For being so tall, you’d think I understand growing.

Thomas Kinkade has a light source as the focal point in all his paintings.

Georgia O’Keefe has suggestive desert flora and fauna in hers.

Me? I’m the guy who’s going to go crazy painting nebulae.

I try and then can’t get it to look exactly like the photo.

This is irony because the photo is only a small shadow of what a nebula would look like up close. The other thing I’m realizing is that I’m expecting to get it perfect the first time. Since art can only summon up a memory or feeling and not replace the original, I don’t think I can ever get it perfect, to be honest. But I can grow in my painting, in how and what to do.

Sticking out from under my piles of notebooks this morning was my query hook for my second novel (I’m on my third, the first being insane). I read the sentence that was supposed to get my book another look and had to laugh. It was so cheezy.

It was also encouraging because, on Monday, I read one of my queries for the current book to some junior high and high school students. One kid was honest enough to give it the stink-eye. Monday I came home and typed furiously. I shared the new, completely different query with another teen. Their reaction? “Wow.” I had to clarify if it was “Wow, cool” or “Wow, get away from me”. It was the former.

You could say that I grew as a writer. I know it’s also cheezy to cite Captain America, yet the choice to give the serum to the scrawny guy has stuck with me. Steve Rogers appreciates the growth. I feel like getting a book published has been tough because, well, it’s tough to get a book published, but also I feel like if I do actually end up having a book on the shelf, I will appreciate it more after the journey.

Yes, feel free to snark and mockingly sing Green Day’s “Time of Your Life” or whatever song it was in Anastasia.

I mean, it’s not like this is THE BLOGGH or anything.

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With the bloggh, I just write whatever makes me laugh/think/not think and call it good. You are all witnesses to me making myself crack up.

For some reason I get nervous when I’m creating something I put my heart into AND I’M NOT WELL-PRACTICED AT ALL. So, to break through that I’ve posted my first painting using the easel my girls got me. This is not a fishing for compliments; this is a “stop obsessing and just do”.

Ugh. Imperfections. Wabi sabi, suckas. Wabi sabi.

There is plenty of time for that.

I had been tempted to hang up the Booyor URL, converting all of my basketball shorts to khaki pants, metaphorically speaking.

But even today I remembered how I’ve used this site as a repository of my Cliff Claven-esque web trivia.

So – to the Utah friends who needed writing links:
Duotrope.com – Use this site to search for places to publish your short stories and poems.

Querytracker.net – Use this site to find agents that match your style of book. When a publisher needs a certain book to fit in their line-up, they’ll go to specific agents to see what they have. Danielle Steele’s agent is not the same as Scott Westerfeld’s.

I was going to draw a completely different picture to test out Adobe Illustrator’s Live Trace on my scan of a hand drawn sketch, but then I found a note in my sketchbook from years ago. Here’s today’s take at it, complete with jagged lines that show I’m still getting the hang of Illustrator. Wabi sabi, right?

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“Today’s contestant is an R4 unit tired of dating guys with bad motivators.”

I guess 3PO as a droid dating game host was funnier last decade.
And an official blech to the Neimoidian that’s behind all of the reality programming on television today:
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“Unscripted television? Excellent.”

A lesson in wabi sabi

Okay, so that is fun to say.

My friend Mick, a very talented artist, was telling me about a Chinese school of thought (which then the Japanese popularized) but he couldn’t remember the name of it.

It’s called wabi sabi, coming from two characters shared in Chinese and Japanese.

Wabi – used to mean “melancholy from living alone in nature”, but now is more “simplicity in nature”
Sabi – “serenity in the impermanence, transience of things” and a beauty in the aging of things

Essentially, it’s an understanding that things are not perfect, but that they are how they are meant to be at that moment with a knowledge that all things change.

A phrase connected to it is “natsukashii furusato”, “an old memory from my hometown” (at least that’s how this white guy says it).

It’s like the end of the famous love section in 1 Corinthians 13:

12 For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. 13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

I see wabi sabi as a reminder that now we only know in part and on That Day, we shall know fully as we are fully known. Art is a tangible reminder of that for me.

Here’s my first ever full attempt at a realistic lion:
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and all I can see are the imperfections and asymmetry. And wabi sabi says, “Yeah. What did you expect? It’s life.”

Today’s picture is a lot different than how I normally draw lions:
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I know I’m late to the party.

One of the side effects of watching mainly Netflix (my only currently-aired show being So You Think You Can Dance (you wanna make something of it?)) is that any comment I make about a show is akin to *SPOILER ALERT: E.T. PHONES HOME*.

But the chance to draw Kim Cardassian was too entertaining to pass up:
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Now, that joke has been done. Where I boldly go is The Latinum Situation:
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Are the Kardashian-Jersey Dominion still influential? I’ve been a little out of it. (Refer back to the whole Netflix Paradox.)

Click on the thumbnails if your eyes can sustain the damage from zooming in. The same caution can be applied to the new Weird Al video. So disturbing, so true, so hilarious.
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Yep. That’s Weird Al.

A special thanks goes to my in-laws. My birthday gift was perfect. I like to write. (You may have picked up on that.) I was looking unrealistically at a Macbook Air because it has the instant-on/long sleep feature. I could write and not have to wait for a long boot.

You know what? My new technique boots even faster:
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When I chatted with Mike Lupica, he said his biggest technology was a really nice pen. The slightly-Thernadier thing about being a librarian is that students lose really nice pens all the time. (I swear I don’t go too “Master of the House” on them.) Lupica writes most of his drafts on a big legal pad. Christopher Paul Curtis, author of The Watsons go to Birmingham, wrote his first novel on a legal pad in the public library.

I found that when I sat down to start a short story this week, I cranked out a thousand words pretty quickly. It’s funny how distractions decrease on a piece of yellow paper compared to a computer screen. The only distractions are the myriad of other ideas zipping through my brain. For those, I write them down:
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The Apple Dapples thing was going to be an LL Cool J-esque rap:

When I say “Apple”, you say “Dapple”/ Hey-o!

but, even though generic breakfast cereals have a very limited budget for advertising, I’m going to keep that one for myself.

Blue Like Jazz movie

If you’ve been with the bloggh for a while, you’ll know that Blue Like Jazz is one of my favorite books. (That link is crazy because, in 2008, I had heard of this guy named William Law, the Donald Miller of the 1700s, and I finally got around to downloading the Kindle version of A Serious Call to my phone. It’s been a while.)

One of the things I love about Blue Like Jazz is that it’s coherent and yet not. It’s Donald Miller talking about his life, but yet there are so many lessons in it. It’s no wonder that right now he’s hosting the Storyline conference.

I’m curious to see how a book that’s so anti-hypocrisy transitions into a movie, a medium dominated by heroes that blow up lots of things to stop people from blowing up lots of things.

Here’s the trailer:

Death in His Grave by John Mark McMillan

I dig John Mark McMillan.

This is the same guy that wrote How He Loves and one of the things I love about his songs are that they use non-churchy words to explain theological concepts. He does a great job of explaining his creative process and inspiration here, so check that out first.

On Sunday, we’re going to be singing Death in His Grave. As a worship team, we don’t want anything we do to get in the way of you worshiping. When learning a new song, it’s sometimes tough to sing along if it’s the first time seeing the words. With Death in His Grave, the words are so poetic we don’t want to miss the truth that those lyrics hold. The song is called Death in His Grave, but if we miss the fact that it’s Jesus putting death to death, we miss the whole song.

I’m going to post the lyrics with links to Bible passages that relate to what McMillan is talking about (some are different than his explanation, but we think they’re still relevant). I know Jeremy is planning on doing the same thing on his site. Hopefully we can get the lyrics out to enough people so we can look at some/all of the references and get a really cool picture of who Jesus is.

These references are a result of the Body in action. Jeremy, my mother-in-law, and I sat in the conference room at church and worked together on this.

Death in His Grave by John Mark McMillan

Though the Earth cried out for blood

satisfied her hunger was

Her billows calmed on raging seas

for the souls of men she craved

Sun and moon from balcony

turned their head in disbelief


Their precious Love would taste the sting

disfigured and disdained

On Friday a thief

on Sunday a King
Laid down in grief
but awoke with the keys
To hell on that day

the first born of the slain

The Man Jesus Christ

Laid death in his grave

So three days in darkness slept

the Morning Sun of righteousness
But rose to shame the throes of death

and overturn his rule
Now daughters and the sons of men

would pay not their dues again
The debt of blood they owed was rent


when the day rolled anew

He has cheated

Hell
and seated

us above the fall


In desperate places

He paid our wages

One time once and for all

Hopefully that helps. Here’s him singing it, if you want to listen while reading:

A different voice – RAWR!

I’ve spent the past few days drafting reform policy for our school and plotting a vision for the long-term mixed with short-term incremental goals. Much of this revolves around data analysis and dry reports (no LOLZ to district superintendents, unfortunately).

So, for contrast:

Our 19th President – How can you break a railroad strike with such tiny arms?

Mishnah, Tanakh, and the Amidah

Today my oldest sat with us during the sermon. Last summer, in the family Sunday School class, we learned a technique of taking notes during the sermon with our kids. I modified it and, frankly, it helped me pay attention, too.

I always am encouraged when I see parts of Jesus’s life fulfilling centuries-old prophecies. It’s always a reminder that God knows what He’s doing.

So, John was talking about some cool stuff from the Passover feast (and all the rituals that went along with it).

You would need a lamb for your sacrifices:
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The main supplier of lambs? You would herd them up from Bethlehem.

You would bring them in through the Sheep Gate:

(Nehemiah was one of the people who helped rebuild Jerusalem in ~400 BC.)
When would you bring in the sheep?
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Sheep selection day was the week before Passover. Like, Palm Sunday/”Hosanna!”

You gotta make sure your sheep isn’t all jacked up. You need to inspect for faults:
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This is also when the Pharisees and Sadducees starting questioning Jesus about paying taxes to Caesar and marriage after you die. (I drew a Pharisee pointing a finger and Pilate saying, “I find no fault.”)

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Lambs were sacrificed at 9am and 3pm and the shofar (old school vuvuzela) would signal the ritual completed. Check Mark 15:33 and when Jesus was saying, “Eloi! Eloi”

The Amidah are a collection of eighteen prayers that are said at many Jewish festivals. Check out the sixth and fifteenth and picture people praying that during the Passover.
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During the events of the crucifixion was also the Festival of Unleavened Bread:
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and the Firstfruits ceremony:
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Love and Cackling

I’m reading through The Sounds of Star Wars:

and really liking it. Is this a surprise? No. Thanks again, Jason, for the gift.

One of the things I appreciate about the book is Ben Burtt’s love for what he does. When he was first interviewing to be George Lucas’s sound guy (imagine that interview!), he saw concept art on the wall of C-3PO that reminded him of all the fun serials he watched as a kid. It’s like how my dream goal as a writer is to be asked to do an expanded universe novel.

Here’s a great quote from him about working on Return of the Jedi. Notice his enthusiasm for the saga:

“We were all charged up with when we mixed it,” says Burtt. “We were deep into the scene and felt like we were helping to bring about galactic justice that would cap the entire trilogy.”

The book has a sound file player attached to the side of it. You read the book and play the sound that he’s describing to hear for yourself. I know kids’ books do this, but this book is definitely for the film buff.

Did you know that the sound of the Emperor’s lightning is the same sound effect used in the 1931 Frankenstein film? The old guy that was the sound engineer on that classic film had to be convinced that this “Star Wars” thing was worth his effort in helping. Ben Burtt took a rough edit of Empire Strikes Back to show Ken Strickfaden since Ken had never seen A New Hope.

Strickfaden was blown away and took Burtt to the room where he still had all of the lightning lab still set up.

The craziest sound effect from the Luke vs. Emperor vs. Vader fight is the sound of the Emperor’s Dark Side explosion. Watch the clip:

Do you hear the sound of pigs wailing? That’s in there as he falls down the shaft.

Very Matthew 8:32, in a sense.

I know that some of you readers are fans of the song How He Loves. You’re probably familiar with the David Crowder version. The guy that wrote the song is John Mark McMillan (Don’t worry, there’s still a beard). You’ve got to hear the background story to why he wrote the song. Puts a lot of context to the un-churchy words he uses:

We’ll be recording this song for our live album on April 3. I hope to see y’all there.

Dust

I think that this is my first attempt at serious song-writing. Normally my lyrics involve switching around words for a parody and to make my family laugh. Most of the time that devolves into jokes about burping; if that’s what you came here for today, you may be disappointed. Come back tomorrow. (Or later tonight, depending on how Mike’s show goes.)

I only have experience with lyrics in the same sense that I think most dads have. Both my father and father-in-law are notorious for lyric-swaps. (Slade – “It’s now or never…” What’s the next line to dad’s song?)

All of those ridiculous qualifying statements aside, here are some lyrics remixed from Psalm 39 and Psalm 40 (and HEAVILY borrowed (like “Ice Ice Baby”/”Under Pressure” bass line heavily borrowed) from Isaac Watts‘ notes on those chapters).

DUST

Teach me the measure of my days,
Thou maker of my frame;
I would survey life’s narrow space
And learn how frail I am.

A span is all that we can boast,
An inch or two of time;
None but vanity and dust
In all our flower and prime.

See the race of mortals move
Like shadows o’er the plain;
They rage and strive – desire and love
But all the noise is vain.

What should I wish or wait for then
From creatures, earth, and dust?
Expectations trampled on
In disappointed trust.

You raised me from a horrid pit,
Where mourning long I lay,
And from my bonds released my feet,
Deep bonds of miry clay.

Firm on a rock you have me stand,
You teach my cheerful tongue
To praise the wonders of your hand
In this, my thankful song
In this, my thankful song.

You raised me from a horrid pit,
Where mourning long I lay,
And from my bonds released my feet,
Deep bonds of miry clay.

Firm on a rock you have me stand,
You teach my cheerful tongue
To praise the wonders of your hand
In this, my thankful song
In this, my thankful song.

Enduring Ultimate Flesh-Eating Monkeys

People may remember a certain ska band:

and a CD entirely of insanity (“Dona Nobis Kenya”, anyone?), so it’s weird that I’m drawing your attention to Enduring Truth, a serious CD. Hear a sample of great bass playing (with some other people thrown in for good measure) by clicking here.

Pick up a copy online right now.


Or nuns will peg you with snowballs.

Relevant Roosevelt

Doin’ research for the last section of my book (the end is near!) and I came across this interesting chunk from a Roosevelt speech:

…and now I wish to say seriously to all the daily newspapers, to the republican, the democratic, and the socialist parties that they cannot month in and month out and year in and year out make the kind of untruthful, of bitter assault that they have made and not expect that brutal violent natures, or brutal and violent characters, especially when the brutality is accompanied by a not very strong mind – they cannot expect that such natures will be unaffected by it.

I’m glad that 100 years later we have learned to remove bitter and untruthful assaults from our politics…