Writing Prompt - Genuphobia (fear of knees or kneeling)

I decided to try another writing prompt.  Enjoy!

Create a character that has an unusual phobia. Write a scene that causes that character to face his fear.

Alice Montgomery was a genuphobe.  She could not remember when her fear of knees first started.  There was not a traumatic event that she could remember.  She grew up in a normal, middle-class, Catholic family.  As her fear progressed she had to leave the Catholic Church because it required too much kneeling and she could not handle such a stressful situation.  Her parents were disappointed but they understood. 

Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery had always been perplexed by their daughter’s strange fear.  When she was a little girl, Alice would cry and shake hysterically if she fell and scratched her knee but she never let them care for or bandage her injury.  Eventually she stopped riding her bike and playing basketball in the driveway to avoid such injuries.  As a joke, her older brother, Malcolm, would sometimes put his knee pads on her bed.  Alice would become panic-stricken and refused to sleep in her own bed for weeks.  Her parents just chalked it up to a phase and didn’t pay it much mind.

When Alice was 13 years old, her fear had grown increasingly worse.  Her friends all joined the middle school volleyball team but Alice refused because of the knee pads and increased chance of scraping her knees.  Her English teacher was the girls’ soccer coach and tried to encourage Alice to join the team but Alice declined.  She knew that knee injuries were common in soccer.  She even refused to watch the World Cup with her family. 

One day in science class, Alice had been sitting at her desk diligently working on an assignment when the bell rang, startling her.  Alice jumped and hit her right knee on the cross bar that connected the desk to the chair.  For anyone else this would not have been a big deal but for Alice, it was terrifying.  She jumped out of her seat and began hyperventilating until she passed out.  When she woke up, she was lying on a cot in the school nurse’s office and the nurse had an ice pack on her bruised knee.  Alice screamed and kicked her leg up in the air to remove the ice pack, kicking the nurse in the nose and breaking it.  For months afterwards kids would tease her in the hallways and some went as far as to put knee pads in her locker just to watch her go to pieces.  Alice became constantly anxious and nervous both at school and at home.  Her teachers had to bring in tables that were not attached to the chairs because Alice refused to sit in the desks that everyone else used.

Her parents became concerned that Alice’s fear was not a phase and that their little girl might, in fact, be crazy.  Week after week they drove Alice to different pediatric offices hoping to find an answer.  Most of the doctors brushed it off as a childhood phase and refused to listen further.  A couple doctors gave her different medicines to try and treat the symptoms caused by her fear.  Most of those medicines made Alice very sleepy and sluggish.  Her grades started to suffer because she was falling asleep in class so often.  Eventually her parents gave up, as they could not find anyone who could help their paranoid daughter.  Alice stopped taking the medicine and her parents stopped taking her to doctors.  They just decided it was Alice being Alice and there was nothing they could do to help their daughter.

Throughout the rest of her teen years, Alice became good at avoidance.  Anything she thought would cause any contact with her knees she avoided.  She never wore pants, instead, chose to wear short skirts and shorts year round.  She stopped going to church.  She even refused to get her driver’s license because the steering wheel sat too close to her knees.  Alice did not have any friends and she was alone most of the time.  She spent most of her free time writing stories that took place in magical lands where no one had knees.  Her parents and brother grew increasingly concerned about her future and what would become of their peculiar Alice.

Alice went on to college to study writing.  She wanted to be a novelist so she could stay in her little protected world.  She wrote and sold her first story during her senior year.  The book was about a dancer who had her knees removed leading to a spectacular dancing career.  Alice’s book sold enough copies to sustain her for several years after graduation, during which time, she wrote several other books.  She was successful but was growing increasingly lonely. 

Alice went to dinner at her parents’ house every Sunday with her brother.  Malcolm was in college on a basketball scholarship and was the apple of their parents’ eye.  One particular Sunday, Malcolm brought home a friend from school.  His friend’s name was Thomas and Alice was immediately attracted to him.  She had closed herself off from people for so long that she had forgotten how nice a connection could feel.  Thomas appeared to be attracted to Alice as well.  Throughout dinner Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery doted on Malcolm, as usual.  Of course, Malcolm enjoyed the attention and spent most of the meal talking about his basketball games and how he was the star of the team.  Alice and Thomas stole shy glances at one another throughout dinner when they thought no one was looking.

At the end of the evening, Alice was in the kitchen washing dishes while the rest of her family and Thomas were in the family room watching a DVD of Malcolm’s most recent game.  While she was drying the dishes, Thomas slipped into the kitchen.

“Alice, I was wondering if you would like to grab a coffee with me later this evening,” Thomas said.

Startled by his presence, Alice jumped slightly but agreed, “That sounds lovely.  There is a coffee shop on Main Street.  I can meet you there at 9:00.”  Thomas smiled and then snuck back into the family room while Alice finished putting away the dishes.

That evening Alice and Thomas sat in the coffee shop talking until it closed.  Then they moved to Thomas’ car and talked some more.  As Thomas drove Alice home, she asked him some questions.

“Thomas, you didn’t tell me.  How did you meet my brother?”

“Well,” Thomas started, “I am studying to be an orthopedic surgeon so I have been shadowing the team’s doctor and that means attending practices and games.”

“Why would you need to shadow the basketball team’s doctor?” Alice inquired.

“I’m hoping to go on to work with players in the NBA and maybe some college players.  I plan to specialize in knee injuries,” Thomas answered. 

Alice froze.  They were five minutes from her house and she felt her heart start to beat faster and her breath quickened. 

“Alice, what’s wrong?” Thomas was concerned by the sudden silence.  Alice did not respond.  “Alice?” Thomas slowed down the car and pulled over to the side of the street.  Alice immediately jumped out of the car and started to run.

“Alice!” Thomas yelled chasing her down the street.  He was bewildered by this sudden change in his date.  “Please wait!  Please talk to me!”

Alice slowed down but not because Thomas asked.  It was dark and she knew that running increased her chances of tripping and scraping her knees.  She was breathing hard and could barely get any words out, “Please….take…me…to…my parents” and then she fainted.

When she awoke, she was lying in her old bed at her parents’ house and her mom was sitting next to her, worried.

“Honey, are you ok now?” Her mother asked and Alice shook her head.

“Where’s Thomas?” Alice asked, already knowing the answer. 

“He went home dear,” her mother said, “he was very worried about you and we explained your history.  I told him there was nothing else he could do here and to just go on home.  Then he left.”  Alice was not shocked that he left but she was surprised that instead of feeling relieved at avoiding him she, instead, felt sad.  Her mother sensed her sadness and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

“He left you a note, Alice,” her mother said.  “I wasn’t going to give it to you but your dad said I should.”  Mrs. Montgomery handed Alice the letter and then left the room.

Alone, Alice opened the paper with her hands shaking. 

Dear Alice,
I have never met someone I felt so connected to in such a short period of time.  I know that you suffer from genuphobia.  Please don’t let that keep us apart.  I know we can work through it together.  Please let me help you.  I will be waiting tomorrow night at the fountain in front of city hall.  If you want to be with me, please show up at 7:30.  I will be waiting for you.
Love,
Thomas

            Alice clutched the letter to her chest filled with so much emotion.  She knew she had felt that connection too.  She knew what she had to do. 

            The next night at 7:30, Thomas paced back and forth in front of the fountain.  He had not slept the night before; worried that Alice may not come.  He checked his watch every minute that passed 7:30.  He was willing to wait here all night if it meant seeing her again.  Finally at 8:15, he saw Alice walking up the street.  His heart leaped into his throat.  She’s here.  She feels this too, he thought.

            Alice approached the cross walk, the only thing separating her from Thomas.  He smiled and she blushed.  He could hardly keep himself from running to her but he did not want to appear too eager.  Alice started across the street and then stopped.  Thomas felt as if the whole world stopped in that moment, even the breeze that was whistling between the trees paused.  Alice looked down and pulled a piece of paper from her purse.  She slowly folded it length wise and then folded again.  When she was done, Thomas could see she had folded a paper airplane.  Alice held it up and threw the plane.  Without the breeze blowing, it glided swiftly towards Thomas and he caught it, his heart beating a mile a minute.  Thomas unfolded the paper and read.

Dearest Thomas,
I felt that connection too.  I have never connected with another human being the way I did with you.  My heart is filled with emotion.  This feels like something that only happens in the movies.
However, this cannot be.  I will never be able to look at you without seeing my greatest fear.  I will never be able to let you touch me without knowing where your hand has been.  This breaks my heart but this cannot go on any further.
I am sorry.
Love,
Alice

             Heartbroken, Thomas stared at the page for a minute.  No, he thought, I know we can work this out.  He looked up to plead his case but Alice was gone.  It was as if she had vanished.  His heart sunk.  Alice chose fear over love.  It did not matter what he said or did, he would only be a giant knee to her. 

Writing Prompt - The Holiday Party

I recently discovered a great online resource for writers.  The website www.writersdigest.com is an excellent resource for any one interested in writing.  I stumbled upon a list of writing prompts and decided to try one out tonight.  Basically they give you a brief synapsis to get you started and then you write from that.  It's helpful to get your creativity flowing and get some additional writing practice.  Hope you enjoy my little experiment.

The prompt:  After drinking a few too many eggnogs at your annual holiday party, you wake up the next morning realizing you did some things you now regret. Write an e-mail to your boss that will ensure you still get a raise next year.

Dear Ms. Jones,

As I sit here recovering from what I can only assume was a severe case of behavior-altering food poisoning, I decided to write you this letter to apologize for Saturday night.  The work that you put in to create such a lovely and memorable holiday party for our group is much appreciated.  My husband and I had a delightful time.

When we first arrived, I hope you can forgive me for brushing past you to get in line at the bar.  Out of concern for my fellow coworkers (and one day maybe my subordinates), I wanted to make sure the bar and its bartender were of the utmost quality.  I did not realize at the time that the bartender was your boyfriend when I dropped my keys three times forcing him to bend over in front of me.  Had I known that he had volunteered out of the kindness of his heart, I would not have smacked his bottom quite so hard nor would I have instructed him to shake what his mother gave to him.  I am certain that his mother (God rest her soul) was a lovely woman.  Hopefully you were able to see my assertive nature and how well I am able to motivate people.

I know that family is important to you so I hope that you were able to view firsthand the commitment shared between my husband and I.  The multiple shots of tequila we drank encouraged my husband to become quite amorous.  He enjoyed the conversation you and I were having so much that he felt it necessary to show his appreciation.  Our company often encourages diversity and embracing different cultures.  I don’t want to brag but I do study different cultures in order to better myself.  In some cultures it is a sign of great respect when a man “motorboats” a woman in a public place.  My husband felt very drawn to the point you made about helping the homeless on Thanksgiving and he wanted to express his appreciation.  After I stopped cheering and laughing, I hope that you took notice of the way I conveyed constructive criticism.  Next time I assure you my husband will not leave as much saliva on your sweater.  I plan to follow up with him to confirm my instructions are followed.

I think I can speak for everyone in attendance when I say that the karaoke machine was a great idea.  It was such fun to see everyone singing their favorite tunes and dancing with the group.  Being a team player, my choice of song was meant to be a team building opportunity.  I thought the team would get a kick out of singing along to the uncensored 2 Live Crew medley I created at home.  I do not believe the song choice itself was to blame for the fight though.  I don’t think our Human Resources Manager was a fan of the interpretive dance I performed on her husband’s lap.  I did try to make it clear to her that her husband seemed to enjoy it.  She did not seem to be receptive to my suggestion about removing the company’s policy manual from her rear end in order to please her husband better.  I always thought that the Human Resources department was interested in helping people improve but I guess I was wrong.  I think that you will be pleased though that I was able to go through the proper channels in HR to diffuse a volatile situation.  I also think that I displayed good self-control when I stopped myself from punching her in the face a fourth time. 

It was very kind of you to provide escorts to help us to our car.  I think it speaks highly of our company that the local police officers are willing to provide services at our holiday parties.  I did want to make sure and let you know that some money will need to come out of our budget to pay for one of the officer’s dry cleaning bill.  The food poisoning really kicked in after my eighth whiskey and I was violently ill.  I am so glad to hear that no one else in the department drank the whiskey that night (or at least I assume that since no one else seemed as sick as I was).  Next year we may want to buy a different brand of whiskey to avoid this situation.  I think you will find that I am able to discover areas needing improvement and am quick to offer a solution. 

Again, I apologize if my illness on Saturday caused you any distress.  Looking back, I should have continued drinking tequila after my sixth shot instead of switching to whiskey but we live and learn, right?   I am looking forward to my performance review this week and hope that you will consider me for advancement in the department.

Sincerely,

Sara

P.S.  My husband and I would like to invite you and your boyfriend over for a party next week.  It will just be a handful of close friends.  Please bring your keys and an open mind.

I See Inspiration

Inspiration.  That is the only way to describe The Magic Gardens in Philadelphia, PA.  Back in April of this year, my mom, sister, niece, and I took a weekend long girls’ trip to Philly.  One afternoon my sister suggested we go to The Magic Gardens.  It sounds fantastic, doesn’t it?  The Magic Gardens – it brings up imagery of The Secret Garden (one of my favorite books as a child) and all sorts of wonderful things.  This particular “garden”, however, is not made up of plant life but it is chock full of splendor and imagination.

If you’ve never heard of this wonderful place, their Mission Statement says “Philadelphia’s Magic Gardens (PMB) preserves the artworks of Isaiah Zagar and educates the public about mosaic and folk art.  By making art accessible, PMG seeks to foster civic engagement, community beautification, and artistic collaboration”.  To learn more about the amazing story behind this place and the inspiring artist, click on this link:  http://www.phillymagicgardens.org/

My sister told me this place was covered in mosaics (a medium that I love).  I thought, “that sounds cool” and went along with it.  Her words (and mine now for that matter) do not do this place justice.  Overwhelming is putting it mildly.  I took A LOT of pictures with my 35mm film camera.  Even my pictures do not do it justice but I will attempt to try and inspire you with these photos, as the place inspired me.  I’m still moved by it and envious of the lifelong commitment Mr. Zagar made to his community and his passion.  I want to live my artistic life that way and so far, I am taking baby steps to get there.

So, without further ado, I will give you a small snippet of this insanely amazing labyrinth of mosaics. 

If you have a love of art, a love of community, and a drive to keep both alive, I highly suggest visiting The Magic Gardens and donating to keep it alive.  If we all lived our lives this passionately and determined, imagine what our world would be? 

Going off the rails on a crazy train

Have you ever said something out loud, forgetting that no one else was privy to the whole conversation you had going on inside your head leading to that thought?  I do it quite a bit.  One night, I asked my husband what his current thought was (he didn’t have one).  Then he asked me what mine was and I said, “I was thinking about bat blood.” 

I’m thinking this is a completely normal thing to think about, on a random week night while sitting next to my husband on the couch, right?  (I wasn’t right but you probably know that, so I digress.)  Of course, I promptly had to explain my train of thought so I thought it would make a good post.  So here is my train of thought to Bat Blood. 

SCENE:  Sitting on the couch next to my husband.  I may or may not have been crocheting. 

1. The T.V. was on, to rot my brain, and a commercial with a dog came on the screen.  It was cute.
2. I started thinking about funny dog breeds.  Shitzu was the first one I thought about because of its great name.
3. It reminded me of a joke.  I couldn’t quite remember the whole joke but I knew the punch line was “it was a shitzu!”  Get it?  Shitzu…shitzoo…shit zoo.
4. I was still chuckling to myself about the shitzu.  I may have thought, “good one, Sara!”
5. I thought about the zoo and how I’d like to go soon.
6. I thought about animals in captivity at the zoo and how it’s not always a good thing.
7. Then I thought if it’s not a good thing, what’s the point in having a zoo?
8. Then, being the optimist I am, I started to think of reasons that a zoo is good.
9. I thought, I bet a lot of kids who grow up to help animals and go into jobs that end in Ologist or Inarian, probably got the idea going to the zoo.
10. If they first became interested after a trip to the zoo, I wonder if there was one, stand out memory that is what triggered it.  I wonder if they still talk about that defining moment in their life.
11. Did I have one memory from going to the zoo?
12. Yes, I do.
13. In elementary school I went on a field trip to the Cincinnati Zoo.  On that trip, we got to do a behind the scenes tour to see what the zoo keepers (and other Ologists and Inarians) do.  It was all very interesting, I assume, but I only remember one thing.
14. They feed the Vampire Bats blood – cow blood, to be exact.  However, they have to purify it so the bats don’t get sick.
15. The Ologists and Inarians take a big vat of cow blood, roll up their shirt sleeves, scrub their hands and arms like they are going into surgery, and then…get ready…stir the bat blood WITH THEIR ARMS!!!  Apparently, clean arm hairs will pick out some gross things that can get into cow blood and hurt the bats. 
16. One thing wrong with this logic of de-grossifying the blood --- it’s still gross.  It’s blood and now these Ologists and Inarians have bloody arms.  I remember them liking this job.  I remember liking that job too – from afar.
17. Cow blood is gross.
18. Bats eat (drink?) blood.
19. I think a Twilight-ish movie would be funny where a bat falls in love with a cow.  The forbidden love.
20. If bats eat/drink blood, then does it change their blood at all? 
21. I guess it wouldn’t since we eat meat and our blood is still human blood.  I can’t imagine that a little bat would have a lot of blood anyway. 
22. Bat blood.

And there you have it.  When it happened, that train {of thought} ride probably lasted 5 minutes, if that.  And yes, I made up words and I probably (read: definitely) did not check facts about bat blood, but that happens sometimes on the train.  I think if I tried to make my random thoughts follow direction, I would never have any really creative ideas.  So my suggestion to you would be to just let the crazy fly sometimes.  You’d be surprised how much more creative you can be if you don’t limit your imagination and thoughts.

How’s that for unfocused creativity?  Now, dear readers, tell me I’m not completely crazy and that you think of this kind of thing too.   And…go!

The Artist's Way

For anyone who has toyed with the idea of reading and following the 12-week program “The Artist’s Way” by Julia Cameron, I HIGHLY suggest doing it.  If you are making excuses that you are too busy and you don’t know how on Earth you would be able to work it into your life, I call your bluff on that because you have more free time than you think.  I work full time, have 3 young sons who have many activities, and I understand chalking things up to being “too busy” but, it is only an excuse.  If you feel creatively blocked in some way, this book is a fabulous way to find your path again. 

I am just starting Week 5 of the program and I’m also part of an online group where we check in each week via a blog and Facebook.  The check-in process has been good because it helps to keep me accountable.  However, even without it, I think I would still be following the program within the book. 

I have been creating a lot lately even before I started the book.  Where I have felt blocked is in deciding what I want to be when I grow up (so to speak).  I like my job and I get to work from home, which I am very thankful to be able to do.  I am good at what I do because my job requires me to be very organized and detail-oriented.  Those are some of my strengths.  Conversely, I also have this creative side that I am not able to use in my day job.  Instead, I spend all of my free time using my creative side, whether it’s in the morning before work, on my lunch break, at night, or sitting on the sidelines of a soccer game crocheting while I watch.  I will squeeze the heck out of every spare minute I have to be creative – like boa constrictor squeeze.  Insert lame boa constrictor drawing here...

I have been feeling, for a while now, like I am meant to do something different with my life.  I just have not been able to figure out what that is.  I also haven’t been able to figure out how to combine my strengths.  My logical, organized, detail-oriented self has never become formerly acquainted with my creative, always looking for beauty, artsy self.  I started “The Artist’s Way” with the hope that it would lead me to my true path.  I did not expect to have my whole life mapped out after 12-weeks.  I really wanted to just open myself up to possibilities and maybe end up with a rough draft mapping where I need to go. 

One of the essential pieces of the program is the Morning Pages.  Basically, every morning you just write – stream of consciousness style.  I was not sure if I would stick with this but I have.  I actually enjoy it now.  This type of writing removes all of those negative and “blah” thoughts from my brain before I start my day.  Also, as an emotional bottler (one who bottles her feelings), this has been very good for me.  It has helped me to identify some feelings that typically, I would just try to ignore.  I have never been one to keep a journal but I have enjoyed the Morning Pages and I have learned about myself as a result.  These Morning Pages have also helped me discover what I think may be my path.  I discovered this path in Week 4, which is more than I expected and quite amazing to me.

I have decided…drum roll please…to write a children’s book.  I’m not talking about a short story with illustrations either.  I mean a book aimed at older, grade school children complete with chapters.  One night I had this idea pop into my head and I could not shake it.  It just continued to grow and pestered me to acknowledge it.  I have always heard that you should write what you know.  Well, this idea combined what I know with some other fun things (I cannot tell you my idea in the hopes that maybe one day you will buy my book and be surprised, of course).  I started researching articles on writing a book.  The more I researched, the more I realized something.  This is how I combine the organized and detailed part of myself with the creative part of my self.  In order to write the quality book I would want to write, I have a lot of work and research to do (organized-detailed Sara).  However, in order to write the story and make it interesting, I need to open myself up and tap into my unique vision of the story (creative Sara).  I’ve never considered writing before, although people have complimented me on my writing style before.  How in the world did I miss that writing was a way to combine my two selves?

Yesterday I spent almost 2 hours at the library researching and outlining.  My mind is going a million miles a minute with ideas that I keep jotting down and my detailed self has been working to put things together and asking all the appropriate questions necessary for creating a well-developed and intriguing story.  Of course there is that inner critic inside of me that wants to shut down the project but I won’t let that happen.  This is something I am meant to do and I honestly believe that.  Once I recognized this, I felt a peace and calm in my soul that I have not felt in a while.  Even if the book never gets published, as long as my boys enjoy it, I will consider it a success. 

The point to all of this is even if you don’t feel like you have a creative bone in your body I encourage you to open yourself up to possibilities.  You never know what you are capable of until you let yourself try new things, make mistakes, and learn from it.  I have tried many, MANY new art mediums and crafts.  I have made many mistakes and I have created things that are a hot mess, BUT I keep trying and will continue to do so.  If it is something I truly want to learn or I really love, I will keep at it until I get the hang of it.  We are only as busy as we let ourselves be.  There are 24 hours in a day and I make sure that I suck as much beauty and art out of every one of them, every day.  You can too.   Example of said "hot mess"...a MS Paint drawing of a Doodling Goat...

With that, I must go.  Today I am going to finish crocheting a hat for my son, research details for my book, find an awesome 80s look for Halloween tonight, and maybe eat candy until I’m sick.  What are you going to do to make this day beautiful? 

To end, here's a picture of Halloween past with me, my mom, and my little sister (about 27 years ago - yikes!).  Happy Halloween, y’all! 

The Search for the Lost Creativity

It's so easy sometimes to let life get in the way and to pull away from being creative.  For me, it makes for a sad, boring Sara.  Like everything else, it goes in spurts and when I notice it happening, I now know to get myself back on track right away.  It really does keep me sane.  Whether I'm doodling or working on a big project, I need to create every day.  If I go too long without it, I become "out of sorts".  I'll wander around the house aimlessly and just feel down in the dumps but not really know why initially.  I tend to bottle my feelings as it is so, expressing myself creatively is truly my outlet for those feelings.  I believe firmly in "use it or lose it".  If I don't "use it", I completely "lose it".  By it, I mean my grip on my life and happiness.  Sounds extreme but I'm happier when I can be creative on a regular basis. 

I have 3 children -- all boys.  I love those wild and crazy guys.  When I first had children, I lost my identity.  I became a wife and mother (which is wonderful) but I went too far with it and let that become my sole identity.  Add some working mom guilt to that, and that was me, in a nutshell.  When they were babies, I didn't notice it because babies require so much attention.  It wasn't until they started getting older that I realized I was restless.  My marriage was (and is) great and I adore my husband.  I'm a good mom.  I love my family and friends.  However, something seemed "off".  I started noticing that when my boys were old enough to play together for longer periods of time and my husband had his own hobbies, I would literally just wander around the house unsure of what to do with myself.  I felt agitated, bored, and restless.  The worst part was that I couldn't figure out why I felt like that.  My husband would suggest I get out of the house and go piddle around town.  So I would go to the craft stores or the book stores and wander for a while.  Being a young family, money was limited so I would buy a magazine here and there.  That became my weekly treat.  I'd go out on the weekends and buy a couple of magazines - fashion, art, music, etc.  I loved reading them and I saved all of them.  I'd get inspired by clothes, colors, photographs, articles.  I enjoyed having something small that I looked forward to buying and reading.

One day I started feeling antsy and I recognized it as the need to create something.  It had been a long time since I'd made anything so I was out of practice and I didn't know where to start.  It was overwhelming.  So I bought some magazines and started really noticing colors and patterns.  I started cutting things out and I found a sketch book that I would glue or tape these findings into regularly.  I would cut out photos that spoke to me in some way - whether it was funny or interesting, beautiful or ugly, offensive or bland.  I would cut out pieces of anything that had a color or pattern I felt drawn to or may want to recreate at some point.  I cut out pictures of food and clothes.  I cut out quotes and articles.  All of this went into my scrapbook until it was almost full.  Every week I would buy more magazines and, once I read through them entirely, I would start cutting and pasting.  I enjoyed looking through my scrapbook as much as I enjoyed my magazines.  It was starting to inspire me.

This went on for many months until finally I realized I needed to stop searching for inspiration and start creating some of my own.  It started small and I would create but, still go long periods where I didn't create at all. I started to get a little more creative with my magazine book.  I started cutting pieces out and putting them together in odd ways.

Eventually I came to understand that I need this to keep myself happy.  Now I make jewelry, crochet, paint, draw, sculpt wire, make mosaics, and, from my initial love of magazines, I work with collage art as well.  I love collage art because you can add so much to it to create something original.  I am noticing that collage is making it's way into my other mediums as well, whether I'm adding different items to jewelry or mixing my love of wire sculpture with crochet. 

In looking at the photos of collage art I've done, you probably can't tell how much time and how many mediums truly went into this work.  I think I love collage because it's like me...on the outside it seems pretty easy going and simple, but no one realizes how much is involved and how complex and textured it really is.  Only the people closest to it knows.  I can relate to that.

I have since grown and learned so much.  I still get lost in myself sometimes but I understand the importance of keeping a piece of me no matter what.  In the past couple of years, I've realized how important it is to me to leave my mark on this world.  I enjoy making things for people I care about that they can keep for a long time.  I enjoy selling things I create to strangers and hearing them say how much they love it.  I enjoy making things that my kids can have for years and pass down to their children.  I enjoy teaching my children different forms of art and teaching them how to look for inspiration and appreciate it.  I've developed a fiery burning inside of me.  Right now it's just an incessant need to create, learn, and grow as an artist.  One day though I know that it will be my path and my career.  For now I just have to be patient (or pretend to be anyway).

I'm just going to end this with the term "sublime chocolate experience" while I eat some fun sized chocolate bars (although I found that they aren't much fun until you eat at least 3).

Lame Super Powers

There are SO many comics, cartoons, movies, tv shows, books, etc. that are about super heroes and their amazing super powers.  I thought it would be funny to list a bunch of super powers that would be really cool to have but then severely restrict their use.  I have to give some credit to my mantastic husband as he helped me brainstorm some of these.  Without further ado, I give you...

1.  Ability to get *slightly* stronger radio or cell phone signals with your mind.

2.  Super strength that can only be used to open jars.

3.  Super speed but only when you are running to the bathroom.

4.  Super smell abilities that can only be used to definitively point out "the fellar".

5.  X-ray vision that only works when viewing old men.

6.  Telekinesis that can only be used to press 'mute' on
electronics.

7.  Ability to foresee the future but only to predict American Idol results.

8.  Ability to read minds but only the songs that get stuck in other people's heads.

9.  Ability to breathe under water but only when staying completely still, once you move you lose the ability.

10.  Ability to hack into and see visions of other people's bank accounts but only to check the available balances.

11.  Ability to fly but only if you are trying to catch birds.

12.  Invisibility cloak that is made out of the itchiest of all wool and you are deathly allergic to it.

13.  Shape shifting ability but you can only shift into the Octomom during the delivery of her many babies.

14.  Everything you touch turns to gold but it's only gold-plated.

15.  Able to leap tall buildings but you can only land barefooted on piles of Legos. 

And now, I'm off to do sort of cool things in really lame ways...

Unfocused Creativity Take 2

Living with a chronic illness (or several), in a word, SUCKS.  I live with Thyroid disease, Fibromyalgia, and Essential Tremor Disorder.  Each of them bring their own challenges.  The most challenging one for me to live with is Fibro.  The sheer enormity of the symptoms can be overwhelming.  My symptoms can be severe and debilitating.  If you want to know more about the insane amount of things Fibro does to your body, you can click on this link here http://www.fmnetnews.com/basics-symptoms.php  I have most of these symptoms plus some bonus symptoms.

Currently I feel like I was hit by a bus.  This particular bus waits until I actually have fun plans on a weekend and then comes out of nowhere and BAM!  Once it runs me over, I'm pretty sure it backs up and does it a couple more times for good measure.

I have a wonderfully supportive family and great group of friends.  I'm very thankful for that.  My kids are old enough now that they are starting to understand a little more and I can speak candidly about why I'm sick so often.  I'm also very fortunate to be able to work from home every day.  I work in a fairly stressful profession and I'm the sole provider for my family of five, so that takes its toll on my body, but not having a commute is a blessing.  My husband stays at home with the kids and has a sports card business.  As dramatic as it sounds, I honestly do not know what I would do without him.  He was sent by God, that much I'm sure.

I am a very positive person and I don't like to be fussed over most of the time.  There are many people much worse off than me and I'm well aware of that.  Still, the most challenging thing of being sick so often is trying to keep these illnesses from completely taking over my identity.  Most of the time I can manage this pretty well but during really bad days or flares, it is a struggle.  When I'm really sick, I lose most of my ability to be creative.  I have been able to create a couple of cartoons on my laptop during some recent flares though.  It's been therapeutic to personify Fibro and to lighten up when I'm feeling so poorly.

My life has completely changed as a result of having chronic illnesses.  I have to take a lot of medicines.  I have to see doctors regularly.  The biggest change though is having to think about, literally, everything I do. If you don't have a chronic illness, that just sounds like something everyone has to do but it's much more than that. I can't call in sick to life on a regular basis.  There are a lot of days that I have to take it hour by hour, minute by minute.  For example, on a day where I feel really badly - terrible exhaustion, pain coursing through my body, terrible nausea, dizziness, headaches, chest pains, etc. - I may not have the luxury to stay in bed that day (no matter how much my body is begging me to do so).  I have to work, I have to get kids ready for school, I have to be there for my family...I can't just phone it in because I don't know how long this "bad day" will last.  Will I feel a little better the next day or will this be one of those flares that lasts for weeks?  The thing with an illness like this is, even with rest, you don't feel better.  So let's say I have a bad day, here's an example of what I mean about thinking about every task that day.

1.  Wake up -- sounds easy enough.  However, my body is very stiff in the morning and usually my joints and my neck are hurting a lot.  I don't wake up refreshed so I'm usually exhausted and nauseous upon waking.  This is when I have that fight in my head.  Everyone has had this fight when they have been sick at some point.

2.  Moving -- I know, I know, that's dramatic, but I have to think it through because it requires energy that I might not have and I have to move slow.  If I just jumped up out of bed, I could very likely get so dizzy that I could faint or I could just put myself in a lot of pain.

3.  Shower -- if it's a particularly bad day, I might forego the shower so that I have enough energy to get the kids ready for school, make some coffee, and have a little time to rest before work.  This is one perk of working from home.  If I do that, then I will try to shower at lunch time or in the evening.  Ah hell, sometimes it's the next morning.  I do have good hygiene though - promise.

4.  Get dressed.  This requires energy and, what I wear depends on what hurts or how stiff my body is.  If I'm having a pretty good day, I will attempt cuteness and throw on some jeans and a cute top.  If it's a semi-bad day, then it will probably be some comfy pants and a t-shirt.  On a terrible day, I still try to change out of my PJs but it may have to be a really stretchy shirt with a wide collar.  This is because I may be in too much pain to reach up over my head for very long so I need to be able to wrangle my way into it as easily as possible.

5.  Take pills - easy enough provided I drink enough water.  I currently have an awesome side effect from a new medication that is causing a loud ringing in my ear and has reduced my hearing.  Yay me. 

6.  Make coffee -- at this point in the morning, it seems like coffee making is a freakin' marathon but I'm sure that's true of "normal people" too.

7.  Kids/Dogs/Sign School Stuff/Breakfasts/Lunches/Whirlwind -- on bad days, I just have to bark orders out from the recliner.  I'm not sure why the morning routine seems to be a surprise to everyone each morning.  That's why it's called a ROUTINE.  The routine here is the kids having the attention spans of gnats and then acting surprised that I expect them to do the same things they did the morning before and in a similar amount of time.  But I digress. 

8.  Rest and mentally prepare for work.  This is an essential step on particularly bad days. 

9.  Walk to my office and start the work day.  Like most normal people, the majority of my energy is spent here.  Unlike normal people, the majority of my energy is *literally* spent here.  On bad days, I may have to leave my office at 5:00 and go to bed.  If the older kids have practices, my husband may need to take them and then I have to lie down on the couch so I can spend time with my youngest.  I hate that I don't have more to give after work but I take some peace in knowing that I'm providing for my family and so that's a good way for my energy to be spent on each day. 

10. Make dinner, take kids to sports practice, bedtime routines, some sort of chore (let's say put laundry away), or do something fun.  On a good day, I have to make a choice here because I can't do everything.  These are pretty minor things to a healthy person but think about when you had a really bad case of the flu or even, when you were recovering from a bad case of the flu, how big did these "minor" things suddenly feel to you?  On a really bad day, I may be only able to pick one thing, if that.   Again, my husband should run for sainthood because he is quick to pick up the slack on my really bad days.  All other days, I will muster everything I have to get through as many responsibilities as possible.  I don't want everything to fall onto my husband on a regular basis.  Some days it's essential for my choice to be 'do something fun' and let the rest slide.  A person could go crazy otherwise.

To really help you understand how crucial each decision is every day, there is a wonderful essay called "The Spoon Theory".  It was written by a lady who has Lupus but was written to explain living with any chronic illness. It explains things better than anything I've read so far.  In our household, we often refer to spoons now.  http://www.butyoudontlooksick.com/articles/written-by-christine/the-spoon-theory-written-by-christine-miserandino/ 

Planning is key when you're chronically ill but you also have to accept that plans have to be broken sometimes too.  I hate breaking plans but I'm learning that sometimes I have to do it and I'm slowly starting to ease the guilt I feel about it.  Fibro is a very unpredictable illness.  Sure, if I overdo it one day I expect to feel badly the next day, but sometimes, I'll have a bad day (or week) out of nowhere.  I try to ration my energy for days leading up to big plans. 

For instance, my husband and I have tickets to a football game that we've had for months and this game means a great deal to him.  I realize that this game is going to take a lot out of me due to the amount of walking we'll have to do, stairs at the stadium, sitting in a hard chair for hours, and just being around a lot of people can be draining.  I recognize this so I need to prepare.  I rest a little extra in the days leading up to the game.  The day before the game, I do very little to try and conserve my energy.  Then, when we get home from the game, I do very little the rest of that evening so I can rest before the work week starts again.  Sometimes this approach is very helpful and, while I know I may feel ill for a few days after the event, it will be worth it.  Sounds easy enough, right?  Well, this particular plan of attack is completely blown out of the water when my symptoms all suddenly and severely flare up for unknown reasons.  Two days before the game, I'm suddenly hit by that proverbial bus again.  I rest, I try to sleep more, but I'm so sick that I have to call in sick to work (which I typically try to avoid at all costs).  The football game is the next day and I struggle to sit in a recliner rather than just stay in bed.  I have no idea if I'll feel up to leaving the house, much less going to a game in the next 24 hours.  These are the plan changers that I struggle most to accept.  I have to try and accept that I may not get to go to this game that we've been looking forward to for months.  So my new plan is to try not to stress over it, keep resting and hoping that 24 hours will bring the energy I need, and I have to accept that it may not happen.  The other part of my plan is to make sure my husband doesn't miss out because of me.  I let him know that I want him to go with or without me - whether he goes alone, with a friend, a family member, whatever.  I am completely sincere in that I want him to enjoy himself even if I can't.  He is too important and too wonderful to have to miss something that means so much to him because of my illness.

There is also a small amount of panic when a plan comes up that I know will be tough to manage.  Because I save so much of my energy to be able to provide for my family, my free time usually needs to be low key.  Probably one of my biggest struggles in attempting to keep my illnesses from taking over my identity is avoiding really living my life because I have to save my energy for my responsibilities.  I don't want it to be like that at all.  I want to live and not just exist.  I'm constantly working with my doctors to find a treatment plan that is going to help me best manage my symptoms and get back to living my life again.  There is no cure for any of my illnesses so it's all trial and error.  In the meantime, it's imperative that I save my energy for providing for my family and being the best wife and mother I can be with what little energy I have.  I'll also keep squeezing in some creating while I am at it. 

I am one happy lady in that I am married to a man I adore, I have 3 beautiful, healthy children, a wonderful family, and great friends.  So I have some difficulties in my day to day life, who doesn't?  I am on a quest to live the best life I can live and to reach my dreams.  I'll get there, illness and all.  It might take me a little longer but I'll get there.