Weary

You know, I was about to start do an entry that was about being weary and with an elaborate explanation about why I probably have been feeling weary the past several weeks. Which then started turning into a moping fest on my end while staring at the screen wondering what I was going to write exactly, and feeling awful while going on a Death Spiral -- you know, the thing that happens when your brain becomes a negativity factory and you can't get out of your head.

I decided I needed to find a different way to write about my weariness, because the other way sure as heck wasn't working.

I haven't been sleeping well for the past few weeks, on and off. I've also had a lot of stress in my shoulders and neck - but that's not necessarily a new thing. I've been worrying about the future in ways that are horribly pessimistic. You know: the Death Spiral. It looks like this:

I can't go out with friends because apparently socializing requires money.
I won't be able to get an art studio again, ever.
I won't be able to make money as an artist because I can't get into galleries, because I can't pay for stupid frames or stupid jury fees.
And who would buy my art anyway.
Oh and while we're at it, we will never be able to get a house because we're forever going to be stuck in the city, making enough money to be paycheck to paycheck. And because we'll never have a house we probably won't be able to start a family either.
And therefore we will never progress as human beings. EVER.

.......

I hate that Death Spiral. It looks a lot more sinister than this, of course... like a shifty shadowy figure that turns out to be a werewolf chasing you until you can't breathe. Or something like that. You get the idea.

Needless to say, I've been weary. Now today in church I had a good reminder of what to do when I'm weary: "Come to me," (that's Jesus talking), "all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28. But let's just be honest. For the past year I've been having a hard time fully trusting Jesus with my life and future. He's still my Savior, who is the only one who can and did die for my sins (even my sin of worrying and not trusting him), but I am having a heck of a time being hopeful for the future when the job I thought I'd do for a long time - college ministry - was gone. Granted, there is a blessing in being shown why I left ministry. It was sucking the life out of me because I was trying to do it on my own power. God was calling me out of it so I wouldn't shrivel up and die, running around like wonder woman as the only campus minister to an entire school. I always thought that having a flexible schedule was awesome, till it started swallowing up every waking hour. I'll tell you one thing though: I was at my lightest weight while I was running around the city to and from meetings with students! Joking aside, I loved spending time with students, but it all became too overwhelming when I also wanted to spend time with my husband and friends. Since I was trying to do things on my own power, and while I was running around like an idiot, I wasn't exactly spending a lot of time with God. 


With that in mind, yes, leaving college ministry was probably the best thing I could do at the time that I left - as much as it sucked and as I felt like a disappointment/failure to my students. At the same time, leaving ministry derailed the way I thought life was going to go. Suddenly I felt thrown to the wolves. Then I got a job, and I've been very blessed to have the job I have. Yet there's still and underlying notion of being thrown to the wolves because Scott has also had his fair share of having plans dashed to pieces and strangely reassembled but still looking a little askew. Or, rather, it's taking a bit longer to get the plans moving than we both anticipated - for various reasons. 


So, here I am, fretting about what in the world the "plan" is. Do I have goals? I don't feel like I do. I have ephemeral aspirations to do "something," "someday," but it's not well defined and there's hardly a path to get to it. I want to do all the things I mentioned previously, but setting goals for those things is sort of beyond me right now. I feel trapped in one place, and I could really use some help seeing what's around me. Like I need a breath of fresh air, a new vision, a renewing in my heart. I want to be able to say from Proverbs 31: 25 that I am a woman who is clothed in strength and has no fear of the future. 


I guess that's where I am right now. I'm stuck, and weary, and I don't want to be anymore.



 "But the harder I try the more clearly can I feel
The depth of our fall and the weight of it all
And so this might could be the most impossible thing
Your grandness in me making me clean
 ...
 I am full of earth and dirt and You"

There are days I feel like a Pollock painting on the inside.

I've said too many times that I always think of tons of things to blog about and never do, and now suddenly it's October and the last thing I wrote was in July. So we'll move past the self pity regarding blogging and get right to self pity about being an artist.

(just kidding. mostly)

You know how some mornings when you wake up to get ready for work, you have a flood of thoughts all at once about one particular thing, and you don't even know how it got implanted in your brain in the first place? And it bothers you for days? No? Okay, well I experience days like that. Recently, I've been thinking about how why as an artist I create things. In particular, the way a selection of drawings/paintings over the course of the past 10 years looks like totally different people made some of them. Actually, even over the past 5 years since college doesn't altogether count. Regardless, it seems pretty in-cohesive. I'm an artist flailing around in the dark, not really totally sure what I want my art to look like, or continue to look like. I'll push it this way, then the other way, and then enjoy each of what was produced.. then later hate that I can't stick with one style. One day it's, "YES, this is what I want!" and the next it's, "AHHHG WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE?!? I FAIL AS AN ARTIST!" and later regain my composure after walking away.

Then again... I'm three years shy of 30, and I would suspect that most artists don't have a set style until well after that - provided they stick to it. But I could be saying that just to make myself feel better. Not sure. While I have friends who are artists, I'm not actually camped in any kind of immediate art community that is helpful in fine-tuning my direction. The Bible talks about ironing sharpening iron in the means of following Jesus faithfully - sticking to community that helps you stay directed. There's a phrase I've heard ad-nauseam (though I do not disagree with it) since college: A lone ranger Christian doesn't survive. Likewise, I think there's a grain of truth to adjusting the phrase that a lone ranger artist doesn't survive. But that kind of seems like an artist's stereotypical M.O.: the one on the OUTSIDE who is secluded and slaving away in the studio rather than have normal social interactions with other people (actually that sounds very much like many computer geeks as well..hmm). I have friends who are artists, some of who I have astounding relationships with and wouldn't trade them for anything. But somehow we rarely intentionally talk about our art in a way that is helpful, nurturing, and challenging. I think we just don't think of it.

As an aside, there actually there IS a community that gets together that I know of, yet guess what: work gets in my way and they all meet outside the city! Curse being city- and budget-bound! But I digress. There's some rumblings amongst those friends about fixing this problem... so I hope it happens soon. Another problem I noticed from my artist friends is that we have grand ideas that somehow never seem to quite come together -- or at the very least, that's me. I don't know how I ever bring a painting from start to finish with that awful character flaw.

I do have one success out of all this confusion. Or, what I consider a success. I haven't had anyone actually critique this painting before because I'm terrified of what might be said. I started this self-portrait at the end of 2007 and it finally worked its way to being finished in 2009. There are a lot of elements of the finished product that I really liked (one of them is not how well I can do a portrait, yuck) and have utilized in other paintings and I keep trying to figure out ways to push those elements. So.. maybe at long last I will have some kind of cohesive style?













































Hooray! Finished product! Now if I could only get money to submit to art galleries.

Bucket List

It's been a while since I really even looked at my "Bucket List of things to do before I turn 30." So I figured I would quickly take a look at what I've done, and what I'd like to edit on my list.

1. Live in a place with free laundry

2. Have a grown-up bed, and not a loft bed We put the mattress on our old futon frame. Not a "grown-up bed" but not a loft anymore! That's half the battle.

3. Have an art studio again

4. Seriously pursue having kids

5. Have a consistent exercise/yoga routine - this one I can't say I've completed, but I have started going to the gym, and have taken yoga classes, and I have gone to one Women & Weights class (next one is this weekend!)

6. Take a self-defense class

7. Take an art course in SOMEthing again

8. Be more at peace with myself and have more joy

9. Go somewhere outside of the US (even just Canada or Mexico)

10. Write at least a draft for the book I've been thinking about

11. Do a professional photo shoot with hubby

12. Own a professional digital camera

13. Find a way to make art & make money in a consistent way

14. Take Spanish classes that will actually be useful in the real world

15. Join an art collective with friends

16. Do some crazy food challenge I realize that doing a food challenge totally contradicts my #19, having a healthier diet, and I only thought of it at the time because I was obsessively watching Man vs. Food. That guy ain't messing around; a food challenge would kill me. Instead, I'd rather: Cook for others, and with others, more.

17. Volunteer with Fleisher Art Memorial again, long-term I have to question if I even have time/energy to do this. Maybe it should be simply: Volunteer.

18. Ideally, live in a house instead of an apartment.

19. Have a healthier diet / eat less processed foods

20. Go to a taping of Conan.

21. Ride a bike in the city - no, really. I'm terrified to do this.

22. Have better posture or work on my posture.

23. Be less cynical. - I am failing miserably at this.

24. Get a professional massage, or have Scott take a massage class. I'm thinking the former is cheaper. Okay, really, I just want to go get a pro massage.

25. Visit my brother more. - I've seen my brother twice since creating this list, which is more than I've seen him in the course of a few months than before writing this list. I'm hoping to keep the momentum somehow.

26. Go camping again (it's been a long time!)

27. Have a mini-garden... or be a part of a co-op. ** Part of this would be to learn HOW to garden. -- I have some herbs growing on the window-sill??

28. Go on a Philadelphia Tour, because I don't know jack about the city I live in.

29. Go on a legit picnic, basket and all.

30. Go to the Empire State Building.

Boiling Point

I don't normally "curse," and try to make it as least commonplace in my vocabulary as possible, opting for either funny or more creative words. But today, for certain, I felt like an ass and definitely behaved in accordance with someone you might call an ass.

I was waiting at the bus stop, minding my own business, when a panhandler came up to me. This isn't uncommon in Philadelphia, and usually I am polite about declining money or even fork over some spare change. Not today. He starts verbatim with how I've been approached before, "Excuse me miss, I have a simple question and I don't mean no disrespect --"

And I cut him off, and ask if he was going to ask me for money, and explained that I have heard other start exactly the same way before.

So he says, "Or I could just have a blessing. I haven't slept, and I don't have a job. I'm sorry, maybe I'll ask more respectfully." Or something to that effect, and he walked away.

Yep. The worst part about it is that I was on my way to try to get to a church related meeting. It was very upsetting, and I surprised myself. I've never been outright such a jerk to someone before - at least, not in a way that I knew it. This time, I was an ass and I knew it. The immediacy of the remorse was overwhelming and I've been upset about it all day. I'm still processing, asking myself where this came from and why I got so defensive? would it have hurt to give him a buck? or to give him the banana I had in my bag? or at least be nice about saying no? What would have been good to reconcile my initial hostility, was to say "You know, let me pray for you right now."

Nope.

You might think I'm overreacting, but it twists me in knots to have been such a glaring misrepresentation of Jesus to somebody. Jesus taught that from out of the mouth the heart speaks. Which, in this instance, means that my heart is not in a very good place and my behavior is following suit. There's something churning deep down that must be desensitized to the needs of others, lacks compassion, and is really getting tired of being approached by strange men who either are going to ask for money or be weird or hit on me.

To see the error so immediately is a stinging slap in the face to wake up. Hello, Heart? Where are you? What's going on? The alarms are going off!

While I'd like to blame that living in Philadelphia has made me more rough around the edges than soft, I know it's not totally true. To go on a quick tangent: I've come to a conclusion that Philly is a hard place to live if you don't like beer -- I can appreciate the appreciation for the craft and art of artisan beer, but I don't like the stuff or generally scenes that come with it. It's kind of isolating, and feels awkward when you're the only one who either wants a soda or a water, since I am also very particular about the girly drinks I do actually like. But I digress, as that's a topic for an altogether different entry. Back to the topic at hand... I could say that getting out of Philly may make things a little better, and those hardened edges will wear down some. But while wanting to move may make it less likely to happen, it doesn't solve the problem of my reaction to such encounters. Adjusting behavior doesn't change what's really going on; if anything, the problem will manifest itself in a different way. I don't know how I got to such a boiling point of being such an outright ass, but I know it's not right. I have some ideas but my compass is totally out of wack.

Paul put it very succinctly in Romans 7: "I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. ... For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing."

He goes on to say that Christ needs to intervene and through the Holy Spirit make changes... I pretty sure I know where my heart needs to go to find out just what in the world is going on.

Sluggish Thoughts

I've probably complained about it being really hot in Philadelphia during the summer more times than I can actually count. So I'll refrain, and simply say that it's hot and it makes me want to do absolutely nothing. Humidity saps my energy and strength almost as quickly as Kryptonite saps Superman's.

Yesterday marked the three year anniversary of the day I married the love of my life, lost my virginity later that day (woohoo!), and started on the amazing journey of the rest of our lives. We're goofy and have fun with one another. We don't really do "romantic" outings, because not only is the iconic idea of romance expensive, it is also very awkward and not our style. I'd rather go eat the most amazing barbeque in the city than at a five-star restaurant that requires formal attire. Those places just feel rigid and unnatural to me. They kind of freak me out. Anyway. Three years later, it's still just the beginning, and there is much adventure and obstacles on the road ahead of us. Much has happened in three years, and so much more is to come. It is slightly frightening, but even more exciting.

Sometimes I reflect on my wedding day and think about all the "oh, I wish we did that," after attending the ceremonies of several friends. In retrospect, I feel like things could have been done differently. Really, I didn't know what the hell I was doing putting a wedding together more-or-less on my own. I did not put together an amazing party for my friends and family. But I have to stop that on-coming train wreck of thought, and realize that it doesn't matter. All the money, flowers, professional photographers, and hip, out-of-the-box ideas in the world could not replace the words and vows shared between my husband and I. That is all a lovestruck girl really wanted: an upstanding man to look me in the eye and pledge his unwavering love and commitment, and to do the same back.

I have a problem with comparing my life to other friends who are married, which always leads to a bad place. I look and see friends who already have a house, a dog (which is undeniably more responsibility than two cats), a kid (or two), and have an envious cloud come up before my eyes. I want a house with A/C, with a washer and dyer, and a dishwasher. I want a yard in which I can grow herbs and tomatoes and peppers. I want to start a family that is beyond my wonderful cats. I want a second car so I can go where I want, when I want. I suddenly become more and more dissatisfied with where I live, how I live, and the way I got married. Envy -- our more perhaps Biblically, covetousness -- is a nasty thing that rises up in you and makes you think that everything you have sucks, and that everything everyone else has is gloriously amazing. And then I start to think that oh, if only we had more money, it would fix everything, because I see money as the enemy and that is the only reason why I do not have the things that I want.

No. It would not. Money would not suddenly become my friend and fix everything that I perceive as being wrong in my life. It might help things out a little, but it would not fix anything. Namely, it would not fix my heart nor my attitude.

I am very blessed to be married to a man that loves me, who does not turn his gaze to pornography when he wants to escape, who does not hurt me or lord over me. I am very blessed to live in a nice apartment. I am very blessed, even, to have two kitties who make me laugh and satisfy my love of furry creatures. I may even be blessed to not have had children yet - which is harder to admit, but in many ways I know we are not ready to have a baby be it psychologically, or even financially. It is pretty awesome that I can get fresh fruit and veggies at all from Whole Foods or even better, from one of the many local outdoor markets in Philadelphia. What I need to learn is some patience, and with patience, praying that the Lord would make a way for these things to happen sometime, and that we would both focus on enjoying Him first, and being thankful for what we have now. Wanting some of those things isn't bad per se (like wanting a family), but throwing a mental tantrum over it is probably not the best thing to do.

Besides. It isn't the material things that make life satisfying. Anyone who follows the farcical lives of celebrities will know that they are some of the most unsatisfied, unhappy people in the world. I don't want that. I want to be satisfied in knowing that I have a God who loves me and cares for me, and will get me through all the hardships the world can throw at me through Christ. I'm still working on that, clearly, and I don't always understand what that means. But it is helpful to have a husband around who is trying to do the same thing, and that we can encourage one another in faith. And that is probably the biggest "material" blessing I can have, through thick and thin.

So here's to three years of marriage, and ten times as many to come.

Hey, here's one way you can help an artist...

Buy stuff; cheap! I've decided to go through some old artwork from college and put a bunch of it up in my Etsy shop in order to get it out of my apartment... I'm too much of a sentimentalist to throw some of this stuff out, since I'd put so much work into these things. There are a few current items, but they're mostly drafts of some kind that pass as pieces on their own.

I've marked down the prices from what I would have wanted to sell them for when I originally made them, since they've just been living a lonely life in storage. Art doesn't do anyone any good if it's not out in the open somewhere.

Anyway, I hope you or someone you know would like to purchase something! I am also considering taking some illustrations out of my sketchbooks from High School. But that's more for making a little extra cash.

Etsy yivviepants

Etsy Throw-together

I haven't posted in quite a while, since a lot has been going on but at the same time not much has been happening. Rather than post something of intellectual interest, I randomly decided that I was going to re-visit throwing together an outfit through the help of Etsy.... and by outfit, I really mean that I asked myself,

"Self, what kind of outfit or costume would you throw together utilizing Etsy?"

Well of course I would LOVE to put together a steampunk costume.

I'm not IN the steampunk scene so much as I admire it from afar and gobble up steampunk costumes and style. I love the idea of it, and if I could actually afford to go gallivanting around at a random convention as my own steampunk character I probably would. But to make it look right, you have to throw out quite a lot of cash. This particular outfit altogether would be nearly $1,500. There are much simpler ways to do it of course that aren't as extravagant. However, although I have a small love for looking at photos of home-made costumes for conventions -- Comicon and Otakon come to mind in particular -- I know that home-made can sometimes go horribly awry.

But, without further ado, here's the costume.

First of all, you have to have a nice coat as a basic piece of attire. It can get cold or rainy, and I for one don't want to be unprepared.

I struggle with finding shoes for myself NOW... but as for a costume, it's easy. It's even easier when I don't have to actually wear these.. Note, the etsy link is actually just for the "spat" - the accessory that is covering the shoes. Let's pretend the shoes come with it.

Every steampunk gal has to have a corset. It's like a rule or something.

Finding a blouse that would at all be appropriate for this kind of thing was difficult. Since it's steampunk, I went with something a little more modern, that would probably look better tucked in than to be out.




















Breeches with a bustle. For some reason, I think that's awesome. No worry of a skirt, but still feminine.

I think steampunk jewelry can be the most interesting costume jewelry out there, since it's got a little bit of mechanical raw-ness, and if done right, still looks elegant. And, you can throw in non-steampunk specific jewelry with it and it looks totally fine. It's a mishmash of two different worlds, afterall.

And just for fun... a Plague Mask. I would lean more towards goggles, but goggles seem to be overdone, and finding some that aren't cyberpunk on Etsy is more difficult than I anticipated. Plus, Plague Masks are just interesting to me. Not sure if it could actually be pulled off with this outfit, but I'd try.

Time to go to bed.