Painting

pink lemonade
Originally uploaded by railyuh.

I'm not a paint artist by any means, but this is something I've done just for fun. Any thoughts on it?

Forever Amazing

this is a worship song i wrote a while back

May my life become
A discovery of what
You have done for me

Never Ending
Forever amazing, Lord
What You have done for me


A new creation now is here
The veil's been torn I see You
Clear and beautiful
Just like You have always been

The old is gone and passed away
I see the light of a new
Day and I just drift away
With you again


And may my purpose be
To lay here at Your feet
Falling in love with You

It's where I find my need
Just right here at Your feet
Falling in love

(repeat chorus)



I'm not sure how the cadence will translate here. I was just thinking about the song today and thought I'd share.

swings

swings
Originally uploaded by railyuh.

Well, if anyone is still paying attention I've finally gotten around to making a contribution (thanks to the scanner/printer I got for Christmas). Maybe another medium will jumpstart some activity around here.

I took this photo about 1 1/2 years ago and developed it myself in the darkroom. I like it, but you don't have to, I won't cry...and if I do you don't have to feel bad because I'll lie about it and you'll never know...so let me know what you think! :)

I haven't been around here at all lately. I guess I'm not the only one. I was hoping that this place would serve as a spur in my creative ass. But no dice. I don't think it's the place as much as I have reeeeaaaaally thick skin on my creative ass and it takes a hard spurring to get me moving.

I wouldn't give up hope for this thing. There's bound to be more dedicated people in this group than I.

The Introduction of My Novel (and no, the rest of the story isn't written in this crazy style--comments?)

He stole her from the land of free papayas. From verdant leaves glazed with rain, ripe fruit in their backyard garden, dark vines inching their way through nests of coconut. He tore her from an antisepticised paradise, from shopping in air-conditioned malls, a house where a live-in Filipino servant completed mundane chores and a twice-a-week Malaysian gardener created a semblance of Eden. From a land piled high with epicurean delights, with delicacies from the East and West, with men who pushed carts on the street roasting chestnuts in giant woks, mealy snacks crystallized with sugar, nearly burning to the touch. He lured her from that which is thicker than water, from laughter and hotsunny days filled with well-behaved progeny and familial dinners, from a wizened mother in traditional silks, simultaneously doting matriarch and fierce dragon, uneducated but streetwise bargain hunter who threw sensibility to the window when her offspring were involved, twice succumbing to fraud involving thousands of dollars in ransom for grown sons never kidnapped. He pulled her from the cacophony of seven siblings and their assorted spouses, from nephews and nieces so increasingly numerous that she often lost count. From her oldest sister’s chili crab and Buddhist brother’s vegetarian beef satay, from Christmas afternoons in rooms filled with the blending of English and Cantonese, never fully one language or the other, and enough chopsticks for everyone to join in mixing the plate of shredded salad. Once at high tea she sat with a handful of children and casually dressed women eating prawns, commenting on how life had changed; where formerly a watermelon was a special treat to be shared, bought from a mother’s earnings as a maid, now she lived as a woman of leisure on her brilliant husband’s engineering income. But that brilliant husband had dreams a tiny island country could never hold, and when his daughter was five, time was pregnant and gave birth to the land of freedom.

Lights Out

I could say your smile
is magical, and your eyes are
windows to your soul, or say being with
you makes me feel whole. But that would
make you vomit.

You might say your only goal
is to love me, and you’ll always hold
my hand when I need to cry. Or you might swear
to love me into eternity. Those are just
more stained glass promises—
colored reality that’s easily shattered.

I still believe in a penny’s wish
and I dream that I can fly. You still
jump in puddles and you always
start food fights. And it’s okay
if we go fishing all morning and never
catch anything. You
took a nap while I stared
at the sky.

I love the way you don’t
always have to be right,
And you never try to psychoanalyze
me or tell me how to feel or
who I should be. Still, you are
nervous when I turn out the light.

Ten Track Five

I wrote this around 8 years ago.


Vederesque lyrics that cut so deep
Touching my innermost feelings
I thought no one else could understand
But I was wrong

This blissful state I find myself in
Is tainted with flecks of pain
I thought I could be happy
But I was wrong

I thought I knew the way
And what would happen for today
But tomorrow changed
And again
I was was wrong

Better no feeling?
As if I were dead?
This constant buzzing in my head
Reminding me
Reminding me
That I was wrong

Eddie said it best in his Black sun and sky analogy
Vague this may seem and sound
To you
To me
Profound

So I go along my way
Wandering
Wondering
Every day
Was I right?
Was I wrong?
Will this question linger on?

Where?
Where does the answer lie?
Bright the sun
Dark my sky