Tag Archives: writing

Job Box

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Long ago
letters were thoughtless
compartmentalized
in walls of wood
lined in metal
alone as they were
dull

strung together
blossomed
broad thoughts
narrow concepts
soft guilt
hard passion

letters
singular
sideways upside down
gathering residue
together
prescient

wipe clean
return home
job box
alone again
’til evenings events
rally
once more
job boxMay you dream of beautiful transient letters making gorgeous journeys…

Above: Long ago, individual metal letters for traditional typesetting were kept organized in job boxes. The boxes were actually drawers that slid into a larger metal cabinet. Today, these boxes are considered antiques. I was given a plain wooden job box in exchange for a painting I did for someone. I painted the box and added my kiddies plastic toys, when they no longer had need of them. 🙂

Sparkling

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breath just out of reach
in the lungs
in the soul
her heart was tired
her eyes more so

those lovely fingers
nails thin and yellow
once strung delicate white lights
on every willowy houseplant
claiming the toasted-cream living room

a mechanical bed usurping
the mahogany coffee table
those vertical houseplants
sparkling oxygen
into dying black irises

feathers and leaves usher her
to papa’s homeland
embracing over cobblestones
pattering bustling streets
inhaling baked flour

smiling at
a bouncing soccer ball
little white lights dripping
across canopies
warm bistros and red wine

her breath
whispering
I am home
I am home
I am home

those houseplants
sparkling

Robin's Tree

Robin’s Tree

May you dream of a full, beautiful life…
Tree painted about 2 years ago for Robin

February 12 Birthday Call

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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
abeThank 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. 

Life is Short

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My Friends,

Life is short
Throw jellybeans at a giant
Challenge a lion to a dueling roar
Whisper into the wind’s ear
Sail the ocean aboard a paper boat
Howl at the moon during sunrise

Life is short
Live it long…
bullbloardmy tablecar and max on roadThank you. Dream until you fall asleep
Kitchen bulletin board and studio table photographed 7 pm tonight. My kiddies photo taken twelve years ago.

Charlie’s Ears

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My Friends,
Yesterday’s doll conversations brought back fond memories of a cherished childhood friend. His name was Charlie. He had curled pink fur and bright blue eyes that somehow didn’t seem right, but were. I remember many a dark night when Charlie was my cuddle pal.

I can’t remember why I cut Charlie’s long ears off. They were most likely cropped to better match his eyes. I can’t recall what eventually became of my beloved pink buddy. Maybe he ran away in fear. His little lunatic owner might chop off his balled tail which didn’t look quite right, but was.

Charlie DogIt’s funny how sometimes making new friends can remind us of old lost ones. My blog buddy, Deb has an impossibly adorable dog named Charlie. If you’d like to see precious Charlie along with all his other four-legged house buddies visit C-Dog. Deb is a brilliant wordsmith and a great champion of animals in every conceivable color, even pink. And Fawn of Trigger’s Horse, handles her mom’s cherished doll collection with warmth and pride. Fawn is a volunteer extraordinaire and a multi-talented craftsperson.

Thank you. May you dream of your favorite childhood friend.

Charlie Dog drawn yesterday with misting eyes and markers

Big I’s

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My Friends,

Big I’s
I wish I had miles of long hair to toss out a tower window.
I wish I knew my children when I was a kid.
I wish I kept the little black motorcycle I never stayed upright on.
I wish I had a spotted cow in my backyard.
I wish I could wear a silver ball gown and waltz.
I wish stars were close enough to taste.
I wish I felt this young when I was.
I wish beds were made of clouds.
I wish I could share all my thoughts.
I wish I could wear night as a pair of mismatched socks.
I wish the sun set on my shoulder.
I wish words were made of water.
I wish dreams fit inside my secret decoder ring.
I wish I had a secret decoder ring.

Big Eyes And yes, my post title was inspired by the movie, Big Eyes which sadly I haven’t ‘scene’ yet, but hope to soon! In homage to Margaret Keane and her lovely Big Eyed Waifs, I’ve done a quick sketch of a modern Big Eyes. There is only one Margaret Keane. I am an imitator here, though I really did own a pair of earrings like the one(s) shown. Back in the 1990’s, a coworker quipped, “…waiting for the dog that’s gonna jump through those things!”
Big Tri - Eye

Thank you. May you dream wishes into your coffee…

Face Feature Mix done for studio class way back in, hum, I think 1983. Big Eyes Homage done quickly while wishing…

Ra, Ra, Cursive No Mah

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My Friends,
“In 1928, in Egypt, a strange device is found by an expedition. In the present days, the outcast linguist Dr. Daniel Jackson is invited by a mysterious woman to decipher an ancient hieroglyph in a military facility.” – Stargate. The giant husband was watching this 1994 ‘futuristic’ movie last night.

In the brief synopsis above the words, linguist, decipher and hieroglyph whisper like hidden pyramid treasures. Between fake Ra maiming humans and an awkward linguist deciphering glyphs, Stargate fashioned a perfect springboard for utilizing my Egyptian fella and chatting about the demise of handwriting. Centuries before we touched screens, our fingers created cryptic images, developed fascinating symbols and pressed elegant writing implements in thought.

In the Fall of 2014, the giant husband and I attended the delicate daughter’s Honor Society Ceremony. Yes, we were proud. She works very hard and strives to do well. The irony in this celebratory evening was that many bright students, the delicate daughter included, took a long time signing the Honor Ledger. Signing in cursive didn’t come naturally to them. And why would it, when third grade was the last time they practiced loops and lines.

Today while we record our history electronically, many students struggle with the very concept of handwriting. Human history was born the instant we began writing it down. Our ‘current’ history is saved to digital devices, removable media and clouds in the ozone. A solar flare, an electrical burst…yikes! We might want to rethink the importance of handwriting especially since synthetic paper can be made from recycled plastic. We can label the return to handwriting – Retro Ink. Maybe the kiddies will think it’s something cool. And perhaps we could use a slogan like – When you think, put it in ink!
RaRa is the Egyptian Sun God and Father of the Gods. He symbolizes light, warmth and growth.

We grow by learning. We learn by reading. We read by writing… Thank you. May you dream of sailing on beautiful cursive letters with golden sails.

Ra created about one month ago for what reason I’m not sure other than to say I initially was planning to do some sort of bird… The pencil wants what the pencil wants. 🙂
Stargate Movie synopsis quote from IMDb.com

Sending thoughts of peace to France…

Lying for an Angel

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My Friends,
Sadly this tale is not a yarn. It is a true story, one that I’m not proud of. I was nine when hallowed inspiration struck. This creative shining moment in 1972 continues to cause me pangs of guilt. Even now I await delivery of a Time Machine ordered on Amazon, so I might return to the scene of my crime – the moment I lied for an angel.

My Grandmother’s Closet
My grandmother had her own bedroom in our home. It was a magical place. There was candy and small treasures wrapped in gift paper in her dresser. In the walk-in closet, she kept packages of Wrigley’s. The gum often called to me. I occasionally answered by sneaking a stick or two hoping it would never be missed. It never was. I thought myself clever.

The Inspiration
It was nearing Christmas – that most magical time in ‘kiddom.’ I can’t recall why I needed gum this particular morning but I did. I tiptoed into Grandma’s room and into the big closet. While borrowing a stick of gum, I heard footsteps and was forced to wait. As I held my breath, I began perusing Grandma’s knitting supplies. This closet was loaded with rainbow balls of wool and oodles of parchment patterns. Some wool was in balls while other threads were wrapped around cardboard cones. With my laser vision, I saw naked cones – I saw angels.
Ice Angel Cone

The Crime
In the blindness of inspired excitement, I threw caution to the wind. I took two large wool skeins and unravelled both until I held two precious cardboard cones in my thieving hands. I was going to make angels. There were swatches of fabric in our attic. One in particular, a beautiful light blue with silver and gold threads would be perfect for my angels’ gowns and the metallic pipe cleaners in my room could be fashioned into halos and wings.

The Lie
I cleverly concealed the heaping wool piles behind Grandma’s shoes. With the evidence camouflaged so was the crime. How did Grandma find the displaced wool so quickly? Hadn’t I been stealth? Hadn’t I swiped gum without a single repercussion ever? With five other siblings, there might be a chance to frame someone else, or I could outright lie when prosecuted. I remember Grandma calling me into her room and pointing to the woolen spaghetti. I remember her asking me if I unravelled the wool. I remember, with Christmas only weeks away, lying for an angel.

The Guilt
I don’t know what became of the first angel. The second, wearing a doily gown (there wasn’t enough blue fabric) remains with me. She hangs in my studio always nearby. I never admitted my crime to Grandma. And whenever I look at my cone angel she whispers, “Grandma knew all along. She kept the first angel, the one with the beautiful gown of blue, because she thought her precious.”
Angel ConeThank you. Dream of being the most honest version of yourself you can be 🙂

HAPPINESS AND PEACE IN THIS NEW YEAR, MY FRIENDS

 

Seeing through the Flog

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It is Valentine’s Day 2014. Outside is covered in snow too deep to even call it a blanket – it’s more like one of those comforters you start to shop for when you’re nearing 50 ’cause you’re always cold except on the nights you rip all the covers off ’cause your beyond human sweat.

Truth be told this is my second attempt at blogging. I began a blog 2 years ago (if I remember correctly) but stopped, fearing I didn’t quite grasp the medium. Here I am two years later hoping I’m a wee bit smarter because I read a blog book and watched WP tutorials. My fifteen-year old daughter can’t believe my tech ignorance at times, but in those moments I gently remind her how I helped her with some HS art projects  ’cause that’s what comes naturally to me. My thirteen-year old son will simply sigh and return to playing Xbox (during his alotted time of course!).

I’ve written over nine manuscripts (submitted to the big houses and have built an extensive rejection file thick enough to be used as booster seat – I did get a few second reads – those positive rejections have kept me writing), I draw and paint, sometimes attempt poetry, I now write a little monthly column for my local paper, I enjoy coming up with catchy slogans or images on tees, – in short, I’m all over the place and my places aren’t always connected. This new blog, anntogether is my best hope for getting all the things I love in one place while reading and seeing and enjoying what others do in this ginormous, creative community.

So here’s to a day of love, snow-shoveling and thinking good thoughts.

ps Please bear with me on my blog’s nakedness. I hope to add picts and color…as I go…