One Week

You read that right. I have one week left.

I am freaking out just a little.

I just found out that my mission president and his wife have a blog... there goes any train of thought that I may have just had.

Back again.

Sort of.

I gave a talk today in Church, but not actually in the ward I go to. I gave it in my home ward. I'm actually pretty satisfied with the way it turned out. I got some pretty cool (and some pretty weird) compliments after the meeting was over. My favorite was from a man I've known most of my life, "I've heard farewell talks for the past 32 years, and yours is probably the best I've ever heard." That one seriously made my day. Another, from a woman I've also known most of my life, "You looked so pretty up there with your hair down." I smiled and told her that it gets hot, so I put my hair up after I was done talking. "I wasn't saying that you don't look pretty now, you just look prettier with your hair down." Thanks?

Anyway. Life has been crazy lately. Getting ready to fly out and teach people the gospel. I cannot express enough how incredibly excited I am to go, but this is one of those quiet moments where I start to think that I won't be ready in time. It's ridiculous, I know. I also that no matter how much I prepare, I will never be fully prepared.

8 days left. Let's do this.

Short and Simple

It's short and simple.
The way I feel about you.
I love you. I love you.
I do.

Less Than 20 days.

Hey... Hey... HEY!

I leave in 19 days.

Which is crazy.

I'm nowhere near ready. Mentally or even physically. There is so much that I feel that I have to do. I think I'm going to go crazy. I wish I had a little more time, but I also wish I could just leave now. I want to go. I'm excited to finally be leaving.

I was given an extremely short amount of time to prepare after getting my call. Most people have a couple months. I had 6 1/2 weeks. Luckily, I have spent a lot of time with the missionaries around me, so I've been able to prepare a little before even getting my call.

I can't believe this is happening. I feel like pretty soon I'm going to get this letter or phone call telling me that this is all one really sick joke. If that were the case, I would probably just get up and MOVE to New Hampshire, anyway.

My phone service will be cut off on the 8th, so don't try to reach me by my cell phone after that. I will be available on Facebook until the 17th or 18th.

My mind is going everywhere.

I'm excited. I'm excited as all get out. A little nervous. A lot excited.

I'm looking forward to what will happen in the next 18 months. I will probably have someone post the happenings and adventures of New Hampshire on here for me, so if you want to keep up with the adventure, you can.

Sneakers for Suitcases

So, I started out this blog when I bought a pair of orange high top Converses as I started my adventures down in Orlando. I know I've never really mentioned these shoes, but I just want to say that I still have them and I still wear them pretty often.

Today, I bought luggage for the mission. Guess what color they were. That's right. Orange. I'm trading in my orange sneakers for orange luggage. These suitcases basically are the marking of the beginning of another something new.

I'm going to have a family member or a friend post weekly or every other week onto here, so everyone who wants to will be able to read the adventures of the girl with the orange suitcases.

I Think I'm Synching

I'm waiting for my iPod to sync with my computer and am looking for just about any excuse not to pack, so I think I'll write a little blog about what is going on in my life/mind lately.

First. I got my mission call! I have been called to serve a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in the New Hampshire Manchester area. I am incredibly excited.
For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Church, I'll explain a little. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is often referred to as the Mormon Church. Its members, often called Mormons. We are Christians, and many of us younger adults are given the opportunity to serve a mission to teach the Gospel to all those who are willing to listen. We do this because our religion is something we hold very dear to our hearts. It makes us happy, and we want others to be happy as well. Now, I am not saying that those who are not members of the church are unhappy. It's similar to finding a really good ice-cream flavor and wanting to share it with everyone, even though not everyone likes ice-cream. I get that.
I'm incredibly excited to be going to New Hampshire. I have always wanted to go to New England and cannot imagine a better reason to go. I am very aware of how cold it will be, but I'm willing to brave it, even though I tend to break out in hives when I get cold. That's how important this is to me. Now, I know all of you who have lived in cold climates are going to want to suggest what to do in order to stay warm. Please try to refrain from saying something like "get a good jacket," or anything about leggings, tights, long johns or thick socks or anything that I may have heard many times by now. If you have a good reference to an online store or actual store in Tallahassee or brand, I'm all ears.

Second. I'm flying out to L.A. tomorrow. One of my sisters is moving back to Florida, so I'm going to fly out there and drive back with her. I'm super excited. I love road trips. I just love traveling.

Third. My iPod is done synchronizing, so I'm going to go pack and then get some sleep.

I love you all, you're fantastic.

Mo(u)rning

The morning started with a grave.

My mom knocked on the door as I was slowly waking up.

She was there to tell me that she was taking the dog we've had for the past twelve years to the vet to be put down. 

This morning was Becky's last.

My mom asked me if I wanted to say good-bye to her, but I said no. I had said good-bye to her long ago.

Then she asked me if I could dig the grave. 

I didn't have the heart to refuse.

This dog has been a quiet, but large part of my family.

She was the one who would calmly and quietly sit next to my youngest brother, who often needed company. 

 She was his little buddy.

We will never forget her presence.

My mom didn't want to say good-bye. 

Not to Becky. 

There was thick fog that morning.

The weather had finally decided to cool down.

The smell of freshly broken dirt hung in the air.

The body, wrapped in a towel was placed in the hole. 

I couldn't believe it was her. 

We planted a red flower bush over her. 

A bush to protect her body from being dug up by unsuspecting people or animals.

It was a beautiful plant. 

The red flower bush that I don't know the name of.

Red flowers will always be given to that loyal, loving dog.

A Question I've Never Asked

So, I know the title will seem like there's some deep question that I've always wanted to ask someone, but never have had the chance to. Not quite. The question I have is much more simple.

Can I draw you?

Now, let me first explain that if you ever catch me looking at you, squinting a little, I want you to know that I'm trying to draw you in my head. Or store the shape of your eyes into my memory bank for later use. I know it sounds a little creepy, but I'm an artist. It's how I roll.

Next. The reason I haven't asked the question. I don't know how to say it without coming across as interested in someone or insulting. I can't say it's a compliment, because that's not always the case. Sometimes the people I want to draw are just... interesting. Not ugly, but not drop dead gorgeous, either.

I sound really critical right now. I know. Let me just clarify that I do not judge people on their looks. I just find the composition of the human face fascinating and irresistible.

To the Friend Who Knew Just Enough

To the Friend Who Knew Just Enough

It’s like you knew.
Everything I had ever fought. 
You knew what wounds I carried without having seen the battle.
One look in my eyes and you knew the horrors of the same war.
There were no grand tales of victory or loss.
For the war was within myself.
It’s like you knew.
Every time I almost gave up.
There you were with a shoulder to lean on.
You cheered me on when even I had lost hope.
You patched me up and led the way.
You were never disappointed in me.

Sunrises in My Life

So this morning I watched the sun rise with a friend from church. It was amazing. The weather was perfect, the colors were brilliant and the conversation was comfortable. Oh and we saw a bald eagle. How cool is that?

Sunrise at Lake Jackson

All day I've been thinking about sunrises and their subtleties and how many of them I've had in my life with out really realizing it. They're tricky like that, you know?

I've been slowly accomplishing goals and I recently realized how much progress I've made. I've actually gotten to the point where I'm a little scared to finish, because I don't know what'll happen next. 

Also, about a year ago, I promised a friend I would grow my hair out. It was super short then. I was often times mistaken for a man while standing in line. Now, my hair brushes my shoulders at the shortest point and is definitely not the hair of a man. It took a year of not getting a hair cut to get it this long, and even though I'm not really sure how long I want to keep it this way, I am impressed at the progress.

From this:

To this:

All it took was a year!

So many other things have gradually made a huge impact on my life. Like my social life. I slowly made friends that I was comfortable enough with that I would talk to/hang out with them on a regular basis. Thanks to a few of them I can now hug people without completely freaking out on the inside. (This may be something I credit to two relentless huggers, Kent and Steff) Don't get me wrong, they're not my favorite thing in the world, but I've slowly come to appreciate and accept them. 

Proof: 

Yes, that's my sister. You get the idea.

Then there are the things that I can't really show you through photographs. My views on subjects of the world have broadened, my opinions have found ways of wording themselves, but my heart has grown more open to those of different faiths, beliefs, political views, backgrounds, opinions, et c.

I can say that my world has gotten brighter, clearer and more defined, but the sun isn't fully risen, yet. I have a lot more exploring and discovering to do.

I'm incredibly excited.

Thoughts of the Day

So, the last time that I wrote a post I deleted it about 20 minutes after clicking the publish button, because the last post was terrible. I was not in the mood to write anything more than complaints that belong to someone most of a decade younger than myself. I don't think anyone got the chance to read it, but if you did, I apologize.

What have I been up to lately? Well. I've started teaching myself Japanese. I've also bought myself some music in German and have been brushing up with that and some magazines and articles in German. It's been a lot of fun. I forget how much I love that beginning phase where I know only a handful of words and get so excited about improving that it's pretty much all I think about. This happened with Latin and German, and is happening now with Japanese.

I try to explain to others my love of both of these languages, but rarely do people understand. For example, most people find German to be a harsh language or that no matter what is being said, it sounds like the speaker is trying to prove a point. I disagree. German flows like no other language. It has a rhythm that just draws me in. Its similarities to English make it a little easier to learn that other languages and pronounces the guttural phonemes (i.e. the "ch" in "doch") really isn't that hard. My fascination of Japanese is mostly due my admiration and love of the culture and art that comes with it. I could talk about the reasons I love Japan, its people and its language (even though I've never been there) all day if you let me and even if you try to stop me, I'll try to keep going on. It's true. Try me.

... I do the same thing with art and art history. Just don't catch me in a talkative mood and you'll be safe. Probably.

Life. Stress. Sleep.

It's almost midnight and I feel like I should've been asleep an hour ago. Why am I not asleep? Because I'm still in denial that I have gotten used to going to bed before midnight.

So. Life.

One of my best friends came to visit me for a couple of days this week and it was great. I've really missed her. A lot of the people reading this know who she is, but I'm going to keep it in third person for the fun of it. Anyway.

I feel like I've forgotten how to socialize a little. Like I've spent so much time as a hermit lately that I don't know what it's like to have friends outside of Orlando. So, if you think I'm a little awkward, you should know that I'm well aware of it.

It's probably actually because I'm stressed, so I'm thinking a mile a second (because a minute really isn't that fast) and not always about what's going on around me at the time. I may be getting more gray hairs as this goes on... Ah, well. Such is life.

You may be wondering what I'm stressing about, but I'm not going to tell you. I really wish I could, but most of it is incredibly personal and I don't want the world to know what is going on. No, you don't need to be worried. Yes, I'll be okay. No, it's probably not what you're thinking it is unless I've talked about it with you directly. Which is highly unlikely. Let me keep my personal things to myself. 'Kay? 'Kay.

... That last bit seemed a bit mean... Sorry. I appreciate any and all concern, but I don't want to have to deal with answering people's questions right now. I am an introverted person. I like my privacy. I retreat to myself in order to recoup or solve my problems. I hope you can respect that.

So, now that that's done I'm just going to write whatever I want.

I've been thinking about transferring to FSU. Yes, because it's close to home. I have a long time to decide whether or not that's the right choice, but it will eventually be made. I loved living in Orlando and I miss the few people I've come to love down there, but I don't know how I feel about returning. I probably feel that way because I haven't finished what I moved back to Tallahassee to finish, yet. So if I were to go back to Orlando now, I would feel like a failure. The situation will change and my thoughts and feelings probably will as well.

My back just popped. It was glorious.

I'm tired. I'm going to give up writing now and crawl into bed.

Nighty-night.

Mostly Complaints

So you know that job that I thought I got? Turns out I didn't. Apparently I have some traffic violation that didn't clear up even though I know I took care of every ticket I've ever received. So now I have to get that cleared up before I can get a job. Awesome. Not bitter. At all.

So, in my free time I get to practice archery. Yep. And get some appointments out of the way, which is actually really good news and I am incredibly happy about that.

But yeah. Back to job hunting... Well. Sort of. I have to get this cleared up before I can even get a different job.

I wish I had more exciting things to talk about, but I don't. Sorry. Just needed to complain a little.

So here's another fantastic song I've recently found:

Another Misleading Title

Alright. Time for a little more brain/heart vomit.

I got a job. I'm now a school photographer and get to travel to a bunch of schools and take pictures of little kids. Well, not so little kids, too. I'm pretty excited. Okay. Maybe really excited. I get to take pictures, which is fantastic. I love being behind the camera and I'm kind of in love with the idea of working without having to worry about school.

I've decided that I'm going to take advantage of the time that I'm going to be spending driving to and from work and learn Japanese. It's going to be great.

I was on YouTube one day and found this German band (they sing in English, don't worry) and I love their music. Check it out:

Yeah. I think they're fantastic. It's okay if you disagree.

On to other topics.

I've been think a lot about friendships lately. Especially about how bad I am at forming them. Sometimes I'll want to be friends with someone that I already kind of know, but not very well and I'll have no idea how to talk to them. I'm really just an awkward person sometimes. I've gotten better, though. A little. So, if you're one of those people that I've maybe started talking to a little more, I want to be your friend. I'm not being weird (on purpose). Promise. So be my friend?

I miss biking. I think I'm going to start up again this week. Yeah. That sounds like a good idea.


I also miss my short hair. A lot. I sometimes go through old photos and think, "Man, my hair looked so much better short. Why did I ever grow it out?" But I did grow it out and growing it out took forever, so I'm not sure if I'm going to cut it anytime soon. Opinions are welcome.

I think I've run out of things that I'm willing to share to the general public.

Cool.

You Know That

Knock-knock.

Hello? Are you there?

Knock-knock.

Hello?

Ring-ring.

Hello? Are you there?

Ring-ring.

Hello?

Listen I know you don’t want to talk to me right now, but I need someone to talk to and I don’t know who else I could talk to. You don’t even have to listen, just let me talk to your door.

Don’t turn me away just yet. Please.

I’m sorry. For everything. You were right and I didn’t listen I thought I would be okay. I thought I knew better.

But I didn’t.

I never do.

I’m confused. I don’t know what I’m feeling. I just know I don’t like it. What do I do?

Knock-knock.

Hello? Are you there?

Knock-knock.

Hello?

Listen. I was wrong when I said I didn’t want you to listen. But you probably knew that, didn’t you?

I need you, but you know that.

You don’t need me, do you?

I love you. You know that.

I want to feel loved again. You know that.

Ring-ring.

Hello? Are you there?

Ring-ring.

Hey, it’s me, but you know that.

One Week

I've been back home for a whole week today.

I feel like it was so much longer ago. I miss Orlando so much. I especially miss my friends. They're terrific. I have had some pretty awesome times up here, though. With people that I've known for a while and people I've just met. I can feel their love and warmth and it just makes my soul smile. I love being around these people.

It's always interesting when you move somewhere and people don't know everything about you anymore. It's no longer common knowledge that I play the ukulele. Not only do I play it, but I even made mine. This is the time that most people don't know even the simplest things about me. It's a little refreshing, but sometimes I want that good friend that knows not just what I like, but even what I'm thinking at times. Those moments when I'll be painting and just talking and she'd let me talk or choose to think to myself and I'd do the same for her.

I'm always surprised when people are happy to see me. Or when they want me to sit next to them. Especially when it's a person I don't know very well. I always wonder what they know about me or why they would want someone like me to be with them. I'm incredibly grateful for it, though. No matter how often it surprises me.

I wish I could express how much I love people. Especially good people. So. If you're human, I want you to know that I love you. And if you're the Doctor - I think you're pretty great, too. Simple as that.

Everything hasn't been perfect here, true. My sculpture broke, I lost a check and an incredibly important letter that one of my friends wrote me, I spent 2 1/2 hours at the doctor's office only to find out that I need to go back, I was ignored by my parents most of the time, and there are so many more bugs than usual that I'm about to go completely mad. But that's part of life. I'll move on.

I met this Japanese girl today that couldn't speak very much English. I want to learn Japanese so intensely right now. I've never been so ashamed of how helpless I was with the language. I've loved the  Japanese culture and language for so long, you would think I would've found some way of taking a class or something, right?

Anyway. To do list: Learn Japanese.

Brain Vomit at Two in the Morning

Lying on my couch, knees against my chest.

Paper strewn across, inspiration gone.

The clock is ticking, each second so fast.

Thoughts are passing as loneliness past.

The pain in my back doubles as I move.

I give in to temptations as I dream, what could I lose?

Loving one I only can in my sleep. I turn to it oft and dream in my wake.

“This is wrong,” I tell myself, but head is stubborn and knows not how to listen.

“Go back to sleep,” it says coercively. “You’re happy there.”

I fight the yawns and heavy eyelids. “But I can be happy awake. Give it a chance.”

“We tried that, remember? Neither of us were okay after that.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“And the world has only gotten worse.”

“Oh, my dear friend. Is that what you think?”

“You thought it too, once.”

“I once lived with my eyes closed, yes, but I can no longer afford to blindly stumble.”

“You are implying that I am blind, but my eyes have never been more open.”

“Your eyes are only focused on the pain of the past.”

“And you are naively looking to a happy future! How could you forget? How could you put yourself in a position where we will both be trampled, abused, beaten and spat upon? Did you forget? Did you forget what he did? I didn’t! I remember him. I remember his name, his face, his malice. There are others just like him. I am protecting you from them.”

Tears rolled down my cheeks as my heart gave way.

“I haven’t forgotten. I’ve only forgiven.” I breathed deeper as I realized it was true. It was finally true. “We both have been trapped in the pain of a battered eight year old. He is long gone from us now. Let him stay that way and move on. We cannot punish the rest of mankind for the crimes of one.”

“We will get hurt.”

“Yes, yes we will.”

“Why are you okay with that?”

“Because I know that pain is not permanent.”

“How do you know that?”

“Have we ever had a cut that would not heal if allowed to? If my body can heal, so can my heart.”

“Are you certain?”

“No, but there is only one way to find out the truth.” I whispered as my body gave in to its weariness, but my heart and mind were determined: I will trust in love again.

Even though it will hurt.

Why I Hate Video News

In preparation for leaving Orlando, I've started the dreadful and ridiculous task that is packing. So, in order to make the job a little more manageable, I opened Pandora. Now I'm taking a break (you know, clearly not packing) and I'll go to a website with news and find a headline that is interesting and click on it.

But guess what.

It's a video clip.

I don't want to watch a video to find out my news! Let me read it so I can just get the information I want and I don't have to stop listening to Pandora.

I know.

First world problems.

... And back to packing I go.

Dear Orlando,

I have less than a month left in Orlando. It's so weird. I'm dreading tomorrow when I'm going to have to go and get packing boxes, so I can pack in the little spare time I have after school and church.

I'm dreading all the good-byes I'm going to have to say and the tears that will inevitably come.

I remember right before I moved down here. One of my friends practically accused me of "running away" I'm still not sure what from. I wasn't running away from anything. Orlando was where I needed to be these past two years. That fact is undeniable. I have learned so much more out here than I could have ever learned back home. Two years ago I didn't know what I was going to learn or do, but I knew that was wasn't going to happen in Tallahassee.

So, let me tell you some of the things I learned.

I learned who Arletta is.
I have quirks, I have desires, I have strengths, I have weaknesses. I never really understood what these were until I had to face myself by myself.

I learned how to be a better friend.
I'm young and inexperienced in this field. I honestly can say that I never grasped what a friend was until I was 18. Then, a year later, I was able to use those examples around me and build up friendships that I want to last forever. I do have Tallahassee to thank for providing me the opportunity to meet those few friends who accepted and befriended me, but here I did that for others.

I learned that there are some people who want to hurt you.
Yep. I've been hurt. Mostly by people I was close to. One of my friends just stopped talking to me. I to this day do not know what I did for him to decide that I deserved such treatment. He was even hostile towards my friends. It was (maybe IS) one of the most confusing moments of my life.

I have learned that there are some people outside of family that will love me unconditionally.
You people are what make the hard times worth it. You know who you are.

I have learned that I am a coward.
I am terrified of getting hurt - not physically, but emotionally. I don't want people to expect great things of me because I'm afraid of letting them down. I'm scared to admit that I love someone to myself or to others. I let my fears stop me from doing things a better person would do. I am not that person.

I learned that I had grudges that I needed to let go.
This is actually something that I've learned in only the last year. I was hurt. I was for a long time. So long that I no longer realized that I was holding on to the pain and just started working around it. It was like having my right arm broken, so instead of getting it fixed, I just learned to do everything with my left, even the things that required two hands. By time I realized that I needed to let this pain go the broken parts had already healed incorrectly and needed to be broken again and then set straight. That hurt, too. I was emotionally raw for quite some time. I'm still healing, actually.

I have learned what my relationship with God is.
I know that some of you don't even believe that he exists. I'm okay with that. Just let me believe what I believe. There is no point in attacking another's beliefs or lack of unless they are actually causing harm to others. Attacking your neighbor will get you nowhere and will only leave your neighbor hurt. They will start to trust you less and unless you're really lucky or they're really smart, they might even seek revenge.

I know I have learned many more things, but I think that is all I want to explain for the night.

It Had Potential...

There are many times that I wish I could just stop thinking. But I can't. I don't know how people meditate, but the only way I can stop thinking about one thing is by focusing on another. I don't understand the idea of clearing one's head. All I can really grasp is tackling one problem at a time. I doubt I'm the only one.

I guess I could just say everything that I've been thinking about lately, but a lot of that is personal and I'm not really ready to tell the world right now, if ever. And there's too much of everything else that I probably won't have the will to write it all.

So. What have I been up to lately?

Well. I'm back in Orlando. That's good news. I started this class called processes and ideas of art. Basically I'm getting a grade for making a WWI plane model for the first project. It's awesome.

I'm also teaching myself Japanese. Again. I'm rather ashamed of how much I forgot, but this time I don't want to forget any of the German that I've learned, so I'm going to have to start reading and listening to things in German. I might not be coherent in English after this summer. When I learn a language it's not like I'm learning a new language, it's more like I'm adding new words and phrases to what I already know. I just have to remember that not everyone knows what those words mean. What has become common knowledge to me is known by few others around me. I should probably learn Spanish. That way I could use it more often...

Just for the record, I have no interest in learning Italian.

I really hope someone got that...

Anyway.

I was going to keep writing, but I think I'm going to go read some scriptures in German and go to bed. Yeah. Sounds good.

Creative Rut

Uh... Hi.

I have a problem.

I don't know what to write.

Or do.

For ANYTHING. Not for this blog, not for drawing, not for writing.

I'm in a rut.

Normally I get out of these ruts by playing video games, but that hasn't worked these past two weeks. I took a walk in an awesome rainstorm and that helped a little, but not very much.

I think it's because I'm not in Orlando. I'm not comfortable. I don't have anyone here that I can talk with that will encourage creativity. Actually, I don't have anyone that will actually listen, so that's annoying. I could just come up with ideas on my own, but they really come to life when I have someone to tell them to, first.

For example, I have this idea of doing a bunch of drawings of people in the rain. And just typing that out makes me want to start drawing. I get these visions in my head. They already look like my style, too. They look like something that's just waiting to be drawn. I can see the faces, the water, the hair. It's beautiful. But if I don't have anyone to discuss the plan with, I get a little... unmotivated. It's weird. Just like I'd rather finish my homework with someone next to me rather than all by myself.

Anyway. Yeah. I have few ideas right now. It's frustrating. It doesn't help that I also have very little motivation.

I want to start writing and illustrating my own stories. I'm not talking about comic style, but that earlier post with the picture and the writing? Yeah. That's what I want to do. Maybe longer than just a page each, though...

I don't have any ideas for stories, though. Not new ones, at least. I suppose I could just work on old ones, huh. I might just do that until I come up with something new.

And now I've got a start. Cool.

Home and Crying

So, I'm in Tallahassee. Just for a week, then I'll be back in Orlando.

I'll admit that being home is really hard for me. Especially when I am treated like the family therapist and my Mom or a sibling comes to me and just complains to me. It would be okay if we talked about other things, too, but all I hear are negative comments about one person or circumstance. I try to change the focus of the conversation, so we can feel better and not dwell on things of the past that can no longer be changed. I always end up just getting hurt, feeling like people can feel like they can just talk to me as if I were a wall. As if I didn't want to say anything, as if I didn't want to hear any good news. My feelings become ignored.

Coming to Tallahassee this weekend was a bigger sacrifice for me than some might think. I like Orlando, and I'm not really ready to face the reality of having to move back to Tally in July. I don't feel welcome here, but I know my family needs me here.

Another small problem is that I don't really feel at home in Orlando anymore. I'm so bad at making and keeping new friends. I'm satisfied with a small group and before I know it, they've either moved away or moved on to (apparently) better friends. People overwhelm me. New people even more so. A lot of new people and I fidget so much and just end up making a fool of myself.

Someone once told me that she's never seen me cry. That's because she's never seen me alone. I pretend to be strong when surrounded by people, but when I'm with only one person, tentatively talking about the hurts and struggles that I'm facing; that's when I cry. And let me tell you, when I cry, I bawl. Right now? As I'm writing this post? Bawling. Like a little child. It's pathetic. I've lived my whole life dealing with the same situations, the same problems and I still get hurt. Shouldn't I be used to it by now?

Test Run

This is a new idea that I had to write and draw a bunch of stories. Some will be like this, most won't be quite the same in content and such. Let me know what you think and I'll think about continuing the project. 

A Short Story

The Girl on the Motorcycle


A dramatization of real events... or something like that

I had seen her so many times, riding her motorcycle to the Art building early in the morning every week. Seeing her became an expectation and I found myself wondering who this girl is. I had never searched for her, but she stood out whenever I was in the same place she was. And I couldn't help putting pieces of information together. It's just how I work. It comes with being an artist. I absorb everything I can and put all of the information given to me - intentionally or not - together.

The first time I had recognized her off of her bike was when I was walking to my class early in the morning and I realized that I knew the vest that she was wearing. Not very many people wear protective vests while riding a motorcycle, so it wasn't hard to put the pieces together. She had short hair styled in a subtle faux-hawk. Not surprising, given her choice of dress and the fact that I had never seen her hair peeking out of her helmet.

I never saw her toting the too recognizable drawing or painting pad, so that was out. She never carried ceramic or sculpture materials, either. She had to be either a teacher, or a digital arts student. Her association with other students made me assume fellow student, but not a new one. She was either upper level or in the master's program. The way she dressed and held herself was much like an artist, but there was something about her that told me that she was studying one of the graphic arts available. It was in her helmet and her vest. She was clearly drawn to the computer look. Not the bike, that doesn't leave much to tell me, because I don't know how or why she rides that particular bike.

She would never ride above the speed limit and her bike didn't have one of those obnoxiously loud mufflers like most bikes do. These two things told me that she either cares about her safety or she respects the law. Most likely both, knowing that the law is there to protect her, so she's going to follow it. This also gives a peek into her personality. She clearly likes riding a bike, so she likes the freedom, thrill and fun that comes with that, but she also knows the risks of riding along a bunch of mindless drivers that don't know how to drive around a bike. Fun, yes, but respectful, too.

Then I saw her walking. Not at school, but in my neighborhood. The first time it was just after sunset, she was holding hands with some man who was clearly important to her. They were walking a dog that looked like a beagle mix. Because she was with someone else, I couldn't make the assumption that she lived in the same neighborhood as me until I saw her again, walking the same dog, alone. She didn't even have it on a leash that time, but it stayed close to her. She loved her dog enough for it to stay close to her, but she didn't let it do whatever it wanted. She was alpha. There was no question about that.

I often found myself slightly unsettled by how much I knew about her without even trying. I've never said a single word to her. How could someone be so unguarded about who they are that some stranger could just pick up who she was without even trying? She either doesn't know it, or she just doesn't care. From what I know about her - limited assumptions, really - she probably just doesn't care. That's what drew my attention to her in the first place.

Confidence.

Her posture says that she's ready to take on the world if she has to, but she doesn't want to. Her subtle attention to detail shows that she cares just enough to get by in the world, but nothing more than that. She has personality and she has the respect of a stranger.

I doubt that I am the only one.

Not Very Exciting, Sorry.

So I walked to the Walgreens just down the street from me and it's kind of surprising how much can happen in just that one little walk. First of all, my neighbors are kind of sketchy. Anyway. I saw my old roommate, Lili on her bike and I got to talk to her for a minute as we were waiting for the signal to change so we could cross. She on her bike, me on my feet. I'll be honest, it was kind of weird that someone I used to see all of the time is no longer around. I'm not sure how I feel about it.

Another thing I noticed is how I don't really care how bad I sweat/smell until I'm in closed, air-conditioned buildings. I live in Florida; sweating comes with the territory and if you want to live here, you can't pay attention to how much you're sweating or else you'll either never leave your house or never stop showering (That would be weird. You'd be so pruney.) Probably both.

Thirdly, walking is fun. Especially if you don't have a particular schedule to meet. The world is so pretty. The sky is so blue and the clouds so pure, that I find it hard to find anything wrong with looking up. (think about that metaphorically, too. Pretty cool.) Anyway, walking feels so natural. I can just go out and let my mind wander, where I sort through everything that has happened or could happen or that I want to happen. It's kind of like dreaming, just a different kind of stress than sleeping.

Fourth. I really want to travel somewhere and I'm a little surprised to say that walking to the Walgreen's has curbed that extreme itch just a little. It satisfied just enough of that wanderlust that I'm constantly plagued with that I can handle it for a little while more. Weird how that happens.

And that's just about it for my trip to Walgreen's. I mean, there's one more thing, but I've decided to devote that to a completely different post later on.

Being in Love

Alright everyone, I have something to tell you.

You may have suspected it already, but I'm going to put these rumors to rest.

I'm in love.

That's right. In love.

With art.

... Yeah. Sorry. Not as gossip worthy as you might have wanted, but I'm grinning about it anyway.

Even though there have been a few times that I've liked a guy, I've never liked someone more than I love art. (Someone correct the punctuation for me. I can't figure it out.)

Now. I know this is going to sound self-absorbed, but I'm not talking about other people's art. I'm talking about creating art myself. I can only speak and listen when there is the action involved with the canvas, paper, etc.


Art is my life. And it's the only thing I can do no matter what mood I'm in.

It is the reason why I'm a little crazy, and it has kept me from insanity.


I can't have a one-sided relationship with art. It has to be a mutual understanding. We both communicate with each other.

It's not sleeping or busy when I need to talk. I can speak freely to art and it says so much back to me. I seriously learn so much from it. 
Art is the one thing that I've only wanted to spend more and more time with. It has never betrayed me. It has been my best friend that I could always tell my deepest secrets to without any fear of being judged by anyone but myself. I have come to terms with myself because of my art.

I appreciate people who have a love for art, but no deeper connection than that. I really do, but I can't be one of those people. Not anymore. Becoming an artist is irreversible. There is no turning back. Ever. It is a lifelong commitment that you can try to hide with responsible careers, but will always find someway of sneaking out. Like in your clothes. Or your desktop. Or your business cards. Take your pick.

Humanity

This is my newest drawing. It's just a sketch and I roughly added the colors on Photoshop. I fully intend for it to be a gigantic painting later on. It's name? Humanity.

A Bit of Artwork

I thought it might be nice to show you all some of my artwork, so here goes

The Marionette. 

This is how I imagine Christ.

Staircase in Savannah, Ga.

Self Portrait if I were a different type person. I was bored. Really, really bored.

Fascinated By Everything

Today I was looking up muscles just because they fascinate me. I like the strange names they have and seeing how they all have a purpose and place. I like the way the look when mapped out. Call me weird, but I do.

Last semester I drew skeletons over and over and over again (they were free models that wouldn't move while drawing them) and it was so cool! I never had the time to sit/stand and analyze what our bones look like until I had to draw them. Awesome stuff.

Communication also fascinates me. The reason why I want to learn other languages isn't so I can seem smart or I like one particular language, it's so I can slowly break down the barriers that we have because of miscommunication. Where words come from, how they've changed, how they are produced. It's all so incredible that I get a little giddy when I start talking about it.

I have been chided many times because of my simple fascination of everything. I've heard "You're so easily amused" or "There's nothing that doesn't interest you," to which I often reply cheerily, "I'd much rather be easily amused than never amused at all." And it's true. This life is to be enjoyed. No matter what your beliefs or non-beliefs are, you know it's so much easier to live when you genuinely enjoy everything around you.

There are so many wonders around us. Why not enjoy them?

Have you ever noticed how fast an ant moves? Incredible considering its size.

Have you ever watched the tip of you pen/pencil when writing? All of the sudden it seems like magic.

Think about it. We are surrounded by these things that we have grown so accustomed to, that we no longer consider them special.

So I Went On An Adventure.

Last week was spring break. And for those of you who know me know that I tend to get restless and crave adventures. Let me tell you, last week hit the spot.

Me and a few friends - some old, some new - went down to the everglades and set up our tents. We didn't have much of an agenda the first day, so we just talked with each other and entertained each other with jokes, stories and speculation.

The first night I saw a rainbow created by the moon. It was dark out and it had rained a little, but after the skies had cleared a little there was a rainbow - ever so faint, but definitely there. It was astounding. I didn't know it was possible, but there it was. I'm not talking about the ring around the full moon, but an actual rainbow on the opposite horizon.

Just looked it up on wiki. It's called a moonbow.

The next day we packed up and went to meet the rest of our group so we could launch off in our canoes and paddle our way to an uninhabited island.

Needless to say it was a pretty cool experience. The sky was constantly the best part of the trip, in my opinion. We canoed against everything. The tide, the waves and the wind. It was so hard. I apparently did something to my shoulder on the way there, because it hurt so bad, I was shaking and I couldn't get any sleep, no matter how hard I tried. I finally came out of the tent and ended up getting a blessing from two priesthood holders and things eventually turned out okay. I was the one to sit in the middle without a paddle on the way back, though. Lucky me there was one person who had to sit in the middle the entire time. (I'm not really putting it off as luck, though)

There are so many things that I learned on this trip that I don't know how to express. I don't think anyone will be able to understand without going through the same thing.

But yeah, for those that want to do the same thing, I would recommend it in a heart beat and wouldn't mind doing it again someday.

Pancakes and Waffles

I just got off the phone with a good friend and let me just tell you, today has been GOOD. Sure, not everything was perfect, but I feel good, loved and happy. The bad things of today will soon be forgotten. So, I've decided to make a list of things that make me happy for future reference. Here goes.

God and Jesus Christ.

They have to go first. Always. I know some people don't appreciate faith, or religion, but it plays too much of a role in my life for me not to mention it just for the sake of the few that would be offended by my own beliefs. God, whether you know it or not, loves each and every one of us. That means you. And me. And that makes me happy. I can always count on things being okay because I know this.

My family.

They're just the best friends I could ever ask for.

My friends.

They're basically family.

Pancakes.

Seriously best breakfast/anytime food ever. I may be the only person to prefer them to waffles, but oh well. They're amazing. IHOP is one of my favorite restaurants ever.

Tracy Chapman music.

No joke. Every time I listen to her I feel at peace and so relaxed. Whenever I hear the first few notes of "Fast Car" or "Crossroads" I sigh as if I had just stepped into a jacuzzi. She's amazing.

The ukulele.

It is what one's soul sounds like when it smiles. How can it NOT make you feel happy?

Art.

More of the creation than the actual viewing, to be honest. Art is my therapy. My best friend. My outlet. My sanity. My life.

When someone I miss starts the conversation.

I have some friends that I haven't talked to in a long time and some of them I really miss. The only reason that I haven't talked to them in a while is because I'm always the one to start the conversation, so I feel like I'm the only one interested in staying in touch and I lose the courage of calling/texting them. So I always appreciate it when someone just wants to talk to me.

Thinking.

I honestly enjoy thinking. I'm intrigued by just about anything and want to learn more about everything. I just like figuring stuff out. There's a reason why I know so many random facts about everything.

Comments.

They let me know people are actually reading this.

The last one's a joke.

... kinda.

Restless

Can I tell you something?

You probably already know it, but I'm going to say it again anyway.

I love to travel. Especially road trips.

And I'm kind of craving it right now. I want to be at the Grand Canyon again. I want to be in Germany or Japan, the two countries that have fascinated me for years. I want to be somewhere. ANYWHERE. But here. At my apartment. In Orlando. In Florida.

I'd prefer a sleeping bag or a friend's couch to a bed any day. (Especially since mine is incredibly uncomfortable). I prefer a campfire and guitar to an LCD screen and iTunes. I'm okay with things being a little dirty. I love the sound of crickets in the summer. I love the simple serenity of nature. I don't care if it's hot.

I just want to go somewhere. It doesn't have to be camping. I don't have to have a lot of people. Shoot. I would go alone if it was safe.

"Talent"

Talent.

I hear it all the time.

"You're so talented"

"I wish I had that talent"

"Talented people don't have to worry about working"

"That's because you're talented."

I'm sick of it.

Let me tell you a story.

I used to want nothing to do with art. I wanted to pursue some kind of wildlife biology/zoology career. I loved animals. I still do. All I did was read about animals, their habitats and natural lives.

I also loved Japanese comics and this one video game called Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles. This is important, because one day I drew my little character from this game. I was pleased with the way it turned out. It took me practically forever - especially for a 14 year-old in this day and age, but I liked it.

I was also surrounded by a bunch of art lovers from school. Please keep in mind that all of these artists have been pursuing art since they were in elementary school. I was incredibly far behind. However, I liked the challenge, so I decided to continue drawing.

Art soon became my obsession. A way of living. A way of seeing. A way of breathing.

All I did was draw. And draw. And draw. I did not just pick up a pencil and have the magical worlds of my imaginings appear on the paper on my lap.

That's just not how it works. I worked for that ability. I WORKED for that so-called TALENT.

Yes. I am talented in art. I worked my butt off for it.

I'm no better than the person next to me, though. He/she is definitely better than me in many different fields.

I'm tired of people thinking that I was born with the eye for art. I wasn't. I was born with the ability to grow and learn. Just like everyone else.

People'd Out

Once my roommate told me that she couldn't determine if I was the most anti-social social person or the most social anti-social person she ever met. I told her that I was probably the most social anti-social person. More times than not I prefer to be alone. Even when I want to be with others, I never really want a bunch of people around me. I hate crowds. And I have a low tolerance for a lot of people and what they do and their different quirks etc.

A lot of the people around me are those who I spend more time helping than anything else. There are a few friends who I would be friends with even if they never needed anything from me. I'm tired of being expected to do something for everyone. I know people need my help, but when do I get a break?

I'm so used to helping others that I don't even consider my own schedule anymore. I send more text messages that say "I'm here" (to pick people up) and answering favors than anything else.

I've reached my limit. I feel like I can't ask for help. I can't even ask others for a little bit of their time. I don't need to talk about my problems. I just need social interaction. I have a few friends that are also busy helping others or with their own agendas and I can't ask them to do what I always do for others to the point of hating it.

I keep telling myself to just suck it up. It'll be over soon enough. I'll get used to it again. I'm strong enough to deal with this. I always have dealt with it. Nothing has changed. I don't need the dog that I've wanted for so long so I could have something that would love me. Something that would be able to spend time with me and go on walks at the park with me whenever I'm free. I can do that alone, right?

The Beauty of Healing

This is a very personal post, so if you are one of those people who hates reading about trials in other's lives I would suggest you don't read this one.

I'm going to be honest. I have been in pain. For the past 12 years I had held onto what one person did to me for so long, that I could no longer trust very many people. This was not fair to all the people that I had come in contact with. They deserved my trust and they've done nothing wrong that proved otherwise.

I realized that this was an issue about 2, almost 3 years ago. I didn't want to admit that anything was wrong, though. I thought that maybe if I ignored it, it would go away. I was wrong. The wound never healed, but festered with infection and kept coming back, worse each time.

Last night I wrote a letter. A letter to the person that hurt me so much that I became this way. I doubt he remembers what he did to me, but I remembered.

Today I burned that letter. As that letter burned I promised that I would let what was holding me down go. I let go of that burden on my shoulders.

I took a picture of the fire and sent it to my good friend who is the only person who knows what I was struggling through. And then I cried.

I'm still not sure if I was crying because of the loss of what I had been holding on to or because I could FINALLY move on. I am finally willing to begin trusting others and allowing them closer to me. I'm pretty sure it was a mix of both.

I had grown comfortable with my pain. I had grown even more comfortable with the barriers that I had put up so no one would be able to cause that much pain in my life ever again. As of today, I am breaking down those barriers.

I know I am not completely healed yet. I know the would will still itch and that I'll have to keep constant care of it, but I'm ready to let it heal properly this time.

Contemplations While the Breadsticks Are in The Oven

I hate opening. I mean. How do you lead into thoughts that have already been led into?

Deep. I know.

Now. While you're pondering on THAT zinger-ma-bob let me distract you with the thoughts that I have already led into a semi-conclusion. Semi? Yes. Because no matter what I decide on now, it can always be changed later on depending on circumstance, realization of truer options, development of cynicism, yada yada.

Lately I've had a stronger fascination of stars than usual. I've always loved the stars and all things that lay in our human perception of the sky. Think about what those stars mean. Does their existence strike any emotion in you? Do you feel awed? Insignificant? Apathetic? I feel great when I look at them. I love the stars because I exist. Just like they do. True. They may not all still be producing gas and heat and all that lovely space goodness that is a star, but the light that they produce still exists. That's good enough for me.

And. Along with the stars, we exist with people. I know that's an obvious statement, but from the way people act it's probably pretty new to most of us. We don't realize that we MEAN something. To everyone. Someone. Me. You. Her. Him. Anyone.

You. Have power. Don't underestimate it. You have the power to affect other people's lives for the better. And the worse. You could help that frail old woman pull all 18 jars of Red Raspberry preserves from the Publix shelf that she couldn't reach because of her scoliosis. Or you could say the wrong word that could just be the last straw on the already breaking back of a figurative camel.

One word. One look. That's all it takes.

Our existence is so important that we must work and work incredibly hard to remember that so is everyone else's.

If people would realize that, I think that we would ALL think twice before we did anything.

That piece of trash you threw on the ground? Yeah. That piece of trash along with all the other seemingly insignificant pieces are now clogging the drainage pipes and are causing all of the roads to flood. Try getting home now.

That kid you just laughed at for falling off of his bike? He has equilibrium problems, but is determined to rise above any obstacles that come before him. Is that not good enough for you?

The bald girl with the puffy cheeks? She has cancer and will never be able to live the life she wants. Or the life you have.

Now. I want to turn our minds back to the stars. I want you to think about all of the stars you can see when out in the wilderness and far away from light pollution. Now. I want you to think of the city you live in. (Or closest to. Pick your poison.) How many stars can you see now?

What are we doing to ourselves and the millions of people around us? We're taking the things that are made by humanity and glorifying them so much that we cover the stars.

Don't get me wrong. It is fascinating to me that we have the power to cover the sky with our light. However. I would much rather see what belongs in the sky. Not what we are putting there.

What Really Matters?

I was talking to my roommate the other day about what I was going to be wearing to an activity and then I started talking about why we care so much about so many things that really, when you think about it, don't matter. She then asked me if it were possible for me to think of anything without turning it into something deep or philosophical. I'm pretty sure I said pizza, but if you give me enough time, I could change that, too.

After fretting about which shoes or hat I was going to wear (it wasn't a matter of choosing which matches best, but worst) I started to wonder out loud why we, as humans, started to care so much about things that are so insignificant. She asked for an example and I just pointed to myself with my plaid paper boy hat, red shirt, vest, jeans and orange high tops. Point made.

Think about it. Does it really matter that I'm wearing orange shoes with a red t-shirt? Is it really going to change anything other than the opinion of a few people that I have never met before? Those who know me already know who I am and I don't really care about what anyone else thinks.

My goal in life is not to impress a bunch of strangers. No. It's to be who I am and only worry about what God thinks of me. My opinion of myself isn't even that important, because I know that if I am doing my best to be who He wants me to be, I don't have to worry, because I KNOW I'll be a better person than anyone I could ever be if I were only trying to impress the world.

Now, just because I feel that way about myself does not mean that I expect everyone to agree. I know that dressing up and looking nice is important to a lot of people. Just because I don't wear make-up does not mean that I'm going to judge you for wearing it. I live my life my way and you live yours your own way. There are times that I will bring up issues that I believe are harming a good friend, but only as an expression of concern. The choice is never mine to make.

But yeah, have you ever wondered why it is that we worry about things like how to match our clothing? If you think about it it doesn't really make all that much sense. Or maybe I just don't care enough to think that it is important?

Why does it matter whether or not we have fancy phones that keep us constantly connected to the world and therefore paranoid that we are missing out on some seemingly vital information on how to cook the perfect fried egg. Or about Taylor Swift's most recent heartbreak. WHY DOES IT MATTER??? If you were besties with Taylor, yeah, that would be important, because your best friend is going through a major heart break, but most of us are NOT best friends with her and frankly we don't need to know. Or why is it announced every time two actresses are wearing the same dress in the same week. Would I care about someone else sporting a threadless t-shirt that I own? Not really. In fact, I'd probably get excited.

Life is hard enough as it is. Sometimes worrying about little things takes up way too much effort.

A Tribute to the Letta-Mobile

The most depressing view I've seen in a long time was seeing my car in the side-mirror of the tow truck that was driving me and the Letta-mobile back to my home. It's probably the head gasket that is the problem and I'm afraid it'll cost more than what the car is worth.

Anyone who has ridden in the car with me knows what a piece of crap it is, but it has so much character and has been my constant friend these past 20 months.

I hate thinking that I might have to replace it. Or just say goodbye. No replacement. I don't really have the money to buy a replacement car, maybe not even the repairs for Felix. (HIS name is FELIX, Jess. I know what your opinion is.) Especially right now that I have to pay for tuition and such.

Luckily I'm within walking distance to the university and I own a rain jacket. Two vitals while living in Central Florida. I also have a bike, but I need to get a bike lock for that. My last one fell off while I was biking to class. I've also taken a liking to walking lately, so I think I'll be fine.

Let me tell you a little bit about this car. I first got it at the very beginning of the coolest road trip I had ever been on. I picked up the car from my sister in Portland and drove it back down to Tallahassee. We took 3 weeks to make the trip. It was amazing. I got to see so much of America.

Then I packed all of my stuff into that tiny little Honda Civic and moved to Orlando.

That car is the reason I have been able to serve as much as I have. I spent more of my time in that car for other people than I have for myself. The only time I would consistently be by myself was when I was going to school or to Tallahassee to visit. I don't regret it. I've learned so much about people and myself that I would have never learned otherwise. I've made some great friends because I was so willing to drive others around.

I know it's kind of silly to post a tribute to a car, but there's really so much more to it than that.

I am so grateful that I ever had it.

Yeah, it's 17 years old. But, it had the most character out of any car I've ever been in.

Yeah, it doesn't have a radio 'cuz some jerk stole it and the only reason I haven't replaced it is because part of the dashboard was taken with it. But I learned to appreciate silence because of it.

Yeah, it was a little annoying to drive a stick shift in Orlando traffic. But I've gotten so good at driving stick that some people that have been in my car many times don't even realize that it is a manual.

Yeah, it majorly needs a new paint job. But the bumper stickers are the best part.

Yeah, it sounded like a pod racer whenever I braked. But I wouldn't have it any other way.

I'm really hoping that I don't have to say good-bye to him just yet, but what happens, happens.

The hardest part for me, honestly is going to be me asking for rides. I hate asking for help.

No Titles For Me!

Today someone told me that she finally figured me out. At first I was confused, but then she went on to explain her idea of who I am. This is what she said,

You're confident in who you are. You're quiet and shy. You're kind. And you're awesome and I love you. And you're honest. Even when it's awkward.

Now. Let me tell you what I was thinking the whole time driving home after she said that.

Yeah. I am confident in who I am, but only to a certain point. I hate it when people put expectations on me - a problem from my upbringing that is for another day- so I've learned to only follow the expectations that I have of myself.

Quiet and shy? Sure took you some time to figure that one out... I'm really bad at talking, so I don't talk unless I know you pretty well. And that takes some time.

Kind... I guess... I find it hard to understand what it is to be kind. Actually I don't understand a lot of things, but that's not the point. What is being kind? Is it doing something for someone else because they need/want it? Is it sacrificing your time, strength, know-how, patience or money even though you would rather keep it for yourself? Is it controlling your initial reaction to ill thoughts and actions of other, responding calmly and collectedly? Is it putting yourself last? Is it learning to love, like our Saviour and Heavenly Father would love? Whichever it is, I'm working on it. It's not something I was born with, trust me.

Awesome. WHAT THE HECK DOES THAT MEAN???? I do things because I think it's fun. Not because it makes me awesome. Once again, I hardly care what people think of me. That's all.

And yeah. I try to be honest almost to the point of a fault. Mostly because I don't realize that saying my opinion can hurt people. A lot of people appreciate it, even if it is really awkward, and everyone else doesn't know how to handle it. I just say things how I really feel because speaking is a difficult enough task for me that I don't want to have to put in even more effort to curb my words for the sake of not risking anything. I would probably just give up talking in all if it took that much effort.

I normally hate it when people tell me about myself, but for some reason this time it was okay. Maybe it was the person, or maybe it was because she didn't say that she wished she had something that I did. She just said it. And I was okay with that.

When I tell people that I am an artist I usually get the response, "That's so cool! I wish I could draw!" and I normally respond with, "Yeah, I used to say the same thing." Because I did! I was HORRIBLE at drawing. I was even worse when it came to color! I had little to no creative talent. I was only good at math and science. But, drawing was something that I wanted to learn, so I learned. Let me tell you - it was no easy task. I have thousands of drawings from the past six years and only about .2% of them are part way decent. But I never gave up. This is what I did for EVERY single thing that I have. Some things were easier to work towards, it's true, but none of it was free.