Your Supporter, Part 2

I get fulfillment from supporting you. I also require support, I am only a human, like you.

Just because I am not engaging in active battle does not mean that I will never have wounds. Experience should have taught you, not all wounds are visible. Most of mine will be invisible to the eye.  Things you cannot understand because they are foreign to your experiences.

I feel privileged to be the one you chose, yet I often feel inadequate.  Your light is so much brighter than mine.  I often feel less visible.  I feel inadequate emotionally and even intellectually.  I am not adequate to be your support if I cannot answer to your needs or my needs impact you.

You capture people with your stories.  You shine so brightly that others have no choice but to be drawn towards you.  They want to be a part of your story, they NEED to be a part of your story.  I am privileged because you chose me to be with you.  You chose me to see things in you that no others will ever see.  I am probably one of a few not blinded by your light, one of the few that does not want it.

There are times you expect me to be like the others.  You seem so disappointed when I am not entrapped or fawning over your. I might try to be one of the crowd, but it will not be genuine.  Then we are both hurt.  You because it is obvious that I am faking interest, and me because of the backlash the fakery causes.

You will not always see my needs. Even  if you did, most of the time you cannot understand what will fulfill the need.  You will not have the experience. You and I will not always be able to fulfill the needs.  I will do anything to avoid bringing attention to your inadequacies and I will find someone to help me. Even if I have to pay for it.

People overlook me.  Even if I am in need.  They see only your bright light. Finding people who see the smaller and different light of mine is challenging.  Often they are deceivers or fanatics, wanting to get closer to your light.  My time of need turns to defending your back.  You will never see it, and I am left hollow and my needs have not been met.


You ask me for advice. I do not think you know what you are asking… or not asking.  I have not and will not experience what you have gone through.  Yet, I should know what you should do?

Given time, I can find your answers, I can have all my needs filled and I can protect all of the secrets.  I do not always have the time.  You are a warrior.  You move quickly from one adventure to the next.  Seemingly oblivious to those around you.  Making me rush to find the answers you seek.  Wrong or right.  Making me decide who’s need is greater, yours or mine.

I feel inadequate being.

Being the home you need.  Being the lone support for “everyone.”  Being asked to accept things without hesitation.  Being “the one;” that know, that feels, that sees, that listens. Being the rock.

I will do it.

It is what I am.  I cannot do or be anything else.

I might be a diamond in my own right, but even diamonds can be shattered with enough pressure.  Be warned.






Supporting Character


Marvel Super Heroes and their Sidekicks.

I will admit that I am uninteresting to most people.  I am “mostly harmless” and “slightly above average” in most regards.  Certainly nothing that really stands out when you look at me or even talk to me.  I am a Supporting Character and that is what we do.  We downplay ourselves in favor of the stronger character, with the more interesting story.  I am James Bond’s “Q” or Batman’s Robin… well maybe not quite Robin.  One of the many Robin’s does get his own identity after a while, as Nightwing. I am still less interesting than the people I surround myself with.

Right now, I am a Supporting Character.  I support people that pass some sort of instinctual criteria that I have.  I look for the lions in the making.  People who are fighting for their dreams and goals.  The people who keep getting back up after getting knocked down, no matter how beat up they may be.

“Fall seven times, stand up eight.” Your Supporting Character will be there to help you every time.  We will brush you off, put bandages on your wounds and help you find a way to get back on the path.  That is what we do.  We are quite happy doing it to.  It is our way to touch greatness or be a part of something bigger and better than ourselves.

I would not mind being like Robin, getting my own identity after a while. I do have my own story and dreams.  They are not as dramatic as Batman’s, but they still exist.  I have been supporting the lions for quite a while, I might be ready to join them in the fight for my dreams.

It has taken a while for me to reach the point where I want to be a Main Character.  There is a crazy amount of courage required to take the steps.  You have to trust in yourself and know your limits.  You have to have your own cast of Supporting Characters.  You have to trust that your Support System will let you bounce back if you do fail.  So much courage is needed, so much trust.

I know what I am capable of as a Support Character.  I do not know if that translates well to being a Main Character.  I can only hope it is and have the courage to take that leap.  Like many of those that I have supported.


One Flower at a Time

Busy already… or is it again?

I am working on TWO large scale drawings. The largest one is 3ft by 4ft, the largest sheet of paper I could buy at Blick.  It is intimidating to start something so large with one nib and stylus… 12sq feet is huge.  Having painted large walls and theater sets, this is not the largest project I have undertaken.  Just, teeny pen and all that paper to cover.

How does one do it?

One section at a time.

I avoid looking at the thing as a whole, as much as possible.  This section is blossoms or hair or leaves.  Nothing else exists until this section is done.  One stroke, one shape, one flower at a time.

You do have to step away from time to time to asses the drawing as a whole.  Are the parts going to come together properly?  Is this line going to meet with that line?  Are the colors going to work?  Where does this go?

It really is the same as a rough time in life.  Take it one hour, day, week, month at a time.  Do not look at the big picture.  It is immense and intimidating.  You do what you can to make it through an hour.  Then the day.  Then the week.  Soon you have made it through a whole month.  You still need to step away every so often to make sure that you are on the right path, that things are going to fit together.

Life is challenging and happens to everyone.  We all go through easy times and times that test our abilities to cope.

I have an outlet for these things.  I draw it, or representations of it.  I am very thankful for this.

Not everyone has an outlet that is healthy.  People get into drugs, sex and violence.

I know I am not equipped to help much.  I can be an ear, an arm, a rock.  Each of us can do little things to help those in our circle.  In the end it is up to each person to live their life.  To draw their own picture.

Letting someone help with your drawing is hard.  You are letting someone else’s “soul” touch yours.  Even the tiniest bit of help will change your drawing.  It is hard to step away from the drawing long enough to check the progress and see if the help is working.

Yet it must be done so you can see if things are where they should be.

Work on your drawing, one flower at a time.


Hydrangeas! Lots of them. This is just one corner. I just started planning out the 1/3rd of the drawing.

Fight On!

For some reason Chobits popped into my head on my way home.

Chobits is an anime and manga about a robotic girl who has lost her memory.  She is picked up by an introverted guy taken home and repaired.  It is actually a good show.  Mostly about self discovery than anything weird or creepy.  I enjoyed it.

There is an episode where the robot girl, Chi, helps her new owner focus on his work by cheering him on.  She punches up into the air and shouts “Fight-O!” every time the guy gets tired or distracted.

Typing this up I remembered why this came into my head.


You can do it!  …I think my people are getting a bit better.

I have a friend who is working his butt off to reach his goals.  I am honored to know him.  I am not at the stage where I am willing to put everything on the line for a dream (it’s also not how I generally work.)  I want to support him and everyone who is doing everything they can to make their dreams come true.

This post is for everyone who is working their buns off to reach their goals.

Fight On!

You can do it!

We support you!



Yesterday I realized that last week was pretty negative.  I did get some funny stuff out of it, but it was still negative.

This week we are going to try a be a bit more positive… maybe.

I drew a bunch of stuff over the weekend.  If I get really busy I will use them for posts.  My goal is still to try to do a drawing everyday, even if it does not get posted.


“As long as you are moving it is easier to steer. ~unk”
Friends are always willing to give you a push to help you get moving so you can make a course change.

Tonight’s drawing I started on yesterday.  It looks WAAAY better once it was inked than it did in pencil.  The children were horrible and fat, no eyes and shapeless.  They are still not perfect, but I am going to just accept that I may never be a good drawer of people.

This is a tribute to some friends that are having a rough time of it lately.

I just want them to know that they have friends who care about them and we will totally push their soap box car until they are able to move under their own power.

Sorry it is so small.  It will not get bigger without rotating 😦

Remembering: A September 11th Story

This is the day for everyone in the US to post memories of where they were and what they were doing on September 11th, 2001. Much like older generations do for the moon landing, D-Day or Women’s Suffrage. Usually I am just get irritated about all the “patriotism” that is thrown around. People who do not have any real connection to the event using this as an excuse to fly the US colors, like it is the 4th of July. People remembering the way their friend reacted to the loss of a friend of a friend. It just makes me roll my eyes, band-wagoner’s.

americanflag-shutterstock-615x345This year I am going to push aside my irritation and share my story. Usually I do not care to remember what happened. Not because I want to forget, or that I place no value on the lives of those that died or served during the event. I do not care to remember because nothing happened to me or those that I was(am) friends with.

At the time I was stationed at Bolling AFB. A base a few miles from the Pentagon. Home of two alternative targets, the DIA and the tallest dorm in the AF (since removed from what I understand.)

On September 11th, I was closing up my till from a long and quite night at the Military hotel I was stationed at. I was in my blues (Air Force business uniform for peace time operations,) and I my only concerned was ensuring my cash transactions balanced. I went to the gym after I got off and then went to my dorm and went to bed. A normal day for me.

I was awoken when my mom called to make sure I was okay. I had no clue what was going on. Everything happened while I was asleep. I turned on the news and got a quick sight of what happened. Once I confirmed with my mom that I was alright, and would remain so, I called my friends that worked near the Pentagon. Thankfully they were alright. I called my supervisor to make sure that our schedules had not changed and went to bed. It was going to be a long night.

That is my September 11th story.

Kind of anti-climactic right? There are hundreds if not thousands of us that have similar stories.

My life did not change greatly after this event. My uniform and schedule changed. Our base was on lock down afterwards. My mission went from getting rooms for vacationing military to finding rooms for exhausted rescuers. Over all my routine and life did not change any more than that of a new enlisted person at any other military installation on the west coast did (yes the others side of the country reacted as well.) The only real difference for a east coast base and west coast base was how long we were on lock-down and how long we screened people and vehicles. I still saw and interacted with the world the same way.

Now, one must understand that I was living In DC. Right after 9/11 we had the anthrax mail terrorist issues and the DC Sniper. Both had more of an impact on my daily life and the routine on the base than the events of 9/11.

Thanks to September 11th, I was no longer at a non-deployable base. I was able to go to Germany and Iraq. I served as an augmentee for Security Forces (AF Police.) I met so many new people, and new types of people that I would never have met. I learned more during that time and subsequent deployments than I would have ever learned before the event.

To me (and many others) the events that occurred during the latter half of 2001 were a wake-up call. A punch in the face to a country that had been dozing. The Military had to step up its game. US Citizens, those who normally hated anything “patriotic” especially, started to realize that they belonged to a nation, and that they had been sleeping, ignoring the world.

camp-fire1Remembering does nothing, it is passive not active.

It has been some time since all of this took place. We still “sit around the fire” and talk about where we were 10, 11, 12, 13 years ago. Each year the feelings that we draw upon get dimmer and dimmer. All those that realized they were a part of a nation have gone back to dozing. The US Government has started to doze as well, feeling safe in the knowledge that the events are over and that it has apprehended the culprit(s.)

Today, September 11th is just another day for people to wonder why. Why do we have this day off? Why is it on the calendar? What are we remembering? Why does it need to be remembered? September 11th is a ‘thing’ for people to use as a tool that is warped to suit their agendas. We have lost the feeling of brotherhood that we had as a nation. We have lost the faith and trust we had in our government. We are back to dozing, waiting for someone to punch us in the face again.

This is why I do not “celebrate” September 11th. It has no meaning any more. It is just another day, one of three hundred sixty-five days.

New Art Project: Help Needed!

I have a large art project brewing in my noggin.  I have been “building” it for a few years now.  I have the “how” all worked out.  Now I just need some information, someone to take it when I am done and a clean garage to build it in.  It is going to be rather large.

My art piece is going to be a “installation” piece.  Big and interactive.  Sitting in a chair on the bottom left you will see yourself in “the pit of despair” or the bottom of the proverbial pit. The lowest your life could go.  In the top right corner (accessible by a ladder or similar) will be the person who is offering to help by the means of a rope down a hole.

Looking up you will see a tiny spot of life and a rope leading to it.  From the top you will see a deep pit but nothing that is in it.  My goal is to show what it looks like from a person who is at the bottom of their life from two points of view.  The victim and the supporter.  To do this I need some more information.


I have not had anything really bad happen to me.  I have never been at the bottom of a pit, with the feeling that I could not get out.  I am usually the supporter, trying to help people out of the pit, with a bit of rope.  It is hard to show something when you have not experienced it. 

I have many friends my spouse and I have helped over the years.  I know what it is like to help. It is hard.  All of these experiences have accumulated into this desire to create an art piece that will show others who have not been in either situation what it is like.

What I Need:

This is going to come out inconsiderate. I apologize in advance.  I am trying to understand and build something, not offend anyone who is willing to help.

I need to know about your experiences at either end of the spectrum. 

What was it like to be at the bottom of the pit?  What did you feel / see / hear / understand? How did it effect your view of the world and the people that were trying to help?

What was it like to watch someone falling or struggling at the bottom of the pit? What did you feel / see / hear / understand? How did it effect your view of the world and the people that you wanted to help?  What did it change in you?

Here is the really insensitive bit.  I do not NEED the whole story.  I will take the whole story and work it into the piece, if you want to share it.  You do not HAVE to share the whole thing if you do not want.  My real interest is the feelings and how it changed your perception of the world, during and even after.

I will not share your story or information without your consent.  Take whatever steps you wish to ensure your security. I am not interested in injuring anyone over this.

Second Thing I Need:

I do not want to keep this when I am done.  I am making it to share with others.  I will need some help finding it a home.


Thank you for reading my post today.  Thank you, if you choose to send anything my way.


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