And the Ice Gnomes are Marching From Their Norways...

A very merrily blessed Christmas to you all! I hope everyone had a marvelous celebration of our Lord's grace; any interesting stories to tell? Thoughts? Queries? Snide Remarks?

And what is this? The end of the year? Already?! WHERE DID IT GO?!! Does anyone really believe that it's December yet; cause I think there's some sort of conspiracy going on. Involving squirrels. And their acorn-powered time machines.

Closing Thoughts, Queries and (Possibly) Snide Remarks on the Year:

-God is good.

-I wish language were less weak to express God's [insert stronger medium here]. "How was your week? Good."; "Good job!"; "The Lord is good."; "Oh, that's good."

-My great apologies to any other string players out there, but cello is my favorite string instrument. Ohhh my word. (Hah, I just got a "Yo-Yo Ma and Friends" Christmas album...:D)

-Did you know that Yo-Yo Ma made a guest appearance as a cello-wielding bunny on the cartoon show Arthur? I didn't even know what he looked like outside of Bunnydom until this year.

-This year has brought me to ponder art a very lot. If we are a reflection of God's glory, and we are His own masterpieces/artworks, does that make our masterpieces/artworks reflections of our glory, which is really God's glory reflected through us?

-I have discovered that I am a very wordy person! Argh...:P

-Interactions between the two genders is awkward and complicated at secular schools. Like, really awkward.

-If the future wasn't scary, the present and past wouldn't be nearly as interesting.

-SNOW IS COLD. ACK.

-Consistent prayer is hard.

-People that I don't agree with can still be decent, amazing, lovable people. It's crazy. In my ignorance, I sincerely never expected to meet this many beautiful people who claim they will never believe in Christ as their savior. (Then again, we never have met a mere mortal, as Lewis says).

-And lastly, gummies.

I also discovered how much it hurts to miss people, even when you have met all sorts of interesting, gracious and lovely persons. You are all in my heart often, and you are sorely loved. (Ow! ^_^)

May Christmas be with you always; may we ever remember to weaken ourselves before God and other men.

Love,
Danielle

...

Some of you might remember the children's book, The Adventures of Columbus the Pigeon, that I was writing/illustrating a while back.

Well, the people at Landmark Editions (the company that was hosting the contest) didn't contact us by the last day they said they would if it won (aka Doomsday). We thusly assumed that it hadn't won and eagerly awaited the return of the darned thing. :)

However,

however,

HOWEVVVVERRRR....

They emailed TODAY and wrote the following message:

"We are pleased to advise you that [her] book has been chosen to be published in our PUBLISHER'S CHOICE GOLD AWARD LINE. Such books are ones which have not won outright, but one which we feel strongly about doing and ones we would hate to see the public miss out on and [her] book is certainly one of those. It was a tough decision on our part, because we would be pleased to send to print any and all of the top five in each category. After great deliberation, we have decided to bring it forward in print form."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Is all I have to say about that! :D I think this means that I get to visit Kansas for like, two weeks to finish it up. WOOHOO KANSAS!

Home away from Home away from Home

You must hear these things.
You must, please!
You must know before it is December
And thought becomes barren as the trees.

In the home of the hearts of these;
Golden saints gaze on the
Curls that carress the face
That rests on the wooden pew.

("Oh! The water's cold!"
But you were so bold as to
Jump!
Into the frigid, stormy, churning, nightmare
Pool.)

No, cat!
Grand huntress of these realms.
You must not devour our friend the bird
For then who will chirp our souls to peace?

And remember
The one o' clocks
At which we read poems much better than this
And wondered how words sound in E minor?

In the home of the hearts of these;
Apollo stands and sings to us
Through transparent fingers and monochrome keys.

I must tell you these things before they are Unreal.
Before time becomes the place that I cannot remember
Before a myopic mind dissevers the dream...

Before the rain floods my head
And I forget to number the days
(Number the days!)
In the home of the hearts of these
Days both seen and unseen.

Spare Oom

Where am I? What is the rain doing here? Why is everything so gray?

Where is California? What are palm trees? Whoever needed a warm beach, anyways?

How long has it been since California? I don't even remember half the time. We drive to the bus stop (the Bus Stop? What is this Bus Stop?) every day, by pastures and cows half invisible through the mist. Often it rains, and all one can see is the asphalt playing with the rain.

We return to our house--it's a pretty darn big house--and I can't remember if I live there, or we are intruding on another man's home.

And the trees...Oh, the trees! Everyone admires them in the summer, and then forget about their beauty when it's raining, even though it's the rain that keeps them green. So vast, so intricate...My English teacher would chastise me for using such lofty language for a mere tree; but when you are as small as I am, it really becomes a matter of perspective.

But really, trees? Aren't those the skinny tall things with leafy pom-poms at the top? The universal sign for In-n-Out? Since when have trees been something grand?

Sometimes, it feels as if Aslan has pulled us through the wardrobe. It feels as though we are traipsing about in another world, another story, another life. Mr. Tumnus shall bustle nervously out of the forest, the Dawn Treader will lazily drift across the pond in our backyard, and the Penvensies will be sitting down for tea in the kitchen.

But I know this isn't Narnia, even if I can't remember if this is my world at all.

We have a different sun, a different moon, a different sky. Most of my days are spent feeling lost; more in a physical, locational (is that a word? :S) sense than anything else.

What does one do when they are lost? Wander? Wait to be found? Do their homework? Pray?

"Lord, you have been our dwelling place
in all generations.
Before the mountains were brought forth,
or ever you had formed the earth and the world,
from everlasting to everlasting you are God.

You return man to dust
and say, 'Return O children of man!'
For a thousand years in your sight
are but as yesterday when it is past,
or as a watch in the night.

You sweep them away as with a flood; they are like a dream,
like grass that is renewed in the morning:
in the morning it flourishes and is renewed;
in the evening it fades and withers.

For we are brought to an end by your anger;
by your wrath we are dismayed.
You have set our iniquities before you,
our secret sins in the light of your presence.

For all our days pass away under your wrath;
we bring out years to an end like a sigh.
The years of our life are seventy,
or even by reason of strenght eight;
yet their span is but toil and trouble;
they are soon gone, and we fly away.
Who considers the power of your anger,
and your wrath according to the fear of you?

So teach us to number our days
that we may get a heart of wisdom.
Return, O Lord! How long?
Have pity on your servants!
Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love,
that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.
Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us,
and for as many years as we have seen evil.
Let your work be shown to your servants,
and your glorious power to their children.
Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us,
and establish the work of our hands upon us;
yes, establish the work of our hands!"

-Psalm 90

What Did the Movers Yell to the Miners When they Dropped a Steinway Down the Shaft?

"C sharp or B flat!"

Poor Steinway. He would have been mortified.

Humble Pie in 3-4 Time

Joining a Youth Symphony when one is very inexperienced and very bad at sight-reading is a sure recipe for Humble Pie. However, sometimes life switches on the oven at the most oppurtune, ripest moments; no extra ingredients necessary!

It happened tonight. Our chamber group was rehearsing, and Sharyn (our conductor) had to whisk away and help some violins or something. Which meant that the vocalists had no idea what to sing, while the bass, bassoon, violin and flute just bowed and blowed their way through the song. (No, "blowed" is not a word, but it rhymed...:)

Well, the bassoonist, being a rather sensitive soul, initiated the following conversation.

Bassoon: Well, this part is pretty easy for us, and you guys are singing; where would you like to practice?

Me: Erm...Uh...

[Silence]



[Crickets chirping in F Major]

Me: Erm...Uh...How about one before seven?

Bass: You mean six?

Me (probably rather red): Um, YES, six!

Okay okay. BEFORE you wonder, "How on earth could she not catch that?", I have an argument to make:

We often have letters in our music that mark a major change in the song, and they are often capital with circles or squares around them. To keep everyone on the same page, we say stuff "One before A" or "Three before B".

This particular Seven was big, it just before a major change in the music, and it had this lovely circle around it! OF COURSE a ditzy, tired, allergenic soprano is going to say something as ditzy, tired and allergenic-sounding as that. GAH!!!

...

Oy. It's late. Good night. Thanks for reading! (I think...)


P.S. Mr. Bass, if you're reading this, I choose cello.

:)

The Mr. Darcy Dress Up Game

Best. Game. Evar.

It could also be termed the Let's-See-What-Adrien-Brody-Looks-Like-In-18th-Century-Garb Game. (You really can get a decent likeness; there's even a crooked nose option).

It's really called the Regency dress up game or something, but that's kind of boring.

Whatever you call It, here It is.
http://savivi.deviantart.com/art/Regency-Hero-Dress-Up-Doll-101669291

Autumn is here!

Drink a cup of tea by the
Early morning's light.
The smell of toast meets chilly air
As morning quells the night.

Running to the bus stop as
Raindrops light and small
Bedew bright red and orange and gold
The spectrum of the fall.

*sniffs air* Ah, fall is here! Who wants to come Hurrah in Harvest with me? The trees are shedding their coats of color, the goats are growing round, and hot chocolate is the order of the day!

Thank the Lord for his abundance in mercy and grace.

Here's a random in-class writing assignment I had the privilege of massacring last Wednesday. :)

The crimson of the leaf hails to the red of the curb. Together they battle Washington’s gray, a merry attack on monochrome.

Joining the war are the clouds. They spatter the battlefield—and passers-by—with the artillery of the sky.

As the scarlet partners stand their ground, students run for cover from the determined wet; disregarding the colorful allies. The leaf is trampled and torn, the curb losing hope. Neither can see the end of the battle. The clouds rumble forward like a herd of elephants, blasting at their earthbound foes.

Suddenly the tables turn as a new ally comes forth. It is the grass, and the trees and the green bursting forward to assist. They are unperturbed by the weariness of the leaf, by the despair of the curb. Rather than lose hope at the clouds, they simply burst forth in a blaze of verdure as the rain pours forth.

Now it is the clouds’ turn to surrender. The rain stops, and the blue sky peers out.

*sigh* English teacher liked it, I'm not sure what I think of it. :P Too eloquent, perhaps?

Oh, and I find out if my children's book wins this Wednesday, if any of you are wondering. Here's to God's providence! *raises apple juice*

My teachers are the nicest Un-Christians I've ever met. There's an amazing book called The Violin Maker (John Marchese), which anyone who ever thought about music, even once, should read. Our pastor is teaching a wonderful series called "Scared Spitless", and it's been so refreshing and...freeing? to explore God's grand compassion and provision for us.

I am absolutely freaked out about my book, and God still continues to be good.

God is good.

Life is good.

Dearest Friends, Romans, and Countrymen...

I am entering my first quarter as a student of Whatcom Community College, and am sadly not really looking forward to it...

If it enters your mind anytime this week, your prayers would be so muchly appreciated! (For my sanity and discretion amongst the varied and twisted worldviews, and for the professors and students who may be portraying them. Goodness, Truth and Beauty for the win! :D)

I love and miss you all dearly; please don't die from schoolwork overload! :) I hope all ye Torrey-ers are enjoying Foof!

Love,
Danielle