Saturday, December 31, 2011

What it's like

Right now I'm pissed off... I'm really pissed off.  Do you want to know why?  Because the answer is simple, initially... I'm lonely.  I'm sure plenty of more complicated people would understand.  To the simpler ones, I often wished I were you.  Allow me to explain why...

First and foremost the notion of being upset about this... makes me angry.  It's not really an ACTUAL problem.   I could be starving, I could have severed my femoral artery, or I could very well be on fire... but I'm not...

Interestingly enough, those descriptions could be used best to describe what's going on in my brain at most times during my misery days.

Lots of people feel lonely... but not like I do.  And you know what... you can go ahead and say that you understand, that you relate... I'll give you that... but trust me, I could see it in your eyes if you knew.  No one knows.  I've known that my whole life... not at least from anyone I've encountered and spent semi-significant time with.  I have science on my side now to prove to you that this statement is sound.  If that's not good enough for you, take it up with religion.   And in case you are completely clueless as to what I'm implying, either   really read up on my previous blog or just go away.  Don't make my pain worse, please, I beg of you.

I've learned a lot about myself recently.  Saying that... *sighs* man... I wish I could tell you, but at the very least, for those of you who talk to me on a regular basis... the way I even communicate, I feel, has changed fairly drastically over the course of the last few months.  I would think, it actually may be rather difficult  NOT to notice.

What I've learned, especially recently, seems to be the last piece to the puzzle.  The finish on the summation, rather.

In some ways, it makes things so exciting.  I feel like I can do anything!  Simultaneously, I've been given a tool.  This tool gave me one very important foundation.  It has taught me that I do in fact, know what I know.  At the same time it really frustrates me because being so (as what I percieve) easily labeled and pinned down to a science (quite literally) irritates me (as it states is typical of my personality) which in turn, only intrigues and excites me more.

I wish you understood.  I wish you all took the time to understand.  It's all I've ever wanted.  And I know no one is ever going to get there, but I wish I could express how much the effort means to me.  I read about everyone.  I want to know about you.  I care about you.  I pour my heart an soul into you.

I don't expect people to be like me.  I don't even expect to receive what I give.  But surely, that being said, you can understand.

And so I'm pissed off.  Actually now, I'm just frustrated.  I've really talked my way out of it.  I love people too much to hate them.  But do you know what I mean? What I'm saying?

For the first time in my life, I realize... truly... what it means to be me.  It really sucks when that means so much to you and you want to share that, but some of the people closest to you in your life can't even see past themselves, let alone their problems to even begin to want to understand what that means.  It hurts.

Thus the story of my life.  It is why I am so moody. It is why I overwhelm the piss out of you... and yes, it's why I'm smarter than you... more than likely.

I don't even like to admit that last part, because I feel it doesn't even matter... but it's true and people need to accept the truth... so maybe I'll feel less angry for a second or two.

I'm so very lonely.

And to always lighten the mood... someone saved my sanity with this today...
If that explains anything at all...  It was so satisfying.

And on a secondary note: (as I am now writing this much later...) I've just realized that Evelyn is a manifestation of the only aspect to me that isn't extroverted... yet such a core to my person... my introverted intuition.  (You have to dig a bit deeper to really understand what that means to be honest.)  But... that's interesting.  No wonder she's always so somber in appearance.  The one thing I feel I can never express about myself is the one thing Evelyn is.  No wonder she's still my favorite.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

Realizing I'm an ENFP

"What the hell is she even saying?"
A label I don't mind wearing... strangely.

I mean, it is me, right? Whatever am I ever saying, right?  (which makes this overall statement so very ironic)

But that's the fascinating thing really... that explains everything.  For the sheer sake of sounding poetic and awesome, I'm half-temped to stop... but obviously I haven't.

Perhaps I should explain how I arrived at this conclusion first...

Recently, for some reason I've been hearing a lot of buzz about this particular personality test known as the "Carl Jung and Isabel Briggs Myers typology" test... you can take it yourself here:

Generally, speaking, I'm skeptic and irritated by these sorts of things.  How can anything less than even 100 questions give you any sort of clue as to who we are as individuals?  Perhaps not with the specifics, but this test has shocked me as to how accurate it has been with everyone I know that's taken it... and that's from both of our perspectives, individually and otherwise.

On the whole, we actually can be broken down.  That fascinates me.  Truly it does.  Especially for myself.  Recently, I've been feeling exceptionally isolated (mentally) and really at a loss of what to do (it's bad enough where I've sought for ways to obtain help... get all that? It's complicated.)  So, I've been doing research.  Turns out, I am the rarest personality type also known as "ENFP" and the least defined of all 15 types.  What fascinates me was that this was able to accurately narrow down my complex, hard-to-relate to (understatement) temperament and overall general motives for everything I do in life... so concisely.  It's done that for everyone.  Gives me a greater appreciation and understanding of myself, but everyone else I interact with as well.

What I appreciated most, was that now that I know, I of course had to be the rarest personality type (as cool as that sounds...),   that there are others out there similar to me... even if it isn't many, that's a comforting feeling.  I am relate-able, definable... maybe just a little bit... and you have no idea how good that feels to be someone like me and say that.
I've never met any me's out there, but I hope when I do... they're old.  I need a good, frank talk with someone who has endured what I have most specifically.  Someone smarter than me.  I love it when I learn things from people and they were trying to teach me something.

I'm transfixed on this subject as of late, if you couldn't tell, so feel free to continue the conversation if you find interest! I would be happy to oblige, as it is in my nature.  Read about it! Tell me what you think! (This was my favorite website for descriptions)
And for a bit of humor... (yet still, remarkably and completely relevant)

On a secondary note, I've read from several, easy-to-obtain sources that only about 3-4% of the entire population is like this, and out of that, only 1 % are true ENFP.  Now you read all about them, and tell me... have you ever met anyone who fit the description better?  It blows my mind.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Here I am

All my life I've been alone, but never have I been left alone.  Loneliness I've felt as an adolescent and even younger at times, was satiated... by the comfort of my parents, the sound of my dog... the distraction of a video game or book. 

Now here I am.  Alone.  Truly.  When he is gone it is myself, the dog, and my thoughts.  Where does this leave the 23-year old version of myself?

I built myself an army to distract my brain.  I thrive on concocting a universe where I am the celebrity, the caretaker, the best friend, the divinely wise, and most admirable of the group.  It's a lot of hard work to avoid being left alone with your thoughts.

Here I am now... I'm left alone with them,  a much greater ability to articulate them and completely at square 0.  It's intense.  It's horrifying.  It's fun.  But most of all, it's lead me to truly understand, that it may be much more difficult to not feel this way for the rest of my life.
Expect great things from me.
Christine Karamol
December 19, 2011 at 2:22 AM EST
Tampa, Florida 

Merry Holidays

Friday, December 9, 2011

A brief update

Do you really want to know what's going on?

Are you sure you're ready to take in the full extent of what that entails?

If not, I'll break it to you slowly anyway.

We'll start with most basic...

1.  I've officially gone off the deep end.  I am aware of this fact making my previous statement somewhat null and void, but it serves its purpose.  Everything in my life has lead up to this moment.  What is "this moment?"  Well, allow me to put it to you this way... for the past 2.5 weeks I have been producing something non-stop.  I mean it.  I don't go to bed until about 6 am most nights and wake up around 11:30-12:00.  I hate getting up that late, but I won't go to bed any earlier.

Why has this happened?

I could give you the reasons, but it's rather lengthy.  Let me give you the abridged version.

I have no friends here in Florida.  This is not entirely true and I'm actually okay with this fact.  I've been avoiding making friends intentionally.  I'll admit it's a little daunting, but for over the past 3 years I have been looking forward to this silence.  This doesn't change my overly social nature, however.  So, even though I've needed this, I'm desperately lonely and it's making me mad.  It's probably the main reason I've been distracting myself with so much artwork.

Does this mean I want sympathy and a conversation from you?  Most likely "no."  People never listen to what I'm really saying and I'm getting sick of it.  I want to be left alone.  I'm embracing this madness, but I really hate calling it that.  I know this is beyond most people's heads (seriously, I don't care if it's arrogant... it's true) and I know that notion sounds melodramatic and attention grabbing, but I'm not that shallow.  I am completely sincere.  About saying I'm smarter overall, I think even my blog speaks volumes on my personal behalf.

Can you tell I'm sick of being nice?

RANDOM TANGENT MOMENT! (but semi-relevant)

Speaking of having enough of people's bullshit... there's this one person that drives me nuts on DA... in fact she's one of the very few that genuinely make me angry.  She said some mean, completely unnecessary words to a very close friend of mine, without actually knowing him (yes this was in person) and it's kind of branded my impression of her ever since.  She never has anything nice to say to anyone, so I posted this...

Pt. 2 (Yes, I'm being petty and vindictive in perhaps the most harmless, most respectful way...)

Just always remember, I am always capable of great evil, I'm just always too damn nice... I'm getting sick of this disposition.  This message, is not evil.  (After-blog comment: Oh and I just recently realized she's the art school brand of opinionated too... how lovely.  They wouldn't know art if it was a dump-truck that ran them over.  This is coming from someone with their BFA.)

Anyway, I see that my niceness has gotten me nowhere seemingly, as of late.  I single-handedly put more effort into my relationships than anyone else I know.  I can say that with so much confidence and not feel bad about it.  I know in some instances, some people try to call me more than I call them, or try to get things together more (actually there are only 2 like this) but my lack of response usually is just a result of making sure I will say something MUCH bigger, much more worthwhile in the longrun.  I just usually need a bit of time to think about it.  I really care that much.

Generally, this has never been an issue for me.  It comes with great benefits.  I am literally the best friend of 9 people.  At least, they've told me this.  Do you know what that feels like?  In some ways great, but admittedly in the long-term... it makes you feel like crap.  You know its impossible to return the favor to all but 1 of these right?  But I try.  It gets exhausting. I probably will never stop either.  My current anger is just a part of this... transition.  It'll pass and be replaced by loads of semi-worth it friendships.  And that my friends is NOT cynicism.

2.  For those of you who care, I am not undergoing a sex change.  A sex change would serve no purpose or functionality for anything in my life.  My gender is not the point, that's the point.

Ken Adams is not an alter-ego, he's not a temporary project.  I have committed to him and that's that.  For a while I thought about explaining it, but if you have followed this blog for the past year, 6 months... 3 months even... you should be able to get a grasp as to "why?"

No more art from Christine Karamol ever.  If I could help it, she wouldn't exist anymore.  It would make all of this work so much more smoothly.  Christine Karamol is not an alter-ego, Ken Adams is not... they are the same.  Get use to it.  That's my only advice.

It is not part of my prerogative to have to explain that to anyone and for once in my life I'm going to stand on that.

Yes, I'll still post on here, from time to time.

And yes, I am hurt by the lack of interest from my so-called "friends" in particular with anyone who considers themselves an artist... but I should have been able to have predicted this.  I would be intimidated too.

I take that back.  I'm nearly offended (but not surprised) by almost everyone.

Especially my family, extended and otherwise.  Oh, how I've become an archetype... This is only but one of the ways...

I'm not really out to hurt anyone with this, as it's my least favorable activity on this planet, but it might happen. I acknowledge this. My apologies.

My feelings are capable of being hurt as well.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

A New Blogger!

Check it out here:  (because yes, the rabbit hole goes much deeper...)

I'll still post on this one, but it will be undergoing some renovation...

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Don't Fly Too Far Too Fast

As exciting, stimulating... mesmerizing, even, the notion of discovery can be, it's best if we always take a moment to consider the details.

The journey may have been good to us mostly but if we continue to allow the journey itself to be the only thing that guides us, then we're bound to end up in situations that can really cause detrimental harm, in all ways.

I reflect on this now as it has been a reoccurring theme in a large majority of the lives of the people I primarily concern myself with.  I suppose there must be something to that. (I try to say as nonchalantly as possible, but hardly mean it that way...)

Why?  That is indeed curious in itself.  I have a number of likely theories, but I'll keep them to myself for now.

More importantly, I would like to stress how crucial it is to remain grounded.  No matter the exploration, no matter the journey it is necessary to hold on to a few key markers of our own personal identities.

So what if we cannot define these keys, these fundamental fragments, if you will?  What if they're constantly changing?  What if we don't know where to place our next heading?  These are perfect indicators that we are moving too fast.  If we lose sight and don't hold on to at least these small concepts of ourselves and our reality then we will inevitably find ourselves lost.  We will find failure.  We may find something much, much worse.  The duration of time we can remain this way could be temporary, bruising our knees, or permanent, crippling us for life.  In short, it should not be taken lightly.  In most cases when we know not ourselves, we know not the consequences.  In fact, I'll be pretentious to go as far to say, in ALL cases...

So, ask yourself (as I've posed this question so many times in the past), "Do I really know who I am?"

Do you know what that means... to know yourself?  To what extent is even a bigger question.  I could tell you, I suppose, but it won't do you any good.  But what I can and will tell you is when you think you've found your answer, you haven't. 

Knowing one's self takes constant assessment.  I would go as far to say that it takes an exceptional effort at times.  Not only does it involve the assessment of ourselves and our accumulative experience, but of those around us as well.

Whether we choose to accept or not, we exist on multiple plains.  Ultimately, it's up to us if we want to accept these levels of consciousness  or shun them completely.  Either has its fair amount of consequence, positive and negative.

Personally, I recommend somewhere in-between.  Don't fly too far too fast but try your best to not become a boulder in a dull stream either.  Those who seek this "in-betweeness" come to understand that that's all it's about anyway, balance.  It is in the nature of balance to never fully comprehend it, thus balance would no longer have a meaning... and we're not to talking about ripping apart space and time... yet.

On balance, it's important to consider the validity of your perceptions.  Self-doubt is a good indication of sanity.  Simultaneously, a portion of insanity may just be what we need to progress.  This means more than just sounding cleverly worded.

Generally, as a self-rule, I don't write these sorts of things.  Somehow, it makes me feel, guilty... hypocritical.  Seeing as how I usually get massively irritated by the transparent intellectual/spiritual "revelations" of others, often biting my tongue until it bleeds.  If I've ever told you that my tongue was bleeding, and obviously it wasn't, yes, I insulted you.

However, my hopes are that by providing contrast of my personal, normal behavior and my feelings associated with (what I will say) "lightly" similar topics discussed by others, will stress this particular blog's significance.

I am confident that what I speak is truth.  It is not convoluted or really all that complex.  That being said, don't take it as innate knowledge, redundant fortune-cookie wisdom, or even basic intuition.  Even if these things are all true, this is also true:

The easiest things in life to take for granted are the simple ones.

You can take all of this at face value or read into it much further.  I'll let that be your choice, just as I always have.

Paraphrased (sorta) from an old, wise person (who may or may not be dead or perhaps never even existed):

An overly cautious person listens so intently that they lack the true sight to evaluate the situation properly, leaving them nowhere.

Inversely, someone who can't seem to keep their mouth shut, curiously tends to find themselves in a similar position.

However, for the wise, listening and waiting for the right moment is all that can be done.

Saturday, November 19, 2011


The soul of a violet is so vast, yet in a way so far gone. They are completely connected and disconnected simultaneously in a way that no other soul can ever achieve. They are few and far between and have a great burden/blessing unlike any other aura. They are the teachers. The listeners. The watchers. The protectors. The inspiration.

Monday, November 7, 2011

Some days you feel full of win.
I don't think I need to explain why this makes me feel that way.
The digital medium isn't exactly my forte, and honestly, I could have done this better if I just outright painted it, but this has been a wonderful learning experience for me.  Plus, it's nice to not have a giant mess of toxic chemicals to tend to after the fact.

And honestly, I can't afford these pigments.

I think I was going to elaborate, but I feel too proud of myself to care right now.  I think I prefer to revel in that than to drone on about Digital Vs. Traditional, Fan Art Vs. "Real" Art... and respect and blah blah... doesn't that say it all anyway?

Point being, as it always is, people irritate me, I like to complain about it, analyze it, explain it... but nah... not this time.

Oh, and to my good friend Alyssa, sorry I didn't participate in the Halloween drawing prompt that I helped to come up with, but I kind of got distracted.

I can't wait to print this off and hang it up!!

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Monday, October 24, 2011

Graphite... I love you.

So, this has started something big...
Picked up some old canvases from some random artists who posted on Craigslist today...
Let's see what happens.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

The meaning of Life

You know what friends are for? Showing you things like this...

Friday, October 21, 2011

Life in the Balance

As an anti-fan of cliche's I seem to start with them quite frequently...

Life? How's it been? As of late, one word can be used to describe it rather sufficiently; insane.
Out of the lot of them, "hectic" just didn't seem to quite describe it, "crazy" is so overused it's really lost it's value (hence my use of its much more attractive synonym), and "life-changing" you see is cheating because it's two words and too "no shit".

I just moved a 1000 miles away from the place I'm struggling to no longer call home. There will be no going back, not at least to my childhood home. And as monumental as that all seems, it's been sitting with me for so long and has been so much part of a process that I feel... not much, jaded, if you will. I left behind some cold weather, family, friends, fall, a wee bit of regret, resentment, but life goes on. If this hasn't communicated that message to me by now, nothing ever will...

But life really has gone on. I'm here. I did it. I'm happy.
Isn't it interesting how such a simple statement can be overlooked so easily? "I'm happy." Even after all of the stress of trying to find an apartment while essentially being homeless, with no job, no friends, odd addresses, and limited funds, and even after coming down from the initial high of getting settled in... I'm still happy.

Why? Because I'm not a melodramatic piece of shit who insists on my misery being a vital characterization of myself in which I learn to express my person in this relatively small world we live in. I knew there was light at the end of the tunnel, and sometimes, getting away is the best thing you can do for yourself. Finding that light, that was my proof. It's all I needed, and now... it's okay.

Sure, I'm scared. I really don't want to get a job that isn't relevant to the degree I spent so much time, money, and effort to obtain... but I probably will. I'm really not ready to make new friends (but I actually really am more scared that I won't). I'm afraid I'll miss my family (I already do). And I'm afraid I'll be forgotten by what I've left behind... but that is kind of liberating in a way, even if that does happen.

Christine Karamol, she's such a dynamic, easy-going, honest,strangely well-known (outside of BGSU), kind, multi-faceted person that most never really got to know. And, I'll accredit most of that to being my own fault... but oh well. My life was different. I'm in a relationship that is uncharacteristically developed for my age and have been for the past 8 years. I was such an amazing realist drawer at such a young age that by the time I reached college I was already bored with it... struggling to find what it really meant to create something beyond something pretty or impressive, and to let go of that pride that people won't see that raw talent that I've always attached my own identity to, how I made my path in the past, and fighting the urge to not go on and on in a way to justify no longer doing it. I was an outsider because I transferred in and I struggled at first to figure out how university life functioned and how my peers functioned that by the time I figured it out and began to embrace it for what it was, it was nearly over. And... it always makes it more difficult that I'm such an odd curiosity. I know it. It is what it is. But it's over. Thank God.

Now, here's my opportunity to kick ass. I've always been known to kick ass, let's not discredit me all too quickly, but on a much more grandiose level. I've already procured a certain level of obscure famedom, which I have all intentions of increasing. I have a book in the midst... and a new idea, a big new idea.
Ken Adams. He's a webcomic artist, or at least is aspiring to be. He's not nearly as dynamic as I am, but he'll probably be less likely to scare people away. I'm not denying myself at all, just strategically placing a facet of myself to the rest of the world that I feel will be received in a way that I would much prefer.

*Takes in a deep breath* I have so much to say, but I suppose with so many big things happening at once, it's reasonable. I never like to go on for too long, but this time it cannot be helped.

A few things I need to remember, no matter where I go or what I am doing:

1. Slow down. I'm not going to die tomorrow, and even if I do... oops... Even with everything I've done in the past month, I'm still work obsessed. I'm never doing enough. I moved a 1000 miles away from home, left everything I've ever been familiar with, taken the biggest risk that anyone out of my immediate families has ever taken, and I'm wigging out over the fact that I have no work to show in galleries right now. Despite the fact that my most recent project was so large that in order to move it, I have to pay a sizable multi K$$ POD unit to have it hauled down that I cannot afford to pay off for another several months, and most of my decent art supplies are also in storage... despite the fact that I still produce work, despite the fact that I've been making commissions all summer, despite the fact that I only settled into my apartment 3 days ago... I think I'm still not doing good enough. Think I need a chill pill? I do. "Oh no! It's only been a week and I don't have a 12 person posse to follow me around yet! I'm a failure and I'll never make the right connections in order to be a successful artist." Calm the fuck down... seriously. But, that is what kind of makes me pretty kick ass... Life in the balance, life is about balance.

2. Don't forget. Like a good man, Moofasa, once said, "Remember, who you are." And I will. I'm Christine Karamol, I'm Christine Karamol-Rahrig, I'm Dreadz, I'm KoRn-chick, Art Chick, The Kaiser. I'm from a small town in Northwest Ohio where the likes of Takashi Murakami, Damien Hirst, Chuck Close, hell... Frank Stella, mean nothing. Where a festival dedicated to poultry is the most anticipated event of the year, and Thomas Kinkade is the best artist ever.

I'm also a girl who grew faster than everyone, who's spent her life around an oddball family and a plethora of boys, around a grandmother who loved the villains best, and I've always been a puzzle piece that usually complimented the others but never quite fit. An actual, IQ tested genius who never told anyone until it became irrelevant, and who's closest company was a bunch of drug addicts. A former, bad-ass who then took kinship up with the losers, the misfits, the nerds. The one so charismatic, she could have had anyone... but stood up for the ones who had nothing. Attractive, but wore boy's clothes. Attractive, but never thought she was. I'm someone who has struggled with gender identity my whole life, still does, but now, at 23, finally admits it.

And finally, as it has been on my mind lately, I have a dedication to this homage/reflection pool of major life altering events...

To Isho-Cosplay,

    I have to be completely honest. When I first met Ritzy-kun at a convention that I was twisted into going to for the sake of publicity, I didn't think much other than, "Cool. Another fan girl." But how wrong I was. How meeting that "fan-girl" changed so much for me. We talked after that, online. She seemed pretty cool, but I didn't divulge that much attention into her more than I would anyone else. When she invited me to the the New Years cosplay party, I was... hesitant. When I realized that it was going to be at her grandmother's house (which don't get me wrong, I've had plenty of parties in the good company of my family but to a senior in college... it seemed... like it was traveling back to high school.) But I figured, hey, she seems to really admire me, the least I can do is show up in that ridiculous costume of mine and make her happy. So I did. I left that night feeling like my mind had been raped, for lack of a better, less offensive word.
    And to be honest it's because I had gotten so wrapped up in the world of snobby kids who think they're artists and that their life has more meaning because they're doing something so rogue. But meeting you guys reminded me what it really meant to be rogue... to not care what other people think about how other people viewed you because you were all so passionate to express yourselves with something you truly loved. How remarkable I find you all to be. It didn't take me long to really take a liking to you guys, but it happened all right before I left... and I didn't realize what I really had until it finally hit me that I was leaving it all. You guys gave me the gusto to finish that installation, whether you knew it or not. You gave me the balls to know that my Kaiser Kampaign videos were actually funny, and that I really had something to it. You let me know that when I was going to leave, it was going to be okay. I can still make friends and people still like me. I can still be admired and I cannot thank you all enough.
    One day on facebook I was tagged in a little "hypothetical" discussing the "Who will be what in the next 5 years..." I was tagged as, "The most likely to be famous." That's my goal. In what way, I'm still not sure, but if I achieve that, I honestly will dedicate a lot of that success to all of you. You little Kaislings ;) You started it all. But to be honest, thanks to you guys, I feel famous already. I will always be first and foremost, Isho-Cosplay's Kaiser.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

I will tell you the reasons

Why Derek is my best friend.

In the midst of mass disapproval of my most cherished relationship, my best friend stuck by my side. My best friend was happy for me. My best friend understood what Nathan really meant to me. My best friend wanted what was best for me, and not for himself.

During that time, my best friend embraced how this relationship had changed me greatly and even was interested in discussing those changes with me.

My best friend and I have had our differences, but having you back in my life once again, brought us closer together than ever before. With a different appreciation for who we were as individuals, as well as the true uniqueness that we shared as friends.

My best friend gives me the worst birthday cards ever.

We swim in caves during thunderstorms and eat fruitsnacks in peculiar natural wonders. We drink tequila because we truly love it, and walk barefoot outside on the pavement in January.

When we were young, but not too long ago, we created a world together. That world still exists today and has grown into something that would have been out of our comprehensions back then. That world still waits for you, and always will, when you're ready.

I put explosives in your birthday cake to tell you how much I love you.

My best friend and I are snobs and reciting that fact makes us grin.

My best friend and I, will conquer this world.

Derek, you know I can never say enough.

Your friend,

Friday, August 26, 2011


Nathan is one of the most incredible people that most will never truly come to know. He's incredibly reserved and figures it best to keep himself that way, but I wish I could explain. I really wish I could tell you why he is so beautiful.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Arrogance is inherent...

Honesty is harder to come by.

"Arrogant" is a term that is slung around so loosely these days. I say "these days" more out of cliche and digestible reading more than anything else. In the grand scheme of things, one can only speculate.

But that is significant isn't it? "The Grand Scheme of Things." It seems to hold a lot more weight when I place it in quotes and capitalize it.

So, what sort of capitalization do you make in your life? Markers of identity, if you will. How do you feel when I say, "I am an artist." VS "I am an Artist." ? I personally feel that the capitalization is incredibly unnecessary, yet so many seem to insist that I resort to it... given their own personal labels. There is a distinction. Labels are unavoidable. I won't waste my time talking about it.

Would it be arrogant of me to make that claim? No. Why? Who would deny it? I've expressed an explicit interest and an undeniable ability. This trait is commonly accepted and acknowledged by many. Although the term encompasses so much more, I meet the minimum requirements. This isn't really the point of my blog, but please, as a public service announcement: CHOOSE YOUR WORDS WISELY. It becomes incredibly offensive to those who have dedicated their person(s) to the idea. This goes for many other ideas and identities as well.

At any rate, I'm not really interested in getting caught up in this. It's just something that aggravates me on nearly a daily basis... that among so much more.

But honesty... honesty is what I'm truly interested in discussing, or rather putting out there for people to think about. How honest are you with yourself? And more importantly... "How do you know?"

"Because I know." Is not acceptable this time. (It hardly ever is.)

There is a method in gauging one's personal honesty. I don't mean what you tell others, but what you're really thinking when you're bragging about yourself. Do you really believe it? If you do, then why feel the need to express it? It should be obvious. I mean, if it's worth bragging about right? Perhaps not always. Maybe you're with a close friend... all of us like to talk about ourselves occasionally (I should know) without it being... well, arrogant.

*sighs* This is so difficult to express fully and properly...

At any rate, we all should know that we exist on 3 planes:
1. Our inner plane, how we feel and perceive ourselves.
2. Our middle plane, how people close to us "know" us.
3. Our outer plane, viewing from a distance. What would someone say browsing around on your facebook or seeing your appearance or perhaps just knowing what you do for a living.

Coincidentally, the second 2 have sooooo much to do with the first. Is it worth everything? No. But it certainly is worth a lot more than people give it credit for.

You have your inner thoughts, your inner feelings. You tell yourself "other people just really don't understand me for who I really am." Or "There is so much more to me than I let on." But I beg you this question: Are you certain??

I mean, why haven't they seen these things? Action and thought are two entirely different things and in the end, it's action that means so much more. Will the people in your life (especially those close to you) attest to these traits? Their opinion on who you are means a lot more than people would probably prefer. I say this because that would mean we would have to accept that we're not as awesome as we think we are, and that our lives are bleak, and overall, we're just not that special... for the most part. So, how do people become great? That's the beauty of it. The accept themselves for who they are and realize, it's not who they always have to be until that becomes a part of themselves.

Most of us measure our own personal self worth based on perceived potential, which is just a load of crap. If I can do anything, then why haven't I? Why am I not better? Potential has everything to do with what you would realistically do (which involves so many factors to list) and not with what you THINK you can do.

I just want others to consider the person next to them. You think you're special. You think or "know" (if I must really say it that way) you think differently. You will make a difference. And you know what, I believe you when you say those things... you know why... because I feel that way about myself. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt because there are so many things that I don't say, that I can't express. But I find so often that when people think this way about themselves, they have an excessively difficult time accepting it about others.

Some of the most brilliant people I know, are piss-poor at expressing themselves. They think/feel on a level that's difficult to perceive, and even more difficult to comprehend.

Oh, there is so much more that I want to say. So much I want to say on a regular basis.

What I struggle with the most is not giving into the temptation of shattering the illusions that people paint for themselves. Ironic really. I paint/create fantasy... yet I posses the ability to shatter another's. How do I know this... it's not like I haven't done it... many times before. What results, is incredible. I have plenty to attest to it. People whom I've created a bond with that will tell you exactly why, Christine Karamol is not arrogant, she is honest.

However, there must be a level of trust and patience that one must be able to accept and the person needs to be open to change. If not, then I will never tell you what I'm thinking. Not even a little bit. I will smile. I will add to your statements making it seem like I have a basic understanding (but not as deep as yours) of what it is you're speaking of. But what I possess is too potent. Dangerous. I love too much to unleash it when the timing is not right. Besides, if I did, that contradicts the point somewhat hm? It's not my place most of the time anyway. There are bigger giants to contend with who usually do a much better job.

Ask yourself, living in a glass jar your whole life, how do you know the glass isn't tinted?

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Alunae Short Story

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Due to this little box thing being stupid, the text did not copy the way I originally intended the font to appear, so italics and things of that creative nature are no longer present and I am too lazy to go back and change them... despite the fact that they are very essential to the way I want readers to read my work. C'est la vie. Welcome to the day in the life of the Alunae palace. This does not occur in the novel, but within the context of the story... make sense? If not, go away and please do not read this. You'll hurt yourself.

Lenoir's Shirt

It was late in the evening in the Alunae palace. Moments like these were hard to come by. It was peaceful, quiet. Somehow, Evelyn had managed to make it to bed before midnight.
She sighed, nearly in disbelief, at this hallowed event as she nestled down to a work of her favorite fiction. Reaching outward for her glass of water just placed within arm's reach, she had been thinking about how good she was going to feel from the quality rest she was about to experience, that is until she heard a knock on her chamber doors.
She peered over to the doorway vehemently, hoping that if she ignored whomever was standing outside long enough, would simply leave, if not to respect the hard working, most likely sleeping, Empress of Alunae then to leave purely out of impatience. No such thing must have been heard of in the Empire of Alunae these days, as the intruder of the peace persisted in their knocking.
Sighing once again, only this time in disdain, she didn't bother to remove herself from her bed.
"Who is it?" She asked, irritated.
An all-too-familiar voice responded, "It is I, your Majesty, Luc Lenoir."
For Luc, this was entirely not out of character thus removing what little concern Evelyn may have had before she heard his voice.
"What is it that you want?" She questioned, still not getting out of bed.
"Your Majesty! It is an emergency!"
At this, her expression shifted, appearing more concerned. She quickly got out of bed and tied her robe while approaching the door.
"An emergency?" She said as she gently opened the large chamber doors.
Luc pushed past her into her room with his arms up in the air. Evelyn shot a glare at her guards for allowing him to slip by so carelessly without her permission but said nothing and closed the door.
"Someone has stolen my shirt!"
Evelyn grabbed the spectacles off her face and aggressively rubbed her forehead, "Luc... that is not-"
He interrupted her, "I know, I know... you must be thinking, 'Luc, that is hardly an emergency...' "
"Whatever gave you that idea?" Her tone heavy in condescension.
"But you are wrong!" He continued, "For you see it is not just any shirt, but a fine, golden, silk shirt that I had custom tailored and received only but yesterday!"
Evelyn made her way back over to her bed, not hesitating to get back under the covers, "What do you want me to do about it?"
"Well, I know precisely who did it...." Luc came over to Evelyn's bedside and stood just in a way where the light from one of her candles would be blocked by his body only to be unblocked once again whenever he shifted. Thus, elevating her frustration level even further.
"...And?" She stared at him apathetically.
"It was Durkin! I want you to arrest him!" He exclaimed passionately and plopped on the end of the Empress' bed.
Evelyn shook her head in disbelief, "First of all, how do you know it was Durkin? Secondly, even if it were Durkin, I am not going to arrest him for supposedly stealing your shirt. Why would he want any of your shirts anyway?"
"Because he is a thief and is jealous of me! Is it not a crime to steal your Majesty?" His eyes seemed so profoundly round at that moment.
"So, those are your grounds for accusing Durkin? Luc, I sincerely hope that someday you realize how absurd this is and how self-centered you are for thinking it was a valid reason to interrupt my evening." Evelyn pulled the covers over her head and turned to her side that was facing away from the pestilence that was currently Luc Lenoir.
Luc appeared to feel a bit of remorse, but it became soon apparent that was not the case, "Those were not the only grounds! He was in my chambers earlier today discussing it. He was aptly admiring my shirt's beauty as it was hanging from my wardrobe. Then, I went to take care of a quick matter and when I returned, it was gone! As was that thief Durkin!"
"Luc..." Evelyn began from under the covers.
"Yes your Majesty?" Luc responded, hopeful. He was certain that the Empress would understand where he was coming from now and would not allow such a misdeed to go unpunished.
"Go away."


The next morning Evelyn awoke not feeling as rejuvenated as she had hoped. However, she had risen earlier than she had anticipated due to going to bed earlier than anticipated. So she had decided to make her way down to the kitchen, the only place that was likely to have anyone awake at this hour.
"Good morning my dear Empress!" It was not who she had expected, but none to her surprise standing in front of her was Durkin, clad in a shirt that didn't seem to fit his particular sensibilities.
"What do you think of my new shirt?" He questioned cheerily.
Evelyn looked Durkin up and down and let out a small laugh before responding, "Oh, it's just lovely!"
Evelyn looked around the kitchen, "I wasn't expecting to see you in here. Where's Rodger?"
"I gave him the morning off." Durkin smiled in a way that suggested an ulterior motive.
Evelyn began warming a kettle over the stove, "Oh did you now? I didn't realize that the head of palace security had such abilities..."
"More like I said I would cover for him this morning. I do love cooking and I rarely get to do it these days."
She looked at the shirt one more time, "Cooking in such a fine shirt hm? Better be careful."
"You needn't worry! I am the embodiment of cleanliness!" His arms outstretched now holding a spatula he was about to cook with.
"I'm sure." If it hadn't been so early, she would have been laughing.
She shook her head and grabbed a teacup from one of the cupboards.
"What are you doing?" Durkin snapped.
"I was just getting a cup for my tea..."
"Not in my kitchen!" Durkin snatched the cup from her hands, "Now you get out and wait in the dining hall. I will bring you your tea and your breakfast shortly."
Evelyn's eyes opened wide, somewhat surprised, but secretly it just amused her all the more. So, she followed Master Chef Durkin's orders and sat in the dining hall only to find a deflated Luc, already seated, his head buried in his arms on the table.
"Luc!" Evelyn began.
He let out a long, sorrowful sigh, his head still buried, "Good morning your Majesty."
"You're up early." She took a seat next to him.
He lifted his head, somberly, "I couldn't sleep."
"This isn't about that shirt is it?"
"Yes. It is about that shirt but obviously I will be receiving no sympathy or assistance in the matter since you do not care." He was marvelously pathetic.
She placed her hand on his shoulder, "Oh Luc, of course I care."
His expression lifted almost immediately.
"In fact, I care so much that the very mention of the incident brings far too much agony to my very soul. You probably shouldn't talk about it anymore."
Luc's eyelids sunk, glaring at his beloved Empress with every ounce of his person.
She smiled, "Honestly Luc, I'm sure it will turn up at some point."
"You are suggesting that I misplaced it, well, I am telling you that I did not!"
"That's quite enough."
At this Luc became incredibly discouraged and stood up.
"Where are you going? Aren't you staying for breakfast?" She asked, anticipating what would be a hilarious confrontation."
"No. I cannot eat at a time like this." He began heading towards the door.
"Oh, for the love of the Goddess Luc!"


Later on that day Evelyn was down at the stables just getting back from a leisure ride on her horse Aaleyah.
"Oh! Your Majesty!" Durkin appeared from around the corner the way where he would make it seem like fancy coincidence, but, it never was.
"Durkin." She observed that he was still wearing that golden shirt from earlier. He looked stupid in it.
"Still wearing Luc's shirt I see?" She handed her reigns to the stable boy.
"Luc's shirt?" He was doing a poor job of lying.
Evelyn smiled wearily in his direction while taking the brush from the stable boy's hand, "Yes, Luc's shirt!"
"Do you think that Mister Lenoir is the only one around here to possess such exquisite tastes?" He looked down at himself fully realizing how ridiculous he looked and began laughing.
"There you have it." She began brushing out her horse's mane, "Are you going to give it back?"
"Give what back?"
She paused and stared back at him.
"...yes, of course. I just wanted to get him worked up for a minute or two."
She resumed what she was doing, "Well, just do it sooner than later. He's driving me nuts and I have a feeling that his productivity will be even worse than usual."
"Well, we certainly don't want that now do we?"
"I'm surprised you haven't run into him yet, seeing as how he is convinced that you are the one who stole it."
Durkin's jaw fell open, "What nerve! He thinks I would do such a thing? Lenoir is more perceptive than I initially gave him credit for."
After a brief pause he continued, "Yes, I'm surprised that I haven't run into him either. I've been attempting to all day now. Quite frankly, I'm rather disappointed."
Evelyn shook her head and laughed, "I'm disappointed it didn't happen at breakfast. He was in there moping just before you came in with my tea."
"That close, huh?"
"Yes, I would have loved to have seen it. Alas, good fortune is not on my side today."
"Well, you're Majesty, it's been pleasant, but I must be off." He flashed his standard Durkin grin.
"Where are you off to?"
"Oh, I promised the Captain I would help clean up the mess from last night's fight in the barracks."
"Fight in the barracks? What did you do?"
Durkin stopped in his tracks and turned around, "Why would you assume it was me, Empress Evelyn?"
"Hm, why else would you help Jonathan clean up a mess from a fight that you had no hand in? Or are you really that intent on dirtying that shirt there?"
He looked down to the shirt, "Well, if it's the shirt you're fretting over, no worries! I can't say the same for that poor chap's face though."
"What? What happened to who's face?"
"Have a pleasant afternoon, your Majesty." Durkin waved with his back turned, walking away from Evelyn.


"Oh, Adeline, can you please tell me something?"
"What is it Master Luc?"
"Why is it that I think that when I return to my wardrobe my shirt will just appear?" Luc was leaning against his wardrobe, the doors still closed and his head pressed to the back of his hand.
She looked confused, "I... I don't quite know..."
"Because I am crazy! That must be it! Tell no one Adeline! Do not speak of how the great Luc Lenoir has officially gone mad. No! Actually, it is up to you to tell the world of this horrible crime. I will be a martyr for all injustices done onto men such as myself, with no one to stand up for them... so it is that they can see the horrific outcome."
Just as his servant was about to respond, Luc opened his wardrobe, only to find his golden shirt, in plain sight. Perfectly pressed, and just as he left it, it prevented Adeline to comment.
"What is this? Is it true? My shirt? It has been here the whole time? But... but I looked here!" Luc exclaimed rather loudly.
"What's with all the noise?" Durkin slung through one of Luc's windows.
"Durkin!" Luc responded, instantly annoyed.
"What right do you have to come in here like that? Have you no respect for other people and their privacy?" He continued.
"Of course I do Lenoir, but when I heard the yelling as I was doing my rounds, I felt it was my duty to come and investigate. I am the head of palace security you see." Durkin was standing right next to Luc now. He reached out and touched the sleeve of Luc's shirt that Luc had been holding out in front of him, "Oh, I see you found your shirt. That would explain the excitement."
"What are you doing? You filthy peasant boy! Do not touch my shirt! You'll soil it!" Luc sneered at Durkin, pulling the shirt away aggressively.
"Mister Lenoir! I am a patient man, but I'm finding my patience running thin with your inexplicable animosity towards me. How have I wronged you, so as I can seek the most appropriate way to correct it?" Durkin held his palms towards the ceiling.
"Those are some big words coming from you but there is nothing you can do. You are beneath me. Accept it. That is just the way things are. Now please leave." Luc waved his hand, motioning for Durkin to leave.
Durkin let out a heavy sigh, "I also hear that you thought I stole your shirt. Now, I'm not of noble blood, such as yourself, for I am but a mere, poor orphaned boy and I may not know much about these sorts of things, but where I'm from... which isn't saying much, people don't hold grudges for crimes that they know the person did not commit."
Luc hesitated before responding, "That is not true."
"No, it's not. But, can't you find pity in your heart and know that I only wish to serve your best interests Master Lenoir?" Durkin went down on one knee and bowed his head.
Luc squinted down at Durkin, who was on the floor before him. He continued standing there, mulling over what Durkin had said, "Alright. Alright! Fine! Get up!"
"Thank you, Master Lenoir." Durkin stood and placed his hand on Luc's shoulder.
"You are most welcome Durkin, now please leave."
Durkin smiled then exited back out the window.


"Good morning your Majesty!" Luc beamed, strutting down the hallway.
"Good morning Luc." Evelyn looked Luc up and down and smiled.
"What do you think?" He motioned to his newest outfit, complete with the golden, silk shirt.
"It's remarkable, truly." She responded softly.
"What is even more remarkable, your Majesty is that this shirt that I had been searching for this whole time was in my wardrobe! It is the strangest thing really." He followed by her side with a nice spring in his step.
"And do you know what I find even more remarkable than that even?"
He looked back at her with his glimmering, hazel eyes.
"That I actually prefer that shirt on Durkin."
Evelyn continued down the hall while Luc remained, his arms dead at his sides.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

What I will miss...

The cool descent into death,
the lingering breaths of life, fading... sweetly, and with flawless transition.

A trigger,
A stimulus,
Electrifies the air.
One last celebration before the end.

I will miss you my darling. But we will meet again.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Anything you can do...

1. I'm a crossdressing freak in a "heterosexual" marriage.

2. Surprisingly Bananas do NOT turn me on.

3. Speaking of Bananas, guess where there's always money?

4. Were you thinking of whoring yourself out?? What's wrong with you? I was going to say, "there's always money in the banana stand."

5. I get too many text messages everyday.

6. Also, speaking of being more popular than you, I can no longer keep up with my deviantart messages due to the exponential increase of my awesomeness.

7. Did I mention I also have too many commissions anymore that I can't even keep up with them.

8. This is probably the most distasteful thing I've ever done, which is really a great remark on my overall character.

9. Loves Irony.

10. My Little Pony is such a great show.

11. Believe it or not, that last statement was NOT an ironic one.

12. That one was really 8 onto itself, in case you weren't witty enough to understand.

13. I'm not trying to make you feel bad about that, just pointing out fundamental differences making this a worthy statement in my "25 things" series.

14. I wish I could be an ass more often.

15. I'm incredibly glad to think that I have college behind me, until I go to grad school anyway.

16. Suddenly feels compelled to be more serious.

17. Wishes her best friend was closer to her.

18. Doesn't like using the pronoun, "her" in reference to (her)self.

19. Really digs the newest experimental Mountain Dew "Pitch Black."

20. Worries that this will somehow make her fat, despite her insanely healthy diet, active lifestyle, and the ability to have never weighed past 160.

21. Flirts with wanting an eating disorder. But... has never had one.

22. Is too smart to have medial physchological/physiological "disorders" define who (s)he is.

23. Cannot listen to enough Electronica, techno, house, bass... yadda yadda... music.

24. Listens to the same song 5xs in a row, religiously.

25. Probably works harder than most of her peers who make money.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Now I'm serious...

Way back when, I mentioned something about getting back into digital painting... now I find myself in the appropriate place to do so... So, here's what I've got so far.

Friday, June 10, 2011

On the Precipice

About three times a year this happens to me... I don't eat, I don't want to sleep, and I feel like I've had 5 cups of coffee within an hour, all the time. That may be an explanation for the first two... alas, I'm not much of a coffee drinker. *looks to top of blog* Ahem... tea time.

Anyway, usually what results is an explosion of creativity. Usually, that's exciting... but this time I'm scared, and I don't mean that melodramatically.

I really am. Here's why:

Usually, I'm surrounded by other people, (they don't realize their main purpose is to keep me grounded during these times)... but this time... I'm around 2 boys that know me almost too well. Or rather, I should say, I know too well. I can run around like mad and get away with murder because they know... when it gets to this point... there is no turning back, so they just let it happen... well, one let's it happen awaiting the magical results or the catastrophic meltdown and the other has no clue what to do whatsoever. But, in short, it helps to have others around that I can bounce ideas around with, make stuff with... you know, that general flim-flam. But, I don't have that.

Right now, most of my stuff is in storage and this includes most of my art supplies. I'm left with a few sketchpads, some watercolors, elmer's glue, and craft foam. That's fine, really. Limitations often expand the mind to possibilities, but limitations on someone who's going to explode only adds fuel to the fire.

And, did I fail to mention... did you see the last mega-creation I came up with? It was insane. The product of over a year's worth of planning and seven months of hard-labor.

How do you follow up with something like that? The resources it took to create that thing alone are crippling as it is... to make a simple painting on a canvas feels like I'm taking 20 steps back. But I can't just make another room... I don't think I want to anyway.

What's happening to me right now is just a classic set of two separate cases.

1. The first being a "I just got out of college case and I don't know what to do with myself."
-What makes my case a little different isn't the fact that I'm burnt out and I want don't want to do anything, or even that without guidance I lack direction, it's just I have too many avenues that I want to pursue. I have my webcomic that I desperately want to get up and running, commissions that I'm in the middle of, too many costumes to list that I want to make, characters concepts to draw, landscapes inspired by my novel I want to render, my novel itself, the desire to want to prove my fine finesse of technical ability... it makes me want to pull my hair out. All the while, I'm struggling with the idea of how to present myself physically as that has become for some reason, yet another art project. I'm madly and hopelessly obsessed and it's getting in the way of being obsessed.

2. The second is just part of a predictable cycle that I go through... read into that what you will. I live with it well enough most of the time.

This time though, I can feel it. I tingle... everywhere, if that makes sense. I can't sit still and nothing seems good enough. It's like laughing and crying at the same time, 100% effort put into each.

But honestly, I'm just a little worried. I'm afraid of this precipice. It's always messy. I'm not worried that I'll come out with poor results, but I know I'll come out with some amount of damage to add to the collective. Chippin' off the stone, if you will. I'm going to be a funny looking stone.

I guess we'll just see what happens.

Photo courtesy of "socoolisme" on Deviant Art and youtube

Monday, June 6, 2011

Is it time?

Is it the time to talk about what I have been avoiding? Is it the time to slow down for a moment and think about the sum of my life up until this point? I've been putting it off and the funny thing is, it's not a requirement. I've just been meaning to. It's quite an undertaking though, really.

The last 5 years of my life retrospectively, make me question how much can really happen in such a relatively short amount of time, but then "relatively" makes me think too how short it all really is. Before I go on a cliche escapade about life, I'll save us all the agony and stop here.

Thinking back makes me hopeful, angry, happy, indifferent, worried, blessed, excited, but overall, lost. Could you tell? Right now is one of those pivotal moments. I'm packing my bags quite literally and figuratively as I begin the next phase of my life. Recently, I'm relieved and hurt by the lack of interest of people in my life that I honestly believed would have still been around. How the selfishness of people never ceases to amaze me and how the extent of their own insecurities disallows them from experiencing something that truly could be beautiful. Yet, I hold faith, and I'll never let go. It's why it keeps happening to me over and over again. I trust people. My tragic flaw I suppose, but I must admit, I'd rather be charmingly clumsy... but who wouldn't? Actually, I take that back. My flaw is better. My flaw holds out for better rewards in the long distance race.

So much has happened, it utterly overwhelms me. The places I've been, the people I've met, the people I've lost, the relationships that have grown or have been born, the ones that have deteriorated. Life never moved so quickly prior to the last 5, more really the last 3 years.

I'm a college graduate now. That's nice.

Really? Where am I now? I'm not sure. I'm not entirely certain I care to figure it out either. I do know that I strive for ambiguity and to be as free from labels as possible. More really, free from limitation. So, I'm a painter... okay? Can I not dance? Can I not make music? Can I not create costumes or create fiction? So I have a vagina... and?? What's it to you? Does it change anything to the rest of the world? Must I look "feminine?" And if I care not to look feminine, must I be the antithesis? Are there only 2 choices? The grey areas are far more fascinating and liberating. There be truth in them rainclouds.

Somedays I care so little for my physical presence that I wished I would disappear.

You know what, that's what I've gotten out of all of this. My soul just doesn't belong here. As happy as life makes me, and as much as I love people and life and music... I don't want to be here. I live for you. I live to entertain you. I live to comfort you, to sing you to sleep, to guide you, to love you, to let you know that next time, you'll be okay without me. You can do it and you are strong, and you're on the verge of greatness and truth.

I live for the plants and the animals.

Fortunately, for you, those reasons are more than a good enough reason to live.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

The Old Cereal Bowl

Same old cereal, same old cereal bowl. It's all too familiar. I'm in a place where all the objects are the same, but everything is different. I'm not beginning a new chapter, I'm beginning a new book. My parents are still my parents, but they're so different. This last year has really changed them, for the better I might add (not that they were bad before). Maybe it wasn't just the last year, but maybe, it's been the last 3. I've been away for so long, so caught up in the chaos. I'm incredibly different now too. I've changed the more in the last year than I think the collective sum of my whole life, what a statement, but I really find it to be true.

I'm done with school. It still hasn't sunk in yet. I'm moving to Florida in the matter of a few indeterminate months. Will I take you with me? The better question: Should I?

I've been thinking about that a lot recently. I have a terrible time letting go, even if someone isn't worth holding onto (for me anyway). I think, "There's always that chance."
I think, once that's actually panned out successfully... although, I admit, I've really got my hopes stocked into another.

Usually, when write blogs like this I like to do it in a way that is somewhat poetic and inspiring... but this is what it is. And in case it's been too cryptic thus far, what I'm really saying or asking myself is...

Who do I hold onto and who do I leave behind? It's inevitable, you know.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Because I can

Mar Say Mar

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

"Great spirits have always found violent opposition from mediocre minds. The latter cannot understand it when a man does not thoughtlessly submit to hereditary prejudices but honestly and courageously uses his intelligence and fulfills the duty to express the results of his thoughts in clear form."
-- Albert Einstein

Friday, April 15, 2011

Eli's Tea Party

Eli's Tea Party
"Hello friend." It was, what I would like to call, his "signature line."
Every weekend it was the same. Sunday afternoon, 2 PM, the low-chimed doorbell would bellow throughout Eli Grey's mansion. Other than the ticking of the imposing grandfather clock in the entrance and the slight shuffle of my own footsteps it was the only sound that would be heard throughout the duration of the week, at least until Sunday afternoon.
Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong.
"Hello friend."
Tuesday afternoon a person with a package arrives at the door.
"Have a good day, friend."
Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong.
Friday morning another package would arrive.
Every week it was relatively the same. Shift Tuesday for Wednesday on occasion but on Friday morning there was always a package waiting. I had been interested as to what the packages contained but I had yet to find out.
Eli Grey was a curious man, but I had never really spoken to him, with the exception of, "Your tea, sir." and, "Is there anything I can get for you, sir?" For as much as he had paid me, he required very little of my services.
"Good afternoon, my darling!" And it began. Mrs. Darjeeling came bursting through the door dressed entirely in red, just as she always had. And just as she always had, she grabbed Eli by the shoulders and aggressively kiss each of his cheeks, left then right.
Behind her, a full montage of eccentrics awaited their turn to greet The Eli Grey, always in the same order and always wearing the same identifying attire. Each had their own way of greeting the tall, withered man that I had yet to understand what made him so great. As soon as the last had entered, Mr. Oolong in his usual blue leisure suit, I progressed to the kitchen to begin making tea as they made their way over to the lounge room.
By the time I would finish and deliver the tea and biscuits, the room would already be thick with pipe smoke. I would then assume my position by the doorway and wait until they needed anything. Sometimes it would be more sugar, playing cards, or even Brandywine perhaps. It was the most I ever got to do all week.
Generally, I wouldn't even listen to their conversations merely for the fact that they were so exclusive in their hashing of the past and the good ol' days that were simply beyond my comprehension. However, one detail I never failed to observe was just how little Mr. Grey would speak.
I often wondered why these boisterous individuals would enjoy the company of someone so quiet, so reserved, so grim really. The man looked completely sleep deprived and even though he always carried a smile while these people were around, there was something completely unnerving about it.
"Mr. Black, my dear. Would you be so kind as to brew us another pot?" Mrs. Darjeeling beamed a smile.
"Of course." I responded, bowed, then exited.
When I returned with a new pot of tea, everyone was moving quietly around the room, seemingly collecting their belongings.
"It appears that one of us has expired for the evening." Mrs. Darjeeling whispered.
I walked over to the coffee table, placing the pot of tea and looked over to Mr. Grey who was asleep in the chair..
"Be sure to tell him it was a pleasure as always." One of them commented from behind.
They all showed themselves out as they usually did and I sat down in the chair next to Mr. Grey, waiting for them to fully leave.
Once they were gone and the sounds of their vehicles could no longer be heard, all that was left was the ticking of the clock.
"Mr. Grey."
Tick. Tick. Tick...
"Mr. Grey, it is unlike you to sleep downstairs. Would you like for me to prepare a bed for you down here?"
Tick. Tick. Tick...
I looked over to Mr. Grey once more. He was still. I looked over to the pot of tea and poured myself a cup, sitting with the stillness and the grandfather clock.

Christine Karamol

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

The Village of Delta

In Bowling Green, it's cold and it's windy. The temperature is not nearly what it should be nor what it needs to be for this time of year. It's depressing and it's stressful. Overall, the people here don't expect much. Life progresses in what seems a standardized pattern and any deviations from that pattern generally leads to an upheaval of some sort. It's also surrounded by corn fields and it's an amazing surprise that there are a few stores on main street that aren't part of some recognizable franchise or chain.

That very same description fits the town I grew up in... minus the fact that it's not a town, it's a village and everything that was stated above is in fact true, only intensified. In Bowling Green, it's windy; In Delta, it's windier. In Bowling Green it's cold, depressing... In Delta...
So what's the difference? 45 miles? I hardly think that's enough to constitute a whole lot of anything. There's more people here, less there... a few more buildings here to block the wind...

To be honest, I don't think there is a damned difference.

This past weekend, the weather finally broke (only to damn us with its predictable let-down). I spent a good portion of Sunday driving around the places I'm most familiar... walking in those places. It's going to be one of the last times I'll ever get to. Some of it I enjoyed... the parts where I was surrounded by trees and not another soul was in sight. Some of it I completely detested. Most of it, actually. The wide open spaces of nothing. The stale lingering of nothing in the air. The great nothing as you looked out into the nothing and thought about nothing.

I don't think initially you can really comprehend how profound that is coming from me.

There's something to the abyss, to the quiet moments. Much can be said with nothing at all. I find the flatness of this place to be stunning, the shifting of the corn stalks to be one of the quietest, most beautiful songs that most will never hear. Whirling of the wind, seen only looking over the wheat fields, and the golden finches that I relentlessly tease with my mimicry calls for food. I will miss it. I'll miss the beautiful rural sunsets and the violent, mesmerizing storms that you can see in a way that you can't see anywhere else. I'll probably miss that most of all.

I'll miss the smell of dead leaves and an autumn that truly is magical to me. Hell, I'll even miss the hicks on their four-wheelers and getting stuck behind farm equipment so large and bizarre looking, that after 22 years of living around it, I still couldn't tell you what it is. I always wondering if I could drive under that one that sits really super high... you know the one...

So why is it that driving around these places I feel so... disgusted?? I almost feel irritated and angry. Living in Bowling Green for some reason, I feel like I'm encased in a bubble that is just enough rose-colored that I don't lose my mind. I think by now you must have some sort of an inkling.

Don't get me wrong, there's something I truly admire about the simplistic nature of the lives that have molded and shaped me. Actually, I strive for a greater state of simplicity. I will admit that my life is far too convoluted and insane right now. I hardly have a minute to take anything in, let alone enjoy a shower or a book or a TV show. However, I believe what I seek is a more complete state of simplicity that can only come from venturing out of it to begin with. See where I'm going with this? Not to overgeneralize but Delta is a small town (*cough* village *cough*) with small people (some wonderful people too)... and don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with being small... we're all small in the long run but I think it's good to know that and truly understand it. For me Delta (or just NW Ohio, or maybe Ohio in general... and probably Indiana and Michigan too) represents failed dreams and mediocre desires. As one of my favorite songs state, "I want more, more than just okay." And I mean so much more. (Oh, and it also means unacceptably cold and LONG winters that put me into a depression so bad every year that sometimes I honestly want to die, and I'm not being melodramatic.)

It's not about money (I am an artist after all), it's not about fame, or proving that "I did it. I got out." (okay maybe that a little bit.)

And to be honest, I'm already fairly aware of the fact that places really don't change that much, but what does change is our experiences. It's been said plenty of times before in numerous amounts of ways but you really don't realize how much you don't know until you know just a little bit more. And when you know just a little bit more, you want to know a little bit more after that... it's probably the most brilliant perpetual motion machine with increasing velocity... the problem is, getting it started... and you won't even know until you've come to the point that I have. Perhaps not even the same point, but it's the point where you look around and you realize that there's always something to gain no matter where you are, but it's time to move on... whether that's a state of mind, a very literal action, or a little of both. It's just time to move on.

You know, when that time comes... and it'll be here real soon (not soon enough), I'll cry. I'll cry probably on and off the whole way down to Florida. I'll cry because I'll miss my family. I'll cry because I'll miss other people. I'll cry because I'll miss the fall, and apples, and country boys, and lower IQs, and lilacs, and lake Erie, and Cedar Point, and Hocking Hills, and small town festivals for every fruit and vegetable and boring parades, and damn... I'll miss Delta. I'll also cry because I'm scared and because I'm excited. I'll cry for what I've already lost, what I've gained. I'm sure I'll miss both of my grandmothers because those things have a way of lurking into your mind when you're upset about irrelevant matters. Most of all, I'll just miss Ohio. I can see myself in so many places, but when you get down to it, I'll always be from here and even though I'm leaving, Ohio will never leave me (and right now that sounds a little depressing maybe even scary... but in the end, I think it's positive lol).