Easter

Have you looked up at the sky today?

Did you see the clouds drift by?

When you heard the birds pass overhead,

did you stop and watch them fly?

I have.

Have you seen the painted sunrise,

 watched the morning change it's hue, 

and ever once stop and ponder

the beauty God has given you?  

I have.

In the shifting shapes and colored backs

of every passing cloud, 

or the morning's start and evening's end,

We see God's love abound.

-Alayna Een

Happy Easter Everyone!

Falling far.

What's the point of a "friend" that will lift you up

only so you'll have farther to fall?

Better to abandon the illusion of support.

It's better to have no one at all. 

The Catch.

I've been to a lot or wedding receptions. I would say that it's a Mormon thing... but...it isn't. Not necessarily.

Anyway, from my experience, I had formulated what I believed to be an entirely accurate hypothesis.

It looks like this.

...and the bouquet never makes it past the little kids.

Anyway. Lots of receptions, lots of data.

Last Saturday was an anomaly. The bouquet soared past the little kids and hit Eliza... so she caught it. I was standing next to her, so I technically could have gone for it... but I was more like
"NO THANKS"

Ya. I've always stood in that line-up... but I've never caught it, and I've never expected to. 

But Melissa did. (Part of the little kid rule)

And Eliza did. (a fluke, but the official story is that she was standing proxy for Aria at the time.)

But I think that catching the bouquet should mean more than an "often-repeated-never-headed" tradition of marital succession. And it seems a shame to have caught these flowers just to watch them sit and die at home.

So I paint them.

This is Melissa's Bouquet

And this is Eliza's.

  My original intention, in my heart of hearts, was to then give these paintings to the couple whose wedding it was. But despite the greatest intentions in this heart of mine... I couldn't stand to part with them. Maybe I'll make them copies... someday. Or not. Whatever.

Robert Frost Forgotten

I've slacked on blogging. I've said this so often that it never comes as much of a surprise, but I'll keep saying it until I figure out how to back-date my blogs so that I can slack off without anyone noticing it. But until then, This is my poem for last week.
Psych. I wrote this thing on 3/12/12, as part of the short lived Creative Writing Club at Bonanza... before it morphed into a self-help group.
We were supposed to write a poem after the style and subject of a famous poet.
I chose Robert Frost. Here is his.

The Vantage Point

If tired of trees I seek again mankind,

Well I know where to hie me—in the dawn,

To a slope where the cattle keep the lawn,

There amid lolling juniper reclined,

Myself unseen, I see in white defined

Far off the homes of men, and farther still,

The graves of men on an opposing hill,

Living or dead, whichever are to mind.

And if by noon I have too much of these,

I have but to turn on my arm, and lo,

The sunburned hillside sets my face aglow,

My breathing shakes the bluet like a breeze,

I smell the earth, I smell the bruisèd plant,

I look into the crater of the ant.

 Robert Frost

Here is mine.

The World of Night.

Celestial bodies through the dark give light,

Headlights meld with the pinpricks of the stars

Below are seen the lesser lights of cars

Above, eternal luster; glowing bright.

Two worlds combine, and yet they never fight.

Beauty of the natural light doesn't mar 

The image of the headlights from afar.

Both add to the loveliness of the night.

And night, waxing old, will soon see a change.

As wakening dawn, a greater light brings

The rebirth of day. The morning lark sings.

Though the nightengale finds this new song strange

remembering the beauties of the dark

And mocking the melody of the lark.

Alayna Een

Is it cheating to use a poem I wrote more than a year ago?

Most certainly. But it's my blog. I didn't write anything really great this week, and if I had, it probably would have been .... not great. Just like this week was.

Songs for the Story

I don't always do homework, but when I do, it's Mr. Mast's.

True Story.

Anyway, once a semester he assigns a creative project. JUST once a semester because he claims to find some discomfort in assigning a grade to a person's creative endeavors. I can most certainly understand this. It's one of the reasons that I believe it is impossible to for a dedicated student to fail an art class. And yet, you have to do something actually good. It doesn't matter if it was created with in the best of dedication and artistic purpose. Someone else has to think that it is good.

Last semester I did a newspaper for Macbeth which was, in all due modesty, incredibly awesome.
(I do believe I blogged about it. And so I did. Just a bit of Macbeth.)

Anyway, this semester, I wrote a song for the book by Józef Teodor Konrad Korzeniowski, "Heart of Darkness."  My dear friend Emily is playing the piano to Kelly Clarkson's song,"Dark Side." And I... wrote the lyrics. They are lame and cheesy. But I've committed myself to them (and poor Emily has already learned the accompaniment. So it is certain.)
So, I am counting them as my words for this week. It'll make a nice break from college essays, anyway.

"There's a place, it's the Congo. It's not pretty there, and few will ever go.
If I took you to there now, would it make you go insane?
What would you say? Would you sell your soul?
Would you trade it all for power, let your heart turn black and cold?
Can you see the Horror in your soul? Would you letter the Horror take control?
Everybody's heart has darkness, don't let that be your weakness?
Don't listen to the Jungle's whisper, all its plans are sinister!
It's kind-of murky. Everything is kind-of murky.
The Natives work all day, but there's nothing they achieve.
They slave away while we collect the ivory.
Escape from this futility. Can this river lead you back to me?
 Everybody's heart has darkness, don't let that be your weakness?
Don't listen to the Jungle's whisper, all its thoughts are sinister!
It's kind-of murky. Everything is kind-of murky.
Don't go insane, don't go insane. The jungle plays with your brain, the Jungle just plays it's game.
Don't go insane, don't go insane. The jungle plays with your brain, the Jungle just plays it's game.
It's kind-of murky....... ohhhhh.....
Everybody's heart has darkness, don't give into that weakness!
Don't listen to the Jungle's whisper, all its plans are sinister!
It's kind-of murky. Everything is really murky.
Don't go insane, don't go insane.
It's all a game the Jungle plays."


And of course, just a few moments before I finished writing these lyrics.... I came up with another idea for the OTHER book we read. "The Stranger." SO although I'll never use it for anything... and it isn't complete... here it is. (Eliza. Don't read this, it'll spoil part of the book and Mr. Mast would never forgive it.)




The Arabian Rhapsody.
"Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide
No escape from reality
Open your eyes
Look up to the skies and see
I'm just a poor boy, have you no sympathy
Because I'm easy come, easy go
A little high, little low
Anyway the wind blows, doesn't really matter to me, to me

Maman, I just killed a man
Held a gun and shot him dead
Pumped his body full of lead
Maman, my life had just begun
But now I've gone and thrown it all away
Maman, ooo
Sorry I didn't cry
At your funeral, but if I die tomorrow
Carry on, carry on, because nothing really matters
It's too late, my time has come
Sends shivers down my spine
Body's aching all the time
Goodbye everybody - I've got to go
Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth
Mama, ooo - (anyway the wind blows)
I don't want to die
I think about the appeal all the time!

I see a little silhouetto of a man
Salamano, Salamano, looking for his dog-o
The sun is very blinding - very very frightening me
Gallileo, Gallileo,
Gallileo, Gallileo,
Gallileo Figaro - magnifico

But I'm just a poor boy and nobody loves me
He's just a poor boy and hasn't any family
Spare him his life from this monstrosity
Easy come easy go - will the verdict let me go
Bismillah! No - we will not let you go - let him go
Bismillah! We will not let you go - let him go
Bismillah! We will not let you go - let me go
Will not let you go - let me go (never)
Never let you go - let me go
Never let me go - ooo
No, no, no, no, no, no, no -
Oh there's a jury on a streetcar, will this jury let me go?
The family has a devil and the devil's son is me.
is me
is me

So you think you can doom me and spit in my eye
So you think you'll forget me and leave me to die
Oh jury - can't do this to me jury
Just gotta get out - just gotta get right outta here

Ooh yeah, ooh yeah
Nothing really matters
Anyone can see
Nothing really matters - nothing really matters to me

Anyway the wind blows..."

And with that.... I am done.

Something new... what to do?

The number of "couples" that I know has increased exponentially in just a short amount of time.

(And yes. I mean more than one. I'll be talking about different people/situations in this blog, so don't think I'm singling out a certain person/couple.)

Although I am unquestionably happy for these individuals, I am also utterly baffled.

Not by the fact that they are in relationships per se (although, that's new too), but that I have no idea how to act about it.

I always knew that these girls were great. Now guys are starting to take notice. 

My friend has been in her first "real" relationship. He asked her if she wanted to be his girlfriend, and she was like, "Heck, why not?" ......it didn't last more than a week. It's a High School thing, I guess. 

Another friend had her first major High School crush. This lasted MUCH LONGER.... but died off fast after some Facebook stalking revealed a secret girlfriend. 

My sister is in a pretty serious relationship now. It's her first, but it's serious because she's the kind of girl who doesn't play around with things like this. 

My sister (but not by blood) has been on several consecutive dates and "hang out" sessions with an old friend who recently returned from his mission. I'm not very well-informed on this one. And I don't know how much to assume.

My younger sister was asked to Homecoming. Something in all my years of eligibility in High School dances... I've certainly never accomplished. 

And then there's the guys who constantly seem to fill the inbox of a few of my friends' phones with messages that would be far too awkward to say aloud. This baffles me. Why would you text something that no normal human being would ever, under any circumstances say to another person's face?

I'm too busy wondering how I'm supposed to react to all of these changes to wonder why I'm being left out. 

I have about a million things running through my head. 

I should be supportive, but is it ok to joke.... is it too early on?

 I didn't think it was a big thing and then I find out it is.

How much attention is too much attention? 

I don't want to be anybody's mother, "So, how is So&so.... have you two held hands yet?" But I still want to know. Is it ok to bring it up in normal conversation?

Am I reading too much into things... or not enough?

We used to joke about finding our eternal companions after the second coming "I'm holding out for my Hun!" saying we'd have to wait to get some guy that was killed prematurely in some awful war and still deserves love.

And right now it seems like I'm the only one still on that path. Things change so quickly. 

Some things are incredibly fleeting and others, as my dear sister says, "could go on for awhile." 

Which means that I'll probably get used to seeing loved ones in relationships. Eventually.

But it makes sense that I'll have to learn to be comfortable around/interacting with couples before I can foreseeably be part of one. 

But don't worry. It'll be a little while longer before I am comfortable with either of these ideas or realities.

March 3rd

I always have fantastical and truly meaningful plans to commemorate special events.
And I never quite meet them.
So, since I couldn't quite do all of the things I wanted to do to celebrate my big sister's 21st birthday, I figured that a blog post was the absolute least I could do.
And it won't be half as good as it should be, because I've been busy all day (but I did TALK to you, so that certainly counts for something) and it's already quite late.
So maybe I'll just sum up some other things I've said about you on here since your last birthday.

I just want to say, Happy Birthday, to Aria, my big sister, one of the special people in my life.

Growing up you were always there, so I kind of took it for granted. But since you've been gone, I realize how much I'm missing without you here. You are incredibly independent and self sufficient, but still willing to accept help. You go on adventures, and live in a magical place, and smile all the time. You're that person that everyone knows and no one dislikes.

You've changed for the better because of your incredible discipline and the inspiring goals you set for yourself. You are really are "some lady."

And to wrap it up... a blast from the seemingly distant past...
from a moment of untainted honesty.
"You are my role model. I am sometimes in your shadow. Sometimes, people think that I am you. I'm not, and never will be. I grew up with you, but now that we have both grown up so much, I see you as such a different person. An amazing person. I love you. You were always a family member, but now I see that you are a person too. I have seen a different side of you, and I know you on a different level. We don't communicate a lot, but when we do, it's always loving. I look forward to electronically following you on your adventures."


Adventure is out there... and you sure know how to find it.





*EVENTUALLY I will do something "tangible" for your birthday... but don't hold your breath.

Essay on JFK

February 27th was the day 90% of remaining scholarships were due. Which means that for this week's "Words," I present you with.... an essay.
I wrote a fair few of them, changing a few words here and there to make it work for the slightly altered prompt, but this one was unique. I can't really use it for anything else, and it's pretty dang good... and the chance that someone else will somehow find this on the internet, steal it, and turn it in for their own scholastic use is downright unlikely.
So here it is. You can read it if you like. It is (be impressed!) exactly 500 words... which was the maximum. So here you go.

Essay on JFK quote. “ Let us think of education as the means of developing our greatest abilities, because in each of us there is a private hope and dream which, fulfilled, can be translated into benefit for everyone and greater strength for our nation.”

In my life, I have friends who excel at different subjects. Emily is the mathematician, I’m the history buff, and Dawn is the musician. We are unique, with different ambitions and abilities. Through a good college education each of us will be able to do what we love, be who we want to be, and bless the lives of those in our communities, states, and nation. As John F. Kennedy once so wisely said, “Let us think of education as the means of developing our greatest abilities, because in each of us there is a private hope and dream which, fulfilled, can be translated into benefit for everyone and greater strength for our nation.” The promise our youth is dependent upon a good education, a dream, and the desire for a better world.

The purpose of education is to amplify or expand upon existing talents, and nurture the acquisition of knowledge in other areas. This “general education” helps our youth to become better future voters, citizens, and life-long learners. But as great as a “general education” is, it is insufficient to “develop our greatest abilities” in the manner to which the JFK quote refers. Our greatest attributes will be no more than a moderate advantage in daily life, if we do not seek to improve and strengthen them by the acquisition of a specified college education. Education is the key to success, the refiner’s fire of raw talent, and the only sure method by which an individual can reach his or her full potential. 

As elemental as an education is, it’ll amount to nothing without the drive of a dream. Education may be the key to success, but what good is a key if you don’t use it? The “private hope and dream” of young people is the only thing that can motivate them to use their “key,” their wealth of newfound knowledge, to actually accomplish something. A dream may be influenced by people met and things done, but a dream is quintessentially the product of the dreamer. That original and untainted idea… Who do I want to be? What do I want to accomplish? That idea is a part of that person’s soul. No one can give you a dream. It must come from deep inside, it must be your passion, and it must be your drive. And when this dream is made possible through education, the future will be bright with endless possibilities to bless the lives of others.

What will the youth of our nation do with their abilities? Where do their dreams drive their efforts on the many pronged path to success? I know that Emily will be a high school math teacher, using her love of mathematics to inspire and enrich the minds of future students. Dawn will use the Arts to bring beauty and color to the world. Their dreams, along with those of untold millions of other youth, will finally be “translated into [the] benefit for everyone and greater strength for our nation.”