It's easy to find adjectives to describe the vocals of Ioanna Gika.
Ethereal.
Hypnotic.
Haunting.
Hurting.
Hopeful.
Passionate.
But describing her music isn't quite as easy.
Eva Cassidy meets Massive Attack?
Enya meets Faithless?
Hope Sandoval meets Cocteau Twins?
Portishead meets, well, Portishead?
All of these are true.
But when it comes right down to it, Ioanna Gika is Ioanna Gika.
She's a talented vocalist, songwriter, musician.
She's a humanitarian.
She's a fighter.
She sings from the heart.
She sings from her soul.
And she has brought all of this to us with her debut solo album, "Thalassa", available now from Sargent House.
I have been a fan of Ioanna's since 2007. Her band Io Echo was one of two opening bands for She Wants Revenge on their tour to promote the album "This is Forever." I had no idea who Io Echo were when I walked into the Showbox in Seattle, WA that night. I walked out with a signed EP from what I knew were going to become one of my favorite bands and a top favorite female vocalist.
To this day I fangirl over the work that Ioanna does. This album gets, and deserves all my geeky fangirlness. What a treat to the auditory senses.
Beginning with "Roseate" and ending with "Drifting", this album hits on love, loss, and life. It's everything I had hoped for and more. My personal top song picks are "New Geometry", "Swan", "Roseate", "Ammonite", and "Drifting".
It took me almost a week of listening to truly be able to get out what words I did get out here. It's not much. It's not detailed. But it is from the heart. I love this album. And if you find yourself listening to it, I hope you do too.
Thursday, April 11, 2019
Sunday, June 3, 2018
I Don't Have Anxiety
I overthink pretty much everything.
But I don't have anxiety.
I worry about things I don't need to worry about.
I feel anxious about having to take an anxiety med.
But I don't have anxiety.
But I don't have anxiety.
I worry about things I don't need to worry about.
But I don't have anxiety.
I stress out way too easily.
But I don't have anxiety.
On an airplane I hold on to the arm rests for dear life and I tear up during take off.
But I don't have anxiety.
I have suffered from occasional, sometimes deep depression for 30 years.
But I don't have anxiety.
I question myself, the things I do, and the way people think about me.
But I don't have anxiety.
I have stomach issues and was prescribed an anxiety med to help with the "anxiety" that comes from having the stomach issues.
But I don't have anxiety.
I feel anxious about having to take an anxiety med.
But I don't have anxiety.
But I do have anxiety.
And it's time to rid myself of the denial.
It's time to embrace my anxiety.
It's time to focus on my good.
It's time to remember that it's OK.
Because I do have anxiety.
And it's time to rid myself of the denial.
It's time to embrace my anxiety.
It's time to focus on my good.
It's time to remember that it's OK.
Because I do have anxiety.
Sunday, April 23, 2017
Everything Changed. Nothing Changed At All.
On April 23, 2016 I got a call that would both change my world and not change my world at all.
That is the day my father passed away. This past year has been a weird roller coaster of emotions I wasn't expecting to ride and "new" family that I wasn't expecting to encounter. The story seems like it would begin two days prior when I would get the call that my father was dying. But really, the story begins over 40 years earlier - just months after I was born.
My father was married 5 times. I come from wife #2. Through the first 4 marriages there were 7 of us kids - 5 he was the birth father of, 1 he became the adopted father of, and 1 he was a step-father of. I never knew any of my half-siblings while I was growing up. My youngest sibling, from wife #4, is the only one I would come to know and have a relationship with. I was nearly 12 when she was born. I wouldn't really start to get to know her until I was an adult. And we wouldn't have a real relationship until we were both adults. But thanks to her Mom, who kept in touch with me after the divorce, I would get to see them from time to time. Now we get together regularly. While, like the others, she is technically my half-sibling, for all intents and purposes now, she is just my sister - no half about it.
I was born in the summer. By winter, he was gone. He would leave my mom for wife #3. My mom had full, sole custody of me; there was never a question, never a fight. He didn't just decide to leave my mom, he decided to leave me. I didn't see him on weekends. I didn't go spend a week with him during summer vacations. I didn't share holidays with him. I didn't really know him. But when I was young, that didn't seem to bother me. It wasn't until later that I would start to have feelings of hurt and resentment. And when those feelings hit, they hit hard.
"What a child will believe. You never loved me."
"Maybe someday when I look back I'll be able to say, you didn't mean to be cruel, somebody hurt you too."
Madonna's "Oh Father" was a song that hit me emotionally when it came out. Not that the situation with my father was quite the same as the lyrics stated. But these particular lyrics were words that would play over in my mind many times in my late teens/early twenties. The months leading up to my wedding and the strange, hurtful things he said to my mom and to me were true tests of those specific song lyrics.
On the morning of April 21, 2016 I received a voice mail from wife #5 stating that my father was in hospice and he wasn't doing well. If I needed to know more, I could call her back in the evening. Not one to be able to receive news like this and let it go, I could not wait until the evening. I was just about to call my sister when she called me. We spoke at great length about the calls we had just received and what was to come. We knew he had been in failing health. To be honest, we weren't sure if we'd actually get a call if and when he was in his final days, or when he'd pass away. Wife #5 wasn't exactly the friendliest, or a fountain of information. Thankfully she did give us the courtesy of that call in his final days.
This set off a series of emotional indifference and emotional lows. I never knew how I'd feel when this time came.
Would I be sad?
Would I be glad?
Would I be hurt?
Would I be ok?
I told my boss what was going on, because my mind wasn't fully on work that day. She asked if I was going to fly down to see him, because I may regret not going to say good-bye. I wasn't going to go. Sure, the main deterrent was that I didn't have the money to book a flight. But what would it accomplish, me flying half way across the country to see a man I barely knew and who was barely conscious? My sister and her husband decided to go. And with them, I sent a note for her to read to him.
Within hours of his death, I was involved in a text message conversation with the half-brother from wife #3. These conversations would go on for days. He was very excited to have contact with the siblings he never knew. For me, it was very overwhelming. This was a stranger. But this was also my brother. I wanted to know him, and the others, growing up. And now, here was this opportunity to know them, yet I found myself hesitant to do so.
What if they didn't want to know me? What if they did, but end up not liking me? In some respects I thought it didn't really matter because I went 43 years without them and was just fine. But in other respects the excitement and emotion of having them in my life after 43 years did matter. And the last year of "new" family has been a mix of it all. I gained a new cousin and an aunt and uncle, as well. Interestingly enough, we've all had similar situations of not knowing this man very well, or anything about our "family". The doors have been opened - now we just see who walks through them and how often.
Looking back on the 43 years I had my father in my life, the total amount of physical time spent with him (not including the couple of months he was in and out when I was baby) was less than 1 week worth of time. In reality, I don't know if even adds up to 1 full 24 hour day. Sure, there were phone calls here and there, as well as cards, letters, and emails from time to time. But physical, face to face time? Rare moments, at best.
Would I be sad?
Would I be glad?
Would I be hurt?
Would I be ok?
Turns out, it's all of the above.
I'm sad that the person who helped create me is gone. He was still my father, even if he was horrible at being so.
I'm glad that I was able to say good-bye in my own way and that he's no longer sick.
I'm hurt that he never took the time to be a real dad to me, or the time to get to know me, his son-in-law, or his grandson.
I'm ok. I always have been and will continue to be. Because while everything changed, nothing changed at all.
That is the day my father passed away. This past year has been a weird roller coaster of emotions I wasn't expecting to ride and "new" family that I wasn't expecting to encounter. The story seems like it would begin two days prior when I would get the call that my father was dying. But really, the story begins over 40 years earlier - just months after I was born.
My father was married 5 times. I come from wife #2. Through the first 4 marriages there were 7 of us kids - 5 he was the birth father of, 1 he became the adopted father of, and 1 he was a step-father of. I never knew any of my half-siblings while I was growing up. My youngest sibling, from wife #4, is the only one I would come to know and have a relationship with. I was nearly 12 when she was born. I wouldn't really start to get to know her until I was an adult. And we wouldn't have a real relationship until we were both adults. But thanks to her Mom, who kept in touch with me after the divorce, I would get to see them from time to time. Now we get together regularly. While, like the others, she is technically my half-sibling, for all intents and purposes now, she is just my sister - no half about it.
I was born in the summer. By winter, he was gone. He would leave my mom for wife #3. My mom had full, sole custody of me; there was never a question, never a fight. He didn't just decide to leave my mom, he decided to leave me. I didn't see him on weekends. I didn't go spend a week with him during summer vacations. I didn't share holidays with him. I didn't really know him. But when I was young, that didn't seem to bother me. It wasn't until later that I would start to have feelings of hurt and resentment. And when those feelings hit, they hit hard.
"What a child will believe. You never loved me."
"Maybe someday when I look back I'll be able to say, you didn't mean to be cruel, somebody hurt you too."
Madonna's "Oh Father" was a song that hit me emotionally when it came out. Not that the situation with my father was quite the same as the lyrics stated. But these particular lyrics were words that would play over in my mind many times in my late teens/early twenties. The months leading up to my wedding and the strange, hurtful things he said to my mom and to me were true tests of those specific song lyrics.
On the morning of April 21, 2016 I received a voice mail from wife #5 stating that my father was in hospice and he wasn't doing well. If I needed to know more, I could call her back in the evening. Not one to be able to receive news like this and let it go, I could not wait until the evening. I was just about to call my sister when she called me. We spoke at great length about the calls we had just received and what was to come. We knew he had been in failing health. To be honest, we weren't sure if we'd actually get a call if and when he was in his final days, or when he'd pass away. Wife #5 wasn't exactly the friendliest, or a fountain of information. Thankfully she did give us the courtesy of that call in his final days.
This set off a series of emotional indifference and emotional lows. I never knew how I'd feel when this time came.
Would I be sad?
Would I be glad?
Would I be hurt?
Would I be ok?
I told my boss what was going on, because my mind wasn't fully on work that day. She asked if I was going to fly down to see him, because I may regret not going to say good-bye. I wasn't going to go. Sure, the main deterrent was that I didn't have the money to book a flight. But what would it accomplish, me flying half way across the country to see a man I barely knew and who was barely conscious? My sister and her husband decided to go. And with them, I sent a note for her to read to him.
Within hours of his death, I was involved in a text message conversation with the half-brother from wife #3. These conversations would go on for days. He was very excited to have contact with the siblings he never knew. For me, it was very overwhelming. This was a stranger. But this was also my brother. I wanted to know him, and the others, growing up. And now, here was this opportunity to know them, yet I found myself hesitant to do so.
What if they didn't want to know me? What if they did, but end up not liking me? In some respects I thought it didn't really matter because I went 43 years without them and was just fine. But in other respects the excitement and emotion of having them in my life after 43 years did matter. And the last year of "new" family has been a mix of it all. I gained a new cousin and an aunt and uncle, as well. Interestingly enough, we've all had similar situations of not knowing this man very well, or anything about our "family". The doors have been opened - now we just see who walks through them and how often.
Looking back on the 43 years I had my father in my life, the total amount of physical time spent with him (not including the couple of months he was in and out when I was baby) was less than 1 week worth of time. In reality, I don't know if even adds up to 1 full 24 hour day. Sure, there were phone calls here and there, as well as cards, letters, and emails from time to time. But physical, face to face time? Rare moments, at best.
Would I be sad?
Would I be glad?
Would I be hurt?
Would I be ok?
Turns out, it's all of the above.
I'm sad that the person who helped create me is gone. He was still my father, even if he was horrible at being so.
I'm glad that I was able to say good-bye in my own way and that he's no longer sick.
I'm hurt that he never took the time to be a real dad to me, or the time to get to know me, his son-in-law, or his grandson.
I'm ok. I always have been and will continue to be. Because while everything changed, nothing changed at all.
Sunday, April 9, 2017
My Little Concert Universe
My favorite band, Depeche Mode, is getting ready to hit the road on a world tour in support of their latest album, "Spirit." And for the first time since 2009, I'll get to see them live! I can't wait! I know I'm slightly biased by my love of this band, but if you've ever seen them live you can understand my absolute excitement. If you have not seen them live, I do believe you should make time to at least watch some live performances on YouTube.
Between watching live feeds of pre-tour shows DM have been doing, along with a recording of a live Siouxsie & The Banshees show from 1981 the other day, I started thinking about my experiences with seeing bands in concert. When it comes down to it, from my first live show (alone, without my mom) at age 13 to now pushing my mid-40s, I really haven't been to many concerts. But I'm ok with that. Why? Because I have had the pleasure of seeing most of my all-time favorite bands. I can't ask for much more than that.
For someone who lives and breathes music, who finds solace, escape, happiness, and pleasure in music, and who finds more importance in music as therapy than anything else, it seems a little odd that I haven't been to more shows.
But I haven't gone to, and don't go to, many live shows for a handful of reasons:
1. Lack of money.
2. Time and cost of travel.
3. The overwhelming sense of over stimulation from the crowds and noise.
4. The tug-o-war between Pleasure vs. Responsibility.
5. I don't want to bore you with more reasons.
In my 33 years of DM fandom, I've only been able to see them live 6 times (plus an additional 2 solo Dave Gahan shows), which seems incredibly lame compared to stories of fans that have traveled the world and have seen them 20, 30, 40 times or more. But I've cherished each one of those 8 shows.
If I were to make a list of my Top 10 all time favorite bands, it would probably look something like this (in no particular order, other than DM being #1): Depeche Mode, Cocteau Twins, Dead Can Dance, Queen, Siouxsie & The Banshees, Joy Division, Kenna, Io Echo, The Airborne Toxic Event, and OMD.
And guess what? I've seen each of them live, at least once, except Queen and Joy Division. I did, however, get to see New Order (Bernard, Stephen, & Gillian) in 2014 and Peter Hook & The Light in 2016, each performing JD songs - so kind of close. Close enough for me, at least, since I was only 7 when Ian Curtis left this world.
So, while I sometimes feel envious of people who can, and do, go to show after show, I feel more content that I've managed to make the relative few shows I've gone to special ones and events that I will always carry with me.
If you've made it through this rambling little post, congratulations! And Thank You. There wasn't a real purpose to it other than I just felt like writing. Now I just need October to get here so I can experience the joy that is DEPECHE MODE!!!
Tour on ladies and gents! And we'll see you next time! ;)
Between watching live feeds of pre-tour shows DM have been doing, along with a recording of a live Siouxsie & The Banshees show from 1981 the other day, I started thinking about my experiences with seeing bands in concert. When it comes down to it, from my first live show (alone, without my mom) at age 13 to now pushing my mid-40s, I really haven't been to many concerts. But I'm ok with that. Why? Because I have had the pleasure of seeing most of my all-time favorite bands. I can't ask for much more than that.
For someone who lives and breathes music, who finds solace, escape, happiness, and pleasure in music, and who finds more importance in music as therapy than anything else, it seems a little odd that I haven't been to more shows.
But I haven't gone to, and don't go to, many live shows for a handful of reasons:
1. Lack of money.
2. Time and cost of travel.
3. The overwhelming sense of over stimulation from the crowds and noise.
4. The tug-o-war between Pleasure vs. Responsibility.
5. I don't want to bore you with more reasons.
In my 33 years of DM fandom, I've only been able to see them live 6 times (plus an additional 2 solo Dave Gahan shows), which seems incredibly lame compared to stories of fans that have traveled the world and have seen them 20, 30, 40 times or more. But I've cherished each one of those 8 shows.
If I were to make a list of my Top 10 all time favorite bands, it would probably look something like this (in no particular order, other than DM being #1): Depeche Mode, Cocteau Twins, Dead Can Dance, Queen, Siouxsie & The Banshees, Joy Division, Kenna, Io Echo, The Airborne Toxic Event, and OMD.
And guess what? I've seen each of them live, at least once, except Queen and Joy Division. I did, however, get to see New Order (Bernard, Stephen, & Gillian) in 2014 and Peter Hook & The Light in 2016, each performing JD songs - so kind of close. Close enough for me, at least, since I was only 7 when Ian Curtis left this world.
So, while I sometimes feel envious of people who can, and do, go to show after show, I feel more content that I've managed to make the relative few shows I've gone to special ones and events that I will always carry with me.
If you've made it through this rambling little post, congratulations! And Thank You. There wasn't a real purpose to it other than I just felt like writing. Now I just need October to get here so I can experience the joy that is DEPECHE MODE!!!
Tour on ladies and gents! And we'll see you next time! ;)
Sunday, April 2, 2017
Shy Socialites
Shy Socialites is the union of the graphic design and illustration passions of sisters Barbara and Tricia Wilson. They create custom invitations for all occasions, along with other special treats like cards, party kits, and custom illustrations of people, pets, and more!
I have been friends with Tricia for some time now and have followed Shy Socialites on Zazzle, Etsy, Facebook, and their own site for years. I adore the work that they do and think you will too!
I recently had the opportunity to order a custom illustration as a Christmas gift for my best friend and her husband. The process is simple and the Wilson Sisters are professional, quick to respond, and easy to work with. And the end result is something that will be cherished forever.
I chose the Custom Cartoon Drawing option. Here you can choose to do a single, double, or family portrait. You place your order for the option you want, then receive an email with a "Custom Character Illustration Questionnaire." If there is more than one person in the illustration, you fill out a form for each character. The questionnaire has questions about the person's personality, hobbies, interests, and favorite things, as well as the basics - eye color, hair color/type, height, etc. There is also a spot for you to include anything else you'd like to share about your subjects.
I submitted the questionnaires, along with photographs of my friends. Then Tricia did her magic. She asked me questions. We discussed the direction I wanted to go with the illustration. And what came from that was a gift that I fell in love with. And I think the recipients did too. She captured their likenesses perfectly. The extra design aspects (colors, border) were incredible. I knew the talent that this woman (both of these ladies) had. I have seen her illustrations of people before. Yet I was still surprised at just how amazingly accurate the characterization of my friends was!
Here is the final product:
Taking their love of tropical flowers and travel destinations, as well as a love of Disney, my friends are surrounded by beautiful flowers and hidden Mickeys!
Please check Shy Socialites out! If you're getting married, if you're having a baby, if your son or daughter is graduating, or if you are looking for the perfect gift for your best friend - THIS is the place to go! Not only will you be receiving a special keepsake for your special occasions, but you will be supporting two amazing women and a fabulous small business.
I have been friends with Tricia for some time now and have followed Shy Socialites on Zazzle, Etsy, Facebook, and their own site for years. I adore the work that they do and think you will too!
I recently had the opportunity to order a custom illustration as a Christmas gift for my best friend and her husband. The process is simple and the Wilson Sisters are professional, quick to respond, and easy to work with. And the end result is something that will be cherished forever.
I chose the Custom Cartoon Drawing option. Here you can choose to do a single, double, or family portrait. You place your order for the option you want, then receive an email with a "Custom Character Illustration Questionnaire." If there is more than one person in the illustration, you fill out a form for each character. The questionnaire has questions about the person's personality, hobbies, interests, and favorite things, as well as the basics - eye color, hair color/type, height, etc. There is also a spot for you to include anything else you'd like to share about your subjects.
I submitted the questionnaires, along with photographs of my friends. Then Tricia did her magic. She asked me questions. We discussed the direction I wanted to go with the illustration. And what came from that was a gift that I fell in love with. And I think the recipients did too. She captured their likenesses perfectly. The extra design aspects (colors, border) were incredible. I knew the talent that this woman (both of these ladies) had. I have seen her illustrations of people before. Yet I was still surprised at just how amazingly accurate the characterization of my friends was!
Here is the final product:
Please check Shy Socialites out! If you're getting married, if you're having a baby, if your son or daughter is graduating, or if you are looking for the perfect gift for your best friend - THIS is the place to go! Not only will you be receiving a special keepsake for your special occasions, but you will be supporting two amazing women and a fabulous small business.
Wednesday, March 8, 2017
Pain and Suffering in Various Tempos
On March 6, 2017, I got to do
something I haven't been able to do for 8 years. I bought tickets to see
Depeche Mode.
DEPECHE. MODE.
For the average person, this may not
seem like a big deal.
But to me, this is a huge deal. This
is me, getting to see my favorite band in concert. And not just any favorite
band - my favorite band for the last 32+ years.
For me, Depeche Mode is about music.
About meaning.
About feeling.
About love.
About life.
Music has always been a huge part of
my life. I grew up listening to everything from Abba to Queen, John Denver to
Luciano Pavarotti. I still do, to some extent, though I caught the New Wave bug
at an early age and have yet to shake it.
I was 12 years old when Depeche Mode
caught my eye - or ear. I had been a huge Duranie when I was 10 and 11 years
old. At 12, things started to change. I listened to KJET and KYYX, early 80s
new wave based radio stations in Seattle. I was introduced to artists like Kate
Bush, The Cure, Siouxsie & The Banshees, and Depeche Mode.
"People Are People" is the
first song I remember hearing. And I loved it. When I saw the video? I loved it
even more. I became an instant fan. Soon, Duran Duran started disappearing from
my bedroom walls and 4 lads from Basildon quickly took over. I bought
"Some Great Reward". Not long after, I added "Speak &
Spell", "A Broken Frame", and "Construction Time
Again" to my collection. In listening to those other albums, I realized
that I had heard "Dreaming of Me", "Just Can't Get Enough"
and "Everything Counts" before. I figure that they weren't the right
songs at the right time, though, because it wasn't until "People Are
People" that Depeche Mode stuck in my head.
By the time I was 16 years old, both
"Black Celebration" and "Music For The Masses" had joined
the family. At 15, I got to see DM live in Seattle on the MFTM tour. It was
magical and made me love them even more. But it would be a track from Black
Celebration that would quickly become the most important song in my life - and
would continue to guide me through good and bad, happy and sad so many years
later.
When I was 16, I began to suffer from
depression. It wasn't the 'woe is me I'm a moody teenager' depression. It
wasn't the 'you listen to depressing music, how can you NOT be depressed'
depression.
(For
the record, I have never found DM's music depressing, and I loathe the nickname
Depressed Mode)
I was always the shy, quiet girl. In
school I had friends - good friends; great friends. But I still often felt like
I didn't fit in or belong. This is something I still struggle with on occasion,
well into my 40s - but I'm working on it. I was different from some of my
friends in the music I listened to, the way I dressed, the ways I wore my hair.
And though I know they liked me, there were still moments where I felt unsure.
I began a spiral of feeling like if I never existed, it wouldn't matter. If I
were in the hospital, no one would come visit me. If I ceased living, no one
would miss me. Let me say this - I never hurt myself. I never even really considered
doing myself any true physical harm.
This was purely mental for me.
In one of my 'moments' I was
listening to Black Celebration. "But Not Tonight" came on. I always
liked that song. But it wasn't until that moment, 2+ years after its release,
that I truly LISTENED to that song. That I truly began to appreciate that song.
And found an absolute true love of that song. Like a brick wall, it hit me and
left an impression so deep that I carry it around with me today. I don't know
why it was that particular moment in time that it struck me so deeply. But it
did, and I will forever be thankful that it did.
"And I haven't felt so alive, in
years..."
Things started to get better for me
by the time I started my senior year of high school. I have continued to cope with
depression throughout my life off and on - some bouts worse than others.
"But Not Tonight" is not
always the solution when I am down. But it does help and will forever mean something special
to me and will always hold my hand when I need it.
In the years since, albums have been
released, and over and over again I fall head over heels in love with certain
songs, each meaning something important to me for one reason or another. There
is something very special about this band. They have been a part of my life
longer than most anyone else, other than family and a few friends. Martin Gore
(and now Dave Gahan) writes for people like me, people like you, and people who
want and need to feel like they belong somewhere. The lonely. The popular. The
young. The old. The jaded. The optimist. We're all welcome here. And through
this fandom, I have met some amazing people. The online DM family is full of
excitement and friendship. In person, the family bond is even stronger.
I may get geeky about Depeche Mode -
at a level normal people can't understand. But it's a way of life that got me
through awkward teenage years, through relationships, through friendships,
through pregnancy and motherhood, and continues to get me through the world we
live in and life in general.
Saturday, February 20, 2016
40 Reasons to Love Stephanie
On February 17, a very special person had a very special day.
My best friend hit a milestone birthday!
I had to think of a gift fitting of a woman who is one of the kindest, most generous people I know. She's always going above and beyond for me when it's my birthday. And while I always try to do something great, I knew this year had to be really great.
This is an insight...into my mind. My crazy, crafty, jumbled up, full of ideas mind.
Initially I came up with the idea of "40 Reasons to Love Stephanie" to do as a card. I would come up with 40 reasons and list them on, and in, the card. I started a list of reasons. When it comes to Stephanie, it's easy to think of reasons to love her. The more I thought about it though, the more I didn't like that idea. I'd need more room than just a typical card size. 40 Reasons needed to be a gift, not a card.
But what could I do?
My first thought - write out all of the reasons on individual pieces of paper and fill a clear glass jar with them. Stephanie could reach in and pull out a reason whenever she needed a smile or pick-me-up.
But I have horrible handwriting. Ok, I'll type out the reasons, cut them up and toss them in the jar. I went window shopping, looking at all types of jars. Twist off lid? Or flip top lid? Round? Square? Tall? Short? I put WAY too much thought into it and stressed myself out.
Next thought - Oh! Hey! What if I make this about more than just my relationship with Stephanie? We have a bunch of mutual friends! Why not ask for their input? They could make this an even greater gift. I sent out a message to our mutual friends asking if they would be willing to give me a (fully credited) reason why they love Stephanie. They didn't know how their Reasons would be used, but there were definitely some willing participants. I started getting some great responses and I knew this was the way to go.
While trying to find cute papers that would make good Reason paper, and look good in a glass jar, I saw some scrapbooking paper that had a road map design. Eureka! That was it! I was getting Reasons from friends all over the U.S. I even had Reasons from Canada and Greece. I would put these Reasons on maps. Not just any maps, though. I took maps from each city/area our friends lived. Voila! It was perfect!
But. Oh, there's the BUT again.
I still didn't have a vessel to put these reasons in.
Well, you're doing maps, I thought to myself. You need a globe! Or at least a round bowl/container/something. I bought a thick, almost card stock paper in blue and green with craft paper brown veins through them. In a clear glass container, it would be like looking at the land and water of a globe.
I typed out each reason on each map - using different colors and fonts.
I printed them out and cut them into rectangles.
I used a heavy duty crafting glue stick to bond the maps to the thick blue and green paper.
I folded each into little cards.
They were ready to go!
But here comes another but.
I couldn't find anything to put the cards in. I went to craft stores. I went to home stores. I went to department stores. I went to little bit of everything stores. I started to give up. 3 more stores in one evening with nothing that fit my vision. I quit. For the night at least.
My husband and I ran to a grocery store for a few groceries before heading home. I was grabbing some fruit when my husband, staring at the floral department, suggested they might have something there. Oh, sure, let's get a container at a grocery store. Nothing says love quite like that. My frustration was getting the better of me.
He was taking awhile, so I walked over there to see him holding it. The perfect "it". The perfect vessel. And the perfect 'so far out of my thought process' item I could have ever hoped for. The floral department had these amazing mini travel trunk looking boxes. There were two sizes. The larger one was way too large for my 40 little cards. But the smaller one? The smaller box was IT! Excitedly I bought that box and went home with a renewed sense of purpose. I emptied the bag full of Reasons into the box and it was kismet. They fit perfectly. And the colors of the cards worked with the color of the box.
I quickly jumped on my computer and created a vintage postcard design to complete the travel theme I had started with the maps. It was like a suitcase that had been around the world collecting stickers of all the places it had seen. I loved it so much.
The only problem? Having to wait for Stephanie to arrive home from a much deserved vacation the week of her birthday. The wait, however, was worth it as the gift resulted in her being "a speechless puddle of happy tears."
Happy Birthday my friend! And here's to many more days and many more Reasons to love you!
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