Magicday…Individuality

Tags

celebrate, individuality, inspiration, magic, make Monday magic, positivity, spread a smile, thoughts

I have been struggling with what to blog about lately. It happens to us all.

What to write? What to post? What do I want to talk about? Well…

In a world drowning in politics, of so many opinions clashing and exploding…a world fighting for equality, people screaming and punching their ways out of confining boxes made of definitions…a world where too much violence occurs…

The world needs magic.

So the search begins, for magic, in whatever form we can find it.

What a perfect thing to post on Mondays, the least favorite day of the week. Poor Mondays.

With a wave of my wand…Monday transforms into MAGICDAY!

POOF!

The bit of magic I want to celebrate today is INDIVIDUALITY!

So many people on one planet. And not one is the same as any other. Sure, we can find people who have similar opinions, like the same things, or live the same way we do, but NO ONE an exact match.

MAGIC.

Yes, it can cause fighting, but it can also allow the beauty of the world to shine. What a gorgeous world we have when every flower is different, when we can turn to the person next to us and learn something new!

This should unite us. And coming together as the Human race won’t erase all the things that make each person, each culture, unique, but give each person the chance to add their voice to the chorus.

So instead of shaming your neighbors for their opinions, instead of trying to silence them…rejoice in the fact of our individuality. The great power of the universe (whatever you may call it, or not) has granted us the ability of thought, of forming our own opinions, and we should use this magic to the best of our ability.

We won’t change the world by telling everyone else they’re wrong, but by being ourselves and allowing every one else that same magic.

The person next to you who is spouting ideals that clash with yours? It’s going to happen.

There is no right and wrong, only a whole lotta people with a whole lotta beliefs. The beauty of individuality.

Happy Magicday, everyone!

Celebrating My Stripes

Tags

art, be who you are, embrace who you are, illustrator, individuality, life, writer

“Wear your stripes proudly, my fellow zebras. Embrace what makes you different. Own what sets you apart. It’s not a weakness, and its just as beautiful. Believe in your stripes, slay that insecurity demon and feeling of inadequacy, and you just might find that the mustangs around you aren’t running away, but are instead running with you.”

This is an excerpt from Kisa Whipkey’s blog, go read the entire post… I’ll wait.

Great, right? She’s a fabulous writer and editor, though she’ll claim she’s a better editor than writer.

I got a little choked up when I read her post, especially that quote.

I constantly struggle with the self-doubt demon. I’m not good enough, will never be good enough. Because of these thoughts, I’ve fought depression, and anxiety visits me every now and then.

In my worry and fear of failure, I forget to recognize that all the qualities that make me ME, that make me different, are reasons to celebrate.

Here I am. A writer. Admitting that is difficult. Writing that is difficult. Saying it is difficult. Because I’m not sure I believe it. I don’t think I ever will. I never set out to be a writer. It never crossed my mind until I was 31 years old.

I was an artist. As a kid, I drew, always. My art teachers encouraged me, said I had talent. This I believed.

I went to college for an art degree (though my mom nearly had a heart attack at this). I studied the fine arts, because illustrations with a unique artistic view would be cool. If I could find my own style, push myself to be an artist, then translate that into illustrations, that would be awesome! I would be happy.

However, in those classes, I wasn’t happy. I went from the best art student in high school to just some goober in college, a kid who knew nothing of art. When my painting teacher discovered that I wanted to be an illustrator, he told me that illustration is NOT fine art, that maybe I was in the wrong place. I panicked. I floundered in my classes, not having a clue what to do… not having a clue who I was as an artist (or a person). But I stuck it out. My teacher continued to preach that we should all go on to the MFA program to go on to show our work at galleries. All the while, I screamed silently. I had no desire to see my pictures hanging on some sterile white wall with people discussing them. I wanted to help tell stories. I wanted to add line and color to words to add to the worlds that existed in books.

When I look back, I can see the writer hiding inside of me.

~So many of my former sketches are characters. I not only drew them, but filled the edges of the page with words about who they are and where they live. Other drawings are scenes from stories that I had in my head. Stories spun through my head all the time, and I acknowledged them with art. I’ve been told my writing is visual, that people were not surprised to learn I was an artist.

~I’ve always been more of a sit in the corner and watch kind of person. I’ve always looked for all the strange things in life, noticing every detail from the subtle changes in the leaves in the fall to the way clouds can form messages in the sky. Go figure detail is one of my writerly “things”. I usually end up with too much and when I critique others’ work, I ask for MORE DETAIL!

~Depression has made me face the darker sides of the human mind and showed me the depth of emotions we are capable of. I like horror. I like to explore the darker side of our personalities, of the world. The darkness that clouds my mind allows me to do this. So, although it sucks, I wouldn’t erase the shadows in my head.

I did not come at writing by the “normal” route. That’s what makes my writing unique, makes it mine. Our lives, our experiences make us who we are and lead us to where we need to be, all the while painting us with lines of individuality, filling in our unfinished places with color to make us each works of art.

We should all go out into the world confident in our place, in our colors. When I look at my stripes, REALLY look at them, they are beautiful.

So are yours.

 

 

 

The Magic of Teenagers

Tags

change, faith, fear, hope, individuality, life, self doubt, teenagers, thoughts

I know. I know. What in the world can I possibly find magical about teenagers? But hang with me for a sec.

To say I hated being a teen would be a nice way of putting it. Really, being the awkward, quiet, weird kid, cowering at the back of the class trying to disappear, wasn’t ever a goal of mine, I was really good at it though. Serious self-doubt and low self-esteem … yes, that was (and still is) me. Kids called me names. I was certain there was something wrong with me. Why didn’t that portal open up and take me somewhere I truly belonged?

No, don’t blow up the balloons for the pity party! That’s just how it was.

Being a teenager sucks – standing at the edge of the cliff of life, gazing out at the world wondering how in the world you’ll find a spot in the chaos. To choose what to be, who to be. Teens face the biggest questions of life, their brains having no idea what to do with those questions. So teens try to find a voice, find themselves. In their search for independence, there will be eye-rolling and ‘attitude’ (a word a have a deep hatred of). Why do they stomp off and slam doors? Because they have no idea how to express the emotions in their spinning heads. They are trying to form their own opinions, say what’s on their minds, live life their own way, because they don’t want to be told what to do or how to think – and who does? They need to discover what works and what doesn’t on their own. Hello, mistakes! What a perfect time to make them! When parents are there to offer a helping hand and say, “Oops. Maybe try something different next time.” By the time they venture out into the world, they’ll be ready.

However, we adults might not.

Sending kids out into the world is scary. What if they make bad choices, end up falling into darkness? This fear can lead to control. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking about rules. Rules are different, rules are good. Control … telling them how to live. Encourage them to find their own way, because let’s be honest, we want then to move out! And never move back in! Surviving mistakes will give them confidence. Teach them to love themselves even though they make mistakes, even though they don’t fit in at school, because in the end we are who we are, and, maybe, not fitting in was just right. It was for me. If I had the chance to go back and tell teenage-me that being weird was okay, no better than okay … it was PERFECT, I wouldn’t go. One, I wouldn’t believe me being an obvious evil clone or shape-shifting alien. Two, being that girl brought me here and I LOVE it here. In the end we need to learn to accept ourselves and that takes time.

Being a parent isn’t about control. It’s about encouragement. It’s about acceptance. When they slam the door and roll their eyes, celebrate their need to be themselves and help them express their emotions. Don’t fear what the world will do to your child. Be excited about what your child can do for the world.

Being a teen isn’t about fitting in and being perfect. It’s about facing fear and finding a voice, which takes time, a bit of magic, and a lot of believing.

I write this because of my teen friends, past and present whose houses are filled with yelling. I wish I could change it with a wave of my magic wand. However, I promise to help you find the power to make your lives better. I dedicate this to the teens who think no one cares because no one listens. I honor all the parents who go day by day, trying to understand, to accept, but feel on the verge of running away. All families are different, all kids are different. My wish is for everyone to find the way life works best and live it fully. Life truly is magic, don’t let it get buried under frustration and unhappiness.

What can you do to make your life better? Or maybe the life of someone else.

 

To Be or Not to Be … Me

Tags

Being you, fiction, in-laws, individuality, life struggle, living life, thoughts, writing

Do you have a mask you present to the world? Are there moments when being you just doesn’t work?

For me … yes.

Does it suck?

Yes.

Sometimes smiling and nodding is easier.

I have returned from spring break. Every year we go to my parents’ house and then my in-laws. I have a great time visiting with my parents, my sisters, nieces, brothers-in-law! We laugh, we chat, we eat! Then we get to my in-laws …

Do you know the painting ‘American Gothic’? You know … the one with the old man and woman farmers with pitchforks? That would be my in-laws. No kidding. I put them in the category of opposite of me. They watch the news and discuss all the things wrong with the world. It’s a bit depressing really.

Blah.

I long to add sparkle and laughter, but whenever I try, they don’t hear it. I learned a long time ago that when they ask questions they want simple answers, no stories, no deep thoughts. So I tuck who I am away in my head and wait for them to address me. When they do, I give short answers. When my father-in-law goes on a rant about all the bad things I smile and nod.

They don’t know me. If I did say ALL THE THINGS, they wouldn’t like me. So I exist as their son’s wife, the mother of their grandkids.

Aaaaaand I’m pretty sure they think I should get a real job. Writing is not.

They don’t do fiction. They don’t read books. They don’t like art. They like the news and reality shows with way too much yelling where people chop down trees or hunt for gold.

They’ll never know …

The news depresses me. I am not interested in how many deaths have occurred because of swimming pools (we have a pool and they like us to know they are not fans), and most of all I don’t want to be covered in sad, dark thoughts.

They’ll never know …

I believe in fairies, magic, and ghosts. My mind is full of everything wondrous and creepy … ideas, stories, characters, and worlds. I can write, maybe not brilliant, but pretty darn good. I can draw too.

They’ll never know the real me. And that’s how it is.

They’re missing out on life by focusing on the negative. Sure, knowing me and all my quirks and opinions will not make their life complete, but they will miss the smiles and magic I share. So everything that really makes me me … stays hidden when I’m with them. I don’t want to be judged. I don’t want to be lectured.

I want to BE.

So around them I am a shadow of me. They have no idea what I think. They have no idea who I am.

They are missing all my awesome. I can’t share my wonderfully different view of the world with them because they can’t, or won’t, see it.

I am guilty of always saying … just be you! And I believe that. And now when I am finally really comfortable being me, I hold back at times. Maybe being me around people who just won’t get me isn’t worth it.

Anyone else wear a mask? Are there people who will never know who you really are?

The Magic of You

Tags

childhood, differences, fiction, individuality, magic, parents, writing

At my last writers’ group meeting I read the second chapter of my current WIP, my YA fantasy ‘Doors’. The Summit City Scribes is a pretty diverse group, and there are a few people who don’t read fantasy, like at all. (Shocking, I know!) At the end of my critique (which went very well) one of them turned to me and said, “I can’t believe you have this stuff in your head. I can’t even begin to understand how you think these things up.” (or something like that)

I stared at her in shock … surprise held my tongue. These ideas have always occupied my head. Why, for heaven’s sake, doesn’t everyone think this way? I forgot, as I always do, that not everyone has the same twisted ideas tumbling through their minds that I have in mine.

Isn’t it great? *flails* It is!

We go through life thinking, wondering, talking to ourselves (or maybe that’s just me). Every once in a while,we are reminded that what is perfectly normal to us is completely odd to someone else.

Our minds are set up differently each equipped with filters, as unique as we are. Ideas weave through our heads. The goings on of the world seep into our brains. Every idea, every subject gets sifted, sorted. Our filters catch some things and let others fall away into oblivion.

History, politics, or scientific principles, pretty much the straight and narrow, the workings of real life enter my brain, stay for a second, but get filtered out eventually. However, anything fantastical, magical, scary, or insanely weird are free to wander aimlessly through my mind forever. You’ll find a real shindig inside my head. My filters tilt to the side of wonky, possibly created from the wood of a Narnian tree, or exist in another dimension.

Our filters can’t hold everything. Our heads would explode. Only the ideas that add to our joy stay wrapped up safe in our minds. The magic of individuality.

Just as it should be. *sigh*

We’re born with our filters. However, our childhood … what we experience, how we are influenced, the people in our lives help shape them.

My mother showed me the magic of this world, the real world, as in nature and people, not the inner workings of the Government. Always hanging back, taking her time, she’d notice every bug, flower, and leaf. Mom would point out the marvelous wonder of the stars, the way the sun paints the sky at sunrise and sunset. The joy of friends and laughter, the wide world of all the things to try … sports, art, music, stories, places to go, and experiences to have. Thanks to her, I marvel at the change of the seasons, never willing to live where I don’t get all four. The Hallmark Channel entertains me (especially during the Christmas season) because my mom passed on her love of happy endings. Hence the existence of my girlie filter woven of a net of happy tears.

My dad introduced me to the magic of elsewhere. Never one to change the channel, even when an impressionable child wandered into the room, he exposed me to all things not of this Earth. A story of an evil, blood-sucking demon or a poison spitting alien offered up a dose of fear to the unwary. My sisters ran. I stayed, drawn to the world of fiction … fantasy, sci-fi, and horror. My filter held onto all of it. I’d settle on the couch and ask, “What’s this?” I met Dr. Who that way. I fell in love with the Enterprise and Galactica because I stumbled upon their magnificent images on the small screen. I couldn’t look away from ‘Poltergeist’ at the drive in – the killer clown doll becoming one of my greatest fears. Dad handed me my first horror book, ‘The Talisman’ by Stephen King and Peter Straub. Wow, did that send me down a dark road of fun, ending, of course, in The Twilight Zone, where the strange and unexpected could happen to anyone.

It’s obvious I was born to love these things, but my childhood world helped solidify who I am. As a kid, I drew strange creatures and people then create new worlds for them. Scenes from stories in my head would make it to the page. Most of my drawings disturbed my mom, but my dad always gave an approving nod. A tree, ruins, or the wind can give me fuel to create a world and the characters to live there.

All grown up, well, not quite, I see why the portal, taking me to the universe where I truly belonged, never opened. I am meant to share all my weird here. It is my purpose. One I love.

So when I read my chapters set on far away worlds to my writers’ group, I will forgive those who can’t help but picture somewhere on Earth (just like I will forgive those who don’t know every fact about Harry Potter and give me blank stares when I mention Dr. Who). The fantastical and strange just fall through their filters. And that’s okay. I don’t write for everyone. Mainly I write, I create for me. But I do like to share with others whose filters happily hold onto all the weird too. And please, if you have created other worlds I haven’t traveled to, then share with me! Of course, I end up jealous that I didn’t think of it, but I’ll live.

What does your filter catch, allowing passage into the twisting paths of your mind? Be glad its not the same as everyone else. Celebrate individuality … one of the best magics out there.