Elephant

I did this elephant some time ago for an Art Card Swap over at Swap Bot.  I am rather fond of it, mainly because it reminds me of one of my favorite folk tales. 

You all know the story, about ten blind men who wanted to know what an elephant is like.  Each man encountered a different part of the elephant, so one thought an elephant was like a rope (the tail) one thought the elephant was like a huge fan (the ear), one thought it was a snake (the trunk) and so on.  Each man thought that he and he alone really understood the nature of the elephant, when in reality each of them only had a small bit of the picture, but all the others had a small bit too.

I will leave it to you to decide what the elephant is a metaphore for.  Life.  God.  Art.  Zentangles.  Or whatever else might occur to you.

Anyway, hope you are all making it a good day.

-byrd

Artoo Update

It seems that Artoo is home and on the mend.  Thanks to all of you out there who sent him good vibes.

I am so glad for him and his family.  Now I can relax and do the challange for the week.

Color Thoughts

Lately, I have been hungry for color.  Not sure why or what triggered it (Nothing to do with http://enthusiasticartist.blogspot.com/ Feb 3 post.   Nope, nope, not a thing.), but this craving for color is not unusual for me.

I remember when I bought my first house, I was so hungry for color that I purchased the brightest dark blue I could find and painted the entire bedroom, including the ceiling, in the mesmerizing color.  Of course, it was not the best idea I have had.  The room was overly oppressive and dark.  I learned the lesson that sometimes color needs to be balanced in order to really appreciate it. 

I can remember that the artist Peter Max who was famous for his bright vibrant colors (from the 60s, Yellow Submarine?), said he was frequently asked ‘what was his favorite color?’, and he would always reply “I have no favorite color.  But I have Ten Thousand favorite color combinations.”

That’s me.

I love all sorts of colors.  I love the way they interact with one another.  Color dances for me.  It speaks to my spirit and calls me to gratitude.  My heart rejoices when I see a symphony of color  and I want to save it in my very being.  I usually prefer the bright clean colors, or the soft, dreamy pastels.  But sometimes even the muted colors will bring forth a song.

I do love the stark Black & White of Zentangles.  The sheer cleanness, the unambiguity of them (although I do love ambiguity, too) have a rhythm and melody all their own.

But lately I have been doing lots and lots of Zendalas.  But when I finish one, I almost always want to see it in color.  So I have been copying my Zendalas & coloring the copy.  The results, I like.

So I thought I might share with you a few examples of my Zendalas, before and after the color was added.

For your viewing pleasure:

Here is a nice little Black & White Zendala (before)

Now check out what happens when color is added:

I really like what happens.  For me, color adds depth and brings things to life.  Now, the Black and White can be stunning, but so can the color versions.  Here is another example:

  How about this set?

Or this set?

BTW, I should mention here that I was politely asked to leave Art School, because I could not finish the last two required classes.  They were about color theory, and I am partially color-blind, you see.

Moral?  Never give up your Art.

 

Thoughts for Artoo

Lately, I have been craving color, so the picture above is in response to that craving.  I will be writing an entire post on that later.

But for now,  Laura, from 'I am the Diva', has a beautiful son (Artoo) who was born prematurely.  Sadly, he has had health problems.  As I type this he is in intensive care because he is having trouble breathing. 

It is so difficult with the very little ones.  They are so helpless and we can not tell them in words that they are loved and cared for.  We cannot give them the comfort of knowing that we are doing everything in our power to help them.  We can only touch, hold, and make soothing sounds.  And we can pray, or send healing thoughts to them, or just send them loving energy.  And to be honest, I don't know how much those things help, but I do them anyway.

So for those of you who pray, I invite you to pray for Artoo.

For those of you who meditate, I invite you to send him your healing energy.

And for those of you who contemplate, I invite you to send him healing thoughts.

Amen
Blessed Be
So Be It
Namaste

Finding Something to Say

 

I was asked to preach about Spirituality, so I sat down to type up a sermon --- but nothing was coming.  All the ideas for a sermon that I had when I volunteered suddenly ran away and I was left with nothing spiritual to say.

 I was stumped. 

After all, who am I to be telling anyone else about Spirituality?   But it had to be done.

 So I was a bit Grumpy. 

I have days like that. Weeks, even. 

I think we all do.

Times when nothing seems to be going together the way we would like them to.

And I don't always handle it gracefully. 

My Mother used to tell me that the best thing to do under those circumstances is to change the subject. 

Changing the subject of your life can be tricky.  But I had to give it a shot.  Instead of sitting and wollowing in my ineptitudes, I looked out the window at the dark gray sky.

 I remembered the other day I was feeling very depressed on my way to work. That was a gray day, too. As I walked, I was working up a really good feeling-sorry-for-myself.

I was listing the many reasons I had for thinking I was being put-upon.

Imagine! Having to work for a living! Why couldn't I just be rich?

Nobody understood me anyway. Poor Me!

My mood was a dark as the sky.

Then I remembered that I liked Gray days, better than Sunny ones.

 It took all the wind out of my sails and I had to laugh at me.  Sometimes, you just can't take yourself too seriously, it takes far too much effort. 

The cats at my feet were becoming militant about food and protested loudly that they were being tortured beyond all reason, so I got up and fed them.   

Then Tammer, my twelve-year-old cat, crawled into my lap. She was warm and furry and purring. She settled down into a comfortable huddle and proceeded to gently clean the reminents of dinner from her beautiful face. Then she looked up adoringly and blinked at me before she purred herself to sleep.

 How can anyone, even a grump like me, stay irritated with that going on? 

So I looked out the window again and saw how beautiful the bare tree branches were against the dark gray sky.

 Who was I to talk of anything Spiritual? Who are any of us? 

I'll tell you who we are.

We are people who have lived and loved and learned.

We are people who don't know all the answers, but might have a clue as to a few of the questions.

 We have made mistakes, and sometimes we have learned from them, sometimes not.

 If we share our hopes, strengths and experiences, we just might find a friend along the way, and maybe even an answer or two. 

I don't believe that insight is given only to a few. I believe that all have access.

 So it's not my job, as sermon-giver, friend, or artist, to have all the answers.

 It's my job to share, my weaknesses as well as my strengths.

 I have heard it said that each of us has a light within us, a light that shines forth who we are, a light that can show the way to another.

I believe that.

I believe that we each have part of it, a piece of the puzzle, so to speak. And that together, we can see clearly what a beautiful world we can make. 

As I type these words, I am aware that not all the world is peaceful, that war is reality for a lot of good people.  I pray for all on both sides, for we are all the children of the universe. As children of the universe, or of God (however you want to say it), we are siblings to one another. We are, quite litterally, all brothers and sisters to one another. We dim our lights when we give in to hate. 

Thinking on these things, my own troubles seemed small. I was humbled by my own good fortune.

The cat in my lap stretched and a burst of purr came from her as she sank back into sleep.  As I looked at her, I thought, "Maybe that is my calling in life, to be a cat lap.   Maybe providing for her is my true purpose." 

I do not pretend to know the mind (or the priorities) of God.

 When I preach, I always end every service with the same blessing which I would like to share with you: 

Let your light so shine that all may see, and rejoice that you are. 

So Be It.

The Searcher

Sometimes I feel as if I am looking for something, but I don't know what it is.  I know it's important, but I have forgotten what it looks like.  So, I just keep searching.

A lot of us are like that.  We search all our lives, looking for. . . for. . . for something.  There is an unfullfilledness, and empty space within.  And we know, or at least we think we know, that the void can be healed.

It is not always thus.  Sometimes we are fine,  We are whole, complete.  All is well.  But then the restlessness begins, and once again, we are in a familiar place, looking for something we know not what.  We almost remember it.  At the edge of our mind is an image that disappears when we look at it.

Maybe what we are looking for is not really what is important.  Maybe we are looking in the wrong places.  Maybe we have a preconceived idea of what it is, but the reality is quite different.  And maybe, just maybe, what is really important is the search.

Welcome Feb.

Jan, 2011  is over.  Feb. has begun.  May we greet it with joy and peace.