Pieces of Today, May 26th 2016

1) Ethnicity studies (my fancy name for looking up different cultures on Pinterest).

2) The odd variations in my handwriting.

3) Books on the floor and on the bureau and on the table and...I need a bookshelf.

4) Dried roses.

5) A funny, sad, and brilliant movie.

6) Chocolate chips.

7) A tiny notebook full of names.

8) Two letters stamped and addressed and ready to be sent in the morning.

9) The kitten's plaintive meaows and sharp claws as she perches precariously on my shoulder.

10) The relief of actually writing a blog post again after - how long has it been? A month? Anyway, I'm glad to be back. :D 

Pieces of Today, Apr. 18th 2016

1. Green-apple taste and couch cushions.

2. "It seems my hypocrisy knows no bounds."

3. An old porcelain doll in a lacy pink dress.

4. (I'll be your sword, I'll be your shield.) 

5. A puppy dog chewing on my defenseless ankle.

6. (And she smiles...oh, the way she smiles.) 

7. Delft blue.

8. (And if I seemed dangerous, would you be scared?) 

9. Water-spots on my glasses.

10. The glories of trying to figure out what exactly I messed up when trying to type our Wi-Fi password. Who even comes up with these things? 

Pieces Of Today, Apr. 11th 2016

1. Blueberry tea and cold eggs and sausage.

2. Rumbly grey clouds and wide-open roses.

3. (You said it's nothing but the rain.) 

4. (So you see, this world doesn't matter to me.) 

5. Green.

6. Closet-cleaning.

7. Hail-storms and pounding water on our roof.

8. A lime-green notebook.

9. Bright sunlight-clouds.

10. Sunburnt skin and mosquito bites. 

Pieces of Today, Apr. 6th 2016

1. A little girl teaching me to draw a horse, mane and all.

2. Hectic getting-ready for a camping trip.

3. Asparagus, fresh and green and wonderful.

4. Black pen-marks on clean paper.

5. The heaving breaths of sweaty kids playing freeze tag.

6. Artwork on social media.

7. (Never mind, I'll find someone like you.) 

8. The weight of a baby on my hip and a sweet, toothless, heart-melting little smile.

9. My favorite possession in this world...a hoodie. An amazing, warm, wonderful hoodie.

10. (I want you to live forever, underneath the sky so blue.) 

Like An Adolescent Unyielding

I have talked before about being both a child and an adult—about how I want my life to be tender with wonder and strong with experience. But there is, as always, even more to what I want to be.

I want to be bold. I want to be brave. I want to march to victory without thinking of what would happen should my cause be lost. I want to know what I want and I want to shout it aloud.

I want to be like Frodo, taking the Ring to Mordor, though I do not know the way.

I want to be like Buttercup, working towards improvement against the return of my Beloved.

I want to be like the countless young men and women throughout the centuries, loving my God and my family and living and dying that they might live and die.

I want determination, and emotion, and fervent fire building and burning in my veins. I want to walk through the angry mob unharmed, solid and covered with a certain admirable Grace, and standing on a Rock that no earthquake can move.

And this is yet another of my Odd Resolutions—to be an adolescent unyielding, holding firm in my faith and refusing to belong to another. 

Roses

So she cultivated roses there and graffitied on the walls, and

 paint got on the plants but people pretended not to notice. 

On Writing Epics and Dropping Stones

The skipping stone leaves ripples, but ripples fade. The stone sinks, but it continues to shift and sink into the earth.

Well, it's time to write.

I am conspicuously armed with my essentials: My favorite mug full of some cheap berry tea and my writing hoodie (acquired at an Army-Navy store in Tennessee) engulfing my mussed form. My favorite playlist is playing on Spotify, and Pinterest is up in another tab just in case I need some quick inspiration. I'm ready for this.

The problem is, I have no idea what I'm doing.

I've been writing for five or six years. In that time I have produced the beginnings of four novels, one completed short story and fourteen unfinished ones, twenty-odd poems that I would shudder to show anyone, and a lot of bad fanfiction. Like an artist trying to paint a masterpiece, I've been trying to write my epics and pretty much failing.

So I took a break for a while.

I didn't write for five months, except for blogging. I focused more on things like school and free reading and wandering around outside. I actually didn't miss it as much as I thought I would.

The truth is, I love writing. I'm working on a book that, with the grace of God, might actually work out. I love the romance of words and the ache my heart feels when I read a fairytale. But I'm not meant for an epic. I'm not meant to be a classic author, a second Tolkien or Chesterton or Kafka.

I used to think that meant I wouldn't make it as a writer at all. I mean, what was the point if I didn't touch someone's life or failed to create a character someone could relate with?

But the real point is this: The masters weren't the only ones who found joy in putting pen to paper. Writing is not about the people reading. It effects them, but it is a secondhand effect. The person who is different because of writing is the writer.

So this is my odd resolution for now: To no longer want to be a master, a writer of epics. I want to be a simple teller of fairy-stories. I want to paint watercolors on notebook paper, and leave the ceiling frescoes to some modern Michelangelo. 

Pieces of Today, Mar. 16th 2016

1. Jed's Hobbit Rock: A reminder from my brother that I have promised to be a hobbit for my birthday, and give gifts to others instead of receiving them.

2. (Pack your things; leave somehow. Blackbird's song is over now.) 

3. Sunlight on irises and green-carpeted ground. 

4. The very first few Indian Paintbrush. 

5. (So if you see me smilin' it's because I got you to love.) 

6. (Tell everyone I'm coming home soon.) 

7. Lamplight on copper-beige fabric. 

8. Raskolniki. 

9. (Can we sail to Spain, just me and you?) 

10. Preparations for my upcoming BAPTISM, a very exciting epoch in my life this far. Praise God for the great mercy, grace, and love He has showered on me in order to get me this far! 

Pieces of Today, Mar. 14th 2016

1. A taste of my art journaling:

2. Cleaning. More cleaning. And sweeping. Sweeping is not cleaning.

3. (Everybody in the ol' cell block, dancin' to the jailhouse rock.) 

4. A new computer and a very confusing keyboard. (Seriously, this thing is so spread-out and hard to type on.)

5. Paperwork.

6. MASHED POTATOES.

7. (And I don't need this life, I just need somebody to die for.) 

8. Still mulling over Harvest America.

9. (Well, I've heard there was a secret chord, that David played, and it pleased the Lord...) 

10. And such an overwhelming sense of grace; grace that saved a wretch like me.

Pieces of Today, Feb. 19th 2016

1. Happy dogs and a grumpy cat.

2. Drowsiness and sleepiness (which are not at all the same thing).

3. New movies and old TV shows and dorky outfits in both.

4.

    "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?    Far from my deliverance are the words of my groaning.    O my God, I cry by day, but You do not answer;   And by night, but I have no rest." -(Psalm 22:1-2)

5. (Well the good ol' days may not return...the rocks might melt, and the sea may burn.)

6. Staticky radio hosts and tangled cords on the floor.

7. Rock n' Roll and blatant carefree-ness.

8. The lingering affects of a headache mixed with the dizzyness of moving too quickly.

9. Different anthems ringing and ranging and leaping around my head like a ping-pong ball.

And most important:

10. "The thing I'm gonna love about Heaven is there'll be no fences."