First Post: ✅

Getting started is always the hardest part, isn’t it? Last night, I was laying in bed trying to sleep and running through all the things I might write in this post. I want to introduce myself, but I don’t want it to feel like I’m sitting in a circle being forced to give my name and tell 3 things about myself in a terrifying ice breaker game, because…*shudders*

I settled on the idea of still not being sure what I want to be when I grow up. I hit the big 4-0 last year, and still don’t know what I want to be.

Truth be told, I am living a large part of my best life. I home-school my 5 kids (yes. 5! *insert cliche comment about never being bored or never a dull moment here*) This is not a chore to me…most days. Before I made the decision to home-school 4 years ago, I was an early childhood educator. (Fancy way of saying I was a preschool teacher.) I loved my job. I love teaching – even if it’s my own kids. My reasons for homeschooling are many – and best saved for other days – but I do, in general, love my daily life.

Still hate chores though. Chores are life sucking abominations that I wish could be solved with a swish of my sadly-lacking-magic wrist.

Which brings me back to the idea of what I want to be when I grow up. It feels like there is something beneath my skin itching to get out. A part of me that needs a release. Like Violet’s relic burning to release her signet in Fourth Wing. Like Aelin’s magic building for release in the Throne of Glass series.

Something wants for release.

Art, writing, music. These three have always been a hallmark of my soul for as long as I can remember. I made floral arrangements and painted with my grandmother as a child. I made my own formal wear in high school. I designed and created children’s clothing – even being on Zulily for a while before they stopped featuring small, handmade businesses. Just about anything with a needle and I’ve tried it. Same with pencils and brushes.

When I was a child, my grandparents ran the Grandkid Gazette. My cousins, siblings, and I could write and submit articles for monthly publication. Our reward was a shiny silver dollar. I never missed a submission. As an angsty teen, I wrote poetry and journal entries. No. You can’t read them. If I haven’t burned them, I will.

Similarly, music has always been there. I used to sing all the time on the playground as a kid at school. My teen years were nothing but music. Even now, live music is my drug of choice. (Even if this last show gave me covid and knocked me on my ass for 5 days.)

All that rambling to say, as I said in my last post, I don’t know where this will go. I have plans for book and music reviews, book playlists of songs that come to me while I read, writing ramblings and rants as they come to me, and showing off whatever art decides to flow through me.

Most of all, I hope to release this building pressure of something in me needing a release.