Yes, I’m Collecting Scraps

 

The cover of the scrapbook. Poet, Bastille

Scrapbooking is not something new or something unheard of, but it is something that I think is underappreciated. It gives validation to my belief that there is meaning behind everything! That every candy wrapper can have sentimental value and every picture has a story that deserves to be written next to it. As you may have noticed, I like recording things and having written reminders of my thoughts and feelings (more on this topic in my upcoming posts – see Posting Schedule), and therefore my having started another scrapbook is not exactly surprising. I’m still going to tell you all about it though.

1. At work the other day I needed a nametag for an event, and someone showed me how to use the label maker. Yes, they have a label maker. Yes, they are the coolest people ever. I printed my name inside a candy wrapper frame a couple of times, and one of them is now on the back of my scrapbook. I’m not even going to try to cover up the fact that the label maker totally made my day and that maybe the single best thing in my room right now is my sticker label.

2. I stayed over at a friend’s house in a another city, and we bought frozen yogurt (because, um, what I do with my friends is eat frozen yogurt… I promise we do do other things too. Like laugh at “do do”). I saved the stamp card I got and made sure not to lose it, and it’s now in my scrapbook.

3. Every now and then, late in the evening, when I’m in a certain mood, I let myself float through YouTube for longer than recommended by, well, anyone. On one such night I lost myself in a flurry of commencement speeches, and I landed on one given by John Green. It is by far the best speech I have ever heard. I transcribed large sections of it, and it is now written in my scrapbook.

Part I

Part II

Part III

These three examples demonstrate what my scrapbook means to me. The things in there might not be the most beautiful or the most impressive, but to me they mean something. Every time I see my name on the back of it I will remember my (slightly) out of proportion excitement, and how sweet everyone at work was that day. Every time I see the frozen yogurt card I’ll remember hanging out with my friend and her boyfriend in a park playing Heads Up in the dark. Every time I read the highlights of the speech I will remember to let myself be inspired (though I have something against that word) and remember all of the people I have read it aloud to.

And of course, let us not forget, that my scrapbook is also full of collages and song quotes. Because, well… it’s me. Way back when, during what feels like forever ago, I wrote a whole post* about how I want to fall in love and it all had to do with listening to Ed Sheeran’s love songs. Without further ado, the love page of my scrapbook:

Thinking Out Loud + Afire Love

*clears throat* Okay, back to business. I’m simply writing this to encourage you to maybe give scrapbooking a try and to share with you what I have been busy doing lately. Mission accomplished, right? Okay, fine, I’ll answer that myself: right!

 

Yours truly,

And babbling because that’s the mood I’m in right now,

Ella

 

Song Quote:

Where you invest your love, you invest your life. –Awake My Soul, Mumford & Sons

P.s. Tweet me with your examples of #RainbowArea!

*The post is called When You Wake Me Up

 

I didn’t even realize this is my 50th post! That’s insane! Please leave me a comment with the words (fifty, fiftieth, five, zero) or the number 50 in it. Let’s see what you can come up with :) get creative!

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Competition Announcement – CLOSED

I was walking home and I saw this wall with graffiti all over it, and I suddenly thought, “Isn’t graffiti beautiful?”

Bear with me here.

A wall of graffiti is not the work of one person; it is the collective effort of a bunch of creative and unlawful artists. Sometimes they paint over another’s creation, but usually they simply continue it, improve it, or paint something else in response to it. That’s when it becomes beautiful: when it is a thoughtful conversation taking place without words ever being exchanged.

Now, the 2,000 followers milestone kind of passed by without me really noticing, as a result of this being a super intense test season (twelve down, three to go). So, I propose we celebrate the 2,500 mark instead. That gives us time to come up something good. Notice my use of ‘we’. It’s because this is what I’m thinking:

Why don’t you write about it instead of me? Or even not necessarily about it, but about something else that has been on your mind and you would like to share with what the rest of this lovely community? It can be anything you’d like!!! You can write about your own health struggles and triumphs, about your families and loved ones, share a funny anecdote, or absolutely anything you’d like. You could even send in pictures of your artwork if you’d like, or a photo montage, or… well, have I made it clear enough that it can be anything you’d like? Let your imagination take over. For 1,000, I put a spotlight on the words you leave for me in the comments section. Now, I’m putting a spotlight on the message/s you want others to hear.

Seeing as I can’t give you an accurate deadline, because I don’t know when I will reach 2,500 followers, how about we just agree that you’ll send in your final pieces by Monday, July 14th, in four weeks? That way I can have time to read through everything and pick my favorite one. Oh, have I made that clear enough? This is a competition. Because that just makes it more fun. There will be one featured piece on the day I reach 2,500 followers, here on this site. But, if I get a lot of really amazing entries, there may or may not be a new page going up around the same time with a bunch more. You didn’t hear it from me, though.

 

Terms for entering this amazingly awesome competition:

1. You must be a follower of Sick and Sick of It

2. You must be human and alive (because otherwise it would just be creepy)

3. You must be a follower of my twitter account (the link will be on the right side of your screen if you scroll down far enough)

 

How to enter:

Simply write something (/draw/create/fill-in-the-blank), and send it to sickandsickofit@gmx.com with the subject: 2,500 entry, and then your name  (example: 2,500 entry, Ella Doe). I will reply to your email to confirm that I have received it. Take note, if I don’t respond within a week it probably means it wasn’t received! Shoot me another email to check, because it might have gotten lost or sent to spam by accident. If you are the chosen one (like I wouldn’t put a Harry Potter reference in here), I will send you an additional email closer to the time to let you know that your piece will be going up. You can include an “about the author” box if you’re so inclined, and include links to your various online endeavors.

 

How to help make this awesome-er:

1. Put a lot of thought into what you send me. My words have reached so many people in over 120 countries around the world, and it’s simply insane to try to wrap my mind around that. If your piece wins, your message will reach them too.

2. Tweet the image below along with a link to this page (#2500), post it on Facebook or mention it on your blog (because the more the merrier! And it’s in your best interest to tell everyone you know about this, friend or foe, because they will fall uncontrollably in love with this site (or not) and subscribe (or not), and that brings us closer to 2,500(or not)). Also, it’s twenty-five-hundred, not two-thousand-five-hundred. Because that’s how my brain works.

3. I cannot stress this enough: please get the word out there!

4. Send in your piece as soon as you have it ready (I have an urge to say “the early bird gets the worm” right now).

 

So maybe 2,500 isn’t a wall of graffiti. Maybe it’s better.

 

For the record, this sweet dog is saying “2,500. It’s awesome. Woof. I like it. You’ll like it too. Woof.”

 

Always yours truly,

Ella

 

Song Quote:

It’s a mess, It’s a start, It’s a … work of art. -Take Back The City, Snow Patrol

This competition is now closed! If you’re still interested in sending me something you’ve created, feel free to do so but you won’t win this competition. 

 

#2500 !!!!!!!

Shining, Elegant, Weightless White

In an uninspired moment, I tried to think of something to write. My brain seemed to be tired of words. I’m scared fibro is taking over. I wrote this:

Like a thin sheet of aluminum foil,

Wrapped tightly around my forehead.

It’s thin,

But heavy, heavy, heavy.

Pain has turned it into a dark, somber, rusted gray.

 

I imagine white acrylic paint and a paintbrush.

I painstakingly paint every millimeter,

Over and over,

Until the layers are threefold thick.

It’s a shining, elegant, weightless white. 

 

I wave my magic wand,

Wingardium Leviosa,

And it floats before me,

As I observe it in all its glory.

 

When time comes to me,

I open up a stark white pouch,

Place the luminous pain within,

Open up my drawer,

Slide the pouch inside,

And bid it good bye.

 

Until I see you again.

Yours truly,

Ella

Song Quote:

Try and stay out of your head, I have seen you invent the damnedest things there. –Take a Bow, Greg Laswell

(My new ‘song of the week’ is waiting for you on the right side of your screen)

The Humorous Side

For quite a while now, I’ve been trying to find something humorous in every situation I’m in. It comes pretty naturally to me, in most situations at least. For example, I always laugh when doctors want to listen to me breathe, or feel my stomach. Something about those two requests that they utter makes me laugh, and I try to contain it, because it’s a little weird, but now I’m embracing it.

I’ve had an interesting couple of days. If you’ve read my previous post, you’ll know that last week was interesting too, and it seems to be becoming a theme. I’m embracing that too. Sort of.

I hate math. That said, I take it super seriously in school. My teacher has this schtick where he’s convinced that we won’t be able to finish all the material we need for the exam at the end of the year on time. Therefore, he wants us to come in on our day off school to study for four hours (that’s 240 minutes) in a row, so that we can be ready for the exam. Now obviously this is very complicated and upsetting for us because we have a day off for a reason and we don’t want to spend it doing math. We’ll get back to this later.

I was doing my homework the other day, and there was this question that I couldn’t get, so I went to my sister and asked for help (she’s studying computer engineering). She (and her friend, who happened to be there) figured it out, then taught me a certain technique we haven’t learnt yet, but that the question seemed to require. After that, I called my teacher and told him about it, but he was adamant that it could work the way he had taught us.

Okay.

In our next class, it turns out that every single student couldn’t answer that question, so he starts doing it on the board. Then he stops… falters…. “I’ll get back to you on that one.”

Okay.

In class today, he “got back to it”. He said that it’s a very complicated question, we don’t need to know how to answer it, and that it is really only meant to be done with a certain technique. The very specific technique that my sister taught me. I was right. Just saying. (Correction: my sister was right. Credit where it’s due).

Then, he led the conversation to his favorite topic (this is the aforementioned ‘later’)- when is the next time we’re going to come in for our dose of torture by complete boredom? I had said all I had to say on the matter, which is that I don’t think we need these extra lessons and I don’t like them, but I’m keeping my schedule free so I can come whenever it works out for everyone to show up. Being completely sure that everyone knows where I stand, I just kept working on the question that was on the board and trying to tune everyone out. Like that ever works. Want a play by play of everything that was said? Okay.

Actually no, it would probably be very tedious to read. If I nickname my teacher Ree, I’ll just give you a general overview (and yes, I’ve now nicknamed the math teachers Ree and Ran):

-Ree told us that usually, in every school, in our entire country, in the entire world (his words), students have to come in over spring break to study math for the exams, but because we tend to travel he can’t rely on that, therefore we really need to figure out dates for when we can come in on our day off. He wants at least twice a month.

-Ree thinks we’re being childish, and need to “show some maturity” and figure it out already. By next lesson he wants a sheet with all of the dates.

-Ree: “You’re going to have to pass up on social events and family gatherings. This is important, guys. Again, show some maturity. Next time your parents offer to take you travelling somewhere in the world, you’re just going to say no because this is important.”

-Ree is fed up with us. He declares that if we can’t tell him right away that we’re willing to give up our lives for math (he’s so dramatic), he can no longer teach us. He can’t work this way. He’s going to go to the principal, and the other math teacher Ran, because it just won’t work this way.

I don’t have much to add; this sums itself up. Now comes the part where I tie in what I talked about in my opening paragraph. Humor: there is a humorous side of this. I am sure of it. I’ll let you know if I find it.

No, I’m kidding. I found it humorous while it was happening. How can you not when a grown man is being so overly dramatic about something you know is dumb? My friend mentioned later that she volunteers on her day off, and I agree with what she said: points in heaven are way more important than points on a math test. At least us students have our priorities straight.

After Ree made it very clear to us that we are the ones that have to come up with a solution, I started trying to say this and a few others chimed in: okay, we will, now can you please teach us some math? Now remember I had solved the question while everyone was arguing, so when Ree turned to the board and said “somebody do these calculations”, I said “It comes out to two and a half.” Ree snaps around, looks at me, I try not to laugh, and repeat, “the calculations. The answer is  two and a half”. Ree just kind of nods, writes it down, and I can’t even remember what happened later.

I have one thing to say to you Ree: get over yourself.

Wow, that felt good.

I have more to tell you all. I went to acupuncture for the first time yesterday, and I had an amazing experience while there. I think I’ll write about it separately though. Be sure to check back for it soon, it will be called “The First Time”*.

For now, I just have another few things to tell you. The first one is, I finished my drawing! We framed it, I took a picture of it, and it’s down below, after the song quote (as usual). Second, I have now officially been on a yeast free diet for 22.3 hours. Yeah. Third, test season is starting soon, so my plan is to write a bunch of pieces and store them for when I’m super stressed and don’t have time to think whimsically. I’m letting you know because… well, I actually don’t have a reason. Just so you know, I guess.

Be humorous!!!

Love,

Ella

Song Quote:

Someday we’ll laugh about it. –All About You, Birdy

All done!!! The angle here is really random, but it’s the only way I could manage to show the whole drawing without showing my reflection…

This picture was taken before I put the finishing touches on, but it shows the whole drawing much better than the picture I tried to take after it was framed… (I showed this picture in my previous post)

This drawing goes incredibly well with the theme of this post… I’m impressed with myself for not having planned it. The original photo was from: http://www.flickr.com/photos/artetetra/2401088691/in/set-72157600061371063

Pictures of earlier stages are shown in:

To Create, It’s Called Perseverance, Game

*EDIT: 10.23.13 – I never ended up writing “The First Time” (it’s not what you’re thinking, trust me), so I’m just going to kind of, maybe, sorta leave you all hanging… deepest apologies, everyone. I had another acupuncture session that unfortunately clouded over the glow of the first one, and since I just can’t seem to get back into that initial buoyancy. Again, apologies from me to you.

Game

Sometimes I feel like a bowling pin. Life is the big, scary, heavy bowling ball that comes hurling at me and knocks me down. Then something comes along and sets me upright again, and I just have to brave things out.

What a week I have had, let me tell you. In a nutshell, I had an awesome literature class, I had a pain attack in my elbow, my mom was in a car accident, I had a family adventure, I lost all hope I had of having a good year and I had the most awesome backgammon experience ever. I’m much too tired to tell you about everything, but I will write about some.

I was sitting in math class on Monday, and suddenly my elbow started to hurt. Damn Fibromyalgia. Very quickly I couldn’t move my arm at all, and I left the classroom to try and find ice somewhere. The teachers’ lounge didn’t have any, and I was in insane pain. A little while later my friend came over, and I guess my face was one of major suffering, because her facial expression changed immediately and she asked me what was wrong. It was her face that made me cry; until then I had been trying to be strong and keep it together, but when I saw her I just started sobbing. Then, amazingly, she reached into her bag, into her lunchbox, and pulled out an ice pack! I might have cried harder, but it was what saved me.

I was trying to walk to my next class (English), but when my English teacher saw me she quickly dropped her bag and put her hands on my shoulders to comfort me/ stop my shaking shoulders (sobs) that were worsening my pain. She brought me to the teachers’ lounge and made sure there was someone who could sit with me until I calmed down. So I ended up talking to a very sweet teacher who taught me two years ago, while putting the ice directly on my elbow and crying. I don’t think I stopped crying the entire 40 minutes we were there, but at least we had a nice conversation. I managed to make it to art that day, and just drew while an ice pack numbed my elbow (tied it with a bandana- nifty trick).

On Tuesday, I called my mom in the afternoon to ask her something, and knew instantly when I heard her that something was really wrong, even though she said she would be home in a few minutes. My first thought was that she had gotten really sick, that she had been in hospital all day and her cousin was driving her home. Next, I thought that she had a huge foam brace around her neck and was permanently disabled. Then I just imagined blood. She indeed made it home a few minutes later, she was on her own, and looked intact. The car didn’t though.

She had been stopped at a red light, when this car slammed into her from behind and her head flew forward. Do you know what happened next? She got out of the car, went to the man who had slammed into her, and shouted “Who do you think you are?!?! My kids need me!!!”  The man later told her his “foot slipped”. Thankfully, she’s absolutely fine, and the car is not important. The man filed his insurance report a little while after my mom, so we can get the car fixed and don’t have to worry about that. The main thing is: my mom is okay.

It was so scary. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. What’s next?

Backgammon. So one important thing for you to know is that the separation between teachers and students at my school is not very drastic (which is obvious if you actually follow my posts and read what I write)- they are our teachers, there’s that divide, but there’s mutual respect and we’re treated as almost equals. The teachers have the final say, but we actually have one.

Basically, the game was between this kid named Benson (fake names) who was playing against my friend, Maya (we keep a backgammon set in our school lobby. There used to be a Ping-Pong table, but it broke. We replaced it with backgammon.) I was helping my friend, and so was my former math teacher (not my current one), who we’ll call… Ran? If I’m to make an awkward abbreviation of his name. Ran and I were helping Maya, and the game was starting to get intense. For those of you who know the rules, every single situation that can arise in a game, did. Benson was winning, then Maya, then Benson…. Ran and I were moving Maya’s pieces when she took too long, Benson was getting vocal, and slowly a crowd started gathering. Seriously. We had an audience, watching this backgammon game. It was so awesome.

Anyway, the game got to the point where both Maya and Benson could start removing pieces from the board, and it’s all just up to luck, of who will get there first. Everyone in the audience was drumming their hands against anything available, chanting, and there was all this adrenaline in the air. Beson had five pieces in, Maya had four. Maya rolled the dice, removed two pieces. Benson rolled doubles, removed four. The crowd was going wild. Ran and I were giving each other these looks, Maya and Benson were having some weird staring contest, emotions were running high. Maya rolled, the right numbers showed up, her two pieces were out and we won!!!! Benson (jokingly) dramatically slammed his hand against the table and stalked off, while Ran and I clapped madly, the audience started to scatter and chatter excitedly, and I raised Maya’s hand in victory! Everyone was shouting, it was crazy.

I love that my school can get so into things, and we just had such a great time. Remind me some time to tell you how my friend and I caught a robber, and the entire school watched the police show up from the lobby’s window. T’was eventful. People are still talking about it. Not really, but it was cool.

Wow, I have written way too much. That’s okay though. There’s been a lot going on. So as you can see, it’s been a long and interesting week. Now, I really have to go do my insane amounts of homework. But do you see what I mean, about the bowling pin? I didn’t go into everything here, but I’m just being knocked around all the time, while still trying to have a good time in life. I really just need to sigh right now, so I will. At least I have a fun soundtrack to my life. Every now and then I put together a playlist and it ends up defining the different eras in my life. The current one is called, “I’m going, I’m going.” I love it! Birdy’s new album, Fire Within, came out this week and it is amazing, so I’m also enjoying that, especially No Angel, All About You, Light Me Up and Maybe. In case it interests you :) Maybe is on the right, if you’d like to hear it.

Love,

Ella

P.s. I know my posts lately have been kind of random and I ramble a lot. This is my official apology. I’ve had so much going on, I just don’t have time to come up with some really original, inspiring material. Honestly, when I sit down to write I just need to get all of this stuff out. The first draft of this was actually 1700 words, and I cut a bunch out. It’s probably boring for anyone who isn’t me. But, my point is, I’ll still keep working, and hopefully my stuff be back up to par soon.

Song Quote:

People like us we’ve got to stick together, keep your head up, nothing lasts forever, here’s to the damned, to the last and forgotten. It’s hard to get high when you’re living on the bottom. -People Like Us, Kelly Clarkson

Almost done!!!
Previous photos of the picture’s progress are shown in:
To Create and It’s Called Perseverance

To Create

Last night I went to art class, which may just be my favorite place in the world. Well, after ice cream parlors. But I really love art class! We’re a group of eight girls or so, and every Monday night we come to class with our lovely teacher, Judith.

This group has become like a family, and I mean this in the completely cliché way. We each work on our own independent projects (with Judith helping each of us with what we need), but we talk to each other while working. Sometimes we give each other constructive criticism (“I think you should add more color”, “your piece looks sloppy- was that what you were going for?”), but it comes from a good place of wanting to help each other and we always listen to what everyone else has to say. When we think we’re done, or we’re not sure what to do next, we pick up our piece and show it to everyone, and get feedback.

Art is just a really good place to be. Everyone there is calm, down to earth, artistic and kind. We trust each other’s advice, we share funny things that happen to us, we make fun of each other good naturedly and we love it when something comes out beautiful.

Yesterday’s class felt special. I’m working on a piece that I really love (there are pictures at the bottom of the post), and I’d been looking forward to working on it all week (we store our pieces there, because they’re big). As usual, first thing in you have to give everyone a hug. I did my rounds, and then set up my station. Throughout the whole hour and a half of class, I don’t think I ever stopped smiling.

Every few minutes someone would walk by and tell me how much they liked what I’m doing, and how beautiful it is. What I loved was not even the compliments (though those were nice), it was how genuinely complimentarily everyone was being: they weren’t just saying it. They could just as easily walked by without saying a word, or just stopped and looked as we sometimes do. They were letting me know they thought I was creating something beautiful.

At one point my teacher told me she hadn’t imagined my sketch would get to this level, and one of the people that’s in charge of the art classes came by (he comes by towards the end of class to see what we’re working on) and took a walk around the studio. He came to talk to Judith who was a few feet away from me and said something along the lines of “that portrait she’s working on…” then made the impressed face. Do you know what face I’m talking about it? The eyebrows go up a bit, the lips purse, the eyes widen and the head is moved slowly and dramatically up and down. I think that’s the face. Well, that the best description I can think of.

Anyway, it was just so much fun to be there, I absolutely love that place and those people. It’s what you’d call a “healthy environment”, and you guys know, I can use any “health” I can get.

Love,

Ella

P.s. In case you missed it, go back two posts and check out the picture I put on “Not This Way”. Read it, don’t read it, just make sure not to miss the genius that is the picture! I also added some new music loves to my list on “About”, if you’re interested.

Song Quote:

I wanna show you the thoughts I can’t put into words. -You’re Not Alone, Hudson Taylor

 

This is what I’m working on!!!
This is what it looked like when class ended yesterday, and I can’t wait until next week to keep going.

In the middle of class yesterday (after adding the white charcoal, without having used the synthetic black charcoal to work on his cap)

It might look simple, but it took the whole lesson last week to put this together….

It’s a Landmark

People everywhere celebrate landmarks in life. Birthdays, anniversaries, new beginnings and so on and so forth.

This week, I’m celebrating the end of the school year. Every student out there will tell you how and why they celebrate finishing the year, and almost all of the reasons will be along the lines of “I worked really hard this year, and I’m happy to get a break”. That’s true for me too, don’t get me wrong. But it’s also something more.

June 20^th marked the end of my first school year with Fibromyalgia. It means I survived a whole year of school, whilst suffering from the head aches, the fatigue, the joint pains, and that now it’s over. Everyone is asking me how it feels, do I feel so great that I succeeded, am I overjoyed that the school year is over. To be perfectly honest though, it just kind of feels… blah? Not blah, just that it doesn’t feel like that huge of a deal.

I’m not explaining myself right. I feel happy, and satisfied, and proud (I have the highest GPA of my grade!!!). It’s not that I’m thinking the year wasn’t that bad and therefore it’s no big deal to finish it. It’s not that. I actually had a really, really hard year. I’m elated that despite all of my hardships, I managed to achieve what I set my mind to, which was to not let Fibromyalgia affect my grades.

I think it just hasn’t fully set in yet, that I’ve finished. This is only really my 3^rd day of vacation, because of the weekend, which I always have off. Maybe by next week I’ll be feeling it for real.

For now, I’ve been trying to get the most out of days without school. I have reorganized and labeled our spice drawer, I have buffed up my iTunes library, I have read, I have watched TV, I have gone to get frozen yogurt, I have painted, I have sketched, I have gone to art class, I have shopped (online), I have exercised, I have gone to the beach, I have… Have I mentioned I’ve only been on vacation since Thursday?

Keeping busy, I know how to do that.

I really want to make the best of this summer. I have so little free time during the year, now is when I get to engage in all the projects I don’t usually have time for.

I’m going to tell you a story now.

It is custom, where I live, to go to the beach on the last day of school. So, the entire middle and high school population of the extended area flock to the beach, to “celebrate”. Ultimately, each person gets an inch by inch square of sand, and an ankle in the water. T’is enjoyable. My friends discovered that a certain area of a certain beach, that is farther away, is less crowded, and you can rent chairs to sit on (though because my friends are the way they are, they usually put their bags on them and lay on the floor to tan. I really don’t get it). It means we needed to take two busses and a cab to get there.

We went to the same place last year, and it was no fun. This year, because these girls have the gift of people-speaking, we agreed to go to the same place. This time, though, something nice happened. We arrived in two groups, and the other group had arrived before mine. When we walked to “our spot”, one of the girls looked up and said, “Ella, I got you a chair, I thought it might be easier for you to sit that way”. I swear I almost burst out crying. It only just took a year for this girl to acknowledge that I have a physical disability, and that she should be nice about it. Most of me was just really happy that she was nice, but a part of me was upset that it took her this long. Of course, there was a rotation of who was sitting on the chair, because I wanted to be in the water (not lying on the sand tanning). But I think that’s what made my afternoon, that the girl who laughed when I told her about my condition was finally finding kindness, deep, deep down inside her. I feel like it’s a personal accomplishment.

FIN.

Incredible story, right? I know.

I smell summer in the air. I like summer fashion, summer hair dos, summer time tables, summer freedom. Waking up to a blue sky is uplifting, and I’m feeling like I can accomplish things. I don’t know what exactly, but what’s important is that I feel like I can.

Wishing you all a beautiful, happy, accomplishment-full summer,

Ella

Song Quote:

Where does the time all go forever? It hides in your eyes, in a picture, in another place’s sky. -More Than Letters, Benjamin Francis Leftwich

Pinning Down Magic

Like I said… Magic

Magic is everywhere, but like the moon, you can’t pin it down. We’re all exposed to the Magic, but we take it in differently. For me, Magic is watching dancers on stage, moving in time with the music and each other. Magic is watching two people who are in love.

Magic is writing down how I feel. I like capturing moments and feeling, and it’s something I’ve always done. When I danced, I would choreograph a routine that portrayed how I felt right then. Anytime I danced that routine, I went back to that feeling and experienced it all over again. In art, I capture a moment, by the facial expressions, the placement, the color choice.

But when I write, it’s something different. Sure, in dance, if I made a move timid instead of strong, it changed the feeling. And if I made the background gray instead of white in a sketch, it changes the feeling. But those are nothing compared to writing. I can play with words, expressions, emotions, tensions, humor, kindness, nuances, intonation, language… I can create something I’m feeling, or something I want to feel, or a feeling I miss. That is my Magic, putting everything down in words.

Like I told my cousin this past weekend, I share my feelings a lot. With people, of course. But also with other things. I think the example I gave her was TV: if someone is crying in the movie, I’m crying too; if someone is smiling, so am I. That’s just how it goes. I express emotions through everything I do, all day long.

So I suppose, instead of my Magic being writing, my Magic should really be feelings. I do them really well. I’m like a sorceress, a magician, a wizard, a witch. My Magic is my own. There is no limit to the Magic I can have. My Magic is love, dance, art, writing, expressing, feeling… really, everything is Magic.

Lumos,

Ella

Song Quote:

Now you’ll live through the ages, I can  feel your pulse in the pages, I have written you down, Now you will live forever. -Poet, Bastille