Frozen

Oh man, I have been neglecting this blog MAJORLY.  Sorry about that folks, you know how busy college life is.  I'm back with a new spiel about the latest movie Frozen.  Let's start with the best part: the animation.  The scene where Elsa builds a grand ice castle for herself with a few waves of her hand is absolutely beautiful, and basically any scene where the "snow queen" uses her power is a sight worth seeing.  You can never knock magic sparkles.  Elsa's sister Anna is a very spunky and adorable character whom I enjoyed watching throughout the film.  She's free-spirited, but the love that she shows for her sister is a real tearjerker (especially at the end).  My dad said he would've liked to see Elsa's character explored more, but doing the movie in Anna's point of view does keep things a little more upbeat.

I don't like putting major spoilers on my movie reviews, so I can't tell you all of my reactions to the plot twists (now matter how twisty they were).  However, I can say that I appreciated how the movie's message about love didn't revolve exclusively around the romantic kind of love.  There are certainly other forms of love and I feel that the movie did do a good job of showing that.  As for Olaf the snowman… whew, he is a trip!  Practically every scene he was in made me laugh, and his musical number about how he wishes it were summer only made him more funny/endearing (Kristoff: "I'm gonna tell him.  Anna: "Don't you dare.").  That leaves me with Kristoff, the ice guy.  Pretty handsome dude.  I'm gonna leave it there.

So, what's the final sum-up?  Frozen is a pretty entertaining movie and you should see it if you like funny snowmen, mushy lovey-dovey stuff, and reindeer named Sven.

P.S. I didn't find out until after I saw the movie that Flynn/Eugene and Rapunzel from the movie "Tangled" make a cameo appearance!  You only see their backs, but be on the lookout for them when people are entering the castle of Arendelle for Elsa's coronation.

Me-Shaped Hole

Inspired by this post

Me-Shaped Hole

There is a Me-Shaped Hole

In my parent's house,
Which creaks and groans in mourning
In the wooden desk,
Which stands stiffly and lonely
In the old brown couch,
Which slumps in its silent space

There is a Me-Shaped Hole

In my mother's hands,
Which used to always cook for me
In my father's eyes,
Which used to nightly read to me
In my sister's mouth,
Which used to eat my food for me

There is a Me-Shaped Hole

"We miss you."

There is a Me-Shaped Hole

In my high school's bookshelves,
Which are filled with new favorites
In the scrawling whiteboard,
Which has new lessons, new tricks
In my old teacher's brain,
Which brims with new things to learn

There is a Me-Shaped Hole

In far off friends
Who ventured to distant Dreams
In misplaced classmates
Who have gone to Who-Knows-Where
In acquaintances
Who traveled to AfterLand

"I miss you too."

There is a Me-Shaped Hole

There is a Them-Shaped Hole

What Is Home?

Inspired by my mother accidentally calling my college dorm my "home."

What is home?  Frankly I can no longer tell.  About thirteen years ago I was planted in a humble house that didn't have much to it other than the foundation, the walls, and the roof.  I didn't budge for many years, but oh how my heart dreamt of going beyond the horizon, where the dull flat earth collided with the limitless expanse of the sky.  Sometimes I could envision myself floating up higher and higher, so that my fingertips could slide along the outline of the circle of the sun.  Something real would always pull me back down.

Yet what was imagined is now real, and what I thought was the future is now here.  There is a me-sized hole in my parents' house.  I call it a house because, well, I don't know what my home is anymore.  It is a new reality that I must grasp.  What is mine?  Who have I left behind?  Who is just ahead of me?  Where is my home?  My body is being stretched everywhere at once, but I can't reach far enough to touch anything.  I am suspended between wonderful, almost-forgotten memories of an old world and a new universe that becomes more and more familiar with each day I spend there.  I am no longer content in my parents' house.  They know that, and I know that, but I still think of them everyday.  I want to soar into the new and unknown, but I still embrace the olden days.  Is where I live now my home?  The question spins around my head in an endless whirl of I-don't-know.  Will I ever know?

The answer is to be decided.