Images that move me
by Langdon Graves
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Friday, May 18, 2007
Friday, May 11, 2007
Alright so I'm a real crap blogger.
I only get the chance to blog on breaks from school or when I am utterly bored at work. Right now it's both! Forgive me.
I'm at the end of my final break before the end of the term. The next term is 10 weeks long and we are venturing into the realms of characters. I'm completely excited. We are ending this year with several projects including a solo piece that is the accumulation of what we have been moved by in the year. I am very blessed by this program, even when I am frustrated I have trust and respect for the faculty.
I'll admit at the end of this term was the first time that I felt that I really needed a break from school. I was having frustrations with everything from school, classmates, and London to my own identity.
I am happy to say that I have righted myself (well, as "right" as I am happy) at the end of these two weeks (helped out by four days spent in Portugal with Diogo and running till I vomited one morning *good for the soul*). I'm ready to remount school with renewed anticipation, inspiration, and joy.
Now I am ready for school to start again and, of course, the anticipation is maddening. *Breath*
I am so impatient.
P.S. I'll be in the states for my brother's wedding. June 2. But it will only be for two days and I'll be in Kfalls. Sorry to my Portland Friends!
I only get the chance to blog on breaks from school or when I am utterly bored at work. Right now it's both! Forgive me.
I'm at the end of my final break before the end of the term. The next term is 10 weeks long and we are venturing into the realms of characters. I'm completely excited. We are ending this year with several projects including a solo piece that is the accumulation of what we have been moved by in the year. I am very blessed by this program, even when I am frustrated I have trust and respect for the faculty.
I'll admit at the end of this term was the first time that I felt that I really needed a break from school. I was having frustrations with everything from school, classmates, and London to my own identity.
I am happy to say that I have righted myself (well, as "right" as I am happy) at the end of these two weeks (helped out by four days spent in Portugal with Diogo and running till I vomited one morning *good for the soul*). I'm ready to remount school with renewed anticipation, inspiration, and joy.
Now I am ready for school to start again and, of course, the anticipation is maddening. *Breath*
I am so impatient.
P.S. I'll be in the states for my brother's wedding. June 2. But it will only be for two days and I'll be in Kfalls. Sorry to my Portland Friends!
Thursday, May 10, 2007
men hugging
men hugging
Originally uploaded by Jillianlynn.
Portuguese Men sharing a little love. Diogo's friend's Gonzalo and Freddie.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
cross on the beach
cross on the beach
Originally uploaded by Jillianlynn.
a cross outside a church near the beach in Espinho
Monday, April 23, 2007
The Body to the Soul
by Eva Gore-Booth
You have dragged me on through the wild wood ways,
You have given me toil and scanty rest,
I have seen the light of ten thousand days
Grow dim and sink and fade in the West.
Once you bore me forth from the dusty gloom,
Weeping and helpless and naked and blind,
Now you would hide me deep down in the tomb,
And wander away on the moonlit wind.
You would bury me like a thing of shame,
Silently into the darkness thrust,
You would mix my heart that was once a flame
With the mouldering clay and the wandering dust.
The eyes that wept for your sorrowful will
Shall be laid among evil and unclean things,
The heart that was faithful through good and ill
You scorn for a flutter of tawdry wings.
You were the moonlight, I lived in the sun;
Could there ever be peace between us twain?
I sought the Many, you seek the One,
You are the slayer, I am the slain.
Oh soul, when you mount to your flame-built throne
Will you dream no dream of the broken clay?
Will you breathe o’er the stars in your pathway strown,
No sigh for the daisies of yesterday?
As you wander the shining corridors,
A lonely wave in the ocean of light,
Have you never a thought of the lake’s lost shores,
Or the fire-lit cottage dim and white?
Shall not the dear smell of the rain-wet soil
Through the windless spheres and the silence float?
Shall not my hands that are brown with toil
Take your dreams and high desires by the throat?
Behold, I reach forth from beyond the years,
I will cry to you from beneath the sod,
I will drag you back from the starry spheres,
Yea, down from the very bosom of God.
You cannot hide from the sun and the wind,
Or the whispered song of the April rain,
The proud earth that moulds all things to her mind,
Shall gather you out of the deeps again.
You shall follow once more a wandering fire,
You shall gaze again on the starlit sea,
You shall gather roses out of the mire:
Alas, but you shall not remember me.
by Eva Gore-Booth
You have dragged me on through the wild wood ways,
You have given me toil and scanty rest,
I have seen the light of ten thousand days
Grow dim and sink and fade in the West.
Once you bore me forth from the dusty gloom,
Weeping and helpless and naked and blind,
Now you would hide me deep down in the tomb,
And wander away on the moonlit wind.
You would bury me like a thing of shame,
Silently into the darkness thrust,
You would mix my heart that was once a flame
With the mouldering clay and the wandering dust.
The eyes that wept for your sorrowful will
Shall be laid among evil and unclean things,
The heart that was faithful through good and ill
You scorn for a flutter of tawdry wings.
You were the moonlight, I lived in the sun;
Could there ever be peace between us twain?
I sought the Many, you seek the One,
You are the slayer, I am the slain.
Oh soul, when you mount to your flame-built throne
Will you dream no dream of the broken clay?
Will you breathe o’er the stars in your pathway strown,
No sigh for the daisies of yesterday?
As you wander the shining corridors,
A lonely wave in the ocean of light,
Have you never a thought of the lake’s lost shores,
Or the fire-lit cottage dim and white?
Shall not the dear smell of the rain-wet soil
Through the windless spheres and the silence float?
Shall not my hands that are brown with toil
Take your dreams and high desires by the throat?
Behold, I reach forth from beyond the years,
I will cry to you from beneath the sod,
I will drag you back from the starry spheres,
Yea, down from the very bosom of God.
You cannot hide from the sun and the wind,
Or the whispered song of the April rain,
The proud earth that moulds all things to her mind,
Shall gather you out of the deeps again.
You shall follow once more a wandering fire,
You shall gaze again on the starlit sea,
You shall gather roses out of the mire:
Alas, but you shall not remember me.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Sunday, April 01, 2007
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