the times are a changin'

I have an amazing job at Spreenkler Creative. I love my what I do and I love the people that I work with. It's a small company, so I don't get lost in any corporate bull spit, and they treat me so well. It's really great…but there's a problem: it's in Milwaukee, and my heart is in Madison.

I graduate in about two weeks (December 16th). Consequently, I'm in the midst of studying for exams (or should be) and working on final projects. I picked up my cap and gown last week. So strange. At the same time, I'm searching the internet for Madison area rentals and Graphic Design jobs…

The thought of leaving a job that I love so much jolts my heart and pains my stomach. The thought of staying away from Madison for another season feels the same way. So I'm torn. And I can't sleep. Not even prescription sleep aids can coax my mind to rest. This morning I threw up my breakfast.

The funny thing is that I don't feel outwardly stressed or worried. I'm functioning normally--minus the whole throwing up my breakfast thing. But the drastic changes in my sleeping an eating patterns lead me to think that there is some serious stress lurking beneath the surface of my immediate thoughts.

So what am I so worried about? Sure, I'm not really looking forward to paying rent again. We've been living with my parents for the last 2 and a half years for only about $200 a month. That's nothing compared to the average cost of rentals in Madison. But I'm also aware that Ben & I will most likely be making more money than we do now too. So, rent probably won't be so bad.

What really worries me is the possibility that I won't find a job that's as wonderful and fulfilling as my job at Spreenkler. To be honest, I think that most marketing firms are full of crap. I don't want to work for a company that makes dull, useless products look amazing just so that they can earn a few bucks. That feels dishonest to me. I don't want to lie. Also, I don't like consumerism, and I don't like fooling people into buying things they don't need. It's all a ruse, just an illusion; smoke and mirrors. I don't want to create illusions.

My values do not line up with those of the corporate mindset. I care more about being honest, genuine, and caring than I do about being fast, efficient and productive. Don't get me wrong, it's good to be fast, efficient and productive, but I think that honesty, genuinity, and caring are more important, and unfortunately get lost in the corporate shuffle. And no, advertising yourself as being honest, genuine, and caring is not the same thing. I would rather see a client as an individual human being with valuable thoughts and feelings rather than as a customer.

Spreenkler is a small creative agency who has actual relationships with their clients, most of whom have amazing products or services that help the community. When I work for Spreenkler, I'm working with clients who are working towards things like project based education and clean water. After supporting such important things through my work, how can I turn around and work for a company who tricks people into buying a lousy product? I can't. I don't want any part in that. I want to help people, not give them a quick fix. I want to use the power that I have as a graphic design and photographer to give worthy companies/people/movements the face that they need in order to get people to take notice of them. I want people help get people involved.

Involved in the community, in the arts, in music, and in each other's lives!

I don't want to get lost in the corporate shuffle. But most businesses have already been lost to it. So what am I to do? I have to trust that God will go before me in this. I suspect that he already has. Trusting has been hard lately. And that has more to do with my insecurities that it does with any reality. But that's a different entry for a different day.

If you would like to pray for me, you could pray for peace. That's it, I think. Something inside of me says that God's already got a job for me, but you can still pray for that if you want to. I'm just anxious. I need some peace, and the ability to slow down and let my mind rest.

Because I don't think that I'm going to sleep tonight, which would make three nights in a row.

A thorn in my side

Wow. Ballet is really hard. When I began this journey of dance, I knew that it would be difficult, but it seems that I was a bit over confident. I imagined that I would pick up the steps quickly and that the glory of my natural grace would exude from my every movement, the only major challenge being to get my body into shape.

WRONG: I am the worst dancer in my class. My movements are stiff, my form is blocky, my balance is terrible, and remembering a routine is about as easy as it would be to train Clementine to use the toilet. At times (usually during class when I'm a few steps behind everyone else) I think that it's hopeless and that it would be better for everyone if I just quit. But then I remember how badly I want to learn how to dance, and I know that I could never quit. I don't have any delusions, nor any desire, to be one of the best dancers that Wisconsin has ever seen. I realize that I will only ever be mediocre at best, but I don't care. Dance is one of the colored threads used to create the tapestry that is my soul: of this I am certain. I need to dance because it's a part of who I am. It's okay if I'm not very good. I'm doing this for me, not for fame or recognition.

As frustrating as this reality is, I smile when I think about it. I have a unique personality that includes an extensive and rapid aptitude for learning: in other words, I pick things up easily and quickly. When faced with something new to learn, I usually understand new concepts almost instantly and, after a short time of practice, can apply these concepts excellently. In a way, I'm kind of spoiled by my unusual ability to adapt quickly to new skill sets, and I'm not used to not picking up on something right away. So the fact that I'm a terrible ballerina sort of amuses me. At times, It's got me acting like a spoiled child who can't get her way, tantrums and all, and that's kind of funny.

Ballet is forcing me to work through frustration and to learn something the hard way; to learn without the free pass that often comes with my increased understanding. I'm learning how to be patient with myself which is extremely difficult for a (former) perfectionist. I've never had to be patient with myself in this way before. It's a lesson that I need to learn, and I'm beginning to understand why I felt like taking ballet lessons is an important step towards growth in this current season of spiritual and emotional growth.

Learning patience through art. Naturally.

Kitties

I love them!

A Critique

Hannah & Caleb Zlomke. They are just so photogenic.

I'd like to make time to practice manipulating lighting in photography. For now, a self-critique (critiquing my work is one of the best ways for me to learn). For this photo I'm playing with my reflector. It's not perfect, but I still like it. If I were to do it over again, I would reflect the sunlight from a slightly higher position in order to get a bit of a shadow beneath Hannah's chin. It's all a bit too bright as is. Also, I'm not sold on the color treatment.

What do you think?

Ideas vs. Feelings

Today in Psychology class I took the Meyers Briggs personality test. I've taken this test many times before. In high school I was an INFJ. Now I'm an ENFJ. Every time I've taken it I've teetered in between Introverted and Extroverted. It was no surprise to me to get the same results today: ENFJ. There was one thing that caught my attention, however, a question that I never fully considered until now: do you prefer ideas over feelings?

I've never really given this question much thought. I didn't fully understood it for one thing, but beyond that, there was a small part of me that thought that preferring ideas over feelings would make me less Christ-like, somehow. I didn't realize that this was what I was thinking until I really analyzed my thoughts & feelings about the subject today. To me, being Christ-like means to be loving, and a truly loving person would care more about feelings than about ideas…right? Because love is a feeling…? And ideas aren't. So, if you prefer ideas over feelings, then in a way you must being preferring ideas over love, which means that you can't love people very well. So I never wanted to admit that I might prefer ideas over feelings, but after thinking about it, I realize that I really do prefer ideas over feelings. And actually, that doesn't make me less Christ-like at all.

If you place me in a scenario where I have the option to have a conversation with a close friend about feelings (could be hers or mine) OR about an idea (could be as simple as what color you think someone would be if there were a color, or as complex as the Enneagram personality types and how they might relate to each other when applied to fictional characters), I will always choose to talk about the idea. I don't really have an explanation as to why I prefer ideas over feelings, so I'm simply going to say that it's just a personality thing. Don't get me wrong: I don't dislike feelings, nor do I dislike hearing about how my friends are feeling. I care deeply about these things, but given the choice, I'll choose ideas.

This discovery, though it may seem small, is actually quite large for me. I realize that I have weird ideas sometimes about how someone should act if they're a Christ follower. In this case, I denied a specific personality trait that I possess because I thought it was bad or wrong. The result was that I was trying to force myself to act one way while trying to supress my desire to act another way. The truth is that it's not bad at all to possess this trait: in fact, God's the one who put it there in the first place. SO, this discovery has helped me take another step or two towards being okay with being me. More of the pressure that I tend to put on myself has been lifted.

I feel more free and at peace with myself and with God. It's just good to understand how you function. Yeah. I like ideas.

A simple entry

Lately the long-lost introvert inside of me has awoken from her slumber and has called me away to quiet secret places. I don't feel like broadcasting my internal process to the world. Not really. Instead I'd like to hold my process close to my heart. I imagine that it looks something like a small moon, glowing warmly beneath my fingers. I don't want to share it—not yet. Just know that I'm in a very good safe place. I'm not always comfortable, but that's just a part of growing.

I will, however, give you insight into some of the things that I will be giving my time and heart to for the next 6 months or so:

1. Myself
2. Ballet with Hannah
3. School (more time, less heart)

As always, I also desire more of God. I hope and pray for the grace and desperate desire for extended times of prayer. I admit that I'm a bit afraid that I won't be able to do it, but I'm choosing to disagree with discouragement tied to legalism, and instead choosing to agree with my deepest desire to just see God's face; to touch his hands, and to know his heart. It's what I desire above all other things.

"Hush now, and look at me"

How many times has the good spirit brought me here? How many more times will it take before I finally stay?

Again and again. More and more. Closer and closer. Set my heart ablaze. Help this small flowering tree deepen its roots and grow a little taller, but know that a little is never enough. And so the ache pursues me, and I welcome its pursuits.

Time to be alone for a while. Alone, but never alone, resting in the arms of the one I love most.

Little Albus

I have always wanted to see a wild hummingbird up close. Last week, I got to hold one in my hands.

Ben & I found a tiny, stunned hummingbird lying on the garage floor the other day. It looked like he had gotten trapped in the garage, then nearly knocked himself out by trying to fly thru the glass window pane. I put a pair of garden gloves on, but he was so small that I was afraid to pick him up for fear of crushing him. So we slid the little guy onto a piece of paper and carried him to the safety of our garden where he could recover beneath my bleeding heart bush.

I, of course, took pictures. He held very still for the pictures. I think he thought I was going to eat him.

Heavy shoes

I have to admit: I'm sick of this charade—wearing shoes that don't quite fit. They were never meant to be mine in the first place, yet I try and I try to make them the right size. Instead, the empty spaces between skin and suede amplify the squelch of these awkward attempts to move forward. My, my; don't these shoes feel heavy.

Where is joy? Where is weightlessness? Where is freedom? Where is hope?

Discouraged by the weight of what the world expects, I bear the burden of these doleful soles; this wanton destiny. How unnecessary.

My heart pulls me towards lost loves: music, dance, drama, art, writing. How I wish to find my way back.

"Come to me—just come to me."

Naughty Jokes

Gotta love naughty jokes with great friends. :-)