My Dreams Tell Me Stories

I woke up from a series of weird dreams this morning.
Most of my dreams include me having to fend off enemies with my trusty hobbit sword. Everything gets rather violent and 007 actionish. Dreaming is my way of entertaining myself during recharge mode, and I love it when I surprise myself with imaginary plots and subconscious characters. Last night part of my escapade included duelling a minion of some bad-guy-villain-or-other. He wasn't human though, instead he was a creation of Bad-Guy-Villain...and he looked strangely like a man with a giant maple leaf strapped to his back. Obviously, he had chameleon powers, because every time he weaved his way in and out of the forest that we were combating in, his entire body and clothing attire would change color. Later on in my dream, "Leaf Man" became a good guy, realizing that his former master (for some reason, Bad-Guy-Villain seemed to really be into creating non-human camouflage/chameleon followers) was in the wrong.

I can't remember if there was ever a conclusion, but after waking up, taking a horseback riding lesson, and showering, I could still picture both Leaf Man and Bad-Guy-Villain clearly in my head. (It helped that they had taken on a sort of Avatar: The Last Airbender/The Legend of Korra look in my dreamstate.) So I went ahead and drew out Leaf Man (right).

I was lazy and didn't scan these.
Instead I just snapped photos.

He's kind of unfinished. 

...For clarification, this is sort of my revised vision of the image that future Leaf Man could take on. He didn't quite look so legit in my dream...more like a guy with a giant onesy and globish facial expressions.

The other picture (left), is entitled "Chrissy".
This was a doodle that I drew up on Friday with a friend of mine. She lives in a treehouse. And we think she's pretty cool.




Copy That,
K-Minty

Updeedupdeedating

It's time to update you.

To begin, I have submitted my Doodle4Goodle entry (Argh. I hate the way that sounds. Reminds me of a preschool art contest.). My result could be interpreted as a disaster, but by now I'm rather fond of my little cartoon dewds and dewdette.

copyright KP 2013

There's that. 

Remember to vote for the finalists on May 1st, 2013. 

Second, I have been doing no writing whatsoever. Unless you decide to include my 2-page bio on GK Chesterton, I can readily assure you that I've not been plotting or penning plot for a very long stretch of timey-whimeyness. 

In theory, this is because of my big art break that I've been going through. Art shows and contests can be taxing on your wordiness. Seeing as every picture is worth a thousand words...well, I've been doodling a lot of pictures.

Putting aside my theory though---I will bluntly confess to my habit of gravitation towards poems and shorter works of fiction. I have a thing about time management that makes it really hard to manage to finish a project. 

(One reason why working under pressure works for me.)

Leaving my ideas and creations half-done and half-alive is what I do. And I guess it takes a kick in the pants to get me to actually complete stuff. 

(And here we have a great point as to why NaNoWriMo is so wonderful!) 

Third, it's the end of March. So much time is draining through my hands, and it's not even funny. There's talk of vacation trips in May, and it's really not cool that May is only a few measly weeks down the road from here. 

I am dreading April for a few reasons, and of them the least: April means hot weather. Like 90 degrees F. weather and frying asphalt burning your face up from below weather. Eeew. 

---Haha! just wait until we hit JUNE. That's when the tourists begin to shrivel up and we see little piles of ash on the sidewalks from the heat incineration. 

Finally...

I feel like I should cap this post up with some sort of evaluation of how great or terrible life is or has been. At the moment, that's a very difficult thing for me to do. "Life is a barrel of apples", they say, or "a box of chocolates" or "a confusing place". 

I guess all are true. 

So if you need me, I'll be eating my chocolate-dipped apples with a puzzled look on my face. 

Kismint

Smiling Identity

Salad Bugs, if you wish to read them. 
___

It's such a bittersweet place around here.

I can't shake the feeling that you're distracted somehow. Come to think of it, I guess I am too. I just wonder so many things that it hurts, and the circles under your eyes are really making me feel for you. If I could help, I would. And sometimes I truly think that I can say that because I have firm belief that you would do the same for me.
---At least, it's my dearest hope that you would. But who can say?
We won't go down that road. Not now, probably not never.
...But that was an unintentionally double negative and I'm really uncertain over what I meant and what came out. Uncertainty just rules the world around here. It's kind of painful sometimes.

I once told you that I didn't like it when people got mad at me, but I asked you to yell in my face earlier. Things are so shifty, and we're gliding slowly down a landslide. You just looked at me---confused, and asked me "When have I ever been mad at you?".
Good point.

Now that I think about it, I just now realize that your eyes have been green today.
And now that I that I think about it again, only now realize that the land of hot air balloons happens to be taking away both of my blue-to-gray-to-green-and-backs.
Just a few hours ago, everything was okay. But as usual, you continue to make my life more complicated, and I'm not afraid to say it. I'm also not afraid to be honest and say that I'm the one who's to blame. You aren't. You don't deserve to be. ---blamed, I mean. I don't know what else you don't deserve to be, but I only want you to see clearly. I want you to see that I'm the blind one, and I'm the once who's putting the dents in the wall and blaming them on you.

Something about your smile steals my identity.

___

K-Minty

Pictures - Volume 2

I brang you pictures.
Pause at 0:00 to view hidden photo.
The second-to-last is a collection of art fair entries. I meant to show them to you earlier. Three out of four of them placed.

Good night,
Good morning,
K-Minty

Yesterday I told someone that I left my brain in the shower. Something may or may not have been absurd about that statement.

At the Crescent Ballroom

Guess what?
I trollied myself downtown and hooked up with an Owl City concert last night.

Adam's vocals were rough and stringy, the synth tones were flat, I was squished suffocated in a knot of rampant teenagers two yards away from center stage and the poster on the wall commanded that I leave my camera in the car.

And it was perfect. :)

The crowd was made up of a lovely variety of people, some who had traveled across state lines in order to be there that night, at a no-name bar with peeling paint in the ghetto point of Phoenix. The show-up was small, and I was educated in the art of worming one's way through a mass of fellow fans in order to get nearer to the action.

It is such a...magical (for lack of a better word) thing to watch and listen to a performance done live by someone who, prior to then, you'd only watched and listened to via Google Chrome. I had a handful of moments in which I caught myself smiling, if only because "That guy really exists. He's living and breathing, no longer a bunch of pixels on my computer screen."

Owl City's tour group. (because a one-man band is kind of hard to pull off when going live) Left to right:
Steve Goold, Adam Young, Daniel Jorgensen, Breanne Duren, and Jasper Nephew

Deese people are cool. All of them. Really cool.

11:00 PM found us standing, about to go home, in a nearly-empty alley/parking lot. Their tour bus was situated in the corner, and it was my guess that most of the performers were either inside or away for the night. Lo and behold, a tall skinny dude with a beanie came rolling out from the bus, coasting on his long board. He drifted over to us, and there we beheld the fantastic Daniel Jorgensen (and fantastic isn't an understatement---the guy plays guitar, vibraphone, bass...and a little suppertime triangle on the side ;).
Awkwardly enough, I wasn't sure who he was until I got home and did a little internet research. >_> Remind me to know people's names next time I try to start conversations with them and their long boards.
We didn't talk much about the show, but I pretty much attempted to convince him that downtown Phoenix was not the ideal place to hang around at midnight, and the night life wasn't really worth sticking around for. Soon after that, a small swarm of fangirls walked on over and we took our leave.

Ah! But it was great. I can't remember every song, but these were among the ones that were sung---

Speed of Love
Umbrella Beach
I'm Coming After You
Dementia
Fireflies
Early Birdie
Sillohette
Metropolis
Sky Diver
Gold
I Hope You Think of Me
Take it All Away
Deer In the Headlights
Good Time

Encore:
Hello Seattle
Shooting Star

Awesome night. Made new friends, had my eardrums permanently damaged, and went home looking forward to next time.

Farewell, friends of the feather,
Kismint

Not At Her Greatest

It's almost tomorrow [edit: after publishing this, it is tomorrow] and I would be smart if I closed the computer screen and hit the "slumber" button on my brain. Unfortunately, I'm not smart, and I choose self-inflicted exhaustion in order to spend a few moments spewing midnight blogness into the world of the web. I have a lot of things to write about, but whenever I come to pen them down, they just sort of crumble and dissolve on the page. It's like none of my thoughts really connect and hold together. Everything is just a thin webbing with segments glued in place by illusion.

Ain't that a nice thought?

I'm really stressed right about now. 11:56 PM is not a great time to be stressed. However, make no mistake in thinking that stress is a form of insomnia for me. Oh no, on au contray, m'friend! Kismint happens to be master in the art of deep sleeping, and therefore has no trouble dropping off to dreamland in the appropriate quiet of night.
But back to the stress part.
A month or so back, I wrote about entering a Doodle 4 Google contest. Problems, of course, arise when it so happens that your's truly is also a truly terrible procrastinator. So here I iz. With...no completed doodle. Only nine days before I need to be done.

*kicks rock down the street*

Crap. I really hate feeling like I'm in a time squeeze.

---And it's not even that bad! Nine days could get me anywhere. I could be in Hong Kong in nine days. I could be a newly hired employee at Pulled-Pork & Company Incorporation in nine days. But it's the feel of time seeping away like that. And all the while, my artsy-tartsy inspiration is seeping away too.

Not to mention that my dear mum has ever-so-often expressed her great desire for me to enter and enter my very best (ASAP).

Ahhh...kick in the gut.

So here I am, kind of wanting to pound a hole in the wall because I'm irrationally panicking on the inside. Irrational stuff is dumb. I don't know why, but I'm extremely sensitive to the slightest application of any kind of pressure.

I feel pressured.

I think it might be best if I go to sleep now.

I'm meaning to write and tell more. Thank you for allowing me to vent. Feel free to throw squishy vegetables because then I won't feel bad about picking them up and throwing them (really hard) back.

Don't worry, I've got a bad arm.

K-Minty

Inchworms

The mention of Crayola colors brought this on.

Life is complete.

Q and A

An abundance of questions, and an abundance of answers.

What time did you get up this morning? Oh...nine, nine-thirty...eight...eight-thirty...I don't really look at the clock as much as I should. 

What was the last movie you saw at the theater?   I think it was The Hobbit.

What is your favorite T.V. Show? At ze moment, my two favorites gotta be Merlin and Avatar the Last Airbender. :)

What do you usually have for breakfast? Erm...toast. Anything that I can get my hands on really. Contrary to popular belief, breakfast isn't high on the list of things to do and do well. 

What food do you dislike? Olives.

What is your favorite CD at the moment? Like, that I own? Relient K's Forget and Not Slow Down. Except...it's my brother's CD (shhhh). 

What characteristic do you despise? The art of hiding something behind a smile. 

Are you an organized person?  Pfft. No. I'm a list person. A plan-your-day-out-person. But I'm not a this-goes-here-that-goes-there person.

Where would you retire to? My bed and laptop. 

What was your most recent memorable birthday? The Sunday I graduated into eighth grade. Having a bunch of people sing happy birthday and then dunk you at a pool is a great way to kick off a year of being thirteen. 

What are you going to do when you finish this? Finish watching The Legend of Korra, episode 7. Shame on my for pausing right in the middle of it. (Psh, great example of my attention span)

Furthest place you have ever been to? Away from home? ---New York City. 

Person you wish you could meet? Uh...Ian Mckellen. I would make him read books to me. :)

Are you a morning person or a night person? Night owl. No duh.

What is your shoe size? My converse are nine in women's size. Who knows (or cares! ;) about the other shoes. 

Do you own any animals? The doggo. Who, at the moment is mutilating my window screen, trying to get my attention. I shall ignore. 

Any news you'd like to share? Hi.

When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up?  A veterinarian, I believe. 

What is your favorite flower? African daises. We have them in our front yard (meh---the only kinds of flowers that will grow without any attention whatsoever). And Alstromerias. They have freckles. :)

What day on the calendar are you looking forward to? The day in which I have no obligation to learn, study, or use my cranium in any productive action.

If you were a crayon, what would you be? Inchworm. Best. Crayola color. Ever. 

How is the weather right now? CLOUDY, OVERCAST, AND SPRINKLING...! Happy happy day. 

Last person you spoke to on the phone? My...*scratches head* youth pastor. 

Favorite drink? Water: the sustenance of life. 

Favorite Restaurant? I...don't really have one...but Chipoltle is worth mentioning. 

Hair color? Icky brown. Like a dull milk-chocolate brown. Very boring. 

What was your favorite toy as a child? I was given this little plastic glow-in-the-dark lizard with red eyes when I was very small. I chewed off the tip of his tail and the majority of his toes. His name is Hizard. Hizard the Lizard. I still have him. < 3

Spring, summer, fall, or winter? "Oh summer, when the woods were green!" 

Chocolate or vanilla? Chocolate all the way peeps. 

Do you want to get married? Can I marry chocolate?

What is under you bed? Friendly monsters. 

What did you do last night? Watched The Artist. I'm quite satisfied that it won best picture last year.

What are you afraid of? Painfully awkward moments that, when remembered, cause embarrassment to coarse through your braincells as you try to go to sleep at night. *experience points*

Best quality you have? ...Sarcasm.

Favorite day of the week? Tomorrow. 

Favorite movie? Hugo? Star Wars: The Revenge of the Sith? The Two Towers? The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe? Something like these.

Have you ever had a crush on anyone? Chocolate.

Myer's/Briggs personality? ENTJ. "I will dominate you all". :D I like to hang out with people, I think deeply and abstractly, I pick up on little details, often missing the big picture, I plan and I over-analyze.

The end.

 No doubt I shall talk to you soon again.

 Kismint

Pieces of the sky are falling down. And they are very drippy.

Today was such a loverly day.
It stormed and rained. I think God must have sneezed.

The air here is always gross and dirty. But when miraculous water droplets fall from the sky, the air clears up and it smells good everywhere.
Also, it's Friday. And Fridays maketh everything nicer.

Imagine a new slate and a clean piece of paper. That's what rain is like here. And when the lightning crackles and thunder rumbles, and the wind makes the trees sound like they're singing really loudly, you can just hear the world waking up around you.

"Let's do this!" They say. "Let's live the story we were meant to star in."

There's still hurt and pain and sorrow and trouble enough down here. But the rain---the rain is from above. The drizzle are like messengers from God, telling us that His grace will never cease. Telling us that there is something pure and cleansing. Something beautiful to touch and breath in. Something healing, and worth risking everything for.
It's nice how He thinks to send us reminders like that.

You should know that pajama pants are very flattering.

My watercolor-on-newspaper-plus-sharpie project. Somewhat of a failure. 

The Blue Beanie.
Have you ever met the Okie hat? If not---Okie hat, meet the readers. Readers, meet the Okie hat.

*eerie music* No. I'm not a vampire.
My hands might be chapped, but they aren't really that gray.

(speaking of hands)

And Arlo. Poor Arlo. The one who is unhappy.
(Not about my dirty window, mind you, but about the lack of sunshine.)

Enjoy your evening, okay? If you don't, I'll be very disappointed in you.
K-Minty

Endure

To the invisible friends. 
 Dear Journal, 

The writing comes hard. And "Backspace" is getting hit a little too often. Have I forgotten what it's like to enjoy blogging? Has the glorious magic of pouring my quirks out onto the web page become distant and dry? Likely. 

Life is a sort of strange place to be in. On one hand, it is very dull. On the other hand, it has it's sharp edges. Things prick and pin until you feel all pinched up and numb inside. 

But laughter and light still take place in a glorious dance. Smiles and hugs and whispers that say "Stop worrying silly---it'll be alright. Trust me". 

"Trust me."

Oooh. Harsh words. They seem so innocent and simple. Harmless and soft. Who could have foreseen the way that they would haunt you like a fading nightmare (you know, the ones that you wake up from, forgetting what happened in them but sill knowing that something bad had taken place). 

Tread ever so carefully. Don't crack the eggshells that your toes are on. Keep a sharp eye and a listening ear. Tell yourself to shut up every once in a while, and then think before you speak. 

So don't stop loving sunlight, moonlight, starlight, or the streetlight. Don't sit quietly when you can dance and sing. Smile because there is good to love and to fight for, and not because you're hiding something. 

And trust in faith. Trust in hope. Be a big fan of both. 

Faith, Hope, and Love,
(because they endure)
Kismint

Kingdom Come || The Civil Wars

What if you had the power to wipe away a time of ruin, at the cost of destroying a ruined time? Would you do it? Would you beg, steal and murder for a fresh start and a new beginning? Would you see the destruction around you and crave a utopia in its place? 

All things come with a price tag. To eat the fruit is to die by its poison. 

---

This evening I got some new ideas to chew on that were partly spawned from listening to this song and watching The Hunger Games. 
It's official now guys: I'm now hyping myself up for Catching Fire. Coming out on November somethingth-or-other. As afore mentioned in some of my more recent posts, my writerly inspiration hasn't exactly been faring well. It's not exactly writer's block, instead, it's more of a "wait a minute, why do I even like to write stories anyhow" feeling of apathy.
Yeah...writer's apathy. That's what it is.
Of course, writer's apathy is something entirely different than that of blogger's apathy. Blogger's apathy is like when you sit in bed at night with you mechanical pencil and cutesy notebook, trying to decide what to journal about---and coming up with absolutely nothing because your life is a place of boredom. Writer's apathy is when you decide to try to place a plot on paper and bend it into proper readable form...only to find that the entire process is much longer, more complicated, and downright HARD to do. Side effects may include less habitual reading and frequent addictions to BBC TV series.
They say that to write a book, you have to love your story so much that you're willing to go through the boring mud and muck that makes up ninety percent of authoring (or authorship?). If that's the case, I guess I'm still waiting for my big brainstorming break.

So many ideas...so few conclusions...and absolutely zero finished products.

Yay. Apathy.