Friday, February 25, 2011

All Grown Up

I'm working on a painting in class. On a 3 ft canvas I'm putting on the first layers of oils. Right now I have big bright colored shapes. Its the basics, and if done right, the rest of the painting will have boldness and depth, perspective and beautiful intricacies. But for now it looks like its done by a child.

I'm such a baby. I've hardly had to say goodbye before but always the thought of those words saddens me to the point to tears. Ill be gone only a month. Yet I dread it. Being detached from the ones I love is the thing I'm scared of.  People roll their eyes and I keep sniffling.

I'm a child. I am a daddy's girl and my family takes care of almost all of my needs, especially connectedness and relationship.

I'm a woman. I have will and power and belonging; I live out my identity and personhood in accordance with my convictions. I have well formed goals that drive my life and a Love that drives my being.

Somedays these layers of my life run together in a transparency that takes on the depth that my painting will someday have. Today these layers are a mess.I might have to get my act together.

I'm going to wipe my tears, and end this post like every other big-girl blogger out there, with the final sip of my coffee and the closing of my computer and the list of to-dos this day has for me.

Monday, February 21, 2011

My First


          Time stands still. With a photograph or a journal entry, a moment is captured forever.  The glory of man fades away. But the time capsule will remain buried in our yard till the end of time. And the words typed here will orbit cyber space even longer.

         I want to hold on to the moments of life. I want to be a better communicator. I want to remain connected to you who are far. And I want to be like the ones I love, and most of you have a blog.

         I love reading your blogs, and it gives me the courage to have one of my own. You’re vulnerable, random, creative, and quirky. You’re funny and weird and deep.  Your grammar sucks, its immaculate, its whatever you want it to be. Ten times a day I wish I had one. Today I wanted to write about all these things.
I saw a robin in a tree. 

I got a bug hut. 

I got new dresses at Urban. 

I finished Les Mis.

I went for a walk.

I made some really good burned butter cookies. 

I sat with my sister for hours, reading old journals. 

I love the She and Him cd.

I went to a cooking class. 

And my heart soared. 

Here’s to my day.  To blogging. To birds, and songs and sisters.