Now that I have the complaining part done (see my last post), I'll explain the other part of this crazy thing called preparing for university.

Let's go back to June. It was a hot and muggy (I honestly don't remember if it was either, but let's pretend just for the dramatic effect!) summer's day when I was called out class to my guidance councelor. To my dismay, it turned out that both of the art classes I had signed up for had conflicted with my schedule. I was really discouraged and disappointed -- I didn't know if I absolutely needed these classes for university, but I knew they'd be a big asset. When it comes to art, I rarely find the initiative in myself to actually sit down and draw or paint. Just taking out that box of paints or that tin of pencils takes more effort than the art itself. Having a teacher kick me into creative mode saves me a the biggest step: starting.

A few days later, through a Flickr group which I visited incessantly while I was supposed to be studying for exams, I discovered a website called TheRebelution.com. Two teenagers, Alex and Brett Harris, had put together this site for other teens, whom they believed the world was robbing of their potential. What struck me about this website was that its message was incredibly simple, and applicable to every area of our lives.

The simplicity of the message was encapsulated in just three words: "do hard things." As the Harris twins say, everybody around us seems to expect the very least from us, teenagers: they expect us to slack off in school, to be messy, to procrastinate, to abuse substances, to idolize celebrities, to get hung up on our body image, to get into trouble... you get the point. The phrase "dealing with teenagers" brings up over 24,000 hits on Google -- apparently, teenagers are an inconvenience that has to be "dealt with." Alex and Brett Harris say that part of the reason that teenagers begin to lead these kinds of problematic lives is because they're expected to. To illustrate, imagine meeting the president -- when you're with him, you're expected to be polite, and you live up to those expectations. When you're living a normal life as a teenager, you're expected to make a wreck of it, and, well...

Boy, did that message ring out clear to me.

There are two ways out of the fix society has made for us. One is to go on strike, picketing Hollywood and mass media headquarters, trying to get them to raise their expectations for us. The other way is to change how we respond to them. It's clear which way is more difficult... and more rewarding. The Rebelution challenges us to rebel against the easy, responsibility-free lives that people expact us to live, by "doing hard things." Things that will stretch our abilities, teach us to handle tough situations, build up our character, bless the people around us. Things that will change the world and our lives in ways that no one expects us to change it.

Up till the summer began, "do hard things" seemed easy -- I hadn't yet found a way to apply it to my life. The answer came as I wondered what I would to with my missing art classes. I decided to take action and spend the summer teaching myself to draw and paint. I planned to work as diligently as if I were in art class, and let God show me my hidden potential. I went out and bought two Moleskine notebooks; the somewhat-over-hyped, legendary sketchbooks used by Picasso and Van Gogh. They turned out to be very convenient and good-quality, so I began to fill them up.

Several days later, still in my artistic mode, I found out about the whole university application process, and I knew I'd have my work cut out for me -- but I decided to go for it. If I hadn't read about the Rebelution, I'd probably have never tried... I mean, who expects you to be one of the 120 people who get in? It's been the toughest summer of my life, but I don't regret my choice. Even if I don't get into the program, I'll have learned a lot about art, how to work without being asked, and how to keep my eyes focused on God in the midst of so much work -- more than art class could have ever taught me.

Funny how God sends messages like "Do Hard Things" just when you need them!

Love, Oksana

Ever since I found out about it last year, I'd always wanted to apply to a certain university's graphic design program. I thought it would be easy; an application, maybe a few samples of work. I was looking forward to a lazy, relaxing summer. However, just as the relaxing, lazy days of summer began, I decided to look at the university's website -- an uncharacteristically responsible decision, knowing me! ;)

Well, long story short, I found out that only about 1/9 of the applicants get into the program, and that a very good portfolio needed to be submitted in order to be accepted. Panic set in. As I skimmed through the galleries of student work, panic grew. I began to look through my previous graphic design work to see what I could find, but it all seemed way too simplistic compared to what I saw on the website. So I decided to start from scratch and see what I could do with what I had -- Paintshop Pro, a sketchbook, and a summer.

I've learned to do things that I thought only the pros could do.

I've also come very close to giving up many times.

I don't mean the first thing in a bragging way. I've just never challenged myself to stretch my abilities this far. I still can't believe just how much easier everything becomes if you just try.

This has been my craziest, busiest summer yet. Out of the 10 items I need for my portfolio, one (which I consider my best) is half-done, 4 are complete, and 5 more are floating around in my brain. Some days, I fill up pages and pages with ideas. Some days I just pray and cry in misery. One day, I managed to destroy one acrilyc painting, one pencil drawing, and two watercolor pieces, before coming up with something passable.

This summer, I need to finish my portfolio, start designing a site for it, and get to work on my sketchbook (one of the required components).

I also need to make the autumn issue of Multi Media Ministry, my e-zine.

I'm designing two logos; one for a website, one for a club.

Plus, I've got to make my mom birthday presents (handmade gifts are a long-standing family tradition).

I'm feeling a little overwhelmed with it all.

Part 2 of this post coming later.

Love, Oksy

I watched the movie "Father of the Bride," the "old" version with Elizabeth Taylor, on Saturday. It was sweet and funny, but I felt a lot of things about it were misplaced. Weddings aren't supposed to tear families apart; they're supposed to bring two families together into one. As cheesy as the movie was, it filled me with a lot of questions. Isn't it selfish to get married when you know it's going to cause your parents pain? I can't even begin to count all the times that my parents sacrificed their happiness so that I could be happy. When I look back those incidents, I'm so ashamed.

No, I haven't fallen off the face of the earth -- I'm still alive and kicking! :) Just not blogging; but that's about to change. I've always been very much intrigued by the idea of blogging, but every blog I've started has failed, and in every new blog introduction I put together, I wrote exactly that same sentence: "Every blog I've started has failed." So far, my blogging record has two deleted general-interest blogs, one abandoned general-interest blog, and two abandoned thematic blogs. And then there's this one.

I won't try to fill you in on everything that's happened while I've been away. I just want to set up a firm resolution to blog as often as I can throughout the summer and beyond. I started up a journal (that, too, has been abandoned for a little under a week, but I'll open it up again sometime soon, I'm sure) and I saw just how therapeutic this could be. I didn't tie myself down to spelling, grammar, or any specific style of writing; I just allowed my words run straight from my brain to my computer screen without filtering them much. I didn't mull over them in my mind until I had nothing left to say. I just wrote. And it was nice.

So this blog isn't going to be some lovely, organized, poetic masterpiece; more likely, it's going to be a mess. But I still hope you enjoy it.

I'm not going to go on to anything of real substance in this post... I just want to re-introduce myself to the blogging world, and, hopefully, this will be the first of many "letters to the world" by which you'll get to know me. :)

I will, however, leave you with a picture I took recently.



I don't know what it is about this one, but I like it. There's a spontenaiety about it; like a glimpse you catch when you're turning your head to look at something else. Although it's a technical, compositional, and Photoshop failure (I've used the word failure a lot in this post, haven't I?), it still gives me hope that, someday, I'll learn to take portrait shots.

Last year, I took Yearbook at my high school. With ever-so-slight smugness, I thought, This will be a breeze for me; I know photography in and out. Big mistake. taking photographs of people was more different than anything I'd ever done before. Being able to catch that special moment -- the turn of a head, the twinkle in an eye, the crooked beginnings of a smile -- turned out to be close-to-impossible for me. My action photos were badly-timed; my posed shots were flat and lifeless. When I hadn't mastered the art by the end of the semester, I decided to crawl back into my flower-and-landscape shell and give up on portraiture altogether. And I've always longed to go back.

What does this have to do with the above photograph? Well, that's what I think all my portraits have been missing. That "in-the-moment" freedom; those little details like the shadow and lighting that naturally fall into place, instead of me painstakingly composing them into their respective corners. I hope I can find some willing models so I can translate that feeling to portrait shots. 'Till then...

Oksy