Back to the top. (August 31 [Everybody])

Today makes the 31^st day of this journey. It has been hard, it has been tiring, and it has been a lot of fun. It is my hope that you have found at least a single word that has spoken directly to your soul and changed you for the better. It was not my intention to write poetry, but merely get into the habit of putting words on paper. Some of them are poetic, some of them are angry rants, but I still put words on paper, which was the goal.

I would also like to thank everybody who gave me ideas about what to write about. Without each and every one of you this would have been possible. Even though you probably won't read this one first, here is some information about the format of the titles:

Title of post. (Date Written [Dedication])

Each post, well most of the posts, are dedicated to an individual or group of people who supplied with the idea that served as a starting point for the post. Below you will find a formal list of contributing artists, and hopefully, they all know how much their support has meant to me, and hopefully they will continue to support me as I try to find ways of taking this writing thing more seriously. Nonetheless, the journey has merely begun. So, hold on to your hats and we'll see what September brings. Until then, thank-you!

Here is a list of contributing artists, in no particular order:

1. Kendall    
   
   1. Faith
      
2. Ryen
   
   1. Patience
      
3. Brett    
   
   1. Adventure
      
4. Amanda (via Colin)    
   
   1. Ninja Turtles
      
5. Laramie
   
   1. Entitlement
      
6. Amy
   
   1. "What is home?"
      
7. Megan C.        
   
   1. Friendship
      
   2. Gaining Wisdom
      
8. Megan H.    
   
   1. Privilege
      
   2. Notion of success and failure
      
9. Lauren/Peter
   
   1. human body
      
   2. random kindness
      
   3. corporations in Christianity
      
   4. favorite song
      
   5. passion
      
10. Maggie        
    
    1. Her birthday (August 31)
       
11. Amanda
    
    1. Boys wearing nail polish
       
12. Cecelia
    
    1. Fear
       
    2. Freddie Mercury
       
    3. Elephants
       
13. Aaron
    
    1. A day at the state fair
       
14. River
    
    1. Working for the (wo)man
       
    2. Stickin' it to the (wo)man
       
15. Pastor Cheri
    
    1. Growing cantaloupes in Wisconsin
       
16. Skylar
    
    1. What you find in a garden
       
17. Brandon
    
    1. Tuesday, the most overlooked day of the week?
       
18. Gary
    
    1. Predestination
       

 

I didn't get every single one of these ideas written about, but I did my best to get at least one from everybody. Please: enjoy, comment, share, repost, do whatever it is you feel inspired to do (if anything)!

Again, I can't thank you all enough for this. Until next time…

Happy Birthday, Maggie. (August 31 [Maggie])

Most people would
Agree that
God does great things,
Going forward in life
Is one of
Everybody's greatest fears.

In fact many people
Stay where they are, frozen,

Always looking for an escape.
Well, not everybody.
Every once and a while
Somebody comes around and
Opens doors.
Maggie is that somebody,
Even on her birthday
!!

Can you feel it? (August 30 [N/A])

It's almost over.

The day of reckoning, the day where I can look back and look at how many shitty pieces of writing I have compiled in a 31 day month. That day is almost here, and I can't wait.

However, I want to share something really quick, just so I can say I did it.

I have been sitting on a new tattoo idea for a while, and would like to speak it into existence, at least as far as the universe goes. I have told some of my friends and have gained some support, so why not tell some complete strangers and see what comes of it.

For those of you who don't know, because you're strangers, I have 2 ¾ of my limbs tattooed (both arms wrist to shoulder, right leg ankle to knee, and left leg 3 pieces taking up most of the lower half of my leg). All of the pieces of art I have collected on my body are meaningful, and awesome—you should ask to see pictures if you don't believe me! However, each piece has also accompanied me through times of transition, and operate as guideposts for where I was coming from so that I can, hopefully, no repeat history.

For instance, the top of my right arm has been worked on by 2 different artists and still isn't complete. Needless to say I started there when I was 19 years old (18 days after my birthday). It is a landscape of heaven, and needless to say at that point I was trying to figure out what it meant to be a believer. Thus, I added hell to the bottom.

Anyway, this is not about looking back and telling the stories of my current pieces, I want to share with you the idea for the next one.

You see I find myself in a weird spot, in terms of faith. So, here's my idea, picture this:

Jesus.

Riding in a UFO (alien spaceship, most likely a round one with a bubble top).

Sign.

"The Truth is out there!"

Laser beams.

Perfect right? Can you see it? I was thinking to see if the artist could possibly put the picture on a scroll type tapestry so that it looked like an ancient prophecy or something, maybe with the laser beams shooting out of it or something. Not sure on the fine details, but that's the overall idea.

Again, not looking for theological dispute, merely putting the idea out there in hopes that I can one day get up the guts to do it. Now, this is not permission for anybody to steal my idea either, so don't even think about it… or else!

Good night.

Good morning.

Good afternoon.

Good tomorrow.

Tomorrow will be the last day of this project, and so we'll see what happens then.

Until forever…

Post-Flood. (August 29 [Everybody])

With the flood comes cleansing. The rescue team returned to make sure everything was good to go. Cleaned the mud. Soaked up the water. Removed the debris. Readying the habitat for reentry. It's a blessing to have such wonderful people to help out.

However, all was not fine and dandy. Things are quickly forgotten in the light of near tragedy. Dreams were still dreamt, thoughts were still thought, but do we remember those? Do we recall what we were doing before the flood? Can we picture what we were thinking about before the water rushed in? I can, but that's because it happened just yesterday.

Today was a new day. I stepped out into the world to see the sun shining down. Time to get things done. Time to step forward into the world and make like nothing happened. Keep your head up high and cross things off your to-do list—that's the mentality that keeps the world turning, the to-do list.

I still remember what I was thinking about.

I still remember what I was feeling.

I still remember that there are struggles going on in the world far greater than mine.

However, in this moment; in this place; at this time… I matter. I am important. I am a person to.

There are times when I forget this—that I matter.

The point of my life is not to constantly be a service to others. I have a life to live, I have things to cross off my list too. I can't always be called upon to be the helping hand, even though I would like to be. There was an interesting thought that has burdened me since the flood, and it went something like this:

If the roles were reversed, would they stick it out for you?

If I were in their position, and they were in mine, how long would they stay? How long would they keep fighting for/with me? How long would they put their life, their dreams, and their desires on hold to be of service to me? I don't know, and chances are I will never know. However, it has been a difficult thing to swallow, especially considering I feel as if the answer to all of these questions is not very long. I have been in service to others my whole life. I am willing to put things down to lend a hand. I am willing to sacrifice time, money, food and sweat to help a person in need. It has been drilled into my soul from my parents and my understanding of what's wrong with the world. However, how much is too much? When do I do what makes me happy? When is it my turn to call on other people for help? When is it their turn to sacrifice for me? Probably never.

Not everybody has the right mentality to help other people.

Not everybody has the right outlook on life to find peace in sacrifice.

I know people have sacrificed for me, went to bat for me, and stuck their necks out for me. For those people I say, "Thank-you!" I know I don't ask for help very often, but I do appreciate it when it is there. You know who you are, and you know what you did.

The flood hasn't changed anything. I still sit and ponder what it means to do what makes you happy. I am still searching for soul for what makes it go, for what strengthens it, what makes it cry out in joy. I want to be happy. I want to be successful. I want to be well rested. I want to be different.

I need to live for me.

I need to live for now.

I need to live for a brighter future.

The waters rose. The waters receded. The lasting effect will be unknown until some distant point in the future when we look back and either smile or cry. Only time will tell what this flood has truly meant… only time!

The Flood. (August 28 [Rod & Linda])

Yesterday ended much like it began. Calmly focusing on the here and now, and being too tired to carry out the final duties of the day.

A valiant attempt was made to be productive at the end of the day yesterday, but I couldn't. So I started the new day, today, with a similar attitude.

More class, more work, more time to focus on the here and now.

Class was easy, but long.

Work started earlier than I thought it would.

Pizza was delicious, even though I shouldn't have spent the money needlessly (it's been a trend here towards the end of the month).

Shortly after work began was when the rain started.

Conversations started happening. Thought started flowing freely to not here, not now, not important. I began to reconsider my recently found peace, and started remembering the dreams that were dreamt, the thoughts that were thought, and the things that have been left unsaid.

No. It's not going to happen again. Every time I find some piece of mind worth hanging on to, it becomes messy. Things start getting brought up, words are spoken that illicit responses that are unwanted, and it's lost. The moment of piece lasted about a day, but I should have saw it coming… I couldn't hear the music. I didn't see it coming, until it was too late.

Rough day at work.

Sitting at home after dinner.

Trying to relax, trying to regain my peace… the flood is upon me.

Relaxing. Visiting. Reflecting. Water.

Through the door.

Over the floor.

Rushing.

Dirty.

Unstoppable.

The water was rushing down the steps and to my door. It valiantly tried to hold back the tide, but it was no use for the torrent. The rain had come and it was coming in.

I thought there was a drain, and escape hatch for the water to go, but it was just a façade. There was no where for it to go but in, and in it came. I opened the door and let the water in. I wasn't thinking. I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I moved stuff.

Quick, the books. The shoes. The chair. The couch. The electronics. Quick, call the landlord. I need help. I'm sinking in the water. The flood is here and I'm not sure what to do.

The rescue ship was there in a hurry.

Buckets in two.

The bailing began. Barricade the entrance, don't let the water in. We have to stop the flow before it gets any worse; then we can repair the inside.

Following their lead, I stepped back and watched them work. They had been through this before, moving gallons of water over days of work. It's no surprise they moved with lightning speed and divine grace. I stood back and watched as the ship was righted and the mess was cleaned up.

The storm was still bearing down on us, but the rescuers stood watch through the night to make sure it wouldn't happen again…

Ready… set… go!

… to be continued!

Pre-Flood. (August 27 [N/A])

Unfortunately, this is pre-dated, since I have once again fallen behind on my project. This is, in fact, being written on August 29, 2014, two days after it was supposed to have been done. So, this is my attempt at catching up by writing 3 pieces in a single night. Each of these pieces will be an attempt at telling a single story in three parts. We'll see how it goes. Hope you enjoy this as much as I am… which is just a little bit!

There is always a calm before a storm. Regardless of what type of storm it is—tornado, hurricane, emotional, volcano—there is always an eerie moment where everything is still. That was today; the calm before the flood.

I woke up feeling ok. I went through my day with no real issues: food, class, work, and home. There have been thoughts being thought, and dreams being dreamed over the past week, but I have made several attempts to push them out of my mind. They weren't getting me anywhere, since most of my thoughts are circular anyway, I decided to let them go.

This is the pre-flood, calm. I was letting things go. Trying to stay focused on the future, the here, the now and not the worries that have been coming up. Not the fears or the regrets, or the misunderstandings or the longings. None of it. I just wanted to focus on the moment and get through the day. I was at ease, for a moment. For a time I was at peace. I was able to just be in the moment, for a moment.

The calm before the storm was upon me, but just like the movies when they can't hear the creepy music when they are about to be attacked, I didn't see the clouds rolling in. I was in the moment, and the moment was sunny (and a little humid).

I woke up. Went to class. Went to work. Went to class. Went home. Easy.

I should have felt the swing though. I should have sensed something coming; something building; something about to break. My transition back to class wasn't that smooth: hit traffic, had to detour, and had to run 2 blocks to make it to class on time. Got a disparaging text during class. Was tired, sweaty, and ready for a break. So, I go home. Something was coming, but I couldn't hear the music. I couldn't hear the storm coming.

It was coming. It was just beyond the horizon. The sun began to darken, the day began to end, the focus on the moment was slipping into oblivion. The storm was formed and ready to unleash its hell on the world.

Ready… set… go!

… to be continued.

Just Keep Writing... (August 26 [Literacy Class])

Ideas.

Organization.

Voice.

Word Choice.

Sentence Fluency.

Conventions & Presentation.

Through my Primary Literacy Methods course I will learn how to be a better writer. I will deconstruct the writing process in order to gain insight into the world of writing, so that I might do a better job. Above are the "6 traits of writing," which if done well make for masterful pieces of writing.

I want to learn how to be a writer. I want to learn how to do it well. I want to make it a hobby, something I do for fun. Something I do to escape. Something I do to decompress. Something I do to stimulate my mind powers. Something I do to reach other people.

I have been told several times that I'm a good writer. I once turned in an internship journal and the professor proclaimed that it was one of the best things he has read ever. He also made similar remarks on my papers that I turned in for class. At one point he was willing to work with me on editing one of these papers in light of potentially having it published in a journal. However, I have since lost that paper somewhere (I'm pretty sure it's at my parents' house), and have lost the ability to access that journal for publication. I have the ability to do a lot with my words, but I don't know how.

Ideas: what am I writing about, what is the subject matter, what details make the story come alive?

Organization: what is the format of the piece? Paragraphs, single lines?

Voice: am I fully in the piece of writing, can I be heard throughout the lines, in between the lines, over the lines?

Word Choice: can I say things in a more vibrant or creative way?

Sentence Fluency: how does it flow? Do the words roll of the mental tongue or does it require work to get through it?

Conventions & Presentation: Is everything spelled correctly? How does it look on the page? Font type, size, color, pictures?

I know all of these things, and yet I'm still not sure I'm a good writer. I lack motivation. I lack inspiration. I lack the confidence to put pen to page over and over again. I fear revisiting work, because I don't feel as if it was very good to begin with, so there is nothing I can do to make it better. I have never edited a piece that I wrote since starting this project. I have merely let the words fall onto the page and walked away. There are pages and pages of poems, prose and story sitting on pages that are dying to be worked with. Remodeled, reworked, created new, but I don't. I write and walk away. There is no conventions to be hold. If it sucks it sucks, and if it's decent it probably sucks too!

I even got 2^nd place at the Des Moines Poetry Slam once. I probably should have gotten 3^rd, but one of the people went well over the 3 minute limit. However, nonetheless, I got to read 3 of my pieces and they liked them. I read for my friends, and they like them. I did a whole set during a show I put together and it was fun. There are shining moments of glory out there, which I should just focus on to push me forward. Then I remember the one time I went to DM Social Club's Open Circus to read a set of pieces, and it wasn't so great. The crowd wasn't into it, it was late, nobody was really there to listen, and I was well out of my element. It wasn't so great. I remember the one time I submitted pieces to be considered for publication and didn't make it. It made me a little sad, but I had no grandiose ideas of making the cut.

However, all writers will tell you that being rejected is just a part of the game. One of my professors has a bulletin board of letters of acceptance and rejection for submissions… I bet you can't guess which side has more letters on it. Our stories won't appeal to everybody, but if we let it stop us for telling them then, nobody will hear them.

I am convinced that something I have to say is going to change the life of one person in my lifetime—if it hasn't already. I just have to remember that my story is just as good as everybody elses, it is just a matter of:

Idea.

Organization.

Voice.

Word Choice.

Sentence Fluency.

Conventions & Presentation.

Keep writing world. We have work to do!