Turning the key...

Hi all(?)

Been thinking about music recently. more specifically the music I used to listen to alot. Music that I have left behind somewhat, since my life has been maturing and growing. This all came from a conversation during our cell group yesterday. It was a fairly brush-off ice breaker whereby we all (about 12 of us) took it in turns to name and justify our (or one of our) favourite movies. Now, i imagine there have been a million blog posts on this subject so i will not explore it any further.

But, it did have a point. The leader of the discussion ended it by commenting that you can know something about a person from the movies (my interpretation: stories) they hold close to their hearts. This fits in nicely with the ideas of a John Eldredge, who states that the stories that we connect to speak of greater truths in our lives, of our spiritual need, and of the story that has been running through our (and God's) spirit since (and prior to) creation. Now this is something i hope to expore further one day - to help me understand myself, my family and friends, and my relationship with God. But, amidst all the great stories quoted by various members of the group, such as Lord of the Rings, Titanic, Life is Beautiful, The Notebook, Lion King, and Gladiator, the one clear film i could think of is not a film of great story - it is one of life (in that story itself is love, anger, death, passion, and change - the subjects of many of the above), but in a seriously undramatic way. On discussing, it was the sublime 'feel' of the film that came out as the reason why i seem to connect with it. it has a rhythm, a pulse that runs through it (in the score, the editing, and the story) that builds to a minor crescendo, but all in a day, and you finish it knowing that it will all happen again tomorrow, but that nothing is really the same as time goes by. There are two other films seen recently that have affected me so - Garden State, and Crash (the new one...). Either way, there is a pattern. A pattern that seems to spill over in to all of my other heart-stories (love of music, art, prose, etc) that must have some connection. If i can filter out the immediate feelings and pass through the emotional memory, and with prayer, i hope to gain a better understanding of my lost desires - the things my heart need (read: the things God put in my heart). I may use this as a scrapbook of sorts to, or i may not, as recent blogging history has shown - it don't get done to often!

There is something in certain sounds that touch my heart, it's hard to describe, but it's always been there, from the child with his head pressed to the hi-fi speaker straining to to hear the breath of the Andean pipe players as they created mesmerising sounds, to the dark days leading up to my accepting of Christ. I thought i was just being avant garde, the never-ending art student in me - so i left it behind and moved on. But it still talks to me, draws me in, and pulls at my very being.

I'll end with two videos to play at your leisure. The first is a new video of a track by Colleen that i feel has the elements (and I, as a scientist am trying to analysis my feelings, to find a pattern, a governing logic, a unifying factor (which is my belief in God as the source, subject, and goal of this universe) and the source of the longing in me) of my discussion. There are also some mighty nice visuals. Sorry if they're slow to load - that's just life!



Next is an old track by Japanese virtuoso percussionist Asa-Chang featuring Junray, and Hana. This shook me when i heard it, there is no way i can understand the words, they may as well be meaningless, but there is a sublime tension that i just can't place. I don;t get the video, but it was an easy way to get it on here...

You tubing music...

Most of you will have seen the video of Lasse Gjertson on Jon's Blog recently, so I thought that some may find this entertaining:



There is a whole strange world of music out there on Youtube. Some fantastic, some weird, and strangely the majority are filmed in the bedrooms of Asian teenagers!

Oh well

Best of 2006

Ok, following on from Jon's call to arms... Here's a few thoughts from last year.

It's been a seriously full-on year, with the major happenings including: Getting married, moving house, almost buying said house (instead that will have to form the first of 2007's), promotion at work, new car... All of this extra responsibility has come along with a fairly full bag of emotional ups and downs as well. In some ways, emotionally and spiritually, I feel as though I have taken
a step back this year, and where I have grown in some areas of my life, others have diminished. but at least I kind of know where I stand. The year ahead can be seen as a continuation of study, career, but also the start of new things - new house, the next stage of our marriage, and hopefully a growing emotional and spiritual maturity. Here's hoping anyway!

On a lighter note, lets take a look at the highs of the year, in terms of the world of entertainment.

Best Films: Children of Men - Big budget British Sci-fi, a refreshing but harrowing look at a future facing the end of humanity. Could have been utterly rubbish and trite, but a great cast, sensitive story, and fantastic photography make this my top choice. Others include Tsotsi, Everything is Illuminated, and Casino Royale.

Best Books: I've read very little this year, what with all those OU books I have to get through. But a couple of good ones I've skipped through are Gods Generals by Roberts Liardon and The Journey of Desire by John Eldredge.

Best Albums: Cerys Matthews - Never Said Goodbye, A Collision - David Crowder Band, Life in Slow Motion - David Gray, Surprise - Paul Simon, On My Way To You - Rigmor Gustafsson, and the mighty Takk -Sigur Ros . Again, it's been a very slow year musically, but the end of the year has brought around a couple of great live DVDs, namely Ben Folds and WASO (West Australia Symphony Orchestra), and Farewell to the World, the 1996 Final concert by Crowded House, as the play out to Don't Dream It's Over, there is not a dry eye in the 130,000 strong crowd on the steps of the Sydney Opera House...

Best Websites: No Surprises here, really just Flickr, Google's personalised Desktop, and the continuous drooling over Apple.com.

That's it for now, I might even try to write in this thing more than once this year!

The Sea Lion, part 6

Three weeks after the winds ceased to blow, the sea lion had a dream. Now, as I told you before there were other nights in which he had dreamed of the sea, but those were long ago and nearly forgotten. Even still, the ocean that filled his dreams this night was so beautiful and clear, so vast and deep, it was as if he were seeing it for the very first time. The sunlight glittered on its surface, and as he dived, the waters all around him shone like an emerald. If he swam quite deep it turned to jade, cool and dark and mysterious. But he was never frightened, not at all. For I must tell you that, in all his dreams of the sea, he had never found himself in the company of other sea lions. This night there were many round about him, diving and turning, spinning and twirling. They were playing. Oh, how he hated to wake from that wonderful dream. The tears running down his face were the first wet thing he had felt in three weeks. But he did not pause even to wipe them away, he did not pause, in fact, for anything at all. He set his face to the east, and he began to walk as best a sea lion can.

“Where are you going?” asked the tortoise.

“I’m going to find the sea”

The End.

(John Eldredge)

The Sea Lion, part 5

It was in May that the wind began to blow. The sea lion had grown used to wind, and at first he did not pay much heed to it at all. Years of desert life had taught him to turn his back in the direction from which the wind came, and cover his eyes with his flippers so that the dust would not get in. Eventually the winds would always pass, but not this time… Day and night it came, howling across the Barren Lands, there was nothing to stop it’s fury, nothing to even slow it down. For forty days and forty nights the wind blew. And then, just as suddenly as it begun, it stopped. The sea lion lifted himself to have a look around… He could hardly believe his eyes. Every single leaf had been stripped from his tree, the branches that remained with only a twig or two left on them looked like an old scarecrow. And I do not need to tell you that there was no longer any shade from which to hide. But worse than this, much worse indeed, was what the sea lion saw next. The water hole was completely dry.

(John Eldredge)

Te Sea Lion, part 4

The sea lion was not entirely alone in those parts. For it was there he met the tortoise. Now this tortoise was an ancient creature, so weathered by his life in the barren lands that at first, the sea lion mistook him for a rock! He told the tortoise of his plight, hoping that this wise one might be able to help him.

“Perhaps,” the tortoise mused, “ this is the sea”.

His eyes appeared to be shut against the brightness of the sun, but he was watching the sea lion very closely. The sea lion swept his flippers once against his side, gliding to the other side of the water hole and back,

“I don’t know,” he said, “it isn’t very deep”

“Isn’t it?”

“Somehow, I thought the sea would be broader, deeper, at least, I hoped so.”

“You must learn to be happy here” the tortoise told him one day, “for it is unlikely you shall ever find this sea of yours.”

Deep in his old and shrivelled heart, the tortoise envied the sea lion and his sea.

“But I belong to the sea. We were made for each other…”

“Perhaps, but you have been gone so long now, the sea has probably forgotten you.”

This thought had never occurred to the sea lion, but it was true, he had been gone for a long, long time…

“But if this is not my home, then how can I ever feel at home here?” the sea lion asked.

“You will, in time.”

The tortoise appeared to be squinting, his eyes a thin slit.

“I have seen the sea, and it is no better than what you have found here”

“You have seen the sea?!?”

“Yes. Come closer” whispered the tortoise. “and I will tell you a secret. I am a not a tortoise, I am a sea turtle. But I left the sea of my own accord, many years ago, in search of better things. If you stay with me, I will tell you stories of my adventures.”

The stories of the ancient tortoise were enchanting, and soon cast their spell upon the sea lion. As weeks passed into months, his memory of the sea faded,

“The desert,” whispered the tortoise “is that is, or was, or shall ever be.”

When the sun grew fierce and burned his skin, the sea lion would hide in the shade of the tree, listening to the tales woven by the tortoise. When the dry winds cracked his flippers, and filled his eyes with dust, the sea lion would retreat to the waterhole.

And so the sea lion remained, living his days between waterhole and tree.

The sea no longer filled his dreams.

(John Eldredge)

The Sea Lion, part 3

The sea lion loved his rock, and he even loved waiting night after night for the sea breezes that might come. Especially he loved the dreams those memories would stir. But as you well know, even the best of dreams cannot go on, and in the morning when the sea lion woke, he was still in the barren lands. Sometimes he would close his eyes and try to fall back asleep. It never seemed to work, for the sun was always very bright. Eventually it became too much for him to bear. He began to visit his rock, only on occasion. “I have too much to do” he told himself. “I cannot waste my time just idling about”. He really did not have so much to do, the truth of it was: waking so far from home was such a disappointment he did not want to have those wonderful dreams anymore. The day finally came when he stopped going to his rock altogether, and he no longer lifted his nose to the wind when the sea breezes blew…

(John Eldredge)