I've founded a new 'production company'

called Northern Lights Dreamfactory.

So to speak. It's home-made stuff done on my little lappie, but it's fun and rewarding.

Just finished the video of our Nepal mission trip, with the help of my little macbook and Pam's camcorder. Listening to the voices of the missionaries and letting them speak for themselves is one of the key strengths of the media.

Camerawork's not very good and quite shaky, cos extreme zoom-ins require tripod and a heavier camera. But we use what we have. Shaky can be an edgy, MTV style, yeah? :)

Anyways, now working on the audio and video transitions and the soundtrack. Flow's not there yet, but ahoy it's on its way!

So I was thinking of a name for the end credits.

What are northern lights?

According to wikipedia:

Auroras (North/South Polar Lights; or aurorae, sing.: aurora) are natural colored light displays in the sky, usually observed at night, particularly in the polar zone. They typically occur in the ionosphere. Some scientists^[who?] call them "polar auroras". In northern latitudes, the effect is known as the aurora borealis, named after the Romangoddess of dawn, Aurora, and the Greek name for north wind, Boreas. It often appears as a greenish glow or sometimes a faint red, as if the sun was rising from an unusual direction. The aurora borealis is also called the northern polar lights, as it is only visible in the North sky from the Northern Hemisphere. The aurora borealis most often occurs from September to October and from March to April. The Cree call this phenomenon the Dance of the Spirits.

Its southern counterpart, the aurora australis/southern polar lights, has similar properties. Australis is the Latin word for "of the South".

Benjamin Franklin first brought attention to the "mystery of the Northern Lights." He theorized the shifting lights to a concentration of electrical charges in the polar regions intensified by the snow and other moisture.

Light of the north, dance of the spirit. Mysteriously beautiful, glowing and encompassing. Wow. I knew I had to use this name for our church's video productions.

Here's to more!!! Anyone care to join me?

A million thoughts running

through my head at once.

But which one is it I commit to paper? Ink to parchment. Or rather, font to digital memory. 

It's all about choices. 

What, when, how you speak. 

Like Lucky's unstoppable stream of consciousness in Beckett's Waiting for Godot, the insufferable multitude of 'think' ensuing from him lays bare the human predicament. 

Beckett's tragicomic absurdist play was my lit text in JC. The fullness of its meaning didn't fall on me then. 

We're indeed waiting for Godot, or God, but meanwhile the spaces are filled with the monotony of thoughts translated into insomany words. 

I think postmodernism is just a generation trying to cope with technological advancement, heightened education and literacy, 'freedom' of thought, and other ideological freedoms. Since there are too many freedoms to choose from, pluralism is the keyword of the day. 

Keyword being highly associated with the newly-founded verb of 'googling'. No longer just a noun. 'Let's google the meaning of the word "metanarrative".'

But no, 'little narratives' (Lyotard) are the soup of the day, so let's tell your/his/her/my story, our way.

And definitely, if you hold on to any monolithic, absolute truth(s), you're in hot soup if you're in postmodern company.

See, one thought leads to another, and another to another's other. 

Just please, let there be an absolute something or Someone, or somebody else could get hurt ingesting too much or too little Prozac. 

What maketh man is his very, very fine mind; yet it is also his undoing.

That's the way the cookie crumbles.

Brilliant sunsets are

God's way of showcasing simple, glorious beauty.

Why?

Because it happens every day without fail. Yet it lights up the entire land with its fierce, captivating fire every day, as if it was the last every time.

I saw this, in the hyperordinary act of walking out of my office. One of my rare early clock-outs, of course.

The burning watercolour of red, orange, yellow ebbs as the light scorches the horizon. It almost burns your retinas just looking at it, but not quite.

But enough to burn something deep in your heart.

That if God could create a new sunset every day's end, and a new sunrise every morning, what couldn't He do?

Everything may be in a one lumpy mess, all gooey and grey and black and hideous. Hate, deceit, anger, disappointment, all that leaving and quitting and giant mountains that you must climb; and fall, dust off your bleedin' knees, and climb again - the sun rises, and the sun sets.

And everything, new the next morning.

No, your problems don't go away. Just like cancer, Aids, and bad governments don't go away. But yet, the morning is new.

So is the enduring love of God. New, every morning.

He will see YMM through anything, because the church is His, the Church is Him.

Even if I'm unsure of anything else, of that I'm certain.