Tag: art

Thinking about creativity

Does anyone remember as a kid collecting money at Halloween to give to UNICEF? Do kids still do that: find ways to raise money and awareness of the plight of children all over the world?

The United Nations Children Fund began in 1946 as a way to help children impacted by World War II, and over the decades, it’s grown into an organization that provides humanitarian relief that helps children globally, focusing on child survival and development; basic education and gender equality (including girls’ education); child protection from violence, exploitation, and abuse; HIV/AIDS and children; and policy advocacy and partnerships for children’s rights.

Here’s how my journey to thinking about UNICEF began.

thanks for reading on

Since it’s Mark’s birthday

Dear Mark,

You asked about my favorite Godiva sculpture or paintings. Now as you (with that memory of yours) undoubtedly recall, I’ve never been all that excited about sculpture or statues. I appreciate the artistry, but I’m generally not moved by them. Oh, occasionally I’ll be captivated by something small, like this:

She could be a version of Godiva who knows that we don’t have to take our clothes off (to have a good time).

Of course, being a Southern girl, I do appreciate having statues to look at when I picnic in cemeteries and talk to the dead. A good time–as long as the dead don’t talk back.

But since you asked so sweetly, and it is, after all, your birthday, we’ll begin our Godiva tour with the statue in Coventry, England, that–in BeckyWorld–was duplicated and sent to Coventry, Texas. If you click on her and go up to the gallery, there are more photos (with notes) that can be embiggened if your eyes are now too old to see them for greater detail.

Happy birthday to one of my favorite writers–a person who always makes me think and smile. Those are lovely qualities to find in a friend, and only two of many wonderful things about you. I hope you have a fantastic day, in or out of your birthday suit. (However, I don’t recommend nude horseback rides. Chafing, you know.)


click here

*I stole “embiggen” from The Simpsons just as I stole these pictures from the Internet. Don’t tell.

Button Sunday…in your dreams

I’ve talked about dreams before on my LiveJournal. Each person has a fantastic psychological and psychic dream landscape, rich with symbols, memories, fears, hopes, people–imagined and real–and messages from their brains. But I believe this landscape is one no one else can ever really share with quite as much enthusiasm or wonder as the dreamer.

One of the more miserable experiences of my work life was knowing someone who came to me every day to tell me her dreams and ask me what they meant. Although she was a nice person, I dreaded seeing her. I did anything to avoid being alone with her. She ruined what had been a pleasant acquaintance and pretty much ended any interest I had in talking to people about dream symbolism and meaning. Because of the way she turned every conversation into a discussion of her dreams, although I occasionally share a few details of my dreams with people (and sometimes silly details of a dream on LiveJournal), I never do it without the inner knowledge that listeners or readers are most likely thinking, Why should I care? or What does this have to do with me? or Will she EVER shut up? or the farmer in the dell…the farmer in the dell…

I’m willing to occasionally hear about someone else’s dream, as long as I’m not expected to analyze it. In fact, I’ve often found that when I try to filter someone else’s dreams through my perceptions, I’m met with resentment and hostility. Because no one can really understand another person’s dreams. Your dreams are genuinely all about you, and other people don’t need to go trampling over them in heavy shoes of logic and explication.

Some people say they don’t dream. They do, but they haven’t trained their minds to remember their dreams. Maybe they have other ways of understanding their interior selves. I need my dreams. They often give me answers to questions that trouble my soul, or give me hope, and even sometimes write in my mind words and scenes that become part of my novels. I believe many creative people draw on their dreamscapes for their work.

I started thinking about all this because of an article I read about dreams and grief. I’m including the full text behind a cut in case you’re interested, along with a beautiful painting I found by artist Nancy Tuttle May of North Carolina. And finally, just to show you that I don’t take it all too seriously, here’s a bonus button.

Continue reading “Button Sunday…in your dreams”

Something for Mark, while he can still see

Here are a couple of paintings my father did late 60s, early 70s. They’re on wooden panels that came out of some piece of furniture. He was really just playing around, but I liked them and ferreted them away to a hiding place so they’d be mine, ALL MINE! The paintings you noticed from Galveston made me remember them (and get Tom to retrieve them from their newest hiding place). Now Tom wants to hang them on the wall behind my desk, and I agree.

I’m loading them through LJ so you can click on them and make them bigger (or embiggen them, as Joe.My.God. taught me to say thanks to The Simpsons).

you know what to do

Remembering

One time, Jon at Blurbomat blogged about what it meant to him to be a father. (Edit: Jon’s post can be found here.) I can’t remember all the details of what he said, but his main point was that whatever freedom to pursue his artistic self-expression he’d given up, he had no regrets, because his family was the most important and fulfilling part of his life. I wrote him (I have no idea if he ever read my e-mail), because that day I read his blog over and over with tears streaming down my face.
click here for more emotional rambling

Spring on my wall

Gene Black posted a photo of one of his watercolors on his LJ a few weeks ago. I HAD TO HAVE IT. And it was close to my 35th! birthday, so it seemed like a good time to spoil myself. Gene thought the painting was a certain size, and he even marked it for me where he might crop it. I took it in and the people at Michael’s tried all different sizes and colors of mats on it, and nothing made me happy. I finally realized why. I didn’t want to lose ANY of the painting.
see framed painting here