Août (August)

I walk without flinching through the burning cathedral of the summer.  My bank of wild grass is majestic and full of music.  It is a fire that solitude presses against my lips.  ~Violette Leduc

Tomorrow is the first day of August.

The last full month of summer, and the eight month of the year.

I have always looked at August as the prelude to autumn...the first notes of the golden orange and brown symphony that is close at hand.

I'm not sure what I think about all summer being so close to an end. I feel like I've barely scratched the surface of what I want to accomplish before the days grow short and the prologue to snow arrives.

The colour schemes of nature will change from the fresh summery greens and purples...fading into the rich and fragrant reds and gold tones of harvest.

I'm honestly not sure if I'm ready for the seasonal change.

Yes, I am going to eventually embrace the inevitability that the promises of God are eternal....autumn follows summer, an unbroken cycle until the end of days. And yes, I soak in the beauty of every season...I do not have a favourite, for each one has its own glories of inspiration.

But summer has not ended yet...I still have time.

Time to continue to work on my production of OZ!, which I do promise to write more about in the coming weeks....

...to have picnics of sandwiches and lemon drop fudge, to sip lemonade and eat ice cream cones by the riverfront...

...time to chase fireflies and count the endless stars in the clear country skies..,

...time to taste the freshness of sun-ripened fruit against my lips, and embrace the delicate flavour of every sort of berry imaginable.

August arrives tomorrow.

Fall will have to wait

just a bit longer.

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.  ~Albert Camus

Whimsy (Second Giveaway)

Item No. 1

Dreaming is an act of pure imagination, attesting in all men a creative power, which if it were available in waking, would make every man a Dante or Shakespeare.  ~H.F. Hedge

Before we begin, I have to admit...I was blessed beyond measure by each and every one of you that responded to my previous giveaway. For it being my first, it was exactly the encouragement that I needed to continue in this beautiful endeavor. From the lovely comments I received, three random winners were chosen.

And now, as August rolls around...the final month in these warm and wonderful days of summer...the second giveaway has begun

I am more than honoured to present the following pieces from the beautiful and talented Molly and Claire of Molly the Pirate and Bisou Bisou Beads, respectively.

Each one of these pieces is remarkable in its own unique and one-of-a-kind beauty. I am, once again, drawn to the faintest bit of longing to be one of the lucky ones who will receive these elegant designs.

As before, the items mentioned are shown in order throughout the post.

Item No. 1: Afternoon Coffee Petite Glass Earrings from Molly the Pirate

Item No. 2 (example)

Items No. 2 & 3: One (1) Scrabble pendant necklace of the winners' choice from Bisou Bisou Beads. Two examples have been included in the post. Two winners will be receiving this gift.

(IMPORTANT NOTE: If you are one of my lovely international readers...i.e. not from the United States...please comment as such in one of your entry comments. Many lovely thanks!)

Here is how to enter to win one of these three beautiful items (each counts as either +1 or +2 entries; leave either one or two comments per entry, respectively. Also, please include your email or blog link in at least one of the entry comments).

Entry 1 (mandatory): Comment on this post with something you've always wanted to do, a place to which you have always wanted to journey, a dream you have yet to complete...perhaps an item from your bucket list. (+1)

Entry 2 (mandatory): Follow this blog, and put the BLOG BUTTON in your side bar/lovely reads/blog page/etc. (+1)

Entry 3: Blog/tweet/Facebook about the giveaway (+3, one entry per, one comment per)

Entry 4: Go to Molly's Etsy shop, heart it (if you have Etsy), and comment on this post with your favourite item from her shop. (+2 )

Item No. 3 (example)

Entry 5: Go to Claire's Etsy shop, heart it (if you have Etsy), and comment on this post with your favourite item from her shop (+2)

Entry 6: Follow Molly's blog (+1)

This world is full of whimsy...of beauty...of so many perfect dreams, just waiting to be experienced. Life is meant to be lived. We were created to wonder...to muse...to stand in awe of this world and the Mighty Creator who knit us all together from our earliest moments.

Be a gypsy.

Be a sojourner in this world while you yet have time.

Inhale life.

Chase the whimsy.

This giveaway closes on August 30th at midnight CST. Winners will be drawn that night using Random, and announced the following day. Winners will have 48 hours to claim their gifts, or new names will be drawn. 

The best reason for having dreams is that in dreams no reasons are necessary.  ~Ashleigh Brilliant

Nombre (July Giveaway Winners)

Remember to live, 'cause you're gonna be thrilled to death / When the stars collide and your eyes grow wide. / Take it in with your breath against the glass. ~Owl City, Alligator Sky

I could not be more delighted to be able to announce that the July edition of Inspirational Giveaways is now closed. 

And three beautiful winners have been chosen.

Each and every one of you has been a blessing to me in ways you cannot imagine. Thank you all for your support, love, and beautiful comments. 

Thanks also must be given to Holly at Five Little Gems for her generosity and graciousness toward me and this blog during this process. Her work is truly spectacular, and I could not be more honoured and privileged to feature her artistry here. 

And now...please join me in giving congratulations to the winners, who were chosen using Random's random list maker. 

Jennoelle -- white Christmas fairy, authoress of Unoriginal Originality. Winner of Item No. One: burgundy pearl bar necklace with antiqued gold.

The simple things? Going barefoot. Time to read. Bike rides into town to buy and eat ice cream with friends. Sunburns that eventually fade into tans. Writing in my notebook outside in the sun. Driving with the windows down, sunroof open, and radio turned up loud. Small sweet kittens. Hair blowing the the breeze. Yes, these are the simple things that make me happy during summer.

******

Kels -- victorious ship, authoress of The Flip-Flop Farmgirl. Winner of Item No. Two:  Denim blue jade faded nugget bar necklace

The thing that makes me smile in the spring and summer are flowers. I love all of the little daisies that pop up in our yard. 

******

Hannah Grace -- God has favoured me, authoress of Walk. Winner of Item No. Three: pink crystal and grey pearl earrings.

The simple things that make me smile...My little brother smiling, his voice, his skinny arms around my neck, his laughter...all of him. Nothing brings a smile or a sad look to my face quicker than he can. I just love him so much. Other girls tend to take their siblings for granted, but not me with Noah. Other things are storms, daisies, toddler girls, the sound of laughter, and vanilla twilight. 

******

I could not be happier for the three of you. Please email me or comment with your email address so that I may get these items with you as swiftly as possible. 

August begins in two days. And with it, a new giveaway shall also begin. So I beg of you, keep your eyes open in the coming days. I look forward to walking down this road again with each and every one of you.

Blessings abound.

Never forget to dream. 

Remember to dream because it's gonna be a starry night / over every town, if you look down. / So harmonize with the singing satellites. / Remember to scream because you're gonna be lost for words / When the sparks erupt and they light you up. / Dip your toes in the galaxy 'cause it's yours to explore tonight. ~Owl City, Alligator Sky

Mirror/Reflection

Appearances are not held to be a clue to the truth.  But we seem to have no other.  ~Ivy Compton-Burnett

Reflections are tricky things. It honestly all depends on the medium we use.

If we chose to seek our reflection through the smooth surface of a body of water, we will find that we look more than different...

...distorted features, easily broken by a dropped pebble or the touch of a finger. 

What if we pursue a less easily disturbed method of vision, such as a polished piece of mirrored glass, or even a storefront windowpane?

...dirt and grime can thwart our purpose, and we may not even understand or enjoy what we see. 

For so many, reflections are our greatest enemy. 

In them, we do not see our greatness or our beauties. Instead, we bring emphasis to our multiple flaws and microscopically examine ourselves to yet another detriment to our self-esteem and self-worth.

I am not what the mirror says I am. 

Seeking our only reflection in any sort of clear surface is nothing if not dangerous...heart-breaking...discouraging.

We need to stop looking down into puddles to catch a glimpse of what we think we are...

...we need to gaze upward toward what He knows we are. 

Our reflections on this earth are dim and deceitful. 

It is in Him that we see ourselves in truth...

...beautiful, precious, beloved daughters and sons.

When the world sees me, they should see Him.

I want to stop looking into the dim mirrors of this mortal plane.

I want to become a clear, shining reflection of His glory.

For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known. ~1 Corinthians 13:12

(Don't forget -- today is the last day to enter July's Inspired Monthly Giveaway! Giveaway closes at midnight CST.) 

Mailbox

And none will hear the postman's knock
Without a quickening of the heart.
For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?
~W.H. Auden

I love the mailman. 

I love running down to my little postbox, slipping the key into the lock, and opening the tiny copper door to find letters personally addressed to me.

I love signing into my email and seeing emails written from one friend to another...personal, without a foolish "chain" or a message full of coupons, packed with trite, impersonal gibberish.

I love the written word, seeing my address hand-penned on an envelope...

...perhaps a few inked embellishments here and there to give the paper more personality than it already inherently possesses. 

I love knowing that someone took the time to sit down and scribble their heart onto the page for my eyes alone. 

It's is a much-loved gesture. 

Of all the movements in this world...

...of all the friendly acts known to the heart of man... 

...there is none so devoted or as timeless as a letter writ in human hand. 

This is something that I will never cease to adore. 

Not even after all the ink has run dry. 

The post office has a great charm at one point of our lives.  When you have lived to my age, you will begin to think letters are never worth going through the rain for.  ~Jane Austen

Respuesta (Answer)

I have no special talents.  I am only passionately curious.  ~Albert Einstein

Questions are a marvel of mine.

There is something so provocative, so deeply poignant, found within the curious ponderings of the human mind.

It fascinates me.

And so now, as promised, I have come to answer the questions poised to me in this post by so many precious and equally curious minds: Jess, Ashley, Christina, Kelsey, and Hannah.

In short, I will be honest...straightforward.

Read if you will.

What is your favourite type of music? 

Truly, I enjoy all types of music, with the exclusion of heavy metal, excessive rap, and overly "twangy" country. Those who know me know that my favourite artists include Owl City, Breanne Duran, Imogene Heap, and Brooke Fraser. 

If you could travel to three places, where would they be?

Peru. 

India. 

Paris.

What was your happiest moment last year? 

 To chose just one? So incredibly difficult. 

I would have to say the birth of my beautiful niece...holding her and cuddling with her for the first time, only moments after her birth. Such a precious gift, and such a beautiful moment. 

A few of your favourite bloggers?

To make this list is so deeply complicated and so very difficult! 

I love every single one of my fellow bloggers...but those that top my list are Carlotta, Olivia, Rain, Jocee, Jess, Polka Dot, and Grace. 

Your pet peeves?

People that interrupt. Men that disrespect/make jokes that degrade women. Theatrical politics. Dripping faucets. Daily drama being made public. Phones ringing in movie theaters/playhouses/etc. 

Your pet loves?

Kisses on my face, forehead, and nose. My niece's smile. Hearing my love call me beautiful. The Book of Isaiah. British accents. Properly used grammar. Inca Cola & Dr. Pepper. Sunsets. Hand-written letters. The smell of new books.  Watching the face of the groom as the bride walks down the aisle. Laughter. My King. 

How do you write so well? Did you take a course? 

I do not write so well. I write my heart on the page, and you may do with it what you will. And no, I did not take a course or any sort of college education, save the classes I took during High School.

Where do you find the pictures that you have in your posts?

Unless otherwise captioned, all photos are taken from WeHeartIt. 

What is your favourite holiday?

Easter, hands down. 

Such love and glory magnified into one single day. The world can barely contain such beauty.

What are three of the books that influenced you and your writing the most, books that inspire you, books that make you who you are?

To only choose three? Difficulty personified. 

Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, J.K. Rowling

Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen

I assumed the Bible was a given, as it and its Authour have transformed my life.

Which people, either living or dead, inspire you the most?

My grandfathers, one who is now with his King, and the other with whom I still cherish this lifetime.

My grandmothers, both beautiful and strong women who have prayed me into existence.

My birthmother. Flooded with courage. 

My mother. My model.

My father. My hero.

My sister. My best friend.

My love. My champion, and my Prince Charming.

My King. My Savior. My God. My Father.

If your house caught fire, which five items would be the most important for you to save?

My Bible.

My stuffed lamb, Lucy, which I have had since I was born. I love her. I am unashamed to admit this.

My laptop.

Other than these things, nothing else matters more than the lives of those whom I love and care about. If they are safe, I am the richest of women. 

White, dark, or milk chocolate.

Yes, yes, and yes. 

What is one without the others?

If you have read to the end of this post, I applaud your endurance...I value your curiosity.

If you have any other questions for me, never be afraid to ask them. There is always room for more answers, even if it takes another post to answer them 

Never stop searching for answers. 

You never know from whom and from whence they shall be found. 

Curiosity is little more than another name for Hope.  ~Augustus William Hare and Julius Charles Hare

Not

When you come to the end of all the light you know and it’s time to step into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing that one of two things shall happen: either you will be given something solid to stand on, or you will be taught how to fly. ~Edward Teller

I am utterly tired of being defined by what I am supposed to be...

...who am I am as a woman, as a Christian, as a sister or daughter or wife or friend.

Everyone else has an idea of what I should be, who I should be, and what I should eventually become.

My heart regarding this was pushed over the edge by this post written by my beautiful blogging sister, Rain.

I will no longer be defined by what I am not.

Because I am NOT so many things.

I am not a falcon. I am a sparrow in His hand, just learning to fly.

I am not a messy apartment or a pile of unsorted papers. I am an eclectic artist with a head full of life.

I am not a mountain climber. I am a kitten, putting out a paw to ascend a sapling.

I am not a lion. I am a lamb learning to roar.

I am not silent. I am a fighter learning to be a lover.

I am not a perfect friend. I am a shoulder on which to cry, and a heart with which to laugh. And I am here for you.

I am not June Cleaver, with coiffed hair and perfect pot roast. I'm my own definition of a domestic goddess and housewife...because I can only be me, as it is.

I am not the owner of a college degree. I am a self-educated woman who lets the King direct her pen.

I am not rational. I am a dreamer, un-caged and full of faith.

I am not a size 2 blonde-hair supermodel. I am a size 12 brunette with uneven green eyes, and I am beautiful.

I am not perfect.

I will never be perfect.

I am striving. I am learning. I am growing.

That is all I can ever be, all I can ever do.

Because I am His...

...and He loves me

arms spread this much

this way.

Certain thoughts are prayers.  There are moments when, whatever be the attitude of the body, the soul is on its knees.  ~Victor Hugo

Detailed

The moment one gives close attention to any thing, even a blade of grass it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.  ~Henry Miller

In a recent blog post, I asked my readers to comment with any and all questions they may have regarding me, my blog, my delights, or any sort of random conglomeration they could concoct.

Before you ask, no, this is not the post in which I will be answering those questions. In fact, that particular post is still open and available for more curiosities to be posed, and will be until the end of the week.

This post is a reflection of one thought-slash-question that was posed to me by a dear friend and fellow blogger. In paraphrase, the questioning statement was this:

You see such vastness and reflective beauty in such small, everyday things. How?  


I suppose that the answer is as vast and as simple as the question itself.

I just do.

Allow me to explain.

Ever since I was a very little girl, I have been captivated by this world, and by the small things to be found within each passing moment.

The delicate placement of a golden green leaf against the cracked sidewalk...the way a butterfly's wings feel as they brush your face in a brief moment of on-the-nose landing...the jewel tones of light reflecting through an old glass bottle.

Each of these things exist to be experienced. Any man can be a poet if he would only open his eyes...any woman can become an artist with her words if only she will take off her sunglasses and inhale.

I gaze with chagrin at a world that is lost in cynicism. We were placed here by the Hand of the Mightiest One of all...the most passionate Artist and the most beautiful Poet in this universe.

His beauty is inexpressible. The world only seeks to cast the barest shadow of His glory...and even these things fade into darkness in His brilliance.

I want to soak in His details.

I want to lose myself in His rapture.

That is how I want to live my life....

...as naturally as breathing.

"He loves righteousness and justice; the earth is full of the steadfast love of the LORD. By the word of the LORD the heavens were made, and all their host by the breath of his mouth." ~Psalm 33:5-6

Late {15-23}

Sit in reverie and watch the changing color of the waves that break upon the idle seashore of the mind.  ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I know that today is Tuesday, and that I missed my weekly time of contemplation that come amid the sunrise each Monday morning.

Yesterday, however, was one of those days that left me simply no time for blogging...save for a short yet sweet explanation of my absenteeism, which can be found here.

And trust me, as much as I love each and every one of you, it was truly worth it in the long run.

Yesterday was one of those days that was so full of complicated blessings and wracked with unending moments of business that it almost has all run together in a watercolour blur...

...and yet, the blessings stand out as clear as though they were illuminated in an outline of the purest of light.

• 15. The restoration of the once-under-appreciated gift of electricity after almost an entire day of darkness, due to yet another vicious storm that swept over us.

• 16. Checking item 43 off my bucket list...as I begin the process of directing my first musical theater production...one step closer to fulfilling all my dreams. OZ! has just begun. 

• 17. The squeal of delight from an aspiring actor or actress as I tell them the part they received...these phone calls are one of the best parts of being a director. 

• 18. The simple blessings of a sunrise, warm and sweet after so many days of oppressive storm clouds stealing the sunlight. 

• 19. Awakening to read the beautiful words of Psalm 113, my heart flooding with tear-filled wonder and awe..."Who is like our God?"

• 20. Discovering that my little sister is coming home from Germany almost a month earlier than originally planned...reading a Facebook wallpost filled with sisterly inside jokes and upcoming photoshoot plans...it's been too long since I've seen my best friend.

• 21. Owl City and icy-cold Dr. Pepper...the melodies and the dripping moisture down the side of the can blending into a strange symphony of sensation and beauty.

• 22. The discovery of this song by Breanne Duren...Adam Young's female counterpart with a voice like oranges and sandlewood. This is my new musical love. 

• 23. Allowing my love of dandelions to pour out into this guest post over at A New Rebel...innocent beauty found in the weed patch. 

More simple joys. More little things combined to make beautiful pleasures of life.

Forgive my lateness...

...and embrace my delight. 

When ideas float in our mind without any reflection or regard of the understanding, it is that which the French call revery, our language has scarce a name for it.  ~John Locke

Collapse

I regard the theatre as the greatest of all art forms, the most immediate way in which a human being can share with another the sense of what it is to be a human being. ~Oscar Wilde

This will be an incredibly short post, and I do promise a much longer one tomorrow.

I am exhausted to the core.

But the words "overjoyed relief" do not fully capture the euphoria I am feeling at this very moment. There is truly nothing in comparison to this feeling, except perhaps Opening Night.

Twelve hours...

...almost 40 auditioners....

...47 jawbreakers...

...more caffeine than any one human should consume in their lifetime...

...an amazing team of seven passionate theatrical individuals....

...and my production of "OZ!" has been completely cast.

God is so beautiful.

Theater is tragically wonderful...flawlessly frustrating...and epic in all its never-ending facets.

As of today, I don my "Director" baseball cap.

Tonight, I start my trip down the Yellow Brick Road and dust off my ruby slippers.

I have been waiting for this moment for my entire theatrical career.

OZ! has officially begun.

Here goes nothing.

Soli Deo Gloria. 

Cuisinière

Cooking is like love.  It should be entered into with abandon or not at all.  ~Harriet van Horne

I adore cooking. 

There is something so poetic about taking raw ingredients and transforming them into something beautiful and tasty...

...taking things that, while they are interesting and delightful on their own, become a symphony when they are combined to compose a cantata on the palate. 

Every since I was a little girl, I have been at home with a wooden spoon and sauté pan in my hand. 

When the other little children were watching Sesame Street and Clifford the Big Red Dog, I was immersing myself into the world of Julia Child, Jacques Pepin, and Caprial Pence.

These white-coated people were my inspiration...the first exposure my innocent eyes ever had to the world of culinary beauty. 

Even now, my bucket list is peppered with dreams of meeting, cooking, and conversing with my childhood idols...from Paula Deen to Emeril Lagassee to my all-time culinary hero, Chef Gordon Ramsey. 

There is magic in the kitchen...found on each oven rack, cooling on stove tops, and simmering in saucepans. 

There is comfort found in a butter and flour roux, waiting to be blended with melted cheese and spices to create my homemade macaroni and cheese...

There is spice and pizzazz wrapped up in each bite of a beautifully prepared pad Thai or the sweet burn of a green Indian curry.

There is pleasure found in the golden brown of a perfect pie crust, perfectly mounded with freshly cut peaches in their own sugar and cinnamon-hinted syrup...

There is blissful perfection within each bite of a chocolate-frosted cupcake, the frosting coating your lips and tongue.

And there is pride when you realize that every last crumb, every bite, every drop came straight from your own wooden spoon and mixing bowl. 

Each ingredient is a gift from Heaven. Each recipe is penned with love and expertise. 

I will never cease to love the magic that is food...

...and the wonder that is culinary creativity.

This is my bliss...

...the bliss of cooking. 

The colors of a fresh garden salad are so extraordinary, no painter's pallet can duplicate nature's artistry.  ~Dr. Sun Wolf

Reflétant

Did you ever stop to think, and forget to start again?  ~Winnie the Pooh

Tonight, I am taking the time to think.

I'm not sure what it is about tonight that is causing my mind to become lost in thought.

Perhaps it is the fact that the sky is finally calm...after almost three days of storm-churned clouds and pounding rain.

Or that I had my second dose of the final Harry Potter movie tonight, and was reminded yet again just how much my heart belongs in the stone corridors of Hogwarts.

Maybe it was the taste of the entire pack of strawberry Twizzlers I slowly nibbled through this evening until the wrapper was empty and the fruity taste of the only member of the licorice family that I enjoy lingered gently on my lips.

Might it have been the growing list of questions that have begun to collect on my blog...brimming with untouched inspiration, awaiting  my answers in the coming days?

Perhaps it was the way I spent my day...curled on the couch in the company of three other women whom I greatly admire, laughing and weeping and learning together amid plates of summer salads and fresh-cut fruit.

Whatever the cause, my mind is lost in itself tonight.

I'm not even sure what I'm thinking about, to be honest.

I'm simply overflowing with the beauty of life.

My thoughts dazzle me, as though the stars had melted with my dreams, calling me to waltz with them tonight.

There is much to be said for the beauty speaking...

...but there is much unsaid for the elegance of secret thoughts.

And then, when the Empress ran aground / And my eyes turned blue and green, / I heard a gorgeous sound, / And that's when it became a dream / When the sky fell in, / When the hurricanes came for me, / I could finally crash again, / And that's how I became the sea. ~Owl City, How I Became the Sea

Pregunta (Question)

I think, at a child's birth, if a mother could ask a fairy godmother to endow it with the most useful gift, that gift should be curiosity.  ~Eleanor Roosevelt

Questions are important to life.

We are born with the innocence of curiosity...the need to know, search, muse, and ponder the things set before us.

The statement has been made that there is no such thing as a "stupid" question, and I am inclined to agree. How can we know if we do not ask? What things can we glean if we keep our musings behind our lips and unheard by those who may have the answers we seek?

So here, I give you the opportunity to exercise your gift of curiosity.

Ask me what you wish to know. 

Ask me anything.

Any question...no matter how "foolish" you may thing it may be or how trite it may sound to your own ears.

Ask me of my life, my dreams, my wishes, my inspiration, my heroes and my failures...my favourite colour to my deepest beliefs.

Put your question in the comment section of this post, and I will answer it with all honesty in a forthcoming post.

Obviously, there is a level of decorum and appropriateness that is accepted, but I am most sure that I do not have to bring this to your attention.

I have laid down the welcome mat and unlocked the door of my mind.

Open the door, if only just a crack.

Be curious.

And ask away.

The important thing is not to stop questioning.  Curiosity has its own reason for existing.  One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality.  ~Albert Einstein

Le Chocolat

My rock candy passion is bittersweet / And armed to the teeth / Cuz she would rather fall in chocolate / Than fall in love / Especially with me ~Owl City, The Yacht Club

I love chocolate.

Again with the trite statements. I feel as though every chocolate product in the world has just cringed at the disservice those words have done to them.

Chocolate may be one of the most genius culinary inventions in the known world.

There is something so wonderfully smooth, delicate, and rich about the flavour...the texture...the memories and delight that even the word "chocolate" concocts in the human brain.

No wonder it is said to bring up fancies of love and affection...no wonder men use these delicate morsels to conjure pictures of romance.

Indeed, it is romance in edible form.

After I learned last night that I was the winner of a four-pack pound of eccentric and deliciously quirky fudge from Jewel of the Lion, courtesy of the beautiful Lucia at From Under my Little Umbrella...

...I began to contemplate upon the subject of this tasty delight.

I have decided that I want to be like chocolate.

In it's barest form...in the bean pod from which it is created...chocolate is one of the most undesirable flavours in this world. It is bitter, harsh and sharp against the palate, and not at all something one would want to put even remotely near their lips.

And in my barest form...oh, how sharp and bitter I am. I know from past experience that I can indeed push people away from me because of my harshness.

I am not sweet or smooth. I am harsh and vile.

Photo: It's a Dream Sampler Pack (my winnings,

but not these flavours)

Courtesy of Jewel of the Lion

I am undesirable.

It takes work.

The heat of adversity.

Being willing to break down...to not be so hard and locked away in my own shell of bitterness...

...it takes pain and struggle.

But in the end, my King has transformed me.

From bitter to delicious.

He has made me precious. Well-received and beloved.

And with each passing day, I become sweeter.

Like chocolate.

I prefer to regard a dessert as I would imagine the perfect woman:  subtle, a little bittersweet, not blowsy and extrovert.  Delicately made up, not highly rouged.  Holding back, not exposing everything and, of course, with a flavor that lasts.  ~Graham Kerr

Blogginista

"A memory is what is left when something happens and does not completely un-happen." ~Edward de Bono

I never set out to be a blogger.

Or maybe I did.

I'm still honestly not sure.

Like I've said in previous posts, this blog is actually the third in a string of online attempts to start some sort of place in which to ramble, think, and process my life...

...not counting my now ancient and long-untouched Xanga and Myspace pages...and yes, I did just date myself and make myself feel incredibly old for almost 21, but that's beside the point.

I never wanted to be one of those bloggers...those that penned their every waking movement and each step they took into an online play-by-play. The same goes for my Facebook...breakfast food choices or private boy-girl-best friend-off and on again drama are simply not topics for public display.

I was only going to post a few mental thoughts, maybe a paper napkin poem or two...maybe I'd post, maybe I wouldn't. Maybe I would share this place with my friends, or I might just keep it to myself forever.

...whoops.

I seem to have accidentally become a blogginista.

I have the sweetest and most precious of friends that I have never met, and yet seem to know me so well.

I have fallen prey to faithfully reading "famous blogs," such as Aspire, Of Horsefeathers, and (life is too short not to) wear red shoes, marveling at their following and longing to be like them one day.

I've started carrying my laptop everywhere, and caught myself overwhelmed with excitement..."I have to blog that!"

I've fallen in love with my corner of the internet.

I draw my heart on my sleeve, and write my dreams up and down my arms.

I'm not writing down every little moment.

But this dramatically elegant gypsy is making her own memories.

Keystroke by keystroke.

Post by post.

Minute by minute.


As I felt the even tide / Deep in my shallow dreams.  / And then, when the empress run aground,  / And my eyes turned blue and green, / I heard a gorgeous sound, / And that's when it became a dream, / When the sky fell in, / When the hurricanes came for me, / I could finally crash again, / And that's how I became the sea. ~Owl City, How I Became the Sea