She has no legs;
She won't run.
She has no arms;
She won't fight.
But-
She has heart;
So she'll feel.
Eyes
And she'll cry.
Words
So she'll write.
Monday, April 13, 2015
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Nike for Creativity
There seems to be a way in which people get so caught in everything that is immediately in front of them. This is something I’m guilty of, too. but I find that it’s an especially difficult pattern to break when your dependent on others to create that world that surrounds you. I mean specifically the kinds of things that we use to entertain ourselves. Because if we become too reliant on others than we lose the ability to create, examine and interpret the world for ourselves.
For example, music. Music never satisfies. It fills like a cup that has lost its bottom. It fills, yes, but then it empties. So we become dependent on new sounds, always new sounds to fancy our ears and bring us to new sensations by the combination of new interval patterns. There’s the potential to feel awakened in the moment. Then hit replay. Feel it again. And again. And again. Until it too becomes old. Search for the new. But by search, I mean find a new artist, a new album, a new style, a new beat - that someone else has created. Let someone else do it.
But. What if the world fell silent? What if we lost all recorded music? What if the only music available to us was the music we could create in the present moment? What melodies would you whistle? Would you create your own? Would you find that music was worth so much to you that you would seek to teach yourself its rules? Go out of your way to find an instrument and excavate its treasures? Or would you move on and forget this gift of music all together?
My concern is this: We leave creativity (of all sorts) to the professionals. If its quality is not of the highest standard, than it simply cannot be tolerated. So we say we can’t create, and pay others to do it instead.
My challenge would be, then, in every area, whether it be music, storytelling, poetry, art, making videos, to learn to break from what’s popular and just. cre. ate. It might suck. But then you’ll know it. And maybe you’ll grow. Or maybe you won’t and that’s OK, too. Other people will still create art available to enjoy. But if you don’t try yourself, you’ll never know what you’re capable of. Just do it.
#nikeforcreativity
#sorryforanytypos
#lunch>proofreading
For example, music. Music never satisfies. It fills like a cup that has lost its bottom. It fills, yes, but then it empties. So we become dependent on new sounds, always new sounds to fancy our ears and bring us to new sensations by the combination of new interval patterns. There’s the potential to feel awakened in the moment. Then hit replay. Feel it again. And again. And again. Until it too becomes old. Search for the new. But by search, I mean find a new artist, a new album, a new style, a new beat - that someone else has created. Let someone else do it.
But. What if the world fell silent? What if we lost all recorded music? What if the only music available to us was the music we could create in the present moment? What melodies would you whistle? Would you create your own? Would you find that music was worth so much to you that you would seek to teach yourself its rules? Go out of your way to find an instrument and excavate its treasures? Or would you move on and forget this gift of music all together?
My concern is this: We leave creativity (of all sorts) to the professionals. If its quality is not of the highest standard, than it simply cannot be tolerated. So we say we can’t create, and pay others to do it instead.
My challenge would be, then, in every area, whether it be music, storytelling, poetry, art, making videos, to learn to break from what’s popular and just. cre. ate. It might suck. But then you’ll know it. And maybe you’ll grow. Or maybe you won’t and that’s OK, too. Other people will still create art available to enjoy. But if you don’t try yourself, you’ll never know what you’re capable of. Just do it.
#nikeforcreativity
#sorryforanytypos
#lunch>proofreading
Thursday, March 12, 2015
Tick Tock
Tick tock
Another winter’s come and gone
Tick tock
Only days left to go
Tick tock
Lift your eyes up -
Lift your eyes up!
Tick tock
The time is now to trust in God
Tick tock
Your weak hands can be made strong
Tick tock
For forgiveness is already yours
Wait for the good name of the Lord
Written by Stephanie Sophia
March 12, 2015
Monday, February 16, 2015
Three Couplets
Three couplets I wrote today (February 16, 2015):
One:
In solving a riddle, this you may find:
How to be still, should you be so inclined.
Two:
A pictured beauty forever unknown.
For out of the window, I shall not be thrown.
Three:
Your word given as a sure token, yes.
But I could not foresee the brokenness.
Edit:
Here's two more. The last one's dedicated to my quadmates, though I haven't had the chance to use it yet:
I am at home with four people today.
I counted myself as the fourth, OK?
Will one or both of you go for a walk?
I promise this time there won't be a fox.
Stephanie Sophia
One:
In solving a riddle, this you may find:
How to be still, should you be so inclined.
Two:
A pictured beauty forever unknown.
For out of the window, I shall not be thrown.
Three:
Your word given as a sure token, yes.
But I could not foresee the brokenness.
Edit:
Here's two more. The last one's dedicated to my quadmates, though I haven't had the chance to use it yet:
I am at home with four people today.
I counted myself as the fourth, OK?
Will one or both of you go for a walk?
I promise this time there won't be a fox.
Stephanie Sophia
Monday, February 9, 2015
I am the Sea // Un Jeu du Patience
I write to keep a distance,
If I write in poetry.
But I recognize that I am
the only one with my exact story,
with my exact struggles,
with my exact eyes.
It may be the only one
I know enough to write.
So rather than taking my pen to escape,
I think I’ll use it to paint.
According to some physical law,
the more space, the less time;
the more time, the less space;
and time is relative.
I am relatively content that
My time in this space
Comes to its close.
People have been my puzzle;
Myself a piece and a puzzle within -
I prefer the French term: Casse-tête.
But unlike a hobby,
I can’t break for a week,
or even a day.
The best I can do is just get by myself.
I tell myself I will be content.
“I commit myself to contentment.”
But it’s a most difficult commitment,
When my cortisol rises.
“I will not run;
I will not rage.”
Still -
still,
still,
still...
It gets restless in here.
What do you expect of me?
I would hope for you to find refreshment here,
Rather than a murky March mess.
Oh, what do you see in me?
Am I a prism?
Or a plain glass pane?
I hope you see me -
But if you don’t, I will show you.
A dance between guilt and gospel,
A dance between together and solitude,
Between today and tomorrow,
Between fullness and brokenness,
Between discontent and self-control,
Between song and quiet,
Between together and near insanity.
Between you and me -
I love you.
And I hope you can accept that I am the sea.
For you are my peace.
Written by Stephanie Sophia
February 9, 2015
If I write in poetry.
But I recognize that I am
the only one with my exact story,
with my exact struggles,
with my exact eyes.
It may be the only one
I know enough to write.
So rather than taking my pen to escape,
I think I’ll use it to paint.
According to some physical law,
the more space, the less time;
the more time, the less space;
and time is relative.
I am relatively content that
My time in this space
Comes to its close.
People have been my puzzle;
Myself a piece and a puzzle within -
I prefer the French term: Casse-tête.
But unlike a hobby,
I can’t break for a week,
or even a day.
The best I can do is just get by myself.
I tell myself I will be content.
“I commit myself to contentment.”
But it’s a most difficult commitment,
When my cortisol rises.
“I will not run;
I will not rage.”
Still -
still,
still,
still...
It gets restless in here.
What do you expect of me?
I would hope for you to find refreshment here,
Rather than a murky March mess.
Oh, what do you see in me?
Am I a prism?
Or a plain glass pane?
I hope you see me -
But if you don’t, I will show you.
A dance between guilt and gospel,
A dance between together and solitude,
Between today and tomorrow,
Between fullness and brokenness,
Between discontent and self-control,
Between song and quiet,
Between together and near insanity.
Between you and me -
I love you.
And I hope you can accept that I am the sea.
For you are my peace.
Written by Stephanie Sophia
February 9, 2015
Sunday, January 25, 2015
Reflections on Mission Blue
How many cans of tuna do they have to sell?
How many fish do they have to catch?
Does the ocean die we eat -
And will we bear the consequences?
Just take a look, now. Take a look, now.
Do the ethics get swept over
In the frenzy of our busy lives?
These fish cost less than a dollar,
And yet they come from Thailand.
How do we do it? How do we do it?
Will we steward what we’ve been given?
The earth is a gift given of the Lord,
The ocean also is ours to guard.
Will we treasure the beauty of it all?
Will we do it? Will we do it?
Written by Stephanie Sophia
January 25, 2015
How many fish do they have to catch?
Does the ocean die we eat -
And will we bear the consequences?
Just take a look, now. Take a look, now.
Do the ethics get swept over
In the frenzy of our busy lives?
These fish cost less than a dollar,
And yet they come from Thailand.
How do we do it? How do we do it?
Will we steward what we’ve been given?
The earth is a gift given of the Lord,
The ocean also is ours to guard.
Will we treasure the beauty of it all?
Will we do it? Will we do it?
Written by Stephanie Sophia
January 25, 2015
Friday, January 16, 2015
Blue Canopy - January 16, 2015
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I am afraid of graduating.
I am afraid to leave Caronport; I am afraid to leave Moose Jaw.
I am afraid to be close with others.
I am afraid to move to a place and join a team that’s not transient.
I am afraid of commitment.
I am afraid of being known.
I want to be known.
I am afraid of not being known.
I am afraid to love Nancy.
I am afraid to say good-bye.
What am I so afraid of?
I am afraid to be vulnerable.
Why am I afraid to let my guard down?
Why do I need to be so busy?
Why do I feel that every hour needs to be filled with something deep and uber meaningful?
Why can’t I be satisfied?
Am I afraid to be bored?
I would like to be bored. I would like to bored and do nothing.
I would like to have someone to be bored and do nothing with.
I don’t want to discuss philosophy, the Bible, or theology.
I just want to rest.
I don’t want the pressure of having to be good.
I don’t want the pressure of having to be smart.
I don’t want the pressure of having to feel like I have it all together, everything figured out.
I do feel like a lot of things are really lining up, though.
And while I don’t see that changing any time soon, if everyone can look at me and think that I have it all together - not that I do, but sometimes I feel like I might even be able to convince myself - even if the whole world sees me one way, I hope that I can have a friend that I can be bored with.
And in that moment of being bored, I want to let the guards down.
My guards. Not anybody else’s. My guards.
I want to know that it’s OK to be a mess,
by having someone else affirm it for me.
I want to be with someone with whom I can be and just be.
I guess that’s it.
I guess that’s the kind of friend I hope for in Nancy.
I don’t think that’s fair to either of us.
I don’t want to care to impress anyone any more.
I just don’t know how to change that.
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