Archive for April, 2015

Where I Am Today

The story of a young man seeking to find his place in the world. 

by: Rebecca Taylor

I want to start by telling you to never give up, no matter what anyone tells you. The people who tell you that you cannot accomplish something are either pessimistic, jealous, afraid for you or are too caught up in their preconceived ideas to realize that maybe you’re onto something. That something could be wonderful, or new or imaginative or that you’re so passionate about that the thought of abandoning it is enough to bring you to tears and make you feel like the entire universe has stopped spinning around you. There are more people than I can count who told me that I shouldn’t make changes to clothing designs or that there was something wrong with me for having my very unique style. The truth is there is nothing wrong with me. I’m just a guy who had a vision, one that was unheard of at the time.

For a long time, I had to wear hand me downs because my family didn’t have much money. I was in high school when I got my first real break. All boys and girls had to do sewing projects in home economics class. We were given material and told to come up with an idea of what we wanted to make. I decided that I wanted to come up with a really cool t-shirt and I did. To be honest, it didn’t look that good because my ability to use the sewing machine was very poor but I still liked what I had come up with and I told myself that one day I was going to get it right. Instead of using my birthday money to go to the store and buy clothes, I went to thrift stores and bought different items that I liked but that needed my own personal touch. I’d take designs from one shirt and add them to another. Some people just gave me funny looks, some of them told me I was crazy and should be doing other things like trying out for the basketball team. I played sports but that didn’t give me the same sort of thrill as wearing really cool clothes did and that I’d found a way to afford those clothes and give them my own touch made me proud. Some of the other students even tried to bully me because I was different. Fortunately, I’ve never been the quiet sort and I managed to get my message across that they weren’t the ones wearing the clothes so why did they care.

I didn’t know what I wanted to do when I got out of high school. The idea of being a clothing designer never crossed my mind because I’d been given so much flack about my own clothes from so many people. There were some though who applauded my passion and I fed off of the good energy and tried not to dwell on the bad too much, even though it much more frequent than the good. I got a job working in a sporting goods store selling. I got to choose the clothing that I wanted to wear in that store and I used my creativity and much improved sewing skills to come up with some interesting work duds. I often incorporated a sports theme into the design. A co-worker asked if I’d make him a few shirts that he could wear to work. I was only too happy to oblige. This was my first sale and it got me thinking that other people might wear my designs, so I put together a few other shirts. My boss gave me permission to sell them in the store. He was skeptical but willing to give me a try. I felt determined to prove to him that the clothing I liked to wear could become a trend. In time the shirts sold and I made others. I began to experiment with the designs, having a clientele enhanced my passion and my desire to push my limits even further.  One day I attended a corporate event with my girlfriend and saw someone wearing one of my shirts with their suit coat, I was amazed.  I realized that I had created something that couldn’t be bought in most stores. Without trying, I’d created a blend of luxury clothing and streetwear. That moment, I knew I wanted to give everyone a chance to buy my clothing. That led me to where I am today, starting my own clothing company. I couldn’t be happier knowing that I never gave up and that what started out as making clothing for me, turned into so much more. I know it is cliché to say a dream come true, but that’s really what this is, one wilder that I could ever have imagined.

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Volunteers

by: Rebecca Taylor

Volunteers are special people,

Always there to help

Keep things going smoothly

Extra hands, hearts, and ideas

Making others smile and laugh

Take time out to do for others

Creating self fulfillment

Something money can’t buy

Sometimes hidden behind the scenes

Other times in plain sight

Willing to give a helping hand

Hard working, caring, appreciated, amazing

Thank you for all you do.

When I Die

When I die I don’t want a monument with my face on it. I don’t want a party, with all of my friends mourning/ celebrating my death and all the lousy things they remember about me. I want silence.

I want the world to spin faster, and I want people to be too preoccupied with their lives to remember I’m gone.

Okay, I’m lying.

But still, sometimes I feel that way.

When I die I really want to be there to watch them bury my body. I want to make sure their doing it right, that I’m wearing my favorite jeans and that t-shirt my little sister Kalie made in art class. The one with the uneven pink stripes. I don’t even like pink, but she’d spend a month making it for my birthday, so I don’t want to leave that behind when I go.

I want to hover around in my ghostly form, and watch my mom cooking pasta in the kitchen, my father messing with the car in the garage, and when all of my aunts and uncles and cousins come over to cry over my ugly picture on the mantle, I want to stand off to the side, silently. Because it’s familiar, not being noticed I mean.

I wonder if anyone will even know I’m dead. Or if I’ll have moved too far away from everyone for them to reach me. Maybe someone will find me ‘sleeping’, smelling up the place and finally decide to call the cops or something.

Or maybe I’ll be on a cruise – like that’ll actually happen, but hey, I’m still young so I may learn to love those old people things. I’ll be leaning on the railings, and fall, and because I’m just so damn quiet, no one will realize I’m drowning until they’re miles away. And I can’t swim, so, there’s no way I’m getting back to the boat.

When I die, I want my death to be loud and obnoxious, something I never had the guts to be in life. I want fireworks, and arguments over what flowers to place on my grave, and the satisfaction that every time someone thinks of me, they want to scream – either from the pain of missing me, or frustration, or anger because they hated me so damn much.

I want a 6am parade that wakes up those people next door, the ones who always told me to pick up my pants because they were hanging too low and showing my ass. They know they loved looking at it, those pervs.

And I want thick socks, because they’re probably gonna put me in that part of hell that actually freezes over.

When I die, I’m giving all of my Pokemon cards to Charles, because hes the only one I know who still plays the game. I want my clothes burned so no one can look as good as me, and I want to give my stash of money to my mom so she can finally get her hair done by professionals. My dad can have my phone, because god know he needs something other than his ’90’s flip phone, with half of the buttons no longer working. Everything else I have, they can do what they want with it. I never really cared for it anyway.

And when I die, I want to die peacefully and painlessly.

I don’t want a heart attack, or those weird parasite that you can only get from the Amazon that eat your brains or something. I want to be like those old people who know their going, and kiss their grand kids’ foreheads, hug their children, then fall asleep.

That’s what I want.

Seasons of Patience

by: Rebecca Taylor

The seasons teach us patience

They begin in December with winter

Snow covered cedars make us smile

But the white roads mean we must go slower

And share our paths in order to survive the drive we are making.

Next March brings us the start of Spring

Gentle breezes begin to show a change in wardrobe

But mud puddles grow and slush is ever present

Making us readjust our path to get to the car door.

Summer shows her glowing face in June

School is out and children shout with joy

Extra-long lines of traffic as people clamour to leave the city

Everyone loaded down with hampers and sunscreen for the beach.

Autumn joins us in September

Beautiful leaves decorate the deciduous trees

Nights begin to get cooler

As parents and students look at homework together

Then the cycle begins again.

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