A few months into 2021 I decided I was going to redesign my website.
I had previously focused on writing, but as my curiosity on computer-user interaction simmered, so did my desire to facilitate a unique experience on my website.

On sharing my ideas with my husband, it was pretty clear to us that I was going to have to take this task on personally.
His experience in computer-user mechanics was like acid to my ideas.
I quickly figured that I needed to step up in order to understand and address the challenges Jeffrey would point out.
🔥
Well, Jeffrey is a teacher. So for every problem he would point out, there was a solution; usually one that led to reading, exercises and tests.
🔥
At first he showed me some remarkable works that other website designers had made, and I admit, this made website designing inviting.
Then he introduced me to a game. On completing the game, I was informed that I was then equipped to create grids.

Then Jeff showed me a course.
I had looked at this free course offered by a canadian university in learning for an earlier software project we had worked on together.
This time, however, it was apparent that I needed to take the entire course in order to write my website.
🔥
So step by step I discovered a new hobby.
I found myself studying for hours, fascinated by new language and the complexity of screen display.
It was only after completing the online course that I really started to plan.

It was a steep trek starting at a solid 3d foundation.
What I was looking to do was create a natural three dimentional webpage with the only tools I had:
Hypertext Markup Language/ HTML and Cascading Style Sheets/ CSS.
My husband suggested I use Java Script/ JS for unmatched speed, flexibity and overall page size.
I declined. I was sure that all the questions I had regrding my design idea had been addressed in the duration of my course.
So after months of critical thinking and problem solving, I can say, that in addition to a website that works, I have the confidence that my husband can take a hopeful approach to solving unique problems with few tools.
I on the other hand have the joy of quietly looking over my his shoulder and taking notes on his code... Well, it is to be expected of one formerly medically trained.
🔥
With the completion of this project I hope for a more optimistic attitude for life for those who visit, a more adventurous attitude for those those who search, and an enduring attitude for those who find.

Do look around.
I hope you find something helpful.

📛

There she stood aghast alert
Still she stood till crowds had left
A choo choo sounding far away
And just one more to end the day

❤

It's better in the shade she said
Shifting slowly to her left
So there she stood
With no one else
Awaiting someone to expect

❤

Again the engines roaring say
Today perhaps might be that day
To see what pended still for her
And see more than this end of line

❤

But thoughts demanded yet this far
That sense again eluded her
And missed him probably by a hair
But sure not he was ever there

❤

Watching clocks unwind
Hearing footsteps fade
Taking in the scene
Till she sees them close the gate
The girl sure not to waste
What a space she took this day
And she chose again
To loll back
Lounging even in the shade

🚇

It is finally spring
With dancing on the ground
And it's the shadow of me
Just me
He sees me as I am
I know bliss in this

♙

Eery, with a dash of fright
And I do try to please
But he knows it all
And gives wind to this
What can I do but not doubt

♙

'Should let it go
This on my mind
It's not a thing to miss
But those who are dissatisfied wince
Saying here is your dream,
What's this?

♙

Brother, brother
Why are you so daft?
"Sister” , wrecked it
Not easy to get back
A new page, you say
To turn a leaf
And we strut
And I take the heat

♙

Some ask if I remember
They ask how it can be
They frown at how those who have much
Can just get more for free

I'm asked if I feel foolish
Like a creature on a leash
They wonder how I am living
Now that all I do is agree

♙

But fear and love don't tango
Lest someone fail or fall
And I've known monsters
And incomprehensible terror
There's no reason to fear you at all

You see,
I'm thoughtful
My joys cliché
I can take the hurt you give

But I know love that's perfect
Is patient
And for this
I go; I'll live

♙

But you, still young
So infantile
You refuse to let it go
I'm standing still
Right next to you
And you still can't stand my 'no'

You promise to kick and scream
Say you don't have to stay
I wish you'd try to understand
How that keeps me away

🌧

He said it was painful to see me so
That tears and hurt weren't his final goal
He leaned in and said he could see what's best
Asked if I had now learnt it or still contest

He whispered softly how it was me
How all I needed to do was agree
Then he said not to tell a soul
That the world hated me;
It could never know

Not an ear was waiting outside my door
Those who saw understood it just had to be so

And who knew how deeply he felt for me
I had lashes and bruise;
but how could they possibly see?

No, this here was born out of care
None else would know and still wish me there

So he said I had to hide the pain
After all, who was it but I to blame

He said it was painful to see me so
Said tears and pain weren't his final goal
Asked me not to tell a soul

I nodded

Only then would he let me go

🌦

I took a walk down stone paths old,
And found that most a story's been told
I turned to trace my own steps back;
I found none else there to tell this about
I thought I'd look both here and there,
Perhaps I would catch a sole voice by ear

But a tap once soft upon my spine,
Now require I expand on who I am.

🏺

Sure of a time whence I could not tell time
Beholding a vase that seems never mine
The train e'er seen but who knows all about?
The day there driving yet hanging around

🏺

I seem kinetic; driven, moved
Where I am, My! Some shift should be too
But when I stop to think this through, 
It's me, the wings; The feet, is you.
To rise is much, does it not seem?
But the flying, It's for you.

🏺

Rest now, dear; 
It's not all dust;
There's still some to see, 
Even just farther up.

For if in this stride we both would not abide,
And panting frantic am I in the reach;
Then carry on with gust I shall,
In hope we both come to what is real.

👣

That kite is flying away now,
Do you still want to play?
Came all this way for the breeze,
Can you still look my way?

Your hair blows so gently
And your eyes flutter so,
And for you to smile is a prize.

I once let go of the rope;
It slipped right past my grasp.
For a moment it seemed, at least to me
That all my joys were passed;
And another, sometime, perhaps even now,
Would love what I had loved;
And these words caught here, twist and tied
Would lie right where they are.

That stammer and scream
Wouldn't take me back.
That bones once whole
Would then crush me as I am.
Then sky would dim on the brightest day;
And a note would I write as I slipped away.

The laughter resounds
And the ground it seems,
is now moving back in place.
As the curtains close on that extravagant display
That now is like made up names.

My last tear drops
And he says to me:

I hear you like to play.
Came all this way for the breeze.
You look very nice today.

And we carry on with my smile
For what He said.

🎐

Friend, what if we'd set sail?
You know the blue's not to far away.
What if you brought ale,
And cracked out scones for the trip ahead?

Wouldn't you like the scene;
To jump in just so you could have a feel?
When then can we leave?
Forests and dunes can't resolve this mist.

For this here is my wrapped up note,
To be tossed out should someone find it so.

And when can you come on by?
For floating notes are my companions now

And do you really need a hand?
For talent lands right where I stand

Should you choose to sail alone, 
Fear not the rain, nor thunder, nor the snow

🌍

Did you find what you were looking for?

Here or there?

What can I do for you?

The same or some other?

Where are you coming from?

In simple direction?
↺
I know, but now do I tell -
Where it's neither there nor here,
The same but in another time;

Where my posture is strained -
And is to you a piece of art?
↻
Did I find it -
Would I show you to look;
And retain by you
A stream familiar, not new?

Did you acknowledge that before
And it's share here today,
What, will I stay,
Affixed to revisit a dream?
↺
Waving
Mist to water on glass
With the humming
Greetings, smiles fading fast
Steps and space
Outstretch this maze
Addressing yet forgetting
Both you
And I
↻
Cares left falling
Wheels and flash
Gaps left attended
Memoirs cast
One for the day
And you're still away
But the notes you signed
Play well your part

💌

She was making no sense to me at all.

Why was she in tears?
What was her goal?

I could see right through her lies;
telling me she had never shared this with anyone;
She had staged this moment with that sick look in her eyes.

How did I allow it to come to this?

Her tone made me feel trapped;
she had led me here, and now I was trapped.
🕸
Trapped.
I hate closed spaces.
The thought of it angers me.
Yet there I was; in the palm of her hand.
🕸
I stared back at her, giving my best frown.
At least she should leave feeling special.
I have that effect on people.

"Thank you for sharing this with me", I said.
"It really means a lot."

At most I was learning about her.
And to think, I didn't even have to try that hard.
She was the one on my terms.

She sniffled.

"Would you like a tissue?"
"Yes, please", she responded,
a light smile shaping her lips.
"Thanks. I'm glad I got to talk about this."
"No problem. You can come to me anytime."
I smiled.

"Cheer up. Let's have dinner.
We can have whatever you want."

There it was.
A look of uncertainty, marking her face, like I had just jostled her backto reality.

Was she expecting something else?
Some deep acknowledgment?
A mutual sentiment?

So naive!
I had spent precious time building her reputation among my most loyal peers,
and this was how she was choosing to repay me?
🕸
I find it annoying.
Weakness is an inconveniencing and embarrassing state.
I would not recommend it.
Those who choose to be vulnerable make an unjustifiable error.
Snot has never been impressive.
🕸
I really can not understand why I would give away copy of my master key.
And to just anyone?

To those who have not come to know me and insist I can do better?
Those who sneak in, pretend to care about my interests, then carry on with their lives?
Even those who treat me like I'm pathetic;
a sympathy marked black hole?
Why rely on some incompetent person?

No.

What people need is strength.
They need to see it.
There can be no room left for doubt.
Confidence is not optional, and only those who see things clearly, like I do, really have a right to excel.
Those who question control are sick;
fixated on a world that does not exist;
bound by their own unfiltered needs.
🕸
She was like that, though.
It is sad.
I thought she was like me;
a driven woman who just can not take a 'no'.
She had all the right tools too: education, smarts, looks;
things people would give anything for -
Apparently, just not what it takes.
🕸
"Um, what were you thinking?" She asked.

What a fool.

🕷

It has been a long day,
thought Harry.
He put his umbrella on the floor and his bag to follow.
At least I ordered dinner tonight.

Bark! Bark!
Ring! Ring!
Ha ha!

Such thin walls.
Should only be a few more months.
Tossing the control,
he turned his attention to his own TV.

"...And finally we can see that the efforts being made are not at all for nothing..."

Buzz!
His food was here.

What was that?

A quaint shadow paused briefly over his sink.
Oh... only the neighbors' cat, he thought, as he closed the window with a sigh.

Crunch!

"Ouch!" Screamed Harry.

What was that?!
⚠
He frowned, grabbing his elbow.
Laying on his counter was a short, dried up noodle.
⚠
Buzz! Buzz!
"Hey! Fried noodle and soup for five?"
"Ah... no. Next door."

Closing the door,
Harry looked around at his two roomed apartment.
He rubbed his elbow and made his way slowly to his couch.
Ah!
That noodle really hit my elbow sensitive spot!

🍜

Entitled,
Jon stuffed the last of the receipts into an opening at the side of his coat.
It was another piece of paper to him.

The meal had been like many others;
His blazing admiration as they shook hands,
her almost nonchalant review of the elaborate selection;
the daunting thought that this was all too familiar,
too easy.
☎
It was on nights like these that an old question summed up his thoughts.
Could there be another way?
This was what he had wanted,
but he hardly did anything new anymore.
Is there more?
Would he be the one to do it,
or was this just wishful thinking on what might be called impractical, undesirable;
the impossible?
☎
Trying to shake the exhaustion,
he walked through his front door.
"Hello, Jonathan. Another late night?"
asked his younger sister as she walked down the stairs.
He mumbled his favorite response as he walked past her towards the hallway.
"Jonathan!" his assistant shrieked,
"You left in such a hurry.
I could not do it all, but I did as much as I could... report on your desk.
Sir is waiting. Go right up", she suggested as she headed out.
He mumbled his thanks.

Another step, another thought.
☎
Jon was eager for his father's advice;
life had started to outpace him.
He had wanted to prove responsibility from the start.
He had studied the reports and had seen the logs.
It had taken much indeed.
His father had given him everything.
If he was ever going to excel, however, he would need a new start.
He would have to do something exceptional himself.
His search for direction had turned out to be entrapping,
leaving him weathered and with a feeling of owing an elusive debt.
He had done much in trying, but results were only meh.
Was this ambition good or not?
☎
A soft knock and a firm response saw him into the main office.

"Ah, Jonathan.
Come, sit.
You must be exhausted.
Flew 15 hours, gave talks, came home in time for the dinner.
My boy, your charming looks give none of it away.
It went well, I expect?"

⏳

It was raining more than it had in recent weeks.
Jon, Ray and Andy stood against a wall watching the rain fall.
Jon, as one who were bound;
Ray as though in protest;
and Andy counting the drops down from an unknown value, hoping it be over as his reward.
💧
No one said a word.
After all they had been walking for a while, each fond of the others' stories.
Each could trace back date and time from their very first meeting.
Each could recite the others' tale with heartwarming zeal and persuading conviction.
Each felt with tears that all moments before then were worth forgetting, and every moment then on had new meaning.
Each had felt confident they could do anything with the others by their side, and not one person less.
💧
Jon had been the first to ask a few days before then about the reality of their progress.
He had suggested that perhaps an assumption of success in later times was depriving them of addressing their lack of it now.
He was growing increasingly alarmed at the futility of their talks and the major lapses of time between them.
He had suggested that their preference for planning had perhaps been therapeutic, but did little in proving it's use.
He had asked his friends if they knew what he had meant by that idea.
💧
Ray listened intently for cues on their next motto. Organized words were often troublesome, like a denial of the wonderful gift of surprise.
Analysis and memory were often expired as unfiltered circumstances were given the day.

Occasionally rewards were offered, giving priority to a sense of freedom from perfection and passive quest for skill.
He often chose the option furthest from the conventional, placing his own word on it.
Analysis of the present seemed quite unnecessary.
💧
Andy observed.
He listened to the news, he read maps, he remembered names.
He found saying less gave him an avenue to do more.
His cautious approach to new ideas sometimes went unnoticed and his expressed desire to explore unappreciated.

He watched Jon, and Ray.
He recalled the five ideas Ray had that had seemed important at the time.
He had considered Jon's idea.
He knew what it would take;

One idea agreed on,
one thing to do,
one time to actually do it.

Though he assumed there was a chance in the future, reality had become increasingly demanding as his abilities greatly conflicted with the possibility of his meeting further demands.
Exhausted from inactivity and lack of attention,
Andy had learnt to devote his time to action that had a benefit on both his friends, and his health.
💧
"What do we do now?" asked Andy as the skies cleared.
"Anything. We're here, and the town is ours!" responded Ray.
"What do you think Jon?"
"Let's get some snacks. It's almost 2pm."

🚱

She poured herself a cup of coffee as she stared across the table.
There was no one there.

The draping floral curtain, the white tea set and the table for two positioned for maximum lighting;
all seemingly affected only by the single entrance ahead.

The small dim room had somehow taken on significance since Rose had chosen it to be her personal oasis; a utopia.

Rose had sat here like this before, legs crossed, leaning slightly to her right;
watching shadows occasionally cross like silent words behind the wooden door.
This was her chance to get away from it all;
A chance so priceless she looked all day for the time to leave,
a time to walk through that door, a time to arrive here.
🖇
Here happiness had no sound and the silence said it all.
Her tarring eyes and aching back rested as demands and errands were ceased.
Here she could say her own name and smile when she thought about it.
Here she could just exist.
🖋
Today she had brought her journal.
She smiled as she looked over one page, then another.
Tapping the edge of the table, she read aloud a question she had written five years prior.
"What do I want to be like in five years?" Rose couldn't recall when she had written that down.
She couldn't remember if it had been here or elsewhere.
She had expressed some ideas then, but now she saw no reason to do it again.
Did it matter what she wanted if she would be happy anyway?
And If others could do it, what made her ideas so special? What made her special?
She had myriad of untouched goals and new a hairstyle she'd been thinking about for a year.
Besides too many words written down now, too many things to laugh at later.
🕚
A phone rang a few meters away alerting Rose to the time.

"I am Rose, and this is my time to daydream. But what can I dream for?” She asked aloud.
Closing her journal, she took the last of her coffee and walked across the carpeted floor.
☕
She opened the door, ending her tea-break.

It's cold now.
Well, colder than earlier.
Everything feels different.
The air, water, me.
The sky looks a light shade of grey;
Its not as easy to tell what the moment suggests.
Not as easy as before.
But what was before really like?
Did I really like it that much?

...

As memories of a time once in my palm slip past my fingers,
I am again aware of the tic-toking beyond my own skin;
The waterfall in the mini fish tank,
the humming of the refrigerator,
the fast car now in someone else's range,
the rustling wind making way,
a door closed shut not too far away.

Any other time would so strip these fleeting perceptions away,
revealing confidence,
igniting purpose,
creating motion.

...

Today is quiet, still.
I hear, I breathe, I feel;
yet it is neither the stillness in each breath and the safety of walls,
nor the waves;
the buzzing so short lived inviting me to simply be thrilled by the chase,
that fully explains what it is now.

Now.

Not before.
Not later.
Now.

As the air suspends the frost,
the vault holds till the second the first flake ought to fall,
and the ground gladly awaits it's turn in splendor,
I think on what I am now.

A leaf in flight.

Saw in spring,
Felt in summer,
Wept in autumn,
awaiting cold arms to blanket and preserve what is.
...
Perhaps I will see my beloved spring time again,
not as the same young leaf,
but even if just one more time.

But for now, I'm in flight.

🍂

It felt like touching dark as shadows danced across the ground.
You crossed my mind right then and the world was bright.
The softness of the breeze as I looked up that day.
The leaves and how I knew that the now was just one day;
The things I had to wait to say,
And my knowing I had to.

I promised this was real.
⚬
But it was like watching glass fall;
Like you were being erased right in front of me.

You looked indifferent; affected.
Was this your new secret?
How would I keep it when I'd been ready to tell them all,
And you still didn't know?
No, I'd promised this was real as light flickered;
danced.
The breeze, it was soft;
and the words,
I had wanted to tell you -

How that page is gone.
A previous chapter.
And the now is to be filled again from white.
⚬
But there was no reason to this.
The piercing ache;
the distant gaze;
stolen time.

You earlier that day,
And the you I am facing now.

How about our established perceptions:
you slightly detached,
slightly afflicted;
And me surrounded by roars and flashing,
asking for a story for the sound of chaos' end?

And isn't reason to make it better?

Yet this is only shadows;
Whispered lines.
It had felt like bright.
But now the angle is slight.

I could see it in your eyes;
The fight,
the fail;
Your decision, my place.

That I could not merely be beside you;
You had to learn to fight it off.
That you had decided to start from dark,
And all by yourself.
What more could I say?
You had tried to find reason.
⚬
I have wanted to start over,
Like in many other things.
Like trying that soup again.
This time not stopping anyone else who likes it for its taste,
Or slapping the wrist that brought it.

It would be like I just knew your name,
Or this were our first day.
It would be like we both knew I were true,
And the past had been true of us some other time -
Most certainly not now.
It could be like we could share again.
⚬
We could sail from fragments and stories;
News, History;
Suggestions of ideals between strangers for contrast.

It would be like broken clocks mended,
And time ticked on.

I could even say what I'd wanted to say before.
⚬
I could try.

Would you?

🕊

For Floral Wall Decor
Your style:
Frame
Flowers
⚘
I used scissors, a wire cutter, knife and hot glue gun to cut, shape and paste the flowers, blossoms, leaves and fruit.

🦋

Sometime in 2020, Jeffrey and I joined a game jam.
Remotely.

There are few things I can compare to agreeing to jam while having limited programming knowledge and graphic design experience.

Our game is called Tree Climber and the prototype was submitted on TO Jam at the two week deadline.
🌳
It was exciting.
Staring at my computer screen for hours right into the depth of night is justified only by the result.
I was expecting my second child then, and I had been taking a lot of bed rest.
The action was much appreciated.
🌳
First came planning, modeling and strategizing.
Then re-strategizing and testing;
working to bring the idea to life.
We used examples, defining our design concept until we agreed on our goal, and what on what our roles were.
I got to play some classic games with my husband as he 'researched' and taught me about game design.
🌳
The challenge I immediately faced as the team's graphic artist, was creating the player animation. We had designed a platform game, one requiring a simple interface and basic character movements.
I intended on painting the different elements, and after researching possible techniques decided to base the player animation on sprite sheets that I was to create.

A sprite sheet is a collection of separate images of an object in different frames of movement.
Viewing these images consecutively produces an animation effect.
Naturally, the more related the frames are, the smoother and more apparent the motion of the object.
🌳
We needed two unique characters for our new two player game.
I decided to only create a few frames, and focused on highlighting the memorable traits that were to distinguish my two characters.
I grouped collective parts, like {head} {arm} {leg} {foot} in separate layers, progressively defining the first charector with my painting program Krita.
I then refered to each of Player 1's grouped parts to create the other frames.

After hours of painting, Player 1 was complete.
Mirroring the completed frames finalized the sheet, so that the characters could face two directions.
I then exported the finished sheet as an image for my husband to apply to the game.
🌳
The two characters are built on the same layering framework, with Player 2 based on Player 1's structures.

🌳