OLD POETRY - UNTITLED  

Date: Friday, 23 July 2010 @ 10:40AM

I'm packing for my move and reading through old journals, as you do. I found an old poem that I didn't remember. I like it enough to share with you all. It reminds me of the times when my heart was light with ideas and colours and loved trees and the stars passionately. I wrote with delighted abandon. I loved writing and wrote poetry almost every day. :)

Within the darkness of night,
Patterns of light form on damp leaves
under soaring trees of ancient years.
Grown into and beyond time.
Ancient, silent and content beings -
hold me.
Leaves overhead move and the wind
carries starlight beyond the initial dark.
Below forms grow in shape and size
and in this glow,
stars make flowers bloom.
Sprung up from nothing!
Yet noone is there to notice...
You must part the trees,
but shut your eyes to see
bursts of happiness and delight -
touch and surround the old butresses.
It was, they were...
Yellow, pollen-scented, golden sunshine
and warm, rose-deep, pink blushes.
While oranges and reds laughed and roared at each other
but ephemeral and quickly are gone.
Soft peel of laughter then dissipation
into the air.
Fades away as the dark emptiness touches.


I didn't date it but it would have been late 2003. I would have been 17. I did enjoy the world I made for myself by writing poetry and filling my head with all sorts of fancies. I chased the butterflies of art, nature, poetry, 'beauty' and all things I saw worth in. I sought it as a barrier to the darkness in my world but, at the same time, saw beauty in my darkness. It was a happy sadness. It was an isolated existance. I carried these things inside me to keep me apart from others and further pain. I found my books a servicable companion most of the time and my poetry a similar support. I felt special in some ways at least. I walked home listening to Simon and Garfunkel the other day and smiled at the song I Am A Rock and the line "I have my books and my poetry to protect me". It was kind of like that. I'm glad my life is not like that anymore... but at times I do miss being that little girl sitting with her endless notebooks writing poetry and sketching. I wouldn't trade my life now for that faux suffering artist image though. I don't need poetry to create beauty when it's truly all around me in everything I see. :)

TWILIGHT UPDATED  

Date: Sunday, 25 April 2010 @ 7:36AM

So it's been about a month since I read the first Twilight book and I need to make a few adjustments to my last position. I ended up wanting to "know what happens next". You know that niggling feeling? Curiosity compelled me to read more so that even if I (logically) thought that Twilight was romantic trash written for high schoolers I still couldn't help myself. That's the basis upon which I decided it wouldn't be a terrible sin to read the rest of the books. I was curious! :P

Actually I really enjoyed the second, third and fouth books. I read them quite quickly over the space of a week or two with the Easter long weeekend. A few amusing things came out of the books. With Bella being really clumsy I kept noticing when I fell over or dropped something and Tom would call me "Bella" or "his little Bella". It was tragic yet amusing. While reading the books I had to constantly defend myself as a genuine book reader and not just some fluffy. I got spotted all the time reading the books. At a bus shelter a mother told me her daughter had read the books several times and seen the Twilight movie so many times that she knew each of the character's lines. I was a little embarrassed to be associated with that kind of fanaticism. I did however watch the Twilight movie (with Tom, it was our one year anniversary and we stayed home to cook dinner and watch movies). And I enjoyed it. :P

I'm beginning to wonder if there's any use in my personal distinctions of what is popular being lame/worthless/uncool. I normally avoid popular things on principle but I have been giving things a chance that I normally wouldn't - Harry Potter and Twilight being the main ones at the moment - and I haven't died. I don't see myself as being any less me, or any less cool. :P Other people may disagree but I never did things to impress other people. I think being an elitist actually stifles my self expression rather than enhances it. I think now I'd rather just like what I like and be open to anything, even if it's popular and kind of fluffy. I don't think I can extend that to music, but maybe one day. haha What a revolutionary thought! Can anyone imagine me liking current pop music?

TWILIGHT  

Date: Sunday, 21 March 2010 @ 9:54PM

I just finished reading the first book in the Twilight series. I don't think I'll read the others. I initially didn't hate the book and the story was engaging enough to make me want to continue reading but do I really want to read 3 more books? No. Simple, short answer. I am glad I gave it a try though. The old Cathrine would have dismissed it with a derisive snort and thought those that wasted their time with those kinds of books had the brain capacity of a sea snail. However, it's not fair to judge a book you haven't read for yourself and so now I know exactly what kind of high school romance novel this book is.

After reading it I feel a little deprived of intelligent conversation. I used to experience that when I worked in the toddler room. I would come home and crave adult conversation. Spending all day using 2 or 3 word sentences can be really tiring. Reading novels full of vapid teenage thoughts on love feels similar. Anyway... I just thought I'd write up my impressions before I go to bed. The experience was not a complete waste of time but I'm not going to spend the next three books waiting for Bella to get it on with Edward. He should bite her already so they can get what it is out of their system. :P

I am planning to read Othello next. Tom said it's a good play. I read it in Year 10 and didn't like it, but perhaps it's because I struggled too much with the language then or maybe it was the teacher I had. Either way, Shakespeare will be a welcome change. I can't really help being a bit of a literary snob.

ROBIN HOBB / DRAGON HAVEN  

Date: Sunday, 7 March 2010 @ 7:56AM

I bought Dragon Haven, Robin Hobb's second book in The Rain Wild Chronicles, on Wednesday afternoon. I finished it last night and couldn't put it down until I had. Now I don't want to really write a review because they're so formal and often you make a judgement about it - do I recommend it? etc. Instead I'd rather say how it impacted me.

For starters, when I looked in the mirror this morning I thought how strange it was that I had such clear skin - my face wasn't beginning to scale yet. *grin* The characters in the books are charged with the misson of taking the poorly formed dragons up the river to find better habitation for them. In the process the dragon keepers are changed... their already reptilian-like features become even more pronounced. Scales are one of the first changes.

I'm not surprised that I woke up and expected to see scales along my jaw line or felt strange that my skin was so smooth. Robin Hobb's writing has always captured my imagination. She does it with her characters and the depth of their feeling and the honesty of their troubles, fears, joys, needs. The main character in this series is Thymara. She's a young woman who should have been exposed at birth and not allowed to live. Her features were too reptilian when she was born and so not expected to live long, and if she had, would be forbidden to breed since she would unlikely produce a viable child. In a world where resources are scarce it is foolish to throw good food after bad - so to speak. She pulled her weight though and in a desire to prove her worth, signed up for the journey with the dragons to find them somewhere suitable to live. The dragons can not fly, or even feed themselves. They hatched from their eggs malformed because they were so late and exhausted when they came to the hatching grounds as serpents. And they didn't have welcoming dragons to help them build the casing of their shells. They only had Tintaglia. So they emerged half of what they should be, their wings too stunted to fly.

Thymara was a powerful character to create an emotional whirlwind within my imagination. All her life she was an outcast for her appearance. She was forced to justify her existance to everyone and could not expect to receive warmth, fellowship or love from those around her (except her father, who loved and saved her). It's a harsh environment to grow up in.

What do you do when you grow accustomed to being rejected and then are forced into a small community and discover others like you, maybe love you? Something similar happens to Alise, the Bingtown gentlewoman who joins the expedition to learn more about dragons. All her life she was too plain to get the attention of men and too keenly interested in reading and dragons to be fussed with most female company and for that company to be fussed with her. And Sedric. His story is not uncommon either. His life seems to be the story of how far would you go to be loved and accepted by your peers? And despite the lengths he goes to, the love he receives is not really love.

So all of these things and more besides have drilled me. Love. Fear of rejection. Lack of self worth. Doubt. Hunger for acceptance and love. They all seem to be key threads in my life and a couple of times they hit home pretty hard. I felt as if someone were leading me to look at myself. I felt as if someone were letting me look into the lives of others that I know. I cried for them and for myself. I didn't cry because my current situation mirrored theirs, but that it had. I remembered instead the safety that I know I have in Tom and in God. I cried because it's so understandable and utterly painful when those we love don't know how to love us back, can't love us back, or do so improperly. It made me reflect on love and it's futility. How we hunger for it, but don't give it. How we need it, but are broken and inconsistant in showing it and so hurt those we love. I reflected on too where that need comes from. Why do we need love? I wondered a little about God and his nature because God IS love. Is it our soul crying out for God? Is our desperate need to feel loved actually our need to be completed by God...?

Lovers sometimes say to each other "you complete me" but is that so? Isn't God the lover of souls? Isn't he the one who can only truly love us as we need and isn't the source of all the love we give and receive him anyway? We need God. The best thing I have ever experience in my relationship with Tom is when we are both in Christ and are striving to be pure and blameless in his eyes. To be obedient and loving. The love that sends is not dependant on each other but is given freely by God and is limitless. It is perfect. When two souls share that, there is not only the heavenly joy of serving God but also the earthly joy of sharing it with another who knows exactly what you mean. It's new and wonderful to me.

It's nice to have a framework for these kinds of thoughts. It makes me laugh to think I read Robin Hobb and my thoughts were directed to God. Even while reading Harry Potter my thoughts saw the essence of good that was being drawn out but the limitations it had. Love, JK Rowling said in her books, was the most powerful force. Of course it is, but where does that love come from?

I'm broken. I break when I read this stuff. I heal when I kneel before God and worship. I'm healed when Tom loves me inspite of all my attempts to thwart that love. I think I'm learning to stop fighting the idea that I can be worthy of love and that love isn't dependant on anything I do. Jesus provided the ultimate example of that and he is teaching me. :)

HARRY POTTER / DENNIS WHEATLEY  

Date: Friday, 15 January 2010 @ 6:58PM

So I'm surprised by some things. At the moment, I'm surprised by how much I'm enjoying reading the Harry Potter series. I refused to read it first because I hate band wagons and it's not something I'd normally choose to read so I didn't read it. Then I was told it was evil because of all the magic and wand waving. :P I thought, perhaps it is? I hadn't read it and when I was told to steer clear and that it gets dark and disturbing towards the end of the series, I decided more firmly that I wouldn't read the series.

However I finished the fourth book in the series today - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire - and it was really engaging in a fun, light way. Reading it doesn't makes me inclined to want to practice magic myself, as I was told to be wary of. I mean, geez. :P As an adult, I have no problem with Harry Potter. If I gave it to children to read, I'd give it with a short preamble about what is real and not real, possible and not possible just to be sure.

I reflect on my childhood, and I didn't have anyone guiding me along the way. I learnt the hard way about what is real and possible. I read books on the book shelves at home and at the age of 13 or 14 was reading Dennis Wheatley's occult thrillers. Those books are books I would not give to a child of that age - or any age! I think my dad knew I was reading them... infact I think I asked for his permission to read them! His books deal very clearly with the world of the occult. I was horrified and enthralled. This stuff was the real deal. I loved Duc de Richleau, and was fascinated by astral projection, sacrifices of chickens at midnight and demons coming in the form of a huge swam of spiders. I remember one night not being able to read on after one particularly horifying section about spiders entering his bedroom by the hundreds. I imagined what I'd do in such a situation and had no idea! I'm not normally one to flinch at the sight of a spider, but the evil that came in through the window with those spiders? I don't think I've experienced anything quite like that genuine fear I felt from reading those books. I eventually did read on, after a couple of days, after the initial horror had worn off and I could tell myself they were just words on a page and not real.

What can I say? Harry Potter is nothing compared to real evil. The horror and fascination that I felt after reading these books that dealt with the occult didn't make me initially want to practice these dark arts, but it built up a tolerance in me for these topics. I was interested in them and through exposure, less afraid. I could never let go of my core believe in God, goodness, light, truth, etc that I wanted on my side and ultimately fought for... but I did investigate it more than is healthy.


My real thoughts thus far are this. Read what is edifying and good. I know the world is filled with evil, pain, suffering and injustice. You can't turn a blind eye to it and it's not good to ignore the suffering and needs of others. But there is a difference between knowing about it and taking pleasure in it. I don't think Harry Potter is taking pleasure in evil. In fact I think it's the opposite. The values upheld by Rowling are those required to stand in the face of evil and overcome it.

It'd been a while since I'd read anything... after I've finished this series I think I'll read some of my more serious fiction. Some Shakespeare? Or should I re-read Les Miserables? I adored it so much. That book can be re-read lots of times before I could get sick of it. And all those lovely Napoleonic battle descriptions! haha! I also am curious about The Little Prince. I think it's a French book. There's so much out there that I should know and don't. That's the painfulness of going to schools in the Western Suburbs!! No one teaches us anything. I 'wasted' a lot of my high school years just reading Fiction Fantasy. I read all of Brian Jacques' books or all of David Edding's books and all of Gillian Rubenstein's etc. If I hadn't had a librarian who took an interest in what I was reading, maybe I wouldn't have read Tolkien?


Love,
Cathrine