Relateable Me

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God and The Invention of Lying April 22, 2010

Filed under: Random nonsense,Uncategorized — relateableme @ 10:40 pm
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Last night I saw the movie The Invention of Lying. It wasn’t what I expected and it gave me a surprising bit to think about. The basic plot is that humans haven’t evolved to the point of lying; everyone tells the truth, all the time – brutally and honestly. In a moment of desperation, the main character develops the ability to lie and is able to get, through deception,  much of what was lacking in his life. There is a twist when his mother, terrified of  eternal nothingness, is dying and he “lies” to here about the existence of heaven. This is compounded when this conversation is overheard and people demand to know what he knows. He basically “creates” his own system of morality to make humans acceptable to God – “The Man in the Sky.”

What is interesting is that, while the human race now had a hope concerning the afterlife, it made little difference in the way they lived. I could only assume that this is how the writer of the screenplay views religion: a list of rules made by a detached deity.  If we have no relationship with God, than what He asks of us is nothing more than a list of rules that seem like nothing more than fickle, non-nonsensical dictates. God intends it to be understood in the complete opposite way. God protects us through His commands once we are brought into a relationship with Him, not to earn heaven, but to refine us along the way.

I wonder what influences the writer has had, spiritually speaking. What ugly message has he heard? Why is His view of God so skewed? I have observed that in the effort to “defend” Christianity, believers have made the Gospel very unappealing and have cloaked it in false righteousness: it’s your works that save you and you must maintain the outwards appearance of godliness by abstaining from everything. Very ugly, very untrue. It’s amazing how completely freeing the truth actually is and how tainted it’s become.


Antonio and Art April 16, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — relateableme @ 3:43 am
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I love interior design – actually I love almost every expression of art. I’m not  a fan of reality TV, but when HGTV had their design star reality series last year, one of the contestants stood out. Antonio was a movie set designer/builder, originally from New York and scruffy mess in a completely lovable way. Anyway, his fresh, out-of-the-box ideas won him his own TV series. Let me put it this way, my husband hates design shows and actually enjoyed him because he’s an Italian, tatted up man’s man.

I finally watched a couple of episodes of his new show (The Antonio Treatment) tonight. He is so out there without alienating anyone – he is so creative, uses techniques no one else thinks of without the bourgeois attitude of some designers. He’s an artist. He’s got his own style, that while evolving, it truly his own.

In one of the episodes he designed a living room/art studio for a deaf client who is a cartoonist. He brought in one the guy’s favorite artists to do a piece for the room – his insight was so cool.

It’s just nice to see real art on TV and not copycat prettiness that gets really boring.


Art as a Journey April 11, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — relateableme @ 2:45 am
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My husband showed me this video – it really explores the dark journey of any artist.  The journey of expression is arduous and requires not only that we learn as we go, but that we expose the journey as it is: gritty, painful, victorious, but always a journey, never a destination.


Shakespeare for seven year olds January 12, 2010

Filed under: Random nonsense,Uncategorized — relateableme @ 4:31 am

I was in the car listening to Taylor Swift today when the song “Love Story” came on. My daughter was in the back belting out the lyrics and then stopped and asked me what she was singing about. You have to understand that my daughter asks LITERALLY 1000 questions a day – which I’m learning to love about her  – when she’s not driving me nuts:) Anyway, I told her the story about Romeo and Juliet and she got quiet and then asked, “why would anyone write something so sad?” I had to laugh because why indeed? That made me think about human nature and how we recoil from our own suffering, but indulge in that of others.  I love sad stuff – I’m totally morbid that way, i just feel comfortable there, which honestly is not a healthy thing for me. Anyway, I didn’t really have an answer.

Later my niece was in the car with us and Mary asked for the same song again. I heard her explaining Shakespeare’s tragedy to her. She was so animated and in its telling. I piped up and told her that Swift’s song had a happy ending though. “Oh GOOD!” she gasped, “because that was just terrible.”  I love how she sees the world.


The entrapment of inspiration January 3, 2010

Filed under: Random nonsense,Uncategorized — relateableme @ 3:06 am

I’ve always none that my muse is not really a healthy one. I become most prolific in a depressed and forlorn state. I guess I never let it bother me because i was simple glad that I felt inspire at all. The other day my husband said that it bothers him when he sees me heading into that state, because he knows that I’m going to be sad and listless and filled with illusions of discontent. While I can recognise what he’s talking about, I’ve never fought those moods, loving what I produce during that time.

It made me think though about the beauty in my life and why I never find it inspiring. I always seem to dwell on the moments and ruts of despair; the cup is ALWAYS half empty and I’ve gotten used to that perspective because melancholy produces creative bouts of writing. I wonder though if one’s inspiration can vary. I have been locked in a habit for years and are finally asking myself if it’s healthy and if I can produce just as much or perhaps more from drawing from the beauty around me.

This is all hypothetical because I really don’t know. I’ve decided to pray about it and ask God to enable me to write in a way that’s productive both relationally (with my family) and creatively (with the pen).


Off Facebook December 16, 2009

Filed under: Life chapters,Uncategorized — relateableme @ 4:59 am

I decided, through a series of unfortunate events, that I need a break from Facebook. It’s so sad how we get sucked into things. They are not bad things, just things that we find our identity in. We as humans, go from one thing to the next trying to find our niche. When you step away from something, you begin wondering how you ever survived without it; how did you fill that time before? How did you keep in contact with all those lost members of your life before Facebook? No, how did I do all these things? Well, I’ve been off of FB for 24 hours and it’s amazing to me how many times during the day I wanted to define myself with a “status” report; a sentence, maybe two or simply a few words to project myself to a captive audience. The chance to shout my “barbaric yalp” to the cyber world.

I didn’t though. I don’t have a very addictive personality, so it was fairly easy to stop, I just felt lonely. But  I want to spend more time writing (other than status updates and comments) and stretch my brain in ways I keep saying I want to, but never do. I want to let out all I have inside and place in typed ramblings.


Women of a Certain Age December 13, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — relateableme @ 4:29 am

Ok, seriously, I need to start writing again or I am going to explode. It is so therapeutic, like I can imagine Confession must be. Actually I wish we practiced Confession in Protestant circles – it would be amazing just to let it out and know that someone, with skin on, knows what I’ve done and think. I don’t need them to absolve me, just listen and tell me Jesus will forgive a wretch like me.

Anyway, that’s not what I intended posting today.

The other day I was having lunch with my mother and grandma and we began talking about life. My grandma commented on how young I looked and I told them that I am finally at a place in life where I am comfortable with myself. For some reason I always thought that if you didn’t know yourself by 21, it was a shame. I hid this for years, looking at other women wondering if they were at peace with themselves and trying desperately to hide the fact that I was not. I was saying all this when my 81-year-old grandma says, “37!” I looked at her as she delved into a long-deglected storehouse of memories, “I was 37 when I finally knew who I was.”

That was enough for me. At 35, I can finally say I know who I am, and more importantly, I’m happy with that and more importantly than that, I don’t care how everyone else feels about my personal-identity destination. I am free.

I have to say that I didn’t get to this end in a very healthy manner, but recommended or not, I arrived there none-the-less. I guess I got to a place where I wasn’t going to ignore the essence of me for the sake of others. That sounds horrible, but actually, it’s not. I didn’t stop being what I was for everyone else, I just decided to be more me along the way. It’s stirred up so many things that I’ve allowed to lay dormant, but they were all there waiting for me. The things that consumed me before, don’t, and the things that I ignored are more a part of me.