there is neither speech nor word

Elisabeth Caterina

2009-05-28T22:48:00.003-04:00

My mother is, surprisingly, not a woman I know an awful lot about. I realized this when I stumbled upon an open photo box filled with pictures of her and my dad long before i was ever a part of their life.

They looked so different. They smile differently, they have 'weird' hair and clothes, they are entirely different people.

And yet, something that is weird for me to realize, they were people long before i came along. Real people with real lives and loves and ambitions and dreams and faith and real things.

And all of a sudden I am part of their life.

This is my mother, a real person. Sometimes I forget that she is more than my mother and I disrespectfully leave her in my wake.

She smiles wide. She can take a joke. I haven't the foggiest clue what her favourite flowers are, because no matter what flowers you bring home, she always says they are her favourite.

She's that kind of person.

On thought.

2009-03-11T10:48:00.002-04:00

I been doing a little creeping around the internet to assuage my curiousity, and discovered something strange. Well, not strange so much as new. I happened upon a blog that interested me, and decided to trace back to its very beginning. This young writer has been 'penning' thoughts since the beginning of 2003. That was six years ago, and a couple extra months for good measure. Six years ago I had no idea how to think, I thought the world revolved around me, and didn't try to understand who God is and what his relationship is to me. I felt and acted on it, and that's were it ends. This person has been writing poignant thoughts that mystify me because they are coming out of a mouth and a mind that is not only beyond my comprehension, but also a bunch of years younger than me. I have no idea what to do with that. Everything that this person thought when they were 15 I am just being introduced to and I am nearly in my 20th year. That weirds me out. I realize that I don't know how to read and I realize that I might not even know how to think.

how's that for a wakeup call?

Humeur enfantine

2009-02-11T13:41:00.002-05:00

Qui a su que cela utilisant un traducteur en ligne apprendre la langue inadéquate dans une langue étrangère pourrait être tellement amusement ?

Cliquez sur ic i

All We Are Saying, Is...

2009-01-21T10:27:00.002-05:00

I have a confession to make.

I hate green peas.

I hate them. My family all knows it, they have lived with me for a while. But still, whenever my family makes pasta stir fry or rice or potatoes or anything like that, I swear the thought goes through their head "Well, this is a perfectly good meal! How could I make Ben not like it? I know!" and then they proceed to extract a yellow tin of peas, break the cryogenic seal (because I swear these things taste like they went through the Ice Age) and then dump the greasy and slimy contents into a microwaveable dish -because they weren't mushy enough before!- and nuke the shit out of them until they are a huddled army advancing on my well-guarded pork chop from an outer fringe of my plate. I refuse to eat them, or even give them a chance at redeeming themselves. MY dad always says "Just line them up in your mouth, and then send them one by one down your throat." I imagine the Chinese go to him when they need new ideas for water torture.

My family just stares every time I systematically remove each pea from my meal, and I graciously decline to comment on their insensitivity for adding them in the first place. I have tried to like them, truly, and have attempted to imagine they are tiny angels playing in my mouth. But how can you eat an angel? so I project them back out, because these angels taste an awful lot like a certain sad-excuse for a vegetable.

Last night I can home from work at 8 and opened the oven a crack to see whether there was some sort food compiled on a plate intended for me to eat. And to my dismay a pile of peas, a mountain of peas engulfed a collection of garlic potatoes and a juicy pork chop. Guilt by association, and I closed the oven door.

The only thing worse than peas for dinner is cold leftover peas.

I will not give peas a chance.

Something to Show

2009-01-13T18:59:00.002-05:00

After presentations made by two of my classmates of songs they had written and performed, and another wise man's 20th birthday, I've been struck with a crazy question: In my nineteen and a half years of life, what have I got to show for the time that I have been here? Certainly I have not made any forays into the dark and mysterious world of Independence (I still live at home with my mom...) and have not nearly left any sort of legacy or proof of my 'meaningful' existence behind were I to die on my four-second walk home from work this evening. This is merely an observation and not a plea for pity, but honestly, what have I got to show for the time that I have been placed on this earth by God? Is he proud with the mediocre work that I've done, with the person that I have become in this short period of time? With 19+1/2 years behind me, and a brand new one ahead of me, how do I make the 'utmost' (as the aforementioned mother always says) of this huge opportunity which is my existence without royally fucking it up? I am not songster or poet, and a barely-credible artist, so I don't dare compare myself to those who are legititmate examples of these, but how do I change, both by being effected and also in affecting. I would like the thank the new prevalence of philosophy and the analytic view of life that those who study and teach philosophy have afforded to my new outlook on life. This seems like the opportune moment to put pen to paper or brush to canvas or throw clay to a wheel, or something. Where is this going? Really, I couldn't tell you if you asked me.

Fill in the_____.

2008-12-15T10:27:00.003-05:00

Have you ever felt that something is telling you that where you are looking is the wrong place for what you are trying to find, and that there is nothing where you are right now? How do you make the move? Would you wait until there was something? How do you reconcile the desire for the familiar, and the desire for that which provides a form of catharsis or completion? Where is your home?

Only at Christmastime

2008-12-09T11:52:00.002-05:00

This Yuletide season, I'm looking forward to a number of things that I might be able to do. Among them are:reading a book that I want to read and don't have to read, painting, walking in the cold, watching a movie without feeling guilty, enjoying gifts regardless of what they are because someone went shopping just for me, eating food I normally wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole (olliebollen, gingerbread, eggnog) and then realizing why I hate it and never eating it again until next Christmas, chilling with my family and doing dumb-family things, cleaning my room, thinking about peace, criticizing the consumerist holiday practices of North America, participating in them, reflecting on the real reason for Christmas, anticipating the December 25th morning service at my church, and sleeping.
I really think that this Yule I will actually find rest, and enjoy it for the quiet vacation it could be.

Just Your Standard Invasion.

2008-10-20T11:09:00.005-04:00

Relinquish
Our
Best
Opinions
To
System

Fish and Millgrove. Me and My Home.

2008-10-10T16:56:00.005-04:00

2008-10-02T12:56:00.001-04:00

I seriously stole this picture (the one up top) from Kate Keep's facebook album, but so what? It's just till I start learning how to load pictures from my own camera.

2008-08-14T18:16:00.003-04:00

It might not be my place to say it, but I hope this man ends up in heaven. Something makes me think that eternity would be a great time to spend with him. And with Him, of course.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uceNZtKZAnc

2008-05-30T19:55:00.002-04:00

Dear friend.
I want to hear your voice.
I want not to speak but only to hear,
to listen and comprehend and understand you
so that you understand that I am listening
and always want to listen.
Your problems are real, as are my own
to share them lifts burdens and brings closer to home,
eases aches, builds bridges, and tears down cold thrones.
Dear friend, I am waiting to listen again.
Share with me -yell to me- so your voice will not drown.
A hand from the pit, a rope down the well
Open your voice, I'm heart and ear for you now.

2008-05-23T20:02:00.000-04:00

Debt-paying-off = good.

'Nuff said.

Monitor Your Vertigo

2008-05-13T22:52:00.002-04:00

If you are an unstable person, as I am, you may sometimes feel like you are falling into your computer screen after long periods (10 min. record) of ponderously poring over pixelated images. Even as I check my email I feel like, if I let go of the armrests, I will plunge headlong into the gravity-less cyber world. Thinking about this is making me carsick. One cannot rest his head against the monitor itself to regain balance, because ones breath fogs up the screen. A catch-22 if you ask me.

In other -more specific less weird- news, I apoligize in advance for not replying to you or striking up contact/conversation with you (because everyone knows that Facebook does not equal real conversation) my excuse being that I work most of the time, and only check my email some of the time. It used to be usually, but fell to only some of the time due to lack of Internet access at 'functioning hours' i.e. not late at night, not early in the morning.

And... I bought work boots!

Call me Mr. Maniacal

2008-03-25T19:29:00.003-04:00

Sometimes when I am having a bad day at work I purposely put books out of order to mess the other people up. It makes me feel all toasty inside.

*Addition*
I also like to make words or sentences with the labels on the spines to say weird things. Most people don't catch that though, which is good news for me.

Stranger-Danger? Or Something Else Altogether.

2008-03-03T23:04:00.002-05:00

I find people so interesting. I have always loved watching people come and go and interact in a place like the mall or at school. What annoys me is that the self-appointed judges of mankind of my highschool ruined people watching for me. Admittedly there is a fine line where people-watching does cross into the creepy area. I have seen it many times before, also been a victim of it once or twice. What is acceptable behaviour when people watching. Is it acceptable to approach the subject of an amusing episode or someone needing help and admit that you have noticed them? Is it okay to walk up to a total stranger and offer help? Staring gets weird, so what is an appropriate amount of time to watch, or to sit back and enjoy the flow of people. Is it acceptable to (potentially) lipread someone's conversation? What about eye contact? A big no-no?
I personally enjoy people watching, but feel bad when people noticed that I have noticed them. Other times, I wonder if I could have benefitted from a stranger's help, or could have been part of a memory that someone will never forget. Strangers are interesting people because they are unknown.
Finally, how can we see Christ in the actions, the lives, and the interactions of perfect strangers? We don't often know if the person is a Christian or not, but sometimes we can see it.
Share a story about a stranger or strangers. I'd like to understand how others approach the activity of people-watching and stranger interaction.

Shame is the colour of my cheeks.

2008-02-21T18:24:00.003-05:00

So, I am very ashamed of myself.
I attempted to sacrifice the useless-internet-time-wasting-I-have-been-prone-to for Lent. (You can read that sentence twice, I'll wait for you to catch up.) I told myself that I wouldn't blog, wouldn't read blogs, wouldn't surf the dreaded YouTube, wouldn't facebook, and generally would just limit my internet time to email and stuff for school. Recently a friend drew a Grafitti (sp?) on my wall and I just HAD to see it, so I logged on to facebook, now I am doomed. I am kind of wondering whether I would be able to do a do-over. Start Lent again with about half as many days as it started with originally. Would that work? Or is that morally cheating? I think Lent is kind of like the romanticized (not kissy-kissy romantic) Christmas feeling: that Lent is all year round because we cherish what it means in our hearts. Yes? No? I don't know. Turns out reading week didn't yield a lot of reading. Ironic, isn't it.

I Wouldn't Mind

2008-02-04T10:23:00.000-05:00

Really wouldn't mind giving up the internet, if only I wasn't so connected to it. It is a major source of distraction/time-wasting/weakness for me. Wouldn't be mad if my life didn't revolve around it.

2008-01-11T10:04:00.000-05:00

I am finally getting better at typing without looking at the keys. It's about time, I think.
In other news, my mp3 player's screen is malfunctioning. Dumb technology.

So, to exhaust the theme:

2008-01-02T15:28:00.000-05:00

Well, Happy New Year all. 2008 looks promising.

As this winter theme has been touched upon already, I would like to say that:

Winter is like a beautiful woman I see every day, but am too embarrassed to tell her how gorgeous I think she is.

A draw between naive optimism and poisonous pessimism.

2007-12-18T17:40:00.000-05:00

Today I realized on my walk to work that I fit right down the centre. I am not too optimistic that I deny the realities that are often negative and depressing. I am not so pessimistic that it taints my view of what my Governor and Creator has put here for me. I find that I fit right down the centre of many lines, except the gender line of course. No need to discuss that further.
Fitting right down the centre causes me to 'get it'. I can 'get' that many people find that their life is meaningless and meagre and their existence is merely a snowflake that melts without anyone's second notice. I also get that people can see how beautiful the world is, and approach every situation with a positive outlook. Many people can see winter, for example, as a time of desolation, where the life has been stripped off the world and what we are left with is skeletal winter trees and cold brown slush on the roadsides. I can also see the beauty in winter, and picture God as an artist who is highlighting the intricacies of his work with whites and bright lights. The snow lies on the ground to cover the brown barrenness. This statement is neither pessimist nor optimist, I think. Maybe a shred of both, slicing down the centre, just like me.

In short, I can see the need for hope, but I can also see the promise that has been given me, and the truth that will have to tide me over until then. Winter is delicate and yet powerful.

Sentence lifted.

2007-12-15T12:26:00.000-05:00

I cannot even believe how relaxing and well, awesome it is to be done exams and such and still have three weeks calendar year to go. I want to spend wisely. It looks like there will be a lot of book-reading, walking in the snow, sleeping, drawing, talking, laughing and a whole heckuvalot of love going on. I'm excited.
On a more sombre note, Christmas shopping still has not been completed, neither has Christmas working (because I would rather make something for someone than buy them a generic "I don't know you at all" gift.) Really, I'm not looking forward to going out in that madness and chaos and crying and yelling and pushing and shoving. And then when we get out of the parking lot we have to go into the mall. TASER? No thanks, I'll use my own.
I really want to create a masterpiece (a word which has a phenomenal history behind it) because when I create I think of how my Creator creates. It's fun and awesome.

Do you own a chainsaw I could borrow?

Sentenced.

2007-11-29T10:15:00.000-05:00

"For the record, Your Honour, I am really not excited to be going through with this."

"Yes, Mr. Lootens, we realize that, but this period of labour is necessary for you to move forward in life, and the jury and I all believe this would be best for you."

"I understand that, Your Honour, but are you certain it is the best course of action for me, with my history of procratination and disregard for important issues in my own life?"

"We're hoping that this won't be a problem, Mr. Lootens, and that you will finish these essays so that you, as well as the rest of those here present in this courtroom, can be proud of what you have accomplished, instead of half-assing (pardon my slang--"Certainly, Your Eminence."-) your way to the end of the semester."

(Sigh) "Yes, sir. This rings true."

"Alright then, Mr. Lootens. 'By order of the court, I hereby sentence you to two essays, one final project, four exams (two on the same day --"(groan)"--), and a crapload of readings to do before the end of next week. And you have a history assignment due before Saturday afternoon, but you better get it done on Friday because the whole court knows you never do any real work on Saturdays." (gavel bangs)

"Yes, Your Pompousness."

"HEY! You're cruisin' for a bruisin', pal."

"I'm sorry, Your Highne-I'm mean Honour."

"Court is adjourned!" (gavel sounds again)

How oblivious

2007-11-09T15:50:00.000-05:00

God shows me his love in the love other people show me. God speaks to me in the voices of others. Here I was all along waiting for something big, when the whole time the 'little things' have made more of an impact on me than a big thing ever would. Thank you Lord, for the love I recieve.

2007-11-09T15:46:00.000-05:00

Consumerism

2007-10-04T13:43:00.000-04:00

So after spending a fortune, and actually impulse-buying at an Art Store in Hamilton, I find myself thinking of the impact of my money. My own money. At Redeemer (where I go to school now) I find that the group I am hang out with discusses the issue of consumerism often and for a long time. It always seems to come up, whether we mean it to or not, and sometimes in the strangest of places. There are the obvious jumping-off-points for the discussion in a conversation about shopping, but I find it creeping in as soon as someone starts the sentence "I want..." It really makes me think about where my money is going, and whether it could be put to good use somewhere else. As a rule I try to limit my clothes-buying habits, and I don't think that I'm a bad steward of my money, but a true feeling of satisfaction seems to be lacking when I buy stuff. Am I just being a materialist (in the shopping/retail therapy sense), or am I really swirling my money away into an abyss of printed t's and corrupt corporations, when it could be put to so much better use. What is a better use? The most satisfaction I recieved in swiping that slice of plastic that rules the world, was one time when I boutght someone a tank of gas. A tank of gas! How strange is that, not even a sweet present or something, just a tank of regular octane. Are we as a society nuts, that we have erected, as someone close to me so aptly put it "gigantic temples to the god Consumerism" in the endless shopping malls and "power centres" that pepper our local landscape?
Why does holding on to money in the mall seem so hard? If I don't need anything, why should I want to buy anything? I have said it before and I'll say it again. Money should be abolished.

(This is all stemming from my great dislike for my Intro to Economics class.)

Personal Tirade

2007-10-02T19:00:00.000-04:00

I am virtually kicking myself for forgetting an assignment in my University Economics class. Worth "3 1/3 %" of my total mark. If I needed an expletive moment, it would be now.
And I have a mountain of homework to do for Wednesday (tomorrow) that I cannot possibly finish in the time alloted. Bummer.

University is whupping me like the family pig.

Living a Template

2007-09-14T15:55:00.000-04:00

I find that my life is very cookie-cutter, very un-out-of-the-ordinary. What have I done to live a life that is a fill in the blank version of someone else's life?
I find that the people who make me think the most are the people I feel like a cardboard cutout when I am around them. I pretend, and it seems to me they see right through all of my pretending.

I wait

2007-09-11T22:53:00.000-04:00

Waiting is something I hate doing, but when I look closley, my whole life is waiting for the Great Day. When each day isa minor advancement.
On another note, I believe that all money should be removed and we should return to the bartering system, for sake of ease as well as the current financial situation of a university student.

An open mind directly connected to a big mouth.

2007-07-17T17:54:00.000-04:00

There are instances when I should just keep my mouth shut. Ironically, my favourite 'punishment' is the silent treatment. Maybe I am just giving my family exactly what they want when I am angry.