I’ve been trying to formulate something to write about this past few weeks.
I guess I’ve just been struggling lately. Not too bad, really. Just randomly anxious.
But, I’ve been really happy. I like to keep myself busy; do my schoolwork, get out of the house, ride my bike to Kroger, go for walks, hang with friends, stay outside mostly... I guess I feel antsy when I’m doing nothing.
I guess I’ve just been needing to do something.
Keep myself busy.
Get myself out of my thoughts.
That’s what I need.
I need to just live.I’m so much more happy when I’m just being crazy and hyper and not thinking. My thinking rips apart my reality. And leaves me looking at the scraps and wondering what’s real...
I’ve been starting a story idea, getting some character sketches down, mapping out possible plots. I like the idea. I hope it actually goes somewhere. I think, right now, I need to figure out if I want it to be a children’s book or something more.
I’m leaning toward children’s book. That way I don’t have to do so much of a concrete timeline.
I guess I need to figure out how to introduce the entire concept. Well, that and figure out the kinks of the main characters.
Heh. This... makes me happy, strangely. :] It makes me smile.
I like this feeling of creating something. An entire “world”. Maybe that comes from my desire for reality. Why not create a reality?
This should be... What I’m supposed to do, right?
I guess I’m afraid to come out and say it.
I’ve always thought I’d be writing when I grew up. I always knew.
Though, it makes my stomach hurt--because of thinking--that I possibly might be wrong. Bah! Stop it, Whitney.
That doesn’t matter. God’ll steer me from there. At least I’m going. Somewhere.
“It’s hard to steer a parked car.”
You know, I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone this--even those close to me... It’s kind of silly.
It was a promise I had with God when I was in middle school...
I was just starting to draw and I would get SO frustrated because I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t! It’s like I could think I could do it but my eyes and hands weren’t trained enough to truly “see” the detail. I cried a lot and tore a lot of pages then, in the aloneness of my room.
I knew that I was supposed to write. And, I wrote short stories and stuff, 100X better at writing than drawing.
To be honest, I wanted something for people to see in me. I was a shadow and a shoe-looker at school.
“If only I could draw” was my driving force.
Unconsciously, of course. I didn’t really recognize that’s why I truly wanted to draw, until much later.
[I’ve come to see that a lot of the changes that have happened to me, was me actually changing myself to fit in. Hasn’t truly worked... Hahaha! But, I feel like that “goal” has brought many good changes.]
Anyway, that’s why I would be so frustrated, thus the paper ripping...etc...
I didn’t want to write, then. Well, more like I forgot about it.
And, one day, I was sitting at my desk looking at my horrid drawings and I thought about how I wasn’t writing anymore... And, I prayed, along the lines of, “If I keep writing, will you help me with drawing?”
And He said yes.
Is that too dorky? Hahaha! I mean, He’s kept His promise... :} And, whenever I’m in an artist’s block or whatever, it helps to write something.
I don’t know. I enjoy that. It makes me feel close to Him. It especially helped me through some tough times.
