& It Comes on the Rain...

Listening to:

"Kylie"-William Fitzsimmons

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Today...was a terrible day.

Actually if you wanna get down to it, it's been a pretty rough month.

Hell...ya know what?

Let's be completely honest...it's been a bad 1 year, 1 month, & 23 days.

There. I said it.

Raise your hand if you feel the same way. Go ahead, don't be shy...there ya go.

It seems to me like every time I think I've got it figured out, every time I find something that truly makes me happy... *BAM* it doesn't work out. Ever. As a matter of fact we should start a pool on how long things take to come crashing down around my feet...at least maybe I'd win some money out of the deal!

That's right folks, this is one of -those- blogs & I just became -that- girl. Fabulous.

Hey... little known fact: I always get a few flames whenever I write about my personal life. Let me apologize to those people. Normally I ignore you, but today I will address you. Sadly, I am a real person & shit happens...no, really..no joke. Okay, a little more seriously... I do it because it's how I feel & what I feel strongly enough about at that time to put in to writing. If I wrote about anything else at that very moment, it would be disingenuous. If you don't care to read that material...then you should have stopped about 6 lines ago when I warned you.

That said...

Like any person, when I am having a rough go of it I turned to a friend. I could not talk to my usual -amazing- sounding board (you know, that friend you turn to talk to about ANYTHING b/c they are your numero uno...you totally just mentally bounced to that person) My substitute friend was a failure at being helpful lol. Said friend proceeded to tell me all the things I am good at...my nine million hobbies. It's true, I have about a million hobbies...know why? To keep my mind off all the things that I can't keep together that actually matter.

A-ha moment, nay?

So said friend and I talk as I sit on the porch in the rain. I start telling him the ways I am trying to narrow down what it will take to get my life on the right track & how people that I really admire & respect have been really giving me great guidance. I tell him all kinds of things about this past week and after about 30 minutes of rambling I pause. There is a brief silence and suddenly he says, " You are just too deep for a girl, damn. You think too much."

My first though? I'm thinking I picked the wrong substitute sounding board.

My second thought? Hey, buddy, the 1800s called...they want their mentality back.

My third thought? Maybe he's right.

Well dear reader guess what?

The Good News: I have picked a career, photographer 'til the death! And.....I picked a degree (finally). Did you hear that? That loud whooshing sound? Yeah that's the sound of my immense number of family members breathing a huge sigh of relief.

The Bad News: Don't lie...you knew it was coming. I am seriously beginning to lose faith in people.

It's pathetic. And jaded. And true.

Talk is cheap & people can't be relied on.

Period.

I know you dear reader. Your first reaction is to disagree vehemently. You can't help yourself, it's a knee jerk reaction...no one wants to believe that anyone else can lose that much faith. You're thinking, "No! People aren't THAT bad!" or "Not EVERYONE is like that!"

But as you wait about 2.5 seconds, or about 8 words later....

your mind has already betrayed you.

Admit it...you are doing it right. now. You are thinking about that person who told you one thing & meant another. Or that person who double crossed you. Maybe it's the one that screwed you over & then stabbed you in the back. Or maybe it's the person who just up and changed their mind on you & left you hanging...

Whatever or whoever it is, was it worth it? Now, all the Positive Pattys out there are mentally shouting, "YES! Yes it IS!"

NOTE:

These are all the people who are either in happy relationships, amazing careers, orrrr just got a fat inheritance.

Personally, I immediately discredit.

I guess all I'm saying is how many broken roads (ie bad decisions, poor judgement in people...) does a girl have to stumble down before someone gives her a dang road map?! or a compass? Hell, I'd even settle for star navigation lessons!

I sat on the porch tonight in the rain.

It was lovely.

Just trying to grasp something that would sort the thoughts in my head...some way to not think. I watched the lightening tear across the sky running from the rumble of the thunder.

I envied it.

For those of you who don't know me well enough...I'm a bit of a flight risk. For all of a minute I seriously considered jumping in the car and taking a road trip to clear my head. I hear New Mexico is nice this time of year. I wanted to tear across the road running from all the stress of the last year just like the lightening ran from the thunder.

And then I didn't.

That's right. For the first time in my life, I didn't want to be the lightening tearing across the sky. I wanted to be the rain pouring steadily down to it's own beat. Huh, maybe there's hope for me yet. Who'd have ever thunk it?

This might seem like a small shift to most. Trust me, it's not. Not for a person like me. Perhaps I have been going at everything all wrong. Either way, I have challenged myself with two new personal goals. One, to clean house. If you think about it, chances are you should too. Get rid of the toxic people in your life...they will drag you down. Believe me. Two, make a valid attempt to focus on the people & things that people have done to make me want to keep the faith. Right now, I have zero.

You know what's tragic about not being able to trust anyone wholly?

It's lonely.

Being the over thinker that I am, I am sitting here at my computer still dwelling. Dwelling on the last blog I wrote, dwelling on all the people that have made me lose faith. Everyone from the very first long ago, to the very most hurtful, to the most recent final straw. I am thinking about all the people that I have watched get burned by other people. Maybe there's a few I burned myself. Was it selfish? Maybe there's more to each time someone does something to make another faithless... maybe there's not. Who knows?

For the rest of the faithless out there...I just want to leave you with this: Maybe you should give cleaning house and a change of perspective a shot too?

Maybe at the end of the day we should all just treat each other a little better every day.

All I really know is...

I don't ever want to make another human being feel like this.

Well dear reader...

I'm not gonna hold my breath for my level of faith,

but I will drop an extra penny in the well for the rest of you.

Signing out,

Your Faithless Free Spirit.

P.S. This is why I am an animal person & not a people person.

Polaroid a Day

Listening to:

"Alone" (acoustic) -Ben Harper

Hey all! Long time no see...erm read?

I've been a bit busy. That's as good of an excuse as I can come up with (sorry).

In the past two weeks I have had three friends write me & tell me they are trying to start their own blogs...if that isn't the universe telling me to get back on the ball I don't know what it is ;)

That said...

Recently an extremely talented photographer (Joshua Cole) tweeted about a blog and how amazing it was. Being the curious ( *cough* nosy *cough*) person that I am...I had to check it out! What I saw really blew my mind.

The blog was about a random man. Just like any other man...only not.

This man took a polaroid photo every day of his life.

Sometimes his photos were obscure, artistic. I was captivated...

The photos go on... he took an astronomical amount...

You always hear people say, " a picture is worth a thousand words". It's true. You can learn so much about someone from their photos.

Throughout the trail you see how he is a musician, all the good times he has with his friends, the successes he has with independent film....they are timelessly captured on little squares.

On May 2, 2007 something bad has happened.

Two days later we learn it is cancer.

Can you imagine?

There is something about watching a complete stranger's life through his own photos that is so...intimate.

On October 5, 1997 the photographer's intentions are clear...

Two days later they are married...

A few weeks later finds our guy in the hospital once again, October 24, 1997.

The next day our photographer dies.

The artsy photos that captured my eye ended so close to home for me. I'm not sure why, maybe it was his love of photography. Maybe it was his polaroid fixation? Maybe it was seeing him go through the ups and downs through his very own eyes?

Who was this man? We know he played the accordion, he laughed, he loved...

His name was Jamie Livingston. He took a polaroid picture everyday for 18 years...until October 25, 1997 when he died at the age of 41.

He called the project "Photo of the Day"..it was his passion.

He used a Polaroid SX-70..it was his tool.

He used his vision...it is his legacy.

I remember sitting there after spending hours going through the complete collection of photos just being stricken. A man who only spent 17 days married to the woman he loved & only 41 years on this earth, but he left the world 6,697 polaroid pictures to remember him by.

So dear readers my question to you today is this...

What will you leave behind?

Will you have enough laughs? Will you spend more than 17 days with the one you love? Will you waste your days (which may be few) in misery...or will you leave behind more?

The choice is yours.

Signing out,

Your Fervent Free Spirit

XOXO

** You can view the entire collection at http://photooftheday.hughcrawford.com/ ....I really recommend it.

...Can I Help You With That?

listening to:

"Breathless" by Better than Ezra

So recently I was sitting in the airport traveling across the country (shocker, huh?) After a hellacious week of house hunting in Washington D.C. I found myself heading back to Oklahoma once again.

So it's 5 a.m. & I am not exactly a morning person. As a matter of fact, the only happy thing about 5 a.m. is the fact that I am usually crawling INTO bed at that time of the morning :-/. So my dad drops me off, I have this huge ordeal trying to check in. By the way who ever thought allowing people to attempt to check in at that time of the day all by themselves ought to be shot. Orderly and responsible? Puhhh-lease!

As I finally get my boarding pass and start to walk toward security a guy stops me and asks me where my baggage is. "I don't have any" I say. What does he say in response you ask? He laughs. LAUGHS! This guy is laughing like I just grew body parts and changed my name to Dane Cook. Then he opens his mouth again and says, "No..I know your type..there's no way that's all you are bringing on the plane!" .... When did I suddenly become a type?! :( And why wasn't I informed?! After I begrudgingly make my way past Mr. Stereotype I grumble my way through security mentally shooting people daggers along the way.

I find my gate, and take a seat. Sweet, my favorite part about airports..people watching! =) Except...at 5 a.m. even the airport is dead, can't a girl catch a break? I sit in boredom for awhile with no one of interest to watch and decide to get a drink. Chai Tea Latte please!! As I nurse my hot cup of lifeline at the magazine rack, my obviously very important task is interrupted. "Shawwty is that hot?" You've got to be kidding me. "Shawty I'm talkin' to you.." I peer to my left. There stands a guy in his South Pole tee and pants at his ankles. Cocky look and pose? Check. Boxers hanging out? Check. Standing in my bubble? Did you even doubt it for a second? Bad Karma! Ughh. This is because I squashed that spider in my room last night isn't it? By the grace of whatever if you will just make him disappear I swear, I'll never squash another spider again! Suddenly over the intercom, "Now boarding flight 1535 to Nashville." Whew, saved by the unnaturally perky voice from above.

I line up as do the rest of the prospective passengers. Suddenly from behind me I hear a little chuckle. Yup, got to be the spider. Or maybe the piece of gum that I left on the ground outside the Lincoln Memorial. My recall session is interrupted by the lady at the front telling us that there has been a slight hitch and we will have to walk down three flights of stairs and across the tarmac to get to our plane. No biggie. As they allow boarding group A to go I notice a very elderly woman approach the stairs nervously with her rolling carry on. Next thing I know my new shadow is brushing past me. "Ma'am, can I help you with that? That bag looks like trouble."

In that moment it hit me. When did I get so jaded?

My momma always told me not to judge a book by it's cover. How did I fall this far? I feel so... judgemental. That's about the nicest thing I can say about myself at the moment. Maybe it's the society we live in, maybe it's the industry I work in, maybe...maybe I should just quit trying to make excuses. Just like the guy at baggage check, that had offended me with his assumptions... I had successfully been just as terrible!

Well, we all know how the universe has it's own ways of setting itself straight. Who did I wind up sitting next to on the flight? You guessed it. I had flight filled with discovery, beneath his "gangsta" cover he had the pages of a momma's boy studying religion in college.

So I challenge you dear reader, think about the last time you saw a stranger. Be it at the gas station, grocery store...maybe on the other end of the phone. Maybe they treated you poorly, maybe you thought poorly of them? Did you jump to a conclusion about them too?

Oh, and thank you Mr. Baggy Pants from Anacostia...you readjusted my perspective. =)

Signing out,

Your Friendlier Free Spirit.

For Granted....

Listening to:

Anberlin, "Heartbreaker"




Recently I was met with a truly heartbreaking matter. One of my closest friends betrayed me in the worst, most hurtful way. I have never been so disappointed or disgusted. It really got me thinking about the things we take for granted in life.

If you come from a small town (as I do) you are no stranger to backstabbing. It is practically a staple in that environment, however when it comes from friends outside that circle it seems so much worse. You expect it from the childish minds of your high school dramas, but from your post- high school friends? When you are in high school the pickings are slim as far as friendships go, but after? You pick those from a much larger pool and have higher expectations for them.

Anyway, that's not the point of this blog. The point is, there are so many things in a day that we never stop to think about. What about all those small things that we take for granted? As I am sitting here at five in the morning I am dwelling on these very things. I'm sure you have many, if not all, the same exact memories; the late night calls when one of us really needed someone, the random text messages just for laughs, the shoulder to cry on when I am disappointed? Pointless gifts from roadtrips because you couldn't be there, late night Taco Bell runs, money loaned when you couldn't make ends quite meet? Ruining a friendship is like killing a kitten: pointless and just sad any way you look at it. So many things die with it...all the inside jokes, millions of photographs, hugs, tears, secrets...

For all those out there reading this, I want you to take a moment and think about all the things your best friend has done for you. You know what I'm talking about. All those times he/she picked you up at three a.m. because you had too much to drink, that time they were sitting right there next to you getting just as hammered, or the night that they brought the movies and you brought the goodies and you both wish you'd brought the tissues. Now whip out the cellular device that you love so much and text them. Let that BFF know how much you appreciate them, because it's when you really lose a friend that you realize just how big a part of your life they were. I can tell you from experience that a TRUE friend is a precious thing...don't take yours for granted.

ily Kris, Carter, & Babs. Thanks for everything <3

Signing out,

Your For-granted Free Spirit

A New Endeavor??

Listening to:

The Coasters, "Down in Mexico"

So recently I decided to take up another hobby

(dear god, like I NEED another one, right??)

SO whilst meandering the unsuspecting aisles of JoAnne's with my mom, she takes me down this row and I can't explain the thoughts that came to me. All I could hear was Nicole Kidman's demi-remake of "Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend" from Moulin Rouge. Dear sweet jewelry maker's aisle!!!

That's right folks...I've started making jewelry.

Terrible idea?

Probably.

First of all, there is something to be said for those who make jewelry: You are GODS of PATIENCE. With painting I get to swish and flick like a cheap Harry Potter knock off and dance around like it's nobody's business. Jewelry making? No. Big, Fat No.

Like with any true hobby there were a million pieces of equipment that I did not have and found myself having to buy as well. Need a painting? I own every color you can imagine. Every brush they make. Chances are I even have the canvas size you'd like!

Round tipped pliers, filler brackets, and bead caps?

Negative Ghost Rider.

So I set alllll these beads out and go, "Great...so now what?" Hahaha. You have to figure out how you're going to compose this mess into a necklace!

I'm beginning to seriously regret the $85 worth of beads and pliers I purchased.

I'm determined, if nothing else in life. So I crank up the iTunes, rip open a bag of Peanut Butter M&Ms and set to it.

Never have a felt so inept. To say it was an adventure is the understatement of the century.

4 1/2 hours,

3 fingernails,

2 pinched thumbs,

&

a handful of now useless pieces of metal later

I have finished:

Worth it? You betcha.

Now for a lil Shout Out:

Recently

I've had a hard time finding the enjoyment in all the things I wrap myself up in.

A proverbial dark cloud if you will,

had come upon my sun of creativity.

I realized that I do all these things

&

they just sit in my rooms or on my hard drive collecting dust.

I was creating stuff of no real importance or value.

I'd like to make a shout out to

Stayce C.!

After bravely volunteering for a project of mine,

she made comment that really uplifted me.

It's nice to know other people read the dribble that I take so much time to put down

&

flip through my pieces and photos.

So thanks Stayce ...

made my day

:)

Take it as a sign....

Listening to:

So here I sit this not so fine evening after a day of labor and preparation (not H ;-P ). I'm not gonna lie folks, I spent my entire afternoon in my PJS cleaning and rearranging furniture. Exciting and extraordinary, huh? Yeah, I thought you'd be impressed. So there I stand slightly sweaty, in my fuzzy pink peace sign pajamas, sans makeup looking REALLY model-esque let me tell you. What's that I hear? Muffled Iron & Wine playing somewhere in the pitfall that I just created? Huh, that's my generic ringtone..oh well, they'll have to leave a message I dunno where that thing is buried. Suddenly it hits me. Wait a second...didn't that casting director say we would hear back no later than Monday? Crap.

So what does a dishevel me do? DIG, DUH! Turns out it was a good thing I dig quickly! I officially have landed my third independent, low budget role. Excited? I think yes. As I am sitting here on the phone thanking my lucky stars that I dig like a hound dog on speed, the casting director is talking about how my job is to be a piece of "living breathing sexiness" how I am to embody "sexual tension", "beautiful hair, intense eyes, curves to die for". He is telling me this I am staring in my what now seems ENTIRELY too large mirror. I stare at my reflection, Frumpy PJs? Check. Ponytail? Check. Sweaty face? Check. Show stopping vixen? Negative Ghost Rider.Ughhhhhhh.

So in a fit of inadequacy I run to the bathroom and grab a package of deep hair conditioner, acid peel, and a razor. Nothing like getting a "sexy" role to make you realize just how UN-sexy you are. As I turn on the shower I wonder if Kim Kardashian ever has days like this...or maybe Beyonce? Eh who am I kidding. Screw those two in their ridiculous perfection.

So I put on the acid peel and hop in the shower. I apply the deep conditioner to my hair and start shaving. A few minutes later, in my extreme haste to feel my instant improvements, I slip in the shower...throwing my face into the water, no big deal you say? Guess who was using acid peel as their new eye drops? Oh yeah. In the pain of this I went to wipe my face forgetting I was holding a razor. I managed to catch my left hand with it, slicing my fingernail all the way up to the nail bed. I screamed in pain and jerked my head down to inspect the blood dripping finger. I did this only to catch my thickly coated hair in the stream of water...coating the floor of the shower in conditioning cream. I reached for a towel to help my finger and slipped on the now coated shower floor ending up unceremoniously on the floor. Needless to say: not.my.night.

Is there a point to me sharing all of this? Not really. Does it make me feel better to complain? Hell yes.

Moral of this story?

1. Sexy? I am not. Clumsy, I am.

2. The universe is trying to tell me to just give up, personally I think it means directly about the shaving thing. Yes? Yes.

3. Next time...let it go to voicemail.

Signing out,

Your Bruised, Bloody, and Beaten Free Spirit :-/

Negative Two To You Too!

Listening to:

So today I get this email:

"Sky,

I have this project that I really want you to get involved in come March, but I really need some good photos of you without your braces! I can't present photos of you to my investor if I don't have anything up to date. Glad to hear you got them off, now let's make that wait time worth it.

Signed,

Bob (No his name really isn't Bob)"

'Okay' I think to myself, 'I can handle that...I'll just get in touch with the studio down the road on Monday'. As I'm about to exit out of my email I notice something tacked on to the end of this email: "P.S. I'm having dinner with him tomorrow so if you could get right on it that would be great."

......If I haven't said it before, this isn't the first time nor the last I will: I hate this industry sometimes.

Oh, hey...did I mention that it is -2 for a high today? Here let me type it again for those of you that missed it... It is -2 here!!!! Thanks, I feel better now.

So my mom says, "Well let's just go take some." (btw for those of you who don't know, my mom is a very good newbie photographer) I can deal with this. Then I realized that if I am going to be taking good photos that my 10lb parka and ski boots probably weren't an option. Instant dismay. So I pack a bag full of outfits and my mom puts on two layers plus a ski jacket as I think daggers at her in her warmth.

We drive to a local park and start hiking to a good photo area past all of the normal, bundled sledders as they look at me like I'm crazy. As if the fact that I'm seven shades darker than anyone in a five mile radius isn't enough, I'm traipsing around in two feet of snow in my high heeled boots and leggings. Nucking Futs. We finally get to the secluded area and start shooting. The good news: I learned that after five minutes or so you can no longer feel your fingers or feet. The bad news? I learned that numb feet lead to falling down. face first. a lot.

We spent an hour and twenty minutes out there including one wardrobe change (my ass is STILL defrosting) and scored three hundred pictures. Talk about stoked. While on the drive home I get to flipping through them only to find out that about a hundred of them weren't of me...my mom had been shooting the ducks behind me :-/ thanks mom.

Moral of this story?

1. People suck.

2. "Freezing your butt off"...Yeah, it's real.

&

3. Quit reading your emails on Fridays.

P.S. I walked away with 17 GREAT photos for both the Casting Director and my portfolio: Epic Win. :) I put a few from today at the end for fun.

Signing out,

Your Frostbitten Free Spirit

Allow Me to Introduce Myself...

Listening to:

You there, in the back...yes, you. Hi :)

I'm sitting here about to write my first post. Sweating. I mean if this one sucks its all down hill from here, right?

I am Sky. Depending on the day of the week. And who you are. And what state you live in. Long story lol.

So I suppose I should write about myself? I am a living, breathing contradiction. Trust me, you'd never want to live inside my head, ever. I wear Burberry and own six pairs of camo sweats (thanks Brad!) I own more books than anyone I know and more high heels than should be legal. I appreciate women who never wear makeup, but I won't be caught dead without mascara.

I have a strange sense of humor and a devil may care attitude. I'm both the fiercest friend and the fiercest foe.

Things that I love:

Feeling the wind in my hair.

Walking around barefoot.

First hand accounts from the past.

I respect my native elders. They are the wisest and noblest people I have ever met.

I am a recovering Big Mac-aholic, why that is my addiction I am not sure.

Being myself and I'm more than happy to let you be yourself.

Antiques.

Music..ALL kinds of music.

Blue Raspberry Jolly Ranchers

Iced Chai Teas

Boba Tea

Food. I am a model who LOVES to eat. Pretty much destined for disaster.

Art. Did mention art? Allow me to reiterate.

Museums.

Documentaries.

Beaches.

Good Conversations.

Feel like you're on match.com yet? :-P Photography. I have a love/hate relationship with my camera

Starry Skies. Mmmhmm

Acting.

Turquoise.

People Watching

Indy Films.

Burberry.

Fireplaces.

Kids with no filter.

Wondering where Waldo is.

Sunflowers.

Football.

Good chapstick.

Hands. They tell such a story.

Loaded cheese fries.

Wolves.

Snow.

Nostalgia.

The smell of rain.

Being a ninja.

Cooking.

Singing in the shower. Loudly. Aaaand mildly off key.

Yoga.

Incense.

Potato salad, the mustard kind.

Christmas lights.

Gardening.

Listening.

Now that you have a ton of useless Sky trivia....Ya know what I love to know more about? You.