We're moving!

Hey everyone,

so...It's been a while, but i can finally say that my new Wordpress blog is up and running! It was just time for a move.
here's the link ^_^

https://wordsdreamsphotos.wordpress.com/

hope you enjoy pursuing my posts (: and don't forget to comment! (:

Bros.

My photo shoot with Sarah kinda gave me some inspiration. I took Joel and Caleb out and got some pictures of them too :) It was sorta the same style as Sarah's..just...boys instead of girls haha. It was good :)

 One of my favorites

 I liked the out-of-focus look in this one.

 I used my Polaroid for a prop in some of them :)

 Bros :)

So it was pretty good :) i never know how to end a post about pictures...or how to write them for that matter haha.

**untitled**

Hello. It's been a while hasn't it? i know that's a completely cheesy was to begin a post, but it's true all the same. So while i sit here with my cozy cup of hot chocolate (normally i don't drink hot chocolate, but today is exception...not sure why though) let me tell you...something.

i know lots of people come back to their blogs after a long absence and talk about how they've been way too busy to write anything elementary. I could say that, but i won't. I mean, i have been busy, but that's not why i haven't written. the thing is that i don't really have much to say. I could come on about once a week and say something really bothersome and short, but that would be pointless. you know what I'm saying?

Well, today i took Sarah out for a little mini-photo shoot. It was cold out of doors, so i got Joel's hoodie and a little pink beanie and out we went.These are some of my favorites :)

 Half the time she was sitting on this old desk we have next to our garage.

Not sure which is my favorite..thoughts? :)

Yeah....she got cold and we went inside.

so long.

The Wrong End of a Telescope

The dreary rain knocks with urgency at the window, like a thousand tiny drummers. Upon opening the glass, I stare in amazement as the field in front of me pulls apart, like a mountain from an avalanche or two halves of an Oreo, revealing a large murky swimming pool. After climbing out of my window, I dive in and swim down until I am enveloped in inky blackness, and can see no more. Reaching out my hand, I grasp a brass doorknob and open the mysterious portal, pulling myself through.

Now I’m in a bright, tall chamber, filled with candle chandeliers; each candle extinguishing itself, and then lighting again, creating a rhythmic pattern, like Christmas lights on a crisp December night. To my right, a hundred faceless musicians wearing top hats and bow ties strum upon large silver ukuleles. To my left there is an enormous mahogany bookcase, filled to bursting with aged tomes and ancient volumes of every size and color. A little book keeper stands on a roll away staircase with a crate of books, everlastingly attempting to cram another novel into the sea of hardbacks. Straight ahead, I see a long hall, at the end of which a shiny carousel waits for me. I choose a tall steed, black with a fiery red mane and wild eyes. The carousel turns, slowly at first, but then speeds up, creating a panorama of blurred shapes and colors. When it eventually stops, I clamber down and stumble off and behold the new world in front of me.

Wide-eyed, I walk hesitantly towards the crimson drape, the sort you usually find in an old-fashioned theatre or a certain strange barber shop. When I draw the curtain, instead of seeing the expected crowd of onlookers, I see only a little old man sitting under a spotlight, pulling a bow across his cello strings and creating a tune so melancholy and lachrymose, it feels inescapable. 

Then the violoncellist suddenly looks up, but he has no face. In the place of what would be called a visage, eyes, nose, etc.; he has but a mouth, placed in the very centre of his head. It is withered, but curls up into a sinister grin. 

The walls start to close around me, and the cellist disappears from view. I find a ladder and begin to ascend as fast as possible as the walls press in closer. I reach the ceiling and pound until that section becomes loose. I lift the round object and roll it to the side. 

I emerge from what appears to be a hatch in a great city. All the colors: reds, oranges, blues, etc., had been stripped and replaced with a mottled grey. Turning, I look up and see a gigantic oak. Out of that large tree, flies an enormous eagle with large talons and a beak the size of a sail boat. Going in the opposite direction, I run down the street and hastily enter what appears to be a Shawarma café, the door swinging shut behind me. Everyone in this place stairs at me as if I have three heads or am singing a folk song in a loud, obnoxious voice. Then they seem to shift their accusing gaze to somewhere behind me. I look through the window and see the giant eagle come crashing through the glass, shards spewing everywhere. It snatches me up, blasting through the roof, and swiftly carries me away.

 I try to escape the eagle, and at last succeed and plummet through the air. I land in a vast pool which is full of fat manatees, and whiskery catfish, as well as other strange creatures of unknown origin. Swimming to land, I recognize it to be the very same body of water where my adventures began. As I walk away, it closes up, the earth rolling in mighty waves. I find my house and climb in through the same window. Everything is just as it should be- the same as before. Reality.

This post is a bit superfluous so...

For some reason, I always like to begin my posts by describing something...i don't know why, but that's okay.  

Moonbeams stream through my window, creating a puddle of light on my floor. Pulling open the blinds, I press my nose against the window, fogging up the glass, looking out at the bright moon shining through transparent clouds, creating a silent halo encircling itself, and trying to discern the stars from the airplanes. The song “You’re Beautiful” by Phil Wickham comes to mind. I decide that it’s the perfect time to write down some thoughts in my little blue notebook, fighting off insomnia, by moonlight. You don’t have to read them if you don’t want to, but if you want to, then go ahead. ^_^ 

What is it about the sky? What’s with the starts that are sprinkled so generously across their violet backdrop, or the sun that paints the clouds with pinks and oranges? Why is it that we find the moon, only a reflection of its majesty, so beautiful? Why do we find comfort gazing at something that’s there all the time? 

Maybe because it reminds us that there’s a hope. That we’re not alone, because there’s someone who’s more important than us, who knew us before the beginning of everything.

Well, we appreciate the sky anyway, even if there’s no particular reason other than it just being absolutely marvelous, with all of its constellations, sunrises, sunsets, and eclipses. 

Like i said, there's not special purpose to this post.

I’ve decided to read Les Miserables by Victor Hugo before December 25^th when the movie comes out, if it kills me. So far I’m doing alright. I just love the way he painted his story. He was so right about so many things. If you don’t know what it’s about, or don’t really care whether you see it or not, watch this. It’ll change your mind. And if it doesn't...well that's your own problem. 

Enough about that.

 I know that about 99% of everybody has already said this, at least once, but… fall is almost here!! :D (not to mention I’m probably one of the very few people who have not had a Pumpkin Spice Latte from Starbucks yet…yeah…I know…) I can’t wait for fires and leaves and cold weather and sweaters and hoodies and s’mores and hot chocolate….I could go on for…a really long time. 

By the way, in case you haven’t noticed there IS a comment button, down at the bottom of the post kinda in the middle. Speaking of which (we weren't really speaking of it, but that doesn't really matter) if you wanted to follow me (it means you get updates and stuff) there’s a follow thingamajig on the right sidebar...somewhere over there…just sayin :)  

if you've made it this far, thanks for reading. If you didn't make it this far, thanks anyway :)

Morning by Morning

It's 6 o'clock, saturday morning. Most people are still asleep. But i can't. Thoughts have been running through my head like a steamy locomotive, fogging my brain. Worrying about friends, and sports, and all that jazz. Eventually the light from the dawn filtered lazily through my window.  i don't know why, but the song "He's Always Been Faithful" by Sarah Groves came into my head. it's a beautiful song.

I went downstairs, the downstairs that would soon be filled with people's voices and the sounds of little kids eating breakfast. I quietly opened the back door and stepped out onto the chilly back deck. Sitting on the table, i started to think about the song, and how it applied to me, looking at the pink clouds from the sunrise.

Truth is, I didn't need to worry about all that stuff. God's going to provide what I need. "He's always been faithful, He will be again."

thanks God.

The toe doctor

 If you were to go to the movie theater, purchase tickets for the film 'moriahs life,' buy a large bucket of popcorn with extra butter, and sit down, when the curtains rose you would happen upon the scene of me sitting in the toe doctor office. Not a very exciting place to be, because you're home schooled so that doesn't usually mean you get to skip classes. You would also find me painfully typing this out on an iPod touch because I made the stupid decision of leaving my trusty  notebook in the car, along with my Arizona. You may be wondering what's the matter with my toe, but sadly I myself do not know as that is yet to be decided by the toe doctor who seems to be making every effort to avoid me. All I know is that it looks really gnarly and I have been in a great deal of pain (ask my friends they'll tell you)  so here I am after a series of mildly unfortunate events in a tiny little room with a huge door painting an alarming shade of yellow and  If you were to go to the movie theater, purchase tickets for the film 'moriahs life,' buy a large bucket of popcorn with extra butter, and sit down, when the curtain s rose you would happen upon the scene of me sitting in the toe doctor office. Not a very exciting place to be, because you're home schooled to that doesn't usually mean you get to skip classes. You would also find me painfully typing this out on an iPod touch because I made the stupid decision of leaving my trusty  notebook in the car, along with my Arizona. You may be wondering what's the matter with my toe, but sadly I myself do not know as that is yet to be decided by the toe doctor who seems to be making every effort to avoid me. All I know is that it looks really gnarly and I have been in a great deal of pain (ask my friends they'll tell you)  so here I am after a series of mildly unfortunate events in a tiny little room with a huge door painted an alarming shade of yellow and walls that has pastel  dinosaur trimming plastered to the walls, rambling on about nothing in particular...

Now i'm in the car, waiting for mi madre to come out of rite aid wih my toe perscription. I dont know why I bother boring you guys with all this useless information. Have you ever met someone who constantly supplies you  with useless information? Its disparaging. Especially when you happen  to already know this nonsense yet they insist on tellin you anyway. I have. But that's ok :) pardon my little rant. Let's move on. Words. I love words. I know it's nerdy but what's wrong with the truth? Words are just so spectacular and marvelous and stupendous. You can do so much with them. Think of all the things you wouldn't be able to do without words. I wouldn't be typing this to you right now without them. 

And thus concludes my little trip to the toe doctor. Turns out its infected. Yeah. Gross. Anyway. I'm just going to stop talking now......