Tag: inspire

Udal Cuain Best and Worst Storytelling Devices

I’ve been thinking, to be honest since I put the Udal Cuain project on a permanent hiatus in 2019, should I attempt to finish it or revise it in some way that would be less dark and depressing? It’s the truth, the story went off the rails into a very dark place that I no longer enjoyed working on. But could I potentially unweave the threads of plots that took the story in an unsatisfying direction? That is something I’d like to ponder. And hopefully, this project is not doomed by its subject material! I think this is applicable to all creative processes because as you make something there is that tightrope feeling that you are balancing between success and utter crap. At least that’s been my experience.

Well, I think the only way to sort through this is to look at the things I think the story should keep and what was an utter disaster. I’m going to give each storytelling technique a grade for a bit of structure. Let’s jump in!

Religion

Udal Cuain is set in the Early Medieval period aka the Viking Age aka the dark ages, which is not as well known as other historical periods. Especially when it comes to Irish history as it was known as Hibernia at the time to the Western world. The Romans were tired of dealing with the Celts and so they built Hadrian’s Wall and left them be. The only group to venture closer were Christian missionaries, including St Patrick, St Brendan, and St Brigid in the 5th century AD. As Udal Cuain was set in the west of Ireland in the 8th century AD, with most of Ireland converting to Christianity and leaving Druidism, the choice to include a druid-influenced calendar and have open belief in the Druid Irish gods was a wise decision. It feels like a plot hole to the historical evidence we do have available. For this reason, I give this religious storytelling choice an F for disregarding history.

I wasn’t as committed to my faith at the time of writing and so I was not interested in bringing Christianity into this world, although I chose the setting to be in the era of a well-established church for the sake of being in the Viking raiding age. That was a bit of a faff and something I would definitely change today if I was re-writing this story. I would either set the story back before the 5th century and nix the Viking Age plot in order to explore the Druid era for continuity’s sake or would remove the Druid part and have a more nuanced approach to these cultural legends in the framework of the 8th century where the High Kings were part of the church and monasteries were a key part of the societal structure. I would probably choose the second option because the Druid world is so incredibly dark and evil – not exaggerating, human sacrifice was prominent – so I would prefer to research something a bit more light-hearted.

Villains

A goal I had for this story was to make a cunning and diabolical villain out of Tearlag, I wanted her to be so good at being bad that the reader could almost respect her but also be waiting for her demise. When we meet her in the story she is a widow who exiled her son and grandkids by force out of her kingdom. She is hypercritical of her children and conniving in her marriages. Her husband Conn was beloved by all but Tearlag has a Machiavellian streak to her. I wanted her to be untrustworthy and truly good at executing evil plans against her enemies, including her family members. As the Dowager Chieftainness I wanted her to have a legacy that she couldn’t quite nail down, but she would use to exact every last drop from her allies.

Tearlag became one of my favorite characters to write, she had so much sass and pure nerve to accomplish what she wanted without giving a hoot what people thought. In the end, it made me sad to know she would have to be defeated. I would say for Tearlag’s character I would give her a B+ because she accomplished all I wanted her to, but now I think I could make her character even more polished. I would develop her character even more to see the layers of how she became this way and search to find if there is any good in her or if she was always born to the villain of her life.

My secondary villain was Tearlag’s son Riordan, who was a chaotic character and a bit of a brat. I didn’t want him to be likable, I wanted his character to wear his misguided decisions like a badge as the selfish person I created his character to be. His flaws drove the plot, and his mistakes bred characterization for other key players in the story. His depression for a lost love that should have never been, all while being married to another woman displayed his inability to handle responsibility that would inevitably inspire his exile. I would give Riordan’s character a solid A because his character did not waiver into plot holes, it was a disagreeable anchor to the story. I would let his story sit in the plot and flush out his failings a bit more so that his exile is more clear to the reader. I may consider if he is redeemable or if a story arc would add anything to his character.

Protagonist

I’m going to start off by being brutally honest that I don’t care for either of my protagonists anymore and would have to re-write them. Both Kinvara and Saoirse fall into the trope of “not like other girls” and I don’t like that. It was such a common storytelling trope at the time of writing that I didn’t see I was falling into it when actually I was trying to make them outsiders in their respective worlds. For this reason, I give them each the grade of D because they’re not hopeless characters but they need some revisions.

Kinvara was the opening protagonist of the book, she is shy yet observant and doesn’t like the current place she finds herself, as an exile on Searbh because of her parents’ loyalty to Riordan and his wife Saoirse. Kinvara is intelligent but a bit judgmental, and has great dislike for her sister Aoibheann as being a frivolous girl for chasing after boys, yet Kinvara effortlessly gets along with the boys, making her a bit of a pick me girl too. Not what I intended! My revisions for Kinvara would be to eliminate with tension with her and her sister, making Kinvara more likeable. I’d also like to make her a bit braver and more willing to seek after the connection to the faeries, in doing so going on her quest without a guy to help her. I’d love to see her face down with Tearlag in a David and Goliath kind of scenario, completely humbling Riordan in the process for fighting this battle for him.

Saoirse was just too dang whiny. Like, if Riordan made her life that miserable I’m not sure why I kept them together? Through the process of the handfastening marriage they had a year to figure out if they wanted to be married, Saoirse could have left after a year since Riordan never stopped his relationship with Caoimhe. I’d like to keep Saoirse’s inner struggle with managing her emotions and feelings of rejection. Her addiction I think brought a depth to her character as self-hatred was a demon she was wrestling with. A relatable thing. Her mentorship with Cheiftain Conn was a plot line I didn’t explore enough, as well as the friendship with Brigid. Saoirse fell into the trap of being defined by her relationship which was not the kind of female lead I intended to create. Defintely a lack of experience in character development on my part.

Faeries

I absolutely loved developing out the idea of faeries in the story based on Ireland’s legendary origin story of a mythical people who founded Ireland called the Tuatha de Danaan and the Formorians. It’s where the legend of the banshee, Finn McCool, and the Children of Lir come from. The imagination of Irish storytelling is incredible and I wanted to incorporate that possibility back into the land of Ireland itself through the character of the faeries who communicated with the sensitive in society – Kinvara and Chieftainn Conn.

This provided a space to dabble into fantasy with magical portals to another dimension and unexplainable powers that would be channeled through the land itself, particularly the sea. Sometimes it would be channeled through specific characters in the story like Caoimhe being endowed with the powers of the raven, essentially a morrigan or banshee. Kinvara could sense would the faeries wanted and could feel the lack of peace within the land itself for the evils being carried out by the Viking raids and Tearlag. For how much imagination and possibility this storyline gave to the story of Udal Cuain, truly a driving force for the adventures and conflicts that awaited the characters I would give it an A+ grade. This was the best part of the story and made it feel unique.

Combat

As a sensitive person I didn’t expect to enjoy writing fight scenes but it was a lot of fun to write moments of struggle and strategic movements. It was something that grew in scope as the story evolved to a point where the characters were sometimes even fighting the environment around them. This added a spooky element to the battle scenes as the enemy was not clear. Would it be a human opponent? A human opponent with a pull over nature itself because of their connection to the faeries? Would the enemy be almost supernatural in strength like the Raven? Or would they just be a dang good fighter? These were ingredients for the pacing and intrigue for the story as it was a battle of kingdoms and ideas. I would give the combat scenes a B for their solid plot movement, but I’m holding back from giving it an A because I could have created more dimension in the story if I had been willing to lean into these battles more and move the story forward instead of being wishy-washy on characters dying.

Final Thoughts

I recommend taking a look at your writing in this rating type of analysis because as I wrote this I felt such clarity on what I liked and didn’t like. I think if I had done this while I was still working on the project I may have been able to revise and carry on instead of getting overwhelmed and burn out from the stress of my day job. Thanks, dear reader, for going on this little retrospective journey with me.

#30 – Watercolor, My Old Friend

Over the weekend, I felt a sudden urge to paint again. I’d shunned my art supplies for two years, collecting dust on a shelf. Art was such a connection to my dad and is family, when that connection became strained my love to create with paper and paint became complex, a time of dark contemplation instead of creative freedom over what was and what could have been. As we drove home on Monday night, passing through a frantic rainstorm to the breath of fresh air that is sunshine, I was struck by how beautiful the summer sky is in the evening. The tall clouds of a thunderhead, whispering clouds on the other side, a pink and orange fantasy against purple and gray misty sky, all grounded by the rolling green hills below. It was a blast to soak in the sights of these big sky moments as we drove north back home on a interstate.

The next morning, in bright sunshine I decided to give it a go and try to capture what I saw that evening – this is what I came up with. It was a joy to create with this medium again after so many years without picking up a brush, but with a clearer head. I guess time really does heal everything. Do you like watercolor painting or sketching? Have you left a hobby for years only to realize it is something you really love?

Sunset After the Storm

Rain in a Fading Light

Clouds in a Misty Sky

Insomnia

Have you ever experienced one of those nights when no matter what you do you can’t drift off into the delightful slumber of a good night’s sleep?

I’ll go through bouts of bad sleep in the summer when the humidity sets in and the night is just a bit too stuffy. Those first weeks of summer when the warmth comes to rest overnight, and the fan radiating air from the window can’t seem to beat back the soupy air. Recently though, it was a bigger boss battle. The wandering of my mind to landscapes of worry.

Night Awakens My Creativity

I’ve always been a night owl. In the past, if I’ve been in the middle of a project at a job or heavy weighted exam in school it hovers in my mind when I am trying to sleep. It’s like I can’t allow myself to stop, rest, and recharge. I want to keep going. Keep creating until it’s perfectly done.

Sometimes my best ideas for garment construction or writing a scene in a fiction story come in those wee hours, trying to drift my mind off to sleep. And I’m not abnormal, this is pretty common, even glamorized as the artist’s life.

I don’t love the timing of these creative streaks, but I have over time learned the discipline of telling myself, that’s enough – it’s time to turn my mind off. That’s what it feels like, turning my mind off, like flipping an invisible switch to motivate my inner creative machine to close shop for the night.

But worry. Worrying, fear, anxiety, etc are the emotions I still have yet to best when they interrupt my sleep. With my mom having surgery this week, I’ve been best friends with insomnia. My mind has been restless, even combative towards peace and relaxation. I’ve been a tightened spring coil, resisting the welcoming aura of my bed in a false sense of control that if I worry about her surgery that I can somehow keep bad things from happening. Like I have any control over this thing!

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.

James 1:2-4 ESV

I remember in therapy for anxiety and panic attacks in college, the thing that was the most helpful but the most painful was my therapist telling me that I was not in control. Ouch. It made me feel so dumb and small, yet the conviction and freedom I felt were like a cool breeze on a hot sunny day. It’s the illusion of control that makes my mind tie up into knots. But the stark reminder, the tough love of being told, you can’t control these things that overwhelm you, well it takes the burden off of my shoulders.

His Way, Not Mine

I’ve been thinking about that a lot on these nights of tossing and turning in what-ifs.

These dominos of confusion that I mentioned in Spiraling in Silence are not there for naught. With the personal maturity and spiritual wisdom I have sought out in 2023, there has been a path of growth and progress. But with growing comes growing pains, and spiritual maturity comes testing. And although these back-to-back weeks have been annoying, they have been a reminder to keep growing.

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

Romans 8:28 ESV

With June marking the halfway point of the year, it can feel like a good place to stop, to rest. I mean, especially in the United States the beginning of June is the kickoff of vacation season. You’re supposed to “leave it all behind” and have some big, never-ending pool party/beach vacation/barbeque, that is at least what the commercials are selling. But with my faith, there is no vacation season, no coasting if I am seeking growth. Because God uses all things, the annoying bouts of insomnia or the big things – medical procedures that scare us – for good.

When we are worried or scared, because life is ripe with troubles ready to knock us down, it is encouraging to remember that these are opportunities to rely on God and all that He does for us. It is the time to rest in His plan and provision, for example, the provision to bring people into our lives at the exact moment we need them, that shower us with the love and support we crave when life makes us lonely.

Gratitude and Kit-Kats

One of the best ways I have found to get my head out of worry when I can’t sleep is to distract myself by counting my blessings. Even when life is going bad, I’m amazed at how many good things are going right in my life, that I simply forget about until I stop to think about it. Simply being alive, with a roof over my head and a meal to eat are huge things to not take for granted.

I have yet to beat the boss battle of my worry, and it still bests me most of the time, but I am learning how to change my perspective in those moments, and that sure feels like a step in the right direction. Getting rest and recharging in some way during those bouts of worry and lost sleep is more precious than I realize too. Everything seems 10x more complicated when you are fighting through insomnia

I caught myself last night being an absolute jerk, just because I was tired and cranky, and honestly scared to not be able to sleep again. But you know what helped pull me out – a piece of chocolate. That small little delight of chocolate, and watching something that made me laugh. It’s those little things which bring joy in the midst of meh, that remind me that I have so much to be grateful for and so much more purpose than wallowing in a bad mood of worry and bad sleep.

Thank you, dear reader, for spending time with me. I wish you restful, restorative sleep tonight. I sure hope I can do the same!

Spiraling in Silence

I like transparency and honesty, yet I have not been honest with myself this week. I have been a spiritual dark cloud with a disinterested heart towards reading my Bible and spending time each day with God. I have been running from Him, which has set me on a path of unrest and a posture that is lacking in self-care.

Neck Anxiety

Literally, my posture has been one of emotional unrest. My shoulders and neck are making me pay for it as I’ve let them get stuck in knots. Existing in the tension of my mind. The physical toll of anxious, spiraling thoughts is sometimes worse than the emotions. Because after it’s over, and my muscles relax I am left with the haunting sensation of sore, aching muscles that were unable to relax in the midst of my mind’s tumult.

This cloud of spiritual funk has left me in an anxious place worrying about things I’m not even sure I should be worrying about.

One man’s sermon should not be so destructive unless that is exactly what the enemy wants. I think I’ve been under attack for two weeks now, the anxiety I am holding in my neck certainly communicates a war in my mind.

Isn’t strange how we can be on top of the world one day and the next something knocks us down into despair. A melancholy that keeps us stagnant.

It reminds me of Elijah’s depression in 1 Kings 19.

Growth to Crisis

I’ve felt so on fire for God for months now. I’ve been stepping out in faith more, speaking out for the gospel, and ministering to my unbelieving friends with boldness. I have been tithing for the first time with consistency, and yet, even when we are doing all the right things tests come. Spiritual warfare comes. Confusion and chaos shake us like Elijah experienced after God defeated the prophets of Baal.

But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness and came and sat down under a broom tree. And he asked that he might die, saying, “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers.” And he lay down and slept under a broom tree. And behold, an angel touched him and said to him, “Arise and eat.” And he looked, and behold, there was at his head a cake baked on hot stones and a jar of water. And he ate and drank and lay down again. And the angel of the Lord came again a second time and touched him and said, “Arise and eat, for the journey is too great for you.” And he arose and ate and drank, and went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb, the mount of God.

1 Kings 19:4‭-‬8 ESV

I’ve felt the temptation to be stagnant, or worse to regress back to a place where I am seeking my own will instead of God’s will. I know deep down nothing good would come of that choice. No blessings, no peace, no fruit.

I’ve been silent. Not praying, or looking for any quiet moments with God. I have been shying away from my usual routine of listening to worship music throughout the week, refusing to be fed, like Elijah refused to eat or drink and wished to wither away.

Chaos & Confusion

Sometimes the church has some bad witnesses and presents parts of the Bible in ways that feel more like man’s way than God’s holy way. I’ve decided to abandon the sermon series I’ve been listening to and run from this convoluted presentation of what heaven will be like and the reward system that God has. It has done nothing but cause chaos in my heart, to make me fearful of God’s judgment instead of running to the Heavenly Father with open arms.

My husband has been very patient with me, listening to my worries and my questions. He has been defeating the lies the enemy is trying to trap me in about who God is. He has reminded me that even strong believers go through times of struggle, and these weird time times can produce growth.

It doesn’t mean I am a failure.

As I am writing this I see now that the biggest way this funk has impacted me is the sense of isolation and shame.

I have kept this anxiety from everyone, including my close friends. I have felt ashamed to admit I’m struggling and have put myself in a bubble. As the week progressed I became more and more stuck in my own head. Insomnia and bad dreams have taken residence in my head. I’ve felt run down and not like myself.

Unlikely Gift

I now wonder if the mysterious squirrel or bat that was in our chimney was literally a blessing because it drove me into the welcoming hugs of my friends’ next door. The evening of the mysterious noises should have been terrible, but instead, I think now about how loved I felt. I think God brings those opportunities about to show us how loved and cared for we are, even when we are going through Spiritual growing pains.

God provided for David when David was being chased and brought his complaints to God.

God fed Elijah and cared for him even though Elijah was wishing for death.

God is good. He is bigger than our problems. He can handle our darkness. He wants to be our source of strength and I lost sight of that. I’m thankful God never loses sight of what is important and never gives up.

If you are struggling dear reader, I hope this will encourage you to keep going. You’re not a failure if you are having a bad week or a bad month. Sometimes we go through waves of emotions that are difficult to process and we need to be patient with ourselves. You are not alone.

#29 – The Satisfaction of Mending and Alterations

I’ve found there is something serene about mending your own clothes. I find it almost a joy to launder the items and collect them in a pile for a day of slow, methodical stitches and problem solving. It makes the chaos of holes and rips into the calm of rejoined fabric and orderly hems. There is a satisfaction in fixing an item that was broken, making it as good as new. It reminds me that in life when the problems come, and there will be problems big and small, that it’s not over when trouble comes.

Like last night, when a scratching and rustling sound echoed from our chimney to the fireplace below. All I could picture was that scene in National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation when the squirrel terrorizes the living room, scurrying from table to chair, knocking things over and crawling on Clark.

Of course this happened after dark, naturally as it does, when the stores are closed and the exterminator or animal control would be closed. In a frenzy we grabbed a sheet of plywood from the wood shop and covered the hearth opening. I called my neighbor, who has become like framily (friend-family) to me. They shared advice from their own experience with critters in their house, wrapped me in a hug and calmed me down with some good laughs. When I came back home, although the bat or squirrel or whatever it is, may still be on the other side that plywood I felt okay.

Having caring and friends who love and support you is the mending thread of our lives when things get weird.

Seams and a New Gadget

Today’s mending agenda consisted of re-attaching a missed seam on a pair of underwear I bought from a big brand, the pieces of fabric were connected across the seat seam with a serger aka overlocking machine and it either ripped the fabric which dislodged it from the seam or the pieces did not get sewn together in the first place. I have a love-hate relationship with the practice of serging ends and seams. I know it saves time and uses less fabric to finish seams but dang, they tend to unravel like nothing else. So, is it really better? I’m not sure. But that’s my opinion.

I’m doing a repair on a tank that I made from a burnt orange knit fabric. I made an unwise decision to take it in at the armhole which made the fit around the bust odd. It’s pulling and the stitches are placing too much stress on the knit fabric, which I saw the aftermath of while unpicking the stitches that made the armhole smaller. There were some big rips! Now the underside of each armhole looks like it was chewed up. Which to honest made me feel a bit stressed out because I enjoy wearing this piece and I don’t have any more fabric to patch the whole with. Thankfully my new gadget made this process of closing each rip easier – the palm thimble!

As I mentioned before in #21 – Sewing When I Lost the Love For It I have developed tendinitis in the knuckle of my middle finger of my sewing hand. This is what drove me to stop hand sewing in general and get used to using my Heavy Duty Singer machine. But alas, there are still times when you need to sew by hand like when inserting a zipper, mending rips and holes in fabric, and button and buttonhole insertion. I ran into this problem whilst completing this vest for my father-in-law. Just a few hours of hand sewing these buttons and button holes, awaken my injury and my knuckle was not happy. It’s made hand sewing a bit tense for me because what if it keeps getting worse? I love doing this, I don’t want to stop making things or knitting.

But, I was browsing my Instagram feed a few days later and behold a creator I follow named Geri In Stitches was sporting an intriguing accessory – the Sashiko thimble by which she pushed the needles through the fabric with her palm instead of putting stress on her finger. I used mine today for mending and it was a completely difference experience! My finger is not in pain, the knuckle is not inflamed or swollen. It worked! I’m over the moon excited about it.

Taking in Garments

Along with mending today, I also took in three pairs of shorts that were just draped to the point of looking silly. It’s an interesting feeling when I have to take items in because there is that feeling of, dang, now I have to fix something that wasn’t even broken just for the right fit. And there is also a feeling of accomplishment because I have been getting healthier.

I’m tackling my inflammation from food allergy and stress, toning up through interval training sessions, and making healthier choices that is helping me slim down a bit. I went through a decade of gaining weight and not understanding why I couldn’t lose it. It was frustrating and discouraging to feel so out of control. If only I had the wisdom to see how much the mind and the body are connected. The food allergy was giving my body anxiety and inflammation, making it difficult to maintain let alone get in better shape. Mind was so foggy from the stress and emotions of that time period that I didn’t want to take care of myself because I thought – what is the point?

When I have the opportunity to do these alterations, it’s this little moment of progress without having to weigh myself on a scale which is my ultimate trigger into a unhealthy spiral, but also to feel this moment of this will be an easy sewing project today. The item is already completed, and well loved. It’s relaxing compared to garment construction when I can still screw things up.

Later on today, I have another round of alterations, replacing a waistband tie on a pair of shorts and adjusting the fit on another pair of shorts. And then it will be time to put my thimble away and leave process for the next time. But with each wear I will remember the time and love put into these clothes to keep them in good order. A well loved closet.

Do you mend your own clothes? Have you ever taken a garment to be altered or do you just make it work? Before learning to sew, I would just accept my fate if items broke or stopped fitting. It’s a freeing feeling to not be stuck in letting the clothes decide for you. I’d recommend giving it a try or finding someone who can help you with their own sewing skills. It truly makes a difference.

Current Travel Bucket List 2023

Daily writing prompt
What countries do you want to visit?
View all responses

Japan

This has been a slow burn since getting into Japanese fashion aesthetics, which ignited my fascination with styling and fashion design. Fruits magazine was the gateway to an intensifying desire to learn, experience, and appreciate Japan and its culture. From Japanese Ninja Warrior to Studio Ghibli to Akira Kurosawa, each has been a step deeper into an affection for a country I’ve never been to but feels so much like a place I could feel at home.

Since watching James May: Our Man in Japan and Ivan Orkin’s episode of Chef’s Table, I’m certain that I will go there someday, or else I will feel deep regret. The beauty of the land and the rich culture calls to me. My goal is to be fluent enough in Japanese by that point that I will be able to communicate in Japanese more than in English. I know it’s a lofty goal, but it would mean so much to me. After traveling to Rome and Paris, I realized how much I wish I studied Italian and French before arriving.

Specific places I would like to see would be each of the islands, Kyushu and Shikoku for sure, and spend time outside the big cities. I’d like to see Hokkaido blanketed in snow. Preferably this trip would be a slower one to explore without rushing through the islands, with time to experience an onsen, a ryokan stay, and a traditional kaiseki meal. Attending a Japanese baseball game would be high on my list too as well as staying in a rural village.

Argentina

This is a new addition to my travel list, thanks to the wonderful travel content of Samuel and Audrey, who have showcased Argentina’s beauty and food with such authenticity. Before finding their travel videos I knew little to nothing about Argentina, but the experience Audrey and her dad share through the vlogs and memories of living in the Cordoba region have piqued my interest! Lately, they’ve been sharing their experiences of visiting Estancias in rural Argentina near the Patagonia region. The scenery is breathtaking.

Australia

To be honest, I’ve wanted to visit Australia probably since I was a child. I grew up at the height of Steve Irwin’s Crocodile Hunter show. Steve and Terri Irwin’s work beyond crocodiles, educated me on the incredibly unique animals of Australia which in turn made me want to go to this one-of-a-kind place. As an adult, Melbourne’s unique food culture is a driving force behind a visit, as well as the Australia travel van life videos of Flying the Nest have expanded my interest in seeing all of Australia.

Kenya

This is a special one. Through Compassion International, I currently sponsor a child who lives in Kenya. Sponsorship means that I help his family with schooling costs and health insurance basically. It takes the financial pressure off of his family. With that being said, I would love to see his home country and experience his culture. He and his family are so dear to us and it would mean a lot to visit Kenya. I’d also love to explore Africa beyond just seeing Kenya. Top Gear UK has done two Africa specials, one in Botswana, and another one that explored Central Africa (Tanzania, Uganda, and Rwanda) which looked like an amazing trip.

Poland

Karolina Zebrowska put Poland on my radar and her love for Poland has been contagious. Poland itself is beautiful. The pictures and videos I have seen of Krakow look stunning. Growing up in Western Pennsylvania, the pierogi is a staple that I adore. The Polish delis around Pittsburgh are fantastic and I’d love to experience the authentic food of Poland. Another reason Poland is on this list is because of the people and their empathy, compassion, and generosity. The way in which they welcomed Ukrainian refugees into the country with love and open arms, taught me and challenged me to emulate this instead of being a complacent American. It’s about people, not politics.

Korea

K-Pop. That’s really the basis for my deep desire to visit Korea. Before K-pop entered my life, I knew very little about Korea except the cuisine was delicious. After being a K-Pop fan for 1.5 years, I’ve dived into other areas of Korean culture and I’m a fan. It looks like a stunning country with incredible food, people, hiking, and baseball. I’d like to see Seoul and browse the K-fashion boutiques and street food while exploring the city on foot like Seoul Walker. Busan and Jeju are on my list too, as well as attending a KBO game.

China

China might be the most fascinating country of them all. The vast amount of diversity in culture, geography, and cuisine, is overwhelmingly awesome. Xiran Jay Zhou and Mike Chen have educated me, as well as the many Anthony Bourdain episodes in China, that China would be a never-ending story to explore and that excites me. Now this is the one country on my list that I don’t think I’ll actually make it to. The China I want to experience and the China that currently exists are in conflict.

The government’s despicable actions towards Falun Gong, Christians, Hong Kong, Tibet, and the Uyghr genocide, to name a few. Not to mention their general lack of regard for their own people’s human rights and free speech is in tatters. So this will probably remain only a trip in my imagination. But, a girl can dream.

In my dream scenario, I’d like to soak up the architecture of both ancient and modern. The mountains of Zhangjiajie National Forest Park are breathtaking. The rainbow mountains of Zhangye and the Fujian Tulou circular homes look fascinating to explore, as well as the Terracotta Warriors in Xian. Pagodas, tea, noodles, bao, art, moon gates, etc. I’d like to see as many provinces as possible and go east and west, north and south to try to scratch the surface.

#27 – Scones

Each week I find myself, hands covered in dough. The way I used to be as a kid, except instead of baking bread or sweet roll dough, I make a little thing called a scone. Or “scon” depending on whether you hail from Northern Ireland. It’s a simple thing. A new part of my routine. That little moment of quiet time, as I cube the cold butter and measure the dry ingredients. It’s a ritual. Between my fingers, I delve deep into the bowl molding vegan butter, sugar, flour, and baking powder into a sandy mixture. A sandy mixture that feels like the sand on the beach, a little wet, pliable. The sand I still love to squish in my hands, in a drifting mindless void of experiencing the texture. A sensory delight.

In the rhythm, I cube the butter. Careful, long cuts with a sharp knife divide, and divide again until with swift chops little butter cubes line up on the counter. Flour cup after flour cup, building a powdery mountain in the bowl. A sprinkle of sugar, leavening, and salt. Blend, blend, blend, and watch Youtube. Let your mind drift away to far places. Watch the squirrels hop around the yard. Add water and raisins, and make a wet, sticky dough. With a spoon drop the scones one by one on the parchment. A warm oven, here they go.

My scones are a bit like biscuits, a little like shortcakes. A dash of raisins, the quick lift of soda bread. They are an amalgamation of what I remember relatives baking for me as a kid, and a new thing influenced by new boundaries. New limitations by a dairy-free restriction put into the practice of a nostalgic moment. I cannot bake the way I used to, but I can still make things with new ingredients. I can carry on the old ways of the past but in a way that makes sense to me.

Coming from a Northern Irish background, my grandma’s side called them “scon” and she made them with raisins. She drank tea and ate them with a little butter. Traveling south, I had biscuits – buttery and lightly sweet biscuits which felt like these scones of my memory. Strawberries and shortcakes, with a dash of whipped cream, a dish reminiscent of evenings at my mother-in-law’s house. A quick baked treat after a long day of hard work, that we would eat while my father-in-law showed us old episodes of Star Trek. Irish Soda Bread is an item I discovered later on in life to celebrate my heritage. A treat my mom would make on St. Patrick’s Day. Its dense yet fluffy texture creeps its way into my scones. These are a bundle of memories in one bite.

A bite I have quite often now. A bite that is my current breakfast staple with a handful of berries and almond milk whipped cream. I eat this with a cup of Yerba Mate.

I used to avoid breakfast, I simply wasn’t hungry. Then I picked up some bad habits like granola bars, pop tarts, or sugary cereals to start my day. This is the first breakfast routine, I appreciate. Maybe it’s the responsibility of making those scones by hand and keeping the freezer stocked for the week that has given me agency. Or an open eye to how food is nourishment, not fuel, not the enemy, nor is it a coping mechanism that reminded me to enjoy this simple thing.

It’s Monday, and I only have one scone left. I’m honestly looking forward to getting my hands covered in dough, in my little weekly routine. To create that taste of home in one bite. For the love of baking. The joy of homemade, handmade things that are a privilege to make.

I hope you have a wonderful start to your week!

Rediscovering Fiction Writing

I’ve decided to get back into fiction writing! It’s been a long time, so long I almost forgot how to begin. Because of how fuzzy my creative brain has felt, I’ve been stuck in the confines of what feels familiar. I’ve been wanting to go back to what I made before. At first, I wanted to bring back Udal Cuain from memory. The bits and pieces of the characters still live in my mind, but upon trying this without my manuscript – it is a bit daunting, near impossible to remember what I wrote 6 years ago. I considered rebooting it in a new story. I could fix the decisions with the plot that irked me, revising it into a thing, but at that point, why not just branch out to a new world and new characters that embody who I am now as a writer instead of what I was. And so here we are, and I’m excited!

The Writing Prompt

Since about October 2022, the pull to dabble in fiction has returned. This was in part from a close writer friend who challenged me with a writing prompt. She asked me to write about my favorite garment from fashion history and write a story from the perspective of the person who invented the garment. I began to research, to study, to not just pick a garment but pick several and then try to place them in a world with character. There were so many evolutions to this! It was an endless pit of inspiration.

With some time to dream and consider, my first choice was the corset – it is the ultimate historical fashion garment to me because of the craftsmanship, the foundation it created for silhouette and style, and truly to challenge the many people who use it as a scapegoat in the fight against the patriarchy. If only they would do some research (I’m talking to you BBC and Netflix). I ran into a problem – what iteration of the corset would I focus on? Should I include stays? How much is too much detail? Yeah, it was a bit too broad for the kind of historical mind I possess.

My friend suggested I narrow my wild mind down to one era, my favorite era of fashion history. What is my favorite era of fashion history? Well, I broke that prompt too! I could not decide between the 1890s, 1910s, and 1690s. I blame the fantastic fashion history content of Nicole Rudolph’s 1690s-inspired Winnifred Sanderson costuming, Bernadette Banner’s 1890s-inspired garments, and Bernadette’s 1910s Mary Poppins Jolly Holiday Lingerie Dress. My little fashion nerd heart was too enthralled to choose between them. I waded deeper into the idea. Maybe social and cultural norms would flush out the true winner. A character, if I placed her into these time periods, what would her life look like? Could she be a fashion designer like I strive to be or would limitations be placed on her talents?

If she would be prevented by society to make clothing openly, what story would there be to create? I realized I was approaching the prompt from the wrong point of view. It is not if she would be making clothes, it is in what context. A home sewist? A professional seamstress for a rich or royal family? Were women head tailors? Yes, yes they were until the mid-19th century and Frederick Worth changed the industry to a male-dominated designer world. With the right context, there was a bit more wiggle room. She could be a tailor.

There was that curve ball though, I was supposed to write from the perspective of the designer who invented the garment. And this is where my historically trained brain couldn’t seem to get out of its own way. Although I wasn’t finding a credited person for these garments, I was afraid of misrepresenting the history. If nothing else, the fashion industry has built itself on a shady foundation of misappropriating cultures, using questionable materials, pushing toxic beauty ideals, and mistreating its workers. My gut was scared of what romanticizing a garment could do to the real history at play.

Razor Clams and Melancholy

Alright, so what now? Well, I thought, what about the Alexander McQueen Razor Clam dress sketch literally tattooed on my shoulder? I mean isn’t that my ultimate garment? Isn’t he the one designer that captured my imagination? Yes, yes he was. I found security in knowing a rich history of who and how this piece of art came to be. It was safe yet true to my love for fashion design. This dress has always taken my breath away. There is something unbelievable about its construction, yet undeniably beautiful in execution, like a character in a fantasy novel standing before you with a real flying bison and bending to prove it.

I didn’t realize for years that it was made from real razor clam shells, I thought that the shells were 3-D printed. Understanding the realism captured by the use of real shells makes this dress so full of life and story. Literally, these pieces could not be here without a whole story of their own, from their former life as the home of razor clams, amidst the ocean waves to the cleaning and preparation to be sewn one by one into one garment. The time and care required to make this garment is extraordinary. I thought about my own connection to the sea, picking up seashells along the beach. Walking side by side with my Grandma, talking and stopping to discover every little gem of shell and sand. It was our thing. From Marco Island to New Smyrna, to St. Augustine, to Nags Head – we combed those beaches soaking in the memories of time, we can never replace.

I thought about McQueen and his close relationship with his own mom, and the pain that hung over him after she passed away. I pictured in my mind a day of walking the beach, with the razor-clam shells washing up. Could he have been a shell seeker like me? Could he have been as inspired to create as Grandma and I did with our favorite shell finds? Stringing them onto necklaces. A little souvenir of our walks together. As I wrote, the pain and loss washed over the words a melancholy snapshot took form on the page of a heartbroken fictional character making this dress out of heartbreak for the one he loved. The process was awful. As I wrote, tears slipped down my cheeks and I hated it.

Our Creative Well

The next time my friend and I met to discuss our writing progress, I told her of my switch to the Razor Clam dress and how what came out of my writing broke me. I was in a melancholy cloud missing the flurry of indecision compared to this. In all this chaos, I learned an invaluable lesson. As my friend phrased it, I tend to create from a place of sadness. I seek out the dark and dismal places in my brain to feed whatever I am making, like a tortured artist drinking absinthe or the despair of Poe, I am drawing upon the wrong thing to write from and therefore, my projects hurt me. The same thing happened during the Udal Cuain project. It got dark, and I couldn’t live in that world anymore. She challenged me to find a new place to rely on while I write, to create from a place of joy instead of sadness. It’s changed my whole way of creating as I mentioned in #17- Bad Writing Habits.

Where do you create from? Is it a place of joy or of pain? It’s an interesting thing to consider, and can definitely affect your tone, plots, worldbuilding, etc. I think the biggest takeaway from this process of failed writing prompt drafts was to reinvigorate my brain to imagine worlds from a simple inspiration, and to begin the path of research and brainstorming for characters, stories, and plots less traveled by the current influx of fantasies, thrillers, smut-tok, superheroes, and meta-storytelling. We need new kinds of stories. With that in mind, I’m excited to keep moving forward. I hope you join me on this journey.

Staring Down the Bullies in Life – Isaiah 36 & 37

It’s funny how the Christian life works, as you grow in your faith and your dependency on God to lead you, life does fall into place because you have the peace of being in the center of God’s will for your life, but life also becomes more complex. Especially when the enemy is determined to knock you down into the pit of discouragement.

The last few weeks have been odd, as I mentioned before in #23 – Neon Shoes & Sichuan Peppercorn, I’ve been feeling a bit off. Mother’s Day reminds me of my miscarriage and the ever-growing complexities in my relationship with my mom. Little waves of sadness lapped at my shore, I can handle that, but the big one, a towering wave of anxious thoughts came from the weird qualifications of renewing my lease. In the past renewing leases has been quite simple, in my previous apartment in Meadville, we simply told them our intention of staying in a note with our rent check and they made us sign a new lease one time, the next we didn’t have a written lease at all.

In our current place, we have renewed once already, and that was a simple process last year. They came, we signed and they asked if we would be interested in buying the place if they sold it. No big deal. This year, there were changes. Communication has been a bit awkward for me with the landlord because of some neighborhood dynamics. Here’s what happened.

Mean Girls Don’t Grow Up

Last summer, a very nosy and gossipy neighbor, who claims to be best friends with our landlords, began letting her dog poop in our vegetable garden. When I tried discussing it she became more and more aggressive. Eventually, when I returned her dog who had wandered into our garage, the neighbor and her 18-year-old daughter screamed at me in front of the whole neighborhood. They told me no one wanted me here, everyone hated me, that my landlords were going to evict me, and basically I should go into my house and never come out again because I was a worthless human being. When I said, “You can’t speak to me like this,” the daughter haughtily confirmed that they can and will bully me and that I should just take it and shut up.

Another neighbor, who lives on the other side literally went to get help when she saw the bullies screaming at me because she thought they were going to hit me. It was so Jersey Shore. In true Mike “The Situation” fashion, when he knocked his own head into a wall, the bullies flailing in anger, escorted themselves back into their house with gnashing of teeth, when I firmly stood my ground by not answering back but not leaving. I just looked at them. The houses are very close here, so needless to say it has been an awkward year living next to people who hate you. We haven’t spoken since.

And so, I’ve been nervous in all interactions with my landlords since, because what if the bullies tainted my reputation with my landlords. What if it was true and they all wanted me gone. It’s dumb, but those insecurities took root in my head. Probably because it has happened before, with my own family. Everyone ganged up on me and essentially kicked me out of my family for standing up to the bullies within the family. What if it was happening again? Anxiety rose up into a building sea. I was a ball of nerves when I asked about renewing the lease, and the wave grew higher when my landlord required a walkthrough to sign the lease. A walkthrough? For what cause? My mind began to question if they didn’t trust us anymore? What if they were looking for a reason to kick us out? The what-ifs grew and grew!

My mind went through preparing for the worst, searching for places, cleaning every nook and cranny, and reading the Bible for hope in the midst of confusion. I asked close friends to pray for God’s direction in this time, of what felt like a testing ground. I knew could simply leave and start a new chapter, that became clear but it didn’t feel like it was what God was leading me towards. I felt as though if I took the easy way out and found a new place, I would be missing out God on teaching me something. I prayed and leaned on Him to unwind those knots in my mind from betrayal and past hurt to believe that even in the midst of uncertainty He is holding me in the palm of His hand.

He also taught me something painful, to forgive the bullies of my own family and my neighbors. I was resistant to this process, to say the least. All year long the grudge grew inside me against my neighbors until their general presence annoyed me. I was full of bitterness that was holding me back from the peace God wanted to give me. I held on to my anger like an idol and I was missing the point. If I had run to a new place, I would have missed the lesson of forgiveness, because when I finally submitted my anger to God and asked him to help me forgive my neighbors the darkness and fear I felt lifted. I even found myself feeling forgiveness for my family members that abandoned me. God provided everything I needed from the perspective to the understanding to be prepared for the walkthrough.

A Lesson from Hezekiah and Sennacherib

He clothed me in his peace and love so that I could walk confidently into the situation. The morning of the walkthrough I opened my Bible for my next reading and I noticed it was a familiar passage. Isaiah 36-37. In this passage, King Sennacherib from Assyria is threatening Jerusalem with destruction. He is essentially a big bully. He taunts not only the Israelites but God himself. Sennacherib tries to bait the people into putting their trust in him, instead of the power of God. In response, Hezekiah prays that God will rebuke the Assyrian king for his ridicule of God.

“Therefore pray for the remnant that still survives.”
When King Hezekiah’s officials came to Isaiah, Isaiah said to them, “Tell your master, ‘This is what the Lord says: Do not be afraid of what you have heard—those words with which the underlings of the king of Assyria have blasphemed me. Listen! When he hears a certain report, I will make him want to return to his own country, and there I will have him cut down with the sword.’”

Isaiah 37: 4-7

Like the big bully he is, Sennacherib is enraged to hear that Hezekiah will not back down and doubles down on his mockery of Hezekiah’s faith. Sennacherib doubles down on his threats in order to manipulate and intimidate the people of Israel so that they will question their faith in God for Sennacherib’s gain. How often do we see this in life? Politics and news outlets certainly use this tactic to get the people to align with the agenda, but also we do this to each other. And most importantly, in those moments of fear the enemy capitalizes on this strategy. If you don’t listen to the devil the first time, he’ll just yell louder. And that is what I felt as the walkthrough approached. Although I was seeking after God and learning how to forgive, if I lost my focus for a second on God, the enemy started coming for me. So the fact that I read Isaiah 36-37 the morning of the walkthrough was not a coincidence.

“Hezekiah received the letter from the messengers and read it. Then he went up to the temple of the Lord and spread it out before the Lord. And Hezekiah prayed to the Lord: “Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, enthroned between the cherubim, you alone are God over all the kingdoms of the earth. You have made heaven and earth. Give ear, Lord, and hear; open your eyes, Lord, and see; listen to all the words Sennacherib has sent to ridicule the living God. “It is true, Lord, that the Assyrian kings have laid waste all these peoples and their lands. They have thrown their gods into the fire and destroyed them, for they were not gods but only wood and stone, fashioned by human hands.  Now, Lord our God, deliver us from his hand, so that all the kingdoms of the earth may know that you, Lord, are the only God.”

Isaiah 37:14-20

As the chapter continues, Sennacherib ignores the warnings from God, he is arrogant and full of hatred. His words spit fire and poison. He is used to getting his way and regales the Israelites with a list of his conquests. He claims that he is unable to lose, and claims that He is more powerful than God Almighty. Yeah, this is not going to be good for Sennacherib! But he sounds a lot like the world. He sounds like those structures in our society that claim more power, more authority over us than the Lord himself. They try to diminish the Lord’s power. I’ve even heard the Navy does this in the submarine program. They try to break the sailors who work in the subs, by telling them that under the water they are too far away from God to be in His presence. How sick is that?! Anyways. This is how God responds to human powers and their arrogance:

“Therefore this is what the Lord says concerning the king of Assyria:
“He will not enter this city
    or shoot an arrow here.
He will not come before it with shield
    or build a siege ramp against it.
 By the way that he came he will return;
    he will not enter this city,”
declares the Lord.
 “I will defend this city and save it,
    for my sake and for the sake of David my servant!”
Then the angel of the Lord went out and put to death a hundred and eighty-five thousand in the Assyrian camp. When the people got up the next morning—there were all the dead bodies! So Sennacherib king of Assyria broke camp and withdrew. He returned to Nineveh and stayed there. One day, while he was worshiping in the temple of his god Nisrok, his sons Adrammelek and Sharezer killed him with the sword, and they escaped to the land of Ararat. And Esarhaddon his son succeeded him as king.”

Isaiah 37:33-38

I read this and felt this strange peace wash over me. I knew that it was going to be okay, I can’t explain why. I was still scared, like if I paused to think about the what-ifs of the walk-through – what if during the walkthrough my bully neighbors came outside and began bad-mouthing me? What if the landlords will make me answer for that? What if they gang up on me too? What if my landlords go through my stuff? The fear was still there; unless I focused on God. As I focused on God, I felt the mental clarity to move along with my day and had a very productive day instead of quivering in anxiety. Like Peter stepping out of the boat, as long as I looked at Jesus I could walk on the water, the minute I looked down I began to fall back into worry.

Unexpected Roofers

The time came. The clock showed 4pm. I waited for their car to drive up the street. Nothing. I checked my phone. Nothing. I looked again. They said they were running late – so odd for my normally punctual landlords. They arrived, wearing smiles, with greetings of friendly conversation. Just like I remembered them to be. This is where it gets interesting.

A few months ago tornado producing storms came through the region, damaging their roof. For weeks they waited for roofers to come with nothing to show for it. Except, that the roofers arrived exactly when God planned. Minutes before the landlords left their house to do our walkthrough an unexpected company of roofers arrived at 3:45pm on a Friday to start repairing the roof. The roofers were non-native English speakers, they were not able to converse with our landlords about how this was a bad time and set to work. Therefore our landlords were in a huge rush, they barely wanted to do the walkthrough! How incredible is that?! They stayed less than 10 minutes, I’m not joking. I barely had time to read through the lease, they were so anxious to get back home. The best part – none of my neighbors were home. None, which is unnatural for the time of day.

A peace that surpasses all understanding has washed over the neighborhood. I used to feel like I didn’t belong here like I couldn’t go outside without waiting for another verbal punch. I felt judged and unwanted. I don’t feel that way now. I know that God has provided a place for me. As long as this is where he has called me I shall not fear.

I don’t know how you explain that without God. He took every piece, every what -if and neutralized the fire. He did it his way and in doing so I learned a whole lot about the kind of God he is. I gained forgiveness, peace, and experience in weathering the storms of life. I also learned that bad things, although the pain can stay with us, are not bigger or more powerful than the provision of God. If God is in your corner, you don’t need anyone else to make things happen. You are not beholden to other people’s opinions, condemnation, or approval. How incredible is that?

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