Sketch Challenge for AMM. Journaling reads:
Your way of displaying your anger changes regularly. You used to put
your head against the wall and cry. Then you threw stuff off the tables.
After that you started hitting. And now, you go to this little corner of
the living room where there’s a wall just your size, you sit on the
floor and make all sorts of angry faces while you say a lot of words we
can’t decipher. Every now and then you say, “I’m mad” or “no way!”
The faces you make and the way you sit there is so cute that I can’t
resist smiling. Within minutes, I come to give you a big hug and a kiss.
And then you’re smiling again.
At least until the next time you have a fit.
Sketch 1 for 1-in-48. Journaling Reads:
They say blue eyes are recessive. If you have a Mommy with brown eyes
and a Daddy with blue eyes, the chance that you’ll end up having blue
eyes is less than 15 %. So when we had you and you were born with
beautiful blue eyes, I knew not to keep my hopes up.
All babies are born with blue eyes, and so were you. Most babies’ eye
color changes in a few months. Yours kept staying blue. One month
passed, and then two, three, four. Yours were still blue. I couldn’t
believe my luck. Was I really going to have a blue-eyed boy?
Your grandma kept checking each time she called, “Are they still blue?”
she’d ask. “Yes,” I’d respond incredulously.
We kept telling each other that they could still change after six
months. When six months came and went, we said, “It could be up to a
year.” And here we are. Two and a half years. Your eyes still blue.
Piercing blue. There’s no chance they’re changing now. They’re here to
stay.
I can’t believe a dark eyed brunette like me ended up with a blond,
blue-eyed little boy.
This was for an AMM challenge to use something in your junk drawer. I
used the brad containers I had.
Some of my favorite photos and all the techtechniques they taught me. My second minibook ever.
Layout Number Two for 1-in-48 Sketch Challenge class I am taking. A rare
one without journaling.
My very first minibook. It’s about my six passions: scrapbooking,
writing, reading, photography, technology and languages.
A few years ago, I wrote about how music
gets intertwined with memories. There are thousands of songs that
within seconds transport me a certain time, location, and emotion. Once
a song is infused with a certain feeling, it’s pretty much impossible
for me to disassociate it ever again.
But not fully impossible.
There’s a Dixie Chicks song that I used to love. I was listening to it
on continuous repeat for a few weeks. It just turned out that I also had
some things happening in my life that were less than ideal and beyond my
control at the same time. So, pretty quickly, this song got entangled
with the situation and got associated with very sad and frustrating
feelings. Months passed and I still could never listen to this song
without reliving the events of that time and I quickly started avoiding
the song. Which really bummed me out since it was a fantastic song with
amazing lyrics that would have otherwise made me feel stronger and inspired.
Last night, on my way home, the song came up on my ipod and, to my
surprise, instead of the typical resentment, I felt the sense of
strength and empowerment I had felt before the song had gotten
associated with the sad events. I had finally completely given up my
resentment and finally moved on so it allowed me the space to reclaim
the song that I loved.
What a great way to feel the power of closure.
I came home early on Thursday due to an appointment and took the time to
take David to MyGym for the free play hour. We were laughing and playing
and just in general having a lot of fun when he ran up to me and hugged
me and said “I Love You.” Completely unprompted. Not as a response. Just
cause.
It was one of the best moments of my life.
This is from an old blog entry. Journaling Reads:
When I was younger, I used to travel in a crowd of beautiful women. I
don’t know how it happened but all my female “friends” were drop dead
gorgeous and within a few weeks, my self-image managed to wither away to
nothing. At the time, I started playing a game where each time I caught
myself wishing I had someone else’s something (like hair or eyes or nose
or legs) I would force the issue.
I told myself that the rules were such that I wasn’t allowed to take
body parts or personality traits and plug them into the rest of me. If I
liked someone’s something, I had to completely change places with that
person. Not only did I get their whole body, but I got all their
personal issues, emotions, family, psychological state of mind, past,
living status, job and anything else you can think of. I basically
forced myself to choose between me and this random (or in some cases not
so random) person. Yeah, I got to have their small nose or blue eyes,
but was I ready to also have their eating disorder? How about the
disinterested mom? Was I willing to give up all of who I am to look like
this person? It was my way of forcing myself to face the fact that
people don’t come in pieces. You want a part, you get the whole thing.
How do you like them apples?
In fifteen years, I’ve never met one person I was willing to change
places with. I don’t know if it was the fact that I wasn’t willing to
give up certain aspects of who I am of my life or the fact that I tend
to favor the known over the unknown. Looking at a woman walking down the
street, I can see she has pretty hair or a size-2 figure, but I can’t
see what goes on in her head or how much she suffers daily. With me, at
least I know what I’m getting. Or maybe I was finally growing to like
myself. The game’s done a lot to improve my self-esteem.
An old old layout from the first time David ever went down a slide on
his own.
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projects for twenty twenty-six
projects for twenty twenty-five
projects for twenty twenty-four
projects for twenty twenty-three
projects for twenty twenty-two
projects for twenty twenty-one
projects for twenty nineteen
projects for twenty eighteen
projects from twenty seventeen
monthly projects from previous years
some of my previous projects
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