artistic endeavors: shakespeare.

remember this day?
september 5.

that was when autumn started.
hence the scarf, the sweater, the skinny jeans and tennis shoes.

seeing as how i had never painted a shakespeare quote, this was the day to do it.

. . . and that's how it turned out.
:)

so, for current news:
tuesday i woke up with a slight sore throat.
wednesday i woke up feeling better.
today i woke up feeling eh.

 today. yeah. lucky you guys. a preview of a custom canvas i just finished!

i've hardly taken any pictures, made food, much less painted more than a swirl, in the past week.
it is not fun feeling less than 100%.
oy.
we're going swing dancing tonight: martha, anna, me, and we're meeting up with a few friends there --annie, heather, derek, and who knows who else.
it should be fun . . . i'm hoping the social situation brings me my second wind, because honestly, with this windy, cold, utterly overcast day, i'm not feeling that energetic.

well, now. she & him are always good. peppy, cute music when the day isn't making sense in the fog of blahness.
and . . . unfortunately, i haven't been able to find the vhs of anne of green gables.
who knows where in this house it is . . . dangit.
i really want to watch that. really. really.
we need to remedy that.
maybe the library has it? ;)

wonder in daily life.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

11:38pm-11:51pm

I wonder . . .
There are nights that I look forward to that first sip of coffee –and the grinding of the beans, the sun pouring in the windows, rinsing the filter, pushing the start button—into the next day.
I wonder if it’s the things we look forward to, that fill our life with wonder?
And my, my . . . how many things do we already look forward to, or how many things could and should we teach ourselves to build up to look forward to them –and how much joy and wonder would there be?
I wonder.
The things that make us smile –we could bring the number up with simple choices to savor them, couldn’t we?
And how close will we let ourselves to the edge to love, to care, to reach out hands out to touch the sky or what we think is blue, cool expanse brightened by the sun; toes balanced on the edge?
We could fall. And hurt. And learn and turn away from the choice to become bitter, but rather start climbing another mountain.
Or something else could happen; we could fall be lifted on the wings of wonder and joy and gratitude and touch the clouds.
Of course, climbing mountains and touching clouds won’t be our whole life.
But for moments of joy that could be paralleled to such things.
Such times that fill the soul.
Such times that our souls feel out of breath and weary, tired of existence and trying; waiting for a day to feel new again, hopeful again.
Such times that our soul connects with another.
Such times that grow a smile on our mouth and welling up in our eyes.
Such times that even bring our soul low, searching for bright specks of goodness in the bottom of the river of life.
Such times that make us laugh or sigh inside, with wonder that such good could exist in someone else; that such good could exist and happen to us.

Gratitude is the root of joy.
[brennan manning]

rambling, wondering, restless soul.

don't you just love the feeling of having to measure up?
eh.
not me.
measuring up to an invisible, undefined but seemingly present ideal or something . . . just isn't the way anyone wants to spend their emotional energies on.

freedom is the result of peace.
that's a paraphrased quote from embrace me, a book by lisa samson.
no matter where i am, no matter where i will be, i've tried to figure it out.
expectations. ideals. thoughts. dreams. should's and could's and would-be's.
but what is?
and wherever i am, however vague i love to keep some things in certain times because for some reason . . . inferior feelings reign deep.
the thing is, i'm trying to figure out life.
what i want to do.
what could and will make money that i can save and give.
what i'd love to happen in the next 2 years, the next 5 years, distant hoping maybe dreams for the next 10.
but how many am i guaranteed?
how many are any of guaranteed?
and how many ideas will change, fade, turn, walk away, grow?
the deep things in life are made of the wondering.
the thoughts. the dreamings. the unknown.
there is greatness to an always-directed life where you can always see straight and there's never fog on the road or detours that will take who-knows-how-long and who-knows-where . . .
sometimes i feel i'm the most clueless person of us all.
i could hope i'm not alone. or i could just be insane.
and i could totally just not press publish after all this.
on the same line as all this is the guest post erika wrote for my blog this past week.
i told her i need to reread it about every other day.
i guess it's one of those days, isn't it?
as bethany phrased it once in a post:

It’s one of those days in which ants crawl around the inside of my skin and I think “If only…” without being able to finish that sentence.

sometimes i thirst for direction.
sometimes i grasp for inspiration.
sometimes i embrace the cluelessness for a good solid 12 hours and wake the next day feeling bright and nearly myself again.
sometimes i wish everything was handed to me on a silver --or at least, brass or brushed nickel-- platter.
sometimes i wish i felt there were more possibilities.
then i remember there are endless possibilities.
but some, i feel, are bridgeless.
and i have no clue how to build certain bridges.
i can see them but have no way, no clue, no details as to how to set out to journey there.
i hope all my word-pictures and vague analogies haven't thrown you off.
cheers with an empty coffee mug to those of you who read through all this.

i'm not even sure if it's going to make sense. i'm not going to read it again until probably.....later. or tomorrow. heh.
i just know someday life's going to change.
and i'll find something good in that, too.
i will.
am i the only person who sometimes imagines herself someday, as a grandma, looking back on whatever i do or don't do . . . whatever i say or don't say . . . however i change or don't change . . . who i love or don't love . . . whatever i choose or don't choose . . . ?
am i the only one?

i love this song.
it helps me breath. brings peace.

be good, keep your feet dry, your eyes open, your heart at peace and your soul in the joy of Christ.
[Thomas Merton]

artistic endeavors: wildflowers.

it's 1:44pm. at the moment, as i'm starting this post.
julie [the lady that wants me to photograph her birth] called at 8:20am with the news that...well...some things had happened that normally happen around the time-vicinity day that a baby gets born. haha. i really just don't feel like typing the stuff here. i get it and all, but my blog isn't exactly a birth discussion blog, so i'd rather have that stuff go un-named. el oh el.
you mommies know what  i'm talking about.
plugs, ya know? she's 41 weeks and one day, totally ready. read this if you're interested in birth stuff and what i hinted at. lol.
okay, i'm getting off that subject.
ahem.
i think i'll post a canvas, because i can't wait to show you the wildflower one i did for wildflower cafe.
oh my. i have yet to post about that "best monday ever" huh?
wow. what suspense.

just a note, though, because i don't have enough brain space to write it out well enough right now, i'm listening to the beatles for the first time ever (without it being in a movie's background) and it came from this post by kristen leigh: ron & lauren {shade tree and evergreen wedding}.
yeah. first time ever. don't slap me. 
some people might consider that a cardinal sin or something.

 may 7

so onto the painting, yes? 
psh, what takes me so long to get around to it?

i ramble.
that's why.
hah.

 

oh, and i think you'd all find some amusement in what my little sisters called "coffee nerd beka".
ahem.
i saw these super-bendy nike frames in one of my drawers while looking for chocolate, and i decided to wear them. with a pretty dress. yep. that's how i roll.

today turned into such a blah day (haven't had one of those in a while; i know, strange!) that i just drank down a huge mug that contained half cooled black coffee and half ovaltine chocolate milk.

anna calls this stage of the canvas floating flower heads. yep. so uncreative and left-brained and . . . nice of her. heh.

yay! the flowers have stems. and leaves. 
it's days like these that my ocd stuff jumps out at everyone.
anna witnessed some odd stuff earlier. i may or may not write about it. it's so particular. and weird.

to be honest, this day is feeling like one of those horrid ones where you just want to put your hair up in a messy bun, push play on set fire to the rain or a chick flick, and let yourself go. 
it's not that nice of a feeling, frankly. i'd rather feel more energetic. not needing cold coffee after having 2-3 cups already earlier....waiting, waiting, hoping for that phonecall to make that 1 1/2 hour trek to the birth taking place. buy a new sd card with excitement running through my veins.
frankly, that's what i want to do instead of get dressed up and go to church.
ohhhhh myyyy. don't no one get their guns out. i know some who would. figuratively. ;)

another thing: new ways forward: in which i can't laugh this time. fascinating. relatable. i've had that happen before. it's the oddest thing to get down to the fact that this sort of thing affects real people.

 ~~~

bittywingsbaby's i am His beloved series is still going on...you should go read the posts!
they're pretty darn wonderful.

chocolate, prayer, lowes, and purpose. or lack of it.

5:52pm

For lack of a better thing to write about, here’s a quote from Faking Grace (by Tamara Leigh):

Jack: “Found out that the problem of teenage drugs and alcohol isn’t limited to those outside the faith, did you?”
Grace: “I knew it wasn’t. I’m not that naïve.” Well, not always. “It’s just sad.”
Jack: “Sad that Christianity isn’t an impenetrable shield? That even after we’ve accepted Jesus as our Saviour, we keep messing up? doing things we know we shouldn’t? things He has to wash away again and again?”
How depressing . . .
Jack: “Sorry, Grace, I didn’t mean to ruin your day. And what I sad shouldn’t ruin it, because there’s joy in knowing He loves each of us so much that He never stops washing no matter how big or dirty the piles of laundry.”

(by the way, that book is pretty good! i like it a lot, and hey, jack is british!! ;))


Today has seemed kind of . . . purposeless.
To Anna.
To me.
I even drank a cup of chocolate milk inbetween bites of pecans, and only realized what I was doing when I was halfway done. Mhmm. I wasn’t that deep in thought, either.
I could blame it on going to sleep after reading till 12am and then getting woken up at 8:30, but I know lots of people who get less sleep than that and still function normally. At least, as far as I’ve seen. ;)
I could blame it on Lowes, and the partial insanity it inflicted on me (haha, i am just joking, i had a pretty good time there), being there right away so early in the day, and what with all my dreams floating around in my head. As in, I can’t wait to do ‘interior designing’ in my house someday…yeah, yeah, I know money doesn’t grow on trees, but I’m still looking forward to it, because it’s something I have great interest in and enjoy. And oh, wait! The fact that my dreams of ‘the house’ include a man (someday) aren’t helped by the lack of suitors lining up outside the back door . . . (haha, I always tell Anna that, in her funky moments of questioning random things; like, seriously, Anna, you/I’m not getting married tomorrow. or next month. do you see suitors lined up outside? lol) But really, I don’t mind right now, and heck, I shouldn’t. Should I? Nope. ‘Cause heck, I’m still quite young, and don’t you dare laugh, Heather. ;)


Anyways, that thing above, about the piles of laundry? This day feels like it’s one of those…not that I’ve been sinning up the yin-yang, but shouldn’t laziness and purposelessness be a sin? It’s loving no one, it’s not benefiting anyone, much less God, anyone else, or even us.


Hmm. Did I mention that I had a square of espresso-dark-chocolate after that chocolate milk and pecans? Um, no. I didn't think so. Now, go pick your eyeballs up off the floor, over there, you know, where they rolled to after they dropped out a few moments ago. (hopefully, they didn't.)


Just a few thoughts.
But as I said, about this all being part of those piles of laundry…I’m just glad that tomorrow will be new, because He makes each day new, His mercies toward us are new every day. And goodness, don’t ya know we need it.


I had an urge to bundle up in random clothes –just enough to keep me warm—and go out to walk, randomly, and just pray. But I bided my time writing in my journal for the first time since yesterday and only two pages at that, and then I undid the braid that was falling out weirdly, and suddenly, as I was finishing off a mug of Bigelow green-peach tea, the sun was completely down and my chances are a whole lot less . . . and soon Dad will be coming home, and depending on if he wants to make Reuben sandwiches tonight, I’m going to be in the kitchen (maybe) making those with him . . .


See my excuses? Heck, if I wasn’t so consumed sharing my oddball day with you all, I could and would and should’ve been out there praying . . . shouldn’t I have? I think so, but that's just me.


Well, a thought peeks around the corner: . . . there’s always tomorrow.
Yeah, yeah; that’s what I’ve been telling myself, ending up at night without having even touched my Bible. There’s always tomorrow. I have got a problem. And I’m going to solve it. (well, with His help. See? I admit I need it.) with a few choices nicely carried through, those little ones where you decides to do this or that or that other thing, and I’ll have myself some hopefully sincere time of devotedness.


Devoted is an interesting word. Not many people are devoted to the right things. Including me. Heck, I’m devoted to reading, writing, coffee, tea, and living with and helping my family and Grammy darling. But where the heck is the part that says I’m devoted to loving, devoted to reaching out (to those who need help, hope, etc), reaching up (to Him, for His hand) . . . ?


Well, I’m devoted (subconsciously, at least; I tell you! ;)) to learning to love, in these sometimes horrible moments, day in, day out.


Sometimes, that phrase ‘familiarity breeds contempt’ just comes alive. Oh yeah. But then you think of that Love chapter in 1 Corinthians, and if He can Love us so constantly, and Jesus told us to love God, our friends, and our enemies, haha, then why the heck can’t I work on stomping down those impulses of The Mean Sister, etc¸ and asking God to help me…? My pride, selfishness and everything else is so not a good excuse. (sighs after long rant against self, finds self in need of another mug of dark chocolate milk . . . just kidding!!!)


But I really need to be off now. And I’m so glad I’ve finally taken a small step in the right direction for something—I’m charging the batteries for my camera so I can take pictures. It’s been dead for a week or so, darnit.


Hmm. See there? you could totally take it to metaphorical levels: I need to charge my batteries, so I can take pictures (again).


Really, peoples, how much brains/imagining/thoughts does it take to lead you down one or several of those metaphorical paths??? I’m kind of sometimes maybe a bit too symbolic/metaphorical…


But ya’ll have a good night. On to purposeful things. ;)

P.S. I finished Operation: Firebrand Saturday night around 12:30am....heh heh. On to Operation Firebrand: Crusade. About 70 pages into it. Soooo good. Actually made me cry last night, and not just a few little leakers. This one's about slavery, etc.
Just in case none of you have caught on yet, I'm really liking Jefferson Scott's writing...

friends...lovely times...books, and introspectiveness. or lack of it.

Hello!
Last night I wrote some stuff, but never got around to posting it, so here’s that . . . but beware, I wasn’t that inspired yesterday, what with being sleep-deprived (not that I’m better today, but I am) and talked out, and screamed out. (wink to anna, heather, steph, and my dear brothers scaring us) :

Frankly, I can’t wait till Wordless Wednesday, just because I caught some sweet shots from an upper-level window on Sunday morning.
But then of course, on the other hand, I really can wait for Wednesday, because I don’t wish the weeks away… it’s going by scarily too fast as it is.
Golly.

Yesterday we had a fund-raising lunch and silent auction at church, and Sarah and Justin were the head of it. it was pretty amusing, because we ran out of spaghetti pretty quick and so Justin was in the kitchen cooking more up for a while there. We all had a lovely time sharing Eliyah, holding her while all the stuff went on. She's getting so darn big, oh-so-cute. Sarah was in need of a reconstituting cup of water after it was all over --and, being the nice little sister I am to her, I won't mention (she teased me that i was going to blog about her and this funny little thing, so i'm not disappointing!! ;)) that she was so out of it she was searching for her purse when it was slung over her shoulder, tucked under her arm. Haven't we all done that at least once in our lifetime? About something ....? ;) Hehe.

We’re loving the new Tobymac album, though. Hey Devil is my favorite . . . especially since it’s a very dancy type of number. It’s just a good song altogether. The others are good, too; very good, in fact. But sadly, it’s becoming very run-down; Rachel is playing it nonstop, and it’s starting to really bug me. Urgh. I hate it when that happens.

Well, this partly-vegetarian lasagna that Anna made Saturday night is really, really good –even more so when you’re very hungry. ;) The rest of us told her we weren’t interested in vegetarian-noodleless-lasagna, so she deviated. (hehehehe; evil laughing of an omnivore-carnivore) Beef made its way into the pan, along with the deliciously roasted slices of zucchini and eggplant with asiago and parmesan cheese. Not to mention she put a layer or two of lasagna noodles in there. In the end, it turned out fabulous. Yummy. Oh-so-good. Mmmmmm. Oh, don’t forget ricotta cheese and spinach.


We had a lovely time with Heather and Stephanie, took them home today (they were dropped off at our house yesterday afternoon) after walking to the coffee shop uptown (one of the daily-brews? mmm:)) and taking pictures in this lovely cold weather, then going home for a bite to eat, after which I changed into my red plaid pajama pants and a more comfortable long sleeved shirt. We were just going to drop them off, and go home after a stop-in at a hobby store. Great.
. . . But of course, as we listened to alittle bit of Tobymac, Manafest, Children 18:3, and Carrie Underwood when they got tired of the harder music, ;) things were talked about and stuff was brought up, and soon we were heading to the bookstore-coffee place to show them where it was. We went in. It was pretty funny, because I’ve never been so dressed-down for going out before. Of course, it wasn’t supposed to be going out, but what’s a bookstore/coffee place run by an older lady? Eh, not bad. Cute place. The girls were teasing me about being in lounge pants when usually I’m . . . not wearing lounge pants out-of-doors far away from home. Haha. It was good, though. Sorry, but the picture of us four is not uploading worth a pound of sand. Darn. So, um, that'll come sometime... ?? Ha, I'll just have a friend post. What a great idea!!! Pictures and everything..... (laughs)
I’m rambling. And not enjoying it. I need to go knit that hat for the new baby some friends just had, and finish reading that Perfecting Kate book…
I’ve been having thoughts on what we act like, say, and do (subconsciously) to impress people and/or so they have a better view of us than what we really are, after being in a quiet place and realizing how _________ we are.
I need to journal. How do I know? Well, I almost went on a 10-mile long rant on how I haven’t read my Bible the past few days and hardly at all this past week, and the fact that I haven’t had any time, as I told Brookie, to be introspective. Not in a strange or new-agey way, but to get quiet and find out what’s been going on inside, what God’s been trying to say . . .
And I have not made time to do that.
I would love to call myself introspective.
But lately, heck no.
Even though I’ve been really liking these books I’ve been reading, I can’t wait till I’m done with this last one. I’ll be back to my normal list of reading that I’ve had for the past month or so:
Hinds’ Feet on High Places, my Bible, and C.S. Lewis’s Mere Christianity, which I just added because a friend gave it to me after hearing I was looking to buy a copy, snag it off Amazon or ebay. ;) (thank you, PJ!)
. . . Well. I do have a to-do list for tonight, and another thing—go to bed early. As in, in the p.m. Heh heh.
Good night.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010 6:09pm

I have finished the somewhat fluffy books I was reading…. Well, actually…they weren’t fluffy, but they weren’t the meatiest stuff I have or could’ve read. I know that’s defending myself, but…I’m not posting to explain myself away.
I’m just glad I can now focus (I know, I know; that’s my choice, entirely my fault if i'm lacking in that hugely important area, dangit) on reading Hinds’ Feet on High Places, which I was just copying a few quotes out of a moment ago.


 The green valley where all her friends and she had lived was far away behind her. even the mountains were out of sight, and there seemed to be nothing in the whole wide world but the endless sandy desert on one side and the endless sea moaning drearily on the other. [page 80, Hinds' Feet on High Places; Hannah Hurnard]

. . . It sums up right now in an eloquent way. Earlier, on errands with Mom and visiting friends, Anna and I were discussing what we want to do . . . and we have some praying to do. And listening. And waiting. Because really, when you ask for God to help you be more patient, what should come up but a situation to help you –and then you get to choose, sometimes quite painfully, to go through it, hold out on letting your tongue get you in trouble, (ugh that is sooooo hard). . . . .


So. We need to choose. I don’t care if you disagree, because I know I’m right. And heck, we all know (well, I mean, my family and I know) that I suck most of the time, am mediocre some of it, and brilliant a very small amount of that last unnamed portion of ‘sometimes.’ Brilliant, as in, choosing the right thing, being kind instead of biting someone’s head off, going when called instead of worsening the situation by making them call for me a hundred and one times. It’s all these little occasions of irritating –you or them, both ways—that can and will strengthen your character. Gosh, I sound as if I’m a . . . self help person or something. I’m not. And I’m just getting a hold of the idea of all this . . . even though, say, I’ve had Ephesians 4:32 memorized since I was a little kid picking fights and being picked on by siblings and making tiffs happen on the spot and trying to get my own way, etc.


Just want you to know and see that having scripture memorized doesn’t make you that…but it reminds you of what to aspire to, what the standard is, and eventually it’ll make some amount of sense to you.
....Going off to make a mug of green tea --or maybe just get a huge glass of water. :) I'm not addicted, folks. No need for worrying about me. (laughs)
Wellllll. Have a good night. :) See ya later.