Sun Buzzed

A billion degrees, the thermometer said today. And the day before. And the day before. So when I'm at the beach watching sweat-slicked teenagers pull damp t-shirts from their skin like wrappers off a fruit roll-up, and they're drinking Pepsi and tying their hair up and painfully smiling through We're-all-gonna-die-on-this-sand expressions, I'm thinking "Oh my God, these people are crazy. Who would go out in this heat?" Until I realize I'm here too, so that makes us all a little sun buzzed.

A thick stew of heat and humidity, the air has been uncomfortably stagnant. Running in this heat actually sounds like relief because at least the motion would provide some kind of air current. Instead, we join kids with red cheeks and sticky foreheads and settle for tanktops and shorts.

We join forces with nature for an afternoon heat compromise of ice cream and cooling storms.

The day did not get a rolling start this morning. Rather it sort of stumbled and then stopped.

But I won't go down without a fight. I refuse to condemn a perfectly good Monday as "one of those days" before noon 5.

I don't think being happy and the number of good days we have is so much governed by genetic disposition as it is creativity--developing new possibilities and alternatives to deal with real problems. And really, creativity in its artistic form--painting, decorating, writing, singing, sculpting--it's all the same. We create something good when there's a need. When there's a blank canvas or maybe just an ugly one that needs repainting.

I repainted my ugly canvas today, rifling through nearby resources kind of like digging through a junk drawer for spare paint brushes. You use what you have, and I had a sister and a beautiful, albeit hot, day. We walked, slowly reversing the day's tone with each step. We stopped by Wendy's and the person who took our order gave us a free frosty. And a solicitor told us "Hey girls, remember: Hakuna Matata."

Hakuna Matata indeed.

I don't push creativity on the people I know because I want them to be interesting or because I want them to have something great to tell people at a party someday. When I praise my friends after they tell me something that they did or came up with, it isn't because I think it makes them stand out as unique and awesome (even though it does).

I celebrate creativity and applaud imagination in people I care about mostly because the ability to create something new--to dream up a different way of doing something--means they are more guaranteed to find happiness in life.

The more they create and practice building something from nothing or changing not-so-great into amazing, the more likely they are to use creative strategies to develop solutions to challenges in their lives. They will find joy, and they'll do it with words and colors and paintbrushes and voices and journals and music.

If what you seek doesn't exist, create it. In art. In life.

This week, in art:

Abby (dressed in lace)

 

She's pretty, pretty, pretty.

 

 

This week, in life:

 

 

Raegen

 

My sister Stephanie is pregnant. This is her second kid, and apparently being pregnant prompts trips across the country to live with us again, starting in September. Yay. (I know that yay doesn't depict much excitement, but I am so excited that I'm always in danger of fainting)

 



Hello Raegen.

Sunny Monday to you.

Brooke

Sometimes I have great intentions. And my intentions were to post this 2 weeks ago, but alas, I hardly ever manage to get on a computer. Like, a computer. Not a mobile device.

So two and a half weeks ago, I decided to freak the freak out all to meet someone I've never met before. And, as passionate as I was to get this all happening--capslocking Brooke for not telling me she'd be in my city, demanding that we meet--about half an hour before our meeting time, I went white-knuckled. It dawned on me that I was going to be spending a few hours with someone I've never really physically connected with. What if, in the first 10 minutes, it was a total bust and I wanted to go home? What if we bored each other and I dragged her down to our beach for nothing? What if this was a blind friend date gone wrong? What if she was... crazy? You never know.

Half an hour later, my fears diminished as Savanna and I walked toward the pier and saw her standing there waiting for us. Her hair was down straight and she had sunglasses and a cardigan and her family, distinguishing her as the girl I had come to love through words and tweets.

And we walked down the pier and connected over bagels and hot chocolate and most likely annoyed every person in that restaurant with the amount of selfies we took. And then we went to walmart and searched for cute worker (mission failed, but still fun). And I provoked a girl and was threatened, but that's whatever.

It's amazing how much didn't surprise me about her. She is simply a beautiful person with a beautiful soul.

So thanks, Brooke, for eating breakfast with us over the ocean and for this purposeful adventure. I love you very much.