A New List

100 things that make me more than an act

1. I am Mormon
2. I have gotten all dolled up in the middle of the night just to take a picture of myself
3. I have been so happy that I thought my chest would collapse
4. I have been the same amount of sad
5. I have fallen head over heels for a tiny orange kitten named Henry
6. I saved a dog's life, and she saved mine.
7. I have burst into tears in the middle of a massage
8. I have had a phone conversation that has lasted more than 8 hours
9. I have smoked an entire pack of cigarettes in the course of one night
10. I have successfully quit smoking cold turkey
11. I have been moved to tears by a piece of music
12. I have survived an abusive relationship
13. I have been so unhappy with myself that I have shaved off all my hair
14. I've managed to interrupt myself in the middle of a sentence
15. I've searched for God in all the wrong places
16. I have repeatedly trusted the wrong people
17. I have been loved and adored in spite of my shortcomings to the point where it disarmed me completely
18. I have had moments in which I thought I would die, and moments in which I think I did
19. I have been incredibly naive and realized that it is okay sometimes
20. I have thought I was in love with my high school teacher
21. I have ridden on the back of a motorcycle
22. I have been the lead in a crappy play
23. I have slept in my car
24. I have hated my parents and I am pretty sure they have hated me back
25. I have now come to love and appreciate my family
26. I've sung karaoke
27. I've physically harmed myself because I was incapable of any other emotional outlet at the time
28. I have pierced my own ears, nose and lip on different occasions
29. I buy cards before I have people to give them to
30. I often see someone else when I look in the mirror
31. I have made best friends with a girl with down's syndrome
32. I have felt unbearably lonely
33. I've found amazing things in thrift stores
34. I've sobbed during a broadway production of Rent
35. I jump in as many rain puddles as I possibly can
36. I have seen my bank balance hit $4.10
37. I have taped down my boobs
38. I have vowed to do one nice thing every day for someone else
39. I've designed my own tattoo
40. I am kind of obsessed with loving people
41. I have accepted that I am pretty good at art
42. I have been the person that people call for comfort (not advice)
43. I've dyed my hair pink
44. I've written so many letters because I am afraid to verbalize my emotions
45. I have been called "sunshine"
46. I have slept in a silly set of bear ears (and gained the nickname sugarbear) because I was afraid of earwigs
47. I have participated in embarrassing girl's camp rituals (see above)
48. I have read all 7 harry Potter books in the space of two weeks
49. I have been in an awful car accident and realized how very lucky I am
50. I have been whistled at while walking down the street
51. I've laid in the grass to watch the clouds pass
52. I have met very few people that i truly cannot stand
53. I have made a list already of what I want to name my children when I have them
54. I have had eye surgery twice in my life
55. I've discovered that my eyes turn turquoise when i cry and steely gray-green when i'm angry
56. I'm hardly ever angry anymore
57. I've watched an entire season of Gilmore Girls in one day
58. I was once asked for directions on the streets of manhattan twice in one day
59. I gave both people wrong directions
60. I have overmedicated to shut out life
61. I've laughed at wildly inappropriate moments
62. I've hugged complete strangers
63. I've danced in the rain
64. I've jumped out of a second story window
65. I know many people's darkest secrets
66. I am clumsy
67. Little things make me happy (licking stamps, dying my hair, the smell of brown rice cooking)
68. I pick up hitch hikers
69. watching the news gives me nightmares
70. I can almost always feel when it is about to rain.
71. My goal in life is to make other people happy
72. I crave affection. All the time.
73. Usually from people who are unable, uncomfortable, or unwilling to give it
74. I have countless bad habits, most of which I am working on, and some of which I have learned to embrace
75. I have slept most every night of my life with a security blanket
76. I have gone for days on end without feeling hungry
77. I drop my cell phone on the ground pretty much every time I get out of the car
78. I constantly second guess myself
79. I am an organ donor
80. I once bought an entire pound of pear flavored jelly-bellies and ate them all in one day
81. I have had recurring nightmares/dreams for as long as I can remember
82. I have actually fallen on the floor laughing
83. I have been called a little duck
84. I have named a pair of my shoes (Beatrice and Edgar)
85. I have forgotten many birthdays
86. I have rocked a crying baby to sleep
87. I often wonder what it feels like to be a woman not emotionally underdeveloped or broken
88. I have wanted to "be an artist when i grow up" from the time I could hold a crayon. I still do not know what that means
89. I draw portraits of people in the meantime
90. I've sewn myself a blanket
91. I've burned myself with a curling iron. on my leg
92. I've talked someone out of committing suicide
93. I've been talked out of committing suicide
94. I am codependent and needy most of the time
95. I have declared my undying love for multiple people
96. I snort when I laugh
97. I have stepped in cow crap
98. I have used shopping as catharsis
99. I have learned to crack cheesy smiles at people when I am frustrated to get people to smile at me
100. I am almost always hot.

art journaling

living

Yesterday I had a near death experience.

How dramatic does that sound? Pretty dramatic? Good. I was driving, almost at the church, which was where I was headed, when someone turned left, running a red light right in front of me. It is just hitting me now how lucky I was. Right before I went through that light something told me, almost audibly, "slow down." And I did. Normally I ignore those annoying little whispers telling myself I am just being silly, or I am overreacting, but yesterday I listened. I slowed down to 25 mph and when I saw the car in my path, I slammed on my brakes and barely missed them. If I had ignored that voice, and continued at my previous, legal speed of 45, I would have plowed into the side of that rather sizable SUV.

I could have died. I probably would have, if not for that little voice that told me to "slow down." Looking back, I have had a lot of close calls. I was once locked in the trunk of a car on a ninety-eight degree day in late May, and I lived. I remember realizing that I had stopped sweating. I felt cooler, and I remember thinking that if I could just go to sleep, I would feel much better, but there was that voice that told me "No Kendra, you need to stay awake, just hold on a little longer." I believe that if I had fallen asleep in the trunk of that car, I could easily have died, but I am still alive. Yesterday I could have died, but I am still alive.

I believe God knows me, I have always believed it. I believe he could have let me die yesterday, or any other day, but instead He whispered in my ear, warning me, protecting me. What's news to me (and I can't believe it never occurred to me before) is that I have a purpose. There is a reason I am still here. I am not just drudging along, alone on this rock all haphazard-like; God wants me here. Right now, in this small moment in my tiny little life, I am supposed to be here.

Part of me is not sure how to feel about this. Part of me is so exhausted with living, (the part of me that wishes for anything from going to bed and not waking up, to a fiery car crash) the part of me that thinks dying would be easier. The rest of me is in awe. For years I've asked myself questions like "Why was I saved?" "What is the reason?" "Why do I even matter?" "Why doesn't God just let me die?"

I've realized that perhaps I have been asking the wrong questions all along. I realize now that if there is a creator, and if He has a plan, and if my being alive is part of that plan, then I have a responsibility. I am supposed to accomplish something. Maybe the questions I should be asking myself are, "Who am I supposed to help?" "Whose life am I supposed to touch?" "What good can I do?"

I am supposed to be alive, I know that now, but I think more important than that, I am supposed to live.

perspective

This blog post is going to be brutally honest. Today I was awful to someone.

When I was being abused physically, I developed this hard-won ability to turn off my senses. Nothing could touch me, nothing could hurt me. I suppose that's a metaphor. I hurt, I always hurt. I made my way through the halls of my high school gingerly, skirting around people rather than pushing through the crowds to avoid unnecessary contact that would further irritate my constantly injured skin. But I could take anything that was dished at me physically, because I used the pain as fuel to do what I needed to do to stay alive. The pain was good. If I used the physical pain I was dealt to dull the emotional pain, it was like I was untouchable. Bruises didn't ache, burns and cuts didn't sting, and the mad rush of five hundred teenagers didn't phase me. When someone was hurting me on purpose, I could deal.

Now I have a dear friend who would never, ever want to hurt me. But without the intense physical pain to make the pain of emotions, of feeling feel insignificant, it's like everything hurts. Words that mean nothing harmful make me cry. Being misunderstood makes me cry. Misunderstanding makes me cry. This pain, the pain of my heart beating in my chest is sometimes so much to bear that I don't know what to do. I've never cried so hard as when this person doesn't mean to hurt me.

And so, today, in a rage, I told this friend that I could better understand him if he would just hit me. I told him that I wished he would, that then at least I would know what to feel. I told him, in essence that I would prefer abuse I could understand to him.

I have never felt more ungrateful in my life than when I said those words.

This friend means the world to me. He is understanding, patient, unwavering, a person I don't at all deserve and today I treated him like crap, and his friendship like it was worthless. All of this is to say that I am trying. I am trying so hard to act like a normal person that can have normal relationships with people, and I fail. But I am lucky. I have people who love me no matter how badly I screw up. I have friends that insist I deserve better than what I wish for myself in the heat of an angry moment. I have faith in a gospel that teaches that the worst blunders I could possibly make can be wiped clean. And are. Today I really screwed up and I am SO grateful for the opportunity I have to learn from my mistakes.

Today

Fall is my favorite for many reasons. Not least among them: I adore the feeling of crunching leaves beneath my feet. Adore. I don't know what it is, but it comforts my obsessive compulsive bits. Crunch one under my left, have to crunch one under my right. Only it's not a HAVE to, like counting syllables or having one bite of each food left on my plate at the end, it's more like a game. Can I make the crunching feel evenly distributed between my feet? Probably not, but at least I feel tall, and powerful, as if I'm a giant crunching building after building (with no people in them of course).

Another thing I love, not completely unrelated, is the sound I make when walking on a driveway of small gravel. Not the giant rocks of a new driveway, but the small worn down pebbles of an old country road. so worn down that some of them are almost as small as the grains of dirt. If there's no one around me but Lovely, and the only thing I can hear is perhaps a breeze and the crunch crunch of the gravel, then I am so comforted. It makes me feel small and cocooned. I am safe and surrounded by happy things.

So today, when I walked Lovely and walked up the gravel driveway covered in leaves, I was in heaven. Perfectly balanced between feeling big and powerful and feeling small and safe. Perfectly balanced between the feel of the leaves and the sound of the pebbles beneath my feet. Perfectly balanced in my steps and my breathing and my emotions. For maybe just two minutes, when I walk that path, I feel like I know what it feels like to be normal, and balanced.

I hope you don't think I'm too strange for this elaborate description of such a very small thing in my day. But have i told you about that fortune cookie I got that told me "You find beauty in ordinary things. Never lose this ability."? It keeps me sane. And happy.

Writing my story before I know the ending quite often feels rather counter-intuitive. I don't know what the story is supposed to look like, how it will end and if I am doing the right things to get myself there. Or if, indeed, there is a "there."

But I think I must have a beautiful story ahead of me, because the most amazing things grow out of the ugliest places.

My proudest moment

i FINALLY got the pictures from my camera to my computer after at least a dozen different attempts. don't ask me which method worked because i have no idea at this point. The picture i want to share with you tonight is of the best piece of artwork i have done to date. it took a grand total of about 84 hours, was 22"x28" and cost my friend a neat $880 (not including the custom frame). he says it was worth it though. here it is hanging in my very first art show.





i have only one thing to say about the process: plaid is flipping hard to draw.

Today I am glad to be alive

This morning, my dog jumped on my bladder to let me know she was ready to get up. Ouch. The sun was warm today, and the wind slamming against my face as I drove over the mountain was crisp and cold, that almost painful chill. Today I accidentally sliced two fingers with a rotary cutter while making a quilt. Today an almost-stranger pointed out that when I'm not indulging in my "annoying" childlike habit of coloring to help me pay attention, my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is "obvious." Hurts.

And I love it. The pain is what lets me know that I'm still alive. It's good. I am lucky to feel the wind on my face, and the stinging of a paper-thin cut, and the pain in my chest when someone points out my flaws. I am lucky to be alive. Thank God.

She'll Be A Morning Shadow

As I am starting this entry, it is 11:11 pm on October the 22nd. When I finish it (more than likely) it will be October 23rd. October the 23rd, 2010. In 49 minutes it will have been one year since I was raped in a grocery store bathroom by someone I knew.

My life took a sharp swerve that night. In some ways, the girl I was that day, and the girl I am today are not so different. Our faces are the same, our core beliefs, our hidden talents are shared, but she had something that I can no longer afford, and that is the luxury of denial.

This one incident brought up more painful memories than I can share in good conscience here and now. I haven't taken a picture of myself once this year. Making art is painful now. There are some days when I can't bring myself to get out of bed. The nightmares kill me. Last night, I didn't sleep at all. I tossed and turned all night, my mind filled with visions of violence, black and white, and slow, with mouths moving, trying to yell, scream, cry, argue, but no sound coming out. Like an old silent movie.

I often wonder if people notice that because of this, I walk around in a fog. Sometimes I feel like they must be able to see that my nightmares walk beside me, but no one says anything. In fact, the people closest to me have noticed a steady change in me from that night, and not for the poorer. It's hard for me to see sometimes how relatively normal I am when I feel such a wreck, but as a line from one of my favorite songs goes "you've come far, and though you're far from the end, you don't mind where you are, cuz you know where you've been."

Today I stand as a woman who has taken only the first few steps in a lifelong journey, but I go forward with the knowledge that, although there may be no real end to this story, there is something better to look forward to. I also press on with the knowledge that I no longer have to walk alone.

When I can't breathe I go outside, lie on the ground, and let the trees envelop me like a cocoon. Like swaddling a baby, I am enclosed, I feel secure, and the trees breathe air back into my empty lungs. Sometimes I think that Heavenly Father put trees on the earth just so I could get through this. He is wrapping that swaddling blanket around me, drawing me into his arms, and rocking me until I am calm.

*****************************************
Where, when my aching grows, Where when I languish,
Where, in my need to know, Where can I run?
Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?
Who, who can understand? He, only one.

He answers privately, Reaches my reaching
In my Gethsemane, Savior and friend.
Gentle the peace he finds for my beseeching.
Constant He is and kind, love without end.

I am extraordinarily lucky

Today I met my Girl Scout leader from when I was like ten. It was weird...and Happymaking. I remember being a brownie, and what's better, SHE remembers me being a brownie. How many little girls has she taken to Savannah? How many girls has she pinned little rainbow pins on, or had to help with mundane projects or stood outside with on chilly spring Saturdays selling Girl Scout Cookies? And she remembers me. I was a silly little girl scout then, and today, I donated a box of lemonade cookies to Walter Reed.

Also today, I drove with the windows down and my music blasting. I know it's a little sacreligious to blast Ray Lamontagne, since he is so chill and deserves to be listened to in quiet meaningful moments with headphones in, but all the same, I blasted Mr. Ray with the windows down and the sun shining on my skin, and it made me smile.

1. bathroom accessories in green and yellow and blue to match a splatter painting done by a nine year old (when he was 8.) a toothbrush holder, a soap dispenser, a trashcan, a shower curtain, and a "cotton container" (which actually ends up being filled with bobby pins and ponytail holders and barrettes)
2. clothes that have not been worn in months coming out of the dryer smelling like Happy and Clean.
3. spring is coming



Would it be bragging to call myself richly blessed?

i think i am going crazy. but someone who actually is going crazy, thinks they're getting saner, right?