We Create Here-Cedar Rapids, Who Knew?

This week I had the opportunity to write for a blog linked to my city's paper that focuses on community, called "We Create Here". Here is a post on how my impressions of my hometown have changed as I've grown up. 

http://www.wecreatehere.net/2015/01/19/guest-post-cedar-rapids-knew/

What Fuels People

According to NASA, each of the two Solid Rocket Boosters on a rocket use more than one million pounds of solids propellant.

According to worldwatch.org, the world's planes use 205 million tons of kerosene fuel each year, and on short flights, 25% of that fuel is used just to take off.

According to the U.S. Energy Information Administration, in the year 2013, the United States consumed 134.51 billion gallons of gasoline, which is average of 368.51 million gallons daily.

But what fuels people?

Food, of course. Bread is one of my personal favorites. But that is a bit too literal of a point to make.

I want to know what fuels people. What keeps us going? Why do we wake up every morning to go through the all too grueling task of ripping ourselves out of bed, smelling decent, and heading off to work or school or whatever monotonous routine our days are composed of? Well I'll tell ya, it's not for the carbs.

I think our source of fuel, our weapon against the mediocre, is like a target, composed of three rings.

There is an outer ring,the largest in circumference, that is like fuel from the world. It's your paycheck, it's your vacation days, it's your happy hour. It's all the material things. The things that we mention when we're feeling stressed. “Boy, I could use a glass of wine” or “Man I really need a vacation”. My outer ring, for example, is three hours of “Friends” and a bag of sour gummy worms.

The middle ring, sitting snug between the material world and the bullseye, is like fuel from people. It's a complement in passing, it's a call from your mom, it's a night out with your best friends. It's the people that don't make you want to set your textbooks on fire, or in some cases, it's the people that will help you do it. Your friends, your family, even just the goofy classmate that makes you smile, are matter of the middle ring.

The center, the circle, the bullseye, is of course representative of the fuel from yourself. It's uncommon, it's underestimated, it's a unicorn of a thing, really. We scarcely give ourselves enough credit, and we scarcely give ourselves enough praise. We think that the pat on the back we give ourselves doesn't mean anything, but I'm telling you, it means the most. The two outer rings can dissolve in an instant, and the only source of fuel you will always carry with you, in your innate sense of drive, and passion, and self worth.

 Whether it is the little things, the little people, or the little voice inside your head, people are ultimately fueled by the world around them. If there is tragedy, there is the fuel of recovery. If there is happiness, there is the fuel of fellowship. We always know there is more. We will always have the desire to pry ourselves out of bed and pursue that-our world, our people, and ourselves will be our fuel.

Photo creds here and here

Sisters and Siblings and Family

My sister, is currently wearing suspenders with her pajama pants.

My sister, eats approximately 3 bananas a day, drizzled with honey and cinnamon.

My sister, asked for organizational units for Christmas.

My sister, is a weirdo.

       But you see, that's the thing about family. Do you think she would ever wear suspenders to school? Do you think see would ever ask her friends for a sock drawer organizer for her birthday? No. She would not. Because there are certain things about ourselves that we all deem unfit for the public eye. Your family however, doesn't count.

       So here is a brief appreciation post for my sister, because we can be weird, and we can scream at each other, and we be best friends. We live together. We've experienced ups and downs together. We are drawn up from the same gene pool. No matter how different we may look, I promise we are sisters, for more reasons than a shared set of parents.

 Here's to Maci, and sisters, and siblings, and families everywhere. You're a real treasure.

Five Reasons to Get Pumped About Poetry

If you ever find yourself in a high school language arts class, and the teacher says they will be starting a unit on poetry, you can expect a chorus of groaning, with the same confidence that you would take in expecting that the sky is blue and that the sun will rise. The thing about poetry is, it looks easy, and in some regards, it is. But the other thing about poetry, is that is does take a bit of work to understand. However, the point of poetry is not to understand at all. The point, is to be moved. However, our society is one troubled with the question of “why?”, and there lies the challenge in poetry-the reason teenagers always seems to resent it.
So why do people like this stuff? It's hard to understand, and can make you cry-why even bother? Well, I'll put it simply. Here are three reasons to get pumped about poetry. 

1) It's a form of expression.
Humans feel a lot of feels, and think a lot of thinks, and to keep those all inside is such a chore. Getting those out, be it on paper, or the stage, or by means of your very own vocal chords, is a treasure to witness. It doesn't matter if it's quality. The desire to express one's self is universal, and taking in others' forms of expression is what helps to connect us all.

2) It forces you to feel.

Poetry, when well written, stirs up images and sounds to evoke some sort of emotion from the audience. Whether you enjoy being in touch with your emotions or not, it's important that you are on some level. Too often, life becomes a routine, very distant from the definition we've assigned to that word. It's important to not feel like a robot, and it's important to know the ups and downs of life, whether you experience them on the street or in the stanzas of a well written poem.

3) It sends a message.
The hidden messages in poetry that we strain our minds to seek out and understand, often send the strongest message. Say that I, a sixteen year old girl, am reading a poem about an affair. I'm not going to understand right off the bat that that's what the poem is even about. But if I were to read a poem about stress, the message would ring loud in my ears. I don't need to hear about an affair-that's not relevant in my life. Stress, however, is very relevant, and while I find it hiding in the creases of my brain, I find it hiding among the metaphors and line breaks of a poem.

4) It forces you to think
While this might be the most undesirable trait of poetry, it is certainly an admirable one. Anything that forces you to reflect, is to be both despised and desired. Despised, because our lazy human nature insists that we don't put forth the effort to go deeper than the surface. Desired, because we all need leashes for our thoughts. With nothing meaningful to ponder, our minds drift off the most absurd places, but with something like a poem there to trigger reflection, we may grow in our thought.


5) It's fun.
While poetry can be deep and thoughtful, and can also be whimsical and light, or a balance of both. It can inspire, and elate, and mourn, and sadden. It is this diversity that makes poetry so beautiful.

Do Your Shit

       Today, I heard quite possibly the most inspiring words of my life:

       “Do your shit.”

       These were the wise words of a college student who graduated from my high school, and ran photography club when I was a freshman. She spoke with me and some other photo clubbers first about a technique for exposing film without a dark room, and then, about our futures. Basically, she told us to be creative and pursue what we love. She told us to be free, and explore, and take risks. She told us to do our own thing, and that as long as we can get back on track, our mistakes won't really matter. Most importantly though, she told us, “DO YOUR SHIT”.

       So what is my shit? And how do you find yours?

       Step one: Find something you think is just sorta cool.

       Step two: Do it.

       Step three: Do it differently than the guy next to you.

       I think music is sort of cool. For years, I did it, taking private lessons, developing technique, and playing in large ensembles. Now, I play in a string quartet with a beat boxer. That's my shit. I'm doing that.

       I think writing is sort of cool. For years, I've done it, taking creative writing courses, analyzing style, and attempting to emulate it. Now, I'm not completely sure how to make it my shit. I'm not completely sure how to do it differently from the next guy. But that's the whole point. Now I get to do it. I get to pursue it. I get to take risks and explore and be inspired, and I get to be free in what I choose to do with my love.

       I just feel incredibly inspired to do something. Not only to do something, but to do something creative and meaningful. Something that allows me to connect with people, and hear their stories, like the Dear World Project.

       So how do you do that? You get out and try something crazy. The Dear World Project started because some guy asked people to write on themselves a love note to their city that had been destroyed by a hurricane. Meet people and do weird stuff. Be creative and free, and mindful of the world in such a way that you reflect all it's beauty in your own eyes. Do. Your. Shit.

A Breath of Fresh Air

       Well it seems that for the billionth time in my life, I have put off an assignment until the last minute. Yes, I am going to be blunt: I have put off writing both my required, 400 word blog posts, until the very night that they are due. I have exactly three hours to complete them. Let's start the clock.

       Because I have succumbed to my irresponsible teenage nature, I feel I must also muster up an excuse. This week I've been writing an absolute bear; a post for a blog that is not mine. The idea of writing for a foreign audience outside of my domain made me really nervous, so much so, that I re wrote the darn thing three times. That's not revision folks. I completely started from scratch three times.

       Ps. That is a shitty way to go about writing.

       However, the combination of my new and nerve wracking experience, as well as my procrastination, has made me realize something really valuable:

       I really love to write.

       Racing to write 800 words isn't stressful for me. The fact that I have to write it all in three hours, doesn't phase me either. Among the piles and piles of homework I receive, primarily AP US History, blogging is a breath of fresh air.

       In high school, all the classes you hate are required, and it makes it hard to discover your passions. Then, when you do discover what you love, the unnecessary busy work from all your other classes makes it hard to pursue that passion.

       Ray Bradbury says this of writing, and I think it applies to the pursuit of anything you love:

 “You must write every single day of your life. You must lurk in libraries and climb the stacks like ladders to sniff books like perfumes and wear books like hats upon your crazy heads. May you be in love for the next 20,000 days. And out of that love, remake a world.”

       In my blogs, I may not have the opportunity to remake worlds. In my homework drowned life, I may not have time to write every single day. But in my blogs, a small part of what I love doing is achieved. I get to write, plain and simple. To me, that is the most satisfying and freeing assignment I could ever receive. 

Caroling in Review

       The Spontaneous Caroling event that my team and me for Music Meetup at Iowa BIG, you know, the one I mentioned last week? Went pretty darn well. Of course, I'm keeping a few things in consideration when I say it went well:

A) It was our first time EVER planning an event

B) Thanksgiving Break

C) Marketing?

D) Surprise grand piano

       The design of the event was what I thought would be the hardest part, but as it turned out, it's a lot easier to bake a cake than it is to get people to buy it. Now, we weren't selling anything besides a bit of holiday cheer, but getting people to come to an event, is a real struggle, especially when you're sixteen and hardly know the meaning of the word marketing.

       Our approach, was basically just the distribution of this informational card we made, physically and electronically. To some extent, that was successful; success being defined as seven people attending that were not directly invited by any of my team members or me. But still, what even is marketing? How do you promote an event? That's the beauty of BIG, though: we get to learn.

       Also, our “failure” to market “purposefully” was partly due to the fact that Thanksgiving break fell about two weeks before our event. That meant that when we should have been out promoting, we were all on break. But get this: IT IS OKAY TO TAKE A BREAK. That's just the way it worked out.

       Our “failure” to market more “purposefully” actually worked to our benefit when it came to the actual performance. I'll tell you why: surprise, grand, piano. The space where we intended to perform was half taken up by a grand piano that we discovered the morning of the event. If we would have had more people come, there is no way we would have fit. Our group filled up the area like a bucket brimming with water, which gave the appearance that we were a much bigger group than we actually were (there were actually about 20 of us).

       In the end, it wasn't embarrassingly unsuccessful, but there were enough parts of the event that weren't quite right, to give us something to build on. It was the perfect start, and now our next steps are clear. We need more time to plan, more effective marketing strategies, and of course lay the ground work for the design of our next event. There is plenty to learn, and with the solid look into event planning that Spontaneous Caroling gave us, our next event will only be an improvement. 

ALSO: Shout out to our accordion player, Neil. He brought the party.