Archives for posts with tag: art

Holiday music fills the kitchen;
doggies snuggle in their beds,
waiting for all to rise.

We try to take each day as it comes,
living each moment as best we can,
seeking the lessons—
the ‘gifts’ within the challenges presented.

In this moment…the air releases a fine mist,
wrapping me in a coolness that comforts.

Back inside, I sit here with my mother-in-law as she works her crossword, her TV show in the background. I look at the words on the page, watching the thoughts dribble out as I tap the letters on the screen.

Peace and Love to all, and may you have a Merry Christmas.

I’ve always noticed and appreciated sculptures that greet visitors of public libraries.

But lately whenever I visit a different library, I am in awe; and even when I visit the same library over and over again, I stop to admire the sculptures and how they capture the beauty of reading and the library itself–a special home open to all to share and receive that which lies within the library walls.

Recently, I visited a library that was new (to me). I’m on a mission to obtain as many library cards as I can whenever we go to a nearby city and it makes sense. Although, it may not be convenient to physically check the books out from certain more distant locations, I gain a new library card, and online access to e-books and audio books. I enjoy visiting each of the library webpages to learn about new books and librarian recommendations.

These are just a couple of the sculptures from two different libraries. It’s always fun to see the vast differences in how an artist captures the magic of reading and the libraries.

A book that comes to mind is Know the Past, Find the Future: The New York Public Library at 100. It was one of my first free downloads, when it was available for free, when I purchased my first Kindle reader. I still need to come back to it and finish reading the reflections by various people on their favorite books from the collection.

Here I sit at the local coffee shop,
a circular construction, tables all around,
waterfalls in the background, trees reach
wide around the space, making me feel as
though I’m in a treehouse, and for these moments,
I feel free, at ease, childlike–
in my element.

Not too long after I applied for the library position, I had a reply from the Human Resources department stating that I did not meet the minimum qualifications, but that I had the opportunity to submit additional information to show that I had what was required.

Surprisingly, the news came as a slight disappointment, not an altogether shock, and ironically, a bit of a relief. In my head, I had listed the pros and cons and reality–and well, I have cast that stone and am ready to move on and will be ready for any interesting adventures that I cross roads with.

End of chapter.

A few months back when hubby and I were on the lookout for garage sales, we saw a sign for a backyard open studio art sale. This photo is of a piece that greeted us in the front yard. It made me smile immediately. I like the way the colors of the surrounding flowers compliment it perfectly.

I’ve been gravitating toward fiction for younger readers these days and biographies or memoir in audio format and any other fiction or non-fiction that grabs me. I have more time to listen while driving, and lately I’ve been too tired to keep my eyes open for long.

I don’t remember how I came across Nevermoor: The Trials of Morrigan Crow by Jessica Townsend. I listened to the audio version narrated by Gemma Whelan. I do remember reading that fans of the Harry Potter series may enjoy it. I must say I was immediately pulled into the story of Morrigan Crow, one of the ‘cursed children’ who who escapes her fate and finds herself whisked away into a world where anything is possible. The story was captivating, the writing lovely; just what I was needed to feed my imagination. I’m looking forward to book 2.

I think that’s it for now. The weather has cooled down dramatically. I’m sitting outside right now and almost ready to put a sweater on whereas the past few weeks the temperature has been in the high 90s. It feel good, cleansing in a way. I only pray that those effected and all the fire fighters are safe as they battle the many fires that have broken out across the country.

I sit here, feeling at peace,
the stress of the day unravels into the breeze,
Lucas stares off into the dusk,
watching the trees blow as he usually does,
inspecting the yard, barking when it suits him.
He’s satisfied, looks one last time, and goes back inside;
I follow his lead.
The day is done.

I’ve actually had fun attempting self-portraits in the past, and I still enjoy trying to draw myself from time to time. 

The urge most recently came about a few months ago when I decided to do a quick sketch from a photo to use instead of a photo of myself as my Avitar for a class I was taking. I liked how it turned out. 

This is a recent attempt that I decided to sketch because of two new things: my perm and new glasses. 

The glasses are inevitable. It was time, but the cost always hurts.

I’ve been wanting so much to come to the page, so I’m writing myself through it. I need to get back to my writing practice. Maybe I feel freer today because a class has ended, because the warm sunshine on my face as I walk to lunch energizes me, and because there is an end in sight to the busy season. 

It’s been at least 10 years since I last got a perm and I swore that I would not get another. I needed a change, a lift to my step. I plunged forward. The hair stylist, also owner of the salon, did a great job. She had done enough perms over the years, that I knew I was in good hands. 

Self-portraits have a tendency to reveal something we may have not noticed about ourselves in that moment that a regular photograph may not catch. Adding the color by mood and feeling adds another element. I love the process. 

An autumn day gives way to the feeling of winter. In the air the scent of someone cozy next to a warm fire. 

I look out the window waiting for my lunch, taking in the orange and yellow leaves against a perfectly grey sky. 

Rain shall come soon to wash away the impurities, wipe the slate clean to begin anew. 

Sitting amongst the birch trees,
I listen to the day fade in and out, as I put markings down on the page, coax an image that is enough for me to recognize this moment, eager to continue marking the days–marking the pages with, not only words, but real images. 

I sit here this morning against a backdrop of beautiful hills and a multitude of trees on the library grounds. Large art works, some familiar, having been here many years–permanent installations, others new to me.

The squeaking wheels of the mechanical pea cock titled the “Wheely, Whirly Peacock”, a crow clucks, small birds tweet in the distance. I sit here on the bench that faces the peacock, beauty all around, both natural and made by human hands.

As the sun warms my body, the breeze cools it down; lavender blossoms fill the air with their scent, carry in the wind and fill me with a sense of calm and of summertime.

I seem to have a slight addiction to page-a-day calendars, calendars in general, and of being surrounded by beauty–beauty in the way that this eye beholds it, anyway.

And so, I found myself on Amazon, searching for yet another calendar, even though I had already purchased two at a discount. I am happy with both, but I needed something more. I needed something visually beautiful to greet me every morning at my work space. I decided to go with the flowers again. A flower a day that could be in the form of a bouquet, a single close up, or flowering plants in their natural element.

While I was at it, I came across a wall calendar of glass art (I needed another to compliment the one I already have). I recognized this stunning art. The name looked familiar: CHIHULY. And then I was taken back to our visit to Las Vegas this past October and being inside the Bellagio Hotel and Casino to look at the autumn botanical garden display. When we walked into the lobby, we were greeted with the beautiful creation of Chihuly’s glass art. The interaction of the vibrant colors, shapes, and light was magnificent.

Amazon kindly brought to my attention that I might like to also purchase the Chihuly 2016 weekly planner. I usually pass on these temptations, then I thought about how nice it would be to see a different work of his art up close every week, and I also thought maybe I can use the weekly calendar to write a little something each day, a mini journal of my thoughts to highlight the day. It would force me to get to the page and re-develop a routine, keep the fire going–and it’s been great. I’ve only had the calendar a few days, but every morning that I see the calendar, I’m drawn into the pages by the pure beauty of its cover; somehow, it makes me want to reach for my pen and such an un-intimidating amount of space for each day; there are no excuses.

I love it and am happy with all of my new calendars; although, I do admit, that I may buy just one more page-a-day calendar to satisfy my funny bone.


Both photos snapped using my iPhone.


The page has been pulling at my sleeves,
with letters, words, sentences, but also with lines,
circles, and doodles. It’s a familiar feeling of wanting to draw something
to sketch my dreams and the images that form
from below the surface, yet as my cycle goes,
I have moments of glee and moments of frustration, disappointment.
It’s good for me, though; good to be challenged in a new way;
and when I surrender to the process, I feel something–

I see something speaking to me in a way that makes me want to know more.


Ink and watercolors


It was an ordinary Monday. I was on my way to work, grooving to the radio, stopped at a main intersection; Embassy suites on one corner, gas station and car dealerships on the other three corners, fast food in sight, along with other stores and intersections, then as my eyes are set in front of me, a large deer, maybe even a buck, galloped through, trying to find his way back to the hills, which are a ways out. He took quite a departure. My gazed followed him until my view was cut off. When the light turned green, I looked to the right; there was no sign of the deer. He must have kept galloping, hoping to find his way. It was a beautiful sight. I only hope he found safety.

Vincent Van Gogh is my favorite artist. I loved his work from the first moment that I saw it and I don’t remember exactly when that was, but it was a long time ago. Besides his use of color, texture, and movement, there’s something special about his paintings that is indescribable–

And so because Van Gogh has been on my mind. I pulled a couple of books with his artwork from a box in the garage and made a place for them on a shelf. Over the weekend I yearned to continue reading Dear Theo: The Autobiography of Vincent Van Gogh. But the book that I have is small, the print is small and it’s uncomfortable to read. I set out to find it for my Kindle, but no they did not have it. Instead I found The Letters of Vincent Van Gogh, which I sampled, then downloaded for the bargain price of $2.99.

Art has been on my mind. I even thought of taking another drawing course and actually trying to finish it this time. It’s patience I need. The irony is I have a lot of patience, just not with certain things. I know that I can teach myself to draw better. It just takes time. It takes practice. It takes self-motivation. I’ve always thought of myself as self-motivated–and I am to a degree, but then I fizzle away. Right now, I’m looking at a glass of pink and white carnations that I salvaged for another week from the large stems that had gone bad. They remind me of an ice cream sunday. They just need a red carnation on top. I can visualize myself making a sketch of these lovely flowers. Maybe later. I even took a painting class didn’t finish that either. At the community college level, the classes are long or they seem long. Two night per week for five months. I’ve attempted the drawing class twice. The truth is I got bored with it. I made it past the egg study and then I stopped. I don’t remember if I’ve ever made it past that damn egg! Over the years, I’ve continued to doodle here and there.

I realize that time is escaping me and that’s a good thing because I’m journaling my thoughts, I’m enjoying myself, yet I know that I have to cut myself off, so that I can get the day started and be on time to work.

But I’m not done quite yet.

Last week I took a walk around the reservoir and it there is always something new to notice or become aware of…and the beauty of this is that life is like this. Every day we wake up, it seems the same, our routines, our rituals, yet there is always something new that we can find to appreciate in each day, in each drive to work, in each walk around the reservoir. This last time I walked around the reservoir, I heard a flute in a Japanese style. My senses were delighted and I had an image of a flute with flowers and musical notes coming out of the holes.

The flute immediately transported me somewhere and to have nature as my backdrop–I was in heaven. There was a bench as I came around the corner and I don’t’ usually stop, but I wanted to listen to the flute some more and I still didn’t see who was playing it. No one was around. As soon as I sat down, the music stopped. I took out my notebook and began writing and then I drew a rough sketch of this flowering flute.

The image here is a very rough sketch I did using the Doodle Buddy App. It reminds me of a drawing I might have done in Kindergarten.