tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6711269864945587002024-03-05T04:01:25.779-07:00warm fuzzies and hand snuggleezgo ahead...look around. don't just read the first post; search for something that YOU like! then comment and let me know what YOU think, because that's my favorite part of blogging.
go on, now. sit back, relax, and start clicking. :]kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.comBlogger300125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-17337643670156652702016-08-11T13:23:00.000-06:002016-08-11T13:23:26.173-06:00it's just not the samesometimes the world feels very big,<br />
and i feel very small.<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
in other news, i accidentally bought another plant today.kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-11261126746263512642016-06-30T22:45:00.000-06:002016-06-30T22:45:12.032-06:00an old friendi've been writing again.<br />
<br />
it's a beautiful sort of discovery, to keep words bottled up for so long and then spill them out again when the sky provokes it.<br />
<br />
here's to vulnerability and the beauty of our <a href="https://girlandmountain.wordpress.com/">own personal stories</a>.kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-23710061371674358892015-12-30T16:02:00.001-07:002015-12-30T16:12:26.991-07:00on falling<i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">originally written december 12, 2014 | 6:27pm</span></i><br />
<div>
<i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">i wrote it last year a few weeks after it <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/v-ShZgLbCr/?taken-by=kwistyart">happened</a> and found it in my drafts again, this past december 12. </span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">today i decided i should publish it this year. </span></i><br />
<br />
we saw a small pine tree in the distance.<br />
it was about halfway across the field, surrounded by big pines, now silhouetted against the last remains of what was an exquisite sunset, a few minutes previous.<br />
the small tree was different; unlike its comrades, it was decorated in white christmas lights.<br />
<br />
everyone else was surrounding it, our extended family of 12 or so, and we were the last to arrive.<br />
it was quite a sight to behold; a tiny wonder among the mundane.<br />
i walked toward it with my sister, her little son giggling and trotting alongside us.<br />
<br />
her son, my youngest nephew, caught my attention. a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth.<br />
he was in a hoodie that seemed like it was too small to exist (but fit him perfectly)<br />
and jeans and little boots.<br />
a few of the smaller of his cousins ran from the tree to greet us,<br />
which made him giggle and squeal with joy.<br />
they beckoned him toward the tree.<br />
<br />
i watched as he gained speed; trying to keep up with his cousins -- small, but all older than him.<br />
he was so happy as he gained momentum approaching the glowing tree -- ecstatic, hands flailing, short little legs running at their full capacity. so joyous. so excited!<br />
<br />
then suddenly, his foot caught under him and he fell forward<br />
his hands weren't fast enough to catch him, so he skidded onto the leafy ground.<br />
<br />
it was mostly dark, and i couldn't see what exactly his obstacle was.<br />
but i had been caught in his joyful moment just a second before<br />
so when he fell, i was totally shocked.<br />
<br />
like when you hear a grand piece of music, and you're invested and moved and soaring with the rhythm --<br />
and then suddenly the conductor just halts the sound.<br />
<br />
his fall was abrupt;<br />
how could he fall?<br />
he was so close to the tree!<br />
<br />
all this flew through my mind in an instant,<br />
but before i could move to act, he looked up toward the tree,<br />
that winning smile on his face, giggled and struggled for a second to get up--<br />
then he continued to run again full speed toward his destination,<br />
his cousins still cheering him on.<br />
<br />
i blinked.<br />
and then blinked again.<br />
realized i was blinking away a tear.<br />
<br />
what the...? why--?<br />
<i>nope</i>, i told myself firmly.<br />
i hurriedly gained composure and continued toward the tree.<br />
<br />
by this time, our little crew was sauntering toward our picnic spot (underneath a lamppost in the now-dark park).<br />
<br />
my littlest nephew had now surpassed the tree, giggling and running in the opening beyond it.<br />
my sister was doing her best to keep up though she had bags in tow.<br />
<br />
i stood there alone at the tree, not quite knowing what to think.<br />
why had his little tumble affected me so quickly, to the point of emotion?<br />
<br />
he's a little boy.<br />
i mean, they fall.<br />
like...all the time.<br />
<br />
but he had looked so victorious just a moment before, face bright and eyes on the glow ahead,<br />
then all the sudden all he could see was the dark, cold grass.<br />
it didn't seem fair.<br />
but what did he do after?<br />
he giggled.<br />
i wondered if he realized that falling wasn't supposed to be in the plan of that victorious little kodak moment.<br />
<br />
and then i realized: it <i>is</i> supposed to be in the plan.<br />
and sometimes falling <i>is</i> the plan.<br />
it's how my nephew <i>got up </i>that was most impressive.<br />
<br />
you see, my nephew struggles with about 11 different cranial and neurological conditions.<br />
he has to wear these adorable little glasses so that he can see properly.<br />
he has a depth perception problem, seizures, and at 3 years old, he still can't talk a lot. in fact, he barely officially joined the world of the walking this past summer.<br />
<br />
but amidst all this, he's not bothered.<br />
when he fell, he just giggled, observed his circumstances,<br />
and then -- eyes on the tree, he struggled a bit to get up,<br />
and started running again.<br />
<br />
not even walking.<br />
running.<br />
<br />
<i>why didn't he just walk,</i> i thought to myself.<br />
<i>it's a lot less risky...</i><br />
well, because he knew that running is much more fun, of course.<br />
knowing full well (though maybe not cognitively comprehending) that he could fall again,<br />
yet resuming his speed.<br />
<br />
i stood there for a few minutes alone at that tree, watching my loving, patient gentle sister play with her son.<br />
that's what it was: playing. she'd chase him and he'd run around, his little giggles echoing through the shadowy stretch of grass. and i observed him fall again; in fact he fell often. not a minute would go by where he wouldn't fall.<br />
<br />
but he seemed unaffected by this;<br />
this was all part of the game to him.<br />
but it wasn't just part of the game,<br />
it was part of his walking experience.<br />
<br />
and so i realized:<br />
falling is a part of our walking experience.<br />
<br />
the more i stared,<br />
the more i realized his perspective:<br />
falling is not a setback; it is sometimes just what happens when you try to run.<br />
<br />
and of course, when you have 11 different conditions that makes you not be able to function as properly as other kids your age.<br />
conditions that create problems in vision, paralyzation, social anxiety, and a lot of other things.<br />
<br />
but really, don't we all have 11 billion conditions we deal with throughout our lives?<br />
are we not at times blinded by stress, paralyzed with depression, hiding anxiety, navigating faith crises, bearing a load that could topple us to our hands and knees over and over again?<br />
<br />
yet oftentimes when we fall,<br />
we are embarrassed,<br />
ashamed,<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhanEAOn06xjq3LBDhZtv8qGNmEebyy5wqBZqdr1TL0fO9UL43SYSt_zIAIF0XqivHfWa3pq4uhH49nFSTKQBgZkb1uiFDxlCr11VajgJdBeB8IyI40ARUJGQXgUx2UEsu8y07gtt7GNOsl/s1600/tree.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhanEAOn06xjq3LBDhZtv8qGNmEebyy5wqBZqdr1TL0fO9UL43SYSt_zIAIF0XqivHfWa3pq4uhH49nFSTKQBgZkb1uiFDxlCr11VajgJdBeB8IyI40ARUJGQXgUx2UEsu8y07gtt7GNOsl/s320/tree.png" width="319" /></a>feeling that one fall is a fail in our perfect beeline toward whatever glowing tree we deem worthy to run toward.<br />
<br />
and so sometimes we get up,<br />
looking around to see if anyone notices,<br />
rubbing our new injuries and bruised ego<br />
and start to saunter toward our destination.<br />
if not grudgingly, at least a little less bushy-tailed.<br />
<br />
other times it's easier to just stay on the ground.<br />
less risk.<br />
<br />
my eyes were (perhaps embarrassingly) wet a few more times as i observed him into the night.<br />
of all the people, i thought, this extra-joyful, happy, LOVING little sweetheart of a kid would be the last person to deserve to have all these conditions and setbacks placed on him. yet he handles it like a champ. <br />
<br />
but i realize it's not about what we <i>deserve</i>.<br />
we all fall. and that’s okay.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.lds.org/scriptures/dc-testament/dc/122.8?lang=eng">d&c 122:8</a><span style="text-align: center;"> </span></div>
<script async="" defer="" src="//platform.instagram.com/en_US/embeds.js"></script>kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-45745445108577992532015-07-28T21:05:00.000-06:002015-07-28T21:05:09.861-06:00letters from pain<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">prelude: i am thinking about this concept tonight in the midst of my migraine. this post came as a sort of stream of consciousness, stemming from only the idea of "letters from pain". i'm not much of an allegory writer, and this is mainly unedited. take from it what you'd like. </span></i><br />
<br />
dear human,<br />
<br />
i know i can be cruel.<br />
<br />
it has been said that you are exhaustible; i am inexhaustible.<br />
<br />
this is true.<br />
<br />
but if i were exhaustible, you could conquer me<br />
and there your progression would cease.<br />
<br />
from me, you may gain bitterness<br />
and perhaps cynicism<br />
and you may put up many walls.<br />
<br />
but you would lose the chance to gain empathy<br />
and sincere humility<br />
and invalidate any need to search for strength.<br />
<br />
there is a parable* that has been spoken -<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>a man asked his son to push a boulder.</i><br />
<i>the son, an obedient child, pushed and pushed an pushed. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>day in and day out. </i><br />
<i>still, the boulder did not move. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>years unfolded. </i><br />
<i>the son was determined and obedient.</i><br />
<i>still he pushed the boulder, </i><br />
<i>but to no avail. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>finally, in a fit of ever-increasing frustration, </i><br />
<i>the son decided he was finished. </i><br />
<i>the boulder would never move. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>a man now, he tread back to his father</i><br />
<i>weary, frustrated, but above all, angry.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"father," the son exclaimed, "this boulder will. not. move.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"day after day, year after year i have pushed the boulder. </i><br />
<i>still, it does not budge.</i><br />
<i>why would you make me push so hard, father, for an effort so fruitless?"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>the father looked at his son, </i><br />
<i>his eyes also weary,</i><br />
<i>but wise beyond the years of his son. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"son," the father patiently spoke, </i><br />
<i>"i never asked you to move the boulder, only to push it." </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>his words were gentle but firm. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>dumbstruck, the son looked away, the shame of misunderstanding flushing his face. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"but son", the father said, gesturing to the back window, "there's a different boulder out there. that is the one i want you to move." </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>the son's eyes flashed up. </i><br />
<i>this is the last thing he'd want to do. </i><br />
<i>yet he was still obedient, almost beyond his will. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>without another glance at his father, he stomped out the back door</i><br />
<i>toward the second boulder, and pushed his shoulder against it,</i><br />
<i>almost in protest to prove he couldn't. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>he was surprised when the boulder moved with less strength than he had anticipated using. </i><br />
<i>he looked back toward the window, </i><br />
<i>and saw his father, </i><br />
<i>a soft but knowing look on his face. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>you see, his father had never wanted him to move the first boulder; that boulder was a training ground to gain the strength required for the second boulder. the father knew that if the son would have known that the first was never to move, he would never have worked so hard to move it. it wasn't the movement itself, but the effort exerted in pushing the rock that gained the son the strength to move the second boulder. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
and so you see, i hold a use for you.<br />
i am despised among most and am the downfall of many.<br />
<br />
however, i am secretly the strength behind those who are strong.<br />
only from fully exerting against me, the strength of pain, can they earn the strength to be strong.<br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">*editor's note: this "parable" was extrapolated from an analogy my brother jonathan told me years ago. like many analogies he's told me, i've never forgotten it and it seems to come back at the most pertinent times. </span></i>kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-32712981022660299862015-03-18T07:16:00.000-06:002015-03-18T07:57:21.353-06:00i woke with these words on my mindsleep got up before i did today,<br />
and slowly slipped out the door.<br />
<br />
he thought i'd not notice,<br />
but how couldn't i?<br />
<br />
because now i just think of him more.kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-73298846820259370932015-03-16T09:38:00.000-06:002015-07-28T21:15:33.796-06:00#changingi come to this screen already knowing that words will be irrelevant to convey the awe i've been feeling in these last few minutes of reflection.<br />
<br />
but i'm just so amazed and happy; i have to attempt to document <i>something</i>.<br />
<br />
i had incredible sharing experiences this weekend.<br />
i got to prepare for and teach relief society, have a good discussion about teaching, and also had a few really, incredibly good one-on-one conversations with incredible people.<br />
like, mind-blowingly good.<br />
<br />
i just got back from the most recent one.<br />
i had a bad headache all day.<br />
bottom line: i came back home from our chat with the most excruciating migraine i've had in a long time.<br />
every time i get these i forget how bad they hurt.<br />
<br />
but tonight, i can't even be bothered by it.<br />
because it is an absolute testimony that God is in control.<br />
<br />
--<br />
<br />
the things that my friend and i discussed needed to be discussed.<br />
currently i must acquiesce to some of the physical conditions placed on my body has right now,<br />
but tonight God needed me to be stronger than my body would naturally physically allow<br />
to relay a few things.<br />
<br />
my mind was not working as hard as it would normally be during any other intellectually and spiritually stimulating conversation,<br />
because it physically couldn't be<br />
(or i would most likely vomit, or feel the need to as i do now).<br />
<br />
instead, He just sort of took over and spoke through me.<br />
when i needed to say something, the words flowed easily and naturally and effortlessly<br />
like a stream flowing down a mountain.<br />
<br />
i wasn't sure if any of it made sense,<br />
but from what my friend expressed to me,<br />
it was a perfectly matched conversation<br />
which we probably both needed for different reasons.<br />
<br />
and the cool thing is,<br />
part of my contribution in this particular conversation was made up of parts of so many other conversations i've recently had.<br />
conversions where i <i>did</i> have to strain to think and decidedly choose and craft words to convey thoughts, because i had the physical and mental capacity to do so.<br />
which prepared me for this conversation.<br />
<br />
and oh! oh, how others thoughts have become my own.<br />
none of this was just "me".<br />
i love when someone provides me words for something my soul has been trying to say. <br />
<br />
i am convinced that on this earth, we create each other.<br />
<br />
God has put us here to learn together,<br />
to live together,<br />
to teach each other--<br />
because we are vessels through which He speaks<br />
and because we provide each other the opportunity to become more<br />
--more Us --<br />
every day.<br />
<br />
goodness, life is beautiful.<br />
and so, so delightfully clever.
<center><br />
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<a href="https://instagram.com/p/0RXZsGrbK6/" style="color: black; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_top">👆every day. i sure hope so. // this weekend has been mostly spent outside, walking and talking and learning, with really good people. i am intellectually and physically and spiritually exhausted and i'm so grateful for it. #changing</a></div>
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A photo posted by Kristin Gulledge (@kwistyart) on <time datetime="2015-03-16T02:11:05+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Mar 15, 2015 at 7:11pm PDT</time></div>
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<script async="" defer="" src="//platform.instagram.com/en_US/embeds.js"></script></center>kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-15217333405474132032015-03-05T22:49:00.000-07:002015-03-06T00:13:25.823-07:00everybody dance now if anyone's wondering, 10:49pm is an excellent time to have a dance party by oneself in one's room.<br />
<br />
and hey, there's still time for like a 10:53pm dance party in whatever room you're in, if you're quick to find a good song.<br />
<br />
for that matter, whenever you read this is probably a good time for a personal dance party. probably. i wouldn’t even mind if you commented and told me what time you danced and to what song(s).<br />
<br />
also, <a href="https://instagram.com/p/xV8KUbrbPq/?modal=true">various derivatives</a> of “dancing for no reason” are probably the only <a href="http://sparkpluginthesea.blogspot.com/2015/01/break-in-new-year.html">new years resolutions</a> i have remembered and kept.<br />
...so far.<br />
<br />
and honestly i think it’s one of the most important ones.<br />
<br />
also this may be the most literal blog post title i've ever written.kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-20110867491325773242015-03-03T23:10:00.001-07:002015-03-03T23:11:41.617-07:00psa: vulnerability apparently dwindles when you don't use ityou should be proud of me.<br />
i have written a lot lately.<br />
in fact, i have written eight complete blog posts.<br />
<br />
...they're all tagged as "drafts" in my post queue from january 29 til now.<br />
where has my courage gone?kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-35499882419737333572015-01-29T07:40:00.000-07:002015-03-18T08:06:23.862-06:00what's in a namelast night i purchased something pretty big.<br />
<br />
in doing so, i had to sign my name to a lot of papers. i joked with those whom i was signing for that my signature certainly didn't get better as i kept signing. but when you're buying a car, your signature is nothing more than saying that you are responsible for what is being signed.<br />
<br />
<i>i legally agree to specific terms and conditions. i agree to the consequences laid out if i fail to meet those terms and conditions. </i><br />
<br />
it doesn't really matter what it <i>looks</i> like.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br /></div>
<div>
a little later last night, i had the opportunity to go to my college alma mater and saw a painting of mine <a href="https://instagram.com/p/ycya9FrbIe/?taken-by=kwistyart">hung in the gallery</a> there, amidst other paintings from my friends and heroes. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
it was interesting -- in that context an artist's signature is clout; if i were a famous artist, my signature would be worth a lot. here, aesthetics matter and signatures are more than agreeing to binding terms. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
but then i started thinking -- the signature hasn't changed; the context has. but don't they essentially mean similar things? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>i painted this. therefore i claim it to be mine. i will agree to the consequences of whatever comes from creating this piece and putting it into the world because it is mine. </i></div>
<div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
*** </div>
<br />
as scary as it was to sign for that car and its accompanying responsibilities, sometimes it's more daunting to sign a painting and claim it as my creation. </div>
kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-27392673003953227202015-01-24T09:27:00.000-07:002015-01-24T10:23:54.748-07:00the human experiencewe found it.<br>
<br>
our friend matt usually hosted dance parties at his place.<br>
<br>
but driving to this party, tali and i realized it was in the lounge of some apartment complex close to campus.<br>
but i mean, the ambiance was cool; there was a sort-of deejay and a decent lighting setup and a lot of fog machine smoke.<br>
okay, cool.<br>
buuuut it turned out to be filled with sweaty super-dooper young undergrads, just like i feared when i realized it was this particular apartment complex.<br>
<br>
but we walked in and greeted matt. <br>
<div>
then i scanned the medium-sized room.<br>
nope, didn't know anyone.<br>
<br>
<i>------- 1.5 hours earlier, 7:30pm -----</i><br>
<i><br></i>
it was called the "i love humans party" and i had no idea what to expect.<br>
but talisa always hosts good parties, so i figured this would be great.<br>
honestly though i was feeling atypically antisocial.<br>
so while the small group talked and laughed and flirted,<br>
i grabbed my sketchbook and continued a drawing i had started earlier today after work,<br>
waiting to go car shopping.<br>
my first drawing of 2015.<br>
(if you're an artist, you'll know this implies my total artistic slackership thus far....)<br>
<br>
as the party progressed, i remembered it's national handwriting day.<br>
as customary in much of my art, i figured i'd throw a few words in there.<br>
(thanks, blog, for creating this need....)<br>
so i started to add interesting phrases i overheard while everyone talked.<br>
it was actually pretty fascinating to see how all these mid-late 20-somethings interacted with each other.<br>
<br>
<i>------- 3 hours earlier, 4:30pm -----</i><br>
<div>
<i><br></i></div>
i had been car shopping last week as well, but this afternoon i went with a friend who is an experienced car-shopper, to meet another a friend who works at a car dealership and wanted to show me some of the vehicles they had.<br>
<br>
honestly, i was wary. i didn't want to stress a friendship over a car deal, and last week i got another car dealership guy breathing down my neck. as in, calling and emailing me more than i talk with my parents.<br>
<br>
<i>------- 3 hours later, 7:30pm -----</i><br>
<div>
<i><br></i></div>
soon after i started to add words into my drawing,<br>
the group started a game:<br>
someone pulled a question out of a hat and asked someone else in the room to answer it.<br>
simple enough.<br>
i figured with everyone being inundated with trivia crack recently, it'd be some sort of live action version of that.<br>
.....mmkay.<br>
<br>
but one of the first questions caught me off guard.<br>
as this was a "i love humans" party, it was:<br>
<br>
<i>what makes humans, human? </i><br>
<br>
um.<br>
what?<br>
<br>
someone answered,<br>
"i think what makes humans, human -- is our imperfection."<br>
<br>
that was...strangely comforting, as well as the short discussion that followed.<br>
kind of cool.<br>
okay.<br>
<br>
next question,<br>
<br>
<i>what scares you the most about humans? </i><br>
<div>
<i><br></i></div>
answers surfaced like,<br>"our ability to choose" and<br>
"the fact that we can hurt each other".<br>
<br>
huh.<br>
as i continued to draw, my ears perked like i was some sort of golden retriever.<br>
(do golden retrievers ears perk? i don't even know).<br>
<br>
next question:<br>
<br>
<i>what fascinates you most about humans? </i><br>
<br>
suddenly this started to sound like a party to fit my somewhat pensive mood.<br>
<br>
and the discussion ensured:<br>
"we are connected to each other."<br>
"the complexity of the body."<br>
"the resilience of the human spirit."<br>
<br>
on and on we discussed these salient points, and i started to get excited about something.<br>
life, maybe?<br>
the joys of being human?<br>
maybe just general excitement because these are perhaps my favorite conversation waters in which to swim.<br>
<br>
time went by and i drew some notes and contributed when i felt.<br>
by the end, i felt a little more full,<br>
like i do at the end of all really good heart-to-hearts.<br>
and i had already had one earlier today, surprisingly at work, so i felt happily intellectually satiated.<br>
<br>
<i>------- 15 minutes later, 9pm -----</i><br>
<i><br></i>
<div>
on the way to the dance, </div>
<div>
we saw the moon. </div>
<div>
just for a few minutes, </div>
<div>
but it was incredible. </div>
<div>
a tiny, redish orange sliver. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
i was so glad to have someone there to experience that sight with me. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<i>------- 1.5 hours later, 10pm-----</i><br>
<div>
<i><br></i></div>
<div>
not knowing anyone has never stopped me from dancing before. </div>
so of course, talisa and i went wild.<br>
<br>
we had already warmed up, actually, inside her car before we walked in.<br>
which was actually a really important primer to the experience which happened next,<br>
and just as important was the human conversation just previous.<br>
<br>
really quick,<br>
an aside:<br>
i love dancing. i think i've established this.<br>
and sometimes i'm okay at it, because i've decided to not have as many inhibitions as i dance.<br>
but usually i'm at least somewhat thinking of how to make the moves i do look...sort of cool.<br>
(this is like...awkward confessions, round one.)<br>
<br>
but as i started to move with the music in that dingy little room,<br>
i was reminded that i didn't know anyone. and everyone was just....so super young.<br>
but as i continued to dance, it really hit me:<br>
i. didn't. know. anyone.<br>
<br>
and quite honestly there was 0% of the people i was hoping to impress.<br>
i mean, they were all closer to my nephew's age than to mine, let's be real.<br>
usually i'd feel kind of old and try to enjoy it anyway, even though i know i can still easily blend in to this demographic.<br>
<br>
but tonight, i was like,<br>
I DON'T HAVE TO IMPRESS ANYONE.<br>
<br>
and you know what that made me do?<br>
dance like a fool.<br>
no, seriously, like an absolute fool.<br>
<br>
and you know what?<br>
it felt incredible.<br>
<br>
at one point, a kid danced up to me and said,<br>
"so you dance facing the wall?"<br>
<br>
indeed, my back currently happened to face the crowd bouncing to the thumping beat.<br>
i smiled and shot back just as fast,<br>
"sure do! when i dance for myself, i do!"<br>
<br>
that's when i realized: for me, that's exactly what this was night was all about.<br>
<br>
<i>------- 3.5 hours earlier, 5:30 pm -----</i><br>
<i><br></i>
to me, car shopping is complicated, and overwhelming.<br>
i mean, so overwhelming that i was going to write how overwhelming it is and got overwhelmed just thinking about it.<br>
ew.<br>
<br>
but there were so many features that the two friends i was with were so impressed with so i was thinking,<br>
<i>uh...do i need to be impressed with this feature? </i><br>
<i>oh yeah. probably so. they are, and they're pretty experienced.....</i><br>
<br>
<br>
<i>------- 3.5 hours later, 9:30pm -----</i><br>
<div>
<i><br></i></div>
i found myself relieved that none of my friends had showed up to the dance party. <br>
usually dancing is fun for me as i love to help liberate others of their innate shyness on the dance floor,<br>
or i try to make some awesome moves and even though it really is therapeutic it's usually fun to watch others and deviate off of what they do. it's sort of a really fun creative challenge for me. and it's usually about social connection as well.<br>
<br>
but not tonight.<br>
nope, tonight this was just for me.<br>
i didn't even want to talk with anyone else.<br>
<br>
in fact, i found myself intentionally letting my body respond however it felt according to the music,<br>
and i encouraged it to dance more stupidly than normal -- by a ton, but naturally -- because then:<br>
people wouldn't have the physical space to judge,<br>
wouldn't have a chance to talk with or try to hit on me (c'mon, it just happens at dances, you know?)<br>
and wouldn't have a chance to try to compete with me.<br>
<br>
because i didn't notice them.<br>
i was too fast, too wild, or too in my own world for all of those things.<br>
<br>
in fact, most the time my eyes were closed<br>
or i was looking toward the ground.<br>
it helped me stay grounded; it helped me connect with the music more.<br>
<br>
when i looked up,<br>
i would get distracted by other people's moves<br>
and forget to focus on my connection with the music.<br>
and man, i was grinning.<br>
<br>
it helped to have talisa there<br>
because she was doing the exact same thing.<br>
and halfway through the dance,<br>
we both noticed we felt the exact same things.<br>
<br>
it was liberating. so liberating!<br>
<br>
<i>------- suddenly, in my head -----</i><br>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
the features my car-savvy friends thought were cool are totally cool. </div>
<div>
does that mean i need to be impressed by those particular cars? </div>
<div>
nope. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
do i have some cool dance moves?</div>
<div>
sure do. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
do i need to dance those moves at dances when i kind of don't feel it, because it's sort of expected of me? (really because i expect it of myself)? </div>
<div>
sure don't. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
do i need to prove myself to anyone else? </div>
<div>
actually no. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
do i know some pretty cool people? </div>
<div>
yep. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
do i need to compete with them? </div>
<div>
nope. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
<i>------- back at the party -----</i></div>
<div>
<i><br></i></div>
<div>
facing-the-wall boy was back, and he had some pretty funky moves. probably. i never really looked up to acknowledge them. i didn't need to compete with him. </div>
<div>
i did notice that he danced closer and closer to us, and the closer he got, the further i got. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
partially because i had become adamant about not letting this night be about impressing people...or being impressed. </div>
<div>
which sounds absolutely jerky. i know. </div>
<div>
but i just needed this for me. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
and partially because i was thinking all the above thoughts in my head and processing. it was so great. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
tali and i decided that we'd pick one last song and then dance on out. </div>
<div>
as we quickly, stealthily gather our things (only a jacket each; we'd left our phones and all else in the car), </div>
<div>
wall boy gathered his. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
so we danced out at a random time during the song, </div>
<div>
then completely booked it outside, laughing the entire way out.</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
we hope that wall boy knows his moves are great</div>
<div>
but we just both desperately needed this for us. </div>
<div>
besides, if he wanted to mingle, ifyaknowwhatimean, we'd just have to tell him we're 6-8 years older than him, soooooooo......</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
<div>
<i>------- the car, 10pm -----</i></div>
</div>
<div>
<i><br></i></div>
<div>
we raced to the car and blasted music. </div>
<div>
i mean, blasted. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
and we continued our dance party of two, and sang and danced our little hearts out. </div>
<div>
rather, our upper bodies -- our feet were kind of stationed where they are, being in a car and all.</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
on the way home, there was a great song that came on, </div>
<div>
so we stopped the car and danced on a somewhat deserted road overlooking our entire city. </div>
<div>
just because we could.</div>
<div>
and then we hopped back in the car and continued. </div>
<div>
just because we could. </div>
<div>
and because we were cold. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
back at talisa's, </div>
<div>
we talked about how liberated we felt. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
how lucky we are</div>
<div>
to have these experiences. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
these discussions and these dances.</div>
<div>
really, by letting ourselves just let go, </div>
<div>
we're learning to love all of ourselves. </div>
<div>
and that's so important if we can ever open ourselves up to love someone else, </div>
<div>
or let someone else love us. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
<div>
<i>------- 45 mins before -----</i></div>
</div>
<div>
<i><br></i></div>
<div>
as i danced, i thought, man. </div>
<div>
i'm freaking 26 years old. </div>
<div>
i could have been a mom by now. </div>
<div>
and what kind of mom would be dancing so stupidly at a college party? </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
then i thought, </div>
<div>
um....a cool one, duh. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
i absolutely want to encourage my children to dance all the time. </div>
<div>
if they like dancing. </div>
<div>
i'm not going to force it upon them as punishment </div>
<div>
(though that'd be kind of fun....). </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
i want to have dance parties <i>with</i> my kids. </div>
<div>
yeah! i can do this. </div>
<div>
when it happens.</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
and as i focused on making sure i was true to my high-spirited, dancing self, i thought, </div>
<div>
someday i'll have someone who won't judge me, </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
someday i'll find someone who will catch up to me. </div>
<div>
someone who won't compete with me, but will dance with me. </div>
<div>
someone who won't ask me to slow down* but we will run together.</div>
<div>
someone who won't just <i>deal</i> with and ALL of my sides (as introverted/exhilarated/extroverted/ridiculous), but will love and encourage them! and encourage me to develop them. </div>
<div>
someone to whom i can do all that for as equally.</div>
<div>
<br>
tonight i was too fast, too wild, or too in my own world for all of those things in a literal sense.<br>
and it felt good just to be me<br>
<br>
in general, i see myself as too much and other times not enough, too fast or too slow, too wild or mundane, too in my own world or too concerned about the worlds of others for things to balance out.<br>
<br>
but i'm working on it.<br>
and i'm living a very human experience. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
<div>
<i>------- 11pm -----</i></div>
</div>
<div>
<i><br></i></div>
<div>
on my way home from talisa's, </div>
<div>
i saw two deer, just still against the mountainside. </div>
<div>
i also turned up the music </div>
<div>
and i sang as loud as i could. </div>
<div>
i mean, really loud. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
with the owl city dude,</div>
<div>
i'm trying to make myself believe that planet earth moves slowly. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
but man, it moves. </div>
<div>
i parked. walked to my door. </div>
<div>
and before i did, i stopped to admire the stars --</div>
<div>
i love that i can see them so clearly where i live. </div>
<div>
this earth is incredible. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
<div>
<i>------- now / 3 hours later -----</i></div>
</div>
<div>
<i><br></i></div>
<div>
i think i will just look at the floor and focus on being where my feet are. put my head down and go to work. and then dance like everyone's watching (because they probably are). and i won't care, and it'll feel great.</div>
</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">*by "slow down" i don't mean i shouldn't slow down in my life or on my calendar. i promise you i am very aware my schedule is overbooked. i promise i know, and i'm working on it.</span></i></div>
kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-74510625053396722392015-01-13T10:28:00.002-07:002015-03-03T23:38:30.494-07:00take me back<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">this may make me sound like i'm a pre-teen. i recognize that. and today, i'm okay with it.</span></i><br />
<br />
i am so pleased.<br />
<br />
i just made the perfect playlist for my mood. i am so happy how it completes the perfect feeling for this morning. it consists specifically of older songs that i used to listen to on repeat. at one point in my life (early college?) they made me really happy. and then new music took over and i just didn't really listen a whole lot again because i tend to saturate myself with my current favorite bands since there's just so much good music.<br />
<br />
hearing old songs is like greeting close friends again after you haven't seen them in a long time.<br />
you never realize how much you've missed them til you're with them again.<br />
<br />
i listened to the first 4 songs consecutively and now i'm listening to the rest on shuffle.<br />
<br />
if you'd like to listen:<br />
<br />
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="380" src="https://embed.spotify.com/?uri=spotify:user:1242546114:playlist:1DysmqTC5YaEs3TCHMNoni" width="300"></iframe>
kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-74984009151407341172015-01-02T02:11:00.000-07:002015-01-11T22:32:26.421-07:00break in the new year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjByG0YV3u5EEhh0S859XLay4rLePoWQ9iTyCSqWpZlBq8zawSa-ULi4hoNJSS5b4fuTg0hnmT5UKa3HC42iZ-R7NYrEyYuH_Tr2DxaN_zAaoJKZCtgPiTO4xuawZ-IMcqlNtfq9p362gtS/s640/blogger-image-1125455078.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjByG0YV3u5EEhh0S859XLay4rLePoWQ9iTyCSqWpZlBq8zawSa-ULi4hoNJSS5b4fuTg0hnmT5UKa3HC42iZ-R7NYrEyYuH_Tr2DxaN_zAaoJKZCtgPiTO4xuawZ-IMcqlNtfq9p362gtS/s320/blogger-image-1125455078.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>it's quiet.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>also it's 1:18am.</i></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>i find myself in a cosy little space. i lit candles because i'm sort of cold and don't have control over the heat here. two of the candles are ones i bought in mexico; it's the first time i've lit them. it's hard to think it's been a year since i've come back. makes me wonder if it was a dream. but no, it was too real. and it makes me wonder what i've done this past year.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
***</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
moving past the nostalgia, the first day of the new year just concluded. one highlight of new year's eve was the opportunity to write bad habits acquired in 2014 on a plate and then hurl it to the ground at the stroke of midnight.<br />
<br />
man, that felt good.<br />
..........and slightly terrifying (we sort of formed a circle and threw them to the center. for future reference i'd suggest <i>not</i> chucking your bad habits at other people, literally or metaphorically, but luckily no one stumbled away with shards of glass in their eyes).<br />
<br />
i have made <a href="http://sparkpluginthesea.blogspot.com/search/label/resolutions">resolutions</a> different ways each year.<br />
(sneaky: i actually realized that some of the past years' resolution posts were waiting in my drafts so i just published them now).<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgszUaIj7cLcw0mv7DplD4ENSJechnUtnnMALJM_bCaGFWg_otu4pjqAt0e3tMgPPKMwrfoOhRjXbeGtDWou_oP5T1CNDUbpq3Qh4C9Pda7mhzmqy_blq6XQr71f4raAGcRP2lyUX0Gi1uz/s1600/2015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgszUaIj7cLcw0mv7DplD4ENSJechnUtnnMALJM_bCaGFWg_otu4pjqAt0e3tMgPPKMwrfoOhRjXbeGtDWou_oP5T1CNDUbpq3Qh4C9Pda7mhzmqy_blq6XQr71f4raAGcRP2lyUX0Gi1uz/s1600/2015.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">before/after. forgive the selfie, but do you see that triumphant grin?!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
it only felt natural that 2015 resolutions came from that first new year's activity.<br />
<br />
this next part is crazy vulnerable for me, but hey. we're all flawed, are we not?<br />
so as human to human, i present to you some of my 2014 bad habits here (in no particular order):<br />
<br />
1. lack of really good scripture study<br />
2. complacency<br />
3. being too concerned over appearances (read: social media)<br />
4. letting fear control me<br />
5. becoming dependent on validation<br />
6. procrastinating hard decisions<br />
7. eating unhealthily<br />
8. lack of yoga/meditation/physical activity<br />
9. electronics overwhelming me<br />
10. lack of self-control<br />
<br />
...and i threw 'em to the ground. they're not a part of this system. so to replace the gap those things will leave, here are some of my resolutions:<br />
<br />
1. scripture study will be a priority<br />
2. i will focus on the "why"s of what i do. this will help me be less complacent and more proactive. i don't want to be a victim of others' action or inaction; i want to be a master of my agency.<br />
3. will limit my social media intake and again ask why i'm on social media when i choose to interact. is it because i'm bored? procrastinating? depressed? or am i trying to specifically communicate with someone?<br />
4. kick fear to the curb. replace with more faith.<br />
5. look to God for validation. true validation comes from him. and also, validate myself. i doubt myself way too much.<br />
6. hard decisions...man. those are rough. many times, a big dose of perfectionism mixes with a bit of self-doubt and that makes a perfect action stopper. so i will stop polarizing big decisions (i have to do ALL of this today or i can do NONE of it) -- and break it down into more manageable tasks. write a list of the hard decisions and tasks i have to take care of each month. some i can put off til next month; that's cool. write them down for next month.<br />
7. well, due to some health developments, i really do need to focus on this now. prepare food/meal plans on weekends and make sure i have it ready each night for the next day.<br />
8. plan on the dates and times to do yoga and meditation, and then make them appointments with myself. don't let things come before them in my schedule.<br />
9. okay. let's do this: in the morning, don't touch my phone til i get to work. instead, fill that time with meditation/scripture study/whatever i feel i need to do that day. also give myself half an hour each day to answer emails/fb messages/texts in the evening. we'll see how that goes.<br />
10. so silly that i have to do this, but....make a note when i resist things and also note when i indulge. compare the two at the end of each day. i think a lot of it comes from awareness.<br />
<br />
<i>addendum-- i finished this post on 1.11.15. i had kind of a life-game changer today during church and the devotional tonight. so this post </i><i>might sound like a lot of stuff all at once but don't you dare tell me i can't do all of it. because more's coming. 2015: the year of change. </i>kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-22354208050357064142014-10-21T01:12:00.000-06:002014-11-02T01:24:15.660-06:00inktober 20<i>i've been pretty faithful to inktober lately, even though i've not been posting on my fb/blog/insta. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>usually i draw something in ink right before i go to bed. as per inktober's rules, the things i make are always in ink.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>but tonight, well...this morning, i'm opting to make something in digital ink...in words. i've forgotten that words and art are almost interchangeable and both necessary for me. </i><br />
<br />
//<br />
<br />
recently i've worked a lot.<br />
too much.<br />
it comes with a high price of stress<br />
so that today, when i was supposed to have a day off<br />
(but worked 5.5 hours anyway),<br />
i almost felt guilty for leaving to have fun.<br />
<br />
and i recognized that as unhealthy.<br />
<br />
so i specifically made sure i carried out all my "fun" plans today,<br />
as more of a mental health requisite than a reckless day off.<br />
<br />
//<br />
<br />
it was a day of many outfits, including --<br />
<br />
houndstooth tunic and black jeans,<br />
a leather riding jacket with armor included,<br />
double sweater combo with a leather jacket from mexico and boots<br />
shiny skirt, and a mask from venice (and hair piece from mexico)<br />
<br />
and a day of many activities, including --<br />
<br />
a walk to sodalicious with coworkers to celebrate two deadlines accomplished<br />
a journey up the canyon on one of my favorite modes of transportation<br />
a trip into a corn field to wander around for an hour<br />
a balloon-infested, cheesecake celebration: masquerade style<br />
<br />
and some thoughts.<br />
including --<br />
<br />
there's something important about bonding over the small things. even if it is soda.<br />
those mountains have secrets within their crevices. there are hidden views and secret vistas. some only visible for a split second when one or two are speeding by...and only if one is looking for them<br />
fun can be made anywhere. also, even if you can't seem to find the end of a maze, at least you're building endurance and patience. maybe the end isn't as important as we think it is.<br />
and that mask.<br />
<br />
i miss the real one back in venice,<br />
and that time my brother and i chased it.<br />
<br />
//kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-80880340018059993212014-09-30T23:36:00.000-06:002014-10-02T21:51:52.946-06:00playing with blocks againit's been a long time since i've stood,<br />
Girl Against Mountain.<br />
<br />
it's been a long time since i've explored new roads<br />
but only in a very literal way.<br />
<br />
it's been a long time since i've written<br />
well, like this.<br />
<br />
it all feels new and vulnerable.<br />
yet very familiar.<br />
<br />
so tonight,<br />
i wrote like this.<br />
<br />
drove til successfully lost. hit a dead end, turned around,<br />
was chagrined to stumble onto a <a href="http://sparkpluginthesea.blogspot.com/2011/06/authors-note-to-be-honest-this-is-post.html">familiar street</a> (it meant i'd been here before)<br />
<br />
and stood against the mountain.<br />
and though the wind didn't threaten to push me over, the rain came.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMhKKFOplTQ85VRLMdbqCowtEIgtHUJOWjf_hrlPr3qyteWs7mHC8xI7UfV3Tz3xV_0KqpdNDDZsbJhnLJZ8Ib4IADoBQyhp4KjOJgD9fqiMDxeovtMA-m6ZnfrkbMrbR6-wFfJTGHS8Q7/s1600/mountain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMhKKFOplTQ85VRLMdbqCowtEIgtHUJOWjf_hrlPr3qyteWs7mHC8xI7UfV3Tz3xV_0KqpdNDDZsbJhnLJZ8Ib4IADoBQyhp4KjOJgD9fqiMDxeovtMA-m6ZnfrkbMrbR6-wFfJTGHS8Q7/s1600/mountain.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: #e3e3e3; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;">9.30.14 // </span></div>
kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-45273892454666849802014-09-27T20:30:00.000-06:002014-09-30T08:00:14.792-06:00before it grows too late<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>the following: a facebook status i posted that i need to remember. with a few extras because this is my little corner. </i></span><br />
<br />
here’s a healthy dose of vulnerability and some truth.<br />
<br />
i went to the <a href="https://www.lds.org/general-conference/sessions/2014/10?lang=eng">relief society</a> #womensmeeting preoccupied and anxiety-filled. not wanting to talk with anyone, i sat in the corner hoping not to be noticed. because of my stubborn and introverted mindset, i was a lot more focused on what was happening. i listened and felt. and as i sat there, it was like my cup drained of its worries and filled with hope and direction. my cheeks were completely wet and i was vaguely grateful i decided against makeup today. i still have all the same problems, but somehow things are manageable. i don’t know how that works, but i just know it does. with God, all things are possible.<br />
<br />
<div class="p1">
we don’t earn His love; we couldn’t even if we tried. but it is there, just waiting for us to recognize it. and when we do, my…it’s a powerful feeling. i am important. you are important. we each have a work to do and it is important to God that we are successful. our victories are important to him, no matter how small they may be.</div>
<br />
please, please—no matter who you are: make it a priority to <a href="https://www.lds.org/general-conference/watch?lang=eng">watch LDS general conference</a> this coming weekend. we have a good long week to <a href="https://www.lds.org/general-conference/prepare-for?lang=eng">prepare</a>. he’s just waiting to give us what we need to hear, as long as we’re seeking for it with an open heart. i just want everyone to experience what i did tonight, because it felt so good. so personal.<br />
<br />
“lead me, guide me, walk beside me…<br />
help me find the way."kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-41314451572069803952014-09-17T18:56:00.000-06:002014-09-27T16:58:39.056-06:00let the evening go<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
i was looking through old pictures a few nights ago. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6lQ_fUobZHTrCJka6-KDMZHUx80qd0lP_7N49VtomdVh4Ff5c_vqfbifDaKyEtQTJ7UDaFvFaVFQs-UDMxeR2e3wfrwS2b6Oqvcf8l91ktjXuol59RQwHCjUxkJokyRan79S9kKocyErk/s1600/J_2007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6lQ_fUobZHTrCJka6-KDMZHUx80qd0lP_7N49VtomdVh4Ff5c_vqfbifDaKyEtQTJ7UDaFvFaVFQs-UDMxeR2e3wfrwS2b6Oqvcf8l91ktjXuol59RQwHCjUxkJokyRan79S9kKocyErk/s1600/J_2007.jpg" height="127" width="400" /></a></div>
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2007 //</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRjAbM9wp2ahlMrxec-UXcrmpV1Q0UhaN6imNX_sNKgbW4vDRkjRthAKqyVeNOpKu-NQ0VsGSRkJALphbhRpkC8Y6tea_YXcUS9zYREGFtzW5wILrkyg8lkG6GyNJtAvr_I3uyTuZlVB7U/s1600/Jo_3_26_08_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRjAbM9wp2ahlMrxec-UXcrmpV1Q0UhaN6imNX_sNKgbW4vDRkjRthAKqyVeNOpKu-NQ0VsGSRkJALphbhRpkC8Y6tea_YXcUS9zYREGFtzW5wILrkyg8lkG6GyNJtAvr_I3uyTuZlVB7U/s1600/Jo_3_26_08_3.jpg" height="93" width="400" /></a></div>
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~ 3.26.2008 //</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdsZk7feSvLdM-JQE-bR6JoPiLJDaqWKcv9jNb6aZgVVF0vAxKkKxv0kHr0_CdEtTFTDgdTU3S_-_aja3ZrY0PdgeK-KfMBwk2FylS7L0Nw4zPm-N1J8MOzPF0Nb8BHyxl5XjDdk0D3GHp/s1600/A_11_22_08_22.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdsZk7feSvLdM-JQE-bR6JoPiLJDaqWKcv9jNb6aZgVVF0vAxKkKxv0kHr0_CdEtTFTDgdTU3S_-_aja3ZrY0PdgeK-KfMBwk2FylS7L0Nw4zPm-N1J8MOzPF0Nb8BHyxl5XjDdk0D3GHp/s1600/A_11_22_08_22.png" height="185" width="400" /></a></div>
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11.22.08 // </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">[honorable mention]</span></div>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh47DFsCUIeWQBKagpK4gFZuThGiWkb0Skg8ZEaUl9ZWGHZeldrIoSMYw_jyPco8xPVKMsTBbviZ3APDlXWWE3j74ZCu6rQP5cSot_nrUvEtAPVZuu5-TIMhb475zUd2i2vwwn9cnXPiSpN/s1600/Z-8-26-10_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh47DFsCUIeWQBKagpK4gFZuThGiWkb0Skg8ZEaUl9ZWGHZeldrIoSMYw_jyPco8xPVKMsTBbviZ3APDlXWWE3j74ZCu6rQP5cSot_nrUvEtAPVZuu5-TIMhb475zUd2i2vwwn9cnXPiSpN/s1600/Z-8-26-10_3.jpg" height="171" width="400" /></a></div>
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8.26.10 //</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio6CV8urw3q-f3kXsEDGsX5lHG1KQbxGRY3T8LL2yuOazLjD2vFvv68e6RO1PYf0_QwPeGouzjftCzoba9cwowDxomdMa1KHGv9xWmoJq_dCjoj3LbnrhCPDcwaPKel_SS-0iIub-y036h/s1600/L_7-1-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio6CV8urw3q-f3kXsEDGsX5lHG1KQbxGRY3T8LL2yuOazLjD2vFvv68e6RO1PYf0_QwPeGouzjftCzoba9cwowDxomdMa1KHGv9xWmoJq_dCjoj3LbnrhCPDcwaPKel_SS-0iIub-y036h/s1600/L_7-1-11.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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7.1.11 //</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQqaCxJ5efk00Yo6MQSeuLD-WwhboR9z8MAsGi1iT5-SaO6le5-cmuJ7cWRf-VS07g1NcN4U-9fet79Ucy4_1i9llXBfilZQcDmxoFxh_8VG12Squg2Pxpt-vaL3B3zehlPuWqeD5eVEha/s1600/R_11_11_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQqaCxJ5efk00Yo6MQSeuLD-WwhboR9z8MAsGi1iT5-SaO6le5-cmuJ7cWRf-VS07g1NcN4U-9fet79Ucy4_1i9llXBfilZQcDmxoFxh_8VG12Squg2Pxpt-vaL3B3zehlPuWqeD5eVEha/s1600/R_11_11_2.jpg" height="400" width="393" /></a></div>
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11.11 //</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3IMTy2gT_emV50pAEzNqTtxF-t3pVlTFJ3CaBLQAT9xVob1ajyr4zjLOCgYDyGOWMJ7b8wFHY-JfYyH2jFVRyfEwnloA_05sQmnkx1SmWmhFYiC7HtgBGagWOC29L4vC_CM0UOu9ris27/s1600/streetlight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3IMTy2gT_emV50pAEzNqTtxF-t3pVlTFJ3CaBLQAT9xVob1ajyr4zjLOCgYDyGOWMJ7b8wFHY-JfYyH2jFVRyfEwnloA_05sQmnkx1SmWmhFYiC7HtgBGagWOC29L4vC_CM0UOu9ris27/s1600/streetlight.jpg" height="398" width="400" /></a></div>
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9.11.13 // 5.22.14 // 6.8.14</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM9WqtYj0WyGSTjLfTBCV-2h6OMMQdNM8agTKwvYn_ak6gbtJfoqrRyjxnLd8-JE_6Br27raGvrMGZ7iH_wbDTa6xJ1Nhg4pbR1zoEfGm5EjaLbiX2o0ktYm3FBWtQf6g8vBmDh_7vOlun/s1600/C_9-17-14_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM9WqtYj0WyGSTjLfTBCV-2h6OMMQdNM8agTKwvYn_ak6gbtJfoqrRyjxnLd8-JE_6Br27raGvrMGZ7iH_wbDTa6xJ1Nhg4pbR1zoEfGm5EjaLbiX2o0ktYm3FBWtQf6g8vBmDh_7vOlun/s1600/C_9-17-14_2.jpg" height="400" width="296" /></a></div>
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9.17.14 // (etc, tbd)</div>
kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-20568935811318979602014-09-11T23:31:00.001-06:002014-09-11T23:31:31.611-06:00#neverforget<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">i'm in a weird mood. </span></i><div>
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div>
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">and honestly, it's lasted for longer than a night or two. </span></i></div>
<div>
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">i think i'm just in a weird spot in life. </span></i></div>
<div>
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div>
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">sometimes i just feel sad about certain things. </span></i></div>
<div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">but these things are hard to put my finger on, hard to fix. </span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">and so, hard to feel. </span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">but when i do feel it, it's a specific and peculiar sort of Sad.</span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">so then it's the battle of letting myself feel (somewhat irrationally, which annoys my logic) or becoming numb. </span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">usually vacillating between the two. </span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">enough of that vulnerability for now. </span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: center;">
//</div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
today is september 11. </div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
i got up at 5:20 to go running with a friend. </div>
<div class="p1">
who knew that hour still even existed?! </div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
anyway. it does. </div>
<div class="p1">
that, with its accompanying happy little circumstances, started my day off well. </div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
slowly, my body started to rebel and my latent knee injury awoke and reared it's angry, groggy head. and then my head felt like it was a good day to get a migraine, probably because it's most wonderfully inconvenient when i have a pretty intense deadline (which i miraculously hit today). </div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
this isn't supposed to be a log of my daily events. </div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
point is, i ended up more subdued than i was this morning. </div>
<div class="p1">
still in a good mood, just physically not feeling great. </div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
now i'm just sitting here (i cancelled my plans tonight due to said migraine), </div>
<div class="p1">
and i decided i'd like a new cover photo for facebook. </div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
i started looking through my italy pictures...</div>
<div class="p1">
then through my mexico pictures. </div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
with a spotify playlist on shuffle, </div>
<div class="p1">
music gently filled my head as i perused. </div>
<div class="p1">
it had been a while since i've looked through either of these sets of photos.</div>
<div class="p1">
and slowly, i started to feel the Sad creep in. </div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
it's not necessarily a depressed sort of sad. </div>
<div class="p1">
it's just a sad sort of Sad. </div>
<div class="p1">
it could definitely lead to the depressed sort of ad, but innately, it's just its own Sad. </div>
<div class="p1">
a more flavorful sort of melancholy maybe? </div>
<div class="p1">
a respectful slow ache aching for the past. </div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
and i thought again of <a href="http://sparkpluginthesea.blogspot.com/2012/09/11.html">september 11</a>.</div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
i saw the hashtag trending today, #neverforget. </div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
i think that's really powerful. </div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
september 11 was and is incredibly important to me. </div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
but i also realized that sometimes we only intentionally take time to remember the more obvious events in history, and we usually wait for holidays to remind us. </div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
looking through these photos, it just hit me that it's necessary, sometimes vital--to reflect and remember the really September Elevens of our personal lives. and also to remember our own Independence Days. our deepest heartbreaks and our greatest victories, because they're part of the same experience. </div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
it's easier to remember the good things, but sometimes we don't intentionally reflect on them. i think maybe i should, more. and then also the times that have been really hard. and by hard, i mean Hard. it's really important to understand where our growth has come from, and also where our calluses and scars lay, so we're at least aware of them and can start to help them heal if they/we need to. </div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
last night i went to a meditation class and our teacher just had us sit there for 30 minutes, just breathing in silence, observing our thoughts at a distance. we really had to just sit and face ourselves. it was...hard. </div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
as we remember our personal gethsemenes and our greatest victories, we more fully realize who we are and where we came from. and hopefully that can steer us into where we're going. the past is a part of us and always will be, though it doesn't have to define the future. </div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
i'm not trying to say live in the past, but out of respect for what these experiences have done for us and how they've shaped us -- those lessons we must #neverforget. </div>
</div>
kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-65489475625456431162014-08-02T21:53:00.000-06:002015-01-02T01:53:21.544-07:00empty rooms with dense air <i>so looks like i word vomited. </i><br />
<i>like....five times. </i><br />
<i>last month, on this blog.</i><br />
<i>that's pretty good, right? </i><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
****</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
right now i'm listening to my own voice croon songs (really, bits of songs) i've "written" --made up in the car and recorded-- and it's sort of soothing rather than insecurity-filling, which it has been in the past.<br />
<br />
and some of these songs? from a few months ago? they are heart-breaking.<br />
it almost makes me want to cry.<br />
and there are journal entries mixed in.<br />
i am letting them play as well.<br />
and also writing down the lyrics of the songs.<br />
<br />
and surprisingly, i really like some of the songs.<br />
like....really.<br />
a lot more than i thought.<br />
<br />
i want to do something with them.<br />
but i also want to keep them a secret.<br />
they *are* my journal entries.<br />
sort of like this blog.<br />
<br />
but like this blog, they are my secrets that i feel the need to share.kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-89842746125816209152014-07-20T00:18:00.001-06:002014-07-20T00:19:32.048-06:00this outfit worked<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">a continuation from the last....</span></i><br />
<br />
tonight, on the other hand,<br />
<div>
i felt so very alive.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
it started out with a really good night drive to a music night, </div>
<div>
and discovered so many friends there that i just really like a whole bunch. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
and it ended with a dance after-party. </div>
<div>
a really, <i>really</i> good dance after-party. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
and i felt so very much myself, </div>
<div>
dancing with those people down in that happy basement. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
i have no idea what i looked like, </div>
<div>
(in fact, i feel i may have looked ridiculous at times </div>
<div>
and potentially physically terrible by the end) </div>
<div>
but that's what fit me best tonight.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
and i wouldn't have worn anything different.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-7473266885288611142014-07-18T10:19:00.000-06:002014-07-18T10:19:38.968-06:00fitting & blowing<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>ah, a morning post. these don't often occur....</i></span><br />
<br />
it took me an extra long time to get ready this morning.<br />
see, fridays are a little different for my schedule.<br />
and on this particular day, i am going to go to work, work on things, work on freelance things, head to my mentorship, and maybe do a really great art project (film/photography) tonight in a really cool location.<br />
<br />
so naturally, my mind is already skipping over the first four things and it's in that art project;<br />
it's at that location.<br />
which is completely dissonant with the sunny day that seems to be unfolding outside.<br />
the location, the thoughts, the concept, the look and feel--are all more pensive.<br />
not depressed, but contemplative.<br />
<br />
and because of that, nothing fit today as i was hurriedly putting on an outfit.<br />
not because my clothes didn't physically fit.<br />
but nothing fit how i was feeling.<br />
and my hair, too.<br />
i couldn't really do it in a way that reflected how i want it to be.<br />
i don't really know how i want it to be.<br />
<br />
and then i was like,<br />
oh man.<br />
i'm turning into THAT kind of artist.<br />
ugh.<br />
<br />
but at the same time,<br />
i knew i'm not <i>that</i> incredibly finicky,<br />
so i tried to get to the root of it.<br />
<br />
i had a good phone conversation with my sister last night.<br />
one of those heart-to-hearts,<br />
a cleansing, tearful, grateful conversation.<br />
i think it opened a lot of things up in me.<br />
possibilities that i had shut out were open again<br />
and fears i had held up in front of me were torn down.<br />
<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />so this morning, i just really couldn't get over my outfit dilemma for a solid few minutes:<br />
why didn't anything feel right today?<br />
why didn't any of the clothes i wear...make sense?<br />
then i had a subtle uncomfortable realization:<br />
perhaps i don't feel comfortable in my own skin.<br />
currently.<br />
a little bit.<br />
ouch.<br />
<br />
and no outfit in my closet will fix that.<br />
<br />
so i just realized that i'm really antsy with some aspects of my life.<br />
i feel like the winds of change are coming.<br />
or they want to come, but are sort of suspended on their course, in mid-air,<br />
waiting for me to beckon them in.<br />
<br />
so if they aren't coming,<br />
perhaps i'll blow my own wind and make them come. kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-49130906824069580702014-07-15T22:33:00.004-06:002014-07-15T22:33:52.177-06:00woodkidmy brain is usually buzzing with thoughts.<br />
but tonight, i'm just sitting on my porch.<br />
<br />
the thoughts are definitely there, but the faucet is turned off.<br />
and i don't think i really want to turn it on.<br />
<br />
just wanted to stop in and say hi, because i have started to make this space mine again.<br />
i like that feeling.<br />
<br />
i also wanted an excuse to stay on my porch a bit longer<br />
and feel the breeze--much stronger tonight--tousle my hair and play with my clothes.<br />
<br />
i like feeling my strength against it,<br />
(even if my strength is nothing more than simply being a solid mass doing nothing other than sitting)<br />
just to test it.kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-36289209059627769112014-07-14T23:49:00.001-06:002014-07-14T23:49:23.324-06:00feel the cold rush over me againpreoccupied, i drove home tonight.<br />
it had been a good night, but left alone with my thoughts,<br />
my mind reverted back into troubling situations and unanswered questions.<br />
<br />
my window was down and my left arm was characteristically hanging out the window;<br />
a favorite local band was humming through my speakers.<br />
i was on auto-pilot; i hardly noticed as i maneuvered the stoplights on the near-empty streets.<br />
<br />
about halfway home, i noticed the breeze.<br />
it was creeping over my left forearm, soft and warm as it danced across my arm into the car.<br />
and then in noticed the song playing from the cd.<br />
i loved this song.<br />
<br />
then i realized that i wasn't fully appreciating the amazingly warm air this night had to offer:<br />
it had tried, but i had pushed it aside. i specifically noticed it now, and it felt amazing.<br />
i even opened the sunroof and let more in.<br />
gosh, i love feeling warm summer nights.<br />
<br />
that's when i realized: these are all things i enjoy.<br />
things i <i>really</i> enjoy.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
night driving. summer nights. warm breeze. this song. singing.<br />
<br />
...singing. i wasn't doing that, but i could.<br />
i turned up the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-a12sREKcpk">music</a> and i remedied that.<br />
and i sang loudly. from my soul, it seemed.<br />
<br />
and i wondered how many perfect moments like that slip by without me noticing.<br />
so i passed my street and took a long way home.<br />
almost to apologize to a few of those moments,<br />
and perhaps to make something up to them in some small way in promising to notice more of them.<br />
starting now.kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-81498794274493060522014-07-13T23:59:00.000-06:002014-07-14T23:51:57.154-06:00thinkspace it's been so long since i've written consistently here.<br />
<br />
i want to reclaim it.<br />
<br />
i feel like i've scattered my thoughts across the minds of others recently.<br />
i'm guessing you could bet: i'm a very open person.<br />
but in some ways it's terrifying.<br />
<br />
i still need this space,<br />
to gather my thoughts like cards--<br />
scoop them all up and deal them out<br />
just to see what hand i have.<br />
<br />
(which is funny because i rarely play card games)<br />
<br />
but it's true because when you're dealt cards, you know you have cards. you see them physically in your hands. they're tangible. but only when you really turn your cards over do you see what's revealed.<br />
<br />
thoughts can be thick and at times almost palpable.<br />
and recently i've had a good amount of them.<br />
<br />
but instead of writing,<br />
i've dealt them to others.<br />
<br />
and not just one person<br />
and actually, not just a few trusted best friends.<br />
<br />
recently, i've been talking with new friends as well.<br />
new people i've let into my life,<br />
and given some of my most favorite thoughts,<br />
my cards.<br />
<br />
i hope they hold them close.<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
i guess that's another aspect of vulnerability i'm discovering.<br />
<br />
in vulnerability you open up, yes.<br />
but being vulnerable here on my blog, at least i can sign my name to it.<br />
i can go back and reference anything i've written or released.<br />
i can even delete if i want to<br />
(which i don't think i've really ever done, but it's a safety blanket knowing i can).<br />
<br />
in conversations, i can't.<br />
in conversations, it's out in the open air, never to be reclaimed<br />
unless i later intentionally reclaim it.<br />
<br />
but then again, i don't even remember all that i've released to someone else's ears...<br />
ears/mind/heart?<br />
<br />
it's a tricky thing, connecting with people.<br />
<br />
but then again, that's the whole point.<br />
so i guess i'm okay, having spoken<br />
and not written<br />
for so long.<br />
<br />
but still,<br />
i miss this space.<br />
<br />
and i am going to reclaim it,<br />
for me, really.kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-2036408119712292862014-06-22T01:38:00.002-06:002014-06-22T01:40:53.659-06:00plan bsometimes life gets a little tricky.<br />
so you plan to secretly take a little weekend trip.<br />
just to run away for a minute to breathe.<br />
then you realize that your niece has a dance recital that weekend.<br />
<br />
so you go to that instead,<br />
which is completely worth it.<br />
<br />
but as you watch her,<br />
(realizing that at one point she was a cute little girl dancer<br />
and has since matured into a mature, beautiful, incredible dancer)<br />
you ache for that dancer inside of you who never got recognized.<br />
that one that was always there but never quite got her chance.<br />
<br />
so later that night, after not having an outlet for so long,<br />
you realize you probably danced when you were 2.<br />
and again, probably, when you were 6.<br />
and times between when you were 6 and now,<br />
so then you think, why not when you are 26?<br />
<br />
so then you don your old, worn jazz shoes,<br />
and pretend that your toe isn't broken for a second,<br />
or that your leg injuries aren't there for a minute.<br />
and you turn the lights low<br />
and you just dance.<br />
probably to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S3fTw_D3l10&feature=kp">something like this.</a><br />
<br />
cuz it just feels right.<br />
you know?<br />
i mean, hypothetically of course.kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-671126986494558700.post-56600301923257027462014-03-13T23:16:00.000-06:002014-03-13T23:16:17.958-06:00one sticker, please<div>
my head is so achey and i don't know how i will conquer tomorrow.</div>
then again, i didn't know how i was gonna conquer today,<br />but it happened.<br />so there.kwistinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12687225380171299948noreply@blogger.com0