Tag: bloggingfundamentals

I was Supposed to be Blogging About My Artwork

The Creative Process, Uncategorized

Two weeks ago I received a message from WordPress…..

“Happy Anniversary with WordPress.com.  You registered with WordPress.com two years ago.  Thanks for flying with us.  Keep up the good blogging.”

This gave me pause on the passage of time and where I’ve come since I originally set up my blog.  Having failed to embrace other social media-Instagram and Facebook with enthusiasm to promote my art, the advice out there said: “you need to blog about your artwork.”  Okay, I thought, let’s give that a go.

Up went my first post, The Artist Demystified” on June 4, 2017, not really about my art but it was a start.  I was stunned to get one “Like”  and then double stunned when I received a “follow.” Wow, somebody read and identified what I wrote.  Then I found the WordPress Community Pool and the Weekly Photo & Writing Challenges (now extinct and sorely missed).  Then I found other bloggers and that I really liked to write and share my writing. Then I found (again) that I really hate self-promotion just for self-promotion’s sake. 

Now I’ve officially let go of the idea that my blog exists to promote my artwork since I really wasn’t doing that anyway.  If someone wanders over to my Etsy shop and purchases something, fabulous, but that’s not why I’m here.  Blogging has become a grounding force in my life

This is pretty much a blog about sharing my thoughts and experiences with others.

May my writing spark some resonance in my readers and bring forth some smiles through this process which I so enjoy.

I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE BLOGGING ABOUT MY ARTWORK

You know, make a splash

With Google Analytics

Get followers

Boost sales on Etsy

 

I was supposed to be blogging about my artwork

But then I discovered blogging as an art form

Blogging just to blog

Sending my words out into the universe

To maybe catch hold on the edge

of some other celestial being

 

I was supposed to be blogging about my artwork

And then I discovered other bloggers

With their words that fed me

And then found a hold

In my celestial body

 

I was supposed to be blogging about my artwork

And then I discovered that I just liked to make art

…… not so much the selling 

So I think I will continue to make

And I will continue to write

For no other reason than it feeds my soul

How to Begin Your Day

Poetry, The Creative Process, Uncategorized

IMG_1296I started this practice some months back.  It just sort of happened with no premeditation. When I was in some random airport waiting for a connection, I spied some lovely little leather journals in a gift shop and thought “What a perfect place to write poetry!”  The journal was purchased and is now over half full of poems and drafts of poems.  In the morning I am either working on a poem, reading poetry or doing a combination of both, in bed, a cup of tea in hand with two furry dogs beside me for company.  It’s been a delightful way to start my day, so much nicer than reading the news.

Begin the Day With a Poem

let the lines of beauty

spin a warm cocoon about you

Revel in its warmth

and the protection it offers

from the harshness of this world

Drink in the loveliness

of pure imagery

and let the words

light candles in the darkness

marking a clear path before you

into the garden of hope.

IMG_1300

 

On The Way

Poetry, Uncategorized

It was the late 1950s and America was on the road.  My family was one of them.  Some of my fondest memories were from these times and our many camping trips to Yosemite National Park & beyond. This one’s for you, Dad…..

“Are we almost there yet?”1309f33c20927d222859100d29bb9db5

I whined to my parents as we motored down seemingly endless highways

punctuated with Burma-Shave signs,jack44

Jumbo Orange stands and other odd roadside attractions.

We traveled to the pace of a ’56 Chevy Station wagon

two-toned Red & White

unbuckled with my older brother in the way back
56 chevy

windows rolled down

stifling heat & wind flapping about our ears

while we sang songs in harmony

& read piles of comic books

rejoicing in those stops

with dripping ice cream cones

32bjackalope2briding2bjack2bpc2b5& Jackalope postcards

on the way to that perfect camp spot under shady pine trees.

We slept under the stars on army cots

tucked in thick sleeping bags lined with red flannel plaid

waking to the “shhhhhh” sound of the Coleman stove.

We waded in creeks turning over rocks exposing odd bugs yosemite-post-card

& released crude sailboats made of wood scraps &  white rag sails

into the current past our tin can waterwheels.

It was a wild wonderland

for a young girl with legs as spindly as a colt’s.

Now looking back to those years from the arc of adulthood

“Are we almost there yet?”

We were there

We were there all the time.

yosempc052

 

 

 

The Poetry of Loss

Poetry, Uncategorized

There is no roadmap through grief.  I find peace through writing after the recent passing of my father.  Here are two poems…

mandala-1757304_1280

ON THE DAY MY FATHER DIED

I heard the earth sigh

Above the splash of tears

His spirit slipped away quietly

It’s shell worn from years of living

It was lifted by the cadence of prayer

Then finally free

He ascended

Into the arms of angels

And as we mourned him by his bedside

The heavens welcomed his spirit

Unencumbered by flesh

Finding peace among the stars

Forever in our hearts.

mandala-1757304_1280

THE GRIEF WASHED OVER ME

Like a strong wave of the sea

My face hit bottom

My cheek scraping the coarse sand

I stood up and was knocked down

Over and over again

Until I released to the ocean’s power

And washed up spent upon the shore.

wave-1662458_1920

 

Bidding Farewell to My Father

Uncategorized

Please do not apologize to me for your physical state as you leave this world.  Yours is not an enviable path, your body rigid from Parkinson’s, your lungs compromised from the pneumonia that finally will be the demise of your 91 year life.

Yes, I am bearing witness to your diminished body, reliant on the hands of others. But my memories of you will be fonder ones.  You were a man of great stature and heart, a man who took the time to read me my favorite Dr. Suess books over and over and over again when I was a little girl. Perhaps that’s where I got my quirky imagination?  You were the one who tucked me in, put me on the handle bars of rented bicycles in Yosemite. All those family camping trips? Those  led to my love of nature & the outdoors & for that I am so grateful .  You helped move me from college and helped me pack for my new life in Alaska.  I looked forward to those care packages from you. When I needed comfort in a far off place, yours was the voice I could count on.  Dad wordpress photo

Thank you for your generous spirit that manifested itself in many ways . Thank you for not criticising my numerous stupid decisions in life, preferring to be my cheerleader. Thank you for being a good grandpa to my son.

I am grateful that you found your true love, that you lived life large and got to travel to exotic places.  You are leaving this life with more friends that I can count.  There’s a bright mark you left on the world and we will feel a void when you depart. Leave it to you that in the end you can still crack a good joke.

I am grateful for morphine and hospice care.

It is me that wants to apologize to you.  I am sorry that you have to end your long life in such an uncomfotable manner.  But lets just skip all those apologies.  May you leave this life knowing that you were loved and admired by many, including myself. Congratulations on a life well lived.

Thank you for being my father.

IN HONOR OF BRUCE PASS

December 7, 1925 – May 5, 2017

Van Gogh & the Question of Audience

The Creative Process, Uncategorized

watercolour-2168706_1920

” Does what goes on inside show on the outside? Someone has a great fire in his soul and nobody ever comes to warm themselves at it, and passers-by see nothing but a little smoke at the top of the chimney and then go on their way. So now what are we to do, keep this fire alive inside, have salt in ourselves, wait patiently, but with how much impatience, await the hour, I say, when whoever wants to, will come and sit down there, will stay there, for all I know? “

Vincent Van Gogh, letter to his brother Theo, June 24, 1880

I read this quote by Van Gogh last week on Austin Kleon’s blog last week which inspired the question of the value of audience.

Before I started to blog this year, I wrote in comfortable anonymity in a small leather bound journal for an audience of one- me.  Then I started my blog as a “must do” to help promote my visual art online.  This intention swiftly changed after I published my first blog post “You Just Start.”  To my amazement, I heard a little chime shortly after I hit the post button letting me know that one blogger had “liked” my post.  I was floored.  Really I had expected nothing, but the fact that my writing connected with someone emboldened post-impressionist-1424183_1920me to share more of my personal writing.

Several posts later I received my first follower which amazed me even more.  Then I began to join in the community by liking, commenting, & following others blogs.  As I have been building my audience, I have been an audience to others, adding such a rich dimension to my creative life.  Having an audience has been an affirmation that my creative expression has value to not only myself but to others.

Still, no matter what, I need to create with satisfying the audience of my own soul as my first priority.  When I create with the intention just to please others, my work seems hollow. That’s when I feel the most despair if no one “comes to my table.”  I will continue to write with or without an audience.  Luckily I don’t need to make money post-impressionist-1428128_1920from my writing and I will savor any audience that comes my way. The important thing is I be brave and share my work.

Van Gogh stayed true to his artistic vision even though he was penniless.  During his lifetime he never sold one painting.  He could have painted in the style of the day to generate income. What courage that took and we are so much the beneficiaries of that courage years after his death.  If only knew what a genius he was.  If only he could have experienced his audience.

starry-sky-1948523_1920

 

 

Straight Lines

Poetry, Uncategorized

This little ditty was inspired by another blogger who had taken the time to read my post on Escaping Perfectionism and liked it.  So I  returned the visit (he has a very nice blog by the way).  In his ABOUT page he said he could not draw a straight line.  This got me to thinking about this commonly said phrase implying one has no artistic talent.  Exactly, what is so great about drawing a straight line? What a boring thing to aspire to.  This one is for you Cristian!

STRAIGHT LINES

You say you can’t draw a line that’s straight

MARVELOUS!

That’s what rulers are for

 Do zig and  zag and loop de loop them

And think of straight no more.

squiggle