Genieve Dawkins's Blog, page 10

What NOT to Wear & Other Hypocritical Nonsense

Writing 101, Day 8, Expand a Comment

Nothing quite channels “mystery & intrigue” like wearing a sofa throw on your head.

I read a blog post about being called fat in a derogatory manner and it struck a nerve. I probably should’ve left a comment about the thing that irked me, but I couldn’t quite articulate it at the time. I mulled over the queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach for much longer than I should have and finally realized what was bothering me about the post. There was something in there about fat women not being able to wear skinny jeans. Being of larger than average size myself, I was completely taken aback. Who says I can’t wear skinny jeans? I *rock* the rocks out of skinnies!

To tell the truth, it irks me every time someone attempts to tell me what I can or can’t wear, so this reaction wasn’t related to the content of the post overmuch. Why should fat women feel relegated to hiding themselves under shapeless tents in the name of “plus-size fashion?” I keep telling people, if you don’t want to see me in what I’m wearing, please feel free to avert your eyes, but please don’t feel free to tell me what I can’t wear. Immodest clothing is a no-no, but as long as everything’s all covered up and I feel good in it, the fashion police don’t really matter. Who came up with these rules anyway?

I’ve read somewhere that designers aren’t that fond of dressing fat women for fancy events. I’ve even been told by a snooty woman in London that I couldn’t enter her store because “this is a French store” and they don’t stock anything in my size. I wanted to see just how hard this fancy frock design business was exactly, so on Saturday I went to the fabric store, got a few yards of satin and organza, conceptualized my design, draped the fabric around myself a little and started cutting and sewing. A few hours later I had a gorgeous confection, train and all, which could grace any red carpet anywhere. I’d managed “haute couture” in a matter of hours, and it only took that long because I’m not skilled with the sewing machine and ended up hand-stitching a good portion of my little masterpiece.  Even better, I looked exceptional in it.

You’d think I’d have to wait for an occasion to rock such a garment, but every day of my life is an occasion, so I donned it on Sunday morning and went to church. Of course, right on cue, the fashion police came over to tell me that my dress was suited for a wedding, implying I was way overdressed for Sunday service.

A lot of people seem to have misplaced their priorities:

Joel 2:13

And rend your heart, and not your garments, and turn unto the LORD your God: for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness, and repenteth him of the evil.

Instead of focusing on what people wear or what they shouldn’t wear, focus on the state of your heart and your position with God. Instead of focusing on what other people look like on the outside, focus on what you look like on the inside. If you were to meet God today, would He care what you were wearing, or would He be more concerned with the matter of your repentance or lack thereof? Would He care about your physical size or would He focus on your spiritual size? Would He be pleased with your opinions about fat people?

Before you start sugarcoating your disdain with feigned concern for my health and the health of everyone who weighs over 100 pounds or whatever your cut-off weight might be, I leave you with some sage advice from Jesus.

Matthew 7:5

Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother’s eye.

The Veiled Warning

Read the signs, keep looking up

Embrace wisdom, kiss virtue

Pure in heart, in thought, in prayer

Ever learning, a worm am I

Not deserving the manifold blessings

That be mine while I tread this earth

Writing 201, Poetry, Day 2: Gift, Acrostic, Simile

Hint: This is a compound acrostic.

A Coffee Date, Island-Style

Writing 101, Day 10: Update Your Readers over a Cup of Coffee

If we were having coffee right now, you’d know from my pained expression that I’m not from a coffee culture and don’t really get the appeal of coffee dates. It’s just too Euro artsy trendy for my liking. Coffee dates are stiff things, inevitably held somewhere commercial, with the aim of “catching up” with a friend. I did a lot of those in London and got all caught up. To tell the truth, I much prefer island-style catching up. There’s rarely any coffee involved. Being an island girl, my idea of a coffee date is going somewhere comfortable, be it the beach, somebody’s living room, or a favourite casual restaurant, getting some proper food and lots of fruit juice and most importantly, enjoying a good, loud laugh with a friend or two, or twenty. If you can’t laugh out loud, and I don’t mean any LOL foolishness, then there really is no point. I’d just be nodding politely and wishing I were drinking something fruity out of a straw.

If we were having coffee right now, then it’s a fairly good bet you’d be sitting on a couch across from me engaging in a heated discussion over some element of biblical prophecy. I rarely speak of anything else anyway, so you’d have to be one persistent, unboreable, tough cookie with some very non-mainstream interests.

If we were having coffee right now, since it’s already dark, you’d probably be helping me to edit a document or listening to me rant on about my latest project or being made to hold some fabric while I cut what I hope will be a fabulous designer gown. I’d probably be handing it to you to sew the finer details, so if you see me with coffee at night, run!

If we were having coffee right now, you wouldn’t be reading this, because I’d be drinking coffee and chatting (DUH). Instead, I’m craving coffee and trying to catch up on my Writing 101 assignments. Fun, fun, fun. I’m off to get a cup of coffee and maybe drink it outside where I can catch a cool island breeze and get lost in the hypnotic sway of the palm branches. Date over. Bye bye.

Boundaries

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Boundaries.

The boundary wall of the church with its little spikes are clearly designed to deter thieves and wall-riding idlers, but the design and the open archway leading to the building frame the altar and the cross, inviting all to come in to worship.

Psalm 16:5-8

The Lord is the portion of mine inheritance and of my cup: thou maintainest my lot.

The lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places; yea, I have a goodly heritage.

I will bless the Lord, who hath given me counsel: my reins also instruct me in the night seasons.

I have set the Lord always before me: because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved.

Who sets the boundaries in your life? Are your mental boundaries holding you back?

Let the Lord give you counsel by reading His word. Let Him guide you and set your boundaries. Let the reins He set upon your life instruct your decisions. You won’t go wrong when you’re being hemmed in by His protective force.

Love: A Haiku

Love waits patiently

Whispering at your heart’s door

Open up your soul

Writing 201, Poetry, Day 1: Screen, Haiku, Alliteration

The Future

Matthew 6:34

Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

I think we all contemplate the future at some point. We make plans. We save for a rainy day. Those who have children think about their education and their future successes. We look forward to events that will give us pleasure, such as birthdays, weddings, seeing friends and family, etc.

The future is a tenuous thing. In fact, when you really think about it the future is nothing but a promise and a hope. We’re only able to occupy and own one place in time – now. We can’t own the past and we can’t guarantee the future, but we’re able to do something about now.

Thinking about the future sometimes causes people to worry about the unknown and become anxious. Jesus clearly instructed us to take no thought for the morrow (the future). He qualified it by saying that sufficient for today is the evil thereof. You have enough problems to deal with today. You don’t need to start tackling tomorrow’s problems by worrying about things you scan’t control. When we lose sight of this, we start getting stressed. Stress leads to a myriad of other problems and ultimately a less than stellar quality of life. Getting worked up over the future, for good or ill, causes you to stop experiencing the present and all it has to offer. Your most precious moments can slip by and be lost in your quest for an uncertain future.

Relax. Let it go. Be present in this moment. Let the future take care of itself.

Writing 101, Day 20: The Future

Awake, But In A Dream

Writing 101, Day 15: Take a cue from your readers‏

Have you ever felt awake, but in a dream?

“Awake, but in a dream.”

These familiar words conjure up a surreal mental atmosphere.  It’s a phrase alive with imaginative possibilities. I try to grab on to something, anything, but the ideas are slippery. I’m in no frame of mind to grab on to anything. I think it would be easier to write about the times I’ve felt in a dream, but awake, and realize that the waking nightmares of my youth might well lie at the intersection of these two states, but who wants to revive nightmares? Best let those sleeping dogs lie.

Instead, I’ll share a fascinating true story from my family’s collection of strange experiences. This particular “awake, but in a dream” incident is the inspiration for my yet-unreleased novel, “Nothing,” which is based on the elastic nature of time.

When my aunt was a young girl, she had to share the rather unfortunate chore of taking out the chamber pots (chimmy/chimmies) early in the morning, before the rest of the household awoke.  On one fateful morning, she rolled out of bed at the crack of dawn, dutifully collected her chimmy and walked outside into the misty morning air with the intention of taking it to the pit latrine and disposing of its contents as quickly as possible.

However, she stopped dead in her tracks, overwhelmed by a feeling that could only hit you when you’re wide awake in a dream. She felt transported. She felt dazed and confused. She felt everything a person could feel in her situation, leading up to panic, disbelief and sheer terror. You see, she was standing in her backyard, and she knew it was her backyard. The topography was the same. Some of the trees were the same. Nothing else was the same.

Time had changed.

She was in her yard, but there were (people that looked like) slaves running about the place. (We’re descended from Spanish settlers in the West Indies). She watched as a full domestic scene from some era long past played out in front of her. She could hear their conversations and see children and women doing their usual morning routines, but they ignored her like she wasn’t there.

Her fingers went numb and she lost her tight grip on the chimmy. It hit the ground with a loud clang and spilled its contents all over the place. That loud clang ended the experience for her. At the sound, the entire scene disappeared. She was in her regular backyard once again, but she wasn’t going to make that trip to the pit latrine that morning after all. I should imagine they had enough trouble reviving her so she didn’t get scolded that morning.

That story has lived on in my family, passed down by oral tradition by all of one generation it took to get to me. It struck a chord.

I’ve done some research and it seems other people have had similar experiences. What that was, I really don’t know, but I like to think of it as a glitch in time. And maybe, just maybe, a waking nightmare.

My Feet: A Sonnet

Writing 101, Day 17: Mine your own material‏

I had a lot of fun using Poetweet to generate poems for today’s assignment. I arbitrarily chose one of the sonnets it generated, as I found the sonnet to be the poem type that works best with my tweets, most of which seem to be blog post headers.

Here is the poetic masterpiece, very slightly adapted from the original to make it make a modicum of sense:

My Feet

by Opoponax Dreams

Weirdest Food You’ve Ever Eaten?

Double up and See the Rotation

Of “Persuasion” by Jane Austen…

Moment & Motion

Glass, Squared

Pictures of Clothes Pins

Easy and ideal if you’re bored.

The dream begins…

Books and a UK-based publisher…

The Space to Write

And water don’t go well together

The Case of the Missing Goat

Meaningful Songs

A Dark Red Rage: Afloat

The Blood Moon Eclipse: Before & After

Acts 20:19-21

And I will shew wonders in heaven above, and signs in the earth beneath; blood, and fire, and vapour of smoke:

The sun shall be turned into darkness, and the moon into blood, before the great and notable day of the Lord come:

And it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved.

I had forgotten all about this last blood moon eclipse, even though I’d waited anxiously and in vain for the first two due to cloud cover and sunrise. I slept through the third. Ever an admirer of a gorgeous nightscape, I had noticed that the moon was full somewhat earlier than expected and that it was carrying a halo again, this time for two days in advance of the eclipse. I managed to grab a few fuzzy shots of the magical moonscape on the night before the eclipse.

Last night, the supermoon rose and the scenery outside was simply stunning, but I was in church so couldn’t take any pictures. Then came the actual eclipse and I managed to race home in time to catch some of it. I was surprised by how little light the moon gave off during its red phase. I couldn’t detect it with my telephoto lens, so I had to use the much more sensitive point-and-shoot.

As the eclipse progressed past the red stage, I started getting light from the moon again, but it had a noticeable halo and the photos came out fuzzy.

This morning, I noticed the light was strange. It was bright and yellow with a glare that made our eyes go all funny. The sunlight also felt unusually warm. I decided to take advantage of the light to try and capture some morning landscapes. The results were just as lovely as the post-eclipse sunlight.

The light got even better as the sun rose in the morning sky.

Luke 21:25-28

And there shall be signs in the sun, and in the moon, and in the stars; and upon the earth distress of nations, with perplexity; the sea and the waves roaring; Men’s hearts failing them for fear, and for looking after those things which are coming on the earth: for the powers of heaven shall be shaken. And then shall they see the Son of man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. And when these things begin to come to pass, then look up, and lift up your heads; for your redemption draweth nigh.

Writing 101, Day 7: Hook ’em with a quote‏

The Last of the Blood Moon Tetrad, An End Time Prophesy

I was in church when I heard an uproar and saw people running everywhere, so I followed them to see what the fuss was all about. There it was. I had no glasses, but even I could perceive it. The last of the blood moon tetrad that I’ve been waiting a year to see, with no luck on the first three events. I almost missed it because all the reports I’d checked had said it would occur on September 28. It’s September 27 here!