Most of the talent in this world remains hidden. You have ideas, precious wonderful ideas! The problem is you leave them in a box lost in a cabinet and collecting dust. Your ideas are like hidden treasure burried deep in the sea. The good news is you can grab that box, open it and share those treasures with the world. Here’s how to open the box:
What breaths life into me? What an easy question! Art. Flowers. Love. Music. Books. I am creating every day. Art makes me happy. I’ve been creating for a long time and can’t imagine not creating. I like the paint. I love color. It’s knowing that I can take a plain canvas and make it my own. Art feeds my curiosity. All of my favorite things feed my curiosity. Curiosity and imagination are what give me life.
When things go wrong I imagine what they could be, will be and are. When it comes to my favorite book, it’s being transported to a new world. When it comes to flowers, I’m curious about the shape, color and then I wonder about tree, people, animals…
It’s the artist in me that knows this world is a beautiful place. Why even the snakes who give me the creeps have their own respect. The very phrase I keep going back to feeds my curiosity and imagination. I’m inspired to keep on creating!
Nature has given you the means to command respect. It is us who choose not to use those means.
Of course my art brain thinks of the rule of thirds. I was going to write about the rule of thirds. Instead what about three. Three is an odd number. Odd gets our attention. Odd is weird. It can’t easily be divided like four. You could have one and I can have one. Share the third. I much rather write about one. All it takes is one idea and more than three tries. Three strikes and you’re out. I strike out all the time but I’m still here. I am still here.
Thanks for reading! New blog time. Well see how it goes.
Words from my latest book project seems to sum up how I feel and what I like to do when I need to take it slow. Truth be told, I am a Labor Day child so I like to take it slow everyday.
One summer afternoon I sat near a turtle pond. I can still hear the flowing water. I can still feel the warmth of the sun. I sat in thought and sketch. A turtle sat on a rock. I in my chair. The turtle in its protected shell. My big floppy hat protects me. I wouldn’t want to swim in the pond nor do I fit. Sure, Turtles could rest on a chair but they prefer the coolness of the water, as do I.
I am here. I paint. All I want is to to be known for my style, my work, my style, and my color. Am I nervous for the days to come or the change that needs to happen. What would I do without the hand that holds my brush or the finger that allows me to type these very words. Wait I have an idea!
So where are you? What are you doing? Are you lending a helping hand?