Hello World!

I now have my own blog, it'll kinda be like my online, but edited, journal so to speak :) it'll be fun, and I am excited!! so to start things off I will warn you right off the bat! I am an eccentric, crazy, fun loving person, but I do have my own opinions and I will let you know how I feel about things :) so on that note... welcome to my blog!

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believe that man will not merely endure. He will prevail. He is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance." ~William Faulkner~

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

My Love Of Fall




I love the Season called fall... Everything about it. I love the Wind as it nips at your ears reminding you that jack frost will be coming soon so you better cover up. I love how the leaves turn bright gold and red, yellow and topaz. I love how all the animals start to puff up their fur to stay warm, I love Halloween, I love the costumes, the taste in the air as friends and families plane pranks and haunted houses. I love the mystery and the stories of ghosts, witches... especially the witches, as they cast their spells and stir their potions... yes I love that. I love it all.. and yet I didn't feel that this year. This year there was no gold, no mystery in the air, the taste of magic did not tingle on my lips. The world stayed green. there was no flurry of rich costumes and warm fuzzy kittens playing in the pile of topaz fire leaves on the lawn... I can't wait to see it again.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

The Connection Between Depression And Creativity

While I am working on that other piece (which has truly become quiet the challenged to say the least) I have decided to post some my old essays from my 10th english class. I did alot of research papers dealing with psychology, Of which I found immensely interesting


Tessica Tripple
10th English
2-10-09
 
 
The connection between depression and creativity
 
Since the beginning of written human history, there has always been a need for people to express their thoughts, ideas and feelings though creative forms of communication such as music, painting, the performing arts and writing. There are the individuals who express themselves more than others, using these techniques. These individuals are extremely creative and are usually held in high esteem for their work, ideas and insight on life; these individuals are commonly known as artists.
  The human emotion span is very large and the reasons behind people’s emotional and mental reactions have fascinated the psychology world since the beginning of modern practices. One idea that is becoming more and more recognized is that there is link between creativity and depression.
  This idea first developed it was discovered was found that many artists throughout history had symptoms of depression or had been diagnosed with depression.
But how is this? Is creativity a side affect? Or does creativity lead to depression?

Recently, CNN did a report concerning questions like this after the great 20th century writer, David Foster Wallace, committed suicide September 12, 2008. There are several points in this report that I would like to use and emphasizes, points that are important when discussing this idea.        Dwelling on the same thoughts for extended period of time: this is a way of perfecting ideas, but obsessing over a thought can lead to more complex ideas and emotions. Concerns and problems also become bigger or more threatening in some cases. “It's pretty clear if you read Wallace's books that he was a very obsessive, kind of ruminating guy, you can see it in his sentences. ... They're breathless and they need to be annotated, and the annotations need to be annotated again." says Paul Verhaeghen, associate professor of psychology at Georgia Institute of Technology. Verhaeghen, also a novelist, describes himself as a “somewhat mood dissordered person”. "One of the things I do is think about something over and over and over again, and that's when I start writing," Verhaeghen explained.
Another point that I myself feel is very important is, sensitivity. Being sensitive to their surroundings has been a quality that artists must either have or develop throughtout their career. But can a person become too sensitive? Accourding to Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, professor of psychology and management at Claremont Graduate University in Claremont, California,
the answer is yes. “Such hypersensitivity can lead people to worry about things that other people don't worry about as much,” Csikszentmihalyi states, “and [that] can lead to depression.The arts are more dangerous [than other professions] because they require sensitivity to a large extent," he says. "If you go too far you can pay a price -- you can be too sensitive to live in this world." Becoming too sensitive to surroundings can easily affect a person’s mood. Colors, lights, sounds, the emotions of others, can lead to a loss of ones own emotion control.
And lastly, internal analyzing also helps develop depression. Self critique quickly becomes negative, and when it is added to all of the above, becomes a potentially dangerous concoction.
The idea of a link between depression and creativity has the “the chicken or the egg” question, and many experts have statistics that back up both points of view, but I personally, after studying both sides of this much debated question, have come to believe that creativity can help lead to depression.

Links and sources http://www.cnn.com/2008/HEALTH/conditions/10/07/creativity.depression/index.html
Myers, David G. (Ed.). (1995). Psychology. New York, NY: Worth Publishers.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

This is an unfinished piece that I was working on for an english assignment There is so much I want to do on it now, but I thought I would do a before and after thing of it, let me know what you think!


Now is the time that one of man kinds sins be looked upon and over come. This problem has been present since the beginning of human society and has lead to issues that could have been avoided. This sin We refer to as is commonly known as social
classes, but we will go deeper to say its not the social classes themselves, it is the feeling of pride over another, over looking the clear undeniable fact that we are all humans, all people under one God and sharing one earth. money, possessions and
blood make us who we are, this is the mentality that commonly accompanies the higher class.
Here in america we have a very sharp defined social ladder, the steps are easy to climb and there are not as many obstacles but the difference is easy to see. As a nation we say all men are created equal, but many of its wealthier citizens have forgotten this.
Their feelings toward their fellow men in lower circumstances are negative and can be seen thru their actions. We wish to stay away from stereotyping this class, there are class members that show great feelings of respect for their neighbors, but sadly they are over shadowed by harsh. Money does not change the clear undeniable fact that we are human, and respect should not be affected by this. Lower class work as a way to provide for themselves and their families, and their work often consists of providing for the high classes.

(please keep in mind that this is not done!!!)

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Angel Tears



"We shall find peace. We shall hear angels. We shall see the sky sparkling with diamonds."
--Anton Chekov

•                                                                                                    •                                                                                      •
The small girl watched as the casket was lowered into the earth. Slowly the black and grey clad congregation left the cemetery, leaving roses by the grave. Soon they had all disappeared into the mist. The little girl was still there, staring at the flowers glistening with the drops of rain splashing on the petals. The young very inexperienced preacher walked slowly, eyeing the girl. He had never seen her before, normally he would have gone over and talked to her but he was in a slightly fowl mood. He turned to walk up the hill to the church house.
"Why does it always have to rain at these things?" The preacher whispered to himself.
"The Angels" The preacher turned, stunned to see it was the girl who had spoken. She looked up at him with deep, clear black eyes, her ebony hair framing her porcelain face. The preacher stopped ascending the hill.
"Beg your pardon" he tried to be polite, but his voice still had a edge that only slightly masked his mood
"When it rains... The Angels are crying" Her voice caressed every word that came from her rosebud mouth. The preacher raised an eye brow. "Why would they be crying?" He almost snapped. The girl smiled gently
"Why must mortals always think of death as an ending... The Angels are welcoming back one of their own. They cry with tears of joy for the return of an Angel who has gone through the trials of birth and death... Do not be sad for your father, he is with his own kind" The young preacher gasped "Who are you?" The girl smiled and began to turn away "Do not worry for your father, he is safe with me..."
The preacher started after the girl but he tripped, he landed on his side. He quickly got up and looked around for the girl, but she was no where to be seen.


"He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of Angels."
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
• • •

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Trust and spring....

"I believe everything happens for a reason. people change so you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they're right, you believe lies so you'll eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together" -Marilyn Monroe

This is a wonderful quote but there is one thing that I think I need to say something about....
Only trusting yourself? we're all human therefore we make mistakes.... The trust of our friends is something we can't live without, there is always someone we can trust. lying doesn't do anything... but it does is show us who we can truly trust.


Anyway Here are some recent pictures that show whats been going on around here. The miracles of spring are so precious, I love watching the baby fawns fallowing their mothers and the flowers blooming. It just reminds us that even in theses horrible times, there is still some beauty and innocence in this crazy world.‎
Take the time to walk barefoot in the grass, watch a mama bird feed her chick. And remember Gods love, send a thank you to our father for this wonderful earth he gave us.

"Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair." ~Kahlil Gibran~



























‎"I believe that man will not merely endure. He will prevail. He is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance." ~William Faulkner~

Monday, July 12, 2010

Frog Prince



I see a little frog hopping from stone to stone in the stream next to my horse field. The sun is shinning through the leaves of the branches above my head sending the light like paint splatters on the water. The little frog has gold flecks on his back and his head, he stops to inspect a dragonfly perching lazily on an over hanging weed.
What happen to all the frog princes in the world? I wonder as I carefully scoop up the little frog. I look him in the eye, he has beautiful eyes I notice. What happened to all the good ones? Well?...
I carefully set him next to me on a wet boulder peaking up from the stream, pretty velvet green moss grow up it's sides. Instead of hopping away, my little friend stays by my side... still eyeing the dragonfly sunning its lacy wings.
A new thought comes to my mind... Maybe us girls are just getting to picky. Maybe the princes didn't go anywhere, Maybe it's just that these days us girls arn't willing to kiss the frogs to find our hidden prince... so we just go with the ones that are already available, fast and easy right? But not worth it. Maybe all of the real princes have all been turned into frogs by the world, our society. And us girls are just not willing to take the time to kiss the little frog with the big golden heart. Maybe thats it.
I look down at the hidden prince to see him finally leap at the dragonfly that had been teasing him. As he leaps the dragonfly lazily flies off the weed and up into the sky above, my poor little prince lands in a dry patch off weeds. I go over and pick him out of the weeds ands set him back on a stone in the middle of the stream. I look up to see the sun setting over the hills in the distance. I hear my mom calling from the house, I look down at my little friend. He winks at me right before he splashed into the water. I can't help but smile.... I'll come find you later my little frog prince

Monday, June 21, 2010

English class memories :)



I was going through some old english papers that I did in the 10th grade... I must say that was defiantly one of the best years of my life :) I did this short letter for an extra credit assignment... needless to say it got and A :) lol it was fun and thats all that matters :) Good times and good memories

Dear Santa,
I can explain what really happened during the church Christmas show...
I was standing on the stage minding my own business when the old music lady just assumed that I was a part of the whole thing. She gave me a rob thing and told me to wait with the other kids. I had no idea what was going on so I just did it. Anyway, I got put on the stage, and I pretended to know what was going on. Well, at the very end we were singing Silent Night. It was getting kinda boring so I decided to add a twist to things... I really didn't mean to knock the crib over, and I think Elvis was one of the greatest that ever lived... Anyway, the music lady was so mad that she grabbed my arm and yanked me off the stage. My dad thought it was it was funny... But mom didn't.
Mr. Santa, Please understand that I'm young and am still learning... How am I supposed to know that names like "Crazy Hag", "Old Rug" and "Crusty Rug" and stuff like that were mean? My Grandma calls herself an old hag... Anyway, Thank You for your time and I'm glad you understand :)

Love,
Johnny
(Aka Tessica :D)

I'm so glad I can look back through my old notebooks and remember the good times I got to spend with so many wonderful people, the times I got to walk through the pasture, the years I got to go to girls camp, The times I sat in the parking lot at Walmart talking to friends or kicking back with a mini carton of ice cream... For the times I walked to a friends house and ended up staying till almost 1 in the morning... then having to wake up at 5 for seminary :) staying up late writing essay due the next day.. I miss those times, but I'm glad they happened. And I know that they will happen again... soon :)

“Memories are the treasures that we keep locked deep within the storehouse of our souls, to keep our hearts warm when we are lonely.” Author unknown