Tag Archives: Creation

Sneak Peek

Ladies and gentlemen, I have finished the first version of my Creation story–the first story in my mythology. I just couldn’t resist sharing it with you all, and while I most likely won’t post any other actual material from the book on here, I’ll be sure to update anyone who’s interested on my progress. It’s still rough, but I’m pretty happy with it, so without further ado…

Creation

In the beginning there were only spirits. These spirits inhabited the realms few humans understand, far fewer have traversed, still fewer dare to, and some that no one has even heard of. Many of these spirits lived together in peace, governing their lands according to their nature, and living out eternities in mutual understanding. We have heard from the mystics that in the beginning, there were far fewer realms than there are today, and the ones that did exist were, and still are mysterious, deep, and inaccessible to natural forms.

In the beginning the spirits inhabited the Spirit Realm, the Realm of Light, the Realm of Peace, The Elemental Realm, and the Transient Realm. These are the ones we know of. It has been told that the Transients and the Elementals were not content to live in harmony as the other spirits were. It is unclear when their alliance formed, nor when the Great War that broke the worlds occurred, for the spirit world does not exist in measurable time. Some surmise it must have been millennia ago. Others believe that it has simply changed and that it is an endless war that continues to create and break new realms, new creatures, new spirits; a never-ending struggle that plunges all Existence deeper into the Abyss.

Some believe that it was the Transients, whose nature is fleeting, who turned the Elementals against the other spirits. Others believe that Inferno, the Fire Elemental, whose rage is unmatched and unquenchable sought dominion over the tranquil spirits of the Realm of Peace. This in turn necessitated an alliance among the spirits of all other realms. The Elementals are powerful, and the Transients are deceitful. Truthfully, not even the spirits of other realms know the exact cause of the War, but its end is legendary among all intelligent beings. It was the War of Creation, and the catalyst to all other wars.

It was Flint, the Earth Elemental, who met with Efell, a spirit of the Realm of Peace in secret to bargain for a cease-fire. Never before had two spirits, especially not from different realms fallen in love. Their union was a turning point in the War. Their love transformed them, creating the Sanctuary; a place that can only be reached in love and in secret. It is their sanctuary, and any being, mortal or immortal, who attempts to reach it, never returns unless accompanied by a kindred soul. It is a place of deception. Those who know how to find it alone go and are trapped. It is thought of as an escape from death, but the cost of this life is eternal solitude. This is the only reachable place in the Realm of Secrets, and can only be accessed by way of the Kindred Realm.

Almost nothing is known about the Realm of Secrets, but it was after the union of Flint and Efell that the Kindred Realm was formed. The Kindred Realm was, and is, like the Sanctuary, only accessible by peaceful souls. In the beginning, it was not much more than a bright expanse. That is how the spirits who have traveled to its outer reaches still describe it, and it is ruled by the purity of unmuted, unapologetic love. For some time, the Kindred Realm remained a secret, but eventually its existence could not be kept hidden.

The Transients and the Elementals, who had been allied for so long turned against each other, formed other alliances, and strove for access and dominion of this new Realm that they would never reach, and their anger towards each other only grew. If realms can be created out of love, they can be created out of hate. Many weaker realms, the names of which we can never know were destroyed, and out of these were created the Dead Realms, the Realm of Darkness, and the Realm of Fear.

The War continued into eternity, until finally it ended. It was out of one of the mysterious Dead Realms that the Exile came. It was clear at the moment of her coming that she was an outsider. She spoke in riddles and in truth, and confounded all who encountered her, except those who understood that Death was not the reason for her coming. Many did not. Many assumed that this was the end, not of the war, but of existence itself, for she came from beyond what can be understood even by spirits. She was an Exile, even from those realms. Her nature was unlike that of any spirit that had yet been encountered in any realm. Some saw her as free, some saw her as shackled, some saw her as an answer, and some saw her as wholly dangerous. At times she was pursued—cautiously sought after, and at others she was avoided, even to the point of being chased out. She was, in many ways, a contradiction.

The Exile wandered through the realms, sometimes in flight, though as a peacemaker whenever possible. She grew tired as eternity dragged on and peace seemed so impossible, for her nature, strange as it was, could not withstand the fear and desolation of an endless war. She yearned for companionship; for a soul to accompany her to the Kindred Realm where she would be safe. She confided these feelings to Flint who agreed to speak with her after some persuasion, but their meeting was in vain, and had dire consequences. Efell, though he was a spirit of peace, did not approve of their meeting. He feared for the safety of his beloved, and believed that if it were known that she had met with the Exile, she herself would be scorned, or even exiled. Efell sought a meeting with the ruler of the Realm of Peace, and convinced him that the Exile was much more dangerous than she appeared. He convinced the ruler that her nature was deceptive, and that she shared many more similarities with the Transients than with the spirits of peace. And thus she was exiled from the Realm of Peace.

Again she attempted to meet with Flint, who seemed to be her one remaining friend in all the spirit worlds, but the earth elemental had submitted to the will of her beloved and the two had retreated to the Sanctuary. The Exile was now utterly alone. Not only that but she had been demonized by every spirit dimension. Eternity appeared bleak. There was nowhere for her to go, let alone be accepted. Something inside her was shattered, and as she realized this, she realized that it was her heart that had been broken—the heart she never knew she had. Never before had there been a spirit with a heart. A heart had to be given to be remade. She knew this, and she also knew there was no one to give her heart to. She pondered this as she thought of Flint and Efell and grew to understand that they were kindred spirits and nothing more. They protected each other. Their love was deep, but it was the love of friendship. The Exile could protect no one, but she could end the war. Her broken heart would be the Barrier—what we now know of as the Outer Realm.

At a moment in eternity the Abyss shattered and twisted. There was darkness and light. Reality broke and solidified. In a moment the Realms broke apart and in their midst arose solid ground; the sun and the moon; the stars; plants and animals; creatures of all kinds, and at this moment, the Exile died. The ground we walk on was once the heart of an outsider. It is because of this Heart that spirits cannot travel from one realm to another without the help of a human with a kindred soul. It is also because of this that there has never been another known spirit war. A heart must be shared to protect and create and save. That heart was shared with an entire world.

Advertisements

Red

My favorite color is red. I mean bright, LOUD, obnoxious RED!!!! It’s followed by blue-purple, then black. Apparently only 10% of women in the U.S. say their favorite color is red, which I thought was cool. I was bored one day, so I looked it up. If you looked at all the stuff I own, you’d know my favorite color. My mom got me a new bag for my birthday, and it’s delightfully red, and significantly bigger than my old one. I was running out of room.

I was thinking about why my favorite color is red the other day, and I think I have an interesting reason. I’m just one of those people who have to have a reason for everything. Generally, I think, most colors have at least vague connotations for different people. To me, red exemplifies power and energy, but also love. Of course it’s also the color of blood. Interestingly, I got into an argument about this with a friend on Facebook. Red has negative connotations for him because it mostly represents blood and, therefore, death. For me, it can also represent blood, but I generally associate this with life.

At various times in my yet short life, I’ve been obsessed with things. When I was a little kid I was obsessed with dragons. When I was in middle school I was obsessed with a mythical world my friends and I created that, of course, we had to rescue from Agorauth, the evil wolf demon. When I was in high school I guess you could say, in a sense, I was obsessed with myself–or rather, the fact that I was “alone.” When I was in college, for the most part, I was obsessed with school, partly in the pursuit of Truth.

These days I think it would be accurate to say that I am obsessed with art; with creating things. I feel like my art–in whatever form it takes–has to have a reason behind it. I don’t think you can create art for art’s sake. At the very least, artists create because we want to. Even if one isn’t trying to say anything in particular, there is something of the individual in every created thing.

Most of my art isn’t visual. I mostly work with music and written pros. I don’t create in color per se, but I definitely live in color. Everyone does. How we dress, how we decorate, and what we carry with us say something about who we are. Most of my important stuff is red and, in some cases black. These color choices have musical, not just visual connotations. I grew up on 90’s punk and alternative rock. From the age of eight I wanted to be in a band, and when I started guitar lessons at fourteen, I knew I specifically wanted to be in a punk band. That didn’t happen, but it translated to how I carry myself. Red and black are very 90’s punk.

As I said, I don’t usually work in a visual medium, but about a year ago I designed a piece that, until recently I didn’t do anything with. I can paint, though not incredibly well, and it takes me forever. The design I came up with was complicated, so that was out of the question. I thought about getting a tattoo, but no one would see it, and it’s important to me. Finally I was able to create a digital version of my design and I’m having it made into a pendant. I’m rather proud of that. The design is a butterfly on top of a rose that is being held by two hands clasped together. The butterfly is supposed to be white and the rose is supposed to be red, but I’m having the whole thing made in silver.

The colors were symbolic in my original design. The white butterfly was meant to represent redemption and change. The red rose was supposed to represent life and sacrifice. The two hands together represent togetherness with God. I think the design will look nice in silver, but I still think it would have been nice to find a way to make it into something with color.

I don’t think you can have too much of a good thing. We just haven’t found a thing on Earth that doesn’t end up being not-good after a while. Everything eventually ends up being boring or unhealthy. When I was in middle school I ate pickle-and-mustard sandwiches for lunch every day. Eventually I got sick of them and, to this day, I hate pickles.

During Lent I’ve been taking a class about knowing Jesus better. Last week we learned something interesting. People tend to replace God as a priority with four basic things: power, honor, wealth, and/or pleasure. The thing is, none of these things will ultimately satisfy us. We’ll just always want more. This is definitely the plight of the artist… or at least for me. It’s never quite good enough, so I keep creating, or I keep editing. Sometimes I hit a home run and I can consider a project finished, but it isn’t often, and I throw a lot of material away. Part of it is that I’m much more careful with my novel than I am with my songwriting lately. I haven’t written a really good song in a while.

It’s hard to write a really good song about a specific person or thing. I find it’s easier to write about ideas and invent specific details, or to start with something random off the top of my head and see where it goes. Some of my best songs have been the result of what started as “mind spew.” I have a new musical project in mind. It’s an instrumental piece because it’s supposed to convey something I haven’t been able to express in words (and trust me, I’ve tried). In a sense, it’s supposed to be synesthetic. You’re supposed to feel it as you hear it.

I find I can much more effectively convey emotion through sound than any other medium, whether it’s musical sound or something else. Specifically, I’ve only really been able to convey a sense of peace through music. A lot of my visual art actually tends to be angst-ridden for some reason. My favorite color is red, and while it represents love, I never really think of it as representing peace.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Last Night I Didn’t Have A Seizure

Yesterday I didn’t have a seizure. This isn’t out of the ordinary. I don’t usually have seizures. I do have epilepsy, however, and I sometimes get symptoms. I was a little spaced out all day yesterday. For the most part it was fine, it was just a little difficult to pay attention in my first class. I took a little extra medication between my second and third class (which is totally allowed), and I felt better. I was mostly fine in my third class, but I still found it a bit difficult to read. That particular class is from 4:30 to 7:30 PM. By the end of it I was completely back to normal.

Quite frankly, I hate medication. I avoid headache meds like the plague. I don’t like the idea of some unnatural substance messing with my brain. My brain is already screwed up enough. I take the seizure meds because I have to. It’s times like last night when I really appreciate them, though.

I don’t know why, but last night I was thinking about miracles. I keep relearning over and over that miracles aren’t usually what we think they are. I guess I was thinking about this because of Tenth Avenue North’s new album. The main idea of the album is that we are God’s cathedrals: we are the dwelling places of the Holy Spirit. Therefore, wherever we go, that place becomes sacred. God allows people to do miracles. It happened in the Bible, and it happens now. Doctors didn’t make my epilepsy go away, but someone created these ugly little pills so that people like me can manage our problems.

Some engineer years ago figured out how to make powered wheelchairs and accessible cars so that people like me could go wherever the crap we want. I can’t use a regular wheelchair. I can’t push it myself because my arms don’t straighten enough, so it’s basically this or nothing.

There are so many technological advances and happy accidents in our lives that we take for granted. The truth is that all these things are miracles.

If you think about it, it’s a miracle the sun comes up every morning. It’s a miracle that there’s life on earth. It’s a miracle that life continues. So many things had to go right billions of years ago and have to continue going right it’s unfathomable.

For Lent last year I decided that instead of giving something up I was just going to make a point to pray more. I think I sort of succeeded in doing that. I definitely pray more, if not as much as I would like to. As part of this, however, I learned something; or at least I decided something. I try to pray whenever I have a meal. As part of that, I’ve learned to appreciate food more. There are other reasons for this as well. Part of it was learning more about where my food comes from, and part of it was learning more about countries where people don’t have easily accessible food like we do. I’m not saying food is a miracle. I’m just saying that there’s something kind of sacred about the act of eating.

My dad and I watched a TED Talk last night by an author who just does weird experiments and then writes books about them. His most recent book was about his experience with trying to follow every law in the Bible literally. There were a lot of things he learned from that, but one of them was that giving thanks is super important. He talked about how often times, we think it’s changing our minds that will modify our behavior, but it’s really the other way around; changing our behavior is what changes our minds. I think that’s true. This guy was agnostic, and remained agnostic after his experiment, but he realized through doing these Biblical rituals that there really is a kind of sacredness to things–whether it’s related to a higher being or not. Admittedly this was a bit confusing to me, but I think it makes sense on some level. I think sacredness can and should be felt, not simply intellectualized.

I know if I don’t bring it up, somebody else will, or will at least be thinking it: but what about the things in the world that are clearly bad? What about the things that are clearly not sacred? I’m not denying that there is evil in the world. I’m not denying that doing certain things is wrong and sinful. If that weren’t the case, then we wouldn’t have rules about not doing them. However, at some level, all creation is God’s creation. This includes human creativity. We are meant to be co-creators, and in some sense, co-redeemers. Bad stuff happens because we have free will and we derp around a lot, but I think beautiful things can be created even from a mess. Nasty things can be made sacred in one way or another. This too is miraculous.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Faith, Doubt, Patience And Getting Famous

I wonder what it’s like to be the friends and family of U2 or Pearl Jam or Paul McCartney. I wonder what it was like growing up with them, having no idea they would become huge, international rock stars. I wonder if there were doubters. I wonder how their parents felt about the fact that they spent hours on end writing songs and playing guitar in their basements instead of doing homework. I wonder how they feel now.

I know there are doubters among my friends and family and acquaintances. I won’t say who they are. It’s annoying to me that people ask, “well, do you know what you would do if music doesn’t work out?” It’s just their way of saying, “You’re destined to fail. You need a backup plan.” Maybe I’m crazy, but there isn’t a doubt in my mind that I’ll make it. I don’t care about being famous. I just don’t want to have a day job. More importantly, though, I want to dedicate my life to music because it’s my most meaningful way of dedicating my life to God. I know I’m a good songwriter, and I know that talent came from him. I can’t do anything else because I feel like I would be wasting that talent.

Furthermore, I’ve already put so much time, money, effort and prayer into this dream of mine. I feel that, as a Christian songwriter, I have an obligation to spread a message. A week ago I was thinking; why did God make us in the first place? It’s not a thought that had ever really struck me. It had crossed my mind before, but I had never really thought about it. The conclusion that I came to after some reading and thinking was that God made us because he loves us. Before we were made we were loved. Furthermore, God is good, so we are good and the world is good because he made all that exists. I feel obligated to share that message LOUDLY.

Admittedly, I do want music to work out for selfish reasons. I don’t want to sit behind a computer for several hours a day researching or editing articles or whatever it is most English majors end up doing. I don’t want to teach either. I definitely don’t want to teach. All of it sounds boring, tedious and unfulfilling. I get so much joy and fulfillment from performing and writing songs, partly because it’s fun, and partly because I know people are hearing what I really want them to hear.

Sometimes trying to get gigs and only getting to play two songs at church open mics or tiny restaurants is frustrating, but I know it really is all worth it because it’s better than nothing, and will amount to something eventually. I do believe that God will open doors for me, like he already has, and this project will go somewhere. I have found that I get in my own way sometimes. It’s easy to forget that it’s all for his glory and not mine. I get a giant ego trip from applause and compliments after my sets, and I have to be careful of that. I’m not too worried, though. Doubters can be frustrating, but I know this is going in the right direction. I just have to be patient. That’s something I have trouble with sometimes. I’ll get to where I need to be eventually. I’m just a passenger on this crazy road trip anyway.

The Latest Version of “Passenger”

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

A Blast From The Past Of Mythological Proportions

Some of you may remember that when I started this blog I wrote a seven part mythology story. I haven’t written much in the fantasy genre since then, but I had an idea that I might either incorporate into the mythology somehow, or write as a standalone story. Anyway, here are the links to parts 1-7 of the mythology if anyone is interested. I’ll be posting the first instillation of my new story shortly.

Mythology Part 1
Mythology Part 2
Mythology Part 3
Mythology Part 4
Mythology Part 5
Mythology Part 6
Mythology Part 7

Fun And Fixing Things

I wonder what God’s version of fun looks like. Does God have fun? I guess he must because he makes artists and musicians and crazy people and lets them loose to make people laugh and make love happen. Still, God has a pretty stressful job. He knows everything about everyone, ever. He knows exactly when a baby is going to die or when friends are going to see each other for the last time. He even knows every nasty thought that goes through every head. To me that sounds awfully depressing.

I ask God why he doesn’t fix things a lot. It’s probably really annoying at this point. I really hope that God has fun. Genesis says that God created the universe and saw that it was good. He was pleased with this crazy, complicated insanity he made. Maybe it’s similar to how I feel when I write a new song or a particularly interesting blog post. Someone once said that he asked God why he doesn’t do something about all the problems in the world and God said, “I did do something. I created you.” I do want to fix things, so I suppose the same response applies to me as well.

I really just want people to love each other. I want people to look at each other and say, “I love you because you are a human. God created you and me the same. We’re both special and we’re both just like everyone else.” The trouble is that I don’t know how to make that happen. I don’t know how to reach more people with the limited resources I currently have. All I know to do is write blog posts and write songs and hope and pray that I can get my message out there.

I need to be more proactive, though. I haven’t been looking too hard for opportunities to perform lately, partly because I currently hate my bedroom. I basically lived in there for over a month while I was finishing up school and I want to be anywhere but there, which means I haven’t been using my computer much at all in the past few days. I’m getting a bit off topic, so I’ll end here, but I want to end on a promise. I promise that in the next week I will find 3 new open mic venues and attempt to get 3 gigs.

Wish me luck. Prayers are appreciated.

Thanks!