Happy Easter for those who celebrate (also Ramadan was this week, along with Passover)

I don't really celebrate? I'm not overly religious. ( Read more... )

***

I've hit a bit of a creative block of late, so am working to push past it. I started drawing again - painting to follow. And I may start framing and hanging some of my work. Also digitizing it.

And I've kind of gone back to The Artist's Way, in that I'm doing the morning pages again. The Artist's dates I kind of do anyhow, but I may hunt something special to do once a month.

I almost wish I could do a poll - to see how many single folks wander along these pages, and correspond with me? But alas, I'd need a paid subscription for that - and I refuse to pay for social media. I don't care if other's do, I just refuse to? I guess it's kind of similar of how folks feel towards television?

Time is going by quickly. On the week days is slugs by, on the weekends, it skips quickly along and before I know it half the day is gone and here I am, having accomplished seemingly little? I managed to make my bed up clean, take a shower, robot vacuum, sort through a boat load of mail, read a little, write a little, draw a picture - I don't know if I like it, but it's there. Make apple cinnamon muffins resulting in increased blood sugar, but oh well. And a few frozen yogurt treats in the Ninja Creamer - which is better at sorbet and frozen yogurt than much else. Still experimenting with it and the mini waffle maker, which apparently can create miniature omelets and hasbrowns from mashed potatoes?

***

Been binge-watching Resident Alien on Netflix - almost done with S1.
It's good, a bit dark in places, and not exactly what I'd call a comedy - in that I don't really find it funny. However, I like the characters, the premise, the satire, and it's weirdly compelling. It kind of falls more into satire than much else?

***

Dozed of while writng htis. Been feeling tired of late for some reason or other.

My neighborhood & building in Brooklyn & the insane number of Easter decorations in the lobby...

Instead of watching television today, took a walk, dozed, tried to draw, and watched two UUA services on Facebook. I'd kind of like to combine them?

And took photos around my neighborhood - in Brooklyn, mainly to demonstrate that I do not live in a urban environment. Not a skyscraper in sight.

( my neighborhood in Brooklyn )

Below is the willow trees outside the apartment complex, along with two flowers.










And here's the reason I couldn't forget it was Easter. My apartment complex went all out with the decorations, also why I knew Ramadan was this week.



( The rest of the decorations...because they go all out )

They even invite the kids to a Easter Brunch on the Saturday before Easter for treats and a visit with the Easter Bunny.

Wasted life? Poetry and art in the eye of the beholder?

I keep landing on this poem every time I enter DW today:

It's by Mary Oliver, who seems to be the poet of the moment.

"I know, you never intended to be in this world.
But you’re in it all the same.

So why not get started immediately.

I mean, belonging to it.
There is so much to admire, to weep over.

And to write music or poems about.

Bless the feet that take you to and fro.
Bless the eyes and the listening ears.
Bless the tongue, the marvel of taste.
Bless touching.

You could live a hundred years, it’s happened.
Or not.
I am speaking from the fortunate platform
of many years,
none of which, I think, I ever wasted.
Do you need a prod?
Do you need a little darkness to get you going?
Let me be as urgent as a knife, then,
and remind you of Keats,
so single of purpose and thinking, for a while,
he had a lifetime.


The line that grates is "none of which, I think, I ever wasted" - there's this view that sitting still is wasting life. Or watching a television show. Or sleeping. Or staring into space. Or spending weekends playing on social media, or talking on the phone.

But what do we know? And she doesn't really say that? But I'm not sure of the poem.

I have a love/hate relationship with poetry and always have.( Read more... )

***

I watched a film tonight, part I, The Bread Factory, which I rented for $3.95 on Apple TV. I'm not quite certain what to make of it. It's slow. But it is supposed to be. It is what I'd call hyper-realism. About a culture clash in a small town in Upstate New York. One reviewer on IMBD called it a bad film, while the New Yorker Reviewer applauded it. Again, art, remains in the eye of the beholder. We see it through our own lens.

My brother is annoyingly snobbish about film and art. ( Read more... )

**

I'm trying to turn off the critical mind. That rips and tears. And stomps on creative impulses. That questions what I've wrought. Saying it's not good enough. Seeing the flaws and cracks within.

Does my drawing have to look like the photo I was using as a guide? No. No one will know what I used but me, anyhow.

I've realized that I struggle with compliments. Mother says that I almost get defensive about them. Which is an odd thing to say? I'd say I'm more surprised by them? And find myself doing a double-take. Wait? What? What did you say? Could you say that again please, so I can take it in and actually believe it is real and not imagined? Our world, I think, is too ready with the critique, and not always that ready with the compliment?
We like to tear folks down to build ourselves up, as opposed to build them up and build up ourselves in equal standing?

We should walk hand in hand, I think? And not in competition. I've always hated competition. Yet, it appears to be as ingrained in me as everyone.