Monday, July 26, 2010

ABCs (Artists, their Blogs and Creativity)

Week 19 of 52 weeks  - The Magic of MarblingImage by Georgie Sharp via Flickr
There seems to be, always, something new to learn. Artists are eager for their electronic muse(s)' input on unfamiliar techniques, materials and permission to play outside their comfortable past achievements in creating new pieces of art. A search for mixed media techniques takes me from YouTube to links on artist bloggers' sites to other artist bloggers. I could easily become a couch potato, eyes on the screen WATCHING other people MAKE art.There soon comes for me not enough hours in the's a good thing I'm "retired" or I wouldn't have time for all the new things in my life (like painting on water....check this one out below!).
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Saturday, July 3, 2010

Who says blogging isn't creative?

Looking for Dotee Dolls on google, I found a blog site that included the words "create a blog" and I followed the lead. Setting up a blog site it easy...blogging itself is not something you are born with, like sight (or second sight) or hunger. After CCC was named and in place, I was asked if I wanted to "manage" my blogs, and that's when I found out this was not my first blog site on blogger but my third: first was "Tea & Poetry" with no entries (I write poetry), then "The Buzz" with no entries (I am a beekeeper). So the blog site stops here. If I can't contribute to a blog (if I create them, will "they" come to read them?) of my own making, then why set them up. So being said, here is first attempt at keeping up at blogging.

Having read some really fine blogs, I have a tendency to want to be as great as they were (don't remember their names, however). That's what happens when I try to has to be worthy of saying before I say it. Except that's not what keeping a journal is all about.

That reminds me of the last level I got to in Toastmasters...the one where you are to put away your notes and give the "speech" from the comfort of the speech that's in you getting out. I objected. The words I wrote were each and every one (or so it seemed to me) important, chosen for the best word to use, selected for literary value, weighted for just the right impact. I couldn't possibly give my speech "from memory" or from letting go and letting it out. So ended the toastmasters phase of my life.

At 66, a lot of phases of my life have ended, or at least seem less important than whatever is going on at the present time in my life. Like waiting for Ann so that we can go do the bees. I think that's her now.