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I have no idea from where I get my artistic drive. My father worked on the back of a trash truck and retired from Johnson City. My mother bounced around from job to job never settling until her body decided it could no longer hold a steady job. Neither she nor my father graduated high school. That alone made me the black sheep of my family. I graduated in 1994 from Daniel Boone High School. I was a loner. I felt I needed no one to give me a sense of belonging. I had my books, my comic books, and my drawings. My drawings were what helped me through most of the aches and pains teenage life brings. I never had a picturesque home life. My mother and I never got along and my father would only listen to her complaints about me, if nothing more than to appease her so he would not incur any wrath upon himself. But I always had my grandmother, my dad’s mom. She was like an angel. She loved me like no one up until that time. She saw how much my drawing meant to me and being that she only made $400 a month could not afford to purchase me any drawing materials. So she kept some cheap packs of pens and pencils that could be sharpened and would often save me the plain white backs of bills and junk letters she received in the mail to draw on. I will always remember that. Years later I worked and eventually owned a small convenience store on Highway 75 near the airport. That is where I began to sell my art work. I would draw pictures of people’s favorite super heroes for their children as gifts. Then I dabbled in wood burning and those began to sell. After the store closed I also closed up drawing and most of my art with the exception of writing. ,So now I find myself focusing on one or the other or as my wonderful girl Lorie put it, my season. I have seasons. I have two books coming out and suddenly I find myself inspired to draw and the ideas are flowing. The inspiration came from a drawing my girlfriend Lorie asked me to do for her. A drawing to hang inside her office at work. I did it and now I am in that season — the season of art.

Love
Lorie Ann McReynolds

How do you define love? The Google definition states love is a noun and a verb. The noun definition is “an intense feeling of deep affection” for example — babies fill parents with feelings or love. It also is “a great interest and pleasure in something” for example — his love for football. As a verb, the definition is “feel deep affection for (someone)” for example — he loved his sister dearly or “like or enjoy very much” for example — I just love dancing. In the Bible, there are three different kinds of love. Eros is romantic love between a husband and a wife. Philos is brotherly love between friends and love between family members. Agape love is the unconditional love God has for us.

I wish the American language had different words for love. True love. For me, love is more than just a feeling. It is a choice. When I make a commitment to someone and tell them I love them, it is a choice I am making. I am choosing to love them during the good times which are easy. And the bad times which are not so easy. Don’t get me wrong, early on with my boyfriend Tim, I felt the butterflies in my stomach, birds singing and little hearts flying through the air. And I still feel all of them. Especially when it is time for him to come over for a date or just when I hear his voice on the phone. Even though we have only been together for five months, we have shared incredibly sweet and fun moments. But we have also had our challenging moments. We both came out of sad relationships where we were both hurt terribly. It was hard for us to trust someone else with our hearts. In the beginning, we also were not looking for anything serious. We met through Facebook and started talking. We realized we had many things in common and liked a lot of the same things. We talked every day and I found myself so looking forward to his calls. Then we met and it was like we had known each other forever. But like I said, we had to work through some things such as insecurities and hurt feelings from our individual pasts. All of which has made our relationship stronger.

I choose to trust him to protect my heart. I choose to believe everything he has told me and will ever tell me. He has never given me a reason not to believe him. My favorite thing to say to him is “I know I am not perfect,” and he will say “but you are perfect for me.” He is strong and handsome. Kind and smart. He is a Christian who has a solid relationship with the Lord. He opens my car door for me. He holds the door open at restaurants for elderly people. He has manners and very good taste in clothing. He has beautiful brown eyes and cute dimples when he smiles. But most of all, he treats me better than I have ever been treated. He has captured my heart like no other. He has taken away all my fears and most importantly — he makes me laugh. And he loves my laughter. I know he loves me, and I love him too. I am very blessed God allowed our paths to cross. I know he is not perfect — but he sure is perfect for me.