mousewords

“The Bucket List.”

It’s a movie about two men who are given one year to live–one rich, alone, and soured on life; one poor, surrounded by family, but in possession of unfulfilled dreams. This man makes a list of things he wants to do before he “kicks the bucket” (hence the title); and to his surprise, the rich man offers to fund the adventure. So the two set out across the world to fulfill the dreams on the Bucket List.

I haven’t seen the movie (neither have many people across the world yet, so I won’t give away any spoilers!)–I hadn’t even heard of it. So when Jeff O’ Hara tagged me to write a Bucket List for 2008, the mental image I got was of all the dreams I’ve been carrying around in a bucket. Much like carrying water in a bucket, it’s truly a valuable commodity; but unless you pour it out where it’s needed, it does no good. After too long it will even turn stale or stagnant, useless for any beneficial purpose.

So what am I carrying around in a bucket? What dreams or goals do I want to achieve in 2008? Awesome thought–when you write something down, you commit to it. You can no longer avoid it, in any good conscience.

So–deep breath–here we go; mousewords’ Bucket List for 2008:

–Finish writing my mystery novel.

–Publish my mystery novel. (Those are two separate things.)

–Get many articles published.

–Move to a new location.

–Meet lots of online friends in person.

–Reach Power Seller status with my art sales on eBay

–Read the CSS books I have and actually learn it well

–Travel, for book promotion and for fun

…At least.

And I’d like to ask the same question of Melinda, Warren S., Bettina, Teeg, Akela, Belinda, Aaron, and Della. What dreams are you carrying around in a bucket?

Just after I wrote my list, I received an email from a new friend, who has just returned from the trip of a lifetime. I’m more inspired than ever now. I welcome you to visit Julie Anna’s blog and see if you feel the same.

Thinking of it as a Bucket List gives me a sense of urgency; I do want to achieve these things, so I had better hurry.

The last thing I want to do is kick the bucket when it’s full.

Tags: Inspiration, Internet, Musings, Personal, Writing by mousewords
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@Kellyd has asked for details on the stained glass window I designed, so here they are!

Time: 1996. Place: Tinley Park, Illinois. St. George Catholic Church was doing a renovation, which would include a new, 10-foot-tall stained glass window in the children’s area. My parents donated two windows–the children’s window and a crescent-shaped etched glass window. I was picked to do the design for the etched glass window (one of my first public speaking experiences, giving that presentation to the committee…nervous? Naaaahhhh….) and chose to donate my services.

The window was to depict Christ standing with His arms outstreched, welcoming the viewer. How to draw the Lord? That was a challenge, an awesome one. We always think of Him as a “carpenter.” I did some research, and discovered that the original Greek word we translate as “carpenter” was “tekton”–a term which describes a person who is not only a craftsman, but a scholar, an architect, a construction engineer. A tekton would do more than work with wood; he would design houses and temples, hew the stone, cut the trees, cart them to the site, and build from his design. Emaciated figures from iconic representations were entirely inaccurate. A tekton would be pretty buff…for lack of a better term.

Keeping this in mind, I created a drawing that I hoped was as realistic as possible–feeling my inadequacies every step of the way. But I drew strong hands and muscular arms–a Savior needs to be strong. I tried to give Him a lean, intelligent face; and my Mom requested a bit of a smile, since the Lord of the Bible stories always had a sense of humor. Once I had the drawing as right as I could make it…

I erased it.

Sad part of graphic design, it wasn’t possible to translate the details of a pencil drawing into etched glass, so I simplified it as much as I could while still keeping the impression I hoped to capture. The drawing was full-size, four feet high. (Apologies for the scanned photographs–poor quality)

Here is the final result of the window:

At least they kept my design for the hands…Well, moving right along.

Some time later, when the design for the children’s window encountered some problems, the church asked me to do that one, also.

The extent of my stained glass design experience was drawing fan artwork based on Disney’s incredible designs for “Beauty and the Beast”; but I was up for the challenge. I undertook the research project into the window–and for us, this was pre-internet, so it was like the dark ages. Like…I had to read books and things.

I also studied every stained glass window I could lay eyes on. I studied the construction as well as the design–the placement of rebars, the capabilities of detail. I dove into my drawing head-first, figuring that what the company needed from me was a basic design. I thought to myself, their engineers will fix the rebars later. But of course, I still did my best to make them as close to accurate as possible, working from the designs of the other windows in the church, among other resources.

The window was to depict Jesus and the children; my parents had ideas on what they wanted, but left the rest up to me. I thought back to my childhood–how, during church services, I would spend most of my time staring at the beautiful colors of the windows, while the sermon blended into words in the background. I thought to myself, a child may not be listening to the message of salvation in the sermon; so let’s see if he can find it in the window. I put myself into my childhood, and tried to depict a picture of Jesus as the Bible describes. Not distant and iconic–warm, friendly, caring, strong. Someone a child would want to be close to.

Here is the final result–ten feet high, my large calling card:

Being a writer, I also wanted to tell a story in the window. The service, after all, lasts about an hour, and colors can only hold so much attention. So I put as many curious details into the design as I could, so a child could imagine a story about the scene. There are also different ages, so that any child can relate. One youngster is playing in the sand at Christ’s feet; the littlest one is safe in His arms, playing with His hair, as babies do. The teenager has his hand on the Lord’s shoulder; a younger boy is sitting nearby, listening; a young girl is giving Him a hug.

Shortly after I completed my design, I moved out of state. I never saw the completed windows until ten years later.

When I walked into the church and saw that towering window aglow with afternoon light, it was unreal. That was my drawing. I could see my hand in the style–I knew the way my fingers turned, made lines. I was looking at a representation of something very personal to me–my art. I wondered if that’s at all similar to having children–to look into another face and find signs of yourself. The window company had basically just photocopied my design–rebars and all. They used my lines to the exact detail, and it actually WORKED. It hadn’t collapsed. Oh, my. The edification…

Even though I had done my research, I wasn’t aware of the full capabilities of stained glass. So when I drew the faces, I made them very abstract, not realizing that details could be painted directly on the glass. The company used my drawing as an outline, and had one of their artists paint details into the features. This artist did an amazing job.

So that’s the story. My calling card. Thrilling in its inspiration to me. A bit too big for a business card holder, however…

Tags: Art, Faith, Family, Fashion and Beauty, Inspiration, Personal by mousewords
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I’ve been blog-tagged!

My good friend Melanie has tagged me to share 5 facts about myself on my blog, and to tag five other people to do the same!

Here are the rules:
1. Link to your tagger and post these rules on your blog. 2. Share 5 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird. 3. Tag 5 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs. 4. Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

~

So here goes: 5 facts about me:

1.I have been thrown from a horse.

2.I survived carbon monoxide poisoning

3.I can do the Upward Bow pose in Yoga

4. I’ve designed a 10-foot-tall stained glass window in a church

5. I know a huge amount of Disney Trivia

And I tag Susan, Sean, Kelly, Stacy, and Mick!

Tags: Friends, Personal by mousewords
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I have a lot of ideas. A plethora of them.

Sometimes these ideas cram together in my noggin until I’m certain they’ll be pouring out my ears. Most often it’s “good” ideas–story plots, art projects, web design plans, goals, wants, dreams, hopes, desires. Things I can do and be and say.

But there are stressful ideas, too–thoughts, really. The time frame I have in which to complete these projects. The magnitude of work that’s involved with them. The limitations of the resources I have at hand. My own lack of experience in certain matters.

What often winds up happening is that the overload of ideas and mounting stress cause me to clutch–I get stuck between having a ton of things to do, but not knowing how to do them all. The ideas and energy build up inside me, while I stand immobile. Imagine filling a pressure cooker with more pressure than it can handle–at some point, something’s gotta give.

Facing one of these moments yesterday, I decided to go for a nice long walk. Burn off some of that energy, clear my thinking. But I was delayed until it was too dark to walk very far; so, instead, I sprinted up and down the block.

Probably looks strange to passing motorists to see someone in jeans and a windbreaker running back and forth as if there were monsters on her heels, but I’ve long since given up worrying about looking strange.

As I ran, I was still thinking. The energy can be burned away, but the ideas remain. Tons and tons of thoughts, pouring through my mind. I puzzled over them, wondering to myself, How can I get all these things done? How can I do what I need to do?

And then I looked up in mid-sprint, and saw a road sign. It read:

“NO PARKING ANY TIME. BEGIN.”

Hit me like a blast of cold air. Keep running, keep moving. Let the energy and ideas pour out together. Just begin. Dive in and start working.

And don’t stop running.

You’ll get where you want to go.

It felt good to run; felt good to have the fresh air. I could have kept moving back and forth, back and forth, till I collapsed from exhaustion. But that’s the thing about running–you won’t get anywhere unless you have a destination in mind, a purpose. If you’re not running toward something specific, you’re merely burning energy.

So I plied my feet back toward the house. Back to my office room, back to my ideas. And I’m simply digging in.

No parking at any time.

Begin.

Tags: Health, Inspiration, Journal, Musings, Personal, Sports, Writing by mousewords
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Night deepens. The world sleeps in quietude. Balmy air moves softly–carries the gentle sound of waves touching the shore somewhere beyond.

Humanity stands in the silence, and reaches outward. Soul yearning for what is as deep and real without as what is within. Yearning for purpose, explanation, identity.

Eyes are drawn to the night sky.

The panoply of sky answers in return.

The Pleiades sparkle with ephemeral grace. Sisters, blue diamond jewels on black velvet. A string of precious gems, the garland of queens. Glowing with the ageless wisdom of forever, the peace of eternity. Quiet eyes shining bright with secrets unknown. Hung in the sky as a reminder of the innate beauty of femininity; the inheritance of royalty as daughters of Creation’s King. Beauty to be worn with exultation and fearless joy. Placed in the universe to shine, to glow from the light within. A priceless gift to be treasured by any to whom it is entrusted.

Orion watches over them in the towering night sky. Heroic symbol of manhood, kinetic with action, purest depiction of strength. A very Son of God. The imprint of the Creator is his form. The most beautiful mysteries of the universe dwell within him, shine from him. Expressing hidden fathoms of knowledge, awaiting discovery. His shape spreads across the panoply of sky like that of a man mountain. Overwhelming beside the delicacy of the string of sisters. Yet armed as protector. Strength that rules the night; nobility and kingship that evoke admiration. Honor that saves.

Painted into the canvas of the night by the hand of God. Knowing that yearning within the human soul would draw the eyes upward. Aeons before the question was asked, God answered with stars. Here is the identity of humanity. Grace and strength. Beauty and mystery. Wisdom and knowledge. Thou art made from the stuff of stars. See thy face in the rapture of the heavens, and know that it was painted by the hand that ignited suns at time’s birth.

Know that you are holy.

And your inheritance is as the sons and daughters of Heaven’s King.

Tags: Faith, Fashion and Beauty, Inspiration, Love, Musings by mousewords
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I’ve had a lot going on in my life, thoughts, and goals just over the past couple of weeks. Not much would show on the surface—but between my ears and behind my eyes, the world is a different place. Maybe because I’m different inside. I know it’s been building for some months now—like the Lord is putting together the puzzle pieces of my life, one day at a time.

This is something I’ve been hoping for, aiming towards, for most of my life. I had an epiphany at age 17, suddenly knew what I wanted to do with my career and life, and started working towards that. A few years (ahem, be polite, don’t run over to my About page) and several setbacks later, I had not progressed very far past those goals. Make that “visibly.” Between the ears and behind the eyes, the world was quite different. But looking at my life from the outside, at a casual glance, not much of that showed through.

For the majority of my young adult years, I lived most of my life inside my head, between my ears, and within a few walls. I was a homeschooled highschooler (personal choice). When I graduated, I was tested at a college level, so I chose to postpone college and dive into the dreams I couldn’t wait to dig at. I spent the next four years living at home with my family, attending business seminars, reading voraciously, and pursuing an advanced art education through studying others’ works and writings. In other words, I homeschooled myself through college, after all.

In the meantime, I was writing. Writing fiction novels and graphic novel scripts. I was drawing, drawing like crazy throughout my days. Doing character design for my graphic novel series, studying comic book publishers so I would know the one I wanted to plug it to. I had my sights set on the independents, because keeping my rights was important to me–I wasn’t writing for the present, I was building the foundation of a future. So I could wait a little, sacrificing present income opportunities in order to invest in a bigger future. For that “income,” I started my own Amway business and did freelance artwork, to tide me over while I wrote. How did that go? Well, let me just say I’m grateful my family let me live at home.

Some of my lack of success was caused by the fact that I was incredibly shy and introverted, trying to build a career in very extroverted fields. But I had that dream—I thrived on inspiration, and let it fuel me forward, even when the shyness made it almost painful to do so. As I look back now on the person I was then, I wonder if I could have made it work, despite my weaknesses? But at the time, I didn’t get the chance.

During my teens and early twenties, my family and I spent ten years as caregivers for my grandparents. My grandmother had dementia, and eventually forgot who we were. My grandfather died unexpectedly from a sudden onset of cancer. There were other hard situations we were overcoming as a family then, too. I learned many things, and grew a lot between the ears, behind the eyes, in those years—things that would never show up in my resume or bank account. They delayed my dreams. But they made me stronger, bolder. Partially because, once you’ve been hurt in certain ways, you stop being afraid of certain things. You lose some sense of self-preservation…you kind of don’t care what happens to you. So you get braver, and bolder.

I moved on with my family (my choice, turned down a graphic design job to do it). I looked at life as a new opportunity—I felt set free from the hurts of the past, and felt I could finally begin achieving my goals for the future. But anyone who thinks they can emerge from an emotionally abusive situation and hit the ground running is deluding themselves. It took a month-long bout with pneumonia and a dance with a nervous breakdown to teach me that.

And yet…I came away from those days, and emerged into a patch of brighter light. Suddenly I was free to return to my dream, and I did, with my whole heart. Back to the writing, back to the drawing. Back to the quibbling freelance work to bring in a bit of income while I lived with my patient family, too; but back to filling my days with creativity and excitement, and plans for a big future.

Enter carbon monoxide poisoning.

This was a setback that not only invaded its presence upon my goal plan, and delayed my dreams yet again; this monster literally stripped me of the ability to achieve my dreams. I forgot my stories. I lost my words. My hands forgot their skill and learned a new weakness, a new tremor that would forever mar my drawing. I was one year away from publishing a fiction novel and was beginning to draw the final draft of a graphic novel when I had to stop, and teach myself how to write and draw all over again.

Starting all over, yet again. When obstacles keep blocking your pathway, over and over, and you have to stop, and start, and stop again, you have a tendency to get tired. When you keep falling face-first into the mud, it gets very hard to see the way ahead. Dreams and faith and hope will carry you far, through many hard times…but Discouragement can be a towering monster. It can overshadow everything. When things get so very dark, the light seems to fade away, and you begin to feel that the darkness is all there is, all there ever will be anymore.

Yet the light is still there—the light of dreams, and hope, and faith. It’s just being obscured for the time being. Somehow, someway, you have to climb up out of the mire and walk past that beast of Discouragement. It’s the only way to see light again. Oh, it tries to walk with you, mark my words—does its very best to keep blocking the light. For me, I actually began doubting the dreams I had held for so many years. I began to doubt the worth of what was between my ears, behind my eyes. And that’s a tough situation, because that was all that I had left in me. Without the dreams? To my eyes, if the dreams weren’t real, then I was nothing.

Enter God.

Not that He wasn’t there the whole time. Until I stand before Him at the end of this life, I probably will not understand the whole meaning behind everything that is in my past. I see glimmers, I get a few things; but some of the “whys” escape me. Somehow I’ve managed to cling to faith through it all. But then again I wonder—is it really so hard to cling to One who is gripping you in an embrace that will never let you go? He’s been there with me the whole time. And now, just when I felt like I couldn’t pick my face up out of the mud one more time, and would lie there and drown in darkness…it’s as if He’s saying, “Let’s turn the lights on.”

I can’t explain it. I don’t understand it. Something has changed. Maybe it’s me. Yes, I’ve been working…imagine trying to scale a sheer mountainside by only using your fingernails. Yeah, that’s how I’ve been working the past couple years. So yes, I have all those years of work that must have been building to something. But they never led anywhere, to my thinking.

Until now. Something has changed. Something is different. Between my ears, behind my eyes, it’s been a long journey. It’s been…violating. It doesn’t feel like there’s much of anything left of me inside…just numbness, blankness, tears. Tears that flow easily at times. And fear…the inheritance of so many years of living life in the shadow. Fear that crouches and waits for the merest weakness to show within me…so that it can snatch my new life away from me. And fear upon fear, I am afraid that it has the power to do so.

But then I realize…there are arms around me. Strong, mighty, powerful arms. There is a vengeful love washing over me, shielding me, forgiving me the weaknesses that make me despise myself. Someone is holding me fiercely, saying the He is carrying me on through. Past the mire that threatens to envelop and smother me. Past the dark beast that wants to claim me. Carrying me forward to that beautiful light, which has been there waiting for me all along. He’s taking the emptiness between my ears, behind my eyes, and filling it with glorious things that I never dared to dream of, and can hardly comprehend. The dreams of my future.

And something is telling me that my future, at very long last, is here.

I’m sorry for the long blog post…but I think I’m moving forward on a new journey. And I must have needed to travel light.

Tags: Carbon Monoxide Awareness, Comics, Faith, Family, Health, Inspiration, Journal, Love, Musings, News, Personal, Women, Writing by mousewords
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Blog renovation is in progress, stand by! New theme and header art are in place, but I’m going through my pages to harmonize everything. Please forgive broken links and wiggy text formatting for a bit.

Brushing up my writing as we delve into the new year, too, so some fresh content will be ready and raring to go! And let’s see if I can come up with something wonderful to put in “The Latest” tab…no exciting news since December 4th is really too pathetic…
:-)

Happy New Year!

Tags: Internet, Journal, News, Personal, Writing by mousewords
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