RhianCaroline

The final blog of Christmas [and 2010]

 

Christmas is a tricky one for me.
I like presents.
I like making my house pretty.
I like taking time to think about gifts i want to get my friends and family.
I like wrapping things.
I like the spirit of generosity and kindness it breeds in people.
I like the magic of the season.
Reindeers flying.
Father Christmas dropping down a chimney.
A baby being born to a virign.
I like the hope that has to come with it.
I like being allowed to watch terrible terrible Christmas movies and spending days not doing much at all.
I like my family.

But not all my family is here, and whilst this is a fact I battle with every day of the year, on Christmas day it is made all that more apparent.
As much as I love all the things that come with Christmas - all these things are always left that little bit empty because my brother is not here to share them.

 

I think it is important to remember us at this time of the year.
The forgotten ones. The people who find this day not full of peace and joy and love.
Who strive to find those things, but who struggle for those things on these days.

 

I can be glad that there was once a baby and a stable and astronomers and magic. Whether you believe it to be a true story or not, it is still one full of hope and gladness and grace.
And on holidays like this one, I am thankful for all those things.

Merry Christmas, friends. New York beckons tomorrow, so I'll be back in the New Year!
xoxo

Standing in the shadows

Weddings and snow and ice and lesson plans and Kimberly Scott and not enough fruit and fingers frozen to the bone. Heels too high, crazy people, makeup wearing dry, crisps and coke (for the American) and back to school on the Monday.

 
 

I designed and made the invites for this pretty bride, then I designed the Order Of Service for her, then I second shot her wedding with Kim, of which I will one day get around to editing into a stop motion, then I went to bed for 10+ hours.

 
 
(Photo Credit for the OOS shot: Kim)

Would I shoot a wedding again? Maybe.
Would I shoot a wedding again during the coldest November we have experienced in a while? Probably not!

 
Credit: Kim

today

 

autumn breeze

 
my etsy faves have been mirroring the whole feel of this season, so i made my first treasurey.

this month i have mostly gone to bed early, and woke up earlier to a simulation sunrise; wore wolf jumpers and eaten home cooked food made by the boy. i have been listening to emmy the great, reading sylvia plath; wondering if i will actually be able to do this thing they call teaching. i have taken notes, posted doily clad packages and drank peppermint and fennel tea. i have dreamed about an army of brave hearts, created pages of words, accepted a seasons end. i have become acquainted with the meaning of the semicolon, been baffled by inappropriate behaviour, missed my zoe bloom. i have had my breath taken away by reminders of the depth of my loss, avoided rice puddings, and longed for more energy.  

lovely things

*This lovely video le frost made of us in Paris. I didn't even know she was shooting this. She's a sly one.

*These ATC's.

My first month as an ArTCee for the first ever challenge over on simplyatc's and the theme is Alice in Wonderland. Lovely.
I'm using the prompts as visual inspiration, but treating my cards as teeny tiny art journals. Come play, because you will immediately be put in for a chance to swap for this set.

*Very nearly completing a custom order, with the prospect of another very soon.

*Tom Hardy.

*Michio Yamauchi's street photography.

*Multi coloured finger nails. (But not wardrobes on the middle floor.)
 

Le Paris

Yes I have spent the last 4 days putting 'le' in front of everything.
I loved le Paris. It's a beautiful beautiful city, and I'd go back soon as.
I did not love the hotel we checked out of after the first night. It was smelly. And dirty. And I'm pretty sure it had bed bugs. I have no idea why I booked it. NO IDEA AT ALL.
We got to the hotel at 6pm and dropped our bags then headed out to the Eiffel Tower. As all good tourists do.
We got back to the room at about 10, and from then on. I didn't sleep a wink.
Well, maybe I slept two winks.
But as we know two winks is not enough to sustain this annoying girl for a day of le Paris in the morn.
We changed hotels. Of course. Because really, it was foul. I'm not sure it could even be classed as a hostel.
I struggled. Bad.
I didn't even take my camera out that second day. Because my shoulders were in such pain, that little Alice would have killed them.
I relied on Frost's eyes and lens.

By the time our 7.30am flight came around the next morning, I had had only another half a wink sleep, and my poor little body felt like it was shutting down bit by bit.
I had the shortest flight of my life, and the worst. I spent it with my head on my knees the whole time.
I got through it by counting every five minutes.
Five sets of 60.
8 sets of five.
And whilst counting all those seconds I was feeling like I would die. And when I feel so ill I get angry.
Truth of the matter is, anger is my go to emotion when anything at all happens.
But when this happens, I know what to do. I know through my CBT how to slow my mind and process what is actually causing my anger, and not what I think I am angry at.
Except.
This is all lovely in theory. To be so centred and meditative. So logical and able to understand the patterns and processes of your own mind.
But I was sitting 26,000 feet in the air feeling like I would die with my head in my legs, and possibly freaking out my poor neighbour sitting next to me.

Tranquility and objective thinking were not on my mind.
I wanted to be a normal person who can go to le Paris for two days without killing her body.
I wanted my body to behave like a normal person, and to stop killing me all the time.
I wanted the plane to fly the eff faster. Why did they cut concorde for crying out loud? Why didn't Richard Branson buy concorde out like it was reported years ago? What is wrong with him?! That stupid, rich, bearded fool.

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10.
And why on earth would somebody create a body that can't eat anything without it causing extreme frustration and awkwardness?
11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20.
Why the eff would somebody think a good function in a body is dairy intolerance? AND THEN LET THAT PERSON GO TO LE PARIS.
With all the croissants, and pastries, and ice-cream that they can't eat! What is wrong with that ridiclous entity!
21.. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30.

It is widely known amongst my close friends, anybody that has taken a journaling class off me, and anyone that has sent me a ridiculous text asking for prayer for sunny weather,
I do not understand, nor do I, pray.
Not anymore.
But 21 years of training has made prayer this go-to thing, that even now, I will not be able to stop myself doing. At the most annoying and ridiculous times. I will catch myself thinking.
"Now would be nice for some help."
And then I will realise how annoying and selfish that is. So instead I will think of others.
So 26,000 feet in the air I was ranting incoherantly at Richard Branson, and thinking of how tired and brave and strong my mother is for living with a dead son and PTSD. How intelligent and amusing my father manages to be through everything.
How my brother has survived testicular cancer and can always be counted on to make a joke about balls.
How people in Pakistan are dying and fighting for their lives and homes in floods.
How children in the Philipines go to work at such young ages to help finance their families.
How the worlds poor live on less than £2 a week.
And I remembered how small I am.
How big the world is.
How terrible things are.
How this God is still supposed to exist amongst all this. Amongst all these prayers, and crys for help, and sadness.
And how ridiculous I am for being angry at poor (although not literally) Richard Branson.

 

Because really I was/am angry at myself.
I know I can not do short trips away where I will feel obigated to spend hours of the day walking.
I know I can not do mornings, afternoons, evenings, and night times without napping.
I know my body needs kindness, yet I am very rarely kind to her.
I am much more often derogatory, and abusive, and downright mean.
8 sets of five in the journey, the wheels of the aeroplane touched down, and I have never been happier to be back in Birmingham.

I do believe my body was being as mean to me, as I have been to her.
But I am not angry at her anymore. She had to be mean to get my attention.
I have to be kind to her, for her to be kind to me. This is what she tells me.
At 26 one would think I would know this. And I do for the most part. But still not well enough.
My CBT kicked in, and I was able to determine I was angry at no one other than myself.
And once again I was convinvced for myself, we must all spend less time contemplating ourselves, and more time thinking about others.
More time doing the things we already know how to do.
And give God, where ever he/she may be, a break from all the ridiculous and pointless 'help me' notes.

No.28*

*See the wildflowers of Texas. Done and done. And love and love.
They are some of my favorite things now. I can't wait to go back in different seasons to see all the different ones. Especially the bluebonnets.

I decided a while ago I am just going to post the whole book at the end of the year. Because I've been journaling the things I'm ticking off my list too.

As well as trying to make pretty videos of wildflowers. Sigh.

Parlez-vous anglais?

Bonjour belles personnes!

I am going to Paris on Friday, I can say:
'hello my name is rhian.'
'where is the toilet?'
'carry on forwards.'
'do you speak english?'
'turn right.'
'turn left.'
and
'that is fabulous.'

I think I am good to go.

30 things you should know about the boy on the 30th

1. He buys me flowers regularly.
2. He warms my always cold feet up at night.
3. He spent the first few years of his life in Singapore and developed a speech impediment. Even now, when he gets very tired or very excited, he will say his r's like w's. It's cute.
4. He hates DIY, he will do it, but hates it, and therefore isn't the greatest at it.
5. One year he lost a whole year of his life. He was adamant he was going to turn 27 that year, when I insisted he was going to be 28. He disagreed and argued with me, until he came back a few days later and told me he had realised he was going to be 28.
6. He reads comics over books.
7. He's a drummer. A mighty fine drummer. And his online nickname used to be animal.
8. He bought me my first acrylic paints and canvasses to encourage me to paint.
9. He doesn't like any Revels other than the toffee. They are my least favourite.
10. He is infinitely more patient than me.
11. I have never known him to dislike anyone, or for anyone to dislike him.
12. He is definitely the nicer of the two of us.
13. I used to describe him as Eeyore from Winnie The Pooh, whereas I am his Tigger.
14. It doesn't matter how horrendous I look he will always tell me I look beautiful.
15. I even think he believes it.

16. He spends more time brushing the dogs hair and telling her how cute she is than I do.
17. I'm pretty sure he will be (if we have children) one of those dads that braids his daughters hair.
18. He is one of the funniest people I know. (Along with my brother.)
19. He looks and sounds freakily similar to his brothers. Like, seriously, you would freak out.
20. He is definitely the hottest :)
21. He has been known to go out late at night just to get me earplugs from the store.
22. He makes a mean pancake.
23. He gladly watches me skate around a carpark a couple of evenings a week. Without complaining.
24. I have never known anyone to fall asleep so quickly. He can be talking, and then he's gone.
25. When he doesn't fall unconscious immediately, he will tickle my back till he thinks I am asleep.
26. He cleans the bathrooms.
27. I have only seen him really angry once. He threw his phone against the wall and it broke. I told him he was stupid.
28. You see how he is much nicer than me?
29. He's got smarts. And he doesn't make me feel stupid for not having the smarts.
30. He always offers me the last sweeties in a bag :)

I know you all want a Dan Frank now :) 

It’s just a life story, so there’s no climax...

Sunshine hotter than the depths of hell, Mumford and Sons, hundreds of cheap straw hats, disposable and instant photos, new friends, old friends, good friends, laughter, cider, chips and pizza, forts made out of picnic blankets and bags, Seasick Steve, 'there's no tea or coffee left', WHAT, crowds and crowds of people laughing and smiling and singing, clouds floating by,

'Um, no you can't fit in that space', queues longer than a piece of string, water, sunblock, sherbert lemon, coral, and pink nail varnish, a dinosaur on a bicycle, rob lives in a box, sigh no more, burnin' up, hands lifted high, and spirits soaring wide.

Hop Farm on a Saturday was a good Saturday :)