The Crossword

With arms in my lap and hunched over I sit at the table. My mind reels to figure out an answer. The Empress of Russia?

Well, what about the one that goes through it? Amerindian... Wow, so who really knows all of theses answers just off the top of their head. "Let's whip out the cheat book"

Pages flip from crabby, to organic, and to Salem. Another day at it and almost done but not complete.

Here I am ready for anything to begin. So uh, who is hungry?

A New Beginning

A new year and a new beginning. It is true that longings eventually subside when not fulfilled and so they have with me. I have realized that it is I that must make a niche for myself. I have grown up. For so long I have depended on others to shelter me from the worries of the world and the struggles of life, but now I must face them, challenge them, and become who I am supposed to.Day by day I will build my walls until I can stand against any storm.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Don't Forget

It is all too often that we forget what life is about. It is about the simple smiles, the laughs, the tears, the love, and joy of being with loved ones. We get so busy in the things that we deem important, not that they are not important, but we sometimes push what really makes memories aside.


What about the times that lead to uncontrolable laughter or uncontrolable crying. Isn't this what we were created to experience.


Remember the times when all you could do was wrap your arms around and just hold them. Remember the times when you fell asleep talking to each other at night. Remember crying when you had to say goodbye, and remember the joy when you said hello again. Remember the moments that make a life, and continue to build on them.


Don't forget to smile, don't forget to laugh, don't forget to cry, and don't forget to live.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

New York

Oh my gosh!! I am so excited for my mom's art show on March 7, 2009. I love her artwork and love the fact that she likes to ask my opinions on what to paint and how it looks. I really do miss that a lot. I was also often one of her figures she would paint, and I really miss posing in fun poses and beautiful light.It will be so amazing and fun to experience the art life again. (It is always fun to talk metaphorically with a few sloshed people :) ) Not only that but the gallery takes us out for dinner after and the last restaurant had an amazing Indian cuisine. I wonder what it will be this year. My parents are also looking in to seeing a Broadway show! New York is just the best! I have been there about 9 times and love it! It is such a different place, where life is always fast pace and never sleeps. Can you tell I am excited??
Tuesday, November 11, 2008

My Dear Friend

My Dear Friend,


Thank you. I love you. I don't think I could imagine what it would have been like without a friend and companion such as you. We were together for almost 15 years. Your love and loyalty was unmatched.


I remember the first time we brought you home with us. You were so excited and everyone wanted a chance to be with you. I remember taking you on walks with me and thinking how fun it was to have dog. I also remember the times that I would cry and you would come to see what was wrong. You were so gentle and full of love.


I will miss you my friend. Till we meet again.
Sunday, October 19, 2008

It is done

Coming home from Georgia was really hard for me. I held in all that I felt so that all would know that I am happy. Not that I don't love it here in Salt Lake with my husband and life, but all the memories, feelings, and voices fill me when I walk into the home that I have known for ten years. The familiar front steps that I have climbed so many times before are found easily under my feet. I spent many days standing on those steps talking and watching my family around me. Now I climb them after such a long time away and enter a home full of love. Time has passed so quickly and slipped away from me, and I wonder sometimes if I made the most of it. There were days that I would sit on my parents' bed soaking in everything around me because I knew it would end. Oh how the moments when I was able to hold close those that I love so much are cherished. Only for a moment though and then I must return. My mind and heart know how much I miss the smells, laughter, music, voices, and just the time that filled my life when I was younger. Sometimes I wonder why things change, why when things are so happy do they move forward and change. How sweet are the moments I have to grasp what was once reality.As my mother learned from her mother, the archer wishes his arrow to travel as far, as straight, and as true from his bow as he can make it. As the archer, so did my parents wish the same for me. It is up to me now to fulfill what lies ahead as a strong and independent daughter. The arrow sometimes dreams of being carefully tucked away on the archers back staying close to what is familiar, but oh, what beauties he is missing.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Bachelors

It came so fast, yet not quick enough. All my work, hard or not, has led me to this point, and now I am getting ready for the finish. I remember sitting down in my first class at a University and feeling how different it was from high school. Kids around me sat in pajamas and some in nice clothes. I was just there, pencil in hand, backpack at feet, and staring toward the front of the classroom at the teachers. They milled around the piano and the computer talking and occasionally glancing up at the class through there round glasses. Now, I have been to a dozen of the same kind of classrooms and some different. Some classes were even so different that they were able to bring that frantic feeling to my heart and occasionally make me cry. I remember one class that while in the middle of it I dreaded it. Running down the street past the stadium, up the hill followed by a large staircase, I made my way to a small building. Clambering inside, I quickly take a drink, and then I run up the last staircase to the upper floor. In one of the rooms, we sat around a long rectangulare table. I sat with my back to the wall and facing towards the windows. I had all my books for the class stacked in a semi-neat pile with my notebook and pen ready. In he walked, short, skinny, mangy looking hair, and large glasses. His voice entertained as he told stories of the past history of the country. All was good at the moment, but I was unaware of the great fun I would be having in his office one on one talking about my essay. We were not given our essays back till we met with him. Well, I felt pretty good about what I had written, I mean it was to the point and it took me a long time to write. I plopped down in a seat outside his office waiting for him to finish with the student before me. Soon after, she came out, smiling, bobbing curly blond hair and bright blue eyes. This couldn't be too bad I thought, so I stepped into his office. There he sat at his desk in his grey pants, blue untucked button-up, crazy hair, and wide rimmed glasses. He told me to take a seat and so I did and waited while he dug through the essays looking for mine. It took a little while, but he found it, pulled up a chair, and spun around to look at me. "This isn't brilliant you know." His words that followed drifted over me as I thought about my hard work and effort put into the paper. What did he mean, I was always told by all my teachers through school that my writing was really wonderful. That is what I remembered from that meeting. After that I climbed into my dad's car for the ride home and cried. My dad comforted me and told me that he would help me revise it and turn it in again. We worked on it, and let me just say, I have not met a better writer than my own father. He thinks through everything logically and then is able to place his thoughts on paper in such an eloquent way. I was ready again to meet with this odd teacher. He placed the essay near my hands and said that it was an improvement but it just wasn't great. I ended up getting a B on it. After a long semester I finally finished the class with a B and washed my hands of the experience. The essay meetings (I had two essays to be graded that semester) were the worst experience I have had. I only bring it up now to others when I want tell stories of bad teachers, bad classes, and overall bad experiences. I mean, I wonderful experiences as well. I was able to teach young musicians how to play their instruments. I got an A in my second semester English class. I have finished. My hard work has paid off.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008