{and spin it into reality (reverb - 11)}

December 11 – 11 Things What are 11 things your life doesn’t need in 2011? How will you go about eliminating them? How will getting rid of these 11 things change your life?

Can I take a pass on yesterday’s prompt? It isn’t because it’s too hard or I don’t want to answer it: simply, I don’t know how to.

The way I work #reverb10 is to read the prompt as it comes in the night before and think about it  all through the day. Not writing it in my head as I’m prone to (because then it’s out of my mind and yet not on the page), but dwelling on it. Living with it for a bit. And by the time I sit down here, I’ve got some idea of what direction I’ll be going in.

Yesterday’s threw me for a loop. Two days, and I’m still as directionless as before! So I’m keeping it on the back-burner, hoping another essay in the future will help me figure it out and complete it before month’s end.

I do, however, have a few ideas for this list.

1. Forgetfulness. Not entirely, as it’s pretty much unobtainable for someone who has bouts of Fibro Fog every week, sometimes every day. But in two distinct areas: writing things down and prescription management.

I’m sure having some sort of day-planner organizational system that I stick with would make my life much easier and keep me from making plans with two people on my father’s birthday (which happened yesterday). It would also help keep me on top of deadlines, milestones, and to-do lists. How do I know this? I had a pretty sweet system going back in February and March, but soon abandoned it. My life needs a certain degree of elasticity, and having a ridged daily structure and then not being able to keep to it make me feel pretty guilty. So I need to figure out a system that works for me.

And prescription management. Today, I went without a dose of medication that has my head pounding. I could avoid this by keeping on top of things. See paragraph above for how this could be done.

2. Judgements. I know we all like to think we’re not judgmental people, but the truth is - and you know this as well as I - that there’s a little voice we’re trying to squash deep inside of us. I don’t care about where it came from, or rational arguments to justify its existence. Instead, I want to move forward and try to be more in the moment, more grounded, more connected to the Divine to help keep me from rash judgements when my temper’s flaring.

3. Addiction. Someone close to me is battling this beast, and I don’t want to give the wrong idea - I defiantly don’t want them to be magically cured, nor do I want to cut this person out of my life. Rather, I need a healthier way to deal with this, and I already know that way - I just need to follow through more than once and awhile. My health is adversely affected by stress, and I need to move on or figure out a better way or something to help deal with this weight in my heart.

4. Doubt. While my faith doesn’t have scriptures to follow to help get me through those dark times, I do love the beauty and grace of the Psalms. I need to remember I’m not alone, and that big cliff that sometimes appears often has a set of wings on the edge for me to take and a net to catch me if I fall. I need to stop doubting myself, the world, and my intentions.

5. Pop. Or soda. Or soda pop. Or Coke, depending on your region/country. When I gave this up a few years ago, I lost a lot of water weight and felt a bit better. And while I’ve severely cut down my intake of high fructose corn syrup (from a normal American diet to maybe 5% of what it was), I’m still a worshiper of Diet Coke. And who isn’t? It tastes amazing, gives you a jolt, and is easy to grab when you don’t have any clean cups because you’re reenacting the little girl’s water glass obsession from Signs in your apartment. My cousin gave me a great recipe for iced tea that doesn’t require sugar or any substitutes or chemical synthetics, my friends drink tea, and I’m allergic to coffee. I think if I can kick the Diet Coke, I’ll be good. But I’m also afraid it’ll become like those tossed-out mops and dusters in Swiffer commercials, and stalk me while wearing googlie eyes.

6. Insomnia. Please? With a cherry on top? I really need to get to a sleep cycle my body and I can agree on that leaves me feeling more rested than this game of chicken we’ve been playing. I’ve fallen into a 1am-10am cycle and wish I could go to bed earlier and wake up earlier. I adored my nice 12am - 8am thing I had going for a lot of 2010, and hope to leave insomnia behind.

7. Shopping as Coping. Whenever I feel awful, I shop. Which is fine - for most people. When your spine feels like it’s trying to impale your brain and your hip’s decided it’s time to leave for Florida on a daily basis, this means a need to shop all the time. For stupid, silly stuff that I often toss when purging my drawers after I lose something important. I have some kind of addiction to going to stores and buying things - half the time, I wander around, wasting time, not buying a damn thing. My landscape becomes that of my favorite shops, and I wish, I wish I could go hiking or be painting or write during the time I’d regain by working through this problem.

8. Bags. If you’ve met me, you know. I have too many of these and while moving has weaned down my collection, I totally look at purses whenever I go out. Seriously. I need less baggage.

9. Assumptions. I am reminded of one of the Four Agreements: Don’t assume anything. This may require less tact in certain social situations, but I need to stop assuming things about peoples’ reactions to my actions. I often dream up the worst, over-examining things, driving myself insane. This mostly pertains to my mother, who isn’t as terrible as I’ve made her in my head, but there are friends in general I need to let be themselves instead of trying to predict the worst.

10. Inactivity. I’ve already started bike-riding more and more as I get more comfortable with my body, but I need to get out there every day, if only to walk. You know how all these great books on creativity talk about taking daily walks and their magical powers? I know that works - I’ve done it. But despite nodding my head and thinking, I can totally do that, too! while reading the books, I never actually do it. Something always comes up. Like a really interesting TV show or laundry. I need less inactivity and more activity in my life in 2011. Just sitting here to write this entry has my head feeling better than all those hours of “resting” while watching The Walking Dead.

11. Avoidance. Get it done, darling. Stop delaying those email replies, those projects you dream up, those bills and collections calls. Avoiding these issues won’t make them go away. Be gentle with yourself, realize you need to work on it, and get to it. Because no one else will do it for you.

Baby steps. Self-love. A day off. Joy. Spontaneity. That’s how you take a big list like this, that could easily overwhelm, and spin it into reality. As my mother says, “Don’t take life too seriously, you’ll never get out of it alive anyway.” Do your best, and let the past stay behind you as you walk on. 


I just wanted to take a moment to say thank you to all the wonderful tweets, re-tweets, comments, emails, and blogs thanking me or commenting on my essays. I never meant to do anything other than be true to myself and maybe a few long-time readers, and wow...just know each and every one is read and treasured and gives so much more than the time it takes to leave one.

{points of two: inside plastic}

Points of Two is an experiment in journaling with myself and Roben Marie! Check out our archives to see the previous weeks' pages.

We’re back! A personal matter kept us from updating last week, so we shifted that prompt to today. And what is the prompt, you ask?

Inside plastic.

Roben-Marie and I both used clear vinyl stitched onto journal pages for this one, but in very different ways. While she used it to contain fortunes from fortune cookies, I used it to cover my entire background.

Originally, I only sewed it long the side with the fabric, intent on allowing the plastic layer to be peeled away to reveal the original, but once I started working on it with Copics and saw the amazing effects I could get working on the vinyl with the alcohol-based markers, I decided to sew the plastic down permanently to make it part of the final piece.

I just love experimenting and finding out something new! If you use the colorless blender on the vinyl, it works as an eraser, or if you just put down the tip, it works like alcohol and clears a tiny space.

The messages in this piece are hidden under and above layers and are still very personal - I don’t think I’m ready to reveal what I’m thinking, which is what the page is about, anyway! - but maybe working with the ideas/feelings some more will help me build up the strength to “come out,” as it were.

On this page, I used acrylics, vinyl, Copic markers, fabric, and stitches:

And don't forget to visit Roben-Marie's blog for her story!

 

{a common desire for fun & laughter (#reverb10 - 9)}

December 9 – Party Prompt: Party. What social gathering rocked your socks off in 2010? Describe the people, music, food, drink, clothes, shenanigans.

I’m writing this essay a few hours early, and not while sitting at my desktop, because I’m helping a friend early tomorrow morning, and have to go to bed around the same time as I did when in high school. I’m a girl who loves her sleep, and am determined to get my nine hours!

Writing these essays have become emotional in the last few days, and I often start crying halfway through; I wipe my eyes and keep going. And posting them? It’s very scary! Your comments have continuously given me the strength to keep sharing my words, to accept them as a truth, and be proud of the discoveries I’ve unearthed.

A few weeks before my move, I was introduced, via Jun, to her friends, a married couple she’d met while in JET over in Japan. We met up for lunch at the Japanese supermarket/mall we all loved, and while walking through the bookstore, I found out J works from home as a children’s book illustrator yearning to define her style and branch out into projects of her own. We got along so well, when J and her husband N suggested we join them for a game night at their apartment.

“We have plans!” Jun moaned.

Which was true - we were set to meet up with our Japanese meetup group for dinner and karaoke - but wanted, very badly, to stay with J and N.

And being the spontaneous woman I am, I decided to lie to our meetup group so we could go to game night instead (and I really am sorry, if anyone from our group reads this!). I rarely, if ever, lie, and was all ready to tell them the truth - that I had lucked into a wonderful new friend and didn’t want our night to end! I wanted to go back to their apartment and see sketches and art and play games! Both J and N are highly creative, dynamic people, fun, easy-going, and fun!

Our night started with Korean tea and Tripoli, a game I’d never played before but loved! Even though I started losing, I didn’t care! The three layers of the game made it tons of fun, and the four of us drank our tea while laughing and joking around and playing!

And then, one friend called, and was invited up. And that friend brought someone. Our game grew by two. Then another friend called and joined us, until there was seven of us in their beautifully decorated apartment, talking about art (one of the newcomers was in an art class and carried sketchbooks, the other, an animator!) and computers (N works with them all day!) and other things. I was able to chat at a level I adore, where there’s substance and learning and truth.

So we ordered pizza and played cards and watched stand-up and then did a game that was a variation of charades … and I discovered I am horrible at charades!

That night is what I want with friends. Spontaneity, new friends, commonality, fun, friendship, acceptance. And I think that’s why I had so much fun, and what made the night so memorable for me: a meeting of the minds. A common desire for fun and laughter. We all simply clicked as soon as we met - with each new arrival, it felt like meeting a friend I hadn’t seen for a long time. I don’t know how it happened; maybe it was the energy I was putting out, this desire for a great night, for people I could relate to. Perhaps that had something to do with it. Or, maybe I simple had found the people I was meant to meet.

Yes, it’s unfortunate that I moved shortly after that night. But there’s always email and Facebook and Skype to stay connected. More than that, though, that night showed me where I want to be in my life, a destination I can work towards. I was accepted and brought into the fold where I thought that’d never happen again, not after what happened to me in college. It was a sign from the Divine that it’s time to bring new people in, to tear down those walls and build new friendships. There are people out there to trust, to laugh with, to enjoy life with, and there’s no time left to keep people at arm’s length.

{in a positive way (#reverb10 - 8)}

Get the Flash Player to see this video.

December 8 – Beautifully Different. Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up. Reflect on all the things that make you different – you’ll find they’re what make you beautiful.

I usually leave the bragging to my mother, but I’m going to take this opening to speak about myself in a positive way. Who knows? It may turn out well!

I am different because I can always find the silver lining. Years of living with a chronic illness has taken me down a long, dark tunnel, and it was such a battle to find that flicker of light at the other end, but I was looking for a way out, not a guide. My friends and family are the ones holding the candle, the ones holding my hand as I continue through life. I have found them and they have found me.

I am different because I never give up. I never let a lack of knowledge keep me from trying something, experimenting, or creating.

I am different because I push through my fears. While many are held back by a fear of change or a fear of failure, I see those as challenges to overcome. This doesn’t mean I’m not afraid. Only that I don’t want to live my life wishing, always wishing, never doing.

I am different because I am a genuine people person. I can strike up a conversation with just about anyone, and have made friends through conversations with strangers. I compliment people just for fun, for the smiles on their faces, the change in their day. I may have days when I say I hate people, but most of the time, I leave the house just so I can chat with people!

I am different because I am smart. This may be the first time I’ve admitted that out loud, but yes, I am. I took my SATs when I was 12, have a B.A. where no one else from my mom’s side of the family has completed college. I can do math in my head, love logic puzzles, and am a repository of random information.

I am different because I am differently-abled. I don’t like saying dis-abled, because there is so much I can do. I just have to approach it in a different way. I no longer let that hold me back, or keep me from doing the same things as everyone else. In fact, I sometimes think I do things better.

I am different because I think outside the box. I remember when I had to clean the shelving and displays while working at a Barnes & Noble Starbucks. Most people took the single Swiffer sheets and used them with their hands. This meant they had to take everything off the rack to get to all the hard-to-get areas. When it was my turn, I grabbed a long straw for venti drinks and a rubber-band and made my own Swiffer wand. And was able to do a great job in a fraction of the time.

I am different because I believe in everyone. I know we all have the capacity and ability to do whatever we want - even if we don’t believe it ourselves. My favorite times are when I can take a small idea or dream someone shares with me and help them mold it into something large, beautiful, and possible.

I am different because I see nothing wrong with dancing with my mother in a laundromat.

I am different because I just love television shows. I love writing fanfiction and reading comics and giggling with my best friend over ‘ships.

I am different because I’m easy-going. I don’t stress. I don’t sweat the small stuff. I’m never in a rush, and move at my own pace. I’m ready to drop everything for a friend in need, to take care of a family member, or go on an adventure.

I am different because I don’t have a regular job and make art and write all day. I get to live my days as I’d like, and what I love to do is inspire others to take bold leaps in their lives.

I am different because there is no one else on Earth like me, and never will be. And doesn’t that mean I have a responsibility to live as loudly, authentically, truthfully, and boldly as I can?

(I have cried at several points while writing this. I never knew how much truth was in me, just aching to get out.)

{a special magic that can never be sold (#reverb10 - 7)}

December 7 – Community. Where have you discovered community, online or otherwise, in 2010? What community would you like to join, create or more deeply connect with in 2011?

I really love this question, and I’m going to answer it backwards.

A couple of weeks ago, I had a dream. In it, I had rented a space in one of Tempe’s community centers - just a small one, for about twenty or thirty people or so, and, along with some friends, was decorating it for the night’s event. Sweets and hot tea were set on tables near the back of the room, colorful tablecloths were taped across utilitarian tables, and the chairs were set in a circle in the center of the room.

As women entered, they smiled and laughed and drank a bit of tea. They set their belongings - bags of wonderful, amazing art supplies - on the tables against the walls and pulled out fabulous pieces of art - from paintings to jewelry to large, colorful quilts - to set along the wall in the front of the room, just under a chalkboard that said:

Welcome. Please be you. And take a seat.

When everyone had arrived, I was sitting at the top of the circle with a basket in my lap. It was simple, but lined with a shimmering blue fabric that looked like flowing water whenever I shifted nervously. Inside were tiny organza pouches, the kind used for favors at a wedding, holding something I’d crafted by hand.

They were clay pendants with simple drawings carved into one side and words on the other. Mine was decorated with stars, and on the side close to my heart, said, “I am worthy.” Each was colored with paints and shined in sunlight. And silk ribbon acted as a chain. These were free gifts for each of the women.

The basket was passed around, and as each person said their name, they drew a necklace from the basket. Fate showed them what they most needed to hear. When everyone had said their name, we all stood, sisters now wearing simple words around our necks. These are magic, I thought, a special magic that can never be sold, only given.

When friends saw these pendants, they asked where the women had gotten them, and the women would bring them along the next time. We’d meet once a month, and after introductions, we’d pull the tables into the center of the room and create. Nothing structured, just laughter, creativity, strength, teaching, tea, and magic.

Last week, I bought a length of silk ribbon.

I knew I needed to create this space for artists to blossom and create. I knew there was a reason I had this dream, moved to this place, met people. Such a simple little dream to have, but one I feel I must bring into reality.

It is a community I want to create.

I’ve never told this dream to anyone, at least not in this much detail. There was a stirring deep inside me as the dream flowed and grew - soon, we had to move spaces to make room for everyone! Men began to attend, receiving bracelets instead of necklaces. We had art shows and classes and coffee dates under the stars.

For a woman like me, working as I do, community is everything. I was fortunate enough to stumble onto the Art Journaling Ning group, and from there, I met new friends, watched Ustream shows, and got into stamping! I attended CHA with a woman I’d only just met, her having moved to Chicago from Arizona (yes, we recognized the irony!).

And when I arrived out here, I already had a network of friends and acquaintances to visit, who helped me figure out where things are, who nurtured my waining, tired creative spirit, who felt like old friends when we’d only just “met” in person. Instead of feeling isolated, lost, and alone, this online community I’d grown to love and depend on so much was right there for me, helping me along the way.

What was truly magical was how quickly I met and befriended my neighbors at my new home. While I’ve lived in dorms and furnished apartments, I’ve never truly lived in a community such as this one, and after only two weeks here, I was outside in the evening, creating art, sipping margaritas, and chatting with so many people, we had trouble moving about my neighbor’s patio!

Since then, I’ve had doggie play dates, random trips to the art store, visits here and there, help, food, great listeners, and so much more. I’d missed that, living in the suburbs of Chicago, where no one really talks to each other. That true sense of community, that spirit of giving and openness I can’t wait to have in my life in the coming year. 

{start somewhere easy (reverb10 - 6)}

December 6 – Make. What was the last thing you made? What materials did you use? Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it?

How fortuitous that this is today’s prompt! And here I was, thinking I’d have to do two posts today or tomorrow so I could show my pretty new quilted pencil case!

I have to admit, I pushed against the tide of quilting for a long time. I thought it was all bland colors and squares or pinwheels or other boring things. While I’ve been sewing since I was about thirteen, eventually learning how to create my own patterns (read: made costumes for Anime conventions; yes, I am that nerd!), quilting felt like a hobby for moms and grandmothers, not me!

Yes, I’ve attempted it over the years. When I first started making pieces of mixed-media, I quilted together some cute fabrics I found to be the front of a messenger bag I made, and the experience wasn’t...easy.

Okay, everything came out kinda crooked. How was I to know there’s a trick to doing all this? And that it’s actually simpler than I was making it?

So, I left quilting for others and went on making the art I liked making. And then, when I finally figured out how to freestyle stitch with my sewing machine (which is so easy, guys - get a darning foot, drop those feed dogs, and start doodling!), I decided I wanted to maybe do a little more with the awesome fabric I was compelled to buy.

I expressed this to the new shop owner of my favorite local quilting store, and she laughed. Not in a bad way - in a, “Oh, sweetie, how wrong you are!” kind of way. I can’t remember the name of the book she pulled from a shelf for me to page through, but I have to admit - it completely changed the way I look at quilting.

I can make up patterns? Ignore the rules? Make them small? Who knew!

(Everyone else, apparently!)

I immediately came home and started incorporating my art into art quilts, using the fabric as a frame for the pieces I’d started creating on loose canvas.

And then, at the library a few weeks ago, I picked up a book on cute projects to be done with smaller squares.

Yesterday, I thought, “Hey, why not try something?”

Start small, I told myself. Start somewhere easy. I began piecing together a Log Cabin square by cutting fabric into strips of varying widths. I then started going around in a square, side by side, adding in bits of salvage here and there, until I had a rectangle!

And then, I stitched all over it. Just wild doodles and those lines going all over the place I’ve admired on so many pieces I’ve seen in the art community online. Got my bobbin all gucked up because, while I didn’t add any bias tape around the edges, I forgot to put some muslin on the other side of the thin batting I was using. Changed thread colors halfway through for the bobbin. Broke all those rules I thought I had to follow.

But when I held that finished pencil case in my hand, I was amazed. Did I really make this? Had I figured things out, sewn, ironed, and fought with thread to come out the other side with something I actually liked?

Short answer: Yes.

I’m a pretty lucky woman. I get to fill my days with art and creativity, crafting ideas in my head into a tangible reality. And I love it. In fact, I love it so much, I often feel guilty when I’m still in my pajamas on a Tuesday afternoon when most people are at work. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. The issue, then, of finding time to make something in the future isn’t really a problem.

I would, however, like to be able to stretch my own canvas. Yes. While I’m pretty good at picking things up easily, that is one area where I’ve always dreamed but never done. Mostly because I’m afraid of it.

Then again, quilting was pretty scary up until about this morning, so who knows what the future really holds!

PS. I'm going to work on answering comments tomorrow morning instead of tonight, as my pup is giving me a death glare and keeps sighing...yeah, he wants to go to bed!

{some other girl's life (#reverb10 - 5)}

December 5 – Let Go. What (or whom) did you let go of this year? Why?

I’m sitting here at my desk in the corner on the laptop I’ve turned into a desktop, music from my iPod playing from a set of speakers speckled with paint and far too old to charge the thing anymore. The lamp near my desk has no shade. Behind me, my dog, a runt of a Jack Russel Terrier, Drake, is watching me intently - I think he wants to go to bed. To my left is the extra deep closet that marked this as my bedroom, where I’ve set up a long table that I fully intended to keep neat and organized, but is now covered with paints, inks, fabric, brushes, a sewing machine, scraps, and my visual journal.

To my right, the sliding door that leads to a patio. If I wanted, I could wrap myself in a sweater and go outside.

I haven’t lived in this apartment two months yet. I haven’t lived in this state two months.

Of all the prompts to get this year, and I get one about letting go.

Sometimes, the idea that I picked up and started driving west at the beginning of October, that I pulled a trailer, pushed myself physically, brought along two dogs, and found an apartment in 3 days after arriving in the desert still feels like a dream. As though I’m living some other girl’s life. I recently read through some journals from the summer of 2009, when the idea of moving to Arizona was first taken from the realm of ‘someday’ and put in the ‘to do’ column, and this summer, I felt the aches and pains of a dream so close yet so far away.

And yet. Yet. Everything happened so fast. From reserving a trailer to installing a hitch on the car ourselves. Even the drive passed in the blink of an eye, and we took it nice and slow over five days!

What could be greater than letting go of the city you were born in, the city you loved? Of the house you lived in ever since middle school? The friends you’ve known for ages? Everything and everyone you’d ever learned or met or laid eyes on -

- all left as nothing more than decaying memories?

I let go of a few other things this year, though none as dramatic as the 1,800 mile move.

1. Or should this be 2? I let go of the notion of a traditional job. While this wasn’t exactly chosen for me, I could have freaked out, panicked, and gotten another part-time gig to pay the bills. Instead, I decided I was going to make it work and gave myself over to the idea of intangibility existing as a barrier between what was and what could be.

2. I let go of a friendship I really wanted to work for all the wrong reasons. Two of these, actually, even though one had been over for awhile. I had to accept that sometimes, friendships can harm, and that my over-thinking about every email I never heard a reply to or off-hand comment and what it meant about me wasn’t doing anyone any good. While I cherish the times we had, it was time to let it go and allow those people to re-enter my life when it was best for both of us.

3. I let go of reservations. I have always felt like a child, the one looked down upon, the unworthy one, and I’ve had enough of that. My friends have had enough of that. This only happened quite recently, but it counts, right? I’m just going to step into my power, and if I’m not feeling it, well, what do they say? Fake it ‘till you make it.

There is something to be said about not letting go when everyone else says you should. But I’m glad, in this instance, that I didn’t. Sure, I may complain about it at times, and vent, and wonder why the hell not, but in the end, there are shining moments that make it worth it.

And I’m writing that down just for self-reference the next time I slap myself on the forehead and wonder why I’m still putting up with it all. Sometimes, holding on can be just as hard as letting go, and just as beneficial.

{yet high in the clouds (#reverb10 - 4)}

December 4 – Wonder. How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year? 

When I lost my job, I threw myself into my art. While I’d come to art in an enchanted kind of way, learning from memories of my mother and I painting on the kitchen table when I was seven or eight, I approached it in mostly the same manner I do anything - a perfectionist’s eye. This isn’t a reiteration of day two’s theme, that I get in my own way, but rather a statement of fact. Art came to me when I was still in college, stayed with me along the string of jobs I took after graduation, held my hand as I decided to leave corporate life for various part time jobs centered around things I loved - creativity, books, conversation.

Being self-taught meant I followed along the edge of the rules, learning most of them from others. I copied what I loved, I read books, watched videos, kept a narrow view of what could be done based on what had already been attempted by others more learned or experienced than me.

I had begun to open up to the wonder and splendor of the world during college, when, walking down the wide sidewalks of downtown Chicago to classes, I had to slow down. There was no choice - my bursitis had gotten worse, sending tendrils of pain through the joint and down my leg, sometimes so bad, I’d walk with a limp. My knees ached. While others my age could walk fast and run bits and had boundless energy, I took naps during the day, moved slower, left classes early because I couldn’t stand to sit at a desk for longer than an hour.

Sure, I was playful and fun and laughed, but there was always this undertow of despair and sadness lurking under the surface. I struggled - hell, I still struggle! But I had yet to really go into myself and figure things out.

And then, I was drifting. Aimless. So I created and read and relaxed. Allowed, even praised the slower pace in my life. I no longer had days spent in bed, crying because I couldn’t move. I no longer felt my life consisted of work and rest as it often had before. And while things were hard and prescriptions expensive, I let myself grow some roots and be.

I began meditating again. Reconnecting with the Divine. Admitting I’m not in the driver’s seat on this crazy ride. I was loose yet connected. Grounded yet high in the clouds.

And I stopped reading those tutorial books and looking at the art of others and everything else I’d been using as a guide for my creativity. I started to experiment. To keep a log-book of what I discovered. I learned that there is no end to the imagination. Or the heart.

I reconnected with friends. Laughed and shared meals and amazed myself with the things I thought up. No longer limited by what had come before, I spread my wings and tried new things. Not just artistically, but socially. And with foods! And experiences!

I kept my chin up and noticed the clouds in the sky. The shadows buildings cast. I’m reminded on something I read about how the autistic mind works - non-autistics see what they’re used to, what has a mold in their head. Autistics see what is. They see those ships on the horizon because they don’t have filters like others do. And this year, I decided I wanted to see those ships. I wanted to see something and wonder how it could be different. How it could exist. Where else it could go. What else it could do.

And as I drove across the world, through thick forests beginning to shift and change, across great plains with windmills in the distances, to a land vastly different than I was used to, I was overcome with the wonder of the world I live in.

Call me silly, but I don’t want to change a thing.