Dec. 19, 2009 - "What's worth the price is always worth the fight."
Someone should write a book of prompts for blogposts. I literally sat here for five minutes without rational musings or logical bits of brilliance leaping to my fingers. *wild laughter* I've read way too many blogs with dull openings; the first sentence should create an impression that represents the post as a whole. But enough of this blah. Due to the disgracefully un-recent date to the last ramble on here, I have decided to once again haunt the cyber public. *shoves on nerdy glasses and gives her Reader a toothpaste commercial smile with sparkles and a blast of classical music*
The past two weeks have been a whirl of activity; the Jack Tale Players have had multiple performances which all require rehearsals and lengthy trips in a very old van. The director has also been running several performances of his Christmas play and I was one of the volunteers he had serving in the 'dinner' section of the dinner theatre. I've never tried my hand at waitressing, so it was a bit WOOOOOoooh at first but I warmed up to dashing back and forth with coffee and iced tea pitchers. Both Camirryn and Dadsy were waiters at one time, so I got some pointers in that regard. December has also brought me a singularly thrilling/terrifying experience: movie audition. *watches the Reader fall over dead* Paramount is remaking 'True Grit', an old John Wayne western, and they were having an open casting call for the state I live in. I prayed about it and my parents and I eventually came to the same conclusion that hey, I might as well. So Dadsy drove me up to the theatre they were holding the audition at and we stood in line for, I kid you not, three hours. Two cups of coffee were consumed in those three hours spent hopping around to ward off the cutting winds, not to mention an actual alley stretching out from our slow-moving meander to the glass double doors and a ton of normal girls who could honestly care less whether they made a professional impression (which they didn't to us, the ever-innocent bystanders). They had me fill out a form, rant at a casting director about who I was and why they should consider me (the rant lasting for a grand total of thirty seconds), and then we struck off on the long, snowy road back home. Drive for three hours, stand in line for three hours, talk for thirty seconds, drive for three hours. It was an eventful day. But I had a blast, despite unexplainable breathlessness and shaky legs as we walked out of the theatre, my eyes still scorched from the casting director's stony glare. *grins* I'm glad I was able to try out; I can technically claim to have auditioned for the lead role in a Hollywood movie.
I was asked by Momsie last week about the topic of a persuasion paper that would address one of the cultural issues I found lacking in justice. Years of observation has shown me an extremely troubling truth, one of those nasty little details that modern culture strives to cover with weak arguments which, shockingly enough, had been embraced by the crushing majority. Call me dramatic but this is one of those things which lurks behind prejudice! I'm speaking of the immediate assumption people make that homeschoolers are stupid. Count yourself fortunate if you've never had this blatantcy tossed in your face. I once heard these obstacle aptly described as a cross to be borne. One doesn't think about preconceived notions against the value of home educating when they think of persecution, but think about it: Johnny is educated outside of the government-financed school systems, he's not accepting the generous educational standards offered by the public school systems, thereby obviously not getting the correct or sufficient education he requires/deserves/shouldhavehad, so Johnny is stupid. Nice logic, huh? Not. I'm not out to flame public school systems, only state my opinion because I believe it should be addressed. If I were to write a persuasion paper, this would probably be the topic because no good argument can thrive without passionate belief in your viewpoint. Personally, I think that unless circumstances are such that the parents cannot educate their own child, communication between family members and the standard of education would be higher if Johnny was taught by his own parents, learning their world views and building his own based on the biblical values so savagely discarded from mainstream education. We lose ourselves to the constant stream of what beneficial citizens should behave like and discover that home educating is generally discouraged. Because of course, Johnny would learn better in a big classroom surrounded by detached peers, taught by an impartial teacher with an 'approved' curriculum (approved by whom, I might add? Is it possible that these teachers and the writers of their textbooks have world views which might conflict with the world view Johnny's parents wish to install within his heart and mind?), drenched in the cultural norm day after day instead of staying home and developing good character and a strong relationship with his family. I've noticed that when a homeschooler makes some sort of mistake, blame automatically falls on his parents for having raised him in such a fashion, or on the fact that he was homeschooled. And then when a public schooled or culturally accepted person messes something up, people are quick to make excuses because he was shoved into the ever-encompassing Flow. I thought the world owes us nothing. Apparently conformity is owed much! Why is it that those who set their gaze on heaven, rather than earth, are the ones to whom nothing is owed? Homeschoolers aren't robots without emotions, that the norm may slap a label bearing 'STOOPID' on and then throw away for useless. This rant shall now be ended. On a fringe note for this segment, I'd love to hear your opinion on this. The Hideaway has been very silent lately; what are your thoughts? Is there such a thing as an ideal mind, a cerebral level that a 'beneficial citizen' might chase after? If so, is it reached by public school systems, personal soul-searching, homeschooling or something else? Feel free to bash anything I've said. Opposition builds determination, does it not?
Our plans to go Christmas shopping were dramatically altered when it began snowing early this afternoon...and never stopped. The flakes are coming down in lashing sheets! In the almost-four years we've lived in this house, we've never had so much fluffy, milky, beautiful snow! The Girls and I were thrilled, running from one window to another and squeaking with delight at how much the drifts had grown since our last window-check. Falling snow is insanely inspiring. Which is a good thing, because my writing has recently dragged me through a laundry wringer, then chained me to a persnickety computer and shoved a leaky pen into my weary fingers. Exaggeration? I think not. I get into these weird moods where I doubt I'm even qualified to call myself a writer, and begin begging God to either blast me away with mad inspiration or distract me so I will quit worrying. I seriously can't imagine NOT writing, seeing as how when I don't write much of anything for a single day (*gasp*), I get all scared that maybe the words will one day just dry up and my fingers will curl idly around the handle of my cup brimming with tepid tea. Lately my writing has really suffered, whether from lack of time/inspiration, or from sheer exhaustion in trying to glean words from a scene where nothing.is.happening. This book is...a tad slow. So I threw in a rather violent curve of plot, which seemed to help. I am back on track and happily banging away the hours, loosely following my outline (*frowns at the wild laughter from her Reader and ahems*) towards a twelve-year-skip-ahead. My satisfaction is fragile when it comes to this particular book; it's given me way too much trouble sofar for me to say I'm now on safe ground.
This wraps up my month-spanning summary. I could bore you with piddling details, such as the fact that I now own an actual black cloak (*pleased smirk*) that I'm soon going to freak Wal-Mart employees out with, or the fact that I've already done a year's schoolwork, or the pros and cons of being iced in for a couple days so that we find it necessary to walk down our very long driveway to the mailbox (pro being the beautiful scenery and a nice sister-sister talk with Katsy, con being there was no mail on account of the crazy amount of snow we got this afternoon)...but what is imagination for? I hope your own life is going as colorfully.
Merry CHRISTmas!
Dec. 14, 2009 - HAPPY BIRTHDAY EMMA!!!
Happy Birthday to you, my oldest friend!! You can claim seniority over all my other friends, since you could say we were friends before we were born. ;) I love you SO much!!! I hope you have a WONDERFUL day, and I cannot wait to get together so that we can celebrate both our birthdays properly! ;) Sweet 16!! Now we both have to start acting grown up, I guess. (Not like you weren't already. You're very mature.)
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! *throws confetti, dances around, but specifically refrains from singing the birthday song*
------
Copyright 2009 by Cherise A. You must ask me before using any of my stuff, and my name must appear along with the poem or post if you reproduce it.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009 - Taste the Atmosphere
Just for fun!
Taste the Atmosphere
The sky revolves around the earth as I lie on gossamer turf
Just sipping the clouds. They taste like my dreams and a sunflower gleam.
With a sparrow-splash here and there, all blended as I smile and stare.
Spectacular is everywhere.
If you would open your mouth and your eyes
To taste the indigo sky
You'd fall overboard with your daydreams on the rise.
So top-heavy because they go to your head.
Your veins will rush with sunset flush instead.
And you'd never go back to bed.
Sometimes the sky gets tangled in the branches as they dare to tease
The wind who always wins. And the stars get stuck in a leafy hug.
Some of the dust brushes off. It floats down and makes me cough.
But it tastes like burning lemon drops.
If you would open your mouth and your eyes
To taste the indigo sky
You'd fall overboard with your daydreams on the rise.
So top-heavy because they go to your head.
Your veins will rush with sunset flush instead.
And you'd never go back to bed.
When you've tasted the atmosphere everything else begins to smear into something sublime.
A glorious water slide.
Just let yourself glide.
If you would open your mouth and your eyes
To taste the indigo sky
You'd fall overboard with your daydreams on the rise.
So top-heavy because they go to your head.
Your veins will rush with sunset flush instead.
And you'd never go back to bed.
Copyright © GraceElizabeth
Dec. 7, 2009 - um.(:
i quit.
there honestly isnt any reason to stay here and i dont like being paranoid about this blog falling into the wrong hands of 'certain people'.
i sent out a message to all my favorite people on hsb : kassilou, beccathegreat, problems4therebel, missmaddy, janedoe, ect. you know who you are. if you got that message with the link to my new blog in it, erase it. im done on there too. i think it may just be a break from HSB, or it could be a quit. im thinking its a quit. im just over it. over homeschoolblogger. some of the people on here can be really annoying, plus i never get any comments, and when i say something 'not christian' everyone flips out. so, hah, i quit. if you want to keep in contact with me email me at liveitloveitbringit@gmail.com . make sure you state in the subject box who you are, or ill just erase it.
have a good day.(:
Wednesday, November 25, 2009 - Overcome
A storm of voices breaks
with iron chill
Upon moss-serene stones of the cliffside.
Ripping out the humble grasses that once flashed in the wind's cleansing breath.
Grasping sand-treasures that are so precious to a child,
Artifacts of beauty...
And flinging them through a wall of spray, of noise...
To strange and clouded waters unpenetrated by rapture's sun.
Shouting, roaring, wounding, wrenching.
Noise pounds out its varnished fury
Pounds out the silence.
The violent mist and echos climb, full of wrath,
Up weathered cliffside and cliffside
and cliffside.
Until they reach the ears of one who kneels
On sandpaper stones, to peer below.
An eager man, with strength untapped
Flowing from ardent lips.
The echos of confusion rile his hair.
Mutterings of greater pain draw down his brow.
But indigo sky infuses his veins.
The graceful, forceful sunbeam power of Truth among lies.
The strength of loveliness among accepted fears.
He whispers.
And the rasping gray echos fade.
He speaks.
And silence pours down the cliffside and cliffside
and cliffside.
Weighing down wordless clamour, pressing, possessing, caressing.
Until the sand is clear again, for little feet to laugh in.
And yellow waves of grass will grow again, like maidens' hair.
Copyright © GraceElizabeth
Tuesday, November 10, 2009 - Do you dream of escape?
Last week I was very alive.
You just read that short sentence and raised your eyebrows at me, because you're thinking, 'Grace, you are pretty much always alive. I hope.' Well, I hope so too. ;-) But I believe that you will understand what I mean when I draw your attention to some of those times of your life when you felt so bursting with happiness that you were... more alive than ever. If you can't recall any, I pity you. Because life is made up of times like that. Moments. Days. Most recently for me, it was last week. I was tremendously blessed to be able to attend a Communicators For Christ (CFC) conference in Corpus Christi. The motto for the organization is; ‘shaping culture through authentic communication'. Generally, people equate public speaking with communicating. But although public speaking is an important part of communicating for Christ, the biggest part is simply how you interact with the people around you. And even those of you who aren’t big about the whole ‘command the platform’ can't tell me that you don't interact with people. Not even homeschoolers are that unsocialized. =D So read on a little further, as I try to relate a little of what I've learned this week.
I competed in the National Christian Forensics and Communications Association (NCFCA) last year. And I had gone to a CFC conference before. And I was never a shy person. It's actually pretty funny to listen to all the accounts my friends give of how their mom made them go to the conference, or whatever. Because my parents didn't tell me I had to go. I told my parents they had to send me. =D Anyway, nothing I learned at this conference was new to me. Anyone could have asked me about it, and I would have agreed. But not until last week were these truths really cemented in my heart. The theme for this year's tour conference is 'Lead the Escape'. It’s not talking about escaping from your problems or from the world- on the contrary. This is an escape from artificial to authentic communication. And an escape from Self. The goal is to throw aside everything that would hinder you from sharing the Truth of the gospel, and equip yourself to go into the world in order to change it. And isn't that all our lives are about?
I'd like to briefly share four things with you that specifically stuck out to me while I was at the conference. I've put them into a handy little bullet list for you. (I love those things!)
- Value the relationship above the argument. Those of us who don't have problems with shyness often struggle with forcing our beliefs on others. We've got to remember that only God can change the human heart, and we are only his instruments through which He channels the Truth. Once we plant the seeds, our job is now to tend the ground gently and pray for the rain. And after all, if you are willing to lay the argument aside in order to keep your friendship with someone, you will have another chance. Once you sever ties with a person, you can never go back. There's a quote I heard this week by Phillip Yancey. It says, 'No one ever became a Christian because they lost the argument.'
- Being a competent cultural communicator means being willing to risk yourself. That scares me, so I know it probably scares you too. But life is so not about us. If we are willing to risk looking 'weird' or being in awkward situations sometimes, or simply willing to give other people the time of day when we're busy, we will be able to reach farther into people's lives. We've got to be engaging and real and joyful and trustworthy. Then people will connect with us, and we can touch their lives through Christ. We can't wait on the sidelines for the world to come to us. We must go to them.
- For those of you who compete in speech and debate, let's remember that competition is only a way to hone our skills. Our goal is never to win rounds, but to win people. How many people do you think you're going to win by speaking to a bunch of homeschool parents? Sure, there may be a few 'community judges', but most likely they are Christians as well. Unless we're taking the skills we learn out into the community, all our moving rhetoric is for nothing. I know we've heard this before, but NCFCA is a game. A means, and not an end. Let's actually use what we've learned by impacting people who need us.
In final (I promise, this is the final) conclusion, I wrote a poem:
Dream of an Escape
If this was all a dream,
Spun from silver moon reflections on the water,
And fanned by firefly wings.
Or tossed from wave to wave, in tempests worthy...
Then when I wake up, I will laugh with the sky,
And everything will be more real, and more right.
I'll grasp for the pillow and sing for pure joy,
Because this dream has changed my life.
Sometimes our dreams are more real than our lives,
When we are not willing to live them for Christ.
And sometimes our dreams are our way of escape
When we are too frightened to risk for His sake.
But sometimes life seems like a dream
And everything exudes a golden gleam.
And I know that it's real, more real than I am.
Though it's bound to my heart with a velvet band.
And I realize that, escaping this way,
I'm delving in, not fleeing away.
The care isn't that I should save myself,
But help to lead the escape from Self.
For Christians may all sit and babble away,
And be very smart and have things to say,
But what have we done for the kingdom of Christ
Unless we go into the world and speak Life?
There is no higher calling, and no greater care
Than to reach out to others and simply be there.
If we can love in a world full of hate,
We are called to Lead the Escape.
{For more information about the Communicators for Christ nation-wide tour, visit http://www.instituteforculturalcommunicators.org. or http://www.theiccblog.com/ }
Copyright © GraceElizabeth
Oct. 24, 2009 - One Has to Wonder...
First sentences are always the worst. You sit and stare down at the happy little keyboard grinning up at you; you crack your knuckles and then instantly regret it; your head spins because there is so much seething around inside of you, trying to get out and prove something to all those people who innocently stumbled upon your bit of cyber-territory...and then horror swells up and conquers every other reeling emotion because you have come to a very dangerous conclusion: you have absolutely no idea how to start your post out. This is very often the case with me. I know what I want to say, I can't wait to say it, and then I traipse off disappointed because the first sentence simply refused me. Tragic, no? Heh. In my opinion, people should start their blogposts backwards and work their way to the beginning. Think Alice-In-Wonderland-Format; someone should copyright that and put it to good use.
It's sad how many people bypass God's fulfillment in the process of chasing after their ridiculous ideals. If we are so dead-set on reaching our own man-made goals, why do we strut around claiming to be a vessel for God's perfect plan? We can't see His urgings through the murk of our own standards! We make plans, we ignore open doors because we are still trying to tug some other door open by ourselves, we put all our effort into what we want to focus on rather than what God is whispering for us to do, to think, to become. We fail to reach our insane goals and then beat ourlseves up because arrogance snarls into our ears, "You just aren't good enough. What a terrible person you are! Stop trying, it's no use." Then we pay attention to the Spirit of God, the quiet presence that has been there all along, and we come to realize who we are and who we can become through God's mighty hand. Arrogance and despair literally run screaming. In their place surges joy, purpose, self-worth; life suddenly snaps into a fresh perspective. This is sort of what has been going on with me during this long, sad elusivity. The only way to become filled with God is to empty yourself of yourself. Sound easy? A divine smack-down is perhaps the hardest thing we can go through because as piddling little humans, we are forever straying from God's will to find a reality outside of His absolute truths. We want to rule our own existence, be the lord of our own lives. Big mistake, peoples. Base nature takes you down a shadowed path and danger lurks at every bend. Don't keep convincing yourself that you'll be alright, that a little sin is okay, that God's grace is sufficient for any rotten thing you might do in the meanwhile. "Oh, He'll forgive me because He's so good and anyway, I'm not that bad of a person. *nervous laughter* Right, guys?" [insert chirping crickets] In my personal experience, this is too often the little game we play with ourselves. Pretty sad, huh?
Now, dear Reader leans back in their chair and peer skeptically at the computer screen, wondering why this strange person always charges into her bit of cyberspace like this, ranting and railing about this that 'n the other. Wanna know why? I cannot contain it. If God has given you something to say, SAY IT. Don't hide your light just because you fear sounding like an idiot or making a fool of yourself. Yes, random person, I am talking to YOU.
*contented sigh* Now that I have that said, here's what's been happenin'.
Our internet upstairs has been turned off, and I must admit to feeling very...unshackled. I was throwing the wrong impressions of myself out to total strangers, putting too much of my energy into the wrong things. Now that I have stepped back to see what I'd been missing this past year, everything I'd let slip and all those convictions that had gotten weaker instead of stronger, I am thankful for the experience, hard a lesson as it was to learn. I feel more capable of facing other things, having that difficult time under my belt. Not continually being on the internet has allowed me to spend more time with my precious family, throw myself into my beloved writing with a new fervor, consider options for new dreams that I would never have thought about otherwise. I am sitting cross-legged in Momsie's big stuffed rocking chair, typing on her laptop and feeling a giggling autumn breeze tickle the back of my neck from the open window. 'Glad' is playing and we're having cold pizza for lunch. Life is good, no?
The week before last, we were blessed with the crazy opportunity of going on a weeklong vacation to Orlando, Florida. Dadsy had a business trip with the company he worked with, and financial resources were such that we were able to get five day tickets to all the Disney theme parks. Bewildered at the mere size and bravely facing the horrendous waiting lines and 90-degree weather, Momsie and the Girls and I bashed around every inch of every park [exlcuding Animal Kingdom, since we have a zoo somewhere nearby our own house] and had the time of our lives. Thankfully, we had a master plan copied from a guide to the parks we had purchased several weeks in advance, and were able to avoid most of the crushing crowds and general lost-ness. Being natural tourists and favoring wild laughter on the rollercoasters as opposed to terrified shrieking, we did almost everything there was to do. Dadsy got a half-day ticket on Friday, the last day we were there, and we ended our vacation with a kick, roaming around Magic Kingdom at night while the fireworks popped over our heads, feasting on crazy-big roasted turkey legs and slushies [!!!], unable to contain our smiles. I even had coffee MWAHAHAHA okay sorry. It was so much fun! Momsie took a ton of pictures, almost 300 if I'm not mistaken. On Saturday, however, we were spent and decided to brave the long road from Orlando to our tiny-town 11 hours away, on the same day. Stopping at a gas station in Georgia, we were startled to find the temps dropped down into the 40s! Talk about shock! It was freezing when we finally got home at 2:15 in the morning and we all developed sore throats and coughs. I don't care; it was worth it. This past week, we waded through school despite our maladies, and actually did very well all things considered. I was informed that I am now one-fourth of the way through my entire school year. The weather in our absence had tossed all our surrounding woods into a fair miasma of autumnal colors and the temps have remained around a comfy 70s.
Several noteworthy events have occured since my most recent, rather sad post. If you find any of this a repeat, rest assured that this coverage is much more positive than the information found in its predecessor.
For starters, I was admitted into a traveling theatre troup at the local college called the Jack Tale Players. We act out the folk tales of the Appalachians, most of the scripts written by our director who also happens to be a Ph.D. in theatre, and we perform them at schools, churches, libraries and folk festivals. Sofar we've had two performances that went very well. The work is rewarding because I love performing, and the Girls like hearing me rattle about the rehearsals. I recently got somewhat of a stunning piece of news; the director wants me to play the main character, Jack. *squeak* Jack has a lot of lines. *another squeak* I dearly hope my role won't be switched with someone else at the last moment, but nevertheless, Momsie said that the practice of memorization is never wasted. I have been plunking away at the lines all week and confidence has only now descended. Even if something happens and I can't play Jack, it was glorious fun grappling with the role at the time. I was basically given around three minutes during that rehearsal to learn the first part and though I fumbled quite a bit, the part is delicious to wrap one's mind around and I enjoyed myself greatly.
The library has an annual speech class and guess who's joining it. Yours truly, facing the 'firing squad of audience eyeballs'. The two classes I have sofar attended have gone well, much better than last year, and I was even asked to be the big cheese for the most recent one. They called me ''Madam Toastmaster.' Toastmaster's Speechcraft...I wonder how in the world they came up with that title. What does toast have to do with public speaking? Something to think about.
It's hard to explain this next bit because it envelops so much of my thought. You might recall me speaking about my novelinprogress, 'Wizard', from the recent posts. Well, dear Reader, I finished my beloved novel yesterday. 130K in under four months, bigger than any other novel I've attempted sofar. It was so strange, typing the epilogue to the end, because that book has literally been my consumption ever since I started it back in July. I woke up thinking about it, I went to bed worrying over it, I dreamt about it and filled page after page of my notebooks with things I had to convey, phrases that sounded purty, mental images that whole chapters centered around. The material was probably the hardest and most bittersweet I've had to bang out ever since I began writing around five years ago. But I think finishing my precious novel gave me a sensation of quiet triumph. I allowed God to guide it and it became a defiance against other books in its genre, other darker temptations that have recently tried to pull my writing into an evil rut. I literally could not stop writing as I neared the end; I hurried through everything else so that I could go and write, and I would lock myself up in my bedroom for hours, completing sometimes over 6K in one afternoon. The victory of finishing it has given me joy, but my heart was physically aching when I finally packed Pussy Willow [my laptop] away. So much of my soul has gone into 'Wizard', and now that it's finished, it's like '...what now? ' It felt so strange, not having another chapter to mess with this morning. I don't regret writing a word of it, though. Everything held conviction and a manifestation of my own struggles during the time of the writing. I see now however that the title of the book is actually contradictory to several remarks my kids [characters] made in it. The title isn't wrong but it's not straightforward and immediately gives people the wrong impression of its content. I believe that, should my novel ever be published [*smirks*], it would have to bear another title despite my incredulity regarding it being called anything else.
The answer to my borderline remorseness over the lack of something to write will, hopefully, be amended by NaNoWriMo. Yup, I'm still going to seal my doom *coughs* uh, I mean attempt it. Considering I have been known to bang out 9K in a single day, NaNo should be small potatoes. As far as I know, the book for November is about a very dear character I have had almost ever since I began writing, Saffron [stop laughing at his name, I refuse to change it] and his history, from sometime around his preteen years up to present day. He was abused as a child, ran off into the inner city and joined a bloodthirsty gang that preyed upon the fading light of sidewalk ministries and street preachers, got fed up with his existence to the point of suicide and then experienced God in a very powerful way. The events preceeding his conversion draw a very thin parellel between the conversion of Paul; I think Saffron was a bystander to the violence of his gang towards some preacher or something. The basis of the novel is mainly about his gentle yearning for a delicate young woman and her protective father, the willingless Saffron has to improve his life in hopes of proving the depth of his love to the young woman, their tender courtship and eventual marriage after the woman's father gives his consent, and then the struggles the new couple face after their decision to start an outreach center for the 'scum of the asphalt' while being oppressed by the consequences of Saffron's life-changing decision to become the victim of those he used to encourage, the persecuted rather than the one doing the persecuting. The novel reaches through a ton of material and I am insanely excited to write it; Saffron, who appeared in several previous works of mine which have also undergone some changes, is a multi-layered character with a quiet strength about his faith. Since the novel covers so much time, I may find myself having to do that annoying thing we authors so often resort to: 'So'nSo Years Later'. Gah! Just when I have gotten used to describing almost every moment of every day! *grins* But the novel will be powerful, I hope, and I am eager to see where God leads me with it.
Good grief, this post is entirely too long. It should last you until I bombard you again. Go and have a laughing fit.
Thursday, October 22, 2009 - "...Happily they're ever after-ing..."
"I love the part in fairy tales that's very near the end... When all the people cheer for their new queen."
"And all is well, and all is good, and everyone belongs, and happily they're ever after-ing..."
"But when I enter the gate of my dreams, and face the promise of all I can be..."
"Will they see me as a heroine? Tell me, will they let me in?"
"Won't someone let me in?"
(For more pictures, go here: http://picasaweb.google.com/HisHighlandLass/HappilyTheyReEverAfterIng?feat=directlink)
Copyright © GraceElizabeth
Tuesday, October 13, 2009 - Forever (and ever)
“To achieve great things, two things are needed; a plan, and not quite enough time.” -Bernstein
Last week I had the privilege to be involved in a music video production directed by some of my friends. It's definitely very amazing. You may think I'm biased... so watch the video and form your own opinion. =) For more information on the producers and their other projects, visit http://www.imagivation.org.
Copyright © GraceElizabeth
Oct. 6, 2009 - You know the feeling you get when...
... you come back to your blog after abandoning it for a month and realize that nothing has changed?
It's a slightly depressing feeling, I must assure you.
Yes, I have been off traipsing the high, forbidding mountains of LiveJournal and FanFiction.net, and having a glorious time of it too. You really must go visit my LiveJournal. I've been posting several times a week there, and I post artwork too! Too much fun.
Fanfiction! I cannot believe how much it has been a part of my life for the past three months, and I am ashamed when I read over my recent entries how little I have posted about it! Short stories have been flowing out my ears! If you visit my fanfiction profile, you will see all that I have done. Except for the bottom two stories, everything that you see has been written since July. I encourage you to read and enjoy. Out of all of mine, (and I know this is myself speaking, so I can't adequately recommend my own stuff), but I would suggest you try Original Solutions, A Childlike Happiness, and if you're up for some serious depressingness/angst, More than a Man.
Aside from the fanfiction, I have also been working on a fairy-tale type story that is threatening to become a novel. It's called Evanescent Moonlight, and I've posted the first chapter of it here. Currently it's about 15,000 words long, and I'm working on trying to finish writing Chapter 9 and editing Chapter 2.
Also, I am getting ready for NaNoWriMo 2009!! I'm so excited!!
Well, I think that about wraps it up for now.
Besides, of course, my birthday, which was on Friday. I am now 16!!
I fare thee well!
*dances off grinning*
Copyright 2009 by Cherise A. You must ask me before using any of my stuff, and my name must appear along with the poem or post if you reproduce it.
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