A Bohemian Storm is Brewing

Love. Music. Food. Travel. Justice. Spirituality. Lit.
I’d rather read this over Fifty Shades of Grey any day. Any. Day.  (Taken with Instagram)

I’d rather read this over Fifty Shades of Grey any day. Any. Day. (Taken with Instagram)

I love breakfast.

I love breakfast.

Aged wood.

Aged wood.

I believe that there is only one story in the world, and only one, that has frightened and inspired us, so that we live in a Pearl White serial of continuing thought and wonder. Humans are caught-in their lives, in their thoughts, in their hungers and ambitions, in their avarice and cruelty, and in their kindness and generosity too-in a net of good and evil.

—John Steinbeck, East of Eden

I don’t stand for the devil, I don’t whisper in ears. I stand on the mountains and call people to hear.

—Laura Marling

Live in sunshine. Swim the Sea. Drink the wild air.


East of Eden

East of Eden. Steinbeck. This novel wounds me. I cannot express how much I absolutely love this novel and the way Steinbeck causes us to explore the dimensions of the human mind. Not only the human mind, but the mind as a result of The Fall. I find myself reading the lives of the Hamiltons and the Trasks whilst opening the pages of Genesis for the true story of the fall and the lives of the first humans on Earth. Again, I am in love with this book because I am fascinated with the exploration of the psyche of men and women. I’m not nearly finished with the novel, but when I am I will be ready for much more of what God wants to reveal to me in His precious word.

Mathare Slums, Nairobi, Kenya 2012

Mathare Slums, Nairobi, Kenya 2012

Her hands were folded at the news desk
Readin the words upon the screen
A smiling introduction
Meets the death of a teen

She stops in mid-sentence
Her eyes, they look away
Thinks, whose words am I reading?
Why were they written this way?

A young man, up and coming
Accepts a job for high pay
Speaks eloquently of nothing
Puts his life on display

Prestige it surrounds him
But he can feel something weigh
Thinks, whose dreams am I living?
How did I end up this way?

Mother sips on a cocktail
The sun hot on her face
Lord always smiled down upon her
She’s never struggled a day

But the mansion feels empty
And she’s just an actress in a play
Thinks, Whose tears am I cryin?
Why am I feelin this way?

Big man on campus
Never travels alone
Stumbles upon a young girl
Dressed in men’s clothes

As they call her a faggot
And they take her pride away
He thinks, whose thoughts am I thinking?
Why am I acting this way?

I’m sitting at the crossroads
Of tomorrow and today
Watching kids told not to question
Brilliant minds washed away

I watch their movements turn awkward
As they are molded like clay
Why are we always pretending?
Why are we living this way?

—Ryan Leimkuhler, The Great Play

California Shuffle