What does a rainbow see? What does it think of the grey world it is meant to brighten? Does it wonder whether it can make a difference? Does every shade of color have a different opinion about the matter?
Yellow is optimistic and simply brightens the world by existing. It isn't fazed by opposition even in the face of Blue's gloomy perspective. Blue?... Blue wonders why more of its shade is needed in a world already tinged with shadows. Green simply wishes it could visit the trees and interact with their leaves, perhaps find a soul-mate among them. Red exclaims that it doesn't matter what the ground looks like and boldly highlights the sky, pressing back the clouds by sheer force of presence.
Purple mediates between Red and Blue since they don't get along very well. It doesn't have much time for anything below unless it's arching over a palace anyway. Purple has its opinions about its place in the world, and soaring across the sky isn't world domination, yet. Orange admires yellow for its sunny disposition, but prefers red's methods. It finds Purple a little pretentious, but has already offered it's services for the inevitable takeover. Blue gloomily states it will stand as adviser since someone needs to have common sense in the plot.
Green wonders if taking over the world will give him a chance to meet the trees. But Yellow just claims it's all up to the sun anyway and plunges after a particularly thick cloud, dragging the rest of the colors behind it. Red protests loudly, since dragging about after Yellow offends its dignity. Purple takes a short pause while Yellow catches its breath and tries to gain another recruit into the world domination plan. But Yellow quickly loses interest and chases after Storm.
Below, a child runs across the field, convinced that if he can only find the base of the rainbow he will have a treasure beyond imagination. And Storm dashes itself against the earth again and again, uncaring of the mayhem it leaves in its wake. What does it care for rainbows and children when it has lost Ocean, its first love?
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Art Thursday - An Artist to Follow
Yuumei, on deviantART has painted three of my most-favored dev-paintings. Every time I look at the works linked below, I am captivated again.
"Canon in D" captures what classical/pop music is to me. I often look at this painting while listening to my favorite Pandora station. The motes of dust floating in the ray of light pouring through an otherwise dim room bring back memories of the music-room where I practiced as a child. Even the colors suit piano music, in their gentle shades and soft contrasts. The pianist is captured, mid-tune. I can almost hear the notes.
Project WE: Canon in D Major by *yuumei on deviantART
Do you feel the captivity and freedom of "What it Takes to Fly"? It reminds me that we need others, and of how that necessity opens us to pain. But every relationship is part of what makes us capable of flying, even the harshest and ugliest of them. If we were alone and knew nothing of others, would we strive to reach higher and overcome limitations? Of course, it is all in the response, but I like to think that the boy painted below will fly over the fence and find that the sky is bluer in contrast to all he has experienced.
What it Takes to Fly by *yuumei on deviantART
"Sunday Afternoon" was painted in tribute to an anime/manga I've never looked at, but the impact is warm. Without all the subtle references to the story it would simply be a group of children enjoying a relaxing day, and that is the part of this picture I appreciate. I've participated in moments like this, and they are worth treasuring.
Sunday Afternoon by *yuumei on deviantART
"Canon in D" captures what classical/pop music is to me. I often look at this painting while listening to my favorite Pandora station. The motes of dust floating in the ray of light pouring through an otherwise dim room bring back memories of the music-room where I practiced as a child. Even the colors suit piano music, in their gentle shades and soft contrasts. The pianist is captured, mid-tune. I can almost hear the notes.
Project WE: Canon in D Major by *yuumei on deviantART
Do you feel the captivity and freedom of "What it Takes to Fly"? It reminds me that we need others, and of how that necessity opens us to pain. But every relationship is part of what makes us capable of flying, even the harshest and ugliest of them. If we were alone and knew nothing of others, would we strive to reach higher and overcome limitations? Of course, it is all in the response, but I like to think that the boy painted below will fly over the fence and find that the sky is bluer in contrast to all he has experienced.
What it Takes to Fly by *yuumei on deviantART
"Sunday Afternoon" was painted in tribute to an anime/manga I've never looked at, but the impact is warm. Without all the subtle references to the story it would simply be a group of children enjoying a relaxing day, and that is the part of this picture I appreciate. I've participated in moments like this, and they are worth treasuring.
Sunday Afternoon by *yuumei on deviantART
Developing the Internet
If I were to draw the internet, it would look like the earth, only turned inside out so everyone could take a telescope and peer across the landscape into the life of anyone on the planet or simply float inward to meet in the center. Without horizons, but full of unusual perspectives, the web is both mysterious and easy to access. I suppose it's the allure of touching so many lives that draws me here.
I enjoy solitude, but depend on social contact to refresh stale perspectives and correct false theories. It's a strange dichotomy of character traits that lends itself to the sort of connections available on the internet.
I've recently been focusing on finding places to display art and poetry, both to learn the quality of my work from impartial viewers and to find art and writing to appreciate in return. As I collect these sites, I'll gradually add them to the recommended site page linked in the right hand column. But I thought I'd make special mention of two I've found that are user-friendly and full of fascinating competitions and amazing artists.
I found RedBubble today. A photographer friend of mine posted a link to her page and I quickly joined. It's easy to see I will often be interacting within their structure. The layout is simple to work with, and their group format makes it easy to submit art to the appropriate places, as well as to view what others have accomplished. Their system for selling art is so simple that I joined and was posting prints within a half-hour.
For some time now, I've been posting at DeviantART. It is a complex and lively place with never a dull day. They, also, make it easy to both post art and view it. I've not yet arranged to sell prints through their system, and so cannot comment on the ease of use. However, the competitions there are excellent for developing new skills and testing abilities. I expect to keep submitting to these contests until I begin winning. At that point, I will start looking for higher goals to pursue.
I enjoy solitude, but depend on social contact to refresh stale perspectives and correct false theories. It's a strange dichotomy of character traits that lends itself to the sort of connections available on the internet.
I've recently been focusing on finding places to display art and poetry, both to learn the quality of my work from impartial viewers and to find art and writing to appreciate in return. As I collect these sites, I'll gradually add them to the recommended site page linked in the right hand column. But I thought I'd make special mention of two I've found that are user-friendly and full of fascinating competitions and amazing artists.
I found RedBubble today. A photographer friend of mine posted a link to her page and I quickly joined. It's easy to see I will often be interacting within their structure. The layout is simple to work with, and their group format makes it easy to submit art to the appropriate places, as well as to view what others have accomplished. Their system for selling art is so simple that I joined and was posting prints within a half-hour.
For some time now, I've been posting at DeviantART. It is a complex and lively place with never a dull day. They, also, make it easy to both post art and view it. I've not yet arranged to sell prints through their system, and so cannot comment on the ease of use. However, the competitions there are excellent for developing new skills and testing abilities. I expect to keep submitting to these contests until I begin winning. At that point, I will start looking for higher goals to pursue.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Counterpoint Life
I entered the poem below into the Down with Clichés Contest. Who knows what will come of it?
Counterpoint Life
We follow different music, you and I.
I wonder,
Will you ever admit the opposing beat?
In quick, martial rhythm you stride,
always with determination,
And send me out before to scan the land
and bring back a report.
Then ...
You chant the fortifications,
I did not see;
defensive weaknesses,
in a war I do not fight.
You call the lay of the land,
a refrain I admire,
and leap traps
which did not hinder my feet.
I was just here,
but where are the warbling robins;
the roses, rabbits, rainbows
I saw?
We march to your tune, general,
this weary scout
always faltering.
But your music pounds on
without me.
You hear what I never could.
Trying to echo your pace
in substitute,
I only trip you.
Where I dance there is no perfection.
When I fall, the music pauses
That, too, becomes part of the beat,
Flowing like breath
accepting the need of the moment.
Some days the tune flutters
like a leaf
before it releases the branch
to waft upon the breeze;
and on others,
cacophony thunders
like a river
rolling rubble down to the sea.
I don't expect you
to follow this orchestra.
I can scarcely trace it myself.
How I wish that you could know
there is another song;
That I do not miss steps
out of desire to hamper your path.
I can tread in your footprints,
if you will only let me follow,
and learn not to send me out
into a music not my own
without a guide.
But most of all,
I wish you would leave me
to treasure my melody;
discover
the mysteries of its moods;
perhaps even learn
grace.
Counterpoint Life
We follow different music, you and I.
I wonder,
Will you ever admit the opposing beat?
In quick, martial rhythm you stride,
always with determination,
And send me out before to scan the land
and bring back a report.
Then ...
You chant the fortifications,
I did not see;
defensive weaknesses,
in a war I do not fight.
You call the lay of the land,
a refrain I admire,
and leap traps
which did not hinder my feet.
I was just here,
but where are the warbling robins;
the roses, rabbits, rainbows
I saw?
We march to your tune, general,
this weary scout
always faltering.
But your music pounds on
without me.
You hear what I never could.
Trying to echo your pace
in substitute,
I only trip you.
Where I dance there is no perfection.
When I fall, the music pauses
That, too, becomes part of the beat,
Flowing like breath
accepting the need of the moment.
Some days the tune flutters
like a leaf
before it releases the branch
to waft upon the breeze;
and on others,
cacophony thunders
like a river
rolling rubble down to the sea.
I don't expect you
to follow this orchestra.
I can scarcely trace it myself.
How I wish that you could know
there is another song;
That I do not miss steps
out of desire to hamper your path.
I can tread in your footprints,
if you will only let me follow,
and learn not to send me out
into a music not my own
without a guide.
But most of all,
I wish you would leave me
to treasure my melody;
discover
the mysteries of its moods;
perhaps even learn
grace.
Monday, September 21, 2009
The Fall of Constantinople
A friend asked me to paint the last battle of Constantine XI. Let's make this clear. I know enough about history to get myself in trouble in a conversation, but not enough to get back out of trouble. Thus, I have spent the weekend researching. I'm out of my league in both painting ability and knowledge of history, but I'm climbing as high as I can, and we'll see what results at the end of it.
First, I found the city, specifically a site that has computer-reconstructed many portions of ancient Byzantium.I could have wandered there for hours, but disciplined myself to only look at the wall views.
I then proceeded to search for 1453 Byzantine armor as well as that of the attacking Ottoman Empire and the re-enforcements from Genoa. It was remarkably hard to pinpoint what people were wearing then. I found a forum where learned people discuss the minutia of the military of that era. They had posted pictures, but then promptly tore the veracity of the art apart, leaving me confused as to whether I ought to follow the designs for Constantine's and Giustiniani's armor or not.
Museums weren't much help either, though I really like this lion-head helmet from the 1500's. Imagine putting that on your head and roaring around with a sword. I'll have to use that idea for some other painting. And here's a nifty sword, which I'll probably use in the painting somewhere.
I'll be putting in a crossbow, too, since I'm going to paint the moment when the tide of battle turned, i.e. when Giustinianni got shot in the chest with a crossbow bolt. Hurrah for drama! If you're not sure you can paint it anyway, why not go for the most complex moment you can think of, aye?
That's what I'm up to. And now it's late.
I'll just finish my tea and post ... hehehe ... and go to bed.
Later edit...
The final product!
"O Lord, Save Thy People" by ~phoenix-karenee on deviantART
First, I found the city, specifically a site that has computer-reconstructed many portions of ancient Byzantium.I could have wandered there for hours, but disciplined myself to only look at the wall views.
I then proceeded to search for 1453 Byzantine armor as well as that of the attacking Ottoman Empire and the re-enforcements from Genoa. It was remarkably hard to pinpoint what people were wearing then. I found a forum where learned people discuss the minutia of the military of that era. They had posted pictures, but then promptly tore the veracity of the art apart, leaving me confused as to whether I ought to follow the designs for Constantine's and Giustiniani's armor or not.
Museums weren't much help either, though I really like this lion-head helmet from the 1500's. Imagine putting that on your head and roaring around with a sword. I'll have to use that idea for some other painting. And here's a nifty sword, which I'll probably use in the painting somewhere.
I'll be putting in a crossbow, too, since I'm going to paint the moment when the tide of battle turned, i.e. when Giustinianni got shot in the chest with a crossbow bolt. Hurrah for drama! If you're not sure you can paint it anyway, why not go for the most complex moment you can think of, aye?
That's what I'm up to. And now it's late.
I'll just finish my tea and post ... hehehe ... and go to bed.
Later edit...
The final product!
"O Lord, Save Thy People" by ~phoenix-karenee on deviantART
Friday, September 18, 2009
Random Fun
I go to Seventh Sanctum for laughs and help breaking through writer's block. There, you will find a variety of random generators for anything from a spaceship model to evil animal minions. Let's see if you can figure out which generators I used for the contents of the story below...
Tubadab Warcurse stomped into Thirty Turtles headquarters and tossed a handful of Jellied Frosted Jawbreakers onto the table. "Which one of you unknowable biters gave these to the top ultrapsychoinformatics master? You all knew he had a sweet tooth and that he's terribly allergic to jelly, and now he's dead! He was just about ready to pinpoint the location of the Economic Syndicate of Shires secret hideout, too!"
The council froze.
"What's this?" Tubadub tapped the brittle arm of the closest politician and an icicle broke from his sleeve and clattered to the floor. "They're frozen!"
"Yes." A new voice echoed through the room.
Tubadub turned and saw a courageous magical girl with wide blue eyes. Her very short, curly, luxurious hair was the color of ripe plums, and was worn in a utilitarian style. She had an amazonian figure and her plain outfit was mostly blue and yellow. Her water powers had to have been invoked by strange little monsters. He wondered why he was thinking about her plain outfit as she sprinted toward him followed by a sheep.
"I used the Sacrifice of Chains to increase the power of the Shire. And now ... I ... will rule the world! Release the teleporting vampire sheep!" She screamed as she leaped into the air using the forbidden art of Elbow of the Poor Priest. Behind her, the sheep began to glow with an eerie red light as she descended into Tubadub's arms.
He couldn't help but follow the training ingrained in him from an early age. Master Paprikahaunt of the School of the Sky had often tossed random girls into the middle of practice just to make sure he knew the best technique for catching them. "Be careful or I'll use One Million Foxes Underhook of Rolling Knees on your sheep," he said, setting her gently on the floor.
"I'm taking over your government!" She gestured toward the statue-like figures surrounding them. "I have felled your council with my Charismatic Holy Change!"
"Have you looked at me yet?" Tubadub asked calmly. Since she claimed to be from the Shire, he couldn't help but feel this must be divine compensation for the unfortunate and untimely death of the ultrapsychoinformatics master. "By the way, what's your name?"
"Melody Brand!" Her eyes finally focused on him, and her mouth gaped open.
He knew what she was seeing, due to having looked in a mirror longer than is usually advisable that very morning, and had known he would have this effect from many years of experience at stunning girls. His almond-shaped eyes had often been called the exact color of summer leaves. His long, midnight black hair was mostly bound in a series of braids and his build was rather angular. Soon she would compare him to a billowing sandstorm.
"You're just like a billowing sandstorm!" She said, right on cue, and the Vampiric Sheep wandered out the door as she lost her concentration.
"Yes," he said, staring deep into her eyes. "And now you will tell me where the Economic Syndicate of Shires has its secret hideout."
"Why?" She blinked. "And why do I think of a sandstorm when I look at you? Why aren't you like a mountain, or perhaps a rock or pebble?"
Concerned at her incredible resistance to his looks, Tubadub repeated his question, hoping to get an answer before she broke out from beneath the spell completely.
"Why, it's at home, of course!" she said, finally.
"At home!" Tubadub let her limp form slide to the floor and began to pace. "What does it mean? How am I ever going to find the Incomparable Princess of Great Attire and marry her? No other woman will do because only she is rumored to be flashy enough to be noticeable next to me."
"I ... am ... the Princess of Great Attire!" Melody sat up and glared at him. "And I'm taking over your..."
"Yes, yes, my government. I heard you the first time. But that's ridiculous! Your attire is, to be plain spoken,... too plain!"
"Oh, this? This is my camouflage coverall. I knew I'd never make it into Thirty Turtles headquarters in my real clothes. I just wore them underneath so I could reveal the best-outfit-ever in my moment of glory. Only, you got in my way!" She pouted for a moment, then glared at him. "Why aren't you frozen with the rest of them?"
"Hmm?" He looked around the room, then studied her outfit again. "You're really the Princess of Great Attire? Well, you're going to have to prove it."
"You first!" She jumped to her feet, careful not to look directly at his face. "Why aren't you frozen? The Sacrifice of Chains is supposed to work on everyone, unless ... but that isn't possible.... Are you...?"
"I wear the Foul Goblin's Cube of the Damned Witchery of the Screaming Eagles, girl. Only I am proof against every enchantment and technique. It's a necessity in my position. Now prove your claim!"
"Your Royalhighness!" She knelt before him. "I didn't know you were here or I would have waited till you were gone to take over this lowly kingdom and run it better than those idiots! You'd get better tribute from me, that's for sure."
"I don't care about you taking over this government!" Tubadub stomped his foot for the first time since last year. "Prove your claim!"
"Oh? Well, that's easy." She slipped the blue and yellow outfit from her shoulders, to reveal a southern-belle style dress. "And my father will be here momentarily to vouch for me, since I told him to give me enough time to take over before bringing the new council in to take the place of these icicles."
Tubadub grinned. "That's excellent! He will be just in time to complement us, my government-absconding girl! Now you can rule the Kingdom of the Ten Thousand Large Thieves by my side!" He opened his arms. "Come to me!"
"I get to be Empress?" Melody laughed and leaped into his practiced catch. "And I get to snuggle such a cutie too. Wow! I'm sorry I made my hideout so secret."
And they ruled the world with their dazzling appearances until someone stole the Foul Goblin's Cube of the Damned Witchery of the Screaming Eagles for nefarious purposes, leaving them defenseless against the Large Thieves.
What happened after that is another story.
Tubadab Warcurse stomped into Thirty Turtles headquarters and tossed a handful of Jellied Frosted Jawbreakers onto the table. "Which one of you unknowable biters gave these to the top ultrapsychoinformatics master? You all knew he had a sweet tooth and that he's terribly allergic to jelly, and now he's dead! He was just about ready to pinpoint the location of the Economic Syndicate of Shires secret hideout, too!"
The council froze.
"What's this?" Tubadub tapped the brittle arm of the closest politician and an icicle broke from his sleeve and clattered to the floor. "They're frozen!"
"Yes." A new voice echoed through the room.
Tubadub turned and saw a courageous magical girl with wide blue eyes. Her very short, curly, luxurious hair was the color of ripe plums, and was worn in a utilitarian style. She had an amazonian figure and her plain outfit was mostly blue and yellow. Her water powers had to have been invoked by strange little monsters. He wondered why he was thinking about her plain outfit as she sprinted toward him followed by a sheep.
"I used the Sacrifice of Chains to increase the power of the Shire. And now ... I ... will rule the world! Release the teleporting vampire sheep!" She screamed as she leaped into the air using the forbidden art of Elbow of the Poor Priest. Behind her, the sheep began to glow with an eerie red light as she descended into Tubadub's arms.
He couldn't help but follow the training ingrained in him from an early age. Master Paprikahaunt of the School of the Sky had often tossed random girls into the middle of practice just to make sure he knew the best technique for catching them. "Be careful or I'll use One Million Foxes Underhook of Rolling Knees on your sheep," he said, setting her gently on the floor.
"I'm taking over your government!" She gestured toward the statue-like figures surrounding them. "I have felled your council with my Charismatic Holy Change!"
"Have you looked at me yet?" Tubadub asked calmly. Since she claimed to be from the Shire, he couldn't help but feel this must be divine compensation for the unfortunate and untimely death of the ultrapsychoinformatics master. "By the way, what's your name?"
"Melody Brand!" Her eyes finally focused on him, and her mouth gaped open.
He knew what she was seeing, due to having looked in a mirror longer than is usually advisable that very morning, and had known he would have this effect from many years of experience at stunning girls. His almond-shaped eyes had often been called the exact color of summer leaves. His long, midnight black hair was mostly bound in a series of braids and his build was rather angular. Soon she would compare him to a billowing sandstorm.
"You're just like a billowing sandstorm!" She said, right on cue, and the Vampiric Sheep wandered out the door as she lost her concentration.
"Yes," he said, staring deep into her eyes. "And now you will tell me where the Economic Syndicate of Shires has its secret hideout."
"Why?" She blinked. "And why do I think of a sandstorm when I look at you? Why aren't you like a mountain, or perhaps a rock or pebble?"
Concerned at her incredible resistance to his looks, Tubadub repeated his question, hoping to get an answer before she broke out from beneath the spell completely.
"Why, it's at home, of course!" she said, finally.
"At home!" Tubadub let her limp form slide to the floor and began to pace. "What does it mean? How am I ever going to find the Incomparable Princess of Great Attire and marry her? No other woman will do because only she is rumored to be flashy enough to be noticeable next to me."
"I ... am ... the Princess of Great Attire!" Melody sat up and glared at him. "And I'm taking over your..."
"Yes, yes, my government. I heard you the first time. But that's ridiculous! Your attire is, to be plain spoken,... too plain!"
"Oh, this? This is my camouflage coverall. I knew I'd never make it into Thirty Turtles headquarters in my real clothes. I just wore them underneath so I could reveal the best-outfit-ever in my moment of glory. Only, you got in my way!" She pouted for a moment, then glared at him. "Why aren't you frozen with the rest of them?"
"Hmm?" He looked around the room, then studied her outfit again. "You're really the Princess of Great Attire? Well, you're going to have to prove it."
"You first!" She jumped to her feet, careful not to look directly at his face. "Why aren't you frozen? The Sacrifice of Chains is supposed to work on everyone, unless ... but that isn't possible.... Are you...?"
"I wear the Foul Goblin's Cube of the Damned Witchery of the Screaming Eagles, girl. Only I am proof against every enchantment and technique. It's a necessity in my position. Now prove your claim!"
"Your Royalhighness!" She knelt before him. "I didn't know you were here or I would have waited till you were gone to take over this lowly kingdom and run it better than those idiots! You'd get better tribute from me, that's for sure."
"I don't care about you taking over this government!" Tubadub stomped his foot for the first time since last year. "Prove your claim!"
"Oh? Well, that's easy." She slipped the blue and yellow outfit from her shoulders, to reveal a southern-belle style dress. "And my father will be here momentarily to vouch for me, since I told him to give me enough time to take over before bringing the new council in to take the place of these icicles."
Tubadub grinned. "That's excellent! He will be just in time to complement us, my government-absconding girl! Now you can rule the Kingdom of the Ten Thousand Large Thieves by my side!" He opened his arms. "Come to me!"
"I get to be Empress?" Melody laughed and leaped into his practiced catch. "And I get to snuggle such a cutie too. Wow! I'm sorry I made my hideout so secret."
And they ruled the world with their dazzling appearances until someone stole the Foul Goblin's Cube of the Damned Witchery of the Screaming Eagles for nefarious purposes, leaving them defenseless against the Large Thieves.
What happened after that is another story.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Beautiful Thursday - Inspiring Art
I love this picture because it so clearly illuminates what I think of when I look at maps. Someone drawing the lines to define their world, outlining on paper what can't truly be seen. Maps take faith. They are full of mystery both because of what they show as well as that which is hidden by their nature. Old maps, especially, are intriguing because they're so unashamedly filled with all the myths and stories told about the world.
The Geographer by *behindinfinity on deviantART
The Geographer by *behindinfinity on deviantART
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Personality - Introversion
An introvert wears both darkness and light, mingling and weaving them, curling them through life to lure the outside in. Processed perceptions then flow out to impact the world in surprising ways.
---
This is the first of a planned series of 1 hour impressions with the theme of personality. I need something I can create in shorter painting times when life is busy, yet I want to express something and not just practice technique in a vacuum. I'm looking forward to this!
Abstract art is so interactive, leaving more room for the viewer than most art. What do you find in this painting? You don't need to agree with me. I'm interested in everything from one word, to an essay, to poetry.... Should you care to comment, you are welcome to do so.
Monday, September 14, 2009
In my dream...
Write a poem that answers the question “who were you in my dream?”
Poetry Prompt from "Tragedy in the Balance" by L.L.Barkat, whose blog Seedlings in Stone is full of enough gems to make a dragon jealous.
I was the silence,
Hovering,
Watching you toss
As you whispered meaningless gabble.
I wrapped you
And warmed you,
Curled into a ball,
Rebounding the echo
Of My existence
With the sorrow of your cries;
And I waited for you
To open your eyes
And find Me--
Real.
---
It's like a riddle in a poem, or the answer to one.
Poetry Prompt from "Tragedy in the Balance" by L.L.Barkat, whose blog Seedlings in Stone is full of enough gems to make a dragon jealous.
I was the silence,
Hovering,
Watching you toss
As you whispered meaningless gabble.
I wrapped you
And warmed you,
Curled into a ball,
Rebounding the echo
Of My existence
With the sorrow of your cries;
And I waited for you
To open your eyes
And find Me--
Real.
---
It's like a riddle in a poem, or the answer to one.
The Mystery of Being Unique
... In a conventional world.
I've learned something from Karenee's husband, who speaks business as if it were poetry. There is a need for the niche market. And, when I think about it, that is what I pursue,... what all muses desire. Nobody is truly normal. There is no meter or yard for personality that will tell who is too long or too short for the interest of others. This is not to say there is no wrong or right. Everyone has a good and an evil side, though unlike coins, the side that turns up most often is under the control of the person rather than chance.
But just because one person enjoys black, ghosts and snakes and the other is drawn to butterflies, white, and angels, doesn't mean one or the other doesn't measure up to whatever standard for acceptable society "they" have designated. I have noticed that "they" either change their minds a lot, or have had "their" authority misappropriated by various groups. I believe any sort of personality can be accepted and that is partially why society breaks up into smaller categories of like interest. The purposeful exclusion of "outsiders" from these groups is sad but predictable considering the lack of understanding and unreasonable bitterness that comes with gossip, cliche, and stereotyping. But haven't you noticed that when different groups join together in a common purpose, in order to share and enjoy the best of each other, that the atmosphere becomes healthier and creativity is enhanced?
I condemn certain things because they are evil. Don't get me wrong, I don't believe in the sort of world where it's "okay to do anything so long as nobody gets hurt," since I also know that nobody recognizes the consequences of their actions at all times, even when they are convinced they are doing what's right. I believe in a higher authority that has permitted its underlings a certain amount of rope with which to *... well, we all know the end of that phrase, don't we? And I also believe that this same authority reaches down into the tangle we've created in an open offer to rescue us and recreate our mess into art.
After all, he made us all unique. We're not cut out of the same dough with cookie cutters; we're each an exclusive concoction of thought and experience, carefully shaped. Why would we want to look or be like anyone else? It isn't the point to conform to another human image, but to permit ourselves to be shaped by a master craftsman who knows how to work around our flaws and draw out the best in us to become nonpareil.
*hang themselves
I've learned something from Karenee's husband, who speaks business as if it were poetry. There is a need for the niche market. And, when I think about it, that is what I pursue,... what all muses desire. Nobody is truly normal. There is no meter or yard for personality that will tell who is too long or too short for the interest of others. This is not to say there is no wrong or right. Everyone has a good and an evil side, though unlike coins, the side that turns up most often is under the control of the person rather than chance.
But just because one person enjoys black, ghosts and snakes and the other is drawn to butterflies, white, and angels, doesn't mean one or the other doesn't measure up to whatever standard for acceptable society "they" have designated. I have noticed that "they" either change their minds a lot, or have had "their" authority misappropriated by various groups. I believe any sort of personality can be accepted and that is partially why society breaks up into smaller categories of like interest. The purposeful exclusion of "outsiders" from these groups is sad but predictable considering the lack of understanding and unreasonable bitterness that comes with gossip, cliche, and stereotyping. But haven't you noticed that when different groups join together in a common purpose, in order to share and enjoy the best of each other, that the atmosphere becomes healthier and creativity is enhanced?
I condemn certain things because they are evil. Don't get me wrong, I don't believe in the sort of world where it's "okay to do anything so long as nobody gets hurt," since I also know that nobody recognizes the consequences of their actions at all times, even when they are convinced they are doing what's right. I believe in a higher authority that has permitted its underlings a certain amount of rope with which to *... well, we all know the end of that phrase, don't we? And I also believe that this same authority reaches down into the tangle we've created in an open offer to rescue us and recreate our mess into art.
After all, he made us all unique. We're not cut out of the same dough with cookie cutters; we're each an exclusive concoction of thought and experience, carefully shaped. Why would we want to look or be like anyone else? It isn't the point to conform to another human image, but to permit ourselves to be shaped by a master craftsman who knows how to work around our flaws and draw out the best in us to become nonpareil.
*hang themselves
My Cat Ate A Centipede!
I am going to avoid kissing him for a while now.... *shudder*
Insta-poem!
'Twas a long-legged critter
And over my floor
It scuttled and scampered
Past the dining room door.
Like a living dust bunny
As is their code
It thought to take charge
Of my space, my abode.
So I took to the broom
And with a great whack
Took charge of my place
And got it all back.
But then my young kitten,
Who'd run from the critter,
Decided to take back
The courage he'd frittered,
And gobbled the pile
Of twitching legs there
As I fled from the room
Wishing I didn't care.
Insta-poem!
'Twas a long-legged critter
And over my floor
It scuttled and scampered
Past the dining room door.
Like a living dust bunny
As is their code
It thought to take charge
Of my space, my abode.
So I took to the broom
And with a great whack
Took charge of my place
And got it all back.
But then my young kitten,
Who'd run from the critter,
Decided to take back
The courage he'd frittered,
And gobbled the pile
Of twitching legs there
As I fled from the room
Wishing I didn't care.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Trees
Watching a tree change with the weather, light and seasons is one of the beautiful melodies we see every day. With cameras we capture one note, one beat, and then the melody moves on. I'm reluctant to turn away from watching the ripple of their existence as they wrap their surroundings in texture, scent, and life.
To paint a tree is an ever-changing process. Leaves reflect differently from one moment to the next, subtly touching the air with the taste of sunlight. (Sunlight through leaves has an entirely different flavor than when I drink it, pure and strong, direct from the source. It is cooled and quieted, enriched by the contact.) One can never capture a tree in it's entirety. Time is essential to its aspect.
If you could see time as it permeates the texture of life, you would no longer wonder at some of the mysteries that perplex you. But that is another topic, for another time.
To paint a tree is an ever-changing process. Leaves reflect differently from one moment to the next, subtly touching the air with the taste of sunlight. (Sunlight through leaves has an entirely different flavor than when I drink it, pure and strong, direct from the source. It is cooled and quieted, enriched by the contact.) One can never capture a tree in it's entirety. Time is essential to its aspect.
If you could see time as it permeates the texture of life, you would no longer wonder at some of the mysteries that perplex you. But that is another topic, for another time.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Flying Through Fog
There are techniques for flying in fog when you're a Phoenix. Flying dark is actually safer. I close my eyes and listen. All around me the world calls out its position and intention. With my eyes closed I can hear the voices.
I swoop low, listening to the twitter of the stone. Rocks have surprisingly high voices. They chirp like birds as they nestle against the earth. Eventually they are kicked out of the nest by frost or flood, but they congregate together in flocks and rub each other smooth. It is the smooth rocks that get the most respect, but up in the mountains smooth stone is harder to come by. Rough edges sing louder, though.
Trees have thick, rich tones, easy to dance through. They sing in trio with the wind and water, following the tune of the seasons, keeping rhythm with day and night. I flex and stretch my wings as my mouth waters at the scent of sun-fire transmitted within their song.
Even the air sings the friction of its contact with the earth. The sound of air tastes like fresh sparks from a volcano. Have you ever tasted fresh volcano? Oh, wait. You're probably human and that would kill you. It's similar to the chocolate that Karenee drools over, I suppose. The kind with a hint of hot pepper flavor.
I prefer sight, but the rich sensations of communication found beyond lure me to practice flying dark even when there is no fog.
Try tasting sound sometime. Breathe in. Can you sense the texture of the source?
--
Karenee says I have to tell you she's not synesthetic. But I am. It's fun.
I swoop low, listening to the twitter of the stone. Rocks have surprisingly high voices. They chirp like birds as they nestle against the earth. Eventually they are kicked out of the nest by frost or flood, but they congregate together in flocks and rub each other smooth. It is the smooth rocks that get the most respect, but up in the mountains smooth stone is harder to come by. Rough edges sing louder, though.
Trees have thick, rich tones, easy to dance through. They sing in trio with the wind and water, following the tune of the seasons, keeping rhythm with day and night. I flex and stretch my wings as my mouth waters at the scent of sun-fire transmitted within their song.
Even the air sings the friction of its contact with the earth. The sound of air tastes like fresh sparks from a volcano. Have you ever tasted fresh volcano? Oh, wait. You're probably human and that would kill you. It's similar to the chocolate that Karenee drools over, I suppose. The kind with a hint of hot pepper flavor.
I prefer sight, but the rich sensations of communication found beyond lure me to practice flying dark even when there is no fog.
Try tasting sound sometime. Breathe in. Can you sense the texture of the source?
--
Karenee says I have to tell you she's not synesthetic. But I am. It's fun.
An Upgraded Self-Portrait
I wanted to do a better job on my portrait. Today I had the chance! Too bad I wouldn't show up in a photograph even if Karenee's camera weren't broken. I'd put up a picture so you could see how close I came to accuracy.
Too Normal to Sleep
I've been lying there thinking while Karenee worries about not getting enough sleep. She forgot to take her sleeping pills, and I think it's great. I don't usually have hours of quiet to fly into other realms and view the scenery.
Seeing as how this is my first post, I ought to be telling you what I was thinking about, but I'm not focused enough to do that. Karenee just laughed at me. She usually claims that trait when she's listing her faults, but it's actually mine, and I don't think it's so bad. Something new is always going on! Just think how boring life would be if we didn't pay attention.
Right now I'm listening to Nightwish's rendition of "Phantom of the Opera." I'd love to sing like that. Sometimes when nobody is around, I make Karenee try it out. You should see us dancing too, though she flatly denies that what we do is dancing. Tonight she's too tired. I can't make her dance, and she'd never let me show you a picture of it. One of these days I'll describe it for you. If I remember to. Ahaha! Karenee just determined to forget about dancing for the rest of her life! Ah, I'll wait for her to settle down and then put on some good music one of these days.
By the way, what do you think of the header graphic?
I drew that. It was surprising, even to me, that seven people looked at it in the first minute after we posted. Karenee told me it's because I'm pretty. I love drawing self-portraits. This isn't the best I can do, but for now it is enough. I haven't yet gained thousands of readers.
Oooh, look at Karenee wince. She thinks that's prideful, or at the very least delusional. Well, I don't see why I can't admit that's what I want. She says it would be uncomfortable to get fame and fortune, that it glitters more than it warms, but I still wouldn't mind finding out. Just think of the good we could do! ... To which Karenee is muttering something about potential collateral damage. The woman is depressing! When God handed out muses I'm not sure what He was thinking about with this pairing.
I'm not stopping at thousands though. I intend a meteoric rise? No, no... that's the wrong image. Meteors fall. I shall rise like a Phoenix, that is what I shall do, since this is what I am. And, if I crash and burn, I always come back and flare to life again, like those candles with gunpowder in them.
Karenee says this is getting too long and that we'll lose any readers unfortunate enough to read this far. Are you lost? I didn't think so. We're having a comfortable chat. I'll have to tell you about Phoenixes. I bet you don't know what I eat, do you? Or what I drink? You definitely haven't seen the dimensions I visit regularly....
Karenee's sleeping pill is kicking in now. I'm beginning to feel dopey. Now this could be entertaining for everyone, but she is threatening to take over the keyboard even though she promised not to, so I'll end for tonight. I'll be back, though. Now, add a familiar accent. "I'll be back!"
Come again!
Seeing as how this is my first post, I ought to be telling you what I was thinking about, but I'm not focused enough to do that. Karenee just laughed at me. She usually claims that trait when she's listing her faults, but it's actually mine, and I don't think it's so bad. Something new is always going on! Just think how boring life would be if we didn't pay attention.
Right now I'm listening to Nightwish's rendition of "Phantom of the Opera." I'd love to sing like that. Sometimes when nobody is around, I make Karenee try it out. You should see us dancing too, though she flatly denies that what we do is dancing. Tonight she's too tired. I can't make her dance, and she'd never let me show you a picture of it. One of these days I'll describe it for you. If I remember to. Ahaha! Karenee just determined to forget about dancing for the rest of her life! Ah, I'll wait for her to settle down and then put on some good music one of these days.
By the way, what do you think of the header graphic?
Oooh, look at Karenee wince. She thinks that's prideful, or at the very least delusional. Well, I don't see why I can't admit that's what I want. She says it would be uncomfortable to get fame and fortune, that it glitters more than it warms, but I still wouldn't mind finding out. Just think of the good we could do! ... To which Karenee is muttering something about potential collateral damage. The woman is depressing! When God handed out muses I'm not sure what He was thinking about with this pairing.
I'm not stopping at thousands though. I intend a meteoric rise? No, no... that's the wrong image. Meteors fall. I shall rise like a Phoenix, that is what I shall do, since this is what I am. And, if I crash and burn, I always come back and flare to life again, like those candles with gunpowder in them.
Karenee says this is getting too long and that we'll lose any readers unfortunate enough to read this far. Are you lost? I didn't think so. We're having a comfortable chat. I'll have to tell you about Phoenixes. I bet you don't know what I eat, do you? Or what I drink? You definitely haven't seen the dimensions I visit regularly....
Karenee's sleeping pill is kicking in now. I'm beginning to feel dopey. Now this could be entertaining for everyone, but she is threatening to take over the keyboard even though she promised not to, so I'll end for tonight. I'll be back, though. Now, add a familiar accent. "I'll be back!"
Come again!
Finding Karenee Around the Web
Email:
phoenixkarenee (at)gmail (dot) com
Visit my Gallery
Connecting Paths:
PhoenixKarenee on Twitter - updates and news, snippets of each blog post, and the occasional foray into community events such as the Twitter poetry jam with the High Callings network of poets.
Karenee Art on Google+ - Yet another place where I post my thoughts on art and creativity, with the benefit of your feedback, conversation, and relationships to recommend it.
My phone number or address:
Please send an email containing the reason for your request. I am still in process of building a business structure and am not comfortable with making personal information widely available.
Articles, journals or blogs featuring my writing and art:
(Soon to grow. Updated sporadically.)
"Catching the Cat's Tale" - an article on writing for Vision in 2004.
phoenixkarenee (at)gmail (dot) com
Visit my Gallery
Connecting Paths:
PhoenixKarenee on Twitter - updates and news, snippets of each blog post, and the occasional foray into community events such as the Twitter poetry jam with the High Callings network of poets.
Karenee Art on Google+ - Yet another place where I post my thoughts on art and creativity, with the benefit of your feedback, conversation, and relationships to recommend it.
My phone number or address:
Please send an email containing the reason for your request. I am still in process of building a business structure and am not comfortable with making personal information widely available.
Articles, journals or blogs featuring my writing and art:
(Soon to grow. Updated sporadically.)
"Catching the Cat's Tale" - an article on writing for Vision in 2004.
Recommended Blogs and Sites
Vision: A Resource for Writers and the forum with which it is associated Forward Motion Writer's Community - A place to meet with other writers. They offer frequent writing classes and many unique options for developing and maturing your writing.
DeviantART - A complex and lively art community with never a dull day. They also make it easy to post, view, and sell art.
Twitterfeed looks like it will solve the problem of how to combine my online activities into a single feed through Twitter. Eventually, the goal is to make a single, seamless unit out of my online presence so people can just find one place to keep track of everything I share. I'm one step closer now. Networking is so complicated!
DeviantART - A complex and lively art community with never a dull day. They also make it easy to post, view, and sell art.
Twitterfeed looks like it will solve the problem of how to combine my online activities into a single feed through Twitter. Eventually, the goal is to make a single, seamless unit out of my online presence so people can just find one place to keep track of everything I share. I'm one step closer now. Networking is so complicated!
Rubble to Build On
By Any Other Name - Limerick, was submitted to the LOL @ that Limerick contest on DA. Here is the link to the winners, who absolutely deserved their reward.
The photo-manipulation Color for Sky was inspired by the My Own Fairytale contest. Here is the link to the winners, which are all amazing and well worth looking at. (I'll have to do something with the story that went with the image, though. Maybe I'll post it here someday?)
2 submissions to Hint Fiction Anthology "Thank you for your submission, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to use your work for the anthology. With over 2,400 stories submitted and less than 3% being accepted for final inclusion, it took a long time to narrow down the selections and I appreciate your patience. The best of luck to you with all your writing." A very polite rejection note, and now to figure out what to do with all this poetry pouring out my ears....
The photo-manipulation Color for Sky was inspired by the My Own Fairytale contest. Here is the link to the winners, which are all amazing and well worth looking at. (I'll have to do something with the story that went with the image, though. Maybe I'll post it here someday?)
2 submissions to Hint Fiction Anthology "Thank you for your submission, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to use your work for the anthology. With over 2,400 stories submitted and less than 3% being accepted for final inclusion, it took a long time to narrow down the selections and I appreciate your patience. The best of luck to you with all your writing." A very polite rejection note, and now to figure out what to do with all this poetry pouring out my ears....
Active Submissions and Contests
Color for Sky submitted to My Own Fairytale contest.
Wear the Night Sky submitted to Dresses contest.
Rose Rain Dance submitted to Dancing in the Rain contest.
Bilbo Falls and Show Me My Beast submitted to Twisted Fairytales contest.
Counterpoint Life submitted to Down with Clichés Contest
Wear the Night Sky submitted to Dresses contest.
Rose Rain Dance submitted to Dancing in the Rain contest.
Bilbo Falls and Show Me My Beast submitted to Twisted Fairytales contest.
Counterpoint Life submitted to Down with Clichés Contest
The Explanation -- I might not say this again.
This is Phoenix's world.
She is my muse and I've promised not to intrude here so she will have free reign. She's determined to discover her capabilities, and is aiming for the mountain tops because she thinks I'm lame for sticking to the foothills. Since I can't deny her claim that we won't know how high she'll fly if she doesn't try, we're creating this site. I'll leave it to you to decide whether it's worth sticking around. (Phoenix is laughing at me right now for doubting her.)
I am disassociating myself from my fears and setting aside the knowledge that I may not be good enough to accomplish my goals. Phoenix is what is left when I throw away fear and doubt. I suppose one day we might integrate again, but for now I'm letting her separate. Creating her story, acting her part, I think I can do this. It gives me permission to try even when it doesn't make sense. Phoenix doesn't have to be sensible.
I know I'm not likely to reach the mountaintop. But if Phoenix brings me to the top of the foothills I'll be thrilled. If we don't climb, then at least we tried. I don't think Phoenix will ever give up, even when I want to. We'll keep learning together and, if nothing else, we will entertain ourselves.
My home, family and daily life won't be a part of this blog, except when Phoenix decides to philosophize about them. The content will primarily be art, writing, and random strangeness. Because I don't intend to connect my family or friends to this place for now, Phoenix will feel no hesitation about posting the peculiar aspects of her thought processes. (We have imported all that is clearly Phoenix from my home blog, which is why you will see content from years before this blog was created.)
In the end, however, Phoenix will still portray what she sees of God. We hope, together, that you will see some aspects of His character and the way He interacts with real people. I hope never to be ashamed of the way I represent Him, though I could never clearly display the grandeur of who He is. May you catch a glimpse of Him through me, and perhaps even look toward Jesus as a result. Eventually, Phoenix and I will put together a statement of faith, but for now this stands as your warning. Be prepared for our world-view.
She is my muse and I've promised not to intrude here so she will have free reign. She's determined to discover her capabilities, and is aiming for the mountain tops because she thinks I'm lame for sticking to the foothills. Since I can't deny her claim that we won't know how high she'll fly if she doesn't try, we're creating this site. I'll leave it to you to decide whether it's worth sticking around. (Phoenix is laughing at me right now for doubting her.)
I am disassociating myself from my fears and setting aside the knowledge that I may not be good enough to accomplish my goals. Phoenix is what is left when I throw away fear and doubt. I suppose one day we might integrate again, but for now I'm letting her separate. Creating her story, acting her part, I think I can do this. It gives me permission to try even when it doesn't make sense. Phoenix doesn't have to be sensible.
I know I'm not likely to reach the mountaintop. But if Phoenix brings me to the top of the foothills I'll be thrilled. If we don't climb, then at least we tried. I don't think Phoenix will ever give up, even when I want to. We'll keep learning together and, if nothing else, we will entertain ourselves.
My home, family and daily life won't be a part of this blog, except when Phoenix decides to philosophize about them. The content will primarily be art, writing, and random strangeness. Because I don't intend to connect my family or friends to this place for now, Phoenix will feel no hesitation about posting the peculiar aspects of her thought processes. (We have imported all that is clearly Phoenix from my home blog, which is why you will see content from years before this blog was created.)
In the end, however, Phoenix will still portray what she sees of God. We hope, together, that you will see some aspects of His character and the way He interacts with real people. I hope never to be ashamed of the way I represent Him, though I could never clearly display the grandeur of who He is. May you catch a glimpse of Him through me, and perhaps even look toward Jesus as a result. Eventually, Phoenix and I will put together a statement of faith, but for now this stands as your warning. Be prepared for our world-view.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)