Thoughts while Traveling

4.22.2005

coffee grounds

To create something COMPELTELY original and "new under the sun" is impossible~ so goes the saying. However, I speak as one called to create NOT my own orginal work~ in fact, exactly the opposite. To be a paintbrush, an instrument ~ for my Creator to use. I have been contemplating this lately and have been aided along in the process by one of my amazingly anointed professors as well as my amazingly anointed friends, Phil and Marty. Oh yeah, and my (amazingly anointed??) coffeepot. Wait..before you roll your eyes and click away...

Phil's updated web page talks about this very topic. About being an instrument, NOT (and feel free to add an uppety British accent and a broad gesture here) an "ARTIST." Exactly.

There is a lyric to one of Marty's recent songs that says, (forgive me, darling, if I paraphrase it a tiny bit)

"..what can I say that hasn't already been said...there are no words left to discover, beside you O lord, there is no other..."

And, in class we have been discussing Nehemiah and learning from this story a heck of alot about being vulnerable, transparent, teachable, etc. Gil talks alot about how we need to be constantly taking it all in. As an artist, we must be pouring information into our brains on a regular basis and letting the good stuff filter down to where it needs to go. He lives this out by example~ the man spends 2 hours a day in Barnes and Noble, reading at least one book a week. Becoming more and more stimulated and...inspired. I will add to this that the "good stuff" will take root in our souls so that we may be finely tuned instruments...have you ever heard an out of tune flute, or worse, a cello? Yuck...talk about your teeth hurting. It might as well be replaced with a long fingernail scratching a blackboard. In contrast, however, there is nothing more beautiful than a finely tuned cello piece. Close your eyes and listen...and you will see a deep, lush purple that is better than any drug-induced high. (As for the flute, I hope they don't exist in heaven...they always sound like ice picks to the skull to me~but that's a personal preference issue.)

Now, on to my inspired coffeemaker, which has become a very close friend and comrade in the recent days of weariness. I have (embarassingly), on several occasions, been so asleep that I have forgotten to dump the old grounds out of the filter before attempting to brew a pot of coffee. Alas, what becomes of of my much anticipated cup-of-joe? It looks more like ginger ale than coffee and taste even more horrific. Again, on the flip-side of that is when I AM alert enough to follow the standard procedure of brewing, the desirable sweet aroma that I have hoped for is tantilizing and it starts my morning (or evening) off on a lovely note.

The point is, I have been staring at this machine and realizing that I could easily be producing a watered-down, ginger ale looking product in my life. It's a debiltating temptation to allow this to happen, in fact. And I will go as far as to say that this is sadly what the world expects. For when something TRUE and eternally inspired is presented, we all stand in amazement and almost can't believe it.

What am I putting in my head and my heart? If I am allowing nothing new to enter from the top, how can anything of worth filter down into my soul to be used as an instrument? Am I using recycled coffee grounds?

Are you?
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posted by A. St. at 1:59 PM

1 Comments:

good post.

9:23 AM  

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