Trompe l'oeil

In art there is a term called trompe l'oeil. It's a fancy French word

literally meaning to "deceive the eye," and its an awesome technique
that artists use to create optical illusions. It is achieved by painting the
object to be intensely realistic and three-dimensional in a two-dimensional
format, which is usually flatter looking. What its ultimate goal is to trick
the viewer into seeing the thing as not just part of the painting, but
part of reality, something real and tangible.

For example, an artist might paint a ceiling to look like clouds
or a plaster wall could be made to look like elegant arches.
What is cool about trompe l'oeil is that the way the artist succeeds
in executing the technique depends on his mastery of
PERSPECTIVE,
but the way a view sees it is by losing perspective.

My wise advice, cuz I know you're all waiting for it,
is that we allow ourselves to lose perspective all the time,
especially when it comes to things we expect or want to see.
Our expectations fuel our interactions,
and sometimes we are surprised when the results are different
than what we expected. One of the biggest pieces of wisdom
I have is that we shouldn't let ourselves believe that we deserve
anything from anyone- don't take advantage of the fact that people
are there because they care.

And really there is a lot that we could learn from the idea of
trompe l'oeil. It is starting to make my head hurt.


All in all, I just wanted to say that this last weekend was
a treat. I had an amazing friend from Utah up to visit, my
favorite Mr. Friend by my side, and awesome words that
filled me up with hope and gave me some new perspective.

A change of perspective is sometimes a great thing to experience.

It was one of my favorite weekends in a long, long time.

Confession

I will never lose weight for one reason:

I come home at 11 or 12 every night and

proceed to eat three bowls of Cocoa Krispies.
And I love it.

Eat, Pray, Love with Thoreau

I am slowly going to catch up on my life since I've had the long absence of two months.

(An eternity in blogging world, right?)

The AGONIZING search for employment has ended for the time being, me having been employed by a counseling service working with children. Wait until you hear the job title, it sounds way important:

(ahem) Psychosocial Rehabilitation Specialist.

Meaning I help children from all sorts of backgrounds discover ways to deal with their mental illnesses and cope in the world. Really a heartbreaking job sometimes.

People's stories have a tendency to occupy my mind. I get involved in how they perceive the world and the logic that went into making the choices they did. I love people. I love helping them. And most times wish there was a way I could do more.

Often times I am speechless, more of a listening ear than a helpful voice. But to some that is all they need. I know. I've been there.

Remember when the movie "Eat, Pray, Love" came out and it was such a big hit. (Personally, I found it really boring and fell asleep on Mr. Friend's lap.) But the concept was so appealing to me. This girl has everything that most people deem they need in life: a house, a husband, a successful career. YET, she finds herself lost and searching for something missing. Newly divorced and at a crossroad, she risks everything to find happiness, moving to Italy, India, and Indonesia.

I've been tempted to do that. Move somewhere fresh and new. It is similar to Henry David Thoreau's move to Walden Pond. A total commitment. An exciting leap into the unknown and an abandonment of past.

But I sadly realized that though I would like to think myself adventurous, I was much too frightened to undertake such an enormous change.

Like these children I work with, I don't want to reject my life despite the pain, but change it in a way to find more happiness in familiar surroundings. I think we all do.

So the question is:

Is it selfish to spend so much time focused on our own happiness?

A Happiness Project

"There is no duty we so much underrate as the duty of being happy."
~Robert Stevenson

{photo by Jaya Photography}

I'd always thought that someday I'd grow up.
I'd would do all the things that someday I said I would do.

I'd remember people's birthdays without being reminded
by my mom or facebook. And in so doing I'd sent them cute
little homemade cards in the mail. I figured that I'd get out
of bed in the morning with enough time to do my hair and
take a shower without having to chose between the two.

I'd be an expert photographer, and use Photoshop
like a pro. I'd start eating less crap and taking care of my body.
I'd be a granola-type person and run barefoot
during the summer and understand my body enough to know
what it needed.

I'd spent more time with friends and less with myself.
I'd read the classic and be cultured enough to talk about politics
and offer logical explanations in philosophical discussions.

I'd be more fashionable, but still comfortable enough with my
body to wear jeans and a t-shirt without always having
to adjust to hide certain undesirable parts.

I'd draw and have time to relax. I'd do art for the simple
joy of doing it. I wouldn't watch TV while I ate.
I'd use my running shoes.

I'd keep in touch with old friends.
I'd find a niche just for me with enough challenge to keep
me excited and motivated.
I'd stop wishing to be someone else.

And of course with all of this, I exhibit a contradictory nature:
I want to take myself more seriously yet accept myself for what
and who I am and was.
I want to make myself someone who I'd admire, yet love myself now.
I wanted to have structure with my time, yet be able to be flexible, free,
and able to engage in any pursue that fancies me.
I want to not worry about the future, yet hold on to my ambitions and drive.

Once I lose those extra ten pounds, or get a better job, or find the right
guy, I'd be the person I want to be and I'd be happy. Or so I thought.

BUT....
I'm not sure it works that way and all the little wishes and goals
boil down to one. My ultimate goal has always been
happiness.

Then I remembered I started this blog. This crazy, lonely blog
that was suppose to record my own little journey from being
the sad, hate-myself-and-my-current-situation person I turned
into after my divorce into someone who was actively engaged in
creating a life worth living.

So, I welcome myself back. Hello Kendra.
And hello to you!

My chronic disease is distrust.
Mostly in myself. And in the kind of stuff that is important.
I hold everything out at arm's length and no matter how great or
grand something is, I repel it.

This year has been tough, to say the least.
And usually I'm not one to dwell to much on a new year, but
this year I feel fearful and very apprehensive.
I feel small and insignificant.

I don't know if I'm ready to dust the dirt off my bottom, hold
my chin up, and get started all over again.
Right now I just want to curl up and cry.

I like the pain. It is familiar. A punishment kind of.
I'm on a "woe is me" kick. I really did want things to work
out. But its like everything good is swerving away from me.

I keep reminding myself it is time to grow. To be excited.
And to be really, really happy. A time to do it right and get things
done. To be myself and stop apologizing for it. Do the right things
and love it.

But right now, a box of tissues and chocolate-covered
pretzels are going to keep me company.

And tomorrow, I'll do the whole goal-happy thing.

Cherry Mismis!

Let it be a time to remember the birth of our Saviour, Jesus Christ,

that we may share in the song of the angels, the gladness of

the shepherds, and the worship of the wise men.

Merry Christmas to the Blog World!

Hope it was filled with memories and feelings of love and

gratitude. Luvs.