The Process of Being.


 <![CDATA[]]>

The Process of Being.


 <![CDATA[]]>

This Saturday, April 22, I will turn 30 years old.


Content note: mention of suicide and rape.


Frankly, this terrifies me.

All my life, I never envisioned myself living past the age of 28. I figured that either the rapture would have occurred, or I would have killed myself. So you’d think 29 would have been my all-​out panic year, but I spent 29 dealing with a lot of other things.

Now, with 30 at my doorstep, I’m caught in its headlights, awaiting its impact with an ever-​increasing sense of dread.

Before I get into how I’m approaching Stayin’ Alive at 30!, here’s a few life updates.

Employment, marriage, and impending name-​change.

I’m currently working 2 jobs. I’m freelancing almost full-​time (need a designer?), and I’m really pleased to be teaching a graphic design class at my local community college. I guess I’m doing okay, since I’m slated to teach the follow-​up class in the fall. Teaching feels odd, but I’m also really enjoying it. There’s so much to learn.

My divorce is almost finalized, and I’ve decided to go back to my unmarried name: Dani Ward. Once I have the money to spare, I’ll be updating my website and all that good stuff, so stay tuned (it’ll likely just auto-​transfer, so no worries). If you want to help speed up that whole process, there are links to my Patreon account and my PayPal account in the sidebar.

#HaikusWithDani and more.

I recently compiled all the poems I’ve written as an adult (at that time) into a digital booklet, entitled Process. The main set of poems fall under the same title, describing the process of my grieving and coping after my marriage ended. That section is in the midst of the rest of the structure of the book, which hopefully illustrates the process I’ve been going through from despondency to hope. Be warned that topics include domestic violence, internalized fat hatred, rape, and intense depictions of mental illness. You can purchase the booklet from Etsy for $12.95.

Breath of the Wild = Breath of Fresh Air.

Screenshot from The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild. The main focus is of a very large black horse with orange mane and tail, with Link (the main character) standing in front of the horse. The horse is so tall that Link is only as tall as the horse's legs.

I TAMED THE DESCENDANT OF OCARINA OF TIME GANONDORF’S HORSE. His name is Reshef, named after the Canaanite god of plague and war. And yes. Yes, Link really does only come up to almost the horse’s shoulder.

Back when I had some disposable income, I pre-​ordered Breath of the Wild for the Wii U. I’d forgotten about this by the time I went to GameStop to see if I could afford it. What a pleasant surprise. This game is everything I could have wanted in a Zelda game, and I am obsessed. Way to go, Past Me, for thinking ahead! My brief (ish) particular thoughts on the game:

  • Cooking. Omg, I love cooking. I love experimenting with ingredients and seeing if I can get that really awesome sound that happens when you cook something particularly useful.
  • Grinding. This game speaks to the part of me that loves repetitive actions and hyper-​focusing on seemingly mundane tasks. I absolutely love that there are so many things to collect. Gems, insects, monster parts, food, plants, gear, fairies…I’m obsessed.
  • The sidequests. I haven’t done anything for the main storyline for quite some time. I want to explore every inch of the world first — and it’s so rewarding to do so! There are animals, enemies, people, ruins, guardians, and Yiga all over the place. You never know when you’re going to stumble upon a settlement or a Bokoblin encampment or a miniboss. The world is full and vibrant and you’re not punished for not carrying on with the main quest as quickly as possible.

I won’t say much more for fear of spoilers, but speaking of thinking ahead when I bought this …

A studio all my own.

As an early birthday gift, my parents worked together to help me transform my old office into an art studio. My mom purchased most of the organizers, and my dad and I spent a couple days putting furniture together and rearranging the room. My ex had reworked this room a couple of times for me as an art room, but … much like most of the rest of the house, it never felt like it was mine. It felt like I was allowed there, but it was never meant for me.

But this … this is everything I could have ever wanted.

Posted in Fat Girl,