Day 120: Art Appreciation

Nope. I was wrong. This will not be more interesting.

Do you need to agree with an artist’s lifestyle or politics to appreciate their art? To spend money on it?

I love art. I think it is awesome. I can’t do it, but I love looking at it. I follow about a dozen different art accounts on Instagram, because I just love looking at art. But do I agree with their lifestyles or politics? Does it matter?

I really do not care about their lifestyle or their politics. I generally don’t care about any politics at all, to be honest. As for lifestyle, I would maybe feel uncomfortable looking at their art if I knew that they were a criminal or a horrible person, but since most of the accounts that I follow are people that I don’t know, I don’t know that kind of thing about them.

As for spending money on it, I don’t buy art. The pieces of artwork hanging on my wall were mostly gifts. I got the owl painting from my friend for my birthday last year. The tulips were painted by my brother’s friend for my tenth birthday. The drawing of the girl was just a random gift from a friend sometime in the last couple of years. I also have a 3D picture of Salzburg that I got from a garage sale thing, but I don’t think I actually even paid for it. It was left over after the sale and I was just given it. And the mini quilt, which is kind of art, is something that I did pay for, but it wasn’t expensive and I didn’t know the maker.

So, to answer the question, no. I feel like I should just appreciate it for what it is without bringing other things into it.

Yay for two short boring posts!


Day 119: Cringe-Worthy

I didn’t post yesterday because I fell asleep.

Yes. That is my excuse.

So here’s yesterday’s post.

Do you feel uncomfortable when you see someone else being embarrassed? What’s most likely to make you squirm?

There are a lot of things that will make me squirm. Watching other people being embarrassed is definitely one of them. If I would have been embarrassed in that situation if I was in their place, then I will feel extremely uncomfortable.

Other things that make me squirm? Remembering things that were embarrassing for me, like the drama that my friends and I made up and performed in year eight that my friends refuse to speak of. That kind of thing. A lot of things make me uncomfortable, actually. If the situation is at all awkward, then I will feel uncomfortable. If I’m remembering a situation that was at all awkward, then I will shudder and squirm. Literally.

This is a really boring post. But I don’t know what else to say.

Eh, oh well. I have to do today’s one as well. Hopefully that will be more interesting.

Day 118: Your Time To Shine

Early bird, or night owl?

If you haven’t already figured this one out, I’d be concerned.

I am most definitely a night owl. The worst sound in the world is the sound of my alarm in the morning. I hate getting up early. Sure, the world is fresh and new each morning, but I’d rather see it a bit later on in the day. After lunchtime would be ideal.

Though I do have a bit of a love-hate relationship with being a night owl. I love to stay up late, but it always comes back to bite me. You see, I do my best work after about 9pm, especially if it is due the next day. I basically have the mindset of “I need sleep so I need to do this now so I can’t procrastinate”, as opposed to my normal “I’ll do it later” mindset. But then I still procrastinate just a little, end up staying up til all hours of the morning, and still have to get up when my alarm goes off at 6:45. Silly me.

Two years ago, I had the holidays to write a speech and an essay. I left both of them to the night before school started. I think I finished at about 1:30 in the morning. I still got a very decent grade on both of them, but I definitely regretted it.

So, to answer the question, I am a night owl. But I kind of wish I wasn’t. In fact, I am going to go to bed right now. I might read for a bit, but no more internet or technology. I am going to get a decent amount of sleep tonight.

*stays on YouTube until two in the morning*

Day 117: Wall To Wall

Today was a public holiday, and I spent the day doing absolutely nothing. Yay me!

What do you display on the walls of your home — photos, posters, artwork, nothing? How do you choose what to display? What mood are you trying to create?

Since I still live with my parents, I don’t choose what is on the walls in most of our house. But I get to choose everything that goes on my walls, so we’ll talk about that.

I used to have so much stuff on my walls. When I decided to repaint my room, it took me about half an hour to get everything off my walls. Drawings, postcards, random things from friends… Everything was on there. Now, I’m slightly more selective.

Alright. Starting from my door and going around clockwise, I will list the things that are on my walls.

•An Anne of Green Gables Christmas tree ornament that I got for Christmas
•A wooden thing with nine boxes inside a frame that holds ornaments
•A drawing that my friend did for me of a girl standing under a tree
•A blue clock that has a duck down the bottom, with eyes that move from side to side, since they are a pendulum
•A flower/friendship themed calendar
•Psalms 86:16-17 in Maori
•My bigger mirror
•A painting of tulips that I got for my tenth birthday
•A hanger thing that holds hairbrushes and that kind of thing
•A cat themed calendar
•A lamp
•My second place ribbon from cross country, the only sports ribbon that I’ve ever won
•A large poster saying NO OTHER NAME
•My DIY keyring holder, which is basically just a row of pins
•A post-it note with my to-do list from the holidays
•A small canvas with a painting of owls in a tree that u got for my birthday
•A pastel coloured, beach themed calendar
•Another wooden ornament holder, this time with a door on it
•A small flower quilt
•My other mirror, which is flower shaped
•A 3D picture of Salzburg, Austria, which I only got because it looked cool, not because I had any interest in Salzburg
•An animal cross stitch with my name and date of birth

Hmm. That’s still a lot of stuff. And a large variety of stuff as well.

What kind of mood am I trying to create? Well, this is my room. I see it far more than anyone else. I’ve spent probably around half of my lifetime in here. So the stuff on my walls is stuff that I see a lot. Anything that goes on my walls goes on there because it is something that I wouldn’t mind seeing everyday. I’m not trying to create a sophisticated look or a calm feel. I’m trying to create a space where I feel safe and at home and happy. Yes, a lot of the stuff that it up there is childish. But I don’t care. It is my space, my room, and it helps me to feel at home and safe. That cross stitch that I mentioned? That has been up there my whole life. The large mirror is the same, as is the hairbrush holder and the lamp. Everything else has come in over the years, and has been placed up there because I want to see it everyday. I want to see that ribbon and be proud of my achievements. I want to see the drawing and be reminded of how awesome my friends are. I want to see that Bible verse in Maori and be reminded of my faith in God. I want to see that mirror and be reminded of how I’ve changed, from the little girl with no friends and a weird haircut, to the person that I am today.

Well that was a bit of a rambling rant.

Day 116: Second Time Around

Tell us about a book you can read again and again without getting bored — what is it that speaks to you?

I am the kind of person that will read books multiple times. Any book, really. If I liked it the first time, I’ll read it again.

I think it’s because I like familiarity. I like knowing what’s going to happen. It is always interesting the second time that you read a book, because you have more insight on the things that are happening.

But, above all that, some books are just really good books that I love reading. I’ve mentioned a couple on here before that I can read over and over again. Wonder by R. J. Palacio. The Maya Davis series by Erynn Mangum. Basically any book by Melody Carlson. That kind of thing.

I just realized something. This is kind of off topic, but why do people buy books if they only read them once? I should probably explain what I mean. I know that a lot of people can’t or don’t reread books. They read it once, and that is it, no matter how good it is. Why, then would you own any books? What is the point? You’ll just read it and then never touch it again. I have read around 90% of the books that I own more than once. I don’t think I’m exaggerating there. And I own probably around 300 books.

Actually, I should count. Here’s a fun exercise. How many books do I own?

I just counted, and there are around 231 novels on the bookcases in my room at the moment. I only counted my novels, so not picture books left over from my childhood, or Bibles and devotional books and that kind of thing. Just the novels on my bookcases. I also have at least 50, if not more, on bookcases in the hallway, since there isn’t enough room in my room. So yeah. I own around 300 books.

And that doesn’t include Kindle books either. I have around 300 of them as well.

Now, what was I even talking about? I have no clue.

Ah, right. Rereading books.

So, like I said, I reread books a lot. But one book in particular that I can reread again and again without getting bored? Hmm.

You know what? I don’t know. There are just so many, and yet I do tend to get bored of them all after a while.

Oooh I know. I just thought of one. I’ve actually only read this one three or four times (as opposed to my 10+ times with other books), but if I ever need a book to read and nothing sounds good, then I can go to this one. The book is Kilmeny of the Orchard by L. M. Montgomery. I don’t know what it is about this book. It just speaks to me? Which is funny, because the whole book is about a girl that can’t speak. But I just love.

So. After all that, that is the book that I can reread again and again.

We also learnt that I have a lot of books.

But I think we already knew that.

Day 115: Clone Wars

If you could clone yourself, how would you split up your responsibilities?

Ugh I don’t know. Personally, I wouldn’t want a clone. I just watched an episode of The Flash with my brother (hence the lateness of the posts), and there was this creepy dude that could change into any person that he touched. At one point, the guy was impersonating Barry (main guy, The Flash himself), and he, as Barry, decided to kiss a girl that Barry worked with.

Talk about awkward. Also this guy was evil.

But I think a clone would be creepy. And it would just end up messing things up, because there’d be two of you and it would just get confusing. Imagine seeing yourself but not looking in the mirror. That would weird me out.

This is my way of saying that I can’t be bothered and I’m too tired.

But if I had to get my clone to do something, I would get it to tidy for me. This room is a mess.

Time for sleep. This is what spending 17 hours with a group of energetic 9-14 year old girls does to you. I was wanting to go to bed at quarter past eight last night. It was exhausting.

Day 114: Stranger

Like I said, I was a bit too busy to do this yesterday, so I’m using it as today’s Weekend Extra instead.

Or something like that.

Have you ever had a random encounter or fleeting moment with a stranger that stuck with you?

Hmm. Let me think.

I used to deliver junk mail around my block, and I would sometimes have rather strange conversations with strangers, although nothing too exciting. One guy asked me once if I was carrying a baby in the backpack that I was using to carry the junk mail. That was weird. He was probably in his 50s or 60s. Another time, a kid poked his tongue out at me, and me, being the immature person that I was (and still am), I poked my tongue out at him in return. He then ran up to his dad, and told him that “that lady poked her tongue out at me!” I was about 14.

But I can’t think of anything particularly exciting or interesting.

OK. I just thought of something slightly more interesting. Still kind of boring, but it fits the requirements.

When I was eight, my family and I went on a month long holiday to Canada and the US. This was the first time that my brothers and I had left New Zealand, and the first time we had been on a plane, so it was pretty awesome. Add in the fact that we went to Disneyland, and you basically have a dream holiday.

Other then our bags getting lost, of course.

But anyway. I think we had a total of about 10 flights on this holiday, give or take a couple. And while we managed to all get seats together on most of them, there were a couple that we were split up on. I ended up by myself, away from my family on one of them. I think they were actually just a couple of rows back or something like that. So I was sitting next to this girl. She was probably in her late teens or early twenties. She didn’t talk to me very much on the flight, but at some point we had a conversation, and she seemed really nice. After we got off the plane and were collecting our bags, I saw her again and she smiled and waved at me.

I don’t know why I remember her. I think I was just really scared about being by myself (since I was only eight), and sitting next to someone nice just calmed my fears a bit.

Oooh now I’m thinking about a whole load of travel stories that I could share for this.

OK. Two more strangers.

The first was the guy at our hotel in Vancouver. Same holiday. We were at this really nice place, and the guy at the front desk was really nice and really friendly to us all the whole time we were there. At one point, we were leaving the hotel for the day, and I got in the elevator before everyone else did, and it left with just me. Being only eight, I was really scared and freaking out, but the guy in the lobby waited with me and talked to me to calm me down until the rest of my family made it down. He was nicer than he needed to be.

Less than half an hour after that, we were getting on the train, and I wasn’t paying attention, and I just about didn’t make it on. I’m pretty sure someone held the door open or something while my dad grabbed me and pulled me on.

That wasn’t the other stranger, by the way.

The other strangers (I’ve decided to just make it a collective group of strangers) were the people on my plane on my flight over to Brisbane. At the end of 2013, I went over to Aussie by myself to visit a friend of mine. I hadn’t been on a plane since our holiday when I was eight, and I had never been on one by myself before. I was fifteen, which meant that I wasn’t technically a minor, but I was a bit hesitant to travel by myself, so I got treated like an unaccompanied minor, to put it simply. I had someone with me at all times between leaving my family at the airport and meeting up with my friends’ family in Aussie. And every single one of those people was so nice. The air hostesses treated myself and the other minor like we were first class passengers or something. We got to sit at the back of the plane, away from everyone else. I got breakfast on the plane, even though I’m not entirely sure that I was meant to. The other minor, a thirteen year old girl, was also very nice. Everyone was just so friendly and caring, and it really helped to calm my nerves and get me excited about my trip.

Alright. One more person. The guy that held up the bus for me. My mum was dropping us off at the bus stop one morning, but the bus was early. I forgot to shut my car door, and by the time I had run back and shut it, the bus had pulled away from the curb. However, a random guy crossing the street held up the bus for me, getting it to stop and wait.

All of these encounters stick with me, because these random people went above and beyond to be kind to me, a stranger. Sure, some of them were paid for it, but they didn’t have to be as kind as they were. Their kindness helped to make a stressful situation into a good memory for me, simply because they did something small to be kind.

And I thought that this post was going to be short.