czugdesignblog

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Did you know I played my harp in a music video recently?! 🎶💕✨I was so blessed to be featured in "Mary Did You Know," performed in Farsi by the incredibly talented Iranian pop star, @helenthevoice. Here are some BTS from the shoot! 🎬🎼🎤🎹 I had an amazing time meeting the crew and creative team who worked on this project. And George was an adorable harp wrangler. Definitely felt like a pop star myself for a day! I can't wait to see what other "harp-ortinities" that 2018 has in store! 💖🎶🎆🎇#harpvision #inthesilenceoc #czugrun (at Los Angeles, California)

[czugdesignblog]

hugging in trader joe’s

Today’s gratefulness blog is about being thankful for hugs and Trader Joe’s.

 I got some hard news today, and I texted my boyfriend right away. Minutes later, I was digging through a pile of laundry, wearing only a tired t-shirt, trying to find my last clean pair of leggings, when he silently appeared in my doorway. Like a movie. He nearly gave me a heart attack, but before I could say anything, his arms were around me. Tears stung my eyes as I laid my head on his chest. I tried to convince him I was fine, but of course, the more he told me he loved me and that everything would be okay, the more my heart melted. 

Now, bear in mind, he lives with roommates in an apartment that faces mine (Yep, Ross-and-Rachel-style!), so we see each other pretty frequently. But, like everyone, we still text back and forth on they days we’re both home and busy.

I texted him to say that I wouldn’t be needing a ride to work after all, since my editing work had been cancelled for the day.

Usually, a cancelled work shift mean a fun day. But for a struggling artist after the holiday season whose car is in the shop, it’s not great news.

And, it merits the boyfriend dropping everything to come by and give me a hug. No questions, no criticisms. Just a hug. 

I gave into my emotion, and let him hold me. I wiped my eyes, and thanked him.

He smiled and kissed my forehead, and told me everything would be okay.

I let my eyes drift across the framed pictures on my wall. The inspirational scribbles hung there. The art. And I knew deep down that he was right. Soon, everything would ripen, or at the very least sprout, and we’d both enjoy the fruit of our artistic labors. But right now, a hug was given and received with much honesty and love. And gratitude. 

“Do you want to go with me to Trader Joe’s”

I’d been working all morning and afternoon, my eyes glossy from staring at multiple screens. 

“Yes.”

A trip out of doors, even just around the corner, would be right what I needed. 

The plants and produce that greet you at Trader Joe’s are exactly the remedy for a drab, post-New Year’s funk. I happily traded in staring at computer screens to staring at the beautiful, colorful chalk signs at our local Trader.

Down every aisle, I just held George’s hand as he studied the items, and I let the vibrant squiggles and curved lines of each chalkboard sign take me somewhere else. I read about collagen supplements and the origins of cucumbers. I learned exactly what made up Green Goddess dressing. I sampled a delicious spinach salad. 

I wandered through Trader Joe’s with a renewed sense of wonder and appreciation for the place. From the cheerful cashier who asked us about our New Years to the clever quip on the side of George’s tissue box purchase... Our simple visit to Trader Joe’s was a balm on my aching heart. 

As we finished checking out, George pulled me close again. I think he saw me studying the whimsical chalk lettering and tasted my wistful, aching spirit. I thought about the Green Goddess dressing I might purchase when I can regularly grocery shop with less frugality again.

He gave me an octopus kiss on my forehead, a favorite among his kiss inventions of 2017. I tried to give him one back, but my technique still needs some work.

Today, I’m grateful for swift, sincere hugs and the typography of Trader Joe’s, and the face that I’m blessed enough to live somewhere with convenient accessibility to both. Especially when I needed them most today.

[czugdesignblog]

Look Mom, this CA girl is surviving east coast winter! ❄️🌲🏙 I'm utterly dazzled by all of the pretty houses, and George keeps making fun of me because I want to stop and look at every single one. Haddonfield is a Christmas postcard of a town, and I can't believe it's where I get to loiter around for the holidays. 🎁🕯🎄 (at Haddonfield, New Jersey)

[czugdesignblog]

Rising against the tradition of cold today, by walking around 26 degree weather wearing many, many layers, including two pairs of gloves. 🔹❄️⛄️ Also, this quote was set into the pavement while George and I were walking around NYC, and I had to stop and marvel. One of the things I love about big cities is how full of tradition-buckers they are. Sure, not all of them do it well or for awesome reasons, but some tradition-buckers... Some of them are magical. Some are powerful. Electric. You can find them in small towns and rural areas, certainly, but there's a concentration in cities, and I kinda just really love it. 🌆🏙🌃 (at Grand Central Terminal)

[czugdesignblog]

Had an absolutely unbelievable time in NYC with my dude yesterday. 🏙❄️✨ He navigated the underground like a super spy, and had us zipping across the city like time travelers. Even though it didn't snow, the city streets were covered in magic and energy. 💎⚡️💕 I saw some of the strangest, most interesting things. A sidewalk covered with pigeons made of felt, and an artist who kept making more and more. A cafe that sold whole slices of fried squid. I saw a woman sprint from a store onto the crosswalk, as she put on a brand new coat and literally flung her other (beautiful, still new and gorgeous) coat at a trash can. It took everything in me not to take that beautiful coat she threw away! 🛍😱🗑 An exciting, exhausting place indeed that I look forward to visiting again! And of course, holding George's hand through every crowded street and empty subway station was a delight. He was in his element here, like a fish in water. A true blue Jersey boy, who led us everywhere from a tiny Belgium frites place, to a colorful Cuban coffee joint, to a secret entrance below the Rockefeller tree to avoid the crowd... I really love dating a bi-coastal super. 🏋🏻💖💋 #newyorknewyork #kissme #nyc #newyorkcity #alexanderhamilton #eastcoastwestcoastlove (at Rockefeller Center)

[czugdesignblog]

the gratefulness blog: 2018 edition

Upon the dusk of an old year and dawn of another, it’s common to make a list of traits or goals you would like to permeate the next season of time. For me, one of those is gratefulness. 

Sure, more fashion sketching. More money saving. I hope to spend more time outside. But beyond those things, I know that I also want to make gratitude a daily practice for me, and to express it each day in a blog. No lengthy chronicle needed, but I do want to keep a written record of the gratefulness I feel. 

After doing some brief research -- both accidental (see Pixar’s “Coco”) and intentional (see this blog post) -- I really want to commit to a daily gratefulness blog. Be it big or small, I’m going to pour out my gratitude to the universe. 

So let’s see how this goes. 

[czugdesignblog]

Before I discovered healthier ways to process thoughts and experiences, I wrote vague poems instead.  

Here’s one I wrote about a stripper I once dated. 

talk truth to me incessantly a canopy of imagery paint pictures with your words and eyes the twilit sky's sunrise complies your melodies, your armory your words, their meaning burns but battlegrounds we haven't found weekend/warrior return illustrious vernacular paired with academic whimsy denotes genius gentility with spiced yet tender valor iced scarcity [redundancy] hot rarity slight enmity sweet amity add clarity blend well and hold the whip defined our terms and lesson learned i stage whisper that trust is earned apologize and then surmise dissociate you from Villisca guys although no axe in hand you claim the guard around my heart remains he still works weekends night and day so in your hands, i'll not be clay heard from atop Fortitude your Friday heart resounds with truth perhaps amiss and perhaps not can't wait to our friend ship unlock hoist the anchor man the braces appropriated zeal encases mystery with nervous teems it's just what would happen to me now, bring on that bright horizon

[czugdesignblog]

Working on lots of new exciting things with In the Silence! More details to come! 

[czugdesignblog]

unfolding my creative identity.

Photo: Jon Cauneac

Why labels are everything and nothing at all. 

Last week, I was hired to play my harp for a VIP event at House of Blues Anaheim. 

Yep, you read that right. It was such a wonderful, whirlwind experience. Somewhat of a last minute booking, as a favor to a friend, but nevertheless thrilling.

Now mind you, where music gigs are concerned, my solo performances have leaned out over the past few years; if anything, I typically play with my string quartet or not at all. It isn’t because I no longer enjoy performing, I’ve just invested my time and energy into creative gigs that align more with my other skills, writing and design. That being said, music is still one of my passions, and I appreciate the opportunities as they come along.

Regardless of this, the gig was AMAZING. Days before, I practiced and prepped dutifully. And despite some apprehension the morning of, I performed confidently at the event itself. I was proud of my set, received warm approval from the guests, and experienced great personal satisfaction and pride at the close. 

What I didn’t expect was this: I was invited back, to play for another event the following month.

For some reason, this made me somewhat anxiously evaluate who I was in that moment. Suddenly, I had this thought. “Oh...They think I’m a harpist. I’m an artist and a writer, but they think I’m actually a harpist.”

A wave of guilt washed over me. Even though I had just performed harp music in the gorgeous VIP room of House of Blues for nearly two hours, I began to doubt myself. I questioned my integrity, what my true profession was, and how I defined myself as an artist. I ran several labels through my head, attempting to best capture who or what I was, and ultimately, was subconsciously undermining my identity as a musician in the process. It didn’t matter that I’ve been playing the instrument since I was ten years old. In my mind, for some reason, I felt like I wasn’t really a harpist, because it wasn’t my full time job.

With enthusiasm, however, I accepted the upcoming gig. I silenced my conflicted heart, and resolved to discuss my thoughts further with my sister and other artist friends. And what I realized after talking to them is this:

Who you are and how you make your living are two very, very, very different things.

Your livelihood does not constitute your identity, and identity does not constitute your livelihood. Even though nobody was insinuating this about me, I was doing it to myself. I was making confusing alternations to my own identity, attempting to cram myself down into the definable confinement of a single label or two. As if human beings were meant to be boxed in.

As I relaxed into the idea that I was who I was, the anxiety about who I really was warmed and settled a deep, warm confidence in me. And I felt freedom from the rules and self-inflicted labels I gave myself. I felt free and true enough to pursue music and art and writing, because of my love and talent for all of those things. And who knows? Maybe I’ll develop a new talent or skill that will add to the tapestry of my ever unfolding creative identity!

I hope that as it happens, I am always open to growing, learning, and expanding who I am. 

[czugdesignblog]

eight years out of england.

September 26 was the eight year anniversary of my spiritual year in England, so to commemorate the experience, I thought I’d share some thoughts I wrote about it a few years back, in the height of my blogging days. 

Photo: Starlizz Photography

 It had been a long, stressful, emotional, exhausting day of cars, and shuttles, and airplanes, and then another airplane, and then a train. And then another shuttle. I'd packed and repacked my two suitcases that morning. I stared at myself in the mirror for a long time, regretting that extra two inches I let her cut off.     Eighteen and jet-lagged out of my mind, I couldn't keep my eyes open for anything. Terrified that I would miss the update on my delayed connection, I remember sitting in the empty Heathrow terminal and setting my pink flip phone's alarm to go off every ten minutes to allow me some sleep but also ensure that I'd wake up to check my next flight's status and location.     After I landed in Manchester, in a daze, I found my way to my luggage and then outside to the train station. It was all very straightforward, but I still couldn't believe I'd really made it.     The closer I got, the more surreal it became. And the more wonderful. Everything was so green, so beautiful. The air was different, the sky was bigger. Romantic. The electric green moss that grew everywhere, on everything, was so vibrant against the stone architecture. I felt like Dorothy.     The shuttle ride was pure ecstasy. Driving on the other side of the thin, windy roads felt dangerous and exciting. I listened to the other students' chatter with sincere interest and premature love. So many stories and journeys and experiences.     My luggage was unloaded from the shuttle and all I could do was gape. Like the crazy that I am, I never looked at any pictures or videos of my new home before arriving, so everything was a surprise. That's where I'm living. There. Right there. I'm living in a castle. I'm living in a castle. I'm living in a castle in England.    From there, the years have made the next few hours blurry. I can't remember how I found Room 9 in the old Conference Hall, or how chose my bed. I can't remember who of my seven roommates was in the room when I got there. I heard about a tour of the grounds and rushed over to join. I met many new faces, and felt so at home, so warm. More than anything I'd experienced in my life, I knew I belonged there.    Like the big family we had not yet become, all one hundred and eighty of us crammed into the massive living room of the castle that night. Our new principal spoke to us, and again, I felt so sure of I where I was. I loved everything about the room, the building. I loved the carpeting and the couches, and the big storybook windows. I felt safe.     To my surprise, I slept through the night that night. I wasn't homesick or scared. I hugged my fluffy, new duvet, and swore to absorb all that God had to teach me that year.     Capernwray is still the weirdest, best word that I know. It still makes my heart stop when I hear someone mention it. Those formative nine months will always be dear to my heart. It's incredible to me that so much time has passed.     Capernwray allowed me the chance to test my own integrity, to let me see if I was the same person  a thousands miles away in another country that I was at home. And to see if God really was the same, too. It broadened my perspective about the world and how my relationship with it can and should be. I also think it may have been God's way of quenching my thirst for Christian community that I cried out for in high school, affirming to me that I truly wasn't the only one in the world who cared. There were other people my age, from all over this broken planet, who actually loved Jesus too. It was enough for me to know that, no matter where life would lead me from there, I wasn't alone. The powerful sting of those goodbyes was like nothing I've experienced, but I think that guarantees our reunion one day will be even more amazing.     Even if we aren't together anymore, I can remember the names and faces of the people who, for nine months straight, inspired me to continue to live differently and that I have it in me to keep going. Capernwray is where I decided to attend Biola, and study screenwriting, despite all of my fears and apprehensions about a career rooted in the immoral abyss of Hollywood.  I made indescribably intimate friendships with souls that I'm still honored to know.    Here's to five more years of friendship and blessing.

[czugdesignblog]

muppet love.

Soooo....

To celebrate 2 years together, my lovely, sweet, handsome, adorable boyfriend bought us tickets to see The Muppets Take The Bowl concert tomorrow night!!!!!! 🐸🐷💕 We're gonna get to see the Muppets LIVE AND IN PERSON at the Hollywood Bowl!! I'm losing my mind with love and excitement!

The Muppets have played an important role in my life, from childhood to adulthood -- my relationship with my boyfriend included!  Leading up to my first Valentine’s with George, I was extremely nervous for a bunch of reasons. I’ve never understood Valentine’s Day to be this mushy day for couples only, because that’s not how I was raised to think of it (More on that in another post!). It always weirded me out in the past when people, particularly guys in my life, made it something super dramatic and romantic. Valentine’s Day was a major opportunity for me to see which direction George would go, based on how well he knew me that point. I definitely dropped more than one not-so-subtle hints that I did not want any kind of special gift or special treatment on Valentine’s Day. 

 Well, all my anxiety and apprehension vanished when the day finally came. In a super casual, yet tender way, he handed me a small, simple package that contained the best Valentine gift ever: a DVD of The 1979 MUPPET MOVIE. 

Needless to say, it’s now our tradition, to watch a Muppet movie every Valentine’s Day.

This gift touched my heart on so many levels, but mostly because it made me feel known. He understood the depth of what these characters meant to me, in all their retro-wierdness, and it felt like he deeply understood me and my retro-weirdness too.

 Jim Henson and his furry friends were incredibly impactful on my personal development. As an kid, a teenager, an adult, an artist, a writer, a student, a human... Their demonstrations of wonder, love, silliness, family, and music always resonated with something inside of me. The colors and textures of their appearances, the quirkiness of their names, and their authentic questions about the great mysteries of life, posed so vulnerably and innocently... The spirit of the Muppets is almost as precious to me as the physical portrayals themselves. So, you can only imagine, the thought of seeing a real, live Muppet performance on this scale is thrilling to me!

It can’t go without saying, I can't help but harbor some feelings of sadness, as I process that Kermit the Frog will not be performed by Steve Whitmire, the Jim Henson handpicked Kermit performer since 1993. After some creative differences, Disney chose to fire Whitmire, and has replaced him with another performer, Matt Vogel. After a lifetime of Whitmire Kermit, it's going to be reallllly, realllly, realllllllly hard to experience this new Kermit. 

But even so, I feel lucky. I feel lucky to have lived through two generations of OG Kermit performers. It's pretty unbelievable that we're in a new era. 

In summation, I simply CANNOT wait to sit and watch these classic characters sing and perform under the stars at the Hollywood Bowl tomorrow, with my favorite person in the entire world. It’s going to be Valentine’s Day in September people! #ribbetribbet

[czugdesignblog]

Thinking about some dear friends in Minneapolis today. 🛤 💕It was around this time last year that George and I were planning our grand adventure to from LA to Minneapolis to Winnipeg! It was right before I started working as a Photoshop artist in LA, and there were a lot of uncertainties and scary unknowns. But visiting the friends and family we did made for a great serge of inspiration and boldness and love -- like epic adventures tend to do. 🚀🌃✨ 🏙 ♥️ Love you, Minneapolis. Let's finish our heart to heart real soon! (at Mill City Museum)

[czugdesignblog]

Marble detailing at Independence Hall. 📜📯🇺🇸 These pictures were my way of admiring these monuments in a different way. Since starting my journey of design, I've been a lot more tuned in to colors and textures that catch my eye and heart. Marble has become so beautiful to me this year, and there was so much of it in Philadelphia! 🌫💙✨The simple elegance of it, the unique assimilation of contrasting colors, the HEAVINESS and lasting grandeur... I love it, apparently so did our founding fathers. I know that much of the marble steps around the buildings were added later, but even some of the original parts incorporate marble as well. Just beautiful. 💕 (at Independence Hall)

[czugdesignblog]

Slippery summer. ☀️ 🏙 August in DTLA.I love this city. • • • • #summerinLA #summerscapes #summer #august #exteriors #losangeles #cityofangels (at Los Angeles, California)

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🔸GRIT. 🔸VALOR. 🔸HEART. 🔸Yo girl was an Agent of Good today! 🌼🌾🌻 I got do a little somethinsomethin for the ever beloved @yellowconference... But you're gonna have to #waitforit! In the mean time, why don't you check out what's going on with Yellow! More and more details are released about the conference every day! 💛📣🛵 If you haven't heard about it, the Yellow Co. is a blog, conference, and membership for female entrepreneurs and social good companies! I did some social media and graphic design stuff with them last summer, and had my eyes and heart EXPLODE with inspiration and encouragement. 🌅🌠🎇 Even if you can't make the conference, soak in everything you can from these guys; your heart with thank you. 🏵☀️😍 #bloomyellow #yellowconference #gritvalorheart #graphicdesigner #graphicdesign #freelanceartist #freelancer #freelanceartist #freelancerlife (at Los Angeles Arts District)

[czugdesignblog]

Homebaked cookies for the win! Makes responding to new client emails yummy. 😋🍪☕️🌇 #czugrun (at Los Angeles, California)