Journal writings

Celebrating National Cheese Day with Memories from Paris

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Have you ever dreamed of traveling? Where was your first international destination? Before I was able to do so financially, I dreamt for years of going to Paris. What sealed it for me was after I saw the movie “Amelie”. A single girl living her life, accordion music, old architecture, popping in somewhere quickly to down a glass of wine. All of the streets to explore, all the food to try, the gorgeous language. I couldn’t wait to experience the people myself. It just seemed like the perfect city for me for my first European travel. I saved my money, (it took years) and I booked my ticket for October of 2014 for about 10 days. And, I went alone because I had to, to prove to myself that I could walk around this world and be safe and I was, that I could be autonomous, and do what I wanted when I wanted. It showed me how capable I am, how lovely human beings can be, how helpful and hilarious, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I won’t lie to you, I had a few crying jags. I was mentally exhausted after a week of thinking in English and working so hard for those thoughts to come out of my mouth in French so I cried. And then I went out and had one of the best meals of my stay.

My first venture out I got lost and picked a small bistro to get my bearings and eat something since I was starving. This sweet establishment had the kindest waitress that spoke English with me which I needed in that moment of jetlag and exhaustion. I really appreciated her thoughtfulness. She told me how much she loved her job because she got to meet people from all over the world, nice people like me. That touched my heart so much I still think about her and I hope she is doing well. I can’t find the name of this place which has driven me crazy all these years. However, I did think to snap a photo before I devored everything and this is what I ordered:

charcuterie, wine, and a respite

My first French meal, a nice charcuterie board with four cheeses, four meats, cornishon, baguette, greens, and yes, a slab of butter. That round cheese was super skunky and I had a hard time downing it. My red wine went very well with everything. Delicious.

After I left this cozy place, I wandered around trying to find my street and thoroughly enjoying the process. As I snapped photos I found a restaurant I made sure to remember for another meal during my stay. The calm din of French voices filled every corner on my walk. Peaceful, relaxing. People enjoying the night air with drinks and food and their friends. I thought, why don’t we do this in the US? These pics were taken somewhere on Rue Montorgueil.

From this angle you can see how shiny the stones are in their various patterns. When I turned around, this beautiful store window greeted me:

I think that is candied fruit on the middle half circles. Yum. I did not shop here. I wish I had.

The variety of cheeses made me say, “Wow”, out loud. I wish I had tried more kinds, but my focus was visiting museums and just enjoying whatever I came across. The entire city is an undiscovered treasure to me and I can go back again and again.

Eating in after a full day at the Louvre: leftover meats and cheese with a fresh baguette and Bordeaux. I gave up trying to eat the stinky one and let it go. I still feel a little guilty about wasting food in Paris, but when I remember how funky the smell was, I’m good. 😀

the glorious croque monsieur

After Mass at Notre Dame,I ordered this cheese covered glory with ‘un cafe’, grabbed a table outside and devoured this exquisite sandwich. I swear, I was the only person eating on the entire street. I’ve made these at home and there is nothing like melted, crunchy cheese on the outside of your American “grilled cheese”. Monsieur Croque, je taime. 🙂 Recipe here: Easy, Cheesy Croque Monsieur Recipe | Jacques Pepin

The author enjoying her first cheesy Croque Monsieur.

It has taken me nine years to share my Paris trip with anyone. In 2024, I promise myself I will spend time in the past looking at, creating art from, and remembering as many wonderful experiences as I can to share with you. I hope it gives you some dreams you would like to make come true, too. You can go anywhere and do anything you set your mind to. I’m living proof. Until next time, keep dreaming. xo

One of my last evenings in Paris at the Eiffel Tower. I didn’t know it was painted brown until I got close to it. The night time light show is insane.

My Love-Hate Relationship with Social Media

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An Ocean of Reactions and Judgments

Red, ferocious anger blob blob blob. Too much going on. Too much to process. Dopamine addict. What’s next?

What’s next? New!! New!! Shock me!! Piss me off. Swim around scroll scroll scroll. Swipe. Like. Heart. Tweet. It NEVER ends. There is so much I’m angry about So. Much. So much that I can’t do anything about. So much that has nothing to do with me.

The Ocean of Occurrences is too vast to process. Too much water to swim through. Why do I dive in? I’m curious. I see Fish of Hatred. Eels of Judgment. Sharks of Crime dart around. Show me quick glimpses of things that happen. I don’t even need the full story. Then, I react. Then, I feel depleted. WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF? It feels like the world is going to hell in a handbasket and we are all going down with the ship.

the red blob devouring my dopamine mind
Red Blue surface pattern design

So, I stop looking beneath the water level, put on my life jacket and tell myself every is fine. And I paint the blob. And I write these words.

Shocking things, gossipy things, political things. I’m sharing what’s in there, inside me. Can you stop your own Dopamine scroll to really read and see what I’m doing? Will you? Join me onboard. Let’s sit in the breeze with the sun kissing our hair and be amazed at the open blue.

xo -Ang

This year, Death

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So much death. Not even just physical death, but emotional death, relationship death. Death of dreams. Dreams that will never be. Hope Death. I hoped it would go a certain way. And it didn’t. So, I walk around the (city) asking why; grieving. Feeling sorry for myself. Looking for a resolution, like it’s written on paper, crumpled up and tossed in a dirty street corner. I’ll look and then I’ll find it. I’ll stoop down to pick it up, unwrinkle it and wish beyond the earth it will have an answer. a clue. I can’t find the answer beyond my heart and head. Sometimes I want to control everything. And I can’t. So, I keep walking and searching and sighing.

2021 Theme for My Year

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I tried Resolutions. They don’t work for me. I felt like a failure because of that for a long time. Then I gave myself a break and decided I can change and do new things and create new habits any day of the year. It is about Intention for me. That felt a whole lot better.

This year I was inspired by someone else’s idea to come up with a theme for the year. I sat quietly for a bit and this is what came to me:

Quiet Persistence. Could become a seasonal theme…

I invite you over to my Patreon page so you can join me in creating a community around de-stigmatizing mental health, understanding my white privilege, and deconstructing colonialism and sharing my artistic process around it. 2020 had me delving deep into my own self and as scary as it was, I discovered gems I couldn’t have mined any other way. It is sacred work and vulnerable work. I have public and Patron only content. Be well, take care of yourself, and know you are Loved Beyond Measure. Happy New Year. -Ang xo

Debilitating stuckness and How I Worked Through It

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VPH Design Part Four: My Surface Pattern Design Guide.

Session two was great. I got valuable feedback and started sketching more designs of cupcakes, ice cream, and adding embellishments to come up with a collection. I referred to my mood board, but was frustrated with not being able to create easily. My direction was to loosen up and think differently.

how to learn surface pattern design tutorial
Maybe this is a border or stripe?

I was on the verge of tears before our next appointment. I hadn’t made good progress, wasn’t having fun, and was feeling defeated. We decided the best thing to do was to postpone meeting until the next week to give myself a chance to process what was going on. I was feeling very blocked and ready to give up.

how to surface pattern design learn to draw
Working the initial design with cut outs and color. I didn’t get very far.

Then, I grabbed some paper and started painting with pastel and water. I didn’t think; I let myself select the color that I felt most drawn to in that moment and began. I started with a wall. Tall. Brown. Blocking me. Why are you so tall? What are you keeping me from seeing?

how to learn to paint surface pattern design
Note progression from 1 to 3. Made over several sessions and days.

The next piece of paper started with a pinky orange background and spikey knarly plant life. Poking me. Cutting me. Cutting me off. What are you guarding?

how to learn surface pattern design
Note progression from 1 to 3. Made over several sessions and days.

In three separate sessions over that next week, I painted two different scenes. I decided to take photos to track the changes and see how they developed. I kept working them, adding color, scrubbing, and I started to see outdoor landscapes in them. Something occurred to me, when watercolor painting, I have always created ethereal, colorful backgrounds. Always. Sometimes I would add words, sometimes I would paint fantasy flowers and plants. But, I noticed I always, always, start with the sky. And sometimes that sky ends up being under the sea.

With my cut paper art, I make architecture; houses and buildings. Sometimes still existing, sometimes recreating demolished buildings from photographs. Now, with this new adventure in Surface Design, here I was trying to only paint. The wall I had put up between paint and paper mediums wasn’t going to stand anymore. I couldn’t keep them apart. I had to demolish this self imposed wall; I had to tear it down. Why did I think I couldn’t put cut paper on my paintings? I don’t know, but I cried. I cried like a little kid who has been told No over and over, but still really wanted the thing, or to do the thing and could not, or was not allowed to. I cried because I get to do this thing now, this thing of putting paint and cut paper together for my art. And I cried for the lost time. And then something new started to happen. I started to twirl my paper.

learn surface pattern design quilling
First swirls of paper color. Cute!

Next post; paper quilling appears in my life.

Flourish Surface Design Challenges 2020

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I joined Bonnie Christine’s Flourish community back in April, see my post here: and one of the ways she encourages us to flex our design muscles and implement what we are learning is to submit a design for each months’ challenge. May was my first submission. The prompt was to create a design inspired by someone in my life. Of course, I had a lot of ideas, but I had had a few conversations with my mom and we rehashed some situations in my childhood when she showed up like the Tiger Momma she is. Bullying, being sexually harassed in junior high. When I needed an adult to have my back, she was the one who did. Her heart is as big as the ocean for her family. For easier printing, I shrunk it down to heart-size.

Initial sketch on paper with colored pencil, left. Finished design after working on in Photoshop, right.

This design is available as a sticker now! Purchase it in my shop here. I’m offering free shipping!

Sticker design with purple background

It feels good to have an idea and follow through to its completion. It is very challenging to come up with a design every month, but I’m going to keep at it. xo

Fascist Pickles

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I ate the pickles you made today in your fascist kitchen, your fascist house. You might be a fascist if you think I don’t have a right to my own body. It’s none of your fucking business what I decide to put into it. You might be a fascist if you listen to pondets say I am citing a civil war because I have democratic ideals. You might be a fascist if you think what I believe is evil. Here’s what I believe: I believe I don’t have any right to try and change your mind. You are entitled to your beliefs, but please make sure you have facts and not just blah blah rhetoric to back you up.

I know what the church did to you. It made you believe you can judge people, that your way is the “right” way. Would Jesus let children be separated from their parents? Would he?

Would Jesus defend hate speech? Would he? Did he? Would he stand in front of a crowd of people and say things to make you hate others? You might be a fascist if think so. The double standard is right in our faces now. Girls have always had to worry about their bodily safety. Always. Now that your son has to worry about his own behaviour is actually a good thing. Maybe if he didn’t believe he’s entitled to take whatever he wants from a girl, he wouldn’t have to worry. 

If you think you have more of a say over what I do with my body than I do, you might be a Fascist. If you think you are better than others, you might be a Fascist. If you are afraid of people who don’t look like you, you might be a Fascist.

She is…

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She is a very pretty girl. I think her life is perfect. But, it is not. She carries pain and wounds unseen by us. Disappointment sits beside her, gently whispering, “It doesn’t matter. It will never happen.” And she listens. She listens too much. And her heart breaks every day with every broken promise. So, the tears flow, down the crevices and dips of her cheeks, splashing on her hands and feet. And she is left with sorrow and glittered tears under her finger nails.

What now?

Sadness.

There is so much sadness. Tears and salt. Sniffles and streaks. The river begins in her eyes. It trickles at first. Then gains speed with her wails and weeping. The flood gates are opened and the rushing torrent knocks all around her off their feet. They are swept away by her sorrow. No one can stop it. The flood waters reach the highest point and no one is safe. It washes all of it away. There is nothing left…well, not nothing, just fish bait.

 

Water

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When you tell me I have no passion, my heart breaks a little. Because, you do not see it. I am not a rain torrent. Nor am I the ferocious sea with wave after wave of destruction and noise. No, I am the tear drop, A slow, constant drip on the stone that will wear it down after time. My soft release and small splash will slowly erode the earth. But you will not see it. I am not a fire, raging through and gutting everything around me. No, but my passion simmers in my belly, every day. You just do not see it. I do not scream it from the mountain tops. I do not demand the attention of the billions with a shouting voice. No, I whisper it in on the breeze while you sleep and it is heard by the reeds along the river. It is carried by the wind over walls into places that need to hear it. I walk quietly in the trees and I tell the tiny life living there all my dreams and desires. And they hear me. And they don’t have to say a word for me to know that they did. I pray to the stars and the darkness above me in the sky and I know those waves of worry and hope sore up to ears I cannot see, yet I know they hear me. I feel it. Every. Day. Twinkle Twinkle, little star…how I wonder…and I know who you are…

No passion? You don’t see it. I live it every day. You just don’t, or won’t see me. –Ay

the ocean

Do You Know Your Heart?

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I gotta let this out…I am so confused. I see us dividing, it concerns me greatly, and I’m wondering why it’s happening. Is it perception? Is it fear? Is it greed? Our country is inflamed with anger and passion. We, literally, are at a tyrannical impasse. What do we do? The first thing that comes to mind is; 

Forgive. 

Forgive your neighbor. Did you let that sink in?
Forgive your family. Can you?
Forgive yourself. You are worthy.. 

Then Forgive. And then Forgive again. And then again. And again…

We are not a Christian nation. We are NOT. Christianity has been warped and made into something I can only describe as hateful and unloving. Jesus did NOT walk and talk the path of killing someone you do not agree with. Jesus did NOT ever say to take a life because you are fearful of skin color or garments. Jesus did NOT turn away from anyone. This is what I see; Christians stuck in the Old Testament. You have made it your very life to separate yourself from other people. Honestly, you have separated from your own Self. Tell me, did you forget that there are only two commandments in the New Testament? 1. Love your God with All of Your Heart, Mind, and Soul? This is the greatest commandment and 2. Love your neighbor as Yourself? Did you let that sink in? The current American Christianity is zealous and confrontational. It is divisive, judgmental, and mean. And it is radical. Radical like ISIS. Radical like any group bent on hurting or killing other people because they don’t think like you do. Did you let that sink in?

Are you feeling guilt, regret, or shame at your choice of President? If you aren’t, I really question the basis of your belief system, and I am very, very unhappy with you. But, I don’t hate you. I will make you soup and invite you to have a bowl because you need to eat, too. And I will ask you a lot of questions because I really don’t understand you. Our entire political system is fucked up and the two-party system is a dinosaur. I can’t help you with any of that, but I can forgive. Forgive the process. Forgive the Electoral College. Forgive you… 

Our spectrum of beliefs I wish I could call a rainbow, but all I see are shades of gray and red. Conservative or liberal, we are fed  bias news at every turn. Depending on where you are on the belief spectrum will determine where you prefer to get your dose of news. I found this interesting chart I want to share with you:

http://m.imgur.com/gallery/7xHaUXf

Credit to Mark Fraudenfelder from boingboing.net 

I don’t have any answers for you. I do not know what is in your heart. I am just sharing what I see and feel. My heart is breaking every damn day because we don’t Love Each Other. I am tired of it. This world makes me so sad. And then, I can step back from the dramas and look at my family and I feel Love still there. And every day I see examples of Love in the world, of people being kind and humane, and loving. Yes, I see it.

I don’t talk about praying, ever. (Matthew 6:5-15) But, dear God, if you are a praying person, please, can we come together, without our own desires or agendas, and just hold and uplift each other as people for the good of our country and the entire planet? Please? We all want Peace and a way to take care of our families. Isn’t that common-enough-ground?

Simply, there are two forces in the Universe; Love and Fear. Despite all the fear I see being played out all over the globe, I also see Love and I choose to walk with it and remember that Love is where I come from and so do you. I choose to see It and I choose to be It.

May All Beings Everywhere Be Happy and Free.

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