because she is a consecrated virgin. We were thinking about meeting the day after tomorrow. I haven’t heard back from her, and earlier today I had kind of a funny thought. I thought, “She’s probably been planning something for Valentine’s Day.” Then it occurred to me that she’s not married. Then it occurred to me that, actually, she is–just not to a “regular” man.

I was sitting in my kitchen, looking out the window, maybe drinking coffee or something and thinking about the whole thing the other day. As part of the ceremony, like in a “regular” wedding, a woman gets a ring, and I realized I want that. At the same time I found myself asking, “Am I allowed to want that?” And then of course I realized that was a stupid question. I think sometimes, in fact, probably more often than not, God wants me to be bolder than I am. Wanting to be that close to God could never be a bad thing.

So tonight and tomorrow I’ll write and pray like I always do, and I’ll work on my mosaic like any other day, and I’ll probably watch 24 with my dad. We do that, too. It’s not very warm and fuzzy corny, but my bird is warm and fuzzy. Anyway, my mom was going to make heart shaped chocolate chipped cookies for my CCD students on Wednesday. It’s a day late, but who cares.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Life Stuff

I haven’t posted in just about a month. I really haven’t been up to very much, but at the same time, it kind of feels like I’ve been making subtle changes. I recently joined a Catholic writer’s group. We might go to a conference in April. I was in a writer’s group last year, but I was the only member under the age of forty, and we ended up talking about other peoples’ work more than our own. It just wasn’t a good fit. The members of this new group are all my age, and it’s much more focused on sharing original work. I think it’ll be a good motivator. I’ve felt kind of less motivated to work on my mythology lately, but I have still realistically been getting a decent amount finished.

My dad and I have also decided we’re going to start making mosaics. When I made my first one for my friend’s Christmas present I thought it would be tedious, but it was really just relaxing. I’m going to make a bigger one to put in our basement, unless my mom vetoes it. Otherwise I’ll just put it in my room. It’s hard to explain in words, but it’s going to be Big Bang image from a loving and intentional creation standpoint. When it’s finished I’ll post a picture.

Next month my family is meeting my godparents’ family and a family friend/honorary aunt for a few days in Florida. I think most of the trip is going to be spent hanging out by a pool, which I’m really okay with. It’s been cold here. I’m sick of cold. As far as I know we’ll also go to Universal for a couple of days and we’re doing an escape room at some point. I’ve never done an escape room before. Since we have eight people with us, we’re going to do two different rooms. I wanted my brother on my team, but my mom claimed him. I guess she can do that. I’m going to have my godparents and my dad on my team, though, and they’re very smart. I’m just nervous because I’m not always great at puzzles.

Eons ago I wrote about how I felt God was calling me to formally dedicate myself to him in the Catholic Church. I avoided it for a long time because the idea was freaking me out, but I’ve started really feeling this weird pull that I can’t exactly describe, but I know it has to do with that, and I’m not afraid anymore. I know I said before that I wasn’t afraid, but this time I won’t chicken out. I’m forcing myself not to chicken out. Otherwise this feeling will drive me crazy. Plus, if it’s from God, it can only be good, anyway.

Anyway, this post is admittedly a means of procrastination, at least partly. At the same time, this, along with my more personal journal, is a means of emptying my brain so I can be more focused on my fantasy work. I’m twenty three and I still feel like I have to make excuses for not doing my homework or something. High school scarred me for life.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

A Shared Story

When my mom and I got back to our neighborhood from running errands, my friend was outside his house, so I had my mom drop me there. We hung out in his yard for a little while, and then we went for a wander. Somehow we ended up talking about Mythic Island. It had nothing to do with what I’ve posted over the past few days, but by the time we got back to our neighborhood we had decided to go back. We used to play Mythic Island with a huge group of friends, but we’ve decided to keep it between the two of us. We’re going to treat it both as a story and as a real, significant world, as if it really does exist. After every adventure we’re going to talk about what happened and record our conversations so we can post it as a podcast.

This got me thinking. When we played Mythic Island, we treated it as real. We would bring things from this world into that world and vise-versa. We agreed that it would probably be a bad idea to allow things from that world to come into this one. This is really just for logistical reasons. We want to be able to shut the game off, as it were. We didn’t close the door to this world when we were in middle school, so we would often see dragons flying around on the highway and such.

For weeks now I’ve been trying to get my friends together to play through a D&D campaign I’ve been working on. We just can’t seem to get everyone together at the same time. I suspect I will be in charge of coming up with a lot of the Mythic Island story because I have more time, and I think I can use a lot of the same ideas. I’ll probably have to alter the plot quite a bit because my friend and I are largely coming up with the new chapter of the story together, and we’re basing it off of where we left off about ten years ago. Can you feel the nostalgia?

The idea of my D&D campaign was that several hundred years before the characters even come in, there was an epic war. The children of two brothers who were very prominent nobles became the rulers of two opposed kingdoms, and at one point, one of the kids killed his uncle. His father cursed him and created the Darkness. That kid’s soul was then tied to the Darkness and was not allowed to die. The ultimate goal of the campaign was to first find out that there is something more abstract called the Light, and then to find out that there is a soul tied to the Light. Once they learned this, the goal of the campaign would be to find the soul of the Light. That soul would then lead you on a mission to either destroy the Darkness along with the soul that is attached to it, or to convince the soul of the Darkness to befriend the Light, thus destroying the Darkness, but not the soul.

Of course I’m over-thinking the whole thing. I think the idea of playing a story instead of simply writing it is strange to me. When we played Mythic Island as middle school kids it was only natural. It’s like it’s foreign to me now because I haven’t done it for so long. I’m going to have to get used to it again.

We stopped playing this when we went to high school. That year I took an acting class, and I felt like I was terrible at it. I guess I never equated playing the story with acting, and if I had, I still don’t know how I would have graded myself. Granted, in that case I was playing myself in an imagined situation. D&D definitely has an aspect of role-playing, but we really don’t try very hard at it. We spend a lot of time just trying to figure out what the heck we’re supposed to be doing. I think the Mythic Island scenario will be interesting because we’re the Dungeon Masters as well as the players.

When we played it as kids we spent a lot of time running from the bad guys. We made our own lives difficult, but that made the game more fun. We know what’s going on in Mythic Island now, and once again, we’re intentionally making our lives difficult. The battles will be harder, and the bad guys will be scarier because we’re older, more sophisticated, and more creative. Of course this also means our solutions to problems and our schemes will be more complex. I’ve been wanting to do this and I’ve been trying to talk my friends into it for a year now. I’m so happy we’re going to be doing it.

I’m still going back and forth a little on how I feel about keeping it between the two of us. At one point in time we had a small army of friends with us. At the same time, we were the most invested in the story, and sometimes our other friends didn’t take it seriously enough. The nice thing about it is that this friend and I don’t often hang out without other people any more. The truth is, we really don’t have that much in common other than our shared obsession with Star Wars and our history with Mythic Island. The game started with just the two of us anyway. I don’t think it’s at all a coincidence that I started thinking about this more, lately.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Landmarks

I’ve had a busy summer thus far. I’ll be going camping in a few weeks, which is crazy because camping always kind of marked the end of vacation when I was in school. Time has changed since I graduated. I’m not exactly sure how to explain it. It’s just different. One of my friends is also done with school and he’s living and working back at home, just a few houses away. One of my other friends is still in school, and she’ll be starting up again come September. My other friend is (I guess) working for his cousin or something. My two guy friends, along with my brother, are my D&D chums. My brother will be back at school shortly after camping, so we’ll see how that goes.

I’ve took a bit of a break from working on my book for the past few weeks for a few reasons. Part of it is that it’s summer, and we’ve just had a lot of company at my house. Part of it is that I’ve had a serious bout of writer’s block for a while. Part of it is that my friends are home, Pokemon Go is a thing, and they constantly want to hang out, which I really don’t see as a problem. Part of it is that I’ve been trying to figure out what God wants me to “do,” so I’ve been trying to spend more time with him. I actually think it’s all worked out for the best. My dad and I have been watching a lot of movies lately. At the moment, we’re into conspiracy theory and post-apocalypse stories, and that’s helping. I got a new idea for my book that I think will move my story forward.

What I also figured out, which probably should have been obvious, is that I need to always be at least one step ahead of my characters. Part 1 of my book was significantly easier to write because I had “landmarks” planned out that would get them to Part 2. I didn’t have to get from A to Z. I just had to get from A to B to C, and fill in the details along the way. Part 2 has been harder because, for a long time, I didn’t even know how the book was going to end. Last night, I figured out at least one new “landmark,” which I think will be exceedingly helpful, and I think it will help me figure out what other “landmarks” I need.

Looking at life in the present tense, most things look like a series of happy accidents, but looking back, I see landmarks. Last night I discovered a new one. A while ago I wrote about wanting to belong only to God. Although I haven’t written much about it, I was seriously considering becoming a Consecrated Virgin, but every time I seriously thought about it, it felt wrong. I think this was the case because it sounded very much like I would be subject to the will of the Church (i.e. the will of the Bishop of the Diocese of Boston), and not to the will of God. I would like to make it clear that I like the Catholic Church. For the most part, I trust the Catholic Church. At the same time, there are things I don’t entirely agree with, and I know that the Catholic Church, while mostly good, is mostly led by fallible men.

For a long time, I’ve felt like I’m not very good at praying. At least, I’m not always super comfortable when praying. At the same time, I didn’t want to just use “scripted” prayers, because that felt like removing myself from the conversation. Very recently I found this prayer:

Oh, Sacred Heart of Jesus, to you I consecrate and offer up my person and my life, my actions, trials, and sufferings, that my entire being may only exist to love, honor, and glorify you, This is my irrevocable will, to belong entirely to you, and to do all for your love, renouncing with my whole heart all that can displease you. I take you, Oh Sacred Heart, for the sole object of my love, the protection of my life, the pledge of my salvation, the strength for my weakness and faultiness, the reparation for all the imperfections of my life, and my secure refuge at the hour of my death. Most Merciful Heart, be my justification before God your Father, and shield me from his anger, which I have rightly merited. I fear from my own weakness and malice, but placing my entire confidence in you, Heart of Love, I hope from your infinite goodness. Annihilate in me all that can displease or repel you. Imprint your pure love so deeply in my heart that I may never forget you or be separated from you. I beg you, through your infinite goodness, grant that my name be engraved on your heart, for in this I place all my happiness and all my glory, to live and to die as one of your devoted servants.

As I read this for the first time, I prayed it. It sunk in immediately. This is not the original version. The version I found was written in “ye olde” English. I’ve changed words here and there to make it more personal, without changing the meaning. I think the process was a kind of prayer in itself. Whenever I thought of it, and had enough time, for the past few months, I’ve been looking into how to pray better. One thing that has been emphasized over and over in various contexts is that prayer is a conversation, and therefore, it’s important to listen. I’m getting better at that.

I also came across an argument, which I think is valid, that the Lord’s prayer is a formula for all prayers. The pastor (who was not Catholic) explained that Jesus’ formula was this: Praise, Repent, Ask, Yield (i.e. listen). Admittedly, at least the way I know it, I don’t think Jesus’ prayer is exactly set up like this, but I’ve been loosely following the formula, and I think my version of it works. I use a “scripted” prayer of praise that I wrote, then I do an Act of Contrition, then I say the prayer I wrote out above, then sort of a general prayer for the world, that I wrote, and by that point, I’m ready to “freestyle” it, and more importantly, I’m much more ready to listen.

Honestly, while I do feel like I at least kind of know how to listen at this point, I still can’t say that I’m good at it. One thing that I have learned that’s very important when it comes to prayer is to just sit still. The funny thing is, I learned this from my bird. I was picking a fight with Seamus the other day, partly just to be a pest, but partly because I wanted him to snuggle, and he bit me. I said, “Just sit still and let me love you.” I think this is often exactly what God is trying to say to us. Quite frankly, it’s hard to sit still. Even if I’m physically sitting still, my mind is often going a mile a minute. It’s probably different for every person, but I think it’s absolutely necessary to figure out how to “let him love you.”

I said that I’ve been trying to figure out what God wants me to “do.” I’ve been waiting for him to give me something specific, but I don’t think he’s going to. I found that Sacred Heart prayer by accident, but I think I was meant to find it. That prayer was a landmark. Over the past several years, there have been things he’s “told” me to do: be a bridge; tell the truth; be still, and know that I am God.” What’s more is that I’ve got ideas or written songs that have seemed to come out of nowhere. These, too, I see as landmarks; gifts that God has given me. They’re not mine. In a way, I’m able to draw a map of my life. Some landmarks are obvious; points in time that I can easily identify, like when I graduated high school, or when I released my album. These obvious things don’t define me, though.

It wasn’t until yesterday that I looked up the actual definition of “consecrate” because it was always just sort of implied. To consecrate is to dedicate to a deity, or to make sacred. It was by a happy accident that I found the Sacred Heart prayer, but it was exactly what I needed to find. When I found it, I didn’t think about it. I read it, and I prayed it, and I meant it. I wanted to belong only to God, and he made it happen.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Those Places

Sometimes my epilepsy gives me weird symptoms. I won’t go into all of them, but one thing is particularly interesting. Sometimes it doesn’t do much other than give a distorted visual image. The funny thing is, I can describe this image in quite a lot of detail. Usually, when I get this visual distortion, I see a room. It’s not just any room. It’s like it’s made up of colored light, like the light one sees when the sun is shining through a window and colors appear on the floor. There is a big window across from me. I can never see what’s outside the window, but it’s always there. There is also sometimes the silhouette or shadow of a desk, and a man sitting at the desk. The image always comes and goes very quickly. I often wish I could see more.

Very recently there was darkness on my mind. It was more than just sadness. It was like I had discovered a dark place in my soul. It wasn’t an epileptic symptom. I was trying to make sense of things, and instead of an explanation, I saw this. It was mountainous. There were no trees or plants. I don’t know what was behind me, but ahead, there was an expanse of gray stone, and in the distance, rocky hills. There was darkness all around me, but there was light on the horizon. The light barely reached me, but it reached, nonetheless, dimly showing me where I was. Initially, I wanted the light to go away. I wanted it to let the darkness take over. It was like the light was alive. After a couple of days this image or idea went away and took the darkness with it.

When I was younger, mostly when I was in high school, I would fantasize about meeting the perfect man; the love of my life. I had this image in my head of a man in a dark room, down on his knees, praying for me, because I was praying for him. My heart ached for this person I was waiting for; who I had made up. I sometimes tried to visualize myself in that room, bending down to touch him, and to help him up, but for some reason, I never could. I eventually said goodbye to him. I said, “I’m sorry. We’re never going to meet. You’re waiting for someone else, and I bet you’ll meet her.” I’ve only thought about him a few times since, and even then, only briefly. I think he has found who he was waiting for.

I did find who I was waiting for. I had a dream about him. I was in complete darkness, but for some reason I could see his silhouette. He told me to follow him, so I did until I saw a light off in the distance. He said again to follow him. Then I woke up. I wonder if the man at the desk in the room of light is the same person. I think I’ll find myself in that room someday. It always seems like I can see the light, but I’m not always in the light. It seems that sometimes to find the light, you have to find the darkness first. You have to see war to recognize peace. You have to be lonely to recognize love.

In that dark place in my mind, I initially wanted the light to go away. That initial desire only lasted a minute because as soon as I realized what I was feeling, I wanted the light to stay. I couldn’t let it leave. I held onto it for dear life. It wasn’t just light. If it had gone, I would have been alone. There was healing in the light that hurt my eyes at first. It said, “Don’t look away. Come this way. Just keep looking. Follow me.” I want to make that place brighter. If there is light in me, I want to find a way to let it shine.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!