Wavy Alabaster


Welcome to my open journal. Read, sip and stay awhile. Cheers.

wave of change: chapter 2

wave of change: chapter 2

The moment before it begins. You know, when the stomach butterflies are about to explode up and out through your mouth and your pulse is like the sustained sound of a drum roll from a high school football game. The moment before you know something big is about to happen, even if you are the only one who truly believes the self-hype. Time stops for just a heartbeat. The moment when I hit "publish" on my first post; it was that staccato click that propelled me into the world of blogging and I grabbed your hand for the journey. 

When my heart is set on something, it does rest or return to a steady rhythm until that task, that dream, is underway. When I say or write that I am going to do something, I do it. Or I metaphorically die trying. My words carry weight. I make sure of this. A year ago, I was restless and excitable leading up to the launch of my blog (just ask my man and some of my close friends >> Dana, Sumner, Tara, Sarah, Greta, this is a shout out overflowing with thanks to you). I was in uncharted waters, not sure of the current or the direction it would lead me. As hard as it is to admit, I found myself reverting back to a pubescent age-old question, "will they like me?" Ugh, how annoying. Late nights editing and re-reading lines all to ensure the right picture was being painted. Eventually (more like thankfully), this obsession gave way to my spontaneous half. It was time to listen to Shia LaBeouf (yes I typed that correctly) and just do it. Once the words were published, the work was finally set free, the feeling of relief and satisfaction did not immediately knock down the door of my fidgeting mind. The current was still, a bit vacant even. 

The year following that initial post is where I found relief... and grief and pride, questioning and happiness, and disappointment and success. My continuous wave of ebbs and flows lives on, fluent and connected. It wasn't until this reflection, writing these words, I recognized what it is I yearned for out of this blog: a challenge. This space pushes me out of my self-built comfort zones. It demands proof of my writing skills on a consistent basis. It stretches my style and expands my mind. That blank journal page, this blank computer screen is limitless. It is a boundless escape. There is no judgement surrounding this untouched space. It is accepting of all thoughts, pictures and typos. 

I have struggled lately with what's next. What is next for this blog, and what is next for me and my family. This question plagues me because it is a form of a plague. Contentment has been a lost art form for me in recent years, but now I strive to consciously embrace it. The chosen grind doesn't stop, sometimes it just runs in place and that's okay. I'm learning to accept these calm, almost stagnant, waters. It provokes deep thought. This thought can easily travel down the path of frustration, but I elect to not allow it. When my chosen outlook is overpowered, that's when the support of friends, family and readers reignite the positive spin. 

During one of these needed support sessions, a recently-made dear friend met me for drinks and our conversation still haunts me. She took the question of "what's next" one step, two steps, ten steps further. She required I describe and speak out loud, down to the nitty gritty, this so-called next step. When I wake up, what is the first thing I want to do? What is hanging on those walls? What does my hair color look like? How long is it? What song is playing in the background? What am I wearing? Oh you want to write... okay, what do you want to write about? Do you want to write every day or once a week or once a month? Do you want to be compensated for your writing? Do you want to be published? What pen are you writing with? What color is that ink? These constructive inquires continued and could have filled a book. Who knows, maybe it will one day. 

As a person who loves painting a picture with words, this should be a simple enough task, right? It wasn't. Manifesting the details proved challenging. It was even a bit embarrassing how I had not thought that detailed. One's dream deserves the specifics. Since that night, capped off with delicious chicken tortilla soup and a rye whiskey, I have obsessed over these fine points. These points, when connected will lay the foundation of my next leap. I am not here to leap once, ya know. 

Here is what I have thus far...

I want to write; not only about my journey, but about other's and their leaps. I want to dig and discover what ignites them and the contribution they make to daily life.
I want to stop time for readers, no more than three seconds worth, and make them smile. 
I am going to be writing with my fine point, blue-inked Pentel R.S.V.P ballpoint pen
A SOYIL Candle by Greta, particularly the Rose Champagne or Lavender Chamomile, will be lit next to my journal or computer while I write. 
journal I write in will not have lines. It is this beauty. As much as I love the organization of lines, my writing demands more freedom and chaos. It is better breeding grounds for creativity. 
Ben will read every written piece before anyone else. 
I will be wearing a candy-colored vintage 70's crochet patchwork midi skirt with a band tee. 
My hair will be it's wild, wavy self, bigger even, with blond streaks creeping, coiling toward the natural roots like snakes (insert shiver, I hate snakes). 
The "office" will be wherever creativity strikes. 

Fresh flowers will surround me. 

For now, I don't just make a wish. I manifest what lies ahead and keep grinding until it connects. And at the very least, I can have divine cake while I do it...

Still holding my hand? Cool, hold tight there is a lot more adventures and lessons on this wave. . . cheers to a year, friends.

Cheers, Jessa

Cake look scrumptious? It was. This dark chocolate sponge cake with sweet raspberry compote and raspberry buttercream topped with Bittersweet chocolate, cocoa nibs, and fresh fruit was made by the lovely Justina of Cakeday. It was beyond. Not only did she make a delectable, fresh treat; she made it mean a great deal to me. The words scripted in dark chocolate were born on this blog. Give Justina all the love! Instagram // Facebook

And these photos? Well, you know her well because I have entrusted her more than most to breathe life into my words. Jenn, you are a wonder in your craft and I cannot wait until the day you realize that. Thank you for capturing this past year for me, and for being a large support. It means more than you will ever know. 

// dress, Electric Sky Embellished Maxi from Free People // 

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Pittsburgh Vintage Mixer

Pittsburgh Vintage Mixer