Hidden in Plain Sight

As Cassie and I departed the Lake District, I officially hit burnout. We stopped at a convenience store on the edge of a tiny village to get some nourishment. I pulled our car alongside a quiet side street on a hill, and noticed the top of a mountain peeking out of a trees in the distance. Though zapped of energy and wanting nothing more than to eat my sandwich and sleep, I decided to explore a grove of trees quickly before we moved on. As walked up the small incline around a curve in the road, the brush opened up to this ivy-draped house, perfectly framed by a mountain range.

One part of Lake District that I’ve never heard mentioned is the difficulty in stopping to photograph because the roads are the size of a small car, most are lined with tight stone fences, and vehicles are rapidly driving both ways, including large transport trucks. This is not only terrifying while using a rental, it makes it nearly impossible to photograph a good portion of anything, which I realized was a challenge to stay present and simply enjoy the moment. It also helped me to appreciate when I was able to capture something as pretty as this image without the need to watch for traffic.

These little moments remind me that even when things feel tough or anxiety-inducing, always pay attention to your intuition. It will start to tingle when you’re on the verge of something amazing. Keep your eyes open. You never know who you will run into, or what beauty you will stumble upon around the corner.

I miss simpler days.

It can be emotionally exhausting to be an empathetic human in a world full of ego, confusion, war, and power struggles. 🌼

The more I grow, the more I realize a good portion of my time is devoted to reading through initial conversations and reminding myself to process underlying intentions before I judge or respond. Some people are overwhelmed by desires, anxiety and circumstances, and sometimes they don’t realize they’re wrapped up in a storm cloud of emotion and can’t see how they’re using others. Hell, I have to stop myself from doing the same thing sometimes.

I think being accountable for my actions and respecting everyone around me is how I live my truth, and being an open, honest individual is my super power. The hard part is accepting the fact that not everyone can process at my level, and sometimes that makes me miss being young, naive, and unaware of the complexities of this world.

My goal moving forward is to spend a ton more time being introspective, bringing back simpler days, and saturating my life with people who just get me. I might FaceTime a good friend and make a recipe. Catch up on life lessons and mood boards. Sit at a restaurant and have silly conversations. Have a sleepover where I talk about boys, start a meme battle, or simply doodle on my couch, center myself, and remember that my mental state has so much to do with my reality, and I can craft my own happiness within that reality. Those simple, impactful moments make all the difference in how I process the world and my interactions with it.

Here’s to bringing back simpler days, happier interactions, and friendships based on compassion and understanding.

Baby Phen would be so proud

I’ve started to doodle again.

This is my memory of Duluth, Minnesota, where I attended college. I had an obsession with the hills and trees and the radio antennae on those hills. I used to think of them as mechanical flowers that I could plant and grow entire fields of. Whenever I create a piece of work, it comes directly from my brain and memories, not photographs, which also transports me to a place which usually has an entire story behind it. (It’s quite possible this will lead to a pretty cool project in the future.)

Drawing hasn’t been just a hobby or a passing phase, it’s something I’ve loved and been pretty good at since I was a kid. I used to sit in church and draw on a yellow notepad for the entirety of the service. People from time to time would call me out for being rude or not paying attention, but I could retain whatever was said during my creative sessions, since drawing uses the opposite side of your brain. (I also had very little interest in paying attention to any adult as a kid, let alone a pastor.)

I recall drawing for hours and filling out entire notebooks with cut scenes from mansions, car factories, cities, and ships, most likely inspired by one of my favorite books from childhood, “Incredible Cross-Sections” by Stephen Biesty, which is literally one of the coolest illustrated collections of art that exists. I learned three-dimensional renderings with charcoal and pencil through high school and took figure drawing courses in college to perfect my art, which brought me tons of inspiration.

…then smartphones came along.

I can’t actually blame technology for my a creative slump, for killing my desire to hold pencils and paper and create, but I feel the death of my illustration coincided with the iPhone launch. (and of course being an adult with very adult things to do that took priority.) This was a full 10 years of my life where I stopped drawing. When the iPad came out and I realized I could doodle again digitally, inspiration surfaced, and now I’m making doodles on Procreate for iPad for fun.

I sincerely miss creating tactile media with charcoal, pen, and pencil, as it hits differently—there’s a more intimate connection to your work. I don’t miss the mess that happened every time from being left-handed and dragging my hand over the unsettled media (typically leading to me looking like I have a mechanical robot virus taking over my body!) I might pick up the analogue version one day soon, but digital is a great place to start.

Taking time to create just for myself has become very theraputic, and I’m connecting with my inner-child-illustrator Phen yet again, who’s starting to bubble up way more frequently. I couldn’t be more happy about that.