The Machinist

I read about this movie on the internet tonight and it slightly reminded me of myself. Christian Bale plays a CNC lathe operator with insomnia who fears that he may be going crazy.

Working midnights is really starting to wear me down. It's been three weeks or so and I'm a wreck. When I get home from work I can't go to sleep. My body thinks "hey it's daytime we're not supposed to be in bed!" Most days I can't drift off untill ten o'clock or so.

Then, once I get to sleep I simply cannot wake up! If left undisturbed by Stacey or the telephone I'll sleep ten or eleven hours untill it's time to get up and go to work again. Even if I've had plenty of sleep it's all I can do to drag myself out of bed.


I'm ALWAYS tired now. It's beginning to be that I am almost always in a bad mood and grouchy. The other night I went off on my wife for several minutes before I realized what I was doing and had to apologize. And it may sound silly but I find myself hating our dog Frankie. I simply do not have the patience to put up with him.



I'd say this is about how I feel right now.

I can't say anything to my supervisor at work about this however, because working midnights is the only thing keeping me from being laid off. As most of you who read my blog already know, it's an extremely hard time to be looking for a job in Michigan these days. There's nothing out there unless you want to work for minimum wage.

So I'm stuck. I feel like I'm living life in slow motion but at the same time it seems like time is just flying by. Probably because I'm sleeping all the time I guess. I'm assuming that it will get better in time as my body becomes more accustomed to it's new sleeping schedule. I HOPE it does anyway.

Stacey has been such a sweetheart through all of this. She's been very forgiving of my moodiness and accepts my apologies so gracefully. She keeps telling me to not worry about it when I sleep all day and spend hardly any time with her. I thank God for giving me such a patient and loving wife. But the problem is that I miss the time with her also.

I'm so glad to see her when she gets home from work but I'm so sleepy that I'm lucky if I get an hour with her before dozing off.

So, anyway thanks for "listening" to me rant about my problems. Those of you that are believers just please keep us in prayer and I'll owe you guys one.

The Graveyard Shift

So now I'm working midnights. For the next month I'm to split my duties between inspecting parts and supervising 4 guys running production.

It's a very slow shift. The nights seem to drag on forever sometimes and I feel guilty when I'm just standing around with nothing to do. I've been using the time to work on my book, (Page three is penciled and needs inking while here at work I've begun the rough sketches for page 4.) but I feel like I'm stealing from the company.

I mentioned this to my boss and he just blew it off saying that's how nightshift is, so I guess it's ok.

I find it amusing however to be supervising instead of supervised. I thank God that I'm simply back to work no matter what I'm doing.

Is the enemy of my enemy my friend?

I haven't written much about my return to work yet so I thought now would be a good time.

I returned to work on January 2, thinking that everything was ok. Boy was I wrong. I hadn't been at work for an hour yet when I found out that there had been arguments about whether to call me back or not. Bob my supervisor fighting for my return was no surprise to me really, we've worked together for five years now and he's taught me everything I know.

But a big surprise to me was that a certain supervisor that I've always had trouble with was also with Bob in the fight to return me to work. I've written about him before here somewhere, John.

Now if you had asked me who I would have thought would fight to keep me OUT of the shop I would have told you that he would have been at the forefront. He's always given me the impression that he didn't like me as a person or my abilities as an inspector. We have butted heads at many times in the past and nobody has ever driven me to the brink of loosing self-control like he has.

However, he argued FOR me when the debate began about whether to return me to work or not. He even insisted he didn't want one of the other inspectors to return he wanted ME specifically because he trusts me to do the work properly.

Wow! What a surprise eh?


But that's not all. A supervisor that I don't even work for was one of the most vehement opponents to my return. He's the IT manager here at our company and since I work on the factory floor I've had very little interaction with the man. His name is Mike.

I've no idea what he'd have against me returning unless it has to do with saving money somehow. I am one of the highest paid employees on the production floor, though that is not saying much here, they pay very little.

Also as far as I know my work performance has always been satisfactory to everyone here besides John's criticizms. So I don't know.

Either way I'm back to work. For the first two weeks it's been work as usual here, however at a much slower pace. There is little work and I'm told that often nowadays we only work four days a week.

Now the last and wierdest thing.


Last week my supervisor Bob came to me and said that because work is so slow I am in danger of being laid off again. He asked if I would be willing to step down from inspecting parts to running a machine making them. I said that I would although I didn't like it. (It's better than being laid off again!) He said that it would only be temporary and that as soon as things picked up again I'd return to my inspection position. He told me to expect to begin running a machine somewhere around the end of the month.

Then, the next day, Bob comes to me again and tells me that the supervisor on 3rd shift is taking an unexpected leave of absence. He then asked me if I'd be interested in filling this position for the month that the regular supervisor will be away.

(To be continued...)

My first post of the new year!

First off I hope that everyone had a great holiday season. As any of you who read my wife's blog already know, we went to Ohio and West Virginia for the holidays. It was lots of fun.

A lot has been going on and that's part of the reason I haven't posted. I got so busy that I just haven't spent much time on the computer lately.

First, I'm back to work! I returned to work on January 3rd. This was a great relief for Stacey and I as they were about to cancel our health insurance because I wasn't working. However, the situation at work is still sort of in limbo right now. Work is still slow and the other day I was asked would I be willing to run a machine instead of be an inspector if they kept my pay rate the same.

I told them that I was, but that I didn't like it because it feels like a step down from my current position as a Quality Inspector. Then, two day's ago, I was also asked would I be willing to fill in for the supervisor on the midnight shift for a month in February. Wierd huh? First asked to do a demoted position, immediately after offered a temporary promotion! Again I said yes, I would do it and now it's in God's hands. For the moment I'm still working as and inspector and that's just fine with me. Fortunately I like my job.

Page three of my book is almost complete and I'm beginning to ink it now. With the return to work I find it more difficult to work on my book. Now I'm so tired after work that I'm lucky to spend an hour and a half a day on it.

Finally today is my first day not SMOKING! I'm trying these new nicotine lozenges that a friend reccomended and so far they seem to be helping. The only problem is that I'm finding it hard to focus a little bit. Please keep me in prayer as I struggle to break free from this stronghold in my life.

Page 2 complete at last, or giving birth.

I think that I've stated before that I hadn't done any finished artwork in some time. I didn't know how out of practice I had become! I can remember a time when I could have done a page like this in a day or two. A day being about eight actual hours of work mind you.

But I am glad to report that page two is now complete. It's been a long time since I've been pleased with ANY of my artwork but there are elements of this page that actually please me. I'm not too please with the figure looking up at the sky or how flat the background in that panel is either. But the cross-hatching in the last panel is somewhat like I wanted it to turn out as well as the leaves of the trees closer to the foreground. Overall I think that a true professional working for a comic book company would be ashamed to show this page to his editor. But for me it's the best that I can do and I'm pleased with it.

Before any of you think I'm being too hard on myself please keep in mind that I read a LOT of comic books, and have been doing so almost all of my life. I'm only trying to keep an honest perspective on things.

I know that this may sound strange to some but I hope that even if I ever do become a professional penciler for comics someday, I hope that I can still look at my work and see what I got wrong as well as what I'm proud of. I think that it's good for me and will help to keep me humble. I've met a few really good artists over the years, some of them professionals themselves, and some of them seemed to me to be arrogant because of how well they could preform their craft. I don't ever want to be like that.

I was talking to my pastor on the telephone yesterday and he asked me if I enjoyed drawing. That was a difficult question to answer, there's no simple answer.

On one hand I love it. The feel of the pencil in my hands. Watching the ideas in my head take shape for others to see. The comfort of being familiar with the tools of my craft, sometimes they feel like old friends. And finally the joy of completing the work and holding it in my hands to look at and show to others.

On the other hand, I loathe it. The difficulty of making myself sit still for hours on end. The utter frustration of knowing what I want to draw but not knowing quite how it's done sometimes. The tedium of first penciling all of the small details I want, and then the anxiety of tracing over them with permanent ink.

I tried to express some of this to my pastor, Chris, and he told me that it was the same for him sometimes when he's preparing a sermon. He called it the process of "giving birth", a term I hadn't heard applied to a labor of love in quite some time. And it struck a resonant chord within me. That feeling of satisfaction that you get when you hear someone articulate something that you've never been able to put into words before.

Yes, that's exactly how I would describe drawing for me.

Giving birth.

So anyway, now that I'm done waxing philosophical, here's my new baby, Page 2. I hope you like it, but either way I'd love to read your comments.


Oh and again, those of you that pray, please do so for me. You see tomorrow, I start having my first labor pains for page 3. {:P

Back To The Old Drawing Board

Sabbath

"Do you believe in God, Brandon?"

This is the opening line to my Christian comic book. I've had the inspiration for this story for about ten years now. I've figured out most of the plot points and have them outlined in my head. As of late I've begun to write out this outline in some of my free time and send it to my friend Abel Ramirez to review.

Little did I know that by beginning to write these things out would inspire me to start drawing again for the first time in about a year! I'm a horrible procrastinator as the infrequency of my posts on this blog should attest. I haven't really completed any finished artwork to talk about since I was wed in 2006. Until now.

This is the first page of my comic and I started doing the rough pencils for page 2 last night. I'm excited and at the same time apprehensive at the same time.

This book idea has been something close to my heart for over ten years now, and every time I try to start working on it I only get a few pieces done and then run out of steam. You could say that these past failures have made me loose faith in myself to the point now that I don't really think I'll ever finish it.

I've seen many Christian comic books over the years, ranging from really good to awful. And every time I see them I feel like maybe God is calling me to make one for Him. I just don't know if it's really Him or just my own flesh telling me what I want to hear.

I guess eventually I'll find out eh? As of right now I'm once again working on the idea, and if any of you reading this are believers I ask you to pray for me that for once in my life I could actually finish the project. And that God would guide me in doing so, I want this story and artwork to be both entertaining and glorifying to Him. Even if it never sees publication I'd love to at least say that I wrote and drew this story, at least for my own satisfaction.

When, If, I finish the next page I'll post it for you. Maybe with a little more information about the specifics of my story. Please feel free to leave your comments on the art, or the idea of a Christian comic book in general.

What life has taught me.

My beautiful wife told me today that next to her father I'm the smartest person she knows. I think that's so sweet of her. And it's kind of funny. Funny how others see you differently than you see yourself.

I don't really know a whole lot of things. Below is what I do know (Or at least think I do) and how I came to know it. It's long so I won't blame you if you want to skip to the bullets at the bottom and just cut to the chase. If not, then read on and get to know me a little better.

Like my wife Stacey, I'm an only child. Born to two simple country people that moved to the city to find their fortunes. That may sound romantic to some but it really wasn't. I know that my mother and father loved each other, but there was little romance.

My mother was from Kentucky and she was 24 when she met my dad who was 35. He, an illiterate from West Virginia worked in a stamping plant in Detroit, and still lived with his parents because he couldn't read enough to make it on his own. Mom married him mostly because he was kind to her and she thought that at 24 she was an old maid.

I know this because my mother told me. She talked to me a lot about her life when I was a child. I don't think she really expected me to remember any of it, or understand. It was just that she was mostly a lonely and melancholy housewife who needed SOMEONE to talk to.

My father likes to romanticize their past and believes that it was some great love story. And to his perceptions it probably is. He is a simple person with simple needs and pleasures. As long as there is no strife he's happy. For once in my life I'm glad that he can't read. That way he'll never find this. Not for any money in the world would I want to shatter his illusions. My mom passed away in 1990 and now that I'm grown up, married and on my own I think that sometimes his illusions are all he has to keep him company.

When I was a teenager I hated his guts. Now that I'm a man, (or what I pass off as one.) I love him dearly.

Mom died when I was 14 years old. This left me taking care of my dad from then on out and my childhood ended. But in truth it actually ended the year before once Mom was too sick to do anything. I hated my dad for not being able to be a parent to me. I hated that he had a learning disability. Sometimes to this day I hate my family for not stepping in to help me. They didn't care though and in part I understand, they had their own lives to live I guess.

On New Years Day 1993 my Dad went on what my Mom would have called a "Kelley fit" and beat me in my bed in the pre-dawn hours of the morning. The struggle of a father and his teenage son had reached a point where he just couldn't handle it anymore.

This time my mom's side of the family tried to help a bit. They took me to one of my cousin's house for a few days to let my Dad and I "cool off". While I was gone, the police were called and when my Dad talked to them he told them that I was this crazy teenager that was out of control. The police never even talked to me to see what happened, they took Dad at his word even though he'd beat me so bad that his right hand was swelled up like an overripe fruit.

While I was still at my cousin's house. One of them, whom will remain nameless, tried to make me "fess up" that I had instigated the whole situation and admit that it was all my fault. I felt so alone.

But not as alone as two days later when I packed some of my favorite belongings into my gym bag and left the house. Dad thought I was just going to school, but I was running away from home. I did go to school that day however, I told my guidance counselor about what had happened and he wanted to put me into a boy's home or foster care. This terrified me so I snuck out of school before anything could be done.

I eventually ended up living with an aunt from my dad's side of the family. She took me in but I don't really think it was because she cared as much as she let on. Don't get me wrong I DO think she did care to an extent. But I think that what motivated her to move me in, was my $400 a month social security check.

Life at my aunt's house was far from ideal. Her only son dropped out of school that first year I lived with them and began to spend all his time smoking pot and partying. A few of my other cousins soon began to live at my aunt's house too and it was drug and party central all the time.

I remember laying in bed on school nights miserable because the noise in the living room was so loud that I couldn't get to sleep. Laying there watching the hours tick by till it was time to get up and go to school. I would often have to step over people passed out on the floor as I'd make my way to the front door to leave.

My Aunt didn't really care all that much, she was never there. She spent 90% of her time with her drunk ex-husband and only came home once a week to do laundry. Often she wouldn't even be home for the whole day. She'd come home in the morning, do the laundry and then leave in the evening to be with her ex for another week.

I appreciated that my Aunt took me off the street, but I also hated her and my cousins. It surprises me now that I had the good sense to at least finish High School. Wasn't smart enough to go to college though but oh well "them's the breaks" as some say.

The silver lining was the Garcia family. Their son was friends with my cousin and for no known reason but true kindness the father of that family reached out to me. His name is George, and he's everything my dad was not. Smart, articulate, imaginative, and most importantly he was accepting.

I would spend every minute I could at the Garcia house. Whenever school was out for the summer they would let me stay at their home until it started up again. The same for all the holiday breaks and weekends. George would set up late at night talking with me, playing video games and teaching me about computers and ham radios.

I did finish High School eventually, two years late because of the time I missed when my mother was sick and dying and the depression that I fell into afterward.

Once I finished school I finally succumbed to temptation and began to party and experiment with drugs with my cousins.

I wasted about a year of my life stoned on pot or tripping on acid. But eventually God got through to me and made me realize that I didn't want to live my life that way. I was able to break out of those bad habits with the only hold over being a pack a day cigarette habit which I'm still trying to break.

I finally moved out of my aunt's house to a place of my own and almost made the mistake of marrying the wrong girl. It was a very co-dependent relationship that I had with her, and most of it was based upon lies. Mine. I was willing to do or say anything just to be accepted.

God thankfully broke me out of that situation as well. Well, to be truthful he had to drag me kicking and screaming out of it. I had no clue what I wanted except to be accepted and in some kind of relationship, any kind of relationship so that I wouldn't be alone.

The next couple of years were really tough. Although I cried and complained the whole time, God began to teach me that I didn't NEED others to be O.K. with myself, I only WANTED others.

At the same time, I began to really struggle with O.C.D. though I didn't know that was what was wrong with me at the time. I thought that I had committed the unpardonable sin and it was driving me crazy. It was all that I could think about and looking back upon that time I do not know how I continued to function and hold a job.

I was nearly at the point of suicide before I got help. But it did do one good thing for me. When I thought that I was damned beyond all hope of redemption it made me realize that the ONLY one I really needed to be O.K. was God. It was also during this time that my real Dad and I began to heal our relationship and that I came to love him again.

Finally around 2005 I met Stacey, on the internet of all places. She and I hit it off very quickly and I realized that I really was in love this time. Fearful of repeating my past mistakes I worked diligently to be open and honest with her about everything.

And I do mean everything.

The only person who knows more about me than Stacey is God I think.

I expected her to turn away in disgust but to my total surprise she didn't. She says that the flaws that I reveal to her makes her love me more because I'm real. (Me, real, go figure.)

Anyway, the rest is history as they say. Stacey and I were wed on May 3rd 2006 in the same back yard where my parents had their wedding reception 30 years prior. Is that romantic? It is to me and Stacey at least, and I guess that's all that matters.

Has it been happily ever after? No. We've had our arguments and trials like everyone does. And we continue on, leaning on God to help and guide us.

So why have I written this enormously long post? I forget....Oh yes! I was going to talk about what life has taught me. Not much, but I thank God for what I DO know, and I guess this is it.

• Anyone can to ANYTHING. Good or bad. Those horrible things that you tell yourself you would NEVER do? Oh yeah, in the right set of circumstances we ALL would. So it's best to do what you can (I know that it's hard.) not to judge someone else or look down on them.

• It's also good not to have too high of an opinion of yourself based on what you have done and wouldn't do. All it takes is for one small tiny thing to change everything you THINK you know about yourself.

• There are no heros. Only people, be you a bum, millionaire or a priest it makes no difference. I've seen preachers who beat their kids and atheists who are wonderful people. In the end we're all the same, just people, and were very imperfect. The only true hero you can have and trust in is Jesus Christ. The rest of us are "just plain folks".

• True family is what you make it. Your uncle can be a stranger to you and your coworker can actually be the best brother you've ever had. So love whatever family you have because whether their your uncle of your coworker they are precious.
  

• True love is a choice, NOT a feeling. No one falls in love, you fall in a mud puddle or off a ladder. Whether you think you do or not you choose to love someone. Even if you don't know when or how you made the choice. To me, choosing to love someone even when you know just how messed up they really are is true romance.

• Your feelings can sometimes be liars. If you believe a lie long enough you can have truly strong feelings that back it up. But that doesn't make it true. The truth can sometimes feel fake and alien because of the strangeness of it, or because of the lies we've believed. But if you ignore the feelings and discard the lies, God can help your feelings to catch up with what is really true. The most saintly people I know often say they feel like such horrible sinners.

• You can't make anyone do anything. You can't change anyone but yourself and that's going to be much harder than you think. Without God most of the changes you make are for the worst or superficial. So what makes you think that your special or smart enough to make someone else change?

• Jesus is Lord. Whether you acknowledge Him as so or not, He is sovereign over all. No matter how out of control life may seem God is still in control. Luckily for us He loves us and died for our sins and rose again. But He's wise enough not to make you believe in him. He wants you to choose to believe in and love him. That's the only way it can be real.
• Lastly, this post is way too long. If you've read this far you deserve a medal, so I'll close and say "Goodnight."