One Final "Thank You" of 2016.

As I sit here on my bed surrounded by Christmas lights and listening to the Hairspray Live soundtrack (you should seriously go listen to it!), I felt the need to say one final thank you to you. 

It may be cheesy to say, your kind words and encouragement is a reason that I continue writing/drawing. The main reason I do it is because it serves as an emotional release. (And probably the fact that I have to constantly keep my hands busy doing something, I have a hard time keeping them still, haha!) But in all seriousness, I truly appreciate your compliments and encouragement. A simple, "I loved this!" or a like on my writings make my heart so happy. I can't tell you how crazy it is for me to be doing something and realize someone out there is reading it, or even just skimming it. I don't try to create things just to receive feedback, but the feedback you all have given me is incredibly appreciated. There are some days where I'll write something out of desperation/loneliness, and receiving something like "I understand what you're going through," is beautiful. It makes this little creative mind feel like she's doing what she's supposed to be doing, if that makes sense? 

I've said time and time again, especially recently- I've always loved making people happy/feel loved. I feel like the Lord put me on the Earth to do just that. I adore writing these blogs and creating art that may possibly touch people. It warms my heart and gives me motivation to push on. 

I feel like I'm babbling! I hate that, haha! But seriously, just know that even though I sometimes have a hard head and have a hard time receiving compliments, I truly do appreciate your kind words and love. I plan on improving my hardheadedness towards compliments this coming year. Instead of shrugging them off as "they're just being nice, they feel bad for me," I'm going to try and fully accept them and take them to heart. <3 Be patient with me. 

As much as I love pouring out my heart on here, in a way, I want to step back from it for a while. I still want to write about what's going on in my life and still want to be open about everything, but I also want to maybe keep some of my feelings to myself. I'm not keeping everything in, I know that isn't healthy. I'm not really sure how to adequately explain this. I'm hoping you understand what I'm getting at. I mentioned something similar to this back in October, I believe. In the new year, I want to stay off of social media more. I find that it often becomes detrimental to my mental health. (Not this blog or Facebook, per say. But I do need a break.) I feel like I say this a lot, and it probably sounds like I'm not keeping my word. But I tell you truthfully, I'm honestly trying my hardest. I have a shelf full of books I'd love to read and art I'd like to create rather than spending hours on here. I am okay, I feel like I have to say that for some reason. I am perfectly fine. I feel happy and hopeful for the new year. I am really hoping to connect with the world and my spiritual self rather than online. I really hope that makes sense. 

I guess that's what I mean when I say I want to step back. I feel like I need to take a breath. A long, drawn out breath. I will still write. I will still be on here. But if there are long periods where I seem MIA, I'm probably still taking that breath. Or eating a cheeseburger. 

So again, thank you for the love and continued support. I will still be writing and creating. (Actually, as I wrote this I just saw that Garrett Clayton liked my drawing of him. Happy New Years to me! And stuff like this makes me want to keep pushing. I want to create images of people for them to see, and hopefully see my adoration in them.) If I could get all of your addresses and send you each thank you cards I would. I'm terrible at expressing emotions in person, so that's why I rely heavily on this blog to express how I feel. Thank you so much. If you could see all the times I sit in my room feeling discouraged, then get a notification from one of you expressing kindness towards me, and it brightens my day. So thank you endlessly. Know I am here, like you all are there for me. And I hope you understand that I want to focus on myself in the new year, not in a selfish way, but in an accepting sort of way. I want to better myself, while still trying to be a light to others.

Be safe tonight if you're going out, and I hope you are hopeful for the year to come. 

Once again, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for making this girl feel like she is doing exactly what she was meant to be doing. 

:)

-Rachel xx

Home Alone 2 image found here 

Twenty Sixteen, you dog.

It's crazy to think that Christmas day has now come and gone. If you know me well, you know that I'm in a hardcore Christmas depression. As soon as I wake up Christmas morning I get a tinge of sadness because I know in a few hours that our Christmas morning will be over and we won't see it again until next year. I try to hold onto it as long as I can. I have to repeatedly tell myself that the Christmas season actually ends on January 6th, so I still have time to be jolly. I plan on bringing that jolliness into the new year and for the months to come until December 25th rolls around again. 

As much as I want to talk about Christmas, this isn't what this post is about. Well, it's partially about it. I wanted to do a "year in review" type deal. I think it's important to look back on your year and focus on the beautiful things that happened, but not be afraid to acknowledge the bad things and to grow from them. 

This has been a hard year for many people. I actually believed it was a hard year for everyone, but then I saw some talking about how this was the best year of their life. That's when I learned not to lump a whole year based on other's experiences. For me, this year was equally lovely and equally rough. 

January: The Month of Snow

My little heart was so happy to see this sight. If it was winter all year round, I'd be happy. I love the cold and the snow. I don't love the ice. But when my little eyes saw this in January, the kid in me did cartwheels. Most of my photos of January are the snow. You can see the pure childhood joy in my eyes in the pictures of me from this month. It was a new year, a new semester, and I was very hopeful for the upcoming year. My mom and I also saw Michelangelo's drawings at the Frist. Little did I know I'd be working there in just a few months!

February: The Month of My Birth

I turned 20. It seems weird still that my teenage years are over, but then again it feels like I've been in my twenties for a decade now. I've felt like a child at heart but sometimes felt like I was a bit of an old soul. Turning 20 solidified that old-soulness a bit, if that makes any sense. My parents decorated the house for me when I came home, complete with those foldable banners that say "Happy Birthday" and balloons and took me out to lunch. I felt very loved on my birthday and am thankful for that love I was shown. I also correctly guessed the score for the Super Bowl, only off by one point. How did I do this? I have no idea. I truly do not understand football or how the scoring goes. A birthday miracle, maybe! :p

March: The Month I Started Taking Care of Myself 
I really began paying attention to myself this month. I decided to try and cut out sugary drinks and do a little bit of yoga every day. I failed often, but promised not to be hard on myself. I attribute a lot of this to Kate Hudson's book Pretty Happy. I read it nearly every day and began taking note of what I ate and how I felt. I've never been a fan of recording what I eat, it's a good way to keep track, but I found it made me feel terrible if I ate something sugary that day. Instead, I focused on my mental health and listened to how my body was reacting to what I filled it with. I cut out sodas during the week and only drank water/healthy juices and tried to eat vegetables every day. I tried to cut out social media time. I saw improvement almost immediately in how I felt. I went from drinking two Pepsis a day and feeling sluggish once I went to bed, to drinking waters or cranberry juice and feeling more vivacious and at peace throughout the day. I listened to the signs my body was giving me and it's probably one of the best things I've learned to do all year. Also during this month, I met a fellow who made me feel beautiful without telling me I was beautiful. He was a great friend and even though we don't talk anymore, he was a beautiful light in my life that I was happy to share a couple months of conversation with. I doubt you'll read this, but you inspired me and made me laugh a lot during that short time and I'm thankful for that. You gave me some joy in a time I felt kind of alone, so I'm appreciative for that.

April: The Month I Found My New Obsession

I had been taking a photography class since January, but in April I truly fell in love with 35mm photography. I found a new way to express myself. I took pictures upon pictures and spent most of my spring afternoons in the darkroom processing all my images. One of them actually was accepted into APSU's Student Show, my second year of being in it! I was thrilled. The smell of Subway always brings me back to this time, because nearly everyday I was in the darkroom I'd come back to our apartment late and I wasn't able to get food with my roommate like usual. My intake of Subway sandwiches during that period probably wasn't healthy, but I created some work I truly loved out of that time period. I also spent a lot of time outside during April. I was looking through my photos during that month and more than half of them are taken outdoors. (And I must've been in a maxi-dress craze as well, most of the photos with me, I'm wearing one. Haha!)

May: The Month of Events on Events on Events

I finished my sophomore year and moved all my stuff out of my apartment myself. (I may've spent a good 5 minutes trying to unhook a TV cable.) The first week of summer break, my family broke out of our comfort zone and went downtown to see Keith Urban. He had a free concert outside the Bridgestone Arena to celebrate his new album, Ripcord. Keith is a national treasure to our family. My sister graduated college, I attended her roommate's graduation party, complete with karaoke renditions of Pillow Talk by Zayn. My sister and I played in a tennis tournament and thought we were going to die because it was so hot. 

June: The Month of Big Changes

This may've been the biggest turning point month of this year. I spent a good chunk of May looking for a job, and ended up receiving two in June. I volunteered at the Frist and became a sales associate at Cato. I actually should've named this, "The Month of Nerves." I worried enough this month to last my whole life. I worked a lot, a lot a lot. I went from never working to working almost every day. I know, that's what a job is, but with my nervous system, this was all new and it was freaking out. Working these two jobs really pushed me out of my comfort zone. I found it easier to talk to people because both jobs entailed me having to talk to people. I learned to deal with the public. I also attended CMA Fest for the first time, and got so nervous once I got there I accidentally ran in a fancy hotel just to find a bathroom. You know, just girly things. I ended up getting so hot during the Festival that I had to go sit underneath a sno-cone stand to cool down. I had a lot of fun but me and the heat are not friends. I also saw WEIRD AL FREAKING YANKOVIC for the third time. I won tickets on the radio and nearly screamed. I nervously told the radio man my full name when he asked for my name and said then proceeded "holy crap" on the radio and he laughed at me. He then asked for my zipcode, I told him the city I lived in instead. He then said, "your zipcode, babe" and I felt like such an idiot. But I got two free tickets out of the whole ordeal so I was stoked. I  may have cried. I also got pulled over for the first time this month because I had a headlight out. I didn't realize you were supposed to turn your caution lights on if you were trying to find a well-lit place to pull over, so they called backup on me. It was so much fun. When the officer came to my car, he asked how I was and I nervously, overly-cheerfully answered, "I'm good, how are you!?" in my sales associate voice. He let me off with a warning since it was my first time being pulled over. What a month!

July: The Month of Sunshine Galore

A big portion of my July was spent outside. From the beach, to painting a shed at my Grandma's house, to playing with sparklers outside, it was a month spent doing things outdoors with my family. I also was in my second month of working as a sales associate, finally getting used to it and not wanting to cry every time I went into work. (I'm very emotional, I realize this, haha!) I spent a lot of late nights writing and drawing this  month. 

August: The Month of Even More Changes

My last month of summer, one spent feeling like I was being screwed over by people I thought I could trust. I won't get into details on here, I'd be happy to tell you later on. But those issues have made me into the person I am today. I learned a lot during this  month. You can't trust every single person, and if something is wrong, tell someone about it. We celebrated my dad's birthday and my sister met Steve-O. She took my little drawing of him and had him sign it for me. It's proudly framed in my apartment right now. <3 I drew a lot of portraits. I was bright eyed and bushy tailed about the new year of school ahead of me. 

September: The Month of Painting and Family 

My painting class required us to be outside nearly every class period. We painted landscapes, still life, and even a protest. I learned so much about  painting and my love for it was rekindled. This was another month spent outside, since the weather wasn't quite cold yet. My parents came up to school for Family Day, even though it rained and most of it was spent inside. We had a family reunion and walked down into my great-grandfather's farm and talked about some old memories. We met a cashier at Target who made us laugh so much, every time we go back we look to see if he's working. It was a very joyful month. 

October: The Month of New Beginnings

October was a launching pad month for the end of the year, and I can see that full well now. I didn't mention it earlier, but once school started back, I was a little bummed out about some things that had happened to me personally. I let it bug me more than I should have. I let it affect my grades. I felt like I was losing control, and I told myself enough was enough. I began to buckle down and study. I did things to make me happy. I went and saw Frankie Ballard on campus, and have been in love with his raspy voice ever since. I also went with my childhood bestfriend, which made it even sweeter. I few more comfortable with my paintings. I wanted to do it all the time! I also got to show some of my work at a Soiree downtown Clarksville, the first time my work has been shown outside of campus. I was thrilled but super nervous. My professor was very helpful and I was encouraged by some of my peers in this new step. I spoke in front of a group of people and made them laugh. I look at pictures my mom took from that night (she is my paparazzi) and am still shocked it all happened. The most special moment is when a girl I had a class with nearly a year ago came up to me, grabbed my hands and told me how proud she was of me. She had driven me back to my dorm from the art building a year ago because it was late and she and my professor didn't want me walking back by myself. We didn't know each other then and was shocked someone would do that for me. I was overwhelmed by the love that was shown to me that night, and look back on it whenever I am feeling down. 

November: The Month of Love

I wrote about this particular day in this post, which you can read if you would like more detail. That day stands out the most to me because it was when I realized I really need to shed the belief that everyone hates me. I needed to accept that it was all a mind game I was torturing myself with. I learned this month that I was capable of being an artist and more people like you than you think they do. I learned to focus on that. I went to my Grandma's house for Thanksgiving, and it's one of my favorite Thanksgivings to date. I got to go shopping with my Grandma, and I wish I could do that every single day. My dad, sister, and I went to Wahlburgers to eat dinner. It was delicious. I felt so much love during each of these things. I think I was probably the happiest in this month than any month of the year. My heart was overflowing. 

December: The Month of Peace

December I tried focusing on my inner peace. I tried to cut out my social media time as much as I could. I tried focusing on more tangible things. Much of this was difficult, though. We got all our floors in the house redone and we weren't able to decorate for Christmas until after the 10th, when we usually do it as soon as December begins. Our furniture/etc was everywhere and it really messed with my psyche. Once everything was settled, I began to feel more stable. I was able to focus on Christmas. I began feeling lonely, but combated it with prayer and peaceful nights snuggled in bed with a cup of tea. I felt like the last month of my whirlwind year should be spent feeling thankful for all I had. I wanted my heart to be full of so much joy. Looking at it now, it truly was. I had my days, but most of the time I felt the joy of Christmas. I got to see family members. I got to smile, belly laugh, cry, and hug people I haven't seen in a while. It was a great month, and I can't wait to end it with even more joy.

I usually cry on Christmas Eve, because I don't want the year to end. I don't feel that way this year. I am ready to move forward. I'm ready to face 2017 with so much love that it's annoying. I want to start each day with a smile and a heart full of Jesus. I'm ready to get organized and start a new routine. I am sad that this year is over, but am so thrilled to start fresh. 

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Thank you for all the love, the laughs, the tears, the arguments, the joy, the sadness, the events, and the support that made this year unlike any I've had before. In just this year alone, you've clicked on my posts 1,360 times. Those are my combined views on posts just this year. That is insane. Thank you so much for reading, I plan to write more in the New Year. <3

From my favorite little dude to all you dudes, hope your Christmas was bright and your New Years is even brighter. 

-Rachel xx

Progress?

I wasn't sure what to name this blog, but "Progress?" seemed the most fitting. It covers a plethora of topics. I feel like I'm making progress, but then again I feel as if I'm standing still. 

I was reading through some blog posts I wrote this time last year. They were oozing with progress and optimism. I was so comfortable with myself. I was secure. Everything was cream puffs and hot cups of tea. 

I don't know what happened to that girl. She's still in here somewhere, but she seems to be hiding right now. At the moment she's scared away. Many, many things happened this year that seemed to shift her focus away from those optimistic thoughts.

I've said it time and time again, I know it's probably annoying. But writing about it on a somewhat consistent basis helps me face it somehow. I'm staring it in the face and confronting it. I often don't know how or who to tell these things to, so typing it up and opening it up to the world allows a release. It's like I am talking to someone about it. I have fallen into the pit of thinking I am ugly again. As petty as that sounds, I believe it's the root of a lot of my problems that has halted my progress. 

Again, I've written about it before, but in middle school all this fun mess started. I became aware of how I looked and pegged the reason that people were not talking to/liking me on my appearance. It's a awful habit I still carry to this day. Of course they don't like you, you look weird. You look too manly. You're too tall. Your nose is too big. Your feet are big. You aren't little and cute like them. You are fat. They prefer straight hair. All these things that used to haunt me as a preteen and a teenager are all coming back to me as an adult. I hate it.

I was never the girl with the boyfriend. I felt it was because of my looks. I wasn't pretty enough. I wasn't fun enough. I was too shy. (But thankfully, I do know now that it probably wasn't my looks. I knew some of intentions of the guys that I was around, and I wasn't that type of person. I'm sure that was actually the reason.) I don't know why it still bugs me. Why am I still so upset that my 16 year old self never had a boyfriend? I honestly don't know. Maybe it's because I feel that people will see me as undate-able since I was always single. A stupid reason, but it's crossed my mind. 

I'm not trying to play the victim, because I was also in the wrong in some of the attempted relationships I had, but many of them were detrimental to my emotional state. I willingly gave out my trust and love just to have is stomped on. I never felt like anyone truly valued me, but I stayed beside them anyway, because I was getting attention from a boy. A boy that liked me! What a thrill! Later just to find that I was just another coin in a jar collecting dust. In all the people I ever talked to, I can't think of one who I feel truly liked me. I felt like I was just fun for a while, but when they realized I wasn't going to give into every desire they had, I'd get dropped off. And it sucked. It still sucks. Even today if I feel that I'm getting somewhat close to a guy, it frightens me. I get flashbacks to those guys who treated me like a doormat. There were nights of tears and anger because I learned that they were talking to other girls or that they never actually cared for me. I shouldn't have been so trusting, but then again, they should've treated me like a human with a heart and not an object to pass time. I love wholeheartedly but I'm not overbearing. 

I'm not trying to blame all my insecurity on boys. Because the majority of it comes from me and my own thoughts. I scroll through Instagram and see all these girls with perfect bodies and faces. Boys liking their photos left and right. Their mouths watering over these girls. I catch myself scrolling and scrolling looking at their pictures wishing I looked like them and was getting that attention. Is that good attention? Absolutely not. I know if that were actually happening to me, I'd feel uncomfortable. I'm not trying to peg the blame on a person, because again, it's not their fault and I'm truly to blame-- but unfollowing the Kardashians/Jenners on social media was the best thing I ever did. I used to look at their pictures and just wish I was curvy and beautiful. It was especially bad with Kylie Jenner. I envied her curves and lips. I wanted to be able to be as confident as she looks. And that's crazy to me because she's younger than me, and I'm jealous of her. She has so much money that allows her to look like she does. I have to repeatedly tell myself that she is not who I'm supposed to look like or be like. I am my own person. I unfollowed her and those thoughts began to cease. I wasn't comparing myself to her anymore. It was liberating. I'm all about girls expressing themselves in ways they see fit, I'm not trying to belittle her or say she's doing something wrong. I just know that looking at her photos did nothing but make me feel bad about myself, and fear that younger girls may be looking at her and doing the same thing. 

And all this drives me insane because I know that I am beautiful. I know that the Lord made me in his image and I really don't need to be destroying his creation with these thoughts. I know that deep down, but sometimes it feels so deep that it's hard to see. I have found myself recently shrugging off kind comments towards me, like I used to do. I had it set in my mind people were just saying nice things because they felt bad for me and they didn't actually mean them. I have no earthly idea where this came from. I've been asking myself when this started growing, and I truly don't know. The only time I can pin it to is when I was in middle school and started paying attention to boys and seeing my friends start dating. Why did is spiral like this and why did I worry about it so much? No idea. My only answer it's probably from the lack of attention I was receiving from people I was hoping to get it from. Or hormones. 

I feel like I have been falling into the trap of "if he doesn't like you then you must be unworthy of his love and aren't good enough for him." I hate this so much. I hate it. My worth doesn't come from him. My worth comes from no one but myself. I get lonely. I wish I had someone to talk to that would just listen and talk back instead of wanting something in return. (I do have some people like this, I promise I'm not forgetting you.) Flirting can be fun and all, but I'd love to have an intelligent conversation with someone instead. 

I still think, "if so and so just told me I was beautiful, I'd feel so much better." It isn't true. It'll never be true. Harry Styles could come up to me and sincerely tell me I was the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and I'd still probably think he was lying to me. I don't really know how to fight it. There are days where it goes away and I don't focus on it. It's complicated. Because at this point in my life, I don't sit around thinking "wow I'm ugly." I do believe I am somewhat attractive. I feel like I have unique features. I've grown more comfortable with how I'm shaped and how my voice sounds. I do know there are people who have complimented me that truly mean it. I know not everyone is lying to me when I get complimented on my looks. But there's always been this little burnt-orange, lumpy looking monster who dances around my mind shooting down compliments with his little evil scepter. I let him win way too often. I want him to go away. I don't know how to make him leave. It's hard because tomorrow he may be gone on a long vacation and won't be back for a while. It's weird. 

I feel like I'm worrying about nothing. There are way  more important things in life going on than if I feel beautiful or not. Bigger things are happening that matter more. It still hurts a lot, though. I'd much rather be focusing on my art or on other people, but this has been annoying me a lot lately. There are some people in my life as of late that I've developed feelings for. I felt that if I get told by them, "you're beautiful/pretty/something," I'll feel better. Well, it happened. And it felt crappy because I was the idiot who kind of subtly squeezed it out of them. It didn't feel good knowing I purposely tried to receive a compliment from a particular person and then when I got the compliment, I felt like trash. I didn't feel good about myself. I actually felt much worse than before I heard those words that were supposed to make me happy. I basically feel like I'm chasing my own tail and I'm getting dizzy. 

I don't like feeling that way. I'm not sure how to control it. I don't want this to worry anyone, which  may sound stupid to say that at the end of this post. Because I'm happy, I am excited and thankful to be alive and super excited about the Christmas season. I still laugh everyday and dance around in my room pretending I'm Britney Spears. I'm fine! My heart is happy and I feel like I'm overflowing with more love than I have before, just not love towards myself. This has just been a weird couple of weeks of hardcore insecurity flooding back to me. I'm confused at the moment to why it's coming back. All I'm doing now is trying my best to see the beauty in myself and thanking the Lord for making me the way I am. I'm trying to realize all because some cute guy doesn't like me, doesn't mean I am unlikable to all the boys in the world. My worth doesn't diminish because of him. I have people in my life that love and appreciate me, I am healthy, I am happy, I'm currently sitting by a twinkling tree. I have more than I'll ever need. I just need to learn how to transfer the optimism towards others to myself.

And I truly, truly am thankful for those who support me and speak kind words towards me. I am sincerely trying to take it all to heart and kick the monster out. My mind is my own worst enemy. Here's to progress.

-Rachel xx

Pathetic.

I danced around my room a bit. Brushed my teeth and pulled out my makeup bag. I powdered my cheeks and then had to blow off the bit I spilled off my shirt. I unbraided my hair, sprayed in some dry shampoo and fluffed accordingly. I swiped on some lipstick and put on my Penny Lane coat. I got in my car and blasted One Direction while driving the backroads to school. Needless to say, it was better than a typical morning. I felt better than I had in a long time. 

I never imagined that my mood would be lifted by 1000x later on that morning. 

My final project in painting was due today, along with four other people's. Of course, I gracefully came into the room lugging a 24x36in canvas before coughing my head off because I sucked some air down wrong. We gathered toward the front of the room and looked at the work of the three people before me. I was the last to sign up, so I went last. My hands were clammy and nervously wrapped around my little floral notebook I carry around to take art-related notes. My hands were so clammy that the paper design on the book started to curl up. It was finally my turn so I put up my portrait, this one to be exact (a snippet of it, atleast!)

I timidly watched my classmates walk closer to my painting. Pointing fingers and whispering. I tried not to listen to what they were saying. I was trying to focus on how I was going to introduce this massive man's face that was staring at them. 

About a week ago when I began this painting, my professor came up to  me and told me to consider explaining my fascination with celebrity and why I tend to paint them more than anything else. That statement stuck with me for the remainder of the week. I really didn't know right off why I painted celebrity so much. Easy accessibility to photos? No personal connection so if I mess up they won't find out? Neither of those seemed right. I meditated over it until I came up with a reasoning behind it. And like most great ideas, it came to me one night when I wasn't able to sleep because of the cough I mentioned before. 

These paintings and drawings of celebrity come from a place of loneliness. A place of deep, deep, regret and loneliness. This might be more eloquently explained in the write up I did for my painting, 

"This portrait, like much of my work, is an open curtain to the inner workings of my heart and mind. Images of celebrities are a common motif in my work and for a specific reason. Growing up, I always dreamed of performing or doing something unconventional. I watched movies and listened to music, often with tears in my eyes because I was so moved by the work I was witnessing from these people I would never meet. Creating images of these people somehow makes me closer to them. On my loneliest days these individuals were there for me the instant I needed them. My hand was being held. The thought of never being able to meet these inspirational individuals lead to me creating portraits of them. The sadness I feel once I remember that thought is what drives me to make these images, and that is also why I usually chose an expression that is more serious. I create these portraits as a small thank you for all that they’ve done for me. I see so much beauty in them that I often don’t see in myself, so creating these images somehow helps me see that beauty in myself.  I see reflections of myself in them, partially because they’re living a life I’ve dreamed of since I was a child."

I know I've talked about all this before. But sometimes I feel like the extent of it is something I don't like to touch on because it makes me feel pathetic. The amount of times I went to Disney Channel for comfort instead of talking to an actual person is kinda pathetic. 

Which leads me back into the story of today's painting class, where the word "pathetic" spilled from my lips more than once. 

I was verbally explaining to my professor and classmates that I created this painting out of what I had written in my statement and because I was kind of in love with the Patrick Fugit guy I painted. I told them I felt like that made me sound pathetic for loving some guy who I've never met. I explained in great detail why I always painted him. I'm not sure if I've said this before on here, but if not I'll tell you now. Last October, I was having immense doubts in myself that have bled into this current year. I felt like I may have been making a mistake by being an artist. I felt like my work wasn't good. I struggled with confidence in my work. Around the same time, I stumbled upon Patrick Fugit's movies by randomly watching one of them on Netflix one day. I was enthralled with this guy. I connected with his characters and him as a person. Something about this guy continuously pulled me in. I was creating art again. I was drawing him nonstop. My love for art came back. I drew every little bump on his face until my hands were completely blackened with charcoal. I did the same with this portrait of him above. I wanted all of his imperfections in it. I wanted his bumps and that mole by his eye. I wanted to focus so heavily on those things because those things made him so human to me. He was no longer that guy on the screen. He was real. He was beside me. He was silently patting me on the back and telling me I'm not a failure in this field. Somehow this guy pulled me out of my slump and made me feel like an artist again. 

And again, I said this in class today and told myself that this made me pathetic to feel so strongly for someone who I've never met. To be so in love with some guy, so much adoration for him that I pay attention to his pores, the way his eyebrows curve, and his little eye mole. It must be pathetic. Quite honestly, while telling them this, I felt embarrassed. 

I also told them how painting these people with all their imperfections made me feel beauty in myself. I'm still not sure how to explain that one. I think by focusing so heavily on someone else's features, even down to the mole, and considering them beautiful - I think that in turn made me slowly start doing that to myself. My little freckles, my cheek dent, my different sized eyes. I slowly begin to see them as beautiful, too. 

I said all this and so much more. I basically put all of my insecurities and fears into this giant Gatorade bucket and dumped it on all my classmates like we were celebrating a big win or something. The response I got was unlike anything I could've ever imagined. 

These people I barely talked to were saying they were proud of me. They were proud that I poured that Gatorade on them. What?! My professor told me my self-effacing humor was hilarious. A couple girls who I've always been slightly envious of told me that they were in complete shock that I didn't see beauty in myself, then told me I was beautiful. The earnestness in their voice made it hard for me to respond. Again, what?! A girl said she just wanted to hug me. I was commended for my writing, and that the writing opened my painting into a completely new light they never would've known about. It was so crazy because I haven't talked much to these people and they were talking about how they would watch me paint during class and how amazed they were by what I was doing. I never even noticed any of it was happening. My self-deprecating self assumes people automatically don't like me, so I keep to myself. 

The one comment that struck the strongest chord with me was, "you aren't pathetic." I didn't realize how many times I called myself or my past pathetic until a couple people brought it up to me afterwards. Being told that my true feelings weren't pathetic was the most heart wrenching part of my morning. I never expressed why I painted celebrities or Patrick so much until today. I kept it under wraps because I felt like I was going to get thought of as "weird" or "pathetic" for it. I was reassured by my professor and another guy in class that having a muse isn't pathetic. Having someone I love to draw and paint and makes me feel like a beautiful person doesn't make me pathetic. 

The whole time during these comments I was still clutching my little notebook, trying to take it all in. I was nodding and smiling. I wish I could've recorded it all because I'm afraid I have already forgotten parts of it because I was so incredibly overwhelmed by the response my painting got. It was such a strange feeling. This may be extreme, but it felt like I had placed my fragile, beating heart down on a table in front of a crowd, expecting someone to look at me like I was disgusting. But instead, I saw nothing but pure love and compassion in their eyes. The way they were looking at me, I honestly don't think I'll ever get that image out of my mind. I can't explain it. My heart was pounding the whole time. 

It all wrapped up and I went to get my backpack to head out. I was looking at my phone and my professor came up and asked me if I understood all that had just happened. I nodded, and told him, "Yes, I think it's still sinking in." I may be imagining things, but I think he knew. I think he knew how much of an experience that must've been for me. I honestly believe he's somewhat understood all along. I think he's seen that lack of confidence since he first met me freshman year. He knows. And now other people do, too. And even though my inner child is scared that I opened up that much to others, my adult self feels more secure than I did when I walked into that class today. 

I believe there must've been some aura around me today that was exuding joy. I was standing in line in the food court after class holding my painting. My head was still reeling from earlier. A frat-looking guy (I understand this is stereotypical, but he just had that look. I don't mean it in a rude way, but usually I don't get attention from any guys like that) looked at me and asked "did you paint that? Who is it?" I looked at him, forgetting I was holding a painting. I laughed a little and said yeah, and told him it was Patrick Fugit. He told me he had no idea who that is but "if he sees it, I'm sure he'll be pleased with it." I thanked him, not knowing how else to respond. He kept continuing conversation and I was thrown off guard. He got his food and walked away from me, but before he left he said, "keep on painting." 

I don't honestly know why I'm writing this. I don't want it to sound like I'm bragging, I hope it doesn't. It was just the first time I think I've ever felt like an artist. The process of this painting somewhat solidified that for me. I've gotten more comments in person on this painting than I ever have in the whole time I've been creating art. I'm sitting in bed right now wondering what on earth I did to deserve any of this. It makes me want to cry. To have something that truly came from my heart, deep deep from  my heart, showcased in front of everyone and have it applauded for the amount of emotion that went into it, I don't know. That's something I'm not sure if I'll ever feel again. I've smiled more today than I have in years. My heart was overflowing all day. 

I will never truly understand or believe that all this actually happened today. I am truly trying to take all the comments I got today to heart. It's very hard for me to do that, since I grew up having a hard time accepting compliments. I promise you I'm trying to be kind to myself and let myself accept that maybe they're right. 

Thank you for reading this, I know it's long!

-Rachel xx 

Nerium Oleander

I wrote this back in the summertime and never shared it. I was flipping through some old writings and came across it and felt like sharing it with you. 

Nerium Oleander 7-12-16

The gardens bloomed as spring approached

constant whispers of new life

petals were warm and tender

waiting to grow into something beautiful 

I saw the petals

I heard the laughter of the wind

I reached to pluck you from the ground

my hand froze 

you came to me

The petals had joyous days

basking in the spring sun

butterflies landed on them instantly

the days were as sweet as nectar

My days turned silent

the laughter vanished

I reached to pluck you from the ground

my hand froze

you were gone

The petals fell on the dry soil

summer heat made them crackle

the rose whispered to the tulip

she didn't realize he was oleander 

You're Going to be All Right.

Something I've been telling myself, especially lately.

You are going to be all right. 

Maybe it's just that time of the school year where work is continuously loaded onto students. Maybe it's the fact that it's November 2nd and it's 80 degrees outside. (This winter baby wants temperatures below 50!) Maybe it's me feeling like I have no one who I can run to if I'm upset and need to talk. Maybe it's my lack of confidence creeping back in. Maybe it's all of these.

I was doing really well for the longest time. I stayed off my phone and tried plugging into tangible things. I took care of myself physically and was trying to eat better. My body, mind, and soul felt at peace for a few weeks. I was doing great. I was thriving. 

But recently, that feeling has started to fade. I've slipped back into my old ways. I've been staring at screens again. I began to compare myself to other girls I'd see on social media and in real life. I see pictures of couples and people getting married and I started to feel down on myself for not ever dating. Something must be wrong with me. Everyone else I know is dating, married, or having kids. These girls and guys are my age. There must be something wrong with me. Why doesn't anyone want to date me? Am I undateable? Toxic, toxic thoughts. Belittling my worth because I am not currently in a relationship with anyone. Telling myself something must be wrong with me since I'm single. Telling myself that I must be to hideous or somehow repulsive to others. It sounds so extreme but I fight with these thoughts every day, especially recently. I know I've touched on this topic many times before, but it's hard. It's extremely hard. I've never been one who felt the need to date to be happy, but at times I do wish that I had someone I could share those feelings with. My heart is internally exploding with so much adoration towards others, but trying to show that to someone without appearing "needy" or "overly-emotional" is difficult. It leads to a lot of feelings of isolation and like I'm going to be thought of as creepy for being so fascinated with people. It's a slippery slope and I'm not wearing the proper shoes. 

I've had to tell myself recently that beauty is subjective, and not the most important thing. I grew up not loving how I looked, and that didn't fade until I started college. But now the fade is becoming a little sharper. Those feelings are coming back. Feeling that I have to wear makeup and dress nice for people to notice and like me. Old, negative remarks about my appearance that I got from elementary-high school have been flowing back. Why? I have no idea. I kept hearing that kid in 5th grade call me a parrot because of my nose. I heard my friend tell me that my legs would look better if they were tan. I heard the guy online comment on my friend's MySpace photo, telling her that she was beautiful, but me "not so much." I heard that guy tell me I'd look better if I wore my hair down or if it was straight. I heard the laughter of my math class when I was told that the rat in the class "probably crawled into Rachel's hair because it thought it was a nest." All things that were said to me before I was even 16 years old. They came flooding back this week. I had them tucked away for the longest time. I feel like the stress I've been going through caused me to unearth things that needed to stay buried. All the things I've bottled up for years slowly start bubbling to the surface again. It's a monster I find myself constantly battling. It hurts because deep down I know that those comments were so dumb and more of a reflection of those saying them instead of a reflection of who I actually was, but they still resurface. I am worth so much more than how my face curves or how my hair falls on my shoulders. I need to tell myself that more. 

I've been having a rough few weeks at school. In my art classes, I've been doing well but I've begun comparing my art to other's again. I still sometimes feel like I'm not part of the group, I've been subconsciously distancing myself again. I feel like my heart isn't in my work like it was before. I'm sure it's stemming from my self-confidence falling to the ground again and falling back into my old ways. I've also been struggling in my other general education classes. I'm regretting taking two histories and two sciences in one day, 3 back to back and one hour and a half break. (Where I usually take a 20-30 minute power nap, just so I don't fall asleep in American History.) A couple weeks ago, I didn't get enough sleep. I woke up nearly every hour and felt restless. I decided not to go to my Geology Lab, just so I could get an hour more of sleep. In my three years of college, that is the only time I ever skipped a class. I didn't think it'd be a big deal. Well, boy was I wrong. I ultimately believe that decision is what made my last test grade in there lower than I'd like it to be. I missed one 55 minute class to catch up on sleep. Of course that one class I skipped was the class where he described a giant chunk of material that was on our test. That's the last time I ever skip a class, I'll tell you that much. After this semester I'll be done with all general education courses. Praying for a smooth end to this semester. 

My heart goes through so many highs and lows. Some days, like today, I feel good about myself. I took the time to make sure I ate and washed my face. I prayed for a productive day and peaceful day, so far it's going well. I am still a little bit stressed and overwhelmed, but for the most part I feel okay. My critique in class went well and I have a lot of ideas flowing about a new painting. My mind is still floating back to those negative thoughts. Listening to the Almost Famous soundtrack helped me regain some hope. I got a good night sleep last night and woke up feeling renewed. My hair cooperated with me and I put eyeliner on. (I haven't worn eyeliner in months, so the fact that I put it on and it looks even is an accomplishment for me, haha!) A sweet girl in my class told me that my paints that I mixed up were beautiful. I found out that even though I made a not so amazing grade on my last Geology exam, I did better than the overall class percentage. I'm trying to set little goals and focus on the positive things. After tomorrow I won't have another test until late November. I get to start a new painting soon. It's almost Christmas time! 

Ultimately, I keep telling myself I'm going to be all right. These tests do not define me. My relationship status doesn't define me. My looks don't define me. My friends may be going out on dates while I'm sitting at home writing, but that's okay. Maybe I'm placed in these predicaments for a particular reason that hasn't been shown to me yet. Maybe all the nights I stay up drawing or writing will turn into something bigger than anything I can imagine right now. I know God has a plan for my life. I know his righteous right hand is holding me as I trod through these times. He made me this way for a reason. He made me loving and forgiving and full of a childlike hope for the future. Right now may seem kind of muddy and bleak, but there's a glimmer of hope shining through. I'm going to be all right.  

This song by John Denver has remained constant in my mind through these past few weeks. I think it perfectly sums up how I've been feeling.

So you speak to me of sadness

And the coming of the winter

Fear that is within you now

It seems to never end

And the dreams that have escaped you

And the hope that you've forgotten

You tell me that you need me now

You want to be my friend

And you wonder where we're going

Where's the rhyme and where's the reason

And it's you cannot accept

It is here we must begin

To seek the wisdom of the children

And the graceful way of flowers in the wind

For the children and the flowers

Are my sisters and my brothers

Their laughter and their loveliness

Could clear a cloudy day

Like the music of the mountains

And the colours of the rainbow

They're a promise of the future

And a blessing for today

To end, I just wanted to say thank you for reading this. Thank you for being a friend to me and taking time out of your day to read this jumble of words that flow from my mind to my hands. You are the friend I need to talk to, and I am thankful you are there for me to talk to. 

-Rachel xx

"Get yourself out there!"

It has been a week, and it's only Wednesday. 

The past couple weeks have felt like weeks, if you get what I mean. Every day I've had something due in class. Every day I filled at least 3 pages of notes per class. I've made near 100 flashcards this week alone. I painted into the night just to finish a project by morning. I've heard so much information in my classes that at this particular moment my head feels like it's going to explode. Every weekend this month I've had some sort of plans, from lunches to family reunions. (Which I love, by the way, they've been good de-stressers.) 

Monday, a dear friend of mine helped me lug 8 framed drawings/paintings of mine across a crowded parking lot then up two flights of stairs to the painting studio for a show this Friday. She had to park illegally just to help me out. (Missy, you are God-sent and I'm so glad you didn't get a ticket.) Because Lord knows if I tried to carry all of those across campus I would probably be laying in the Peay Bowl right now because I would've just given up. (The Peay Bowl is a giant sinkhole on our campus that they decided to fill with pretty rocks that form a large "AP." Just in case you're reading this and very confused!) Just wanted to say thank you again to Missy, who literally saved the day on Monday. 

I have my first show this week that isn't an on-campus juried show. I received a scholarship and was given the opportunity to show some work. As amazing as that is and as much as I've been thanking God for it, I am extremely nervous. This show isn't in the cushy comfort of my professors and friends. This is me having to drive my own work to some place that I've never been. The event is called a Soiree. That sounds super fancy. I feel like I need white gloves just to go to the thing. The fanciest place I've ever been was The Cheese Lady in Michigan. (And little did I know in my one-stop-light-town mind, there are more cheeses than Kraft singles.) I am totally excited but equally as nervous. But I also feel little better knowing two other students are showing work, too. I'm excited to see what they've done since I'm not too familiar with either of them. I know it'll be fun, but y'all know me. Uncertainty has always made me anxious. I am so thankful for your encouraging words and hugs every time it gets brought up in a conversation, I really am. This is all so new and exciting and I don't think it's sunk in yet. I'm sure it will on Friday morning.

All of this got me thinking about how much I tend to keep to myself without realizing it, especially with my work. I've always been timid and quiet. I have a lot of things I want to say but never feel like I know how to efficiently articulate them. In class today, my professor gave a talk about getting our work into the world and how to network and all of that stuff that terrifies me. He used me as an example a couple times, people turned and looked at me. I felt like that kid in class who always raises his hand, but in this case I never raised my hand. 

I often feel looked over everywhere I go. I didn't really realize why until today when my friend Tyler came up to me and asked why I was separated from everyone else in my class. (My easel was on the right side of the room while everyone else was on the left.) I stood there for a second while I was trying to give an answer. I honestly don't know why. I believe it's a subconscious thing. I've always preferred working independently instead of in a group. I get very distracted when other people are working around me. I want to watch them and I feel like I have to say something to them if I'm near them. I guess I feel like I work better if all I am focusing on is what I'm doing. I still don't really know why I don't put my easel with everyone else's. It's easy to be overlooked and left alone if you are separated from everyone else. Tyler ended the question with, "Get yourself out there!" 

There's a lot of truth in that exclamation. Keeping to myself and not involving myself in things that could benefit me is doing nothing but holding me back. Sitting in bed and drawing in a sketchbook and closing it, being in a class with other people and professors and not engaging in conversation, neither of these things are helping me. Deep down I know that my timidness is what has held me back for years. As I've gotten older, that fact has become even more blaring. I'm learning it all in baby steps. I'm trying to ask more questions. I'm trying to get my work out there. I'm trying to make more work. I'm trying to talk to people, even if it doesn't seem like I am. The fear of saying something wrong to a friend, a professor, or even in a critique has been a constant nuisance. I'm trying to work on it. I really am. 

I'm not really sure what I'm trying to get at. Again, here I am feeling like I'm saying something completely wrong. I was setting up my easel to start a painting before bed and something was telling me to write. So thank you for reading. Thank you for reading any of the things I write, for that matter. Thank you for your continued encouragement and hugs. Thank you for commenting on a drawing I did. Thank you for helping me carry stuff up stairs (lookin' at you, Missy. You're still the best.) Thank you for not losing faith in me when I let my nerves overtake me. It means more than you'll ever know. 

Everyday I've been working towards bettering myself. Body, soul, mind, & spirit. And now through my artwork. 

In the words of my favorite semi-fictional character, Penny Lane:

"It's all happening." 

-Rachel xx

  

I Can't Do It Anymore.

This is going to be shorter than my usual posts and I hope you understand what I'm saying. 

I cannot do this anymore. 

Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat, all of these social media apps are squeezing me dry. Something I once loved and looked forward to being a part of is becoming the biggest soul-sucker in my life. 

I am not getting into a  political conversation, but I am so, so, so incredibly tired of all these presidential posts. I'm tired of logging onto Facebook and see people attacking one another for their beliefs. I don't agree with a lot of people's opinions I see on my feed, but you know what I do? I accept that it's their opinion, and move on. I rarely post any political beliefs because I know I'll be thought of negatively for it. People who were kind to me will start to treat me like my brain is made of green jello. And do not tell me they won't. I posted a painting I did of two African American girls holding hands during a Social Injustice Rally, literally the only somewhat controversial thing I've ever posted, and my intentions for it were immediately questioned by someone who I thought was accepting of me. A painting. Something I love to do was questioned because it made someone uncomfortable. 

And I'll tell you right now, I am no theologian, I'm no pastor, but I know that this is not how we are supposed to be acting. God told us to love. We are supposed to love everyone. Black, yellow, red, purple, polka-dotted, Republican, Democrat, Gay, Straight, smelly, clean, short, tall, loud, quiet, dancey. No matter who they are. If you agree with them or not. You are called to love them. We are not called to hate. And I've seen way too much hate. We are not representing God the way we should, and my heart is broken. (Disclaimer: Just in case anyone jumps my tail, I am not perfect & I'm not saying that I am. I make mistakes. I've been hateful toward people before that I shouldn't have. We all make mistakes. But it's time to change those hateful thoughts into love-filled ones.) 

I love being on here. I love looking at people's photos. I love sharing my art with you. But the amount of hatred I've seen lately is way too appalling to even continue to try to maneuver this whole social media thing. And before you say, "just block the people you don't like or are offensive, or hide their posts." I have. The hatred continues to surface from the most unlikely of places. The only way I know how to avoid it is stop feeding into the source, and learning to put my energy into other, more meaningful, things. 

I am just exhausted. I know it's silly to blame social media entirely, a good chunk of it is because I've struggled with insecurity since I was a tween. I've wanted to be accepted by someone or something for years. Social media is not it. Social media is not where I need to gain acceptance. Memories aren't made through social media. You won't remember the likes you got on your photo ten years from now. I still catch myself today looking through girl's Instagram pages that I know, many who are way more attractive than I'll ever be, racking up 200+ likes on every selfie they post. It makes my measly 25 look like dust on the ground (and I rarely get that many.) But that is so stupid! Likes? Someone's thumb tapping a heart shaped button is making me feel like I am not as pretty as these girls? Ugh. It's so dumb and I hate that I feed into it. I hate it so much.

Truly, I have found that spending time in other things that are not screen-related are so much more worthwhile. Indulging in things that seem somewhat dated now, such as writing, listening to records, thumbing through an antique store, taking a walk and talking actual words to an actual, living person...what a concept. I've begun to live like it is 2002 again. Using cellphones for communicating. Taking in things that can only be truly absorbed with your face towards the sun rather than toward a screen. Reading a Bible or a book instead of a news story that won't benefit me. 

Saying this, I'm not just disappearing completely. I'm still going to be on here every once in a while. I still want to write and post my drawings for you. I'm just cutting it out enough where I can learn to enjoy life again. Enjoy it the way I did when I was seven, running around my fence picking up acorns and pretending I was Lizzie McGuire. Back when I loved everything and everybody in my life. I'm ready to get back to that.