Cover One Eye and REACH

Today was an exceptionally busy, and record-breakingly WARM day. I spent the morning with my grandparents chatting, looking at my Grandpa’s HO scale model trains and talking about weddings. My grandmother has both her and my great aunt Ammie’s wedding dresses hanging in her closet. We pulled them out and they are exquisite. Almost breathtakingly lovely. She offered either of them to me when I get married (as well as the dress that my aunt and mother both wore).

What I would really like to do, though, is shorten my Grandma’s and wear it as my going-away dress. HER mother made it and it is cream and gold brocade. Beautiful. I wonder if she’d let me do that… My aunt Ammie’s was also beautiful but is a dark dusky rose color and FAR too short for me, I’m sure. It was cocktail length on her and I’ve got her beat by more than a few inches.

After that really pleasant visit I nannyed and took a trip to the Bellevue Regional Library. Either the weather has everyone cranky, the sun was blinding them or there was some kind of regional let’s-nearly-kill-Meghan-with-our-overpriced-vehicles-just-to-freak-her-out day. I got home with my vehicle, my sanity and my Pad Thai intact, though it was almost 7pm.

Far too late for dinner, btw.

(Oh and did I mention the 11 books I checked out for our beach trip…?)

At one point tonight I was sitting on our back porch just kind of staring out into space. My mom puts a bunch of potted plant arrangement on our back porch every summer, and this year she has a really cool one. For some reason I reached up and one of my eyes got covered for like a split second. I happened to be staring at the really amazing plant arrangments and the sudden loss of depth perception made the colors and composition POP. I put my hand back up and purposelly covered my eye for several long moments. I even tried to reach out and “grab” the plants.

I would love to make something really epic and deep out of the experience- to be honest if I could think of something deep I WOULD do just that. But really it was just a happy moment. In addition, it made me appreciate Dale Chihuly  just a little bit more. What a wonderful world he must live in- to create art without the usual limitations or benefits of depth perception. 

It made me want to paint. Which I did. At ten pm. While listening to really loud music. 

I also talked to my sister, texted with MCarr (which is how I picture his name in my mind), read my book, enjoyed the fact that the cleaners CLEANED MY ROOM AND MADE MY BED, and drank some fancy Italian lemon drink stuff. 

Now I’ve got the AC cranked up (down?) to 69 degrees in preparation for trying to sleep. Goodnight all. Much loves.

Non-Informative Update

I got some helpful input tonight from St Francis. We talked about living whole-heartedly wherever you are, and it helped me get in a better head space about the next two months. Also, Eric Westad prayed for me tonight and it felt like a benediction from the Pope. Ha ha. 

In a few days I’ll be done with my commissioned paintings and off to the beach for vacation. 

Vacation.

Bliss.

So there you go. I’m busy but glad to be moving forward.

It’s A Festivus Miracle!

But really, in all seriousness….
I just woke up from sleeping for 11 hours (I NEVER sleep this late or THAT long) and I actually feel like a person again.
I’m not saying the world is suddenly perfect and all my emotions have been neatly resolved. I AM saying that I can finally make progress toward the above because only a person can resolve emotions and this past week I have been something lower than a vertebrae mammal.
Praise the Lamb I’m human again!

Life Between Gears

The main reason I started this blog was that I wanted to communicate my life to my family while I was in New Zealand. It’s far more quick and easy to dissemble information over the internet than it is to call everyone and tell them everything individually. Since I started walkingintherain two years ago, it has turned into something more like a processing plant. I chuck things out and see how they are recieved, whether deep or shallow, and move from there. I’ve talked about life, I’ve written stories, I’ve tried to share a bit of who I am, and I’ve written entire posts about goats. You have all born with me beautifully and I thank you.

These days I am often too tired to write anything. Work, commissioned paintings, emotional apathy and busyness have kept me from posting anything other than the littlest posts. I’m staring down the face of a massive change in my life- uncomfortable with the idea of living someplace other than “home” and unsure of what my place is in NC. I’ve always known my place, you know? I’ve always known, if not what any particular day would look like, at least what the overarching theme of existence was. That’s changing in September and instead of being scary it feels a little lonely. Me without my structure. The good news is that I trust the Lord 100% and there is always Glory Carr to fall over on when I’m feeling far-from-home-ish.

Erin’s Wedding

Well kids, I’m off. The last of my dear friends is getting married on Saturday and I’m heading to beautiful Spokane to be the greatest maid-of-honor-in-all-but-name that ever graced this planet.

Imagine it as the emotional equivalent of the polar bear club for the single twenty-something woman. You know it’ll be invigorating and worth the jump but DANG that water is icy cold.

I love my friend (and her soon-to-be hubby).
I love weddings.
Jesus LOVES weddings.
It’s going to be awesome.
(But DANG that water is cold!)

Pray for me as I pray for myself. Then pray triple portion blessings over Erin and Shae.

P.S. I’ve been in a wedding every year for four years. Now I’m out of close friends. What WILL I do with myself next year…?

Definitions

You can’t define me
         Make a list of words
  Words like, “girl”, “painter”, “difficult”, “cold”, “funny”
    I could do the same for you
  But I won’t

The words are tiny fetters
    Miniscule chains for an immeasurable soul
Little boxes to pack away a personality
  And I won’t pack you away
Don’t you try to put me in a box, any box.

Or do.
    Do try.
You won’t succeed. You can’t win against my secret… 

I know something that you don’t,
   And it protects me
from all your coffin-shaped boxes.

 

 I fly.
There are no chains here.
No boxes.
So come on!
Come be with me in the sky- be free!
I’m inviting you out of your definitions
away from your comfortable confinement
Risk.
Adventure.
YOU.

It’s all up here.

come on 

Goldfinger

I’ve discovered something since Thursday- my happy place is when I am painting. 

And no, I’m not a total idiot for not figuring that out sooner. I’ve always enjoyed my art but I’ve only now reached the skill level to be able to rise above the ever-present frustration. Imagine how much of a release art is for even the beginner- now take away most of the fumbling and almost all of the frustration… that’s what it’s been like lately. 

The past couple days have been a combination of really difficult and really lovely. As always in my life, God drops little Moments into my lap to remind me that I’m loved, yet it has still been taxing. The weather was gray, my life is in transition, relationships are a strange balancing act and I’ve been mostly alone. 

Anyway, whenever things get really emotionally strange I either pray or paint. The two things are becoming more and more similar as the days pass. I can’t always get the words that would fit my prayer, but I can always get a picture that expresses what is going on. 

Since Thursday I have begun four paintings and finished four paintings. (One project from the past three weeks is finally done. Four new paintings were started and three of those are done.) I have quite a queue of work lined up and today found me painting on three separate occasions. On Thursday I discovered Jazz and so have had new music to help inspire the work. (We can credit the presets on my dad’s car for my discovery of Jazz…)

The last painting of today (yesterday?) was begun at 11:15 and finished just after midnight.  Both of my hands are covered in gold paint. Its created a really great pattern on a couple of my fingernails….

Point being, of the seven commissioned pieces I’m working on right now, four of them are done, the fifth is planned out, the sixth is a prophetic portrait and the seventh will tax all my abilities. 

God takes such good care of me! And I get to have fun through even the toughest days.

Of Dentists and Days

Most of you know that I had two dentist appointments this week to get cavities filled and sealants replaced. Now, I have to tell you that these appointments inspired mostly shame. Why shame? Abject fear, I understand, is the usual reaction to dentistry. However, I LIKE dentists. I was ashamed because I obviously did something terrible or neglected my teeth in some hideous way. I brush my teeth three times a day, I floss, I stopped eating lemons. Why, God? WHY?

Dentistry is expensive and I am costing people money.

Anyway, my first appointment was Monday. Cue six (or was it eight?) shots of Novocain, two metal clamps shoved UNDER my gum line, drilling, filing and polishing. All while holding my mouth open for 1.5 hours. I really like dentists, especially mine, but it was actually faintly traumatizing. 

So I went back today, still swollen and raw-feeling. The state of my clamp-abused gums actually made both the dental hygenist and my dentist make faces and say “ow… that’s raw looking”. (Uh yes!) Luckily it made them re-think the rubber-dam-clamps of DEATH. Today’s appointment only lasted 45 minutes and they gave me a few ideas to promote healing of the sore tissue.

All this to say what? I would STILL rather go to the dentist than the doctor. Dentists kindly numb you before doing terrible things and they stay in one general area.

Also, I learned today that my cavities were not my fault. Really! Most people have cavities in their adult teeth from the time those teeth come in. Any number of things affect how long it will take for those cavities to break through and most folks get them fixed in adolescence.  My good dental habits actually prevented them from manifesting any sooner! Anyway, that helped with the shame aspect. 

Other than that its been a quiet day. Aren’t you glad I shared all this information  with you?

The Reckoning

Ok…time for more short fiction. This one is inspired by two writing prompts 1)”write a story about an empty glass” 2) “begin your story with ‘The noise escalated behind her’”. It is also inspired by a nightmare I had last night and my secret love of socio-political sci fi movies. 

 

The noise escalated behind her. Bellatrix stood alone in the center of the bridge, concrete pressing upward on the soles of her shoes, while the sounds of the mob swelled up to crash down over her again and again. Her brunette hair had come out of its’ tie, her brown eyes were rimmed in red and her eyebrows mashed together in a point over her broken nose. 

The Black Guard faced her, their faces hidden under polished-metal masks. Under the roar of the mob she could discern the hissing of the Guard’s atmo-filters. They wore black cloaks made entirely of crow feathers- feathers that lay preternaturally still. 

The mob pressed forward. She could feel their heat pressing against her neck, back and legs. She threw out one hand, palm facing back toward them. The metal plate embedded in her hand flashed once. Twice. The mob whimpered and retreated. 

She knelt down, keeping both eyes firmly on the black robed men who faced her. Opening her other hand she set down her offering-an empty glass. A bit of blood dripped from her nose and she pulled her hand back to wipe it away. 

A small figure pushed through the black mob. With sickening speed it leapt from yards away to huddle over the glass. When Bellatrix moved to retreat the creature hissed, pushing air out of its’ atmo’s. It tilted its’ masked face upwards, locking metal eyes with her brown ones. Another hiss and the creature stood, clutching the glass in one hand and pushing it’s mask up with the other. The face underneath was not a new sight to Bellatrix, but the mob screamed with rage and fear. 

Her hands flew up to grip her head. She held the mob back with every shred of strength she had left. If she lost control now the Black Guard would massacre every living thing outside the shield.  The metal plate in her hand burned white-hot, hotter still as the unmasked figure drew close. 

This was one of the High Guard- a sort of commander- and a perfect example of their race. The Guard used to be human, or something close, but centuries of selective breeding combined with nuclear weapons testing had created something disturbingly other.  She held her breath and turned on her personal shield. It didn’t have much power left but she couldn’t risk the radioactive exposure. 

The creature’s twisted lips cracked open, splitting its’ face from ear hole to ear hole. “Why do you fight us, she?”

Bellatrix spat. 

“You did well to bring us what we wanted.” It’s eyes flickered to the mob, to her broken nose and back to the mob. “You do better to hold them back. My Guard wait for one. false. move.” 

She was running out of air and rapidly losing blood- her broken nose was not her only wound. “You will not find us so easy.” She inhaled carefully, tasting the air and wishing she hadn’t. 

“Good. Very good.” One flashing motion snapped the mask back into place- she wasn’t the only one having trouble breathing. The small figure disappeared behind the Guard. The giant bird-cloaked beings turned with military precision and flowed back across the bridge and through their continent-wide shield. 

Bellatrix turned, the concrete sucking at her shoes now where once it hard pressed against them. She allowed the mob their freedom and let them flow around her toward the shield. They could not penetrate it and would do no harm. Their rage was the only heat left in her world- her entire body felt like ice. She idly snapped her nose back into place, reminding herself to find the man who’d broken it as she made her way to the Guard only moments ago. Stupid humans. When would they learn that they would never win this war?

Life was hell outside the shield. Dealing with demons was the only way to keep the human remnant alive. Alive in hell. She spat again. Some deal.

The Last Few Weeks

Note: My apologies to Michael for not updating sooner. I believe Timothy once told me something about squeaky wheels getting whatever they want…

You know, I admire the people like Tracie Loux and my sister who can update every several days without fail. Sadly, my last couple of weeks have allowed for little other than work, sleep and laying around like a vegetable because I am too tired to do either. It’s taken me 48 hours of complete freedom and one hour long walk with Jesus but I’m back!

The nanny job has been an education, to put it mildly. Babysitting and nannying are two entirely different gigs and of the two, I much prefer nannying. Since the woman that I work for is home while I am there it is not a traditional nanny job. The kid’s mom comes up with schedules/ideas and I make it happen. Basically I chauffeur the kids around in their mother’s Acura MDX, make them healthy balanced lunches, tell them “no” a million times a day when they ask if they can have soda and/or candy and making sure we are ALL wearing lots of sunscreen. I’ve never been able to watch/participate in parenting like I have these last weeks and I am seriously taking notes. It’s a good paying job that allows me time to read, access to a private pool and an opportunity to learn. The Lord is very kind.

I sold a painting last week. One of the girls in the cast of Show Boat saw a drawing that she loved. She said “If you paint this I will buy it!” We talked about color but it was an informal conversation- no way of knowing if she really wanted the painting. I took a chance, painted it in about five days and delivered it to her. She doubled what I’d asked her to pay and requested two more. That brings me up to six commissioned pieces that I am working on now. The Favor of the Lord, seriously.  

The Move (yes it’s in all capitals) is much on my mind of late. Half of me wants to wait and see Chasing Nicolette on September 13th, the other half wants to just get on with it. It’s a big freaking leap into the unknown and let’s just have it over with!

I miss the Mansours. Not that I’ve had time even if they were in WA, but still…

This week I have no work but two appointments at the dentist. I take good care of my teeth but even my excellent habits could not hold off decay, or so it appears. Particularly when I have not visited a dentist for two years.  Monday and Wednesday will see me in the dentist chair. I don’t mind. Dentist are much less scary than doctors. 

I had a horrible nightmare last night- REALLY awful. However, I learned two things from it: 1) My worst nightmares are scary only because they are hopeless and 2) hopelessness is not a state I will ever experience in real life because I know Jesus. So a poor night’s sleep and a rather scarring dream were not without purpose. 

I will leave you with a quote from my Danny Kaye movie…

“Don’t speak of twigs when you look at an oak!”