Imaginary Authors, Indefinable Characteristics, Spring, the Female Protagonist, & Wedding Bliss.

Spring has sprung and the inspiration and drive to be inspired have leapt out of the sprung spring just as Jack leapt out of his box.

Too much?

But really. There’s something about the changing of seasons (whatever season it may be) that just demands attention. It calls out to any creative juice that flows through your blood stream and says “HEY, it’s time to get rolling!” Weather is incredible that way. I’ve always been of the opinion that weather is the ultimate dictator of senses, moods, emotions, atmosphere, perspective, thought-process. You name it. Weather affects. And it affects me greatly.


That being said, the wonderful world of Bellingham has been hypnotized by the spring fairy. The weather is warming up, the sun is almost always out, the tulips are a’bloomin, and it truly seems that there is a constant sparkle of pink flowers floating in and out like a breath with every breeze.

For Pete’s sake, I can’t tell you how liberating it feels just to walk outside in a pair of jeans and a plain white tee-shirt. Or dare I say, even a dress. Without the tights underneath. Sixty-four degrees and sunny, I think I love you.

I wish I could say that I’ve been madly taking advantage of this desire to be inspired by actually creating things (crazy notion?). But sadly, I can’t claim much of anything.

What I have actually been doing is simply quite a lot of thinking. The Plight of the Thinker. That’s what I call it. Does it resonate with you? I guess the definition would be this:
The faultiness of being simply a thinker is that thoughts get in the way of actions. Thinkers are driven wild by the idea of things. The idea of being inspired, the idea of inspiration, the idea of doing things, the idea of thinking things, etc. And so, driven to madness by these inspiring thoughts, the thinker does nothing at all. Only thinks.

I suffer from the plight.

The thought that I’ve been spellbound by as of late is that of the female protagonist. Or any protagonist really, but for me, the female. The idea of character. True character. And that every person is their own character. Not has character, but is a character. And there’s such a level of choice in the matter, too. Making a conscious decision to embrace your character is pretty exciting. When do you hear the word “character” most often? Well, when it’s in reference to a book, a movie, a made-up tale. If you were a character in a book, how would you be described? What kind of indefinable qualities do you have, that are just dying to try to be defined?

I guess you could just say that I’ve been thinking a lot about character development. But in real people. Developing your own character as if you were developing a character in a story. It just leads to some interesting thoughts. (There I go with “thoughts” again.) Qualities of an individual are just so enticing. From small, superficial details (she had short, dark hair that curled at the ends and she always had on a smearing of red lipstick), to the more complex details (she suffered from The Plight of the Thinker).

Anyway, I don’t know if any of that made any sense at all. But it’s what the inside of my brain has been looking like lately. (When it’s not bowled over by a migraine.)

I have due credit to pay for some of these thoughts. My discovery of a little something called “Imaginary Authors” triggered many of these musings.

They make perfume. Seriously. I’m not a perfume-person, but since I discovered Imaginary Authors, I find myself pining for some perfume.

They make perfumes (quite interesting scents, actually) based off of made-up authors and their made-up books. I kid you not. I find the whole thing wildly intriguing and mesmerizing and exciting. Their website doesn’t actually contain too many words, but this tidbit from it says an awful lot: “Like a good book, these scents are meant to inspire you. In these bottles are layered narratives that are sure to generate stirring conversation, fragrances that might be capable of changing the course of your own personal story. The hope is that they not only invigorate and intoxicate, but also take you to new places.”

I love it. Darnit, I just think it’s the niftiest thing. Now, being “not a perfume-person” like myself, I can’t ever imagine spending $85 on a bottle of perfume. Even for something this cool. But they do have sample vials for only $6. Now that is maybe something I would do. Just to add a little spice to my character.

My body is not feeling terribly well right now so I’m going to wrap things up. Let’s step back into the real world for a moment.

On Thursday, Adam and I leave Juvenaly behind (thank God for good church friends/cat lovers/cat babysitters) and board a plane to Sacramento. We’ll be spending a long weekend driving back and forth and back and forth from Sacramento to San Francisco. Why, you ask? Well because one of the most beautiful girls in the whole world (and one of my dearest dearest friends) is getting married to her partner-in-crime!! AND I get to be a bridesmaid! (Brides-matron?) I could not be more thrilled for the sweetest of sweets, Clare and Michael. We’ll be celebrating the wedding in the unbelievably beautiful Holy Virgin Russian Orthodox Cathedral in wonderful San Francisco. This cathedral just happens to be where the blessed and beloved Saint John Maximovitch (the Wonderworker of Shanghai and San Francisco) served. And we’ll also be spending time at the newer cathedral that he helped build AND where his holy relics reside. Glory to God for all things!!

(And a sidenote, the wedding day, April 26th, happens to be Adam’s and my 6-month-iversary!)

SO this weekend we get to spend a bit of time with my parents and sister in Sacramento, we get to be near Saint John, we get to celebrate our 6 months of marriage in my favorite city, and most importantly and excitedly we get to be there to see and support Clare and Michael being united eternally to one another in the Church!

Life is good, and I am happy to be alive.

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Sorry Juvenaly. You can’t come to San Francisco.