We’re Gonna Try Something

As of now, I’m going to try to post on Mondays, Wednesday’s, and Saturdays. No promises on that, but it’s my goal. I’ve been having a lot of great post ideas lately but no push to really do anything about them. I’m hoping have a goal will give me the motivation I need.

Another new thing I’m going to add is… *pause for dramatic affect* Photograph Friday!!!! I have a ton of pictures I’ve been meaning to put up, but it’s insanely overwhelming. Starting next week I’m going start posting five or so pictures from my MANY albums. I hope you all enjoy them!!!

The Good Ol’ Days

When I was little my grandma would always give us baths before bed because we spent all day playing outside in the dirt. We would rotate between the four or five of us girls while a movie was on. I never really realized until today how amazing a memory that is. Last night I took a bath. It wasn’t super hot outside, but the world still felt like summer. I walked out of the steamy bathroom, took in the feel of the summer evening, and felt just like a little kid again. I’m not sure there’s anything more comforting than remember rocking in my grandma’s lap after an amazingly fun, magical day.

My House

I love my house. From every angle, upside and down, I will always love my house. I’ve never been to a place that lit up the way my house did. A place that was just as green in the summer, and completely glowed with life. I love how it looks in the winter, when the porch lights are on at night and you can see every snowflake in the air. I love how it looks on a late summer night, when the fireflies are dancing among the dandelions. And I love how it looks in the morning, when everything is fresh, and wet, and waking up.

I love how it changes through each season. It starts in spring, when everything smells so sweet. The colors of every flower pop out of every direction. The trees bud, starting the range of color throughout the year, and they slowly fall down onto the world. Making everything just as beautiful.

It then moves onto summer, where the nights only get more beautiful. Around seven o’clock the sun sets just right, shedding a golden light on everything, and amplifies the color all around. The fireflies come out to play and everyone walks out onto the porch to watch the sunset. The pink, orange, green, and purple sky.

On comes autumn. The world gets chillier yet still amazingly beautiful. Leaves start to fall, get caught in the breeze, and float along. Finding their own adventure. Through the whole season I hear the beginnings of new stories… New places to go and see…

Oh winter… Hated by many, loved by few. You turn my house into an amazing place. It’s always still on the outside, and cozy and warm on the inside. It’s safe. Like a big, warm hug. You make my entire house sparkle from ground to roof.

I could go on and on about the things from my house… My secret garden. My portal to Brazil. My evening terrace. The world you live in is only what you make of it. I choose to make mine as magical and beautiful as possible.

The Middle of the Storm

My entire life I’ve loved how beautiful the rain makes everything. How it smells. How it feels. It’s just amazing to me. But what I don’t understand is why people run from it? Sure, you’re gonna get a little wet, and maybe cold, but isn’t it worth it?

I feel like that’s one of the many secrets to finding the joy in life. Well, to keeping your sanity, anyway. God puts us through things for a reason, and we almost never know what that reason is until much later, if we ever know it at all. But, if we keep a look out for the good things, it gets easier to wait. Easier to hold on and trust that all of this crap we’re dealing with is for something good.

What I like to do when life just feels awful is stop and look for the little things that mean a lot. Like, smells that hold a memory. Or something from my environment that reminds me of the good days. Life doesn’t have to be perfect to help you feel happy. And, usually, the happy is right there, waiting for you to look for it.


I love the family that you pick. The people you meet one day, befriend, and never want to let go of. I spent a majority of my life without many friends, but once my family switched churches I gained a huge, loud, loving family that I would never give up for a second. I’ve learned lately that each friend holds a different position, just like each family member does. With one friend I would run down the street in super hero capes at twelve o’ clock at night, and another I would snuggle up too and read with on a rainy day, and be just as happy. Without the diversity of my huge “family” I probably wouldn’t be where I am today doing what I do. I can certainly promise I wouldn’t be a poet and artist.

I’ve had friends come and go, and thinking back on it, it usually hurts. I miss the friends who’ve left. But, if they hadn’t left, I wouldn’t have the friends I do now. I hate the idea of growing up and having things change, but if things don’t change then my family won’t grow. I won’t have more random brothers and sisters and parents. I need those. I need people who will inspire me, and love me, and help me love, even if it’s only for a short time.

A couple years ago I wondered why someone would make friends if they know they’re going to leave someday? Why put your whole heart into something when you know it’ll be broken?

  1. Because being loved is worth it
  2. Because other people usually need you as much as you need them
  3. Because life without love isn’t as much of an adventure

It’s always interesting to me when someone tells me how much I mean to them. I’m an extrovert, so I whole-heartedly love pretty much everyone I meet, but for years I never realized what that meant to people. Other people need to feel loved just as much as I do, and I help spread that. If I had quit way back in the beginning because I knew there would be heart break I would’ve missed out on all the joy. All the late nights with my best friend, all the extra “mom hugs”, and the realization that I bring joy to peoples lives. I think one of the greatest gifts I’ve been given is the ability to make someone feel loved.

Different Angles

Yesterday I wrote about my mistakes, but last night I remembered something that made it all worth it. My best friend and I were waiting in the back for our queue to go up and play for the second time. I don’t know how she felt, but I didn’t feel confident about singing again. Once I started, though, there was nothing that could’ve stopped me. I looked around at the audience and saw a really good friend of mine smiling, and I think that was when I realized that everything we worked so hard for payed off.

When it was over I was jumping for joy (I had a TON of adrenaline built up so I literally did jump around), and when we walked into the foyer there was a group ladies cheering for us. After having such a stressful morning it felt so amazing to feel that achievement. To be able to say, “we did it.”

Now, I’ve performed for people before. Not a ton, but I have. I have never had a performance that felt better than that one, and I don’t think I would’ve if it went as “perfectly” as I’d hoped. What I’m trying to say is that hurt can be good. If I hadn’t messed up a little the first time the second time wouldn’t have felt so rewarding. It would’ve just felt like any other performance. Now I’m always going to remember walking into the foyer and hearing those ladies cheer for us, and being able to hug my best friend and say, “we did it.”

The Joys of Mistakes

Not many people may know this, but I’m a musician. I’ve been learning guitar for two years or so, ukulele for a couple months, and I’ve been singing my entire life. My best friend and I decided to do an offertory for our church (an offertory is some sort of musical performance while the offering plates are passed around), and I was crazy nervous. I was shaking, it was early in the morning, so my throat was already a little off, and I let the stress of something new get to me. I was a little rocky during the song, and totally cut out at one part, and I was devastated. I was so disappointed because it seemed like I could’ve done better. I wanted to crawl into a hole and cry. I didn’t like getting compliments afterwards because I was so focused on how “terrible” I did. (The second offertory did go MUCH better, by the way, and despite what I thought other people enjoyed both of them.)

Throughout the day I’ve had a lot of time to think about the morning. I was listening to the recording of our performance and saw something I made a while ago.

This picture was one of my first attempts at lettering with paint, and (to me) there are some clear mistakes. But something I’ve learned with my art is that mistakes are going to happen. What makes them “Happy accidents”, as Bob Ross would call them, is running with them and seeing what happens next. As I was sitting there, listening and looking, I realized that that applies to music as well.

I’ve been told time and time again that mistakes are inevitable, but I’ve never really been able to see them as “joy”. Now, I think I can. It’s still going to hurt, and I get the feeling this won’t be the last time I’m disappointed, but mistakes are all a part of the process.

“If there were no mistakes that means no one ever tried something new.”– Sophia DeRosia

There. I have no idea if I created a quote the right way or not, but I’m trying something new, so humor me.


Have you ever had a really bad day, stepped outside, and instantly felt better? Have you ever wondered why? I think it’s because of the associations with memories. The things in the environment I’m in transport me someplace. When the breeze hits me just right, and I close my eyes, it feels like I’m back on the porch of the missionary house in Brazil. Or, on a spring morning, when the dew is fresh and the sun is warm, I go back to my grandparents farm and remember playing with my cousins. I love being transported because it reminds me that there is good in the world, even if it doesn’t seem like it.

I feel different things in different circumstances. I mentioned above that it’s good, but sometimes it’s not as good as I’d like. I’m sure everyone deals with that. Suddenly feeling different because of reminders. I think the point of this post, though, is to remind people not to shut out those reminders just because they hurt. Sometimes when we see the hard reminders, it’s tempting to stop looking for the good ones. But don’t. Keep an eye out for the little things that make you smile. The things that make you feel warm inside.

I know life seems dark sometimes, but it’s not so bad when you learn how to find the light. So, my challenge for everyone is to look for the good. Go find what makes you happy. I’d love to hear about some of it when you find it.

We Have Made it to Twitter!

If you want to hear about when there are new posts, new pictures, etc., you can now either use the subscribe button in the bottom right corner and get alerts via email, or follow me on Twitter! You can find me at @Erin_Go_Blog.

(P.S. There will probably be some cool pictures on Twitter too.)

The Golden Hour

There’s a specific time of day that almost always makes me stop in my tracks and just… look. I can’t help but take in every angle. Every change in lighting. Every inch of reflection (especially from snow). This time of day is called, the golden hour. It’s in the morning when the sun is coming up, and in the evening when it’s going down. The reason I love it so much is because it drowns absolutely everything in either gold, or contrasting shadow. It can take the smallest thing and make it a work of art. Especially the things that I don’t expect. This morning I saw some dead plants. But, the closer I looked, I realized that the dew on these plants was reflecting the water, and the light made almost like a glow.