Summer was gone and the heat died down
And autumn reached for her golden crown
I looked behind as I heard a sigh
But this was the time of no reply.
The sun went down and the crowd went home
I was left by the roadside all alone
I turned to speak as they went by
But this was the time of no reply.
The time of no reply is calling me to stay
There is no hello and no goodbye
To leave there is no way.
The trees on the hill had nothing to say
They would keep their dreams till another day
So they stood and thought and wondered why
For this was the time of no reply.
Time goes by from year to year
And no one asks why I am standing here
But I have my answer as I look to the sky
This is the time of no reply.
The time of no reply is calling me to stay
There`s no hello and no goodbye
To leave there is no way.
"Time of No Reply"
Nick Drake
Monday, October 27, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
It's Gloriously Rainy
I love bad weather.
Today there was a huge downpour in between my French and philosophy classes. As a matter of course, I forgot my umbrella. I wasn't alone though, and we forgetful ones performed the awkward dance entitled, "Get to class on time in the pouring rain whilst not slipping on brick sidewalks or marble steps." Everyone in philosophy was completely soaked including me.
I loved it.
I went to Davis to study today. Looking out of the window, you could see trees stretching for miles dotted with a few steeples from churches in Chapel Hill. The clouds seemed to reach down to earth in graceful wisps, blanketing the treetops and spires with a peaceful coolness. The greens and grays seemed to meld and mix into one color, ever changing at the whims of the wind.
I'm very ADD when doing calculus homework.
--
Carolina is awesome and the hot chocolate in the Union is the best in the world.
Today there was a huge downpour in between my French and philosophy classes. As a matter of course, I forgot my umbrella. I wasn't alone though, and we forgetful ones performed the awkward dance entitled, "Get to class on time in the pouring rain whilst not slipping on brick sidewalks or marble steps." Everyone in philosophy was completely soaked including me.
I loved it.
I went to Davis to study today. Looking out of the window, you could see trees stretching for miles dotted with a few steeples from churches in Chapel Hill. The clouds seemed to reach down to earth in graceful wisps, blanketing the treetops and spires with a peaceful coolness. The greens and grays seemed to meld and mix into one color, ever changing at the whims of the wind.
I'm very ADD when doing calculus homework.
--
Carolina is awesome and the hot chocolate in the Union is the best in the world.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Ball Fields and Whole Grains.
Camp has started.
Right now I'm on the ball field under the stars, sitting on an old Tabernacle bench and listening to the crickets and cicadas. I know the scene is cliche, but sometimes the things that seem overused are the exact thing that our minds and souls need get away from the noise. So, disregarding the hardness of the bench and the ants that tend to crawl over my feet, here's what's been on my mind the past few days.
Lately, God's been teaching me about the simple concept following Him day by day. I'm someone who always seems to want to see the big picture and the end result. When I can see the finish line, I'll run hard. But God doesn't always work that way. Sometimes what we need is to say, "Father, I cannot live or breathe without your air entering my lungs. I cannot wake up or fall asleep or dream without your hand at work and your mercy giving me what I need at every moment." While we must give God our lives and our reason for living, what I often forget is that He desires us to spend every waking moment walking with Him in His glorious presence. God want our lives, but He also wants our minutes.
--
I lost internet connection at the ball field, so I came back to basketball court. Now I'm talking with Aly and Michael about how awesome Frosted Mini-Wheats are. Earlier today, Nathan and I said that by the end of the week we will be Ironmen since the cereal is so high in the metal. I suppose we might be Fibermen too, but that's not a movie. Now I have to give Aly back her Mac; so good night everyone.
McKinney
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Take Me to a Place...
Take me to a place where they where old t-shirts and drink tea and read dusty George Eliot novels. I want to go where the old men sit up late at street side cafes arguing politics. A place where the young mothers kiss their husbands goodbye in the morning and walk their kids to school on sunny days.
Take me to a place where I can feel brisk air on my face on an early spring morning and run beside gray cliffs that dive steeply into the sea. I want to have a fire in the fireplace and watch old Ratpack movies with good friends on rainy afternoons. Someplace with a big skylight in the roof so I can look at the stars when it's too cold to go out. A place with a screened in porch and big rocking chairs and tables full of 1,000 piece puzzles. We could all dress up for no reason and drive for miles with the top down into the fading sun.
Take me to a place where the pastor has the milkman over for dinner and talk about next week's sermon. A place where you can get real ice cream on the street corner on hot summer days and buy cones for the kids in line behind you. Somewhere where the mailman knows your name and feeds your dog when you're on vacation. I want to go to a place where they have snowball fights all day long during Christmas break. Where the grandmothers invite the kids in for hot chocolate and cookies.
Take me to a place where the girls are pretty because they don't care how they look. I want to be in a place that smells like smoking chimneys and falling leaves and apple cider. Someplace where the neighbors gather round the piano and sing hymns and Beatles songs. I'd like go to a place where I can read Shakespeare in an old oak tree. A place where I can climb up on the roof and watch the sunset.
Good night everyone,
mckinney
Take me to a place where I can feel brisk air on my face on an early spring morning and run beside gray cliffs that dive steeply into the sea. I want to have a fire in the fireplace and watch old Ratpack movies with good friends on rainy afternoons. Someplace with a big skylight in the roof so I can look at the stars when it's too cold to go out. A place with a screened in porch and big rocking chairs and tables full of 1,000 piece puzzles. We could all dress up for no reason and drive for miles with the top down into the fading sun.
Take me to a place where the pastor has the milkman over for dinner and talk about next week's sermon. A place where you can get real ice cream on the street corner on hot summer days and buy cones for the kids in line behind you. Somewhere where the mailman knows your name and feeds your dog when you're on vacation. I want to go to a place where they have snowball fights all day long during Christmas break. Where the grandmothers invite the kids in for hot chocolate and cookies.
Take me to a place where the girls are pretty because they don't care how they look. I want to be in a place that smells like smoking chimneys and falling leaves and apple cider. Someplace where the neighbors gather round the piano and sing hymns and Beatles songs. I'd like go to a place where I can read Shakespeare in an old oak tree. A place where I can climb up on the roof and watch the sunset.
Good night everyone,
mckinney
Thursday, May 22, 2008
A Few Notes on the Finer Things in Life
In no particular order:
1. Good coffee is strong, not acidic.
2. David Cook was the lesser evil.
3. Janis Joplin was the great American tragedy. Rock and roll is good. Drugs are bad.
4. Beach music is for old people. Really. Old people in old people beach clothes.
5. Barry Saunders is the man.
6. WHARRO was one of the words in today's "Jumble". If you're one of the people who figured it out, tell me and I will give you a million dollars*.
7. A gallon of gas or a latte? That is the question. OPEC is the new Starbuck's.
8. Ginger snaps are among of the greatest of all mankind's contributions to life in this universe.
9. Urban planning in America is like slavery in America; it died about a century and a half ago.
10. North Korea is simply ridiculous.
11. Staring at the night sky through a canopy of oak leaves is one of the most relaxing things ever.
12. Going to the dentist is wonderful.
13. The Telmarines are apparently Russian.
14. Scrabble is both addicting and infuriating.
15. I had no idea that coffee and chocolate come from the same tree.
16. The Amish make good potato salad.
17. Marie Currie had no idea how much she would change the world.
18. For those of you who where wondering, it's pronounced SOOF-yahn.
19. Do not attempt a Bon Qui Qui impersonation unless you really can do a Bon Qui Qui impersonation.
20. Look up "SNL Japanese Office" on YouTube.
Good Night/Morning,
mckinney
*OK, I lied.
1. Good coffee is strong, not acidic.
2. David Cook was the lesser evil.
3. Janis Joplin was the great American tragedy. Rock and roll is good. Drugs are bad.
4. Beach music is for old people. Really. Old people in old people beach clothes.
5. Barry Saunders is the man.
6. WHARRO was one of the words in today's "Jumble". If you're one of the people who figured it out, tell me and I will give you a million dollars*.
7. A gallon of gas or a latte? That is the question. OPEC is the new Starbuck's.
8. Ginger snaps are among of the greatest of all mankind's contributions to life in this universe.
9. Urban planning in America is like slavery in America; it died about a century and a half ago.
10. North Korea is simply ridiculous.
11. Staring at the night sky through a canopy of oak leaves is one of the most relaxing things ever.
12. Going to the dentist is wonderful.
13. The Telmarines are apparently Russian.
14. Scrabble is both addicting and infuriating.
15. I had no idea that coffee and chocolate come from the same tree.
16. The Amish make good potato salad.
17. Marie Currie had no idea how much she would change the world.
18. For those of you who where wondering, it's pronounced SOOF-yahn.
19. Do not attempt a Bon Qui Qui impersonation unless you really can do a Bon Qui Qui impersonation.
20. Look up "SNL Japanese Office" on YouTube.
Good Night/Morning,
mckinney
*OK, I lied.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Walden and Pancakes
So I went to Taco Bell with Nathan tonight around 10:30 because we were both feeling hungry and frugal. We ate our $2 meals in the parking lot and then I took him to pick up his car at Stephen's. When I got home, I realized that it took more than $2 worth of rice and tortilla to fill me up. As I was scrounging around the kitchen looking for food, it hit me.
And I commenced to do what was probably the most reckless and subversive thing I have ever done late on a Tuesday night.
I made myself the best M&M pancakes the world has ever known.
- -
I suppose I owe you guys more than an overview of my weeknight eating habits. AP's and various other school pressures have kept me from blogging the past couple of weeks. Since I have a bit of time now before camp starts, I decided I would ramble for a bit to keep the site alive.
I love Thoreau. Walden is probably one of the coolest pieces of non-fiction I've ever read. I was one of those kids who always dreamt of living out in the woods in a giant tree house - complete with trap door and rope ladder - spying on my enemies through a concealed telescope. I would have a complex pulley system of ropes and wheels to crank up food and supplies from below. My tree house would be large and efficient, interwoven among the tree branches like something out of a Stevenson novel. I think all boys have a certain fascination with living out in the woods, a ceiling of leaves and clean air for windows.
This is partly the reason Thoreau is such a big hero of mine. Off went Henry David, with an ax and a few supplies, chopped down some trees and lived next to Walden Pond for a good year. Largely without friend or company, he dug into the backwoods of New England and decided to find the purpose of life. Out of this came what has become known as one of the most boring and pointless required readings in higher education.
I loved Walden. Partially because I'm a pretty boring guy and partially because of what I already mentioned above. One of the things that's been coming to my mind recurrently the past couple of days is an observation Thoreau made at the end of his work, "Humility, like darkness, allows us to see the stars." As I've tried to unpack this brief yet weighty comment these past few days, I've come to the realization that Thoreau viewed the virtue of humility as simply letting go. We don't have to spend our lives trying to outshine something that is already beautiful and right. By simply stepping out of our perceived rights and needs, the beauty of life and of God are seen and cherished. I like that.
Enough for now,
McK
And I commenced to do what was probably the most reckless and subversive thing I have ever done late on a Tuesday night.
I made myself the best M&M pancakes the world has ever known.
- -
I suppose I owe you guys more than an overview of my weeknight eating habits. AP's and various other school pressures have kept me from blogging the past couple of weeks. Since I have a bit of time now before camp starts, I decided I would ramble for a bit to keep the site alive.
I love Thoreau. Walden is probably one of the coolest pieces of non-fiction I've ever read. I was one of those kids who always dreamt of living out in the woods in a giant tree house - complete with trap door and rope ladder - spying on my enemies through a concealed telescope. I would have a complex pulley system of ropes and wheels to crank up food and supplies from below. My tree house would be large and efficient, interwoven among the tree branches like something out of a Stevenson novel. I think all boys have a certain fascination with living out in the woods, a ceiling of leaves and clean air for windows.
This is partly the reason Thoreau is such a big hero of mine. Off went Henry David, with an ax and a few supplies, chopped down some trees and lived next to Walden Pond for a good year. Largely without friend or company, he dug into the backwoods of New England and decided to find the purpose of life. Out of this came what has become known as one of the most boring and pointless required readings in higher education.
I loved Walden. Partially because I'm a pretty boring guy and partially because of what I already mentioned above. One of the things that's been coming to my mind recurrently the past couple of days is an observation Thoreau made at the end of his work, "Humility, like darkness, allows us to see the stars." As I've tried to unpack this brief yet weighty comment these past few days, I've come to the realization that Thoreau viewed the virtue of humility as simply letting go. We don't have to spend our lives trying to outshine something that is already beautiful and right. By simply stepping out of our perceived rights and needs, the beauty of life and of God are seen and cherished. I like that.
Enough for now,
McK
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Jesus Loves Me, This I Know
Hosea.
Probably one of the most overlooked books in the scriptures; but the Word of God is living, and this past week my eyes have been opened to the beauty of these few short chapters. I think Hosea 1 can speak for itself.
"When the Lord first began speaking to Israel through Hosea, he said to him, 'Go and marry a prostitute, so that some of her children will be conceived in prostitution. This will illustrate how Israel has acted like a prostitute by turning against the Lord and worshiping other gods.' So Hosea married Gomer, the daughter of Diblaim..." and later talking about Israel, "Then, at the place where they were told, 'You are not my people,' it will be said, 'You are children of the living God...In that day you will call your brothers Ammi—'My people.' And you will call your sisters Ruhamah—‘The ones I love.'"
Sometimes I have a hard time viewing God as someone who pursues me with a perfect love. It's much easier for me to think of Him as the God who creates worlds and spins galaxies into existence rather than the passionate lover. I'm not sure if this difficulty comes from a well-justified feeling of unworthiness or whether the limits of my imagination are set conservatively in that respect. The Father has a lot to teach me in this area, and has begun to unfold some beautiful truths over the past few days.
Just imagine Hosea acting on God's instruction. Imagine the poor guy walking through the bad part of town, looking for the one God had chosen as His prophet's bride. What did he say to her first as she turned away in shame from this holy man of God? "Excuse me, God told me to marry the sickest whore I could find on the street and marry her. You're the one ma'am." Imagine Hosea awkwardly standing in front of the Rabbi by his bride, his reputation ruined, and himself half disgusted or half doubtling God's call all together. Think of Gomer, hesitating every step as the women in the town turned their sour faces from the disgraced couple and the men frowning over lusting eyes. I wonder how many questions filled their minds as they posed for one of the most breathtaking portraits of God's love He ever painted.
This week, God has been revealing a passionate love that goes beyond the deepest understanding. The grand paradox, if you will, of the Creator of the Universe debasing himself to win over His unworthy creation to the love of the ages. A love that wants hold our hand as we run barefoot through tall grass in the subtle rays of an early sunrise. A love that transforms us from the whore on the street into a radiant and innocent virgin. A love that makes us cry as we lie in bed at night for the beauty of life. A love that calls us to be both reckless and reverent. A love that knows who we are and pursues us in spite of it. A love that will climb trees and make shapes out of clouds with us on a summer afternoon.
I know that that was a bit of a sermon, but hey, it's Sunday
Cammy - good luck on the Italian exam tomorrow,
McK
Probably one of the most overlooked books in the scriptures; but the Word of God is living, and this past week my eyes have been opened to the beauty of these few short chapters. I think Hosea 1 can speak for itself.
"When the Lord first began speaking to Israel through Hosea, he said to him, 'Go and marry a prostitute, so that some of her children will be conceived in prostitution. This will illustrate how Israel has acted like a prostitute by turning against the Lord and worshiping other gods.' So Hosea married Gomer, the daughter of Diblaim..." and later talking about Israel, "Then, at the place where they were told, 'You are not my people,' it will be said, 'You are children of the living God...In that day you will call your brothers Ammi—'My people.' And you will call your sisters Ruhamah—‘The ones I love.'"
Sometimes I have a hard time viewing God as someone who pursues me with a perfect love. It's much easier for me to think of Him as the God who creates worlds and spins galaxies into existence rather than the passionate lover. I'm not sure if this difficulty comes from a well-justified feeling of unworthiness or whether the limits of my imagination are set conservatively in that respect. The Father has a lot to teach me in this area, and has begun to unfold some beautiful truths over the past few days.
Just imagine Hosea acting on God's instruction. Imagine the poor guy walking through the bad part of town, looking for the one God had chosen as His prophet's bride. What did he say to her first as she turned away in shame from this holy man of God? "Excuse me, God told me to marry the sickest whore I could find on the street and marry her. You're the one ma'am." Imagine Hosea awkwardly standing in front of the Rabbi by his bride, his reputation ruined, and himself half disgusted or half doubtling God's call all together. Think of Gomer, hesitating every step as the women in the town turned their sour faces from the disgraced couple and the men frowning over lusting eyes. I wonder how many questions filled their minds as they posed for one of the most breathtaking portraits of God's love He ever painted.
This week, God has been revealing a passionate love that goes beyond the deepest understanding. The grand paradox, if you will, of the Creator of the Universe debasing himself to win over His unworthy creation to the love of the ages. A love that wants hold our hand as we run barefoot through tall grass in the subtle rays of an early sunrise. A love that transforms us from the whore on the street into a radiant and innocent virgin. A love that makes us cry as we lie in bed at night for the beauty of life. A love that calls us to be both reckless and reverent. A love that knows who we are and pursues us in spite of it. A love that will climb trees and make shapes out of clouds with us on a summer afternoon.
I know that that was a bit of a sermon, but hey, it's Sunday
Cammy - good luck on the Italian exam tomorrow,
McK
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Prayer and Rain
Hello everyone,
It's been raining a lot lately. I washed my car Saturday since our water restrictions have finally been repealed. Of course it rained Sunday afternoon, streaking the light green pollen (that I had overlooked) down the doors and windshield of my Rodeo. Monday it rained again, this time for better, sending the powdery stripes swirling onto the curb. Tuesday, the green stuff once again coated the Isuzu like a light covering of patina.
I promise I do more throughout the week than stare at my car.
When I was driving home from the library today, I was listening Ella Fizgerald (so fitting for rain, by the way), when I thought about how classy rain is. When it rains my thoughts sometimes tend to wonder sidewalks in Manhattan or maybe Chicago. The time is somewhere between 2:00 and 3:00AM, the rain whirling in the streetlamps, and one or two cafes still have on their blinking neons. A smooth strain of a saxophone rises from a deep corner of a room from a few floors up, slowly enveloping the airwaves like cigarette smoke. Rain makes me think of satin gowns and martinis and grand pianos and the Pink Panther.
There's something about rain that always puts me in the mood for prayer. Maybe it's the hypnotizing swish of windshield wipers, or the way small droplets form tiny rivers on window panes. I feel like I can get lost in the way rain falls limply to the ground from a massive gray swath of gas in the sky. Maybe the feeling that all of us are formed be something greater. Maybe it's the transiency of the droplet rivers which, with the swoop of a windshield blade, come crashing down to the pavement. I think this transiency makes me think of eternity. The prayer can come so naturally at these times, it's almost subliminal; just listening. It astounds me that our Creator can be so gentle, whispering melodies into our souls while breathing corrections into spirits. It amazes me that our Father chooses to give us this peace.
That's all for now,
McK
It's been raining a lot lately. I washed my car Saturday since our water restrictions have finally been repealed. Of course it rained Sunday afternoon, streaking the light green pollen (that I had overlooked) down the doors and windshield of my Rodeo. Monday it rained again, this time for better, sending the powdery stripes swirling onto the curb. Tuesday, the green stuff once again coated the Isuzu like a light covering of patina.
I promise I do more throughout the week than stare at my car.
When I was driving home from the library today, I was listening Ella Fizgerald (so fitting for rain, by the way), when I thought about how classy rain is. When it rains my thoughts sometimes tend to wonder sidewalks in Manhattan or maybe Chicago. The time is somewhere between 2:00 and 3:00AM, the rain whirling in the streetlamps, and one or two cafes still have on their blinking neons. A smooth strain of a saxophone rises from a deep corner of a room from a few floors up, slowly enveloping the airwaves like cigarette smoke. Rain makes me think of satin gowns and martinis and grand pianos and the Pink Panther.
There's something about rain that always puts me in the mood for prayer. Maybe it's the hypnotizing swish of windshield wipers, or the way small droplets form tiny rivers on window panes. I feel like I can get lost in the way rain falls limply to the ground from a massive gray swath of gas in the sky. Maybe the feeling that all of us are formed be something greater. Maybe it's the transiency of the droplet rivers which, with the swoop of a windshield blade, come crashing down to the pavement. I think this transiency makes me think of eternity. The prayer can come so naturally at these times, it's almost subliminal; just listening. It astounds me that our Creator can be so gentle, whispering melodies into our souls while breathing corrections into spirits. It amazes me that our Father chooses to give us this peace.
That's all for now,
McK
Monday, April 21, 2008
Getting Started
Hello everyone,
Well I've decided to take another plunge into the blogging world. I kept up with my Xanga site for awhile until I realized that it was falling under the stereotype of 14-year-old girls who have nothing better to do. Hopefully this blog can be a bit more of a creative outlet.
I'd like to think that the title of this site stems from the idea that some of the most remarkable people are those that might seem to be just faces in a crowd. People who, like endless cul-de-sacs and whitewashed shutters, might seem to be the essence of conformity. But people who, underneath their cubicle jobs and drive-thru lunches, have ideas. Ideas about everything from the size of the universe to the smallest atom. Ideas about how a government should serve its people. Ideas about what makes a baby laugh or how a composer channels landscapes and distant horizons with the stroke of a bow on a string. Ideas about what causes DNA to work in perfect accord to sustain life. Ideas about what starts wars and what ends them. Ideas about God and infinity. These are the heroes who long for something more, and who wish to soar higher in their dreams - anticipating the day when they will find themselves in their dreams awake.
This blog is for these superheroes.
With anticipation,
McK
Well I've decided to take another plunge into the blogging world. I kept up with my Xanga site for awhile until I realized that it was falling under the stereotype of 14-year-old girls who have nothing better to do. Hopefully this blog can be a bit more of a creative outlet.
I'd like to think that the title of this site stems from the idea that some of the most remarkable people are those that might seem to be just faces in a crowd. People who, like endless cul-de-sacs and whitewashed shutters, might seem to be the essence of conformity. But people who, underneath their cubicle jobs and drive-thru lunches, have ideas. Ideas about everything from the size of the universe to the smallest atom. Ideas about how a government should serve its people. Ideas about what makes a baby laugh or how a composer channels landscapes and distant horizons with the stroke of a bow on a string. Ideas about what causes DNA to work in perfect accord to sustain life. Ideas about what starts wars and what ends them. Ideas about God and infinity. These are the heroes who long for something more, and who wish to soar higher in their dreams - anticipating the day when they will find themselves in their dreams awake.
This blog is for these superheroes.
With anticipation,
McK
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