The real lives of businessmen, professionals, the everyday man, stay at home parent, healthy lifestyle influencers, and general feel good human stories.
Finding My True Creative Purpose Through the Revolution of Women Who Barely Have the Right to Exist
I was pacing back and forth the same few blocks on the main street of a small town for the last ten minutes. Most people I was crossing were staring at me with perplexed looks on their faces — I could sense they were not used to see a foreigner visiting this part of the country.
Create your own Happiness
Intro: It all started when I was completing my second last year of college. It was almost Christmas break, and I had slotted a few days to create gifts for my family and friends.
Crafting to Raise Awareness
I was working as an office administrator at a community minded church a few years ago and we learned, (through a women’s group wanting to use our facility for an event), about how human trafficking was happening in our community. We held a few informational events ourselves and formed a committee to study the issue and to figure out what we might be able to do to help. The first thing we did was put together a program to provide care bags for survivors of human trafficking, who often do not have anything of their own when they are supported into shelters. We gave these bags to the women’s organization and to the first responders who were working with trafficking survivors in the community. I was hesitant to get involved with the issue personally, because I knew it would break my heart to be near the stories of these women, and that my desire to help might take over my life. But one day I was standing in a store looking at towels and washcloths to find my contribution to add to one of our care bags, and I started to cry. I usually buy the cheapest towels for my home, because I don’t really care too much about them. But as I was looking at the quality of towels in the store, I was thinking about how this woman might feel, receiving a bag full of things that were just for her, knowing that it meant someone out there cared about her situation. And I had to find the prettiest color of towel to bring cheer to her heart, and the softest feeling towel to bring comfort to her ravaged body.
Create your Happiness
Sometimes, I get a feeling that there isn’t enough time to create. There isn’t enough time to spend with myself imagining, daydreaming and writing or reading or listening to music, dancing, getting lost inside myself. Those idyllic moments when you have nowhere to be and no one around and you can be with you, truly just listening to your creative urges and where that wants to take you.
The fear of striking out
I do wholeheartedly believe that I know what fulfills me. It's the one thing that's always seemed to keep me in line. It's what my heart calls for in time of despair but what my soul craves in the middle of euphoria, writing. I picked up this form of art when I was young, I'd fill up journals with my thoughts, my ideas and my emotions. I look back at some of my journals and I can truly read and feel the passion that I've had for the art since I could first get my hands on a journal. Even just the ideas I'd drought down for later were always very uncanny, in a good way that is. I don't know exactly what was running through my head back then as some of my old work seems to be incomplete. Some ideas drought down but no poem with it, no story. Full of potential never the less. I have gone back and picked up ideas from those old notes and have written some of my best poems. Writing comes very natural to me, as though I've been expressing myself through paper for many lifetimes. At the end of the day no matter what I endure I know I can sit down, write and calm my mind and for that there is no question in my head as to why I chose to write in this lifetime as well. For over a decade now I have found that I'm good at putting the right words next to each other. I had more than one literature teacher call me out of class, almost just to make sure that I was aware about my special writing skills. I was promised I was budding as a writer. Others suggested that I began songwriting, always on my mind but I have yet to do so. You see if there's one thing I do when I find something I'm fond of, I take care of it. I'll nurture it, but not too much. Writing for me was like watering a plant, but never enough because I was always too afraid of drowning it. It's like I was afraid of doing it wrong.. of one day being expected of my best work and not being able to deliver, with the one thing that comes so natural to me, writing. Because if I couldn't at least do that then what would I do with all my thoughts and emotions at that point. In the past that issue became such a burden that I quit writing for a little while, I stopped writing down ideas, writing down my emotions and even essays. I told myself that if I couldn't free write, if I could not write any verse or poem that came across my mind in the fear of failing then I wasn't worthy of writing at all. Those were some of the toughest moments in my life that is until I realized I was the one being tough with myself. I reminded myself that I am only human, I am due to make mistakes, to overcome battles but to always get back up more times than I may fall. My passion for writing runs so deep that I almost made the mistake of letting it go instead of trying and potentially fail myself. Today I can truthfully say that the fear of striking out will not keep me from playing the game. My appreciation for writing will never end. I hope to be able to bring a different type of narrative and perspective out into this world. I look forward to bringing a new light out to situations that we may not have seen much light in at other periods in time. I hope to inspire others to follow their true calling despite of any fear or doubt. I am looking forward to being supported through my journey only so I can reach as many souls as I can with open arms filled with optimism, hope, genuine care and a head full of ideas that this world might not be ready for. But always, with the underling goal of gathering with love.
Scissors in a Frame Shop
FABRIC ONLY. It's written in all caps just like that. It's meant to be shouted. Don't hold back. If you see this particular pair of scissors in a custom picture framing shop, beware. The employee, in charge of the expensive textiles, is not messing around. They put that label on the blade for a reason: The scissors must remain clean. They must remain sharp. They mustn't fray the fabric. Respect.
Over the past year, I was searching for a way to find peace and flow amidst the fragmented and utterly surreal nature of the global pandemic. The disconnection from friends and loved ones, the temporal disorientation that came from staying at home, and the consistent flood of fear and anticipation about what would happen next, all led me to develop and refine my creative practice of collage.
Once strong and work worn hands, now frail, trembling with knitting needle between weary fingers. A smile rarely seen, but a steady woman of days gone by, the old eyes now watching a world slip by outside her window. A soul I learned to be a secret, artistic place - forgotten by the years of life and hard work.
Why I'm a Creative
I find human life quite strange. From a very young age, we are guided towards a career path that we would wish to pursue. We explore various classes and subjects in school that prepare us for the world outside of education. Luckily, there are many job roles for us to choose from and, with a bit of luck, there should be something right for you. Unfortunately, too many times have I seen others pressured into high paying jobs when in reality, they would love to go down a different path than that. This path is usually within the creative sector.
Creating My Happiness
Tabularasa or blank slate, that's how most of us enter this world. Interplay with life adds layers to lives. In short, my life is like those of others. Yet, I take inspiration from the most unusual source; the scissors!
From the first time I sat behind a sewing machine in 6th grade, I was hooked. Remember in junior high when we all had to carry around a bag of sugar/flour because it would somehow teach us that we didn't want to be a teen parent? Well, my school used baby dolls and I was the weirdo who sewed a new wardrobe for my fake baby. While I now sew for my real kids, sewing is still my favorite creative outlet all these years later. Despite this, my favorite project I've ever completed--and the one that means the most to me--wasn't a sewing project at all, but fixing up my sewing chair.
Do not know
I have been wondering what to write about. So many things I'm interested in I could have written a poem about color, but I didn't even though my favorite color is blue. I could write about video games like Pokemon or animal crossing ect..... I have a lot of games to choose from.