11 of many things I am thankful for

I am thankful for my horse Zephyr and all the happiness/trauma he has brought to my life. For all the things we have learned from each other and for all the good times we've had together. I'm thankful that when I'm having a bad day, he is always there to nuzzle his warm nose into my stomach, and that he lets me hang on his neck and bug him while he is eating, and braid his tail. I'm thankful that I have the best horse ever.

I'm thankful for concerts and being deaf for a week afterwards. And for making friends while waiting in line
and being packed into an exceedingly rambunctious crowd and having my hair pulled accidentally and also having a crowd surfer kick me in the face. It's all part of the experience. An experience that I am very grateful for.

I am eternally grateful for meeting Andrew VanWyngarden and all of his curly haired glory. That's all I have to say about that.

I am thankful for Seattle and all the cool things that are part of the city and also all the opportunities to take rad photos. I'm thankful for the rain, and the leaves, and also the warm summer days.

I am beyond thankful for my best friend, Amy. That we can have deep discussions about the origins of the universe and the existence of aliens. That we share the same music taste, that she can always make me laugh, that we can text each other at 4am when everything is hilarious and do really stupid stuff together. I'm thankful that I happened to meet someone that works the same way as I do and feels the same way about pretty much everything. 

I'm thankful for books, mostly Harry Potter, because it's nice to sit and relax on any given day, and read some Harry Potter. It's also a lovely way to enter a time warp, you just mean to read one chapter before bed and then suddenly you're finishing the book and the sun is rising, so I'm thankful for nights like that.

Also super thankful for Sonia, who has been with me through thick and thin, and introduced me to Harry Potter. I'm thankful for our crazy adventures and all of our future plans involving Sasquatch and a truckload of garbage. That we are both on the same wavelength when it comes to most things and that she can always make me laugh. I'm thankful that I have someone that keeps me from going more insane than I already am, and that we can waste hours on end watching dailygrace and crabstickz videos.

I'm thankful for my dad who is a huge inspiration to me and always has cool stories to tell from RISD and also always has constructive criticism and an honest opinion about my drawings and paintings. I'm thankful that I have the coolest dad ever and a plethora of amazing memories.

I'm supes thankful for maltesers cause yum. I'm thankful for their quality chocolate and their honey crisp wafer in the middle. And that's that.

I'm insanely thankful for my big brother. We didn't really get along as kids, but we do now. I'm thankful for having someone to rant to, and to have someone who is so intelligent and wise for only being 19. He is basically THEE coolest brother I could have ever asked for and I would be nothing like the way I am today if it weren't for John. He pushes me to try new things and I can't say I have ever regretted taking his advice. So, I'm thankful for that.

And last, but most certainly not least, I am thankful for British Sci Fi shows and more specifically: Doctor Who. I'm thankful for Daleks, but WAY more thankful  for The Doctor cause he saves the world from the Daleks. Oh, and of course I'm also thankful for Keaton, because it's awesome to have someone to obsess over Doctor Who with :)

Shakespearean Sonnet

Blood is a tragically beautiful thing
As it makes its' way down a pale white face
Oh, the sadness and relief it can bring
With my finger, the red bloodstain I trace

Some would say the sight makes them feel queasy
The sharp contrast of blood flowing from skin
She see's beauty, blood flowing so easy
As the smile on her face becomes thin

There's a slight glint of malice in her eyes
Defying sleep in the middle of night
Through the surface comes the madness she hides
With the moon in the sky; the only light

She wonders how you feel right before death
What it's like to take one last relieved breath

Hi I'm Ismene and I'm Obedient!

Antigone came to me, and asked if I would help bury our brother's body, against the order of Creon. I did not know what to do, or what to say! I do believe it is a shame that our beloved brother is not permitted to have a proper burial, but "to defy the state or break her ordinance I have no skill!" (79). I fear breaking the law, and do not want to suffer the consequences. It is the logical decision and as much as I loved our brother, I think it best to let this go. It is not something I view as worth the terrible consequences that could accompany this act of opposition. "Shall we not perish wretchedest of all, if in defiance of the law we cross a monarch's will?" (59-61). I am afraid I just cannot do that.

What would have become of me, if I broke this law. People would surely think poorly of me and I would die and be "abhorred" and "dishonored" just like my parents (50). I do not want to die, and be remembered that way. So I will stand firm in my place. "I perforce obey the powers that be. 'Tis foolishness, I ween, to overstep in aught the golden mean.'" (66-68). I much prefer to remain quiet and unnoticed –unpunished. Antigone was stubborn and had her mind made. She ran off determined to give our brother a proper burial. I am content staying on the sidelines, and not getting involved in such foolish behavior. I wish I could help, but it is best that I don't in this situation.

A Rather Contradictory Ginger

As I stepped out of my TARDIS, I saw a girl with unruly, long red hair. She was sitting on a bench, in a park, drawing a detailed portrait of a man. As I took a few steps closer, I noticed that the picture she was drawing, was a picture me. On her notebooks she had doodles and sketches of little cartoon aliens and spaceships. Papers spilling out in every which way, mostly drawings, but the occasional peice of homework would slip out between the rest. She had everything very put together, in the most disorganized way possible. The wind pulled her hair in multiple directions, but it seems she just agreed to let it do its' own thing. I walked over and sat down next to her, though she did not seem to notice, never losing focus on her drawing. She seemed very concentrated, but every so often she stopped and stared at her shoes, with the most absent minded stare. Almost as if she was in a completely different universe. She was pulled out of her apparent day dream when I said hello. Avoiding my eyes, she replied with a friendly hello, but in the most distant way. Her personality seemed to contradict itself quite a bit. I asked her for her name, and at that moment- she realized who I was. Her eyes got huge and her mouth dropped open slightly. Her cheeks turned red as she frantically stuffed away the drawing, which coincidentally was of the man sitting next to her. We began to chat, and slowly the shy and distant red head seemed to become significantly more vocal. She had a plethora of thoughts and opinions to share, but still avoided eye contact most of the time.

I invited her to travel through time and space with me, and she obviously said yes.

My trusty companion loved adventure, and danger, and the adrenaline rush, and being absolutely reckless. However at the same time she wanted the feeling of safety, she didn't like being vulnerable, and she didn't like the idea of dying. On the other hand, she was not at all scared of dying. She could quite possibly be one of the most contradictory people I have ever traveled with. She was incredibly disorganized, but had everything in the right order. She was shy, but strangely talkative once you got her going on something. Confident yet self conscious. Absolutely mental, but also relatively sane. She wanted nothing more than to see the whole world, but never wanted to get out of bed.

The Girl Who Lived

No one remembers when it started. I think I was born with it. For as long as I can remember, there was nothing I wanted more than a horse. Every Christmas, my request was the same, but the answer was always no. Every birthday, before I blew out my candles my mom would tell me, “don’t waste your wish on a horse, you can’t have one.” Of course I always would anyways.

Finally after 16 years worth of birthday wishes, I got a horse of my own. He was a 4-year-old Thoroughbred that raced at the local racetrack. No longer winning races as he once did, he was given to me as a gift. I changed his name to Zephyr, and got to retraining him and breaking his old racing habits. He had his fair share of rambunctious outbursts, and threw me on the ground several times. I didn’t mind though.

We quickly earned each other’s trust and worked as one. By the time the summer before my senior year rolled around, it was time to have my senior portraits taken. Because Zephyr had been such an influential part of my life, I wanted to take my pictures with him. Things were going swell, until he decided to throw a bit of an untimely tantrum. He spun around so he was facing me, and reared all the way up onto his hind legs. I looked up at this massive animal as he thrashed his front legs about. Determined to not let go of his reins, I stood my ground. I had never been fearful of horses, and especially not my own. I was in the process of scolding Zephyr; when his front hoof came down, square on my head. I hit the ground, and could feel my horse tugging on the reins, and backing up. Upon hitting the ground I immediately jumped up to calm him down, and make sure he didn't run off. Not realizing that I had blood streaming down the side of my face, I asked my mom what was wrong, as she started to press a paper towel to my bloodied head. I then asked her if I was bleeding, and if it had ruined my white shirt. After calling 911, it started to sink in what had just happened, although I wasn’t quite sure of the severity.

I had a four-inch laceration that went all the way down to my skull. I was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance (exciting!) where they did a CT scan on my head and gave me thirteen stitches. Incredibly enough, I left the hospital that night with nothing more than 13 stitches, a gnarly looking head, and of course a bit of head trauma. On the way home from the hospital, I forced my mom to stop at the barn so I could check on Zephyr to make sure he was doing alright.

Had I been kicked just a little bit off to the side, I could’ve been severely injured or even killed. I realized that night: I have a tremendous amount of passion for horses, and even knowing how seriously I could’ve gotten injured, I still couldn’t stay away. My passion doesn’t end with horses, however. I have the ambition to get myself into an artistic field, and succeed. To go as high as my abilities will take me, and still work at going higher. I have the desire to do well in the things that I work at, and the amount of passion inside me drives me to do the things I love. To work hard with my horse, to do my best in school, to practice my art until I can no longer keep my eyes open. I have such an immense amount of passion, that nothing will be able to keep me down. When I am fervent about something, I will find a way to make it happen.

My House

“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.” - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity


The analogy that C.S. Lewis uses in this quote was like an "ah-ha!' moment for me. I have been told for as long as I can remember that "Jesus is living inside me" or "your body is the temple for the Holy Spirit". I heard these things so often throughout my childhood that it either lost its meaning- or I simply was spacing out or daydreaming too much to fully process this statement. When I read this part of Mere Christianity I finally made the connections.


At first He starts out just fixing the small things that need to be fixed quickly. Then some of the bigger "projects" start to take place. Things that are harder to fix. He begins to tear down your "house" and it doesn't feel good. This is the part that seems to be the hardest for me, probably along with quite a few others. No one likes to be in pain, and no one likes feeling vulnerable. So when things that hurt badly start to take place, I personally begin to question things. Why would God be doing this? How is good going to come from this situation? It hurts, and I don't like it. I often feel uncomfortable and frankly, I don't like feeling uncomfortable.


Though it hurts sometimes, it is good to remember that God will never put you through more than He knows you can handle. He isn't hurting you, it just feels that way sometimes. In actuality, He is making something amazing out of you... a castle, or a palace, or something even more marvelous that Hogwarts (which is the most wonderful piece of architecture I can think of!).


Right now, I feel run down. I feel like that house on the corner that doesn't match any of the other houses in the neighborhood. The one that is just beginning the renovation process. The house that isn't quite sure what color it wants to be painted. But I will figure it out. I may never turn out to be the most fantastic house in the neighborhood, or even fit in with the rest of the houses, but what matters is that I am being fixed –slowly but surely, I am being fixed.

Life.

When I was fifteen years old, I was given an ex racehorse. Of course, I was ecstatic. I had always wanted a horse of my own. Going into it, I was a bit skeptical of it. He was very rambunctious, and high strung, I wasn't sure if this was something I was ready to take on. I worried about what I was getting myself into. But I took what I could get, even if it was an unruly, four year old nightmare.

The first six months that I had him, I spent literally everyday getting to know this thirteen hundred pound animal. He got to know me, and let me try out everything with him.

Things were going smoothly, I was more comfortable around my horse than I was with most people. I could sit in his stall and not worry about being stepped on, I could get on without a saddle and he carried me along without fail.

Just as I was 100% comfortable with this massive animal, he threw me off. Hard. Face first into a course sand arena at 30 mph. I guess he just decided he missed being a racehorse and ran for it. The thing is, the moment I fell off, he skidded to a halt and stood next to my body and just looked at me, probably thinking ''why are you on the ground, little human?'' I got back up, and got back on.

Sometimes life is like riding a horse. You are used to life, you have a routine and you do your thing. You think you know whats coming next, because you think you know life so well. Just as you get comfortable, life throws you on the ground. But it doesn't make much sense to just lay there on the ground. What will you accomplish there? Not nearly as much as if you climb back on and take the risks required to grow and learn.

Life is so unexpected, even when you know what to expect. Especially when you know what to expect. Sometimes it goes smoothly, and you feel like you know exactly what you're doing. Then- bam! Life kicks you in the head and gives you 13 stitches. But don't cry, instead sit in the grass, clean the blood off your boots, and laugh as you wait for the ambulance to come get you.

Litany

You are the music and the words
The lead guitar and the verse
You are the birds chirping away
And the soft november rain
You are the knit sweater in the winter
and the bare feet throughout summer.

However, you are not the commercial during my favorite program
The pencil shavings on the floor
Or the itch that cannot be reached
And you are certainly not the stale bag of chips
There is just no way you are the stale bag of chips.

It is possible that you are the wind in my hair
Maybe even my temporary wings
but you are not even close to being the mural on the wall.

And a quick look in the mirror will show
That I am neither the mud puddle outside
nor the untouched layer of snow.

It might interest you to know
Speaking of the aesthetics of life
That I am the waves crashing on the shore.

I also happen to be the crunchy leaves
The grass that has gotten too long
And the doodles on the math homework that got too confusing to finish.

I am also the elusive dragonfly
And the lost explorer
But don't worry, I'm not the music and the words
You are still the music and the words
You will always be the music and the words
Not to mention the lead guitar and somehow-- the verse.