If interested, read my ENGLISH COMP 1 Essay on Remembered Events

love11

Just a second, I have to figure out how to get this up!

love11

Love11

Remembered Event

Living with an Artist

love11

Does anyone know how to take a Word document and put it here? I tried copy and pasting it and it isn't working.

Oh well, if I can't get it going just ignore this thread. Sorry.

jstalin

Copy and paste it into notepad first, then copy and paste it here from notepad.

love11

Love11

Remembered Event

Living with an Artist

We met at , right before Thanksgiving. The mall is closed now, but at the time it was still considered to be somewhat of a mall, with only a few stores empty with the windows covered in black paper. It was around 6:30 at night when my sister Emily, her friend Lisa and I decided to go to the mall instead of going to the meeting. I decided that I wouldn’t go anymore if I really didn’t feel it in my heart to go back. I was proud of myself for making that decision, but I still believed that I would go back someday when this feeling had past.

A few days before this night, all of us went to a club to go dancing, despite the fact that Lisa and I were only eighteen years old and my sister was only sixteen, somehow we got in. That night at the club, Lisa had a rude guy coming on to her who just wouldn’t leave her alone. She ended up slapping him for grabbing her and pulling her close to him. The night at the club was still fresh in our minds when we saw a man inside of an air brush shop that, from a distance, seemed to look just like him.

So our posse of girls decided to raise some trouble and "give ‘em a piece of our minds". We walked in nonchalantly looking at all of the painted t-shirts hanging on the wall, then nodded our heads to each other in realization that it wasn’t the same man we met that night at the club. Since we were already in the store, we decided to look around a bit more. I noticed that these air-brush paintings were different than all the other tacky ones I’ve seen in the past. They were very realistic and the faces looked too beautiful, too "right on" to be on a stupid t-shirt!

I was admiring the art work around the storefront when I noticed a young guy coming out from behind the back room holding paint jars in his hands. I made my way to where he was standing and began talking to him about all sorts of things, from painting to him coming from Illinois. I’d never been more comfortable with anyone in my life, it felt like I’d known him forever. The first time I really got a good look at his face he was kneeling down and re-filling his gun with paint. When he looked up at me we both melted, I wanted to kiss him right then and there. We talked for about an hour before I remembered that I came there with other people and they probably were getting sick of waiting for me. I told him that I had to go and as I walked away down the corridor I told my friends that he was a man that I would marry. It felt real, it didn’t feel forced or phony like all the guys my mom wanted me to marry. He was everything I wanted and nothing that my mom wanted for me.

Her choice in men was nauseating. I was sure that they were either gay or about ready to join the Future Wife-Beaters of America club, but I wasn’t going to have any of that. She raised me as a Jehovah’s Witness and missing the weekly meeting that night gave me my freedom, my future husband, and control of my own life. I’d like to say that it was the last time I ever went back to the Kingdom Hall, but some old habits are hard to break.

After that, we called each other everyday and dated about every other day for the next few months before he had to go back to his hometown after his shop closed for the Christmas season. As a result of this, I was disfellowshipped for spending the night at his business partners house who lived in at the time. That basically means that no one from my

"church" was allowed to talk to me again and that my family had to limit their association with me as well. I was still living in my mom’s house, but she wouldn’t say anymore to me than she had to. I had to eat meals by myself and when my family would go out to eat at a restaurant, or go out of the house for fun, I wasn’t invited. When they left the house, I would call Chris and I could forget about them for awhile. Eventually, my mom found out that I was still talking to him and told me that I had to leave her house in a week.

I had no job, no money, and no experience of the world outside the Jehovah’s Witness Organization. I was at a really low point in my life because of losing my friends, my community, and now my family too. I didn’t know where I was going to go or what I was going to do. At

first, I didn’t want to tell Chris about what happened because I didn’t want him to feel obligated to help me. But by the middle of the week, I still had nothing lined up and I couldn’t hide it anymore. He was mad at first because I didn’t tell him sooner, but then said not to worry that he would take care of everything. And he did, he paid for a U-Haul and that weekend moved me to Shamburgh.

I’d like to say that from then on, it was happily ever after, but it wasn’t, it was just real life. Sometimes you have to dig yourself out of a hole before you can stand on your own two feet again. For years after that, I blamed myself for losing everything I had and tried desperately to get back all that I had lost. I even tried going back to the Kingdom Hall, but was disgusted by all of the "dirty looks" I received and it just didn’t feel the same anymore. I had changed and my eyes were seeing things that I never wanted to before, I guess "light" really is the best disinfectant.

One of those eye opening moments was after I was in a car accident. I was pregnant at the time and it happened about two weeks after we were married. After losing the baby, my mom came to my bedside and said that God has a way of working things out and that I should have expected something like this would happen because of disobeying God. Then she went on to tell me that it was too bad an innocent baby had to suffer because I wouldn’t listen to Jehovah and marry a Witness man. Two elders, who I considered my uncles, wouldn’t even talk to me at the hospital. They told my mom that I was dead in God’s eyes anyway and so they only came to give her moral support. But Chris was right there beside me, holding my hand and telling me that he loved me. He helped me in my recovery and waited on me hand and foot. I broke my hip, femur bone, tail bone, wrist, and two ribs, and I also had to have abdominal surgery because I had punctured my liver. So needless to say, it took about a year before I could walk without a limp and Chris helped me get through it all.

Since then, I’ve had two beautiful children and every time I see them laugh I just want to stay in that moment with them. I used to want my childhood family’s love and attention, so bad that it hurt. But now I look at them and I don’t even like the type of people they are. I know they don’t like me, and it doesn’t bother me anymore. I guess I came to the realization that if those kind of people don’t like me, then I must be doing something right. I know I’ll always love my husband, he’s far from perfect, but he’s a good man.

Living with an artist is not for the feeble-minded. Just as most people would guess, the money isn’t exactly rolling in and it’s been a feast or famine lifestyle to say the least. Although at the beginning of our relationship it was mostly famine, I am grateful for everything I have. In my life I’ve been homeless in the desert (but only for one night), I’ve been on welfare and food stamps, and lost a baby due to malnutrition from eating Ramen Noodles for a month. So it hasn’t been the most glamorous way of life or the easiest, but it has had it’s perks. I’ve lived all over the United States and have met some pretty unique, interesting people. The differences in others excite me and keeps me yearning to learn more. Never knowing what’s going to happen next can be both exciting and stressful. But at least no one can say I’ve lived a boring life.

Chris has had some success in his career, since our own "dark ages", and we’ve both had our work hanging in a gallery in Chicago. For the past eight years, his work has appeared in _________Magazine and other magazines around the world. He has a sculpture in Europe in the _________________________ building, and he’s appeared in the _______________ book which features really amazing artists from all around the world. When we lived in _______, he freelanced for ___________ Animation Studio and did most of the __________ and ______ commercials you’ve seen over the years on television. We’ve come a long way since the days of selling paintings for twenty dollars just to get a cab ride back home, but there still is a long way to go. His dream is to someday have his own children’s show on ___________ Television and a children’s book that will become a classic. I hope all of his dreams come true, but I also want my dreams to come true too. I’ve started school, which is something that my parents frowned upon because they believed this world was going to be destroyed at Armageddon, and it was futile to educate myself in this world’s knowledge. It’s always been my dream to go to school and become an architect and someone who is useful to society. My husband has been extremely supportive of me and encouraged me when I didn’t think I could make it anymore.

So for those who want to know what it’s like living with an artist, know that you will have ups and downs as in any relationship but also that the passion for life and love is incomparable. Artist give everything to create on canvas and paper, from late nights drawing after working all day to spending their last few pennies on paint. It’s always been amazing to me that the people whose legacy will last forever are so often not appreciated in their own time.

The names and places have been changed, but the story is my real life.

love11

Thanks jstalin!

Sad emo

WHEW!! That was well worth the wait! It's really well written and deeply moving. Thanks for sharing it.

((((love11))))

Your life story proves that 'stuff' isn't essential for happiness and fulfillment.

jgnat

What a contrast:

After losing the baby, my mom came to my bedside and said that God has a way of working things out and that I should have expected something like this would happen because of disobeying God. Then she went on to tell me that it was too bad an innocent baby had to suffer because I wouldn’t listen to Jehovah and marry a Witness man. Two elders, who I considered my uncles, wouldn’t even talk to me at the hospital. They told my mom that I was dead in God’s eyes anyway and so they only came to give her moral support.

Yet, the Watchtower is very clear that JW's cannot expect to be spared from the "troubles of this world." Would this woman who calls herself your mother have said such a thing if you were a JW when you had your accident?

But Chris was right there beside me, holding my hand and telling me that he loved me. He helped me in my recovery and waited on me hand and foot.

You had a good eye when you picked him out. I've never had the courage to live off my art. Those who do have my deepest respect. Unlike me, they never know when the next cheque will come in. Yet they are some of the happiest and most grounded people I know.

If interested, read my ENGLISH COMP 1 Essay on Remembered Events

Share this