Re-Joyce.

I have especially been missing my grandmother more than usual lately. I had stayed up until 2am this morning drawing and designing these dresses that I never gathered the courage to put to paper. I really didn't feel like doing it until I thought of my Granny, which I decidedly named the collection of dresses Shirley Joy. I thought of her because somehow I had forgotten how encouragable she was. If you wanted to be a playwright she would demand that you write her a play. If you said you wanted to be an actress she would demand that your playwright cousins cast you as the lead role and perform the play in the living room. If you wanted to be a notable high-end fahsion designer she would drag you along with her to Jo-Anns and have you select fabric. If you absolutely loved singing, she would sit down in her rocking chair crocheting, listening to your barely tolerable high pitched mouse voice sing "The Colors of the Wind" for the 50th time.

All those things were initially what I had passionately enjoyed doing with my time, and it pains me to no longer see myself pursuing any of the above. So I got out of bed, whipped open my sketchbook that I haven't touched in months and scribbled away. When my grandmother had died I had mentioned something about her being a happy and peaceful woman. Now that I think of it; I chose those words for lack of a better word. My grandmother was brave. She was brave because she had every reason to sit in her room and cry from day to day. She had every reason to see the glass half empty and throw it straight out the window. She was brave because stood above complete solitude and sulking in self pity and she sprung back almost every time. I sat there drawing while holding that strange feeling in my throat when I'm about to cry, and wished that I could rise above my pessimism. Emiliana Torrini was right. It takes a lot of courage to be happy, and definitely a lot of heart. I don't want to spend anymore time philosophisizing about why I'm not doing anything. I just want to damn well do it, and do it well.

Thank you Granny.