On November 21st, I became a fourteen-year-old. 🙂 It feels strange, really. Because every year there’s that small sense of pride that I am officially a year older. But at the same time, it doesn’t really matter to me. Last year I was excited because it meant that I was finally old enough to see the other Transformers movies, which I’d been waiting for years to see. But fourteen? Well… Fourteen isn’t a huge milestone or anything. Just sort of an age. I guess I’ve always looked old for my age–and acted older–because at twelve people thought I was the age that I am now! So maybe I can pass as a sixteen-year-old now? I can totally drive, right? 😛
I had a great time, though! My grandma babysat my brothers so that my parents could take me out to a restaurant of my choosing–MEXICAN FOOD (refried beans, O how I love thee)–and to see ‘The Hunger Games: Catching Fire part 1’! Of course I’ve had ‘The Hanging Tree’ song stuck in my head since I saw that movie. I think I’ve almost memorized all of the lyrics by now. 😀 And it’s helpful that I’m re-reading the books, so the whole story is fresh in my mind.
There wasn’t a party, but I did get some gifts. And my grandpa came over, which is nice because he’s always busy. 🙂 Really, my Birthday gift was my iPod–which I got about a month ago. And that’s the most expensive gift I’ve ever gotten–plus I needed it for texting my parents–so no complaining here! Other than that, my best friend got me a new waterbottle–which I needed (and it’s my favorite color, purple)–and a dainty lil’ necklace with a ‘J’ on it.
She has a matching one (our names both start with a J) so it’s sort of like a friendship necklace. 🙂 She also came over, so in a way it was a super mini party.
Aaand finally, this thingy-mah-jigger. A pencil bag from my brothers/dad, that looks like a monster. And it’s also a huge zipper.
And plenty of Birthday wishes from family and friends. 😀
Well, actually, let me clarify that. I am a Middleschooler, because I am Middleschool age. I’m in the 8th Grade. So I am indeed a Middleschooler. Accept that, you know, I’m not. Allow me to explain.
I am socially awkward, but I love to talk just one-on-one with somebody about stuff (shows/movies and books, mostly). Crowds of loud people–loud noises just in general–bother me. Although I can sleep through my brothers pounding around the house, and I can tune them out–so it’s not too bad. It’s more like unexpected loud noises. I prefer a cup of tea and a book, or a computer. A friend nearby, or somebody who I know well–but I also need my alone time. However because I am Homeschooled, I try to have a decent attitude when I go places that I don’t really want to go, since I don’t really talk to people other than my family everyday. I dislike activities that involve anything other than sitting or standing, especially if it–once again–involves crowds. So far I just sound like a regular nerd/geek, right? Right. But there’s more.
When I walk into a room of Middleschoolers, I’m nervous but excited to be around other kids my age. I rarely get to commune with people in my grade, or around my age just in general. So expecting to be surrounded by people who I can relate to, I go forth. Into a room full of… Middleschoolers. As it turns out, kids my age don’t act like me. Or, actually, it’s the other way around. (I’ve actually got a funny story on that.)
Me: I pretty much explained the basics above, but to give you a bigger idea of myself–I am an MK, or a ‘third-culture kid’. Adults often tell me that I’m very mature for my age, but I usually brush it off as them being nice or just surprised at how quiet I can be.
Real Middleschoolers: Obnoxious, loud, and–frankly, not to be mean–most of them are dumb. On their own, they can be smart. More calm, easier to talk to and just–um–approach, in general. But the moment their friend shows up or they get into a group of people their age, they’re brain goes OUT of the window. The window of a speeding car, where it lands splat on the asphalt. Suddenly everybody is pulling each other’s hair, slapping each other, tackling, hugging, picking on one another. Being really, really loud. For instance. Instead of: “Oh, hi Mackenzie!” It’s: “OHHHH HEEEEEY MACKENZIE!”
I went to a three-hour long party for Middleschoolers that my Youth Group had today, and I pretty much walked into a zoo. Or a mental institute. It’s hard to tell, but either will do. There should have been a sign saying: “Please don’t feed the animals teenagers junk food, not only is this unhealthy for them, but it makes them aggressive.” Seriously. If you’re going to invite a Youth Group over to your house, you need bear boxes to store your food in. It’s great to supply snacks, but it does get crazy.
Awkwardly I dog around the other kids. I don’t want to sit all alone and draw/read, because I’m here to talk and have fun, not do the stuff that I do everyday all day. But people my age are impossible to speak reason with. It. Is. Impossible. For instance, this happened tonight.
Middleschoolers: “HEY, LET’S PLAY MAN HUNT.” (Hide-and-go-Seek in the dark.)
Me: “Oh yeah, I like that game!”
Middleschoolers: *A group of them go outside, beginning to rambunctiously sort into teams* “OKAY YOU YOU AND YOU GO WITH YOU AND YOU YOU AND YOU GO WITH HER AND–” *Meanwhile, everybody is still being just as loud but has no idea what team their on*
Me: “What team am I on? Excuse me what–um–what team am I on?” *Turns to the girl next to me* “I don’t know what team I’m on. I might be on yours but I’m not sure.” *She doesn’t know what team she’s on either. But eventually we’re all sorted out–to an extent–and a Middleschool girl, a younger girl and myself are all hunters*
About fifteen minutes later we still haven’t started the game because nobody can keep their hands off of each other. A boy pulls a girls hair, the girl gets into a slap-tackle fight with him, it probably spreads. We finally start the game, but by the time the first round is done I have to go home.
And that my friends is how I am not a Middleschool girl. Unnecessary touching (seriously had a boy run up to me and slap both of my arms before running off. Didn’t even know the kid) , behavior, and so on. The highlight of my night was speaking with an adult for a few minutes about The Matrix. Oh, and beating some people at Mario Kart, which as it turns out, I’m a pro at. But mostly talking about The Matrix with a sane person.
I just… I don’t know… I hit puberty too, but I still have a brain. It’s clouded by hormones a lot of the time, yeah. But while everybody else is choking in the funny smoke, I have a gas-mask.
As Halloween drew closer and closer this year, I became more reluctant to dress up and go trick-or-treating. I’ve always loved dressing up as a character or animal and getting candy, but even when I was younger I was always nervous about walking up to a stranger’s house and asking for candy. And as each year passes, I’ve grown less and less excited about holidays. I don’t start planning my birthday three months beforehand, for one.
So, this year I kept saying that ‘I wasn’t going to go trick-or-treating, because I don’t want to’. Of course, I did end up going. 😛 There were two big reasons as to why I didn’t want to go.
1. We have no costumes. We haven’t had costumes for awhile.
2. Now that I’m older, I feel like I’m that creepy teenager who’s still trying to act like a kid. I do not want to be that. Also teenagers are just kind of looked at in a very: “What are you doing?” way. I understand why, but it’s annoying when someone doesn’t seem to trust me just because of my age.
But then, DUNDUNDUNNN, I got a costume. I was… Drum-roll please… The one, the only, the dorky…
Napoleon Dynamite. And while at a Halloween party, somebody from church was Kip.
Happy Halloween!
Aaand on to NaNoWriMo. This would be my fourth year participating in NaNo’, but this year I haven’t been nearly as excited for the yearly writing exercise. It actually struck November 1st and I didn’t realize until much later in the day. I’m already working on a comic, plotting it out, designing characters, back stories, etc. And finally, after about four years of writing, I’m really trying to work persistently on a story. Instead of my usual routine. Getting excited over it, and then coming up with a new idea and ditching the previous project that I made such a big deal out of. And it’s about time too! This is the story that I’m actually planning beforehand, and what’s more–it’s a graphic novel. So both my love for writing and drawing will clash. 😀
After writing and editing the heck out of my story ‘The Scribe‘, we drove down to the local Heritage Center and submitted it into the contest. A couple of weeks passed where a bunch of crazy stuff happened–like us going to Legoland Florida, which popped up out of the blue when someone actually payed for us to go–which was, by the way, amazing. And we also visited a place down in Florida, met a bunch of people (and re-met a bunch), etc. There was also time just spent at home lazing in front of the computer, but we’ll make like a reality TV show and pretend that doesn’t happen as often as it does.
Until finally, the day came. We put on some nice clothes (Indian outfit for me. :D) and drove down to the center. Which, to my surprise, was filled with a lot more people than I expected. And they were of a very different crowd than what you usually run into in our town. These people were all actually artistically (oh, an art contest was announcing its results as well) talented in some kind of way. Whether they were there because of the writing contest or the art contest, they all took their time chatting, looking around at the paintings–all by local artists–and munching on the food laid out. Oh, okay. If I wasn’t nervous before, I was nervous now that I was in a room full of people. Full of competitors. Did I mention that I don’t enter contests often? Well, I don’t. And that is to say that I never enter contests.
Finally, after about thirty minutes, the time comes to announce the winners. I can feel myself growing excited just typing it down right now. Someone calls for attention and starts reading out the names of the winners, starting in the category for younger kids. Then they get to my category, and starting with third place, they roll through the winners. Now, I’ll be honest. When I entered this contest I was all but 100 percent positive–make that 99%–that I would win first place. Not to boast, not to stick my nose up and speak in my Capital accent about the Hunger Games, not to be an annoying brag. But I’m a good writer, and I know it, because people have been telling me all my life–as I have practiced–that I am.
However, as they’re about to announce 1st place, all of the doubt comes crashing down. What if it’s not me? What if they invited me (they E-mailed me saying that I’d won a place) on accident, or some other twisted thing happened? My heart is beating so hard that I can hear it and feel it and that was when I realized I should probably start breathing again. Because, you know, not-passing out would be nice.
And then they read my name, and my story’s name. My heart leaps, and to my surprise he actually takes time to say something else–which he didn’t do for the others. He says that my story was the only one that received more than one 1st place vote, and was actually voted for unanimously. I walk shakily forward to grab the certificate from the man–which has an envelope enclosing a fifty-dollar check connected to it–quickly walking away into a backroom with the other winners. I didn’t actually know what he had said because I was too excited to fully pay attention (and I didn’t know what the word ‘unanimously’ meant at the time).
Still shaking, my heart calms down almost immediately. I mean, I was flooded with triumph and a feeling of did-that-really-just-happen?! But I managed to start a conversation with one of the other winners, stand still for photos, and then take some more photos with family. I may not have been looking at the camera most of the time, and I’m also not very good at smiling for the camera. At all. But hopefully I won’t look too lost in the newspaper. 😛
We then celebrated by getting chocolate milkshakes on the way back. That was one of the BEST weeks of my life. It’s really hard to match that.
Photo taken by my mom.
If you’d like to read my story (don’t worry, it’s very short), it’s right here on my blog: https://thegirlnamedjack.wordpress.com/2014/09/16/the-scribe-short-novella-for-a-contest/
Also, random fact. It’s my 222nd post! Why is that exciting? Because it’s all 2’s. Which is fun somehow.
Facial expressions are one of my favorite things to draw. It’s incredibly fun for me to create a character, express their personality and emotions, with just their face. Of course I also enjoy drawing poses–which helps express character and feeling as well–but we won’t get into that today. Now, onward!
To start, here’s a basic, blank, facial expression. Happy, looking somewhere, not really doing anything…
Now, let’s change things up a bit. By just adding two eyebrows like so, you have a wondering look. One down, one up, this is a basic ‘what’s happening again?’ look.
But if we just change the eyebrows (or eyes) to be slanted inward, covering the eyes a little and sharply drawing back sort of like a check mark–you have an angry, determined face.
Or we could tweak it a little, put some wrinkle lines to give him a sorry look.
See how easy it is to completely change the expression?
Now, moving on to ears. You have to remember that animals express themselves with things like ears, tails, stance. But today we’ll just focus on ears. For instance: Laid back ears (especially in a less realistically-drawn animal) can mean many things. Guilty, sad, angry, tired, etc. (You can express some of these emotions without the ears laid back, but you see what I mean.) Here we have a look of annoyance.
But you have to do more than just ears. Remember that the eyes/eyebrows, wrinkles/other facial features, and mouth still need to exist and express. Just laid back ears could mean anything.
By just changing the mouth a little, we can have him looking differently.
Or by lifting the ears a little and changing some other features, he’s suddenly happy, content.
But if you’re going for a really crazy character, you might want him to look insane. For this I would shrink the pupils, and really make him look strained or just–well–insane. For instance, adding wrinkles and bony spots, the like. I like to shade the shadows to throw all of their features into a more dramatized look, but I’m just sketching for an example. 😉 Oh and if he’s really gone crazy, chances are he hasn’t been taking care of himself very well. So maybe make his fur looks clumped and spiky. For these types of characters, I think their ears can be positioned however you want and they would still look okay–unless you’re going for a very specific emotion.
Kind of creepy? Maybe.
Now very briefly we’ll talk about designing characters. I’ll use a cute, young character for an example… Maybe make his pupils kind of big, a small smile (or a big one, depends) on his face, very few wrinkles and soft features. And hey, why not add some fluff to him. Notice the ears are perked.
Aaaand that’s all for now! Please keep in mind that these are not ALL of the expressions that can be drawn, all of the details, or anything. My sketchy examples only begins to describe it, and the real way to learn is to start practicing. 😉
If there’s anything else you would like a walk-through on, just ask and I might do it. 😉
I know that my art is mostly kept to DeviantART, but tonight I’ve decided to make a walk-through of sorts on my blog. Because although I post some finished art here, I want to take you guys through the creating process. 🙂
First, the sketch. I may sketch out several different ideas of what I want before finally settling on one–which I will continue to tweak and clean up as I go. Because it’s nice to have cleaner lines to follow so that if I pick up the project again a long time later, I’ll still be able to see what I was going for. A lot of ideas are sketched out, and then left that way to rot in some corner of my computer–until I finally clean out my folders and put the poor abandoned files out of their misery.
For an example, I’ll use a t-shirt design that I’ve been working on for the past few days.
I’ll use writing as an example, for my author friends. This is the first draft. An idea being tested, tried in different ways. It’s sloppy and sketchy, and as I go back through it I’ll clean it up here and there, adding more details or taking away, just enough to last me until later.
Next, the colors. I choose my colors and get to work.
This is probably my least favorite part of the process. It’s in the works of becoming a good picture, but without the shading, it just looks silly and messy. I have to go back through and color over all of the weird gaps where canvas shows through, fix up the colors, outline the details, etc. This version that you see here has already been cleaned up–but believe me–it wasn’t pretty at first. Picture a blob of colors. There you go.
Then I shade. The shading can be the most longest part of the whole thing, but it’s my favorite. I love to shade things for some reason. Shadows and lighting are really fun for me. Now, unfortunately I don’t have any semi-shaded pictures of it, but I have the finished image.
The finished product is much different from the sketch! Sometimes whole limbs will change, or etc, but for this one it was only small details (like the facial expression). So I slap my signature onto there, double check it, maybe go back and triple-check it later, and post it on dA/Facebook. Often times I won’t notice mistakes until later, when I’ve already uploaded it somewhere. But then I can just fix it and re-upload the image in it’s newest form. 😉
Aaaand that’s all! I hope you enjoyed this look into my art. If you’d like to see more detailed walk-throughs or tutorials–like how I draw eyes–than just leave comment saying so.
I’ve probably mentioned this before, but I’m entering a writing contest, and may be entering an art contest. Both are local contests–however–I don’t yet feel confident enough to enter my art in an actual contest. Who knows, maybe I would win and it’s just a mental thing holding me back. But whenever I think about entering my art in an actual real-life contest, not just a contest on dA, it makes me really nervous. Also there are actual artists here in my hometown. A lot more than writers it seems.
Now, onto the competition that I did enter. The writing one. The kids section has a money prize of fifty dollars for the winner, so that would be cool to win. I mean, fifty dollars is quite a bit for me. I’ve never won that much in anything… Probably because I don’t ever enter contests. 😛
Wellll, anyways. Here’s my entry! I had a blast writing it, but the editing was a pain in the butt. *Shrugs and tosses arms into the air* Oh, and I guess this is the first time that I’ve shared an actual story of mine on here… In a LONG time. LOOOOTS of improvement since then.
Drawn by me in Photoshop CS3, please no stealing! And yes, I used my DeviantART username so that I can post it on dA too. 😉 Note to self: Learn cursive.
A feeble flame flickered in the dark room, biting back shadows that wavered near the edge of the light. A small, clay bottle sat on a desk, a stained hand dipping a crooked quill again and again into the ink until well past midnight.
The Scribe hunched over, his tired eyes squinting in the dim light, examining the day’s work. It kept him up for hours past what he appreciated, and made his hands ache. But complaining wouldn’t change anything; no one paid much attention to him. Etching out the last word in a scrawl that he hoped wasn’t too lazy, he lay down his quill. This book was finished and he could move on to the next.
“But not tonight,” he thought, stretching his arms over his head and massaging his hands. Finally he snuffed the lantern and made his way outside. The Scribe’s eyes soon adjusted to the dark as he walked down the trail to his shack. The sky was clear and a bright, full moon cast light across the grass and trees on either side of him. His eyes scanned the blanket of shimmering stars above, each one of them twinkling and glittering, making The Scribe smile.
He came to the end of the scrubby forest and stepped into a clearing. In the center stood his home; a small, wooden shack. He tumbled inside, hardly kicking off his shoes before he was snoring softly with a thin blanket bunched beneath his head.
***
This was an average night in the life of The Scribe. Day after day, night after night, he turned out pages of calligraphy. Book after book after book.
Sometimes he scribbled complaints in the margins of the volumes he scribed. Bits of his life hidden among the pages of history. No one ever said anything about these additions, and he suspected the other scribes did something similar.
Eventually the Scribe married and had children. They were his joy and would greet him at the end of long nights—assuming they were still awake. A lifetime passed, spent mostly at his desk, as both he and it grew more unsteady.
***
Wrinkled and balding, the now elderly figure sat at his desk. He sighed, setting his quill down. The most recent tome was finished, and he should start on the next. “But not tonight,” he thought, snuffing out the old lamp and feeling his way towards the door. The moon shone above him bright as ever, and he stared at the shimmering stars patterned across the sky. They danced in his blurred vision until his weary gaze dropped. With his coat wrapped around him and his lungs working hard to breathe the winter air, he shambled home.
Warm in bed, his heart slowing with every beat, he submitted to a well-earned rest.
***
The next day a new hand picked up the quill at the old desk.
A fresh sheet of parchment in front of him, The Scribe’s eldest son began to write.
Oh hey look, I’m actually posting post sooner than later. Could this be me breaking an age old habit? Probably not. 😛
Well, to today. Actually, no, let’s talk about last night first.
I’ve actually started to practice drawing people. Humans–or anything even vaguely humanoid in shape–have always been the bane of my existence as an artist. I am the aspiring werewolf artist, trying desperately to learn how to become a great or greater artist. (And by ‘desperately trying’, I really mean frolicking in my imagination, drawing made-up animals and robots. But close enough for now.) Most of my art is digital; worked from my wonderful tablet. But I also doodle and sketch a lot of drawings out on paper. Mostly when I’m out of the house, since I bring a bag full of art supplies (and usually whatever book I’m currently reading) with me everywhere I go. But other than simple sketches or doodles, I have very little experience with actual traditional art. And since I plan on entering an art contest at the local fair fairly soon (ohheylookapun) I need to start practicing. So now is a great time to start on those hoo-mans. 🙂
Unfortunately I don’t feel confident enough yet to post any human artwork on-line. So, erm, maybe later. 😉 But once I get better, maybe I can actually post decently drawn fan-art for human characters that I love! Especially childhood characters. Harry Potter, Bilbo, Lucy, (from ‘The Chronicles Of Narnia’) etc.
Now, fast-forward to the present day.
My mom and I went on a big cleaning/re-organizing spree. The subject being: my room. Well, if I’m to be more honest, my mom re-organized it. I just kind of helped out and put stuff that I didn’t want anymore/need into bags to give away. I’m sure most of you know the feeling. If you re-organize your room, you can stand back, nod, and think that it’s real nice. Until your mom walks in. Moms are critics. Vacuum, organize books, move dresser to a better place, consider moving bed, and don’t–I repeat DO NOT–forget about the closet. Just because you don’t look in it everyday, doesn’t mean it doesn’t count.
So maybe it’s kind of stressing to have my mom come through my room in a tidy tornado. But she helped me find a bunch of stuff that I had forgotten I even owned, get rid of stuff, and etc. It actually looks a lot better now. 😀 Oh! And she bought me a desk-lamp, which I REALLY appreciate because my ceiling fan is my light source. Which happens to be in the center of my room, giving off an obnoxious lighting that shadows my paper whenever I try to ‘real-life draw’. But that’s chaaaanged now! *Does a dork dance and pulls out a piece of paper and a stubby pencil*
And then we bought candy and went to see ‘Dolphin Tale 2’, so I have nothing to complain about. 8) Dolphin Tale 2 was really good. We went to see the first one a few years back, and I remember liking it. But this time I had teary-eyes that were threatening to explode with a rainstorm the whole time. It was just such a sweet movie! I recommend it to anyone who likes movies about animals, or just sweet stories in general.
And that’s all for now! Hopefully I’ll post again soon. 😉
Doodled by me, using Photoshop CS3. Please no stealing. 😉
Well, quite a few new things have happened. Such as our trip to Cape San Blas. And actually, I’ll just link to my mom’s post about that, because if I write about it I’ll take waaaay too long. (I’m trying to make my posts shorter and more interesting). But I will show you a couple of photos that I took with my camera that is-good-but-not-as-good-as-my-mom’s (probably because it’s a video camera). ;P
It may not be the best camera, but it has the waterproof thing going for it.
So, lately I’ve been (slowly) practicing Traditional Art painting. Now, for those who aren’t plugged into the Digital artist world, allow me to explain. Traditional Art is just “normal” art. Art off of the computer, done in the same way that people have been arting for centuries. Huuush, spellchecker. ‘Arting’ will be a word if I want it to be.
I don’t practice in the ways of “normal” art very often, sense my main focus is on my tablet. But my grandpa wants me to enter an art contest at the local fair, (which I’m kind of nervous about, having never really entered an art contest and my Traditional art is VERY questionable at the moment) so every once in awhile I bring out the paints and try to create something. Resulting in the below.
I was pretty happy with it until I got to the face. O___O I mean it IS a made-up creature… But still.
Other than that, loooots of little stuff has happened since my last blog post. I changed my signature to my actual name (or dA Username, sometimes) instead of the squished, messy initials that I was using for over a year. Turns out, a lot of people couldn’t tell that my squishy initials were my signature and, rather, kept trying to figure out what it was. xD
And I’ve been planning out a graphic novel for awhile now… I’m still writing out the plot and side-characters, but the two main characters are all but fully developed, and I managed to turn out the cover for the sometime-to-be-comic.
I also started to read book one of ‘Survivors’, by Erin Hunter because we finally took a trip to the library! *Does a happy dance* It’s really good so far. Surprisingly good, actually, because I wasn’t sure if I would like their books as much now that I’m older.
And now, draw up a chair, because it’s story time, children!
Once upon a time last Sunday, I went to a Youth Group. I had only been once before a few months ago, and I was–to be honest–pretty nervous. I can get along with adults of all ages and kids (although not really babies). But for some odd reason, walking into a building full of loud teenagers will immediately put me on edge. Upon walking into a room of people around my age, I have this self-conscious, awkward reaction: “I am not like these people. None of these people watch Doctor Who or grew up raving over books/Sci-Fi movies/shows. None of these people understand what being a Missionary Kid is like. I’m lost. Why did I come here? Would moving to a new country take me away from this, or would there be teens there too?” Mhmm. That’s me. The Missionary Kid counting all of the exists with wide-eyes and awkward movements as I walk in. Don’t get me wrong, I love people. But when in a group of teenagers, I start to act like one of those fainting goats.
So my dad drops me off at the church, and I walk through the doors, entering where I’ll be for the next two hours. Immediately through the crowd of teenagers laughing and lining up for food, an adult calls me over to a counter. He presents me with a sheet of paper where–at a quick glance–I see that I need to fill out my parents E-mails and all of that good information. I just assume that it’s for in case I get hurt or something, and I begin to sign it… Trying to hold my pencil the “normal” way rather than my usual monkey-handed way. Make way for messy-handwriting, but at least their first impression of me wasn’t a monkey. xP But sometime during that, he asks me a question.
Guy: “Are you *insert my dad’s name here* little sister?” My parents married really young, so I could see how that can be confusing. A lot of times people have asked me if my mom was my big sister. But somehow the question still surprised me. And so nervous and confused, I quickly stuttered out some words that I’ll probably never forget.
“No! I’m his little brother!”
Oh. Wait. It took me a few seconds of him staring at me, bewildered, for me finally realize what words had actually just come out of my mouth. I start to stumble over my words to make up for it. “Wh-what the heck?! Sorry I mean I’m his DAUGHTER. His DAUGHTER. I have brothers–three brothers, all younger–and my dad has a brother–younger–and I guess I just got confused. Because of brothers. And no I’m not… Yeah…” *Fills out the rest of the paper while the guy just kind of laughs*
At the time, I was shocked and kind of horrified about the words that had come out of my mouth. But as I got into the line for food and headed into the dining area with the rest of the kids, I started to calm down. And then I realized just how FUNNY it was. So I kept laughing for the rest of the night, every time I remembered what I’d said.
And you know what? I had a great time. And I’m STILL laughing over that. 🙂
So as you may remember, my family and I have been somewhere for a few weeks. About the length of a month. And my, how it’s flown by… Sluggishly? Weirdly, it felt pretty slow while here. But looking back on it, it feels like it all flew by. We arrived, settled into our apartment, met new people, my brothers/parents went to classes, I was given a class halfway through, etc.
I joined a program for teenagers who were learning Leadership skills by helping out with kids. We met every other weekday, until a week ago when the program ended for the Summer. I actually jumped into it in the middle of the program, so I missed the whole first part of the training. But while I was there, I learned and had fun. Our leader (should I call her a mentor so it’s less confusing?) was nice, and fun/funny. I got a teensy bit better at speaking in front of crowds because I had to get up and explain games every now and then. And because I had to prepare and give a short lesson in front of all the kids. Let’s go into more detail on that, actually…
So I was told that I had to get up on a little stage in front of a crowd of children and give a lesson. A bible story, really. The lesson would only last a few minutes, but I would have to prepare it myself and tell it myself. In front of kids. Kids are people. Groups of people make crowds. I don’t like being the center of attention in crowds. Using my amazing logic and deduction skills (which I have acquired over many hours of watching BBC’s ‘Sherlock’) I immediately knew that this was not going to be good.
I panic, I try to think of a lesson. I quickly find a lesson that I myself am actually interested in (The Parable of Talents) and tell my fellow leaders that I’ll try to do it. I have time to prepare… But I don’t. I draw a scribbly picture to go with the lesson, and I go to bed thinking that I’m ready. I was worried, and panicking so badly that I had a dream about it. I dreamed that my lesson was about the Titanic, I had a Powerpoint playing some song about a ship sinking (which is a real song, but I don’t know the name of it) and then a song about chocolate rain (probably inspired by Tay Zonday’s ‘Chocolate Rain’). In the dream everything went well. But when I woke up the next morning, I realized how little I had prepared… Commence the panicking.
Scurrying around doing this doing that, blahblahblah, until I got to leader-training. The leaders went through their usual morning routine of preparing games for the day, talking, praying, etc. And I panicked the whole time. My fellow leaders told me not to panic, and said that all of their lessons had been REALLY corny, but the kids don’t ever notice. But that didn’t stop me.
FINALLY, the time came. I walked shakily–and what I was sure looked dorkily–up onto the stage with my little hand-bag full of art supplies. I waited awkwardly for the mass of children in front of me to settle down, and then I finally spoke. “So–uh–today we–um–I have a–well a–a bible story.” One older girl in the front row rolled her eyes to her friend, and I got kind of snappy. Staring right at them, saying. “Yes, of course.”
And I unsteadily launched into the lesson, with much stuttering, many ‘ums’ and just as many ‘uhs’. Finally I finished, they clapped, and I stumbled off of the stage–getting my bag along the way–and walk-stumbling in a daze to the back of the crowd where I could sit down and let someone else take the lead. I remember every minute of this very clearly, because I was terrified.
After that my fellow leaders (and mentor, as we’ll call her) actually said that I did really well! They said that my lesson turned out better than theirs had. And, well, that did make me feel pretty darn good. But it didn’t stop me from trembling for about twenty minutes after that. xD
WOW. That’s a good sized blog post right there, but I still have more to say. ;P
While here, we’ve been training for going to South Asia. And by training, I mean stuff like researching Asia and learning how to deal with culture shock. Good, stressful stuff like that. Not the researching part, but the other part. I liked researching about Asia, decorating poster boards with papers that I’d written, etc. I even painted an Asian-styled painting based off of an actual Asian painting that I found on Google images.
Painted by me, DO NOT steal.
The classes were very stressful for me at first, though. I had two teachers. One main teacher, who was a woman. And another teacher, who was a man. Both teachers were there at the same time, but at first, the classes with the man were really frustrating and emotional. It was class meant for a group of teenagers, but I was the only one here this year. So I had to answer each one of the questions, mull them all over, actually pay good attention, etc. I was the whole class. And these were hard, emotional, questions. I did cry. But after that first week of classes, everything started heading uphill. 🙂
And now we skip ahead to today. I’ve been preparing a presentation with my teacher. Researching, writing papers, painting, etc. We bought food to make Asian food, and today that’s exactly what we did. In the kitchen at the big building where I’ve been having classes and stuff, we made Indian food. Butter Chicken, Naan (we bought the Naan), and Darjeeling tea. All of which turned out great! 😀
My teacher brought a sari (a traditional piece of South Asian clothing) for me to wear and a punjabi for herself. She helped me wrap up in the sari (which is just a BIIIG piece of cloth that you wrap up in and tuck in different places and try not to make it fall off).
Me wearing that sari. :3
We made the food, and went over my presentation a few times. I tried hard to actually sound good, and not fake (which I was doing REALLY badly at first). And then the time came for me to present.
My parents, brothers, my other teacher, my new friend’s (the one I went on a sleepover with in my last post) dad, and another lady were all there. And my normal teacher and I. I sat on the floor in between the two decorated poster-boards plastered with papers, and I began to present. I had to look back at the papers a lot, sometimes I talked too fast for them too understand me, and sometimes I talked too quietly. But while I was talking, my teacher brought in the tea and food. When I finished, the real fun began.
Because we might have put a few challenges in there. You know… For fun. The men were served first (as is typical in Asian culture), everyone sat on the floor, no one let the soles of of their feet point towards another person (which is very rude in Southern Asia) and everyone ate with their Right hand only. Because–um–the Left hand is unclean. I’ll let you Google why.
It was super fun, and the food was good, and everyone liked it! My other teacher (man one) said that I actually did better than the previous students.
Commence the happiness explosion.
Oh yeah, but we’re leaving on Saturday. So… Packing. O___O
Also there are actual artists here in my hometown. A lot more than writers it seems.
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