Wedding Sparklers

Today’s Writing Goal

What kind of wedding photography and experiences would we like to get out of sparklers? What are some safety issues we should know when using sparklers at weddings? Where will we acquire said sparklers? How many sparklers will we need? Why do I want sparklers? What goes well with sparklers?

Today’s Headspace ✅ Favorite Colors

My first favorite color was forest green. I also loved dark blue-violets. Woodland greens, and deep ocean blues, filled my childhood imagination.

breath_of_fire_II_conceptart_EBLuh

I remember playing the JRPG Breath of Fire 2 and thinking, “That’s a really scary monster; look how blue it is!” I was absolutely mesmerized by this mythical creature’s blue skin. I’m not sure if this monster is the reason I liked these rich, heavy blue-violets, but it definitely marks an age where that color ruled my mind.

Breath of Fire was released in 1995, so I was ten years old.

Here’s the same monster in its sprite form. The colors were just as fascinating in-game as the instructional manual; as the Game Fan and GamePro magazines scattered through my bedroom.

Deathevan

My love for dark green came from trees. I remember explaining in an elementary school classroom, “I like green because it’s the color of trees,” and I’d visualize the fluffy-topped green trees in the back of the school, specifically; they were rich, lovely like emeralds.

Now my favorite colors are turquoise and mint. These are, I believe, mutations of the old color choices; turquoise was a product of a combination of blue and green, followed by a lightening—and mint is nothing more than trees caught in brilliant sunlight.

Someday, I’d like to return to the dark blue-violets and woody greens, to see where they take me; but in this present moment, at my wedding, turquoise and mint are my strong colors. My happy colors.

About Sparklers

Like color, light plays a recurring role through my life. I actually love light very much, though I prefer spending time in the dark; it’s the oscillating lights, the flickering luminescence of institutions—from K-12 to community college to Cal State classrooms—that turns me away from spending time in light.

I’m so overstimulated by the lifetime exposure to these immensely flickering lights, when I come home, I want light to stop. Yet my most poignant memories from vacations are related to light:

  • the light from spindly, porcupine toys, bursting from the tips of wands;
  • the light caught in dancing waters at Disneyland;
  • the light of a spinner Mom tucked in my Christmas stocking;
  • the light of stars sweeping by a telescope;
  • the light of fireworks along Lake Havasu;
  • the light of glow worms in New Zealand caves.

Light is such a wondrous and soul-warming experience; it’s information turned into delicate waves capable of mesmerizing us. Light is such an extraordinary phenomenon, we can use it to brainwash, hypnotize, and dazzle.

I wanted that kind of light at our wedding; not oscillating light.

Sparklers, to me, are like holding a flashing moment of fairy-light.

Wedding Sparklers vs. July 4th Sparklers

Since we’re getting married in July, it makes sense to consider July 5th sales for our reception sparkler fun. But when I read about sparklers and weddings more, I discovered these July 4th sparklers often have awful burn times.

The right wedding sparklers will burn for 3 minutes or more.

And some of the photography poses I’d like to attempt involve long-burning sparklers. For instance, the sparkler tunnel

This is the only absolutely-must-do photo I’d like to get with the sparklers, if for no other reason than it’s organic—it’s not as staged as, saying, writing a word with a sparkler—so I know, no matter what, it’s going to look fantastic. Organic, by its nature, looks fantastic.

That said, there are some other cool ideas that it’d be neat to try, and they also require sparklers with a longer burn time…

…”tiny fires” makes me sound fire-happy, when I had to take glassblowing just to overcome my fear of fire enough to feel all right next to a fireplace. Those fire-lit restaurant heaters used to unnerve me.

I figured, now that we’re nearing the end of June, I can visit our local firework stand, buy a pack of sparklers, and time how long they last. If they can’t get near 3 minutes, then I need to make a mail order. If, however, I’m just reading scary things online—and the July 4th sparkler experiment proves they last longer than the Internet says they will—then I can buy my sparklers locally.

And they can be colorful.

I like colorful.

Other Brilliant Lights

Any light deviating from an oscillating light is magic to behold. I’m more interested in being swarmed by gentle light than by the shape or form that light takes. For example, I love these LED lights in the shapes of stars…

Or these curtains of LED magic…

Or an ocean of nebulous lights, moving on walls and/or ceilings…

Vortexes of glittery light…

Gigantic blue-and-green lava lights…

Sculptural lights that soothe in spirals…

Bottle lights…

Butterfly rebirth lights…

Modern, reduced footprint lights…

These are all energy-based lights. Candlelight and moonlight can be lovely, too. And this all just scratches the surface of light’s potential. I’ve yet to ever feel I’m in a room with too many soft lights.

I just don’t like most oscillating current bulbs.

Which nixes an enormous portion of everyday life.

I don’t know why institutions haven’t converted to some of these LED options, beyond the benefits it’d provide sensory sensitive people. If money makes the world go ’round, then it’s LEDs, in the long run, that save on electricity. The amount of energy we could save, if we just converted government-funded locations to LEDs…

And that energy savings is long-term financial savings.

It’s just a matter of getting those first lights installed.

I could see myself going on a crusade to install LEDs at a college. For now, though, I admire alternative lighting within my home; and I’d like to incorporate a little bit of it at our wedding. I already have the LED lights for the fish bowl; the sparklers are planned.  Tunnels of sparkling, glowing betta splenden… what’s not to like?

My Mint Photography Pinterest

Want more photography ideas? I tried to separate them between darkness photography, and daytime photography, by creating this Mint & Photo Pinterest board…

I think this needs to happen. And this one. The others are optional. Oh, except this one. I think I like this effect for groomsmen and bridesmaids. I always choose angles vs. head-on. But those are the only three required photographs. Except for the sparkler tunnel. So four required photographs. Or was it five? Everything’s really pretty. It’s a hard decision-making process. I don’t like making decisions, except when I do. I feel too complicated. I must come off as too complicated. However I come off, I promise it’s even more mad hatter on the inside.

Advertisements

Wedding Sand Ceremony

Today’s Writing Goal

Today, my writing goal here at Wyvia, according to my Ideament:

Sand pouring; containers? colors?

But before I explore our wedding sand ceremony, I want to check in with my feelings; see where I’m at with the mortifying fear I experienced two days ago.

Today’s Headspace ✅ Remembering My First Community College Class

The first college class I took was interpersonal communications. I was seventeen years old, paralyzed by math phobia, unable to continue through trigonometry, and withdrawing from the honors program—so as a senior in high school, I only had three classes left to graduate.

This meant I could attend first through third period, then dodge campus before lunch period to take two classes at the community college across the street. And to avoid actually taking two classes, I could enroll for one class during the weekdays, and the other on Saturdays—then never attend the Saturday sessions and eat a failing grade.

I had a strange relationship with the concept of grading very early. Knowing I’d attend community college—never university—gave me the liberty to think like this. (Later, towards the end of my community college years, my relationship with grades would change—I left graduate school with a 4.0—but that deviates too far from the story.)

I valued interpersonal communications because it structured a skill I was meant to naturally learn (but never did)—how to socialize—and broke it down to essential steps. I read the textbook several times, far ahead of the assigned reading schedule. I highlighted, practiced, and developed immensely as a social-emotional creature.

I also had a good teacher; I cannot imagine the horrors interpersonal communications class could exact on an autistic person, if they had a trigger-happy, trolling teacher; if they had a teacher who thought learning happened by inciting someone, or punishing someone, rather than enchanting them—easing around their heart.

Today, even though I teach English—not interpersonal communications—I feel this teacher rise out of me, like a gentle ghost; I absorbed his values of nurturing versus laboring—of healing a student’s curiosity, rather than challenging a student’s defenses—and so I’m doubly grateful; in my first community college class, I learned how to finally build communicative bridges to neurotypical people, and I learned how to dispel fear from my students; I learned two life-changing superpowers.

I’d been reflecting on this miracle while taking a bath. I think many miracles happened throughout my twenties, but they’ve been buried by anxiety and depression. The good news is, as I wash anxiety and depression away, I find memories crystallized into opalescence—memories I haven’t been able to touch, change, or harm, so in my thirties, I can enjoy them in their purest form, through the lens of ten years of depression-clad wisdom.

Wedding Sand Ceremony

In addition to the betta splenden decorations Chase and I bought at Michaels Arts & Crafts yesterday, we also picked up some natural-tone, pearlescent sand—I love sand with hyperbolic colors, like those charcoal black or bone white beaches!—and a mermaid turquoise sand tone; they’re for our sand ceremony.

Chase’s dad suggested the sand ceremony months ago, which triggered fond memories I’d held of watch my friends’ sand ceremony, and now we’re at this point where we have our sand; we just need to select a container.

I love freestanding glass containers for sand ceremonies. Here are a few I found:

But I’m equally in love with box frames that combine artful wedding photography with the sand container:

And I’m inclined towards the latter option because Chase’s dad is a professional framer and photographer, and his sister is also a professional photographer, and Chase learned professional framing skills from his dad—it’s like a bunch of neon signs: Option B.

Then I yoyo to the former option, since in my glassblowing class, I fell in love with glass art—and what better functional art than the container for a sand ceremony?—so Option A, obviously!—Option A!

I think I would like either way. I like both options equally.