internal selves

The artist in me creates. That's what she's good at. Give her a stage and tell her to make it look real, and she will. Give her a bunch of paints, and she'll go to painting something. Crayons, chalk on the sidewalk, markers, any form of color expression.

But the creative self has limited concepts about business, she just knows it would be nice to sell her stuff someday. So she needs the logical me to kick in.

The logical self who says "You have to sign your work."
"You have to build a portfolio."
"You really should submit to more shows."
"You need to keep track of your receipts for your supplies, you can use that on your taxes."

So creative self sits there, listens to logical self, and then turns around and skips away. Sometimes, when she's feeling particularly feisty, she pushes logical self out the window, then goes about painting things.

Logical self feels put out that creative self isn't listening, that she's being impudent and selfish, and that logical self has to set the rules and be the one in charge.

Creative self doesn't really care, she didn't appoint logical self to be the one who decides, but she's not gonna fight it, because she doesn't want to be in charge either. She wants to paint, and draw, and write, and make the world a pretty place.

Thus logical self and creative self have "differences of opinion", and decide to leave each other alone for awhile. Neither writes or calls. Creative self doesn't, because she's thrown herself into her work, and while she respects logical self and her thoughts and ideas, she won't bow down to them.. Logical self doesn't call because she thinks she's right, and wants creative self to admit it first, so she'd rather let her stew for awhile and learn her lesson.

Eventually though, creative self admits she wants logical self around for balance, and logical self admits her world pretty much sucks without color and art and creative self around to liven the place up.

Originally published Nov 2005

So? I'm snarky.

All the political talk has me agitated just as much as religion talk usually does. But I'm good with what I think & believe. I know where I stand and why. I have my reasons, you have yours.

Allright then.

So this whole 'socialist' movement that Palin keeps pushing about Obama's platform - well... here's what I have to say about that:



I mean, I talk on the phone, a lot, and I text, a lot, and I twitter, some, and I blog, some, and I facebook and myspace a bit... so I'm pretty social, right? I mean, aren't we all?

*Pimpin' over at cafepress - get it on a sticker or a t-shirt. make a tongue in cheek comment of your own.

reminders

trying to figure out the words but tonight I'm not finding them the way I want to. so instead I'm giving you pictures of things I find pretty. or inspiring. or fascinating.



it's been crazy stressful. I'm looking for bright spots and highlights and the good stuff. somewhere. anywhere.



thankfully I've been stumbling across a few things that make me smile. I pick up a project in progress to look it over or flip through a magazine to see something shiny & nice. or the bonus is finding a friend blogging again and seeing his post with something that reminds me I was there for friends before, that things can be ok, and that I am not alone.



working on some wings tomorrow... maybe I can fly too.



(thank you James)

I've changed my fingerprints by making art*

So that canvas I stretched myself, that five foot by three foot one, the one where I didn't quite measure the corner cuts right and it looked a little, well, 'off'?

I did something with it today.



In a couple of hours I threw the paint down and sang along to the music in my ipod. I started out with a paintbrush, but after about, oh, say two minutes, the paintbrush was shoved into my ponytail and forgotten until about an hour ago.

Finger painting is what I went with. Dipped my fingers in the light pink and the wine red and the cream white and the magenta and the ocean blue and the peach and the apple red. Dipped and scooped paint and smeared across the canvas. Blending colors and smooshing edges.

I was in the zone. Grooving. I was making colors move and I love it. I love that zone. Totally in the groove. *happy sigh* That is a feeling I want to hug and squeeze and love and adore forever.

As for the painting... anyone have a 5x3ish space on their wall they want to fill with a giant heart? Let me know.

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*Umm, since I was fingerpainting approximately 15 square feet of canvas with my bare fingers, I, umm, abraded several layers of skin off my first two fingers by rubbing them across the canvas. Crazy. Thankfully I already love Burt's Bees Res-Q Ointment, so I've smeared the green stuff on and am learning to type with my pinky!