Madeline Osigian

In Memoriam Wheelice "Pete" Wilson, Jr. My first & favorite director ~      Sometimes courage begins before you even need it.      My brother and I began participating in our local community theater at ages 6 and 8, respectively. We played the roles of chicks/goslings, which required one costume change of a yellow pillowcase (chick) to a purple pillowcase (gosling). From opening night, we were hooked . . .      We went on to do a combined twelve shows at the same theater, seven of which we were both in.      Our longtime theater director, who we first met in 2007, passed away last month, and today we honored him with a celebration of life at the new black box theater that was his long-held dream.      I wrote the following post the week he passed away as I reflected on all he had taught me. 6 Ways Acting Taught Me Courage 1. No stage fright. This is the one you were most expecting to see on this list. So I've...

      Although I am relatively new to this whole adult life, I am learning things every day—both practically and conceptually—that shatter some of my preconceived childhood expectations for adulthood. I was, to put it bluntly, very wrong. Did I think that adults had it all figured out and never felt guilt or frustration or confusion? Maybe subconsciously, I did . . . As a child, I thought that an adult blowing their life savings on any purchase was incredibly irresponsible. As an adult, I see how easy it would be to spend one’s entire life savings on a car, a house, a wedding or honeymoon, etc. Adult things are expensive!   As a child, I believed adults had no free time but was told to “enjoy my freedom while it lasted.” As an adult, I understand that a full-time job doesn’t mean a lack of freedom but a need to reprioritize and find a balance in each season of life.   As a child, I was excited for each new school year and its changes. In college, too, I delighte...

       As writers, so much of our work goes unseen.      And I'm not just talking about the strenuous behind-the-screen writing process "work" that readers can only imagine. I'm also talking about the works themselves: rough drafts stuffed in tattered notebooks, the drafted texts in the Notes section of our phones, the journal entries, the sad poetry, and the happy love songs that we scribble with a pen or thumb onto a screen.      So much goes unpublished, unseen, unrecognized. But we write it from the depths of our souls anyway.      The polished compositions—the pristine manuscripts, the well-edited personal statements, and cried-over twenty-page academic essays—are the ones that we send out into the world.      The public sees these labors as valuable, but they are not always labors of love as much as they are labors of completion to display our competence. It's as if we have to prove our writing's worth...

     Maybe you don't think you have time to read a book.      Maybe you're trying to write the next great American novel.      Maybe you're tired of returning library books before you've finished reading them.      Maybe you're tired of getting lost on your phone and want to record your favorite moments from this year on paper.      In the past, I've written an entire series on how to get more out of your reading life and have briefly touched on writing . Ultimately, however, your reading life and writing life are up to you—your schedule and your priorities determine how much reading and writing you can squeeze into the average day.      This week, with the power out across the state and many people in search of a hobby to fill their days, it's time to return to the manual hobbies that laymen think of as academic. Reading and writing are not just for the degree-seeking student though; they are for...

  This post is the first of five in a series that I am calling Imperfectionism. It's about holding ourselves to a standard of God's grace, not perfection. Read 'em and deep[ly]. She believes in God's truth to her core, Yet everyone says She's the "good girl," And she wants to be more. More than a stamp of approval, She desires the standard's removal. More than a test, She yearns for grace and rest. Not to be too much or too little, Her life will be a bit messy in the middle. She rolls out of bed and greets the day, Without too much thought to her way. When her teachers would applaud, She wanted to shrink. "Don't give me laud, When it's of God you should think." Her life may be wrecked, Yet perfection He doesn't expect. She is perfectly sought, In freedom, she thought: "I will leave it today, A bed unmade." ~Madeline

“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.” —Terry Pratchett      I did it. In 42 days, I will graduate with my Bachelor of Arts in English Writing with a psychology minor. I have been in college for just three school years. Thanks to dual credit classes, I am graduating early. I cannot even imagine a fourth year of college at this point. I am ready to be out.      In those years and months since I went off for my freshman year, I have written 20 blog posts. Honestly, that is way more than I originally expected to write during the busy college years and more than I thought I'd be totaling up today at the end of my undergraduate career.      The aesthetic and methods of blogging embedded in my being have stayed with me throughout co...

     Most people who have known me well for more than a few weeks know that Madeleine L'Engle is my favorite author, though she is not my namesake.      Who is Madeleine L'Engle?      I have to briefly explain that she is the genius behind the book series A Wrinkle in Time . Most people have at least heard of the first book of the same name since the release of Disney's movie in 2018.      But what I love most about Madeleine L'Engle is her soul's similarity to mine, a revelation I had while reading her first published journal, A Circle of Quiet (Crosswicks Journal, No. 1) . I gave this book five stars on Goodreads, and it moved at lightning speed to the top of my favorite nonfiction books.      I've gone on to read L'Engle's other Crosswicks Journals, and I recently finished one of her nonfiction books, Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art . This one had been quoted so many times b...

You have no homework to do You have no one to listen to you speak And so write in this safe space Tell the stories you long to leak. MISSISSIPPI Crooked letters and humpbacked whales Dancing before my eyes I didn’t know anything but that I didn’t like Oklahoma or Alabama. And so I came to a place Where they write their letters crooked And I took it upon myself to straighten them out Letters and essays and blog posts and texts. I found typos and flaws And terrific friends Who reminded me that Millillilli isn’t a word So I won’t straighten Mississippi out. ~Madeline

     We had snow in Mississippi.      And I say we because I am no longer alone  at  college. I am surrounded by dozens - dare I say hundreds - of people who are choosing to go on this college adventure with me.      I have friends whose papers I edit, friends who encourage me to write (though not online. my apologies.), friends who point me to the Lord, friends who I can be goofy and dance with, and friends who I miss very much.      There's not a lot I can say to sum up what this semester has meant to me. I'm 1/6 of the way through this college journey, and I want to hold on to every moment.      What was this semester like? It was...

Hello, hallowed walls, hallowed halls. Clock tower, bell tower, Traditions rising strong. You have much to teach me, but I have more. All I have brought is myself and some dorm decor, But you have so much for this little mind of mine. I'll grow as a person. I'll grow as a student. My portfolio will never be the same, Nor will my bank account. Yes, the days are long, and the nights are longer. It's hard not to get them mixed up.

241 glorious years ago, That freedom cry rang out. The bells pealed, The signatures set in irrevocable ink. Freedom declared, word slowly spread to the other states. A young woman with a child on her hip smiles With tears in her eyes To know her child has a future in a newly formed nation. It was observed in the following years as Independence Day, With parades, fireworks, speeches, and bunting in red, white, and blue. An entire nation, separated by time zones and thousands of miles Yet united in their celebration of a budding nation. Though John Adams said July 2nd Would forever be remembered by history, 241 glorious years ago today, Is the day in history we recognize best. The fourth stands as we stand together To remember a nation, a history, a hope. And across the country, we gather to give our nation Yet another united cry of "happy birthday." ~Madeline

"If your actions inspire others to dream more, learn more, do more, and become more, you are a leader." ~John Quincy Adams      Today is the day I turn eighteen. Eighteen on the eighteenth, actually, meaning it's my golden birthday. It's my first day of adulthood. Finally, it's Father's Day.      When a friend asked how I felt on my last day before adulthood, I said, "I feel like I have always been an adult, and now I'm finally close to being legally an adult."      It's true. There's a lot more I can do now.

Goodbye, high school. Farewell, freshman year, With all your excitements and pride. You were the year of finding true friends And unintentionally making a few enemies. Everyone pretends to hate freshmen, But we knew they loved us deep down. I moved a lot freshman year And learned a lot too. Farewell, sophomore year, You grand irrelevance. The year I grew through the pain And the one I thought I was mature in.

{If you ever wonder what I do with those random pockets of downtime or late-night muses, here's a sneak peak.}      I sorted well-known Bible characters into Hogwarts houses after finishing Harry Potter for the first time.      I've avoided talking about HP thus far because it can get really controversial really fast. But if you ever wondered, I have read them (as of 2016), and I enjoyed them. (As for the morality of them: just obey your parents, and you're golden.)      I identify with the house of Ravenclaw and was officially sorted into it on Pottermore. So though I am partial, I had a lot of fun thinking through Bible characters (and let's be real, people I know in real life) and sorting them.

    Do you ever find yourself losing mental games to none other than yourself? Some days, darling, you'll play against you. At least, that's what Dr. Seuss has to say.      It's a long, difficult battle we've been given, but it's time for you to fight on your own side.       Read my first post on Burning Youth here! ~Madeline

     Guys. I have been blogging for four whole years! Four blogging years must convert to like 40 real-life years.      I've learned so much in my "four decades". I've taken time to find out what in the world HTML and SEO and all that other jibber-jabber is.      And I've learned life lessons too. I mean, blogging lessons. Yes, naturally. As you can see, I'm a pro and totally know what I'm doing. :)      40 Things I Learned in 4 Years of Blogging How to make graphics in PicMonkey Blogging is hard What HTML and SEO are (not that I am a pro with either) How to balance school/life and blogging How to make social media buttons How to post pictures from my phone so I don't have to email them to myself How to write in a time crunch How to make graphics that link to another page How to use and optimize MailChimp To never give up, even if no one comments To give the glory to God How to make adorable business card...

Dear Orange, Your hues are not golden yellow. Your orangeness disturbs me. I hate to hate a color with so much potential, but I cannot love you with all your pride. If only you would pick between yellow and red. Make up your mind! Are you dark or light? Bold or bright? I cannot pretend that your shades attract me. I wish I could love you like some do. But I'm afraid that I never can Nor ever will. I avoid you in stores, On streets with construction, Or with coloring book in hand. Because you, Orange, never cooperate with any other color. You're a rebel, alone, With your back up against a white void. Afraid to talk, afraid to walk, You freeze up some part of me. At least black is classy. White is pure. Red is bold, Yellow cheery. But you, oh you! Whether neon or dull, You cannot excite me, Cannot delight me. My chest tightens, And I swallow. I hate to hate a color, But it's you. ~Madeline

     Soon my junior year will be gone, over, done. The 11 will become a 12. The "ju" will become a "se." I will be in the oldest group of high schoolers.      My junior year taught me so much about myself. I learned my personality type, how to say no, how to manage time and commitments, and that I can take on college-level courses.      Here are some of the other facts I learned about myself, whether fun or deep or both:  // Personalities, the future, books, and God are four somewhat abstract concepts, but they are my four favorite things to talk about.  // I can let my true self shine through in as few words as possible. (See Ecclesiastes 6:11, one of my new favorite verses for its sassiness.)  // I don't want to read a book that smart people would think is stupid.  // It can be so hard to find a friend that is "an equal in age, intellect, and social standing ...

     Whenever I try to think back to my freshman year, even the end of it, it's hard to picture. It seems so long ago, and everything was so different. Some of the girls I mentor are finishing their freshman year, and that is crazy!      I think this post is relevant to anyone who has found themselves far from where they once were.      So here are some of the differences between freshman year and junior year. Freshman year, I didn't know what high school would look like. Now, I feel like a pro. Freshman year, I was considered a newbie by my high schoolers. Now, I'm one of the oldest. Freshman year, I was in a transition with my living situation (remember the duplex ?) Now, I am settled in our home; I know it will be my home at least until I graduate. Freshman year, I was sharing a room. Now, I have my own perfect space. Freshman year, I was drowning in library books that I would never get to. Now, I am reading...

Dear new year,      I'm new here, and I was hoping you could show me around. I'm full of excitement for what you hold, whether lost dreams or mountaintop thrills. Both the sadnesses and joys you will bring are beautiful to me.      I'm on page 1 of 365 in this adventure story. My darling year, you are full of mystery, action, and poetry.       New months, what do you know about hope? I'd like for you to tell me all you know. Experiential knowledge is better than anything Google can tell me. I want hope to sink into my soul. I want to be anchored in The Hope and trust Him every moment.       New year, you don't have any obligation to do anything for me. But I do want to have an obligation to you. I want to make you smile. I want to make every day of you the best I can, and I want to be your friend. Love, Madeline