Sunday, November 1, 2015
Sunday, June 7, 2015
Hidden Feelings
It was once funny,
I could laugh about it,
I could brush it aside and move on,
Now it's a rain cloud tormenting my soul.
Imagination goes to far,
It floats high above the atmosphere,
In a canopy of color.
I don't know why,
You have to play with my eyes,
The picture was so perfect,
I never could have created it,
The black horse,
The clouds rushing down from the mountains,
Their fingers about to overtake you,
Consume your ink-dipped horse,
Carry you away into the emerald foliage,
That surrounds.
Each color was wonderful,
The landscape was your fortress,
Your realm,
One moment I looked,
Though all was unnerving on its own,
You appeared and my heart was gone.
Now I struggle with an inexpiable longing,
The visual aspect of you riding,
Took me somewhere far away,
I am a fool,
But I once dreamed of something as untouchable as this.
Don't come back and spoil my picture,
It might break my thought of you,
The blue-gray mountains caressing the fields,
You stand in the middle,
A black figure on my imagination.
By Cameo Hockenberry
I could laugh about it,
I could brush it aside and move on,
Now it's a rain cloud tormenting my soul.
Imagination goes to far,
It floats high above the atmosphere,
In a canopy of color.
I don't know why,
You have to play with my eyes,
The picture was so perfect,
I never could have created it,
The black horse,
The clouds rushing down from the mountains,
Their fingers about to overtake you,
Consume your ink-dipped horse,
Carry you away into the emerald foliage,
That surrounds.
Each color was wonderful,
The landscape was your fortress,
Your realm,
One moment I looked,
Though all was unnerving on its own,
You appeared and my heart was gone.
Now I struggle with an inexpiable longing,
The visual aspect of you riding,
Took me somewhere far away,
I am a fool,
But I once dreamed of something as untouchable as this.
Don't come back and spoil my picture,
It might break my thought of you,
The blue-gray mountains caressing the fields,
You stand in the middle,
A black figure on my imagination.
By Cameo Hockenberry
Summertime Wonders
Ahhhh, it's beautiful. The dark night of winter has fled into the sky. The cold that once held the earth captive has disappeared into the sky. The aspen trees are a brilliant green and Longs Peak makes my jaw drop every day. It seems that the mountains are always changing and finding ways to appeal to one's senses. I love how all the water trickles in small streams around the rocks. The current is like the rich flow of precious stones. Sometimes I just have to stop and stare at the cliffs that once seemed so forlorn and icy during the winter. The Rocky Mountains are changing into a welcome array of visual treats, and the warmth of the sun has left me with a bright sunburn. I love it all.
So far, this summer is wonderful. It is just the change that I needed. I have moved out, started working 8 hours a day (verses 8 hours of school a day) and my mind and heart are content. I praise God for all the new changes and blessings. As the weather warms, so does my heart. I have discovered so much in just a few weeks and I can't wait for every morning to start (though I do get tired!).
So far, this summer is wonderful. It is just the change that I needed. I have moved out, started working 8 hours a day (verses 8 hours of school a day) and my mind and heart are content. I praise God for all the new changes and blessings. As the weather warms, so does my heart. I have discovered so much in just a few weeks and I can't wait for every morning to start (though I do get tired!).
Saturday, May 9, 2015
The Making of a Wrangler
Watch me. Watch me. I am tired, there is mud on my jeans and in my hair. My makeup wore off hours ago. There are three horses pawing in the barn and mine went sour as soon as we got out on the trail. Still, people are watching. They are watching me. Expectant of a good time and admiring the mountains. I serve them even if it involves getting down and dirty and working till my finger nails bleed.
So here it is. My dream come true and I tremble with the thought of it. At one time, I visited guest ranch websites every day and my thoughts were filled with images of taking out rides and absorbing the mountain air. I was young and attracted to the "romance" of working as a wrangler. This included the horses, the amazing rides, and yes.....Even the cowboys. However, life takes unexpected turns and with those turns my dream got a little dimmer. I was stressed and agitated and my romantic ideas got pushed to the back of my head.
Now, here it is and I have come to the verge of understanding the responsibility that is about to weigh on my shoulders. I cannot fully comprehend what will happen this summer and what I will take on, but let it come. Let my dream arrive with all the good and all the bad. Open the gates and send me the best and the worst guests. Let me show them the compassion and love of a wrangler that is willing to serve. The wrangler that dreamed about ranch life as a kid. It is time to put the turmoil of last summer and fall behind me. I want my mind completely focused on the blessing of this job and sweetness of summer and the new beginning that welcomes me. I am going to give my everything.... I want the dirt to fly and I want to drop any fear that holds me. I wanna ride. Bring it.
I hope that at the end of the summer I will have something beautiful to report. If I do not have time to blog, then picture me exhausted, but burning with the passion for the dream job that has arrived at my doorstep. I will be embracing all the romance and all the tough stuff that each wrangler understands. I hope that each guest will notice something extra special about me and my attitude.
Put on the hat. Lets ride.
So here it is. My dream come true and I tremble with the thought of it. At one time, I visited guest ranch websites every day and my thoughts were filled with images of taking out rides and absorbing the mountain air. I was young and attracted to the "romance" of working as a wrangler. This included the horses, the amazing rides, and yes.....Even the cowboys. However, life takes unexpected turns and with those turns my dream got a little dimmer. I was stressed and agitated and my romantic ideas got pushed to the back of my head.
Now, here it is and I have come to the verge of understanding the responsibility that is about to weigh on my shoulders. I cannot fully comprehend what will happen this summer and what I will take on, but let it come. Let my dream arrive with all the good and all the bad. Open the gates and send me the best and the worst guests. Let me show them the compassion and love of a wrangler that is willing to serve. The wrangler that dreamed about ranch life as a kid. It is time to put the turmoil of last summer and fall behind me. I want my mind completely focused on the blessing of this job and sweetness of summer and the new beginning that welcomes me. I am going to give my everything.... I want the dirt to fly and I want to drop any fear that holds me. I wanna ride. Bring it.
I hope that at the end of the summer I will have something beautiful to report. If I do not have time to blog, then picture me exhausted, but burning with the passion for the dream job that has arrived at my doorstep. I will be embracing all the romance and all the tough stuff that each wrangler understands. I hope that each guest will notice something extra special about me and my attitude.
Put on the hat. Lets ride.
Saturday, April 11, 2015
Musical Extravaganza
There is nothing like a musical. The notes that cascade out to an awestruck audience, the melody that carries thoughts, the beat that sends the heart pounding in a fit of wonder. An actor stands before a crowd, reciting his lines and yet his mind is running through the song that will escape from his lips in a moment. Anxiously, he awaits the cue, counting each beat as his heart pounds wildly. He knows that he will have to calm his voice to keep it from quavering. Suddenly, he is concentrating on the melody and the meaning of the words. His song takes flight and echos across the walls into his soul, absorbing the lyrics and sensing the emotion. This is the essence of a musical, the ability to say the lines of conversation, while listening to the music.
Arguably, musicals take just as much work, if not more than a regular performance. If there are dance numbers involved, the effort is an extreme test of mental and physical stamina . The challenge of bringing a musical together is perhaps the very definition of the words “theater”, “performance”, and “star”. Before it becomes a hit, a musical is practiced and practiced and practiced. Until those involved are suffering from a hoarse voice, too many late nights, a weakened immune system, and the songs they sing on “repeat” in their head. A person lives and breaths music. This is the “nitty-gritty” stuff that separates the partially devoted from the truly passionate people. The sweat, the blood, and the sour notes.
Musicals capture the morals of a story in song. Actors have to temporally separate themselves from the real world and dive into the kaleidoscope of song. If actors do not feel the essence of a song, they cannot transmit the emotions prescribed in the musical to the audience. A musical is giving everything, and holding nothing back to belt out those high notes or mystify with the low, reverberating ones. This is the magic of it. The pulling of the audience or viewers into another place, another time, or just into the song.
Duets are even more of challenge as they match voices and looks with the emotions of a couple. Again, if the performers do not feel anything for that split second on stage, the lyrics will bounce off the audience's ears and into the empty hollow of the actor's voice. Further, multiple voices in a group will pull hidden talent from each individual and into the lime light. Musicals provide the chance for everyone to shine.
Pictured are some of my favorite musicals. The ones that have captured my heart and sent me home singing. Before anyone faints at the sight of High School Musical, let me say that it started off as an after-school project. The effort that each person put in is obvious. It shows in the polished songs that reflect each person's gift. Further, too many of “stick to the status quo”! Anyway, not to jump off subject.
Les Miserables- Perhaps the most fantastic, as I cannot imagine singing every word for that long. The loyal of heart triumph even over death.
Phantom of the Opera-A scarred reflection is no reason to jump away. Love knows no boundaries.
An American in Paris- Incredible combination of dance and song. Every second of the 40 minute ballet was entertaining. I never yawned.
South Pacific-Do we judge people because society taught us how?
My Fair Lady-Bias is changed to love in its “loverly-iest” form.
Arguably, musicals take just as much work, if not more than a regular performance. If there are dance numbers involved, the effort is an extreme test of mental and physical stamina . The challenge of bringing a musical together is perhaps the very definition of the words “theater”, “performance”, and “star”. Before it becomes a hit, a musical is practiced and practiced and practiced. Until those involved are suffering from a hoarse voice, too many late nights, a weakened immune system, and the songs they sing on “repeat” in their head. A person lives and breaths music. This is the “nitty-gritty” stuff that separates the partially devoted from the truly passionate people. The sweat, the blood, and the sour notes.
Musicals capture the morals of a story in song. Actors have to temporally separate themselves from the real world and dive into the kaleidoscope of song. If actors do not feel the essence of a song, they cannot transmit the emotions prescribed in the musical to the audience. A musical is giving everything, and holding nothing back to belt out those high notes or mystify with the low, reverberating ones. This is the magic of it. The pulling of the audience or viewers into another place, another time, or just into the song.
Duets are even more of challenge as they match voices and looks with the emotions of a couple. Again, if the performers do not feel anything for that split second on stage, the lyrics will bounce off the audience's ears and into the empty hollow of the actor's voice. Further, multiple voices in a group will pull hidden talent from each individual and into the lime light. Musicals provide the chance for everyone to shine.
Pictured are some of my favorite musicals. The ones that have captured my heart and sent me home singing. Before anyone faints at the sight of High School Musical, let me say that it started off as an after-school project. The effort that each person put in is obvious. It shows in the polished songs that reflect each person's gift. Further, too many of “stick to the status quo”! Anyway, not to jump off subject.
Les Miserables- Perhaps the most fantastic, as I cannot imagine singing every word for that long. The loyal of heart triumph even over death.
Phantom of the Opera-A scarred reflection is no reason to jump away. Love knows no boundaries.
An American in Paris- Incredible combination of dance and song. Every second of the 40 minute ballet was entertaining. I never yawned.
South Pacific-Do we judge people because society taught us how?
My Fair Lady-Bias is changed to love in its “loverly-iest” form.
Friday, April 10, 2015
Let Me
Let me alone,
Just for the moment,
So I may sit in the air,
Feel its cold burn my face,
Let its icy fingers caress my lungs,
May the snow catch my hair.
Let me absorb the horizons,
May they call me far, far away,
As I dream of distant places,
Let me dream.
Let me watch the mist on the mountain,
As the texture and dimension of the sky,
Carries me far beyond,
To the outline of the hills so dark.
Let me imagine,
That someone sees me,
One who writes a poem,
Of the person they see,
Who wishes they knew the real me,
Let them see.
Let me feel the pull on my heart,
Let me be free as I rise.......
Just for the moment,
So I may sit in the air,
Feel its cold burn my face,
Let its icy fingers caress my lungs,
May the snow catch my hair.
Let me absorb the horizons,
May they call me far, far away,
As I dream of distant places,
Let me dream.
Let me watch the mist on the mountain,
As the texture and dimension of the sky,
Carries me far beyond,
To the outline of the hills so dark.
Let me imagine,
That someone sees me,
One who writes a poem,
Of the person they see,
Who wishes they knew the real me,
Let them see.
Let me feel the pull on my heart,
Let me be free as I rise.......
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
As Tough As Rocky
Blood pours from his nose. His eyes are so swollen that it is a wonder that he can see. No matter how many times I watch them, the Rocky movies never get old. I have heard many people say that they are just a repeat of the same story. The story just changes a little bit and, guess who wins? Rocky Balboa, of course! However, I could never think that way about the movies that have come to mean so much more than just watching some boxing.
Rocky starts off on the rough side of life. The side where surviving is a challenge and doing the bad things always seem to pay more than the “honest” way of life. He saunters through life with his heavy accent and gets mad when anyone calls him a “bum”, which seems like a pathetic insult to anyone living today. He has not tried anything too risky, but a good dose of caution comes from living on the streets. There is only so far that a person can go before things get ugly. He does not recognize the passion or the talent underneath his leather jacket and white t-shirt. He is okay where he's at and there is nothing wrong with that. Still, he tends to notice the beauty of simple things whether he knows it or not. This can be seen in his choice of pets or the girl he is in love with.
Finally, the saga begins. One event changes his life forever. He has the invitation to fight a champion and the experience will rocket him from a “bum” to one of the greatest fighters of all time. We get to watch Rocky as he goes through life and continually wavers between retiring and taking on a challenge even bigger than the one before it. He marries, buys a house, and looses it. Has a son, but eventually looses his wife. His son grows, but becomes distant. All the while Rocky fights and fights hard.
Usually, the plot of each movie is set up so that the present challenge seems more formidable or very near impossible when compared to the last. Once again, critics may call out-Guess who will win? Just take a moment. Picture yourself in that boxing ring. Blood is pouring from your nose, your lungs feel as if they will explode, you can barely see, and several of your teeth have been smashed in. Rocky bears a symbolic resemblance to life. I have led a life that is different from most of my friends, or different as far as I can see. We all have hard things in life, but they seem to be essentially different from what others have experienced around us. When we find someone that has been through a similar situation, only then can we truly relate. I know what it is like to stand in the face of life's blows and think- I will never get up, things will never change, people may never accept me. I'm through. I'm through with the pain, the heartache, and the crap that I have to take. I'm done. No more hits, no more pain .Take away this obstacle or I am going to jump out of the ring. Game over. Life is not perfect. It was not created that way. Some days I am not sure if it is a good idea to try again, because as Rocky once was, I am afraid. I get so sick of being hurt that it starts to ingrain fear in me. Fear of the next hit coming my way.
My story is not new. After all, somebody already wrote the Rocky screenplay. They understood that fear can cause a person to stay in the same environment or routine. However, they also knew that beneath the fear is the willingness to fight for the good. Sometimes I am hit so hard that all I can see is my opponent above me, smiling. Then I hear a voice whisper and say- “I didn't hear no bell......” So I stand again, and each time I gain a little bit more of the heart to take on the next fight. Just like Rocky.
Rocky starts off on the rough side of life. The side where surviving is a challenge and doing the bad things always seem to pay more than the “honest” way of life. He saunters through life with his heavy accent and gets mad when anyone calls him a “bum”, which seems like a pathetic insult to anyone living today. He has not tried anything too risky, but a good dose of caution comes from living on the streets. There is only so far that a person can go before things get ugly. He does not recognize the passion or the talent underneath his leather jacket and white t-shirt. He is okay where he's at and there is nothing wrong with that. Still, he tends to notice the beauty of simple things whether he knows it or not. This can be seen in his choice of pets or the girl he is in love with.
Finally, the saga begins. One event changes his life forever. He has the invitation to fight a champion and the experience will rocket him from a “bum” to one of the greatest fighters of all time. We get to watch Rocky as he goes through life and continually wavers between retiring and taking on a challenge even bigger than the one before it. He marries, buys a house, and looses it. Has a son, but eventually looses his wife. His son grows, but becomes distant. All the while Rocky fights and fights hard.
Usually, the plot of each movie is set up so that the present challenge seems more formidable or very near impossible when compared to the last. Once again, critics may call out-Guess who will win? Just take a moment. Picture yourself in that boxing ring. Blood is pouring from your nose, your lungs feel as if they will explode, you can barely see, and several of your teeth have been smashed in. Rocky bears a symbolic resemblance to life. I have led a life that is different from most of my friends, or different as far as I can see. We all have hard things in life, but they seem to be essentially different from what others have experienced around us. When we find someone that has been through a similar situation, only then can we truly relate. I know what it is like to stand in the face of life's blows and think- I will never get up, things will never change, people may never accept me. I'm through. I'm through with the pain, the heartache, and the crap that I have to take. I'm done. No more hits, no more pain .Take away this obstacle or I am going to jump out of the ring. Game over. Life is not perfect. It was not created that way. Some days I am not sure if it is a good idea to try again, because as Rocky once was, I am afraid. I get so sick of being hurt that it starts to ingrain fear in me. Fear of the next hit coming my way.
My story is not new. After all, somebody already wrote the Rocky screenplay. They understood that fear can cause a person to stay in the same environment or routine. However, they also knew that beneath the fear is the willingness to fight for the good. Sometimes I am hit so hard that all I can see is my opponent above me, smiling. Then I hear a voice whisper and say- “I didn't hear no bell......” So I stand again, and each time I gain a little bit more of the heart to take on the next fight. Just like Rocky.
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