Well, it's been a fair amount of time since my last update, which was not a real 'update,' on life, but a sneak peek at the novel I'm planning to write this November! If you haven't seen that yet, please check it out! :)
Last week, my dad and I had the opportunity to be extras during the shooting of Marvel's upcoming film "The Avengers" which will be coming out next Summer. He and I and some friends went to the open casting call in July, and long after we had given up hope of getting a call, Daddy got one! I was excited for him, of course, but disappointed that I had not. Then about a week later, I got a call too!
So, yeah. That was...pretty cool. :)
We spent two nights (last Monday and Tuesday) in Stuttgart, Germany, (aka Cleveland OH.) I'm telling you, the set was AMAZING! I loved it.
A few days before that, on the 20th, our family went up to Conneaut for the D-Day Ohio re-enactment, which was REALLY neat. The Allied and German camps were really neat to look through, and the battle was really well executed. Not to mention getting to visit with some of our area friends, The Kuntzes (who clued us in about the re-enactment!) the Browns, Debbie Bates, and the Andersons. Lots of fun at the re-enactment, as well as getting to visit a little more with the Andersons (and Alex and Amanda, and Kyle, and the other Alex...:)) at the Andersons' house.
Oh! Also, I entered my Horatio Hornblower costume, my formal kilt attire, and my Caledonia tartan waistcoat in the fair, and got second place, first place, and second place on them, respectively.
I've had a busy couple of days this week with work for WPG and the neighbor, but I've begun work on mine and Brandon's costumes for the OSR. I will need to really knuckle down in the next few days, hopefully good progress will be made sooner rather than later, so that I'm not in the usual mad rush the day or two before the event. :P
So, that's what's been happening...
The musings, thoughts and other oddities of Caleb. (They arise chiefly from what is passing at the moment.)
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Eyes Of My Heart (promo/prologue)
So, this is [part of] the prologue (or basically a preview) of what will, hopefully, be my novel this November. I hadn't been writing much lately, and so I thought I'd do this, both as just to get a bit of writing in, and also to try and begin focusing ideas for this story before NaNo rolls around. Enjoy! :)
(And I realize this is kind of a cheat of a blog post...;))
The glory of triumph was stirring Alexander's heart as he cut past two guards and faced a third in the very gateway of the castle. His advance was inexorable, the men who came against him could not stand against his fierce onslaught. The great sword gripped in his fist fell in blow after blow against his enemies. Punishing, vanquishing. He penetrated the high guard of the next soldier in front of him, and bowled him over with his shoulder. He was in the courtyard now. The stones beneath him fairly resonated with absorbed heat, but the sweat which covered his brow and soaked his clothing was nothing compared to the victory at hand. With a sideways slash and a powerful backswing, he swept his enemy's sword out of the way, and kicked it from his hand. Raising himself to his full height, he lifted the tip of the blade to his enemy's throat.
"Yield, blackguard." He wiggled his sword impatiently. "Yield, I say!"
"Who are you fighting?" The voice, so close, and yet utterly unexpected, made Alexander start involuntarily. He turned. The girl was sitting on a circular bench beneath a tree, watching him. Her gown was simple and unadorned, but by the very cut and texture of it, Alexander could see that the girl was 'quality.' A large white and grey tomcat, whose fur she was gently stroking, lay curled beside her. Alexander was so taken aback by the intrusion into his battle, that he simply stared at her. She smiled, as if understanding.
"I'm sorry if I startled you," She said. "I often sit here beneath this tree during the afternoon. The people who pass interest me."
There was another moment of silence in which the only sounds audible were Alexander's still-heavy breathing and the low drone of the cat's purring.
"Who were you fighting?" She asked again.
He drew himself up again to answer, "The enemies of the King." He replied with as much grandness and pride as he could muster, flustered as he was by the girl's interruption.
She nodded, smiling still, which irritated Alexander's warrior sensibilities. "You are a very brave knight," she said admiringly. Needless to say, this statement considerably bolstered Alexander, and he smiled now too, though his eyes were now gazing intently at his feet and the point of his sword between them instead of at the girl.
"A 'brave knight'? Fah!"
This interruption was much more offensive, and, if possible, even less expected than the first. Anton, Alexander's one real, flesh-and-blood, opponent, came striding across the square, smirking at Alexander. The girl's head turned slightly, toward the sound of the approaching footsteps, but her eyes did not leave Alexander. "When was the last time you drew your sword in defense of His Majesty and his interests, Anton?" She asked gently, but loud enough for the walking ego to hear as he drew near. He frowned at her, and then at Alexander. "I have more important things to do than play act!" He viciously directed the last words in Alexander's direction.
"Oh." The girl replied simply.
Anton seemed to be taken aback by the nature of the response. Apparently he had expected more, or perhaps less.
"I am a squire to a knight," he proclaimed, "and I'll be one myself, long before this little man ever gets out of the kitchen!"
Alexander was bristling, fairly shuddering with shame and rage, but unsure what to do. Anton must have noticed the spasmodic jerks of his sword hand, for he smiled mockingly and raised his empty hands, palms up, as if to say, "You don't dare try and fight me, little knight - I have no weapon, and what sort of chivalry would that be?"
"Perhaps," the girl's voice snapped, as effortlessly as if it had been a piece of taut string between a pair of shears, through the tension between the two boys. "Perhaps, Anton, but you must admit there was a time not so very long ago, when you were as enthusiastically in the King's service as this brave boy is now. Has your reality taken away your fervor?"
Anton stood silent for a few moments, while the girl waited patiently, letting the cat, who had rolled onto its back during this discourse, play with her hand. After the brief silence, Anton simply stalked away.
As soon as Alexander lost sight of him around the corner, the girl smiled again, and beckoned to him. "Come closer, brave knight."
As he approached her, he guessed that she was probably a year or two younger than himself. Her eyes were large and blue, her golden hair long and braided. When he was in front of her, she indicated the place beside her and, after a moment of hesitation, Alexander seated himself. He was of that age when boys shy away from girls; for what reason, they themselves do not even fully understand. However, Alexander was of an outgoing nature as well, and was not as petrified of the fairer sex as some. The girl smiled, and turned in his direction, but their eyes did not meet.
"What does your sword look like?"
Alexander's mouth actually dropped open, but he willed it closed again. It was hardly polite to leave it hanging wide like a cod's on market day. He eyed the crude wooden implement in his hands, not quite sure how to reply. It was right in front of the girl, so what prompted such a question. She seemed to know what he was thinking and added almost apologetically, "I know the shape of a sword, but great knights often have very unique ones."
A flash of understanding brought a slight scowl to Alexander's. The girl's condescension was not appreciated. He had no delusions about his sword, it was but wood and nails, with uncountable dents and scratches along the length of it. He was not such a child to be imagining a grand sword out of a piece of battered oak.
"It's just wood, miss." He was looking away now, trying to contain his irritation, and also beginning to feel strange under the girl's eyes. "Just for practice."
"I know." The soft smile was again turned toward him, "but do you not have a dream of having your own sword when you are a knight?"
He turned to look her full in the face. Her unblinking smile drove his eyes away from hers. He felt himself start to squirm, his boyish shyness suddenly falling on him full force. "Y-yes, I mean, I suppose I do..." He stammered, wondering how to politely get away.
"What is your name?" Asked the girl.
"Alexander."
"Ah, The Defender." The girl nodded. "Your parents chose well."
"Would they had." Alexander managed to choke out.
The girl's face clouded, and she looked away. "What?"
"My Aunt named me. My parents are...are." He stopped and looked away himself. After a moment he stood, slowly wiping the corner of his eye.
"I'm sorry."
Alexander looked back at the girl and started. She was looking at the place beside her on the bench where he had been sitting, and her hand was slowly moving out, he guessed, in quest of his. He slowly sat back down, staring at her with strange fascination. Her gaze did not waver, though her brow began to furrow. Slowly, he slid out his right hand until the tips of their fingers touched on the bench. The girl took hold of his hand gently. "I'm sorry," she repeated, and at the same time, Alexander raised his left hand and passed it slowly in front of her face. Her eyes did not blink, nor did they follow the path of his hand. He gasped.
"What is it?" She asked quickly, her head turning swiftly.
"Your...your..." Alexander gulped and blurted: "Your eyes!"
"Oh...!" The girl turned away, her hands moving to hide her eyes. Alexander reached out quickly and caught them, however. The girl slowly turned back to him as he gently pulled her hands from her face.
"Your eyes are..." His voice caught in his throat. He hadn't meant to hurt her, and the guilt he would have felt otherwise was increased tenfold by the realization of her disadvantage. She couldn't help it that she was blind. He could not imagine the difficulty she must have endured without her sight. The thousand and one things he saw and took for granted every single day, an which had never made her heart glad. The girl's blue eyes stared at him, the corners glistening slightly with tears. Although he knew she could not see him, her eyes were... "beautiful. Your eyes are beautiful, miss." He finally whispered breathlessly.
...To be continued...
(And I realize this is kind of a cheat of a blog post...;))
The glory of triumph was stirring Alexander's heart as he cut past two guards and faced a third in the very gateway of the castle. His advance was inexorable, the men who came against him could not stand against his fierce onslaught. The great sword gripped in his fist fell in blow after blow against his enemies. Punishing, vanquishing. He penetrated the high guard of the next soldier in front of him, and bowled him over with his shoulder. He was in the courtyard now. The stones beneath him fairly resonated with absorbed heat, but the sweat which covered his brow and soaked his clothing was nothing compared to the victory at hand. With a sideways slash and a powerful backswing, he swept his enemy's sword out of the way, and kicked it from his hand. Raising himself to his full height, he lifted the tip of the blade to his enemy's throat.
"Yield, blackguard." He wiggled his sword impatiently. "Yield, I say!"
"Who are you fighting?" The voice, so close, and yet utterly unexpected, made Alexander start involuntarily. He turned. The girl was sitting on a circular bench beneath a tree, watching him. Her gown was simple and unadorned, but by the very cut and texture of it, Alexander could see that the girl was 'quality.' A large white and grey tomcat, whose fur she was gently stroking, lay curled beside her. Alexander was so taken aback by the intrusion into his battle, that he simply stared at her. She smiled, as if understanding.
"I'm sorry if I startled you," She said. "I often sit here beneath this tree during the afternoon. The people who pass interest me."
There was another moment of silence in which the only sounds audible were Alexander's still-heavy breathing and the low drone of the cat's purring.
"Who were you fighting?" She asked again.
He drew himself up again to answer, "The enemies of the King." He replied with as much grandness and pride as he could muster, flustered as he was by the girl's interruption.
She nodded, smiling still, which irritated Alexander's warrior sensibilities. "You are a very brave knight," she said admiringly. Needless to say, this statement considerably bolstered Alexander, and he smiled now too, though his eyes were now gazing intently at his feet and the point of his sword between them instead of at the girl.
"A 'brave knight'? Fah!"
This interruption was much more offensive, and, if possible, even less expected than the first. Anton, Alexander's one real, flesh-and-blood, opponent, came striding across the square, smirking at Alexander. The girl's head turned slightly, toward the sound of the approaching footsteps, but her eyes did not leave Alexander. "When was the last time you drew your sword in defense of His Majesty and his interests, Anton?" She asked gently, but loud enough for the walking ego to hear as he drew near. He frowned at her, and then at Alexander. "I have more important things to do than play act!" He viciously directed the last words in Alexander's direction.
"Oh." The girl replied simply.
Anton seemed to be taken aback by the nature of the response. Apparently he had expected more, or perhaps less.
"I am a squire to a knight," he proclaimed, "and I'll be one myself, long before this little man ever gets out of the kitchen!"
Alexander was bristling, fairly shuddering with shame and rage, but unsure what to do. Anton must have noticed the spasmodic jerks of his sword hand, for he smiled mockingly and raised his empty hands, palms up, as if to say, "You don't dare try and fight me, little knight - I have no weapon, and what sort of chivalry would that be?"
"Perhaps," the girl's voice snapped, as effortlessly as if it had been a piece of taut string between a pair of shears, through the tension between the two boys. "Perhaps, Anton, but you must admit there was a time not so very long ago, when you were as enthusiastically in the King's service as this brave boy is now. Has your reality taken away your fervor?"
Anton stood silent for a few moments, while the girl waited patiently, letting the cat, who had rolled onto its back during this discourse, play with her hand. After the brief silence, Anton simply stalked away.
As soon as Alexander lost sight of him around the corner, the girl smiled again, and beckoned to him. "Come closer, brave knight."
As he approached her, he guessed that she was probably a year or two younger than himself. Her eyes were large and blue, her golden hair long and braided. When he was in front of her, she indicated the place beside her and, after a moment of hesitation, Alexander seated himself. He was of that age when boys shy away from girls; for what reason, they themselves do not even fully understand. However, Alexander was of an outgoing nature as well, and was not as petrified of the fairer sex as some. The girl smiled, and turned in his direction, but their eyes did not meet.
"What does your sword look like?"
Alexander's mouth actually dropped open, but he willed it closed again. It was hardly polite to leave it hanging wide like a cod's on market day. He eyed the crude wooden implement in his hands, not quite sure how to reply. It was right in front of the girl, so what prompted such a question. She seemed to know what he was thinking and added almost apologetically, "I know the shape of a sword, but great knights often have very unique ones."
A flash of understanding brought a slight scowl to Alexander's. The girl's condescension was not appreciated. He had no delusions about his sword, it was but wood and nails, with uncountable dents and scratches along the length of it. He was not such a child to be imagining a grand sword out of a piece of battered oak.
"It's just wood, miss." He was looking away now, trying to contain his irritation, and also beginning to feel strange under the girl's eyes. "Just for practice."
"I know." The soft smile was again turned toward him, "but do you not have a dream of having your own sword when you are a knight?"
He turned to look her full in the face. Her unblinking smile drove his eyes away from hers. He felt himself start to squirm, his boyish shyness suddenly falling on him full force. "Y-yes, I mean, I suppose I do..." He stammered, wondering how to politely get away.
"What is your name?" Asked the girl.
"Alexander."
"Ah, The Defender." The girl nodded. "Your parents chose well."
"Would they had." Alexander managed to choke out.
The girl's face clouded, and she looked away. "What?"
"My Aunt named me. My parents are...are." He stopped and looked away himself. After a moment he stood, slowly wiping the corner of his eye.
"I'm sorry."
Alexander looked back at the girl and started. She was looking at the place beside her on the bench where he had been sitting, and her hand was slowly moving out, he guessed, in quest of his. He slowly sat back down, staring at her with strange fascination. Her gaze did not waver, though her brow began to furrow. Slowly, he slid out his right hand until the tips of their fingers touched on the bench. The girl took hold of his hand gently. "I'm sorry," she repeated, and at the same time, Alexander raised his left hand and passed it slowly in front of her face. Her eyes did not blink, nor did they follow the path of his hand. He gasped.
"What is it?" She asked quickly, her head turning swiftly.
"Your...your..." Alexander gulped and blurted: "Your eyes!"
"Oh...!" The girl turned away, her hands moving to hide her eyes. Alexander reached out quickly and caught them, however. The girl slowly turned back to him as he gently pulled her hands from her face.
"Your eyes are..." His voice caught in his throat. He hadn't meant to hurt her, and the guilt he would have felt otherwise was increased tenfold by the realization of her disadvantage. She couldn't help it that she was blind. He could not imagine the difficulty she must have endured without her sight. The thousand and one things he saw and took for granted every single day, an which had never made her heart glad. The girl's blue eyes stared at him, the corners glistening slightly with tears. Although he knew she could not see him, her eyes were... "beautiful. Your eyes are beautiful, miss." He finally whispered breathlessly.
...To be continued...
Sunday, June 26, 2011
On 'The Rite', Satan, Faith, and the Power of God
"Choosing not to believe in the devil won't protect you from him." - Anthony Hopkins as Father Lucas Trevant
Wow. Just finished watching The Rite*. When the first promotional material appeared online, I saw the poster and didn't even watch the trailer. There was the title: 'The Rite', there was a lurking darkness, there was Anthony Hopkins' unreadable eyes staring from within the shape of a cross. I wasn't interested. My impression was of yet another supernatural horror film, (there had seemed to be several which had appeared in the last year or so.) It wasn't until some time later, when I headed over to Focus on the Family's review site, (www.pluggedinonline.com) to find a review for a different film entirely, that I saw that there was a review for The Rite. The few short sentences next to the poster intrigued me, and I grudgingly started reading the review. The farther I read, the more interested I became. This did not seem to be the film I had anticipated.
So I finally watched it tonight. Inspired by true events, the film opens with a young man, one Michael Kovak (Colin O'Donoghue), working as a mortician alongside his father. Michael says his choice in life is to be a mortician or a priest, and although he is hardly a believer, he gladly leaves his father's business to pursue the second option. After four years of seminary school, however, he informs his father superior (Toby Jones) that he does not feel he can take his vows because of his lack of spiritual foundation. The father, who sees in Michael a very promising candidate for the priesthood, does not forward the message to his own superiors, but instead sends Michael to Rome to attend a course on exorcism at the Vatican. He thinks this will dispel Michael's disbelief. The young man's doubts persist, however, as he continues to maintain that a psychological explanation is still possible. "Do you believe in sin?" The instructor of the class, Father Xavier (Ciaran Hinds) asks him. "Yes," Michael responds, "I just don't believe the devil makes us do it." Xavier tells him to pay a visit to an old friend, Father Lucas (Anthony Hopkins), a seasoned exorcist; assuring Michael that Lucas will be happy to oblige him with the evidence he desires.
The two don't exactly start off on the right foot. "You don't like cats?" Standing in the middle of Lucas' courtyard swarming with felines, Michael sheepishly responds, "Not particularly." Father Lucas greets his guest with "Welcome to Rome - it's infested with cats." As it turns out, though, the cats are the least of Michael's worries. He soon meets Rosaria, a pregnant 16-year old who suffers from demon-possession. The first exorcism rite Michael witnesses does not part him from his skepticism. He argues that the young woman "doesn't need a priest, she needs a shrink." Father Lucas counters with the quote I began my post with. When a thief or a burglar breaks in, he says, does he turn on the light? Of course not! He prefers you to believe he's not there. Michael's unbelief begins to weaken, however, as he himself is drawn into a deadly serious spiritual assault. In the end, it is through the power of God alone that he is able to defeat the evil forces at work.
Although most of us have never witnessed the types of things portrayed in the movie, the truth of Satan's existence and methods are very clearly laid down. I believe it was C. S. Lewis that said that the devil would rather you think he doesn't exist, or better yet, that he is what he is often portrayed as, a naughty, red, goat-y prankster. He doesn't want us to take God's warning to heart - that he's "a lion, seeking whom he may devour." He's also a - the - deceiver. The accuser. The father of lies.
Now, while the devil's work on earth does take up a lot of screen - and plot - time, the film does not neglect the solely effective power of God in liberation from sin and the devil. The final exorcism scene of the film, in which Michael is forced to take on his demon-possessed mentor, dramatically illustrates how speaking God's name, commanding in the name of Jesus, with the faith to believe that He will do that which we ask, unleashes untold fathoms of God's power. That last bit is important. It's not the rite that drives out the demon. As Michael discovers after his first attempt to oust a demon, "It's not just the words." It's God alone working through a Christian's faith, in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritūs Sancti.
There are a few things I don't agree with the movie about, and I may discover more in future, but on the whole, I found it to be a very impressive portrayal of the very real conflict which is constantly being waged around us, and which we very often don't think about.
"Faith becomes you. Stick with it. Keep fighting the good fight with all thy might." - Anthony Hopkins as Father Lucas Trevant
* The Rite is rated PG-13 for "disturbing thematic material, violence, frightening images, and language including sexual references." I would only recommend the film to mature, discerning viewers, who can understand the content, as well as appreciate the message. While this is not a 'horror film,' Satan's work (to kill and destroy) is an ugly and horrible business, and The Rite does not shy away from giving us a taste of that work.
Wow. Just finished watching The Rite*. When the first promotional material appeared online, I saw the poster and didn't even watch the trailer. There was the title: 'The Rite', there was a lurking darkness, there was Anthony Hopkins' unreadable eyes staring from within the shape of a cross. I wasn't interested. My impression was of yet another supernatural horror film, (there had seemed to be several which had appeared in the last year or so.) It wasn't until some time later, when I headed over to Focus on the Family's review site, (www.pluggedinonline.com) to find a review for a different film entirely, that I saw that there was a review for The Rite. The few short sentences next to the poster intrigued me, and I grudgingly started reading the review. The farther I read, the more interested I became. This did not seem to be the film I had anticipated.
So I finally watched it tonight. Inspired by true events, the film opens with a young man, one Michael Kovak (Colin O'Donoghue), working as a mortician alongside his father. Michael says his choice in life is to be a mortician or a priest, and although he is hardly a believer, he gladly leaves his father's business to pursue the second option. After four years of seminary school, however, he informs his father superior (Toby Jones) that he does not feel he can take his vows because of his lack of spiritual foundation. The father, who sees in Michael a very promising candidate for the priesthood, does not forward the message to his own superiors, but instead sends Michael to Rome to attend a course on exorcism at the Vatican. He thinks this will dispel Michael's disbelief. The young man's doubts persist, however, as he continues to maintain that a psychological explanation is still possible. "Do you believe in sin?" The instructor of the class, Father Xavier (Ciaran Hinds) asks him. "Yes," Michael responds, "I just don't believe the devil makes us do it." Xavier tells him to pay a visit to an old friend, Father Lucas (Anthony Hopkins), a seasoned exorcist; assuring Michael that Lucas will be happy to oblige him with the evidence he desires.
The two don't exactly start off on the right foot. "You don't like cats?" Standing in the middle of Lucas' courtyard swarming with felines, Michael sheepishly responds, "Not particularly." Father Lucas greets his guest with "Welcome to Rome - it's infested with cats." As it turns out, though, the cats are the least of Michael's worries. He soon meets Rosaria, a pregnant 16-year old who suffers from demon-possession. The first exorcism rite Michael witnesses does not part him from his skepticism. He argues that the young woman "doesn't need a priest, she needs a shrink." Father Lucas counters with the quote I began my post with. When a thief or a burglar breaks in, he says, does he turn on the light? Of course not! He prefers you to believe he's not there. Michael's unbelief begins to weaken, however, as he himself is drawn into a deadly serious spiritual assault. In the end, it is through the power of God alone that he is able to defeat the evil forces at work.
Although most of us have never witnessed the types of things portrayed in the movie, the truth of Satan's existence and methods are very clearly laid down. I believe it was C. S. Lewis that said that the devil would rather you think he doesn't exist, or better yet, that he is what he is often portrayed as, a naughty, red, goat-y prankster. He doesn't want us to take God's warning to heart - that he's "a lion, seeking whom he may devour." He's also a - the - deceiver. The accuser. The father of lies.
Now, while the devil's work on earth does take up a lot of screen - and plot - time, the film does not neglect the solely effective power of God in liberation from sin and the devil. The final exorcism scene of the film, in which Michael is forced to take on his demon-possessed mentor, dramatically illustrates how speaking God's name, commanding in the name of Jesus, with the faith to believe that He will do that which we ask, unleashes untold fathoms of God's power. That last bit is important. It's not the rite that drives out the demon. As Michael discovers after his first attempt to oust a demon, "It's not just the words." It's God alone working through a Christian's faith, in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritūs Sancti.
There are a few things I don't agree with the movie about, and I may discover more in future, but on the whole, I found it to be a very impressive portrayal of the very real conflict which is constantly being waged around us, and which we very often don't think about.
"Faith becomes you. Stick with it. Keep fighting the good fight with all thy might." - Anthony Hopkins as Father Lucas Trevant
* The Rite is rated PG-13 for "disturbing thematic material, violence, frightening images, and language including sexual references." I would only recommend the film to mature, discerning viewers, who can understand the content, as well as appreciate the message. While this is not a 'horror film,' Satan's work (to kill and destroy) is an ugly and horrible business, and The Rite does not shy away from giving us a taste of that work.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
"Da." Definitely, "Da."
Wow, somehow in the past week, Russian folk songs performed by choir and orchestra have nearly become the staple of my listening library. How did this happen? Well, there are probably any number of ways that it could have happened, but I'll tell you that my first taste of this powerful, dramatic, sometimes melancholy, sometimes crazily joyous phenomenon nearly ten years ago.
Kind of a sampling:
It was the evening of February 19th, 2002. There I was, 11 years old, sitting with my family near the back of the upper deck of E.J Thomas Hall. The place was packed, if my memory serves me right. I think I can safely say I had no idea what to expect. But what I got blew me away. It has to have been the best Tuesday Musical concert I ever went to...part of that I think is that there has never been another one like it in any respect. What concert was it? Red Star: Red Army Chorus and Dance Ensemble, (Now called the Alexandrov Ensemble,) the official army choir of the Russian army. So that was then.
Now, after those several years, just last week, for some reason, I can't even remember what prompted me, but I just decided to look up Red Star Red Army on Youtube and see what I found. The first full song I found was Kalinka, performed by the chorus and the tenor Vasily Shtefutsa.
I definitely recommend checking him out. :)
And, well, now I'm hooked. Our Red Star Red Army video is actually on loan, and I'm looking forward to getting it back to watch it! In the meantime, any time I spend on Youtube is employed with finding new RSRAC songs. :)
The emotion and skill of the soloists and the chorus is completely engaging, and athleticism and sheer energy of the dancers is staggering.
An example of the dancing:
And a few of my favorite songs:
Leonid Kharitonov is so entertaining in this performance!
Some others:
"Regimental Polka"
"Wait For Your Soldier"
"Brave Don Cossacks"
"Swallow"
and "On the March."
I just love the enthusiasm, the joy, the excitement, that their performances are full of. (Speaking from my own single experience as well as what I've heard from others and reviews I've seen. Apparently I haven't been the only one who got blown away. :))
If they come back to the US on tour, I'd definitely go and see them again...I'll be keeping an eye out...:) Until then, however, I'll content myself with listening and watching online. :D I also have a cd out from the library, which I have been very much enjoying.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Hello, Beautiful.
My new machine, The Janome 6300! I have been VERY pleased with it so far! I look forward to a long and good working relationship with it. :)
*(I have become aware that my blog post title with the post deleted came across as being a little weird. :) So I thought I should put the post back. The reason I originally deleted it, was because the picture was too big, and I didn't want to take the time to find another or format it.)
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Song of the Week: 'Stir'
Song: Stir
Artist: Downhere
Album: Wide-Eyed and Mystified
You belong here, everyone's invited
You can't fail here, 'cause we can't fail united
It's safe to be yourself here
And it's time to go beyond here
We've got life to give,
So why don't we do what we we're saved for
Come along, why don't we stir?
You know you and I could do so much more together
We are the new at heart, so why don't we stir?
We are strong here, but weakness is for certain
To show our love here, we share each other's burdens
We don't mind,''cause there is nothing left to fear
And Love divine is calling us out from here...
We are salting, lighting
We refresh like raining
We are love remaining
And we've got...
"Wherefore I put thee in remembrance that thou stir up the gift of God, which is in thee by the putting on of my hands. For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." 2 Timothy 1:6-7 KJV
Artist: Downhere
Album: Wide-Eyed and Mystified
You belong here, everyone's invited
You can't fail here, 'cause we can't fail united
It's safe to be yourself here
And it's time to go beyond here
We've got life to give,
So why don't we do what we we're saved for
Come along, why don't we stir?
You know you and I could do so much more together
We are the new at heart, so why don't we stir?
We are strong here, but weakness is for certain
To show our love here, we share each other's burdens
We don't mind,''cause there is nothing left to fear
And Love divine is calling us out from here...
We are salting, lighting
We refresh like raining
We are love remaining
And we've got...
"Wherefore I put thee in remembrance that thou stir up the gift of God, which is in thee by the putting on of my hands. For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." 2 Timothy 1:6-7 KJV
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