image{s} of the week

smiling eyes

camera: iPhone 4
setting: HDR enabled
behind the lens: Chris

I keep this photo of the Gataface Killah on my desk should I start to take myself too seriously.

Why I write

Preface: You all have been extremely generous with your encouragement and kind comments. Thank you, sincerely! Truly!! I couldn't help but notice that writing was cited as a reason why some of you like visiting LH. I also couldn't help but notice how shocked I have been to hear that. All of which got me thinking a lot about writing...

There has never, ever, been a moment in my life in which I longed to be a writer.

During high school, I loved photography and the school newspaper gave me a place to develop my photojournalism skills. Only you had to write. So I did. They gave me an opinion column junior and senior year. The first year my column was called, "Craziness," and the second, "Everyday is Monday." I hated having the entire school read my random thoughts about life because I was sure every person in the entire school was judging me, or worse, laughing at me. Chances are neither of those things happened as often as I surmised.

In college, research writing was my focus because it came with a formula and I knew that I could meet all points on a grading rubric. In research writing there wasn't a whole lot left to interpretation and, so long as I had the evidence to back up my claims, I could ensure I'd receive an A.

By the time graduate school rolled around, I had developed an intellectual inferiority complex likely due to being rejected by my top choice graduate school. I didn't trust my ideas anymore and, as a consequence, writing became even more difficult.

There was (and is) nothing more frightening than a blank Word document staring me in the face, mocking my inability to put together a coherent thought. I'd sit and peer at the monitor with a wide-eyed bewilderment. Actually, bewilderment is the wrong word, it was more like fear.

I'd write a sentence. Hit command+a and then delete on my keyboard. I'd reconsider, then hit command+z to bring back the sentence I had just deleted. I'd read it again, add some kind of clause or perhaps throw in a different preposition. I'd still hate it.

I performed that writing dance for entire days the first semester I was back in school. Writing had never come easily to me, that is true, but this paralyzing perfectionism I had developed was exhausting.

Toward the final weeks of the semester, my friend and classmate, Monica, started asking around the college for volunteers to write for our school newspaper, The Daily Nebraskan. She wrote me a Facebook message explaining that the DN was short opinion writers and wanted to know if I was interested. Who knows what the hell I was thinking, but I stepped up. And, just when I began to avoid her in the hallways so as to not have to write my first column, she cornered me and held me to my word.

The year I wrote for the DN was emotionally draining. I was certain, once again, that I would be judged and laughed at. My fears came true - I was judged and I was certainly laughed at. To my surprise, however, I didn't spontaneously combust when someone disagreed with what I wrote. It was good for me to learn how to shrug it off (among the insults hurled at me, my all-time favorite was "Houseplant Bolton").

I continued to stare at blank Word documents and wrestle with the fear of putting myself out there. Eventually, I began to see that I needed to write. It was important for me to wake up, put together an argument, and publish it. The fear never went away but that crippling perfectionism did. I found out that, should I read something I published a week prior and find it misguided or perhaps even idiotic, I ought to simply consider it progress and keep writing (that advice came from Monica too).

I started this blog in large part because I wanted to keep that going. That do-it-because-you're-scared-shitless thing, that's why I write. 

Please check out Fear.less magazine, if you haven't seen/read/heard of it! This month, in particular, was special because one of my favorite authors, Steven Pressfield, is interviewed.  Pressfield's book, The War of Art, is a must-read for anyone wanting to confront and overcome fears holding them back from publishing, creating, etc. 

Fear.less January 2011

WedWed - Wedding Wednesday {3}

Throw back to calligraphy

What do Cat Fancy, R.L. Stine, and Calligraphy have in common?

They were a few of my favorite things as a little kid: I had a subscription to Cat Fancy and used it to write my first research paper - it was on Siamese cats. My childhood cat, Rowdy, was a seal point Siamese. After reading the entire Goosebumps series, I graduated to R.L. Stine's Fear Street and, thanks to Twisted, chose to write my first psychology paper on multiple personality disorder. After school, supplemental classes were available for nerds like me. I chose Calligraphy and French, but found French to be boring. One Valentine's Day, I penned Shel Silverstein's poem entitled LOVE using turquoise ink and gave it to my Mom. She probably still has it somewhere...

image via me melodia.

Even if it has been over 15 years since I've picked up a fountain pen (or a Cat Fancy, or an R.L. Stine book for the matter!), I've decided that now would be a great opportunity to give calligraphy another shot (I'll pass on the other two, for now).

And, It just so happens that my absolute favorite book for DIY brides, Handmade Weddings by Eunice Moyle, Sabrina Moyle, and Shana Faust, has an entire chapter devoted to calligraphy!

Inspired by all the beautifully written invitation envelopes and escort cards, I purchased a Rotring Art Pen and a practice pad to get myself started. Turns out that calligraphy is much more difficult than I remember!

Notice how I was practicing my new name like a middle schooler? After the golden "R" incident, I figure I'd better start working on that too.

If you'd like to know more about Handmade Weddings, watch this trailer!

Blue Monday: making the most of toast

Making the most of toast.

Today, aka Blue Monday, was supposedly the most depressing day of the year. Chris brought this fun fact to my attention while we were working out at 8am as if I could have any less motivation. Whilst I rained sweat on the elliptical, I watched "Blue Monday" storm across the television as though it were December 2012. Newscasters described today as the day our resolutions begin to fall apart and the financial ramifications of excessive holiday shopping appear on this month's billing cycle. Yikes.

So, in order to ward off my inner Eeyore, I turned to "Make the Most of Toast," by Rebecca Ann Dolen. This quirky little picture book accompanied by two warm, buttery slices of toast turned this frown upside down. In fact, one slice happened to be one of those crusty, first/last slices of the loaf my Dad refers to as the butt. Didn't matter. It was delicious.

1. build a little toast house
2. protect hardwood floors

3. hide money
4. toast coaster

5. toast hat

If you need a little more perk-me-up tonight, check out the Regional Assembly of Text in Vancouver, BC where we bought the book (Ms. Dolen just happens to be a co-founder)!

image{s} of the week

Hanging peppers @ farmer's market

camera: Holga 120N
film: Kodak Portra 400NC
behind the lens: me