Sir Kalen

Walt is exerting a bad influence on me...

I got my first speeding ticket today, and the irony is... I was driving my Volkswagen, Og.

35mph in a school zone, sped up from 20, to try and make it through the yellow light. Mr Cop on Motorcycle didn't appreciate my antics... ouch.

Bad Walt, Bad! No cookie for you...

I have a new Job! :-D

X more days. Then I shall be blessed to have lived a full score. It is not that I am afraid of death, it is not cowardice that stays my hand from taking death's palm, to follow his dark and mysterious path. It is not fear that clings me to the cloak of life, shedding it not, for the voluptions robes wrought by death. It is a thing of preference and appreciation that binds me to this life. Personal whim, taste and choice. These things bre me to life.

Life and Death, both are master builders, geniuses, brilliant artist. Performing their work, weaving a mesmorizing dance with the beauty of fate. Creating a dazzling work, adorned with beauty and mystic. I fear not either master artist, it is that I choose to view, gaze, and appreciate the work of life. For I have much to live for. Life continues to spin its master weave, and fate will prance about delighting in the garment of Life shall giver her. LIfe will not be interrupted, it must finish its work before death takes it up and adorns it. Once Life's work is done, it is unveiled, and fate claps her hands in glee.

Life Paints with vivacity and brilliance. Relishing in variety, diversity, and fragility. Fate dons such a garment, then bows to death, taking his hand. Not in clamor or fear. Fate's complexion is not pallid, but it flushes with vigor, tensity, and eager apprehension. Death takes fate's hand and leads her in a tango. A powerful moving dance, bluring, streaming, and re-mixing the work of life.

While life creates a work of vivacity and brilliance, of diversity and abudance, strain of fragility, A beautiful fragility is integreated in her work, A strain of the delicate. Death however, reworks and enamels the fabric of life witha chorus of the overpowering inevitable, as we succomb to life, so we all succomb to death. The inevitables.

However, the dazzling work of life blinds us, we lose sight of the work of death. We are raptured with the brilliance of Life, and scorn the work of death. Life without death? Oh we could dream... But fate weeps, that she will not be completed. That no one will be left to escort her to the throne of the creator. Death removes the fragility of life, with a strong driving rythym, Performing his work upon fate. Elaborating the dress of life, to present the beauty of fate before the appreciation of the creator. Fate brings with the the work of life, elaborated and enambled by the passage of death.

Rush not these two miracle workers, I do not wish to see the hypnotizing dance of fate spoiled by haste. Therefore I walk in the shadow of life. When her work is done I will take death's hand and see his wonders. Fate will then again, resume her mesmorizing cyle.

A New Year, New Resolutions. Well not quite. But new thoughts. Disgruntling thoughts. Thoughts and musings that do not reflect and reenforce what we know and believe. These are thoughts that question, thoughts that ask for clarity, confirmation, and tangibility. Thoughts that meaningfully come and step inside us, gently querying our belief. Interrogations of curiosity. I welcome these thoughts. Thoughts of these kind, but firm behavior are welcome and shown hospitality. Should they insist on staying, and taking up residence however, They are vigorously run though a mill, a sieve, a filter, a gauntlet! Most wind up rejected. 2 such thoughts are running through such a process at this time. One is of God, the other of balance. The first, we have titled

Of His Deity
There is only one God. This is not just a belief of mine. It is a fact, universal and irreversible. If you ask me to prove this, it is no easy manner. But I will. When your body is dead in the grave, any question of His existence is eradicated. That is my Proof. You will see him. This I know. Faith beyond facts. Of a conviction to absolute certainty. You cannot shake this belief. I do not ask you to take up this belief. There is no need for me to ask this. You will share my believe eventually and automatically. Nothing will need to be done in my part. When you die, I wish you a happy first impression, and pray it is not a rude awakening.

Now of this Deity. His nature. We must call it that. We cannot humanize it, trash it, slander it, or blaspheme it by calling it his personality. It is called his Nature, for he calls it that. He is God, question him not, obey him, you will. I like to amuse myself and think that he choose to use the word nature, as we use the word nature to describe his creation. Nature, it is all around us, it is in everything, it is everything in this earth. It is the mystical, the powerful, the scientific. It is the logical explanation for everything that is seemingly irrational and incomprehensible. God has clearly explained that his image and portrayal can be found in his creation. His Nature revealed in nature. See?

This nature I have found to be Omniscience, Powerful, Just, Noble, Transcendent, beyond Imagination, Grandeur To the sky, Earth shattering, Whimful, and.... Oh I wish my morals would permit me the use of expletives to try and convey, or capture a small essence of his nature. He created The stars, that you see in the sky in the deep and black night. Those stars that boast of their millions of miles across their diameter. Each of those stars command their own solar systems, and each of those stars belong in 1 galaxy. A meager galaxy among billions. Each galaxy pridefully claims billions of stars. All this separated by trillions of miles. HE FREAKIN CREATED THOSE!!! out of nothing, And down to the very smallest particle that they are composed of. Its His celestial radio, and he knows each one by name. Out of nothing... Nothing. Can you comprehend it? Not even darkness, not even light. Not even air, not even a vacuum. It was just him. He was and is everything. It still is him. We are part of him. Part of his imagination. He created everything. Even Time, even the intangibles. We, and what we see, feel and experience is the by-product of his whim.

He is GOD! What more can I add? Nothing! I cannot I will not! He is eternal! He is! Why else would he "I AM" It is a total sum! It is everything!!! Why cannot people see this? Why do the shout, curse and rail profanities against him? Decrying his existence, defaming his nature. Questioning his commands? Why is this question so oft shouted at the sky? "How can you be so unfair? So unkind? So Unloving?"

And I want to Slap them for him. For it is slap in his face. WE ARE THE CREATED, he is the creator. Why must you ask? He is God, It is whim, it will be our reality. obey it, you deserve it. We all deserve it. Why he gave us souls, and "wills" I will never know. The world has done nothing but curse him for it. We Rebelled against him! Before our creation his decree was, that the consequence of rebellion was death! But he loved us, Love enough to suspend and appeal such a sentence, that he bound himself to, And give us another chance. To offer us, not a pardon, but a means of paying the debt without the price of our death. LOVE! You failing, shallow minded, despicable, miserable, contemptible, lurid and loatheful creatures, LOVE is what keeps you alive this day, and every day past of your life. Simply because your greed has blinded you, and you have cursed God for it... Does that mean your whim is divine?!? There is only 1 whim that is divine, and believe me, it is not yours, and nor will it ever be. Get down on your knees, beg, cry out, and thank God, for where and what you are today. You owe him that.

It is because I believe in who he is, I also believe that he has orchestrated everything, predestined the universes, and we live in it like clockwork. It is a beauty. Not a dirge as some see it. Their humanity lies to themselves, believing we are robots, that in futility we rage against this machine. That we are cursed by destiny, locked in a dungeon of paths. Oh no no no, my reader... We cannot deny this life. This life, Is so full of life itself. Teeming with virility, animation, fervor, spirit, and emotion. There is a clear and present action in our minds. Decisive and distinct choices that are made with our mind. With clarity the scriptures show that we will be held responsible for such choices, and their coinciding actions. That we will reap the consequences, pleasant and unpleasant. God has orchestrated all this. There is the beauty and pleasantries of faith to live by. Knowing that God has decreed from time, every act of everything. That We are living in it, and our interaction with it gives us the sensation that we must make and use choices, And we do! Oh the dazzling beauty of the creator! The wonder in his creation! It is a fascinating machinery to stop and behold, to wonder and query over. To deny that, is to deny his creation, his title and status as Creator. To raise us to that level, that we have created something. We have created consequences for choices and actions. God now, is merely a director, meting out those consequences. He has “looked down through time” and has beheld how everything has lined up together to "work together for good."?!? My friend, nothing is more devastating! To believe that God is a circumstantial director in our lives? Despairing! I have written of this already, should you seek more answers I shall provide. But I repeat myself, I have written of this matter already, I shall not be redundant and long-winded here, I am already in danger of that.

I hope that it has slowly become somewhat evident Who, I think God is. And what I’ve seen of his nature. The issue and question that is with me at hand... is have I missed something equally as vital and evident? Have I shallowed and weakened his love? His passions? His Gentleness, meekness, patience... That such virtues go beyond the “evidence” I see? Evident that we stand alive and read this. Evident we awake breathing, living. Have I missed this? That his Love, seeks to give us more than just a life of routine, and oft mundane? That Part of his nature seeks to give us something new! A blessing! Nay, Blessings!!! Richness, fullness, Virility, Strength, passions, emotions! Perhaps I have missed the laterality of "eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, the Lord God hath in store..." I cannot sum it, nor sound it, Slowly this thought morphs from being tangible, to concrete in my mind...

It was almost this, God, my personal relationship with him was akin to that of Martin Luther, Before his "revival." A stern cold God, Who mandated everything, down to the iota and minuscule. I rejected the those who constantly blabbed about a sweet, kind, loving, adorable God who loved us, and wanted the best for us. For they appear, and oft are disillusioned. I suspect they have oft forgotten who He really is. His hand of might, wielding a sword of justice. Meting out the death we deserve. The love that the afore mentioned, "enlightened Hippies" talked about, merely was the staying hand, against the sword of justice, giving us 1 more day of life. We owe God our obedience. So much so, that it shouldn’t be something he commands us. It should be something we do arbitrarily, and automated.

But no... it isn’t ever seen that way is it? But that never deterred me. Majority means nothing to me. It does not establish moral right or wrong. It merely functions as problematic whim and Form of government.

But this thought plagues me... Balance, that is the subject of my other thought. But it has its small area in this one. Balance! Have I missed that? Have I got 1 portion of his nature, and missed the other one? Is my Cold stern, powerful God, whose love is merely the allowance of our lives, as equal a blasphemy as is those who babble about a sweet, kind, loving, adorable, cosmic fat jolly old man, who merely has a list of naughty and nice for justice? Even now I cannot refrain from adding this, that such is a stench in my nostrils. It pains me on the sideline, and I wish to thunder from a point of proclamation. YE Sinners in the hands of an Angry GOD! know ye not what ye are doing? Such a debauchery of his nature! I want to be his sword of justice to those folks....

Yet have I missed something? I have missed blessings? Have I missed love? Such a deep deep love that offers salvation? Not just as a gift of life, eternally given and from the cross, But a deep and interpersonal relationship with him hear on this earth? Yes I have always defined salvation as a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. But I went on to sub-define a personal relationship, and find it in a life of automated obedience. Of Task-master to slave. Yet that is what we are aren’t we? He is the creator, We the created! What am I missing? My rationale seeks to answer, "nothing" But there is something beyond my rationale that defies such an answer. It is that thought that persistently seeks my hospitality. Wishing to quest through my gauntlet, desiring to take up a permanent residence.

What is it then? This love of God that mystically will not let me grasp it. I cannot cheaply sum it into the word Agape. There is more to it. Agape is a love, not a life. I feel what I seek is a Love-life. The thought in my mind seeks to join love and life, and intertwine them. Weave them together and declare them inseparable. Can it be done? I’ve Hear of a love of obedience, to the point of automated, but have you not defeated your purpose then? Love is not automated, it is spontaneous, full of animation, as the flame, and heat of the coals. I cannot see or perceive the difference or effect that this "new love" can establish, outside of the "Old love" I believe that God already employs. That in the end, the difference is non-existent, or at best, imperceptible. Is it?

The question remains, have I missed something? Am I missing something? A balance? Of loves?

It jokingly said, that there are 2 inevitables in the life we face on earth. Death and Taxes.

It is a cruel and acerbic joke to play, and I taste it on my tongue. I smell it in the air, and it burns us.

My grandmother is dying of liver cancer. For those who are not familiar with it. It is an end case. There is not recovery from it. especially not in her case. Several years ago, she had her valve in her heart replaced. It bought her some time. but her health was never the same...

I do not find it ideal to try and blow things out of proportion. and attempt to expand the circumstances, to convolute and construct a story of self-pity, and prigmatic sorrow.

But ever since the age of 14, I have felt that my family was somehow uniquely different, special, and not akin to anything other in this world. I now attempt to supress the wracking sobs that now pour from my depths, dissillusioned that as I pour out my story, that somehow, it will suave the pain. But it only feeds the flame and burn called sorrow...

My Father grew up in New York, in a remote city near edmuston. On a farm, a Dairy farm. Consequently, he, his 2 brothers worked very hard with my grandparents, and they are very close. My dad studied to be a doctor(married my mom), moved to florida, because they had the best residency program at the time. A few years later The warm climate of Florida helped him convince my grandparents to sell the farm and move to florida. My Parents moved out of the first house they had lived for the first few years, and "rented" to my grandparents. That was over 30 years ago. We have not moved since, nor have my grandparents.

She is a 2nd Mother to me. And I swear, an angel. A kinder, more compassionate, more loving, tender, devote, passionate,.... OH god I cannot continue. Married to one man, for over 50 years, my grandfather. Who still wakes at 3am in the morning to work, and checks off the clock at 12:00 noon, sharp. Is home by 1:00pm, to spend the afternoon, the the wife of his once youth, still the love and flame of his life.

It is not uncommon for them to cover over in their little travel trailer, and spend the weekend at our house, even though, their real house is less than 20min away. I have spent every thanksgiving, and christmas, in my 20 years of life with them, and my family. My grandparents have been apart of my life since my conception. I cannot imagine my Grandfather without Grandma by his side, or the converse. Even now, as We build a addition to our house, for when age completely settles in, and they require care they cannot give themselves, My grandfather is out there, With this son, and his 20, 16, and 13 year old Grandsons. Building a house. OH its a robbery of the worst, To plan, build, to spend energy, hoping to trade it all for the precious last days, only to have that opportunity stolen in the dark and black night.

To know that she might not make it to my 20th birthday, on the 28th of this month, TO sleep with the realization, that probability of her living to see My sister's wedding, To see a precious Granddaughter, who they watched grow up, meet the man of her dreams, As she met the man of her dreams over 50 years ago...

There is consolation, in that I know for sure, as does anyone who knows her, That Christ Is her personal Savior. And that she faithfully upkeeps a close and personal relationship with him. I know that every morning She rises, and Prays personally, for everyone in our family. For each of her grandchilden. And that in the evening, She and grandpa, before they slept, would gather and pray a special prayer for my family. I know this, I have been told it, I have seen and heard it. I keep hearing the strains of "Faith of our fathers/mothers" And know that I am in debt to them...

This Dearest Grandma, Is for You. The angel who walked among us. who bore our hurts with yes when we were young. Who kissed our bruises when we were small. Who dreamed with us in our youth. Who shared our inspiration and told us to work for our dreams. This Grandma, Is my sorrow. A loss of the times we could have shared, Not a regret of what we left undone, or dispair over things we couldn't undo. This Is sorrow, that the hearts, souls, memories and emotions we have shared, now reach an end and close.

That Now, when I walk in your kitchen, no longer can I look upon your cabinets and see them the same. For now they are just decorated with pictures of your grandchildren. Their sunday school projects. Their homework displayed by the proudest Grandmother. Dreams in the hearts of child, come to fruition on the cuboards of precious Grandmothers. I cannot look at those cuboards the same. For without you, they are merely pictures. Merely empy clones. Empty frames, having lost resosance of you. Having lost the life that you breathed into them, You now, as all of us must one day do, Move on from this life. I mourn and weep, that now My grandfather, who I gladly spent evenings, and hours after work, helping him with some project, Must come home now, and face those same cupboards without you.

20 years, I can say we made the best of them. But I weep that they must close. I weep, that death becomes personal. That when the grim reaper touches someone close to me, He has chosen you, the angel among us.

Merry Christmas everyone!

And the happiest of New Years also...

Walt, There are Much more flattering pictures then what you posted... And I shall ruin the guessing game by posting these...

No, she isn't married, just modeling a wedding dress.

Pictures are worth a thousand words, the portray and ideal, they capture the moment, they transpose the thoughts and ideals of the photographer, they are a medium through which time has no effect on. Pictures, they speak from the past, they treasure the present, and defy the future.

I find a small irony in captioning pictures. To effectly sum and contain those thousand words in a precious selected few. Some are better at this skill than others. I have made an attempt. I leave you to the same.

yes some of you may have seen the pictures before, some have not. I didn't see anything in Walt's contract I signed before I joined that mandated originalitiy and or creativity

P.S. Some skins are nicer on the photos than other skins. Should the majority rule, the pictures shall be converted to links instead.