The word ‘art’ usually invokes images of paintings, drawings, or maybe woven tapestries from a different time. Or maybe the word ‘art’ brings a favorite story to mind, or a famous poem, or sculpture. But art is so much more than those things, and lives in so many places.
The hands of come in all shades, sizes, and from all places. They stir cooking pots, pull stitches through fabric, and yes, weld iron beams into place.
I am much more of a night owl than a morning bird. I love the quiet whined down after a long loud day. Because of that, I have only caught a very few sunrises, yet, they are a miracle that happens every day.
What beauty have you been missing out on? Why?
I think it’s okay to be a night owl, and now catch every sunrise, as long as I remember it still happens, and it’s a gift.
Sometimes I feel like an overturned cup of confetti… Until I remember cups are for holding liquid, not everyone else’s bits and pieces. Confetti wants to be thrown around, shared, and bring colour to the world.
Remember, it’s okay to throw those bits around, as long as you clean up after the party is over.
Trees are more like people than we often think. They hide so much beneath the ground, just like humans hid part of themselves behind pretending.
Beauty, intricate personalities, strangeness, connectivity, how we and they reach out for each other.
It’s often not until something unwanted, something uncomfortable happens and washes away the dirt, that we get a glimpse of what a person is really like. Sometimes, it’s not pretty. Other times, it reveals amazing things.
Not all buried things are bad or ugly. Even when beautiful there are things that need to STAY burred to grow properly, other things need to be protected for a.
But then, after growth, they need to be pulled up, and out, before we can use them.
I wonder what carrots think when they are harvested?
There is something about the color orange.
It inspires and glows. It’s joy to pull orange things out of the dirt, and pluck them from a branch.