Sunday, October 13, 2013

Controlling the Uncontrollable

Well its been while since I last posted on here. I feel its about time to get back to it.

Rather than go back over what has happened in the past year and half since my last post I will just start fresh with the NOW.

I have been a member of the real world for 4 days now. And as I have come to find out real world is rough. I have just moved into my apartment in a cute little Twin Cities suburb to begin my life as an actress. But its amazing how quickly the joy of starting this new adventure quickly turns to the strain of watching dollar signs fill the air. As I signed my lease I felt as Atlas must have felt with the pressures of the world bearing down on him. My landlord soon left after passing me my keys and welcoming me to the building and I stood there frozen in my empty living room. This was my place. This was my new obligation. This was my life. I wanted nothing more in life at that moment than to get back in my still packed car and drive home and curl up with my mom. As I took in my first breath of pure independence I knew as much as my home in Montana seemed to be calling me back I knew I couldn't go back just yet. I unpacked the car and took my first grocery trip, it began to feel more and more like mine.

After my first night, I woke up to silence. Pure silence. A very daunting silence. A silence filled with nothing but anxiety. This was new test: Let the pressure of new life keep me on my blow up mattress or get up and go out in the world and be part of life. This has been the repeated routine for the past few days the only difference is the fear to get up off my bed is less and less and the want to go out into the world is greater and greater. Although most of my time is spent at the local Starbucks going through listings and listings of jobs, I have found my new area is very much like my town in Montana. Wayzata may be just minutes from the hustle and bustle of the cities it has the small town feel that I had grown accustom to living in Cut Bank.

Realizing that my real mortal enemy is money, I decided I was going to take the job hunt into my own hands. Rather than look at listings online I was going to walk around my area and introduce myself to the local businesses and inquire about jobs, even if they didn't have any at least I could be meeting people. So I packed up my computer and exited the Starbucks and walked into Monique Of Switerland Jewlers. I walked in introduced myself, said I was looking for work, and then spent the next hour just chatting with her. I walked out of Monique Of Switerland Jewlers as their new employee. Although it was just part time and I would still need to find one or two more jobs it revived the confidence I had that I was making the right move in moving to the area. I have many MANY applications and emails out to different places and I will continue to submit to places until my goals are met. I have found that the future may be paved with fear and uncertainty but its how we choose to face it that will change it from dirt to gold.

With 50% of my family facing transition, I have called and talked to my parents more on the phone now than ever. It is comforting to hear that although it is hard right now we can always make it better. I have been incredible blessed with parents who not only told me and encouraged me to go after what I wanted but they have put that same idea into practice themselves, with both of them going after things and adventures of their own. In a recent phone conversation with my dad I vented to him my fear of my financial situation, my fear of being on my own and other aspects of my current life. He responded by telling me that you can't be brave without first being a little afraid. Fear is a very dominating force, but it can also be the ignitor to opportunity.

So I may be broke, I may have student loan payments showing up in a matter of weeks, I may have a million other things that are completely out of my control, but I know that the one and only thing that I have control over is myself. And as corny and over used as that statement is, its always nice to be reassured of it. But the fear of what I face tomorrow is the chance to be brave for my future.

Well Starbucks is about to close early since it is Sunday, and I have to go prep for an audition. Till next time!

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

YOLOkoboji--Entry 1

Week one is over. Uhh... excuse me...where did that go? This week has flown by faster then Looney Toons Road Runner. When initially getting to Okoboji, my mom was a little more than anxious to show us around the town. The closer we got to the civilization the more she perked up in the driver seat. After making fun of how giddy she was getting, she leaned over to me and said the four words that tick me off more than just about anything, "You just don't understand." Most of the time I immediately tune out people when they say that but the fact that my mothers smile was ear to ear as she gazed off into the horizon waiting for her paradise to creep into view, I realized I didn't understand, but I was bound and determined to find out. The section of Iowa where I was headed was truly a family epicenter. As I watched as passed corn fields green with hope of a fall crop, my mom kept looking back and fourth. Her faced changed from enjoyment to that of searching for something. Thinking we had just become lost in the middle of rural Iowa, I decided to enjoy a scenic tour of corn. When suddenly the car took a turn and we were suddenly thrust into residential living. As Alexis and I gazed out at all the lake homes that cost more than either of us will ever see we were suddenly startled with a big gasp and "THERE IT IS!" We followed my moms finger as she pointed out my window to a small yellowish house in the center of the lot. She explained that this was my great grandparents lake house. Without skipping a beat she began telling us stories and memories of the house and the surroundings. We made a couple of quick stops to continue our little tour before reaching our hotel. Here was where we gained another tour guide. My mom's cousin Becky showed up and the moment she walked into our room there was a whole new definition giddy in the mix. Becky and my mom together there was no where to put two words, they exchanged their own stories and memories. After eating dinner Becky took us on a driving tour of Okoboji. It was like ten at night and the earth was pitch black but that didn't stop them from showing us every memory they could conjure up. I don't know what was more interesting trying to see the places  through the dark or listening to the laughter that was coming from the front seats.

The next day My mom, Alexis and I got back into the car and drove to a town near by named Emmitsburg. She was able to find the house she was looking for as if we were driving home. She pulled up to the Queen Marie Bed and Breakfast.
 "This is your greatgrandparent's house". The place we had seen the day before was just the lake home but this was the home. Gorgeous doesn't even begin to describe the house. We noticed a man walking up to the door, we caught his attention and mom explained her history with the house. He graciously let us in and I looked at my mom and she was able to mutter the words, "It hasn't changed". All the wallpaper, the floors, the oven, and all the details were a perfect time capsule of my mom's younger years.

As the owners of the house showed us the rest of the house, they would describe to us what they used it for and my mom gave a historical recount of the rooms. As we left my mom had a new skip to her step. Next stop was seeing the old family farm. We didn't stay long. The final stop on family history tour was a trip to the cemetery. Mom parked the car and told us she couldn't remember exactly where our family had been barried. We were able to narrow down the field since this cemetery was segregated, Catholics on one side and Protestants on the other. After locating the headstones of my great grandmother and grandfather, I noticed something very strange, my mother wasn't crying. My mom is a crier, and it shocked me that she didn't have to pull a tissue out for this occasion. As I looked away from my mom I noticed another headstone with the same last name. I inquired as to who the stone belonged to, she told me that this was my great great grandparents. The wind left my lungs as I read the year, 1873. After regaining air I got into the car. My mom had no need for tissues the entire trip, I think she was more proud to be showing and introducing us to our history. The roots that began Garrelts family line in America, which turned into the Butterworth name, and now in me has turned into Wineman. But here is where it began.

After a dinner with Becky it was finally time to head to the Okoboji Summer Theatre.
 I heard about this magical place when I was in the third grade, and after twelve years of waiting and imagining and hearing story after story it was finally my turn. As our car drove along the gravel we pulled up to the dorm and I was quickly met by friends. With each returning embrace I remembered how much I had missed them. After chatting and introducing them to family, came the time to say goodbye to Alexis and my mom. I gave them each a hug and the returned to the car. Alexis rolled down the window I grabbed her hand. as I grasped it I looked at her and immediatly realized how grown up she was. I am not going to see her again until December. where had the years gone and when did  my little sister grow up. She said she was going to miss me, the car pulled away and our fingers one by one had to let go. I watched as the red car disappeared into the distance. I turned around and got the sinking feeling in my stomach that I had had only one other time in my life, and that was when my drove away from Stephens College after first dropping me off. The feeling that there was no going back, this was it, I had been ready for this, and now it was time to jump in with both feet. I walked into the dorm to begin to unpack, when I ran into my friend Olivia. We got to chatting and catching up and she dropped a phrase that I thought was her mispronouncing "yoyo". when I asked her about it she said "Yolo". She described, probably to remove the wondering face I was wearing, "You only live once".

I am the fifth generation of my family to experience Okoboji Iowa. Each of them leaving a mark in someway wether it is a name on a silo, or establishing the family to its new home in America. Now although I am not staying here for the rest of my life I know I that this is my chance to pick up and leave my mark for my generation. This summer is going to be amazing because you only live once so why not live it up now. :)

love always

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

And so it begins!!!

the first of many video blogs for the amazing summer that is about to ensue! and the shoes in the bags got donated not thrown away!

see you soon

Monday, May 21, 2012

If You're Not From the Prairie....

If you have ever been to church, especially if you have lived in a small town, you have seen them. The infamous Church Lady. That one lady who is often one of the older ladies in the church, who is not afraid to speak up to the congregation and who sits in the same pew every Sunday. She becomes part of the whole church experience and you just can't imagine your church without her. During my time going to church from Kindergarten to the time I graduated we had church lady at our Lutheran church. Her name was Jewell Wolk. She taught we Sunday School for many years, she even taught me that I was old enough to know that the word "ass" was not in fact a curse word but another name for a donkey. My parents didn't really appreciate that lesson. She was without a doubt the most outspoken women I have ever met. But one of the biggest lessons she ever taught me was not from one of her stories, or her spoken lessons but from a book. On the day I graduated from High School a knock came to the door, and there was jewel with a thin rectangular package in her hands. As a tore through the grad themed paper I opened  to find a book with what I thought at the time a pretty corny title...

She soon left and I got to reading it. I opened the cover to find my grad announcement taped inside, and I turned the pages to find a message wrote to me from her...
when you are in the cities someone will ask you where did you grow up and what is a prairie. Here is your answer. 
For anyone who knows me I am very proud to be where I am from. I love living in Missouri and I am VERY excited to be going to Iowa for the summer but there is just something about returning to my broken sky line. A place where I look to the East and see mountains reaching to the heavens and where I look West and see miles of flat prairie. I love coming back to my town where it takes me less than 5 minutes to be anywhere, and where you know everybody you pass on the street. A place where traffic is you and the car that is a mile away from you. A paradise where you can be in town and see every star that glistens in the sky. And where I can see my family in real life rather than over a skype window.  Home is a place where you can be away from for a large amount of time but the moment you return its as if you have never left. Where air is as clean as you remember and the wind is a familiar greeting that brings a chilly welcome. My mom told me before I cam home that I would be taking my brother to his summer theatre job in Virginia City, Montana. That is about an 12 hour trip roundtrip. As we began driving into the mountains and through canyons I was continually reminded on just how lucky I am to be able to experience such magnificence so often in my life. The entire road trip was picturesque scene after picturesque scene.
Yesterday when I got home I sat on my bed and looked at bookshelf and there sat Jewell's book. I reopened it and after 2 years in college it had a whole new meaning. I am not writing this to brag to everyone how incredibly amazing my state is (even though it is the best of them all) but for you to take an outlook that home is by your definition, and that no one you ever meet will understand nor appreciate it quite like you. I am and incredibly to be from Montana. I leave you with a passage from the book If You're Not From the Prairie... by David  Bouchard

If you're not from the prairie, you can't know my soul,
You don't know our blizzards, you've not fought our cold
You can't know my mind, nor ever my heart
Unless deep within you, there's somehow a part...
A part of these things that I've said that I know, 
The wind, sky and earth, the storms, and the snow.
Best say you have--and then we'll be one,
For we will have shared that same blazing sun.

Love always, DW

If You're Not From the Prairie by David Bouchard. Atheneum Books for Young Readers. 

Monday, April 16, 2012

"thank you"

This week has been just about as wild and crazy as I am pretty sure is possible. And the next few weeks hold the same possibility. But as I run around like a chicken with my head cut off I have taken a moment to realize it's April. Now it high school terms that would mean I have a full month and a half or so till my friends take one last walk through our beloved halls. But in college the first weekend in may holds title of graduation. Here at the Steve our company is our family. To know if a few weeks that they will no longer be living here saddens me greatly. They are an extraordinary group of actors and technicians who will no doubt go on to exceed their wildest imaginations. I am so glad that for these past two years I have had the honor of working so close to such amazing people. So the next blog video here on really good or really bad is tribute to the Stephens College of Performing Arts Seniors. Everyone is so proud of you all and I thank you for everything you have taught me. I love you all and enjoy...
"Do not go where the path my lead go instead where there is no path and leave a trail"-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Love always

Sunday, February 26, 2012

24 hour play festival

Our Warehouse Theatre decided to have a 24 hour play festival. It was a full day of completely new student written, performed and designed shows. It was a heck of an experience....WATCH

but before you watch go, go and VOTE FOR STEPHENS COLLEGE at: