Showing posts with label doodle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label doodle. Show all posts

Friday, April 22, 2016

Children



*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Happy Earth Day, one and all!

This planet is a beautiful thing, isn't it? Everything is connected and fits together perfectly. There are clear patterns and cycles and we all have a place in them. If you ever feel insignificant or lost or alone. just remember that the Earth has a place for you and you are exactly where you need to be.

Just like Mother Earth takes care of us, it should be our duty to take care of her, too. 

Happy Earth Day to you all, and to my Earth Mother, Gramma Aw.

Super awkward twelve year old Amanda, her clarinet, and her crazy Gramma Aw. 

a.r.w.

Thursday, April 21, 2016

Face


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Day Four of Mother Earth Week makes an attempt at a somewhat realistic doodle of my Earth Mother. I will be the first to admit that I am not particularly good at this--I prefer drawing my big eyed, bushy eye lashed, stained glass haired girls. But, just like my previous attempt in drawing somewhat realistically in the post Pulling, I am pretty proud of myself. I don't know why but I feel like this Earth Mother kind of looks like Scarlett Johansson... Not too sure how that happened!

Today's post is called "Face"... Not only for the obvious reason--it's a doodle of a girl's face (my specialty... Haha!!)--but for the fact that in 2016 we need to face the facts, accept that the increased rate of climate change is our own doing, and start doing something about it. Stop debating.  Face it and stop it. Stop talking and start doing. 

My Gramma Aw and so many before her made it her mission to not only respect Mother Earth but also teach her grandchildren to do the same. Let's take a page out of her book and continue on in the works that so many have tried to do--love, respect, protect, and conserve the planet--for as long as we have this Giant Blueberry to call home.

Baby Amanda and Afro Gramma compliments of 1990

a.r.w.

PS: Still missing those watercolors...

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

For Sale



*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Day three of Earth Mother Week brings us a doodle of my purple haired, topless, Nike wearing Mother Earth. This doodle is based on the poem I posted yesterday

Our Earth Mother is sad. She sees the damage we are doing and hears the denial from so many unwilling to change their ways for the good of their children and their children's children. She's begun to decide to take matters into her own hands--whether that's selling her Nike's or fighting back with the power of Nature.

Personally, I wouldn't blame her if she starts to fight dirty... I would too after centuries of abuse. 

Strategically cropped to hide little naked Amanda the day Gramma Aw showed me how to dunk my head under the water without plugging my nose. Circa, 1993?

a.r.w.

PS: I miss my watercolors... so much. 69 days until I can get my grubby little paws on them again.

Friday, April 8, 2016

Away

the day you went away

nothing could prepare me
for the day you went away.
i saw the writing on the wall
yet still begged you to stay.

"please don't leave me all alone.
don't make me journey on
through this life's endless hopes and fears
after you've already gone."

a battle was bravely fought
and won... and lost.
and in our deep heartbreak
into a new world we were forced to cross.

i stood all alone
in a sea of doubt.
if there was no hope to be had
what was this life all about?

i wandered through my days
suddenly lost and unfeeling,
not an end at all in sight.
no chance of ever healing.

i had lost my dear sweet brother--
my long lost forgotten half.
now the silenced shared laughter
in the old photograph.

so far away.
so lost and alone.
no one could save me.
my heart turned to stone.

i still look back
on the day you went away.
i call out, "why, god? why?"
but won't hear what he has to say.

i find my comfort
in the stars above.
though distant, their light still shines
just like our shared love.

i don't need solutions
or answers to why.
all i need to do
is look up to the sky.

"i am not gone,"
a voice whispers to me.
"i am everywhere now.
oh, why can't you see?

"even as the sun shines,
the stars are still there.
let their light remind you
how much i still care.

"so continue through life--
see what lies in store.
i'll be There waiting for you
when you walk through the door."

nothing could prepare me
for the day you went away.
but as i sit and close my eyes,
loud and clear, i hear you say,

"don't worry about me!
i promise i'm fine.
we'll be together again, i swear.
but while you wait in the meantime

"take the love i gave to you;
here's the gift that i bestow:
share my love with those around you.
stand back and watch it grow!

"this is all i have to give--
this is my gift to you.
i hope it makes you smile
and will help others, too."

a piece of my heart
followed you that day.
but it seems a piece of yours, too,
decided that it would stay.

this life isn't easy.
my world is a mess.
but you were Here for a short while...
so it was blessed, nonetheless.

a.r.w.


Thursday, December 3, 2015

Cascade

memories of you
come cascading down my cheeks
whispering your words 



*~*~*~*~*~*~*

First rehearsal for All Through the Night and I have a lot of time on my hands and an empty notebook... Here's a haiku (shock shock) that found its way into the crazy collage of doodles from tonight. 

a.r.w.

Friday, October 30, 2015

Sugar

 
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 
I'm in a huge Disney kick lately but I'm still trying to keep up with my Halloween posts... So, here are my sugar skull Disney princesses. I feel like you either love these princesses--their optimism, sweet nature, and kindness--or you hate them and see them as weak, pathetic, and a product of the time they were created. They are just dumb chicks with pretty faces... I wanted to take those pretty face and paint them even more.
 
I love the classic princesses. Of course, they are not the typical strong heroine that we are so used to in our stories today but there is more to be admired in someone than just their strength--kindness goes a long way and in the end people will remember how you treat them, not how impressive you think you are.
 
Only one more day until Halloween!!!!!!
 
a.r.w.

Wednesday, October 28, 2015

Hiding

 
There is a cat hiding out on the moon, I know. I've seen him smiling down on me.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 
Now this picture did not come out as nice as I wanted it to be... but I still love my black cat hiding out on the moon.
 
My whole life whenever I see a crescent moon, I always point and say, "The Cheshire Cat smile!" Crescent moons are my absolute favorite because of that very reason.
 
In my mind I have a story of how a witch was flying by the moon on her broomstick when her pet cat fell off and landed safely on the moon. At first he was annoyed by the inconvenience but lately, he smiles. Up on the moon there is no sadness, no worries, no one to think that you're bad luck, and no pesky dogs always barking at you.
 
Only 3 more days until Halloween!!
 
a.r.w.

Sunday, October 25, 2015

Fuzzies

"Aw, crap."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It's snowing already.

I know, I know. I'm in Siberia and I should have expected this. I was warned, "Winter is coming," but I didn't expect it to arrive so quickly!

We've had a few flurries (or "fuzzies" as my coworkers like to call them) but nothing impressive or substantial... until today. There is a mantle of white out there and it isn't even Halloween yet! Though, I suppose Christmas is only two months away...

Poor Mr. Jack 'o Lantern... nobody gives his holiday a chance (though he gets a bit more attention than Mr. Turkey).

Only 6 days until Halloween!

a.r.w.

Saturday, October 24, 2015

The Gift

When stars are born

 
They possess a gift or two
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 
There is an old Serbian proverb that says, Be humble for you are made of earth. Be noble for you are made of stars. We are the very best of both worlds. Star dust makes up our very beings--star dust from millions and billions of years ago, connecting us to the very universe that surrounds. If that is not a magnificent thought, then I don't know what is.
 
Today's doodle was created from inspiration by a great number of different things throughout the day.
 
The first was listening to the music from the Disney firework show "Wishes" which starts with the very famous and oh so beloved saying, "When stars are born, they possess a gift or two... One of them is this: They have the power to make a wish come true." Immediately I thought to the precious brother I BEGGED my parents for. I wanted nothing more than to be a big sister... and my wish was granted with Jed. He has given me the greatest relationship I have ever seen between a brother and a sister, a lifetime of memories, years of laughter, and an incredible friend. I miss my brother--my star--every single day (today is one of those rough days if you can't tell...) but I am so grateful for him for making my wish come true and making my life so much brighter.
 
Another inspiration from today was a post I saw online that was between two stars talking to one another saying, "Being a human was the hardest thing I ever had to do." "Same here." My breath was taken away by that thought.  This is the hard part of life--the tears, the pain, the sickness--but that will make the joyful reunion and happy eternity over There all the sweeter. Jed has become that shining star once more, illuminating my world that has turned a bit too dark for my liking lately.
 
I think back to that beautiful quote from Star Wars: Luminous beings are we... not this crude matter. It seems to be a similar idea--across cultures--that once we make it through this part of life and travel from Here to There, life gets brighter... as do we...
 
From stars we came from and to stars we will return.
 
a.r.w.

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

Flower Lady

 
There's a little old lady
I see her around
She's one of the ghosts that follows me
Selling flowers throughout town
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 
There is this old lady I see sometimes on my way home from work. I usually see her at night when it is raining and she is always holding a bouquet of flowers in her hand, hoping to sell them. Twice now I've passed her going into the grocery story, thinking, I'll get some change and then buy her flowers. But each time I come out of the store she vanishes from sight. She's a mystery! A ghostly flower lady!
 
Every so often a small child looks at you or maybe just slightly to the left or right of you, fascinated. But when you turn to see what it is they're staring at, there's nothing there. Maybe they're more in tune with the spirit world and see what we cannot. Maybe we all have different ghosts walking with us through this journey of life. Sometimes I like to think I have a whole collection of ghosts following me around.
 
Only 10--TEN!!--days until Halloween!!
 
a.r.w.
 

 
 

Saturday, October 17, 2015

and Round

a princess’s life
to just be wild and free
take yourself and go
 
*~*~*~*~*
an empresss life
trapped within an illusion
shes forever theirs
 
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 
One of my idols and favorite historical figures is the very mysterious and very peculiar Sisi, Empress Elisabeth of Austria. At just fifteen, she became the empress of probably the most powerful monarchy in the world. Her life started as a Cinderella story--a nobody princess, living a wild and carefree life in Bavaria. After meeting the young and handsome Franz Josef, she married for love and quickly realized that the dream of love and luxury was actually a nightmare. No longer free to do what she wanted--explore, play, ride horses, and simply be her carefree self--she became trapped in the pleasantries of court life where she was simply the emperor's beautiful wife... Until she took matters into her own hands.
 
Always an enigma, she was considered the most beautiful woman in the world at the time and she used that to her advantage. She used sex as a weapon against her husband and as a bargaining tool when it came to protecting the common folk in the countries under her control. Her beauty regime lasted hours--she bathed in milk, washed her hair in cognac, ate only oranges and eggs, exercised to exhaustion, and would probably have been considered anorexic by today's standards. And yet the people adored her and even today people are still fascinated with the tragic beauty.
 
Here are two haikus about Sisi--one from when she was a child and another when she was a queen... To go along with the haikus, I thought of drawing her with one of her beloved horses but then decided to put a twist on it--her horses took her nowhere and she was never able to fully escape the reaches of the Habsburg regime--her horses were nothing more than little carousel horses, always bringing her back to where she belonged.
 
a.r.w.

Friday, October 16, 2015

Boogeyman

As I lay in bed in a restless sleep, my phone buzzes, alerting me of a text message. It illuminates the otherwise dark room, blinding my eyes for a moment. I reach out for it, blinking the sleep from my eyes. It reads:

MARK:
Wake up.

"Mark, stop it," I mumble, tossing my phone back onto the bedside table.

"Stop what?" his groggy voice responds in the darkness next to me.

"Texting me..."

A moment passes and then he asks, confused, "What are you talking about?"

"You just texted me--cut it out."

"It wasn't me--"

It buzzes again.

MARK:
Can you hear me?

"Mark!"

"It's not me!" he tries to defend himself. "My phone is in the living room!"

I lay still in the bad, my eyes wide as I stare up at the ceiling as my phone buzzes once more with a message from Mark's phone.

MARK:
Come and play, Jessica.

I don't know how I find the courage to crawl out of bed but I ignore my pounding heart and my sweaty palms and I tip toe over to the door. Down the hall I can see the dim glow of a cellphone illuminated in the living room.

My phone buzzes one more time.

MARK:
I see you.

I stand frozen in fear for only a moment, my eyes daring to search the darkness of the room for whoever--or whatever--is down there. But deep down I already knew who it is... The one who lives in the shadows of the night. The one who no one sees and yet everyone fears. The one I never believed in as a little girl.

The boogeyman.


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 
One of the things that freaks me out the most? Dangling my foot off the bed. It feels SO GOOD but I will not risk boogeyman attack status.
 
I find the idea of the boogeyman to be so interesting. Literally all over the world, in almost every culture, there is a boogeyman--some nameless, faceless monster that will come and snatch you in the dark of the night. In the Bahamas, they have "small man" who rides a horseless cart, picking up kids who are still playing after dark. The "Ou-wu" is from China and is an old woman who steals children away. Abu Rigl Maslukha or "The Man with the Burnt Leg" is a being from Egypt that kidnaps children and eats them. Iceland has a female troll named Grýla who will eat you on Christmas Eve (she is also Santa Claus's mother) and in Russia, we have Baba Yaga an old woman who kidnaps children and eats them.
 
It's interesting that different people from all over the world with different cultures, beliefs, and traditions would all fear the same thing--a dark entity, hiding in the shadows somewhere, that will come in the night to steal you or your children away.
 
And even what we, as humans, all tend to fear is interesting. Black, sunken in eyes. Razor sharp teeth. Elongated faces. Deathly pale skin. The image in your mind is frightening as it is for most people who would sit and think about such a face. Perhaps it is evolutionarily engrained in our conscience to fear these things. Just as we fear lightning when it could mean fire or our homes burning down not so long ago. We fear violent, wild animals because in our human history that meant our family could be in danger. What about these pale beings with sunken black eyes and razor sharp teeth? What happened to the human race--what did we see--that we would all still naturally fear such a face?
 
Be sure to sleep under the covers tonight... Don't let the boogeyman get you.
 
Only 15 days until Halloween!
 
a.r.w.

Wednesday, October 14, 2015

Pulling

My hair is being pulled by the stars again.
~Anaïs Nin
 
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 
I absolutely love Anais Nin. I think that she has some of the absolute greatest and most beautiful thoughts, ideas, and quotes of all time. She talks of writing, love, life, and the fear of the mundane. If you haven't read anything of hers or heard of her, you need to just go to Goodreads and read her quotes--they will inspire you!
 
One of my hopes with this blog was to recapture that whimsical nature I once had. I've always been a dreamer with my head in the clouds, reaching for the stars, ready to follow my nose. Lately, I've been a bit more timid, afraid of very real world things, and that fanciful world that I always lived in is painted black and frightens me. Slowly but surely, I feel myself painting my world back to the colorful place I've always known it to be.
 
The minute I read this quote, I saw this painting in my head. I wasn't sure if I had the talent to do this painting... The stars and sky I hate but I am actually really proud of the girl's face (yes, shock shock! It's a face of a girl again). I might try to redo the background someday when I get better at this. But overall, I'm really proud of myself and how this painting turned out... I hope it did Anais proud.
 
I'm trying to find the nerve in me to follow where the stars want to take me and with each step I feel like I'm returning to a piece of my old self again. Only time will tell...
 
a.r.w.

Monday, October 12, 2015

Apple Pie

Dorothy cursed as the knife sliced through her finger, crimson red blood dripping down onto the perfectly flattened dough she was about to drape over the cinnamon and chopped apples.

"Apple pie," she hissed between clenched teeth, pushing the brown ringlet from her face, leaving a smear of white flour and red blood along her forehead.

It was her daughter, Bianca's, favorite--stepdaughter, her furious thoughts reminded her--as she tossed the finished pie, complete with her own blood, sweat, and tears, into the oven.

It would be hours until her new husband came home and only minutes until Bianca arrived... she was running out of time.

The house was spotless as always and Dorothy primped her hair, washed the blood from her face, fluffed her tulle petticoat, and straightened the pearls around her neck as she stood before the mirror--the only thing in that damned house to ever give her any attention.

She had married into this family--Richard had worked on the Manhattan Project nearly ten years ago and that had brought him both money and a fine paying job at the local university where he spent all of his time... the remaining time he spent at home with Bianca... Never Dorothy.

The jealousy and rage boiled up inside the housewife as she let out a scream and slammed her fist against the mirror, her twisted face even more distorted in the shards at her feet.

"Dorothy? I'm home!" the twelve year-old's voice called out through the house, making the woman ignore the blood dripping from her knuckles and bottle up her emotions once more--her rage hidden by a sweet smile.

"I'm in the kitchen!" she called out, her voice high pitched.

"Something smells delicious." The beautiful child--the object of Richard's love and affection with her pale white skin, jet black hair, and bright green eyes--entered the kitchen with a smile on her innocent face.

"Your favorite," Dorothy continued as she wiped the blood on a towel, knowing the girl was far too stupid to notice the broken mirror or the blood. With a smile she opened the oven. "Apple pie."

"With cinnamon?"

She kept smiling. "Of course."

Without another word, the girl sat down and began to devour the large slice of pie her stepmother placed on the plate before her.

"Enjoy," Dorothy whispered as she patted her stepdaughter on her head, her fingers tangling in the girl's silky smooth hair.

A moment passed--almost too long for Dorothy's liking--before Bianca hesitated and began to cough.

"Are you alright, dear?"

The fit of coughs continued as Bianca slammed her hand on the table and began gasping for air.

"Bianca?"

The girl tried to stand--to reach out to her stepmother for help--but stumbled as her legs gave out from under her, her body beginning to twitch and shake.

The woman in her pristine and perfect dress, knelt down beside the girl who began to foam at the mouth, her eyes bugging out of her head. "I thought you liked my apple pie," she said, sounding almost heartbroken. "It has cinnamon... just how you like." She paused for a moment, taking the girl's head and placing it into her lap. Stroking her hair, she added with a wicked grin, "Oh! And arsenic."


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 
Today's writing prompt was "apple pie" and I immediately thought of Snow White and her poisoned apple. I decided to give it a 50s twist but still dark and spooky because--hey!--it's almost Halloween!
 
I think the 50s were an interesting time in American history. It was after a world war and it was seen on the outside as a epitome of utopian, ideal Americana. White picket fences, suburbia, and the perfect families where dad goes off to work, the kids go to school, and the mom stays at home keeping herself and the house perfect.
 
But in reality, how ideal, happy, and peaceful was that? I could see people growing tired of perfection and the monotony of every day. And I could see the perfect housewives scheme in their boredom.
 
So here is a twisted take on Snow White and the Evil Queen and the poisoned apple. A 1950s housewife, jealous of her stepdaughter, snaps and gives the girl a poisoned apple pie... only this time, there's no true love to come, kiss her, and wake her up. No happy ending.
 
I think the scariest thing in this world is what a human being is capable of. It's not Freddy or Jason or Michael Myers (though they are terrifyingly awesome). It's not vampires or werewolves or aliens. It's a human being who wears the mask of normalcy but deep down inside they are a monster... A demon hidden behind a perfectly painted face.
 
Only 19 days until Halloween!!
 
a.r.w.

Sunday, October 4, 2015

Pumpkins


we are beautiful
all different shapes and sizes
pumpkins big and small
 
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 
Pumpkins are a lot like people. Some are short and fat. Others are tall and thin. And I love each and every one of them.
 
I finally bought some watercolor paper for the first time yesterday and I've started playing with it. I'm not really familiar with how it absorbs water and paint yet so forgive the slightly messy doodles.
 
I've been wanting to paint some pumpkins for awhile now and I decided to play with orange, yellow, and red. I kind of like the result! Just like my trees from yesterday, they all turned out different. I love it when I can't recreate a doodle--it makes them so special and unique.
 
I've been eying up a pumpkin on my way to work everyday. There is a gang of old ladies that sell produce and they brought out a giant pumpkin.... and I WANT IT.
 
That is one of the things I don't like about living abroad--missing out on all of the autumnal shenanigans. Apple picking, haunted houses, hay rides, corn mazes, apple cider, carving Jack-o-lanterns, pumpkin spice everything, the Swartz Halloween party, and going to the pumpkin patch. This time of year is my absolute favorite but it's also painful when I'm so far from all the fun!
 
I'm hoping to get a pumpkin soon and joining in on the Halloween festivities even from Siberia... 27 days until Halloween!
 
a.r.w.

Thursday, October 1, 2015

Norman


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 
This is Norman the not so distant cousin of Charlie (my someday but probably never tattoo of a whale that will go on my arm/guns... but, again, I'll probably only ever talk about him).
 
I'm still playing with my watercolors and doodling with minimalist pictures and I've found that A). whales are super easy and B). I absolutely adore drawing them. This will probably end up being a series of little colorful whales.
 
I might have drawn this because I have had the song "Whale of a Tale" from 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea stuck in my head.... What a beautiful problem to have...
 
I know since it's October 1st (Huzzah!!), I should have drawn something spooky and scary but LOOK AT THIS FAC?!?! How could I say no to him?
 
a.r.w.

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Memory


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 
Our sense of smell is a very fickle, funny thing. They say it is the sense related the closest to memory and I've always believed that. My perfume "Lovely" by Sarah Jessica Parker always takes me back to the fall of 2007 where I was in a production of Night of the Living Dead. Rose makes me think of my Memoo (my mom's mom). And just over the summer, I found one of my brother's stuffed Stitch toys that was in a tote under his bed--it smelled just like his room did before he got sick; immediately, I was taken back to a simpler time and a happy time (cue the infamous Woomer Water Works).
 
Today, I was suddenly reminded just how powerful the sense of smell is once again.
 
As I was washing my teacup at work, I got a whiff of the dish soap--lemon scented.
 
I was instantly transported back to my gramma's (dad's mom) house. Even though she loved lavender and whenever I think of my gramma, I think of the flower, the smell of lemon dish soap threw me back fifteen years and I loved it.
 
I stood at the sink just smiling like a weirdo as I thought back to the weekends I'd spend with my Gramma Aw at her house. She has always been an inspiration to me in the creative world with my art and writing so it was nice to have a little visit even if it was just in my memories as I was surrounded by my coworkers and a bunch of little kids chattering away in Russian.
 
Over the years, I've learned that a visit is so much more than seeing someone's face or hearing their voice.  A visit can be a dream, a smell, a sudden memory that brings a tear to your eye or a smile to your face. And how much more magical is that?
 
a.r.w.
 
PS: I read online that one of my favorite authors growing up, Lemony Snicket (the creator of A Series of Unfortunate Events), just donated $1 Million to Planned Parenthood... Seems fitting I drew a lemon today! 

Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Strength

 
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 
I've been playing the with watercolors I bought myself a bit and this was my favorite doodle I came up with today.
 
I absolutely adore owls. There is just something about them. I think that they are adorable but at the same time there is something mysterious and spooky about hearing them in the middle of the forest in the darkness of the night.
 
This is a quote that was originally in French: Quand le hibou chante, La nuit est silence. And to me, I think that is so true. There is something powerful in the owl. It is one of the guardians of the forest. They silently watch the trees and the stars, usually silent. But when they call out in a screech, the entire forest freezes in silence, waiting to see what the owl will do.
 
So unsuspecting yet so strong.
 
Because true strength doesn't need to be announced with thrashing arms and trumpets, I find myself wishing I had that silent strength hidden inside the owl.
 
a.r.w.

Sunday, September 27, 2015

Come In


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 
I grew up reading the poems of Shel Silverstein. I have vivid memories of sitting in my school's library in the third grade, reading his books of poetry. This poem called, "Invitation" is in the book Where the Sidewalk Ends and it is my favorite of all of Shel Silverstein's poems (yes, even "The Unicorn").
 
I remember the first time I read this poem, I wanted it hanging in my house someday. It has a whimsical side to it but also a very candid side. Dreamers are welcome, magic bean buyers are welcome... but pray-ers and liars are also welcome. Even as a child, I loved that idea. Everyone is welcome to come in, share, and spend time together... Just as long as they bring a story to share.
 
The more I think about it, the more I think that Shel Silverstein is my favorite poet. I do love Walt Whitman and Sylvia Plath, and W.B. Yeats but there is something special about Shel Silverstein. It could be that he was such a big part of my childhood--so many teachers and librarians shared his poems and drawings with me. It could also be that slightly tilted, whimsical, silly style he has; poetry doesn't have to be refined or wordy to touch you in a special way. I hope that someday my scribbles and doodles can touch other people's hearts and minds just as much as Shel's work touched mine.
 
I hope to practice my watercolors more in the future. I love drawing girl's faces but I want to try little doodles on the more minimalist side like this pineapple. If you have any requests, let me know! I think a pumpkin, an acorn, and a cat are up next on my list of little watercolor doodles. In my head, I'm calling it Scrap Paper Art because I am incapable of finding blank pieces of paper so I'm practicing on the small pieces of paper I can find (mostly with my student's classwork on the back).
 
This little doodle is also a welcome to you. Welcome to this blog. If you are a reader, come in. If you are an artist, come in. If you are a friend, family, or stranger, come in. All are welcome to join the Accord of Dreamers.
 
a.r.w.
 


Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Shine


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 
*GASP!*
 
What do you mean Amanda didn't draw the face of a girl? What is this world coming to? What's that outside your window? Did a pig just fly by? It must be the end of days!
 
I drew a picture of me and Adam (yes, this is supposed to be my husband) but I thought he looked way better than I did, so you only get to see his side of the doodle.
 
This is one of my favorite quotes from Roald Dahl from my favorite of his books The Twits. At the very beginning of his book he says, "A person who has good thoughts cannot ever be ugly. You can have a wonky nose or a crooked mouth and a double chin and stick-out teeth, but if you have good thoughts, they will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely."
 
I remember reading that line as a child and wanting desperately to attain that shine that Mr. Dahl spoke of. For most of my life I made it my mission to be happy, kind to others, and always look on the bright side.
 
Since Jed's passing from Here to There, it's been a lot harder to have good thoughts. I fear that my shine slowly began to fade, shrouded by the sadness and depression I was (and, let's be honest, still am) feeling.
 
It's been up to Adam to keep the good thoughts going. He has been the one to pick me up each time I slip into the darkness, whether he brings home flowers, cooks dinner, makes me laugh, or buys me a new writing desk (EEEEE!!!!!). He's definitely picked up the slack in thinking good thoughts and being happy... because he's doing it for two of us right now.
 
Luckily, sometimes, his good thoughts are so strong and he shines so bright, it makes me smile and shine too. It's been slow, but I am trying to think good thoughts more and more and maybe one day (not so far away), I will shine again.
 
a.r.w.
 
PS: It's now officially fall! Pumpkin spice EVERYTHING.
 
PPS: The only thing better than a beard is a beard made of flowers.

PPPS: I like to throw coffee at my paper. I call it freckled paper! Because nothing in life is perfect--not even white paper.