not only, but also

the existential crisis i was kind of vague about in previous posts was regarding my work. i’m so dramatic. it’s amazing what a few weeks of perspective can achieve. even in these several days, i can look back and see where perseverance and vulnerability to change has gotten me over a hurdle into the centered environment i have longed for myself. what i’ve tried to articulate in previous posts is that i was passionate about my last job. i felt important. those brands resonated with me, because i took ownership and responsibility of all i could. i value the people i worked beside every day. 

for five years i had the same bosses. for five years i had the same career responsibilities. for five years i had the same mental projections about the future based on those essentials. again, i’m framing this very dramatically. i sought the ends to all of these things. even though i still get to do some part-time work with my old company, i can’t be as immersed i once was. for me, when i transition into a new role, i’m all in. my mind begins to soak in and soak up. i start noticing the world from that perspective, and the old point of view fades. it’s still there somewhere. it’s just not in the forefront. 

to be real and raw, it all just happened fast. i knew my marriage was ending far before papers were filed. we both did. that’s how we’re able to be friends now and raise our daughter together. but right after i filed, i decided i was moving to a new, clear space. and to a school zone for V’s future. then, i felt a prompting to look for jobs. i applied for two. i got called for this one, and i prayed for a specific offer. i told my mom if i got that, i was accepting it. and here we are.

that kind of faith leaves room for doubt, and it got to me for weeks. i picked up and left a lot of comfortable knowledge and command behind. for weeks, i only saw my parents and vayda. i didn’t even really tell them about work because i was too tired to articulate what i was learning. we finally got to the week before i moved and packed up the whole house, my mom, dad, and grandma. that was the turning point for me. it felt so light to give away all that burdened me, organizing it beautifully into a place that is mine and Vayda’s only. without realizing it, i was performing all my tasks with my own flair at work and feeling like a team member. i had gotten through a big event and two grants while maintaining my marketing functions. 

i was doubting myself in certain moments, but ultimately i knew in my core that my belief in myself and my values is what landed me in this position. in the past month since moving and having this realization, i am overcome with more peace than ever. i wasn’t suffering in unrest before. i was simply enjoying solitude while i meditated on the right direction for my life. but now that i have this peace, i find my productivity has increased tremendously, and i attract great opportunities in areas that i desire. i have several commissioned painting projects in my queue which brings my heart so much joy. i have graphic design clients i work on in my free time.

and i simply love my career. my job with the agency is something i am passionate about. it’s fast paced, i design all day, write grants, talk to the press–there is always something going on. it’s something that makes me proud. i can visualize a future now that makes me prouder than anything i previously imagined. 

wanting for nothing feels excellent. blessed is really all i can say about my life.

good muddy

i’ve been writing a lot lately. mercury is in retrograde, but that isn’t why. i’m determined to get all of my thoughts out here instead of keeping them so far down inside. for so many years, this blog was a tool for my brain. i became ashamed of myself and my thoughts. my true self. i couldn’t write about who i was. my relationships with others dictated my thoughts about myself, and i retreated. not that everyone should have a blog, but this is so much a part of me and my journey. 

the best part about the past three years was being able to stay at home with vayda. i got to work from home and go to work a few days a week. being a stay at home mom was my dream, and spending those moments with vayda was precious. it’s a little daunting and lonely, too, being the kind of person who enjoys work and people. also, i wasn’t very organized. we sat in our pajamas a lot, played, and watched tv. i didn’t make baby food.

but now that i work full time and only get to see a picture of vayda on my desk, i wish i had spent less time wishing when i was with her. i wish i had gotten down on the floor and played with her more. i wish i had spent less time on my phone concerned with work and other people who weren’t concerned with me. it’s an ache in my heart. i wish i could have photographic memories of her tiny little face every day that i spent with her. all the plump and the wrinkles that melted and grew tall. all the muscles that used to rest against me now barely have a chance to squeeze a hug for me.

i look at her every day, and my heart is mud. mud like i am just a kid myself, how can i be responsible for this beautiful being? mud like i am proud this little person is grown up and talking and smart and thriving. mud like i want to take back time i’ve wasted on anything or anyone else since she’s been alive. mud like shouldn’t this little person still be a tiny thing in my arms? how can the moments she was in my belly be agonizingly long, but these days speed by with no remorse? mud because i got to carry you everywhere for so long, but now i have to miss you for so many hours of the day. having Vayda made my heart muddy. good muddy. 

my mom keeps vayda while i work. it’s a huge blessing. my grandmother helps her everyday. it’s a good feeling to know vayda is with the people who raised me while i’m working on my career. it puts my heart at ease. if i am going to be missing out, i want my mom there to be enjoying her. it’s a hard feeling to resolve. but i have to appreciate the three years i enjoyed, which is why i made the decisions i did in my life.

being a career-minded woman, my job was always the center of my life. since i was 16, i have kept a job or three at a time. i simply love working. i found at my first job that i was driven to work more and go for promotions at any chance. i get super focused and enthusiastic. i just love it, almost to a downfall. when i had vayda, work became less important to me, but i still struggled to balance it in my life. my new position is really the structure i need to focus on all areas on my life. i am feeling a great deal of peace and ability to focus on myself and vayda in ways i wouldn’t be able to in other situations. 

i guess i feel a little inferior, whining after three great years at home with my daughter when many moms only get weeks. leaving a job i knew for nearly five years to step into the unknown was also difficult. moving into a new place in a new county…i have turned my life upside down. but i feel stronger. i’m independent. i’m thriving. the only thing i could want for more of is more time with my child, and i think that is healthy. the rest feels light, and that leaves me blessed.

purge

packing up my house has been easier than i thought it’d be. i have donated and thrown away countless dozens of piles and bags. i’m amazed i cleared nine large garbage bags of clothes and still have three closets and a garment rack full of clothes. (they’re really small closets, OK?!) i’ve thrown away old, bent art. even things i might like but just don’t find joy in anymore. the massive purge of 2018. i feel so light.

i had a mini existential crisis a couple of weeks ago. all this introspection showed me how far i’ve come over the last six months. i have not quit moving forward. blogging lately is really the first time i’ve looked back and analyzed how much i have accomplished. i made up my mind and i got to today. a couple of weeks ago i regressed a little and thought about retreating. my mind is going through the process i discussed in my last blog. changing, learning new processes, adjusting to new. i believe there is a natural loneliness. a mourning process. a tiredness. maybe even a longing and a reaching for my old mentality. but i’ve ultimately found, it’s gone.

not lost, but altered. i cannot backtrack to that place. this is a beautiful thing. it took me talking to some of my mentors and meditating on my thoughts for a few days to gain a more well-rounded perspective. who wants to keep the same endless mentality? i’d be so bored without the challenge of learning and growing in each moment. in my case, i am so blessed. i look back, and there is a great deal of passion in my interests. following the signs, i look ahead and there is potential for beauty, meaning, and purpose overflowing. 

thinking back to what i wrote about changing from art to business major in college earlier this month, i gave it negative placement in my life. ultimately, it has shaped my ability to make wise art, business, and personal “adult” decisions (financial, etc.). i think it’s human nature to look back on the part of the choice one didn’t make, like not continuing the art courses, and wonder. i spend a lot of time wondering. i want to make the best choices. and i guess now that i have the peace to heal over more recent life events, i am looking even further back and forgiving regrets i didn’t even know i owned.

i owe so much to my college career. i think it was painful for me because the person closest to me was immersed in all the studio classes while i was sitting in business communications lectures, which made me very jealous. plus, university was one big competition for me against my high school mentor’s voice in my head, “anyone who stays in Albany will never graduate college in four years, or maybe ever.” i wanted to disprove that theory. and i did (no one noticing, but me). 

why is this so heavy on my mind now? i graduated from college eight years ago. it’s weird how the mind works……. maybe it’s because after all these years, i haven’t had a job i felt that my bachelor’s degree mattered until the career i have today. i sacrificed my passion, art, to complete a degree program. i got a great marketing internship, which let to all my career choices. i have had profitable and passionate careers, but this is the first time i feel like my education means something.

while i was packing and purging, i found my college diploma on the bookshelf at home just like any other book, and i brought it up to my office. i’m not looking back to regret what could have come from other roads, but looking forward to what opportunities i can cultivate through my hard work. there are so many days within years between college and today that are blurs of waste. i hope i can reach forward with purpose and focus. when i look back.

 

diving

i’ve spent the last several years distracting myself. maybe eight years or so. with work. i love to work to avoid what’s underneath. it’s an easy way to admire yourself and have others admire my work ethic, when really i’m avoiding a mass weight of life under the surface.

it has also been the ultimate means for presenting my flawed decision making tactic: spontaneity. it’s not that i skydive frequently. it’s more like i overwork and worry on mindless, unimportant things as if they matter to the point that i avoid thinking about crucial issues so that i just make important decisions in the moment. then i overthink the aftermath when i have no choices. 

recently i took a new job. it’s the first job i’ve had since university where i leave work and actually leave work. it’s normal office hours (a shock to my psyche). i’ve had time to think. and write. and evaluate. and be introspective. it’s been therapeutic, and honestly, a little agonizing. but i’m feeling peaceful to acknowledge more within.

when i changed my major from art to business very spontaneously in college, it seemed right. a friend of mine had just died, and i was trying to cope. i could keep my scholarships. i wouldn’t have to spend six to eight more years in school. my artistic mentors even suggested the change, because they said i’d get farther in life professionally and artistically with a bachelor’s in business.

with the flick of a pen, my mentality changed for years and years. as an art major, the world was bright with hues and forms. everywhere i looked, a painting. a project. boundless energy. trading to business, i struggled. there was artistic opportunity. there were people to influence and communicate toward in marketing. but it wasn’t art. at it’s core, it’s science. feeding science to an artistic brain changes it. i became less creative. my ability to paint and my focus on what i loved in career and hobby died a little.

during this same time in my life i had the greatest romantic love i’ve ever known. will i ever know anything as great? i spent so many years denying that it was a love for the ages. but inevitably, it’s shaped all the chasing, running, and comparing i have done these subsequent years. thrilling myself with feelingless flings, jumping into relationships with major red flags, hoping on people who invest little in me. have i even healed properly? i know true love and i have experienced bliss. yet i have recklessly pursued so many situations that are unfulfilling and full of pain.  

business is a great degree. the men in my life are great people. but the choices to invest my life have all been snap. i can see moments like stops in a film reel when continuing the course instead of spontaneously diverging would have benefited my dreams, my health, my heart. hindsight is haunting. but who would i be without the pain of knowing? maybe someone more. maybe someone less.

i am my experiences, so how could i know?

i wouldn’t have my child.
i am a marketer now.
i am an artist still. i’m simply a different artist than i envisioned in my teens. a graphic artist. a practical, everyday artist. i do make a living designing, so my art teachers were right. that paid off. i may not be painting still life or drawing illustrations on a whim like i might have a decade ago, but i’ve learned my mind can be altered by its environment and its training. 

maybe i’ll never know love like i once had it, but i am grateful i had it for a moment in time. i don’t miss a person. it’s a difficult feeling to articulate. when a person is young, they don’t know what’s ahead. they think there is so much of what they’re holding. i was naive to how unique sharing intellectual depth, understanding, connection and chemistry is. spending unsuccessful years trying to grasp that concept in others is maddening and lonely, maybe even impossible. 

diving inward can be dark some days. ultimately, i feel very peaceful. i am in a friendly place with everything that could be negative. all of my triggers are at a distance. i’d rather experience some loneliness and be in an honest, authentic place than cover up with distraction and chaos. i think there’s a place for spontaneity in making decisions. some of my snap decisions have been beautiful. some have been challenging. methinks, for now, i will be more thoughtful.

 

i’ll bite

or write, rather.

i’ve been seeing this thing i like where people are posting very stream of consciousness style and it took me back to a time i was reading a lot of faulkner and i am trying it. although i am already struggling in my mind to quit thinking about what audience i’m writing to and what my eventual message is going to be but the purpose of this is just a writing exercise and maybe also an exercise in vulnerability. if we are really being honest, i can never spell excersize correctly on the first try. i may even get crazy and forget some commas and add some s.pontaneo’us punct!uation, or maybe even write in one big run-on sentence to free myself of the ongoing grammar critique inside of me but anyway, i digress. i have not written in a while on my blog. i will visit my website and think about all the topics i might be able to conjure up a few paragraphs about. but then i wander away in thought thinking that wouldn’t even seem authentic in an age where everyone has a blog and is trying to be as raw, as fashionable, as healthy, as mommerific, as artsy, as creative, as barf me barf me barf me this is exactly why i cannot write about anything quite much at all because all the ideas are taken and how am i even unique? even this little exercize seems overly done “hey look at me i’m different…?”but really the reason i did pop in because i do think noting one’s thoughts is important. sometimes it seems a little weird posting a selfie but gosh i have been loving it lately. i remember when there was some intrigue, spontaneity…what is that word i am looking for? resist google. stretch your mind. think hard. keep resisting google. look out the window and don’t think about it for a second. synonyms…fine, i will google it: ANTICIPATION in even seeing your selfies because you were taking them with a disposable camera and even 24-hour pickup was a novelty. so be cynical all i want to about the age of oversharing and noses stuck in phones but it really is a ‘thing” to be experiencing to a certain degree. after all, we are here in this culture and simply by reacting whether participating, criticizing or observing we are creating a very distinct and necessary point of view for posterity. and as for me. me me me me me. i will partake. why not? i regret way more that i didn’t say in the grand scheme of things and john mayer said to say what you need to say and i will listen to pretty much anything that he says in the key of G. so today i am writing as vayda lays here next to me in the bed. lays lies is laying is lying? i never honestly know but at this point i am not tabbing over to google. i know, you don’t care about me thinking about my grammatical errors, but that’s about 25% of my waking thoughts so they must be included for sheer intellectual honesty. so we are lyyyyyyying here and i feel bad that my baby doesn’t sleep in her own bed. that she has only slept in the beautiful babys dream crib my mom bought her for an hour and fifteen minutes of her whole life. thank goodness its crib to college because i could have bigger things to worry about i mean really you can figuratively spit on me that i am actually worrying about where my child sleeps because she is sleeping and there i go judging myself for caring about the pettiness of my life because it really is an easy, good one and no one cares except you. but anyway i care and i pay for this website and when i started it ten years ago it was just a place to pour my thoughts into an anonymous black hole of eyes that hear with different ears that may never even tell me they see me but i find comfort in knowing they’re around. it’s like writing a letter that drowns in a bottle or a thousand notes and poems and words in a box about you that you or no one will ever completely decipher correctly. see, i enjoy laying here next to vayda every time she naps. i do need a night a week that i don’t go to bed at nine o’clock p.m. but on nights like last night when i sleep ’til 7a.m. and accidentally fall back asleep until noon, i’m able to think in complete quiet besides the soft hum of the fan and the choir of summer birds chirping just behind the bricks that surround us. i’m able to think and reflect and connect instances from today with memories from earlier today or last year or two decades ago if it’s a really lucky day and if i can’t connect them and they seem slightly notable i can record them to be redeemed at a time when i need them. and that is beautiful – that incredibly existential moment when something you’ve kept inside for days, weeks, years all the sudden comes to fruition and makes all the sense it never seemed to could before. all these stories and moments that are individually mine, those are my treasures comma splice. not this blog or your blog that’s popular for a minute or has a lot of followers because of your theme that’s cool and all but it’s mostly about you about me about us our connections our moments our memories and how other people share and relate. so i lie here with vayda gazing out the window thinking about how bright this life really is. how the most ear-piercing noise in this room is your breath moving in and out of your nose in the most peaceful utterly heartmelting way and how i know this moment is fleeting by as i waste time to type some my-mother-is-a-fishy brain vomit as mr. davis coined it, i suppose. but how could i not take just a couple of minutes to be silly and remember the nuances of such a seemingly insignificant moment in the neverending hours inside our familiar four walls? see everything is a circle to me and i look at this circular A monogram that hangs from our window and creates this beautiful monochromatic thing that i stare at as i wonder and doze and begin to dream, probably because it’s all black and white as they say dreams are but i swear i dream in colortechnicolor and everything is a circle. one big circle we all rotate on and our cycles of moods our cycles of habits social circles (need i go on with illustrations) and an astute observer can pick up on them all just by listening to stories and possessing the proper amount of empathy. and i hula hoop in my circle and i can move and work to make my circle bigger and hold maybe your circle inside my circle. i would do that for you, or at least move my circle to rotate at just the right axis that our circles often overlap or maybe we miraculously mirror each other in size and shape and maybe we warp the same way for a time or forever or orbit apart accidentally or excruciatingly but that is just life. if design govern in a thing so small, or could robert frost be right in proposing all those white things sitting there so perfectly kept for the ultimate plot? i didnt even have to google that because it’s one of my favorites other than the discerning eye by emily and everything by ee cummings of course i love writing like this because segueways aren’t necessary how freeing how nonsequitor i see why the teenagers aren’t using punctuation now.  see, i’d write more letters like i used to but mama always told me never to write something down unless you’re prepared for someone to keep it forever. so i end up doing this dance where sometimes i only keep it all in my mind and don’t even write in my journal but what’s the point of being so restrained? why not say something stupid on facebook or share a little meaningless selfie or create something i’m not totally sure i’d even qualify as art? why not? i guess in the end there is a great balance found in doing that dance. to find the great charm, the great interesting mystery in waltzing between vulnerability and restraint but then i guess when i listen to the hamilton soundtrack when v is playing i get really excited to share even this without reading it three times in a row and correcting typos or expounding upon sentences that may have incomplete thought. i will post it just the way it is and pretend i am the girl from awkward. on mtv i wish that show wasnt over because i watched every episode and vayda didnt wake up this whole time

OK, and i know for sure it is OK not being rude all caps but grammatically correct it is OK not o.k. or O.K. or okay or Okay, but OK i did read it over once and i didn’t take anything out but i really wanted to backspace the word comma slice since it isn’t a comma splice but i kept it there to enjoy the irony later on when i read this again when i’m bored or old or never

i need rules.

it’s easy to be really involved with a creative idea in the beginning. ultimately a road block appears where the project is avoided. it just isn’t fun anymore or it’s too complicated/time-consuming to complete at the moment.

the most disappointing part is, i rarely pick it back up. and if i do i wait forever to finish it. life has changed gears for a season, and my aim is producing more with my time. producing more of whatever it is in that moment for me. producing an intentional and finished product. one day, it’s a random craft with repurposed bottles. rearranging our den as a playroom for V. the next day, owning a task at work. organizing a junk drawer. designing a gallery wall. i’ve penned lists in my notebooks: projects at home to conquer, and project tracker with goals for work.

in order to be intentional about working through my grandiose list of possible design projects, i have defined some new personal guidelines…or something like that.

1. choose one project from the list only. enjoy thinking about the project in advance and divide the project into clear-cut steps.

take one of my latest piece for example (pictured). i wanted to do something a little different and fun with V’s birth announcements. don’t ask me why, but i had 12 different cards printed that i wanted to collage on a canvas with some sort of handpainted work included. i started by ordering the cards, obviously, and picked out canvases from my stockpile to use. then i took time to envision the piece and imagine the arrangement, colors and tools i would use. after planning out the timeline, i felt confident and excited about my upcoming craft.

Canvas with paper cards, acrylic paint and modge podge.
Canvas with paper cards, acrylic paint and modge podge.
Canvas with paper cards, acrylic paint and modge podge.
Canvas with paper cards, acrylic paint and modge podge.

2. house must be clean and all work-related tasks completed before i start to art.

my OCD mind will wander to what’s unfinished or undone, and then I’ll inevitably be juggling 15 chores with my designated project. making sure things are in the order before i step into my realm of peace with the piece.

3. communicate with the art.

quite possibly the lamest way to put it, but the most enjoyable part of any creation for me. it sounds nuts (and maybe it is). for years i have pondered God as an artist and how He must delight in the artform of nature, space and humanity across decades and dimensions. could you imagine…? i don’t [think i] have a god complex, but i appreciate the idea of imagining my blank canvas as a creation i’m breathing life into as i work.  so, i enjoy “getting weird” while i paint. fluid patterns and strokes that follow the imperfections of a specific tool. mixing colors to massage their best pigments and making sure they feel good on the canvas. that no stroke or pen mark feels completely awkward unless agreed upon between me and the brush. call me crazy, but those are my favorite pieces. they get the most of me in them.

4. let the stuff sit out.

the house is clean, so i intentionally leave my craft necessities out in a designated, but obvious, space until i finish the project. ‘not wanting to drag the supplies out’ can’t be the excuse not to finish. barring a visit from important company, i allow my supplies to get some fresh air mid-project. why not? my living room, my life. and who ever got much done without getting a little messy? (these questions aren’t rhetorical. i have to motivate myself that a little of art supplies gathered by the bookcase and gallery frames on the table are not the end of my clean house.)

 

so those are my new four rules for myself, the ultimate procrastinator. this lazy artist with all ideas and not much product to show for it lately has been churning out some stuff recently.

the creative process ebbs and flows, of course –but i’m maturing my processes to get the most out of my creative time, at least until Baby V is stealing the paintbrushes out of my hand.

image(which she can totally get away with being this cute.)

 

nursery full of bows

i was scared vayda would be a boy even after several confirmations she would be all girl. that may be why i started creating a gender neutral nursery. but just like everything else i planned for the baby during my pregnancy, things changed.

when i first found out i was pregnant, i went to target. isn’t that thing to do? i’m pretty sure they puff some scent into the store’s air that make maternal hormones rage, because my cart mysteriously fills to the brim (with things i probably don’t need) during every visit. elephants were popular for baby room decor at target during my pregnancy, and we happen to love elephants at the andrews house since we cheer for the crimson tide. cue everything elephant. i incorporated a little “where the wild things are” inspiration, too, with greys, light blues, yellows and burnt oranges.

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you’ll see that pink has inevitably made it’s way all over the nursery to compliment my initial color choices, but i fall more in love with the wild array of hues as time moves on. it’s a mix and match of all the people and experiences of vayda’s life thus far. her crib and dresser are from the baby’s dream enchanted collection. it will convert to toddler then double bed for lifetime usability. we got our set from brooks furniture (great local baby section) and are ever so thankful to robert, who included some great extras as a gift to my parents, who got V the set.

**rabbit trail for full disclosure here: unfortunately, vayda does not use her crib often as she still sleeps in a co-sleeper beside our bed. with a little reflux early on, she is most comfortable in her fisher price rock-n-play sleeper (and mommy likes her close by, too). during the day, she is constantly held, napping in my arms or being worn. [this article shares many –but not all– sentiments i do about baby wearing and my philosophy on holding vayda as much as possible: natural childshe will be using her crib and room more for naps soon, but we have found vayda to be more even-tempered and secure in her surroundings with our current methods.**

i opted for style on a budget for the rest of the nursery. all the nursery art was hand painted by me, which was a fun way to help make the anticipation speed along as pregnancy days grew longer. the area rug came from IKEA at a bargain, changing cover from etsy (with back-ups from target), floor length window panels from target – then i filled in with decor from hobby lobby, etsy, our new baby! (my favorite baby store – currently) and sweet gifts we got from family and friends. this includes a sweet toddler-sized bear rocker that was justin’s when he was little:

justin's bear rocker now in V's room
justin’s bear rocker now in V’s room

several sweet, very pink bears are keeping the seat warm for vayda when she gets old enough to sit in it.

along with those pink bears are many BOWS! my mama used to have me in outfits with matching bows. a proud moment for my mom was when my art teacher told her i was the best dressed child at deerfield in grade school. i guess that bow obsession seeped right into my own veins. i had to get creative with ways to display the many bows and headbands that mommy has gotten addicted to buying. seriously, people – it’s a problem. i never thought i would be one of those mamas who creates a bow child. but here’s the real situation:

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might as well face it, we’re addicted to bows. and i have totally embraced being that kind of mama. i got the cylindrical headband holder from etsy. many shops make these and there are many tutorials on how to make your own. it is so convenient when hurrying to dress an infant. plus, there is extra storage inside the cylinder – much needed at this house. the blue bow holder is handmade by me (along with the canvases). i also got two hanging ribbons at livi & company for our ever-growing alligator clip bows.

some of my favorite bow/headband/crown vendors: bloomies handmade (flower crown, pictured on V, lower left), tulip + olive, fancy free finery, gigi and max, cora baby wraps and mary madison boutique in thomasville (where i got these and more awesome bow clip-ons:)

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just wanted to share a little piece of erinish mama life. happy friday, all.

fingerpainting

here is a mural i fingerpainted on my bedroom wall growing up. i’m so grateful that my parents supported my creativity and allowed me to paint all over their home. this piece really means a lot to me because i painted it over the course of several years. it doesn’t have a lot of intrinsic meaning, really, but each fragment of the piece came from some song lyric i enjoyed or a memory i enjoyed musing over. then my friends started adding to it with notes and drawings, and i never even had the opportunity to feel alone or unloved when i had my friends’ colorful stuff on my wall and my parents down the hall. it really means a lot to have a family who supports the arts. thanks, mom and dad.

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RAWR!

so, as i mentioned previously, i was at a panthers game when i was inspired to write about things to do in this lovely city of albany.

i got a little bit discouraged when i saw the empty seats around the civic center. justin, my boyfriend and a native of dothan, turned and said to me, “it’s so great that albany has something like this.” and it made me think. he’s so right. not all cities have an arena football team, and what fun it is to cheer on my city’s team! even though i haven’t the slightest clue about arena football rules. fun music is playing nonstop throughout the game while i sit amongst thousands of my closest friends.

then i noticed all of the kids that were spending their saturday night at the game. some of them were in the stands, some of them were cheerleaders and many of them were playing in the rockin’ panthers band. there are many other ways i could imagine spending a saturday night as a teenager, and i think it’s cool that albany’s teenagers get excited to be a part of something in which albany can be proud.

the alabama hammers ran us up and down the field, and even clueless joe over here was entertained by such an intense dramatic show. so, i want to spread the word. i don’t know if people haven’t heard about the panthers, or maybe they are unsure if the experience is worth the money or the trip. i’m here to say, this is yet another point of pride in this good life city. a championship winning arena football team is worth coming out to see, even if you are like me and don’t avidly follow football.

it’s worth it just to go watch all the hams around the stadium dancing to the intermittent musical breaks throughout the game. just don’t judge me for my sprinkler moves.

what to do?

i was contemplating a new theme to write about on the blog recently. my boyfriend is nearly perfect, so it’s hard to come up with relationship topics. i don’t feel cultured enough to discuss food or wine. no kids. hmm. i was sitting at the panthers game pretending to understand the rules of arena football as i continued to contemplate this. and there is was. right before me. sports writing.

just kidding. i thought about how i have lived in albany all of my life, and i really pride myself in being involved and knowing what’s going on in albany. at least in the crowd i hang out with. most days i like to imagine myself as the carrie bradshaw of albany. getting invited to the coolest things and wearing the most happening things. but let’s be honest, i’m just a small town girl who wears ridiculous colors and stuff. but i do love albany.

so, i have decided to include some things to do in albany, georgia on my site. in my completely biased and totally unprofessional way.

turquoise & green

 

as i have previously mentioned, i worked in a ceramics studio through college. i got the opportunity to learn how to throw some simple things, and i hand painted them too. they are totally flawed, as far as balance–but that’s what makes them so fun and memorable. i will never be a potter, but learning the art and the difficulty of the trade made me appreciate the art that did come so easily to me.

i wrote a blog about the impact my pottery instructor had on my life. check it out here:
http://erinwhatley.com/2012/04/10/like-a-bull-in-a-china-shop/

brown ceramic bowls

as i have previously mentioned, i worked in a ceramics studio through college. i got the opportunity to learn how to throw some simple things, and i hand painted them too. they are totally flawed, as far as balance–but that’s what makes them so fun and memorable. i will never be a potter, but learning the art and the difficulty of the trade made me appreciate the art that did come so easily to me.

i wrote a blog about the impact my pottery instructor had on my life. check it out here:
http://erinwhatley.com/2012/04/10/like-a-bull-in-a-china-shop/