i love days like these

“God is really another artist. He invented the giraffe, the elephant and the cat. He has no real style. He just goes on trying other things.” — Pablo Picasso


Creativity is inventing, experimenting, growing, taking risks, breaking rules, making mistakes, and having fun.” — Mary Lou Cook


“The key question isn’t “What fosters creativity?” But it is why in God’s name isn’t everyone creative? Where was the human potential lost? How was it crippled? I think therefore a good question might be not why do people create? But why do people not create or innovate? We have got to abandon that sense of amazement in the face of creativity, as if it were a miracle if anybody created anything.” — Abraham Maslow


“The most potent muse of all is our own inner child.” — Stephen Nachmanovitch

Guppy being crafty

Guppy moving on to greater things,
ike re-decorating,... the easy way

Guppy's b-day gift from mommy,
handmade with love

just another view

birthday gifts

Ok yes, I am probably crazy, but a part of this year's growing process is to make some birthday gifts. Not all. Just some. At least 24 (which is 2 a month, which isn't so bad, depending on the actual gift to be made).

Anyway, January's gifts have been made:

Exhibit 1

Mosaic Potholders x2

They came out rather well, although the photographs don't do them justice. I tried to fit in with the recipients home decor, but also keeping it rather neutral for use should things change. The tiling took longer than I expected, but it wasn't the hardest thing I have ever made. Since the painting on the bottom was in black, it went very quickly and did not require as many layers of paint or varnish. 

Exhibit 2

Mosaic Box

This little box was only mosaiced on the lid and that did not take too long. The painting took a bit longer than I thought it would, as a few layers were required and then I still had to varnish it as well. Again a few layers. But it ended up great and the recipient loved it. I had this nasty suspicion that her favourite colour is blue, and I was planning a box accordingly, but as you can see, the box decided differently and I just went with the flow. Turned out divinely, as things tend to. 

These were all finished off by the 21st and I loved handing over something that took MY time, My creativity and MY love to produce, and not just my money.

Next up: I will be making 2 little boxes, one for Erin and one for my half sister (the other one also gets one, but her birthday is in July, but I might just make them altogether in one go). 

goals; desires

The question looms yet silence reigns.
What should the answer be?
Could you be that selfish, or should you share?
But you need to know your heart's desire...

Maybe it is simple:
Time
Space

Time to call your own;
Time to finish what you started;
Time to be all that you could.

Space to call your own;
Space to finish what you started;
Space to grow as you would.

Or it can be more complex:
A million dollars
To be the best

Now open up your mouth to speak
but be sure about the answer;
Whether cliche or obscure
make sure it gives you all you wanted.

ideal

Beauty cannot be touched;
Porcelain's not made for kids.
Place it perfectly on its pedestal
where it can't be reached.

Kneeling deep and feeling blistered
both reflections fail to see
that when things turn out to be ideal
you can't manifest the dream.

peace

the heat breaks
the sky falls
peace surrenders
letting joy find a way
along the weather beaten path

brea...  the

the clouds visit
the earth sings
relief remembers
the words to the song
that hearts sing all along

so... hum

coddled insanity

Stepping into freedom,
and worn out recognition,
like the path well trodden
and the voice that's always heard,
like the deep crevices of a winter duvet
and the sweet sweet warmth
of the perfect cup of tea.

Here there is denial
and things magically pressed down.
Here there is perfection
and a world that's all my own.
Here has a little closet
in which I store my heart,
a place where hurt can't touch it
while it waits for perfect love. 

mother

Strong as mountains,
fragile as the flakes of snow.
Her way is the ebb and flow.
Her laughter carries on the sunrise,
her heart beats in the forests.
She sighs,
she sheds a silent tear
and the city turns to shreds.
Guiding.
Hoping.
Gently swaying.
Blinking as an eon passes by
and the offspring finally finds
a path to home.