Painting

The other day during my abnormal psychology class we went to see a lecture that the school was hosting. The lecture was given by a Harvard/MIT graduate, who has also written several novels. During the doctors speech he told a story about how when he was younger he tried to build a rocket, and when it came down to the day of his "launch" for his neighboorhood friends, the launch was successful but the flight was short and not so sweet. It was evident to the doctor that the reason his "flight" failed was because he built his rocket based off of beauty, and not agility. As soon as I heard this tory & the point behind it, something clicked in my head... To me, that rocket represented relationships. You cannot build a relationship based off of typical beauty (and I say typical for a reason which will shortly become clear). You can't build it off of lust and romance. You need to build your relationships off of trust, constructive arguements, communication, and values. If you build your relationship (the rocket) based on the beauty, the lust, and the romance all you will have is a smooth take off... Here's what I mean; in almost every (romantic) relationship the first few months are bliss. It's the beauty, the infatuation with one another, the takeoff of your rocket. And if you built your relationship/rocket off of that trust, those constructive arguements, that communcation and those value... then your rocket, your relationship, will soar even after the bliss of the adrenyline, butterflies-in-your-stomach, take-off. And that is what true beauty in a relationship is, being able to soar calmly through the journey, because you used the right materials to build your rocket. But, if you fail to build off of those things and get caught up in the typical rather than true beauty, your rocket will fly only for a short time after the take-off (the first few months) and then inevitably plummet to the ground, leaving all you worked to build simmering in flames and dissapointment.
I know thats a slightly cynical way to look at it, but it's true. Take a look at any relationship you've had. Think of the rocket... what you used to build it, the take-off, etc. Did you build it off of typical beauty, or agility? Did you soar, or crash?
After taking myself through this analytical journey, another point the doctor made popped into my head; When he was discussing books and literature he said something along the lines of " A book is never finished until it has been totally read by the reader... and it is finished again each time a new reader completes reading it." What he meant by this is that the way a reader interprets what they take in, is different from how another reader may take it in... This point was another I found in great truth because while I interpreted the rocket story as a relationship, another person could interpret the rocket as a life lesson or some other lesson, and compare it to some other aspect of themselves.
Day by day we run into people like the doctor, who open up doors and our eyes to things in life that need to be realized, whether or not they intend to. It's all just a matter of if & how we interpret and analyze it. Life is our canvas, how we blend the paint we are given, and create our colors is all up to us, and solely us...

The Chill of the Sun Sinking Into Your Skin

The city got colder and darker today. I'm not referring to the night, nor am I referring to the temperature. Let me just give you a run through of my day. I woke up, got dressed, got my Caramel Macchiato (as always), and headed my way to run my errands. Made my way to Student Academic Services, along with Student Financial Services, only to let them dissapoint me as usual, but thats not the point. After dropping off my Resident Assistant Acceptance Form (yay!) I decided I was going to make my way over to Planned Parenthood so I can get back on birth control. As I'm walking down Chestnut Street trying to find my way to Planned Parenthood, I see a nurse in her scrubs headed to work. I stop and ask her where in the world the PP building is? She then directs me to where it is and adds on a side note, something among the lines of "Don't look up, stay on the left side of the sidewalk closest to the building, and ignore the people and signs, there will be gaurds outside to let you in." I then headed my way towards the building the woman directed me too, thinking that she was being slightly melodramatic about the signs and such. As I approached the building I saw several security officers, surrounded by several signs on each side of the street across from the building. There were very little protestors, and the ones that were there were not like the type you see on TV. They did not chant, yell, scream, or get violent... but the way they looked at you was strong enough to burn through your body and anyone in the path directly behind you. It wasn't an angry stare, it was that look your mother gives you when you royally screw up. The look where you're not sure what you did, but you know its not good, and you know you're breaking someones heart. As I looked away from the disappointed protestors, I then broke the one rule to myself I made in my head as the nurse warned me... I looked at the signs. Not the signs that Planned Parenthood posts telling you that you have a choice, but the signs that the protestors put out there. The signs with the fetus' compared to a ruler, measuring the child to be less than 4 inches. The blood, the baby, and the sadness. I immediatley looked down in disgust, and continued to the door, the security gaurd then let me into the building as I made a later appointment to return to the building. As I was leaving, one more protestor had made his way over to the doorway. He was holding a clipboard, pamphlets, and a saddened expression upon his aged face, with a cross around his neck. The man then extended his hand to me which grasped a pamphlet, looked me in the eyes, like a sad puppy in need of a home and spoke the words "Let me save you." All I could manage to say is no thank you, and bow my head down as I turned the corner to walk away, and as the Planned Parenthood gaurds proceeded to steer the protestor farther away from the building...
Now I am not telling you this story to steer you away from Planned Parenthood. My story does not end by me saying I later called and cancelled my appointment. I cannot tell you that the protestors changed my view to Pro Life. I cannot tell you that I feel like I need to be "saved" as the man outside so eloquently put it. I'm telling you this story to show you something. To show just how powerful words, pictures, expressions, and pamphlets can be. Protestors may not get their way, or may not change our lives, but they had the power to make me sick, to make me sad, to get beneath my skin. When I bounced my way out of bed and jovially made my way through the dirty streets of providence, under the hazey clouded sky, past the homeless men trudging their way around the streets, I did not expect to be upset. I woke up in an optimistic way about the day. I manage to walk past the cold, sad, aspects of Providence on a daily basis without being effected by its lack of humanity. Yet today I managed to stumble across another aspect of life I've never really seen, but always heard about. It's amazing how sheltered we are. And how we think we know everything because we see it on the news, we read about it, our friends tell us. But its like a Vampire hearing about sunlight, and saying they know all about it. You don't really know until you feel the rays beating down onto you and sinking beneath your pores, and digging deep into your skin, just as the protestors dug into mine.