Five Years

Three days ago was the fifth anniversary since my LDS baptism. I was 18 and shy but bright-eyed, and absolutely confident in my decision. Since then I've learned a lot.

I've learned how fulfilling and comforting leading a religious life can be, to be able to tap into my spirituality and receive peace from a source I'm sure is not of this world. I've learned to see others as equally loved and trusted by God as I came to believe I am. I've learned that church isn't really a place to worship but to grow in some of the most uncomfortable ways. I've learned to be patient with fellow believers when their love for obedience overshadows their love for their neighbor. I've learned that we're all in a process, and that the process isn't linear or uniform for anybody. I've learned to strike up conversations with strangers on the street and to listen with compassion when these awkward encounters turn into heartfelt demonstrations of pain and hardship. I've learned to sit in living rooms with families and to reach out into heaven for the right words to speak to souls looking for answers, when even I don't know those answers they need. I've learned about quiet resignation when my plans fall apart. I've learned about patience and gratitude and long periods of waiting, waiting, waiting. I've learned to create friendships with people I would have never otherwise pursued friendships with, acquainting myself with many different perspectives along the way. I've learned a lot of doctrine, and about how complicated it can seem but how simple it truly is. I've learned about principles, how they never fail. About charity, how it never fails. I've learned to make things work with my family, to be an example to them, work to become better for them, and love them just as they are. I've learned to teach, to understand the scriptures, to understand. I've learned to step outside of myself, and to be so malleable to whatever new lesson I felt God was trying to teach me every day. I learned to stretch myself in ways I didn't know I could, and felt so glad about the person I felt myself becoming. I could never transmit through words or any other means the depth of some of the spiritual experiences I've lived. I've learned who God is and who I am in relation to Him, among so many other beautiful things...

...and at some point during these five years I also learned that all of that—the peace, the assurance, the glad hardship, the elation—could be drowned out in the most bitter bout of depression I've ever lived through. That five years later, all the goodness I lived through and cherished would feel like a stranger's memory I somehow scored an intimate viewing of. Now I'm not really sure what I believe because I confused myself trying to put the pieces back together, and I'm not sure I can ever feel the way I once did, but somehow, through all the bitterness, I am so glad I took that bold step five years ago. This is my experience, and I could never truly resent it.

Why I didn't serve a mission -

Anyone that has known me for the past five years knows that serving an LDS mission was an absolute dream of mine since my conversion. It's now 2017 and I have not gone a mission. I probably won't at all.

I'm not writing this because I feel the need to explain myself, and I don't think anyone is really looking for an explanation anyway. I'm mostly writing it because I have this constant need to share and be vulnerable. For some reason I feel like doing so helps me grow. I've never been good at being some mysterious entity like I wish I could be. You know, like those strange people who never update their social media and have the same profile picture for years? Truly magical beings. But I'm just not one of them. I tend to keep to myself a lot but when given the right platform and given the right state of mind, I can be incredibly open and honest and embarrassing. I feel silly for being this way, but as I said, it tends to stimulate a lot of growth for me. It keeps me uncomfortable enough to keep moving.

Toward the end of 2014 I decided I wanted to serve a mini-mission. I had been attending community college for the past year and a half and as much as I was doing well, my heart was set on a mission. I couldn't take it anymore and decided to take a semester off, talk to my bishop, and do a little test run until I could serve a full-time mission. It all felt inspired.

The mini-mission was a blessing in many ways. I loved it. I love the people I served with and the experiences I had. For a whole month I finally felt like I was doing exactly what I was meant to be doing all along. Talking to people about God and His love is the only thing that has ever made true sense to me, it felt so natural. Very little of it seemed challenging to me, I was experiencing the highest of spiritual highs, and even my failures felt like happy news. It was all just a process of learning and growing. I think because I didn't have a lot of time to really analyze all that I was experiencing, I was able to just run with it despite any strain.

However, at some point I became really confused. I felt exhausted in ways that didn't make sense. All my feelings felt muted at some points. I didn't understand how I could be having the time of my life while simultaneously feeling like I wanted to die. Sometimes my companions would look over at me in the backseat of our car and ask if I was okay. "Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry about it." I knew I was fine, but I didn't feel fine.

It wasn't really until weeks after I returned home that it started to settle into my mind that maybe things were a bigger deal than they seemed. Other things started to happen that continued the stream of disappointments. I suffered silently for a good chunk of time until I finally broke and started trying to open up to people. Last year I received counseling from a woman at LDS Family Services and she reassured me that if I couldn't serve a mission, it didn't make me a failure. After holding on to wanting to serve a mission for so long, I finally was ready to admit to myself that maybe I didn't want to serve after all. I did, and I desired it for years, but not if the stress of it was going to subconsciously tap into all of my extremes and make me suffer. I wanted to change the world and help so many people, but would I be able to sustain it?

I realize maybe I have lacked faith all along. I realize that others with similar tendencies have successfully served missions even if it came with great amounts of trial. I don't know what it is about God's plan for me that requires a different story than what I had imagined. I still understand very little of my experience and I don't have any nice conclusion to tie a knot at the end of this, I just need to put it out there publicly. Finally. I don't want to own any of this baggage anymore, I want to move on. Maybe if you're reading this, you want to talk to me about it. Offer a similar experience, your perspective. Anything. I'm here. I'm open. I'm tired of suffering alone.

Michelle, my belle

Whenever I walk home from church I make a point of taking this one street that is full of dreamy, perfect houses that make me feel like I’m in a movie. Certainly if I had to live in this city all my life, I’d like a house on this street. It always feels like spring walking down it, no matter the season, and it never fails to cheer up my step and bring a smile to both my face and my heart, as cheesy as that may sound. I'm glad I had my camera with me this past Sunday so that I could finally document and write about it. This is something I don’t want to forget.

So I didn't feel quite comfortable taking pictures of the actual houses this time around. But I think I will go back soon and maybe make a photo project out of admiring my favorite details of this street, including the dainty, dream-like houses. Maybe I can even get a snap of that cute elderly couple that sometimes work in their garden together. Maybe I can actually manage to capture a close-to-accurate depiction of the charm this little place has, for the sake of long-term remembrance.

When I look back on my times on this street, I want to be able to remember the awe and wonder that it brought to my mind. I want to remember how excited I would get at any chance to walk home just to experience this once more. I don't want to forget how some days walking past there felt like I was on a pioneer trek, not because of the weather or the distance, but because of how I felt; absolutely alone or held up by angels, weak or brave, angry or just plain confused. I want to remember the early seminary mornings that feel so long behind me now. I don't want to forget how it felt walking past there on my way to school at 7:20am. I should have felt sleepy or tired, but I actually felt invigorated. I felt grateful and hopeful. Every single time. The sun seemed to literally shine brighter, the flowers were merrier, the rain was bolder. The fog felt light and loving all around. The whole world seemed to greet me and congratulate me on how beautifully the seed of faith was being nurtured and growing inside me.

 I would absolutely love to remember.
x

I need not fear.

Every six months all the members of the LDS Church gather to listen to living prophets and apostles of Jesus Christ. The messages they share, which they prayerfully prepare in advance, are special and relevant to our times. For example, today I heard many things that I almost felt were directed straight at me! Things about being patient with myself, gaining spiritual confidence, being quicker to forgive, and working always in kindness. I feel so uplifted now, as my spirit had started to become weak in the past little while.

I know it’s not popular or typically seen as a positive quality to be so religious as I’ve become in the past few years, but I’ve learned to be brave through it. I’ve learned to be okay with standing constantly at odds with most of my peers. When I first joined the Church, I would talk about my newfound faith through my elbows! I would share what I was learning to everyone and at all times. But I have to admit that since, I’ve felt broken many times. Sometimes the message I share seems to fall on deaf ears, other times its been completely mocked. More often than not, it’s just difficult to even begin to share it because I know that most people aren’t “ready” to understand. And I care and love and respect the experiences of others too much to just come rushing in with this storm of a message I carry in my heart. I feel too responsible. I feel inadequate in being able to explain it all, every bit I’ve been able to learn and savor and learn again. I’ve felt too inadequate to show the world that this message is actually more relevant and tangible than it first appears to be, that each one of us actually already carries the faculties within to become immersed in such a cause and to be so wonderfully transformed by fighting for it! I feel too inadequate to explain the spiritual manifestations that I’ve received, because they are too personal and too sacred, and everyone needs to choose to experience them for themselves. Everyone can experience them for themselves. But, as with everything in this life, they have to choose. We all have to choose.

Well, I have surely chosen. And by choosing to believe in Christ, a prophet and Savior whom many have learned to doubt because His very followers have failed to represent Him fairly, I also choose to stand at odds. And that’s okay. I will try to get over my fears and inadequacies and I will just try to explain in simple words what I’ve come to know. The best way that I can do that is like this: honestly and stripping myself of all protection from scorn. Exposing my biggest weaknesses and fears. Vulnerably. I will get over thinking that I have to do it alone, for He who sent me is my very source of strength and He has shown me time and time again that I need not fear.

Sharing this big ol’ chunk of my heart publicly is all I can do for now. ♥

Lady Stardust

 If there is one thing I surely want to remember about this summer is the amount of time I got to spend with my little sister. The fact that we're eight years apart in age is becoming less and less evident in the way we treat each other and admittedly also in that she's now taller than me. Yikes! But boy, do I love every bit of her. When we're together it's easy for me to completely let my guard down and act plain silly. We laugh so long and loud sometimes that I'm sure our parents are starting to become concerned.

This summer we beat boredom by taking pictures, eating farmers market bread, making fake movie trailers and other videos, filming our parents doing weird stuff, making fun of our parents doing weird stuff, boycotting against the viewing of telenovelas in our house, listening to Buddy Holly and Gepe, watching Rugrats for hours, baking chocolatey desserts and devouring them, practicing our Português (her favorite word is "abacaxi"), and looking up some seriously bizarre things on Google. Did I mention we laughed a lot?

Her existence is living, earnest evidence of God's love and involvement in my life. Without a doubt.

I feel sorry I didn't learn to appreciate her more earlier. I let the excitement of finally having a little sister and a new best friend die away as the years rolled on. I hope that I'll be able to make up all that time to her by loving her and honoring her virtues. Let me tell you, she has many. She is a light to the world, a beacon of hope, and the biggest blessing my family has received. I truly believe that. I find evidences of this truth every day as I witness the wonderful, graceful way in which she brings everyone together, whether intentionally or not. I especially see it in her unconditional forgiving nature. I am grateful for her wisdom, and the way she constantly calls me out in my pride and humbles me with her simple words. I pray that she will always stand for truth and goodness, no matter how much the rest of her changes.

 Thank God for this little girl whose head is constantly somewhere in the vastness of space; seeking, creating, learning, and loving as she goes.

(Photos taken on the fourth of July, 2014.)

Being sick is humbling.

Being sick is always a humbling experience, and for that, I am grateful. Weird, huh? But it's true. When I am sick, I am always forced to slow down. Lay down. Relax. Except...I hate relaxing. Unless I am daydreaming or in need of a nap, I hate just lying there doing nothing. Being sick, weak, and in pain is the perfect reminder that I don't have control over everything.

Of course for my stubborn self, being sick also seems to be the perfect motivation to get more done. For example, on Saturday night I decided I wanted to make homemade granola. Even though my entire body craved peace and rest, I prepared and baked that granola non-stop. Afterward I cleaned up the mess I had made without second thought (hallelujah!) and I even cleaned the pantry. I know. What a freak. I would have washed the dishes too if my mom had let me...

Unfortunately, I did have to miss out on Stake Conference because of this. Sunday morning I woke up feeling extra weak but determined to at least watch the live broadcast of the conference at my local church building. I thought there wouldn't be many people, but the place was packed! I sunk into my seat hoping to be able to keep my illness to myself for the whole two hours. I succeeded, and though towards the end it became more difficult to sit still, being able to feel the Spirit in such a special way was worth it. Always worth it.




And what a beautiful day it was! Since it was freezing inside the chapel (as it always seems to be), I walked straight out of there craving nothing but the sun and its warmth. The moment I realized I was out in full sunlight and actually enjoying it, I knew this whole being-sick deal was something special to learn from. On the way home all I craved was a warm bed to nap on, and I promise, though it might sound crazy, I entered my room and frantically delighted in every passing second for the next half hour. I snuggled in my bed as if I had never snuggled in a bed before. I snapped pictures and scribbled hurriedly in my thought journal everything I could feel so I wouldn't forget. I simply felt joyful.

How is it that we can feel full of light when everything should be darkness and distress? I only attribute it to the Light of Christ. The beautiful, simple knowledge of things as they really are. I am grateful for a body that fights to heal itself, and I am grateful for a spirit that is bound, through faith, to rest in due time in the celestial mansions of a loving Heavenly Father.

 I am grateful for sleepy, sickly eyes; for an aching chest and a sore throat. I am grateful for darkness in contrast with warmth and light. I am grateful for people who feel the same kinds of things that I do, and longingly try to explain it all in words during simple but powerful church meetings. I am grateful to be a witness and participant of the miracles of this life.

P-Day, Temple Day + an update, finally

I've been wanting to start using my blog more often for a while, yet I tend to put limitations on myself. "I don't have good pictures to upload", "I don't have anything interesting to write", "I won't be able to keep up constantly with it as always, why even try", etc etc. But I really need to learn how to override those thoughts with motivation. I'm so keen on documenting my life in every medium possible and blogging is one of my favorite ways. I love to pair my photos with words, and I'm learning how to be more brave about doing so. Something I love about blogging is being able to come back and re-read old posts that are neatly archived and labeled. The Nostalgia Queen inside of me deeply appreciates a good archive of memories.

So here's something: I had the opportunity to visit the Sacramento LDS Temple just yesterday. The missionaries in my ward were going and I enthusiastically managed to tag along. The Sister missionaries are super great about involving me, and I'm ever grateful for all they do just to help me be closer to Christ. They're the sweetest. <3

It was a bit of a stressful day for everyone, mostly because of time. It was the day before transfers and all the missionaries were scatter-brained trying to fit in all their P-Day activities and preparations into a tight schedule. Yet, the strength we all received at the Temple, and the strength that is constantly available to us because of the Gospel kept us going joyously.

   

I wish I had been better at photographing and writing about all the missionaries I've been able to meet since I started attending church. I feel like I haven't been doing my job and that I've wasted lots of potential. Here's to changing that! All the missionaries I've had the privilege of meeting these 2+ years have been amazing and so unique, every single one. I no longer see full-time missionaries as perfect angels that always know exactly what to do, but as faithful young men and women who simply and enthusiastically seek to do God's will, no matter how imperfect they are at it. It doesn't get better than that. I learn lots from just observing them as they serve and I am grateful for being able to work alongside with them as often as I get to.

After doing some temple work, the sweet sister who gave us a ride to Sacramento took me with her to Deseret Book. Every time I enter that store I honestly, truly feel like it's the only store I ever need to shop at. Who needs food and clothes when you have so many cool Gospel books at your disposal!? I always end up leaving just wishing I could have bought everything. As weird as it may sound, I hope I will probably always feel that way and never lose my enthusiasm for Gospel-related things and learning. I bought some books as gifts, some stickers, a dark chocolate bar because it was "Under 1.99!" (and because it's chocolate....duh), and the cutest little notebook whose cover I'm convinced was inspired by me, me, and only me. "You had me at daily scripture study". *-*

After the great adventure at Deseret Book, we went to a market called KP International. They have all sorts of food and things from different cultures and my favorite part was that they played The Beatles and Creedence Clearwater Revival while I was there. That alone puts it on my list of top favorite places in Sacramento (after the Temple and Desert Book, of course). Super cool! We came back to the temple just in time to take some photos before heading back home. I took a few of the missionaries from my ward, and then we had a sister attempt to take some with me in the picture too but...er, let's just say that next time I should put my camera on auto-focus just to make it easier on everyone! Haha. On the two-hour ride home I ate a greasy thing called a Peroski (?) filled with potatoes and mushrooms, and I made a mental note never to eat one of those things again. Not that it wasn't good, but I could just feel my arteries being clogged up with every bite. 

Anyway, my favorite parts of the trip back home were writing and drawing in Hermana Cuesta's "Bye-book" (kind of like a yearbook for missionaries), and being amused by the Elders trying to pass us on the freeway various times and failing hilariously. I hung out with the Manteca Sisters for a while as I waited for Sister Robinson and the Tracy Sisters to pick me up. Once we got to Tracy, we all headed straight to the church building to e-mail. It's always neat watching the missionaries write their friends and families back home. It gives me a little glimpse of what it's like when my friends serving out in the world write to me. :)

I mostly sat

 around and watched everyone type, joke around, and sign each others' "Bye Books". Again, I felt grateful for being able to spend so much time with missionaries. I never want to not be Ward Missionary, never ever.

After a rushed e-mailing hour we were finally able to take some pictures wearing our Book of Mormon T-shirts! That's one of the main reasons why I stayed with them all day, so that I could snap just a few shots of them all together before they were transferred. We missed Hermana Thomas! <3 And the missionaries really do love their T-shirts.

 "Do something Asian," I said, and they obeyed. It's no surprise, though. They are missionaries after all!

 And that's right about where my day with the missionaries ended. It'll be strange not having some of them around next transfer, but that's how it always goes in the great and wonderful missionary work. We have to be in constant motion, working, serving, teaching, loving. As for me, I will be adding documenting and blogging more into the mixture. It'll help me remember more and remembering more will help me be filled with gratitude. That's something I have been learning about a lot in the past few months. I'm learning to be more constantly aware and grateful. 

Resilient and grateful. <3

shift

I don't know where to start but there's so much going on and at same time life feels like I'm stuck inside this photo. 
 

    I am trying to document my life more, and in more organic ways. Sometimes I photograph, sometimes I journal, and sometimes I make mental notes acknowledging the risk of them being forgotten. I don't need to remember everything, right?

(All photos taken on a lazy Saturday, April 19, 2014.)

Recently I've been listening to a lot of music that may or may not be slightly out of my character, but it's slowly becoming the soundtrack to my life and I love every bit of it.

hello again! + an actual recipe (sorta)

I haven't updated this thing in a year or so and I only feel slightly guilty.
Okay, no, the truth is, I always think about updating it, because coming back here to read my old posts is always a neat experience. Sometimes it's way too emotional and nostalgic, other times it's simply motivating. Motivating to do more, to enjoy more, to document more.

This year I have a few really big goals, and a few smaller goals that I hope to add to and expand from along the way. My bigger goals will probably help me accomplish my smaller ones, and I'm glad that it is so. It's less stressful and overwhelming that way. One of my smaller goals is to document more of my life photographically, and to accompany it with my own words on this blog. I also want to start a 52 weeks self-portrait project. I think that will be mostly therapeutic for me. To wrap it up: I really just want to document more for the sake of documenting. My future self will appreciate the effort, and that's really what I'm looking forward to. If you happen to read this, I hope you enjoy what I have to offer.

So, another one of my smaller goals is to start preparing meals for myself more. I tend to just slightly modify whatever my mom makes to fit my taste/needs, or simply grab whatever I can find that looks tasty (fruit, mostly) and eat as is. I like eating that way, but I also think it would be beneficial to learn how to prepare actual meals that others would want to eat. I also want to figure out a more basic, wholesome, clean kind of diet for myself, and for that I need to start getting out of my comfort zone and experimenting. I think pretty much all my goals require getting out of my comfort zone...*cringes just a little* Anyway, here are some photos of a delicious quinoa recipe that I came up with on the spot. It may have been subconsciously inspired by stuff I've seen online, but I couldn't really tell you for sure.

I make my quinoa very simply. Rinse, bring to a boil, let simmer, serve. No salt.

I prepared some cilantro and jicama to add to the quinoa once it was done.

Once the quinoa was ready to serve, I added the jicama, sprinkled black pepper, and topped with the cilantro. To my surprise -- it was good! It was even approved by my little sister. Yay.

I'm pretty sure I spent way more time photographing this than actually eating it.
Somehow I am totally okay with that (okay, yes, I'm also used to it).

Make your own quinoa and share your recipe with me!
xo

Maybe I’m a little naive

So, maybe I’m a little naive for saying this but you know when people say, “You can’t be in love just after a few days!” when they hear little teeny couples telling each other “I love you” like it’s no big deal? Well. I get that. I really do. Sometimes it’s really easy just to spit those words out without thinking twice. I’ve been there. I get it.

But….I mean, why couldn’t it be true? Sometimes two people meet at just the right time, at the precise moment in which they are just ready for each other. Life prepares us for certain things at a certain time. Some things really aren’t coincidences and I firmly believe that.

So what if they want to say, “I love you” or skip ahead to “When we’re married…”s? So what if they want to be affectionate after a short period of time?

Just because it’s infatuation doesn’t mean that it can’t also be love, or whatever-you-wanna-call-it. I also don’t understand when people say, “Oh, I thought I was in love but it obviously wasn’t real” just because it didn’t work out. Well, what if it doesn’t work out? That doesn’t erase everything that happened or anything that was felt.

Maybe it’s super immature of me to think these things. Maybe I’m just a total romantic and refuse to let the world ruin that for me. Maybe I want to be able to tell a boy that I love him without feeling like the whole world is staring at me and scoffing at my silliness.

So maybe I fell in love with a boy in a matter of just a few days. Who’s to tell me what I do or do not feel?

So maybe it will work out and in a few years I will have to chance to laugh at life’s face and recite the famous little words from The Smiths' song that go, “How can they see the love in our eyes, and still they don’t believe us?” happily as I skip around the block with The Love of My Life.

Of course, there is always the chance that it won’t work out. So let’s say it doesn’t. That doesn’t mean that it wasn’t true and right and real (or what-have-you) in its moment.

But who knows, maybe I’m just a little naive for feeling this way after all.  

(image source: simplewritings)

Let me share a lil' something about friendship

(Relationships in general, really.)

“True love ‘beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.’ So Christ loved us, and that is how He hoped we would love each other.”

—Elder Jeffrey R. Holland (source)

When you meet someone who changes your life, when that someone cares for you despite all your flaws, when that someone understands and shares your faith, when that someone reminds you of your divine nature and worth, when that someone is willing to support you in all that you do, when that someone inspires you to become better and to fulfill your potential as a child of God, when that someone shows you enough maturity and willingness to be your friend....the very least you could do is cherish them with all your heart.

It isn't about making rash promises to each other.
It isn't about planning for the future.

There isn't any time to worry about how your friendship will be in the future. There isn't any time to think, "Is it worth it?". There just isn't any time for that. Because it doesn't matter.

It is about the Now. It is about what you are doing for each other Now. It is about the unconditional love and support that you can offer each other Now. It is about constantly praying that you will have all it takes to make sure you can fulfill your individual mission towards this person. Now.

Heavenly Father doesn't put people in our lives just for fun. He doesn't put people in our lives for us to make each other worse. He puts people in our lives for us to uplift one another, to pull each other through the thick of things, "to bear one another's burdens" (Mosiah 18:8), as we promise to in our baptismal covenant. He wants us to learn from one another and to love one another (John 13:34). Loving one another can take a lot of work, but it wouldn't be a commandment if it didn't have a special and specific purpose.


For us to characterize an important relationship as anything less than divine would be wrong. For us to treat it like anything less would be defiling it.

With steadfastness and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, we will be able to fulfill our missions in life, we will able have better relationships. With the same principles, we will eventually be able to rejoice in eternal life (2 Nephi 31:20).

All it takes is true desire, willingness, and pure love. It takes ever-growing faith and constant prayer.

It takes a change of heart and mind:

 2 And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by therenewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God. - Romans 12:2

Once we have this change of heart and mind, we will be able to recognize what our Father expects of us. With a change of heart and mind, will be able to recognize how to treat certain relationships and what is best for one another.

It it my humble testimony that our Father in Heaven knows us perfectly. He listens to our needs, hears our prayer, and answers them. We have to keep a faithful and careful watch of how he is going to make those answers manifest. Once we find those answers, it is our duty to make the best of it. If our Father sees fit that the answer to our prayers should be made manifest in the form of a person in our lives, we must make sure we care for, support, and cherish that person.

It is my testimony that the Restored Gospel of Jesus Christ is true. I know this because it has proven itself to be good in my life. The light of Christ has absolutely transformed everything in me, and continues to do so. I love my Savior and I will continue to cultivate my relationship with Him, by following His commandments and feasting upon His word. I share this beautiful knowledge that I've been able to acquire through Him, in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

All the little children

Yesterday I started thinking about children and I pretty much mentally planned how I’m going to raise my own future kids. I couldn’t even sleep for a while just thinking about it all. Of course, I know raising children is going to be a lot more difficult than I like to think and I know that I’m not going to be the ~awesomely perfect~ mom I hope to be. I know half of the stuff I’m planning probably isn’t even going to happen.

But here ya go, an ever-growing list of the things I have in mind for the future little boys and girls that I hope to raise:

• No television in our home. We might have a TV in some corner of an attic or our garage for when we want to watch quality movies or home-videos.
• Limited amount of toys. I want my kids to cultivate a big imagination, enough to create their own toys and means of entertainment. If we have toys, they will be simple toys that require lots of critical-thinking.
• I will be strict enough with them that they will grow up learning self-discipline skills so that when they reach18 they'll be well-organized and fully competent adults ready to succeed in the world. Unlike a certain someone I know (cough, me).
• They’re going to do all their own chores and clean up all their own messes. We might even have a “chores calender” so that each of them will know what they have to do everyday. Part of learning organizational skills and self-discipline.
• My children will read books. Lots of them. Beside holy scripture and religious material, I will encourage my kids to read all types of books appropriate to their ages.
• My children will pick a musical instrument of their choice to learn from an early age. If there’s one thing that I regret (for the lack of a better word) about my childhood is never having pressed my parents to let me learn to play an instrument. Of course, money was a problem for us at the time, but I still could’ve learned another way. My kids will learn to play an instrument of their choice whether they want to or not. Again, discipline. Once they’re of age they can choose to quit if they truly don’t like it.
• Similarly and for the same reasons as the last bullet point, I will enroll my children in a sport of their choice.
• My children will naturally be involved in church activities and the like, and I will raise them with the principles of my religion (LDS), but will always encourage them to do critical-thinking and “soul-searching” of their own. Really the best thing I can do is be a great example for them to follow.
• Instead demanding respect, patience, or anything like that from them because I’m their parent, I will show respect, patience, etc., to them as their parent. Another example of leading by example, I guess. 

I will (hopefully) be adding to this list as I think of things since there are definitely a lot of aspects of parenting that I have yet to consider, but this is will be it for now. c:

And here's the only picture that I have to prove that I actually like children, as opposed to what most people seem to think:

My little cousin "Joshi" and I. It was taken in 2008 or 2009, uh, I can't really remember. 

And I promise I didn't pinch her so she would smile! (ehem)

xx

Homeschooling: Week 1

So a few weeks ago I finally starting teaching my little cousin at home in preparation for the big bad Kindergarten! Here's the post about how it all started.

I've been teaching her most days for the past weeks and it's been going quite excellent. I documented the whole first week in photographs (and admittedly stopped doing so the second week, so there probably won't be much more about this for a while).

Day 1: Learning basic colors, matching, finding colors in nature, and a little snack

Day 2: Basic shapes, drawing + coloring, forming shapes with pipe-cleaners

Day 3: Revising colors, learning numbers 1-5

Day 4: Revising numbers 1-5 by counting groups of objects, introduction to the alphabet

Day 5: Learning numbers 1-12, revising colors, recognizing colors from gummy bears as a Friday treat

I was so impressed at how much she was able to retain everything she learned each day. She caught on to all the names of shapes, colors, and numbers 1-12 so quickly! Fun fact: That wooden clock in the first picture of Day 5 is actually mine from when I was in elementary. My parents bought it at IKEA and it was a huge help for me in learning how to tell time, so I was pleased to have found it for another little one's benefit.

So the first week went great. My cousin was so excited about learning, even after some difficulties she faced with the alphabet. The second week and going on into this week, we're still trying to get past those difficulties with patience. We've slowed down considerably, which I hope will help in her remembering and understand the alphabet.

Which brings me to something I've been wondering: Is it normal for the alphabet to be so difficult to learn? For some reason she can name all sorts of things, including "animals" and "elephant" and even a couple of phrases, but easily forgets the one-syllable names of her ABCs. She can sing the song well, and adorably so, but when I ask her what the letter "A" is called, she blanks out and struggles to get any sound out. But like I said, we're taking it slow and we're both exerting a whole lot of patience into this task.

Teaching has sure been an experience, not as "fun" and "exciting" as I initially thought it would be. But it has helped me tremendously in many aspects and I'm proud to say it has helped my little student as well. We're both learning together.

I send out my respects to real school teachers. Thankfully I was never much of a trouble-maker in school and was excellent at knowing when to behave, so I don't feel too guilty. c;

xx

"Juice for the Soul", or something cheesy like that

After an insanely stressful time working on my current art project and feeling that my goals were absolutely unreachable, I decided to calm myself down with two things:  Patti Smith's Just Kids  and fresh fruit+vegetable juice.

Just skimming through some pages of Just Kids really did the trick. I became inspired enough to get on my feet and do the best with what I could. It also reminded me that my dreams aren't going to come true overnight. I figuratively told myself, "Patience, dear grasshopper" and patted myself on the back.

Ultimately all the stress and feelings of afflicted ambition did wear me out and I realized that I had lost all my appetite. It's something that I've learned from the past that when I'm feeling too down in the dumps to care about solid food because 1) I know I will just end up throwing it up anyway and 2) let's face it: chewing is hard work , I decided to put my abandoned juicer to use and make myself an extra-healthy and easily-digestible treat. 

But before I bore you with so many words, I'll just show you the pictures I took during my juice making. My parents were watching and laughing at the fact that I was actually photographing the entire process, mind you. It's not a nice feeling. It actually made me feel stressed again... but I'll leave that for another post. (I did give them half of the juice that I made, just so you know that I got over being bitter at them.)

     

A pretty  mess

My favorite part about making anything with beats is the pretty pinks that are left dancing around in the sink afterward

Hi c:

...and with that I leave you to go write a raging journal entry about how upset it makes me when others, particularly my otherwise super-supporting parents, make fun of me while I'm in creating-mode.

In the words of Holden Caulfield: "It kills me!"

xx

Leilani....the homeschool teacher?

So, for a really long time I’ve felt like public schooling wasn’t the thing for me. Especially not at the middle-school and high-school levels. I’ve already accepted that I went through it and not only did I survive, but I learned a lot in the process. That is all fine and well, but I still think that my learning experience would have been greatly enhanced had I been given an alternative. Yes, I did learn to grow in social aspects. Yes, I did have many character-forming and life-changing experiences; all which I am thankful for. But I still wonder how much more knowledge I could have right now, how much more I could have enjoyed learning if I hadn’t been constantly trying to dodge all the extra stuff that comes with public education.

 
(hmmm...)

Anyway, I don’t know if I will ever be able to accurately express with words my true feelings about this. I don’t even have my true feelings very well sorted out yet. Maybe I’ll write a book about it one day when I’m feeling really inspired. But right now, I’m done ranting. I have something really exciting to tell:

This morning my aunt came over so I could give her some art tips on these pieces that she’s working on (she’s been trying to replicate some paintings that my mom has up on our walls for months, and it is just the cutest thing ever. I love her!) and we ended up talking about how her daughter is entering kindergarten real soon and how it’s going to be difficult considering my cousin is very, um, spoiled (for the lack of a better word) and also doesn’t speak very well for her age. I asked my aunt if she’d ever considered home-schooling and she said she hadn’t but that she was trying each day to teach her very basic things like numbers and colors.

She must have sensed my enthusiasm right away because she proposed that I be a tutor for the summer. She offered to pay me if she could drop off my cousin every day for about a month so that I could teach her! I wouldn’t be so excited about this if it weren’t for my recent mommy-blog obsession. Also, I’m not the most patient with children and in fact, I get worn out by them real quick. But a few weeks before school ended I had the opportunity to be an art teacher to 2nd graders for a day and I loved it. I’m excited about this because I like being creative and I also, admittedly, love any opportunity that I have to rub-off some of my more ~free-spirited~ tendencies on little children. It’s just a thing that I do. (Shh..don't tell their parents!)

I am a little bit nervous about how all this will work out. But I plan to take full-action and soak up as much as I can from this experience to see where it will take me next. Who knows…maybe I’ll like it enough to become a full-time (art) teacher one day! But just kidding….*cringe*.

xx

Happiness is a developed roll of film

In the past week I've had the pleasure of finally shooting and developing three rolls of film that I've had either lying around in my room or unfinished in my camera. I've felt so inspired to be the photographer I hoped to be when I was 14, so much that I declared myself as a Photography major to my college today. Yep, I'm going to do it!

If I had a list of "The Most Pleasurable Things In Life", somewhere at the top of that list would be: The first peek at the photos that have been so cozily sitting in a roll of film, waiting to finally be processed. There's just a peculiar sweetness in seeing photos far from the time that they were actually taken. I appreciate digital, but nothing beats the thrill and patience that comes with analog.

But before I go on a tangent about how much I love film photography, here are three slideshows of my latest memories, in order older to most recent:



Days at home, two of my favorite missionaries, a trip to San Francisco


A shot from my backyard, another trip to San Francisco (Exploratorium), a day with friends, random shots at home
 

Silly photo-shoot with my little sister- spanning 2 days, a shot from the road

Miss Moody Unicorn

I found a little unicorn in my backyard. She's cute but a little moody and...well, I don't know what to do with her.

 

I liked this one in grayscale too:

Make sure you take pictures of all the mystical creatures that you find, or else no one will believe that you actually saw them.

Then again...who cares if they don't believe?

xx

A photographer's confession

Finding old pictures is an extremely rewarding event. Well, at least it is for me, a girl in love with the feeling of nostalgia and deep reflections on life. When I picked up photography in 2008 my intention was purely to create good-looking and artistic photographs. Photographs that I could promote and become known for. I didn't think for one second that the photographs that I'd eventually be most proud of would be the candid ones: the real, the unedited, the photographs that I snapped without much thought. I didn't think that it would be these photographs that would give me a heartache to look at, years after they were taken. Today I graduated high school. I don't really know what much to say about this fact because I haven't been able to sort out my feelings about it just yet. I don't really know what it even means, to have graduated. I am aware of what it probably means to others since all these years we've been emotionally built up, by our mentors and teachers, for this moment; the supposed "freeing" moment of going into the "real world". I don't know if I quite agree with that thought. The world I lived in all these years felt pretty "real" to me. The point that I'm trying to get to is that today, whatever significance it's suppose to hold and whatever significance it will hold for me in the future, is just another day to remember. I have the pictures to prove that it happened. I have the pictures that I will be able to look back to in the years to come. Well, that's just it. How is this day, my big graduation day, any different from any other day? Each present moment is always a little bit dreamy.

It's there and it's honest, but it's typically not until we look back and remember it that it becomes truly accessible and real. Why else would we miss a moment in the past? Why else is it difficult to continually live in the present? These are not rhetorical questions, I simply ask them because I don't know their answers. The photographs on this post are two of the many photographs that I took on a normal day back in March of 2010. Over two years ago. I remember I was at my aunt's house which was located in front of a small park. My cousin, Emily, and I were at the park, poking at bugs and doing much of nothing. It was a perfectly normal day, not boring but not spectacular either. For some reason, as I was looking back at these photographs, I started to long for that moment. I felt a pull in my heart, the wanting to go back in time and relive that day, that month, that year. Of course, pining for the past is sometimes hurtful and unhealthy, so as I recognized this I immediately stopped myself. It was just a day. Just an ordinary day. Maybe two years from now I'll look back at my graduation photos and think the same way. I'll remember it, I'll miss it, I'll get over it. But in between those actions, I'll have some space to reflect and to learn. Maybe it will be then that I'll be able to grasp what graduation really meant. Maybe I'll finally be able to figure it out. For now it's just a day that is nearing its end and I don't feel the need to stop it from doing so. I long for tomorrow and the many more days to come, the many more memories I'll be able to make more accessible with the click of a shutter.

Hmm. Maybe another day I'll remember exactly what it was that I wanted to say with all this. Maybe not. Either way, I do have one last thing to state:  I am thankful for the blessed day in which I picked up a camera.