There’s this song that I’ve sung so many times in church.  I never really thought about the words, I just sung the notes and tried my hardest not to screw it up.  Until recently, I only did that.  I never realized the meaning behind the words or the stroke of the notes.  There was nothing, but empty words to match an empty heart.  The lyrics go like this,”

You make beautiful things,

You make beautiful things out of the dust,

You make beautiful things,

You make beautiful things out of us.”

Those simple words are so powerful.  God does so many things in our lives, some good and some bad, but all of it makes beautiful things.  People will hurt you, scar you, and bend you, but those are the unique things that can change your life.  Let it bend, but not break.  Let it move, but not shake.  Let it warp into something beautiful. 

The beat of the drum rings in your ear and pounds with your heart.  The music is so loud, but we don’t care.  It’s the summer, we have no worries.

The sand between your toes squishes with every step.  The sun is setting and the fire burns hot next to your skin.  We run to the water’s edge, it crashes against our bare feet.  It’s summer, we have no worries.

In the little square, the night is ten times longer than the day.  A gathering of people, unknown in face, dance around us as we make our way to the delicate café. The crowd is full of intense heat, everyone enjoying their time with the strangers.  A drink in hand, we barely hold onto each other.  It’s the summer, we have no worries. 

The water falls from the sky like little bombs, splattering onto my forehead.  You still stand under the canopy, dry and wanting.  You yell for me to come back to you, but I only beckon for you to come to me instead.  You step out and the drops hit you too.  They sting your arms and you wrap them around me.  We spin, too fast and we stumble to the ground.  We lay together, giggling.  It’s the summer, we have no worries.

Through the sun burns and through the sore feet, we will never forget those days. I can still feel the sun beating down on my neck as I walk next to you.  Every day, good or bad, those were the best days of my life.  It was the summer, we had no worries.

uninterrupt:

that bead of sweat. that entire world. he drove with one hand. and one eye. both trained on her. he watched. her hair tumbled. the hood of the car reached. heat sizzled off its surface. it grew longer. missile pointed into the sun. curves taken at speed.

the beach stretched along. soft sand smooth. divots like dimples. she touched her shoulder. hand on wrist curled. fingers plied her straps. ocean lapped at the shore. ocean stretched to the horizon. that bead of sweat. that glowing pearl.

her oversize shades stared into the sun. the road twisted between rocks and sand. her fingers wrapped around fabric. the sun draped her bare shoulder. skin uninterrupted to the swells. shade over the rest. reflections of her eyes. that bead of sweat. that necklace trail.

the expanse of sand widened. the rocks grew closer. the exhaust echoed louder. her breaths came shorter. silhouettes saluted the sun. patches of grass appeared on the beach. she unlatched her belt.

here, she said. he pulled over. she left the door open. that bead of sweat. that twirl of her summer dress.

Life. 

We don’t really think of it being short, it’s the longest thing we’ve ever done.  But the perspective is staggered.  Life really is short.  The thing is, we think we have time. 

Let’s just live.  Jump off that sea-side cliff and splash into the water.  Stay out late.  Dress up a little too much.  Buy the shoes.

acehotel:

This prescription for a life lived all top down and outside the yellow lines made its way into a mezzanine drawer at Ace Hotel Portland and was found by an unsuspecting individual in need of some advice. The exact provenance is something of a mystery — though we believe the 5-step program, if not the transcription, to be the sage advice of a person six years of age, named Lucien. The Advice From Lucien Poster is our first in a series we’re creating in-house and with some of our favorite artists and young philosophers. It’s screenprinted in Portland on 250 gsm stone blue paper in a limited edition of 150. The word so far is it can really help out your life-living game.


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paleprostitute:

Symbols.

Daily travels. Mindless wandering. In the daytime, you notice those ‘Unrecognizable’ differences (that no one else would).The routine of coming home. And the revision of thoughts…about the changing world.

My hometown was once surrounded by fields. Vast dead space. Im reminded of my…

So, this post is kinda, sorta inspired by the song Little Things by One Direction.  I’ve been thinking about it, and don’t let those little things go to waste.  These are the things that make or break your love and your life.  Don’t by pass it, soak it in and let it explode into a world of little, beautiful pieces put together to make a masterpiece.

Some days, I want to break down in tears.  I watch the world and cringe at what I see.  I see hearts torn in two, families broken, and corruption of good people.  These past days have been especially hard, I’m actually falling apart.  It’s like the whole world is crumbling and I’m here with a glue stick trying to paste it back together.  The trick is, don’t let it ruin you.  As my mother told me once, don’t crawl under a rock.  Go out there and paste it back together, one piece at a time.

How would you know how the sand feels in between your toes if you never took off your shoes to try?  How would you know how the wind feels against your face if you never rolled the windows down?  How would you know how to love if you never put yourself out there? 

You wouldn’t.  Put yourself out there, let your hair down, and enjoy.