"Home is behind...

...the world ahead. And there are many paths to tread. Through shadow, to the edge of night, until the stars are all alight. Mist and shadow, cloud and shade. Hope shall fade, hope shall fade."

MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
-Thomas Merton



My biggest complaint to God is, "What am I supposed to be doing with my life?" Don't you have this big plan just for me and I'm supposed to be fufilling it? Can't you show me the whole map and not just the five steps before me right now? Please?

No. God can't do that. What if I said, well to heck with that plan I'm doing what I want to do. That sucks. What would happen then? Would the "big plan" ever be fulfilled? Maybe not. Maybe in a huge roundabout way it would. The point is I worry too much about what I'm supposed to be doing and where I'm supposed to be going rather than how I'm doing right now. What do I love right now? What fills me as a person right now? What parts of my life do I so enjoy? Beacuse God gave me talents (sometimes I feel I have too many to do them all justice and I do not say that to boast) and those talents you are supposed to be using to aid other people and fufill your destiny that God gave you.

I love to read, write, sing, play music, make things out of yarn and fabric, teach what I know, learn more about the world around me. I just worry about how to put all those together into something that will do and be what God wants me to be and not to mention make some money on the side doing what I love.
When I was a child I wanted to be a teacher and a rock star. Come to think about it, that isn't too far off now. Children tell amazing truths without realizing it.
Words have always held a magic for me. They mezmerize me in how they can be combined to evoke images, places, smells, people, things. They convey multiple meanings, they clarify and confuse. They are the second language of music.
Music is something that fills me on a soul level. I don't just listen to music I feel every note. It moves through me leaving me uplifted or sorrowed. Mystifyied, creative, lonely, happy, hopeful. I love music that makes me sigh.

I forget where the heck I was going with this. Perhaps something along the lines of; I don't know how to combine my loves. Something like that. Oh well. Another ramble that doesn't necessarily lead anywhere. The point however, is that it is out and down on "paper" if you will. Out of my head and my heart, available for pondering.

Knitting....

I have some projects that I need to take pictures of! The Master and Commander sweater is only lacking a sleeve and some seaming. Evan's Blanket won't be done by tomorrow (his birthday) but it's growing by leaps and bounds, even to the point of prompting Evan to knit some rows on it. Nothing much on the needles really, but there are some crochet things coming up. I bought a copy (finally!) of the Happy Hooker and am happily hooking away. I've got a blanket started and a lacy bolero. It seems that crochet lace and I get along just fine, whereas knit lace and I hate each other. Or I just hate trying to do knit lace. At any rate, I'm happy.
For sewing there's a little bag, a pillow and my first dress coming along swimmingly. I can't wait to wear it! I just needs a zipper and some finishing trimmage. I don't know what just yet, but it's looks just a smidge plain. It's cute though.

For the lack of pictures...

I so desperately wanted my camera this evening as I drove through West Seattle. The evening light had reached a quality that my family calls The Magic Hour, it's when all the colours are the most saturate, the richest, and most beautiful. Things are simply magical. I wanted to dye yarn in the colours of the ocean, clouds, and sky. Brilliant oranges and yellows mellowed by a calm lavender just made me sigh with the beauty of it all.
In other news, the Fairy Doll is coming along, with a dress idea from my design book:

Fairy Doll :Random Project

My aunt sent me a doll yesterday. It was a Christmas Elf, and while it was cute, something about the face spoke of Fairy potential. She sat on my windowsill all night until this afternoon when I began to strip her of the felt Christmas garb. It was hot glued and nasty work. But when I was done my work revealed such a delicate little face, almost eagerly gazing up into the heavens.



I like her very much, and I think that when she's done I'll like her even more.
Because I've never really done "dollmaking" before I'm documenting how I did/ am doing her hair. I have a big braid of my own hair from a past cutting. I selected several short locks, and for ease of attaching them to her head, I straightened the very curly hair.



I used an old pair of nylons and gave her the World's Smallest "do-rag" as a base to glue the sections of hair to. I could have glued them directly to her head, but I've simply chosen to use the "do-rag". My glue is good old wood glue, perhaps not the best choice, but that's what I've got. Next I select tiny sections of hair, gently rolling the cut ends to make the hairs form a brush like end.



Then I dipped it into the glue, wiping off the excess on the edge of the dish. To keep the amount of glue minimal, I squeezed the brushy-end gently until it stuck together and was slightly tacky.



Then I applied the lock VERY GENTLY to the "do-rag", smoothed it, and brushed a little more glue on top. It's not terribly pretty, but the extra glue ensures the sticking of the hair.

More tomorrow!

happyhappyhappyhappy!!!

I know the title isn't proper english, but it is an expression of how much glee I feel when I learned of two films that are coming.

There is another Narnia film coming, you can see spoilers (not too many) and read news here I am so excited! I keep wondering why they are doing Prince Caspian next, and I just realized why. Lucy and Edmund are in that one. Rather they continue on with the stories without Peter and Susan.(They're too old. :( )

The other film I am excited about is another book adaptation incidentally. The Golden Compass, by Phillip Pullman. THis is the most interesting site I've found yet. You can play with an alethiometer and look at fabulous pictures from the film.

Current Knitting

Perhaps the oldest knitting currently on the needles, this sweater is patterned after the Lieutenant's Jacket from Master and Commander. It has, by far, been the MOST annoying thing to knit first because it is my first sweater that I have designed (there fore working without a pattern) and secondly, because I have ripped this out something on the order of 5 or 6 times now. Maybe the yarn just doesn't want to be the "MAC" Sweater, as my brothers call it. Maybe it wants to be something else. I don't know. What I do know is that I'm going to knit this and it's going to fit, damnit! :)



In far less artsy pictures-
This is now a capelet. The rose coloured part was inspired by Teva Durham's Loop-d-Loop Cowl. Rather than follow the pattern, I used the amount of decreases to make the cowl. It was cute but it needed something more. The green part came from a sweater I was going to knit for a play. It didn't want to be a sweater either, has sat in my knitting basket for months, until blossoming into this capelet.



A hood from Handknit Holidays by Melanie Falik (?). It isn't so sure it wants to be a hood after all. But the pattern in lovely.



Lastly, a blanket for my brother. Yes, it's safety-highlighter orange. He likes bright orange. Oy vay. I can't say it's the greatest thing to knit as the colour can be hard on your eyes after a while. But he likes it, and that's the best part.

A haircut...

I love having curly hair, but there are times when I crumble and straighten it. It is during these times that I sometimes snip and trim a little, resulting in something completely cute when it's straight. I cringe to think of what my hair will look like when it's curly. This will be an interesting experiment.



I feel like Anne Hathaway! Hee hee.

Knitting update coming soon!

Tender Shepherd

I love babysitting. I think I've babysat for almost ten years now. I've had a couple little rotters, but they have taught me how to effectively deal with screaming children.
The munchkin I babysit right now can be hyper at times, but is a good child. It's interesting to me to watch them. To think about what my life will be when I have my children. I will read to them and sing silly songs with them. I will teach them to grow up strong and healthy in this sometimes crazy world. I will treasure all of their special moments probable much more than I treasure the special moments I've already had with children past.
I just put the munchkin to bed, read a book, and waited until the child fell asleep. Watching the sleeping child with the arms crossed above the head made me think of the song from Peter Pan.

Tender Shepherd, tender shepherd
Let me help you count your sheep.
One in the garden,
Two in the meadow,
Three in the nursery,
fast alseep, fast asleep.

Good Night!

I wonder why...

...the time between posts is so darn long? Perhaps because my internet connection wasn't so good. Well, what's been happening?
On the 14th western Washington experienced it's worst storm in many many years. Where I live we had gusts of wind upwards of 65 miles per hour and planes were grounded for hours at Sea-Tac International Airport. Most families in my neighbourhood didn't experience much to any damage to their houses or property which is thankful. I am sure in saying that my house experienced the worst damage in the block.
We were awake most, if not all of the night and were "blessed" with being able to watch two trees fall in our yard. The first was in the back of the house. We were watching it sway in the heavy gusts of wind, astonished at how far the invisible force pushed it from side to side when one time it didn't bounce back as it had before. There was a crack and the medium height pine toppled over the back fence. This caused damage only to the tree and the dirt around it. Nothing in our back yard (nor the adjacent yard!) suffered any damage.
With our hearts pumping a little faster we shuffled about our dark house listening to the shrieking, howling, horrible wind as it gusted and buffeted our fragile world.
It is times such as these when the fragility of life as I know it is made so apparent. I have no control over the weather, no control over what it does to what I can control. I am simply at it's mercy, and must huddle in whatever form of protection I can muster until it calms down and life slowly reverts to normal.
So, to continue. I was in the hallway upstairs doing something, perhaps coming back from shining a flashlight out the bathroom window to view (what little we could) the backyard and fallen tree when there came another crack-thump! This time from the front yard. My heart flooded with dread and foreboding as I rushed to the living room to find that the stately and exotic eucalyptus had completely eclipsed the view from our picture windows. We were suddenly awash in shock, wonder, fear, and thanks. Opening our front door yielded a face (and doorfull) of eucalyptus branches so my brothers and I ran to my room with the powerful flashlight. Bells that once hung above a shop door clanged in the sudden wind from outdoors as I opened my window to reveal the damage and the blessing. The eucalyptus had fallen, and in doing so crushed our Dodge Caravan and our Kia Sephia in one fell swoop. We giggled from fear as we turned to tell our mother that we were without cars, and went to wake our father.
Previous to this, my mother and I were discussing whether she should go outside and scoot the Kia up against the garage door. I vetoed the idea weighing that it would be nasty if she got whacked with a piece of eucalyptus bark in the process. In retrospect, the Kia might have survived if she'd moved it, but who could say the tree would have fallen in the same place?
My brothers and I spent the rest of the night in the basement tending the fire and sleeping fitfully. Each time a gust of wind buffeted the house I was sure yet another tree would fall and this time come crashing down into our house. It was awful.

Dawn was a long, long time in coming and we passed the time talking, counting out how long it was until light, and napping. Finally there was light enough to see, and I was able to view just how badly our cars were crushed. They were kaput, zip, finito. As the rest of my family slept, I surveyed the backyard tree. It had broken at the point where it would have rested on the fence, thus preventing breaking the fence. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the worried faces of our neighbours, their hands laden with a silver carafe of coffee.
Fortified for the morning with caffeine, my father, brother and I set about cutting our way out to the world. Opening the front door was like a scene from the film, Jumanji, in short, a jungle lay between us and the street. A eucalyptus jungle. It was beautiful and extremely slippery.
We set to the branches with a hand saw and pruning shears, slowly making a tunnel to the street. Underneath the fallen tree was a new magical world just begging to be explored and conquered.
You may be thinking, 'Just a minute, you lost both your cars to this tree and you still view it as a thing of wonder and beauty?' Let me put it this way,if the tree had hit the house, it would have taken out my bedroom, my brother's bedroom, our front door and part of the living room. Probably seriously compromised the building's stability and evicted us at 1 in the morning. I am glad it hit the cars and not the house. I may not be here had it hit the house as I was down the hall near my room. So I take a positive mental attitude and view what happened as God using a bad situation to bless us with many good ones.

So I have passed this Christmas in a very thankful state of mind. All I want are two new (used) cars for my family, I didn't care about what I got. Only that we were taken care of.

Summer...

I cannot begin to express my delight in Summer. It is a time of adventuring, reading, water, and general Huckleberry-finn and Tom Sawyer madness.
How ever I find myself more and more drifting towards being an adult in the summer time. I've got no job, and plenty of time on my hands. That drives me crazy, or at least a part of me. The other part of me embraces the freedom under the reasoning that it provides plenty of time for making jewellry, Moogles, Sewing, Knitting, Crocheting. I find that I also work better when I'm around other people also working regardless of the fact that we may be working on completely different things. It's the creation of those things I think, that stimulates me. Inspires me.

MAH! "I hate wait." -Inigo

I applied for a voulenteer crew position on the brig the Lady Washington, and after three weeks of waiting, I'm going a little crazy. One would think they would contact you if they needed more information/etc. But not a word. Maybe they are like my theatre, so busy/understaffed it takes a while to get to little things like, voulenteer applications. Oh well. Paitence is a good thing to practice. Yet, I wouldn't mind even a "we're a little busy, but we'll get to you before you want to go so you can go this summer." kind of e-mail.

C'est tant pis pour moi! Mais, c'est la vie!

Bientot!

La vie Boheme

Recently I've been mulling over the idea of why the "Underworld" is so tantalizing, so facinating. As a christian, you aren't allowed to have sex before marriage, don't swear, don't do this, don't do that, obey the 10 commandments.
It is all about what you put into your mind. When I put, oh I dunno, Avril Lavigne in your head all the time I end up feeling twice as sad and depressed as when I pressed the play button. However, when I put christian music, or music with hope in it's message, I feel uplifted and less depressed. Often I am tempted to get my ear cartilidge pierced, get a tattoo, live like a demi-bohemian. Make out, say what I want, etc. etc. etc.
The point is this; living like a bohemian is to celebrate chaos. It is to ignore the small voice of the Holy Spirit, which, I believe lives in everybody. The bohemians just don't listen to it. That's why they celebrate chaos, rather than cosmos. They stand "naked" to the world, perhaps wearing a chulla, screaming the worst kinds of profanity which aren't even eloquent. They are the bohemians. I have dipped my fingers into that world, tasted it's bitter-sweet flavor. Like chocolate and tobacco. Red wine. Old red wine. And yet, it leaves me wanting, lacking, empty and alone. With little or nothing but the next good time to celebrate rather than perservere through the bad times with the hope of tomorrow. Tomorrow is ALWAYS better. Always. Being bohemian doesn't fufill who I am and what I want to say.
I want to speak with intellect, with people who think. I want my art to reflect what I see in the world, what I think of the world, and who I am. Or who I quest to be.
I want to be a woman of confidence, of intelligence in a world of chaos. I want to be cosmos. I am an artist, I can't deny that. I believe in being just a little crazy, rather eccentric, because it lends variety to life. It makes each day interesting.
You don't have to know what you're making, just as long as it turns out. You don't have to know, just be willing to quest, and change.
Confidence is a must, though not arrogance.
Self-respect is a must, though not piety.
Tolerance is a must, though not to the point of allowing the world to trample you.
Questioning and listening to your mentors are musts as well.
Being true to you is vital, although weigh well what the heart says with what the head says.

Boy at the Bus Stop

The sweet faced boy's hands are strong
sharply filed nails claw the ends of fingers
which, move surprisingly gently
Eyes limned thickly with black
a vertical spike rifts the left one.

Like painted tears on a carnival clown
Why is he so sad?
A black handcuff encircles his left wrist
while a cross graces
the right-hand toe of his Converse All-Stars
That is the one visible thing we have in common,
except his are high-tops and
mine are not.

3. 8.06

The world this morning was like a Myiazaki film.
Fog blanketed the horizion, muffling most sounds. Subduing people.
Some piece of machinery beat a couplet tattoo. Sounding like a wooden mallet on a slab of steel. It remined me of Iron Town, guards hearalding the arrival of Lady Eboshi and her convoy. Whereas that felt warm, welcoming, bustling; to day felt like it was disjointed, aloof.

Cher Coeur

Listen to the rain
feathers falling
peace descending

Listen to the rain
Quietly blanketing
the world in tones of grey

Listen to the rain
we walked, under my umbrella
I listened to the rain

You walked away
under my umbrella
I listened to the rain

You went somewhere
I cannot let myself go
I listened to my rain

Listen to the rain, healing, soothing.
Listen to the tears I cried, healing, moving
forward
without you.

You've found me naked Dearheart. You've done things; I let you do them. Now I sit, ensconsed in my place of solitude, in a pool of tears, reflecting on what I have done and what I will do.
My soul is as sad as my hair is blue. Water is the best place for thinking. For reflecting on the past and scrying the future. My mind is as rippled as my reflection. Please forgive me.
Please set me free.
Please love me.
Please don't ever leave me.
S'il vous-plait?

Four pictures.

I am dark and terrible. Consumed by visions of ghosts, tormented by the night. By people. By Men. The one over my left shoulder looks like Dearheart. I hide my eyes, trying not to see the deamon, but crying all the same. See the blood-spatter tears on my throat?
I wear black lace, raven feathers, silent silk.
My eyes are ugly, my hands are hideous. I am cursed with womanhood and beauty.
Run away you men. Here stands nothing but pain and trouble. A festering woman who is tortured by ghosts of her past.

Quote

People are NEVER whom they, at first, seem to be.
-A. Curtiss

Test...

The true test of any college student, to prove if you have properly assimilated into life on campus is if you can navigate the endless throng of humanity with a plate of food or a cup of hot beverage.

Journal Page

Stagnation is death

My heart bleeds thorns, razor blades of pain.

Je suis le cadeau que ne personne merite.