GoStats.com | Visitors

I'm going to write a blog post tomorrow. I think.

nelliegirl's Xanga Site

The proberbial bug has bit. I'm back to writing. And I'm doing it on Linux minus my internet connection so I don't get distracted. I'm passionate about the story, but a good email has a very bad effect on my work ethic.

This story is so unlike anything I've ever done before that I'm not sure what to make of it. I'm a little scared of it. But Madeleine L'Engle's words keep coming back to me...be a servant of the work. A servant...a servant...a servant...that means fighting fear, defeating resistance and writing what is meant to be written, even when all I want to do is go do something mundane and meaningless.

In other news, today was officially day one of spring break. In seven days, I go back again.

I comfort myself with the vague notion that there is only one more quarter left in the school year and after that...summer stretches out before me in all its vastness and glory.

Heh. Getting overdramatic, aren't we? Told you I had the bug.

By the way, Madeleine L'Engle's book 'Walking on Water' is one of the best I have ever read. It's...beyond amazing. Read it. Especially if you're an artist, a writer, a lover of beauty.

I Am Not A Tourist: Nellie's Blog

A boy I know from school shot and killed his girlfriend on Sunday. The flags were at half-mast, and there were grief counselors here at the school all day. It was on the front page of the paper.

I couldn't concentrate in Communications class. I kept staring at his empty seat.



It's been a strange Valentine's Day.

I Am Not A Tourist: Nellie's Blog

My kingdom for an Episcopal/Anglican church in the near vicinity that hasn't been closed due to a lack of membership. And one with a decent organ player. St. Paul's Cathedral, transported to my home turf, would be lovely. But one can't have everything.

I'm listening to a movement from a Bach cantata right now. It's sending chills down my spine. I haven't able to stomach any CCM recently, and I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever reacquire my taste for it. God is so huge, and so much of the music being put out today...is so pale and colorless. It's on such a human level -- it's understandable. When I listen to it, I can fathom it. It is joyous, but not majestic. It is glorifying, but not glorious.

On the other hand, listening to a choral setting by Palestrina, a Bach mass, or Mozart's Requiem gives one a sense of the unfathomable. There is a mystery and beauty in the tiered chords, musical forms, and the sonority of the human voice. Something about these pieces is beyond my understanding.

And for me, it's the hint of the unknowable that makes the known life worth bearing.

Ugh.

Well, I guess I get to blow the dust off of this blog right now and say that I have absolutely nothing to say.

Actually, I have a lot, but little of it is worth saying.

I'm actually supposed to be writing a five to ten minute single-actress play that I must rehearse and be ready to perform for the class on Monday. Other things I could be doing include preparing the Offertory for Sunday, finishing up Math homework, or reading three back-chapters of my Communications text.

But I'm not doing any of that -- I'm writing in my blog. Funny how that works.

How are y'all doing?