I've moved!

It's time to move! I'm still blogging but I've graduated to middle school so you can find me here:

http://rebekahafromthemilkyway.com/

Irony

You know that Alanis Morisette song? Ironic? 

"A traffic jam when you're already late, a no smoking sign on your cigarette break..it's like 10,000 spoons when all you need is a knife." 

Yeah, that one. 

6 months have passed since I walked away from a career. I knew it was time to go. Every day, I'd look out the window and I swear I'd see a flashing sign that says "You have choices. Stop wasting your life doing something that makes you feel this awful." 

You'd think I was dissecting children for a living. No, I was just selling groceries. Utterly bored and uninspired, but earning a salary. The only thing (well, a couple of people, too) that I dearly miss. 

I had prayed for 4 years (at least) that the company would offer severance packages. I was not quiet about wanting to volunteer for one if the option was ever there. It would be the perfect scenario. I would get a year of salary while I was soul searching. It's easier to figure life out when you don't have to worry about money. My wish never came. And I was so tired of depending on a "what-if" scenario as my escape route. 

Yesterday, the company came through. My favorite co-worker received her golden ticket. The holy grail package. She gets to go and for a year, will be paid to do whatever it is that she wants to do. Did someone just kick me in the stomach? 

There Alanis, put that in your ironic pipe and smoke it.

I have no idea why life works this way but the dots are supposed to connect some day. We all get what we need, but without understanding the larger picture, it's hard not to wonder why it appears to work for some and not others. 

I'm living in envy land right now. When you're self-employed and working alone, you need to find a ladder out of this place. Stat! It's unproductive and self destructing to live here. 

Since I don't know how the dots connect, I'm going to assume that I needed the experience. The thought rungs to get me out of this envy land;

-Maybe I needed the experience to trust my inner whispers enough to make the decision to go without a safety net. 

-the experience to be gutsy, to believe in myself without knowing the future

-maybe I needed the kick so I could have a success story one day that is a testament to "following your inner compass".

-maybe I inspired one other person to act on their heart

I'm not sure of much lately, but I do know we have the power to chose our reactions. Every single one of them. 

I'm going to choose to keep trudging along. To just "do me" and know there has to be something to all this "follow your joy" propaganda. 

I'm going to celebrate my co-workers luck and talk her off the ledge when she's feeling stuck because after all, I have 6 months more experience at this than she does.

Oxygen Stealers

I've inherited the presence of people in my life. We don't share any DNA, but we do share oxygen about 3 times a year. 

We do not, however, share any of the same values. He doesn't get me, I don't get him. 

I am female and do not share blood so according to his rules of social engagement, I'm usually classified somewhere between fly on a cow's ear and discarded potato peelings.

You get what you give. 

I broke his rules. I quit a job. He can't take it. And now he wants to talk. I can't explain anything to someone who can't control their eyebrows. (Which, at this point, are permanently raised and possibly twitching...)

I can't explain happiness to someone that doesn't ever entertain the possibility of it. I don't know how to explain joy when it's never been a priority. And I certainly can't maintain a conversation when hope and potential isn't in someone's vocabulary.

My ego wants to punch him. My heart wants to give him a hug. My brain wants to prove him wrong. Such a dismal existence. (I realize I'm giving him power by writing this post.)

I've curated a brief list (for him, myself, and anyone else who may have inherited an oxygen stealer in their life) of people who followed their instinct. 

-Walt Disney was a newspaper editor. Quit. (Was actually fired.)

-Ellen Degeneres. Paralegal. Quit.

-Harrison Ford. Carpenter. Quit.

-Ken Jeong (Mr. Chow from the Hangover) Doctor. Quit.

-Joy Behar (host of the View) Teacher. Quit.

-Julia Child. Spy. Quit.

-Martha Stewart. Stockbroker. Quit.

-Jesus. Carpenter. Quit.

(There's that or A very appropos pin..)

A little "Woo-woo" Going on Around Here..

I'm experiencing a whole lotta "woo-woo" going on in my life. It's almost as if I have to document it for posterity's sake--to remind myself when the beginner's luck runs out, that IT is real. What is "woo-woo", you ask? It's those weird, unexplainable, perfectly timed occurrences that seem to happen at random. Is it luck? Is it fate? Is it the universe? I dunno. Its those moments that make you take note--like there just might be something larger than yourself at work because this coincidence is just too much of a coincidence.

I'm getting ahead of myself......

3 weeks ago, I did it. I resigned from my job. 20 years of service, 8 weeks of vacation, a chunky salary, a company car, a 401K, and medical benefits. (Ummmmmm....I still have moments of what in the hell where you thinking? As I reread this even..)

BUT, I was selling my life hours to do something that was killing my soul. Daily. I hated who I was when I was there. Every day I was on the brink of tears; I was a fraud. I lost any curiosity I had, I was simply existing. I wasn't adding value, I simply didn't care. Every day, waiting until it was time to go home so I could be me. Only by the time the day ended, I was so exhausted from pretending to be high performing, passionate, positive me there wasn't anything left. I wasted entire weeks of my life waiting for it to be Friday. 

You could sum it up into two quotes:

{"When one is pretending, the entire body revolts."  Anais Nin}  

{"She never knew the weight until she felt the freedom." The Scarlet Letter}

Now about the woo-woo. 

Have you read, "The Alchemist" by Paulo Coelho? I have. Twice. The first time, I read it. The second time, I felt it.

Now, I can't stop thinking about it. 

If you're exhausted, just flip to page 24 and 25. ( I have the 25th Anniversary edition so these page #'s may not match if you pick up a different copy...)

" And when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it."

This is the woo-woo. Little universe bread crumbs leading me, reminding me that I made the right decision. That and this weird, light feeling to be excited to get up in the morning again.

 

I'll keep you posted...

2015--An analogy.

Last winter, my extended family and I took a trip to Mexico. My husband is not a "beach sitter" like his wife. I could waste a week on a chair, in the sun under a palapa, drinking icy drinks and reading. This man needs adventure. 

We decided that we would spend an "adventure" day--zip lining. Sounded like a good idea-the kids were excited, Mr. was thrilled, and Grandma + Grandpa agreed. 

We arrived at the park, waited in line to get harnessed up, and were given direction to choose course A or course B. We chose Course A and skipped off to get our adrenaline rush for the day. 

The thing about zip lines, that I must've temporarily blocked out, is that they are really high up in the air and this little harness and a steel cable are all that prevented us from plummeting to our death. I don't like risk or heights. Why would I ever agree to this?

We started the climb to the first tower, a spiral staircase millions of miles (or so it felt) up in the air. With each wind of the steps, I heard that voice in my head. The one shouting, "ABORT. ABORT. Turn around NOW. No. NO.NO." (My palms are sweating even now re-telling this story.) 

We continued to wind our way up--the voices still shouting and me, practicing taking deep breaths. We made it to the entrance of the tower. We had to get in line. (Which allowed additional time to think about what I was about to do AND the ability to watch others take their turn.) 

I lost it. The moment I realized I had to step out onto a platform beyond the walls where I was currently standing, with nothing in between me and the Mexican air. There was a half a second of time where you remained untethered and outside the safety of a barrier wall standing at an angle with wet shoes. Lord God help me, I cannot do this. 

I took one look at my husband, and started sobbing uncontrollably. "I'm turning around, I'll meet you at the bottom." "I can't do this." He started to giggle and told me, "You'll be ok." I insisted I wasn't ok. (Meanwhile, everyone in line is staring at me wondering what my problem is. A few random strangers even offered their advice. "You're going to love it. You'll be ok.")

Still convinced that these were my last minutes on earth, and with my children ahead of me in line looking so excited to be here, I focused on watching their expressions when it was their turn to go.  

Be brave. You can do this. I was going to show this family of mine, that I wasn't the "fun killer" they often accuse me of. Shaking in my boots, I stepped over the wall. (Every expletive was screeching in my head and repeating itself over and over again.) The tower guard stopped the voices when he said, "Sit down and enjoy your ride". I sat, and he gave me a little push off the platform.

I looked out above the trees into the sunny Mexican sky, smoothly sailing down this steel cord, and thought to myself. I was terrified of this? I lived. Enjoyed it. and proceeded to do Courses A and B. 

This is me: Tower 3. 

Smiling. With the ability to say, " I did this. I survived. I kicked Fear that day."

This is how I want to feel in 2015. Brave. Fear cannot be the excuse.

I can't remember the movie I was watching, but this story and this quote is a good reminder for this year. 

"Danger is very real. But fear, is a choice." 

(Here's the movie clip: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4xXrREkmvQ

Happy New Year!

 

What if you changed your perspective?

In what I like to call my "big girl life", I work for a large food company. I spend a lot of time sitting in meetings learning about macro trends in the world. The economics of the average family and how much (or little) they have to spend on groceries.

Our office building is smack dab in the middle of a major city. Walking down the street, I am often stung by the irony of corporate executives stepping out of the way for the legless, homeless man to navigate the city sidewalks in his duct taped wheelchair.

The homeless lady who yells obscenities at the wind.

The trumpet guy with his dirty instrument case, entertaining the more financially fortunate on their lunch breaks for an hourly wage of $3.18-all in change.

How does this happen?

All I know is that when I think about changing my life, I know this. I like a warm bed in my cozy house, a shower whenever I want, medical insurance, a foofoo cup of coffee every now and then and not worrying if I spend more than $1.38 per person per day to feed my family. I know, my chaos is someone else's heaven. #getoveryourself

Every "big girl" career decision I've ever made has been mostly about the salary. In my twisted thought process; the larger the salary, the less I have to worry. (Which for the record, I'm fantastic at.)

I often justify this head job by thinking; your kids can go to college, they can get new shoes when they need them, you don't have to wait until the next paycheck, they can join obnoxiously expensive show choir, they can go to camp.

By doing this job and trading my life hours for a paycheck, we turn can'ts into cans. I can give them opportunity, knowledge, experience and choices. 

That's a lot of power and responsibility given to a j-o-b.

So you can understand how the thought of wanting to quit isn't just about the job.

If I quit, they suffer. I worry. We become the statistics. I become the wind yeller.

Only, what if we don't?
 

http://youtu.be/je3rQevW-cw

 

 

The last 6 weeks..

A whirlwind. Somewhere between April and now, I've realized that a.) I haven't posted here in like forever and b.) I've turned 40. 

40 is supposed to be a big deal but if truth be told, I feel like a surer version of 22 year old me. Only 22 me didn't have these random chin hairs....and 22 me didn't google "brain food" because I can't spit out a coherent sentence. (Btw, Celery, blueberries, & almonds).

My sabbatical went way too fast...I'm not even sure that I got in the groove until week 3. I'm back at work these days determined to just breathe and trust that my life dots are connecting.(easier said then done.)

In the meantime, I'll just keep doing what I do. 

An art-y pictorial recap of the last 6 weeks..

Me. As a fox.  On a Monday.

Wall art week.

Printed my illustration on fabric: I've called this series, "mama propaganda."

My hyper lush pencil case.

Dang Mary Oliver and her truth. That's me practicing calligraphy.

This 17 year old makes my day. 

Sewing my junk finds into something useful. ( I am obsessed with yarn tassels.)

More lettering practice.

Meditating. (Er, not--just drawing someone doing it.) I'm here: page 3.

http://bootcamp.lillarogers.com/bootcamp-may-2014-gallery/

And spending time with my favorite people.

#thisis40#lifezoomingby

A wannabe who may be...

It's a glorious Saturday, but let's be honest,it's going to be better than usual for the next 22 days. I'm on sabbatical (WHAT!?) for a short time and since the odds of it happening again match the lottery winning cadence, I'm going to revel....and be aware. 

I can't just be on sabbatical without a plan so I'm taking this course. Once and for all, I'm going to devote the next 22 days to making art. 

My selfie and for right now, logo of rebekaha designs

(And if I get nothing else out of this, I'll have at least learned something, right?)

So my "ahas" for the week:

-I hate the word "deserve". There is nothing in life we deserve. Everything is a choice. 

-In order to G.E.T., we must A.S.K. (I've been talking about sabbaticals for a few years, but never thought to ask for one. Duh...)

 

-Believe in yourself. Be scared. Just do.

-Sometimes, just finishing something, can set you free. I felt so much pressure to finish week 1's assignment that I declared myself done yesterday. I was so tired of trying to make it "good" and stay within the rules that I forgot to have fun.

-Sometimes experimenting can lead to a happy accident. 

-"Step" size in Photoshop= polka dots!

Week One's assignment was to design a bolt fabric using fruit and casserole dishes in a vintage-y kitchen theme. Meh. None of it was inspiring to me but I reminded myself that illustration clients don't care if you're inspired, they just want finished and fabulous. 

I started doodling....and had no idea what would come out of this. I had no idea how to design these doodles AND keep my style, my preference for clean graphic fabric, and the subject matter within the rules. 

(Note, none of the above doodles made the cut.) My assignment was done! Loved it; boldly graphic, was very much me, and had a message-SUCCESS! 

Until Friday, when I watched Lilla's video to our class. I heard 2 things in that 19 minute video; "your talent is not finite" AND "I don't want to see polka dots. Any in-house graphic team can create a polka dot. Use your icons, make it special." Yep, I'm a polka dot offender. BUT, I did finish and frankly, I love those damn dots. 

Since I was done, there wasn't any pressure to create something new. So, I sat down with my coffee this morning and messed around with my design. 

I started a new polka dot pattern and filled a layer with a pattern instead of filled a new layer (sorry, photoshop geek talking) and what happened was a bold graphic vintage-y pattern. I went with it and I'll be damned--love this one more. 

So, that's week 1, I had NO idea this was in me last week. Life is short. Lick the damn bowl.

Soul Sisters

This is a 2-part post on soul sisters; I have at least 4 of them, one hasn't a clue I exist but we'll get to that later. 

Anyone who really knows me, especially one of these 3, knows that all they have to do is whisper a doodle task and I'll drop the dusting, the laundry, and the need for nourishment. Hell, I'm nourishing my soul--who needs to eat?

The conversation happens something like this:

SS: "I know you're really busy but I kinda volunteered you to make our button this year. Hope you don't mind and you can say "No"."

Me: "Are you freakin' kidding? You know don't even have to ask."

The funny thing is sometimes these doodles end up resembling her & I. I don't try to do that and I never realize it until after the fact. 

Once again, here we are. (Immortalized on this small town swag.) 

Which gets me to the soul sister who has no idea who I am. 

It's "nesting season" here--cold, snowy, ish. For me, I hate it all except that it gives me an excuse to stay in and create. Sometimes, creating with someone else's art is better than my own. 

Her drawings inspire me, are much like my own, and are so damn cute. (Plus, not having to wait for an etsy purchase is right up my instant gratification alley.)

She hasn't a clue, but embroidering her design was just what I needed yesterday. 

Thank you, Soul Sister Lilipopo.

She calls it "Catching Wishes". I call it love.

You can get your very own instant pattern here..

Which got me thinking (surprise, surprise) that you might need a brain break.

So here's a B&W copy of the "Girls on Escape"--Print it out. Color It. Embroider it. Frame it. Whatever you want to do--just don't sell it. (Karma, remember?) 

Get it here.

Call your soul sister. Tell her Thank you. Make something.

Nesting

I've got a case of the "post-holiday, post winter vacation, mid-winter darkness, almost 40, need a change but haven't a clue" blues. Well, that's a mouthful.

Big thinker, not so great on the execution front. So instead of launching (ie doing something about it), I retreat. How's that for keyboard courage?

Retreat isn't always wrong but a healthier balance could be better.

During this retreating phase, I keep myself doing what makes me feel like me. What makes me stop thinking about the future and keeps me in the NOW.

(It's all about rewards. One could ask themself, "Why are you treating yourself with a reward of allowing  yourself to be yourself?"

Well, that, right there, is dysfunction at it's finest.) 

Anyways, this illustration probably says it all. 

Doodling & reading. A doodling bibliophile. Amen. 

You can buy this print @ my Society 6 shop--along with some other goodies. 

Go doodle something..I'm off to my happy place.

An Homage to the Woosa Work

I'm officially on Art Journal #8 but the truth is, I think I've been cutting out paper and saving it in one way, shape, or form for my whole life.

As 2013 ends, I was paging through these books filled with glue and paint and took photos of my favorite pages. 
You've seen some of these if you follow me on instagram. 
But...here's an "homage" to my woosa work for the year. 

A link to the video if you can't see anything; HERE.

**Credits** 

Flipagram App--it's free! And super easy to use.

Music by "Commes Des Enfants", Couer de Pirate

Work isn't so bad when you're on vacation...

One of my favorite parts about the year and this big girl gig are the weeks between Christmas and the New Year. I've hoarded vacation time to do this; NOTHING.

I'm a huge fan of home, so I use this time to hang, not comb my hair, and just relax. And I'm using my first day, to blog.

There are always so many ideas in my head and never enough time to do them, but this year I made it a priority to doodle. I even had the pleasure of doodling people I love, (and some that I don't even know.) for their Christmas greetings. Thought I'd share some...

It all started with us...

And then, we were on a roll... 

I'd like to formally thank those families who entrusted their family likeness to my pencil and me, the wanna-be illustrator with dirty messy hair whom, at this very moment, is still in her jammies. (Mission accomplished!) 

Here's to remembering what's really important (each other), big dreams, sharpened pencils, and love. 

Merry Christmas!

18 Years.

Almost 50% of marriages today end in divorce.

This year, especially, my husband and I have been bombarded with this news; couples that have been a constant in our lives, are no longer. It always leaves us shocked, sad, & dumbfounded. I listen to these people and hear the very same situations & feelings we’ve experienced. “What is the tipping point?”, I always wonder. Sometimes I can understand, and sometimes I just don’t get it.

Whatever love gods were at work when Mister & I were “matched”, they were on their “A” game that day. This is not to say it is love rainbows and unicorns over here.

 

Far, very far, from it. The running anecdote in our house is, “You may not be perfect, but you’re perfect for me.”

 

{Throw Back--Circa 1993ish}

Wishing most days were "pumpkin patch" kinda days..

There's something about Fall that I love (that I've always loved, really).

The Fall where the sun is warm, but the air is cool.

 

And all seems right in the world some way.

 

October should be when we celebrate the new year, the leaves show us that they even need a change.

 

Here's to a perfect pumpkin patch day. Where the doodles are free, blue hair is more than just ok, the spiders can roam, and the perfect outfit only requires a pair of boots and some printed tights.

 

I went to London: Custom Cards

I judge a really cute outfit by how badly I want to doodle it. The doodability factor also applies to purses, haircuts, shoes, inanimate objects-whatever strikes the old inspiration chord. 

 A co-worker of mine just returned from London. She went to the Cath Kidston store while traveling abroad {be still my heart--I cannot imagine how pretty this place is!} and came back with this.

You can have one too-they ship to the US!

 

She modeled her bag for us, shared her tales, and my "inspired chord" was struck.

She was my doodle subject for the evening.

 

She's mentioned more than once that she'd like a copy of her doodle so I got to work.

 

I turned her doodle into a little gift.

 

A few little note cards packaged in a clever envelope made just for greeting cards--I'm sharing, don't you worry.

 

The "envelope" tutorial is right here. Thank you, Nicole!

 

And just in case you don't have any time to doodle, I've created a download for Meg's card that you can just print on cardstock and cut.

 

 

{Download Here}

 

{You may use for personal use only...Art karma. It's really a bitch.}

 

I hear Cath's website calling my name.

So, sometimes, you just need a reward.

Oh yeah, give me every color.

 

 

Want your very own copy to frame? Download here

Deep breaths

 

Thought for today via the artjournal--when you don't have the time to roadtrip but your soul is screaming, "Get me outta here."

 

4 syllables for you today: Sab-bat-tic-al.

 

Whatcha' Been Doin'?

I was reminded today, since the high is only 68 degrees, that summer doesn't last forever around here. I've been trying to stay outside and enjoy the sun. Trying to remind myself that there is more than enough "studio time" when the air turns frigid and the skies dark.

 

But if something is in our nature, it's hard to go against it.

 

Taking this class , so after the bike rides, coffee on the patio, sunny activities, etc., (PLUS a 50 hour big girl work week) are done for the day, I paint patterns.

 

 

Sketchy Sunday

It's been a long few weeks over here so today was my day.

Spent a few hours filling up pages in my journal--thought I'd share.

Coloring is good for the soul...

Not all people find peace in art, but some of us do. This reminded me that I used to spend hours coloring away.

(Source)

And I still do. Every night (that's the goal anyway..) I try to doodle one page in the art journal. Most recent is this one....