Kate of the Desert

Showing posts with label Me. Show all posts

Recently I have really jump-started my creative process {see last post}.

On my mission, I wrote lyrics about a variety of topics including World War II, the refugee crisis, sisterhood, and a soul lost in the River Styx. Other lyrics I have written since then include break-up songs, love songs, songs about eating disorders, etc. Recently, I figured out how to connect my high school MIDI keyboard to my laptop to conjure up a variety of sounds on GarageBand. I had always been able to envision the way my music sounded, but finally I have begun to officially compose and record. I love establishing a beat, giving a song depth with base contrasted with various melodies and harmonies, and giving my lyrics life as I sing {however amateur-ly}.

I have been painting again, blending tones to create dimensional faces.

I have been writing so much more. My brainstorming starts with a Pinterest board. I save images that represent the setting, clothing and culture of my story. In addition, I pin photos of people who best fit the descriptions of my characters. In the past, I would get stuck trying to write chronologically, but now if I have so much as an inkling of an idea for a random scene, I create an outline and then write it instantly, rather than letting myself "ponder" it for months. I wrote two short scenes that way yesterday. If I don't know quite the adjective or quite the way the dialogue should flow, I just leave a _____ or a [rough idea]. I have quit worrying if a chapter sounds awkward, or if it will even fit into the story at all in the end; it has been this constant stress-free writing that has allowed me to develop a plethora of new ideas.

I love my characters. I have worked on giving them depth, striving not to make them flawless and unrelatable to an audience. I don't want it to be clear who is the "good guy" and who is the "bad guy," because everyone is a hero in their own mind with their own perspective, thus, that is up for the reader to interpret. On that note, I will go write.

Fun fact: I love Photoshop.

Have you ever taken the time to write about yourself? It's rather interesting! The more you write, the more things dawn on you, and suddenly you've discovered all these quirks about yourself so that your life makes so much more sense! I highly recommend it. Here's what I found:

There's this unknown force that makes me do everything super fast. Like people make comments about it, that's how bad it is. I am always way ahead of everyone when walking in a group {despite my short legs}, I had to consciously force myself to not drive way over the speed limit back in my car days, I talk fast, I speed around the house even if I'm on vacation with another family and literally have no obligations... Waiting around for someone, be it city bus or just a friend, makes me so antsy, and Monday I worked on my online classes till eleven before getting up the next morning and realizing that I have almost nothing left to do for the rest of the week. Is it because I have a purpose with everything? Is it because I'm worried that if I don't get ahead I won't have time later if something important comes up? Maybe that's why I almost have enough credits to be a junior despite living away from home for only three months.
I always feel like I have to do SOMETHING productive during the day. I think it stems back from this March blog post when I was mad at myself for wasting so much of my time and made a goal to, well, do something productive every day. This is great in many many ways... But I've noticed that I now have a REALLY hard time relaxing. Gosh dang it, I'm taking seven classes already, why do I feel this crazy urge to sign up for an eighth! Yesterday, even though I worked out for an hour and like I said had finished almost all of my homework, I felt inexplicably uncomfortable with using my spare time to read a really good book and watch Netflix. There is nothing wrong with either of these things! Ironically, whenever I do have something my brain deems as productive like "school" or "homework" or "a job," I just want it to be over and done with so that I can go back to those other "less productive" things that I will never be able to truly relax with. Honestly I think writing is one of the few things I can do sitting in my room that I will feel totally content with.
I love reminiscing about the past and daydreaming of the future. I guess what other reason would I have to blog than to lock up all my thoughts and memories-- and then rummage through that safe months or years later, reliving those adventurous or hilarious or romantic times. Even worse, I totally get tangled up in visions of how I want my future to play out. Things I want to do when I'm married... when I'm a mom... when I get home after my mission and am reunited with those I haven't seen in too long... heck, I spent hours last Sunday planning out every nitty-gritty detail of the AZ Christmas party that can't even happen for several weeks!
My focusing skills are horrendous. That's why it's a shock I was able to read for so many hours yesterday, because be it class or church or writing or reading, it takes a heck of a lot of effort to tell my brain to shut up and pay attention to whatever is going on in the real world. It's not even that I start doing other things, I just fall a daze of daydreams, thought trains, and super random questions!
I am an extroverted introvert. This means that I can totally entertain myself for days on end by just being creative, I am 100% content sitting alone in the cafeteria or the auditorium and actually do so most days, and the more people there are in the setting the more quiet I will become. Despite being good at being alone, I can't spend too much time alone without craving the sight of familiar faces. I absolutely love socializing if I am comfortable with those around me, and I still always want to go out and meet new groups when with these friends, even though this is admittedly energy-expending. I do better when there are less than ten people, and I think I act the most myself when I am with only one or two. {Is this why I was always good at keeping long-term relationships but wasn't always the best at maintaining a solid friend group?}
I always have a million and one things to say. Perhaps this is why I love writing so much, because if someone gives a cue for me to tell my thoughts, I will suddenly dive into these long stories and explanations and contemplations. I have no issue talking about things that have happened in my life and love nothing more than a nighttime stroll and a deep discussion about life. People tell me I'm quiet, but that's because they haven't experienced me talking their friggen ear off.
I am semi-organized. Like I'm bad at keeping my dorm straight, but then all my Pinterest boards are organized into these super specific semi-categories. While most people have a few boards that all have hundreds of pins each, I have like three separate fashion boards {for different seasons}, four different wedding boards {separated into dresses, two different reception themes, and miscellaneous romantic ideas}, nine different food boards {you can't just mix all the entrees and desserts and salads and facts about clean eating all together!}, etc.
If I'm determined to be determined then I'm really good at it. Like tell myself no sugar for this set amount of time? Boom done. Convert my entire blog into a book by this set date? K, it will require spending weeks pouring all of my time and effort into it, make my eyes and fingers ache, and otherwise bore me to death, but I'll do it and be so glad I did. Not cry for MONTHS after the end of a two-year relationship and despite friendship troubles because I was gossiped to be a whiny weakling? OH HECK NO I will show them just how strong and confident I am {ok, this was admittedly a bad idea but no regrets, everything turned out splendidly}.
I like and dislike control at the same time. I hate being dependent and am good at taking the reigns if, for example, I have a group project and I want an A. I refuse to lose out on opportunities for a fun time, so I will totally text people to see if we could hang out even if though I am always so paranoid doing that. But I also have never initiated anything with a male ever {whoops} and am that indecisive person who will be like "I don't care, let's do whatever YOU want to do," when trying to make plans.
Conflict stresses me out like none other, so I try to avoid strife at all costs (even if it ends up backfiring in the end). I don't really get angry that easily. Yes, I am capable of getting annoyed or disappointed, but generally for me to get really mad there has to involve someone that I really deeply love. Either someone is hurting a person that I love... a person I love and have put some seriously deep trust in shatters that trust by lying or attacking my character... or a combination of that. To date I can't remember any time I've confronted someone about an issue... partially because I'm really bad at standing up for myself and because when these people made it 100% clear that their logic was not to be argued, I didn't how to react besides silence. Whenever something happens, though, I always have to talk it out with someone else, like my father, who won't judge but will sit there and listen before giving advice that helps both reinstate my confidence and then also help me see that other person's side of it. After it's all over, I usually can get over it pretty fast, even if my trust might not come back for a while. There was only one time that I stayed angry for an extended period of time, but I regret that. I think I was scared to put away my anger because I thought that would mean taking down my defense wall and becoming susceptible to the same attacks that had made me so vulnerable in the first place... but that's not true. Now I hope that if something were to ever happen again, I could remember who I am and that anger is not in my nature.

*Backstory: On my first blog post back in 2008, I said that I'd considered titling it "Kalizabeth Rose," me being a fifth grader and Kalizabeth being a combination of my first and middle names. I'd forgotten about it but when Dallin found it he thought it was funny apparently and now will randomly use it.*

I spent the past couple years playing wise-girl by telling people that I refused to get married too young because I wanted to "discover myself first." I would go to college, serve a mission, maybe do a study abroad-- but everything would fall into place, and I would magically figure out who I am and what I stand for simply by being independent before taking the step of being bound to another.
Discover myself? HA! It's only at this point that I realize I have never known what that meant.

        When people meet me, what do they see? Do they think I'm happy, kind, uplifting? Do they think I'm outgoing and adventurous or quiet and reserved? Annoying or dimwitted maybe? Sophisticated or complex, probably not, although I would certainly appreciate it. If they think I'm cute or attractive or {as the Bible put it when describing Leah} merely "tender-eyed" I quite literally have no idea. I'm not being depressed or dramatic, I'm just musing.
       If a person is defined by what they do, then I am a mediocre artist, a musician without the current ability to practice, a writer with the words trapped inside a tangled net of ideas, a student who is organized by means of getting homework done days ahead of time but completely unorganized in terms of keeping her desk straight, a runner who is slowly stretching her endurance levels, and an actress who pressed pause for the time being. If a person is defined by what they believe, then I am a Mormon, a pro-lifer and a vegetarian {btw that was the EASIEST transition and best decision ever}. I am an idealist who has a very difficult time sitting still both literally and figuratively. I am an introvert who still craves social living. I am terrible at developing solid friendships {and if this is my fault or circumstantial I have no clue} although twice already I have gotten into long-term relationships. I love animals and travel and taking pictures and getting lost in nature. I am a geek who couldn't stay interested in Gossip Girl like a normal teenager but can sit and watch historical documentary series for hours at a time. I am a sister and a daughter and at least was a girlfriend.
I attend a church school so of course I am constantly reminded that I am a daughter of God who loves me unconditionally. But what does this entail in a world where there are seven billion others? I truly hope to better understand this concept, especially since they also tell us that the purpose of our mortal lives is to grow {which I assume has to do with self-discovery}.
   It's a constant debate in my head whether I should be frustrated and force myself to be memorable somehow, or just stay comfortable in my own little introvert world. I desire so terribly to make a difference in the world-- in even one person's life! But I have yet to figure that one out.
Fortunately, I've only been independent for a few weeks. Maybe I will figure out what "self discovery" means and then actually discover myself. Maybe I'll never learn-- and I'll just keep chugging along being shaped by my life experiences but being happy all the while.

This whole school year, I've tended to reserve blogging for special events like vacations and holidays and the occasional really good Saturday night. But being unable to find the camera cord to upload photos from Europe and Winter Formal, I realized that perhaps I've neglected other more serious parts of my life. I mean maybe it was because, after all, this is the Internet and some of this stuff is personal. But when it's made such a big difference in my life, perhaps it's worth sharing.
*edit: to clear things up, no, this is NOT about me feeling melancholy or missing any of the old relationships/friendships. I have ZERO remaining feelings. rather I wrote this as a reflection because I realized how triumphant I now feel.*
It's weird to look back now and see how differently than I expected that weird thing called high school played out. I was always wrapped up in my own little world, shy and silent on the outside but bursting with endless loud ideas beneath my eggshell. Needless to say, I had a really hard time feeling like I fit in-- anywhere.
I did manage to find a group of friends and even a boyfriend. I compiled plenty of enjoyable memories, and-- oh man-- was I convinced for almost two whole years that I knew what "true love" was.
Yet still I'd go through these periods of inexplicable sadness unquenched by fun Friday nights. I didn't feel right where I was {although still convinced the relationship was perfect} yet was completely incapable of making any change that might help me feel more... important? Is that the word? Finally, at the time of junior Prom, it seemed everything was working out. I started to become more connected with some of the people in my friend circle, and everyone in my prom group was dating each other. What I didn't know what that it would never last. When summer rolled around, everything fell apart.
We needn't go into the drama. What I will say is that the breakup dragged on for a month, and that I was very naive {especially towards the very end} thinking that I could still pick up the pieces and make everything picture perfect again. I just reread the breakup post from August and about died laughing when I saw that we "stilled poked each other with pencils" and that the sole reason for the breakup was "to get ready for his mission." HAHAHA. The day after that post we got in a huge fight where the truth was revealed and then we never really spoke again.
Now here's where we really begin.

In a moment when I thought this was bound to be the worst year of my whole high school career, I said "Girl, get ahold of yourself!" and just like that decided to make a change. My friends weren't really being that great to me, a secret of mine was spilled and gossip started flying around behind my back. Yet when I made up my mind to not cry over silly things, to not be a victim and to take control of my own life, suddenly I felt happier than I'd ever felt in my entire life. I gained a sense of self esteem because I recognized how useless it was to hide behind my own fears and self-pity. How trivial were my "problems" compared to the million other things I could be dealing with, so why not turn it into something better? It doesn't mean I was a witch; I dealt with things passive-aggressively, and let me tell you silence made such a bigger statement than a screaming fight ever could have. And I'm not saying that anything was easy. I had to be brave in the sense that I made changes in my social life-- both in who I spent my weekends with and with how I interacted with people in general. I forced myself out of my shell to become more talkative and suddenly realized that the big bad world may not be that big and bad after all.
The funny thing is, things have really been working out. The moment he said, "It's over," I thought everything was over, and yet within a matter of days things slowly but surely started taking an unexpected turn for the better. It was just a matter of positivity, a matter of doing the best I could and then just rolling with it. I've met new people I get along better with. I've encountered opportunities that I otherwise would've forgoed.
If I were to go back in time and meet the girl I was back in August, I don't know if she'd recognize me. I've changed so much. But I would never take anything back.

Yesterday, I decided that I'd made up my mind. I've been completely torn over whether I want to go into nursing or design. When I explained my dilemma to friends, they looked at me like I was crazy. But I wasn't kidding. I have always been fascinated by health facts and loved helping deliver my dogs' puppies. I adore the idea of being someone's hero, being someone respected, someone important. Yet from the time I was a toddler, I have found myself buried in my own artwork, whether it be doodles on my planner or homemade picture books or blog designs or works on a canvas. I created a portfolio before I'd made it into the double-digit age, and even last night, I finished making chalkboard paint for my room before smothering my walls in chalk designs. I knew I had to make a choice. And I realized that, although I would love to help people in the medical field, my dislike of anything chemistry, physics, math related including anything biolically in need of a microscope to see... my current frustrations with my anatomy class with the complicated terms used for pretty much everything you wouldn't even imagine existed in the body... my stress having to work under a tight, dependent schedule doing vitally specific things... Well, that would not go over well with the person I was trying to help, would it? I like learning about nutrition and the best ways to live a healthy life and having a basic understanding of what the possible issues could be when someone isn't feeling their finest... But I guess that's not what makes a nurse. And I guess it's not for everyone.
But design on the other hand... I have and always will adore using my creativity. So should I not do something that I love?
I created this pastel painting yesterday afternoon. It was so fun to mix so many colors! I had to laugh when I showed it to my siblings and Eric said, "How's she throwing so many leaves at once?"
Of course, it'll take some learning. I've never taken an art class other than those required in elementary school, so I'm excited to see how I can improve myself. And guess what? I have a whole life ahead of me.

As someone who has always been small due to a mother's pregnancy on medication, an abnormally short umbilical cord, and just plain petite genetics, I could easily fit the weak stereotype. For the longest time, people would think me several years younger than I actually was because I was so short and skinny. Add that to the fact that I am naturally shy, a soft-spoken introvert who has been classified by friends as mysterious and difficult to understand.
But there is a difference between small, or quiet, and weak.
Today, I have decided that I refuse to let myself be weak. I will not shrivel away as a useless being before my time to be a... well... corpse has come. I will not lie and tell you that I haven't struggled with that, dipping down into these periods of self-worthlessness and zero motivation to do anything other than lie in some dark room. But no more.
Perhaps we don't know exactly what we're doing here. On earth. But we can't deny the fact that we are all breathing, so we might as well seize up the opportunity granted by this miracle called Life and make the best of it.
To be honest, I have no idea where I'm going with my future. I want to graduate high school, go to college and eventually have a family, but what about the little details? Although I would like to go to BYU, I have no idea whether I want to go to Hawaii or Provo, if there's a study abroad program I can join, if I should go into nursing or if I should be a graphic designer... But the great thing is, I DO have all these options. And I am free to decide which one will accomplish my innermost dreams.
There is no point in joining the world population just to mourn how I wasn't born with the facial structure of standard western beauty, or how my more reserved personality has failed to gain me some grand posse, etc etc ect
. No. The point is to take what I have, mere threads, and weave them into an intricate tapestry to call my own.
From now on...I choose to be happy. I choose to be strong.

Life is beauty.

But everything has it's origins, and life is no exception. I am no exception. Thus the question that will haunt me more than anything else as I take my turn to occupy a space on earth is who were those that made me possible?   We just learned exponential functions in math, so let me be a little nerdy here. To find the number of ancestors for x number of generations ago, f(x)=2^x . Approximating that there's 25 years per generation, then in just 250 years of just 10 generations you have 1024 ancestors. 1024! As the numbers increase, it becomes obvious that ancestors are shared because eventually the potential number of ancestors exceeds the population of the planet at that time. I highly recommend reading more on this and how we're all descended from Nefertiti here.
     So ditch the technical stuff now. These people were not just numbers, but living breathing souls who had names, who experienced life into maturity with moments of laughter, moments of tears. Were they quick & witty or lion-hearted, were they lowly slaves or kings & queens? Every single one of them traces back to the dawn of humanity, first through Noah {btw, Robert Ballard may have found actual evidence of the Flood, here!} but then back to Adam.
    Although I'm not sure exactly how accurate this is, according to my grandparents I am related to Hans Christian Andersen as well as George Washington, both not directly but through their brothers or something. My mom's maiden name is Bohr, as her step-dad {so not true blood, but still}, was a direct descendent of the famous chemist Neils Bohr. My cousins are direct descendents of Hyrum Smith, the brother of Joseph Smith, which through the lineage of the Howard family makes them related to Emma Hale, George W. Bush, George W. H. Bush, Richard Nixon, Gerald R. Ford, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, and Winston Churchill. {I'm not lying! Look up pictures of the John Howland family tree for proof.} I know in actuality I am greatly Danish, because the Lundgreens crossed the Atlantic and then the Great Plains in the 1800's to find religious freedom with the other LDS people in Utah. One person was even the thirty-somethingth member of the church. On my mom's father's side, the French Girouards came to Quebec in the 1700's. One who did not travel to the Americas suffered the fate of beheading at the guillotine with Marie Antoinette. My oblong facial structure is proof of my being 1/32 Native American; my great-great grandmother was a Creek Indian actually born on the Trail of Tears! Intermingled in my DNA is also Scandinavian Viking, Irish, Scottish, and English.
My name Katherine originated from the Greek word for "pure," while Elizabeth is the Hebrew "promise." Obviously my parents weren't choosing my name for my ancestry {my mom had it picked out at 18} but really, could I have any Greek blood, any Hebrew? For that matter, ancestry goes back far enough why not Ethiopian, Indian, or Chinese? Do I read in the history books about world heroes or villains who's children's children's children's child happens to be me?
I just wish I could know. Go back a few short generations and I already can't remember names, much less their amazing stories or little quirks that made them who they were. And this is unfair on my part, because I owe them my life.
This is why perhaps I write my story and strive to make the best of it. After I have children and my clock has ticked it's last minute, after 250 years when I have become one of 1024 ancestors forgotten in a distant past, maybe God can grant the kindness of allowing my book to be dug back up so that my memory can live on, not forgotten.

If you read my bio, you'll discover that my name is Katherine Elizabeth Lundgreen, Katie, and that I am much different from anyone else. If you take the time to peek into yourself, you'll discover that you too are unique. And so is everyone else.

Recently I've found that I really enjoy researching psychology and learning about the different types of personalities that define who we are. We are all born onto this earth with special DNA and a soul that, when stirred together with a bit of environment, create a person. Yesterday I took a quiz {whose link I highly recommend you click on} and determined that, according to the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, I am type INFJ {Intoversion, iNtuitive, Feeling, Judging, or introverted intuition with extroverted feeling, also called "the Protector"}. After a bit more research, {you see the link, and now you know what to do} I learned that this kind of personality is the rarest of all sixteen and makes up only 1% of the entire population. How cool! And as I read through the information, I realized that many of the descriptions really do fit to me.
But while it was interesting to have a little fun and read about these different traits, it was also my chance for a growing experience. There are many good qualities that tag along to INFJ's, but their also many weaknesses too. And these weaknesses can have a huge impact if you're not careful. I mean, how else could Jesus, Ghandi, several Greek philosophers, Mother Teresa, Jimmy Carter, and Adolf Hitler all be put under the same INFJ personality category like myself unless it meant that some of these people let the chinks in their personal strength engulf them while the others used these potential problems to make them stronger?
Oh man, here I am making the descripion of INFJ's being oddly deep thinkers come true... But I guess the moral of this glob of words {that may or may not be interesting to you depending on your personality type} is that you should always be striving to be the best you can be. Seriously, YOLO!

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