“It is hard work to control the workings of inclination, and turn the bent of nature: but that it may be done, I know from experience. God has given us in measure, the power to make our own fate; and when our energies seem to demand a sustenance they cannot get—when our will strains after a path we may not follow—we need neither starve from inanition, nor stand still in despair: we have but to seek another nourishment for the mind, as strong as the forbidden food it longed to taste—and perhaps surer; and to hew out for the adventurous foot a road as direct and broad as the one Fortune has blocked up against us, if rougher than it.”

Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

I’m in one of those seasons of life during which my Creator is vigorously shaping His clay and my patience is poked, prodded, and occasionally battered beyond all recognition. But after the setbacks, the challenges, the rushing, the waiting, I’m finding the results are, at the very least, favorable. I’ve been both blessed and rewarded far beyond what I deserve in just the past few days and that alone is enough to keep me humble, and to keep me pressing forward.

Leaves, mixed media, 24”x36” 2011

Hello, blogosphere. Today is my twentieth birthday and I have decided to carve out my own microscopic blurb of the Internet specifically for whatever I feel like writing about without rules, except those that apply to spelling and grammar.

After finishing a diligent, though heartfelt account of eleven months of my life last October, writing when I didn’t have to seemed like a chore. But soon enough life stopped making any sense at all and my usual means of expression were confined to color scheme specifications, composition requirements, and due dates. I needed another voice.

I considered the idea of a blog, but it didn’t sit well for a few months. Whether it was the self-absorbed, whiny stigma I’ve always associated with “bloggers,” or the way the word itself drops from the tongue to the floor with a clumsy plop, I’m not totally sure. But I knew every now and then I had something to say, and writing in a journal that no one else will read felt like finishing a painting and not showing anyone.

So here I am. I make no promises of regular, interesting, or sensical posts, but I am aiming to go about this in a [tastefully] candid manner (I decided against an alias to challenge my nerve). I have a feeling that the next decade of my life—my twenties—will be an eventful one.

Here’s to new beginnings.