A Single Pink Drop

In the home I'm temporarily staying in, the shower-head has a lovely pink scrubbing towel draped over the back of it. Every 6 seconds, a single pink drop falls between the steams of water. After it falls past the scrub towel it's impossible to see. As fascinated as I was with it today, I told myself that it was completely impossible to follow it after that point. 

I said that to myself while crying. As it turns out, my temporary home was supposed to be my permanent home. Some details, that were out of my room mate's and my control, state that I have a limited number of days I can stay... And then? Then what? No idea. Hence the tears. 

Flashback to my previous location. I wasn't pleased to have to withdraw from classes. I wasn't pleased to have to talk about the finances of departing from school with a woman who I was sure didn't care about me, either way. As I got up to leave, I thanked her out of principle, and then told her I liked the poster on her wall, full of positive thoughts. 

Her manner changed. She smiled and agreed with me. Then she spoke a blessing over my life. 

"You will find a path in a place where you think there is none."

As I thought  back to that moment, I didn't realize that I had extended my hand. Within 6 seconds, I felt a single drop fall into my palm. If felt so different from the pressurized streams of water. And yet I had just said to myself that following the path of that drop was something that could not be done. 

That's the "impossible" for you. Effortlessly proving us all wrong.

So what has been impossible for me, lately?


For years, I've wanted to record albums, give recitals and do live events. I've wanted to learn all about French art songs (I love the way Debussy flirts with the jazzy and a-tonal, and it suits my voice), and all kinds of styles. I've wanted to share my art with friends, and make more friends that way. But getting started is a challenge. And asking for help is akin to begging, at least for me. 

But what if I asked anyway?

The Next Step

I told myself a little more than a year ago that I wanted to keep my fashion blog up, consistently, for a year. I told myself to keep to a weekly posting. I must say, I was really inspired by a good friend who had been doing it since we were college classmates. I never imagined anyone would look at mine, but I did it all the same, because to me, the whole concept-- and the friend-- were beyond cool.

Now that the year is done and gone, and I actually have surpassed it by several weeks, I wonder: Should I stop posting? Should I move on to another blog that's a little less fashion and a little more philosophy?

But lately, it's felt more like a little plant than a form of self-discipline. I feel the desire to prune it (edit former posts) and water it (keep doing more/maybe post more often). I'm not going to hold myself to a rigid schedule. I tried that before, and would stay up late even on stressful/tiring days just to make sure the post would be at some point on Thursday. Towards the end of the year, that didn't happen quite so faithfully.

Along the way, I got to enjoy seeing how the international community works, seeing that people had read by blog from France, Estonia, Brazil... That was exciting to see.

I also got a little more brave and put my blog where my peers could see, even though I assumed for years that I was the ugly duckling and none of them would be interested (well... just a select few, anyway). I've wondered if I should photoshop, or if I should buy and expensive camera. I wondered if without those things I could call myself a blogger (even a part-time) one, and compared myself to others with coding experience and million dollar wardrobes. Suffice it to say, I was quite insecure about the whole process.

Now I'm thinking that this is a joy for me, not an opening to let negativity in. And to take good advise and ideas from others, but still ultimately rely on my own mind for how this blog 'should' function or 'should' look. Perhaps that will make this blog slightly more sustainable. After all, fear of any intensity takes up a lot of energy.


To my readers who stop by and read; you're helping to make changes in me.

Thanks,


SomethingNew