That one orange tree...

As I look out the window, the river flows to my right. Faster than usual because of the recent rain, but not fast enough to create rage. The landscape is painted green, as is my giant mug filled with steaming pumpkin coffee. The trees in my view have failed to give up their green color, making me wonder if they need more time, or are just being stubborn. I've been told that everything happens with time; although, I've heard plenty of useless life lessons. Maybe I should replace useless with non-applicable. Anyway, I look back outside. A maple tree stands burning orange amongst its green surroundings. This tree could not wait. This tree did not want to wait. This tree did not rely on anything but itself to stand so proud and so strong. Seeing this tree makes me wonder why anyone would want to blend together, much like the green trees are doing. So often people try to simply fit in, only to be left floating in a puddle of disappointment and self doubt. There is a distinct visual difference between those conformed to their surroundings and those who stand on their own, I've realized this long before sitting down to look outside. I've recently learned the obvious; that no one has control over myself except for me. No one controls what I say, how I act, or what I'm thinking. At the end of the day, the only person I have to report to for evaluation is myself. The only critic I listen to is myself. I have stopped looking elsewhere for answers simply because they are all in my head and because they are the answers I want to hear. Looking outside of my own mind only brings disappointment and usually puts me in a place I would rather not be. The only thing that gives me contentment is myself. The one thing I am most proud of is myself. As long as this keeps up, I will never be regretful. 

I never realized how capable my mind was. Capable of soaking in information and making perfect use of it. My mind is full. It has been a sponge, soaking up every morsel of life. It is ready...for anything. 

The small things...

I think it's true what they say. As you get older, you learn to appreciate things that you may not have when you were younger. Now, I'm not sure if recent changes in my life have sprung this upon me, or if it truly does come with age. Either way, something inside of me has been searching for every detail on this earth that was previously overlooked. Every breath is taken with appreciation of the healthy life I was given, every conversation is remembered and valued, and every minute is spent looking around me as if someone is about to take me away from this moment. Nothing is more impressive to me than the beauty of nature. And I can tell you honestly that this has not always been important to me. Something over the last few months has forced me to take notice of these things and I'm glad it did. My favorite place to go in the city is to the lake, which is about 18 blocks straight east of where I live. Not only do I get to enjoy the long walk there, but once I arrive I instantly feel like I'm at home. I look out onto miles and miles of water as the sun shines down, causing a calm feeling to take over my body. This is the same lake I see from home, but there is a much different scene behind me. It's the best of both worlds; I can look out onto the lake and enjoy the serenity, and as I turn around I am faced with a world of skyscrapers and activity. It really cannot get any better.

As of right now, though, I am still at home. Every day I try to pack as much into these quickly passing hours as I can. I get out and walk mainly to enjoy the simple bustle that is seen in this town, and also to soak up as much of this fall season as possible. Nothing makes me happier than feeling a cool breeze on my face and looking at the trees as they change to their shades of orange and red. This is why fall is my absolute favorite time of year (not to mention it's football season and an excuse to eat everything pumpkin). I'm feeling ready, though. Ready to leave this place of security. Ready to walk in my apartment, by myself, and take a deep breath. The life I left there nearly 2 weeks ago is gone and will be replaced with a fresh one. As we all know, life throws things at us that we aren't necessarily prepared for. Because of this, I left a good amount of sadness and anger in the city, some of which trailed me home only to diminish shortly after my arrival. I was given a chance to realize that I've always depended on others for my own happiness, definitely not something I take pride in. I am standing on my own two feet now, no one else's. The space around me is empty and I feel as though I can breathe. Unfortunately, the rest of my feelings will not translate into words. The only translation I have is a smile. I will try to explain myself...another day. 

In the mean time, my new best friends are independence and happiness. They are willing and able to take me where I want to go. 

Another Tuesday...

Tuesday was always the worst day of the week. Monday meant a fresh start, Wednesday was the halfway mark, Thursday was almost Friday, and Friday was just Friday. Tuesday seemed to have a haze of monotony over it the way fog hangs over a calm lake, except not as peaceful. Of course, Tuesday only came this way back when I was stuck. Stuck in a full time job behind a desk, stuck in a house in my home town, and stuck in a routine that made me feel way older than 21 years. I remember wondering if this would be it for the rest of my life, hoping it wasn't. Although daily visits with my family made me feel safe and comfortable, I still knew there had to be more out there for me to see. I hadn't finished college, and feelings of failure were not uncommon for this reason. I want to be able to tell my kids that their mom did finish college, she does have an education, it is important. But not only that, I found myself craving a sense of accomplishment, something that seemed to be drifting further and further away from me as each day passed. I remember the day I committed. I stood in that little house after doing the daily tasks that it took to maintain a household, something that I did enjoy and took much pride in. But something inside me that day just cracked. I felt myself almost literally throw my hands up in surrender and from that day on I never once looked back to see what I had left behind.   

Fast forward to today, another Tuesday. This Tuesday, however, is very different from those in the past. Although it is a cloudy day, I feel no sense of boredom or uncertainty. I am soaking up every second spent at home, knowing that a week from now I will be consumed by my studies, a new internship, and the city life. Once again I am sitting here in silence, one of my favorite sounds in the world. Mainly because it allows my mind to wander to places I never thought possible and because of this I have learned to enjoy every second of my thoughts and every moment of my life. As you may have learned, I am not a cookie-cutter life kind of girl. Creativity runs through my veins like water rushes down a stream after a rainstorm. It is my outlet. An outlet that cannot be explored from behind a desk or in front of a television. My eager face was hidden behind a wall of insecurity and doubt. That wall still exists, but has somehow diminished to something that is more manageable. I don't know where or when I will find my place to settle, and to be honest, I don't want to know.

My mom has a small statue of four birds sitting on a branch, symbolizing her four daughters. One bird, however, is spreading its wings, about to leave the branch. She always told me, "This one reminds me of you" and finally, I can agree with her. 

Another morning walk. 

The beginning of a good thing...

Here I sit. It is a Monday night in late September and the only noise I hear is the humming of the ceiling fan and the sound of my fingers running across the keyboard. I am in a place where peace takes over my mind and there is a constant feeling of love in the air. I am home. This is a place that I have been unfamiliar with for the past 3 months. Today I am on day 9 of my vacation home and I feel as though time has stopped; something I quickly realize that I need to take advantage of before the clock starts ticking again. Nine days ago I made my way back to my hometown in Michigan.  A town so small everyone knows who I am, details of my personal life, and most likely what I had for dinner last night (which was a delicious toasted tomato sandwich, by the way). Now this can get nauseating, but you do have options when growing up in a small town. You can let it consume you, or you can promise yourself that you won’t stop trying until you make your own dreams come true. I chose Option B without hesitation.

In 6 days I will be transported to the train station and will exit this world of corn fields, pick-up trucks, and friendly waves. I will make my way back to my sanctuary in the sky; my second home in Chicago. After making the decision to return to college nearly 6 months ago, my life has been a random mess of phone calls, emails, paperwork, and emotions. Looking back, it’s all a blur, as I knew it would be. Somehow, though, on July 2^nd, I signed the papers for my studio apartment on the 32^nd floor of a brand new complex in downtown Chicago. This decision was easy as studios were limited in the city, and this one happened to be 3 short blocks from my school, The Illinois Institute of Art. Don’t ask me how or why, but the entire process was calm for me. Everything seemed to fall into place and before I knew it I was sitting in my windowsill, looking at my fantastic views of Chicago, a place I’ve wanted to be for a long time. I couldn’t help but smile and say out loud, “You made it.”

This is not the whole story. I could go on for days and days with details about my move, but I won’t. Although, there are crucial elements of my story (and by story I mean life), but I will save those for future reference.  I remind myself every single day how lucky I am to be able to pursue this dream and I feel as though I am drenched in my family’s pride. I never want to forget this journey; consequently, this is the beginning of my blog.

Taken during a morning walk in Michigan.