In the studio: Black & White & Wet Laundry

Just this, this week! I love this picture, both in color and this version. Probably cause it makes me think of Colorado home.

I have been published the past few years in this journal, ever since one of my professors urged me to send in some of my writing. This year I decided, why not send in a few photos I’ve taken, too?

I wanted to write something new.. unfortunately I did not finish it in time, and so I sent in an edited section of my senior honors project. I do love that little piece, but it seems lame to me to send in something old… I should be writing new things, sending them more places, setting aside consistent time for writing.. so that I can consider myself a writer, not a “has written.”

An artist wouldn’t be such a procrastinator, like I am, or put things together in such a haphazard manner, like I do. Right? 

Friends, don’t hesitate to call yourself what you are! This is who I am, what I do, and what if it doesn’t look like what anyone else does? It’s unique not sub-par; it’s me being the creative person God made me to be. And He looks on me with love, not a “ways Frances doesn’t measure up” list.

Alternately, if I ever get go the other direction and get a big head, all I have to do is hearken back to the second year I attended the reading/presentation event for this journal….


I was still living on campus.
I needed to do laundry, really bad, so I’d have something to wear to the reading.
I ignored the signs, like the gigantic machinery tearing into the earth behind the clubhouse where the laundry room was, and like the actual signs on the doors about the water being shut down.
I put in all my laundry and started the machines.
And, because the water was shut off soon after I started, I was left with 3 washing machines full of soapy, soaking clothes. Great… 
I called up my trusty roommate who was studying at her parent’s house.
I lined my trunk with a trash bag.
I hauled the incredibly heavy globs of laundry and stuffed them in, soaking myself in the process.
I drove, I dripped water through KayBay’s house, I did laundry successfully this time, showered and changed.
I watched Wallace and Gromit with KayBay. And we had a great time.

And then I pretended to be a responsible, learned adult at the reading. I think they bought it.



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