Tuesday, September 30, 2008
So... as I tried to type on facebook moments ago...
I am currently
#1. paying bills
#2. listening to Infrared Roses [among other "spaces"] by The Grateful Dead
#3. figuring out how to separate my "friends" on facebook into manageable sections so as to not have ...like 20 responses to "being friends" on facebook when I've been friends for years with them [well, some of them, anyway] face to face.
#4 checking the tape I'm "taping TV with" to watch at some fictitious point in the future, you know, "when I have time". I did, however, "give in" to one show I like to watch, NCIS. That & "The Unit" are 2 shows I kind of keep up with more than others.
I multi task a bit. I have a thousand things in my head that I want to have already done, but sadly haven't yet. I recently found out that my worst allergy season is... this one.
[switching gears a bit]
This is a slight apology to anyone who knows me & wondered why I put "them" in as my friends & not you, I'm just trying to manage things here a bit. [& sadly I'm not doing very well at it.]
So, if you see me in your "this could be a friend of yours" "column", & want to add Brian Noll
hey, that's cool. You'll know it's me because there will be a few pictures of France & some fractals as my 2 "photo albums" on there. ...and, of course, no picture of me. I hate every picture ever taken of me. [to the dismay of my Mother] How-some-ever, it is a "thing I am working on fixing" [one of the many, as previously stated] ...so who knows?
I must go, I'm working on an email to a friend as well. I'm putting together some poems I've written over the summer [that I will send] & maybe a photo that she could possibly use.
in closing, as Colonel Ryan [the unit] once said:
"have a good 'n"
Saturday, September 27, 2008
I hear the old "...the only thing we have to fear is... fear itself."
The only fear not worth getting over is the fear of The Lord. ...and the greatest fear of God is standing before Him & instead of "well done, My good & faithful servant." ...getting this:
"What... -you mean that's it?" -OUCH.
Ok. time to admit stuff. I love to climb, since I was quite small. I'm afraid -not so much of heights, but the fall from them, the "rapid decent" scares me. But "with a little help from my friends" [sorry] I not only Repelled, & rock climbed a 45 foot cliff... I cliff dived, too. AMAZING... but if fear had been left to reign... I'd have never enjoyed "weightlessness", like that. That's just a human example.
I really appreciate a few people who are in my life to spur on my creativity.
I pray for them as well. I'm not the easiest person to know. Not the easiest person to get along with either. Yeah, Carol... not give 100%. -been there, done that, bought the T-shirt.
I laugh at myself for what I fear...& what I don't. I've taken Systema [a Russian Martial Art] & you would be surprised by what scares me. As I type this I'm smiling over the old A-Team show. Rough, tough MR. T... afriad to fly. Could beat anyone up...afraid to fly.
I have been [still somewhat am afraid] to let people know:
I write poems,
I take photos,
I used to play guitar,
I draw, sometimes...
but the thing is... there are times, when I've done any of these & it felt like Jesus walked into the room... sat down near me, ...& smiled. It gives me chills just to think about it. There are a lot of little "admittences" that I'm beginning to get used to. To allow myself to be fearful... & walk toward that fear. I was fearful to send deAnn my first poem, to comment to her blog, to send her my first picture. "she's gonna say: 'LOOK, jerk, quit wasting my time... Got it creep!" fyi -she's never said that. Not once.
I've grown up with this thought from my mom & I feel it from others at times. This feeling that I am "destined for greatness". I'm afraid of greatness. I've seen what greatness can do to an ego.
Doug Pinnick sings it so very well "...little do we really know, the river ego deep & wide..." [from the song: Human Behavior, by King's X]
The only time I loved it, other than with Jesus, [a man getting glory] was with Aragorn from Return of the King. Because he answers "I keep non for myself"
I like watching some TV & some movies. I've gotten amazing things just from trailers [the little adds in theaters about up coming movies].
Hancock is this self absorbed person with an amazing gift, a "reluctant superhero" ...or the "not-so-super" hero. One line grabs me from the trailer for this movie:
“You have a calling. You’re a hero, Hancock. You’re going to be miserable the rest of your life… until you except that”
so... all this long windedness... wonderfully typed "musings"...
are you miserable?
...could it be...
that you are not quite yet...
what you were born to be?
are you creative? have you used it lately?
what ever you do... that brings you & Him closer... please make time for that. You'll never look back & wish you hadn't.
I'm learning to say: "Brian is a creative person."
[you have no idea how badly I want to erase that... but whether I delete it or not... it's true]
I've just about had it screamed to me. I've tried learning to speak French, that phrase... is harder to say, than anything in French.
I'm also learning just how destructive it is ...to let a week go by without using my gifts.
I've said this before, but it seems so much louder now... not being able to snap a few photos or write -for a week- ...I'd rather be dipped naked in rubbing alcohol, & drug slowly across a yard of razorblades.
It makes me a "not fun" person to be with.
Yeah, what if they laugh? what if they go "yuck!", or "I could do better than that!"
...I had a friend, who could draw [I've probably posted this before] he'd throw out his drawings.
I got up, walked over to the trash can, grabbed them out, & reverently flattened them back out. I walked, angrily over to him & said: "don't ever do that to my friend's art again. I don't CARE if you hate it. My friend can draw, he's awesome at it! ...if you want them thrown out... you'll have to do it when I'm not around -got it."
...I never even got letters in the mail without him drawing on the envelope, after that. [& I still have them]
I'm not sure how to end this... so I'll end this by "revisiting" something I talked about earlier.
I said I thought I knew what deAnn would say about my poem: "she's gonna say: 'LOOK, jerk, quit wasting my time... Got it creep!"
below is something she actually said to me...
"You have a voice. Your voice is no less valid than anyone elses. let it speak. don't let it be drowned out."
Don't let yourself be drowned out. You have a voice. Let it speak. Let Him use it. Yeah there are probably things that are pretty dark parts of your story... give them to Him. After all...
where do you think they got the idea for "extreme makeover", anyway?
[...and I'll try to "practice what I type"]
Thursday, September 25, 2008
...yeah, the DC, Marvel heroes.
I feel a connection to them.
I feel a connection between them & Jesus. Tonight [for whatever weird reason] I watched "Smallville" -Superman, the teenage/ young adult years. I'm half watching as I'm trying to set up the DVD/VCR to tape Grey's Anatomy for my wife. On a side note, I have a love/hate relationship to "doing it for her". I like people learning how to do it on their own. They feel smart, perhaps smarter. I like people learning how to think, not what to think. Being needed is nice, but being wanted is devine. It means [or says] we can live without you... but we don't want to.
Ok... back to comics, childhood for some of us. Tonight, for the second time, as I watched a superhero... I saw THE hero in the hero. Again, near the end of the show, "Clark" reaches out to a girl who can "throw fits"... & the planet shakes, & she can make things explode. Clark reaches his hand out, & she says to him "how can you be nice to me? ...after all I've done?" Clark: "You didn't know any better. You listened to the wrong poeple. Come, I will help you learn to use your gifts... for the benefit of others."
...why does this sound like a book that's been around, a lot longer than comics have?
He goes on to say that we all have secrets. Things we don't tell anyone. Gifts that we are afraid to share. What will people think? will they think I need to be locked away? Will they run away? ...or will they want to "study me" like I'm some kind of "neat anomaly"? Or will they simply laugh... "ya call that art? wow... you don't know much about art, do ya? ...I've seen art, & that isn't art."
If you are human, someone does say that to you [just like I hear it].
...thing is, it isn't who I think should say it. It isn't my friends, ...it isn't my parents [but we sadly write our parents off in these matters... unless they actually do say nasty things like that], ...& Jesus certainly does not say that. You will never read in the Bible: "...and God said: 'oops ...I didn't mean to do that. I didn't mean to make them"
So... [don't know about you] why do I live like He does say things like that? ...and how do I stop?
How do I let Jesus [in my own life] walk in as Wolverine. I eluded to another scene, in a superhero story. It's my favorite. I almost lost it in the theater, & cry every time I watch it on disc. To me, it is a comic book, personalized, Good Friday. I talked about it to a friend. After seeing X3: The Last Stand, I emailed him. I titled it "Jesus as Wolverine". The chapter is appropriately called "Because of Love". I can describe it, but it's better witnessed that told. I somehow see myself as Jean, & Jesus as Wolverine. Through out the movie, he never gives up on rescuing her. "You can't save her." Storm says. "I have to try", is his response. I will share their 2 lines at the end of the scene.
Jean: [agrily spits out] "You would DIE for them?!?!"
Wolverine: "...no Jean, not for them...for you"
I walk through
the woods today
a lost prince
his beloved King
like a strange
"shadow of a 'rough
around the edges' hero"
of a long lost
I drink in
the world has
[over the last 3 years]
like it was
"tired of itself"
but as You
seem to keep
[or is that with?] me
it is always
the most dry
it felt like
it was raining
all the time
-it still does
it is a different
-in new, vivid colors
all I see
all I smell
is not as dark
is less hopeless
like a flower
in the desert
...but I have
I see that I can
"self made trap"
like it out here
[...currently listening to "Children of the Chosen" by Neal Morse, & "I Just Wanna Live" by King's X. The Morse tune, for a few friends who rely on me to tell them about new Morse stuff. Is available as a free, single version, from nealmorse.com, & is from the upcoming disc "Lifeline". It sticks in your head, Morse is very good at this. This also, is the first disc since his convertion that is not a concept disc]
Thursday, September 18, 2008
I have allergies. My running joke is:
"I have so many that soon I'll be allergic to having allergies".
-but does that mean I'll be cured?? ...hum.
So almost a week ago, I took Mick to the Conawago Inn. For supper, for our anniversary. We had never been there. She loves to try new things. On special occasions. Especially on these times -I don't. Too much can go wrong. Well, Fri. went well. [for you vegetarians, I'm sorry] I tried a meal of pork chops with a raspberry & strawberry gaze on them -amazing. Turns out Mick works with the owner so he went "all out" for us. His wife sang to us at the end [those who know me know I was very self concious -I positively despise being the center of attention], it was very sweet & touching. Also, he gave us a complimentary glass of wine. [for the very first time in my life I realize why, at my cousin's wedding, the French gave us so many different wines with each course. As -to me anyway- this wine, didn't seem to go with what I ate/was eating. More on my "French Connection" & maybe some pic.'s later]
What does all this have to do with allergies? -or down as a location??
I now have food allergies. Wonderful, I was bored with the other ones anyway. Not to mention used to them. Before Fri. I had one. A wonderful, kind, & artistic friend of mine makes a [sorry for the pun] "killer" carrot cake. "Tres Manifique" as the French say. [or less formally, "oo la la"]
Unfortunately, I'm allergic to carrots. The technical term for my allergy is "Cross Polination" which means that I'm not actually allergic to them. I can not have them during my "peak allergy times" as they become a "last straw", when combined with the allergies to: grass, hay, pollen, pet dander [read as: skin], rag weed, dust, [not making this up] Smut -never liked Playboy anyway -oops, not that kind of smut [but I can pretend], smoke [i.e. cigars, cigarettes, ...], ... I'm sure I've left some out.
I woke up Sat. to a swollen tongue, dizziness [could hardly stand up all day, fell a few times], sore slightly swollen throat, a headache from the back of my left eye down to my throat. However, I could breathe fairly well. [those who are familiar with food allergies know that you can go into anaphalactic shock, & even die from a food allergy] I think I was awake -collectively- for maybe an hour or two on Sat. to go from sleeping in bed, to sleeping on the floor, to sleeping on the couch, [repeat]. I watched 5 or 10 min. of the beginning of about 3 movies & 2 shows. I was supposed to be serving on Sun. [A/V "tech" team, on camera]. I was stuck at home all weekend. It was pretty much unsafe for me to walk, let alone drive. I guess now would be a good time to state that: a) I hate asking for/needing help [with the white hot intensity of a 1,000 suns] b) I cannot state strongly enough my distaste of feeling trapped in any way. I am an "always have an exit" kinda guy. I hide this, at times, by allowing certain people I trust to "be in the way"/ blocking an exit. I do that because I know [usually by looking at them] that if I need to leave they will "not stop me". Not even as a joke. I'm not at a really phobic state about it. But I do get uncomfortable with it, especially at certain times or in certain situations.
The dizziness wasn't as bad as it sometimes paralizingly has been. And is not connected "per se" to my allergies [the ENT: Ear Nose & Throat doctor, is working to asertain where this is coming from. My worst dizzy spells mean laying on the floor only. And -this being the weird part- I feel better if I'm on the floor in the basement than on the floor in the living room [one floor above], & better on the living room floor than on the floor in the bedroom. [again, bedroom is on the 2nd floor. So, the closer to ground level I am the better.]
I have another appointment with the ENT on Oct. the 20th. To give me a balance test. My Systema instructor would laugh at my having my balance tested. "he has better balance than I do", he's said. I was also told to "bring someone", as I won't be able to drive myself home. Can't wait. [heavy sarcasm] Actually if it gives me too much of a problem I may get sick riding home, which concerns me.
All of which gives me a bit of a depressed feeling overall. I feel so weak/stupid/worthless when I'm stuck on the floor. almost like a broken toy.
Well, I must "get on with it".
Packing for a trip to the cabin with my wife. [where I'll spend a little time figuring out what God wants me to do about the 2 groups I'm in this fall.]
I have to rest, we [both her & I, & God & I] need to talk. Hopefully this will be restful for her back, which she has a lot of trouble with. So I've got dishes, laundry, & things to do. I need to finish packing [both "normal" stuff & writing stuff. going into nature intensifies my love of creation/need to be creative. Maybe I'll post a new poem when I get back.]
I also watched a show with Mick that delt with death. [I'll have to post on this later, along with other thoughts]
for now, I leave with another poem that I wrote a long time ago now...
The war for normal[edited version]
To bleed my conversations
The same ground
To be understood
To “say it right”
Why is communication so hard
Why am I so immobilized
By how I really feel?
Why does it seem
Like there’s an ocean
Why must it be so thick?
Why must the wall
That separates us
Be so hard to
Telling about myself,
And my feelings
Feel so much
Like a steel cage match?
Why do I feel
Being held down
Like there’s duck tape
Over my mouth
Like there's a knife
To my throat?
Why is talking such a struggle?
Telling my story
Seem like a crime?
…and why do I
That my story will one day
Be very public?
Please help me
Please keep them
From giving up on me
Please help them understand me
[as best as one can without living my nightmare]
Please help me understand them[..& keep me from pushing them away all the time]
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
you are not my friend
I don’t know why
I spend so much time with you
you really can’t hate me
Then again, you cannot love me
you’d have to be alive
To do either one
But I carry you with me
I just have to stop
Gotta put you down
Cause I’m tired of you
Bringing me down
Getting in the way
Of The One
And those He sent to me
When I see you
…I cannot see them
I don’t care if I hurt you
…but I don’t want to
Hurt them anymore
They love me
yep, they probably will hurt me
But at least they might apologize
you never will
you are a part of me
Part of the story that is me
But not the complete package
you are a poison
a prison cell
a spiritual cancer
I don’t have to live in your town
I don’t really have to visit, either
So I guess I’m just trying to say
That I’m leaving you
For actual people
People who give a damn
…not my friend
I've been feeling down, lately. So I haven't posted for a while.
If you can't improve upon the silence,
-don't end it.
As I have ..."processed through the darkness" of my own story, I have been able to watch/ read through a plethora of things that are every emotion that one can have. At least in regard to the "dark night of the soul". Some of it is jarring, it almost seems like they want to hurt you so you understand how hurt they are. [like they will feel better if you hurt like they do. I won't feel any better if you hurt like I do, or feel like a freak -like I sometimes do.]Somethings, though they mean well, are just to shallow to really feel like they understand what a person has been through. They want to show Jesus as our hope... but they make Him seem fake [at least to me]... kind of like a cardboard cutout. And, whether it's through: poetry, this blog, or conversations with others... I would really like to walk a fine line between "vividly painting the reality of the pain we feel" & the truth that there is hope. [...& perhaps that hope is a person, who is running toward us, rather than running away from or hiding from us] This would, of course, be easier if... I didn't feel that He is running from me sometimes. [or if He isn't running from me -He should be]
One of my favorite song writers is Neal Morse. He expresses this last sentence best when he sings "...all I have is Yours, [laughs] I don't have much to give -but a heart that needs forgiving. The flesh is tired, but the spirit's willing..." from the song Father of Forgiveness. [Basically the story of the prodigal son as a song]
Pastor Brian mentions the "depravity & the glory". Neal writes very well about both -sometimes within the same song- pretty much on every one of his discs since his crossing the line of faith.
I love the honesty & the fact that he doesn't end "down in the dumps". Neal is one of the few songwriters who can make me cry listening to his stuff. On a disc titled "?" [said: question mark] Neal writes about the tabernacle. He writes [from the "down/ depressed" feeling]
"...I'm a mistake
i guess i was
made this way
...there must be a place
but i'm outside looking in
they all look so pretty
but i feel so ugly..." [from Outside Looking In]
a few tracks later he writes from the perspective of having God restore their relationship, & the symbolism of the temple:
"...from a list of laws
seeing all our flaws
to the blind
we are all the same
our High Priest
to make us all as one
...& God's Spirit poured out
to all the one's without
now the temple
the Living God
is you..." [from Inside His Presence]
This song is part of a playlist between God & me. Songs that are "Us".
I use a line from another song Neal wrote as the title:
" ...and my soul has been kissed, just because You exist..."
From the song "Wind at My Back", from Snow, by Spock's Beard.
[a concept album -that is to say, the album is like a book & each track is a chapter in the story. This story is the testimony of a character named John Snow]
...so, anyway, I felt down for a few weeks. [this happens to me now & again]
This is a poem I wrote after feeling down,
"curling up" with my sadness, acting like it was my friend...
[please forgive the 4 letter word in here -I'm posting it as it's written]
I will post the poem if I can find out what I'm doing wrong