Two days pass. They are like one day. They are like five days. Actually, it has been roughly 2.5 days... but who is counting? Could it be quantified, the convention, if I took the time to quantify it in writing?
The qualities of the convention are something special to absorb in-person, though I tried to scrawl some of them into a disintegrating little notebook discarded by a denomination that decided to change logos. I've 'lived' with the Methodists for long enough that I've resigned myself to brand grave-yards, anyway, and I accepted the gift and started playing amateur reporter during the musical performance and keynote speech yesterday. The speaker was eloquent, pointed, and probably operating on a higher level even without his own consent. It is a funny counter-intuitive thing, riding on the Spirit of God. I feel like I do it so seldom, but that is because its a Spirit found in the seat of one's pants when they dive awkwardly into the air and somehow land on all feet. I suppose the musicians were familiar with the feeling-- the idea of 'shape note singing' seemed to me to be an unnecessary leap when we have such wonderful sheet-music to tell us exactly where to go and be safe when we sing. Of course... that's not always the point...
So, the details aren't always what the qualitative is about. There was a workshop on workshops and I got some great advice.
As predicted, though, I can't let two days go by and expect to log them both. So, I get backed-up... trying to live and write both.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Boston 1: Ride the Bird
Push back the dawn with blinds...
Keep the morning tea off my tie:
a short ride from Lansing to Detroit
and I'm going up in another bird--this one is for Boston
This one is for the future for which I hope--
"...get the heck out of there..." I must have said, with all due respect at dinner.
Beginning is difficult in the middle of things, thought Nicodemus.
"A man can't climb back into his mother's womb and..."
No no no... it's not like that. It's not like you just climb in the bird, either,
and fly away, never coming back to Earth. It's more like a person let's themself-- let's God--
...keeps the Evil One from doing X,Y,Z, as if we could... and so they have to burn down and
START OVER
I finally made it to Boston today, for the Religion Communicators Convention. It is too much to take in, let alone describe. That is the bloggers nice way of saying he watched NBA basketball until late and then decided to start an entirely new blog. But, I could not end a Livejournal hiatus like this-- just acting like I suddenly have anything to say. I've had things to say I have just not been in the practice of saying lately. There are things we did and should continue to do that we--- just like that.
It is hard to begin in a middle so I began at a beginning. I came off the plane and the sky wasn't pelting me with Lake Michigan's drippings anymore. It was sunny in New England, on a coast unlike I had seen before. The man in the yellow vest outside of the terminal helped me call a hybrid cab. "Sure-- why not?" he said. While we waited, I started to talk with him. He blessed me with his encouragement-- believe me, anyone who invokes the name of Almighty and then tells you good things about your future is somebody I would rather believe on faith! He said that it was going to be a good adventure, graduating; he wished me luck on my business in Boston. I shook his hand-- I made sure to thank him. He could be my prophet.
The cabby and I did not talk for a little while. I asked if he got much business on a Wednesday. He said the hybrid people always like the hybrid cars. I guess I was a hybrid person. We went into a tunnel. I wanted so badly to say something other than "this is a long tunnel".
But it was. I waited five minutes before I said "This is more tunnel than I have ever seen." Then he realized it was my first time in Boston.
So, he started to explain things to me. The tunnels cleared what used to be awful winter traffic. Across from my hotel, there would be a mall. I still have not been there. Of the city he said "You're going to love it here."
I haven't seen a shred of that bad East Coast attitude I always hear about...
"Two beds" I sighed, so relieved. No chatisty pillow: a bed for each of us. I took a moment...
...now I am taking another one-- looking out the window again at the bridge and river cutting across the hotel's shadow. (glancing at Rob while he gets ready for bed).
It's a long day coming tomorrow, judging by the contents of our meeting. Imagine how verbose I could be if I weren't forced to sleep! I could start to talk about our surprisingly expensive dinner at the hotel restaurant. I could start to describe each of my counterparts. But, we all must take our rest. Oddly, all of the things that seemed most important to write down seem to escape me: about the convention itself and what it will mean for me.
But, that is what tomorrow's were made for!
Keep the morning tea off my tie:
a short ride from Lansing to Detroit
and I'm going up in another bird--this one is for Boston
This one is for the future for which I hope--
"...get the heck out of there..." I must have said, with all due respect at dinner.
Beginning is difficult in the middle of things, thought Nicodemus.
"A man can't climb back into his mother's womb and..."
No no no... it's not like that. It's not like you just climb in the bird, either,
and fly away, never coming back to Earth. It's more like a person let's themself-- let's God--
...keeps the Evil One from doing X,Y,Z, as if we could... and so they have to burn down and
START OVER
I finally made it to Boston today, for the Religion Communicators Convention. It is too much to take in, let alone describe. That is the bloggers nice way of saying he watched NBA basketball until late and then decided to start an entirely new blog. But, I could not end a Livejournal hiatus like this-- just acting like I suddenly have anything to say. I've had things to say I have just not been in the practice of saying lately. There are things we did and should continue to do that we--- just like that.
It is hard to begin in a middle so I began at a beginning. I came off the plane and the sky wasn't pelting me with Lake Michigan's drippings anymore. It was sunny in New England, on a coast unlike I had seen before. The man in the yellow vest outside of the terminal helped me call a hybrid cab. "Sure-- why not?" he said. While we waited, I started to talk with him. He blessed me with his encouragement-- believe me, anyone who invokes the name of Almighty and then tells you good things about your future is somebody I would rather believe on faith! He said that it was going to be a good adventure, graduating; he wished me luck on my business in Boston. I shook his hand-- I made sure to thank him. He could be my prophet.
The cabby and I did not talk for a little while. I asked if he got much business on a Wednesday. He said the hybrid people always like the hybrid cars. I guess I was a hybrid person. We went into a tunnel. I wanted so badly to say something other than "this is a long tunnel".
But it was. I waited five minutes before I said "This is more tunnel than I have ever seen." Then he realized it was my first time in Boston.
So, he started to explain things to me. The tunnels cleared what used to be awful winter traffic. Across from my hotel, there would be a mall. I still have not been there. Of the city he said "You're going to love it here."
I haven't seen a shred of that bad East Coast attitude I always hear about...
"Two beds" I sighed, so relieved. No chatisty pillow: a bed for each of us. I took a moment...
...now I am taking another one-- looking out the window again at the bridge and river cutting across the hotel's shadow. (glancing at Rob while he gets ready for bed).
It's a long day coming tomorrow, judging by the contents of our meeting. Imagine how verbose I could be if I weren't forced to sleep! I could start to talk about our surprisingly expensive dinner at the hotel restaurant. I could start to describe each of my counterparts. But, we all must take our rest. Oddly, all of the things that seemed most important to write down seem to escape me: about the convention itself and what it will mean for me.
But, that is what tomorrow's were made for!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)