A Romanticized Visit to the DoL

As the sky did what my eyes could not, my feet clapped against the wet ground in what seemed like sheer disappointment. My hoodie hid the shame in my face as my phone pressed against my ear. A dial tone was the only sad song I wanted at the moment. Ms. Carpenter could wait on this rainy day. As I walked beside the road, each car sent a mocking rumble my way, and, passing the bus stop, I was reminded of my present predicament of Immobility, Dependency, and Inadequacy. Although, the word which rang in my ear, and eventually out my mouth, was an overused, yet sadly appropriate term for this occasion.
Failure.
Epic fail, as my contemporaries would articulate. A defeat or fiasco, as others would express. I prefer my choice of vocabulary.
Failure, standing on it's own feet, drives the thought of failure home, just as I could not.
Hello... How'd it go? Bad. I failed.
There it was again, echoing through my tunnel of thoughts, breaking out the archway of my mouth. I hated admitting my shortcoming. My bubble had been burst, or more appropriately, my tires had been sliced. They had been sliced by the knife known as the Department of Licensing, and the wheels were mine to replace.
I could use the excuse of quiet headphones, of difficult language, of someone else's mistake. I could say all the world was against me. I'm an American, right? I have the rights and privileges handed down from my countries' founding fathers to blame my problems on anyone else that I so choose!
Well, It was my fault.
I gotta go. Oh, Love you too. No, I'll be fine... Bye.
Now. Now was when I needed to take advantage of the roundabout in front of me, and flip my failure around! I bought a cookie. I drank coffee. I ate chocolate. I decided that the road to victory could still be close at hand, and I would give it a good, fighting chance!
I did.


Now, I hold my driving permit, ready and fit for freedom.


-"Failure is a detour, not a dead-end street." - Zig Ziglar

The Start!

"I am a lone reed
Standing tall
Waving boldy
In the corrupt sands of commerce..."

Tomorrow isn't mine
This year isn't for me
My life is in another's hands.
I realized this year working at Lakeside that the days I have are not mine, they are the Lords, and I am his to use. Nothing I do should be for me, and as I step out into this new journey, I want the Lord to use me for his work. Of course, I'll be working hard, earning good grades (hopefully), and focusing on the tasks ahead, but I will be going out knowing there are lost people where I am. I want to be an influencer for the people. I will not be going to this school for my benefit, but to truly stand out in the academic sands and wave boldy the fact that I care for the other students, the teachers, and the workers, more than for furthering myself, because the Lord cares more for their hearts.
Pray for this year.
Pray for their hearts.

-abigail

Here is a small poem...

For there is too much to be said if I said it all:

"Oh,The feeling of New."

My life is like spring and shoes without scuffs.
It's like a blank canvas. It's a blossoming love.
My life is a flower, barely clearing the earth.
And I grow in the Lord, knowing life's worth.

TCL! Woo!

Leaving for TCL in the morning. It's 12am and I haven't packed anything. Lisa is coming to help me, so I should be alright.
I feel like last week has finally caught up to me, and I am tired. I'll be lucky if I get to bed by 2.
Should be a great three weeks!
My advice for you all.
Be good. Be careful. Be Brave
-abigail

Ah... the thrift store

I'm getting ready for tcl and I found some must-haves at our trusty goodwill. So exciting. I got some pants to work in, a sun glasses case from the disney animal kingdom, Sarah Harmer's (my forever fave artist) cd I have been looking for, the coolest celtic pouch ever, and a very special pair of shoes.......
When I was about 8 years old, I loved spiderman more than anything, but I hated buying shoes. They never fit right. They either slipped around or were too tight or were just REALLY ugly. But one day I found the perfect shoe...
It was Tough.
Sleak.
Fast.
And it had webbing.
These were the coolest shoes ever.


I had them in all black with white webs!
3.99$ and they are mine again
I fell in love again.
Same shoes. My size. Same Peter Parker attitude.

I think the Lord knew I was not doing well in the heat (100 million degrees. I swear.) and I was stressing too much, because he brought me good things today. Along with my thrifty purchases, a free vivanno and an upgrade to a venti ice tea came from my second home- Starbucks.

Oh, thank goodness the Lord loves me.

My Oh My.

Here I am. Tan, bruised, scraped, battered, and all together exhausted.
I think back on the last week and I'm "quite speechless, yes, quite speechless, and I have not yet stopped talking about it since."- Ms. Bates

This week at Lakeside Bible Camp was exactly what it had to be. Every part was so put together (by the Lord, I'm sure.) and sogood for me, but If not for certain people being there, including all my siblings, I may not have held up well.
Sometimes things hurt.
On the inside. it hurt.
On the outside. It hurt.
Camp is a training ground for dealing with people. For almost a week, one is completely enveloped in nine other peoples lives, all girls in my case. Every emotion, every scrape against the grain, every discomfort is felt so intensly. But I am so thankful for all of it! As from every year at camp, I learned to be more patient, caring, and respectful than I had been before. What a glorious place to learn and grow!

Ten High notes of Camp:

• My cabin leader and lovely friend, Erica. I needed her this week. It's like we strangely knew one another quite well right away. I love her to death.
  

• Talks on the dock with Emily while she "worked." ;)
  

• Good earth tea, brought to me by Cassidy. What a sweetie.

• The Clown Costume Burning. What's going on?

• "Let me."

• Bible teaching from John Glock. So many verses, so many delicious words of the Lord!
  

• Prom night. Ah-ha. Tyrell, what a lovely date you were.

• Lisa's face when I needed encouragement.

• Sunshine all week!!!

• At least 6 people I know of getting saved for the first time, Learning through difficulty, And the Lord knowing what he is doing!!! (3 in 1. I know)

What a week!

Six days now until I leave for tcl. I don't quite know why I'm leaving or what I'm doing. I think I'm crazy to ask for more. Start praying for me now.

Peace be with you.
-abigail

I'm going through the wardrobe...

to Lakeside Bible Camp,
a dear place in my heart.

It happened in Medford

I never touched my Ipod.

We never watched one movie.

We never went to bed at a reasonable hour.

It wasn't the water that made the trip.
It wasn't the dutch bros.
It wasn't the oddities of the vortex.

It was our lovely hosts:

It was the joy of beholding the seldom seen:

But most of all, it was my dear friends:

Off on a real adventure!

In seven hours, I leave for a five day Oregonian Road Trip with four other girls. We will be "adventure boating," river rafting, water sliding, and water-falling. "You only live once." said my very wise friend. I'm going to make the best of this trip.

Soy nuts, chocolate, and via packs?
Check.
Ipod, compilation CD's, notebooks, and sketch pad?
Check.
My clothes, money, and excitement?
Check-checkity-check.

Camera might not work..... let's hope it does! I have confidence in sunshine.... ;)

Lastly: Thank you LORD (and my dear mother) for this one!
Stories are on the rise.
Have a great week!

-abigail

I think spiders are beautiful

Have you ever looked at one? Really looked at a spider?
When I was about 12 or 13, I was still quite fearful of spiders. I made my sister kill them whenever I saw them, I would hide if I knew one was near, and I played the scared, screaming girl quite well. But with every thing that I have ever feared, I have felt the insatiable need to conquer that fear, from eating overly odd foods to pulling the release chord from a 70 foot drop. I feel defeated if I stay afraid.
So, one day as I was searching for a specimen to draw, I decided a spider would be perfect! I picked up a small arachnid from outside and let it scramble all around my hand (I don't believe the little ones bite. Have you ever seen one bite?) I studied it for a long time, and I thought it was gorgeous! I still wonder often what the oblong shapes are that are in their transparent legs...
From that day on, I really haven't feared any spider, not even the black widows I encountered in Mexico. There is something beautiful to be seen in how each living organism functions and is designed. True, spiders have a somewhat frightening appearance (and they can be deadly), and perhaps my fascination is a little odd. But isn't it better to have a lack of fear, than an needless abundance?

Shoe down the River

I believe a journey is awaiting me. I'm on the wings of an adventure. Tail feathers ready for lift off...
Just a week or so ago, I went tubing down a river. Higher than it had been the year before, it traveled faster. At one point, our four tubes, which were tide together, hit a tree root coming off the bank. My foot was caught, and I was whisked off of our safe floating cluster into the cold water.
For a moment I held onto a nearby branch, the water rushing past my face. My shoe had been ripped off. I searched the water for it.
I had to let go. My friends yelled to me. "Get back on the raft! The shoe doesn't matter!"
I swam to them, only a moment later, seeing my Keen just a few feet away, I clammored back for it.
With terribly bruised knees and a cold foot, I came back to my tube. "How can you be so calm?" One of them asked.
I had the shoe. Why should I be otherwise?

It's the little adventures that make things worth it.

Done. Seen. Sold.

Tuesday at 11:00am this painting was sold to Mr. Gray for decoration in his English class.
100$ "Ishmael and Queequeg" inspired by "Moby Dick."
This painting will forever represent the end of an era for me.
10 years I've been in the same place. Yesterday was my last day.
2 years I've had a consistent run of people and activities. Yesterday was the beginning of a breaking mold.
I made a mistake recently. I've made many. I'll make others. This one counted more.

At the same time, this was a learning experience. Every bit. My course is laid out, yet mysterious. I shall go out, create, and discover. I invite you to join me.

So close!

I've been working on a painting for weeks now. It's amazing when you are doing a portrait, and for the longest time it looks like nothing but forms and colours- blurs. But today both my characters became "people." I think it comes with the eyes. They are the windows of the soul, after all.
The painting is of two main characters from "Moby Dick", Ishmael, who is really not described in physical form at all, and Queequeg, an over described (if you know Melville) native man. The two become very good friends. They are tied to one another. Kindred.
This is the first painting I have done that shows a really good likeness to a familiar face. I've done paintings of myself and a few other people, but none of them looked right. They didn't have that spark of "Hey, I know you." This one does.
I'm so excited to finish. It'll be done, photographed, and sold by next week. I'm sad to see it go so quickly.
For all the toil and trouble it brings, painting this makes me know I'm heading in the right direction. This is what I need to do for life. I feel a great pull for it, and there is nothing else I'd rather pursue.

To Dream as Tasha

I believe I wear my dreams on my sleeve. My heart I can hide. My face can hold the furrows and frowns down, yet my dreams are everpresent. They resonate in all that I do, often more than they should. The things that rile me are like diesel for my engine. I begin to rumble and soon enough my only desire is to move. Get things done! Design something better! Start your own! Make your own!
Dream.
Sadly, my motivation is often crumpled by disbelief in my own ability. I know I can learn and do all that I dream, yet even the thoughts of time and energy slow me down to a stop.
Blasted procrastination.
Enthusiasm loses touch with purpose. Too often, my dreams stay around the general area of my mouth, sometimes making their way to the pencil.
This is when I look to others for inspiration. We all need the success stories people have to tell.

Tasha Tudor, an illustrator who recently passed away, made life exactly what she dreamed. When first attempting to publish her illustrated book, she visited every publishing company in New York. Nearly all of them turned her "quaint little pictures" down. All except one. Her illustrations are now loved and seen by many. Depicting an older, yet beloved times, her art has become a staple of children's illustration.
She not only painted a late 19th century time, she lived it. Raising cows, chickens, goats, and little corgys, weaving and making her own clothes, and being mostly self sufficient into her 90's were all things she accomplished while still managing to remain a working artistic icon.
She was who she dreamed to be.

Now, I believe she was rather selfish. She lived alone. She did what she wanted. She was whatever she wanted. She was not open to anybody but a select few, and she often was unaccepting of people
Even still, I admire her.
Through her art she impacted. Through her life she inspired.



















I hope that many, including myself, can learn to dream as she did, yet live beyond ourselves so that we may serve a greater purpose.

I went to Starbucks today,

and there, because it is my birthday, I was going to order an espresso truffle to celebrate.
The lady in front of me inquired, "Who is the birthday girl? Because I would like to buy her drink."
Magic exists.
Expect greatness, and somewhere, you will surely find it.

I had a wonderful day-
especially after that.

Media

One of my favorite movies of all time is "African Queen" starring Katherine Hepburn and Humphry Bogart. Little did I know, when I first saw the movie, that Katherine Hepburn was Spencer Tracy's mistress for many years. Or that her brother killed himself while playing "make believe" with Katherine when they were young because they felt it was so real. Or that she didn't talk for months after his death, and her only escape was finding that make believe world once again in acting. Of course, all this really doesn't make me love her movies any more or less. I adore her art form, and although her life is intriguing, I enjoy her for what she presents on screen.
Thinking back to that time, there was not near the amount of paparazzi to capture all this gossip from her life that there would be now. Many actors' lives were kept much more private. What mattered was who they were on the screen and how beautiful they made life appear. While letting all guard down on stage and film, pouring their emotion into their fake lives, they could live less vulnerably off set, without being barraged by innumerable cameras.
Oh, how things have changed.
I had always thought that it was a "normal" happening for actors to be attacked by the media at all times. Because it is so rampant, I merely thought it was part of daily life for most actors, yet fifty years ago, this was not the case! There weren't 100 rag magazines telling you lies about every Hollywood marriage that was failing. It simply wasn't done.
Then it hit me. This is a sick addiction we have. We are obsessed with the people we know nothing about. How could this go on? We love the art people create, the stories they tell. Their faces are what we see. The characters they become entice us. They are beautiful, charismatic, and often brilliant. Yet, They are artists, not showcases. Why can't we embrace the stories they tell, and leave their lives a mystery? Must the author be read as much as the book?

a rift, a raft

Do you ever feel like an Island? You are just one person unable to touch those around you?

Or are you more of a raft afloat at sea, trying desperately to run aground, but you can't reach the islands because all they know how to do is be alone?

I wish things didn't have to be either way.

Are we all islands to somebody?

This upcoming school year, I will be going to school and doing things that are really completely new to me. Nothing will be the same. That might sound like an exaggeration, but it's not. I'm changing schools, the people I see most are graduating, and my schedule will be greatly altered. I never thought I would really be afraid of something new. I try new things all the time. I love new experiences! And so far, I have fought my way into new places with ease (to some degree), yet I'm still scared. As Keane says "Everybody's changing and I don't feel the same."
I have lived in the same house, gone to the same school, attended and worked at the same church my entire life. Major change has never come my way. Now, it is waiting at my doorstep, and I am constantly in knots over the future.
Through all this, I feel like everything around me is untouchable. I can't grasp on to the people and places I know. I am a raft, and oh, how I wish I weren't at sea, chasing the white whale.
Stagnant waters are dangerous. You can't drink from them, and the only things that grow from them are bacteria and fungus. We all must head into the current, dive deep, and avoid the rocks and eddies along the way. We all must take on our challenges.
I hope I'm a strong raft.

That Face

When I decide to paint somebody, I always look for the face that says who they are. I often times watch people specifically to find that one look, whether it is disgust, curiosity, or just a quirky smile. Besides tone, temperature, and overall makeup of a painting, I try to bring that person to life in the picture (Well, obviously). In a way, I want their personality to scream out of the painting.
I find it easier to see these "character faces" with older people. Maybe it is because they themselves already have an idea of who they are. Maybe it is because they have more lines.
This was just one of those faces.
Comical. Oblivious. A bit Sad.
Perfect.

I did this painting last year. I didn't get to spend much time on it, so I would like to do it again someday.

Black and White

Today, I finally felt like spring was nearly here. I know we have another month left, and green foliage has not yet completely invaded our landscape, or even crept into view beyond our evergreens, but I could feel it coming on. The sun was shining and the birds were singing. It was warm.
In the northwest, we rarely get a real winter. It rains through most of the winter months and everything stays green for the most part, but this year, we were lucky enough to experience a white winter, if only for a few weeks. The drawing I've done was inspired by the biggest pine tree located near my house. It's black and white. You could say that besides having the appearance of winter, it is representing winter. People who live in this season see only in black and white. There is a symbolic "noir" type of theme, as Answer.com defines as "tough, cynical, and bleak." Winter is dark. One quarter of the year may be black and white and non-negotiable, like certain issues of doctrine and morals, yet there are three other seasons full of color and diversity! There is always a new way to experience creativity, friends, jobs, and life in general. Things cannot be black and white. Sometimes, color beyond the grey areas must be embraced.
Winter is a blanketed season, and whether by clouds, snow, or ice, detail is covered by winter and color is left by the wayside. In that, Spring and Winter fear each other for what they are. Winter's walls are melted by the coming of spring, yet the power of Winter closes in on Spring, giving it no room to breath or create.
Even so, a year is made up of four seasons, and it takes all types of people to bring growth and renewal to the world. With the coming of a new time comes a promise of new thoughts and a new light.
Now, I implore you, brace the Spring time, remember the Winter, but give people room to breath in what may be held lightly.

A Post for All Parties. Politics: Love/Hate

I haven't said much about my politics, but I do not feel I should share the party I have chosen over this media as of yet. Ask me in person, and I will gladly tell you how I feel.
We all have different views on things, and goodness knows, we are all wrong in one way or another. Let's face it. Not one of us has all the answers, and none of us should. It seems that it is better to be proved wrong in a group of friends, than alone and always right. A person should always be open to the fact that he is not perfect, but neither is anyone else.
In politics, I have noticed an incredibly immovable, closed minded attitude in almost anyone you talk to, besides those who "don't care" (which is really their way of not getting into conflict. They probably care). The reason is, I think, is because the government is directly related to all of us. We all feel what our government does, whether they hire our family members to fix roads, or they take our homes and land, whether they give us money and food to live, or they tax us 50% of our income. We all like to think it's all about us. The things the government does should be all for and about us, right? We the people!
Yet, do we have to be malicious? I have heard people say they "hate" a certain politician. What in the World? They literally "hate" people they have never met and all they have heard about a certain person is what the media puts out, and they deliberately slander that person in public. I may not agree with certain people, but I would never say I hated them. "Out of the heart, the mouth speaks" and hate is a strong word. Whether it be Sarah Palin, Joe Biden, or Al Franken, let ours words not carry us away. We don't hate these people. We may disagree with them. We may think they are "stupid" as we so indignantly say. But I've heard the phrase "I hate Bush." too many times for comfort.
I was raised with the fact that to "hate" means to "want to kill." It's a vile term.

We should love instead. Love is stronger, and Justice, in a way, is Love as Law being carried out. Because our Founding Fathers loved the American people around them, they established democracy, rules, law enforcement, and courts. They wanted their people to be safe, and because of the morals they stood by, they believed the people would be kept safe. Because the Lord loved us first, He gave us free will, Fellowship with Him, and the His commandments, so that we may be safe on this sin filled world.
Now, sadly, everyone is wrong about something. Certain things which are truly wrong, are not "wrong" to other people. In their point of view, nothing is wrong which is not a crime. This is a skewed view. Most will admit, Lying is wrong. Cheating is wrong. Stealing is wrong. Murder is wrong. But what about Jealousy, Bitterness, Hate, Sex outside of Marriage? The Bible says we shouldn't have any of that, either! Those things are what trap many of us.
Nobody is perfect (besides Jesus). No actress, teacher, Mom, Dad, or politician ever was or will be. We all deserve to be hated. We all say stupid things. No one is completely right.
During the next four years, and the rest of our lives, let us all keep open minds and hearts to the possibilities of people and the future. Pray for our Leaders. Pray for Our Friends, Pray for our hearts.
Don't Hate.
Love.
The Lord has us in His hands.

Adventure

The picture is of my new backpack. Sweet, huh?

I took a trip to Bainbridge Island last weekend to visit my good friend Mary. It was such a glorious weekend. There is something about being close to water that stirs my heart. I believe it's in my blood, coming all the way from the vikings, of course. Although rivers and lakes are just fine, something about being close to a sea voyage creates a feeling inside of me. The smell of the air. The waves. The constant clarity of weather and wind. It's like adventure is always going to happen.
I think it always does.
It's amazing what creates a lust for adventure. One small trip just makes me want to go farther and deeper into the unknown. Even getting a new bag makes me want to pack for trips and take it around with me all the time, just in case I get swept up. If I had to go on a great journey right this moment, could my bag take me there and back again? I like to think so.
And what would I need?

My skinny metal Bible
Another book of some sort... maybe two
My pencils and sketchpad
My favorite Starbucks Tumbler with golden deer and filigree as the print.
A knife. Always.
A journal I write in, so I will have something fantastic to read on the train.
An Ipod. A little modern, but a necessity.
A guitar. I couldn't get along without that.

Really, I think I would be okay with just that, but it's missing something.....
Oh ya,
People I love.
They won't fit in my bag.

I often wish I could just get up and go. I want to start walking, and only stop when I can go no further. This is a romanticized freedom that airs of the 60's, I know. I do know. Not much good came of it in many cases, but who doesn't want the freedom and adventure? Sadly, out of adventure and experience, lack of foundation and friendship would whither the soul.
It is no good to see something beautiful if there is no one to see it with.
It is no good to be alone.

Jonathan: the Lone Ranger

I was reading my Bible recently, specifically 1 Samuel 14. This chapter begins with Jonathan bringing his armor bearer to peer over at the Philistines. After looking over and having a little tet-ta-tet with the Philistines and the Lord, he basically says "Let's hunt some Orc!" He and his armor bearer, going alone into the Philistine garrison, begin to take men out by the dozen! All because the Lord had given them to him. There was great confusion in the camp, and sooner or later the Israelite scouts got the drift that a fight was going down, and Jonathan was wailing on everybody!
"So the Lord saved Israel that day,"- 1Samuel 14:23

This Passage tells me two things about Jonathan:
1. He was an awesome swordsman. obviously.
2. He was in good fellowship with the Lord, unlike his Father at the time. He knew that the Philistines could be taken since he had the Lord right there to make the attack.

Thinking on David, Jonathan always just seemed like the best friend, the co-star, the Heather Burns to Sandra Bullock and Meg Ryan. Equal, yet less important to the story. But here! You get to see that he was the Hero, the voice of reason and man of power at one point.

In these cases, I like to identify myself with the one who fought the armies alone. Through our lives, we will have to listen to the Lord to battle our armies alone, meaning we will need to be in constant communion with the Lord. Jonathan knew what the Lord wanted, and he pulled it off because he had God to back him up. Well, guess what, so do we! A good battle makes things more interesting, let's get out and fight!