Sketchbook Update

I am done.

I need to mail this out asap.

But I am going to charge my camera and take a few photos first.

I promise.

Sketchbook Update(ish) #2

Oh, how I am the silly little monkey.

This is why I took on this sketchbook project - to follow through on something.  To FINISH something.  I have worked on it, I swear.  Just not that much...

But I'd like to say that I have been working on art projects.  I just can't say too much about them, because they are meant to be gifts for Christmas.  That's positive.

It's always little lazy excuses for not updating you on my sketchbook project.  The sheepish excuse I'm using right now:  "I need to use my real camera instead of the camera on my phone to take a picture of the book, and that means I have to find my usb cord, upload the photos onto my computer, sift through the photos that are already on there (which means I'm going to get distracted) and then I can post a photo onto my blog...but it's already dark, and I'm not going to get a good shot with this lighting."

Is this normal???

Do other people make these lame excuses to not do SIMPLE tasks?

It's like a Lego has been placed in front of me, and I think, "Holy crap look at that wall!  I'm never going to be able to climb over that!  I may as well sit down and have some tea."  And I do.  Sit.  But without the tea, because that's all the way in the kitchen, and I have to heat up the water...

What is wrong with me?

There are so many days that I just sit and stop.  Stop working, stop moving, everything...stops.  Except for my mind.  And my self criticism. 

Maybe I should see a shrink...

Sketchbook Update #1

Howdy,

As promised, an update on my Sketchbook Project.

Remember, the theme I was given was monochromatic.  So, using a gauche wash (ha, that's pronounced "gwash wash") I painted each page a different color.  I decided to keep it light and a little uneven, giving it a slight watercolor effect.  And....

that's all I've done.

That's alright, though.  This was the most tedious part of the project, lots of painting and waiting, with some hair dryer action during my impatient periods.  But it's all done now, and I'm really happy that this part is finished.  I haven't taken any photos yet, but I will. 

The next step is going to be fun:  doodling!  I'm going to let my imagination run wild with this part, so stay tuned...

Hey! I Have a Reason to Update!

Look at that title! I'm actually doing something interesting enough to me that's worthy of blogging! How about that?

This is what it is...

http://www.arthousecoop.com/projects/sketchbookproject

Did you click on it? Not yet? Okay. I'll tell you about it. It's called The Sketchbook Project. I will be one of thousands participating in filling up a sketchbook for the Brooklyn Art Library. We can do whatever we want. It's all about showcasing our process as an artist - how we form ideas, what flows from our brains, and just an expression of ourselves. When we're done, we mail our sketchbook to the Brooklyn Art Library. Then the books will tour the country, and maybe even other parts of the world. Pretty cool, huh?

Now for the nail-biting stuff (at least to me). Each sketchbook has a sticker on the back cover containing the owner's name and a bar code. During the tour, the books will be scanned, keeping track of each and every time your sketchbook is looked at. I'll get an email whenever anyone looks at my book...

what if I don't get any emails? Ick. I'm not sure I like this tracking process. Can't I just fill up my book, send it back, and know I have something somewhere? I'll be satisfied with that.

When all is said and done, the sketchbooks will go back to the Brooklyn Art Library, where they will be archived and stay there (in low echoing voice) FOREVER.

I'm really excited about this project. Oh! I forgot to mention that we got themes to help us find a direction to go with our sketchbook. We were able to pick from a list of themes, or let the computer randomly decide for us. Since I am the most indecisive person I know, I let the computer choose my fate, and it selected "monochromatic". I'm actually happy with that. I already have a few ideas. I really need to stop thinking of ideas because, as I said before, I am indecisive.

Okay, brain...pick an idea...aaaaaaand...done. Idea settled on. Not changing. Nope. It's set.

But I'm not telling you what it is. Not just yet.

So, for my next several blog posts (yes, I will update!) I think I will let you know about my progress, and offer up little sneak peaks. Since I won't be getting my sketchbook back when I'm done, I figure it'll be a good idea to document it all and maybe photograph the finished product.

Woohoo! I'm doing something! Something exciting! Something creative! Something for me!

I Like Quotation Marks

Trying to find my way.

There is so much in me that wants to write. But I don't take these desires seriously. I say to myself, "You're creative, just write. You don't need to make notes, do drafts or outlines. Just write."

But it doesn't work that way. I am not an incredible writer. I can be. But I need to take it more seriously. I need to practice. I need to put actual effort and thought into the process, rather than just "let my feelings flow and allow my fingers to do the talking..."

...blah, blah, blah. That is just a bunch of malarkey.

I can do this. I can become a better writer. I can become a better anything if I actually practice and work at the desired skill.

I'm not there. I am far from there, and I don't think I will ever truly reach "there". There is no end to improvement. There is an end, however, when you quit. And that's not what I want to do.

It's been a long time, I know.

But I don't feel like writing.

So much is going on, but what's plaguing my mind right now are not my stories to tell.

I'll get back to this, in time.

I Like Me, but I Like You More

Trying new things scares me. I try to convince myself that staying in a state of comfort and contentment is a good thing. But I know this is not true. I get scared to dive (or even tip-toe) into new endeavors, so I don't try.

No es bueno.

In my attempts to get out of my comfort zone, I have agreed to help a dear friend with a school project. She is taking a children's literature class, and for her final, she needs to create a children's book. My part in this project is to illustrate it.

Yikes.

The past six years of having the title of ARTIST for my occupation would make you think that I'm absolutely bonkers for feeling nervous about illustrating a children's book. But I can't help it, these types of things freak me out. It's one thing to draw endless amounts of food and silly grocery-related images that, for me, hold no emotional attachment. It's become almost an assembly line of sorts, one sign after another, after another, after another - albeit, a fun assembly line. But I don't create these signs for me, nor do I make them for friends and loved ones. I do it for "the man", how he wants it, and I say "ok". That's alright - it's not going in my house.

To take on a project that matters to someone important to me...that's another story, and I don't want to let them down.

But that's why I'm doing it. It forces me to really take pride in the project, to focus, and to use my own imagination. Nothing motivates me more than making sure I'm not letting someone else down.

One of these days, I will mean as much to me as the people I care about. I will care enough to not want to let myself down. One of these days I'll work on projects for myself, because they will help me grow and learn. It's not going to happen today, though. But to tackle this project is the first step to telling myself, "Hi there. I love you."

Your Orneriness Makes Me Giggle...JAZZ HANDS!!

I get a certain feeling of satisfaction when I'm in a good mood while everyone else around me is cranky. When one person is in a foul mood, I tend to think, "Hmm, what's their problem?" or, "Okay, I'll stay away from them." But, when it seems like everyone around me is a total cranky-pants, I get a little giddy...

...is that wrong?

You:

I hate you

Me:

Hahahaha! That's great! So great! Life is great!


You:

WHY ARE YOU SO HAPPY?!! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?!! DIE! DIE! DIE!!!


Me:

Heh. I like you. You make me happy. *Hugs*

Dancing. Dancing makes them more mad, too. Especially when I stare right at them, ear-to-ear grin on my face, lots of arm pumping, and quick jig-like prancing. End it with jazz hands. Yeah...jazz hands.

Perspective

I've been paying a lot of attention to all the recent devastating events around the world. It's heartbreaking, unnerving, eye-opening, and humbling. It takes my everyday life and makes it feel so small and insignificant, yet so precious and safe at the same time.

I love my family.
I love my husband.
I love my friends.
I love my cat.

I am thankful for the job I have, the roof over my head, the easy access to food, medicine, and everything else that I take for granted and makes me sometimes forget how lucky I am.

But there's always Gary Numan in the Background

I've been in a very introspective mood lately. Lots of thinking, little action. I've been thinking of all sorts of things - probably too many to tie into a tidy little blog post, though. Maybe this is a good time for a list. A "Krisha's Thoughts" List. Hmmm...yep. We'll do that.

** I've still been doing a lot of the "should we/shouldn't we" have a baby thinking. So far, I am still completely lost as to what I really want to do.

- Sub-thoughts for this:
**A part of me feels selfish for actually having a baby, but a part of me feels selfish for not having one.
**I've read several articles on how the number of couples choosing to not have kids is on the rise. I agree wholeheartedly with a lot of their reasons for not having one - they made so much sense to me, yet they also made me feel somewhat sad.
**I find myself looking at cute kids a lot. I also find myself cringing at kids misbehaving, or kids with an excessive amount of drool or snot on them.
**Condoms are easier to change than diapers, and a pill is easier to swallow than hospital bills and the cost of an education.

Ok, more thoughts:

**I made a decision a while back to donate my hair again. My hair is getting quite long, but ten inches (the minimun donation length) is a lot of hair, and if I cut it now, my hair will be REALLY short, which is not a flattering length on me. I want to cut my hair RIGHT NOW, to a desired length, but I'm resisting. I feel unpleasantly plain and boiring with this long hair, but I feel pretty damn vain for wanting to cut it before I can donate it. The fact that this matter is even occupying my limited brain capacity makes me feel silly.

**I wish Edgar knew how to go to the bathroom in the toilet. His ability to do that would save me so much time, money and unanticipated gagging.

**I don't feel like I've done anything really exciting in the past couple of months. I'm itching to step out of my comfort zone and do something out of my norm, but then I start to worry about how much a new endeavor will cost. I don't like how I always worry about money.

**Greg is going to start a new endeavor, and I'm really excited for him! He is going to get professional training for music production, in a real working studio. I'm glad he's doing something that involves music, which is something that he has always, and will always love. I'm a little jealous, though, because I wish I new what it is that I love to do. It makes me think of what that could be. Regardless of my own lost path right now, I am 1000% behind his decision, and support him all the way.

**I have finally learned to keep my bedroom clean! Small feat of accomplishment for some people, but for Greg and myself, this is up there with surviving the sinking of the Titanic or finding the image of the Virgin Mary in your Cheerios type of miracle. Now I desperately long to actually decorate it so I can stop feeling like I sleep inside of a giant avocado (slight paint selection error on my part, but with some clever decor, I think I can make it work).

**I really wish I had coconut fruit bars in the freezer right now. Or Dippin' Dots! I LOVE that ice cream of the future! I know people knock it, but it just feels so cool (no pun intended)in my mouth. (I know this thought is not very deep, but it's my thought. They're not all winners.)

**For the past two nights I have been feeding my brain with pleasant images before I go to sleep, to see if I'll dream about them...AND I HAVE. For now, I will see this as a coincidence, but if it happens a third - no, let's say a fourth time in a row, you'll have to admit that that's pretty fucking cool.

**With the help of my very good friend, Brook, I have made my very first plushie! I'm currently in the process of finishing two more, so I can give them to my niece and nephews when I visit California. I'm actually having fun with it. I have a lot yet to learn, but I already have ideas for another one. I'll post pictures when I'm done with all of them. Although I like making them (so far), I don't want to feel like I'm copying a craft that my friend has sort of made a niche for. She's the original plushie queen, and I don't want to feel like a copy-cat.

Well, there you have it. The innards of my brain. I've left out the smaller thoughts of "I'm gassy - ooh, bacon - I'm sleepy - I'm hungry - what's that smell - mmm, bacon", but those are usually always streaming in my mind. Those thoughts and the constant streaming of the song "Cars" by Gary Numan...

"'Here in my car
I feel safest of all
I can lock all my doors
It's the only way to live
In cars (doo-do doo-do. doo-do doo-do)"


Gary Numan Pictures

AADD

I have AADD

That's Artist's Attention Deficit Disorder.

I walked into Collage yesterday, where I immediately transformed into a kid in a candy store, or- more accurately- an artist in an art store.

Actually, the more appropriate description would be the starving artist in the art store.

In my dream home, I would have a room that looked like Collage. Every tool imaginable for any craft or artform that exists, all at my fingertips! What do I want to do today? Jewelery making? Ok! How about playing with stamps, or metal, or wood-carving, felt, watercolor, clay, EVERYTHING AND ANYTHING!

Sigh.

But I had $15 to spend, and all the smart-shopping in the world would not prepare me to buy all the goodies I desire with $15 dollars.

So I roamed the store, craft table to craft table...what do I want to work on?

I seem to start about a million projects, and finish none. I can't seem to stick to one medium long enough to see anything through, and that, my friends, is discouraging.

I've got some surprises in the works. Something I've never tried before, so I have a dear friend showing me the ropes. Fingers crossed, let's hope I don't suck, and let's hope even more that I don't give up. Because giving up sucks. I know. I give up on things a lot.

I mean A LOT.

It sucks.

Can you tell that I'm in a sort of rut?

It kind of sucks.

Aunt Ilse

Aunt Ilse and Dad:

I wouldn't have the job I have (and love) without her. I wouldn't have the love of simple, antiquated Victorian treasures, and I wouldn't still have the belief (even if during my adult years it's only slight) that dolls and teddy bears come to life when no one's there to see them, if I didn't have her in my life. I never knew her for the full woman that she was, only as my Aunt Ilse who loved me despite the time and space between visits, and who never let me leave her home without a dolly or bear under my arm.

I always felt so close to her, though never admitted it to anyone else in the family. She taught me how to write calligraphy, and with that, she helped me develop a skill and respect for lettering, which I now use everyday for a living. Through her avid doll and teddy bear collecting, she showed me that even if you have a rare and sought-after item, it's usually the most simple piece that is valued the most, even if it's by no one but yourself, because it has sentimental value. And from her I inherited the habit of constantly re-heating food because it starts to get too cool for your liking - I'm with you on that, Aunt Ilse.

As would be expected, I am sad to know that my Aunt Ilse is no longer with us - I have shed my tears. But I also feel a sense of peace, knowing that she is no longer suffering, no longer lost in a world within her mind that has long since abandoned her. She gets to be free from her ailing body, and I'm sure wherever she is, Uncle Hank is waiting for her with a hug and witty little joke.

My dolls and teddy bears have long been donated and sold at garage sales, except those she gave me (and a few others that hold sentimental value). And just like these precious toys that I will never part with, so too shall the love I have for her stay forever in my heart.

Another New Year Post

A new year.

A new day.

A new start.

What do I want to do?

More.

That is my New Year's resolution. More.

Every year I make specific resolutions, and by the end of the year some of those goals don't seem so important anymore. A lot can change in a year. Focus and priorities shift, and discoveries are made to make me reconsider what is important to me at that moment in time. As I let go of some of these resolutions, I get upset with myself, because I feel as though I am giving up or failing. I also hesitate to do something else, or set a different goal, because I feel I should stick to my original goals, for the principal of the matter. I hem and haw, hesitate and pause, and find that a year has gone by and I haven't done, seen, or been nearly enough that I wanted to do, see and be. So all I can say to myself is that whatever path I choose to take, whatever new plans I choose to make, and dreams I grab onto, I will do more with them. And if it all changes in a day, I will be okay, as long as I keep moving, and doing more.

I will do more.

I will love more.

I will be more.

Off

It's been one of those days...

You know, where everything is just...off. Even as I write this, my computer is glitching, showing each letter one keystroke late.

Time to reboot.

...

...

...

Okay, I'm back.

I know everyone has had many of these days. Nothing tragic has happened. Nothing overly dramatic. I'm just off kilter with the rest of my surroundings, and it makes me want to hide.

I wait and wait for an expected call, only for it to come whilst sitting on the toilet, and my phone is juuuuuust out of reach.

I get no texts at all throughout the day, that is, right until I start driving.

Everywhere I need to get to while I'm at work, someone's already standing there, blocking that one spot I need to reach...and they're the only one around.

Each and every red light stops by to say, "Hello, Krisha. Whatcha doing?"

I feel invisible to every car on the road. My turn to go - oh, okay, I guess you can go first. Oh, you too, truck? Well, surely you can see me, my lights are on - oh, hey now, please don't hit me.

It's like I woke up a beat off to the song called "Today", and I've never been able to sync up with the rhythm. It makes me sigh.

Oh, and just as I was about to publish this post, my cat peed on the carpet.

Aaaaaand post.

A Lot Has Changed in Ten Years

2000:



2010:



They're right. The more you are together, the more you start to look alike.

Looking Back

Recently Greg decided to read through almost all of my blog posts. That gave me a great idea: I'm going to copy what he did.

So I did. I read back through all of my posts. Upon doing so, I realized several things:

I've grown. I've become more happy over the past three years of writing on here, and I have become more comfortable in my own skin. Not to say that there isn't A LOT that I can still work on for myself, but self-improvement is a never-ending process. I think if someone can say "I am exactly who I want to be, and I don't need to ever change again," they may need to start back at square one. The world around us is constantly changing. Plants and animals are constantly evolving and adapting to their ever changing environment, so why shouldn't we?

I won't necessarily say that I failed in my efforts to volunteer more. Ok, I failed. I should say it. But that's ok. I wanted to volunteer, so I could give without asking for anything in return. I wanted to do something outside of my little world, because I was feeling like I wasn't making an impact on anyone's life - at times not even my own life. So I went out there, and I looked at a few organizations. I even signed up for the Humane Society - went through all my interviews, orientations and training - and even worked a couple days. But it just wasn't a good fit for me. And while I was making time to volunteer, I was losing time on other aspects of my life that I wanted to work on. Mainly, I wanted (still want) to do more for my family, little gestures, a bigger effort to stay connected with them. Then I thought about the quote (as cheesy as it sounds) "Charity begins at home." My time, my love, my efforts for now (and really always, but not solely), need to go to my family. So I am giving. I am trying. So yes, I did fail in the aspect of traditional volunteering, I will admit that. But in my efforts, I have learned, and I have made helpful discoveries, and that's the best part about failure.

About wanting to cook more. Hmmm....yeah, I do cook more. Do I cook as often as I said I would? No. I had made a small goal for myself, and that was to cook one meal at home every week. I don't really do that. Hell, I forgot that I even wrote about doing that. Bummer. I have learned how to make the most delicious marinated chicken legs ever, though. That's a small accomplishment.

I can say this: I feel good. I like where I am going in my life. I have made changes that I am happy with, and I feel my mistakes and failures have been recognized and accepted with an open mind and humility. I am taking care of myself without feeling guilty or selfish, and that is a pretty big accomplishment for me.

For "You"

It's a strange age we live in - the age where we can communicate through a solely virtual world. All the people that speak to one another through the computer and ONLY the computer. Instead of a handshake or hug, we get a virtual "poke", instead of a smile from a beautiful face - eyes sparkling, fine lines and wrinkles emerging from around our lips and the corners of the eyes, we get a colon and parenthesis. Our walls are down, because our screens are up, and we get to decide how people will see us, because we can backspace, delete, pause and wikipedia our speech. Like a piece of clay, we mold, re-mold, and re-shape our image until it is up to our standards of the "us" we want the virtual world to see.

I'm sure we all twist our worlds a little from time to time, trying to make our day seem more interesting, double-checking our spelling so we don't present ourselves as less knowledgeable as we'd like to believe to be, copying and pasting, cropping, editing, photoshopping and more. But sometimes I think (some more than others) we take advantage of the ability to edit ourselves. When we paint ourselves as the victim, we need to step away from typing about the wrongs which have been bestowed upon us hoping to gain sympathy, and instead we need to lift our hands off the keys, and face no one but ourselves, to learn - and accept - that sometimes, it's our own fault. Sometimes, we aren't trying hard enough. Sometimes, it was us that made the mistake. Sometimes, we fail, and sometimes from these failures, we hurt people we care about.

Sometimes we need to step away from our computers, and fix ourselves - without witnesses. Learn true humility - without documenting every step. Learn to truly cope - without waiting for a comment to say you've done it the right way. Learn to truly try. Learn that it's okay to mess up, and it's okay to not let everyone know what's happening in every second of your life. Learn to stop blaming someone else for something that you can take control of. Stop painting someone else as the bad guy, and learn that sometimes the bad guy is you. Learn that all the online comments in the world will not turn a lie into a truth.

Free Write: Sister

Your voice carries like the wind, bouncing off the buildings, sweeping the leaves of the trees with a gentle push of your sounds.
Carry on.
Carry on.
You showed me beauty in my youth, now I see fear.
But carry on, my dear.
Your beauty, your strength, your need to stand tall.
It's still there.
Carry on.
Carry on, my dear.
Your bruises will fade, your tears will dry. But you alone must stand up and try.
Carry on.
Carry on.
Carry on, my dear.
A gentle push, like your voice to the trees, will not make you fall, nor will it lead you to your dreams. You alone can reach those stars. You alone, your will, your never-ending effort to keep yourself going. Step. Step.
Carry on.
Carry on.
Carry on, my dear.
Do not let your fears quiet your shine, dull out your eyes, keep moving on, fight to get yourself back.
Carry on.

Gracias

It's that wonderful time of year again! The time when we celebrate my hobby: eating!

Ahhh, Thanksgiving, one of my favorite times of the year, where eating until the brink of vomiting is encouraged, and being lazy is welcomed into any home - at least any home I've been in. I am thankful for the gargantuan turkey Greg will prepare in a few hours, thankful for Gina inviting us into her home for the holiday, and thankful for so much more! So, in keeping with this grand holiday tradition of giving thanks (we'll ignore all the sad parts with the Native Americans getting screwed), I'd like to list a few things that I am so very grateful for...

Family:

- Of course, familia. Numero uno in my book. I forget to call, I move hours and hours and hours away, I don't write, I rarely send little gifts or notes to simply state "I'm thinking of you, and I love you". I'm pretty bad at keeping in touch actually, but THEY STILL LOVE ME. This I know. No matter how much time or distance, my family will always be the love of my life. My brother and sister are the best people in the world, and without them in my life, I would be broken. My father has sacrificed more than I will ever know to keep me safe, with a roof over my head, food in my mouth, and as happy as I could be, even through our most troubling times. My mom...she is a special one, shall we say? For all the tears and heartbreak, I still know that no one on this earth will ever love me more than she does, and one day I hope we will both know how to share this love with each other to the best of our abilities. Let's not forget all the rest: aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, nieces and nephews - they are ALL important to me. Whether is was early on in my life, with my older cousins watching over me and playing with me, or more recent with new babies and milestones, there's a cherished memory with each family member - all 1,000 of them ;o)

- Getting a little more specific: I am thankful that my sister never stops letting her kids know who I am. I breaks my heart some days, being so far from my niece and nephews, but my sister is so good at telling those kids who I am, and how much I love them. I hope that one day I will be just as good at letting them know myself, but for now, I am so grateful that when I do get to see them, they run to me with open arms and without hesitation.

- Let's not forget Greg. I love him for who he is. He loves me for who I am. If there's ever a rough moment for us, we keep trying, instead of giving up, and we truly respect one another. There are always other fish in the sea, but every day, I choose him and he chooses me. It's as simple as that. Go rugby team.

- My friends in Oregon. It took me a while to get adjusted to living so far away from who and what I knew. I've made some pretty phenomenal friends along the way. Gina, Brook and Eek - I am thankful for the crazy little family we've created up here. I'd be lost without you girls.

- My cat. Call me a crazy cat lady, but Edgar is my baby. Seventeen years - over half of my life - this fuzzy little fatty has been a with me. This morning, I threw a blanket over my shoulders, scooped Edgar up into my arms, went downstairs and shared a quiet cuddly moment. We have a lot of these moments, and I am thankful for every single one.

- Bacon. I will always be grateful for bacon. Not only does it taste DELICIOUS, but it has become a topic of conversation between me and so many people. They know me for bacon. It's a good ice-breaker.

- My job. Despite all the growing corporate drama, I love my job. I am thankful to have one at all. But seriously, I get to draw for a living. Granted, I don't get to be as creative as I want to be, nor do I get to show "my" style, but I get to use paint, and markers and sometimes even glitter spray, and that's pretty rad. Besides, if I got to show my own style, the store would be filled with dancing poop, blood & guts, and way more sarcastic bullet points - probably not the best marketing.

- I am thankful for the desire to never stop creating. Now I've got to work on the actual drive, but that want is still there, and with as many times as I've ignored this desire to draw, write, paint, act, whatever it may be, that tiny little flame to be imaginative hasn't died out.

- I am thankful for my silliness. I like poop jokes. I laugh when I fart, or when anyone farts for that matter. Call me juvenile, or call me immature. I will always dance goofy, talk in weird voices, and giggle at inappropriate times.


Well, that's my list. There's a lot more to be thankful for, but if I listed it all, this post would never end. Every day I find something to be thankful for. Every healthy day my grandmother has, I am grateful. Every day that goes by where my cat doesn't have a seizure, I give thanks. Every shining moment in life - be it grand (like being able to take a great vacation - next up: Ireland) or small (There's a can of crab in my fridge with my name all over it!) I am truly grateful for all of it. Life can really suck sometimes, and if we don't recognize all the little moments of greatness, it can break us. I hope to always try and find every little moment in life that reminds me to give thanks.

It Was Easier When I Was Sad

So I have no real worries. Nothing out of the ordinary. Paying bills, cleaning the house, eating healthy meals, staying active.

Ho hum.

Ordinary.

Just another ordinary day.

Ordinary days does not the inspiring writer make. Pain and grief paint such a deeper picture. More nuances, more details that people want to read about. More strength.

More strength? Really?

Expressing sadness, describing - living drama takes more strength than happiness?

Sadness takes more strength than happiness? Yes.

Writing about sadness takes more strength than happiness? No.

It's hard to try to share my life in words when I am happy. I feel as though I'm either boring people to death, or that I'm bragging. No one likes a bragger. People seem to connect and attach to others more when they share the hardships and negativity in their lives. Try to share some positive news? They look like they want to punch you in the face.

I don't want to brag. I don't want to report. I just want to be creative.