Tired. Pooped. Out of gas. Running on fumes. The big “E” is flashing and I’m thinking I have to pull over on the shoulder, but there’s no shoulder. No exit. Nada. Zippo. Ziltch.
Part of it is out of my control. Part of it was caused by a decision I made last night to take a break and go have some fun.
I should’ve just stayed home.
But I didn’t.
I wanted to say home, but I wanted to go. I went because I thought I needed a pick-me-up. Turns out I did indeed have fun. A LOT of fun. But because of an out of my control factor, I only got 3 hours sleep and today was already slated to be stressful. Add to that no sleep and honest to God, I’m an emotional basket case.
I’ve asked God for forgiveness. I’ve asked him for help. Strength. Energy. I’m kinda at wit’s end. I have too many responsibilities today and I know I can’t fulfill them. There are important deadlines and things I cannot ignore, yet, I have nothing to offer anyone or anything.
I’m on E.
And I don’t think I’ve ever been here before.
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The Artist in Me–Continued

Remember this day?

Remember I said that the Flashlight Drawing was my favorite session? I finally went to pick up the disc of our art.

There aren’t many things that interest me more than writing, photography, and art. If I had to live my days as the starving artist, I believe I’d choose that over being an Orange County Housewife ANYday. Money doesn’t make me happy. I used to think it would be the bee’s knees and peachy keen to have an endless flow. But then I grew up and got a few gray hairs and learned that while money might make some things easier, it definitely could not satisfy me. If I had mansions and pools and boats and cars and diamonds and florescent white teeth and leathery-tanned skin, and a boob job-wait. I don’t need one of those. So if I had it all…where would I be without my writing? My art? I would most like cease to exist.

So there it is.

If I complain about money again, kindly (or not) remind me of this post. Mmmkay? Thanks.

Back to the Flashlight Drawing.

Pitch black room.
Little flashlights.
Camera on a tripod.


Magic Flashlight drawings!

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The Artist in Me

Valparaiso University Department of Art held their annual (and free!) Draw-a-thon yesterday which focuses on alternative drawing processes.

The first session was Flashlight Drawing, but I can’t talk about that until I receive my disc of artwork the instructor is sending. (It was my favorite session!) But if you look here you might get a taste of what’s to come.

We did a surrealist method called Exquisite Corpses in which a piece of paper is folded in thirds and artists draw either a head, a torso, or feet without having seen the rest of the drawing then pass the sketch to the next artist until it is a wild creature.

Here are a few examples:

This is a head the instructor drew.
Here’s a horse head I drew.

I drew Ghost Lady and she happens to be my favorite, so I brought her home and I’m going to frame her and put her in my office.

I think she has a story to tell.But of course, I’ll have to tell it for her since she has no mouth. (There is a layered meaning here.)

I learned that I want an art studio. And maybe, even if I’m reluctant to admit it because I don’t really believe it, maybe I’m a little bit of an artist on the inside.

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I’m Messy and That’s That

There’s a girlfriend I have, she has this motto: If you’ve come to see my house, make an appointment. If you’ve come to see me, come in! I love her for that. (*waving at JEJ!*)

She’s the most laid back woman I know. Always praising the Creator. Always happy. Always laughing. And she gives the most tremendous hugs. I love her for that, too.

I want to be like her.

Then there’s me. Stressing because someone thinks I shouldn’t have my overwhelmingly weedy garden, I shouldn’t put-up my own veggies, maybe not bake my own biscuits or make my scrumptious apple butter. I shouldn’t homeschool. I shouldn’t write or be an editor. I’m delusional, y’know, trying to do all that stuff.

I do what I love and if it makes someone else uncomfortable, how is that my problem? I’m not breaking the law. I’m not hurting anyone. I mean, really, does a vegetable garden count for making a sister stumble?

I can’t be like you and I don’t expect you to be like me. Let’s embrace those differences. Okay?

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The Fall

Why is it that when I hear sermons about The Fall, when I read about The Fall, and when I’ve done Bible studies that include something about The fall, why is it that they all act as if God didn’t know it was going to happen?

God created everything, God knows all, He’s known me since the creation of time, universe, earth, and so on–but really? He didn’t know Adam and Eve would sin?

I can’t get on that train.

I’ve never heard someone express opinions about the fall that say God created the universe knowing full well the first people would sin and He did it anyway with His divine plan in mind anyway. Nope. I hear them say, God created everything perfect for us and we screwed it up so then He had to come up with the Jesus plan.

Ok, so they don’t say it quite as sarcastically as I, but is my point being made?

Quit acting as if God had to change His plans because we did something that surprised Him.

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