I finished my koala portrait from Koala Drawings in Pencil in a new medium, well a new old medium, a medium I haven’t used in 10 years, oil pastel! I forgot how good oil pastels are for color payoff and texture without being messy like chalk pastels or watercolors. I felt in control of the pigment while being able to direct shadows and highlights over the piece. I’m hooked!
This koala was inspired by a photo I found on Instagram from a creator with the handle @hidenoritsuzuki. Why was this image so special to me? The hand posture and facial expression reminded me so much of my stepdad and his favorite goofy way to feign exasperation. It was the hand! Totally brightened my day. 🙂
Driving home on a cloudy, rainy Sunday a wash of bright, sunshine-yellow that burst upon the landscape once I got within my hometown’s county. A golden, almost firey shrubbery that dotted the yards of homes near and far. But what is this? This long-forgotten friend that signals spring, the forsythia.
At first, I thought this was a local plant, potentially a Pennsylvanian cherry blossom? But actually, I learned that forsythia originates from Eastern Asia and Eastern Europe. I wonder what brought them here? Maybe the simple beauty or immigrant communities from Eastern Europe who came to Beaver County brought a sense of home? That would be cool.
Since I moved from home, I think my springs have been colored with different shades of spring. The crocus, the daffodil, and when May creeps in, the rhododendron (a tongue twister). I look at photos and videos with wanderlust of the Sakura and forget my local splendor, the forsythia.
I didn’t realize how much I missed those beautiful golden blossoms until I saw them again. It was a welcome call, a return to normalcy to a world of childhood that felt like a warm hug. As I mentioned before in Easter Traditions and Celebrating the Resurrection there isn’t a lot of familiarity in my holidays anymore, but this, it felt like a moment stuck in time.
This wasn’t the only familiar sight of the weekend. I went home and got to give my parents hugs, and my family dog snuggles, and ate a new little tradition – thumbprint cookies from My Sweet Lily. My mom and Scott (who I’m referring to when I say my parents) travel down to Pittsburgh’s Strip District each Easter season to get a ham at Wholey’s Market and make another stop. To a bakery that sells dairy-free confections of creme-filled pastries called lady locks and these cookies called thumbprints, rolled in sprinkles with a dollop of icing on top.
This variety with the frosting, is incredibly sweet, vibrantly colored, and sort of stomach ache-inducing but I love them and choose to indulge in their sweetness once a year. I’ve had these cookies with jam and with a chocolate ganache, which is splendidly rich. I was curious where these cookies originated from and they are an Americanized version of the Swedish hallongrotta cookie. The name hallongrottor translates to raspberry cave, as these cookies are traditionally served with raspberry jam filling the depression in the top of the cookie.
Today we have a familiar friend visiting our basement, rainwater. Oh rainwater, flowing into the basement and making the journey to the washing machine an adventure of tiny stream crossings. I’m trying to be patient and accept that this Spring is going to be a rainy one, just like the rainy winter we had and it will pass. The basement will dry out.
Meanwhile, the rain is kind of calming, gentle, and cozy on this April day. I can’t believe it’s April already and I’m so excited. I’ve been designing up a storm for summer and I can’t wait to share it with you. ❤
My go-to inspiration in high school was this daily calendar my mom had in her office. Each day featured a photograph from a scene in Ireland, and each day, at the end of the day, my mom would bring the paper home and give me the photograph to draw from. Before the days of Pinterest and Instagram, it was a bit tricky to find beautiful images to practice with. There were magazines of course and books, not to mention literally the world around you, but this was a game changer to get daily inspiration. In the 2000s, it was before the supremacy of the touchscreen smartphone with apps galore and fantastic cameras to snap photos in that you could carry around in your pocket. If you took photos for inspiration, you had to print them and it was not cheap. Printing even on printer paper was not cheap and trust me, parents did not like us wasting ink.
This is a taste of what the images featured via a modern source – Unsplash.
What is special to me about the framed image above is that I didn’t frame it. My grandparents did. It was a piece that I guess spoke to them and they framed it and hung it in their bedroom. Something I didn’t appreciate at the time, as a moody teenager I was embarrassed by it. Now in 2024, it hangs in the hallway outside my bedroom and when I see it hanging there proudly in its frame I remember how much they believed in my art, my writing, my fashion sense. I wish I could show them all that I am doing now. I think they would be proud.
What strategies do you use to cope with negative feelings?
It’s taken a while for me to find healthy coping mechanisms when negative feelings wash over me. Before I used to push the feelings down and grow numb, I’d clam up, or I’d get angry and stay angry. I’d shop for the heck of it or engage in self-destructive behavior like drinking or fighting with people I cared about until they didn’t want to talk to me anymore. I’d punish my body with exercise or restrictive eating. After a certain point the negative feelings and my destructive solutions, came to run my life and the anxiety and depression I had been allowing to take root in my life were in the driver’s seat and I was not even a passenger looking out the windshield, but was all the way in the backseat and had no concept of where the car was going.
Three years ago, I decided to take charge of my responses to stress and negative feelings. I stopped using alcohol as a crutch when I was overwhelmed by stressful and painful life situations and decided to look my pain in the eye and face it down. Now, I’m not doing this alone, when I made this decision I surrendered it to God, and chose to let Him be my driver of the car instead of myself or my anxiety and depression. It wasn’t any easy choice. It was scary but also an unknown to be explored. It was a new beginning.
Prayer
Prayer became the immediate lifeline between me and the negative emotions in my mind in combination with spending time in God’s word. Consciously shifting my perspective from, I’m alone and I’m scared to I’m scared but I’m never alone truly helped me feel sure footed when negative emotions clouded over my mind. Was it an instantaneous fix? Yes sometimes and other times it was a slow burn, it’s been a process of sanctification.
Focusing on God can pull me out of panic attacks and remind me that I am loved when dysfunctional people in my life make me question that. But I’ve found that when I’m really dialed into my relationship with God that is where I see the most results because prayer is about preparation. Being consistent so when those big, scary emotions come I can remember God’s promises. Being present keeps my eyes fixed on Him and helps me feel His presence even though I cannot see Him in front of me.
Has it taken away the negative emotions completely? No, they still happen and I still get anxious and depressed but I don’t remain there. Like a rain storm there is a clear sky on the other side, the morning always follows the night.
Poetry
I started writing poetry again back in December after a long hiatus, like maybe five years of turning away from it because of a friendship that I didn’t want to have creative competition in. That was a mistake because poetry, like journaling is an incredible way to walk your mind through your negative thoughts and process them through creating a work of art in words. Whenever my head feels too full with emotions and negative thoughts I pour them on to the page. I have specific notebook for this purpose and I say what I am feeling to my notebook.
I’ve done this as a way to get out of a loop of insomnia I was stuck in because of grief and it helped me digest the pain that was hovering in my mind so that I could move to the other side and back to a more balanced mind. Some poems I share and some are just kept for my own creative expression. It’s like Dumbledore’s Pensieve in Harry Potter. The memories, emotions, and negative thoughts are extracted on to the page where they can live and my mind can have some rest. Which is oh so nice for an over thinker like myself, who will continue to think until the wee hours of the night on problems there is no clear answer to.
Music
Since I received my iPod nano in 2008, I have been a music escapist. I need my headphones and my music at the ready for trips, errands, social situations, etc. I crave that escape when the world feels like too much. I need music to carry me through what I’m feeling and get my emotions out.
I usually run to music when I’m feeling angry, fed up, or in pain. I will play it loud and let the beat and the bass overwhelm me in its world until the anger feels less explosive. I’ll run to music when I’m feeling scared and uncomfortable to distract and get my mind out of the loop its in. Music is motivating. My favorite go to songs when I feel like I’m going to explode from all the emotion inside and I’m feeling anger rise in me are LALALALA Rock Version by Stray Kids, Cover Me by Stray Kids, Bouncy (K-Hot Chili Peppers) by Ateez, Guerilla by Ateez, Haegeum by Suga, Kill this Love by Blackpink, or Drama by Aespa.
Exercise
The other day I felt some unsolvable pain due to an increasingly dysfunctional relationship I have with a parent and I wanted to give into the temptation of destructive behavior. I wanted to drain my bank account with a shopping spree and get very drunk because I felt so helpless from this relationship ever getting better here on Earth. I was frustrated and wanted to feel pain because I was feeling angry and numb. Instead of doing something destructive, I decided to work out, and push my body though exercise to embrace the burn to feel something instead of hurting myself and my future. It worked!
I was motivated to lift weights longer, hold wall sits and planks longer, to push my leg muscles, my core, and my arms to higher reps. It was awesome and constructive instead of destructive but with the release of anger in a healthy way. I remember my Papa telling me that he would channel all the anger he had from his own dysfunctional parents on the football field and get the emotions out through the physicality of the game. It truly made a difference and I was able to no longer feel explosive after my workout because although the pain and negative thoughts were still hovering in the background, I felt like I was no longer trapped in my mind.
Art
When I don’t know what to do with my mind, I make art. I get creative and let myself escape into a world of my own creation in order to get out of my own head and my swirling negative thoughts. Getting creative reminds me of what my purpose is and my calling and helps me to remember that there is more to life than the bad times. There is so much beauty beyond what I am currently stuck in, when I’m feeling low, that I need to carry on and make something beautiful. Get out of my own head and remember that I have worth, I have the ability to create beauty in this world, and I can do better than those around me who hurt me. Art is uplifting. Creating is nourishing. It channels the pain into something more than it started as, it becomes a touch point of connection with others and the world around us.
My favorite way to escape into art is to draw landscapes, flowers, animals, and the sky in the majesty of a sunset.
In 2011, my senior year of high school, one of my close friends opted to not come back to our school for his final year and instead chose to do cyber school which meant, because of how much time he already spent working and playing a little game called war of warcraft, I was going to lose contact with him. Now, at the time, I had known this friend since we were toddlers, through church and later on school, it seemed too important to let that friendship fade into nothingness just because of change of life. I knew there was one modern way to stay connected, a way I dreaded and had put off as long as possible – Facebook. And so in 2011, I bit the bullet and got one.
I instantly regretted my decision.
All of a sudden my feed was filled with information overload in the way only social media can with details that honestly make you feel a bit insecure, like realizing, I knew I was a bit of an outsider at school but oh my, a lot of parties and social events were happening that weren’t on my radar that were now showcased page after page. Suddenly, the peace and tranquility of my quiet introverted life, one connected to people outside classmates, was gone. Poof. I felt a comparison. I felt lacking. I felt lame. A person missing the plot that everyone else got. Who were these people I thought I knew?
Was I doing this all wrong? Should I have more friends? The friend count, the status symbol of ye olde Facebook, some of my fellow friends had 1000s of friends and I was struggling to think of 100 people I knew well enough to add. The profile picture, the clever status updates, the albums upon albums of photos of normal days and things. What was this weird and aspirational world? And where did my feeling of contentment go? In an instant, it left me like a hat on a windy day.
I look back on this feeling and wish I had rolled the dice on keeping in touch through email or text because that friendship didn’t last once we entered college and went our separate ways, but those feelings of insecurity and comparison, they took root. Not just me, but I think all of us are waking up to this and how social media is stealing our joy and our world from what it can be.
After all, we know now that Facebook is a terrible way to keep friendships going, except we didn’t know that yet. I mean I think everyone over the age of 60 at the time knew it was not a replacement for having a social life, but we like intrepid explorers too cocky to listen to the warning that the river was going to turn into a waterfall went tally-ho onward into the mist and went over the waterfall. And now with our broken bits of boat and sputtering of water in our lungs, we see our friends float by us in the river and yet just like the metaphor, we are unable to link arms because the current of the algorithm is taking us where it wants to. Unhappy and alone, we arrived in 2024 and it was time for me to climb ashore.
I was watching the first season of the Great British Bake Off with Mary Berry, Paul Hollywood, Sue Perkins, and Mel Giedroyc, circa 2010 and I felt this overwhelming yearning to go back, back to 2010. Like this scene in Joe Wright’s Pride and Prejudice where Elizabeth sees Mr. Darcy appear in the fading mist of dawn.
I thought about this, why did I feel such a strong pull toward this time? I don’t particularly love the fashion of this period nor was it the most exciting time of my life, it was high school for goodness sake with the season of SATs and college applications. But it was strung together with moments of deep authenticity, real connections, and life spent living in real life instead of online. I spent my days with real people, not a screen with someone behind the screen talking to me. It was real and my world, with my people. I wasn’t worrying about FOMO or what other people were doing, I didn’t consider what other people were doing if I wasn’t there or how I should be spending my time compared to what other people were doing. I was just living. It was before social media had its claws into me and the world.
I remember the world being less performative, less homogenous, and more authentic. If someone was cool it was usually because they were doing their own thing and owning it. If someone was pursuing a hobby or a career it was because they had a passion for it, not for social media clout or to be like everyone else. Phones were for texts and phone calls, sometimes photos. At social events, particularly family events and meals, they stayed in your pocket.
If you were using your phone you were actively talking to someone. People knew things and retained information because Google wasn’t at the ready. You had to discuss and determine things through research, using a book or a computer. Photos existed in physical albums, in frames, on fridges, and in wallets. Body dysmorphia existed, but was less of a constant because in person you can’t Photoshop and filter, you have to accept who you are enough to be in person. Trips were shared through home movies, photos, and stories around a table with food and drink.
At that moment, I realized I was done. Done with pretending I like this fake world of connection. I separated my Instagram from my Facebook so that I could continue sharing photos to my Instagram sewing portfolio account, because that is for exposure not connecting, and deactivated my Facebook. I kept Messenger so that three specific people could still reach me and I hit that deactivate button. And I have to say, it felt like a fake haze lifted from my world. That chapter was done and I feel a peace washing over me again.
If it was as easy as leaving one social media platform, what other little swaps could I do to find those things that made the world feel so real and connected before the social media age? That is my next quest. Onward into normal, human connections!
There is a devotional currently on the Bible app called Mr. Rogers and the Call to Create and it is incredible. It walks the reader through the calling that led Fred Rogers from the desire to become a pastor to a fascination for the potential of what television could become as a way to communicate and connect with others. It was this idea that led him on the path toward a one-of-a-kind ministry opportunity to serve his community with uplifting messages for whatever they were walking through.
Mister Roger’s Neighborhood
As a kid growing up in the United States in the late 1990s and early 2000s, Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood was an after-school staple. I knew it was popular in my region, the Greater Pittsburgh Area, but it took me a while to realize how big its reach was. It was not just for my area but for all! Fred Rogers was from Latrobe, PA, and filmed the show in Pittsburgh which is why I thought it was regional. But his neighborhood had a tremendous reach, running from 1968-2001. It has the hallmark of a true calling and was an incredible ministry filling a void in our culture – community. Which in 2024, feels like exactly what we need.
Through his show, Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, and the themes his show explored he was able to talk to kids earnestly, encouraging them to feel their big feelings, and demonstrated examples of kindness and gentleness in a world that is not gentle or kind. It was about being a good neighbor for all. Compared to other kid shows of its time, Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood considered the bigger picture of childhood. It’s not just about learning how to read and do math, there is also room for play, imagination, and emotional intelligence. (Again, it seems ahead of its time and just what we all need right now!)
I understand now as an adult why this show meant so much to me, it was a safe space to not be okay when big emotions hit me, like the confusing and sporadic visits of my Dad and buried traumatic memories from their messy divorce that my kid brain couldn’t process yet. It also gave me a sense of belonging, like there was this little world of coziness, I guess it was like my first comfort show.
I watched a clip of the show recently and was filled with a craving for that safe space of childhood, the comfort and warmth of watching the show in the family room at my grandparent’s house, probably with Papa and Grandma around, and soaking up the imagination and wonder of the Neighborhood of Make-Believe. What an amazing world Fred created!
Pulpit or Programming
A particularly big choice Fred Rogers had to make was whether to pursue ministry as a pastor or follow the calling he felt into the unknown of television. He went to seminary and carried forth into television, taking an unorthodox path.
I found this inspiring to learn because life is full of twists, but as I look back on my life so far and think of the lives of others I know, the path forward to where God was ultimately leading them didn’t make a lot of sense at the moment.
There have been many times since graduating from high school that have made me question what all this is for? In the closed doors and detours, is it just the strife and confusion of the fallen world at work? Am I born to fail? These are honest thoughts.
As I dive deeper into my faith and relationship with God, I can sum it up to being moments that create a bigger picture. A broken piece of pottery for a mosaic, that doesn’t make sense from my up close and personal perspective, from God’s higher perspective and plan, it all fits together into one vision. He equips the called, instead of calling the equipped.
Many had criticisms of Fred Rogers’ decision to focus his ministry through Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood and to minister to children instead of establishing a ministry in a church pulpit for adults, but as Jesus gave his attention to the children in Mark 10, Fred Rogers did the same, because they matter as much as adults even though sometimes we can forget that in our world.
Fred Rogers earnestly sought to see the world through God’s eyes instead of the lens of what the world says, and I think that is what made his show and his life so impactful. He was compassionate, empathetic, gentle, wise, kind, and loving. If we aren’t fortunate enough to have this example in our lives as a child, from the examples of our family members, which is pretty common, Fred Rodgers’ ministry filled the gaps.
He encouraged imagination and wonder, things that the dark parts of life try to steal from us.
Key Messages
I don’t want to spoil too much of this devotional in case you decide to give it a read-through, but here are some of the key messages from the Bible study that have impacted me to my core as a fellow creative person pursuing fashion, which is not a place where Christian faith intersects. At least, I haven’t run across an example yet.
“I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.”
Romans 12:1-2 ESV
“So, whatever you eat or you drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.”
1 Corinthians 10:31 ESV
“Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men,”
Colossians 3:23 ESV
Ministry is not cut and dry. It is not just a church sermon or an act of service, it is a lifestyle, and as a believer, we must strive to become more Christ-like every day, which is what ministry is at its heart. Ministry and calling apply to everything, even things that don’t seem inherently “Christian” like television or fashion. God can work through all things. He weaves it all together in His way, and this devotional truly opened my eyes to things I hadn’t thought of before.
What I Learned
In 2022, I began to consider opening a store and I decided to study my customer base which led me down a rabbit hole of understanding youth culture, and in doing so my mind has been opened to all the ways the younger generation is lonely, seeking purpose and meaning, and is feeling the weight of the stressful world we live in. It made my heart break for how our culture lacks hope and community. I don’t want people to be suffering alone.
In looking for my customer, I think I found my focus for how I want to apply the lessons of Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood to my life and my corner of the world. I don’t want anyone to feel alone, lost, or question their worth. I’m not sure how to accomplish this yet, but I realized the important thing is to let God be in the driver’s seat of my life first and then the rest will reveal itself in time.
Final Thoughts
If you enjoyed Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood as a kid and want to know more about the behind-the-scenes of his life and how Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood came about I’d highly recommend checking out the study linked above. There’s no requirement to share my faith to check it out, it’s just a piece of writing that is really good. Thank you, dear reader, for taking time with me today. I hope wherever you are you know that you are loved. Until next time.
This month has straight up stunk. It was a pinball of coming off those allergic reactions I mentioned in #45 – Allergy and Winter Winds, coming down with a cold or a cold, getting better, having an allergic reaction to my eyeshadow, getting another cold, discovering my body wash and loofah combo was giving me irritation, in the form of friction hives, and having to stop drinking camomille to get the hives to go away. I was stuck in this loop of discouragement and I definitely let it live in my mind leading to worry and feeling stuck, basically, like this gif when Kim and Ron switch bodies because of Drakken’s body-switching machine. It was one flip to another flop, nothing progressing, just stuck.
That is life, it kicks our butts, leaves us discouraged, and some days feel like a bunch of little things going wrong are going to give us death by a thousand paper cuts. But honestly, that’s part of the journey of existence. Life does not give us any guarantees that each day is going to be sunshine and rainbows, some days are like a tsunami, and other days are like tripping, repeatedly. I’m thankful that it was only a bunch of small little things breaking my focus, instead of one of those big things that shake us to our core. As a highly sensitive person, I can let the little things swirl around in my head until they are big, shakeable problems that tower over me. These little setbacks taught me something pretty important, I need people in my life. I crave it more than my introverted nature is willing to admit.
On those days, when I felt frustrated and down, lost in the worry of my own head, the thing that pulled me back to the light were people. They helped me remember that I wasn’t alone, but instead that I am loved and needed by others in return. There is purpose and worth in the person I am in being there for others in my life.
It was the small things, Kyle taking care of me when I was feeling really crumby, like asking if I had taken medicine or refilling my water bottle before I realized it was empty. Him doing the dishes, cooking dinner, and making me tea in the morning as I was super slow pulling myself out of bed. Those are huge when you are feeling sick and he is so patient with me. Or my neighbor, who texted me one morning because our Amazon packages got mixed up, remembering she is next door and always there if I need a friend. A phone conversation with a friend, talking about anything or nothing, but the connection of catching up after a while and spending time in that bubble together is such a refreshing reset. Having one of those low-maintenance friendships where she texts me out of the blue and we spend time catching up writing digital letters to each other until the conversation fades, knowing we’ll pick it back up later on. Admitting to my mom that I was scared because she was having complications from her surgery this past summer, saying the fear aloud and facing that I didn’t want anything bad to happen to her. A quick chat with my stepdad, talking nonsense but having a blast doing it. My brother-in-law video calling me out of the blue to catch up as we both cook dinner.
Those little moments of community, pull me out of the funk I was in faster than I realized. We really need people. This modern life is lonely. If nothing else, from this month, I learned how dissatisfied I am with the digital barriers there are to the community and how I don’t want to settle anymore. Because people matter and we need them even if we get peopled out easily. Goodbye, February, my relentless gremlin and ironically, the frank teacher I needed.
One afternoon day, I hit a wall and found a solution in my workout room. You see I’d been sewing in the living room, not because I wasn’t provided the opportunity to have a sewing room, I think I was just being stubborn. Throughout 2023 though, I began to outgrow the living room setup, galavanting from the coffee and dining room tables. My projects were scattered across the first floor of our home. It was chaos. Fabric scraps, yarn fluffs, knitting needles, pins, computer, charger, sewing machine, sewing pedal, notebooks, paintbrushes, etc.
I hit a wall when I felt frustrated for the 1000th time that my sewing machine was bouncing against the circular antique table instead of being balanced on a proper sewing table. I then switched to cutting out a pattern on the coffee table, littered with life and projects, in this ineffective space I cut the wrong piece. In frustration, I realized this was a product of my own decision-making. It was time to level up and clean the workout room for a proper studio.
I think I had been thinking about this longer than I realized, because, after Christmas, I hung up my new bunny calendar and K-pop posters in the workout room, like a future studio. Even though I wasn’t planning the conversion to a studio, it all worked out seamlessly. I moved some things around, decluttered others, and brought the white folding table up from the coat closet. I brought my machine and sewing notions up, including my sewing treasure chest Kyle made me last year. With art supplies, notebooks, and my computer in toe, there was a magic that happened. It was perfect!
The only money I spent on the conversion were new curtains to keep the space warmer, than the repurposed sheets I had sewn into curtains. It’s the breathing room I need to create and the space from this work I need. Knowing I can step away from a project for the night, without having to clean up the items for dinner, is life-changing. I’m sleeping better.
I think since getting married and working from home, I missed that private space, like having my own room again. I can shut the door and escape into my own little world. That was one of my favorite things about life as a single person. It’s good to keep those things, after life changes. I love my life, but I like who I am more with this studio. I am a lot more patient.
My favorite part of this workspace is the natural lighting. It’s so bright and airy, that it lifts my spirits every time I walk into the space.
One Rabbit Riot 