Ten ~ Distortion

Dear E-----,

       I found the small library in town today, it hasn't a large selection by any means, but it's friendly and contains enough to keep me busy for a good amount of time. The building's a little old, but the interior is pretty simple and new, nothing really interesting, but clearly-marked sections, and, happily, a handful of Oscar Wilde's fairy tales. There are a few computers there, several years old, of course, but capable enough of the basics. So, after about a week's absence, I checked my e-mail, everyone's journals and weblogs, Amnesty International's site (asking them to mail me news instead of e-mail, as Internet capabilities are looking less likely at the house), and the news overall...

       There is so little in the general culture of this world that I need, so little that permeates the media web that's of any real relevance. I miss talking to all of you, but as for the world at large, I can just as easily do without. It's so much more restful, without trying every minute to absorb, assess, and see through the endless conflicting versions and slants on every detail, there's not a thing that can pass through the public eye without some degree of distortion. Intentionally or not, no-one's sight is clear...

       Still, I can't condone complete apathy toward events in the world beyond your own neighborhood, so I get to continue trying to slog my way through rhetoric and spins.

       The sky here has been so blue... that bright, luminescent blue that film can't quite replicate, a color that lifts your soul just by the sight of it. I suppose that's that difference between Man's beauty and God's - God's beauty can give joy like that through the simplest of action and reaction, a joy lined with calm peace. I'm sorry, I don't mean to sink into cliché, but there's such an emotional difference, it's hard to explain... My faith is a pretty abstract thing anyway, so tenuous at times... but I feel it in the skies. There's a purity and a sense of life. When you see the summer sun sending gold warmth through a delicately veined leaf, a green glowing with life, isn't there something your heart reaches for, and rests within? Such a joy in simply living, realizing its irreplacable beauty, proud of its own Creation...

       If only I had a certainty that even resembled that.

       But I suppose I do, at least in brief moments, the clearest I think being when I'm caught up in song, whether playing or singing, all my heart pouring strength and emotion and passion into it.

       But is that God's beauty flowing through me, or am I merely being blinded by pride in human ability?