Yay Music!!

Ok so I was just introduced to this band and they are AMAZING!!! They are called Blackalicious.. And I love their individuality and the lyrics of their songs are so inspiring!  Just listen...

Click on this link pleaseeeee!!!! I promise you won't be disappointed!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nwwWbL2Ifq0

Chess....

I have never understood how to play chess... I have never really sat down and had someone explain it to me, so I guess that would probably help, but it seems like no one even plays it anymore anyway; the last time I saw someone play chess was... too long ago to remember.  It just seems so complicated, and then there are all the different ways to play!  I have chess on my computer as an application that comes with it, so I have kind ok tried to learn with just playing against the computer, but the computer is really good and I'm not sure I learn much... maybe I could make that into a project: learn how to play chess, become a master at it, and then compete in chess tournaments.  It could be the "inspiring story of the young girl who conquered the world's obstacles and overcame her fears"... nope.  Playing chess always reminds me of Pixar, in the beginning of A Bug's Life when they have the little animation of the old man playing chess with himself... brings back memories...:)

OH NO!!

Oh no! I totally forgot to do a blog post on Thursday! I was just so wrapped up in the fun of the day, because it was one of the first really good days I've had in quite some time...:)  Last day of the school week, V-Day, V-Day dance, hanging with my buddies, etc. etc.  Anyways, how was your Valentines Day?

Global Harmony

So this week I am going to a sort of self-improvement, forum, intensive thing for a couple days called Global Harmony.  I hove done the adult course before and I love it!  It's amazing what I can learn and discover and grow about myself, and I am very exited, especially given the recent events in my life.  I am writing about it because in Global Harmony, not everything is black and white.  Actually, the gray areas are what we focus on.:)

What?

Ok.  I'm sorry, but no matter how many explanations or how much money they are worth, I will never understand those paintings that are simply... white.  Yes, there are the artists who have painted an amazing piece and then painted over it in white, as a statement of some sort.  Or the ones who paint a whole scene using just texture, but only white paint.  And yes, that's cool, that's fine, I'm not here to tell anyone that they can or can't do anything, and I'm certainly not saying I am the ultimate judge of art and that I know all, I am simply saying that I don't understand.

And some of these white paintings sell for so much money it's quite scary.  Scary that people are investing so much effort and money into buying a couple panels of white painted canvas when there are so many other things that effort and money could be devoted to.

Here's what I'm talking about:

Poetry

Since I posted a white thing poem, now I have to post a black thing poem.  I like this one, and the message it is portraying.  Here goes.

The Chimney Sweeper: A little black thing among the snow

By William Blake

A little black thing among the snow,

Crying "weep! 'weep!" in notes of woe!

"Where are thy father and mother? say?"

"They are both gone up to the church to pray.

Because I was happy upon the heath,

And smil'd among the winter's snow,

They clothed me in the clothes of death,

And taught me to sing the notes of woe.

And because I am happy and dance and sing,

They think they have done me no injury,

And are gone to praise God and his Priest and King,

Who make up a heaven of our misery."

I came across this poem while looking at slam poetry and other poetry on the web, and I thought it would be perfect for this blog.  It kind of holds a lot of truth for me right now.  I won't go into it.

Also while reading it I came to the conclusion, (I think), that the 6th stanza is talking about Emily Dickinson.

Enjoy.

The White Room
by Charles Simic
The obvious is difficult To prove. Many prefer The hidden. I did, too. I listened to the trees. They had a secret Which they were about to Make known to me-- And then didn't. Summer came. Each tree On my street had its own Scheherazade. My nights Were a part of their wild Storytelling. We were Entering dark houses, Always more dark houses, Hushed and abandoned. There was someone with eyes closed On the upper floors. The fear of it, and the wonder, Kept me sleepless. The truth is bald and cold, Said the woman Who always wore white. She didn't leave her room. The sun pointed to one or two Things that had survived The long night intact. The simplest things, Difficult in their obviousness. They made no noise. It was the kind of day People described as "perfect." Gods disguising themselves As black hairpins, a hand-mirror, A comb with a tooth missing? No! That wasn't it. Just things as they are, Unblinking, lying mute In that bright light-- And the trees waiting for the night.