.......craft mojo, check.
Do household chores, bleh and, check.
Post a new digital freebie to my blog......che.....wait a minute. THAT'S IT!
It's been, well, a while...... Pardon this interuption but,
There is a blog post bopping around in my brain and it has nothing to do with what I was in the middle of typing. It was there when I was downloading a few new songs for my MP3 player. It was humming in the back of my mind while I cleaned my house. Even now as I sit here typing a blog post, it lingers there in the murky darkness, edging it's way, ever so slowly and ghostlike towards my fingers. Join me if you will on a journey into my subconscience as it makes itself known, like it or not.
I'll close my eyes, get a feel, release the snakelike grip on my mind and see what pours out onto my endless scroll of paper:
Art is subjective. What one person likes about a painting another could see as pure crap. They are but opinions, merely the thoughts of someone else on something that can and probably is very personal to the artist. Creating art is a brave thing. Not something that everyone can do. Not something I feel I can do, most of the time. I take out a blank piece of paper and grab my favorite pencil. When I'm lucky the pencil flies across the page swiftly with bold strokes, sure about themselves as they the paper gets filled with an image in my mind. Other times, more often than not I sit there pencil poised, waiting, waitng.....waiting for inspiration to strike. It's painful the waiting. Just do it! Draw anything. But my mind is as blank as the page in front of me. So in the vain attempt at putting anything down on paper I write my name. Dawn. In cursive, always in cursive. And then a funny thing happens. The A starts to smile at me. She becomes a girl in my mind. So she needs hair. Ponytails. She is a young letter today. The D is her Dad, no her mom. They have the same curly hair. Brown today. And she smiles down at her dautghter A and beams with pride for naming her so. The W provides an ocean on which a boat wants to couragously set sail. The end of my name ends with a slide. Not a big and scary one, but small, small and safe. Maybe "A" will ride down it in her backyard one day. Because she can. She can, if I want to draw it that way. Art is subjective and it can be anything I want it to be. Practice makes it better. Keep it fun, and when all else fails, give it a life of it's own.
My fingers pause on the keyboard. I think it's over. For now. So I will open my eyes, read what came out and decide whether or not to post this post after all.
My 1st instinct says close the browser, and yet........