The Secret Life of Optimists

Okay, show of hands: how many people here have seen The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (2013)? I have several friends who hate it, several who adore it, and several who look at me with confused but polite expressions on their faces when I ask if they've seen it.

On a basic level, Walter Mitty is a film about a hard-core day-dreamer in love with a girl at work he's never spoken to, who finds himself saddled with discovering the baffling whereabouts of a vital photograph ("Quintessence") missing from his workplace. We all like to pull for the underdog, especially one with a heart and imagination as endearing as Walter's. But at its core, the film is a celebration of imagination, optimism, friendship, art, adventure...all the things that make up the delightful parts of life.Walter Mitty works at Life Magazine and the company's motto will always inspire me:

"To see the world,
Things dangerous to come to,
To see behind walls,
Draw closer,
To find each other,
And to feel.
That is the purpose of life."

 I suppose the reason I love The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (apart from the stunning and artistic way the film was shot) is because it is a story about a person like me. A person with an imagination that colors his world brighter than usual. A person who has more than once spaced out in a conversation, totally enveloped in What Could Happen. A person who sees possibility everywhere, in everyone. A person who has within his mind, a million outcomes of a million situations and is poised just so, waiting to see which will really come to pass and where it might take him.

This first week of 2015 has been amazing. I am not exactly sure why except that I have lived every day with this glorious sensation of Just Around the River Bend practically sparking out of me. 2015 is, so far, an open year. I don't have many plans. Those I do have are just sketches, waiting to be filled with color by the adventures God lets me stumble across. Exciting things are lurking in the corners. I just know it. I don't have a reason for knowing it, but somehow I do. Seriously, put away your raised eyebrows. There are no secrets here. Just a flush on my cheeks and my heart beating a little smidgen faster than usual because something is coming. The unknown is all around me and there's something in the wind that makes me so terribly excited for this year. And yet, I feel a little like Jane and Michael Banks after Bert has done his rigmarole of: "You think...you...wink, you do a double-blink, you close your eyes and...."

Jane cocks her head, looks at Bert and says:

 "Is something s'posed to happen?"

That's how I feel right now. Is something s'posed to happen? Will it? I have my eye on several situations in friends' lives that could bloom into straight-up, real time fairy-tales or epic-saga adventures. I'm waiting for the next part of the story, conscious that any moment could catapult them (and me, vicariously) into a crazy, practically unheard-of new world. In my own life, things move along as usual. I spend my days doing life in technicolor. The people at the grocery-store are not just people. I mean, they are just people but not just people. I believe in the rich old truth that my life is a story and each component is part of that tale. Therefore, the man behind me in line at the grocery store could turn out to be important. The lady who cuts in front of me in traffic. The bank teller I saw twice in one day. The man in the window of the National Press Club Building. The woman whose package I rescued off the metro who I finally got back in contact with. My brain goes wild with the possibilities. When those people don't give me something memorable, I remedy the situation by doing something creative for them to remember. If I can't meet That Person, I'll be That Person. Call it what you will (fate, destiny, a horse), there's never a dull moment in this brain. I know bad stuff happens in life, but I know good stuff happens too, and it's the good stuff, the grace-moments in life that I wait for. They're there. They're everywhere. Some people just don't look for them or notice.

But living this secret life of brilliant hues has a flip-side: when life does turn out to be normal and the threads running across it seem to be weaving an average graham-colored bit of the tapestry, the heart-racing, flush-cheeked, eyes-sparkling existence begins to feel like a pacing tiger in a cage. I'm ready for the adventure. Where is it? I'm keeping a weather eye out for the next interesting person, the next impossibly beautiful moonrise, the next rose-red leaf silvered with frost, the next place to send an anonymous letter, the next way to secretly give a quiet blessing. It's an odd sort of discontentment, waiting for the peacock blues and currant reds and new-wheat greens in the tapestry of life to cover the graham-colors. When they don't come on their own, I make them myself, content in mixing dyes from the bits of everyday magic around me. I'm content with waiting, with letting wild hopes fly through my fingers each day, for there are always more hopes to be spent tomorrow. It's a luxury that optimists like myself can easily spare. But I will admit that our outlook can be exhausting,  for we spend hope at an extravagant rate and if it's a harsh master who would call it wasteful, our output is certainly tiring. I discussed this topic briefly with a friend this evening:

"Did you know it is slightly exhausting being an imaginative optimist? I mean, what's more tiring and frustrating: waiting for nothing to happen or waiting for anything to happen? In the first case you at least are fairly ready to stay where you are all your life. In the latter, you have the most delicious sense of 'any day now.'"

...or "any person now," or "any moment now," or "any page now," or "any conversation now," or "any query now." I don't believe the hope is poorly spent. I would always far rather be the optimist waiting with shining eyes and a laugh caught in her throat because anything could happen, than the pessimist who pulls on his tan trench-coat and trudges to work through snow whose beauty he can't even see because he can think of nothing but what a mess it'll make of the roads. I would always rather be That Person than a thousand Anyone Elses. I would always rather be a half-short, past-plump girl who makes generous messes in the kitchen than the tall, slender model who can't allow herself a slice of sourdough toast. I would always rather be the girl sleepy-eyed and smiling from an overdose of well-marked books than the frowning, tired-eyed girl who gave up reading because her schedule didn't allow it. I'd always rather wake up believing with my whole heart that impossible things can happen than going to bed each night satisfied that nothing did.

So let the tiger pace; it's striped and tawny and beautiful. Let people pass me by; they'll remember I smiled their direction. Let real photographers buy cameras; I just ask a small, friendly moment to capture the fragile beauties with my (now contentedly outdated) iPhone. Let real artists paint masterpieces; I just want my little, dusty watercolors and a brush not losing too many bristles.

Welcome to The Secret Life of Optimists, in Technicolor, 2015.

Pretty Mail

If you were anything like me as a kid, you would have had at least ten pen-pals over the years and lost just about as many through neglect, forgetting to send the letters your wrote, or just getting bored of the duty of writing back. As we learned to use the computer and the internet got more advanced and we learned how to type, writing letters dropped away almost completely. But you know me. I'm stubborn as anything and won't entirely let go of things I love. And I dearly love giving and receiving snail-mail. I have this passion for outwitting the post office. Doesn't that sound terrible? But seriously. I just weigh packages in my hand, slap stamps on, and stuff them in the mailbox. They always get to their destinations. Recently, I sent a copy of my book to a friend in Romania. I put five or six stamps on it, shoved it in the mail, and a week and a half later, it was in her hands. Now, if I'd gone into the post office and asked them what they wanted to charge me, that package would have cost something terribly like fifteen bucks.

All post-office regulations aside, sending and receiving mail the good old way will never go out of style. Who doesn't like getting a piece of mail? And furthermore, who doesn't like getting a piece of mail that is as much a delight to look at as it will be to read? Since I have three or four letters to respond to this weekend, I spent a little while on Pinterest last night browsing unique ways to address letters. Here are some of my favorites. May they serve as inspiration to you to send a surprise someone's way. <3

Plenilune Looks: Woodbird Swan Neck

The woman turned her head inward; the light caught her eye and made it spark yellow. In the shadow cast by the black velvet, the spark was very uncanny indeed.

"Commatissa Woodbird of Thrasymene."

"Thrasymene." Margaret smiled lightly, triumphantly. "I have heard of you."

-Plenilune by Jennifer Freitag

Sarah has golden eyes and because of this, when I went to play with her makeup, I immediately wanted to do a look based off of one of Jenny's warring characters, Woodbird Swan Neck. Woodbird is one of those people who claims your favorite man for herself, makes herself rather scarce, and leaves you feeling that you like her, but you're not really sure why you like her. I guess she's just wonderful and you can't help but like her even after not really knowing all that much about who she is or from whence she came.

//The Eyes//

I worked mostly in a palette of whites and gold. I highlit the inner corners of her eyes with white and worked from white into silver, from silver into cream, from cream into gold, and ended with a bit of brown in the creases. After this, I dragged my applicator covered in gold under bottom eyelid, then outlined the whole eye with black eye-shadow and a bit of black eyeliner leftover from last month's Birchbox. I wanted the look to be less precise than mine, more smudged and hectic and striking, so I showcased the gold of Sarah's eyes with dark rims and purple-brown eyebrows. Right underneath the brow bone, I put gold sparkles for drama.

//The Face & Lips//

Sarah's complexion is already quite olive and tanned at this time of year and Woodbird isn't a delicately-colored woman, I don't imagine. I brushed some cranberry-colored eye-shadow over Sarah's cheekbones and put one pass of blush over this to bring the pink back in. For her lips, I colored Sarah's lips with a dark pink liner and dabbed on a bit of my Revlon "Fire and Ice" lipstick. Over this, I dabbed some random, pale yellow lipgloss and in the very center of her lips, dabbed  a few more of the gold sparkles

Jenny, I hope you properly appreciate the fact that she has a token scratch on her cheek.

My sister is a beautiful person, isn't she?

"Up went the swan's head. Fiercely flashed the owlish eye. But the lips, which struck Margaret then as being very red, smiled genuinely."

-Plenilune by Jennifer Freitag

Swallows and Twilight: A Plenilune-Inspired Face

There's a Law of Travel that states that no matter how much fun you are having away, there will be fun things happening at home without you. While I was in Romania (home in one piece and more about that next time), Katie, Jenny, and Mirriam  all put together dramatic makeup looks inspired by Jenny's Plenilune. Me being me, I wished fervently that I was present with my little pots of paints to join in the fun. Well. Jenny said it wasn't too late and because this is my jet-lag day and I had some odd time, I painted up myself, Sarah, and Leah in various facial stages of Plenilune Magic. (Sorry that we are entirely sans jewelry, hairstyles, and fantastic clothing. This is a makeup look.) Hope you enjoy this fun departure from the usual fashion posts!

Plenilune is an equally warring, agrarian, and rich world. Everyone, even the lords and ladies, are closely connected to the ground upon with they live. My look was not inspired by any particular character (Jenny, I've got Sarah as Woodbird for you, so THERE), but rather by the swallows that swoop and glide  at twilight over the fields of Plenilune. I can imagine any of the ladies of the realm wearing something similar to an evening meal and thinking of those swallows and the twilight together. It's a high summer look. I enjoyed doing it. :)

//The Eyes//

I went with a palette of greens and violets to compliment my eye color and give the general impression of twilit-meadows. Work with me, here. I lined my eyes with black eye-shadow to make sure they were defined, then went to work with a black liquid eyeliner for the double-wings on the ends of my eyes. On my bottom lash, I underlined the under-liner with purple to continue the theme. My eyebrows, I darkened with eye-shadow to provide a bold stroke for the top of this dramatic look.

//The Lips and Face//

Because I traveled for 30 hours, slept for 10, and decided to play makeup artist, I used some concealer under my eyes and on a couple spots on my face. Then I used a little bit of Mama's blush, but not much. My lips are outlined with a dark pink liner and filled in with Rimmel Stayglossy in "Timeless Allure". Raspberry lips flatter my complexion best of all, I've found.

Ain't no De la Mares  gon' mess with diss chick.

//Home is behind the road ahead

and there are many paths to tread

through shadows to the edge of night,

until the stars are all alight.

Mist and shadow, cloud and shade,

all shall fade, all shall fade.//

My Royal Fashion Inspiration

I know many of you think my style icon is Audrey Hepburn, and in a way it is. She is definitely my vintage fashion inspiration...which is pretty easy to tell, given my fondness for black dresses, glam, and lipstick. ;)

As you can see, I'm quite proficient in the art of Hepburnism and enjoy finding lots of new combinations for that strain of my fashion taste. But I have other style inspirations and I want to highlight one of them today. For a long time I loved Princess Kate's style and I still do, but my Royal Fashion Icon is Princess Mary of Denmark. The woman has a precious story and is now my favorite royal. She is a wife and mother first and foremost and you can tell how much she loves her children by the sheer volume of pictures with them in tow. It's precious, I tell you. Not only is she a Cinderella-story, but she has pretty darn awesome fashion taste. Here is a collection of the best. Can you see why I've adopted her as my fashion muse?

Simple evening attire

Rocking the casual wear.

Classy Mama

Completely natural in her grace and beauty.

And if you aren't quite in love by now, I don't know where your heart is.

More women should take cues on fashion from people like the Crown Princess Mary of Denmark. She dresses with modesty, grace, and elegance. She's very understated, very natural, and appears to be the sort of person with whom you would feel at ease. There is nothing pretentious about her style of clothing, nothing that would make you feel that she thought ill of you. Gracious. Effortless. I want to be more like her in my fashion life.

Who is your style inspiration?

Oh.

And would you like to see my biker-chick ensemble? ;)

Courage, Merry.

Courage- n.; a word that can alternately inspire, and scare the heck out of a person

When I think of courage, I most often think of the stories of epic tales. Heroes, valiant men and women, unlikely princessess, and paupers-turned-kings. I think of Bilbo sneaking into Smaug's lair. I think of Frodo casting the ring into Mount Doom. I think of High King Peter and his brother and sisters. I think of Rebecca in Ivanhoe, and the monumental part she plays in saving England from Prince John. I think of Jane Eyre and her stalwart moral-courage. I think of the Scarlet Pimpernel, and of Jean Valjean, and of the dozens--even hundreds--of heroes and heroines who loom large in my mind when I think of the word "courage."

Seldom...oh how seldom do I think of what these folk were before the end.

I seldom think of Bilbo as the fat little hobbit who so hated the idea of leaving the Shire that he almost missed his chance for a grand adventure. I seldom think of Frodo as another fat hobbit who never meant to take the ring any farther than the borders of Rivendell--indeed, if that far! I seldom think of the Pevensies as frightened, war-torn children who are sent to live in a country manor-house because their old home is being bombed by Germans. I seldom think of Jean Valjean as the lost, confused, and ill-bred young man who stole a loaf of bread so his sister's children mightn't starve to death.

I seldom think of any of these things, and yet when I do, the stories expand like Pandora's box. Before, the characters' heights of courage and valour seem positively unattainable. But when I start to take their story--their lives--like I am forced to take my own { that is, one moment at a time}, I start to see a trend.

Courage is not a long measure.

Courage is the shreds of determination, madness, great-hearts, and grit pieced together end-to-end till, at the last few pages of the story when you're finally looking back, you see that it was courage after all that brought you this far.

See, God has given us a love for these stories as mirror-shadows of His story, so that we might manage to begin to comprehend just "what sort of tale we've fallen into, Mr. Frodo." That's the premise of the devotional, Epic by John Eldridge, and something I firmly believe. And, you know...I start taking these stories in little tiny pieces and I start looking at Bilbo burrowing his head in a comfy pillow at Bag End to stop out the sound of the dwarf-song, and I start watching Frodo take a last walk through the Shire, and I start looking at Rebeccas as an unloved Jewess and suddenly I realize:

They're no different than me.

They had no more courage to start with than I do. They were afraid, they were wretched, they were confused and bewildered and sometimes wanted nothing more than to cling to their own familiar doorstep with the morning glories and nasturtiums growing close to the little round windows. But they simply didn't. They set out on the road, and they kept going no matter what happened. Because the authors who wrote their stories (imitating the Author Who wrote mine) understood one key thing about courage: Sometimes a valiant spirit is not the courage needed. Sometimes the courage needed is a chin lifted into the face of the wind, a boot dug into the ground, and a heart that says, 'No matter. I will go forward. You cannot make me go back.'

These characters weren't courageous because they sat in Hobbiton or London or Ashby or Paris thinking, "I will be brave. I will have courage." More, it was just a blind clinging to what was right before their very faces when the path got narrow and foggy and beset with perils of every sort. More, it was a faith that everything that should happen would, and their responsibility was not to guess what the end ought to be, but to put one more foot on the twisting stairway because "Up" was the only way, or to go one more league on the moor because it was right when all their heart was longing for the love they'd left behind at Thornfield Hall. 

In short, it's the words Eowyn whispers in Merry's ear as they ready for battle:

"Courage, Merry. Courage for our friends."

I know it's hard to see sometimes--I know it's hard to fathom the idea that you could be living a story as large as those you love, but it's true. And the courage you need is ready for the taking. A sweeping end-vision is, of course, a beautiful gift, but perhaps we should stop asking God for courage for the whole way. Perhaps we should start asking Him for just enough to take that step forward. You never know when that step might take you to the Happily Ever After you've always dreamed of.

diy dizziness. :)

All right...so I admit that I'm a D.I.Y. fan. I have hardly ever done any one of the amazing ideas I've seen, but I hope to soon. :D Lately I've seen lots of inspiring ideas on Pinterest.com. Here are some of my favorites!

Just a headband, a lace applique, and a bit of fabric stiffener. Beaucoup d'elegance!

I have also been thinking of doing a headband like this, but with some of the peacock feathers I have in my room. (they are just sitting in a big bouquet right now--pretty, but useless. :)

Homemade finger paints! I've gotta make these as soon as Levi gets a little older. :)

These adorable candle-holders are made by soaking cloth doilies in a sugar-starch and then forming it around a blown-up balloon. Once the doilies dry, pop the balloon and there you have it! :)

Turning a colander into a lampshade! The reflections are awesome. :)

What a cool idea for natural, leafy art! So easy!

A place to use all that loose change lying around? Oh yes. :)

Awesome idea: Draw designs with Elmer's glue, let it dry, and then paint the whole thing one color. :)

This is an epoch in the life of Me. Look at that and tell me it's not brilliant! A fork bent into a picture-holder!

Melting crayons onto canvas. Wild, but beautiful! This would be adorable for a modern children's room, wouldn't it? I think I'd like to do it, just to melt the crayons and watch them dribble. :D

Paper birds & birdcages. Simply adorable.

And for all of us Southerners....

Iced-tea Popsicles! Pure genius. :)

I feel a string of craftiness coming on! :) What are some of the DIY's you are going to try? :)