Side Navigation

Even thou canst give me neither thought nor thing,

Were it the priceless pearl hid in the land, Which if I fix thereon a greedy gaze, Becomes not poisen that doth burn and cling; Their own bad look my foolish eyes doth daze, They see the gift, see not the giving hand— From the living root the apple dead I wring. GM

Screwtape explains the law of undulation:

My dear Wormwood, So you ‘have great hopes that the patient’s religious phase is dying away’, have you? I always thought the Training College had gone to pieces since they put old Subgob at the head of it, and now I am sure. Has no one every told you about the law of Undulation? Humans

Read More

Gloriously wasteful, O my Lord, art thou!

Sunset faints after sunset into the night, Splendorously dying from thy window-sill– For ever. Sad our poverty doth bow Before the riches of thy making might: Sweep from thy space thy systems at thy will– In thee the sun sets every sunset still. GM

On enemy ground

Screwtape  twists the gift of pleasure :  Never forget that when we are dealing with any pleasure in it’s healthy and normal and satisfying form, we are, in a sense, on the Enemy’s ground. I know we have one many a soul through pleasure. All the same, it is His  invention, not ours.  He made

Read More

Father of me, thou art my bliss secure.

Make of me, maker, whatsoe’er thou wilt. Let fancy’s wings hang moulting, hope grow poor, And doubt steam up from where a joy was spilt– I lose no time to reason it plain and clear, But fly to thee, my life’s perfection dear:– Not what I think, but what thou art, makes sure. GM

thoughts from Van Gogh

I am a big fan of gaining inspiration from a wide variety of sources… I enjoy painting, photography, sculpture, many musical styles, movies, poetry – the list goes on. One of my favorite reads currently would be the Letters of Van Gogh, found online here It is really amazing to read this brilliant artists thoughts…

Read More

Man’s highest action is to reach up higher,

Stir up himself to take hold of his sire. Then best I love you, dearest, when I go And cry to love’s life I may love you so As to content the yearning, making love, That perfects strength divine in weakness’ fire, And from the broken pots calls out the silver dove. GM

thoughts on creativity

… so I am fixing a water connection to the front of my house, and I look down and see a folded paper on the ground… I pick it up and unfold it, and find this; well, well, well…       a song idea. from when? I had no idea. I have piles of

Read More

New Song! hear the drum