Flowerlark Studios

Mood: Apprehensive
Reading: Inkdeath
Gaming: Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days

‘Potluck supper Sunday at 5:00 pm – prayer and medication to follow.’ -Church bulletin blooper.

Thank God for Chruch ladies with typewriters, eh? But all jokes aside, what I’m about to say is not very funny. My headaches are back again, as always, so I will be flying out to LA again to see my specialist. They will be doing a very invasive procedure and then running some tests. They will then make another stab (ha ha) at healing my spine depending on what they find. It could lead to spinal surgery, which I’m just a might apprehensive about. I could really use some prayer and medication right now. I will be gone for at least 2 weeks, possibly more, especially if there’s surgery. I also ask that you keep my Aunt Beth in your prayers, too. She was recently diagnosed with stage III uterine cancer and is currently undergoing radiation.

As promised, I will now tell you about the second dream I had in which God spoke to me. To read the first, please go here.

I had this dream during a very tumultuous time in my life. I was very ill (even moreso than now), and close to death. I was terrified of dying, and yet also wanted it to escape the terrible pain I was in. It was then that I had this dream. I’ve heard that people say that if you die in a dream, you will die in real life. This is utter rubbish. True, one usually wakes up the moment before death, but I can attest that one can die in a dream and awaken perfectly alive. For in this dream, I died.

I was in a spaceship, and the earth was gone. I was the sole survivor of a terrible catastrophe that had destroyed the entire world. There was nothing left. Nothing but myself and this spaceship that drifted aimlessly in the vast emptiness of the universe. There was no colour left, everything was white and black and grey. The spaceship was covered in a grey dust that had once been thriving, green plants. The only thing left of Earth was a book. It had a red cover- the only colour left. I held the book in my hands, and was filled with grief and despair. That book reminded me of what had been, and could be no longer. It reminded me of a world full of people, plants, animals, colour, laughter, and music. That world would never come back. Rather than read it and remember things that were no longer, I tore it to shreds. I went to the ship’s hatch and wrenched it open. Without a helmet or a suit, I floated out into space. It was cold. So bitterly cold. but I welcomed this feeling. For I knew that it meant death, and death was far better than this bitter reality. For a few moments I floated free, and then my consciousness faded, and all went blank. I was in this state for several moments before I awoke. And how wonderful it was! I awoke from a bleak dream to a world of colour, light, laughter, people- so many other people!- animals, plants, music, art and all the joyous things that make up this earth. Even though I was in terrible pain, and close to dying, it no longer seemed to matter, because the world and its happiness was all around me. And then God spoke to me. Not in words, of course, but even so I knew exactly what He was saying. He said, ‘That is what death is like, you know. It is like waking up from a bleak nightmare into a vibrant world full of life. Death should not be sought after, but neither should it be feared.’

Sometimes I still fear death, being in such poor health as I am. I am no longer nearly as close to it as I was when I had the dream. But whenever I am afraid to die, I think of this dream. And I know I have God’s assurance that death will be like waking from a nightmare to a world more wonderful than I can imagine. I still don’t want to die- that is only right. You have only one chance at life, and death is for eternity. So even though things are hard, I keep living, and I try to enjoy it. It’s not always easy, for I am a cynic and a pessimist by nature, and have problems with clinical depression. But I think back to that dream, and how happy I was when I awoke. And suddenly, life doesn’t seem so bad.

I’m only posting these ’cause Dad wants to see them. I’ll will most probably delete this post later.

Today I experimented with taking screenshots of my DS. I wanted to find some kind of cable that could play DS footage on my computer, but found out that such a thing is A: very expensive and B: not available to those outside the gaming industry. The best way I could find was taking pictures with my new camera. Out of about 40-50 pictures and one very blurry video, these two were my only success stories. Most of them were just too blurry or washed out. Does anyone out there have advice on taking good screenshots with a camera? I tried many methods, the best of which I found was to have the lights on in the room, the camera set to ‘macro,’ and to use a tripod and something to prop the DS up on so both DS and camera are level. I tried de-interlacing the second one on photoshop, since you can see the ridges… but I was obviously unsuccessful. The first was somewhat blurry, but looked a little better after being sharpened. The other 40 or so were blurry beyond being recognisable.

These were both taken in the game Rune Factory 2.

EDIT: Added two more shots that I took this morning of Nintendogs (yeah, I play girly games). This time it took fewer tries to get clearer shots. I only took 10 photos instead of 40+. I’m still not thrilled with the quality; I think it’ll take a lot more playing with. Most of the shots were of my dog’s butt because EVERY time I took a photo he turned away from me. It’s also kinda hard to get a clear picture of something that’s constantly moving.

EDIT #2: I’m probably going to be adding screens throughout the day. The fifth one is from the original Rune Factory game. Not only is is my clearest one yet, but it’s slightly more exciting. Here we have Laguna fighting the second boss, a chimera.

So, usually I only show my successes, but even the best artists have art-fart days. (or weeks, months, years…). I’ve had more than my share of these, the most recent of which being yesterday and today. I was attempting some fanart, and I think it might have been an overly ambitious venture for my state of current health. I should have known after ripping off and reshaping the legs about 3 times… but no, I kept of forging ahead. The result of which was a very pretty but very unstable dragon. Had I properly supported it in the oven, this wouldn’t've happened! 10 minutes into baking, he fell over in the oven. This is why when you have a standing sculpture, you should support it with upturned glasses, not foil. LEARN FROM MY MISTAKES. After he came out all dented and drooping with a twisted leg, I managed to repair it a little by breaking off the twisted foot and re-moulding it and patching over the dents with fresh clay, then putting it back in the oven for 10 minutes. He’s too droopy really for it to be worth painting, so I’m sharing it with you as-is. Why? ‘Cause I spent so many $#@&! hours on it that I don’t care it if turned into a lump, I’m posting it, danget!! *fume fume fume*

I think that when most people hear someone say ‘God spoke to me,’ they tend to think that that person is not quite right in the head. When you hear someone say ‘God told me something,’ what comes to mind first are stories of people who committed murder because ‘God told them to,’ or sold everything they owned including the clothes on their backs and began a pilgrimage in the nude. So when I’m about to tell you that I talk to God and sometimes He talks back to me, some (or a lot) of you may roll your eyes and think ‘Oh boy, another nutcase.’ For a long time I’ve kept these experiences to myself for this reason. I was afraid of disbelief and ridicule. But as I’ve matured I’ve come to realise that what others think of you doesn’t really matter. It’s not what other people think of me that’s important, it what God thinks of me. And that is why I’ve decided to share some of my encounters with God with the world. And while I’m sure some people will dismiss them as the ramblings of an ill person, I hope that these stories may touch a few people. And if I can inspire just one soul out there, then the hundreds of sneers from hundreds of other souls will be rendered utterly inconsequential.

God does speak to us, despite what many think. He doesn’t speak to me in words, but in ideas, concepts, and images. He often tells me things through dreams. ‘Well if it’s a dream, what makes you think it was God and not your subconscious?’ you may wonder. And this is not something I can really explain, either. It’s something you feel in your heart and soul. You just innately know it, just as you know how to breathe. For me these dreams are often more vivid than the others. I get a feeling unlike any other, a feeling I cannot describe, other than to say that it is filled with love, acceptance, and an awe that only God can produce.

I have had a total of two of these dreams. Not many, but it makes them all the more special. I shall share the first dream with you today, the next at a later time. The first is very personal and difficult for me to share with strangers, but I also feel that as a Christian, I have a duty to share it so that it may inspire others to grow in their faith.

In this dream, I met Jesus. In took place when Jesus was alive. There was a great crowd of people who had all come to see Him. I was waiting with the other women until it was my turn. When it was, I took out the gift I had brought for Him. It was two loaves of bread. I bowed my head and held them out to Him. He accepted the gift, spreading His hands out toward me. And then I was overcome by a sense of peace and acceptance like I had never felt before in my life. Jesus was very pleased by my gift, and He accepted me. When I awoke I knew exactly what the dream meant. God told me that there would be a time in my life when I would give Him two gifts that would greatly please Him. I don’t know what they are, but I know that it will become clear when the time arrives.

I had this dream shortly before my grandmother passed away. It helped to see me through that difficult time, knowing that without a doubt God loved me. I told a pair of ladies in hospice about this dream. And the first thing one of them asked me was ‘What did He look like?’ And I just sat and stared at her. ‘I have no idea.’ I answered, and I was shocked because the thought had never even crossed my mind. And I knew that the reason I didn’t know was because it was utterly irrelevant.

I am legally blind. I can see well enough to get around, but I still run into things a lot. I can’t recognise faces or see very far. And when you can’t see a face you grow up knowing that a person’s appearance isn’t at all what’s important. I know people by their voices and their actions, not by how pretty or handsome they are. It was the same for when I met Jesus. His appearance was so completely inconsequential that I couldn’t see His face. My appearance didn’t matter to Him, either. What mattered was my gifts, and His love. And that is how life should be. When you see a person don’t think ‘Are they ugly?’ instead think ‘Are they kind?’ Instead of spending hours in the bathroom in the morning making sure you’re picture-perfect, spend hours praying or doing some serious soul-searching. Try your hardest to be as kind, loving, tolerant, and forgiving as you can. Talk to God, because you never know when He’ll talk back. Trust me, it’ll be the most wonderful thing that ever happens to you.