Monday, January 18, 2016

Embers of Worth

Blanketed away rests the affirmations of each day.
Substituted only for criticism, mockery, and dismay.

I hearken back to childhood but still there is not worth.
I listen further still, all the way to my birth.

Heavy heart seemed to follow me every step of the way.
Things I've seen, things I've heard, the things I did not say.

This is the day I am given. Only one at a time.
This day I will see my worth. Something of sublime.

Not haughty, selfish, or conceited just looking for myself.
Too long have I squandered this precious knowledge of wealth.

Sitting on the hidden embers of the fire deep inside me.
This day I will know that Jesus has always loved me.

Friday, January 8, 2016

Hey Stranger, Marry Me!?

This one time, I asked a complete stranger to marry me.

And I meant it. I asked in an indirect/direct way though. 

I don't know what his answer is yet, because it only happened about an hour ago...over email. 

An art blog that I follow had new works up today. While browsing I came across sculptures that stopped me in my tracks. After seeing those works, and making sure the artist was a guy, I thought to myself, "I should ask him to marry me". 

The visual weight of his sculptures alone make me swoon. The form he creates, the movement, the emotion, the life in his pieces speak volumes to me. I followed the link in the blog to his website which is in Chinese and English. First I viewed all of his other works. Then I looked at his blog which had more photos of sculptures and some of the preliminary sketches as well. Following that short adventure I went to the "About" section where I discovered that not only is he attractive but he is also about my age, which of course made me want to ask him to marry me even more. 

Upon a length of inner debate (I don't do this kind of thing, ever), I decided to send him an email. I copied and pasted his email into the "To" box and then thought, "I can't just say 'will you marry me' there's no context. He has no idea who I am or even perhaps how I got his email." My email to him ended up being rather formal but at the same time containing a little humor. The email went as such:


Dear Wang Ruilin,

I was immediately captured by the life, the lines, and the weight of the forms you produce. 

My first instinct upon seeing your work was to ask you to marry me. But I knew this was unreasonable. So this email expressing my gratitude for what I experienced while viewing your sculptures will have to suffice. 

Thank you for your time in reviewing this email and thank you for continuing to create. You are an inspiration.

Sincerely,
Sarah Bachtel

I am a little delighted to share this happening here because I feel very proud of myself for stepping into an unknown, even as improbable as the circumstances are. Yes, statistically speaking, nothing will happen. But in the off chance that we become friends because of my quirky email, then I technically made something happen that would not have happened had I not sent that email. In the process of enjoying these unknowns, I am challenging myself to think big and to think better than I would normally. My positive thinking absolutely cannot hurt me. Either nothing will happen or I'll build a few more synapses that will help me in the short and long term. End mini-excited-rant. 

So, I don't expect a response of any sort. 
But if I were to gleefully imagine what his 'improbable' response might be like, it would read much like this:

Dear Sarah Bachtel,
I am flattered by your email. Thank you for taking interest in my work. If you are ever in Beijing I would be very interested to meet you and discuss art over tea or coffee. 

And likewise, if ever I am in (please tell me where you live) it would be very nice to meet you.

As far as your proposal, it is very kind but I should like to get to know you better first.

I look forward to hearing back from you.

Sincerely,
Wang Ruilin

There it is, my quite unattainable and very fictitious response from a crush whose name I don't believe I am pronouncing correctly. 

I do hope you have enjoyed reading about this recent happening in my life as much as I have enjoyed sharing its absurdness with you.


Until next time,

Sarah Bachtel 











Thursday, October 23, 2014

everyone


panic
restless paranoia
like a wild deer lost in the city

flight, I say, flight

running, always running
knowing it's not what I really need
knowing it's not fast enough
knowing I'll always see my refection anywhere I go

shallow breath lending an ear
but I am left more scared than ever
I am left with self
feeling egocentric for thought spent on perfection

label me
hurl your expectations on me
pretend you know what I need
go ahead, tell me you know me

Perhaps then, I shall get it right
Perhaps then, I will be good enough
Perhaps then, I will fit in
Perhaps then, I will be loved

running, always running

trying so hard to please
everyone.






Tuesday, October 21, 2014

-give me-



burning candle in my stale room,
next to the cactus in a coffee mug.
light from behind
projects through my mind.
give me clarity
give me peace


scattered papers atop my glossy desk,
clutter staining every other surface.
there is a light behind me
I feel its warmth.
give me clarity
give me peace


my paints and clay in locations of ease,
maybe I’ll use them today.
the light behind me
wells a tear in my eye.
give me clarity
give me peace


frameless photos of people I love so dear,
expired legal cards waiting near the trash.
the light won’t touch me
or my shadow.
give me clarity
give me peace


friendly letters to respond to,
they've been waiting longer than a month.
the light-
-
give me clarity
give me peace






-Sarah Bachtel-




Thursday, May 15, 2014

A Short Story



I've learned that I don't want to learn much more about myself. The more I'm prodded the more I expel the truths, or at least partial truths, about who I am. When asked a question, I give the truth to the best of my knowledge.

This one time, our family's dog was hit by a school bus. My dad was so upset that he took one of his guns and shot our pet rabbits, killed the chickens, let all of my mom's song birds out of their cages, and dumped my goldfish off the back porch of the mobile home. I was only three but I remember the horrors well. I remember seeing my poor defenseless goldfish flopping in the grass as my sister and mother pulled me inside to get us as far away from that mad man called, dad.

It's no wonder I'm intimidated by men (specifically men I am attracted to or who may be attracted to me). It's the kind of intimidation that set's my walls of insecurity sky high any time one of them is near. I tense and adjust my posture to a straight back and tall neck full of defense, little or no eye contact, and very few words. I let out a long sigh once I or they have left my far outstretching bubble.

When I first met Brian he was moping to a chair in the corner of the classroom during open lab. He's very attractive. But I'm not attracted to depression so I didn't have any qualms in talking with him at the time. I took my seat, which was nearby, and asked him how he was doing. He gave me some vague answer saying that he was hanging in there. I like to get to the nitty gritty of life though, so I said, what's your story? What's life been like for you? He scoffed and gave an answer that mildly resembled the belief that I couldn't handle it. I asked again and he gave me a very brief synopsis. I wasn't satisfied with his brush off answer so I told my story. Then I tried to give him some pep talks and make him laugh throughout the rest of the lab session.

We've gotten along from that day and have become good conversationalists for each other. But a shift has happened where he has become much more bright spirited and I more down heartened. The day I met him was a very good day for me. I was feeling hopeful and enjoying life as it was at the moment. Now that the tables have turned and I am the depressed one, Brian takes almost an obligation to trying to make me feel better. He tries to make me laugh and tells me really stupid jokes just to get me to smile a little bit. He asks me over and over what's on my mind until I relinquish to his pestering and just answer him honestly and fully. I've been holding back from my normal all-out truth and story telling self though, and he's noticed it.

As a youth, while my parents were still married, my dad would beat my mom. He has never been a drinker, in fact I'm sure he has some sort of mantra about alcohol being of the devil. No, he wasn't an alcoholic, he was a ticking time bomb. If my mom said something that didn't sound right by his standards my mom would get emotionally abused, threatened, or beaten; but more so a combination of all three. If one of us kids didn't behave the way he wanted us to behave or if we didn't respond with the answer he wanted, we got spankings with a spoon or a belt on bare bottom. That was pretty much the extent of the physical abuse for us kids but the mental, emotional, and spiritual abuse has been much more long standing. All of this from a God fearing man. I don't blame God though. To put it very mildly, my dad made the wrong choices.

Now that Brian is on the brighter side, I can't help but be attracted to him. The last time we spoke it took forty five minutes for me to finally answer the normal and intentional question, how are you? I avoided it like the plague. I was nervous this might happen, that I would become attracted to him but I wouldn't have a way to escape.

At the same time that I realized my attraction for him he began asking questions that myself nor lady friends had ever asked me. Questions about relationships and what I'm scared of. Am I scared of men? Am I intimidated by him? I panicked inside and shifted in my seat. My neck stiffened as my breathing became shallow and my eyes scanned everywhere but Brian's face. I looked for the answers inside myself. I was at least trying. Soon, flashbacks of my dad, my childhood, the hurt caused by my own father, my distrust for men caused by my dad, and the new to me realization that I was petrified. Absolutely terrified of men. Terrified that I might fall into that same abuse that my mother endured. Frightened by the mistrusting of my own judgment. Fearful that I will never have a love because of my walls of protective insecurity. It took me several moments to speak to him what I had just concluded. There was a pause and the air thickened for me. I sat in dismay as I leaned into the new information. Information I feel I should have already known. This new realization was scary in it's own right and the disappointing notion that I still have so much internal work to do was a daunting thought as well. However, the biggest scare of them all was that I had just shared this deep and inner mystery with someone who I would normally shy away from altogether, a man...that I like.

It is far too much work learning about ones self. However, as much as I would like to avoid the process, I cannot. I would still find new information about myself and others even if I were to never speak to another soul for the rest of my life.










Sunday, March 9, 2014

Stoic Walls


It's not for you it's for me. But maybe it's for you too.


Stoic Walls

You looked at me
a stoic glare.
But I see more than nothing.
I see your blockade
so carefully crafted.
Sturdy brick
and strong mortar.
Bit by moment
moment by bit
you didn't even know.
Now, it covers you
like scaly barnacles
on a majestic whale.
You walk about
in pretend
perfection.
But I see through
the steel plates
that house the
heart so stunted.
The little boy
lost at age two.
No games.
No fun.
No time.
I see you
wrapped in gauze and cast
agonized and burned
marred and suffering.
I see you
in early maturity
I see you
holding fast
to that title
called man.
I see you
struggling
within.
But as it went up
it can come down.
Bit by moment
moment by bit.
Progression from pieces
peeling within.
Scaling back the layers
one by one
dropping the bricks
the barnacles
the bandages.
You know I’m not your savior.
I've got my own sin.




-Sarah Bachtel





Monday, February 10, 2014

Last Earthly Encounter


The writing below is in part a combination of a trip journal I kept during my move out to Oregon and my best recollection of the last bit of present life I shared with my little brother before his passing on 11.15.12. I had previously written an account of that morning with him in an earlier blog but only recently remembered that I kept fairly detailed notes about those last moments with him in my journal. Here it is, just a little reworked so it's not so choppy:



5.26.11

5:45 a.m. alarm, awake, change, wash hair. Seth made a great batch of coffee, poured a cup. I said bye to beautiful, lovely, sweet, and cute Sunshine...then grabbed the rest of my bags. Seth and I drove to Grandma and Grandpa Bair's house and from there we went to the train station. We made it to the station at about 7:20. The train was scheduled to arrive at 7:29 a.m. Well that didn't happen, it was very late, we boarded around 12:20 p.m. (There had been a lot of flooding throughout a large portion of the eastern and western U.S. which caused serious delays. We weren't quite aware of the issues at the time other than the delay being weather related.)

While the grandparents and I waited for our ride, Seth and I hung out till he had to leave to work with uncle Tommy. We stood out on the red brick platform and watched the freight trains roll on by. We talked about the graffiti on the cars, the good works and the less than. We talked about the nearly overflowing cars full of coal that one engine was hauling, where it had been mined, and how sucky that kind of job would be. We commented on how neat the Elkhart train station is with its arches and antique appeal, and about how long it was taking my train to arrive. We watched the lone engines roll by, in near silence compared to the squealing and clanging of the long and heavily loaded transporters. We just enjoyed being with each other for what time we had. Right before he had to leave, Seth pulled out a wad of cash, somewhere around $200, and as he did, he said he wanted to give it to me since I was traveling so far away. He said I could use it as snack money for the trip. I gave him a look like, 'I can't take that'. Then with a Seth kind of silliness, he shouted, "take it in a good brotherly love way". While he said that, he also slipped the money into my pocket.

Sharing smiles, I let out a giggle at the comment 'snack money', how funny. We hugged a good long hug that just about brought us to tears. I don't know why I held it in. He said he was really going to miss me but that he was really happy for me. He said he could never just up and move that far. The thought clearly discomforted him. We walked back into the station where Seth said bye to grandma and grandpa. I walked with him to the door and wished he could have stayed longer, uncle Tommy would have understood. We hugged and I asked if he really couldn't stay longer. He had to go. We said "I love you" so many times...and I watched him drive off in my beat up car with a bumper sticker that read "Princess" in fancy glittery font.

...
I missed a call from Seth sometime after I had boarded the train. I went to the lounge car that now overlooked parts of Gary or industrial Chicago and call him back. He had called me earlier because he had seen an Amtrak train go by while he was waiting at a crossing on his way to our uncles. He was amazed and wanted to know if it was my train. We figured out the time lapse and discovered that it really was my train that he had seen passing by. After talking about the long delay I had and how crazy it was that he had seen my train leave I talked about what it was like on the train, where I guesstimated I was, and the emotions that rise up when someone moves. We talked about Shoshies move and how hard it was for her compared to my move. She had little money, she drove, she didn't know anyone there, and didn't have a job set up. I had a part time job set up and enough money to get me by for a while at least. Seth said he was really going to miss me and that the house was feeling really lonely. He said that he wanted to cry when we said goodbye to each other and that he did cry when he drove off. I cried when he said that. He told me not to tell anyone that he was crying. I agreed and said that it would be stupid to do so.