tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70412898113867742622024-02-07T13:26:28.672-08:00Mossflowera girl's outlook on her worldKatiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875603488434952711noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-21248005548855716382011-03-01T14:39:00.000-08:002011-03-01T14:42:07.891-08:00And Whatsoever Ye Do<div align="center"><strong>“And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the LORD.” – Colossians 3:23 </strong></div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">God showed me this verse in a very striking way this morning. I was thinking back over a recent production of "Hi Ho, Robin Hood", and how busy we had been with it: the weeks of rehearsals; being at the theater every day, almost all day, for almost a week; everything we did, put aside, bought, found, donated and sacrificed for the show. I loved it. I loved every hectic minute, everything that we had to do or not do for the performance. I loved it because it was for theatre, and theatre is my passion. </div><br />This morning, this verse floated into my head, and I realized something: If, because theatre is my passion, I willingly give my time for lines and blocking and songs – even for shows I’m not in and may never be in, like Wicked and Cats – then how wonderful might my life be if God was my passion: if whatever I did was done with the wholeheartedness I give rehearsal and performance… if I did everything heartily, as to the Lord, for the simple reason that I am passionate about Him?<br /><br />To change my outlook like this is going to take time and work… but if I’m willing to give that to performance, I should be willing to give it to the Lord.Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-11089029440280281362011-02-04T06:48:00.000-08:002011-02-04T07:05:12.505-08:00"What Is Right With The World" - narration from G.K. Chesterton<span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"> <p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing">I did not make up that excellent title. The editor of this paper suggested it to me, and I agreed to write it, because it gave me the opportunity of telling a story about such titles.<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p></o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p> </o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing">People say that publishers crush and obscure the author, but in my experience they do just the opposite. I will not say that so far from making too little of the author, they make too much of him; this phrase is capable of a dark financial interpretation I do not mean to imply. But prominent authors are very largely the creations of their publishers. Once I wrote a sort of essay, divided into sections, on a certain point of political error. It seemed to me the real mistake in most modern sociological works. It was that “things that have been tried have been found wanting”. I intended to point out that this is untrue, and an old expedient may be the best thing for a new situation. Therefore, I claimed, we should look for the best method, whether it is in the future or the past. I imagined the book as a little dust-colored treatise without chapters, called “What Is Wrong” – meaning, of course, where the mistake is in the logic. But I had highly capable and sympathetic publishers, whose only weakness was that they thought my little essay much more important than I did. By some confusion of ecstasy (which I ought to have checked and didn’t) the title was changed into the apocalyptic trumpet-blast “What’s Wrong With The World”. It was shattered into three short fierce chapters like proclamations in a French riot. Outside there was an enormous portrait of myself looking like a depressed hairdresser, and the whole publication had ended up with the violence and urgency of a bombshell. Let it be understood that I do not blame the publishers in the least for this. I could have stopped it if I had minded my own affairs. I mention it only as an example of the error about publishers. They are always represented as cold and scornful merchants, whereas in reality their enthusiasm has oftener left me mourning.</p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing"> </p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing">I rather like this method of the publisher or editor writing the title and the author writing the remarks about it. Any man with a large mind ought to be able to write to order. Some of the greatest books in the world were written to fulfill a publisher’s sketch. But I only brought together these two examples of titles because they show the necessity of some restatement. The titles are both too complex and too simple. I could not make some discovery of my own of what is wrong with the world. What is wrong with the world is the devil, and what is right with it is God; the human race will travel for a few more million years in muddle and reform and when it perishes it will still be within the limits of that very simple definition. But our age has confused itself with terms like “optimist” and “pessimist”. Of course, “optimist” is used mainly about the future, as if the house of man were something more like a traveling caravan. It is criticized not by where it is but by where it is going.<o:p></o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p> </o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing">One very consistent thing about the future is that the prophecies are usually wrong. The people who are wrong are the people who were certain they were right. And it is because most of the people who influence the future are the ordinary ones who do not make or even hear of scientific predictions. They must be excused from not following the forecast, because they did not know it. They had no idea that they were avoiding what was really unavoidable. They are not uneducated – to say that is like saying of a Red Indian that he has not taken his degree. They have learned a great many things, and learned them well, outside of a school.<o:p></o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p> </o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing">So the primary truth is that what is right with the world has nothing to do with future changes, but is rooted in original realities. If people are unexpectedly independent or creative or fierce or self-sacrificing, these inexplicable outbursts can be attributed to the nature of men. Ancient traditions are the ones that lead to innovation, and nothing nowadays is as conservative as a revolution. And we ask if any of this matters at all?<o:p></o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p> </o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing">What is right with the world is the world. In fact, nearly everything else is wrong with it. The beginning of things is good: life and energy and living things are good, on their own. You can have evil livers, but not evil lives. Manhood and womanhood are good, though men and women are often a nuisance. You can use poppies to drug people or you can worship a stone, but poppies and stones are strictly beautiful and good before you have done anything. We admire the project of a world, as if we had been called to council in the primal darkness and seen the first blueprints of the skies. We are, actually, more sure that our life is a magnificent and amazing enterprise than we are sure that it will succeed. Meliorists, who are are evolutionary optimists (and a patient and poor-spirited lot they are) talk as if we were certain of the end but not of the beginning. In other words – they don’t know what life is aiming at, but they are quite sure it will eventually get there. Why anybody who has avowedly forgotten where he came from should be quite certain of where he is going to I have never been able to make out; but that is the way the Meliorists are. They are ready to talk of existence itself as the product of evil. They never mention animals except as eating each other, but a month in the country would cure all that. They are afraid, giddily horrified like a man on a cliff, of stars and seas, clay and fungus and very young animals, which reveals the fundamental pessimist. Life itself is horrible to them. They are like the lady who objected that the milk came to her from a dirty cow, rather than a nice clean shop – but they are sure how everything will end.<o:p></o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p> </o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing">I am in precisely the opposite position. I am far more sure that everything is good at first than that it will be good in the end. I am more certain than I can say that everything originally created is good. But as for what will happen to them – that would be to take a step into dogma and prophecy. Of course, I am speaking only of my personal feelings, not my religion or even my reasoned creed. I am an agnostic, like most people with a positive theology. But I do affirm that everything was good in the beginning. Trees and flowers and stars and people are primarily, not merely ultimately, good. In the Beginning God created heaven and earth and saw that they were good.<o:p></o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p> </o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing">All this unavoidable theory (for theory is always unavoidable) may be summarized thus. We are to regard existence as a raid or some great adventure: it is to be judged not by its calamities but by the flag it follows and the towns it assaults. The most dangerous thing in the world is to be alive. Anyone who shrinks from this is a pessimist who thinks (rightly) that he would rather be dead. Spiritually speaking, we should be justified in punishing him with death. Only, out of polite deference to his own philosophy, we punish him with life.<o:p></o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p> </o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing">Some people say that unity itself is a good thing: all rivers should run into one river, all vegetables go into one pot. They say that is the best fulfillment of being. Boys are to be “at one” with girls, all religions are to be “at one” in the New Age, beasts and men and God are “at one” with each other. But union itself is not a noble thing. Love is noble, but love is not union. Love is a vivid sense of identity and distinctness. The best love-poetry talks of people in love being distant from each other, and the greatest saints have felt their lowness, not their highness, in their moment of ecstasy. And what is true for such great matters is true for small things too. Variety is essential to praise; that and division are what is right with the world. There is nothing <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">right</i> about mere contact and coalescence. <o:p></o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p> </o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing">Unity is what we had before the world was made. Everything was one then – one undivided mass of chaos and nothingness. While a few prigs on platforms are preaching unity, the varieties of men, women and children are continually renewed among the valleys of our world – places where women are loved for being unmanly, and men for being unwomanly, where the church and the home are beautiful and flags are sacred. They are not mankind, but men.<o:p></o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p> </o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing">The only hope for the modern world is that all these dim democracies still believes in the romance of life and the variation of man, woman, and child upon which all poetry has been built. The danger of the modern world is that these dim democracies are so very dim, especially when they are right. The danger is that the world may be ruled by an oligarchy of prigs. (And if you ask me to define a prig, I should have to say that a prig is an oligarch who does not even know he is an oligarch.) A circle of pedants pass unanimously (in a meeting of none) that there is no difference between men and women and children, and below them boils the sea of millions that think differently, have always thought differently, will always think differently. Even though the numbers are so much in our favor, I am in serious doubt as to who will win. Men have been thrown upon their instincts lately, and their instincts, like animals’, are right; but like animals’, they can be cowed. Between the agile scholars and the stagnant mom I am really doubtful about which will be triumphant. I have no doubt at all about which ought to be.<o:p></o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p> </o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing">Europe is trying to solve the problem by politics. But Religion is returning from her exile as well; it is more likely that the future will be crazily and corruptly superstitious than merely rational. Of course, something will issue from our attempts to solve our problems; whether or not it solves or worsens them is anyone’s guess. But we all tend to make one mistake: we make politics too important. We forget how huge a part of life is the same under any government. Daybreak is a never-ending glory, getting out of bed is a never-ending nuisance, food and friends will be welcomed, work and strangers accepted and endured, birds will go bedwards and children won’t, to the end of the last evening. And the worst danger is that in our revolt against huge and important problems we may have unsettled the things that make daily life tolerable. It will be sad if, when we have worked for a holiday, we find that we have unlearnt everything but work. The typical modern man is the insane millionare who has drudged to get money and then finds he cannot enjoy it. There is danger that the social reformer may develop some attributes of the mad millionaire whom he denounces. He may find that he knows how to build playgrounds and not how to play, may agitate for peace and quiet and only propagate his own mental agitation. In his long fight to get a slave a half-holiday he may angrily deny those ancient and natural things, the zest of being, the divinity of man, the sacredness of simple things, the humor of the earth, which alone make a half-holiday half a holiday, or a slave even half a man.<o:p></o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p> </o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing">There is danger in the phrase “divine discontent.” There is truth too, of course, but it is only truth of a special, secondary kind. Much of the quarrel between Christianity and the world has been caused by this: there are generally two truths at any given moment of revolt or reaction, and then also the ancient truism which is nevertheless true all the time. It is sometimes worthwhile to point out that black is not <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">quite</i> pitch-black, but it is still black and not white. So it is with content and discontent. It is true that sometimes, in acute and painful crises of oppression, discontent is a duty and shame could call us like a trumpet. But it is not true that man should be discontented every moment of every ordinary day. It is not true that in his relation to everything, pain, friendship, death, weather, man ought to make discontent his ideal. That is lunacy. Half his hopes of happiness depend on his thinking a small house nice, a plain wife charming, a lame foot not unbearable, and bad cards not so bad. The voice of the special rebels and prophets recommending discontent should, as I have said, sound now and then, suddenly, like a trumpet. But the voices of the saints and sages, recommending contentment, should sound unceasingly, like the sea.<o:p> </o:p></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-63371552730887412332011-02-01T10:38:00.001-08:002011-02-01T10:41:17.673-08:00Snow.Mom: I hope the snow lets up tomorrow. I mean, today it's novel and fun, but tomorrow it's going to be a nuisance, and by Thursday it'll be unbearable.<br />Me: By Friday we'll all be gasping like fish. Saturday we'll collapse.Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-29675286713754075772011-01-25T06:53:00.000-08:002011-01-25T06:55:59.551-08:00Solitude<p style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.25in; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">This is an SAT practice essay I wrote a few weeks ago.</span></p><p style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.25in; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span> </p><p style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.25in; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">***********</span></p><p style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.25in; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span> </p><p style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.25in; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">In Daniel Defoe’s novel <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Robinson Crusoe</i>, the island where the title character is trapped is, for the first part of the story, uninhabited. Crusoe is alone with himself and his thoughts. Having no one to talk to, he begins to talk to himself, asking and trying to answer questions like “Why?” This introspection gradually helps him understand his past, a possible purpose for his shipwreck, and even a little more about how God is working in his life.<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.25in; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">In this ultimate solitude Crusoe is better able to develop an objective worldview. There is nobody to interrupt or argue with him. Emily Dickenson, a Romantic-era poet, stayed concealed in her home with little outside contact, and her poems are deeply thoughtful and even, at times, theological. Like Crusoe, she found her worldview by herself.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.25in; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">There is a downside to a sealed environment, though. Mark Twain wrote a short story called “The Man Who Corrupted Hadleyburg,” in which the inhabitants of Hadleyburg protect themselves so carefully from any dishonesty that when one man is able to sneak a temptation into the city, every person in the town falls to it in a matter of weeks. Untested faith is often blind and useless.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.25in; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">Perhaps introspection and solitude are necessary to develop ideas and achieve goals, but then everything must be tested in the ordinary world. An experiment that works in a closed system may quite possibly crash and burn outside. Nothing will past the test of time if it cannot first pass the tests of experience, thought and argument. And worthwhile argument is seldom put forward when a person is talking to himself.</span></p>Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-76525617932569266012010-02-18T19:26:00.000-08:002010-02-18T19:39:25.889-08:00A Few Things I Figured Out TodayThere is a poster on my wall with information about nuclear fusion and plasmas.<br /><br />Plasmas are the fourth state of matter. I don't know much else about them, because I usually don't read that poster, but this morning while I was fixing my hair I started reading it and I noticed something.<br /><br />There is a chart on the poster that has examples of plasmas. Most of them are unfamiliar and scientific-sounding, but one of the first ones on the list is Fire. Beside it is a list of the first three states of matter - gas, liquid and solid.<br /><br />All of a sudden something clicked in my mind.<br /><br />The Greeks believed everything was made up of four elements - fire, water, air and earth. They weren't quite right with the element idea, but if you look closely at their list you will notice something. Fire is a plasma. Water is a liquid. Air is a gas. Earth is a solid.<br /><br />The Greeks were right. Everything is made up of those four kinds of matter - though maybe not fire, water, air and earth in particular. A substance must be either a plasma, liquid, gas or solid to exist physically.<br />~~~<br />The other thing I figured out was Global Warming. The people who are worried about it just need to take a deep breath and review the Ecology chapter of their biology books.<br /><br />Global warming comes from the greenhouse effect. The greenhouse effect is where gases - mostly carbon dioxide - are trapped by the atmosphere to heat the earth so that we do not become a freezing planet where life cannot be supported. In global warming, carbon dioxide just keeps stacking up against the atmosphere and it can't escape. It heats the earth more than necessary. Ice caps melt and the sea rises.<br /><br />Carbon dioxide can be taken out of the air in two ways. Plants can breathe it in and turn it into oxygen. Or... it can dissolve in the ocean.<br /><br />Ergo: if there is more carbon dioxide, the earth heats up. But if the earth heats up, the oceans rise. And if the oceans rise, carbon dioxide is dissolved in it.<br /><br />I just solved a mystery! Global warming is not a problem. It's part of the earth's natural cycle.Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-10127337992847096352010-01-24T14:40:00.000-08:002010-01-24T14:41:16.964-08:00If You Give Leonardo da Vinci a Paintbrush...If you give Leonardo da Vinci a paintbrush, he will want to paint the universal picture.<br /><br />When he figures out he can’t do it, he will be sad and need a handkerchief.<br /><br />When you hand him the handkerchief, he will notice that the way you are holding it makes it look like a face. He will immediately cheer up and ask you to hold it just like that while he sketches it.<br /><br />After a while he will get tired of drawing the handkerchief and start drawing you instead. You will not notice until he asks you to look at the picture. Since you were not paying attention, you look like you were staring off into space. (People for years afterwards will wonder why you have that strange smile on your face.)<br /><br />Since he finished the picture, he will be very happy. But since he is so easily distracted, he will forget why he is happy, and eventually think it is because he has figured out how to unite the universal and particular. You will ask him to explain it, because it sounds interesting. He will try to explain, but he will not be able to, because he does not know how to unite the universal and particular without bringing God into the matter, which he does not want to do. He will get very confused and confuse you too, and the two of you will sit and be confused together for a while.<br /><br />After a while he will forget why he was confused and want to paint a new universal picture. And if he tries to paint a universal picture, he’ll need a paintbrush.Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-62039087176103925272010-01-05T16:53:00.000-08:002010-01-05T17:12:49.304-08:00New Year Resolutions... or Whatever They AreThis is my first time actually writing down a New Year Resolutions list, so it's not quite so polished and complete-looking as some of the lists out there....<br /><br /><br /><ul><li>Finish writing the unnamed book that looks as if it will be a prequel to an already-planned trilogy.</li><li>Play Charlotte in <em>Charlotte's Web</em> at one or more productions (and hopefully do well...)</li><li>Keep time spent on the Internet to a minimum.</li><li>Learn to speak Welsh, complete with grammar.</li><li>Learn to sing "Almost There" from <em>The Princess and the Frog.</em></li><li>Participate in a Shakespeare play.</li><li>Learn to drive.</li></ul><p>Cornflower saw me and she wants to put down her resolutions here too, so here they are:<br /><br />Bake a cake.<br />Read books I haven't read.<br />Catch up on math.<br />Have my friends over.<br />Go to the movies!!<br />Learn "Fur Elise" on the piano.<br />Give my sisters hugs. </p>Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-79323443578313828902009-12-17T19:02:00.000-08:002009-12-17T19:06:29.859-08:00Meet Sir Ursius and GalahadI would like to introduce the newest members of my diverse toy family - Sir Ursius and Galahad. Sir Ursius is a large, plushy, white bear with a cheerful countenance. Galahad is similar but much smaller in size, and wears a red bowtie. They are an inseperable pair, owing to the fact that Galahad is sewed to Ursius. Cornflower has taken an instant like to the bear knights, and has kidnapped them from their fortress at least four times in as many days. I think Galahad likes her, but Sir Ursius is not happy with these proceedings. Galahad, I've discovered, likes anyone who will hug him.Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-7696507019771569872009-12-12T10:41:00.000-08:002009-12-12T10:42:17.629-08:00Pie in the SkyOh dear<br />i fear<br />that i<br />can't fly<br />but if<br />you sniff<br />you soar<br />for more!<br />more what?<br />a glut<br />the sky<br />is pie<br />and i<br />know why<br />because<br />of fuzz<br />that flies<br />and cries<br />and sighs<br />and dies<br />and then<br />the jinn<br />comes through<br />the slough<br />and takes<br />and bakes<br />the pie.<br /><br />this poem is by<br />mother auma and i.Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-58585480740801066172009-12-09T10:35:00.000-08:002009-12-09T10:36:25.803-08:00Glenna Sere<em>Il seria melë glenna sere:<br />Si muna tisera na ayë.<br />Si lanta srim yrram ra ila osse,<br />Tiaril il laene ran ayosse,<br />Si lynna ri melë riëlis,<br />Lyarem srim si taeth rithis!<br />Si ossla anore srim ynnde,<br />Il seria melë glenna sere!</em><br /><em></em><br />~~~~<br /><br />I see with new eyes:<br />The world glistens in light.<br />Rain has come through my night,<br />Trees I know all sparkle,<br />The meadows shine brightly.<br />Gone is the veil of mist!<br />The darkened window has vanished,<br />I see with new eyes!<br /><br />1 Corinthians 13:12 – For now we see through a glass, darkly…Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-85620483788427035962009-11-30T13:35:00.000-08:002009-11-30T13:40:24.155-08:00The Boon of LifeKy-yow replied: The boon of life is health.<br />Paddle-foot, Feather-straight, Supple-neck, Button-eye:<br />These have the world's wealth.<br /><br />Aged Ank answered: Honor is our all.<br />Path-finder, People-feeder, Plan-provider, Sage-commander:<br />These hear the call.<br /><br />Lyo-lyok the lightsome said: Love had I liefer.<br />Douce-down, Tender-tread, Warm-nest and Walk-in-line:<br />These live for ever.<br /><br />Aahng-ung was for Appetite. Ah, he said, Eating!<br />Gander-gobble, Tear-grass, Stubble-stalk, Stuff-crop:<br />These take some beating.<br /><br />Wink-wink praised Comrades, the fair free fraternity.<br />Line-astern, Echelon, Arrow-head, Over-cloud:<br />These learn Eternity.<br /><br />But I, Lyow, choose Lay-making, of loud lilts which linger.<br />Horn-music, Laughter-song, Epic-heart, Ape-the-world:<br />These Lyow, the singer.<br /><br />-- T.H. White, <em>The Once and Future King: Book 1</em>Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-91473852922927826952009-11-09T16:41:00.000-08:002009-11-09T17:04:01.217-08:00A New PosterHello out there, everyone!<br /><br />I know this says that Aravis posted it down at the bottom, but that's just 'cause I'm on her account. I don't have my own, because I am Thumper. But I was watching her, laughing at Beatrice's videos and Mother Auma's amusing accounts of daily life, and it seemed like so much fun... so I got on here. I wanted to share something too.<br /><br />The best thing I can think of to share is Outdoors. It's a very nice place, you know... it was rather windy today. Outside is a beautiful place to eat carrots. When you have carrots, and you are outside, and the wind is blowing, then everything is good. Oh, and when one of the stuffed animals is by the window, that's even better, because then you have someone to visit with. The White Rabbit, Ninquë, is probably my best friend. Sometimes she talks to me in Elvish. I have a suspicion that she wants to teach me Elvish, but I don't think I'm interested. Ivey already calls me "An-Lhaw", which is Numenorean for "long-ears", and "Conejita", which is Spanish for "bunny". I don't need another language when I can't even speak.<br /><br />Ninquë says that I ought to make the acquaintance of Sir Saucy Sparrow, who visits the backyard regularly. I think I might, but he's always so busy, and he's always talking to Lady Bianca Sparrow. They like to talk, and it would be fun to visit with them, but I don't know how to start a conversation very well. Verd the grasshopper says that Sir Saucy and Lady Bianca are quite nice, and he'd introduce me if I liked. Maybe I will.<br /><br />But for now I'm making the acquaintance of everyone out in the blogosphere! Hi there! And Ninquë and Verd say hello too. So would Speckle of San Francisco, the seal, if he knew I was on here. And I suppose the Sparrows would to. So hi from everyone!Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-21800485872610588362009-09-26T18:48:00.000-07:002009-09-26T18:49:43.658-07:00The Song of the Meanderers<div align="center">Winding, meandering, leading on,<br />The road we take is fair and long.<br />We wander on from here to there,<br />And we will perform most anywhere.<br /><br />One play, a castle lawn,<br />Next day, we’re sure to be gone,<br />Next play, a village square –<br />But when you come back, we won’t be there.<br /><br />We’re going somewhere, we don’t know where,<br />We only know we must be there,<br />And when we come, it’s then we know,<br />There’s still a place we want to go.<br /><br />We’ve practiced all our acts for weeks<br />We cannot hurry on and leave<br />We’ll show them to you, then we’ll depart –<br />Skipping on to the tune in our hearts.</div>Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-29961460275956772062009-09-17T06:34:00.000-07:002009-09-17T06:38:27.253-07:00Friendship: Definition Paragraph"Friendship is one of the most satisfying things in the world," says Wilbur, a pig from the book <em>Charlotte's Web</em>. But just what is friendship? Some synonyms are <em>love</em>, <em>affinity</em>, or <em>unity</em>. Friendship is the opposite of <em>hatred</em> or <em>enmity</em>. A similar term is <em>loyalty</em>. When combined, friendship and loyalty can do amazing things. In <em>Lord of the Rings</em>, the Fellowship was chosen more for loyalty and friendship than power or strength. The reason for this was that good was fighting against evil, love against hate, and unity against enmity. Friendship is not only one of the most satisfying things in the world, but also one of the most amazing.Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-13322692164114681832009-08-22T09:44:00.001-07:002009-08-22T09:57:22.366-07:00Everything-That-Comes-To-Mind PostGot this idea from Mother Auma. Thanks, Mommy!<br /><br /><div align="center">~~~</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Mariel and Cornflower are painting their room. They are thrilled. Mother Auma is helping.</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="center">~~~</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Mariel and I were trying to sound out the do-re-mi's to Pippin's song "All shall fade" and a friend of mine sent me a link to the song online. Now I have both the do-re-mi's and the lyrics. Yay!</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="center">~~~</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">My story is undergoing inordinate yet necessary revision.</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="center">~~~</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">I'm reading the Mitford books, along with Mother Auma and my Grammy. My favorite characters are Cynthia Coppersmith Kavanagh and Hope... what's her name? Hope Winchester?... from the Happy Endings Bookstore.</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="center">~~~</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">This summer I've been in theater, as Charlotte of <em>Charlotte's Web</em>, the schoolteacher from <em>The Pied Piper</em>, and Despina (Ariel) from <em>The Little Mermaid</em>, and I finally have all my scripts memorized!!!</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Now Mother Auma wants me to memorize Romans 8. </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">~~~</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">It's a lot of fun to take a really simple outfit and add things like fancy earrings or a scarf to make it totally different. I bought some really pretty earrings but every time I'm about to wear them, I think, "These earring are just way too fancy for today. I'll wear them to church or something."</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="center">~~~</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Thumper Pasque Hyzenthlay Thethuthinnang, otherwise known as Thumper or the Thumpress, has found a lovely game to play with me when it's too hot for her to go outside. I open her cage door, then I lie down in the middle of the room with a book and pretend I don't know she's there. She will bounce out of the cage, thump, race to me, take a flying leap over me and then zip under the bed, emerging at frequent intervals to growl at her enemy the Evil Smiley-Faced Pillow or to jump over me again.</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="center">~~~</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">That's everything that came to mind!</div>Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-87983650010332475362009-08-16T14:33:00.000-07:002009-08-16T14:36:06.561-07:00Name Change NotificationI have not read the Redwall books in goodness knows how long. And I would not classify them as extraordinarily good literature. And I have officially moved off that reading level (whatever the word "officially" means in that sentence). And I'm bored of the name Triss.<br /><br />I would like to introduce myself to the members of the blogosphere as Aravis, who is my favorite Narnia character. The Chronicles are <em>more-than-extraordinarily-good</em> literature, in my opinion.Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-13109164978427726712009-07-11T06:14:00.000-07:002009-07-11T06:17:58.614-07:00<em>I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew:<br />Of wind I sang, a wind there came and in the branches blew.<br />Beyond the sun, beyond the moon, the foam was on the Sea,<br />And by the strand of Ilmarin there grew a golden Tree.<br />Beneath the stars of Ever-eve in Eldamar it shone,<br />In Eldamar beside the walls of Elven Tirion.<br />There long the golden leaves have grown upon the branching years,<br />While here beyond the Sundering Seas now fall the Elven-tears.<br />O Lórien! The Winter comes, the bare and leafless Day;<br />The leaves are falling in the stream, the River flows away.<br />O Lórien! Too long I have dwelt upon this Hither Shore<br />And in a fading crown have twined the golden elanor.<br />But if of ships I now should sing, what ship would come to me,<br />What ship would bear me ever back across so wide a Sea?</em><br /><em></em><br />--The Lament of Galadriel<br /><br />(If you knows the history of Galadriel, you'll understand her song a lot better. If you know what her name means, bonus points. :-)Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-78541038751769074842009-07-02T12:51:00.001-07:002009-07-02T12:51:26.075-07:00Finished Composition: Dragons“Rising from the near side of the rocky floor there is a great glow – the glow of Smaug! There he lay, a vast red-golden dragon…” Thus J.R.R. Tolkien introduces his readers to the villainous Smaug, a dragon living inside an old dwarf-castle. For a long time, dragons have interested readers, but they are dangerous.<br /><br />How do you recognize a dragon? They are reptilian creatures, with dinosaur-like bodies and enormous batwings. Many shoot fire from their mouths, and some have the unusual ability to breathe ice as well. Dragons are often warm, fiery colors such as red, gold or orange. Some have a cooler color like silver on their stomach and underneath their wings. They are, as a general rule, very large.<br /><br />They are very powerful creatures. They can see and hear and smell exceptionally well, and are usually smart. Some can read minds, or trick a victim into telling their secrets aloud. They are also, of course, very strong and can fly. They have amazing memories: they can remember every last piece of treasure in a hoard, and if they once hear something they never forget it. Some can also armor themselves with gems.<br /><br />However, they are conquerable. When they armor themselves with jewels, dragons will sometimes miss a spot and create an “Achilles’ heel”. They have strong immune systems, but can still catch diseases. They are extremely fierce when angry, but they can never resist riddles! Bilbo Baggins was able to stop Smaug from attacking him and his friends by keeping the dragon guessing with his mysterious descriptions of his adventures.<br /><br />Îrënwhyft Snowflame is a dragon. He is red-gold on top and silver on the bottom. He is very protective of his reputation, as well as his treasure-heap, and he guards both carefully from the Miner-folk that live in the same mountain. He is very suspicious and cautious, but like most dragons has a great love for beautiful things. He is rather lazy, and spends a lot of time asleep. His red eyes can draw a person towards him, or find their true identity no matter how they disguise it.<br /><br />Some people find dragons too fascinating to avoid, but, as I said before, dragons are dangerous. For these imaginative readers, I would suggest creating a dragon of your own. Îrënwhyft is my own creation, and if he grows too powerful I can remove a few of his abilities and reconquer him once more. Malice, fire-breath, and scaly wings are a good place to begin!Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-73790969314158952592009-05-13T08:00:00.000-07:002009-05-13T08:12:14.932-07:00"Ours is Not to Reason Why - Just Invert and Multiply!"Today's math lesson, courtesy of the VideoText program, cleared up what has always been one of math's mysterious mysteries - that mystifying "invert-and-multiply" rule.<br /><br />If you want to divide 4/5 by 7/8, then you would think that "all you do is multipy 4/5 by 8/7". But how in the world did we get 8/7 out of 7/8?<br /><br />4/5 divided by 7/8 means 4/5 <strong>/</strong> 7/8. We have to get a one at the bottom, to simplify this strange and complex fraction. So we multiply 7/8 by its reciprocal - 8/7 - to get a one.<br /><br />Does anyone understand why<br />We must invert and multiply?<br /><br />It's a simplification of a simple process. Anyone who's worked with fractions knows that when you multiply the bottom of a fraction by any number, you have to do the top, too! So we multiply 4/5 by 8/7 too - tada! The answer is 32/35.<br /><br />This was such an exciting discovery I just had to share it with someone. So if you're out there in the cyberworld and you've always wondered why we "never reason why - just invert and multiply"...<br /><br />are you excited too?Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-12742512445216909372009-01-12T17:00:00.001-08:002009-01-12T17:17:47.840-08:00Ha ha haMariel and I were enjoying Mother Auma's funny posts when I noticed that Mariel was toying with her expanders (which she is not supposed to do, as it inhibits her dental progress). I pushed her over, and she fell on the floor. I grabbed her leg in a vain attempt to steady her.<br /><br />"Are you dead?" I queried, rather unsurely.<br /><br />She looked up at me from her fit of giggles, and quoted L.M. Montgomery. "No, Diana, but I think I am rendered unconscious."<br /><br />I played along. "Where, Anne, WHERE?!"<br /><br />Ah, the joys of reading.Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-50368525393928042752009-01-12T11:03:00.000-08:002009-01-12T11:04:40.098-08:00I took a quiz and I am...Susan <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Pevensie</span> is the second oldest of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Pevensie</span> children. You strongly believe in logic. You're a smart one; perhaps too smart. You're not very optimistic but that is a result from the war. You try and act older than you are and it shows. You're very good looking and a lot of people envy you. Just have a little faith.<br /><br />---The "Which Narnia Character Are You?" QuizAravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-51525840299611631122009-01-12T07:26:00.000-08:002009-01-12T07:27:26.038-08:00Watership Down Characters: FiverFiver is very small and underweight. He is more tense and jumpy than the other rabbits. He has “wide, staring eyes and a way of raising and turning his head which suggested not so much caution as a kind of ceaseless, nervous tension.” As rabbits can count up to four, any number after that is hrair, “a lot” or literally “a thousand”. Fiver’s Lapine name is Hrairoo, meaning “Little Thousand” or “Little of a Lot”. He was the runt of a five-rabbit litter.<br /><br />Fiver has a strange gift. He can see the future in bits and pieces, and can see through pretenses and shams. This makes him wiser than other rabbits, and he is truly the one who guides them to Watership Down. He is timid, but when he sees things as they truly are, he acquires a sort of quiet, almost eerie eloquence that commands attention. At one point, Bigwig gets furious with him because Fiver is the only one who can see that in the warren they have just found, there are snares everywhere and the rabbits are unwittingly a part of the man’s farm. “You wretched little beetle!” he yells. “It’s ‘me, me, me’ all the time, isn’t it! ‘Oh, I’ve got a funny feeling in my toe, so now we must all go and stand on our heads!’ And now we’ve found a fine warren and got in without a fight or even a disturbance, you’ve got to do your best to upset everyone! I suppose you’ll go wandering about now until an owl gets you!”<br /><br />“No,” Fiver says quietly. “You are closer to death than I.”<br /><br />“Are you trying to frighten me?” Bigwig snaps. “Well, I’m finished with you – and I’m going back to the warren to make sure everyone else is too!” He turns and dashes off through the bushes – and runs straight into a snare, proving what Fiver had been saying.<br /><br />Fiver lends an air of mystery and things unseen to the story. “Fiver,” says Hazel, “what would we have done without you [at the farm]? We’d none of us be here, would we?”<br /><br />“You’re sure we are here then?”<br /><br />“That’s too mysterious for me,” replies Hazel. “What do you mean?”<br /><br />“Well, there’s another place – another country, isn’t there? We go there when we sleep; at other times too [as in when we daydream]; and when we die. El-ahrairah comes and goes between the two as he wants, I suppose, but I could never quite make that out, from the tales. Some rabbits will tell you it’s all easy there, compared with the waking dangers that they understand. But I think that only shows they don’t know much about it. It’s a wild place, and very unsafe. And where are we really – there or here?”<br /><br />Fiver is admirable because he can stand firm in the face of disbelief. Richard Adams modeled him after Cassandra, the ancient prophetess cursed always to tell the truth and never to be believed. Even when everyone else thinks he is making a fuss about nothing, he does not squash his gift down and say, “Oh, yes, I’m sure I must have just eaten something that disagreed with me and I’m having a nightmare,” if he is really sure that this is his gift “speaking” to him. He “sticks to his guns” and always tells the truth. I admire him for his honesty as well.Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-42162949162954865422009-01-12T07:20:00.000-08:002009-01-12T07:26:25.888-08:00Higher Powers<em>Imagine if there were no authority higher than the government. Governments are, after all, nothing more than collections of exceedingly human politicians and bureaucrats. What if these people who are mere flesh and blood like you and me were the top, the be all and end all, the final answer? How depressing. And frightening.</em><br /><em></em><br />--<em>Whatever Happened to Justice</em>, by Richard MayburyAravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-74309283128589689632008-12-11T13:09:00.000-08:002008-12-11T13:10:57.604-08:00Watership Down Characters: HazelHazel is a leader among rabbits. He is described as being “still below full weight” and with a “shrewd, buoyant air”. He is not one of the “Owsla”, the top rank of clever and strong rabbits in a warren, but he is not a bullied, harassed rabbit because of this. He can take care of himself and is a very good leader.<br /><br />Hazel is protective of those under his care. His brother Fiver is small, underweight and often bullied, and Hazel keeps older, stronger and meaner rabbits away from him. He is capable too, and noble in that he is willing to stay by the smaller rabbits. When they are journeying, they come to a river. It is swelled and rushing, but on the side they’re on is a dog who is hunting. The older rabbits can swim the flood, but Fiver and Pipkin are too small and tired out to. Bigwig, an impatient, tough rabbit, says that those who can should cross the stream and whoever can’t can just come later or not at all. Hazel says that he isn’t leaving Fiver and Pipkin, and if one of the other rabbits hadn’t found a large piece of wood for a raft, Hazel would have stayed and been killed by the dog along with Pipkin and Fiver before abandoning them.<br /><br />Hazel is essential to the plot. One might call him the “star”. He is the one who takes care of everyone and keeps them going until they reach Watership Down. Without him, the plot would feel empty, as though something important were missing. But like everyone else, he has his weak points. Because he is secretly a little upset at not being chosen to “ambassador” to Efrafa, a nearby warren, he leads a disastrous raid on a nearby farm to rescue four rabbits who have lived there all their lives and are well taken care of, but lack the important instincts necessary to live in the wild. This raid results in three rabbits joining their warren, one being captured again and put back in the hutch, and Hazel being shot with a gun in his leg (causing in him being slightly lame there for the rest of his life).<br /><br />I admire Hazel for his bravery, fortitude and nobility. When everyone else is tired and wants to stop traveling and stay where they are, he is the one who keeps them going. When Bigwig is caught in a snare and believed dead, he is the one who tries to get them away before a man comes. When the other rabbits begin to doubt Fiver’s visions and start turning against him, he is the one who restores them to sense. “A Chief Rabbit must be El-ahrairah [the rabbit hero; literally Elil-Hrair-Rah, enemies-thousand-prince: Prince with a Thousand Enemies] to his people and teach them cunning.” He is a true leader and one of the best personalities I have ever met.Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7041289811386774262.post-6858804448406556092008-12-10T09:23:00.001-08:002008-12-10T09:23:48.763-08:00Deadlines'My deadlines have come upon me!' cried<br />The Lady of Shalott.Aravishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02227316167880057726noreply@blogger.com0