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I’m sitting outside trying to catch the last of the suns rays. I want to sit and breath in the moment. It is the second of many moments to come when I will be caught of guard as I prepare for the next leg of my adventure. I want to make sure these moments are captured, that this part of the story isn’t forgotten.

In preparation for Germany, I have begun the process of sifting through the Studio. The Studio is, at the same time, the most superfluous and essential part of who I am in our household. I thought by using a treasured item to carry the remnants with me, it would make the process easier. At the very least, fixing up the apothecary’s box would at least make the process more blog worthy. Once again I have expected the shiny to cover an old wound.

I realized as I was wandering from locker and box and shelf, trying to decide what it is I need to take with me, what items are essentials I need in order to pursue my craft on another continent that I don’t want to do this. Somewhere in the back of my mind and heart there is a ragamuffin girl with paint on her hands who is stamping her feet.

Please don’t misunderstand me, I want to go to Germany. That same little girl has been staring at the horizon for some time; this journey is twenty years of dreams, hopes and prayers in the making. I just didn’t want to be going like this.

Three years ago, I had a very different idea of what going to Germany was going to look like. Back then it meant I had trained someone up to replace me at the Studio. It meant leaving a creative impression on my community. It meant knowing it would be here when I got back.

Going to Germany wasn’t suppose to be sorting through dusty sketchbooks again, trying to figure out how to price them to sell. It wasn’t piecemealing the elements of the studio which the Lady and I s carefully put together. It definitely wasn’t having the lie that I am a failure packed into my carry on.

I’m not sure why this is all coming out now. It’s been a year since we closed the Studio, and there are still many months before I depart. I would venture to guess that like the left over inventory, I have been shoving all these feelings into a place much too small, everything is piled too high and there is no order. Feelings carelessly left on the floor are tripping me up, like the stacks of dusty sketch books.

I’m glad it is coming up though. I have to be willing to let these things go and par my tools down to just the essentials for my soul and craft as I prepare to go. 

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. Hebrews 12:1

Continuing the adventure,

Jess

I’ve written here and here about failure. It is an essential part of life with which I am well aquainted, and often well tethered. There are days when I feel like I drag my failures behind me like ghostly shakels, their clanging only heard by my ears.

So imagine the freedom I felt when I heard Sean Carraso tell a group of the worlds best and brightest, “Fail.”

“Fail” he said, “and then fail again. When you are all done failing. Go and fail some more. If you’re not failing, then you’re not outside of your element and you are not growing. So fail.”

I could hear the click as my shackels unlocked. These failures of mine will no longer bind me. I don’t need to face them with a downward glance, or to pretend they aren’t there. They should be celebrated, because if I have failed than I have done something which many people never will.

I tried.

So here’s to a new perspective and a wish for my future:I hope to fail, on an epic scale.

Beacuse someday I’ll succeed, and that will be an adventure worth telling about.

Continuing the adventure,

Jess

Picutre Taken from Amrit Williams Blog

I have learned, through much trial and error and many adjustments of focus, that my purpose is to be a sotryteller. It is who I am.

On Monday I had the privilege to spend the day in a room with some of the best and brightest of Non-Profit and For-Profit organizations. It was terrifying and exciting at the same time; an emotional cocktail I am becoming more and more familiar with as I prusue my role of storyteller.

A common thread throughout the day was colored with the power of stories. Nancy Foster, the First Lady of Long Beach, shared her story of making a difference in her community by speaking out about her own battles with mental illness and depression. Jeff Shinabarger shared his story of using excess to address social needs. Rob Morris shared the story of the moment he realized he never again wanted to be a bystander. Chris Heuertz emphasied the importance of how we tell stories; inspiring a shift in language so the stories we tell will give dignity to their players. Sean Carasso opened our eyes to the stories of children which will not be told unless we are brave enough to tell them.

All around me there were confirmations of something I have learned to hold tightly to: stories are important. 

There will be much to process in the coming days as I once again examine the refraction of my soul, turning the knobs and levers of my life to gain focus on how to live the life of a storyteller.

Continuing the Adventure, 

Jess

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