Of Music, Wandering, and Celebrating Spring (Rather lengthy!)

"I will live my life as a lobster-man's wife

On an island in the blue bay.

He will take care of me, he will smell like the sea.

And close to my heart he'll always stay.

I will bear three girls, all with strawberry curls,

Little Ella, and Nellie, and Fay.

As I comb their long hair I will catch his warm stare,

On our island in the blue bay.

Far away, far away, I wanna go far away-

Where the water is blue and the people are new,

To another island in another life."

                         ~ "Far Away" Ingrid Michaelson

Often, teenagers these days seem to view music as one aspect of defining themselves. I can't count how many times I've seen people my age post comments about how "music is their life" or how "music defines them". I'll admit that I went through that stage when  was about 13 or 14. I was listening to music constantly; my style could have been described as "anything that was loud and had a beat worthy of giving someone a headache". I guess I bought into the lie that if I didn't listen to the same music as everyone else I would get laughed out of town. 

I really can't recall the exact moment that my opinion on music changed. For almost an entire year I stopped listening to music. I didn't turn on the radio in the car, I didn't plug into my iPod at school, I didn't listen to any tunes while working on homework; I just stopped cold-turkey. 

To this day I don't know what it was that caused me to drop all things musical... mid-life crisis maybe? Nevertheless, by the time I came back to music my taste had changed entirely. All I remember is hearing the Googoo Dolls' song, "Iris", on Pandora; I was instantly hooked. 

At first it was a struggle trying to find other artists that had a similar feel to the Googoo Dolls. I didn't mind the really old bands, but I also wanted something modern that had the same low-key acoustic feel to it. I finally struck gold when I discovered Sara Barielles' music. Granted, she was a little more soul-funk than I had in mind, but I wasn't mad at it. From then on it just got easier- Missy Higgins, Regina Spektor, The Script, Boyce Avenue, and Ingrid Michaelson quickly followed. Since then, I've added a few miscellaneous artists and eventually developed a style all my own. I have yet to meet someone who likes all the same bands as me- I finally have a unique style. However, instead of using this new style as a means of defining myself, I use it as a means of discovering more about myself. The way I respond to certain songs and their lyrics gives me insight into how I view the world and other people. 

Music shouldn't be how we define ourselves, it should be what we use to discover ourselves.

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door.

You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet,

There's no knowing where you may be swept off to."

                                   ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

There's no arguing the fact that spring is the time for wandering. After a long winter there's nothing more enticing than a promising walk in the sunshine. The sky has finally given up on trying to hold back the color and it simply explodes from every angle. The birds come back and strike up their song once more, while the tiny, yet perfect, flowers begin to bloom on the side of the road again. It's times like these that, as Chaucer puts it, "people yearn to go on pilgrimage". 

In the past few days I've been fantasizing about how great it would be if I had enough money to fill up my old, 1993 merc. tracer (yeah, she's a beaut), and just drive. I wouldn't have a specific destination in mind; just take whatever road captured my interest. In a beautiful town like mine, surrounded by mountains with hundreds of hidden trails and roads, it wouldn't be too difficult. 

Unfortunately, with gas prices being where they are, and me being temporarily out of a job, I have to content myself with taking my pooch for walks in the evenings after school. It's still a little chilly to go too far, but I have hopes that the weather will allow me to make it to the old graveyard and back sometime soon. Yet another dream of mine- reading poetry in the old cemetery. Ah well, it'll have to be postponed 'till another day I suppose.  

"Three little birds, sat on my window.
And they told me I don't need to worry.
Summer came like cinnamon
So sweet,
Little girls double-dutch on the concrete.

Maybe sometimes, we've got it wrong, but it's alright
The more things seem to change, the more they stay the same
Oh, don't you hesitate.

Girl, put your records on, tell me your favourite song
You go ahead, let your hair down
Sapphire and faded jeans, I hope you get your dreams,
Just go ahead, let your hair down.

You're gonna find yourself somewhere, somehow.

Blue as the sky, sunburnt and lonely,
Sipping tea in a bar by the roadside,
(just relax, just relax)
Don't you let those other boys fool you,
Got to love that afro hair do.

Maybe sometimes, we feel afraid, but it's alright
The more you stay the same, the more they seem to change.
Don't you think it's strange?

Girl, put your records on, tell me your favourite song
You go ahead, let your hair down
Sapphire and faded jeans, I hope you get your dreams,
Just go ahead, let your hair down.

You're gonna find yourself somewhere, somehow."

           ~ "Put Your Records On" Corinne Bailey Rae

I couldn't be more excited about spring and summer! I've had enough of this dreary winter. 

Tunnel Book Update (2)

         Here's another update on my tunnel book project; complete with pictures! Though the actual process of making one of these probably doesn't have to take a month, I've been taking my time on it and not really making a point of sitting down and finishing it- no rush. It's nice to have at least one project that I don't have a "due date" on.

Anyway, the last time I sat down to work on "It's a Wonderful Life", I painted all of the slides and then glued them onto the binding.

 

I used regular acrylic paint that's probably way past it's prime (and more than likely the cheapest you can possibly buy). Hey- I'm not an artist, so it doesn't bother me. ;)

The only tip I have for painting (or coloring): make sure that you paint down far enough so that when you line up the slides there won't be any white showing. I didn't paint quite far enough down on the third slide so it looks a little awkward when I line them up; I'll go back and fix it eventually.

 

Oh gosh- ignore the basket of laundry in the background; there's nothing too embarrassing there.

(Clearly I'm not a photographer either.)

 

Alright, so after painting I got out my hot-glue gun and glued the slides to the binding. I made the binding by just accordion-folding a piece of paper that was cut to the size of the slides. Make sure you space the slides evenly.

Tip for gluing: No matter how badly you want to pull off those little glue strings right away; wait for them to cool first! And don't poke the hot drops of glue.

 

The camera quality isn't the best, so it doesn't do the colors justice and all that nonsense.

 

Next time I work on the book I'm going to go back and paint the border and hopefully work out a cover for it. My measurements were off on some things (patience isn't a strong point for me when it comes to art) so the slides buckle out a little more than I would like. Just make sure that you line everything up really well before you glue it in place. Yeah... learn from my mistakes.

 

Anyway, more updates to follow! Until next time. :)





Tunnel Book (1)

Alright, so I'm breaking my own rule about posting more than once in a single day- but since I mentioned this as a "follow-up" post here, I think I'll let it slide. ;) Okay, moving on to gushing about my latest obsession; tunnel books.

I want to start off by saying where I found the inspiration for my tunnel book because, God knows, I couldn't have come up with it on my own. I got the general idea of having a story (or in this case, a quote) accompanying a 3-D picture from morethanaghost on Deviantart. Here's a picture of her tunnel book- "Like Leaves":

 

I don't need to tell you how freakin' adorable it is! Be sure to check out her page on Deviantart. She's a very talented artist and deserves to have her work recognized.

 

Anyway, I decided- spur of the moment- to create a tunnel book for my best friend. He's a wannabe film director who's obsessed with old movies and Jimmy Stewart. (I wish you could hear his Jimmy impersonation; makes me laugh every time.) Because of this, I decided to theme my tunnel book after the movie "It's a Wonderful Life"; particularly the scene where George says that he'll "lasso the moon" for Mary.

 

I spent a good two hours sketching and then cutting out the different slides on some plain white posterboard. I'm not good at drawing, so you're not allowed to laugh at my people. ;P

Here's what I have so far (sorry, picture quality's not the best):

 

When I actually put the pieces of the book together they won't be flat against each other, they'll be spaced out, creating a three-dimensional look (similar to morethanaghost's). I then created a little envelope with the lines from that scene of the movie written out on it:

 

I realize that right now it looks quite similar to morethanaghost's book, but I'm hoping that the more familiar I get with the technique and the general idea, the more unique my tunnel book will become. I'll be sure to post regular updates of the process for anyone who's interested. :) And again, be sure to check out some of ghost's work! 



The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

          Today was not a good day. To put it quite simply, all things that could possibly go wrong, did go wrong. From disagreements with teachers, to doing the wrong homework assignment, to oversleeping this morning and thus being forced to go without lunch. I swear, it felt just like a Monday- only twice as bad. I guess that's what happens when I have a three day weekend; Monday comes back and bites me twice as hard, just for good measure. The stress was so severe that my nails are all nubby and my lip is chewed to pieces; oh agony!
         But I don't want to focus on the bad parts of my day; I did enough of that on my drive home from school (my poor little sister had to listen to me rant for the whole 30 minute trip).

Instead, I want to zone in on all the things that I do at the end of a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, to make it just a little bit better.

   1. Coming Home. I don't know what it is about being home- but the moment I step through   that door it feels as though all the pain and stress and worry from that day gets left on the doorstep. I'm still a little steamed, but things never seem quite so bad once I'm home.

   2. Shower/Clean Up. Talk about the healing power of showers! Even a quick dunking of one's head in the tub is enough to rinse away the gross feeling that a bad day can leave behind on your skin. (Or maybe I'm the only one who gets that feeling... Awkward.)

   3. Sweats and a Blanket. Yeeees! I can honestly say that the thing I look forward to most about coming home is being able to clip back my bangs, throw on a pair of sweatpants, and snuggle up under a fuzzy blanket; don't forget those warm socks!

   4. Good Smells and a Hot Drink. I've never been the type to hoard a bunch of lotions, perfumes, or fragrances, but at the end of a long day there's nothing I love more than the comforting smell of vanilla, hot mint, or caramel. It just smells like home and safety. When I stepped into my room this afternoon after coming home from school I was instantly aware of the fact that my sister/roommate had been burning a candle. I could've hugged her just about then. Throw in a pot of mint tea and I forgot what it was that I was so angry about today.

   5. Book/Craft. Most days I can't think of anything better than curling up and reading a good book after school. But lately my brain has been so fried at the end of the day, that I can't really focus well enough to get through more than a few pages. So this week I've started working on a little project. While stalking some artists on Deviantart I discovered a new type of artwork that I fell completely head-over-heels in love with; *tunnel books.

*More information on that wonderful little creation in a follow-up post.

So there you have it. My sure-fire way to lighten up a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. (Don't forget to listen to your pocket watch!)

 Oh, and did I forget to mention that blogging is a bonus that can only help? ;)

Sunday Scribbles: Paper Towns



Yes, this post is a little delayed, but I had an unexpected chill-out session with some of my good friends last night. And honestly, I'd take that quality friendship time over an evening of blogging any day. ;) I will not be a lonely old maid forever!



          Anyway, back on topic. I'll admit to you straight up that I can't actually remember when it was that I read this book. It must have been some time ago because all I really remember from the story is poetry, road trips, mystery, and a hopeless romance on the part of the main character.
But in all seriousness, this book had a huge impact on me when I first read it. I've talked about how my mom once encouraged me to put aside the fantasy and pick up some real literature; back then I never thought much of it. But this book, written by John Green, was probably one of the first books I read that I could qualify as "real literature".

 

Credit

         The complex emotions and uncertainty of the characters as they attempt to break out of the boxes they've had built up around them all their lives is moving. Not to mention, the snippets of Leaves of Grass that are scattered throughout the story as clues, exposed me to the genius of Walt Whitman; I can now proudly say that I have my own copy of his poetry sitting on my shelf.
In summary, on the surface, this book appears to be just another teen novel about growing up, graduating, and beating it out of town; but in reality, I remember this book touching so much deeper than I had expected. It exposed me to the raw uncertainty that so many people feel in their lives. And how other people can see someone as this highly intelligent, complex being; when in reality, they don't have a clue what's going on under the surface.

How can other people know us when we don't even know ourselves?

Blog Topics, Brain Blocks, and Procrastination

Tragedy! I'm only a few weeks into my blog and already I've begun to run out of interesting things to talk about. When it really comes down to it, my life isn't nearly as interesting as I'd like it to be. I could talk about the beautiful sunsets that have colored the sky these past few weeks, or the skewed definition of what a "best friend" is; but quite honestly, I don't want to waste your time or mine with overused topics. I'm not creative enough to be able to revamp them and make them interesting like some people can.

So, in an attempt to cure this lack of inspiration, I used Google (what a marvelous contraption) to find something called a "Random Topic Generator for Blogs."

What? I know right!! Clearly someone suffers from the same brain blockage that I do! Thank God.

Anyway, the first generated topics didn't really seem to fit what I was looking for, though a few did give me a good laugh. I mean, who doesn't want to write about the ethical consequences of plagiarism? Um, that would be me. "My favorite dinosaur" didn't seem like a likely topic either, so I ditched the "Opinion" category and decided to look under "Personal".

Let me just say- this topic generator must have special technological x-ray vision that sees into the depths of your soul, because the first topic that popped up was "Procrastination methods". Ouch.

I like to think that I'm not as bad about procrastinating as some people, but then I look at the mountain of overdue homework that I have and that excuse goes out the window. So here it is, my methods of procrastination when it comes to homework:

1. Wow, my room is so messy! I should really clean it-
my Civics project can wait a few more hours.

2. Okay, time to research the devastating effects of the Holocaust- again.
Ah! Jenna Marbles has posted another video- I think I'll watch it. And this one. And this one. And that other one...

3. Grammar, or Physics? That is the question...
How about reruns of Sherlock? The "proper" British language and the dead body forensics is like a double whammy!

4. I should do laundry. I should do laundry. I should do laundry.
Oh hey, someone just put up a blog post about crossword puzzles!

5. Alright, sit down and write your essay, it's only 500 words.
But I need to be somewhere in 3.5 hours, I don't want to start something and then have to stop in the middle of it.

6. I really need to take my dog for a walk.
But my friend lent me Les Miserables, and I've only read 5 chapters! She could change her mind about letting me keep it as long as I want; what if she wants it back tomorrow?

And the list could go on. I'm sure everyone has their own methods of procrastination, probably more interesting than mine. So leave a comment and let me know your best/worst procrastination methods! Also, if your blog is lacking in topic variety- check out the Blog Topic Generator; I guarantee it'll at least give you a laugh, if not inspiration.

Sunday Scribbles: Tamar



              In today's Sunday Scribble I'm featuring the novel "Tamar"; written by British author, Mal Peet. If you're a fan of historical war novels, then this is definitely worth the read. Not only does this story deal with the horrors of World War II, but it also plants you deep inside the minds and fears that the people living during that time period experienced.

"Tamar" is an interesting book that puts a unique spin on the age-old subject of World War II. Rather than focusing on Holocaust victims or soldiers on the front lines, this story puts the spotlight on a less glamorized form of warfare. It follows the lives of two British men dropped behind enemy lines in Nazi-occupied Holland, 1945; these young men act as underground resistance leaders and spies that pass along information to the Brits using specially devised codes.

But here's the catch- the book simultaneously tells the story of a young girl living years later in England in 1995. Haunted by her family's hidden past, she resolves to unravel the mystery of what happened so many years ago, and where she got her namesake- Tamar.

Twisting and intertwining in unexpected ways, this novel deals with the hardship, betrayal, and passion of war while gently prompting a girl to dig into her past and begin her own coming-of-age story.  

 And there you have it. So, to wrap things up- What's your favorite war novel? Have you read "Tamar"? If so, I'd love to hear your thoughts or opinions on the book!

Until next time!

Of Revolutions, Stage Productions, and Classics

I may as well dub this particular post my "Arts Fan-girl" post. Though I'm far from being a theatre geek, or an expert on classical books, I've developed a love for all things dramatic, romantic, and classical. I owe this new love of the arts to my two-semester British Literature class that I took last year in school, and my mother's encouragement to get my nose out of magic and dragon books and into something that would, and I quote, "stretch" my mind.

"The Count of Monte Cristo" was my first official step in that direction, and I haven't gone back since. Since then I've really gotten into the classics of poetry- Whitman, Frost, Poe, Hughes, Wordsworth- and the like. I've also developed a taste for reading scripts; you can't go wrong with Shakespeare.

Up until now I had held little to no interest in theatre arts. Sure, I liked the idea of "going to the opera" or watching people run around in wigs; their faces oozing with stage makeup. But lets face it- local high school productions are a far cry from Broadway. However, last summer my friends and I made a point of getting out and "broadening our horizons" by attending some of the local high school's plays. We saw "Little Shop of Horrors" (twice), "Cats", "The Wizard of Oz", and "Hercules"- all of which were fairly well done, considering they were put on by amateurs.

Today, though, one of my friends took me to see the latest screen rendition of Les Miserables. I was hesitant at first, thinking that the movie would be a little cheesy because of all the well-known actors, but was pleasantly surprised in the end and actually found myself holding back tears at several parts. (My friend was in the seat beside me crying her eyes out; she's a die-hard Les Mis fan.) As a thank-you, I promised to have her over sometime to see The Phantom of the Opera (with Gerard Butler and Emmy Rossum).

Now, I realize that real theatre buffs would probably scoff at these silver screen "imitations"; but I find them to hold a certain charm of their own. I suppose I'm a little spoiled in that I prefer the special effects and scenery that a movie has to offer as opposed to a theatre production's limited props. I mean, really, the destruction and poverty of the French Revolution can only be shown to a certain level on an actual stage; in a movie you can go wild. But let me put your nerves to rest by saying that watching each of these movies has inspired me to add "The Phantom of the Opera" and "Les Miserables" to my list of must-reads. I've also fallen head-over-heals for the music featured in each of these productions. (Eponine's "On My Own" has been swirling around in my head ever since I got home.)

So- if you're a die-hard "Arts" fan and have some wisdom you'd like to impart, leave a comment! I'd love to hear from you. Also, if you know of another excellent Broadway production or "silver screen atrocity" that's worth watching, let me know. You're helping me climb out from under my self-imposed rock!

A Long Forgotten Treasure

            The moment you open the door you feel as though you've stepped into another world entirely. Every minute detail seems to launch itself at your senses simultaneously, overwhelming you with the complex beauty of it all.

The musty, yet pleasant smell of leather and paper greets your nose, accompanied by the deeper and more powerful scent of ink and wood. You know even before stepping across the threshold that you are standing in a library.

But it isn't just any library- its grandeur and richness go far beyond any comparison you could possibly make. The ceiling is suspended far above your head, held up by majestic, marble pillars that have been carved and sculpted with such beauty that you find it hard to believe that they were made by human hand. The ceiling is so far above your head that you are forced to crane your neck to catch a glimpse of the beautiful artwork above you. One continuous mural covers the vastness of it all, broken only by the beautiful window that is set in the center of the ceiling, allowing a flood of golden sunlight to filter into the room, casting a beautiful rainbow of color on the floor below. Dust motes dance and sparkle in the rays of sunlight, betraying just how old and forgotten this place must be.

The library is composed of two floors, and both are filled from end to end with old mahogany bookshelves that reach from floor to ceiling. The tomes that fill those shelves can only be described as ancient- there are far too many to count and each one looks older than time itself.

As you look around at the beauty that surrounds you, you continue to discover more and more details that seem to bring the room to life before your very eyes; rich carpets, potted plants that have overgrown their enclosures and taken over much of the walls and railings.
There is only one thing missing- life. Despite the vast beauty of the library, you quickly realize that you are the only one here, and the silence is deafening.

(A brief writing exercise I did to practice my descriptive terms. Written in probably about 10 minutes or less. I didn't go back and change anything, so this really is the bare minimum. Picture courtesy of Google search. I couldn't trace it back to the actual artist, but I do not claim it as my own.)

Sunday Scribbles: The Night Circus

            Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, that's right! Step right up and read the first Under the Oak Tree: Sunday Scribbles ever written! This is history in the making right here; but please, hold your applause 'till the end and allow me to explain what a "Sunday Scribble" is.

"Sunday Scribbles" is the title I've decided to give to my Sunday blog posts. These posts will be reviews, rambles, and recommendations of various books that I have read in the past and can't seem to get out of my mind. No spoilers will be given, but I'll do my best to tantalize and torment you until you've finally had enough and decide to pick up the book and read it for yourself. So, without further ado, Ladies and Gents, I give you- The Night Circus!

This novel was written by Erin Morgenstern and published in 2011. I, however, didn't discover this little work of magic until Fall 2012. I was roaming around in the public library trying to find a good book that I hadn't already read before when this cover caught my eye. Now, I don't make a habit of judging a book by it's cover, but I have to say- a little eye candy never hurt anyone. I picked it up, but didn't have a chance to read the back because I had to get home; so I checked it out on faith and hoped that it wouldn't be a waste of my time.

Just a quick little rabbit trail- ever since reading Alexandre Dumas' "The Count of Monte Cristo" I hadn't been able to find a book that was capable of grabbing my attention and actually holding it. I suppose I spoiled myself a little bit on the high-quality literature of that era. Ah well, it was worth it. Needless to say, I was a little sceptical of anything that wasn't a known "classic".

Anyway, as I was saying, when I got home I decided to crack open the book and see if the story was anywhere near as cool as the cover. I'm sorry to say that it wasn't.
The Night Circus went above and beyond what the cover portrayed! Never before have I read a book so full of rich, colorful, and purely magical descriptions. Morgenstern is truly a master artist when it comes to painting pictures with words. This book is simply spell-binding. It took me an entire month to read the novel because I got so caught up in the imagery of it all that I had to reread the same lines over and over again (that, and I didn't want it to end so I would limit myself to a few chapters every night). I would force myself to put the book down at 1 in the morning and then go to sleep hoping with every fiber of my being that I would dream about the world of the Night Circus.

I really can't express in words just how much I love this book. It has romance, magic, mystery, intrigue, the works! And all of that is wrapped up and surrounded by the incomprehensible beauty of the Night Circus that Morgenstern has created. It is, quite simply, one of the most original stories I've ever read. I could continue rambling about the sheer amazingness of this novel, but I'd much rather let you pick it up and read it for yourself.

Please! If you've read The Night Circus, or if you're planning on reading it, leave a comment and let me know what you think. I'd love to hear your opinions!

Anyway, hopefully you enjoyed the first Sunday Scribble; it was a little haphazard and awkward, but we'll work on it. ;) Until next Sunday!

(You may now applaud.)

"Gypsea" Tales

               Today I wanted to touch a little bit on the purpose and inspiration for my blog. First of all- I'd like to direct your attention (if you haven't already discovered this wonderful place) to the Gypsea Tree. I stumbled upon the older version of this amazing little wagon-ring about a week ago while looking for pictures of old libraries with trees growing out of them... don't ask.

Needless to say, the moment I saw it I knew I was hooked. This Gypsea woman is fantastic! She covers a wide variety of interesting subjects in her writings; from cooking to art to the best books to read during the fall. Oh, and did I mention that she also makes some pretty spiffy-lookin' scarves?

Alright, moving on... I did a little digging and discovered that Gypsea Tree first began her blog back in September of 2008- wow! Talk about dedication. That's not to say that she was posting every single day, but she definitely put some effort into keeping her wagon rolling forward. Though I enjoy learning new things and starting on projects, I have a tendency to slack off and give up after a while. Maybe it's because I get busy, or maybe it's simply because I'm lazy. One thing's for sure, I could use a little bit of that good old Gypsea dedication.

Gypsea Tree, a little more than four years later, now has 72 followers. I'm proud to say that I am one of them. She has inspired me to strike out on my own, plant myself under my oak tree, and just write. It doesn't matter if I'm rambling about the weather, or if I'm addressing the issues of booking an eagle-flight to Hobbiton; I just need to be consistent.

So, with the beginning of this new year I am creating a blog where I can share my take on everyday experiences, ramble about books I've cried my eyes out over, and share my romantic sunset pictures. Ultimately I want this to be something that I can commit to whole-heartedly and after one year say "Well, at least I didn't quit".

The only limitations that I'm placing on myself are:
1. No writing more than one blog post per day. I tend to overdo it and then burn out my creativity too quickly, resulting in a dead and abandoned blog. Not good.
2. I must write at least one post per week. Again with priorities; I have trouble making time for things in my life. Usually the gears get turning so quickly that I don't get a real "break" from life until one literally goes flying off the track. This blog will hopefully help to keep that from happening. ;)
3. Don't fake it. I don't want to end up writing meaningless things just because I think it'll up my page views. This blog, by the end of the year, should be the essence of me. I expect to change quite a bit as the year continues, but in the end I want to be able to look back and still see me underneath everything.

So there you have it! A Gypsea tale and a blog creed all rolled into one. Can't get much better than that, can you? ;)

Small in the Scheme of Things

 

               I think there's something exceptionally beautiful about standing alone outside on a cold winter night. When the sky is so clear that if you look up all you can see are hundreds of twinkling stars overhead.
It's on nights like these that you can throw your arms above your head and sing at the top of your lungs without having to worry about embarrassing yourself- there's no one around to hear you.
You can then stand and listen with wonder as the mountains pick up your song, spinning it around and carrying it through their craggy peaks only to turn and throw it back at you.
It's on nights like these, when every breath I take freezes my nose and burns my throat, that I feel alive. I feel like I'm overtaken by some sort of childishness; I throw fistfulls of powdery snow into the air, then stand there and laugh as I watch it drift silently back to the frozen ground.
It's on nights like these that I feel so small- and yet, for once, that feeling doesn't scare me.

(*Art by Sedeptra on Deviantart.)

Of Pocket Watches and Heartbeats

           So, I know I should probably kick off my blog with an introduction and some information about myself... But ever since creating this page in the wee hours of the morning (and I do mean wee hours), I've been preoccupied with one thing- pocket watches. My pocket watch, to be exact.

This Christmas my sisters, in all their foreknowledge and wisdom, decided to buy me a beautiful little pocket watch necklace. I was ecstatic when I found it under the tree and probably would have sat there watching the second-hand move all day if I hadn't been forced to open more gifts. (Oh, tragedy.)

However, it wasn't until a few days later that I discovered something wonderful about the watch. I was sitting in my room trying to plow through some overdue Physics homework when I heard this soft tick, tick, tick.

Alright, yes, I know that all watches tick. But really, how quiet does it usually have to be for us to pick up on that sound? Absolutely silent. No music, no talking, no loud siblings- just quiet.

Setting aside the homework for the time being, I picked up the watch (which I had kept- literally at my side- ever since Christmas) and held it up to my ear. Holding my breath and closing my eyes I concentrated on the simple tick, tick, tick of the watch. It was amazing the sense of peace that seemed to settle over me as I listened to it.

For the last few months I've been stressed out beyond belief; what with overdue essays, Christmas shopping, programs, and concerts- not to mention trying my best to graduate my senior year with better than a "D" average. I hadn't taken much time to slow down and just listen to anything. That was why the watch's slow, steady ticking was such a novelty to me.

Eyes still closed, I took one hand and placed it over my heart while still holding the pocket watch to my ear. To my surprise, after a few minutes, my heart seemed to begin beating in time with the watch's tick, tick, tick. Magical.

Unfortunately the moment was broken up by mom coming in and asking me to come sort out who's turn it was to do dishes that night. Ah well, c'est la vie.

I guess there wasn't really a specific point to this ramble, but I wanted to say something about watches- how shall I put it without it sounding too corny?

Contained inside a watch is the very essence of time... as it ticks each second away it also ticks through birth, death, the beginning of a relationship, the ending of another, and to put it quite simply, the amount of breaths we have left before we die. Who ever thought of containing time within something so simple as a pocket watch? And throughout all of these centuries no one has bothered to come up with a way to silence that endless tick, tick, tick- and for that, I am grateful.

I suppose my point is this:

Amongst all the business and hubbub of life- take a moment to sit back, grab a pocket watch, place it to your ear and put your hand over your heart; and just listen to the seconds passing you by. It's not always a bad thing to just allow them to slip away from you. Or at least, that's my take on it. ;)