projects. lists. holidays. reminisces. ramblings.

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I’ve been plugging away at quite a few projects lately…C has been passing me work left and right for anything from wine shops to cleaning businesses in California. The work is time-consuming, but I’m loving it and getting in a few new projects for my portfolio. It’s win-win.

I just put together a list of everything I have to finish before the end of the semester…holy…crap. It’s not pretty. I just want to put life on pause, jump in my car and drive to, like…Alaska. Sit there for a few days and turn back around.

Aside from school, I’ve put in 2x my usual hours at work this past week. I thought I’d be able to make it back to my parents’ for the holiday, but false alarm! I’ve got to stick around F/M with my client, so I’ll be with her for Easter. I asked what she’d like to do on Sunday, and the first thing she said was, “NOT go to CHURCH!” Well…looks like we’ll be dying eggs and sleeping all afternoon…which doesn’t feel like Easter.

This will be my second Easter away from my family. The first time I missed spending it with family was in 2009, I won’t forget, I was in Ireland. I woke up on Easter morning in Belfast — there had been partying in the streets below my hostel all night. I jumped in a small, black cab with several other women, a few from Australia and South Africa, for a tour of the city. We saw what ruins the streets were in, and how badly Northern Irelands’ world had been torn by conflict between the Catholic and Protestant neighborhoods. When we returned to our bus to continue on to Dublin, the two Australian women had secretly placed a chocolate egg on each of our seats.

Later that evening in Dublin, I celebrated my arrival with the freshest Guinness beer and live music. The streets with throbbing with people! I had never spent a holiday as such, with so many strangers in such a foreign setting. I could not compare it to anything, and I couldn’t believe my fortune.

For more Ireland photos and writings, go here, my old European blog stomping grounds.
Sorry more Euro-rambling, but I dream of faraway places every day…
xx
j

when life gives you hands…

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I am in love with this tote from Not Made In China! Handmade lettering and a good mission: 

“Not Made In China fervently boycotts outsourcing and foreign manufacturers. Well, kinda. It’s more of a return to the handmade and DIY (design it yourself). And if you’re strapped for cash, looking for a unique gift or on a mission to make a smaller carbon footprint (because those tiny coal shoes didn’t work), then this is for you.”

Best of all, it’s only $12! Gotta get me one. Check out their shop!

barn. animals. barnyard animals.

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Tonight I got to take one of my clients to her therapeutic horseback riding session on a farm 15 miles outside of Moorhead. It was really neat!
This is Kelly, the farm dog I met in the stable while my client was riding. The best thing about Kelly was when he sat down and wagged his tail, he’d sweep away all the dirt around him!

That’s all for tonight. I need to have a SUPER successful day tomorrow to get back on track. Big big time.

busting it out (again)

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I TOOK ANOTHER STEP TODAY: I broke out my SLR and started photographing again. It’s been sitting on a shelf in my closet since August. I’d see it every day and think about taking it out, but it seemed too much of a hassle for some reason. I finally charged the battery and cleared a memory card, then took it with me for coffee this afternoon.



 

 I just…love photography, so, so much. I can’t believe I let this go. I should never let this go.

four photos + four short stories

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Street, outside the Sheldonian Theatre, Oxford, England. Just a few days into the trip, I’d began to dig into the cobblestone, bespoken charm of my new surroundings. Everything felt so old, so surreal, so different and concurrently, so beautiful. A friend took this photograph as the sun was setting on a popular street — one I’d walk down many times, in and out of bookstores and coffee shops, the same street which I’d buy my first map of London. I loved England.
Film garage, San Francisco. After a month in the city, I hadn’t made too many connections. One night after work, a co-worker invited me out to a film. The show was put on in an old garage filled with film reels stacked floor to ceiling, wall to wall. A small space cleared away held several rows of chairs and the film was projected on a wall. We all sank into the hodgepodge of theatre seats, our convenience store snacks cradled in our laps. We looked at one another and laughed during the funny scenes, though no scene was really all too funny; it was just a funny experience, and we were all in enjoyment.
After the film we spoke a few words before making our way to eat the most glorious burritos at a small taqueria nearby. The ceiling was draped with hundreds of flags in green, white, yellow, red and blue and we sat at a wooden table absorbing each bite. It was the first time I’d found such company, and the onset of the rest of my summer.
Dad, Rice Lake. It is a rare occasion to see Dad sitting on the couch at the lake. Any time I visit he’s building something, or fixing something, grilling something, trimming, clipping, or mowing something. When we first moved in the lake place, my siblings and I sometimes wondered how we were to entertain ourselves without a watercraft (or at least one with a motor). Dad’s answer to this was always, “You can sit on the dock, or dig dandelions.” It’s been the ongoing joke for years, even though Dad’s since bought a jet-ski or two. 
This is an image of how I always want to remember my Dad: Relaxing. Wearing his silly hat. Belly out. Probably in the midst of saying something slightly witty. At his cabin. (It’s just too bad you can’t see the sandals and socks…)
Bedroom, Minot, N.D. I’d just returned from Europe and was immensely sad about the end of my journey. At the time I was faced with finding a job, paying off the debt brought on by my trip, searching for a new place to live, and getting back into the groove of life while living with my parents. This particular Sunday I’d just returned from church with my family, and wanted to crawl back in bed to avoid the looming responsibilities. I’d realize by the end of the summer that the first few weeks of my return were actually the easiest, and that the days would only grow longer.
I landed a full-time job as a cashier in the hospital cafeteria, where I went about each day rising at 4 a.m., putting on my checkered blouse, apron and hairnet, and serving food to the patients, staff, and visitors that strolled through for a meal. Aside from the workers, many of the people I helped had no desire to be at the hospital; they were there because a loved one was unwell. Some days felt I had to walk on eggshells to keep the day in line. I’ll never forget eating the same lunch every afternoon on the skywalk over Burdick, and looking down at the cars driving under me. After work I’d run for miles in the park, and think about the days ahead of and behind me. It was a strangely poignant summer, but the years after would prove that everything happened for a reason…

good + bad = goodbad

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THE LAST 24 HOURS have been genuinely draining. I suppose the weekend in general was bittersweet — there were many realizations and frustrations. 
My good friend Benjamin was in town from Minneapolis and we had a really brief but lovely time. We had lunch at my favorite Drunken Noodle in downtown Fargo and did a bit of gallivanting about town, including a stop at a comic book store! (It was like a whole different world!)

Ben is very talented young man, and during his visit he informed me that he was selected as the student speaker for his upcoming college graduation from MCAD! I am thrilled for him and wishing I could make it to the ceremony (his speech is going to be quite hilarious).

The frustrating part of the weekend comes with work. I really wish I could find the motivation within me to create, and earn a profitable income from creating — so much that I wouldn’t have to work any other job(s). That would be my dream, to just create and have flexibility with life. I feel that I have the ability to do so, it’s only a matter of the funk I’ve been in for a while that’s been keeping me from getting started…

I know that I just need to start. (Please pardon me if this is turning into a pep talk.) The other night I was sitting at home working on a paper, and the thought crossed my mind, “I should go to the gym.” I have this thought a lot — probably two or three times a day, every day — but for the last year, I’ve never acted on it. So I set my laptop down, got up from my chair and I went to the gym. It blew my mind. It felt so good. I felt so good! The whole time I’d wanted to exercise, the whole time I’d known that exercising would feel incredible, and yet I never pursued it; I’m a stubborn creature. It makes me wonder about the other things that consistently cross my mind, the things that I think of but never act on (the things I’m PASSIVE about, to put it bluntly. I dislike the word ‘passive’ so I avoid it…) and there are many of them.

Okay, enough, done. But seriously, if you’ve never been a comic book store, GO! Great people watching. Good conversation. A nerd’s oasis.