I don’t sleep the way I used to, in quiet spells of dreams and cool twists
I can’t possibly go up those tall stairs to my bedroom
without releasing the weight of my fingers into another space
my hands will push letters and rivers of white will burst outside of my head
I will say things I would not do
I will do things I would never say
caught in between, like a sturgeon and the silt
words as floppy as fishes
will swim upstream to spawn
if not completely undone by the journey
will develop into erstwhile muses, and swim back in the other direction
sturgeon created with marker and a touch of white acrylic a few weeks ago
•sturgeons are in trouble, over the years their numbers have significantly dropped
•the term “rivers of white” is a traditional typesetter’s term for irregular word spacing, when attempting to justify copy (justify = both left and right margins are flush)
Why balloons? Why not. I think we all deserve colorful balloons every now and again. We adults were children once, long ago. Inside many of us an inquisitive, excited, optimistic…inner child presses near the surface. But we keep our inner children locked up tightly. Why would we want anyone to notice our zany, sparkling potential? And yes, sometimes a ridiculous or vulnerable dimension might sneak out. Aged innocence sometimes becomes hardened apathy. No one likes to be hurt. No one likes to appear silly. No one likes wearing their ‘heart on their sleeve’…
But I say today, let’s be silly. Let your inner child out, even just a little bit. Enjoy the bliss that inexperience brings. Let down your guard. Smile at a stranger. Hug yourself. Live this day as a child, not as an adult dreading the start of another long work week.
And if your balloon pops with a big noise, floats away in the blue sky or looses its air, simply get another one in a different color and shape… Zoo balloons only cost a penny.
Zoo balloons rendered with Tombow Markers created while feeling silly. (a very talented artist/blogger, In Freckles, recommended trying Tombows and I must say I’m lovin’ them. Sometimes, using the Prisma pencils can take a toll on the wrist)
Galeen likes sticking her hands where they don’t belong (this might be cause for concern as she ages up). But she is a smart, little girl, and for now her brain is in control of her hands.
Galeen reads a wall-hanging filled with quotes and hugs her cherished, stuffed Einstein doll, whenever she needs to turn her grey matter, red-hot.
If at first, the idea is not absurd, then there is no hope for it.
We can’t solve problems by using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them.
The true sign of intelligence is not knowledge but imagination.
Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere.
The important thing is to not stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing.
The only thing that interferes with my learning is my education.
Imagination is everything. It is the preview of life’s coming attractions.
I am enough of an artist to draw freely upon my imagination. Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.
Anyone who has never made a mistake has never tried anything new.
The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.
Thank you. May the creative force be with you in your waking hours. May the creative force keep you entranced in your nightly dreams.
Blogtox tomorrow. If all goes well and the blog gods are with me, I should be back to WordPress this weekend, maybeeeeeeeeeeeee…
I admit to being somewhat tech-challenged. I know the reason why and I’m trying to face my fears. Almost sixteen years ago I held a corporate job. I loved nearly every aspect of that insane day-in-and day-out grind. I was the Art Director for Prentice Hall Education, High School Division. I came in at an entry-level position, working my way up the corporate rock wall and can tell you there is so much more to ten-pound textbooks than meets the eye.
We designers were using Pantone markers when from over the horizon a white steed with an Apple in its mouth and a saddle-sized CPU on its powerful back came charging. Our world was rocked. We all were gifted shiny, new Macs.
I learned how to navigate my way around easily enough. I was designing, enjoying and somewhat reckless in obtaining ‘real’ knowledge. My designs looked as they should. I didn’t worry about production issues because there was a separate department for that and for serious computer issues there was yet another department filled with brilliant techies. As both these departments grew more savvy, I went the other way. I was learning management stuff and was no longer hands-on.
I left Prentice Hall when my heart knew (as it had for some time) I wasn’t cut out for work and raising my first child. I’d overestimated my multitasking prowess. All the color-coding in the world couldn’t help me (though I did color-code my infant daughters toys for a while–I know, I know…).
Fast forward past two kiddies. Instead of a stay-at-home mom, I become a stay-near-home mom. I return to writing, drawing, painting and all things creative. I find my way back to the beginning of a new path. I return to the heavy, black Mac Powerbook G3 I’d proudly purchased before leaving Prentice Hall. I jumped into Word and tinkered around in Adobe. At the first sign of trouble I yelled out for Tech Support but no one came. I’ve been yelling ever since.