Friends, I'm not sure why I wrote this, it was a part of the bible that really touched me. Alot of this is obviously creative license, the dialogue between characters, back ground stories etc is mostly my imagination.
I guess when I look at some of the details of my own life i found that I could relate to the release this woman found when she found grace. i decided not to go into to much detail about Jesus, I even stayed away from naming him, I'm not sure why, I just didnt feel like I should have.
Oh and just quickly, the word used here; "Hetaerae" is the greek word that was commonly used throughout the mediteranean for Prostitute. again it is only asumption to say that the "alabaster box woman" was actually a prostitute, and even though it is a popular opinion the word simply says she was a "woman caught in sin".
enjoy bellas.
x
************************************
But what could she offer him? She had nothing, she stood outside of the house where the son of man was dining. Unlike the other gatherings usually hosted at this house this one was seemingly quiet, still, relaxed with just small hint of fear, something was in the air, something so pungent, and yet so distant. The hetaerae could not place it.
Her hands on her hips the hetaerae sighed and felt defeated, her many bangles clattering against each other she looked up to the night sky in frustration. If only this man had been like other men, if only she hated him with a blazing passion like she did the many men who frequented her house.
The difficulties in seeing this man seemed to mount one upon the other, she could not invite him into the house where she lived, her place of business, she did not want to shame him in the streets by walking up to him in front of the many watchful citizens of Bethany. Instead she followed him at a distance to the house of the man known as Simon the leper
She’d followed him all afternoon, her make up had melted in the heat, the dark kohl she’d worn around her eyes had begun to fade with perspiration and the henna on her lips had become a faint pink. The perfume jar all Hetaerae wore around their necks had bled its scent like a tap in the heat of the afternoon sun and now that night had settled the heady aroma had diminished and left behind a lingering vapour of juniper.
She clutched the vial of perfume as she worried, a habit she had developed over the years. She’d traipsed behind him and his followers since midday, stopping in the shadows of an arch a street away, watching from behind a corner where she could not be spotted. At one point she had even walked along the roof tops, keeping her eye keenly fixed on the tall, dark featured man in white bellow her on the street, the only evidence of her presence was the silhouette of her figure cast haphazardly onto the market stall roofs and shade cloths.
All of this it seemed had been for nothing, she had stupidly decided to seek him out and yet had not thought to bring him any gifts, again she handled the vial of perfume around her neck, clasping its little alabaster frame in her fingers. She usually wore the vial under her shift, where it could not be seen. The little vial was a symbol of what she was, a beacon to all around her, it was a tool of her trade, it was so each man that visited her could smell nothing of the man that had been there sometimes moments before. It said simply to all who saw her, that she was a prostitute, she was hetaerae.
Two men passed her on the street and spotted the perfume jar around her neck, they saw her many bangles and layers of neck laces made from semi precious stones, the saw the ear rings of lapis lazuli and the diadem of carnelian worn on her head. One of the men regarded her with a somewhat curious disgust, muttering a curse in Greek to his friend as they passed her, the other man nodded obediently agreeing with the other mans outrage, yet he said nothing, he saw her, she saw him, he was a customer.
Self consciously she pulled her veil around her. What was she to do? Stepping into the enclosed privacy of an alley she leaned against the wall,
“how can I go before the son of man as I am, these common folk scorn me, even those who have known me, I have no right”
Yet something pulled at her heart, pulled in the direction of the house. she’d often been described as brazen, yet this was not the same, this feeling was courage. She knew what she must do, she slipped off the diadem, unclasped the lavish necklaces and removed the bangles from her wrists. Just as she went to discard the alabaster jar she stopped and looked down at the small innocent container. She would anoint him, surely his feet would be washed after such a long humid day, she would anoint his feet with the perfume, but she would only use a little bit, she still had to get back to work later that night.
Holding the jar in her hand she strode around the corner and walked through the open door of the house.
Walking through the simple and small courtyard she passed a servant carrying a platter of stuffed pheasant, the smell was delicious, yet she kept walking, she could not afford to be thrown out, time taken to stop was time wasted. Walking through an arch way she stepped into the midst of the dining room, she looked around the room at the faces of the men, some were Pharisees, men that she had known, other men she had seen in passing. But there he was, the man she had come to see, the man she had loved from a distance for … only a little while now. She loved him as these few that were around him had loved him. He looked at her, the word escaped her mouth in a whisper “Emmanuel”.
She walked silently around the low table to where he was reclining, as she passed various members she heard mutterings of disgrace on their breath. A woman who was breath takingly beautiful sat towards the corner of the table, she watched her silently, knowingly, she heard one of the men lean towards her and whisper. “Mary..” he had said.
She looked down at his feet, “my lords feet” she thought, and saw they were still dusty. Why hadn’t they been washed when he’d walked in? she knelt down at his feet and realised she had no water, no towel, what would she use?
She had failed him, like her whole life had been a failure, and now she knelt before the king with nothing to offer but the gaudy perfume of a hetaerae. She began to weep and her tears fell on his feet, she knelt and kissed where her tears had fallen, as her tears streamed over her masters feet she dried them with her hair, her long curling raven locks that had been a part of her work for so long, the hair that she had hidden under when she gave herself over, now she pressed it to her lords feet as her tears washed away the dust.
He spoke with one of the other men, his tone was scornful, in a moment of insecurity she looked to him, was he angry with her? But the look in his eyes confirmed that he was not. Taking the vial she went sprinkle a few drops over his feet, remembering that she still had to work later that night and would need the perfume, but she stopped and looked at him, he was gazing at her, his eyes talking to her heart, she looked at him, and then looked at the alabaster vial, the symbol of her life, the beacon of her profession. “never again, you never need to again” a small voice said within her.
As if her hands operated on their own they smashed the alabaster vial on the ground and poured the perfume over his feet. It was broken, smashed in two, it would never hold perfume again. Without a word she stood and swept from the room, through the court yard, out into the street.
Throwing the remains of the alabaster jar onto the ground she gulped in the hot night air, doubling over she wept, she didn’t know what had happened, but something had broken inside of her, broken open like the vial of perfume. She stood up and began to make her way down the street, to where she didn’t know, she couldn’t go back to her house, where a man was most likely waiting.
She sobbed, as she slowly walked down the street. She heard the sound of foot steps behind her and she turned to see who was approaching. The beautiful woman who had been in the dining room hurried towards her and grabbed her hand,
“Sister, my name is Mary”
“Mistress, do not touch me”
“why sister? I have things to tell you”
“please do not touch me, and do not call me sister, for I am not worthy of the title, I am hetaerae, and a well known one here in Bethany, now please for your names sake leave me be….”
The woman stopped as she glanced down at Mary’s out stretched hand, both women wept, for in Mary’s hand was the small shattered remnants of her own alabaster jar.
“You see sister? His love broke mine as well”
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Book Review: Mardi Loves Lipstick, By Marija Munro.
“Mardi Loves Lipstick” is the debut novel of author and illustrator Marija Munro.
Mardi Loves Lipstick follows the adventures of contrary little Mardi, a lipstick loving little girl who will do anything for a new tube of glossy lip stick.
Of course, one is not mistaken in thinking that Mardi is just like any other little girl her age, after all, what little girl (or big girl) for that matter DOESN’T love the right shade of lipstick.
But for Mardi, it’s a bit more than a quest for the right lipstick, it’s a need for EVERY lipstick. Could this obsession go a little too far? Could Mardi’s love of lipstick turn into a cosmetic catastrophe ?
Marija Munro has provided a fresh take on today’s rather stale children’s fiction genre. In an era where abstract art and minimalism rule the world of illustrated fiction Marija Munro has managed to take old fashioned attention to detail, which is seen in the intricate collaged illustrations and then melded this with modernistic designs and colours.
“Mardi Loves Lipstick” is a colourful romp through the eyes of a typical little girl, a world of bright colours, pretty frocks and of course LIPSTICK.
Five stars for this wonderful debut work of this sure to be literary magician.
Purchase websites and possibilities posted soon.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Movie Review: Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont.
"THERE ARE SOME PEOPLE THAT CROSS OUR LIVES, IN TINY FRACTIONS OF TIME, AND YET THEY LEAVE AN ENDURABLE MARK IN OUR HEARTS AND IN OUR MIND".
Recently I had one of my extremely enjoyable coffee and movie nights with my Nanny. We settled in on her couches with our coffee and chocolate and began flicking through the usual movie channels.
As fate would have it we came accross a quaintly charming little film called "Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont" In noteing that I hadnt really heard the title before and the leading role was played by a character actress who hadnt really been in the spotlight before I expected the movie to be an easy watch but nothing particularly special.
In my naivity I was completley wrong. The movie whilst what some more liberal thinkers may refer to as "prude", I felt to be very poignant and heart rending. A genetic throwback to Hollywoods golden days when women were ladies and men were gentlmen. Indeed fans of the 1950's will love this fresh take on a movie based on the 1950's English Novel by Elizabeth Taylor (Not the actress for those of you familiar with the name.)
Mrs. Sarah Palfrey (Joan Plowright, 101 Dalmatians, Tea with Mussolini), an elderly woman by chance (or was it destiny) comes accross the path of a young author Ludovic Mayer (Rupert Friend,Pride and Prejudice,The Libertine). The two unlikely friends find that they have more in common with each other than with people their own age.
In becoming friends it becomes apparent that the two balance each others lives in a "vice versa" sort of manner. Mrs. Palfrey feels as if she is a burden to her family, and despite her genteel and rather fashionable sensibility finds herself abandoned by her fast paced 20th Century living family. Ludovic (who out of fondness becomes known as Ludo to Mrs. Palfrey) relates to Mrs. Palfrey in that he feels his mother is ashamed of him for his somewhat free and easy living lifestyle.
Through the development of the warmly quaint friendship and a chain of un-expected events Ludo ends up posing as Mrs. Palfreys grandson before the other nosey inhabitants of the dowdy retirement hotel "The Claremont". Through this theatrical role play Ludo comes to see Mrs. Palfrey as his adopted grandmother and takes to calling her "Sasa" the nick name Mrs. Palfrey said her real grandson used to call her as a child.
As the movie progresses Ludo is inspired to write about his new friendship with the enchanting widow and through cleverly inserted voice overs we hear fractions of his writing whilst the imagery plays out before us on the screen.
A charming example:
"She danced around her memories with the agile step of a young girl."
The two are an example of Love, how it used to be, how it should be. Though not romantically attached they are connected by love that allows him to see into her sincere memories of yester year and that allows her to be settled in letting her memories go as she see's the same spirit and fire continue in people such as Ludo.
The film is for lovers, for the romantics that long for something a little more than what the Hollywood of today has to offer.
The Novel of the same name is set in the 1950's which at first to some may make the movie seem a little displaced in both dialogue (which seems incredibly old world for all the characters young and old) and subject matter. Which in my opnion is a pity.
Though I would like to imagine that somewhere out there some young man is taking the time out of his day to make an elderly woman feel as if the world hasn't forgotten her. And it makes me glad that in my life I have my own "Sasa" in my beloved Nanny.
You could find many morals to this movie, "you're never to old to make life an adventure", "Love is timeless" etc etc.
What I personally gleened from this film was an appreciation for the living testiments to the past. Memories can be so precious, when my world no longer exists and one day a young man or woman takes time out to hear a greying old man's stories about his time on earth I hope to be able to recount a tale of romance, of love, of little special moments that only I and my wife may have known ever existed. Little places that although may be eternal in physical existence will spiritually be extinguished with my passing of this world, leaving the space hallowed and ready for another pair of lovers memories to fill it.
Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont. Theres one of her in your neighbourhood, over flowing with memories of sweeter times, and theres also one of her in each of us. It's something I look forward too in old age, what impact will my story have?
But for now, I'm happy being someones "Ludo". As stated in the movie, there are some people who cross our lives in tiny fractions of time, and yet they leave an endurable mark in our hearts and in our mind.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
House Of Dereon, "Hip Haute" Culture.
Couture. Kick. Culture.
As most of my friends probably know I am an avid fan of the Multi-talented Entertainer Beyonce Knowles.
It is a common known fact that on top of being a multi Grammy winning singer, a pioneer in the world of "African American" music artists and an Oscar nominated actress Beyonce also has her own fashion label "House of Dereon".
The Line has been known for it's chic and modest fashions, tastefully contemporary whilst maintaining a classic sensibility. Yet a little known fact of the iconic fashion line is its history.
Here is a brief summary of the Labels origins which can also be found on Beyonce's current Online forum at: http://www.beyonceonline.com/au/fashion
"The hip-haute fashion legacy that is known as the House of Deréon was inspired by Tina Knowles' mother, the late Agnéz Deréon, and began in Louisiana over 80 years ago. Agnéz (Soul) was a skilled seamstress and dressmaker who made beautiful custom clothing for private clients throughout the south. A true renaissance woman, Agnéz used her creativity, determination and "can do" spirit to accomplish just about anything she set her mind to. Agnéz's artistic spirit influenced three generations of stylish women and continues to inspire countless others today. Tina Knowles (Couture) is the visionary creative direction, infusing trend-breaking style mixed with pure attitude. Based on her experience as a designer and stylist to the stars, Tina brings excitement, creativity and in-depth knowledge in regard to cut and fit to the line. Beyoncé Knowles (Kick) serves as the muse of the line. Her sense of style is unmatched and her chameleon-like take on fashion is ever changing and flawless. Beyoncé is the new generation of self-expression and confidence an icon in the making. The contemporary women's line features ready-to-wear, sportswear and denim offerings, as well as furs, outerwear, handbags and footwear.The mission of the company is simple: to fuse celebrity power and design artistry into a brand of global importance, a house of aspiration and inspiration, where entertainment and fashion merge seamlessly.
Tina Knowles and daughters Beyoncé and Solange have always drawn on the wonderful details and techniques passed on by Tina's mother, Agnéz Deréon. With Deréon, they've developed a line reflective not only of her Creole influences, but also her daring approach and bold ideas.Beyoncé and Solange have always brought a fresh eye and playful attitude to fashion as they've developed their own individual styles. They are the quintessential Deréon girl
"House of Dereon", whilst momentarlily occupied with providing it's wearers with chic and subtle evening wear couture inspired by Agnez and maintained by Tina the contemporary line is venturing into creating day wear for the American Holiday season in 2009.
The Label incorporates body concious sensitivity with clean lines and a feminine flow enhanced by choice materials such as silk charmuese, chiffon and satin crepe.
For more recent designs visit: http://www.houseofdereon.com/
Much to All. x
T.
As most of my friends probably know I am an avid fan of the Multi-talented Entertainer Beyonce Knowles.
It is a common known fact that on top of being a multi Grammy winning singer, a pioneer in the world of "African American" music artists and an Oscar nominated actress Beyonce also has her own fashion label "House of Dereon".
The Line has been known for it's chic and modest fashions, tastefully contemporary whilst maintaining a classic sensibility. Yet a little known fact of the iconic fashion line is its history.
Here is a brief summary of the Labels origins which can also be found on Beyonce's current Online forum at: http://www.beyonceonline.com/au/fashion
"The hip-haute fashion legacy that is known as the House of Deréon was inspired by Tina Knowles' mother, the late Agnéz Deréon, and began in Louisiana over 80 years ago. Agnéz (Soul) was a skilled seamstress and dressmaker who made beautiful custom clothing for private clients throughout the south. A true renaissance woman, Agnéz used her creativity, determination and "can do" spirit to accomplish just about anything she set her mind to. Agnéz's artistic spirit influenced three generations of stylish women and continues to inspire countless others today. Tina Knowles (Couture) is the visionary creative direction, infusing trend-breaking style mixed with pure attitude. Based on her experience as a designer and stylist to the stars, Tina brings excitement, creativity and in-depth knowledge in regard to cut and fit to the line. Beyoncé Knowles (Kick) serves as the muse of the line. Her sense of style is unmatched and her chameleon-like take on fashion is ever changing and flawless. Beyoncé is the new generation of self-expression and confidence an icon in the making. The contemporary women's line features ready-to-wear, sportswear and denim offerings, as well as furs, outerwear, handbags and footwear.The mission of the company is simple: to fuse celebrity power and design artistry into a brand of global importance, a house of aspiration and inspiration, where entertainment and fashion merge seamlessly.
Tina Knowles and daughters Beyoncé and Solange have always drawn on the wonderful details and techniques passed on by Tina's mother, Agnéz Deréon. With Deréon, they've developed a line reflective not only of her Creole influences, but also her daring approach and bold ideas.Beyoncé and Solange have always brought a fresh eye and playful attitude to fashion as they've developed their own individual styles. They are the quintessential Deréon girl
"House of Dereon", whilst momentarlily occupied with providing it's wearers with chic and subtle evening wear couture inspired by Agnez and maintained by Tina the contemporary line is venturing into creating day wear for the American Holiday season in 2009.
The Label incorporates body concious sensitivity with clean lines and a feminine flow enhanced by choice materials such as silk charmuese, chiffon and satin crepe.
For more recent designs visit: http://www.houseofdereon.com/
Much to All. x
T.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Everybody Knows
Well-
As of this morning one of my best friends has left to attend School of Creative Arts, by Monday another friend shall be off to Uni to study nursing, within the coming weeks yet another friend will be moving to Brisbane to study art. By July I'm sure there will be lots of homes and towns with spaces left by those who have moved onto the more adventurous exciting time in their lives.
And in a few months I myself will be moving to Japan to teach English before returning to Australia to also attend School Of Creative Arts.
We live in these houses with these same people for eighteen years of our lives (some of us a little longer) and then we all move on so easily. We leave behind the daily routines of family house hold living, social norms and the formality's and culture we've come to associate with this place called "Home". In no way do I condemn or judge those who take flight so easily and flutter off to a new world, heaven knows I'm probably one of the biggest ones, I simply make the observation that it seems so easy.
I know the cliche that we'll miss what we once had, but is that really how it works? Will I miss the everyday ins and outs of my Crescent Street residence? The place that I have called "Home" all my life. Or will I simply embrace my new life, new "home"and new friends with only a "here and there", "Every now and then" thought for what I left behind?
For now I seem to miss everything and everyone even though I havn't set foot outside my door yet (metaphorically speaking ofcourse) yet I'm also excited to venture off into the unkown.
Like the rest of my genereation I'll set off on this voyage, to make my own way, each of us wondering "I wonder what that girl is doing with herself now?" "I wonder if that guy is fighting the same struggles as me now". I also can't help but wonder if people have come to realise yet that all that stock they put into their highschool careers, their social standing and their popularity have all been washed away with the tides of change. As they say "you can't take popularity with you". And its now that we'll look back realise what we can take with us...memories, theyre the only thing that can last as long as us, memories of our "ups, downs and....all arounds", of what we've learned from those we've grown with. Memories of the jokes and the sense of humour that only youre friends get. Memories, simply reflections of a lifetime spent training, growing and waiting for this moment, and somewhere in there living life can be found aswell.
As we embark I'm sure in one way or another we'll come home, back to the same port. As easily as we left we'll slip back into the fold of whatever small town or big city we emerged from, stylistically and mentally changed we'll play the returned celebrity, learned and opinionated secretly cherishing the arms of those we've yearned for, for so long now.
Yes, I think I'll miss it, Ill miss my home, and I'm sure I'm not alone in that way of thinking. Even though eventually we do class ourselves as independent, I dont think we ever really are, we operate on what our parents have taught us, and last by savouring the gentle memories of sturdier times.
Vanaka.
As of this morning one of my best friends has left to attend School of Creative Arts, by Monday another friend shall be off to Uni to study nursing, within the coming weeks yet another friend will be moving to Brisbane to study art. By July I'm sure there will be lots of homes and towns with spaces left by those who have moved onto the more adventurous exciting time in their lives.
And in a few months I myself will be moving to Japan to teach English before returning to Australia to also attend School Of Creative Arts.
We live in these houses with these same people for eighteen years of our lives (some of us a little longer) and then we all move on so easily. We leave behind the daily routines of family house hold living, social norms and the formality's and culture we've come to associate with this place called "Home". In no way do I condemn or judge those who take flight so easily and flutter off to a new world, heaven knows I'm probably one of the biggest ones, I simply make the observation that it seems so easy.
I know the cliche that we'll miss what we once had, but is that really how it works? Will I miss the everyday ins and outs of my Crescent Street residence? The place that I have called "Home" all my life. Or will I simply embrace my new life, new "home"and new friends with only a "here and there", "Every now and then" thought for what I left behind?
For now I seem to miss everything and everyone even though I havn't set foot outside my door yet (metaphorically speaking ofcourse) yet I'm also excited to venture off into the unkown.
Like the rest of my genereation I'll set off on this voyage, to make my own way, each of us wondering "I wonder what that girl is doing with herself now?" "I wonder if that guy is fighting the same struggles as me now". I also can't help but wonder if people have come to realise yet that all that stock they put into their highschool careers, their social standing and their popularity have all been washed away with the tides of change. As they say "you can't take popularity with you". And its now that we'll look back realise what we can take with us...memories, theyre the only thing that can last as long as us, memories of our "ups, downs and....all arounds", of what we've learned from those we've grown with. Memories of the jokes and the sense of humour that only youre friends get. Memories, simply reflections of a lifetime spent training, growing and waiting for this moment, and somewhere in there living life can be found aswell.
As we embark I'm sure in one way or another we'll come home, back to the same port. As easily as we left we'll slip back into the fold of whatever small town or big city we emerged from, stylistically and mentally changed we'll play the returned celebrity, learned and opinionated secretly cherishing the arms of those we've yearned for, for so long now.
Yes, I think I'll miss it, Ill miss my home, and I'm sure I'm not alone in that way of thinking. Even though eventually we do class ourselves as independent, I dont think we ever really are, we operate on what our parents have taught us, and last by savouring the gentle memories of sturdier times.
Vanaka.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Facebook ABOUT ME
This is my facebook about me section. I dont know why you would read my blog without first knowing a little bit about who the blogger is.
A short summary of who I am is: I Love my saviour Jesus Christ. My Church. My Family. My Friends. My Music. My Books. My Writing. My Movies. My Coffe's. My Friday Nights. My Hot Summer Days. My Colours. My Drama. My iPod. ----
2008, for me the year of the dreaded HSC was also filled with times spent with my friends and family that compensated for the stressful moments that this final year of school brings. I didnt travel, have any particularly huge or fantastic moments nor did I participate in any out of the ordinary events that I can really set aside as special or different (ofcourse other than my HSC)
Every other year of my life I have done one or more of the above things so that by January the first I could look back and say "wow, now that was a big year." This year instead was spent in a different way. Nothing particularly glamorous or star studded but all the same nurturing and heart warming.
My memories of 2008 are filled with moments spent laughing over roast on a sunday night with my family of friends. Standing before my church with my hands held high in praise and worship. Enjoying the sickening convenience of 24/7 McDonalds stores. Trying to fit as much as me and my friends could into one night which could involve anything from: Movies, Dinners (most likley McDonalds), Driving to the most un-expected and random places in the middle of the night, Star gazeing and talking about our dreams and ambitions, going to the beach to watch storms or heading back to the Brittens to watch one...well maybe two...how about three? movies. Getting Craveings for random foods and bowing to that craveing by driving to the 24/7 BP to get that food also seems to inhabit alot of my memory.
But most of all, my fondest and most cherished memories are sitting on my friends couch cosy and warm, watching a dvd, looking around at the faces of my good friends as we all laugh or sit transfixed to the images on the screen. These little moments over shadow any over seas venture, any performance or any purchase of a much desired object.
I know the above section is probably more suited to a blog or note but I feel it should be in my "About Me" section because this passed year, 2008, has possibly shown me more about who I am than any other. Away from the glamour of a spotlight, the excitment of an air port or the falseness of those moments when we know weve molded ourselves to suit the crowd were in. Away from all of that, surrounded by those we love, it is there we will find ourselves and who we really are.
Tysons the name.
Saucy's the game.
I hope you enjoyed, feel free to add me on Facebook if you dont already have me. x
Vanaka.
A short summary of who I am is: I Love my saviour Jesus Christ. My Church. My Family. My Friends. My Music. My Books. My Writing. My Movies. My Coffe's. My Friday Nights. My Hot Summer Days. My Colours. My Drama. My iPod. ----
2008, for me the year of the dreaded HSC was also filled with times spent with my friends and family that compensated for the stressful moments that this final year of school brings. I didnt travel, have any particularly huge or fantastic moments nor did I participate in any out of the ordinary events that I can really set aside as special or different (ofcourse other than my HSC)
Every other year of my life I have done one or more of the above things so that by January the first I could look back and say "wow, now that was a big year." This year instead was spent in a different way. Nothing particularly glamorous or star studded but all the same nurturing and heart warming.
My memories of 2008 are filled with moments spent laughing over roast on a sunday night with my family of friends. Standing before my church with my hands held high in praise and worship. Enjoying the sickening convenience of 24/7 McDonalds stores. Trying to fit as much as me and my friends could into one night which could involve anything from: Movies, Dinners (most likley McDonalds), Driving to the most un-expected and random places in the middle of the night, Star gazeing and talking about our dreams and ambitions, going to the beach to watch storms or heading back to the Brittens to watch one...well maybe two...how about three? movies. Getting Craveings for random foods and bowing to that craveing by driving to the 24/7 BP to get that food also seems to inhabit alot of my memory.
But most of all, my fondest and most cherished memories are sitting on my friends couch cosy and warm, watching a dvd, looking around at the faces of my good friends as we all laugh or sit transfixed to the images on the screen. These little moments over shadow any over seas venture, any performance or any purchase of a much desired object.
I know the above section is probably more suited to a blog or note but I feel it should be in my "About Me" section because this passed year, 2008, has possibly shown me more about who I am than any other. Away from the glamour of a spotlight, the excitment of an air port or the falseness of those moments when we know weve molded ourselves to suit the crowd were in. Away from all of that, surrounded by those we love, it is there we will find ourselves and who we really are.
Tysons the name.
Saucy's the game.
I hope you enjoyed, feel free to add me on Facebook if you dont already have me. x
Vanaka.
His Eye Is On The Sparrow.
Well,
This is my first Blog on this website, I do have other posts on my Myspace, but seeming as I am using Myspace less and less these days I decided to utilise this website.
-About the name-
I decided to name my blog "Sparrow" after my favourite hymn "His Eye Is On The Sparrow". I first heard this hymn on the now classic film "Sister Act 2" whilst the film may hold little interest to those of you who appreciate more artistic, stylistic films there is one moment in this film that will stay with me forever. The scene where Lauryn Hill and Tanya Blount are sitting at the piano practising their song for church, which just happens to be "His Eye Is On The Sparrow". Their rendition of this song has become very famous since and is acredited for properly show casing for the first time Lauryn Hill's vocal ability, who had previously favoured reggae, rap type of music.
-ANYWHOO-
This hymn means so much to me, the lyrics "His eye is on the sparrow, so I know he watches me" can't help but resonate in my soul. The Lord feels sorrow for every sparrow that falls, so imagine how his heart breaks when I expreience pain. To know the creator of all things cares for me with such delicate detail is refeshing, empowering and inspring.
-SO...-
A blog is meant to be about youre daily experiences....really, the blogger can put what ever they like in their articles, so thats what I've done. My heart is for Jesus, I am his Sparrow, and I know he watches me. Basically thats why I've decided to name my blog "Sparrow".
Vanaka (Thankyou)
This is my first Blog on this website, I do have other posts on my Myspace, but seeming as I am using Myspace less and less these days I decided to utilise this website.
-About the name-
I decided to name my blog "Sparrow" after my favourite hymn "His Eye Is On The Sparrow". I first heard this hymn on the now classic film "Sister Act 2" whilst the film may hold little interest to those of you who appreciate more artistic, stylistic films there is one moment in this film that will stay with me forever. The scene where Lauryn Hill and Tanya Blount are sitting at the piano practising their song for church, which just happens to be "His Eye Is On The Sparrow". Their rendition of this song has become very famous since and is acredited for properly show casing for the first time Lauryn Hill's vocal ability, who had previously favoured reggae, rap type of music.
-ANYWHOO-
This hymn means so much to me, the lyrics "His eye is on the sparrow, so I know he watches me" can't help but resonate in my soul. The Lord feels sorrow for every sparrow that falls, so imagine how his heart breaks when I expreience pain. To know the creator of all things cares for me with such delicate detail is refeshing, empowering and inspring.
-SO...-
A blog is meant to be about youre daily experiences....really, the blogger can put what ever they like in their articles, so thats what I've done. My heart is for Jesus, I am his Sparrow, and I know he watches me. Basically thats why I've decided to name my blog "Sparrow".
Vanaka (Thankyou)
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