Friday, May 30, 2008
I picked a leaf from a tree. It hasn't dried out yet.
"Do all you can do." A note that Vincent Layton had scribbled the day he found out he is losing his mind. Red ink on a blue Post It note and jammed in his levi's pocket. He was on a high which was unusual for the situation. So what if the doctor had also diagnosed Vincent's grandfather. So what if Vincent's grandfather turns up lost every few weeks. He's always been found. Besides Vincent is only 29 and he has a four year old daughter who needs him. There is no reason for him to be afraid of anything. He has things to do.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Echos this empty room.
No emotion
film black and white
embraced by love
so shaken
reason becomes confusion
still visions of laughter
echos this empty room
*written by Matthew Renaud
Friday, May 16, 2008
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Beautiful Saviour
Beautiful Saviour
You are my love,
Creator of my heart
I gave you to hold
I give you my life
forever more
and with this day
only you I will serve
So take my hand
and lead me
along side your footsteps
so I might live forever
in You.
**written by my brother Matthew Renaud**
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Encounter Service at Summit
Me, Shane and Jeremy are heading up this service at Summit Foursquare Church in Longmont Colorado. Here is our promotional poster for the first of June. This particular message has to do with "A Backwards kingdom." Hitting on things such as young adult christian culture and the relationship of that to secular culture.
Poster was done in photoshop with four different photos. The street, the guy, the one way sign, then the space scene. A little blend here, a little blend there.
Faded Memories
**Written and should be heard being performed by my brother Matthew. This is one of my favorite songs. **
I wish I could be there,
'cause somehow I can hear,
your all alone, memories you can't seem to let go.
upon your face, tear drop eyes
looking back on letters of love misplaced
and pretending it was just promises never made.
yeah I see now,
it's coming back to me,
yeah I see now,
you were everything to me.
missing those softly spoken words,
"I love you" passes me by
without a breath to faded dreams,
what will never be of these unforgotten memories.
yeah I see now,
it's coming back to me,
yeah I see now,
you were everything to me.
the beginning and the end has spoken words to me
somehow this gives me peace
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
So you Say.
you try to breathe, your heart is bleeds
it sees it needs more than it can be without me
feeling so dry and exposed,
the weight of your words, spreading to your soul
the lies they lead, they seems to leave
you on your own
what now remains is only this empty mark and trace of what was,
what is, and what will solemnly be faced,
your memories never seemed as black and white, like tonight,
you promised yourself you'd never cry again.
so you said.
you substitute what you thought would only fill
wounds so deep, so empty, so strong they hold you so still,
shell filled illusions of fear and doubt, and stolen emotions
you thought were good as dead,
so you said.
don't let this be the last on your list of regrets,
it's getting longer as time goes on,
it's getting longer it won't be long
till it catches up with your heart,
it won't be long till everything is gone
and your left all alone with a bleeding heart
and your tears will fall farther than ever before,
the floor never seemed so far from the door,
where will you go from here
Monday, May 12, 2008
wow.
filing cabinets made of crappy particle board and wrapped in vinyl oak print. my feet tingle a bit while sitting in office chairs. a mind is a useful wasted thing. flowers that bloom and work their way through snow. a huge condo with ocean views and a seagull. feeling hungry my stomach tells me. forward thinking. this tree has limbs so tiny, so many, it looks like the vascular system of a living thing. flies buzz a bit. thinking hurts sometimes. a cat prowls. lazy ass. don't hit me in the back of the head. this too is a running man. fifth grade bubble gum tattoos are stupid. 949-718-3557. french fries.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Adjusted gasp.
He was walking to work this past tuesday morning which is only a stones throw from his house. That is if you can throw a stone a quarter mile.
With the opening of the front door and a tuned introduction, Lois reminded him of her name. He hated that. Not her name. Names don't annoy him but after two and a half years she still acts like Kasper Rune will forget who she is.
The words boisterous and annoying pop in his mind wrapped in quotation marks. Wrapped rather nicely actually. Like those wrappers that you pull and untwist revealing a creamy caramel. Kasper just loved caramels. He likes the fact that you need to chew a second to loosen what stuck from the first. His dentist on the other hand does not like caramels.
With Mr. Rune's acknowledgment of Lois his foot catches the rug which Lois had excitingly set out this particular morning for patrons to brush the bottom of their shoes on. She had bought it with her own money at the market. A split second was doubled, no, it was tripled in the minds of the onlookers as Rune's satchel catches the door handle changing his momentum and spinning him so he was facing the ceiling. Impulse whispered and he reached out to "boisterous" and "annoying" but failed to catch her hand.
Clarice cherished the moments she had with Kasper each morning. Eggs over easy. Bacon crisp. English muffin buttered and moist but edges crunchy. That's what he made her every morning since that special afternoon when she gave him her heart. He would place her meal in front of her and she would batter her eyes and he would love that. He would even tell her that he loved that. It was their "thank you" and "your welcome." They were more thankful for each other than for the breath they were blessed with. They had their special ways to share this.
The Rune's had one of those phones where you had to spin the dial/wheel and there would be this rhythmic ticking sound while it returned to the starting position waiting for the second, third, seventh spin to complete the call. It was a beige color with a black spiraled chord.
Midmorning that tuesday, Clarice had thought she had heard that beige phone ring but she was in the backroom at the time. The backroom was where her piano was stored. Kasper had bought this piano from the Breehan's who live down on main street next to the library and the towns' rose garden. They had one of those victorian type houses. Pilliars and such. It was a beautiful house. Stark white as if they scrubbed it by hand at the close of each week. The piano was not so beautiful. It was bare. It looked as if it was set outside in the rain for at least a day, maybe two. But Clarice had said it was the best birthday gift she had ever gotten in her whole 26 years. She looked a bit older than her age but was a pretty girl and thought the piano was beautiful in its own little way. It was from her Love.
The phone rang again. This time she could clearly hear it. Somehow though the ring accompanied the song Clarice was playing well and so she let it ring and played on. She was writing a song for her mother who had been admitted to the "crazy house" just months before. They were close. Her and her mother. Now they don't talk. But Clarice prays to her Jesus to save her mother and let her speak again. Kasper had told her that the Lord still performs miracles and Clarice believes that with all her heart. So she prays.
Even now as then Clarice plays her piano everyday. She praises her Jesus for saving her mother and for holding Kasper in place of her own arms.
She loves to cry. It is her way of laughing.
She loves to sing. It is her way of sitting in silence.
She wishes that she had answered the phone to hear her husbands voice one last time.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Finally got an IPOD
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