Approximately a million days ago, I had a brilliant idea to hand-make and send Christmas cards to everyone. I finished about 2 1/2 of them before realizing that starting said project a week before the holidays was, while typical for me, not exactly a set up for success.
So a million days later (present day), I have decided to turn said cards into a little art project. Little hand drawn portraits of friends and family, maybe with little quotes or phrases that remind me of each person (but will probably only make sense if you actually know them).
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little series!
First up in the Portrait Project, my sweet friend, Vanessa--part of my NYC crew.
My dad (like most of my family members) is a homebody. I think he really enjoyed having me back at home for awhile after living somewhat far away for so many years. When I told him I had decided to move to Colorado, he started ranting and raving about how Coloradans are "a bunch of pot-smoking communists." Ah, dads.
"Good morning, Lizzie. You have my blessing on Colorado as long as you promise not to become a communist. God bless America, and you too. XO"
I've got this itch to travel. To wander the globe, to experience new cultures, new faces, new foods and sights and oceans. I've had this itch for a couple years now, and it shows no signs of letting up.
After much deliberation, I had finally had it with complaining about my situation and decided to do something about it. I quit my job, took all the money I had, and with the generous gift of a family member's airline miles, booked a ticket to Paris, with a return trip from Zurich three and a half months later.
It ended up being the best decision I've ever made for myself. A lot happened in those few months. I felt this sense of clarity while being away from everything and everyone I knew in my everyday life. I had time to think about what I really wanted while experiencing things I never even knew I wanted to experience.
When I got back to New York, I ended my 4+ year relationship. I had no money, and no job. I did have a multitude of friends' couches I could have slept on, but instead I decided to close the living-in-New York City chapter of my life. I moved back to suburban Illinois to live with my dad while I decided my next move. I had no idea what was going to happen, but instead of being scared, I was excited about the unknown.
I didn't know it at the time, but when I boarded that plane to Paris, I was beginning a new chapter in my life. I've had a different perspective on things since I took that trip. It sounds painfully cheesy, but during that trip, I learned how to be happy.
I want to write a lot more about traveling (and getting/finding/letting yourself be happy), share information about places I've visited and places I'd like to go, and how to go about it in maybe less conventional ways.
For now, here's a little something to stir your inner travel desires.
When I lived in New York, I was a loyal TJs shopper, and when I moved back to Illinois briefly, I ended up getting a job as a sign artist at the store near my home town. I was sad to leave the company when I moved to Boulder, but I decided I would probably apply again once they opened a store here.
So that is what I did. And I have to say, I feel pretty lucky to have a job that is fun and relatively stress-free, where I get to be creative and practice hands-on lettering and artwork on a daily basis. Working with an awesome crew and receiving praise from my supervisors doesn't hurt, either. The job isn't one I can really afford to have long term unless I find additional work, but I definitely enjoy it now.
I've been back at it for a few months now and I can definitely see improvement in my work. Since nearly everything we create at the store gets painted over or replaced on a regular basis, I'll be posting some of my work from time to time here, for safe keeping (and maybe eventually some constructive feedback!).
I want art to be a big part of this blog -- sharing art the inspires me as well as my own.
Today, the latter; Painting has been something I always enjoyed doing, but has always been more of something for me to admire, as my skills aren't extremely developed.
Still, a teeny tiny canvas is much less intimidating a project. Sometimes you just gotta start small.
Growing up, there were many mornings when my dad would leave for work before I would leave for school. On these mornings, he would almost always leave a note for me.
At least, I hope he was kidding...
Anyway, I decided to start saving them, thinking I might use them for just the right occasion, like, showcasing them on a blog.
I moved out of my dad's house almost a year ago now, which makes me that much happier I saved them. They aren’t all hilarious gems but they all make me feel sentimental just the same.
Last night, I rode a bicycle for the first time in 17 years. Seven. Teen. Years.
Now, I live in Boulder, Colorado, where you're basically an outcast from society if you don't have a bike. My roommate and I have lived here a year and just yesterday, decided to join the ranks of the outdoorsy.
We each bought the same bike, a black retro style Schwinn complete with a classic bike bell (ain't she a beaut?). As we drove home, our shiny new rides piled in the back of her car, I secretly hoped it would be too dark to ride by the time we got back. I have been having anxiety about getting back on. Alas, we made it home just before dark and went for a modest spin around our quiet neighborhood. Suddenly I felt 13 again, cruising down the middle of the street with the evening breeze blowing at my face. It was exhilarating.
For my entire adult life I've told myself (and everyone I know) that I am just trying to "figure it out." Always second-guessing my decisions, always feeling a little unsure of myself (okay fine, I still second-guess and feel unsure of myself). I used to think I would reach a point where, having figured it all out, I would feel accomplished, happy, and complete. But instead of thinking about those feelings as ones that are attainable right now, I would see them as some distant finish line that needed to be crossed.
I know a lot of people who struggle with this same issue. Maybe it's growing up in a generation when we were told we can be anything we want when we "grow up." Many of our parents did not have this luxury and were thrilled to offer it to us--this freedom of choosing your own direction and becoming whoever you want. And while I feel grateful and lucky to have been raised with this mindset, as an adult, it can sometimes feel overwhelming. When you have limitless possibilities and can choose anything you want to aspire to, how can you choose? Which path will grant you the best results? I'm now a grown-ass woman and I still feel like I have no idea.
In recent months, or perhaps gradually over the past decade, I've come to realize: I will never figure it out.
There is no formula for doing so. No way to know where each path will lead you. You just have to do what makes you happy, do what you love, do what you are good at and work to improve on what you aren't. Once you accept the fact that there is happiness and a sense of accomplishment to be found in the process, well, maybe that is having life figured out.
And so: Today I start this blog as part of my process. I have no idea what will come of it, if anything, but it's something I've been talking about doing forever. I really just want to create something for myself. There is no better time than right now to stop talking and start doing. To find what brings me joy and go there.
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