From My Sketchbook: The Portrait Project

Call me crazy, but I've decided to draw a portrait of every person that I know. It may be nearly impossible, but I love drawing portraits so I figured that this would be a good way to get better at drawing them. I've started with a self-portrait and will do family members next then go on from there. To keep myself from giving up before I even start, I'm not thinking too far ahead; I'm just taking this one portrait at a time. For privacy reasons, I'll only be posting portraits on here that I get permission from the person in question to do so (and since I'll probably be too shy to tell anyone that I've drawn a portrait of them, it'll most likely only be my family seen on here!)

Watching the Parade Go By

First comes the police cars, lights flashing, escorting several solemn faced veterans carrying flags. Everyone stands as they pass by; the kids know not to be looking for candy just yet. After them comes the fire trucks; making everyone jump each time they sound their horns. Then, when the large trucks full of waving firemen passes by, the real parade begins.

What is it about parades, anyway? They all follow the same patterns, with the same types of floats; and if you go to the same community parade for several years you probably know each float by heart. So what brings people to these things year after year? If you ask just about any kid, they’ll say it’s the candy (that would have been my reply just a few years ago.) Whatever is the case, I know that no matter how many parades I see, I look forward to them every year.

This year I’ve gotten the chance to go to two of them; the one at our old home, that I’ve gone to for as long as I can remember, and one at our new place (I don’t want to even talk about the amount of candy my little sister got from both of them!) After the parade here in our new home, a thought struck me; for all the years we’ve lived in our old community, I never knew a single person in the yearly parade; but after living in our new home for less than a year now, I know a large number of people in this parade. 

Once, when I was a lot younger, I was in a parade. It was for my church’s VBS and I found the whole thing kind of boring. I wasn’t interested in looking out at other people, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much, and I was tired of waving. Plus, one of my best friends was on the opposite side of the float with a large, paper Mache volcano between us (the theme for that year’s VBS was “Lava-Lava Island.") So now when I see a little girl with a drooping smile, I completely understand. I prefer to stay on the spectator’s side of the street.

Note: all the above pictures are from the most recent parade at our new home

This Is Home

I know, this post is just a little bit late (almost a whole year late!), but life’s been pretty busy since the move. Yup, that’s right; My family has moved! Due to an employment ending and another one springing up; my family has followed God’s calling to come down from the suburbs of the cities to the farming country of Minnesota. We haven’t done something drastic like moving to California or anything like that; we‘re still in the same state. My dad’s brother-in-law and nephew had been building a senior living home and wondered if my parents would come and be the care takers of the place. With my dad’s job ending, the offer couldn’t have come at a better time. So here we are, only a few months away from it being a year now and I’m finally making a post about it.

Our house is on the edge of a small town with a small population. The main street is only a few blocks away and there’s only about two or three open businesses on it; the grocery store having closed down a year before we moved here. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining; I think this has been and still is the greatest adventure of my life! As a writer, I find the whole atmosphere of small town life to be inspiring; and when I look out over the endless farmland all around, seeing where the deep blue sky meets the freshly plowed earth, I feel as if anything is possible.

 

 

Do I miss the cities? Not very much. I love the cities, but I also love the country; so I’m happy wherever I am. One thing about the cities I do miss a little is the architecture. The buildings with glass reflecting the color of the sky, the new world of metal blending with the old world of stone; they’re artworks that tower above my head. I admit, I really don’t know much about architecture, and when it comes to drawing it I’m hopeless without a picture reference. There’s just something about being in the downtown area of the cities that makes me happy. If you asked me where I want to live when I‘m older, the instant reply would be New York City; but after a moment of thinking I would add that if I didn’t move anywhere else and stayed right here for the rest of my life, I would be perfectly happy. This is home now.

30 Day Photo Challenge

30 Day Photo Challenge, a set on Flickr.

A couple of weeks ago I finished a photo challenge that I had decided to take. The challenge was to take a photo everyday for 30 days for that day's prompt. Most of them were obvious and easy, such as "something blue" or "sunset." So to add another challenging element, I decided to take each prompt as metaphorically or creatively as possible. Having to force myself to think of a creative photo each day was very simulating for my imagination and the longer I did it, the easier it got to think of an idea. I've put the results of those 30 days onto my Flickr account, in each description you can find which day and what the prompt was for that picture.

An Announcement

Ink Blotch

Life Through a Pencil

The Adventure of Life

These are the three blogs that I've been juggling for a some time now. Each one has been an outlet for my different passions; my writings, my drawings, and the other for everything else happening in my life. But just the other day I had a revelation: why split my energy and attention between these three when I can combine them all into one ultimate blog? So that's what I'm doing, with the help of this tutorial on how to merge blogs together. Since I've always thought of The Adventure of Life as my main blog, the other two will be moved here.

From My Notebook: The Dawn of Hope

The is a short story that I wrote for a competition, but sadly it didn't win. I wrote this with the scenery of Iceland in mind as the backdrop, and for inspiration I listened to the Icelandic band, Sigur Rós, while I wrote.

The sun rises in quite splendor; a yellow jewel on the green horizon. The day had won victory over the night and now she brightens the blackened sky; turning to grey, white, then blushing pink. No one had ever seen so beautiful a sunrise as this sunrise now. But for the two boys on the vast empty plain, after enduring the horrors of last night, they hardly notice it. They hardly notice the mist, catching the rays of sunlight and refracting it into hues uncountable. They don’t see the quiet stream babbling a short distance off, clear as crystals and as if it had been squeezed from the clear blue sky itself. No, they notice none of the land’s surrounding beauty; at least, not now. Instead, their attention is upon the frightening wounds the elder has; ugly reminders of the dark night that now lies behind them.

The younger of the two, Charles, is much the junior of the wounded boy. It is he who ties the torn pieces of cloth over the injuries; being directed by his older brother, William. When the gruesome task is finished, and the make shift bandages are tightly on and gathering blood, the two sit side by side; finally noticing one kindness that nature has bestowed upon them. Green vegetation, soft and cool, lines the otherwise rocky terrain in a thick carpet. Their fingers sink deep into the blanket of living leaves, and they breathe in the fresh air as if they had never before taken a drink of air; like a baby just moments in the world.

“Is there any food left that we could have for breakfast?” The elder asks, brown eyes trying to hide his pain. Charles shakes his head sadly, chin trembling.

“No. All the food was in your pack… there’s nothing, except some beef jerky that I have.”

“Oh…” And for a moment, those eyes, bravely holding back the fears of the night, are flooded with anxiety; a flicker of doubt. William knows he must be brave though, so that flicker is quickly disguised with a grin. “See? God is already providing for us! We’ll have a kingly feast of jerky. And later, God will provide for us again. There’s no reason to worry!” This last comment was more to himself then to his younger brother, but still, brightened by his older brother’s confidence, the fear lifts slightly from Charles’ face.

But no amount of bravery on his older brother’s part can completely dispel the dread upon Charles’ heart. For he is not too young to understand the peril they are in. The vast plain of heathery plants seems to stretch out forever; the sky has turned overcast as it often is here and he can see a thick fog rolling in from the distance. The wind has grown hard and cold, whistling over jagged edges of rock and it seems to blow away all other sounds, leaving a dead silence despite its rushing. This all had been so wonderfully mysterious and beautiful to him before last night, when his brother was in good health and led the way with confidence and a back pack full of food; but now all that is gone and the lonely splendor of the landscape only frightens him.

It had been foggy that previous night, no breath of wind stirring the wisps of mist that lay thick over the land. Even though it was nearly impossible to see, they hadn’t stopped when the last ray of golden sunshine receded into shadows. Charles had asked his brother why they kept going after dark; William explained that the camp was only a few miles ahead. The land they were crossing that night was an area full of sharp rocks and sudden drop offs, and the elder said that it wouldn’t make for a very comfortable or safe place to spend the night without gear. So they continued on, their progress being very slow. William knew how treacherous this place was at night, even if the fog hadn’t been so thick. They had to pick each step with care. Even with all their caution, they couldn’t have kept the accident from happening; the night was much too evil to let them pass unharmed. Suddenly, with no warning, a seemingly solid rock that the older brother had set his foot on gave away and he lost his balance. Falling head long he tumbled down into a deep chasm. He couldn’t keep from crying out in pain as he had slid, the whole side of his body being ripped at by the jagged rocks. His voice seemed muffled, swallowed up by the surrounding fog. As he went over the edge, William caught himself just in time on some rocks jutting out; the pack he carried over his shoulder, filled with life giving food and water, continued down without him, down into the black abyss. Charles had only just heard his brother fall, saw him slip out of sight in the mist and his following muffled cry, when he found himself alone in the eerie white mists. “William?... William?” Charles called after his brother, voice squeaky and raw with freight. He had got down on his hands and knees, after fully realizing what had happened to William, and crawled forward, ignoring the sharp pain of the pieces of rock going into his soft palms. It felt like hours to Charles, inching forward little by little, frantically begging God to let his brother be alive, before he came upon the rock edge, going down immeasurably. In truth, it had only been a few minutes, but the mists swirling around him, filling his eyes with nothingness, gave the illusion of frozen time; his heart giving the only beat of life in those dead moments of fear. It was a miracle in itself that he did not steer too far to the left or to the right and missed his brother clinging to life completely. It had only been faith and hope that kept William hanging on for so long; willing his fingers, scraped raw on the rocks, to hang on… to be strong enough. If not for his own sake, for he did not fear death, but for Charles’ sake. Because, without a leader, the young boy would surely parish as well in the harsh lands alone. But he couldn’t have held on for much longer, with the numbing cold loosening his grip and turning his muscles to liquid. Charles had gotten there only just in time. The darkness of that night did not prevail; they would live to see the dawn.

The wind blows strong, icy and biting. A tear escapes and rolls down Charles’ cheek. “It’s going to be alright.” His brother says, seeing that single tear. “You’re big enough to take care of us both now… I have faith in you, Charles”

The young boy swallows hard, wiping away that one betraying tear. He nods, resolving in his heart that he would keep himself and William alive until rescue. This much he knew he had to do.

He stands and points to the far horizon. “I think… I think I know the way.”

For Those who are Searching

This is the first gallery that I've made with my Flickr account, Blue Gem 10. I have been fascinated with the idea of telling a story or capturing an emotion with Flickr's galleries for quite some time now, but was always a little afraid to get started. But I finally took the time to put one together; getting inspired by Sarah Ann Loreth's photography. The first image in this gallery, which is one of hers, was the spark for the whole thing. What I was trying to capture in this gallery is the feeling of searching for a more meaningful life.

For Those who are Searching, a gallery on Flickr.