Artist Discovery

Arthur Rackham. I found him while looking up "famous illustrators". He did illustrations in the late 1800's and early 1900's for books like:

• Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm (1900)
• Rip van Winkle (1905)
• Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens (50 colour plates, 1906)
• Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (13 colour plates, 1907)

In all my ventures in looking for different artists, surprisingly, I had never heard of him, even though he illustrated such classics. His paintings are odd, but very appealing. I love how stark they are, and I'm always attracted to deep shadows matched with awkward creatures.

Samples

Last Saturday, after seeing a delightful flick at the theater (The Tale of Despereaux), my family and I all walked to Costco. It was coldest weather I have ever walked in. I think my face froze off.
Now, one of the many wonders of costco is the free samples which they provide. They make a simple trip to a warehouse filled with food-in-bulk into a treasure hunt of surprise to your taste buds, but, really, how important is it that you get that tiny bite of ravioli before that other guy? (or even at all)
As I said before, it was bitterly cold out, and there, the most appropriate sample could be found: hot apple cider. And there I waited. Not long, but I waited. Two, Three, Maybe Four people were in front of me. Now it was my turn, but before I had the chance to move, a vulture rose from the crowd and snatched my drink! MINE. He winked at me and said a snively "Thank you." to the one who was serving. I watched him slurp it down. He was at least in his late forties. He should have known the etiquette of waiting in sample lines.... I took the next tiny cup of cider, feeling shafted and stepped on.
This was a small moment which shows us the character of what we all could be. It makes me think of when people would pay to watch the Gladiators. For a small price, a person could have entertainment and free food. People would gorge themselves to the point where they would vomit. There were entire pits built merely for people's puke. I think this is the epitome of human greediness. They didn't know when to stop. Just like the kid who was in front of me that day who took three fine cheese samples when there were clearly at least six or seven other people waiting. It was completely thoughtless.
Tellemicus, a monk living during the period of the gladiators, felt that the Lord was calling him to Rome. When he arrived, he was shuffled into the Colosseum to behold the slaughtering. He had been living, sheltered in the mountains for most of his life, and what he saw disgusted him. He began running down the steps of the theater yelling "In the Name of Jesus Christ, Stop!" he began somewhat quietly, but grew steadily louder. Soon enough, his was the only voice heard. He was shot down by the guards, and with his last breath he said "In the name of Jesus Christ, Stop!" With the mention of this name, one person left, and soon enough, the Colosseum was empty.
Tellemicus was called to Rome to be killed for a great cause, to stop the murdering, and end the greed the Colosseum brought to people of all ages. His bravery, obedience, but even more, the Lord inside of him, brought the this end to an evil.
In our lives, we should obviously not yell at every person that cuts us off in line. Instead, lets be examples to the people, showing them who we serve by letting them go ahead. Show them why you are different. Show them your love with simple kindnesses.

E.M. speaks the truth.

I've been listening to Erwin McManus, the founder and pastor of mosaic church, as of late, thanks to my brother. His words feel like a well spring of inspiration. Everything he says is focused on finding your Future, your Dream, Yourself. Each week that I have listened to, he has told his listeners that they are a part of a plan bigger than themselves, that they are for the world around them, to be used as the Lord wills. As believers, they are the ones who should be the "greats" in the world, the ones to create new, beautiful things, the ones to accomplish huge tasks. Each of his messages brings forth a step to take. The most profound step so far, or at least the one whose information I contained the easiest, was on Adapting.
In this message, his main point was that you must have a strong core so that you may adapt to your surroundings, without losing the base of character that you are to have acquired. He used an illustration about an experience he had with pilates ,through which he had learned, that without a strong core, you have minimum flexibility.
Now, building strong character from the beginning of your life was an important point of his. The first 20 years of your life, give or take, are about Preparation and Execution, and if you do not learn these steps you will never complete the next stages of your life which involve Enduring and Adjusting. If the first two steps are not learned in high school and college, they must be re-learned later on, or failure is eminent. Enduring hardships and Adjusting to life's situations are very linked with the Preparation taken in strengthening your core, and the early Executing of those prepared skills.
Throughout his sermons, he refers to his community, which are mostly artists living in LA, but we ALL have dreams that need to be prepared for, executed, endured, and adjusted. If not, we need to find something, as he says, that would be good for the world at large. What is your life being lived for? Who are you becoming? How will that change the world?-Are just a few of the questions he asks.
I feel very young.
I am.
His questions make me ask, really, who am I becoming? What am I preparing for? I've always had this drive to become the most I could, to be a renaissance woman. I worry sometimes how well I can accomplish what I seek out to be with how much I don't know. Every day I'm alive I realize another thing I don't know, another field I have no business being in. It's humbling. I know I'll never reach the point where I know enough. It's a frontier that just goes on. A journey that doesn't end.
But I'll always be ready to take that on.
I know that.

Thanks, Erwin, for the pushes you give to step forward.

Santa: The Distraction

In this season, there are two people whom you hear the most about: Santa and Baby Jesus. Now, I'm glad that Jesus can be a part of this holiday, overjoyed in fact, but the main story of Christmas is His birth. That's it. People hear of this little baby that eventually became who knows what, but they don't hear anything about His Life, His Death, His Resurrection! People are missing out on the important parts! The real facts about who Jesus was and is.
This terrible Santa figure which people have insisted on forcing into children's minds to manipulate them into being good is the replacement for a father figure, for a God figure. He is the man whose lap children sit upon. They feel this mall-employee's warmth and "love" and they feel comforted. It's that protection that they want. He knows them for who they really are, and he loves them anyway. He listens to them and makes them feel like things will be alright. He wants them to be good, and they want to please him. Sound familiar?
During Jesus' life, he told the children to come to Him, sit on His lap, and feel His love. Santa is a poor contemporary replacement for something real. Sure, he is a fun game we play as children, but there is point where he overtakes the truth. He becomes a child's Jesus. Extreme. I know. A stretch? maybe.
But maybe not.
Throughout this Christmas season, let's try to look past the commercial sides of Christmas, even that momentary nativity scene, into Jesus' life. Roll out the big picture, Discover the real Christmas season, and Thank the Lord for his Gift to us all!

-abigail

Land

People portray their land. The mountains are always clouded, you cannot see far, and they are cluttered. People of the mountains can look as far as the nearest tree, and betond that, vision is impaired. As the shores collapse on you at one side, the mountains tower above you on another. Everyone is climbing for their own good, their own will to survive. Breathing is harder the higher you reach. Your judgment is clouded and you disperse into overwhelming thoughts that you have failed your climb to selfish success. Your few ill-equipped teammates drag you down. You've yet to acclimatize to their constant pulling on your strings, their need for your space, their thirst for your time and energy.
You summit. For a moment in time, you stand ethereal, like the great peak on which you rest. Your body aches and groans, but you grow with the knowledge that you are living and breathing and hurting. Yes, for a moment, you see beyond what you know.
Over the mountain there is another kind of land and people. Breaking out from the west, an expanse lies before you, and the skies are clear. Save a few dry trees and broken fences, there are no flaws in the landscape, and nothing is hidden from sight except the rolling hills, too far for our eyes to see. The people are like their land. They hide nothing. The bitter cold and the blazing hot are directly connected with their need to produce life, to sustain generations, to build red roads leading to higher glories. The land is plain and the horizons are broad. The people think not merely on the now, but the eventual someday. The land will see another spring. It always does. As earnestly they broke, years before, what they value most, they learned the reality of what the weather can bring. They respected the higher power. They embraced it. They do not fear it. Their plain look on black thunderheads, which would be your doomsday, is a shrug and a firm planting of the feet. If it takes them down, none can stand against it.
You, walking beyond your foothills, find the expanse clearing to your mind. You can breath again. You can speak again. For a little while, you embrace the greatness of emptiness. You lift your head to the hot sun. Let it bake you like it has the mud on your boots, but when the shear howling wind seems to roar in your ears and the amber waves seem to swallow you up, you wish to take your lead feet and run for the highlands. You reach for something near to cling to, a bough to cushion your blow. Every emblem of your green sea is a reminder of home, of the cleaning sensation a shower can bring, the pleasure of a cool sun. You remember that you are the person of your land.
Much is learned from the expanse, and the People are like their lands, you know. Yet as you see your great cliffs standing defiantly above you, and you feel your green grass, cooling your burns, you realize you are like your land, heavy with deep forests and tall peeks. You will stand tall. You will cool wounds. You will reach for the heavens, ever wanting more.

Creativity

The Ancient Greeks said that inspiration for art comes from the Muses. Any creative work that is greater than yourself or, at least, what you believe you are capable of, comes from a higher power. I can definitely understand why this was believed. The way a piece of music or art can inspire you and spur you on to emotion and great works is something altogether other worldly. How is it that a melody can move the soul? No man made device could bring about such an act. The times when something is not only coming out of you, but it is moving through you. This has to be God-given. It is a gift from our Creator.
I have always connected with David. He was a man after God's own heart, and he embraced the talents the Lord gave him. In all frustration and appreciation, he gave it to the Lord through his art form. I just hope, that through my daily life, I can do what the Lord wills, and do what He gave me to do, as David did.
Does it seem that if someone is doing what the Lord wants, but it is not to the status of a Doctor of Lawyer or some other job of great respect (which is wonderful if it's what you are meant to do), that they are undervalued and left in a feeling of failure?
My mother has a quote that she says often that I would love to relay. "Whether it's raising the dead or going fishing, the pay is the same."
It makes me sick what guilt people put others through if they are pursuing what they love. Butt out and let the Lord do His work! As long as you are in the His will, it is a noble deed you are doing.

A Noble Mission

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xgitQ9KOFOE&feature=related
(The scene is about two minutes in. it is short. )

In the movie (and I'm guessing the book, even though I have not read it) Mansfield Park, one of the characters is spoken of as wanting a noble mission. He would say to his father in his childhood days "Please, Father, give me a noble mission." I have ever identified with this character's thought. A noble mission. Not an impossible task, but something graspable and real. A Noble Mission. This career I am set on, no matter how much I love it, has never really felt like a noble mission. Art, although it can and I am the first to say it could, does not usually carry with it a burden of greatness. That is why I have become interested in the politics of our time. I love to paint and work with my hands, but I love to learn and ponder and debate! Politics seems to be a noble mission. It is a calling, I believe, just like being a pastor or going to war. Many hate it. I thrive on it. The very thought of change and reform and direct influence on everybody! wow... Although It may only lead to many a good argument and a few Political Science courses, it could lead to so much more! Like saying "Goodbye ,Gregoire....!" ;)
Thankfully, as a Christian, there is always a noble mission for one to strive for, to serve the Lord and spread the Word to His people. His Wisdom is always available and His Love is ever present. I thank Him that even in searching for a mission, he has a plan for our lives, something more intricate then our little minds can plan.
Psalm 37 tells us to not fret and that the Lord will take care of it all.
Thank you Lord for not leaving us alone to fight it out for ourselves.

Quick Thought.

Here is something I love: My father does construction, and on his sites, sometimes there is no paper to write upon. He also get calls all (and I mean ALL) the time. Numbers must be written down. Therefore, ever so often, my father will come home with a piece of torn card board with someones name and a phone number written on it. Occasionally, on days such as this, a large block of wood is used in the card boards stead.
The block is on the dining room table.
That is what I love.

Mad Hatter Tea Party!

Oh, the night was grand! I did drink a bit of tea and the food was delightful, but the best part was all the people there. Highlighted conversations included Kris Riggio, Mary Harris, and Jamie Spiro. Kris told a few of his wonderful adventures in Europe. This was the first I had seen of him since the day before he had left. It was good to see him. Mary Harris, whom I had had a small (very small) conversation with a year before at the Spiro 80's party, Lisa, and I had a brilliant talk about simply everything. Jamie's stories are told so well, I never mind hearing them again and again.
I wish that everyone would dress like we all did at the party all the time. It was funky. brave. unabashed by what others would think. Nobody cared about protocol with their clothing. And I liked that.

I thought of something this week. I don't know where else I could say it, so I'll say it here:

Inspiration to constriction: The Arts to Mathematics
Even in these polar opposites, is there a parallel?
The Answer: Perspective
Isn't this poetically just?

With that, I bid you adeu.

Fun with Baby Showers and Fire Stations

Yesterday was Tynaea's surprise baby shower, or should I say Dominic's shower. He is such a cutie and everything he got is going to be adorable on him. I got him a little hat and a jean jacket with sherpa lining that got that particular "aaawwww" factor I was hoping for. I hope I get to see him wear it someday.
My mother came with me. It was the first time that she had gotten to be with all my friend's mothers at the same time. I was glad that it went well. I didn't really expect less, but I was glad for the easiness of the night.
Around 8:00 almost all the moms went home, and Lauren, Hannah, Lisa, Amber, Amber's mom, Abbey, Amanda, and I played a delightful game of signs. Tynaea and Quang stayed for bit as well. After a little while Abbey and Amanda, and Amber and her mom went home.
Lisa picked up her friend Emily who spent the night at the house as well. She is a nice girl. Very pleasant. We then watched Dick and Jane, after which L-monster and I went to "bed" where we got hardly any sleep at all.
The next day we went to paint the fire station. Mina and I had a lovely time painting the walls and each other in the fire station hallway, where many a handsome fireman did walk through. Such a lovely Fire station.
I slept for three hours when I got home. I didn't mean to, but it just happened. I was so tired.
Oh! Andrew played at Starbucks and he said that it went well. Speaking of that, Heidi and Spencer are going to be on the Bonnie Hunt Show. How happy is that?
Another thought, Erin Hanson's Mad Hatter Party is coming. I'm so excited and I'm going shoe shopping with Lisa this week for it.

Certainly was an organized entry for a little while there.........
signing off.
-abbie

Party and Down time

Well, The mustache party was excellent, and awhile ago. I wore my black dress, silver shoes, and a lovely little mustache called the "con artist". I talked with all sorts of people I hadn't seen in ages and this time, I felt like more than the "little sister" which I had felt like years prior. No fault to my siblings. I was just young.
Croquet at Lisa's with Hannah and Lauren was also fun. I won the first round and left but one alive. We played the "poison" version. Lisa, of course, I couldn't get. Blast that luck. I was doing so well too. Truthfully, I hadn't liked the idea of being poison in the first place. I hate making people lose, losing, and winning. At first, I didn't really try. Then I got lauren out.... I thought I liked it. When it came down to the last, I started feeling bad. I always do. I didn't try as hard, even when I got hannah out. I should never play games. I get distracted and, oddly enough, emotional. I feel bad about everything I do to win, or I feel stupid for losing.
But I hate to watch.
The past few days I've been working steady and becoming more politically minded. I did school all day Friday, started a book and a painting, and watched the Vice Presidential Debate. I've decided I'm a republican. And I support McCain and Palin pretty equally. I have a lengthy shpeal (or however you spell it) on why, but thats much to write for now. If you really want to know, I will tell you. I'm excited for the next debate. It's already set to record.

On a different note, have I said how great texting really is?

90's party

Saturday was a great day.
Redemptive, Fun, and Radical. Dance parties make everything better.
Lisa and I went to alderwood mall first and we both bought shirts from the lovely urban outfitters. We made it through two stores and a meal in 2 and a half hours. not much progress but lots of good times.
Erin and Julie accompanied Lisa, Stephanie and I to Stephanie's house where we changed for the party. Stephanie ratted my hair and made me look frightfully 80s/90s. I did win the honorable mention for best outfit. That was a proud moment.
I'm not feeling very descriptive tonight, but I will say that the dancing was great and I'm a little sore.
Lisa stayed the night. I didn't get my the average amount of sleep but 7 hours was fine.
I drew a bit today. It's nice to get back to the sketchpad.
See ya.

-Abbie

Work,work,work

I worked alot today, about 8 hours not including breaks and such.
I watched Obama's acceptance speech and half of McCains. I read multiple articles on both parties. That was for Government and Economics.
I also dropped a class today. Algebra. And therefore I'm taking on Algebra and Geometry at home. Alone.
Well, not alone, but nobody at my house was able to help me with it. I figured it out on my own, But Lisa said she would help some more later. x+3x=5 was the equation, which is very simple. But part of it was not and it made the whole thing harder. Why the answer was what it was is what I'm wondering.
I read the first book of the Iliad. I have a quiz on it tomorrow.
Since I dropped the class, I will be riding to school with Gabriel Bishop. I may ride with a JW family a few times as well. Getting rides with people is humbling. I never used to bum rides with people, but last year the need arose and I had to succumb. Thankfully, most people are gracious in the matter.
Driving will be a wonderful advantage someday. Although, I'm worried how well I shall do.
I did archery today, and I realized, after a long break, I'm a rather good archer. Not great. But good. I could provide for people through my bow skills if neccesary.

Well, more tomorrow. I teach guitar. Pray that it goes well.
Thanks yall.

Holding on to Summer

Today was a good day.
I usually have mixed feelings for the first day of school, but not today. Today I didn't have that haunting sense that this was the end of all my fun. All day was a hop and a skip and a silly joke to something good. It could on account of the day before which reason I cannot explain was rather melancholie. Therefore, today was a release of tensions and divine in that.
My schedule for Tuesdays and Thursdays is as such:
9:00am- Algebra
10:00am- Language Arts
11:00am- Japanese 3, Conversations
12:00pm- P.E
12:30pm- Lunch
1:00pm- Free
1:30pm- Guitar Lesson
2:00pm- Painting
3:00pm- Freedom
It feels like alot but written down it really doesn't seem like much. It just takes so long.
My favorite class times are in Japanese and Guitar. In Japanese there is alot of laughing, seeing as though there are only three student and we are all friends and the teacher is funny. Not the joke kind of funny, but as a person, she's is a nice funny. I said something today that made her laugh harder than I have ever seen her laugh before. I felt accomplished.
Guitar is great because I love guitar. Plain and simple. My new teacher is a rocker. He's nice and I think excited to be working with me, as I am with him. Another teacher came in during my lesson to set something up. Afterwards she came up to me and told she really enjoyed listening. I believe she taches piano. She asked me if I ever and thought about playing the keyboard. I answered with a round-about "no". I think about it but it's hard to followthrough.
Anyway, when I said that, she said "Well, yes, I can see that your guitar is an extension of yourself." And she is right. It's how I deal with life in general. I constantly struggle with this because, since I feel this way, shouldn't I become a musician? I don't want it to be my career. I love writing music and if the chance fell upon my lap I would consider becoming a famous pop-artist, but I love to paint and draw. I love everything about it.
You see the difference between guitar and painting (besides a few very obvious facts) is this:
Guitar and music, to me, is emotion itself flowing into something. It is driven by emotion. And that takes considerable thought and energy to produce a work sufficiantly.
Painting and Drawing is my escape from emotion. It takes me out of where I am, into something somewhere else. There are steps and it takes time and skill, but it's what I love and what I think of most beyond people.
Yet sometimes I wonder if I am right in the path I want instead of taking the path everyone else seems to put me on.
I pray about it alot.

After school I went to the park with Lisa, where we met Brittney, Hannah, and Lauren for some croquet and football. It was a good time. Hannah, Lauren, Lisa, and I all went to IHop afterwards. Lauren and I shared a stuffed frenchtoast. Afterwars they all came over to my house to eat cake and ice cream and watch "Stranger than Fiction".
It was good day.

P.S. I got unlimited texting and was taught how to use T9. I've been texting like crazy and, honestly, feel more loved with every text I get.

Summer Sum-up

Well, I am inconsistent. One post and then no more for 7 months. ah well. Now is the perfect time. It's 1:10 am.
I have a had a frightfully exciting summer. I've learned more about people in the last 4 months then I have in at least the last 4 years. Goodness. It's been heartbreaking at times or maybe just heart-wrenching.
To start, I went to Minnesota and my heart was very heavy. So much worry. Too much.
Thankfully in Minnesota there was different worry. It was mostly children. Worry isn't good in general, but it's always good to have variety. Slowly, over lots of driving and contemplating, my heart grew lighter and more adapt to unfeeling conditions. Still, there was minimal sadness when we had to leave. I was glad to be going home to my friends.
Two days of driving led to a week of camp. Oh, how I love jumping from excitement to excitement! Man, was camp an experience. For the first time, a boy voiced the fact that he liked me. That he liked me alot. I was scared to death. Of course, I told him nothing could come of it but a friendship. I knew what my family would say and I didn't know how I felt about him. It was too much for me. He was 18, adopted, very strong, and quirky. What a combo, huh?
He texted once after camp, and then accidentally e-mailed me. Nothing more. At least it's doubtful at this time.
Three more weeks until school. I am filling up on everyone's freetime that will dissipate on September 3rd. Lisa and I have been going all over, and yesterday we spent the night at Hannah's house. Still, by the beginning of school, I'm afraid I'll be lonely, but there is much work to be done! and people to meet and be with and appreciate! So I go in peace for tonight.
Signing off,
-Abbie

Time

My goodness! I never thought I would start a blog. I mean, I never read them, so why write one? Even the term "blog" never appealed to me. Blog. It sounds like "Bog" or "Wump" (well not the actual sound, but you know.). Why would I want to update my "wump"? Well, I dunno. Mostly because Stephanie told me I should.
Anyway. Today I was thinking about time. How time passes. What it is. Is it "bendable". And I say no. Time travel is not possible. Time is more a theory than a force. It's not like gravity. You can't defy it in any way. People may think it's kept sort of as a "blanket" on the universe. Just lift the cover and you are set. No. That's not how it work. Eternity is a thought. And our revolutions and spins merely measure the thought, the theory of time. If Superman spun the early backwards, he wouldn't save Lois, he would merely cause terror to the planet. Waves would come over place like Texas and Mongolia. And what about the moon in that whole scenario.
No. Time is not graspable. I just hope for the day that I don't have to live by it's unavoidable laws.
Until then, I'll post here.

Sincerely From the Mountain,
-Abbie