queJimenez...a pieced and quilted writing life

Just getting something down.

This is me painting random words on the blank white page of my blog.

I've found that not blogging for a while creates a void that becomes a great white space of emptiness that is at once overwhelming and daunting to speak onto.

Where do I start? I've been living so much.

Am I even talking to anyone besides myself? I'm too irregular to create a "following."

How do I begin again? Is there a again, does the breaks really matter in the grand scheme of things?

Does blogging only work with regular, spaced entries? Only if you set rules.

I have to be honest. My life is too busy and crammed with "just get today's work done" for me to be the blogger I once was, or the blogger I imagine I could be. Instead, I'm accepting that I am just this woman here that can sometimes, and can't others.

The great thing is that in between these long breaks I am living.

I read something this morning by Tayari Jones that made my eyes sting with tears that were not strong enough to fall:

"While I do applaud those writers who have used their imagination to render in fiction the lost voices of generations past, I believe that African-American writers must also embrace contemporary narratives...we must not become so obsessed with filling the pages left blank by an incomplete historical record, that we leave no record of our own meaningful lives. I do not like to imagine my own granddaughter forced to rely on library archives to reconstruct my life because I exhausted my resources and talent pondering the past. At some point, serious writers must commint ourselves as fervently to transforming our own experiences into art."

Click here to read for yourself.

I have been struggling with this very issue the past few months. To the point of exhaustion, I have questioned myself and tried to find where I fit between writing about the past or my own experience. Tayari's words were like validation, permission, and justification all rolled into one. I was so paralyzed with seeing my own reflection in the advice that I could not read much further and instantly tried to find her to say thank you. I found her blog, but was unable to leave a comment of gratitude. I'm tempted to rejoin twitter, just to tell her thank you.

I am scared.

I feel too old to make mistakes and misjudgements and dare I say, not know what it is I am doing. I turned 35 this Feb. and let it pass by with no recognition. Not that I wasn't happy or celebrating my day, but more so because I feel I have so many unanswered question about the 35 years of living I have done. 

So much has happened. So much I want to say. So much I want to express and paint about. There was just not enough space here, or in my heart to dive into what 35 years of living has meant to me.

Anyway, so here I am. I have much more to say, share, etc. Lots of pictures on my CF card waiting to be processed and uploaded. I need time, school is in full swing for me, the kids, and E.

Before I end, and begin later today or tomorrow...I must set some rules. These are for me. 

1. Never a need to "catch-up," always begin where you are.

2. Write because you need to, not because you have to...because you don't.

3. Write to yourself, because you are truest when looking in the mirror, talking to yourself. After all, this is your life.

4. You don't need pretty pictures in every post.

5. Two, three post in one day? Why not? Do you. Who cares about optimizing, etc., this is your record, your words, your life.

6. Ignore the word count. You can write as much as you like and feel is necessary to fully and adequately express yourself. You will read it, and that's all that matters.

7. You can be fully and uniquely you...I happen to like Kiandra...so don't change her.

8. It's okay to shut the world out and talk to yourself.

9. Smile, laugh, cry through your words.

Okay...now that I got that out, I'm happy and ready to move forward.

♥ Ki

Sweats, Platforms, Literature & Homework

 

 

Hey, you want to know a secret? It isn't always easy being a focused student, a homeschooling mother, a supportive wife-daughter-sister-friend, a short person, or outspoken & passionate.

I've had a rough week:

I've cried and lost nights of sleep. I've not been focused. I haven't washed dishes in...I don't know how many days (but I think E has picked up some of the slack). I'm frustrated. I learned the depths of my passion for learning/teaching this week. I'm insanely annoyed every time the phone rings. My back has made me cry too. My house looks like my kitchen sink. We had sandwiches 2 or 3 times this week because neither me nor E had time to "cook" dinner (not even making minute rice, steaming vegetables, and quick-cooking chicken). 

 

I am finding solace in doing what I shouldn't and some of what I should do:

1. I E bought me new platforms as an early "present." 

2. I added a "throne" to my bedding. It vibrates so strong it made me nauseous, and the factory smell makes my eyes water and burn. But, besides all that I feel like it will lessen the time I spend crying over my back aches. 

3. I added two other bed desks to supplement my surfboard that I love and use every time I write a paper. (One of them. The other is discontinued, so I have no pictures.)

4. I'm wearing those platforms (see #1) in bed because when I peek over my laptop they make me feel like a lady despite the paint laden sweats I'm wearing from my maternity days, and the too big, cheap, forever 21 sweatshirt I'm wearing. And the lack of time I had to shower last night, or this morning---that luxury will come when I finish this paper. *They are brand new, so it's okay that I step on my bed with them.*

5. I made my bed though the rest of my room is a total, complete disaster.

6. I ate two cookies for breakfast.

7. I'm allowing myself to have an attitude with my brother for calling me at 1:17 am to tell me he was "thinking about shutting down his fb page too," and "that he is finding his new role as father agreeable" because I have no time for sleep, but I allowed myself a few hours and he called and interrupted them.

8. I'm blogging when I should be writing a paper.

9. I'm thinking about turning on the vibrating function of my throne even though I know it will make me nauseous just because I'm so anxious,  and restless--but still need to write.

10. I'm thinking positively, because India tells me, "Even the day after tomorrow will one day be yesterday."

11. I'm thinking about being completely irresponsible and buying another pair of these platforms in yellow because it is my favorite color, they are comfortable, they make me taller, they make me feel worthy of my age and title as woman-lady. But, I'm sure I won't.

12. I'm pissed at myself for not writing in my gratitude journal for the past 2 or 3 nights.

 

 

 

 

If you've heard that "life sucks--and then you die" you should know that isn't true. There are days and weeks, sometimes months and years, that seem like mischief is dancing on your back, swimming in your throat, and bouncing on your sore knees--but, you (like me), better yet us all have to get over it.

In the end there is happiness in simple things like red and purple platforms. There is also happiness in things like prayer/meditation/positivity. 

I will spend the entire weekend sitting in this pretty bed, with pretty shoes, surrounded by a grossly disordered room, books, research, etc. But I can choose to look over my work and smile at shoes. I can choose to ignore the paint splatters on my sweats and the hairs growing in on my legs, or the frustration in my heart to focus on what is good:

life

Today life is happiness in something stupid like shoes, but always life is worth pushing through...to see what is on the other side. Next week, or perhaps, in four weeks when this class is over I will be stronger, taller, and more sure of who I am.

I will be able to write my teaching philosophy, I will be able to confidently send apps out to graduate programs--knowing that I want to be a professor. Because though I'm having a difficult few weeks...I've learned that I value and respect teaching and learning. The process, when done with reverance on both ends, is simply delicious and worth struggling for.

I'm working hard today. My nose is down, my face is pressed in the bindings of my books, and I'm going to do this damn thing:

Because I think learning is the most wonder-fullest thing in the world. Even better than red and purple platform shoes in the bed on a Saturday morning.

Peace & Platforms...

Ki

What Mami looks like these days.

*Pictures of me, taken by the kids. Click for larger, uncut picture.

I always wonder how my kids will define me. Will I be the mother who baked enough, taught enough, hugged enough, encouraged enough. I wonder who I am to them. Outside of Mami. How do they define me. How will I define their lives.

I have such reverance for my role as mother in their lives. I respect that my daily decisions, my actions will largely shape and define their lives.

I wonder who I am to them. I asked them how they would describe their mother and this is what they said:

nice, funny, always cold, good cook, good baker, writer and reader, a schooler, teacher, knows a lot of words, likes the indices of books, likes dictionaries, looks pretty, a good quilter, a person who likes eating chips, likes her bed, didn't like reading Shakespeare, likes her pet bird Charlie, likes art, knows how to draw, is a good tutor, likes flowers and teddy bears, short, "a little mami."

What do you think about Mami going to school?

Cool and good

What do you think about Mami always doing homework?

Mad and sad because we don't watch Family Game night like we used to. (Not totally true.)

I asked--they answered. As I continue on this road of education I know that I must constantly remember that they are traveling with me, along with E. It really is us four doing this. I may write the papers, and read the books, but the three of them help me, lend me to my studies--if you will. 

I hope that in six-seven years, when all of this is done, they will know that they did it with me. I hope that they will say one day, "Mami was in school, but she always baked for us and taught us important things like quilting, painting, gardening, writing...and how to be silly, dance, and make weird faces." I hope they will remember the many hours I bake for them, in addition to the many hours I study. I hope that they will follow their dreams (currently: she wants to be a writer/journalist and he wants to be a food scientist) because they saw me follow mine. I hope my daughter will see that she can be in intellect, a professonal, a scholar--and a sahm who bakes, quilts, gardens, and homeschool. I hope that if my son so chooses, he will be a sahd too. I hope that they will honor their true selves--however they evolve. 

I hope a lot. 

 Ki

Currently....

*click for larger, uncut picture

1. Homeschooling outside in a mix of sun and wind.

2. Listening to "I would Like To Call it Beauty" by Corriene.

3. Studying for a midterm in my Literary Theory and Criticism class (tomorrow).

4. The kids just finished having both a jump rope contest, and a jump rope/hoola-hooping contest.

5. Thinking (in the back of my mind) about a paper I'll be writing for my world literature class...still haven't decided on a focus, but know I'll be discussing Budhhist Literature and New Testament Literature.

6. Wishing I didn't sneak and eat those potato chips rumbling in my stomach. I do not digest white potatoes well, though me and sweet potatoes are great friends.

7. Trying not to remember that yesterday was the 2 year anniversary of the passing of my sweet granma--the same thing I did all day yesterday. But content that I didn't cry, once, but smiled often.

8. Wishing that I didn't have to download and work on Sunday night's birthday/tea party pics...wishing that the work could do itself.

9. Fighting icy wind because clouds just covered the sun.

10. Wishing that E was home even though he will be downstairs doing his homework and I will be upstairs doing mine.

11. Wishing I would have published those two posts I wrote last week. I'll schedule them.

12. Getting ready to run back to my desk--my bed--as the sun has sunk to low on the horizon.

12. Happy.

Ki

P.s. I will now be responding to all the lovely comments you all have posted, and will make every effort to continue doing so in the future. 

The weekend after unfriending everybody I know, and some I think I know.

*click to enlarge

I did a very brave thing this past week: I deactivated my facebook account. Let me tell you how good it feels--eating dark chocolate covered almonds with cold vanilla almond milk after a weekend of finishing off homework that consisted of: 400+ pages of reading and writing two essays--good. 

The very picture of focus. Color me proud.

I should insert that I am not eating dark chocolate covered almonds with cold vanilla almond milk and that I only read 300 of my 400 pages this week, but the line about the essays is true indeed. I should be fine dining now as I've wasted lots of calories sitting in the same place from Friday night to tonight--reading.

But this is not a post about my insane amount of homework, nay*, it is a post about my willingness to rebel against social media and void myself from the grammar hell and wicked life that is facebook.

Now that I think about it, I take offense that "book" is a part of the name of the very thing that keeps me from reading "books." 

I'll pump my brakes here. My goal is not to bash fb, but instead to share how the past 4 days pfb (post facebook) have been productive, and great.

I realized that there were only 3 reasons why I kept a fb account: nosey, bored, and an aid to procrastinate. 

Most times I was just being nosey about folks' lives because I was either bored, or procrastinating. 

It's funny, I haven't set about creating a New Year's Resolution (untypical), but I have been highly reflective of my life since the new year slipped in (typical). 

I want to spend more time writing, quilting, reading, painting, baking, and gardening. I've spent a lot of time reflecting on why I didn't do these things and I kept coming back to time. School has been the cookie monster of my life and free time is the chocolate chip cookie he's after.

I honestly can't begin to relate how busy life is while pursuing a higher education degree, while homeschooling two kids and having a husband, who maintains a full and demanding job, and pursuing an even higher education degree. Let me say it again, "What were we thinking?"

Never mind, don't answer. We'll both be done this year. This year. This year. This year.

I need to remind myself of the "this year" part. I packed my summer schedule to include six! classes so that "this year" will happen, for both of us.

So what have I done pfb?

I started a gratitude journal.

I started curating articles on readitlater to read in my (non-existent) free time.

I started planning an ongoing art project that involves a vision board.

I got a lot of homework done.

I spent some quality time with E.

I decided to be a part of an upcoming art show. (Yikes!)

I brainstormed some short story ideas.

Not a lot, I know, but it's only been a few days. I think more important is that I don't find myself yelling obscenities at my laptop at people whose faces I don't remember, but names I do...or faces I remember and names I don't...or who I don't remember at all. 

The truth is I found that I didn't really care about most (let's say 90%) of the people I was "friends" with. (I know that sounds mean, but I'm playing the honesty card--cut me some slack.) The few that I care about, I really care about and I'd much rather cultivate "real" relationships with them where we truly connect and not read passing updates of each other's lives. How sad is it that phone calls don't happen anymore? Or letters are not mailed? Or friends don't get together over coffee or tea, but rather fb updates?

I want real friendships. 

Well, partly. I'm a recluse after being married to a wonderful, friendly, kind, anti-social man for the past 12.5 years. E's made me a hermit, but sadly, I have not made him out-going--outside of me and the kids. To us, he's the life of the party, but to everyone else, he's the un-blooming wall flower.

So there. Enough time spent writing on unfriendliness and antisocialness.

I am finding myself in a happy, introspective, learning-center place. I told E yesterday, "I have grandiose dreams and aspirations that feel bigger than my little body."

So here is to finding hidden spaces within the crevices, crooks, joints, bends, and marrow spaces of this itty-bitty body of mine. Space where all of these grandiose dreams and aspirations can find soil and nourishment to live.

Here is to me writing, quilting, painting, gardening, baking, and reading up a storm.

The rebellious nerd,

Ki

*I am reading TONS of old literature...notice how it is bleeding into my writing voice, my diction. 

San bernardino dreams: What you know about writing?

Last night I woke up at around 1:30 am as E was going to sleep. I felt under the pillows for my big, black, nerdy glasses and was instantly annoyed when he reached on his side of the bed for them. You have to understand I prefer to sleep with my glasses on; in fact, I think E pulled them off my face thinking he was doing me a favor, which he does a couple nights out the week. Usually he puts them on my nightstand.

Seeing is everything for me. I see to understand. When I write, I see the words as colors, shapes, or abstract things that need to be arranged like 2D, imaginary, poetry/prose paintings. I love my mind's eye. I should have that printed on a t-shirt. (Don't steal it--karma is real.) When I think ahead about times and months down the line, I see it. It's like a weird calender/life/picture/vision/photograph amalgamation of the past and what I imagine that future month will be. And it is so translucent, so veiled--like gossomer. If I allow myself to linger and ponder it to much--poof! it's gone. Those are my gossomer moments. I've had them since I can remember and have learned to let them float in the space they crave. I know that all sounds crazy, but hey, I'm giving you a peak into a creative mind. Talk to God about it, it's the way I was made.

But I'm going off on a tangent here; I promise I'll get back to the seeing/glassess/sleeping thing.

So I woke up, E hid my glasses, I got them back from him, he started snooring, I kicked him to signal him to turn over, he grumbled then obliged me, and then I started thinking.

I wanted to write a letter to God. I got all Cellie on myself and wanted to grab my cobalt mbp and "Dear God" it. I was writing the words in my brain over and over again. I was stuck on the Dear-God-Comma part. Because after the comma my brain would start writing/telling God all I wanted this year, and how I was being good and focused, and how I thought I was a good person, etc. It started sounding very christmas list to santa to me so I did not pick up my cobalt writer. Nope. You see I had to nudge E again, which always annoy me because he tells me he's just breathing. All lies. And then I wanted to wake him up because I couldn't stop writing my Cellie letter and I thought, "If I wake E up, make him sit-up so he would really pay attention, tell him the letter that I want to write to God, ask his advice--what will he tell me."

*Insert nasty feelings of guilt*

E does not believe we should ever--under any circumstances--ask God for things. He thinks it is not religiously correct. I was already swiminning in religious guilt when I told him before falling asleep at 10pm, "I know that you want to read the Bible together as a family tonight--but my eyes hurt, I'm sleepy, and I need to wake up early in the morning to read classical critical theory."

So anyway, I did not wake E up and I did not mimic Cellie. Instead I watched two dvr recordings of the Nate Berkus show, before watching my favorite insomniac show whose title I can't remember because I'm usually half sleep (ABC 2am-4:30am). In between fast forwarding commercials and watching commercials I spoke to God. Very politely.

I thanked. I expressed gratitude. I aired my desires.

"All I really want," I whispered to the ceiling, "Is some advice--a nod that I'm going down the right path, and perhaps some suggestions and assurance that if I keep up my end of the bargain (working hard) you'll keep me where I need to be (which I know may not be where I want to be.)"

If you haven't guessed yet--I'm still obessesing over graduate school. Not if I want to do it, but if I'm good enough to get in. (I'm insecure and I can admit it.)

In true God style the fan I use to drown out E's snooring kept whirling, and the t.v. show eventually put me to sleep. Soon.

Enter crazy, vivid dream that felt so real it took me 30 minutes to shake out of it's reality when I woke up.

I dreamed me and E went back to the PAL Center in San Berdo where we met and that girl who almost had a chance to date my precious E was still working there (I silently smiled and told myself to remind E that I saved him from her soon as we got into the car.), Dr. Henry offered me a job, Lawrence was being Lawrence, Tammy was being busy Tammy, Jerry was walking quickly from bungalow to bungalow, and everyone was happy that we were still married 13 years later, and of course was pissed we didn't bring the kids. (Where were they at?) They were building a new, bigger Pal Center and the entire orginal office bungalow was being bronzed. Yeap, the whole building.

So there.

I woke up, I read, I ate my toast with mango butter, I told E about the dream, he told me he ran into Lawrence last week, I told him "crazy, ironic--why didn't you tell me," he told me he forgot, the end. Almost.

I went on to call him again and loathe the writing sample I'm thinking about using for my MFA manuscript, then hung up because I needed to "let him do work".

And then it happens. I remember an experimental piece I wrote last summer in a creative writing class at my university. I pull it up, I read it, I re-love it. 

Guess where it is set? The area around the PAL Center. Yes, I smiled a smug smile when I said that out loud as I typed it. 

So now, you are reading my thank-you letter to God. 

I had completely and utterly forgotten about those 14 pages of wonderfulness.

What does this have to do with my big, black, nerdy glasses? The ability to see...duh! See the truth in situations, clear vision, follow me? Let me sleep with my glasses so I can always have clarity in my dreams...hokey I know. But, to a visual artist sight is every-damn-thing. I don't see colors well without my glasses. True story.

What do you know about writing?

Do you know how hard it is to switch from academic writing to creative writing? Do you know how incredible hard it is to have characters show up, trust you, and tell you their stories? Do you know how much of a brain shift you have to do to go from writing critical essays about literature to writing your own literature? Do you realize that I write creatively in southeren dialect (because that's how my characters tend to talk...and hey I'm just the typist) and academically I was accused by my last professor in my Research and Writing class for writing too sophisticated. She actually dared to give me a low A--which I challenged and she changed because she agreed my intended audience needed that sort of language. Do you realize the mental acrobatics and tongue twisting writing I will have to do this year to finish my BA and get my manuscript in order for graduate school?

I know all these things--and hello! that's why I'm obsessed and waking up at 1:30 am acting like Cellie.

But, this is the part in the letter to God when I express gratitude for restoring my belief in my voice and for those gentle gossomer moments, and vivid dreams that allow me to be creative and remember that is the way I'm made.

E is not made like me. I'm not sure if any of the kids have wacky artist tendencies yet, so I am on my own around this house in my skiddish, artist ways. I have artist friends that I are like me. But I also have fellow Type-A personality classmates that are really like me.

I'm an amalgamation, like most people, but I'm just crazy enough to share it. I tell E all the time he doesn't understand what it's like to be an artist-type, because he doesn't. Life is all too easy for him and his type. Numbers are neat...they add, they subtract, they multiply and divide, hell they even do tricks like plathagoream theory stuff and other weird things I learned in AP calculus and physics in '95.

Writing, painting, poetry writing, daydreaming is not neat like the rest of the world.

So before I make a mad dash to University tonight...let me encourage you to do something...

Hug an artist if you know one...especially us word picture artist.

And while your at it, take time to thank God for everything.

Ki

P.s. I have no time for spell, grammar, and punctuation check...so consider me a painter today instead of a self-professed, grammar-loving nerd. Because in all honest...that nerdiness does not come naturally...I actually have to work at all that wonderfulness.

The secret life of books.

 

For the love of book covers, reading, photography, music, and color...this is amazing. 

I just had to add to the craze...and share! 

Enjoy fellow nerds!

Where I write.

During the past two years I've spent countless hours sitting at the head of my bed--writing. It is where I find my words, where I find peace, and where I can daydream to my heart's content.

Because I spend so much more time in this one tiny space than any other place, I've taken on the task of remodeling it.

All my little tutoring money (okay not all...but most) goes into adding color, rich patterns, and loveliness to this room. Most times it's been books...but lately I've splurged and started updating things. The curtains are a cheap steal from Marshall's, the Pavo quilt I patiently waited (a year) to go on sale at Anthropologie, and the duvet and sheets were steals from Urban Outfitters.

I still have so much I want to do--paint my nightstand something bright and daring, make a tufted headboard, make another wall hanging--but I'm loving looking up from articles, books, and dictionaries and seeing this riot of color around me.

It inspires me...and influences my writing I'm sure.

I would never have thought sleeping on purple sheets and looking out purple curtains would be my thing, but I've found that is the awesome thing about color--when you step out of your comfort zone you find a lot of excitement.

So in the meantime...in between time this is where I am. Writing, researching, reading, and writing. Welcome to my world.

♥ Ki

P.s. all pictures taken w/ my iphone...and manipulated w/apps. Isn't technology wonderful?

 

From my Instagram stream...and some keys to Iphoneography Editing for Instagram

 

                   

                                                 "Cloud Bowl"

Taken Sunday morning after a rainy Saturday. Taken with my iPhone4 and edited with tiltshiftgenerator (iPhone), filterstorm (iPad) and possibly Iris (iPad) then finally taken into instagram (iPhone).

                  

                                          "Little cartoonist"

Taken last week, while the little guy was drawing...his new favorite hobby. Taken with my iPhone4, no editing before taken into instagram

                 

                               "An 8-yr old's Favorite Things"

Taken Sunday, we were heading out to do our grocery shopping. I loved how she dressed herself; she layered a favorite tank over an old shirt that has to be a size 4T, then layered a balloon skirt over some new Hanna leggings (we found at Costco!). She's wearing her 1st pair of Tom's, which she wanted because "They give another kid shoes" and she liked that. Accesorized with a favorite necklace and of course her lovey "Elephant" freshly laundered the night before.

The picture on the right was taken with my iPhone4 and edited in Tiltshiftgenerator and (I think) Filterstorm (iPad), before all three were taken into PicFrame (iPad) and finally processed in Instagram (iPhone)

 

                   

                                "Molassess-Spiced Sugar Cookies"

Taken last Friday with E's iPhone 4s, then each picture was lightly edited on my iPad with either Iris (iPad) or Filterstorm (iPad) to try and get the same color tones. The bottom left one didn't behave very well. They were then taken into PicFrame (iPad) before finally landing in Instagram (iPhone).

My iPhoneography Editing Process (Instagramers Slant)

I'm very new to iPhoneography, though I have been using my iPhone for "photography" for years now. I recently saved up and purchased an iPad and was looking for different ways, outside of school, to use it and incorporate it into my life. That's how I stumbled on iPhoneography.

My editing process is very simple. I take the photos and then try to improve them in various apps before I finally dump them into my Instagram stream. I'm still very new to the process, so I don't have many favorite apps, but I do love Tiltshiftgen and PicFrame. I get the most effect out of those so far. I still have a lot to learn with the photo processing apps; they can be fairly complicated and frustrating if you don't know what your doing.

In the short time that I have been seriously trying to edit my iPhone pics I have learned to work with multiple apps in layers. Sometimes the best effect is gained by taking a picture through multiple apps and editing in "layers." 

Here's a typical run down of my process:

1. Take picture and if need be transfer it to my iPad through Photo transfer app. I find that though the iPad has a camera, the iPhone is much more practical and easy to use. Not to mention the iPad picture quality is not as good as the iPhone's quality. Pics taken with the iPad have a lot more noise and graininess, fyi. Sometimes that's good.

2. Once I take the picture I usually enhance it in the iPhone/iPad camera/photo app. With the new ios you can now enhance, crop, and do other minor processing things with your photos. I always try and do a square crop at this stage so that I don't end up processing something I'll eventually have to crop out later. But, if I love all aspects of a picture I don't crop it and take it into another app, see # 5.

3. Once I have my picture, I take it into either Iris or Filterstorm (both on iPad) to try and lighten or darken it, or deal with other issues like colors/tone. I'm no pro here so this is usually where I spend a lot of time trying to figure out how to make it "better" without overly processing the orignal. This is my learning curve area. If it is yours too, search for tutorials on YouTube and the likes. I'm sure there are many tuts. (For me, time is an issue, so it'll have to wait till this Uni semester is over.)

4. If I think the picture will lend itself to tiltshift editing I take it into the Tiltshiftgen app and try and get some great effects there. 

This is also the stage where I would use Juxtapose (iPad) or a merge app (if I had one) to get different effects/layers. I like Juxatopose, and have played with it a bit, but I really want a merge app so I'm on the look out for one of those. A merge app would allow layering or blending two photographs together, while Jutapose does that, it creates a clean, lined definition down the middle so it doesn't give the layered look you'd get if you merged two photos into one. Sounds confusing? I know, sorry.

5. After all of that editing is done to the picture or pictures if I am doing a collage, I take it through the final step before getting processed in Instagram. This could be using PicFrame (iPad) to build a collage, or PhotoShake (iPad), or even ComicBook or Halftone (both iPad). 

If the picture wasn't cropped in step #2, then I take it into Squaready and get it ready for Instagram.

6. Finally, processed and ready my picture will either be taken directly into Instagram for sharing, or it will sit on my photo app ready for it's moment to shine in Instagram.

It is key to not load all your pictures into Instagram at once, save some for times you can't upload pics, and slowly roll them into your feed. The key to Instagram is good pictures, regular updates, and did I say good pictures? That's if you want a following. Some of us do, some of us could care less (ahem, E). 

So that's my beginner's iphoneography editing process (bent towards Instagramers). I have learned to edit before dumping into Instagram if the picture is subpar, but I know there are some purist who believe in minimal processing. And hey, that's okay...some pics I want to leave alone too. But in the end, to me the whole fun of iPhoneography is to manipulate the pictures creatively. Of course not every picture, but hey...why not have some fun. 

And let me reiterate here...I'm by no means a photographer. I'm a nerdy homeschooling mom by day and a nerdy English major by night tutoring freshman comp papers. On weekends I moonlight as a vegan baker and quilting artist. There are lots of resources out on the 'nets to get real tutorials on iPhone photo editing. This is just one woman's process. Take what you can use...leave behind what you can't.

Peace & ♥

Ki

A pieced and quilted writing life.

            

Sunday morning grocery shopping...I still head out with my favorite grammar book, my favorite new jacket, and a "vintage" quejimenez leather bag. Taken by E with his cool, new iphone 4gs and processed in a couple of apps before finally landing in instagram, my wicked obsession.

"They must often change, who would be constant in happiness or wisdom." -Conficious

After careful and long consideration I have decided not to stop blogging, change platforms, or get rid of quejimenez here at typepad. My life has undergone so many changes within the past year and a half, and more particularly during the past ten months, that I have had to take stock of where I am, what I can accomplish, and what I should spend my time trying to accomplish.

One thing kept bringing me back here: This is where it all started. It has been this blog, this ritual of sharing my thoughts, my creativity, my upsets and successes that has directed me down my current path. Although the signs were present throughout my k12 education, I never knew my passion and talent lay in writing, it simply never dawned on me until I started writing here. 

But, I have decided to move in different directions in some ways while also maintaing other aspects of what has come to be known as quejimenez the blog. Most of you who have been a part of my life through online and personal connections already know that I am a full-time Uni student majoring in English. You may even know that I tutor English now. This means virtually no time for crafting, painting, quilting and the likes but more time spent researching, writing, and studying the mechanics of writing and literature. This means less DSLR photography and more time snapping moments on my iphone, ipad, or both. 

This all boils down to one thing, I will now be blogging a lot about writing, grammar, literature, and the stuff that makes us English majors' hearts race. I am that grammar, writing nerd. You know that fleeting feeling of your heart skipping a beat or racing when you realize your falling in love? I get those sort of moments when reading grammar books, stumbling onto great literature, or finding a great critical review while researching.

I know, I know, it's sickening. Who does that? Who falls in love with rhetorical grammar books, and takes copious notes on gerunds? Who else loves punctuation? Anyone? And should I even ask who would like to raise their hands and volunteer to write an essay? 

It's okay. No one has to stand up or raise their hands. (I have a few fellow grammar nerd pals at Uni.) E  informed me last night that he does not care to know about appositives. He said, "not even a little" when I prodded him again and again. It doesn't matter to him that it would improve his writing and help prevent dangling gerunds, he still cares not to know. 

That may sound familiar and normal to you, but to me that sounds like blasphemy of my grammar and writing religion. It offends my grammar and writing sensibilities. 

So here's the deal--my goal is to share my passion, my knowledge, and my experience. Got a question about grammar? Ask me. Need advice on writing a paper? Go ahead ask me. Want to know if you should end a sentence with a preposition? Yeap, ask that too. And by any means if you have a sentence that just doesn't "sound right," I would be offended if you didn't ask me. Sentences are the gardens of thoughts. Were else could we plant beautiful words, raise wonderful ideas, and nurture the thoughts that make us bloom.

            
One of the reasons I love iphoneography...this is a composite of the first picture I took with my first iphone (3g) and a recent (about 2 months old) picture taken with my current iphone (4g) taken through one or two editing apps. These photos are about 3.5 years apart, btw.

With all that grammar stuff said, I do hope and expect to include what few crafty projects I manage, the pictures I take (you are familiar with iphoneography right?), and the creative meals and decorating ideas I come up with between grammar, literature, and word crushes. As much as I love this stuff called English and frequently acquire new word and grammar rule crushes, no one can take English all the time with no colorful, creative breaks. Well, let me just own up to that and say I can't live void of colorful, creative breaks. That is not because my love is not there, but because the heart of me is colorful and creative. (Hince my new obsessions with iphoneography, cross stitching, stlyistically plating the food I cook/bake, and redecorating my humble abode.)

As I get things settled around the blog expect changes to pop up here and there. (You did notice the new blog header, right?) I intend to include some helpful links to websites that encourage good writing skills and that I often refer to when writing (or being a nerd and searching grammr rules for kicks). I'm also planning to update my booklist to include books that I turn to while tutoring, writing, pleasure reading, etc. 

My hope is that through sharing my passion I can help others write better, understand why punctuation and diction matter, and ultimately free those thoughts and ideas growing in your mind's garden waiting to bloom. Writing is complicated, but it is not impossible. I don't know it all, but I do know where to find answers and how to spot problems. In fact, I still have spelling issues of my own; however, I have learned to recognize my mistakes so that I can correct them. Knowledge is power, remember?  

Finally, although the archives are not listed here anymore they are still archived and housed here. So if you had a favorite past post of mines, or wonder if I have any blogging cred (if your new to the world of quejimenez), or are just plain interested in how I got to this point in my life, don't worry it is all still here. I'm working on updating links, etc. It will be listed under the banner in archives and/or "life." 

As always, I welcome your company and look forward to sharing my passion with you all. I hope you'll join me and I can be of some English benefit in your lives.

This is my life--a pieced and quilted writing life.

<3 Ki