Some Of The Parts-Poem

I loved that Margaret wrote a poem about her heart parts.  I wrote a poem for myself years ago about all my feelings.  I'm re-posting the cardboard piece that goes with it.  The interesting thing about the poem was that I wrote it about my feelings and then I saw that it applies to all beings, each human, each animal, insect, plant, rock.  Each one is a resource, a jewel, worth knowing, understanding.  All beings together create some kind of unified whole.

These are the parts of me.
Some are easy to look at, some are hard to see.

Some I hate, some I accept wholeheartedly.

Some are blocked, some I play with freely.

Not good or bad, just unique patterns of energy.

Each one a resource, expanding my creativity.

Each one a jewel, worth knowing intimately.

As I integrate every single one, I create a whole unified me.

Alone a gem, together a treasury.

These are the parts of me.

Some Of The Moments

Some of the moments that make up the whole of my life...

Red Tulip

A poem for the tulip I observe...I notice your color, your scent, your stillness, your movement.  I notice your curves, your lines, your space, the thoughts on my mind.  I notice your shadows, your light, what's open, what's tight.  I notice your beauty, my breath, your life, your death.  I notice the whole of you and each little part, I notice our connection and how you touch my heart.

Parts Of The Morning

Sitting outside on this glorious day, listening to the birds, having breakfast, loving the pansies,  freshly mowed lawn and colors of my world.  And inspired by Andrea's grid of tulips from Saturday's drawing class.

Some Of The Parts

This weeks prompt: whole/part.  I love playing with/exploring this idea of the(emotional) parts of myself.  I have learned that we all share the same parts, expressing them, and using them, differently in the course of our lives.  My 'job' as a human being and as an artist is to (ideally) integrate all parts of myself so that each becomes a resource, not a problem.  I mean that for shame, for anger, for fear, laziness, all of them.  They each have an energy, a vital lifeforce that I can 'channel' in ways that serve me and those around me. Honoring each part of me, accepting each part of me is a practice, a challenge, a worthwhile way to spend my life.

This piece, called 'Some Of The Parts' I made many years ago.  Visually I love seeing them all together.  Then I got a kick out of adding string and photographing them on people.

Under My Feet

Interesting that these drawings repeat under a different prompt...textures.  Under my feet, a cloud feels different than eggshells or concrete or ice or rock or sand or water or grass or a net.

Orange Toenails

This has nothing to do with texture or text.  I haven't drawn my feet in a while.  Today I painted my toes orange.  It's spring, I needed some color.

Texture Of Words

The prompt this week is texture and/or text.  Hmmm.  I got a little 'uh oh' when I first saw the prompt.   Panic maybe is more like it.  Texture or text? Texture and text? Just text? Ok text. No. What's texture mean?  And I started to write...rough, smooth, velvety...the texture of crackers, of porcelain, of paper towels.  the texture of wax, of glass, of steel.  the texture of oil paint, olive oil, paintbrush bristles.  the texture of a dried leaf, a new bud, the petal of a tulip just opened.  the petal  of a tulip curled and dead.  the thorn on a rosebush.  the texture of a cat's fur, a cat's tongue, the pads on a cat's paw, the claw.  the texture of wool, of cashmere, of cotton.  the texture of polyester.  the texture of gray hair, of a baby's hair.  the texture of white birch bark, of pinecones, of ashes, of mashed potatoes, of wonderbread.  the texture of watercolor paper, corrugated cardboard, scotch tape.  the texture of a wooden bowl, a plastic spoon, a silicone rubber oven mit.  the texture of a blueberry, a strawberry, an apple, a coconut.  the texture of lip gloss, handcream, liquid soap.  quinoa, granola, cheesecake, yogurt, ice cream, quiche lorraine.  endlessly fun for me...now I'm looking/feeling everything in terms of texture(how it feels on my skin or tongue)snow, sand, ice.  feathers, beaks, eggshells.

The Bath Without The Story

Dropping the story line means letting go of all those thoughts and just feeling the experience.

Spoken Lines

They each had their own lines to speak.

Drop The Story Line

Writing Lines

Writing a first line.

Writing a last line.

Bottom Line

Receiving Lines

This weeks prompt 'lines'.  I'm having fun just drawing lines, and the multiple meanings.  

Boom Boom Tweet Tweet

This post is inspired by my series RED, NOT RED which focuses on what is, and what isn't.  This image seemed to capture what's big and what's small.  The original text was 'loud, not loud'.  I love that changing focus (the prompt) makes the meaning different. 

Looking Big And Small

I often draw small and then paint big.  

This is the 81/2x11 drawing

and me holding the small cartoon in front of the big cartoon

Standing

Changing the shape of things my experience changes.  When I change what I am relating to/with, I feel differently.  These drawings are part of my 'Standing' series.  Standing on a peak feels different than standing in a hole or on a ladder or on a ball.  Just like standing with a friend feels different than standing with a stranger.  Or standing in Gt. Barrington feels different than standing in Manhattan.

Walking

I made this series of 'walking' many years ago.  I have always loved and found mysterious that drawing some 'shape', (like a 'wire' or 'trees' or 'clouds') , I manage to find its opposite meaning in its opposite shape.