Just as I became quite sure than my brain couldn't handle another precalculus formula or exploration into the deeper meaning of Shakespeare, the semester is mercifully coming to an end. While I haven't had time for blogging, I have been taking my camera out more. Without realizing that I was living my mission stated so briefly in a past post.
The two main adventures now documented are going collard green picking with bro2 and the dadperson and making Thanksgiving. I'm trying to decide how I should present them besides just uploading them to flickr. Some sort of montage maybe. A video-y thing? I don't know.
I am coming to accept that I love capturing moments, even if no one captures mine. I'm accepting me. It's a beautiful thing.
Post Picture:Me...sometime during Thanksgiving day preparation. Stole a moment to smile for the camera.
A substitute for the word "use" to be employed when you want to make something sound more important or difficult than it really is.
Person says: "We utilize an alphabetical schematic to organize our records."
Translate: "We file documents alphabetically."
via Urban Dictionary
Must describe my like for this beyond 'so pretty!' It totally is. A- I like that the designer went to such great lengths to make that little chunk of silver look like a gem. 2- It's pretty.
Available at Macha Jewelry.
From ages 9-13 I'd go to church camp for a week with my BFF. There were poked at bad food with our forks, ate too much candy, talked late into the night, swam, canoed, sat by campfires, played scavenger hunts and lived out doomed romances. (not i. i didn't need a long-distance relationship at 10.) The summertime fun I had there still comes to mind and makes me smile.
It was at camp that I first attempted photography in a more artistic sense. My aunt had given me a camera when I was about 8. So along with my clothes, multiple bottles of bug spray and extra socks, my parents would give me a roll of film. My camera, however, didn't stand up to the klutzy wear-and-tear I gave it. The back would flop open, ruining those exposures and I'm not sure it really understood the concept of focusing. Still...a love was born. My camptime infatuation. With photography.
I took the above picture with that pink kid's camera. I've always also been enamored with sunsets. This is from the back deck of the mess hall at camp, out toward the lake I refused to swim in. I was too cool. When I got the prints back, after sifting through the double-exposed and blurry candid shots of my cabin mates I saw this one. Paused. And decided I wanted to learn to take more pictures like that.
In the course of life, photography got back-burned. It was part fear, part lack-of-knowledge and resources. I came across this picture looking for one to post for a flashback. And my teenage promise came back to my ears. I promised myself I would learn. And to a degree I have. Now, to keep going.
Elbert Green Hubbard, 1856 - 1925
I'd been feeling a little stagnant in nearly every way. I just didn't seem to be accomplishing things that I'd had on my mental to-do list, the big one I dare not utter, full of tough tasks I couldn't bare to fail attempting. I'm on myself to do more, to be better (probably harder than I need to). But no amount of thinking could make the smallest chink in the seemingly insurmountable wall that was blocking me from 'being all I could be'. What was the hold up?
Then by divine chance, I saw this print, (On Twitter...love my tweetpals) and made one of a handful of impulse purchases. It struck a chord with me as that idea, of fearing mistakes, has been a fear of mine since I was a child. Through some self-assigned tasks, I'm slowly deciding that I need to conquer that fear in order to simply live. Fear has a way of growing and becoming inconvenient and unmanageable. Finding this print shrank that wall to a leapable height. Am I ready? Set? To go for it all?
GIVEN: I like to sit on the floor to work. I like to spread out my crap, lay down if want. Can't do that at a table.
I fancy myself something of a writer. I'm not entirely sure why. I know I feel I communicate better when I write than when I talk. I've never had anything published other than blog posts...never even finished much. Which is why the goal I set for the summer, to finish putting to paper one of my tales is rather outlandish.
So the picture above is what frustration looks like. I write best in notebooks...for the first draft at least. One paper, there's something elementary. But the last few days, the words haven't been coming. So I'd wake up and stare at the mess, and try to ignore it. This shouldn't be this difficult, I thought. Then a little voice said...
It wasn't meant as a taunt, but a challenge to my growing pity party. Why shouldn't this be difficult, this writing a book? It made me stop...think, change my outlook. This has been the way of things this summer.
I'm back, after a short jaunt to NY/NJ to visit my cousin for her birthday. We went to Six Flags, which was fun after it stopped raining. Somewhere between riding the Runaway Mine Train and Bizarro...I lost my cell phone.
Immediately upon realizing it was lost I fell into a sort of depression. My cousin and her friends consoled me with mournful looks and stories of how they'd lost/destroyed phones in the past. The mood of our little party changed. I called my parents to let them know to call my cousin and not me...my efforts to cut off a freak-out on their part. I filed a missing property report.
Since then I've had at least two dreams involving losing other possessions or earning enough money to buy a new phone. (I'm in the middle of a contract and the warranty expired. It's either full price or cheap replacement). I called the lost & found department at the park, left a message with my name and number and even managed to find the info with my phone's serial number on it. I hoped and prayed.
I don't like this. This 'missing-an-arm' feeling I have without my phone. For the record, I didn't call very many people. It's just how I am...I don't call, I text/email/write. I'm not a salesperson, I have no office to carry with me. I would have said a week ago that I could live without it. I'm living, but I'm grieving its loss in a way that is probably unhealthy. That annoys me.
When did it change? When did I change? When did I become a drone of society, addicted to technology? I've long been aware that I have a fascination with the Internet. But I justified it by believing that I used it for work (Etsy, eBay). When did I get dependent on a cell phone that I don't even use that much? I can come up with a list of reasons why I need a new one. First, because we only have one car and four drivers in my family so living takes a lot of coordination. But people lived for centuries before this without a cell phone. To do so now is to be behind the times.
I don't miss the stress of making sure I had it with me, or making sure I checked it periodically because when I'm home I don't keep it on me. I don't miss worrying if it was charged, wondering if it was taking pictures of the inside of my purse. I don't miss the problems it would cause when a text didn't go through, or someone didn't answer, or I forgot their number or couldn't understand a voicemail...or the Hispanic family that called looking for 'Luisa'. (I guess she had the number before me).
So it is a give and take, I suppose. I will get a new one. Pay phones are decreasing in availability. Stores don't like to let customers use their phones, nor do strangers. Carrier pigeons and flares are out of style and/or hazardous.
But I will also continue to wonder about how I'm influenced by what 'they' decide I need. I will be more careful. I will try to weigh the pros/cons before diving into the next cool thing. And I will strive to get more grounded, to *gulp* unplug to recharge, to reconnect with the real world, the tangible world, to get my head (and heart) out of the electronic (tag)clouds.
Photo credit: me! -cell phone I lost
I had set up this summer to find ways to finish projects started long ago. Then I got two colds in the space of one month. (summer colds are a different kind of evil) I've ended up finding out things about myself, instead...and then working on ways to change them, live with them, grow from them. It is diff.i.cult. I'm not sure I'm getting anywhere and I know I get on myself too much.
Change happens slowly. And though I rarely use ours, I'm a product of the microwave generation. I like things to happen quickly and fairly easily. The road to self-improvement is neither. I'm getting there...I'm trying. That's what counts.
Photo Credit: Podbean
By Its Cover is independent book review column. Selections are mostly made based on the book's cover. I'm testing the old saying in my quest to find new favorite authors and books.
This one I totally picked due its cover...and because it had a uber-minor mention of Connecticut. Enjoy!
Title: The Cheese Monkeys
Author: Chip Kidd
I think this book marks the first time that upon completion my reaction couldn't be clearly placed on the love/hate spectrum. I didn't clutch it lovingly to my chest as I would have Jane Eyre. I didn't want the hours back that I'd spent reading it like I did when I finished The Little Town that Stood Still (I still contend that something was lost in translation with that one). It was not a feeling of pride for having finished as with Dickens. It wasn't passing neutrality as with chick lit. I paused, turned the tome in my hands and thought.
It's a beautiful book, in the physical sense. Kidd, it turns out, is a well-known graphic designer turned novelist. So this story probably has some autobiographic touches. I want a copy just to look at the cover art and the arrangement of the droll, expected, skipped-over bits of the book (acknowledgements printed along the covers edge, the image-based titling). Normally writers are concerned with carefully piecing their plot points. Kidd took an extra step to tweak the layout of the age-old novel. The risk was worth it.
As for content, the enigmatically named book (he never does fully explain cheese monkeys but that's not point) tell the tale of a nameless protagonist during his first year at a state university. He's studying art, to the discomfiting chagrin of his parents and the disillusion humor of himself. Kidd made me laugh by page 10. He kept me turning the pages, sneaking away to find out what odd assignment or social snafu would happen next. I yielded my emotions to his words, cringed and cracked up on cue. He won.
It shows the extremes of art (and in that way...of life), from hare-brained conceptualism to harsh thought-driven design. Another critic called The Cheese Monkeys a 'coming-of-age story'. I'm not sure it goes far enough to be that to me. The main character does come into the story a 'wide-eyed' youth and by the end is a little...well, experienced. But the book and its collection of characters and their lessons did make me think, they evoked emotion, horrified, thrilled and shocked me...the way art should.
I love this! I make to-do lists all the time on little scraps of paper. Sometimes I lose them. This nifty board can be carried alone, some enterprising DIY-er could add magnets or something to the back to let it be adhered to a wall or some such surface. And it saves paper.
>From Three by Three Seattle
Tia of Christopher and Tia does a series called 'Friday Flashbacks'. The subject of the post is something from her and/or her family's past. I've enjoyed reading her posts and thought about participating but wasn't sure what to write.
Then I listened to the Doomhouse podcast episode regarding earliest memories. That got me to thinking about mine.
I'm the oldest of three children. And aside from a memory snapshot of me sitting in a stroller with my mom and aunt in a Wendy's...my earliest memories have to do with my oldest younger brother, referred to here as Bro1.
This is a hybrid memory, meaning I know part of it happened, but it's meshed with this picture...before the picture at the top of the post could have happened. I remember having a dream about my little brother, someone my mom said I could play with. I was about 2 at the time, and we were chasing each other in my dream. I didn't quite understand that he would be born a baby and have to grow up into a kid I could play with. I told my mom of my confusion when she showed me baby Bro1. In the dream I remember, we're wearing these outfits. There occurs the meshing. So either I really remember us chasing each other...or I've seen this picture so many times it's fused with that dream.
This one I never told anyone until after hearing the podcast...so it's like 20 years old but I know it happened. I woke up from a nap one day, probably closer to the age I am in that photo, late 3yo/early 4yo.
I guess my mom had taken Bro1 downstairs already because I don't remember him being in the room. I wondered why it was like to be him. So I crawled into his crib/toddler bed. I could then see the room from where he would if he was in the crib. But I knew it wasn't the same...because I was still me. I would never really know what the world looked like to him. Yes, I was quite the existential thinker at 3.
And the whole 'do others really exist?' 'what goes on when I'm not there' conundrum has puzzled me my whole life. Only a few weeks ago, when I shared this memory with my mom for the first, did I found out that she's wondered the same sort of thing formost of her life as well. What was that saying about the apple and the tree?
So those are my two earliest memories. You can share yours in the comments section if you wish. You can also read other Friday Flashbacks on Tia's blog and/or listen to the Doomhouse podcast on their website.
Photo:Me and Bro1 circa...1989/1990?
I'm constantly trying out different websites. I have more accounts around the Internet then I know what to do with. Occasionally I fairly fall in love with them. Such was the case with Etsy and Thisnext. Such is the case with a site called Goodreads.
Goodreads appeals to the book-loving part of my personality. You can rate and share books you've read, want to read or are currently reading with your friends. As is the way with many sites now you can link your Goodreads profile to your profiles around the 'net...Facebook, Twitter...Myspace (people still have those?). I haven't explored it to the fullest yet. But I can see it becoming a valued neighbor in the little village of sites I frequent.
See my Goodreads profile.
Really should have posted this as a weekend blurble, the cumulative posts I do to cover happenings of the weekend, but I'm a little lazy with this heat.
Went to see Toy Story 3 with some friends on Friday, marking the first time I saw a movie on opening day. The theater was packed. I was pleasantly surprised to find that we didn't really stick out as a group of 10 20-somethings, a teenager (Bro2) and a 3-year-old. There were a lot of non-kids there. And Disney Pixar didn't disappoint.
I won't give away the plot. It was a real treat, appealing completely my nostalgic side...or core. I'm pretty nostalgic. There was the adventure, like the others, of the toys getting lost and trying to get back home. But it was brilliantly done, not flawlessly but sprinkled with moments to laugh, moments to applaud, moments to very nearly cry. I'd mark it a win.
So, I'm having camera issues. The camera works. The computer works...most of the time. But the two don't like to work together. It's killing my mojo to blog and to create more things for elpy. Posts without pics, like this one, can be dull. I'll be trying to get it fixed. Seeing if I can find my card reader...which my tech-savvy dad is the better way to transfer pics anyway.
On to summer!
It got me to thinking, which is dangerous for my multiple-all-nighter comatose-y brain (thank you finals week), that someone should start a company and called it Work. Then people would say, "I'm going to Work," and it would have all kinds of double meanings. What kinda company Work should be?
This weekend was all preparation for Sunday, it being Easter, dad's birthday...and opening day for Major League Baseball (go Yankees!). Also had a group project to work on for web design class. It's cool to more about what to look for to resolve code issues. Group projects as an idea is something I'm vehemently against...at commuter schools anyway, for once-a-week classes. They're just a pain to coordinate. But I think we'll get it done.
Much fun and cake! Hope your weekend was good as well.
Post Picture: I made up a Gift Certificate in Photoshop as a present for my dad. He wants to go shooting.
I also started walking again...and riding my bike and adding some jogging into my walks. Seeing me run is probably not the prettiest thing at the moment. But this is an epic step because for years I have hated running. I'm trying to be more active.
It was a good week. Now back to work.
darlins by elpy
By Its Cover is independent book review column. Selections are mostly made based on the book's cover. I'm testing the old saying in my quest to find new favorite authors and books.
Title: Notes of a Baseball Dreamer
Author: Robert Mayer
Robert Mayer grew up a fan of the Brooklyn Dodgers, from childhood until they moved to LA. This book is a memoir, chronicling his life and his passion for his team(s) and the game. Told in 9 chapters and an epilogue and prologue (pre- and post- game?), Mayer carefully recounts his days as a child in the Bronx as a Brooklyn Dodgers fan and all the pain that entitled. The memoir continues through to present day (at the time of publication), covering not just his dedication to mastering the game but also other milestones of life: being in high school, first love, losing a parent, getting married...finding yourself. All is intertwined and often related back to some aspect to the game, but it's done subtly, tastefully. His multiple timelines carried out in each section with each story with each chapter, each scene, being meticulously crafted, stitched together, completing itself...something like a baseball.
This book moves me to the point where I feel anything I type will not do it justice. I'm a baseball fan, for the team that Mayer hates (Yankees). During a not-so-good time in my life, the daily games of baseball, tracking the players and the teams were the only thing I cared about. Then came winter...and no baseball. So I made frequent trips to the library reading books about baseball to fill the void. That's when I found this book, under it's old title Baseball and Men's Lives: True Confessions of a Skinny-Marink. I was...at the title of this blog suggests...intrigued by the title. 'Skinny-marink' had been part of a song I'd learned as a child. But I never knew what it meant. Unfortunately Mayer doesn't either.
I'm currently on my second reading and I'm finding it just as transporting as the first time. Gone are the days when baseball alone filled my life. I have school, and a budding craft business...or two. This book is still dear to me. Normally, I don't go for memoirs or non-fiction books. But this one is special. It's the only book that I've gotten from the library and then had to purchase for myself. The list of other library 'must-haves' is short.
2009 was a rough year. In many ways, I helped it by being rather complacent...and mistaking it for contentment. There were good things about last year as well. I got my driver's license, went back to school, won $500 in the Etsy video contest. But largely I let the misfortune I faced keep me down. Now I'm efforting to come back.
I'm making new pieces for the elpy shop. Had a home show with my mom a few weeks ago and whipped a few long-standing but unstarted ideas. I'm pleased with them. Above is a new necklace that I'm calling 'breta' in a letter-jumble tribute to my mom since they were her beads. (She wanted me to destash them but...they're too pretty.) I have a red one to list soon too...and match earrings. I'm all about sets.
New ideas are flooding my brain almost faster than I can make note of them. Part of me thinks that I went back to school at entirely the wrong time as it eats up a large portion of each day. But then I think that school is helping to inspire me (though I have yet to take an art class...nervous). Academic learning keeps me brain active and then I need to create something unrelated to school as an outlet. It's a sort of cerebral symbiosis. I wouldn't be the same without one or the other.
Also, changes are afoot as far as blog template is concerned. Don't be worried you've found the wrong blog if things appear vastly different in the next few days and weeks. I'm experimenting.
Tara of Scoutie Girl posted today about being a morning person. Everything she described about the early morning before her family is awake is exactly who I feel about working on my craft business late into night.
From about 3 in the afternoon is my prime thinking time. Most of the hours before that, and definitely the ones before 9 in the morning are blur. (If ever you see a new post published before 9 AM on any of my blogs know that it was scheduled...mostly written late the night before.) My brain kicks up a gear and revs with ideas and thoughts for new and old projects. All the tedium of classes and bus rides, homework and housework has largely been completed and now...I can craft.
I like the quiet of my house at night. During the day it's bumbling with five human occupants and one 10-ish-year-old cat who still randomly runs from room to room. At night, when everyone else is in bed...there's a peace. I don't have to jockey for the computer or the TV (I need background noise when I work.) I kinda have free reign. I can spread my stuff out and not get in anyone's way. It's nice.
I guess, in a sentence, I prefer sunsets to sunrises.
photo courtesy: Anthony Arrigo- www.astrophotography.com
I'm here...and not here. It suddenly got really hard to share a computer with 4 other internet-dependent people. (that being my family. and we have more than one PC but the in-house network isn't hooked up properly)
New work almost ready for elpy. Exciting things going on at Minifolk. Where it all lead? Only time will tell.
Doomhouse is a new podcast by Twitter/Etsy pal Tinaseamonster and two her friends. A random topic is presented with a story by one of the hosts or a listener. The second episode's topic regarded which country do you love other than your own. It made me think...
In September of 2007 I went to Montreal with my cousin. We only stayed overnight but I fell in love. I even blogged about it when I came back. I don't speak French at all. I'm not a huge fan of living further north than Connecticut (where I currently live). But Montreal calls to me. It was a milestone trip for me: first time out of the country, first time on a trip without parents or older people because...we are adults now. That revelation was both cool and empowering with dashes of 'Holy Hannah! Say what?!'
Our intention was to go the clubs, another first for homebody me. That was kind of a fail. But I just enjoyed looking around and seeing new things, riding in a minivan taxi, listening the French conversations I didn't understand, taking the metro and eating one of the most delicious sandwiches I've ever had in my life. (at Cafe L'etranger)
It's not a I-hate-America-I'm-going-Canada thing. The city has a sort of old-world/new-world vibe that isn't as present in America...at least not the parts I've visited. So maybe it was that foreign-ness, the bilingual-ness of it all that intrigued me. Or maybe it was that moment of magic when I was standing in the Notre Dame Cathedral. I had put together a jigsaw puzzle of the same view that I now saw for myself. I was in a photograph. It cemented for me that the places I see in magazines, pictures and movies do really exist, people really do live there just as normally as I live in Connecticut. Going there changed my perspective a little, widen it, grew me up.
I'm not sure if I would move to Montreal. Again...you know, the whole cold temperature thing. But I want desperately to go back. I want take my mom and my camera since both had to stay home on that first trip. (So I have only memories, a coffee mug and a keychain to remember the trip.) She's an artist and knows French and I know we'd have a good time. I want to see if it still feels culturally different but in a sort of welcoming way. Until then, I will content myself with loving it from afar.
Asymmetry is a fave design feature of mine. I adore it. Huge collars are a hit with me as well. All the more to pin cute buttons to. So this little dress has me won over. With a print motif that can cross seasons...it'd make a great new addition to any wardrobe.
Had a small home show to do and a bunch of school projects to finish. Now I have some new things to share. The creative life never ceases to amaze.
Post Picture: Cards from Adele of Modernemotive. Her shop's in hiatus but you can read her blog.
I have a lot of reading to do for school. Today was a snow day. (Commuter colleges have those) It didn't end up snowing much. I didn't end up getting much reading done. Tinkered with my code here. (Notice how the background is white again?) Uploaded pics to my Photo a Day collection. And I bought a ton of supplies and new business cards for a home show I'm doing with my mom for a friend of the family.
Still I feel like I'm falling behind. No matter how much I do, there's always more to do. Blogging and journaling are the first things I abandon, though they should be the things I cling to. I know I will want to look back on these days, to remember where I've been. I need that record. And writing has always been cathartic for me. (It's why I tweet so much.)
So I have a couple of post ideas. I will try to get to them in the next few weeks. I have a lot of ideas in general. *sigh* I need to take one of those breathers I mentioned a few posts ago, to push irrelevant things to the side and focus on what's important. I also want to learn to appreciate the journey more. Things take time...sometimes more than I'd like. But that's okay. It's okay.
Post Picture: Me studying...while tweeting, and reading blogs, and playing Farmville, and editing pics...and on and on.
I chunky rings. This is a lovely heavy metal style. Adore!
From Missy Industry
If the opening paragraph isn't proof enough, the biggest obstacle facing my craft life and life in general is how much I think. Even with this post and the subject of overcoming obstacles, I was debating which obstacle to choose. Most days it doesn't seem like I've overcome anything. I'm still trying to figure out my style and what techniques I want to continue to use, which techniques I'm willing to let go. I'm still trying to figure out where to promote, how to promote. Marketing is a challenge because funding is a challenge...it's a cycle.
It all get piled onto my worry wheel...as I posted about earlier. I get carried away and stress myself out and get nothing done and write long run-on sentences that leave my gasping for breath but I just can't stop until I have...FIGURED IT OUT!
This is an obstacle I have to take on daily. I have analyst genes. At times I need to let it go, like at the beginning of this post even, and say, 'What does it matter?' Too often the things I think about don't really matter. And for the decisions that are weighty...I can call in reinforcements. Yes, there's the 'too many cooks in the kitchen' cliche. But one person (me)can't figure out everything. I have to remind myself of this. It's acceptable even preferable to ask others who've worked with Gallery XYZ what they think, how the curator handled their work, what the traffic in the area was like; or who advertised on Blog Art/Craft/Design, Etc. how it went. I don't need to mirror others, but involving myself in the community of artists/crafters/designers who are willing to offer help and insight builds the community. (I believe the business term is networking.)
So I will continue to work through the e-book. The posts inspired by it will be tagged BYP. (see below) I will also endeavor, as often as the need arises, to slow down my thought process, to choose action instead. If I mess up, which is my biggest fear, I will try again. And I'll share it with you, dear readers, here.
I'm not normally a dressy girl, but this one is so dramatic, I had to share it here. I love the drape along the back and flarey flowiness of the skirt. (Click through to see other pics) It's beautiful.
School's in session so that means I'm spending much of my weekend doing homework. I only have three classes this semester but one's a lab so it's almost like having four.
Other weekend-ish activities included skidding on an ice patch (bro1 and I...in the car), scaring my mom with a dead mouse (bro2...all bro2) and going to lunch with a family from church (perhaps I shouldn't have put eating after the dead mouse bit). Anyway, I hope to get back into blogging. (Man, how many times I have said that.) I'm learning the beautifulness that is scheduled posting. I have the time to create posts on other days, then I just forward date to make it miraculously appear. It's genius and will save my blogging skin.
To the new week!
Post Picture: Me coloring a map for geography class.
I'm an indie-preneur, a micro-business owner constantly looking for ways to promote my work. I started this column, Seller Tips, to help me keep track of my findings and to pass them on to you.
[what's it called] 52 Weeks of Blogging Your Passion
[where'd I find it] Twitter
['splain it please] Break through blogger's block and write about your passion more effectively
Yep, my lovelies, this is another spectacular Twitter find. At the end of last year I was searching for this I could do to...be better. Blogging had been become a stumbling block. I wanted to do it better. A few days into my search I saw this e-book. So, know that this is something I'm working through myself both on this blog and the one for the Minifolk.
With a cohesive set of weekly 'assignments' Tara Gentile, the author of Scoutie Girl shows you how to write about what you care about with the same passion that you feel for your work. Tara herself has a passion for blogging and for helping and advocating the indie craft movement. She's written for the Etsy Storque, Modish Biz Tips and Try Handmade in addition to maintaining her own blog, Scoutie Girl.
52 Weeks of Blogging Your Passion is available for just $15. You will also be able to join a support forum to check out the blogs of other readers and gain further tips to blog better. If you're a little apprehensive and wonder just what is in store with this book, you can preview the first month for free! It hooked me.
Vowed to take a pic every day.
The title is a note to self. The list is proof to self that I am doing things even though it may not be everything that I think I should/could/want to do.
One of my new goals is to be content in what I'm doing but not complacent in doing nothing. A second part of that is to stop worrying. I worry a lot. My family's in a prolonged tough spot financially...like 10% of Americans. So I worry about that mostly. But really anything that can add stress to my brain does. My mind goes 8,000 miles an hour from the time I wake up until I final tire myself out and fall asleep. It's no way to live...not healthy at least. (combed out a gray hair the other day. freaked. out!)
I tried it for a second...putting the break on the worry whirlpool. I took a step back and focused on...nothing. A weight lifted, for as cliche as that sounds. Worry is so heavy. I had no idea what to do with the now vacant brainspace. Still haven't figured it out beyond using that energy to do actual work. But I will be striving to keep more of my thinking open to appreciate where I am, what I'm doing, reflect on the positive along with the negative. To take a moment to mentally exhale and dump all the stuff I carry around with me. To breathe.
Post Picture: My rings, nestled in the corner of the kitchen windowsill. I'm hoping the sentiment to worry less is one that will ring true...for all of us.
When I was little I was so confused about the name 'pocketbook' as my mother called her purse. It was too big to fit in her pocket. It wasn't a book. I didn't ask...just figured it was something I would understand when I was older.
This little ditty *is* a book of pockets. Several little compartments sewn together form this gem. I want one...or five. haha!
Hi-de-ho, readers! Back from a weekend of cutting, slicing, gluing and sculpting paper to my heart's delight. In addition to crafting a few more Minifolk (and hopefully obtaining the remaining books for this semester) I will be working a little 'me' project. Did you see this Christmas card ornament tutorial on Scoutie Girl by lillyella? I'm gonna make one. And if it comes out nicely, I make may several and give them to family next year.