CHALLENGE ACCOMPLISHMENT # 16
THE RESOLUTION: Food from 13 countries
Wass Dining (January 16th)
http://thirteensquared13.blogspot.ca/2013/02/wass-dining.html
CHALLENGE ACCOMPLISHMENT # 17
THE RESOLUTION: Something New
Sewing course (January 18/19th)
http://thirteensquared13.blogspot.ca/2013/03/cover-story.html
CHALLENGE ACCOMPLISHMENT # 18
THE RESOLUTION: Make Something Artsy
Apron; a gift as well
My very first creation on the sewing machine! I seriously expected some wound up, unexplainable mess but I am indeed flabbergasted with my results. This apron looks pro! :) Of course I must give credit to the fact that I made this throughout my first course (See: http://thirteensquared13.blogspot.ca/2013/03/cover-story.html) so naturally I had a lot of help. But still, I am proud of myself and my first artsy creation accomplishment.
Oh and my mom is a big winner too. As a thank you for the machine, she is now the proud owner of beautiful and totally handy new apron!
Thursday, March 7, 2013
The Weight of the Issue
CHALLENGE ACCOMPLISHMENT # 1
THE RESOLUTION: Random Kindnesses
Without sounding selfish, materialistic or insecure, I can tell you that I have a very hard time parting with my 'things'. Call me a pack rat or a hoarder but understand that every action has a cause. For me, this could easily be a result of the hardest era of my lifetime. A time when I had next to nothing. Not even control over my own life. I could write you an entire book about my life and those who know my story certainly beg me for that scripture. Maybe someday, but not today.
As I began rebuilding my life and gaining power over my future, I attached a lot emotional energy to the objects I began to collect, (mostly through friendly donations). It was not just the first few necessary things; a mattress, clothing... even my text books became a symbol of my success. These things also represent something I can control in my life. They are important. The thought of losing them creates the same anxiety that the thought of losing control would. I've had to work unbelievably hard to get past that. Undoubtedly the most important and impacting self-therapy I have ever thrown myself into was an unbelievable journey around the world, just me and a backpack.
There is no better comparison to the common phrase, 'the weight of the world on your shoulders'. That backpack and everything in it became not only the literal weight on my shoulders, from all the things I believed I could not live without, but it also represented a mental and emotional weigh-down. There was the problem of always having to worry about the safety of my things. Whether at a popular beach or a rusty old bus in the middle of nowhere my mind was always partially occupied with their whereabouts. Secondly, they also presented an issue to my safety. Would someone hurt me in an attempt to take these things from me?
THE RESOLUTION: Random Kindnesses
Without sounding selfish, materialistic or insecure, I can tell you that I have a very hard time parting with my 'things'. Call me a pack rat or a hoarder but understand that every action has a cause. For me, this could easily be a result of the hardest era of my lifetime. A time when I had next to nothing. Not even control over my own life. I could write you an entire book about my life and those who know my story certainly beg me for that scripture. Maybe someday, but not today.
As I began rebuilding my life and gaining power over my future, I attached a lot emotional energy to the objects I began to collect, (mostly through friendly donations). It was not just the first few necessary things; a mattress, clothing... even my text books became a symbol of my success. These things also represent something I can control in my life. They are important. The thought of losing them creates the same anxiety that the thought of losing control would. I've had to work unbelievably hard to get past that. Undoubtedly the most important and impacting self-therapy I have ever thrown myself into was an unbelievable journey around the world, just me and a backpack.
There is no better comparison to the common phrase, 'the weight of the world on your shoulders'. That backpack and everything in it became not only the literal weight on my shoulders, from all the things I believed I could not live without, but it also represented a mental and emotional weigh-down. There was the problem of always having to worry about the safety of my things. Whether at a popular beach or a rusty old bus in the middle of nowhere my mind was always partially occupied with their whereabouts. Secondly, they also presented an issue to my safety. Would someone hurt me in an attempt to take these things from me?
Monday, March 4, 2013
Cover Story
CHALLENGE ACCOMPLISHMENT # 5
THE RESOLUTION: Something New
When I was a little girl my dark Shirley Temple locks were always topped with elaborate hats, bows and headbands glittering with gems and lace to match the colourful and frilly dresses I wore everywhere. This was generally my moms doing, by which I mean, she actually made them.
This may explain why my teenage years were spent in oversized jeans, ripped shirts held together by safety pins and metal chains hanging from my pocket. My hair also matched my outfits in an assortment of multicolour do-it-yourself Manic Panic hues. (No pictures of this phase will be included for my own good.) The span of my creativity did not stop there. I designed and sewed on all my own patches depicting my favourite punk bands and skateboarding brands with loud, kaleidoscopic recklessness. Yet, I never did entertain a single simple task on my mom's much adored sewing machine. So decades later now when my Mom gifted me a fancy new machine, I am unable to do much more than turn it on and stare at its complexity.
THE RESOLUTION: Something New
When I was a little girl my dark Shirley Temple locks were always topped with elaborate hats, bows and headbands glittering with gems and lace to match the colourful and frilly dresses I wore everywhere. This was generally my moms doing, by which I mean, she actually made them.
This may explain why my teenage years were spent in oversized jeans, ripped shirts held together by safety pins and metal chains hanging from my pocket. My hair also matched my outfits in an assortment of multicolour do-it-yourself Manic Panic hues. (No pictures of this phase will be included for my own good.) The span of my creativity did not stop there. I designed and sewed on all my own patches depicting my favourite punk bands and skateboarding brands with loud, kaleidoscopic recklessness. Yet, I never did entertain a single simple task on my mom's much adored sewing machine. So decades later now when my Mom gifted me a fancy new machine, I am unable to do much more than turn it on and stare at its complexity.
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