Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman

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I sometimes think that people’s hearts are like deep wells. Nobody knows what’s at the bottom. All you can do is imagine by what comes floating to the surface every once in a while. 

-Haruki Murakami

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Chaos Until Dawn: The Butterfly Effect

Sometimes I feel tired in looking back, but I’m not sure why. There’s a videogame my boyfriend and I just started called Until Dawn, a survivalist horror drama game where, based on the decisions you make, you carve out the characters’ fate. In one portion of the game, the therapist, Dr. Hill, goes:

The past is beyond our control. You have to accept this in order to move forward. Everything you do, every decision you make from now on, will open doors to the future. I want you to remember this. Every single choice will affect your fate, and the fate of those around you.

I imagine the game creator had an epiphany while contemplating The Butterfly Effect, which the game hinges heavily on. It’s a part of Chaos Theory, The Butterfly Effect–the scientific notion that tiny changes, however minuscule, can “change the course of the universe forever” (Thanks, Urban Dictionary).

As Until Dawn writes, “a tiny butterfly flapping its wings today may lead to a devastating hurricane weeks from now. The smallest decision can dramatically change the future….Your story is one of many possibilities.”

Even though it refers to the game story, it echoes of our own lives, our own stories. We write them as we move forward, sans game programming.

Trying My Hand At Handlettering

Bought a calligraphy pen yesterday–now my sketchbook’s filled with inspirational cliches, looping around looking wobbly and vain.

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Before the pen, I was using plain ol’ watercolor brushes for text. The effect is okay, but hardly calligraphy-esque–the font edges aren’t as sharp, and there isn’t as much variation in the lettering thickness. Here are some illustrations pre-calligraphy pen:calligraphy
Now, I’m starting to combine calligraphy with watercolors. Still working on the lettering. It can be a little tedious, and every little hand-wobble’s recorded in ink, but it’s fun.

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Thermodynamic Miracle

“Thermodynamic miracles… events with odds against so astronomical they’re effectively impossible, like oxygen spontaneously becoming gold. I long to observe such a thing.

Until your mother loves a man she has every reason to hate, and of that union, of the thousand million children competing for fertilization, it was you, only you, that emerged. To distill so specific a form from that chaos of improbability, like turning air to gold… that is the crowning unlikelihood. The thermodynamic miracle.

But…if me, my birth, if that’s a thermodynamic miracle… I mean, you could say that about anybody in the world! Yes. Anybody in the world.

But the world is so full of people, so crowded with these miracles that they become commonplace and we forget… I forget. We gaze continually at the world and it grows dull in our perceptions. Yet seen from the another’s vantage point, as if new, it may still take our breath away. Come…dry your eyes. For you are life, rarer than a quark and unpredictable beyond the dreams of Heisenberg; the clay in which the forces that shape all things leave their fingerprints most clearly.”

Alan Moore, Watchmen