Portrait of a Young Girl

Sophia’s long red hair whipped around wildly as the wind rustled through the leaves of the large willow tree that sat on her parents property. She walked to her favorite spot, behind the old barn.

Sitting down on the piece of sandstone that framed the old well, she noticed the piece of cement that coved the hole was crumbling. Several small stones that had been embedded int the cement, were sitting on the sandstone. A rather moderately sized hole was left, from the crumbling rock. Most likely, you could fit your hand in the hole , but for Sophia that purpose was not intended. Picking up a stone she twirled it between her thumb and index fingers. She looked at it for a moment, and released it. Then she waited, hoping that satisfying sound of the rock hitting the water would travel back to her ears -and there it was- Kerr.. plunk..

She continued to twirl more rocks, releasing them from between her fingers, pretending they were her dreams. Slowly slipping away from her, but just within her grasp. So close, that perhaps she could reach out and grab them. However, that was not to be

 

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Eight Credits

Eight Credits… that is all it will take for me to get my Associate of Science and Associate of Arts.

This comes as a relief to me, as I realize all those loans I took out when I was young and stupid might not be in vain.

Eight Credits closer to my dream of becoming and English Major. It has always been my dream, since I was in first grade. I dream of not only writing, but teaching others about fiction and literature. I would love to be a professor and help others achieve a dream, that I had all but given up. Until I found out how close I am, to taking another step toward that goal.

On the way to the college campus, I prayed to God, asking for his guidance. Then, the thought of my Grandfather pops into my head, and I clearly hear him say. “Chris, just do what you love.”

That was all the conformation and guidance I needed.

 

Write, write, write.

I have always been scared to write. The odd thing is, the more I write the less fearful I become. In evaluating my life, I believe I have figured out where this fear comes from.

The fear comes from people telling me over the years that what I wrote did not matter. That I could never make any money from my passion. Somewhere along the way, I gave up on my dream. I know where. In college.

I was told I was good at taking care of others, so I choose to pursue a career in the health care field. I do not regret it because I feel life is a learning experience and I learned a lot. Most of all I learned from the people that I took care of.

Life is full of disappointment. So you should spend it with someone you love, and doing what you love.

I wish I would have listened to my Grandfather all those years ago. He told me to do what I loved, not what other people told me to do. I listened to what other people told me I was good at doing. I didn’t form an opinion of myself at that age. At 18, I really had not had time to form a strong opinion of my own, so I figured I would listen to those that had formed a strong opinion of me as a person. So, I didn’t listen to that voice inside whispering inside of me.

The started getting louder the day my Son was born.

It started shouting at me the day I collapsed and found out I had a Vestibular disorder.

It woke me up in the middle of the night three and a half weeks ago and wouldn’t let me go back to sleep.

Then, I knew I had to write my ideas for my book down. The ideas have kept pouring in, all day long. Every day since. That voice I have suppressed since I entered college has come back and it shows no signs of going away. The voice that the world tried to beat out of me but couldn’t. That voice that says, Write, write, write. So I listened to it. I picked up my pen and I did.

 

Be Like a Child

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Somewhere in our lives we forget to truly live. I think that begins when you start going to school. These politicians and board members who sit behind desks all day, working for corporations dictate to teachers how children should be taught. “Common Core” teaches you that this is the way you have to learn. What those people sitting behind the desk don’t understand is everyone learns differently.

It is in the classroom that creativity is stopped. They kill your dreams. They kill your dreams and creativity because they do not want you to think for yourself. A large group of people thinking for themselves is dangerous. For they have the ability to change the world.

Be like a child who has not had their soul crushed. Be fearless. Have faith, and know that you are worthy. Follow your dreams. Live dangerously. Love like you have never loved before. It is in this way you will be able to change the world. It is never to late to start living the life you always have dreamed of having.

What is dream did you give up? Why?
Please leave your comment below.

Believe in Magic

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  My blog name “Snapshots of a Life,” is inspired by the memior of my life I am currently working on.
  
   When I write, I like to think of a book as a series of short stories. I like to fashion my stories in such a way, that you can pick a chapter anywhere in my memior, and read it independently of the collection.

   I like to think of our life as a camera, and the memories of snapshots. A glimpse into our lives. I love writing true stories, but I also love fiction.

   The reason I love fiction is you can create anything you want. Different characters, different worlds and then imagine how they will react to different situations. This creates the plot.

   I draw inspiration from real life, as you can see and read about in my previous blog entry. I feel that this makes a story more authentic. My goal in writing fiction is to find a universal truth in everyday life, then turn that truth into a story.

   I believe to do this, you must look at life through the eyes of a child. Like the world around you is a magic place. That is where you find truth. Through truth, you find your voice.
  

A Year of Creative Writing Prompts- Hour

For those of you that have the book, A Year Of Creative Writing Prompts, by Love in Ink. You can find this on Day 17. Thanks! And please do not forget to check them out.

http://loveininkwriters.wix.com/loveinink

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2 a.m.

It was the appointed hour. At 2am there she laid on the pavement. The shattered glass reflected her image back to her, as the light of the moon illuminated the wreckage she had been torn from. Crying out to anyone that would hear,

“Don’t let me die! Don’t let me Die!”

However, the cries fell onto deaf ears. She was outside herself now. EMT crews were working on her. The biggest fear the middle-aged woman had, was dying without leaving her mark on the world. The little trusty notebook where she kept her novel she was going to publish, was clutched in her hands as the medical personal worked on her. Everything began to go black but she still cried,

“Please God, not yet! Not Yet!”

My Musical Life

This week was a good week for my Son and Family. It brought back many memories.

My Dad is a Music Director at a local Catholic Church. They have a chicken dinner every year to raise money for the parish. My Dad plays the organ for people who are coming to see the church. After I got out of work, my Mother and I took my Son up to the church so he could listen to Grandpa play the organ.

My Son can never sit still very long. I had him in a sling as I walked up and down the aisle. He got excited as we bounced and walked, listening to the music. He began clapping his hands.

I was then reminded what an impact music has had on my life. My parents first met at church. My Mother was filling in for the choir director, my Dad for the organist. My Mother was very weak because she had just had surgery on her appendix.  She needed help getting up to direct the choir because she had stitches in her side. My Dad was the person that helped her. To make a long story a little bit shorter, here is the kicker… they have been together ever since. If it was not for music I would not be here.

My parents continued this tradition for quite some time. When I was small, probably even younger than my Son… my Mother would place my car seat on the organ or piano during choir practice. Because of this I had a great appreciation and love of music. When I was my Sons age I remember wanting to be like my Daddy. I in my diaper, complete with a tie around my neck… sat on the piano bench at home. Just like Daddy, I played the piano. Matching my voice to the tone of the note as I played.

Then when I was two, I knew the instrument of my choice was going to be the violin. I loved it! My arm would not reach around the neck of the violin so I had to wait until it did. The music store that my mother taught at did not have a size small enough for a two-year old. So finally when I was three. I got to play the instrument I always dreamed of. The violin.

I continued to have a love of music and throughout my Youth I played many musical instruments. Violin, Piano, Clarinet, saxophone, Trumpet, and my latest endeavor, the ukulele. I hope it is a tradition I can pass along to my son. A love of music.

If it was not for music, my son would not be here today. It was love of music that brought my husband and I together. I met my husband at work. One of the first times we hung out, we were at a party one of our coworkers had. There we were. He was playing Guitar and singing and I was singing the harmony.

On another Date, we were at a bar in Wellington, Ohio that had a piano. We were playing the piano at the bar and taking requests to play classic rock songs.

Our Son loves it when Daddy plays Guitar. He loves strumming the strings of his guitar and could since he was about five months old. Our Son is nearly 11 months old now.

We took our Son to two Jim Gill Concerts this week. One in Brunswick, Ohio and one in Valley City, Ohio. For those of you who do not know who Jim Gill is, He is a very talented musician with a good sense of humor. He has a musical life too. He writes his own music and weaves beautiful stories into his music. He is a local musician here in the Ohio area.

The first concert we arrived there early. We got the opportunity to talk to this very humble musician. He even allowed my husband to try out his guitar. Noah loved the music. He started clapping and jumping up and down and then got fussy the last part of the concert.

Noah got fussy at the second concert when he heard Jim play “Yesterday” by the Beatles.  It is this song that Daddy plays for him. Daddy’s at work right now and Noah starts screaming “Dada!” At least Grammie and Grampy got to go!

Here I am reminded that music without music I would not be here. My husband and I probably would not be married, and our Son would never have been born. I hope we can continue the tradition of sharing music and enjoying it in our family.

Freedom Is Not Free

My Son wildly claps his hands and says “Boom.. boom!” and he owhhs… and ahhhs… as we watch the fireworks from the balcony of our one bedroom apartment. Here I am reminded that freedom is not free and we are not done fighting for it yet.

How can you be free when your husband and you have to work two jobs each, and you are barely scraping by? How is this freedom when I’m lucky if I see my husband and our Son is lucky if he sees his father one day a week! No this is not freedom. This is prison. Freedom isn’t free. No not at all.

I hope someday that the world will be freed from all of this oppression. That people will love each other enough to work together to fix the global system that is broken and corrupt. People will stop using money and use their skills and barter. To become self-sufficient.  Rely on a system where we help each other instead of a system built on currency and numbers that are just punched in computers.

I hope someday I will be able to enjoy time with my family. That I am able to relax and I can live my life as I choose. That I can be free.

Never has there been a greater need for freedom. For a new beginning. For a chance to break the system, and build a new system that worked for thousands of years, before corrupt governments came and changed it. No Freedom isn’t free. We are not free yet. I hope I am able to be there when the system collapses and we can rebuild something based on love.

My Son says “oowhh…Ahhhh…” I look at him and say “Yes, we still have a long way to go… we still have a long way to go.”

A Wise Man

   A wise man once told me to fight like hell, follow your dreams, and never give up. That wise man was my Grandfather. I miss him very much. He always gave me good advice. Some of that advice I didn’t understand tell I was much older.

Things My Grandfather Told Me

1. Never Go to Bed or Leave Angry-
My Grandfather got into an argument with his only son. That was the last time he saw him. The next time he saw his Son he was in a coffin.
My Mother and I got into a fight before she left for work. She was in a nearly fatal accident. I am glad she was ok so I could tell her how much I loved her, and that I was sorry.

2. Do What Makes You Happy-
I was a teenager that was easily influenced by others around me. My Grandfather told me I needed to do what made me happy. Not what made everyone else happy.
My Grandfather did what everyone else told him. He went to college. He failed miserably. Then he did what he really loved even though his parents told him he would always be a cripple. (He had a bad hand.) He built race cars and built and restored airplanes. He even restored Wacos for the Smithsonian!
Here I am, a few years later. I am reading a great book. I always loved to read and write. I have regrets that I did not pursue a career in writing. I did not pursue my dream because everyone told me it would never make me money. Well you know what? What I am doing right now, is not making me a great deal of money anyways!

3. There is Only One Person for Everyone. Soulmates Do Exist.
  My Grandfather said my Grandmother was his one and only soul mate. After she died, he tried dating many other women. He was even married a second time. (It didn’t last) He truly believed she was the only women ment for him. He said with the other women it was just never the same. My Grandfather told me he knew there was a soulmate waiting out there for me too.
I thought he was crazy. Then I met my Husband. I realized my Grandfather wasn’t so crazy after all. My Husband is my one and only true Soulmate.

4. When you accomplish all you set out to do, you no longer have fear. You make peace. And if you die, you are ok with that.
I’m still working on this one!

What inspiring advice did your Grandparents give you? How has it changed your life?