The Call - my sister and me

Ever seen the Narnia movies? There is a song titled "The Call" that I used in many speeches to help explain many things in my head... in my heart. I like how music can match thoughts and help get people through pain. I think that is why I love the fine arts as a whole; Its takes away pain.

My biggest pain was the topic of our psychology class today. My adoption situation kept me from fulfilling assignments and has caused many issues this month. I can't make a real family tree. I don't know my medical history. Etc. Etc. Etc. My sister and I are very close because we are both adopted, but today I finally understood why it is even harder for her. Our class discussed the affects of alcohol and drugs on the fetus and what disabilities the child must deal with IF it survives birth. My sister survived birth and 16 wonderful years... And today, I feel a pain... that I cant cure for her. I can't do anything to change the facts. All I can do is love her. Sometimes I wonder if that is enough. She is my other half. I've sacrificed so much for her, and I would give up everything I own... Everything I love... to give her what she needs. I can't imagine life without her. She is my biggest blessing.

Right now, I'm making a decision. I'm tired of being told my family is going to hell. I am tired of being treated like being who I am isn't good enough. I'm tired of having friends that only are my friends when it is convenient for them. I am so tired, that art isn't enough. I pray and pray... but my prayers haven't been answered yet. I think I turned down the biggest opportunity in my lifetime to try and make Des Moines my home... but its not. I got 23 art residency offers for BFA Studio and BA Art History and some even for Art Therapy (which is my goal after undergrad). I turned down every last one of those offers. Every last one of them! I look back and think maybe God gave me those offers that I so desired because I deserved to be happy... not because he was testing me and trying to see if I would stay with this fellowship. He was giving me gifts and I turned them down!

Now, I'm dancing to get myself though the week in one piece.... calling my best friend every night so I don't cry to sleep. I drag myself out of bed every morning. My sister needs me. I need to be happy. And I need to fix this. I just don't know how to do that yet.

So I listen to "the Call"... and make my words grow into battle cries.... bring my memories before my eyes... because right now, thats all I can do. Wait for the next call to find what I left behind... what I didn't have to leave behind.

no one is "just like me"

This summer I learned a lot about myself. I was forced to look back and reflect upon my oh-so-long 19 years of life. I am one lucky girl. In the mist of the hell I was, and still am, confronting, I was given an amazing support system. As of two hours ago, my reflections were debated and concluded as worthless by this very support system. They told me that I do art because it is reliable, safe, and something that no one can do "just like me". I am my own person and I strive to be different. After reliving my past through one hell of a conversation... I realized that they were right. Isolated and left to cry my brains out... I admitted hurt. I am hurting by trying not to get hurt. That may not make sense to any of you, but I am afraid to get hurt... but by only doing art, I hurt. Without art, I hurt even more. There is no winning for me here.

Art is who I am. I can't distinguish between the two anymore. And I don't want to. All I want is art. I long for art when I am not in the studio. I can't enjoy time with friends... not simply because of the time limitations in my schedule... I cant enjoy that time with friends because when I am with my friends, I'm not whole. I feel that I am only friends with people when it is convenient for their religious and social views. I am not accepted the way I am. I am art. Art is politics and debates... its criticism and acceptance even in failure... its the risks and outcomes... its annoying,and uncomfortable and strange... irritating... confrontation... the feeling like you are on top of the world... confined and released... air.... joy... peace... LIFE. Art is life.

And if you tell me its all about jesus or all about greek parties, there is a high/ almost 100% chance that I would slap you right about now. I believe in Jesus and God... I also believe in support systems like greek row... but those fellowships or groups shouldn't define you or limit your life to one thing. What are you passionate about? What do you do outside of prayer? I am passionate about art. Art is not clearly defined. Art can be anything... anywhere... with or without anyone. Art makes me ... me. And it makes me feel safe.

Take that away, and you're at a loss... because no one can do art like me. No one can be me. This is my life ... and my time... so if you don't like me as I am .... if you don't like my art...

Screw/ *put "f" word here* you.

And if you think that my family is going to hell for being full of individuals with different cultures, passions, and a strength that you wish you had...

Repeat the above swear numerous times.

There is nothing left to say to you. You know who you are.

"Fritzi and Me"

The other night I watched a movie titled "Marley and Me" with the understanding that it was supposed to be comical. I admit that parts of the movie did meet that expectation, but the rest of it reminded me of "Fritzi and Me"... my home videos with my dog. 

There was a time when I was overweight, had braces, and only 4 friends at the lunch table... only 2 of those friends kept in touch through high school... one through my first year of college... but people are people. Sometimes, it can be hard to rely on people to stick with you through hard situations. It is hard to find people that will love you  no matter what happens or what other people say. Thats why when I turned 8, and my sister was turning 4, we adopted Fritz (my dog). I chose to put on an act for years... and I realize that in the end, it has always been "Fritzi and Me". I left messages on the house phone while I was in Italy so that he could hear my voice on the answering machine. I skyped him as much as I could at school. He takes road trips with me to St. Louis and back. He watches movies, goes running, listens to me, cries with me... He is my best friend. He knows more about me than anyone else in the world. He has all my secrets.

Now, my best friend is 11 years old... and he is losing function of his legs. I think I must have been contagious or something, but he is old for a dog. He is moving so much slower and he is getting pushed aside so people can admire the new puppy my sister just brought home. He looked and me and there was a moment where I empathized with him. I know what it is like to be pushed aside for the younger more attractive one... but Fritz and I ... we're something special. He makes me feel special. We were outcast, but we had and still have each other. I just hope it lasts longer than I have been told.

In the movie "Marley and Me", the dog has to be put down. I'm afraid that may be me soon... at the vet with my dog. The only difference is that its not any ordinary dog... He's my other half. 

The Summer of 2009

This summer I decided that I was going to figure out where I was going with my art. Art is a big part of who I am and how I react to situations. 

Art has pushed me this summer:

I went to Italy only to confirm how much I love what I do. I learned more in 5 and 1/2 weeks than I did in the entire past year of college. This struck a bit of a nerve with me once I returned home and compared the amount of SACI work, and the quality of that work, to my Drake work. There was not only more SACI work, but my SACI work was much better than the Drake art work. (YIKES)

Art has been my joy:

I shared my love for drawing with little kids in Impruneta. I love when smiles are contagious. I love how I can share something I am passionate about with other people around the world. ART IS A UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE! HOW COOL IS THAT?!

Art has been my therapy:

Since my return from my crazy adventures via vespa, I have become very weak. Its like one of my "weak days" times ten. While incapable to move by entire body by myself, I had full control of my hands. I was able to alter my photos (via computer), print them, trace, and color alterations into a twenty piece series of architectural drawings based on my favorite places in Italia. Though I did watch my fair share of NCIS and BONES, I spent majority of my time drawing in the company of my family's two dogs. 

Art has always been my therapy. When something interesting or important crosses my mind, I write how I would draw that "something". My thoughts can be read later and applied to paper, canvas, walls... haha. I found that the world is my medium. I say that with limitations, b/c like me, everything on earth has its limitations.

Within my limitations... I have decided that I will pursue art therapy and help people use art as a method of recovery, as I have used it many times for such purposes. My goal is to, one day, work at the Children's Memorial Hospital of Chicago... spreading smiles to people that really need them. 

How I'm going to meet my goal, I'm not sure yet :) I'll find a way. Even if it isn't Children's Memorial... and life doesn't work how we plan, everything usually works out for the best anyway. In the meantime - having a goal is a good place to start.

Thank you.

I know that my thoughts and emotions have been in a constant ADD phase and I apologize. I also am sorry if I have randomly stopped you for a hug or a tissue and you were on the move/ on the way to a final exam.

I just really want to express my gratitude. So many of you went out of your way to get to know me and help me. This year has been extremely difficult - not simply in "the adjusting to college" bit, but academically, physically, emotionally difficult. 

You served me when I couldn't serve you:

When I was sick, numerous people would run for tylenol. People would sacrifice their time to assist me in my healing... and still do on my "weak days".

I even remember throwing up in someone's car... But no one yelled at me, or freaked out... they just helped me back into bed and waited for me to fall asleep.  

When I cried, people knew what to say, gave me hugs, distracted me from what bothered me. 

I would bombard people with questions and "hypothetical situations" at the most inconvenient time, yet you opened your hearts and answered me... even if it took 3 hours of your day when you could be studying.

I remember 2-D projects in the Carpenter lobby ... half of our bible study stayed in that lobby until I finished. People got me caffine and made me laugh until I cried. Staying up until 3 or 4 am with you guys isn't hard at all! :) In fact, I really enjoy spending time with you - no matter what time of day or night it is.

Now, having proved how much you loved me in the way you have served me, I have to thank you. You have become a huge part of my heart. I don't know if I could have made it through this year with out you!!! I MEAN THAT! I couldn't have done anything with out you. 

Thank you for simply being there. 

*Round of applause*

Thank you for being you.

I cry because I care

In the last year, I have gotten almost everything I ever wanted. Seriously! 

I got friends who really care about my well-being.

I got a relationship with God that is always growing.

I found a passion for art and music that I thought I lost.

I got into an extremely competitive summer art program half way across the world that could basically launch my art into the gallery work force.

I get to go to a monastery that I dreamed of stepping foot inside for years.

I have gotten a lot closer with my Dad and my Mom.

ETC. ETC. ETC.

Everything is falling into place. Part of me is so excited b/c for once in my life, God's plan seems to be matching mine.

Another part of me feels like I'm making a mistake following this dream. In four years, I wont be in Iowa. I will be in an art residency and masters studio classes... Des Moines isn't a place where artists launch a career. I keep telling myself, God is in control - but everything I want, he has given me... except the capability to stay. I'm good at something, but that something isn't here. But the people that I love are here. 

I have people here who care so much. A summer is just long enough for everything and everyone to change... long enough to break my heart. This week has already ripped me into a million pieces. I have cried to God for help... 

Last night was especially hard. I haven't enjoyed myself that much in such a long time. 1:30 am rolls around and almost everyone in that room was asleep... I tucked the boys in and watched more Star Trek (yes, I know... sounds crazy), but I realized how loved I actually was, and felt. Not just the concept of having that love, but that the people in that room have stuck with me through a lot of bad situations this year, and I haven't known them that long. And there I was tucking them in and saying goodnight to my brothers in christ - that have loved me before I knew what love really was. 

So as the really bad actors bounced pretending their ship had been hit, I began to cry. I am glad no one noticed, but at the same time... I think my tears are justified. 

I am loved. I am leaving. And I am scared out of my mind... b/c I don't want to lose people in the process of doing what I love. I don't want to lose the family I have here.

So I cry... I have been crying myself to sleep for about a week now... I cry because I am loved. I cry because I love. And I cry because I care.

Daddy

I know my family is 6 hours away, but I worry a lot about them.

I know my family can take care of themselves, but I want to help them.

I know my family is capable of so many things, but I want to teach them.

In the economic state of our country and the changes we are being told to make, people's lives are in panic. People are feeling loss in an opposite way that I am. My family and I are fortunate and have so many things that others dont, but when it comes down it...

I have been working hard and trying to do good - in a feeling of loss. I have been trying to help, but it keeps me from little things that other people have. People may panic, but have so much to drive them. 

I dont have time to be with my friends. I dont have time to paint the streets for the 100th year of Relays. I dont have time to go to dinner with people. I dont have time to go to church events. I DONT HAVE TIME and it is THE MOST HORRIBLE FEELING you could ever have. 

Heck, I dont have time to do laundry. Chores! In College! 

And if I didn't get bread for my PB Sandwches a few days ago, I probably wouldnt be eating!

I've learned that I am a lot like my Daddy. He is a very independent person. He is a strong person. He is a stubborn person. He is a loving person.

And When you love someone, you help them.

When you love someone, you take care of them - if they need you or not

When you love someone, you teach them all you know -  so that they can live to their full potential. 

I used to say that my Daddy was anti-social and a workaholic but I was wrong. I just didn't understand. He works with his friends everyday. He learns from them everyday. And He loves his job. He does what he loves, which not only allows him a network of friends with so much in common, but his job provides for a family... He cares for us. Countless days he has helped me with homework, gone to performances and recitals, played catch in the backyard, took me to dance classes, let me play piano at the same time as the "big game", protectively watched me do flippy-du-dads on the trampoline from the kitchen window, reminded me of the flying worm and kiki... 

He was and is always there. For me. For his friends. And his co-workers. 

He has been making changes as I have. He has been feeling pain and loss like I have. He is very much a similar individual as myself. 

I am thankful for my Daddy. 

I am so thankful that I know these words are not enough... never will be enough.

You chose me. You have taken me in. You have loved me, helped me, and cared for me... and I cant even count how many times you worried about me :)

You were there. You are here. You will always be here. 

The heart is a powerful thing.