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Love.
Shaun

On this particular night..

Hello, friends.

You’ll have to deal with my high-flown rhetoric for a while, or at least for this post, as I am in a very literary place right now; this place being both mental and physical; being London and the essence of London as it creeps into my brain via all possible avenues.

Well, today was nothing to write home, or for that matter a post, about, but last night and even this night were just lovely. Last night I saw for the second time “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” Even though the actor who played Robin Goodfellow (an honest Puck) the first time I saw it was incapacitated in some way two hours before last night’s show and another actor from the company had to read his part script-in-hand, it was amazing. The stand-in did a truly fantastic job, stunning given the circumstances, and I really got to enjoy the writing and acting having now seen the production at least once and having finally read it. Ugh! Just wonderful!

Tonight was a nice end to a boring day. With my flatmates all about the town, some with shows to see and others with pubs to – discover, I took a nice long walk through the heart of London. Very alone, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. For the first time I got to really start to digest some of the things that I’ve seen and done and heard and tasted over the past few weeks. I walked from the flat down to Waterloo bridge, picking up some fresh, crispy, paper-wrapped chips along the way. Waterloo bridge at night is my favorite place in London (not that I’ve seen enough to make such a claim, although it really is, at least, so far, but I digress). I stood there for a long while staring out at the clock tower (inside which is a bell named Big Ben), and over parliament, and over the London Eye. Then I turned and looked at St. Paul’s Cathedral and just really let the sights soak in. I sat on a bench on the bank of the Thames and wrote a few short vignettes for a possible later work. I walked down to the Globe and listened to a crowd cheer the words of a man who died four-hundred years ago, and carried on to the original site of his theatre. Then I walked back over the Millennium Bridge and right to the base of St. Paul’s and then back to the flat.

A good walk. A good night.

And I pray one for you as well.

Love.
Shaun

Blood Brothers

I went to see the production Blood Brothers tonight for the second time since I got here. It’s really incredible. The cast really made it come alive and they will all be moving on soon so I wanted to get another viewing in before they left. If you ever get the chance I would suggest seeing it. It didn’t stay on Broadway for very long, but it’s been running on the West End for twenty years now. Really moving.

Anyway, tomorrow is the first day since getting to FSU that I get to sleep in. Yay!

Financial Aid is really starting to get on my nerves because I can’t get the money out of Suntrust and into Bank of America, and therefore can’t pay my fees. The whole system is fairly useless.

In the past couple days I’ve seen the homes of Virginia Woolf, John Keats, John Maynard Keynes, Charles Darwin, and George Orwell. On the site where Orwell worked in a bookshop now stands a Hamburger Union and the inscription on the restaurant reads: “All hamburgers are created equal, but some hamburgers are created more equal than others. Our apologies to Mr. Orwell.” And all the nerds out there laughed. Maybe Zac’s the only one that’ll get that, but it’s funny, believe me.

Missing you all.
Love.
Shaun

Hillsong!

Well. I attended Hillsong London this past Sunday.. and it was GREAT!

Big surprise, eh?

Once again, I can’t upload pictures cos I still don’t have the appropriate uploading device, but I will have them up eventually.

Classes started here in the FSU Study Centre yesterday, and consequently I am now a little frightened by the amount of work that I will be required to do. It’s going to be one of the more demanding semesters that I’ve ever taken, which is unfortunate, but whatever, it will be cool nonetheless.

My flatmates and I have taken up the pastime of playing card throwing, so every night we have some sort of card throwing related event. Our favorite of these is throwing the cards as hard as we can at the blinds and hearing the loud pop. It’s a good time.

Oh yeah! Saw “Spamalot” last night! It was hilarious! A very good time.

… that’s all I can think of for now.

Love.
Shaun

This is how it went down..

I said to myself, “Shaun, you should find out what time Hillsong London’s services are. Yes, that will be a good use of your time on this very uneventful day.” “Also, Shaun, find out where the services are held. After all, it’s a huge freaking city, you musn’t get lost.”

So then I listened to myself and got on the web.

I found that the times were very convenient: 10:30, 12:45, 5:00. Swell. Now that’s done. Where is this place anyway?

Oh my, the recommended tube stop is the same one I use to get to my flat. That’s great. It should be… Oh my, that’s the same street as my.. OH MY! I can see it from my front door.

Yeah.

Also, today I went to retrieve the remainder of my luggage from my cousin Clive’s flat, but was sidetracked on the way due to a bloody paw print. I thought, “Hmm, that’s odd. And so is this one.. and this one.. and this one..”

So I followed the paw prints for about a half mile from a park all the way to a front door which was opening as I passed.

A woman came out and looked down at the tracks. I said, “Excuse me, are those your dog’s tracks?” She then got very shifty and mumbled “yes” as she walked away.

Very odd. I hope the doggie’s ok. But this pretty much makes me a detective now. And an international one at that.

Good day.

Love.
Shaun

London! The Preamble.

Alright!

So I’ve been in the UK for about a week and a half now, but today is the first day that I’ve met up with other FSU students. So far so good.

Quick rundown of the events so far: half-sleep-walking tour of london, actual tour of london, Shakespeare’s Merry Wives of Windsorand Midsummer’s Night Dream, Blood Brothers (Awesome!), Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, Henley-on-Thames (George Harrison lived there!), Watlington Hill (gorgeous!), Stratford-Upon-Avon (Shakespeare’s birth/death place.. A writer’s Mecca), and now to FSU study Centre.

That’s a mouthful.

Other highlights include fantastic meals with my fantastic family members Clive, Ellie, Helen, Ian and Geoff. They’ve been absolutely wonderful! Ellie woke me up with toast with birthday candles in it today. That was very nice. :)

Overall it’s been a very eventful 10 days. Jam packed with goodness. I should have photos up as soon as I get my camera cable.

Love ya’ll!
Shaun

London

Yes. London approacheth.

Last American Day: August 17th.

Preparations and massive debt accumulation are underway.

Maybe someday I’ll get serious about posting here. That would be nice.

Love.
Shaun

Because The Night Has The Moon

You can go your entire life chasing the beauty and dark mysteries of the moon without ever realizing that it never had its own light. Until one day you discover that what you loved about the moon truly comes from the sun, around which you were born to revolve, and the moon is just a big, ugly rock.

The sun is unimaginably huge, and only seen through a distressingly small, dirty hole in the night. Never find in the moon what you really want from the sun. Your soul will never rest.

Love.
Shaun

For those who dream, lead

If I’m not mistaken, this is what people refer to as “growing up.” It’s a point in your life where the fantasies of childhood and the dreams of adolescence seem to be slipping painfully and chaotically from your grip; when the common thread of advice is either, “it’s normal” or “this too shall pass.” The worst of it is that those who embrace it get the societal high ground. They are maturing. Even if they aren’t. Even if the acceptance of the way it is continues, and it does, to lead to a revolving door of pain and struggle, it is seen as wise to acknowledge it. But it isn’t just the acknowledging, because that has virtue. It’s the acceptance. It’s the “this is who I am” or “this is how it is.”

And it hurts because at this particular time, this time of maturation, all those around you have the same choices in front of them. But it isn’t like times past where words and passion’s argument had an effect on the decisions of others; where a friend’s words held weight and value, because a sign of maturity is the independence of thought. And that is the very quality that gets sickeningly perverted into a glorification of those who can’t listen; the unwise leading themselves, blind with no guide.

This is what makes dreamers strong. Not that they have inherent power or strength of spirit, but that they get continually abandoned for the beauty of the ordinary, the allure of the status quo. It’s only in the ability to shrug off what they hold most dear that individuals are able to cling to what they believe. To be content is to have an anchor, to lose content is to float untethered, free, and alone on the ocean of hope. It is dark and bare place for the human soul, but like the moon reflects the pure light of imagination and vision. Few float freely on their own thoughts, and fewer still, once free, lead.

Love.
Shaun

The Time Has Come

Alright, this is just a teaser, if you will. A little something to get the blood flowing. I am going to try to update this more often. Yeah, we’ve heard that before… I hear you saying. And with good reason. I guess that’s all I can say for now.

What’s been on my mind recently: getting a new job, set list for Diverge on Sunday, writing a fiction story, raising money to go to London, sleep [a want what you can't have kind of thing].

Quote on my mind today: “German thinker Max Weber said that politics is ‘the slow boring of hard boards, and anyone who seeks to do it must risk his own soul.’… It means that change comes in excruciating increments to those who want it.” -President Bartlet, Privateers, The West Wing

Those who want it.

Love.
Shaun