Truth Thursdays

It's truth-telling time again, so here goes:

• In lieu of candles, I use tape.  Makes finding tape easy and is a fun conversation piece.
  

• I'm a horrible driver.  My friends insist on driving when we go anywhere together. I'll admit I'm a bit absentminded.  Being directionally impaired doesn't help either.
  

• One of my favorite bookstores is closing and I'm sad.  Very sad.  My family went to say goodbye this weekend and we bought books on their 40% off sale.  The sale was nice, but it didn't make up for the fact that I'm now minus a bookstore.  WHAAA! 

• I have bottles of acrylic paint piled high in a punch bowl on my art table. (You can see it in the corner of the tape picture above)

• I wore glitzy ballet-type shoes to an uppity banquet the other night only to look down and discover the jewels had fallen out and in their place were gaping holes. Zikes!  I kept my legs under the table for the rest of the night.

Jennifer introduced me to Truth Thursdays and this is her birthday week so go check out her blog, Unedited!
Are there any truths you'd like to share?

Dream, Believe, Love

Spring has awakened my love for flowers and sunny blue skies.  See how the girl is dreaming?  She's full of hope and expectation.

Her hair reminds me of ancient Egypt for some reason; but when I painted it I was thinking of sunshine and daisies.

Can you see hidden messages on the flower?  Each pedal holds one of these words: love, fly, believe, dream, give, surrender, hope, imagine.


What says "Spring" to you?

Nearly There

I gaze into what appears to be a repetition of dots and patterned paper.

"Stare at one place," my friend says.

I pick a dot near the middle.

"Now stare until your eyes go fuzzy but keep looking."

I stand and stare.  I see nothing but patterned paper.  I hear a woman exclaim next to me that she sees it.  I stare harder unsure of what to expect.  How can there be a picture hidden in all this?  I've heard people describe it but I don't understand. My eyes get fuzzy.  I feel the lurch of expectation.

"Mom, can we go now?" my daughter asks.

"Hang on," I say.  But the distraction makes me lose my place and now everything is clear again.  Rats, I was nearly there.  I relocate my place in the middle of the picture and explain to my younglings that Mommy HAS to do this before we can leave.  They groan at my determination.

I stare. Ignoring the voices and movement around me, I stand for an eternity. My feet grow tired and my eyes are watering mascara down my face.  I begin to lose interest, and that's when it happens.  

A world opens up like I've slipped inside and all around me stand animals: tigers, elephants, and giraffes!  I scream and keep staring, afraid my motion will take it all away.  But I'm in now.  And I find to my delight that not only can I see the 3-D in this picture, but I quickly find the hidden pictures inside frames lined along the wall.  It's as if I've been initiated into a secret society and can read all the codes now.

Right now my life is like that day.  I'm staring into the creative picture. I'm ignoring the voices of criticism and doubt.  Process is happening, my focus is changing; I feel a new world about to open up at any moment.  I'm waiting and staring.  I'm nearly there.

Truth Thursdays (I Sneeze in Tens)

I am having such fun with these truth-telling days.  Not that I don't normally tell the truth (snort), but it's fun sharing my oddities with all of you.  Jennifer at Unedited introduced me to this brilliant idea (thanks girl!).  So without further ado, here are my truths:

• I had my FIRST ever pedicure during Spring Break at the insistence of my twin sister.  Massage chairs, salt rubs and beautiful toes--what was I waiting for????  

(You knew there was no way I'd photograph a real bee, right?)

• I'm terrified of bees.  Got into a nest of them when I was a little girl and haven't forgotten. *shivers* 

 

• I don't love ice cream.  Or maybe I should say it doesn't love me. *ahem*  

• I sneeze in tens.  Seriously.  Okay not always, but lotsways. 

• Every night daughter#2 asks what my favorite color is since it changes daily.  (In case you're wondering, today it's fuchsia)

What about you?  Any truths you'd like to share?  *points finger* Come on, you know you want to.

Choose Your Own Pre-Order Giveaway at Night Writer

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Hope Leaves Her Mark

Hope

 

is unstoppable.

 

She flies in the face of adversity

and leaves her mark.

There's a line in the song When You Believe that says, "Though hope is frail, it's hard to kill."  I love those words.  With all the tragedy in our world lately, these thoughts keep coming to my mind.

What gives you hope?

Free

I stood with my cheeks flushed.  She'd done it again; shrinky-dinked me into a lesser version of myself and I'd let her do it.  I hated myself for that and wondered what it'd be like to be free.

"So?" she asked, eyebrows perched in judgment.

I nodded my grown head like a little girl.  And I seethed.  The deepest part of me roiled and screamed.  I wanted to belt an Evanescence song at her.  But I did nothing.

That night I stared sleeplessly at the popcorn ceiling.  Weeks after, I still cringed at the thought of that moment and the mounds of moments collected through my life, all of them muddled into one scathing pile. Something had to change.  I shivered as a terrifying thought hit--it had to be me.

It started slow: a refusal to nod, an absence of agreement, a "no".  At first like pushing a boulder uphill but soon like chasing it down a slope.

I still wonder what freedom could feel like. But I'm beginning to understand little trinkets of it.  I don't cringe at insults; their lies aren't my truth.  I don't cower from displeasing; I speak from the heart.  I stand when I used to run.  I fight when I used to wilt.

These changes have come softly, painfully and beautifully with time.  The patches are off my eyes.  I'm becoming free.

Spring Break Blog Break

I'll be unplugged here in blogland since I'm playing with my family this week.  Whoohoo for Spring Break!!

I wish everyone a week filled with sunlight, soft breezes, good friends and fun times.

Big?

I feel a shift.  It's coming from the nudges in my heart.  I'm nervous about telling you this.


I want to write and I do write, everyday.  But I also want to paint.  Why does that make me feel like a traitor?  


I struggle with thinking that if I focus on another thing, my writing will take a backseat.  But I know that's not true.  I love it too much.


I'm new in this journey of painting and feel like a complete amateur.  A kindergartner sitting with college art students.  I don't feel like I belong.  But I didn't feel like I belonged in the writer's world when I started writing.


So I'm listening to the nudges in my heart.  I did a dorky little ceremony today to symbolize that I will take my art as seriously as I've taken my writing.  I put on a silver necklace with these words carved into it: dream, smile, laugh.   It's a reminder that I'm pursuing yet another part of my dreams.  


I will split my two loves in half and give equal portions of time to each of them.  It's difficult for me to admit I want to paint to all my dear bloggy friends. I don't know why.  I'm afraid, I guess.  Taking chances like this are big for me.   I'd always wanted to be a writer.  I didn't plan on wanting something else just as much.  I shouldn't feel like a traitor I suppose; I just want two things instead of one.


Why am I telling you this?  Because you've always been such a supportive and loving creative community.  You've encouraged me when I needed a pick-me-up and cheered at my victories.  I guess I'm asking you to walk with me through this transition of becoming a writer and an artist.

Do you have more than one dream?  What nudges in your heart are you following or want to follow?

Truth Thursdays

Jennifer at Unedited introduced me to Truth Thursdays - so here's the truth:

1.  I'm terrified of Ferris Wheels.
2.  One of my favorite movies is Peter Pan (not the cartoon).
3.  I always opt for a straw when drinking from a restaurant cup (germaphobe).
4.  I'm a klepto when it comes to nice or funky pens (so hide your favorites).
5.  As a child I wanted to make up a word that would end up in the dictionary.  And since many letter combinations had been used, my words were mostly consonants: lrgh, blske, fmsa.  (Don't ask for definitions because I won't tell you, ahem)

Which Character? Wednesday

Introducing our two contestants:

• The teenage girl standing in front of school breaking down in a not-so-dancer-like way to apparently no music.

OR

• The cheerleader mom in the white suburban who has "Will Work for Nickelback" on the rear window. 

Which one is your pick?

Interview with a School Marm

photos taken from the Cherokee strip museum website

My son and I went back into the year 1910 yesterday.

We went to Rose Hill, a one room schoolhouse.  His class dressed the part and looked adorable!  They had to wear authentic 1910 attire (long dresses, bonnets, braids, boys in flannel shirt or t-shirts, hats or suspenders).  The School Marm remained in character the entire time  The kids were terrified (I was too). ;)  She lightened up a LITTLE towards the end.

Afterwards I talked with the School Marm and here's the short interview:


How long have you been a School Marm?

Five years.

Have you ever had difficulty controlling a class?

(Her mouth dropped open, appalled)  Of course not, Ma'am!  I keep complete control of the class.  No scholar is allowed to be disrespectful in my room.  (I agree!  The kids were silent.  Even the normally rowdy ones sat perfectly still and mesmerized)

Are you married?

No. If I married, they would fire me.  It's not right for a woman to teach when she has a husband and household to care for.

Do you enjoy your break when the children have recess and lunch?

I am not a slacker Ma'am.  Of course I go out to play with the children as any good school marm would.  (She did.  She taught them how to play with hoops and sticks, a merry-go-round thing and stilts.)

It was obvious this school marm liked her job.  I enjoyed watching her.  She had the kids in her grasp from the moment they lined up at her door (and the sponsors too).  No one made a peep in that classroom!  But the bus ride home was buzzing with stories from the day.

Raw

I hate confrontation.

The clash of two sides disagreeing leaves me vulnerable, terrified and raw.  My instinct is to flee and hide.  I want my wound to stay hidden.

But hiding only lends itself to mildew, cobwebs and pain.  How can restoration happen in a hole?  Who can love me if I'm invisible?  I must risk the chance and bear the loss of what my words may cause.

I open my heart a sliver and share, venturing into the unknown.  The walls I've built are high as canyons, but I leap and believe in the wings that hold me.

Whether they love me or reject me; I'll fly.

Illustration Friday

Truth Thursdays

Jennifer at Unedited introduced me to Truth Thursdays - so here's the truth:

1. I sprinkle cinnamon on my coffee grounds before brewing - my version of Snickerdoodle coffee.
2. Raggedy Ann sits on top of my writing desk.
3. I wrote my first book in the 4th grade (illustrations included).  The title? The Long and Hard Journey.  Haha. 
4. I think I'm part-fairy because I saw four mushroom rings in one year.  (Never been brave enough to step inside one)
5. I don't like surprises, unless I expect them.

Got any truths to share?

Which Character? Wednesday

Introducing our two contestants:

• The elderly woman with a walker who takes an outside stroll each afternoon from the back door to the front.

OR

• The male biker dressed in leather pants who tells you what aisle the wavy scrapbook scissors are on.

Which character would you want to read about?  Which one offers the juiciest story idea?


Note: I forgot to add "male" to the biker, thanks Myrna!

Do You Long for the Simple Life?

One dress.
Two rooms.
Vegetables from the garden.
Games in the backyard. 

At times, these thoughts appeal to me and I wonder if I should've been born centuries ago when women didn't have clothes to coordinate; they had one or two dresses.  No large house to maintain, only one or two rooms.  No chains of grocery stores to find the right bargain, they plucked from their garden.  No sport practices, the kids played outside in the fields.

As much as I'd like to say that's how I want to live,  I can't imagine one lone hook for a closet.  Meals from the garden sound scrumptious, but I've never gardened a day in my life.  My house isn't huge but I'm not sharing one room with the whole family.

Then I read about the Little Brown Dress Project. Just, WOW.

So I'm cleaning out again and hoping for a modified simple life.  One that grasps the hand of the past but embraces the change of the future.

What about you?  Do you long for the simple life?  Or enjoy the niceties of this age?