The simplicity of a dog’s tail measuring more than temperature. How that tail remains alert until its owner unearths a treasure. A perfect ball – mushy, once yellow – perfect just the same. It’s Mojo’s treasure. The purity of finding bliss. Wind be damned. The grey sky an extemporaneous play with an early curtain call. How Mojo’s tail flies – a noble waving banner from the winning side. The captivating colors of victory unfurl. Mojo’s tail is happy as is he – by extension…
May you dream of finding singular happiness in the simple things…
Mojo’s pics snapped this blustery morning.
Red wolf (endangered) with a happy tail created last week with marker and pencil.
Our Moment
In our moment
we are invincible
in mind
in body
Our moment ceases
we are invisible
in mind
in body
Our moment remembered
we are alive
in love
in spirit
Thank you. May you dream of everlasting…
Girl with Dirty Cabbage Patch, pastel created long before I had children
The Land of Little
My Friends,
Long ago
in the land of little
a big girl smiled
she worked small movements
she moved in tight steps
she managed
to be small
in the land of little
Long ago
in the land of little
trotted a pony
the big girl smiled
life was pretty ponies
and giant dreams
stepping up
she was asked
to step down
too big
for the little pony
big enough
to hide the tears
big enough
to have
smaller dreams
in the land of little
May you dream of galloping on a prancing pony with smooth, satin grass underfoot…
Shetland Pony painted when I was little 🙂
Rubbing Earth’s Elbows
My Friends,
the sun rubs earth’s elbows
the moon caresses her back
the wind feathers the soil
the rain cleanses her wounds
the fire titillates new life
the ice sculpts her bed
the clouds find purchase
the mountains alight
her muse sustains us
in perpetual current
as dried leaves fluttering away…
Autumn Leaves
Thank you. May you dream of the seasons – old friends conversing at a tea party graciously allowing one another time to tell their tales…
Galeen in Autumn, collage created a few months ago. Published in a prior post.
Outside the Window
My Friends,
Outside the window buildings twirl into the clouds
Inside are wisps of twisted thought
Up in the skies are throbbing raptor hearts
Inside are thumps of programmed expectancy
Westward are sands that time cannot shift
Inside – the tap, tap, tap of an egg timer
Under the waters coral architects sculpt
Inside are teardrops falling down a drain
Outside the window the world plays against the glass
Inside the sun stops reaching
May you dream while awake…
Dinophor
My Friends,
We lived as kings
none as fierce
We unleashed massive power
taking what we needed
Impenetrable as we were
we did not understand
our inability to punch through
the black clouds
We lived as kings…
Thank you. May you dream of blue skies and rainbows.
T’rex Battle created in the 1990’s using Adobe Illustrator and a mouse.
February 12 Birthday Call
My Friends,
Every year I call my youngest brother who was born on Lincoln’s birthday. I ask if he’s had his birthday cake. Each year on February 12, I think about Mr. Lincoln too. I often (more than I care to admit) pretend I’m part of the crowd in Sangamon County back in 1832 when a tall, awkward man delivered his first public speech. I wish Mr. Lincoln and I could have shared a slice of birthday cake.
“…But if the good people in their wisdom shall see fit to keep me in the background, I have been too familiar with disappointments to be very much chagrined.”
Your friend and fellow citizen – A. Lincoln.
March 9, 1832
Thank you. May you dream of tall men wearing tall hats speaking of grand possibilities.
I created the computer portrait above using Adobe Illustrator and a mouse. At the time, Prentice Hall hadn’t purchased stylus pens or tablets. And as I mentioned in my previous post, I was learning enough with Adobe to be dangerous. This was done many years ago.
House Painting
My Friends,
The giant husband’s father was a house painter by trade. Pops was old-school. Everything had to be perfect and not a drop of Behr’s ever spilled. When it comes to painting the walls in our home, the giant husband expects no less. He’s a perfectionist. I’m not allowed to paint interior walls solid colors. I can’t paint neatly. Though, the giant husband doesn’t mind when I use more than one color. 🙂
The carousel (with Spirit the Horse) I painted in the delicate daughter’s room and the Jungle Babies mural I painted in our nursery. I painted the remaining murals in other homes. Sorry about the image quality.
Pops’ paintbrush hangs in a special place in my studio. It reminds me of how painting can bring happiness into ones life and home.
Thank you. May you dream of being surrounded by beautiful color…
The Legend of an Angry Catwoman
My Friends,
The legend of Wampus Cat speaks of a Native American woman of breathtaking beauty who possessed a passion for knowledge. A passion that would ultimately bind her in fur and claw.
Wampus Cat
Daring to learn the sacred stories of magic, she stole under the cloak of night and mountain cat-hide to eavesdrop on tribal elders. Medicine Man sensed something amiss and she was soon discovered. As punishment, Medicine Man transformed her. With one stroke of his mighty hand, her body absorbed the mountain-cat hide she wore. She morphed into a wicked creature destined to roam the woods and hills forever alone. She never acquired the knowledge she so desperately desired. She was educated in rage. Her mind knew what she’d become. Forever…
So if you venture into the forest deep, and should you hear the crack of wood or the soft patter of a two-hundred pound cat woman, you best run. There is no smooth-talking Wampus Cat – you’ll only piss her off.
Thank you. May you cuddle with sweet kittens and pampered pooches. And hopefully, Wampus Cat stays in the forest.
Wampus Cat sketched today while beautiful snow was falling. This sketch is unfinished. She needs work and I’m unsure about the tail – could look unnecessarily ‘phalic’ (might be a bad thing for an agitated woman). Final render will cover Wampus in black fur and white teeth 🙂
Fly Lord
My Friends,
What can I say about this sketch. Today I subbed as a teaching assistant in an English class. I had the privilege of listening to an intelligent teacher discuss, William Golding’s timeless masterpiece, Lord of the Flies. And since listening only requires ears, my fingers kept a pencil and paper bizzzyyy.
Mr. Golding never ceases to inspire.
Thank you. May your dreams be free of buzzing bugs.
For some reason I think Fly Lord should be playing a fiddle.
anntogether 