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,