Things can fall apart, or threaten to, for many reasons, and then there’s got to be a leap of faith. Ultimately, when you’re at the edge, you have to go forward or backward; if you go forward, you have to jump together. ~ Yo-Yo Ma
Okay, mourning dove.
It’s just you and me.
One . . . two . . . three . . . JUMP!
We went for a walk at 8:00 this morning despite the cold temperature because we wanted to be back inside before the wind started blowing again. And we just made it. As soon as we returned, I went out to clean and refill the bird bath (which was filled with pine needles, dirt, and other debris from yesterday’s wind) and that’s when the wind began raging again. (Note: the bath’s already polluted but there’s no point in cleaning now).
As noted yesterday, my anxiety levels were high (update: the fire in Park County spread to Teller County and has now burned 1,200 acres) and I chose to put on music loud enough to drown out the sound of the heavy gusts of wind while I played with ink and paints.
I copied each of these animals from a drawing book and consider them a huge success. Not because the crocodile looks like she has mumps or because what appears to be an otter was actually supposed to be a weasel. No, I consider my little art session a success because for a while there I was not thinking about our wildfire evacuation kit, the extreme drought and water shortage here in the West, or how the Biden administration continues to authorize more oil and gas drilling on federal lands. Instead, I was focused on drawing silly little pictures and learning how to use paints.
And now I’m going back to my art table where I’ll turn up the music and create some more. Oh, and comfort Emma when she gets agitated about those 50-mph gusts of wind.
Wishing you calm wherever you are.
Marcel rehearsing his scary face. January 25, 2020.
People in the neighborhood are being creative with their candy offerings. One house has a long tube running from an upstairs window to the driveway. I think the trick or treaters are supposed to shout in the tube to make candy come down. Another house has a catapult. We’re setting out candy on a table in the driveway which isn’t nearly as creative, but it’s still a fine chocolate-delivery system.
Just did some research for what might be my next project.
Even if none of it pans out, I like this feeling. Wheels turning. Creative juices flowing. Endless possibilities. Huzzah!
House Finch. November 27, 2019
Simplicity is the final achievement. After one has played a vast quantity of notes and more notes, it is simplicity that emerges as the crowning reward of art. ~ Frederic Chopin
I’m brainstorming and jotting notes for a new middle-grade novel, and sometimes feel slightly overwhelmed by the possibilities for this story. Is it this? Or that? Here or there? There’s so much to consider.
This photo of me feels like the perfect image for this stage in the process and I’m posting it here as a reminder to myself: infinite possibilities are a gift.
Rustler Gulch Trail, July 26, 2018.
May I continue enjoying the creative journey as much as I did that wonderful hike. May I continue embracing the infinite landscape of my creative mind.
I’ve said this before and I’m gonna say it again: I’m very grateful for my creative life.
For the past few days, I’ve immersed myself in a work-in-progress project I’d had to put on hold for much of December while working on another, and yesterday told Zippy I’d fallen in love with the manuscript all over again. I’m grateful to love the work I do.
Today my gratitude is more specifically about the refuge my fiction provides. Admittedly, it’s not an impenetrable fortress. Earlier, I had to make a shaking-mad phone call to my House Rep’s office after learning about his pro-NSA surveillance vote and I just hopped onto Twitter in time to read about Agent Orange’s racist and hateful remarks about people from Haiti, Africa, and Latin America. The very act of writing that out has me so agitated, I’m now chewing at my cuticles. Clearly, the people and places in my head don’t keep the ugly at bay 24/7.
I do have an outlet when the current reality feels too horrible to contemplate. And I hope that’s true for everyone, whether it’s watching goat videos or smelling sweet puppy breath or welding sculptures or hiking or drumming or blowing raspberries on a baby’s chubby tummy or resting in a pool of sunshine or . . .
Please, do whatever it takes.
We did a whole lot today: Climate March + MOCO Museum for Banksy/Dali exhibits + Climate March again + FOAM Museum for William Eggleston’s LOS ALAMOS exhibit plus additional photography exhibits, and then dinner out at SNCKBR. (And yeah, I’m totally cognizant of the fact that there are a whole lotta acronyms in the preceding sentence.)
It’s been a good day here in Amsterdam. So good, in fact, that I’m having trouble picking just one image to represent the experience. (To add more pics would result in a marathon blog post, and I don’t have the bandwidth for that right now.) So I’m going to leave it at this quote that was painted on the wall at the Banksy exhibit:
Actually, this is THE perfect sentiment for the day. You know why? The “art” wasn’t just in those museums. It was also on display in Museumplein where all those people gathered to voice their concern/outrage/hopes/etc regarding the climate change affecting the planet.
We’re a creative species, and it’s gonna take a whole lotta outrage + art + action to get us out of this mess. It’s a daunting endeavor. But today, between the civic action outside the museums and the creativity exhibited inside, I truly believe that is possible.
Art is essential to our survival.
Image from Pexels.com
Now more than ever
creatives are essential.
Can’t let ugly win.
For me, when I ‘discover’ a story,
there is a feeling of buoyancy and clarity,
perhaps similar to early morning out on a prairie highway,
when darkness lifts and reveals
the outline of farmhouses and copses of trees in the distance.
~ David Bergen
Image from Pexels.com
To be an artist means never to avert one’s eyes.
~ Akira Kurosawa
Yes, I absolutely agree with Mr. Kurosawa. Art calls for the unflinching truth. However, sometime’s I’m with Zoey and just want to avert my gaze. Sometimes it’s just too damned much to process.
A banana box
becomes a cardboard playhouse
for a creative.
I don’t think the goal is, ‘How big a star did you ever become?’
I think the goal is, ‘Were you able to express yourself?’
And if you’re able to say yes, in any field, you’ve won.
If you paint, write, do mosaics, knit –
if it’s solving that part of your brain saying,
‘I need to do this,’ you’ve won.
~ Albert Brooks
Guess what? Today was a win!
To be clear: I didn’t get an Emmy. I just like the look.