Thursday, April 02, 2009

Cinematic, baby
(It only means i think you're cool, mei)

There is something about Mark Richmond which makes you like him. It's not that he's exceptionally suave and handsome or beautifully chiseled, it's more of his way with words.

His poise.
His charm.
His charisma.

Obama oozes it, it practically flows from his shoes and brimms over and drowns his audience in his brilliant, charming, luminosity.
Hilter exploited it to achieve something so unspeakably horrific, at such a large scale he is comparable to the devil.
Martin Luther King employed it because He Had A Dream, a Dream to free his people.
Mahatma Ghandi possesed it and freed India, and millions of impoverished.
Cristiano Ronaldo wears it histrionically, arrogantly and sexily as he struts around the pitch.

Mark Richmond used it to soothe the nerves of 50 students who's hearts were beating, whose palms were wetting themselves and whose curiosity had turned into nervousness.

Mark Richmond told of Smiling Cameras and Being Yourself and lame little anecdotes which made the tangible agitation of 50 students melt into easy laughter.

Charisma is something special.

Its the beauty of making people see instead of just looking.
Its the beauty of making people listen instead of just hearing.
Its the beauty of making people feel instead of just listening.
Its the beauty of making people act instead of just feeling.

I suppose when God wants us to spread his magnificence and unconditional love, he gives us charisma to make others listen to us. Gosh, im thinking im not going to be all preachy because no one listens to people who preach all the time.

But God gives me experiences which i retell and retell and retell and SHOUT FROM THE ROOFTOPS AND SING IN THE RAIN ABOUT.

And the thing is, people listen to you. To me. To whoever who has has felt his grace.

And maybe thats Charisma at its best.

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