It Rains for Me

I knew you were talking about the rain when you said it would be alright.

But I opened my eyes anyway and kept to the horizon.

Salt water and bullshit stung my face.

You said once the rain stopped the water would be smooth.

Like glass.

So my soul gave my conscience the thumbs up and went in search of calmer seas.

And found them.

It's agitating that she is fretting about not having butter for the biscuits when it's taking everything I have to not call and cancel the whole thing.

I expect I could blame it on the lack of butter, but he would know immediately it's because I am afraid.

That's dramatic. And presumptuous.

I would never use butter, or the lack there of, as an excuse for anything. And he wouldn't know - immediately.

But isn't butter an easier explanation for the past 30 years.

Wayfarers and Such - Exercise #2

Dark men in dark corners can be overheard whispering such things as "Passion should be stirred by simply buying fruit at the market." This is exactly why Woody Allen spends two weeks a year in Paris. One would assume life as a pair of Ray Ban Wayfarers would be all visions of gumdrops and celebrities, but if you're Mr. Allen's concaved black rimmed glasses, you may not have a stomach for all the passions of the romantic city. "Psst, Iris!" "Psst." Iris peers over the edge of the provincial vanity she’s sitting on to see Black Sock with a Hole in the Toe, mangy and old at best, on the floor trying desperately to get her attention. With an heir of annoyance, Iris snaps, "I don’t know what it is about this city that makes you a sentimental basket case, but if I have to hear one more time about how Brad Pitt almost bought you right off Mr. Woody’s feet on a dare, I’m going to scream." Black Sock with a Hole in the Toe said, "Mais non, haven’t you been listening to Woody talking about changing his image? He’s been desperate for so long to stir his personal pot, I would think you'd be slightly more concerned than you appear." "If I were to freak out every time Woody mentioned changing his image, I'd be in a 50% OFF loony bin." Iris' confidence was built on years of public recognition. She was almost as famous as the producer himself! Woody hadn’t been photographed in 30 years without her. She had mastered capturing the light and angles of his face to please the paparazzi. "I’ll admit your confidence brings a slight comfort, but I would stake my threads there was talk of big chang..." "Shhh!" Iris cut off Black Sock with a Hole in the Toe just as Mr. Allen emerged from the shower and picked up Iris and placed her on his nose. She wasn’t just a part of him, she was him.

The Original Artist

Psalm 19:1 The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands.

As my focus shifts from one ambitious tree to the next their branches begin to emulate rivers. Each limb surges forward creating tributaries and creeks. Blossoms dance like campfire. Buds crackle and illuminate rosy shoulders. They are still and calm like sand banks to the eye, but chirp and flutter like a mighty current. Canaries in canoes sway against the breeze. Happy tubers grasp branches and avoid dark nooks. As my senses catch up to the warm sun against my cheeks I wonder at the similarities. God must have known how we would assimilate his creation. He knew the resemblances would be his artistic signature.

It's natural to follow artists we love. Even if we are not great art critics, we recognize the works of those we find appealing. We know their style because we like it and it speaks to our senses. We gravitate to their interpretations of reality.

Have you ever thought about how the first artistic interpretation was spoken from God's lips, THE original artist, into being? We are just a room in His museum. His work is below us, above us, and around us. It is clearly His. We would know it in any gallery in the universe. We would know it in any pawn shop, street stand, corner market, or art festival. God doesn't even have to sign his name and we know it's His.

But would we recognize an imposter? A fake?

The greatest artists are recognized by their style, special signature, and in some cases careful examination. There are many forgers out to recreate the works of great artists in order to deceive and manipulate, but the experts who have studied the artist, know the art and its authenticity. They know because they are familiar with every stroke, every dot of the eye, and every wrinkle in the canvas. When we pray and study God's word He reveals to us special evidence that helps us recognize His creation and will for it.

Hebrews 11:3 By faith we understand that the universe was formed at God’s command, so that what is seen was not made out of what was visible.

Hebrews 13:8 Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

(New International Version, ©2011)

Validation

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cbk980jV7Ao

It's Against The Law To Pawn Your Dentures In Las Vegas

Flutterby!! ~ A 2005 La Feroce Bete Post

The names of Popeye's four nephews are Pipeye, Peepeye, Pupeye, and Poopeye!

No piece of square dry paper can be folded more than 7 times in half!

Over 2500 left handed people a year are killed from using products made for right handed people!

A 'jiffy' is an actual unit of time for 1/100th of a second!

It's against the law to pawn your dentures in Las Vegas!

There are more plastic flamingos in the U.S, than real ones!

Bats always turn left when exiting a cave!

You'll eat about 35,000 cookies in a lifetime! Wow!

A giraffe can clean its ears with its 21-inch tongue!

Slugs have 4 noses!

In Tokyo, they sell toupees for dogs!

In the year 2000, Pope John Paul II was named an "Honorary Harlem Globetrotter."!

Men are 6 times more likely to be struck by lightning than women!

The original name for the butterfly was 'flutterby'!

It is against the law to mispronounce the name of the State of Arkansas in that State.

In Tennessee, a law exists which prohibits the sale of bologna (sandwich meat) on Sunday.

There are four cars and eleven lightposts on the back of a ten dollar bill.

House Near a Mill to John and Elaine

Dear John and Elaine,

I am so very honored you thought of me when it came to the care of your pets and home.

I was intent on following your written instructions to the letter and settling into your poopsies' routine. I wanted to make sure I acclimated to them and not them to me. After feeling my way around and re-introducing myself with a string of indecipherable ramblings about how cute and sweet they were, I walked with them from room to room.

Your house made me want to name it or maybe just sing it out like an old Southern Hymn (this is where I pictured Cherry pews, stained glass, and Sister Berta in a thin white dress fanning familiar spirits and harmonies).

Plaster walls forgive me
Hardwood floors release me
Just As I Am, Just As I Am

I listened to the tub quote Kahlil Gibran's friendship prose as I brushed my teeth. Sweet Pea and Little Bit blamed the Nag Champa and porcelain pitcher for mixing up the postcards in the kitchen, but I know it was them.

In the evening Emma, Sam, and I talked about the day while love notes pinned to cork boards flapped like white cafe curtains. Your high ceilings playfully threaten to tie us to the moonlight with ribbon and wrap us all with twine to the sun. Sam teased them back as shadows passed and Emma crossed them off her list.

Most hours I thought about flipping through your books. While the lights were on they appeared stacked together in purposeful pillars but once the lights went out I could here them playing chicken on each other's shoulders.

Just before I turned in, I heard Emma snoring and Sam's fan and all the house listening to an encore of porch chimes clonking ancient stories like Shaman aboard a train.

Your house is rich and kind; which I imagine, as I tend to do - is a mirror image of your souls.

Thank you for letting me fill your shoes and bowls. Sam and Emma delighted me and Sweet Pea and Little Bit renewed my faith in snobby kitties.

Your home is a confirmation for humanity. Every room captures love.

Your walls and fridge represent passion and creativity.

But your passion for West Greenville demonstrates humility, faith in mankind, and love. Love to be experience and shared by all... who live.


Again, Thanks.

~Aubrey



PS. Sam passed gas so badly, Emma and I had to leave the room and convene in the kitchen for prayer.