From My Sketchbook: O Fire Flower (Inspiration from a Child)

This was an assignment to illustrate and be inspired by a child's writing. My little sister wrote the poem, and I used part of it; making the typography look like a kid wrote it.

"Oh fire flower, you're so beautiful.

You light up the sky."

From My Sketchbook: Frodo Baggins (The Lord of the Rings)

I had been watching the behind the scenes of the Lord of the Rings movies on my portal DVD player when a clip of the ending come on. I decided to pause the video and try to draw this portrait. This was one of the more challenging projects I've taken on so far; faces are always hard subjects, but I actually enjoy drawing them the most.

From My Sketchbook: Small Bird

This drawing that I did is from a lesson in Violet's Devotional Sketchbook. I ended up using it as the cover of a birthday card I made for my dad and now it's framed and hanging up next to another drawing I made for him for Father's day when I was really little (ironically, that one is of a bird as well!)

A Walk in the Mall

The choir, they sound like angels. Standing a story above them in the Mall of America I am halted in my steps as they start one of my favorite songs, the haunting "Once Upon a December" from Anastasia. And I stay, listen till the song is completely over, enchanted by the beautiful voices rising to the high ceiling of the mall. Never have I enjoyed a song more than this one, sung by high school girls in the middle of the busyness of Mall of America. I leave with a smile on my face, spirit lifted. Still I listen as I walk away and they start another song; hear it fade slowly with each step. A little ways on a beautiful water fountain catches my eye; the water is pure blue and running quietly, bubbling over the weathered looking basin. I pause again and watch it, listen to it and I remember the sound of the voices, of the choir singing heavenly, soul haunting lyrics. People walk past and I am oblivious to them in this moment of peace. But the moment quickly passes and I walk on; surrounded by a sea of faces. I look into them all; faces happy and smiling, faces tired and emotionless. My soul flies... God’s beauty can be found everywhere if one only looks. I walk through stores, browse the quiet Barnes and Noble when I need a rest, and smell delicious fragrances in a chocolate shop. Life is sweet, just like the sample of candy I nibble on.

Keep your eyes open and you’ll find the most enchanting things in the most unexpected places. This is what I have found to be true in the Mall of America.

From My Notebook: Grey Raindrops

This short piece I wrote is inspired by Enya's song; "Trains and Winter Rains"

It’s chilly, not the temperature; my heart. The train car bumps and jostles around, I can hear the wheels turning endlessly. The light has faded behind the black storm clouds and as I gaze out the window, millions of little raindrops splatter the pane, streaking past and blurring together into a cold grey. I can’t make out the buildings it’s so dark; so grey… everything is grey; even my mood. I think about the home I’m headed to, and I wonder if she’ll be there… probably not. There’s never a hot meal prepared and waiting for me when I arrive, just empty bedrooms. On nights when I come home to find that she’s left without explanation as to where, I look up at the endless stars and wonder… is this all there is? Silent rooms, take out cartons and empty eyes. The train slows to a stop… my stop. But I don’t get out. I sit… lost in thought; empty thoughts of grayness, and the train rumbles on. There’s no point in going home, it’s not even a home to go to anymore, not with a wife gone countless nights and when home, a cold glance greets me with no word. So I travel on… but where to? The grey skies whisper my name, and I think… what if this train took me all the way to the stars? To those friends that shone down upon me on those lonely nights… I might even feel happy again, to open my eyes and find myself surrounded by eternal beauty. The city rushes past, various shades of grey blurring into one; my life stares at me from the window. I travel on, where to? No one knows.

From My Notebook: Little Red Ball

The ball soars upward, a streak of red in the perfect blue sky. When will it come back down to my waiting hands? Was I really that strong to throw it so high? 

But then I realize; it’s not coming down.

I gaze up at it, a small red dot, growing ever smaller. I laugh and wave good bye to it. It is free, rising above the world of gravity; through chilly clouds, past soaring birds. Brave little ball, how scary it must be to be the first to show the world that laws are only words. 

Up and up it climbs, what a view it must see! For an instant I wish I could be up there with it, to be so free. But life still holds me bound to earth at the will of gravity. Still further up it goes, past comets and shooting stars. Will it return home? What a brave little ball, shining up in the galaxies, brighter and happier than any star around it. 

“Billy, are you going to toss me the ball?” I hear daddy’s voice. I flinch, back in the real world. 

Looking down I see that same little red ball in my hands. I laugh again and toss it to dad.

“Don’t worry, little ball, I know where you’ve been!” I whisper to it as it flies through the air, up and up, free! Then gravity pulls it back, the invisible leash drawing tight. 

It arches gracefully and lands in my dad’s hand.

The Car Drive Home

The road stretches on and on, into blankness and all I see are pairs of red brake light of the cars ahead; the white headlights of the cars rushing past and all of these floating lights being caught in the raindrops on the windshield, creating millions of tiny stars. The music on the stereo takes the main stage over conversation as I gaze out the black windows, absorbed in my own thoughts. I think about an upcoming writing competition I’m about to enter into. With all the competitions I’ve ever entered in my life (mostly coloring pages from the local newspaper when I was little) I have never won a single one, never even gotten feedback from them. All these memories of failed competitions make me wonder what’s the use of entering another one? There will always be someone better at what I do out there and the judges will always pick them. But then a quote comes to mind,

“Use talents you posses; the woods would be very silent if no birds sang there except those that sang best.”

 And then I realize the point of competitions is not so much to win, but to do your very best, to always be pushing yourself further and to fail gracefully. For it is how we deal with failure that says who we really are, not our number of accomplishments. So I resolve, right here, on this quite drive home; that I will never give up, even if my failures are 100 to 1. Because I know that every rejection of my work only makes me better, and I never know when this next entry will be the one that’ll win. My hopes rise high, and as we get closer to home, closer to the end of the car trip, I look up to the beautiful stars that sprinkle the night sky. They may be obscured by the lights of this world and the clouds and rain, but still they are there, hidden jewels, waiting for their time to shine.