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Djemps
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Name: James
Country: Haiti
Birthday: 8/9/1980
Gender: Male
Interests: ART: Drawing and painting. I'd like to work on some more sculpture projects when I get the chance... MUSIC: I play percussion (congas, djembe etc...) bass, and a little guitar. ASTRONOMY: Orion is still my favorite constellation! LANGUAGE: Reading good literature, writing poems and other 'stuff', learning Kreyol.
Expertise: Good Question!
Occupation: Education/training
Industry: Nonprofit
Message: message me
Member Since:
3/11/2003
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| When it comes to Xanga, I've been in a Do-Nothing rut for the past three months. I know this isn't much of a post today, but at least it's something, and maybe just putting my toe back in the water will help me get going again. Here's another reason to resume posting... I'm paying for Premium.
I promise to tell you all (anyone who's still reading this) what's been happening in my life next post. Right now I'm off to a Wedding Party for some friends of mine. I bought myself a new pair of swim trunks so I can take a dunk in the pool today. Trying them on was depressing.  I've gained 30 lbs since coming back from Haiti, and not a single ounce of that is muscle, trust me.
Oh well. For now I'll leave you with an odd personality test I found on Delonna's site. It takes your name and turns it into a martini recipe. I kept mine because I like the results.
| How to make a Djemps |
Ingredients:
5 parts mercy
3 parts humour
3 parts energy |
Method:
Stir together in a glass tumbler with a salted rim. Serve with a slice of lustfulness and a pinch of salt. Yum! |
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| Jars Of Clay lyrics :: Worlds Apart lyrics |
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I am the only one to blame for this
Somehow it all ends up the same
Soaring on the wings of selfish pride
I flew too high and like Icarus I collide
With a world I try so hard to leave behind
To rid myself of all but love
to give and die
To turn away and not become
Another nail to pierce the skin of one who loves
more deeply than the oceans,
more abundant than the tears
Of a world embracing every heartache
Can I be the one to sacrifice?
Or grip the spear and watch the blood and water flow
To love you - take my world apart
To need you - I am on my knees
To love you - take my world apart
To need you - broken on my knees
All said and done I stand alone
Amongst remains of a life I should not own
It takes all I am to believe
In the mercy that covers me
Did you really have to die for me?
All I am for all you are
Because what I need and what I believe are worlds apart
I look beyond the empty cross
forgetting what my life has cost
I wipe away the crimson stains
and dull the nails that still remain
More and more I need you now,
I owe you more each passing hour
the battle between grace and pride
I gave up not so long ago
So steal my heart and take the pain,
wash the feet and cleanse my pride
take the selfish, take the weak,
and all the things I cannot hide
take the beauty, take my tears
this sin-soaked heart and make it yours
take my world apart
take it now, take it now
and serve the ones that I despise
speak the words I can't deny
watch the world I used to love
turn to dust and fall away
I look beyond the empty cross
forgetting what my life has cost
so wipe away the crimson stains
and dull the nails that still remain
so steal my heart and take the pain
take the selfish, take the weak
and all the things I cannot hide
take the beauty, take my tears
take my world apart, take my world apart
I pray, and I pray, and I pray
take my world apart
Worlds apart.
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| Roughly two more weeks and this semester is over. Then I'll be back. | | |
| My friend, Jessica Saul has a brother named Joel who is the exact same age as me. Born August 9th 1980. He's a Marine in a special sniper squad. Joel's been in the service for three years now. This summer he was itching to put his training to use, maybe get shipped out to Iraq, but instead he got locked into a desk job, which was driving him crazy. A few months ago he came back up here to Rochester to visit. Everybody was together at a friend's house. My buddy Mike Turiano was in the kitchen talking to Joel and another man who is a professional carpenter. Mike looked at this guy's huge, rugged hands, and made a remark about how our profession realy shapes our hands. "Sometimes I wish I had carpenter's hands like yours, but I've got artist's hands" Mike said. Joel held up his palms. "These are killing hands."
Joel went back to base after that and continued working at his desk job. Then last month I got an email from Mike T asking everyone to pray for Joel Saul because he just got orders to ship out and would be entering a possible combat situation. I bet everyone was thinking Iraq, but I knew in my heart it was Haiti. Well I was right. Do you remember reading in the news about a car that tried to run a roadblock in Port-au-Prince? The driver refused to stop, so a Marine Sniper had to shoot him. Guess who fired the shot. Joel Saul.
I know there are never any easy answers in life. Did that man realy need to die? I don't know. Joel was just doing what he was trained to do. Who knows what would have happened if they didn't stop that car? But I remember how he stood there in that kitchen and looked at his hands and said "These are killing hands." Joel knew what he was trained to do. He had no confusion about what his purpose was. Yet there he was, stuck at a desk job, wondering if he would ever have the chance to put his training to use. Then all of a sudden he was placed in a position where he had to make a decision and react in a split second. All of that training which seemed wasted came right back to him. He made the national news. I'm not saying that we are all killers. Some of us are healers, and encouragers. But I think about Joel and how he KNEW what he was inside. Now I remember to look at my hands and remember who God made me to be. It may not seem like I am doing anything with my hands that I want to right now, but I know that someday I will.
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| - Superman Superman
When I was going to MCC for my Associate's degree back in 99-2000, I worked relief hours at Heritage Christian Homes. Jackie is a little old man who lives at the house I worked at. Jackie has Mild Mental Retardation and Down's Syndrome as well as Bilateral Cataracts (which means he don't see too well). Everybody who works at the house just loves this little guy. He likes to sit in the living room easy chair and listen to the classical music station while petting his stuffed dog named Tanner. Jackie has a whole library of little catch phrases that he says when the mood strikes him.
"Ooh! That's right!"
"Good job. Perfect!"
"Your face and nose."
"Leggo my Eggo?"
"Good morning, good afternoon and good evening."
Jackie has difficulty recognizing faces due to the cataracts over his eyes. He can't tell the difference between most of the staff who come and go at Heritage. A few lucky staff have had the privilege of recieving Jackie's special attention... Ken, a kind man of 55 years with a shock of white hair is "Dick Clark!" according to Jackie. Bai, a tall black man from Sierra Leon is "Tarzan!". Now remember, Jackie is mildy retarted and can't see too well. He doesn't call these men names to tease them. Jackie seriously thinks that Dick Clark and Tarzan come to work at his house and give him meds.
Back when I was in school Jackie never learned to recognize me. I was just another blurry faced staff to him, unlike his special friends Dick Clark and Tarzan. When I got back from Haiti and was hired to Heritage full time I was so excited to know that I'd be working with Jackie once again. My first day back on the job, I thought I would re-introduce myself to Jackie. I bent down in front of him in his easy chair and said "Hello Jackie."
"Hi dere!"
"Do you remember who this is?"
Jackie squinted carefuly at my face for a moment and then got extremly excited.
"Superman!" he exclaimed and then threw his arms around my neck.
I hugged him back, grinning ear to ear.
I often find myself feeling discouraged or visionless living here America. Sometimes I don't think that I have grown very much as a man. People see my outer self and think that I've got my life all wrapped up and under control while inside I know there is still so much that needs to change and heal. I know my inner struggles and sorrows. I'm painfuly aware of my weaknesses; the Kriptonite stones of my life that I am forever striving against. I am no Man of Steel. Even still, I take heart in knowing that despite my frequent mistakes and shortcomings there is at least one person in this world who truly believes that I am his 'Superman'.
Thanks for believing in me Jackie.
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