to sing in the silence: 2009

honest

I was recently asked by a good friend to write an article on a specific topic. I was told the article would be anonymous, but that it needed to be real, raw, and personal. It needs to be honest and not cliché.

My friend’s challenge got me thinking about this sort of writing – “honest writing” if you will, and just how difficult it is. I thought a lot about the entries I’ve put up on my blog, and realized that most, if not all, are very much self-censored. The modernist in me crafts these blog entries that have neat and tidy endings, almost as if I’d placed a big red bow on them. Even if I don’t solve the questions I’m wrestling with, I still end my entries with some sort of triumphant, “But I’m on my way to figuring it out.”

I wonder what would happen if I wrote more honestly… But how does one do that? As I started to think about the idea of honest writing, I found that I had more questions than answers…

Questions about honest writing:

- What IS honest writing? How does one write what is truly in ones soul?

- Why is it so hard to write honestly? Are we scared of being seen as less than what we portray in our not-so-elaborate, in-person selves? Do we fear being held accountable to our words? Are we afraid of worrying our loved ones, or maybe even infuriating them?

- Is there every a point where a writer can be TOO honest? Does extremely honest writing create more discomfort than it creates comfort? Should an individual sensor oneself for the better of mankind, and maybe for their own good?

- Does honest writing serve a purpose for anyone but the writer? Or is it just therapy?

- When does “honest writing” become just a “vent session”?

- Are blogs really a good medium for honest writing? No one would question a novel, poem or play that’s been published, but a blog? Especially since employers are using our personal blogs as testimonials of us as individuals…

Your thoughts and ideas are welcome… I’m always anxious to hear what people think about matters such as these. The spectrum is quite large, but also extraordinarily fascinating.

So please, share.

I look forward to learning, and gaining new perspectives on “honest writing.”

goodbye, hello

Merry Christmas, one and all!

Over the past couple of days, I’ve noticed a lot of “lists” emerging, specifically on Facebook. A lot of people have been reflecting on the year 2009, and all that 2009 has brought – the good, the bad and the ugly. I’ll be perfectly honest. 2009 is a bit of a blur to me. Granted, there are things I remember about this past year, both good and bad, but for some reason, this past year just seems to have flown by, and I’m not entirely sure where 2009 went.

I spent time with my extended family last night, celebrating Christmas. The majority of my extended family had a really difficult year. Lots of illness, lots of death, and lots of heartache. The one phrase that stood out to me throughout the course of the evening was, “Goodbye 2009. Hello, 2010.” The majority of my family members are anxious to say goodbye to this past year, and to welcome in a new year – a fresh start. I thought a lot about 2009 last night, and the the coming of 2010.

Here are some of the thoughts I had…

Next year, I don’t want to feel this way. As I sat around my family, I thought about all the sadness they’d experienced throughout the year, and recognized that I had my own sadness I was mourning. There were some very difficult parts of 2009 that I don’t know that I’d care to relive. And yet, I realized something… I HATE that feeling. I hate the feeling of having gone through an entire year, and only feeling a sense of lament… Was 2009 really that bad, or is it just a matter of perspective?

I don’t want to look back on 2010, and wish that it had been different. I don’t want to look at it and see only the ugly and painful things that happened. At the end of 2010, I do not want those things to reign or to be the only things that I see. When I get to the end of 2010, and I’m celebrating Christmas and the New Year, I want to be able to say, “2010 was a blast! Let’s do it again!” I want to say, “Let 2011 bring as many joys as 2010!” I want to be able to look back on the year and say, “Wow – that was worth it!”

I don’t want you to think that I’m ungrateful for this past year. I've been reflecting more and more on the brilliant things 2009 brought. This past year has proven to be a great year of growth for me. I have also met some amazing people this past year that have literally changed my life. But I also recognize the fact that sometimes pain is needed - that through hard times and through pain comes growth.

I am in no way looking at 2010 and asking for it to be a breeze with no pain and no hurt… But what I AM asking for is a renewed perspective – a perspective that looks for the things to rejoice over. I want to look for ways to grow – not just realize, after the fact, that I’ve grown. I want to see people and situations in a new light… I want to love unconditionally. I want to better appreciate what I have, even when it feels ugly and uncomfortable. I want to become a dedicated, passionate person – one who lives it out, not just talks it out.

How, you say? Whew! Tough question… No idea what the answer is. But as I’ve mentioned before, I love questions. Here's what I'm thinking: I just need to start doing it. I need to start doing all the things I want to learn and be… Sometimes, I will fall flat on my face in failure. That’s inevitable. And I’m sure it’ll be a painful process, as I hate failure. But at the same time, if I don’t “do” until I “learn” – I’m not sure I’ll ever get to the “doing.” So the way I look at it, I just need to start DOING these things. I need to start moving. 2010 is going to be about motion for me.

So, goodbye, 2009… and hello, 2010. May you prove be a devastatingly brilliant year… One of constant motion, ridiculous love, abundant rejoicing, and substantial growth.

questions

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Do not seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will find them gradually, without noticing it, and live along some distant day into the answers.”

- Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet


I love questions.

Often times, when I meet someone new or I am trying to get to know someone better I ask them a lot of questions. These questions can be slightly silly, such as “What is your favorite childhood memory? If you could have some sort of super power, what would you want and why? Or if you had to get rid of one color in the spectrum, what color would it be?” But my favorite questions are those that get to the heart of a person: “What is one thing you can't live without? What is your biggest hope? What is your biggest fear? What is one thing you deeply desire to accomplish before you leave this world?” It takes time before I can ask those last few questions, as a certain level of trust is required. But man, I do love to ask questions and learning through those questions!

However, I’ve learned something with regards to my love for questions – I tend to favor only the questions that have answers.

I definitely have a double-standard when it comes to questions. I seem to only love questions when they have clear-cut answers, and not the ones that are like a vast, dark, chasm - where you fall deep into its belly, never to see the light of day again!

Ok, I admit. That was a bit dramatic.

But honestly, don’t some of the “unanswerable questions” feel that way – that you’ve fallen into some dark pit, never again to find your way out? Sometimes I feel like my life is filled with such chasms…

I love the quote above. It was given to me by a co-worker about 9 months ago. During that time, I was doing a lot of searching, as if my life was one big question mark. I was in the middle of trying to determine my career path, my place of worship, friendships to pursue and friendships to end, and wondering if I’d ever be given the privilege of being a wife and mom. I found myself with a lot of questions… And I found that I HATED not having any of the answers.

I have always struggled to digest the seemingly unanswerable questions.

A few years ago, a friend of mine challenged me on something. We had been talking about the ways in which I work through situations in my life, and all the emotions that go along with those situations. All throughout high school and college, I journaled just about every day. Writing was my therapy, and I found that so often, I felt tremendously better after journaling. However, this friend challenged me to think that maybe it was only a temporary fix, that maybe it was really hurting more than healing. See, as someone who has worked as an administrative assistant for most of my life, I have gotten really good at organizing… at compartmentalizing. Everything has its place and is in order. That is exactly how I tend to treat my own life – as something that can be organized and compartmentalized. Journaling was my vehicle to do just that. If I could get those thoughts outside of myself, then I could sort them out on paper, analyze them, solve them, and be completely separated from them. However, this friend challenged me to “sit” in those situations, in those emotions. She wanted me to sit in the emotion of sadness, or anger, or joy, or frustration – to experience those things, and not put them on paper where I could separate myself from them. She told me that by separating myself, I wouldn’t fully work through it, and I wouldn’t get to experience the growth that comes from working through it. There is a transforming power when we “sit” in those moments for a bit. She wasn’t suggesting I dwell on those things, but she was suggesting that I refrain from seeking an immediate solution… We humans are so much about immediate gratification, aren’t we? Plus, she noted that if I chose to sit there, it would provide the opportunity for the person who is actually doing the transformative work, to "do His thing." That by allowing myself to “sit” in those moments, I’m actually saying, “Ok God, I don’t know how to fix this. I’m going to sit in it. You’ve got to be the one to do something with it.”

I took her challenge. I went for almost an entire year without journaling. I would blog every so often, but that wasn't as raw as journaling. To this day, I still struggle to journal. I will journal on occasion, but it isn’t as natural as it once was. It almost feels foreign to me. But I do think there have been some great benefits to my journal vacation.

The concept was such an interesting one that I can’t help but come back to it, now that I find myself yet again in a period of questioning. Right now, in my life, I have a ridiculous amount of questions. And along with those questions, I have very few answers. My first instinct? Answer the questions – answer them, and move on. But I wonder if both my friend and Rilke are right in their ideas – to sit with the questions. What would it look like for me to sit with the questions? What would like look like for me to live in those questions until some day, I stumble into the answers? What would it mean if I lived each day knowing I might not EVER get the answers – or at least not the answers I expect, or even want for that matter? Would I be ok with that?

What if the questions are even more important than the answers?

I often wonder about the molding power of questions – especially those that are unanswered. When I think about unanswered questions – I can’t help but feel like all I can do is trust… Trust that somehow, in someway, God is going to work it out, that He’s got it under control, and that He knows what’s best.

Maybe that’s the point of questions… If I HAD answers to my questions, I wouldn’t trust – I wouldn’t need to. If I knew how everything was going to work out, I would have absolutely no need for faith and trust.

But it’s so uncomfortable, right? Sitting in un-answered questions… So uncomfortable.

At least I’ve found others who are questioning right along with me – there’s some comfort in the fact that everyone out there has just as many questions as I do.

Ok, maybe not as many… I do have a LOT of questions.

But as I continue to journey, and as I continue to question, I can only pray that I learn how to better embrace the questions – that I learn to love them, to sit in them, and to relish in the fact that they are molding me and shaping, building my hope, faith and trust into something they wouldn’t have been without the questions.

May I learn to be patient towards all that is unresolved in my heart, and to love the questions themselves, and may I learn to fully trust and hope in the One who has all the answers.

(photo courtesy of svilen001 at www.sxc.hu)

swell



I had every intention of sitting down to blog tonight, but I opened iTunes, and started listening to "Feel the Pull" by the Swell Season, and was instantly distracted.

Can I tell you how much I love Glen Hasard and Marketa Irglova of The Swell Season? I recently came across this song, and absolutely fell in love with it. I decided to see what videos there were on YouTube, and found the one posted above.

Here are things I love about this video:

1. I love that he's still playing on the ratty guitar he played in the movie "Once." So great. I love that it's all beat up - it's such a "loved" guitar.

2. Glen's beard. I heart beards. Enough said.

3. His explanation of the song... I love the moon, and know what kind of summer nights he's referring to. Those are my favorite kinds of nights, illuminated by the moon, where you feel the itch to go out for a drive, windows rolled down, and hands gliding through the wind outside...

4. I love the way Glen looks at Marketa... He looks at her so lovingly and so tenderly. I can only pray that some day I get to experience one of those "looks."

Ok, enjoy "Feel the Pull" by The Swell Season. It's lovely.

piano


Oh how I miss playing the piano.

Even though we got rid of our ugly yet ever-so-loved upright piano when I started college, I still, in almost every area of my life, had access to a piano. When I attended Judson, I'd often spend hours in the practice rooms playing my heart out. I cherished the moments at Ridgewood when I could sneak away during the workday, and spend some time in a dark sanctuary playing any song I could think of, and some that I played only once out of my imagination. Even when I worked at the Mission, there were times I could go down to the chapel and play...

But, where I live now, I have no piano. I do not have a job that has access to a piano. Alverno might have pianos SOMEWHERE, but I have no idea how to access them. I am not currently plugged into a church that provides me access to a piano.

It's been almost a year since I've even touched a piano. Craziness.

I attend a small group on Monday nights, and the house we meet in has a baby grand piano. I really struggle with envy because I would give anything to own a piano... I see this big, beautiful instrument every Monday night, and so desperately wish I had the room all to myself to play for hours...

And yet, I can't help but rip apart that "envy" and see how I don't deserve a piano. I think of all the things I have that I leave by the wayside. I got a guitar for my 21st birthday that I can barely play and rarely touch. I have a djembe that's not even in my possession right now... I felt so guilty for not playing it anymore when it could be used by someone else, that I gave it to my good friend Will for his youth group's worship band. I have a keyboard that sits in the basement collecting dust (and just for the record - a keyboard is no where NEAR the same as playing a piano... it does not suffice). Three different instruments that I do NOTHING with.

I recently emailed a friend of mine, asking her if she'd be willing to teach me how to play the violin. I've always wanted to learn the violin, and never knew anyone who played. So when I met her, my heart was filled with joy - maybe this was my opportunity to learn how to play violin! And yet, I thought about the fact that a) I don't have a violin as of right now, and b) if I got another instrument, it would just end up in the neglected pile like the rest of my instruments.

Piano playing though - not guitar playing, nor djembe playing, nor keyboard playing - was such a key component to my time spent with God. My times playing were some of the sweetest, most dear moments of my time spent with him. One of the things I loved is I'd play whatever my heart lead me to play... Later, when I'd try to "replay" it, I couldn't... It was almost as if the song had been created for that one moment between God and I - a moment that could not be duplicated or repeated, but would forever remain ours...

I miss those moments... and while I really do need to work through my envy and deep desire for the possession of a piano, I also need to spend time finding new ways to enjoy God, and to find those moments that cannot be duplicated... I need to see and experience God in a new way - I'm just not quite sure what that is yet.

(picture taken by gzed on www.sxc.hu)

joy - part whatever

I have found that there are moments in my life where it becomes far too easy for me to become overwhelmed by all that I am learning about and being challenged with… I often see these as “dark” moments, or unconquerable hurdles, when in reality, they’re just life lessons. The past couple of months could be described as challenging both spiritually and emotionally… Nothing catastrophic, and in light of all that is going on in the world, what I have been staring down could even be categorized as insignificant. None the less, I have had a lot of things going on in my head and heart – all of which I know are going to stretch me, and help me grow to become more of the person I’m meant to be. But, as I mentioned earlier, it is extremely easy for me to become overwhelmed by all of these things, and even take on the “woe is me” type attitude. It is not my desire to be in that place… It is not my desire to be obsessed and worrisome about situations I have no control over, and situations that will ultimately mold me. However, as someone who struggles with anxiety, I often have to make the conscious choice to focus my head and heart on other things…

And so, I am doing just that today…

There are those of you who followed my Rain of Wonder blog who know that every so often I posted a “joys” list. While I realize that those items and the items I list here today are not the source of real joy, they are indeed things that bring joy to my heart. Therefore, I’ve decided that today, in all of its sunshiny brilliancy, should be a “joys” day.

So, I present to you my “joys” list…

Joy – Part Whatever

1. Seeing childrens books come alive (hooray for Where The Wild Things Are)
2. Friends who send me encouraging verses from the bible
3. Little kids who push leaves down the sidewalk with shovels bigger than they are
4. Spontaneous singing session at work
5. Long drives down back roads with good tunes filling my ears
6. Adults who read children’s books to their adult friends (Ms. Wilhelms!)
7. My grammie… She was a spunky little lady, and I will miss her dearly.
8. Stellar home movies made by the O’Boyle sisters
9. Receiving music suggestions (can’t get enough of Wake Up by Arcade Fire)
10. Night walks while listening to the leaves whirl about which leads to…
11. Playing in leaves!
12. Talking about creative endeavors with creative people
13. Friends who make me laugh so hard I cry (Sara C and William!)
14. Telephone Pictionary (or whatever it’s called) – great game!
15. Pictures my friends post of their lives in Sudan and Uganda
16. Coming home to a huge stack of “slightly defected” childrens books!
17. Starting a new journal
18. Hearing people tell stories going on around them and in their lives
19. Random “dance parties”
20. Coloring in fantastically designed coloring books
21. Crazy imaginations
22. Red Onitsuka Tigers… and the adventures they induce
23. People who are passionate… and who inspire me
24. The Joneses – for all their creativity and “praise God” moments
25. Creating “life goals” and seeing them come to fruition


These are just a few of the things I’ve experienced over the past few weeks that have brought absolute joy to my heart… Things that even in my darkest moments - where I feel as though there’s nothing worth celebrating - make my heart joyous.

The list could go on and on… As I mentioned, I’ve created numerous lists like this… And speaking of lists, writing #25 has encouraged me to revisit the “life goals” I’ve created over the years, and redraft a new list… Some of them have already happened, some of them I find somewhat ridiculous now, and some of them will be transferred over to my new list. So be on the lookout for that…

But for now, I just wanted to share with you the things that bring me joy.

May I be a person that even in what appears to be a dark hour, claims the joyous and celebratory moments in life.

the day my tigers left me

I have a friend who likes photography, and needed a slight nudge in the area of creative ventures. Therefore, I issued her a Photo Challenge. A couple years back, a friend of mine introduced me to a thing called “A Story in 5 Frames” where an individual posts 5 photos that together, tell a story. I deemed this the perfect project for my friend, and sent her the following email:

Here’s your project, should you choose to accept it…

PHOTO PROJECT – A Story in 5 Frames

Today, you are asked to celebrate stories and the art of storytelling…

Your challenge: Take a handful of photos, and select 5 photos; create a story that connects these 5 photos

Your result: A story as told in 5 frames!

You may take as many photos as you like, but in the end, you can only choose 5. The story can be about whatever you’d like, but a story must accompany the 5 photos. Think like a kid. Be silly. Take photos of things that seem boring and uninteresting… and make them come alive!

Ideas to help jump start your creativity:

- Take a picture of a bug walking on the ground, and where he might be headed
- Take a picture of a leaf on the ground, and the home from which it fell
- Take a picture of an old barn, and an old cow… you fill in the rest
- Take a picture of a banged up car fender, and a random person who POSSIBLY drove the car…
- Take a picture of a wrinkled shirt, and the angry iron who’s on strike
- Take a picture of your shoes, and the places where they might want to walk today

My friend took the challenge, and produced some beautifully composed pictures of trees and leaves, and a story that explained the significance of the location where she took the photos… I was so proud of her for taking the challenge, and for doing something “on command.” In response, I offered that I too would also “take the challenge.”

And so, I did just that on my lunch hour today. A few photos ended up blurry in my hurry to take the photos, but you get the idea.

I decided to use one of the ideas I offered up to my friend: Take a picture of my shoes.

About a week ago, I got a new pair of Asics Onitsuka Tigers. Bright red. Brilliant, and beautiful. I’ve always wanted red shoes, and now I have them. I decided my shoes must be a part of my Story in 5 Frames.

And I so, I present to you…

The Day My Tigers Left Me
By Tory J. Dolan

NOTE: Playing “Eye of the Tiger” enhances this story. Just sayin’.

On a crisp and brilliant fall afternoon, my Onitsuka Tigers in all their red fiery passion, grew tired of the muted sand colored cubical in which they dwelt, and decided to venture into the city. Being foreigners in the US, these Japanese-born shoes realized there was an entirely new world yet to be discovered. However, looking out over the city, the Tigers longed for their home in Japan, and decided to search for “a little piece of home” among the Milwaukee natives…

And so, my Tigers left me.



They left the safety of their Michigan and Plankinton home, and ventured into the big bad Third Ward. Taking the scenic route along the River Walk, the Tigers realized it was nearing the lunch hour. Across the street stood the Public Market, beckoning the Tigers to explore the fine cuisine within its belly… To the Tigers' great delight, there was a sushi stand at the end of the Public Market maze. A little piece of home…



Continuing on their journey to find more of home in Milwaukee, the Tigers found themselves outside of a shoe store titled, Shoo. How unimaginative, they thought. But in that same moment, excitement filled their soles. More shoes, they thought? Perhaps we will find other Japanese homies within the shoe store? However, in the window towered a posse of socks… The presence of the sock gang in the window quickly became intimidating to them, and they realized that despite carrying the name “Tigers” and being the ferocious color of red, they were scared… Scared and slightly embarrassed, they backed down and continued on their way, leaving their potential mates behind.



Buddah? Is that a Buddha ahead, they wondered? Indeed! ARTASIA! The Tigers found their way to a brilliant store filled with treasures from the far East. Surely a store name with “Asia” in it MUST contain things that would feel like home. However, as they approached the Buddha, it appeared as if he expected something… With his hand in the air, the Tigers wondered what he wanted… Should they wave in return? Or maybe he was telling them to stop before entering. .. Saddened and confused by Buddha’s unexplained directives, the Tigers still were not feeling quite at home…



And then… Out of the darkness… Hope emerged.

HOT POP!

There, just down the street from ArtAsia, was the most brilliant of all stores – Hot Pop – a store filled with fantastic design and Japanese pop art plastered from floor to ceiling. In the window was a lovely pair of lime green roller skates – LIME GREEN ROLLER SKATES! All of the magical colors, clothes and artwork… so many wonderful things to behold!



It was then and there, at the ever-so-lovely Hot Pop that the Tigers knew… they’d found their piece of home.


This story is oh-so-silly, I know… But loads of fun! I can’t tell you how much fun I had dragging one of my co-workers with me while we took photos of my crazy red shoes around the Third Ward. Sometimes, we need to take moments to deeply enjoy life: to slow down, to be silly, to seek child-like activities, and to find ways of embracing the stories around us.

May I learn to slow down regularly, laugh often, and tell more stories!

write

What to write, what to write… I swear, I’ve started maybe 5 or 6 entries over the past week. So many things to think about… but I'm having trouble running with any one idea in particular…

Here are the things I've been thinking about/writing about:

The Jonses: My good friends were laid off of work, have 4 children (2 with autism), and are about to have their house repossessed. Yet, they’re still praising God… Ah-mazing.

Christine: A friend of mine leaves for Uganda in a few days to work with Invisible Children. She’s such an amazing woman… one I admire greatly. I’m anxious to hear of all her Africa adventures, and plan to live vicariously through her stories over the next year, until HOPEFULLY I can go visit her.

Suffering: I had a crazy good conversation with a dear friend of mine earlier this week about suffering. He challenged me hardcore on a couple of things… Still working those challenges out in my head. A lovely, lighthearted conversation indeed... (note sarcasm)

Civil Disobedience: Lots and lots of thoughts on the idea of civil disobedience lately, only further prompted by a movie I watched this morning. Another light topic, hey?

Poverty: Continuing on the "light" trail - I've been learning about and am trying to understand what poverty really is, especially its effect on education and educational systems, and hopefully will soon pick up the book "A Framework for Understanding Poverty" by Ruby Payne. Lots of perspective shifts going on in that book. Awesomeness.

Adopting Kids: Thoughts about foster homes and adoption, and what life would be like as a single mom… My brain can't seem to shut off on this topic...

All of these topics I’ve started and have yet to finish because I can’t seem to make any coherent entries out of them… They’re so stream of consciousness right now. Recently, I asked a couple of friends to give me a topic to write about - hoping maybe it would spark some sort of inspiration. They told me “love.” Talk about a broad topic! I decided not to tackle that one right now…

But for the very few of you who still check my blog periodically (sorry I’ve been so lazy and sporadic in my writing), what topic would you most want to hear about? Maybe if I had a prompting of sorts, I’d be more inclined to finish…

Otherwise, check back in a day or two… I hope to have one of the above ideas finished soon.

For those of you who still check this blog, I love you lots… You rock. Thanks for stickin’ with me, and being interested in my crazy journeys.

Much love to you.

kids & art


Over the past few months, my thought life has been consumed by curiosities and wondering as to what my future will hold. While there still is a plethora of questions dancing around my head, I have come to one conclusion: Whatever I end up doing, it must incorporate two things: kids and art.

The above picture was taken at the Elegant Farmer. A few months after I started working at the Milwaukee Rescue Mission, I had the pleasure of serving as a leader for the school's field trip to the pumpkin farm. I was a lucky girl in that I got to hang out with the K5 class all day, and was specifically matched with 3 of the most amazing little girls: Diamond, Azaria and Yanceiyah. I'd only been there for a few months, but in such a short time, I found myself loving these little kids so much... So much that I knew I could dedicate my life to helping them realize their potential, encouraging them to follow their dreams, and being a cheerleader in their lives.

Unfortunately, my life took a different path, and I ended up leaving the Mission despite my love for the kids I came to know. Not a day goes by though, that I don't think about those kids. I have a handful of pictures of them posted in my cubical at work, and am often asked about them. I'm able to proudly tell stories about them, and remember the life-changing moments I had with them... They really did change my life.

In addition to kids, art has always been a HUGE part of my life. As a child, I was always doing stuff: doodling on anything and everything, drawing with chalk, painting, making sculptures out of Playdoh, and more... As a high school student, I took as many art/drawing classes that I could, and I even started out as an art student in college. At some point, in my early 20's, I became really hard on myself and self-conscious about my artwork, and even had a few people crush my dreams about art being a part of my life. I decided to walk away. And yet, that desire to create has always been nagging me at the back of my mind.

So, I've come to a conclusion... My life MUST include kids and art. What that looks like, I don't know just yet. I've considered art therapy, art education, elementary education, and child psychology... I still don't know what path to take... But having this sort of clarity - to know what I'm most passionate about - is such a rad feeling!

Over the next few months, I hope to find opportunities where I can explore this passion, finding practical ways to figure out what path I should take. I hope to take art classes. I hope to work with kids. I hope to learn Spanish, giving me the ability to connect with even MORE kids in Milwaukee. I hope to find more people with the same passions as mine...

I can't wait to see what's ahead...

explorer




I’ve recently decided something – I need help. The last year of my life has been filled with very little creative. I realize “creative” is an adjective – describing a state of being, a project, an idea, etc. But my life has been lacking in all those areas – in all things creative. And I’ve realized recently, that unless I get some sort of help, this pattern, this non-creative way of living, will continue to be pattern. Nothing will change unless I actually DO something to make it happen… and in order to do so, I need help.

I’m listening to El Ten Eleven right now. They’re helping.

But more importantly, I was out and about this morning, and came across this book – “How To Be An Explorer Of The World” by Keri Smith. Awhile ago, I came across another book of hers – “Wreck This Journal.” I thought it was ingenious – it’s all about creative destruction (within the journal, of course). However, the book I came across today struck a different chord with me.

The beginning starts out with this list:

How To Be An Explorer Of The World

1. Always be looking. (Notice the ground beneath your feet.)
2. Consider everything alive and animate.
3. Everything is interesting. Look closer.
4. Alter your course often.
5. Observe for long durations (and short ones).
6. Notice the stories going on around you.
7. Notice patterns. Make connections.
8. Document your findings (field notes) in a variety of ways.
9. Incorporate indeterminancy.
10. Observe moment.
11. Create a personal dialogue with your environment. Talk to it.
12. Trace things back to their origins.
13. Use all of the senses in your investigations.

I realized something today as I was flipping through the first few pages of the book, and thinking about how I wander through life. I work as an administrative assistant – my job is noticing and remembering the details. I spend my day making sure I’ve caught every email, listened to every voicemail, caught every spelling error, arranged every meeting, and so on and so forth. 40 hours of my week revolves around DETAILS.

However, as I read this book, I started to realize that life – everything beautiful, wonderful, lovely, CREATIVE about life – is in the details. This book, in a round about way, says to slow down, take it all in – smell it, taste it, touch it, hear it, see it – and notice the things you otherwise would not.

The interesting thing about this book is it feels very elementary. It asks you to do things you did as a kid. Collect things you find on the ground. Spend time looking at them. Analyze them. Write stories about them. Play with them. All of these things I spent hours doing as a kid. But somehow, as I grow older, these types of activities seem like nonsense, and have become almost invaluable.

I love the quote on the back of the book:

“WARNING: To whoever has just picked up this book. If you find that you are unable to use your imagination, you should put this book back immediately. It is not for you. In this book you will be repeatedly asked to… suspend your disbelief, complete tasks that make you feel a bit strange, look at the world in ways that make you think differently, conduct experiments on a regular basis, and see inanimate objects as alive.”

The phrase that sticks out to me is – suspend your disbelief. I spend so much of my time disbelieving – that the world can change, that I can change, that I can do something I love AND get paid for it, that I can find the love of my life, that I can create something worthwhile…

And yet this book, this guidebook to discovering the world, asks me to suspend all disbelief. That is a HUGE request, one I’m not sure I can conquer... at least, not right away.

However, I’ve decided, that if I’m going to be creative – which I believe to be IMMENSELY valuable – that I will need a little bit of help, and I’m hoping, this book can provide me with the stepping stones I need to become more creative… and again, be filled with belief.

So I begin this journey… an exploration.

I'm interested to see where it takes me.

pull me

Pull Me

My voice isn’t strong enough
To call your name
My eyes aren’t clear enough
To see your face
My hands are far too numb
To feel your touch
And my heart is so hollow
That you’ve become lost

They say jump
And I ask how high
They say run
And I ask how far
They say smile
And I ask how long
They continue to ask
And I continue to fall.

You say come
And I continue to leave
You say trust
And I continue to doubt
You say leap
And I continue to stand strong
You say “I love you.”
And I continue to hear nothing.

Come as I am?
How could that be?
Know who you are?
How could THAT be?
I can’t see you,
Can’t touch you,
Can’t hear you,
Can't feel you...

Yet you want me...

You want me to come
With reckless abandon
But I don’t know how
Or if I'll ever make it...

So pull me…
With everything in you.
With all of your might…
If I really am worth it...
Then pull me.


It's been a long time since I've written this way... and tonight, I just sat down and wrote whatever came to me... I've never been good at writing poetry. I never learned meter, and rhyming has always felt so strange and forced to me. What it is that I do write, I'm not really sure even has a category... They're more just thoughts strung along together in some random fashion...

converse in winter

I love shoes. But, I’m not your typical shoe lover. Most women who claim to love shoes collect all sorts of fancy shoes – sexy stilleto heels, shiny patent leather flats, cute summery wedges… Not me though. I love sneakers, kicks, tennis shoes… whatever you’d like to refer to them as. Especially of the low-top Chuck Taylor persuasion. I also absolutely adore flip-flops. I could live in a pair of converse or flip-flops year round, as I absolutely love them. While my converse collection is pretty pathetic (I only have 4 pair), I do rather enjoy them, and always have my eyes open for new colors and styles.

I hate winter. But most of you who live in Wisconsin know why. Too much snow. Sub-zero temperatures. I find nothing fun in those two facts. I’ve lived here for 28 years – why, I’m not entirely sure. But I do know one thing – I hate winter and everything that comes with it. Ok, well, snow ball fights can be fun… I guess that’s one benefit.

However, as I was driving in my car today, with temperatures slowly sinking closer and closer to zero, I realized something – my love for shoes, and my hatred of winter most definitely do not mix.

Obviously, flip-flops in the wintertime isn’t even a consideration – though I did go to school with a guy who ran around all winter completely barefoot. But wearing converse in the winter isn’t completely out of the question – I mean, they are closed toed shoes. They should be good, right?

I remember once when I was in high school, I went sledding not wearing boots, but wearing converse instead. I guess I must not have believed in boots. Until this past winter, I haven’t owned boots since I was a little kid (minus the Dr. Martin phase I had in high school). I went sledding wearing nothing on my feet but a pair of socks and a pair of converse shoes. I remember at the end of my sledding excursion, I couldn’t feel my feet. Literally. I’d wiggle my toes, massage them, and all I could feel was a little bit of pressure, but barely anything else. They were bright red, almost purple. I was so uncomfortable for a couple of hours, and they hurt the worst when they started warming up. And yet, I know for a fact, I didn’t learn my lesson that day. I’m pretty sure I sported the converse sledding attire at other points throughout my teenage and early adulthood years.

Today, I found myself doing the same thing. No, I did not go sledding… But I wore my converse shoes out in 6 degree weather, and while driving in my car – toes near frozen - I came to the realization that trying to force my love for converse and hate for the severe cold is NOT a good idea.

Now, in classic “Tory” fashion, I started thinking more about this idea – the fact that I insist on wearing paper thin shoes out in ungodly temperatures. It made me start to think about how often I force something because of my deep love for it, even if clearly it is not good for me.

Who I spend time with, how I spend my time, where I work, where I go to church – these are all things that I can either love like converse, or hate like winter. If they’re more like winter, I pull a bear-like move, and hibernate – basically, I do my best to hide away from the things I cannot stand.

However, with the things I love, so often, I try to wear the converse when the weather man says to put on your fattest boots and Alaskan parka.

Take relationships… There have been plenty of times where I’ve been in unhealthy friendships, and yet, because of my love for that person – because of the comfort they bring, the attention they give me, or whatever reason they possess that allows me to love them so much, I continue to keep them close. I wear the converse in winter.

Working at the Rescue Mission is another prime example… I loved it there. Those kids were my life. However, I wore converse there for quite some time. I got to a point where I knew my feet would freeze, and I could potentially lose a toe or two if I stayed. It was such an unhealthy environment, and it was not only causing problems for me and my heart, but I’m sure it caused other people pain. There came a time, where, despite my love for the Mission – I needed to give it up. I needed to do what was good for me, and for the Mission. I needed to put away the converse, and put on the boots and parka.

I have a few pair of converse in my life right now during a time of winter. There are a few things that may require me to let go, and put on the boots and parka. There are things where I need to consider my health, my spirituality, and my sanity – rather than my deep love for laced canvas with rubber toes.

The converse are hard to leave behind… But in all honesty, can I truly enjoy wearing them if I’m miserable? If my toes are frozen, a color that resembles bruised flesh rather than a normal rosey peach, what is the point in forcing it? Sure the converse are comfy and look cute, but what purpose are they serving? What good comes of it?

There comes a point in time where wearing converse is well worth suffering for. But there are times where it’s time to put them away, and wear what provides me safety from the dreadful winter looming outside.