drops of paint

Hope is a waking dream–Aristotle
(Sometimes, these quotes are not really relevant to the blog)

Today I went to the zoo with my cousins from Hawaii. They had just arrived that day at 8 o’clock [PST] from the “red-eye flight.” Apparently, they stayed at the Honolulu Airport until 11PM [HST] to find out whether they would be able to get the “red-eye flight” (which they did), and fly for 7 hours to reach mainland. I’m guessing they either have a lot of natural energy or drank a couple monsters. hahah… but it was fun being with them. I’m actually allowed to act stupid–literally–without thinking about consequences lying before me.

One of the things that caught my eye [besides the roaches XP ugh... i hate more evolved forms of species ] was this event called “Splash.” Basically, it was a guy using two paint brushes and his hands (though he mosty used the latter) and began splashing everywhere to make two paintings: a gorilla and a lion. While I’ve seen splash paintings before, for some odd reason, the whole show made me think.
The artist threw paint everywhere. Nothing was truly precise (until he began using his brush for uses beyond splashing). Yet, with all those “imperfections,” the artist was able to create a wonderful piece.

How much different is it with life? Looking at this as an analogy, our lives are like the canvas. Starting out blank until circumstances (paint) hit us. Some paint may land in perfect areas, some paint may land in wrong areas. But in the end, God is the artist, and if we allow Him to draw on our canvas, our painting shouldn’t look too bad. After all, the artist sees something, even though everyone else may think he’s just crazy.

Seeing the artist paint reminded me when I was drawing Kristine on Artpad. While each stroke is important, it is the overall picture that matters. That’s how Chris and I differ in our art styles. Chris uses many strokes to define the face while I only used one… hitting undo several times to get it “perfect” . Neither style is better (though Chris, in the end, is a better artist)… but as long as the big picture is seen, the details aren’t too important. Maybe I was too stuck in the details, and thats why the picture didn’t look like her (sorry Kristine! ). But I plan on drawing Chris… hopefully that will look better .
That isn’t to say that you can be slack all the time and just “let it flow”… as Chris has used in his excuses to ignore details for APUSH projects. That approach doesn’t work.

Anyways… beyond the canvas, when things don’t land the way you think they should, remember who the artist is. As long as you don’t try to bend your canvas to make the paint shift another way, the artist knows what is good, and in the end, we’ll all be masterpieces. As long as you let Him.

controlling the legions

Every word has its own unique power.
It is like a soldier, armed with its own weapon.
A word may be able to bind friendships together, like “sorry.” A word may be able to command, like “leave.”
Also, each word has its’ own connotation. While they are synonyms, the nouns statesman and politician can bring forth different meanings. Politician has had its reputation of being Machiavellian and survivalistic while statesman has had its reputation of being noble and honorable.

While they are strong on their own, combined with other words, a whole new context is expounded on. “Love” without “I” and “you” has a totally different meaning than put together. They form their own militia when combined.
And when sentences are combined into paragraphs, militias form into armies. Ideas can be tossed around in a totally different fashion. With paragraphs combined together, you form ways of communication to change your own existence with someone else.

While words/sentences/paragraphs/speeches are powerful, I wonder if we really take them for their worth. Sometimes, we say words many times without thinking.
We talk in spite. We talk in confusion.
We talk out of being nervous. We talk out of jealousy.
While those can be valid reasons to say what isn’t meant to be said, does the other person understand the story behind the words? Can the other person talk to the general leading the army of words?

It is important for us to be aware of every word we say [and yes, I am a hypocrite]. I am not saying that we should freeze whenever a question is brought upon us, but it is good to use different soldiers for different times. Also, while it is always easier to send less soldier, less is not more in all cases. Instead of saying “f you”, elaborate on more words.

Sadly, I am a general who has used too little soldiers in big battles and too many in frivolous ones.
And in many cases, I am at a loss of armies.
Today included. I’m not sure if I used the right words… or knew when to share them.
I just hope they find their way to the other person in a good manner.

the bet

In history, we learn many famous events that happen that change the course of history due to deals.
One was the secret meeting between Thomas Jefferson, Alexander Hamilton, and James Madison which allowed Hamilton’s fiscal plan to be put in action and moving the capital to the Potomac. Another was the unprecedented Louisiana Purchase, made by Thomas Jefferson, almost tripling the size of the United States for a large sum of money.

Similar to the deals our founding fathers made, a huge deal was made tonight by three men. On July 26th, 2007, 1:08AM PST, one of the biggest deals was made, which may alter the course of human events.

Unfortunately… we wont know what happens until later.
Much later.
So what’s the purpose of this blog?
I dont know… you tell me.

the wind

the wind is always a poetic symbol.
it’s like a gentle whisper…
a whisper of what was. a whisper of warning. a whisper of hope. lately, the wind has whispering to me of the past.

yesterday i was walking to school (with my iPod thats breaking down ) and along came the song “Champagne Supernova.” i don’t know why, but that song is really chill. if you were to name any song that reminded me of 06 summer, itd be Champagne Supernova. 
last year was amazing. not including last school year, but last summer, i had such an amazing time. MGC rehersals with Pasifire and Norman… going to Folsom (im not Johnny Cash….), and chatting with friends, no matter how far they were.
but now… stories are quite different. i have many demons i have yet to face that have stirred up this year. the M in MGC is going to be hard to work back up to par. while id like it to be a birdie, or an eagle… or albatross hahah… ill take par. also hanging out with friends is something else i haven’t done at all. while i have been hanging with Jarel a lot… plus Vince, Dylan, Bill, and some other kids… i havent been face-to-face with anyone in the L7 group (except Adrian, who id consider an honorary member). last year, it wasnt much of concern to hang out with friends, but after joining L7, friends have been so addicting (dang you Kristine, Kathryn, and Chelsea… >.> getting me hooked onto you and your drug!).

i miss a lot of my friends (yes, i do have friends). every act of socializing was obstacled either by circumstance, or bad communication. Kelsey’s house… Travis’ house… Comic-con… well thats a different story.

i really hope things change this summer. this blog isnt big enough to list all the downs theres been this summer (though there has been many ups).
i just pray that a wind of change will bring forth hope for the rest of the summer and possibly the year

random aims

summer has brought forth many random ambitions to do acts of various concerns… maybe it’s because ive been doing nothing.
i definetly want to improve as a musician. it’s going to be hard to juggle the piano, flute, bass… and heck, throw in the viola. plus on top of that is my vocal life. im still sad that Phil wont be here to help me out for next year :-/… oh well. i gotta roll with it.
communicating with friends is another desire. one that will be met with soon >.> at least, through an unprecedented medium for me. i guess the best way to talk is to talk [if that makes any sense whatsoever]
oddly enough… me and Chris have also set up a contest. whoever has the biggest muscles by the end of the summer wins… pride i guess. hahah. i have a lot of work to do though… lately, i havent been eating much at all. skipping breakfast or lunch . but if i want to win… that has to change. hahah [so random, yet so fun ]

im still undecided about what next year holds… next year year. either I try to convince the coach of Morse to allow me to tryout for track… or I help out Victor with Little League as asst. coach. while i know a lot of the game, the only problem is that ive never played.

oh well… those are my aims.
good luck with yours!

passing down and away

Today I awoke to the sound of an ambulance that drove by. Assuming it was a fire truck or police car fixing some mistake or catching some criminal, I went back to sleep. Sadly, I assumed wrong.

Today my neighbor died due to natural causes. I did not know her too well, but of what I knew, she seemed like a nice lady. She was a widow, had a grandchild who played the piano, seemed like a loving mother and grandmother. It was a shame to have her pass away.

Her going made me think of what we have left. I know my age and her age have a wide difference, but you never know when He might take you home. You never know what might happen as you walk around that corner. My friend Jevin was jumped when walking home–the same route I usually take. Fortunately, they only took his iPod, not his life.
But one can never be too sure of when they’re going. Makes me think of what I will leave behind. What kind of legacy will people remember me of? Would I leave, saying the words that have been needed to be said?

Emotions. Truths. Ideas. Were they all passed out?

Don’t get me wrong… I’m not panicking that I’m going to die soon nor am going emo.
I’m just curious… I hope all the things I wanted were done (i guess that means i should pick up the phone soon )
Maybe Paul Hewson was off a little.
While it is the only thing we can bring with us afterwards, maybe love is the only lasting thing we can leave behind

a thought

Why is it that I can forigive so many people of actions that have hurt me physically or emotionally, yet I cant forgive myself for any mistake i make–no matter how small?

buildings

Getting to know someone can be a fun experience.
New… new stories… new experiences… new laughs… new stuff.
[Not to ignore the old... for I definetley do cherish what age brings]
But there is a fear. For most, the zone is a mere thin line. For others… its an obstacle.

For unless there are topics/scenarios/school stuff given to you, how do you ask questions without offending or end in dull situations? For me… thats the problem. Topics. Which ones head towards a good conversation?
Many questions, but they mean nothing if you don’t make a move

It’s kind of like buildings.
People are like buildings (there are flaws to this analogy).
They can have walls of thick concrete, or walls of redwood… scraped up… polished…
The buildings could have flowers outside or be barren. But you never know how amazing the building is until you enter it. Of course, some buildings have windows… some dont. Some buildings are even made of glass (though, I doubt any building is completely glass. What about bathrooms?).
But even with windows, one will never get to appreciate the building unless s/he enters through the front door. There are entryways to basements, but those usually end up in dead ends. Even if one is able to enter the building, breaking and entering doesn’t appeal… so the front door is the best option.
But what if I touch something that isn’t supposed to be touched? What if you accidentally forget to wipe your feet and ruin the rug?
So many questions, but youll never know until you open that front door.

So I need to stop being a hypocrite and pick up that dang phone.

digging to folly

will the love continue of the walk becomes a crawl? 

I have been fighting a certain battle for a long time.
This does not pertain to the little “4 year battle”… i wouldnt even call that a battle. More like something merely wishful.
It’s been a mistake Ive been digging up ever since 6th grade. I’ve seen the label. I’ve seen it in green letters “POISON” with a red background. I’ve heard my spirit say no. I’ve seen the effects it has done to me afterwards… but I keep digging.

Maybe subconciously this is what I was writing about when making the song Undefined. I keep on saying that I dont wan’t to live like under this mess, but to say when the fire is off is one thing… and to say when the flames are burning is another.

I take advantage of grace too often. It is a wonderful gift… but while He is a loving God, He is also a just one.

It’s a struggle… but I dont believe any obstacle would be handed to me if I couldn’t remove it.

I just need hope, faith, and love.

hands and feet

A couple nights ago, my parents were sharing some history of my grandparents lives. For the most part, I already knew the stories that my parents told, but it had me thinking: we all serve as the body parts of the greater body of life. Every life isn’t just another story, seeing that each story affects another one. a chain isn’t exactly the best analogy, seeing that each link is only connected by two others. we all serve as the hands and feet.

My Obachaan (grandmother) was in Japan during the time of WWII. Her city was firebombed, yet they all still managed to pull through.
My Ojiichaan (grandfather) was fighting in WII–in Morocco. He was a minesweeper. He also served in the Vietnam and Korean War as well. After he was done in the Navy, he became a committed teacher.
My Dad was ASB President of his Highschool. In college, a journalist for the Palm Springs Newspaper, but dropped his job to hitchhike so he could find truth while playing music. After becoming a Christian in New York, and helping out churches such as Everett, WA, he went to the Philippines to help the church there. That’s where he met my Mom. They both joined Open Doors ministry as missionaries to smuggle Bibles into China.
My Mother is a grants writer for a non-profit organization, helping out high-risk teens in national city.
My Lolo is a social worker as well… so is my Lola.
I… am… Little Bill? hahah a jaywalker? a fashifashwet?

Anyways… the intent isnt to brag of my “LEGACY”… but rather to show that we all serve as different body parts of life. As Christians–of any sect (Protestant/Catholic) or denomination (Nazerne, Bretheren, Assembly of God)–it is possibly important to see it this way. We each have different lives that point to different directions. No one person should have all the jobs, and not every person should have the same job. It’s similar to what Paul said in his letter… (I’m such a lame Christian… I dont even remember to which church he was talking to). Instead of what I said before, the body resembles life, in this case, the body resembles all us Christian brothers and sisters working together. K-I-T
To be honest… I don’t exactly know where I’m going.
I guess to sum up, every life is like a different part of the body. Each is a given a special and specific gift(s). Each to serve and to help another. Its important to think about every life we might touch.
Don’t be an appendix.
Be the hands and feet to help this body move.