It’s Spooky Season by Phillip Kalafatis

Its that time everyone.
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Who’s excited? I’m excited. It’s time for sweater weather and hot drinks. NOT pumpkin spice lattes (don’t be that person). I’m talking skeleton sweaters and hot cider. Horror books and horror movies. But mostly for me, horror books. Staying up late reading a novel that sets your nerves on fire and the hair on the back of your neck standing up. The shadows in your room becoming people, monsters, or other things.
‘Tis the season for glowing pumpkins and freezing gusts of wind. Falling leaves, and the true horror; raking up all the leaves.
The feeling of your toes and fingers chilling even when under a blanket. Autumn winds howling outside your window as you labor over your homework. Jumping from store to store, craving the blast of warmth that emanates from within as you venture out with your friends.
The spookiness reaches its peak after it’s all completed and you realize, one more year has passed since the last, and one more year until the next.
And then you wait.

Big Decisions by Madi Hart

Every day, we make decisions. What time should I set my alarm for? Should I hit the snooze button? Should I shake the t-shirt that is on the chair to make sure there aren’t stink bugs in it? Should I look at what makes the ‘plop’ on the floor when I shake it? (To that question, the answer is always no.) Those questions aren’t usually life-changing (although looking at what made the ‘plop’ on the floor can be traumatizing for the hours following). These decisions blend together like watercolors being stroked onto paper, painting a timeline of our lives. Most of the time, they make our lives into beautiful, colorful masterpieces. Sometimes we put the wrong color in the wrong spot, but we learn to work around it. However, sometimes the issue is greater than putting the color in the wrong spot. Sometimes the cloudy water is no longer able to provide us with the vibrant colors it used to, or the crusty bristles of a brush we’ve used for so long can no longer stroke the paper the way we want it to, no matter how hard we try. What do we do then? Do we keep painting, knowing that it isn’t what it used to be or has the potential to be? Or do we try to change something up, perhaps inhibiting our ability to paint for awhile?
I made a big decision recently. In my watercolor painting analogy, I decided that the materials I was using to watercolor weren’t as high quality as they could be (Sorry for the ambiguity. I think it’s better this way). The purpose of this post, beyond its therapeutic purposes for me, is to encourage everyone reading this that sometimes it’s necessary to evaluate the condition that your watercolor supplies are in. And if you notice that they aren’t doing everything they’re supposed to do, then take a trip to the art store and figure out how to better them.