Posts Tagged ‘picture’

ordinary

“Well the course, the chain of events, that would be the evidence, some say it’s coincidence
I say I found something greater than myself and started accepting it
And I can see, feel, taste and smell again
And I’m the only one with the hammer to break this shell I’m in
It’s gonna take me crackin’ this mirror to finally be myself again
Met my potential a long time ago, and I’m not stopping til I resemble him”

2016 was a weird year of ups and downs for me. A year of challenging myself to get back to being my best self, mentally and physically. A year of letting go of things I shouldn’t hold onto anymore, or embracing things that are better for me in the long run. I’ve had periods of productivity and somewhat success, and periods of doubt that stifles creativity to the point of madness.

And here I stand, ready to take on my dreams again. I keep saying it. I keep telling myself that I’ll get back to the important things, like writing. But now, I have no choice. It’s now or never, Angel. Kick that ass back into gear.

“I don’t know why,
But it’s like I can’t stay quiet.
This is my voice,
I can’t let it die inside me.”

I’m stepping into 2017 with big dreams. I’m exhausted, after barely surviving the constant ups and downs of 2016, but the desire to move forward is there.

Let’s make this our year, shall we?

-Angel

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keepgoing

It’s always a curious thing, letting go of some aspects of your life in order to embrace other things that feel more important. The seed is planted, and you’re ready to watch it bloom. You’ve been watering it and giving it all of your love. Sometimes, something amazing blooms. Other times, nothing happens. You’re left alone in the dirt, waiting for something to come from nothing, and having no idea whether it will become everything you hoped for, or leave you as you are – alone in the dirt.

I started down a path a few months ago, terrified and unsure of myself, with hopes of pushing myself toward something better. I’ve been hard at work on Wandering NerdGirl. I’ve been working on my health. Trying to spend more time with friends. I’ve been working on things I’ve never done before. Spending time with my nieces and going to Six Flags. And all of these things can bring me some temporary comfort, and the occasional feeling of accomplishment.

But you know what I haven’t been doing lately? Writing – working on new stuff, or editing, or finishing Work-in-Progress stuff. I haven’t been taking any pictures. I haven’t been drawing or painting. And not doing these particular things is really waging war on my brain.

I just came home a week ago from a last minute trip, mostly just an adventure, with a bit of excitement. I was on top of the world when I was coming home. I felt decent for the first time in a while emotionally. But no sooner than I returned to normal life, did Life decide to step in and remind me that I was coming back to normal, and needed to lose that happy, euphoric feeling. Don’t forget who you really are, it seemed to say this week.

However, I am fighting back. I have full intention to get some writing and hopefully some drawing done this weekend. I will not allow myself to keep feeling like a failure.

More soon.

~Angel

horrorghoul

I, myself, am strange and unusual.” – Lydia Deetz (Beetlejuice)

For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved monsters. My mom proudly tells people the stories: I cut teeth watching the Universal Monsters. I had a treasured Wolfman I carried around named Wolfy. One of her favorite stories involves me sitting outside with a black pot making “potions” while our new neighbors moved in. I idolized Elvira instead of pop stars. I grew up with a special place in my heart for Frankenstein’s monster and hunted for ghosts. The same year I got my first cellphone, I got my first Ouija board. It’s safe to say I started out a weirdo.

By the time I was 13, I was obsessed with slasher movies. I had pictures of Freddy Krueger, Michael Myers, and Jason Voorhees hanging in my locker. My older brother Ben took me to see Freddy VS Jason in theaters as my 13th birthday present. This was the point in my life it moved into obsession. I read horror. I watched horror. It started coming through in my art, in how I dressed, etc. Most importantly, I started writing horror.

For those who have never heard the story: When I was in the 8th grade, I had a nightmare, and this nightmare was so intense, I had to write it down just to cope with it. A few months later, in my Adavnced English class, we were assigned a project. We had to write a short story of oh-so-many pages or more. I was probably the most excited kid in the class. This was my chance to really prove myself. And the first thing that came to my mind was my nightmare. Which, luckily, I had written down.

So, I poured my heart into it. I made myself relive the awful nightmare, and then amplified it. It was already scary, and then I transformed it into something more, something that really made people uncomfortable. By the time it was finished, I was afraid to turn it in to my teacher. What if it backfired and I ended up in counseling? What if I ended up in trouble? Or she thought it was awful? I turned it in anyway along with the rest of my class and put it out of my mind.

Then next day, when I was in line for lunch, my teacher found me and pulled me aside, only telling me she needed to talk to me about my story. I knew this was it, and I was in trouble. But instead of being scolded, or finding out I was going to see the counselor instead of getting lunch, she told me that she loved my story. She had apparently been reading and grading our stories before she went to bed the night before, and had gotten through a few before she came to mine. After getting completely hooked into the story, once she was finished, she had to step outside for a few moments afterward to calm down. I was maybe 13 or 14, and I had done something pretty amazing for my age.

And then, she asked if she could let the other teachers read it, as well as read it to my class. I was shocked, but agreed. She said she’d read it to the other kids without naming who I was until it was finished.

This, my friends… This is the catalyst to my life. This is what took me from writing stories to keep my brain sane, to writing stories to keep my brain sane with the intent of making a career from them. I was so anxious waiting for her to read it, I didn’t think it could get worse. Until it did, the moment she started. I watched, fascinated, as my classmates reacted to my words. Kids that hated me and my own friends all on the edge of their seats. For something I had written.

I remember the overwhelmed feeling the minute she revealed I had written the story. For a brief moment, I was the talk of the school. They said I’d be the next Stephen King. I was on top of the world. She even kept the paper to read to her future classes.

To this day, it’s still one of the most unsettling stories I’ve written. I don’t want to give much away about it because I’d eventually like to rewrite it into something great.

horrorshelf

A few things in my horror collection.

I wrote, and wrote, and wrote. I filled notebook after notebook. Printed hundreds and thousands of sheets of paper containing my words. I expanded my horror movies I watched, hunting desperately for something new at Movie Gallery. I worked in a haunted house as a scareactor. I bought books on writing. I studied it. I learned from people who understood the business better than I did. I kept at it and kept at it. I became involved with Ax Wound. 

Then, my life changed. I went to college. I got a real job. I got sick. I spent less time on writing, and even less time than that dedicated to my horror. And while losing myself because I wasn’t writing was bad enough, I think I lost just as much when horror got pushed aside.

I watched horror movies occasionally: sick days, sleepless nights, Halloween time, hanging out with like-minded friends. But nothing like I had done before. I spent a long time trying to figure out what was wrong with me, and then last year it really sunk in:

I had gotten into writing through horror. It had given me some of my passion. And when I got myself back to writing regularly, I hadn’t gotten myself back into horror as much. And there was a problem there. Something was missing there.

I’ve been trying to devote more time to myself and what I want and need in various aspects of my life lately. And horror is one of those things. It sounds so silly to some people – “You’re upset because you don’t spend so much time watching scary movies?” But when you don’t know the whole story, you don’t always understand.

Monsters and slashers and blood and gore, those are all part of me. This are all parts of who I am, and what I do as a writer. Sure, everything I write isn’t a horror story. But sometimes they could use a good dash of horror or darkness.

I’ve realized that if I’m going forward with this career, then I will need to go back  to the basics, for the love of horror.

~Angel

deadbeforethedayisgone

I know it’s been a while since I have posted anything, and there’s a variety of reasons. I’ve been dealing with a lot lately. Changes, for better or worse. A torrent of good news and bad news leaving me overwhelmed. Luckily, I’ve been doing the opposite of what I typically do (which is wallowing in my own self pity while accomplishing nothing in the process.) I’ve been trying to focus on what’s best for me – for my health, for my happiness, for my future. I’ve been keeping a decent writing schedule and working on a new rough draft. I’m trying to nurture my body back into a state that I can properly function and not be quite so frequently sick. I’ve been trying to make sure that I do things to make Angel happy, instead of everyone else coming first 100% of the time.

But you know what sucks about this? I’m not used to it. And since I’m not used to treating myself a little better, it’s resulted in a mental assault on myself. Because I feel like I’m being selfish, and I don’t deserve to want what is best for me. I keep trying to push through, because I know I’m getting close to having my old self back – the version of myself that’s less broken, less corrupted. The Self I need right now. But it’s breaking through that barrier that’s tearing me apart. I know I’m almost there, but I know I’m fighting myself on it. I want to give up. Today was especially rough.

I started to doubt myself. How will I ever make it? In life? Against illness? How will I ever publish a novel? Why should I think I’ll ever sell another piece of art or get paid for another photo shoot? I’m not strong enough for this. It kept pounding in my head with each heart beat: I can’t do this.

Suddenly, I didn’t know if I could go on, period. Or if I did, if I could keep going with my life. Maybe it was time to give up on my childish dreams and finally grow up and join reality.

Until, I read this quote earlier:

 “Like a dandelion up through the pavement, I persist.” – Wentworth Miller (please see his Facebook post here)

That post, by a man I already admire, really struck me. But that quote? Oh, that quote. That fueled the fires inside me.

So my goal? Stick to my writing schedule. Crank out chapter after chapter. Continue to work hard at the things I want. Because I persist, despite all the things that want to stop me.

This is the year I get to take control back. It hasn’t been easy, and I’m sure it won’t get easier any time soon. But I will persist.

Expect more soon.

~Angel

“In the face of such hopelessness as our eventual, unavoidable death, there is little sense in not at least trying to accomplish all of your wildest dreams in life.” – Kevin Smith, Tough Sh*t: Life Advice From a Fat, Lazy Slob Who Did Good.

kevinsmith

All week, I’ve devoted time when I get home to writing. I had a migraine, and still made myself power through outlining three chapters. The next night, after finishing my taxes, despite having another migraine, I started writing a few pages of a chapter. Not the word counts I need to have if I want to do this for a living, I know. But the point is that I’m making a routine for myself again, despite what my body wants me to do.

Why have I been so determined, even when I have been in rough shape the last several weeks?

I have been wanting to read Kevin Smith’s memoir for a little while now, and after meeting him in Reno, it’s become a mission I have been set on. Finally, I got my (signed) copy and dove right in. That’s where I found the quote above. And it hit me. I met him during a very bad disease flare. I finally got his book, and was reading this quote, during ANOTHER bad disease flare. It resonated with me. The more I thought on it, the more I read it, the more it became something I felt I needed to read.

It isn’t as though I haven’t had similar bursts of motivation, or even inspiration based on a similar concept. But it’s the fact that someone I admired so much, that brought so much happiness when I was so miserable, had written this quote, and I had read it while yet again miserable…

It sparked the motivation I needed.

I will die. Everyone does. And what scares me more than the idea of dying, is feeling like I’ve wasted life and talent and drive. I can BE the person I want to be. I just have to DO IT.

So I’ve been writing, and keeping up with Wandering NerdGirl, and trying revive Hail to the Geek, Baby (which I haven’t had time to post on in FOREVER), and rebuilding my photography portfolio to take it in a direction I’d like it to be in. I’m working on cutting out soda again (UGH) and eating healthier options so my body is treated better. I’ve been working on myself and working at my dreams. And it feels pretty damn good.

Speaking of taking pictures for my portfolio…:

Some pictures my best friend, Brittaney, and I took the weekend before.

So, yeah. I’m doing things. And stuff. And trying to get somewhere again. Because I’m tired of talking about things and not doing enough of them. Health and depression can back off. It’s time for me to everything I can, while I can.

~Angel

I have been very, very cautious when it comes to thinking about what I want out of 2016, because last year as soon as I set my goals for the coming year, it all came crashing down around me: I was losing my job, my aunt was very sick, and then to top it all off, the stress triggered a bad flare in my body and I literally spent New Years in the bathroom vomiting and running a fever. The beginning of 2015 was a hard one. I didn’t feel like I achieved anything. I was uninspired and stuck most of the time, and I hated it. And considering how rough the last month or so has been health wise, 2016 could go either way.

Here we are, the end of a very chaotic year, and I have found something: I want to draw again. And by “I want to draw again” – I mean that I AM drawing again. Instead of just whining that I feel the need to work on some art, I AM. I’m sketching and prepping for some new paintings and practicing to get myself back into the swing of things. And for once, I feel good about it. They’re good drawings, considering how out of practice I am. And people LIKE them. They want the sketches to keep coming. It’s bizarre, to me at least. Mostly, so far, it’s been a lot of character sketches from Star Wars: The Force Awakens.

No: This is NOT my art.

No: This is NOT my art.

So, bring on 2016.

I will write as much as I possibly can.

I will work on my art purely for the happiness it brings to my own heart.

I will work on my collection and appreciate everything I have so far.

I will try to keep this train wreck body from completely derailing.

I will help the world be a better place.

I will not, most of all, let 2016 be the year I am defeated. Not by myself or anyone else. I will keep going. I will gain new ground.

So, let’s do this. Bring on 2016.

~Angel

RAGEAGAINSTDEATH

Typically, I make some sort of Thanksgiving related “Thankful” post. Today, I show how thankful I am for what turned around a very bad weekend.

There is a giant reason that this blog is called “Misadventures of a Misfit” – Frequently, my best laid plans fall apart. Hope for the best, expect the worst, settle for something in between. More often than not lately, these plans are damaged by my wonderful body deciding to do something terrible to me at an extremely inopportune time. I was hoping to come back from Reno with fantastic tales of comic con, and loads of pictures of me super excited and looking like a major dork. But instead I come back still battling my body from what can best be described as the worst flare I’ve had since the initial, horrible flare that put me in Barnes hospital for 3 days and started this autoimmune (mis)adventure.

For a few weeks now, I have been very scared that I’ll have to have a hysterectomy after my procedure. I’ve been very scared to find out I have a cancer I wasn’t bracing for.

This weekend, I was very scared I was going to die.

And as weird as this statement sounds, the weekend was saved by Jay and Silent Bob.

I had just gotten into the con, and my first thing I needed to do was get in line for my picture with Jason Mewes and Kevin Smith. Jason was going to be there for the con itself, but Kevin however was literally there that one day for that one dual photo op with Mewes. I have a lot of admiration for Kevin Smith as a writer and as a creator and person in general and knew this may well be the most I’ll ever get to do in terms of meeting him.

Now, I will say this – I had not felt particularly well this day. But I also hadn’t felt well for a while, hence why I had gone to an ASAP appointment with my surgeon and tests and now the procedure in two weeks. So I wasn’t phased really. It was what it was and had been. I had things to do.

Unfortunately, just before I went up for my photo op, when I had just a few people in line before me, something went wrong in my body. Suddenly I was dizzy, and realized I was going to be ill. Apparently, my blood pressure dropped, my O2 dropped, and ultimately I dropped. To top off this horribleness, I vomited as I went down. Hello, hundreds or so people around me. I am Chronically Ill Girl, and you are not used to my horrible body.

To make this portion of the story as short as possible: I was not well, the Wizard World staff took very good care of me, until the EMT came, checked me out, and had me wheeled away to the first aid station, where I was urged to go to the hospital considering everything going on with my past medical history as well as my current concerns. In reality, I should have agreed for them to call the ambulance. But I was already heartbroken that I’d missed my one shot to see Kevin Smith, and I wasn’t about to miss seeing Adam West and Burt Ward on top of everything else. I got cleaned up and changed and went on with my day.

When I was walking away from my photo op with Adam West and Burt Ward, I was weaving through the booths, and saw that Jason Mewes was at his table doing autographs. I figured I could salvage some of that photo op mishap by at least meeting Mewes. One half was better than not at all, right? And at least I had hopes he didn’t know I was the girl that went down in the line outside.

And he didn’t know… Until my mother told him.

MEWES

So at this point, I’m feeling embarrassed all over again, and I’m ready to shuffle off with my autograph and hide in the corner, especially since I still felt horrible. But that’s when Mewes told me he felt terrible for what happened with me, and that I didn’t get to meet Kevin.

Then he took my number and gave it to his assistant at the table. And told me he’d help me meet Kevin before he left for his flight. Hugs and selfies and many “Thank you”s. I cried when I walked away. I couldn’t believe this was happening to ME.

Now, I’ve been very nervous about actually talking about this, because what was done for me was something I didn’t ask for or expect, and I don’t want someone to ever take advantage of the kindness of others. But still, this kindness meant more to me than I think either of them realized.

So, I went back to my hotel room to shower and rest and in general gear myself up for a few more minutes at con and to prepare myself to somehow meet Kevin Smith.

When 5pm rolled around, my mom and I were waiting in the hotel lobby, as instructed, with promise that Kevin knew I was there waiting for him. I was weak and dizzy and severely anemic, but absolutely determined not to miss this opportunity.

And then I saw him heading my way, iconic jersey and all, and I completely lost focus of how bad I felt as my brain took over.

kevinsmith

I got to meet Kevin Smith. I got to hug him, and take selfies, and he asked how I was feeling. And I GOT TO MEET KEVIN SMITH.

The admiration I have for him already on top of how absolutely freaking AMAZING it was that he and Mewes did this for me made my entire trip. Unfortunately, not long after this, I went downhill again. But for this amount of time, I was on top of the world.

Rage against death by making some art today.

It really sparked a fire in me. I want to create things while I still can. And if ever, for some insane reason, someone looks to me like I do to him, I will do all I can to help make their day too. Someday, even, I’d like to repay Jason and Kevin both. Because something so small and simple to one person, can mean the whole world to another. This was the highlight of my trip, and has turned around the doom and gloom attitude I’ve had toward my health. I can accomplish anything I want, and I don’t have to let anything get in my way. It doesn’t matter if I live ten more years or 60 more.

I will rage against death.

Time to make the best of what time I have. Time to make my mark.

~Angel

Edited to add: Based off of symptoms and blood work, it looks like this was all brought on by a very, very bad disease flare to rival that of the initial one in 2012 that sparked the whole Mysterious Sickness of Doom thing. So I’m still not 100%, but I’m recovering, slowly but surely. Two weeks until my biopsy!