...but it looks like there are definite categories in her mind. Not like mine, where everything interacts or is jumbled up together.
challenging your life as if it were a plot
something occasionally surfaces
illusive and without form
it is a space with darkness
a voice in darkness
it is a sound-scape of garble
projected words fading in and out
you have to have a pure heart
you have to expect nothing
it feels like hell
the flow will begin
it’s just biding its time –
thinking what do I want?
it will answer its own needs
free from driven ambition
and I will follow its whim
into the deepest part of the wood
it is the Grand Adventure
it is the sense of having no-path
of two left feet looking for a path
I wrote the above poem by following tangents and free association. Really rather surreal in the end. Hope it gives you some feelings or things to think about. Enjoy!
Here’s a great game to play with kids of all ages (including adults).
You need a dice, some paper, and something to draw with.
Each face of the dice denotes a body part of a bug that you draw.
The winner is the first person to get all the requisite body parts.
Here are the rules we used:
But incase you can’t read them:
- A body or a wing (you need 1 body. Wings are optional.)
- Legs or antennas (you need 6 legs and two antennas)
- Legs or antennas
- Head (you need 1 head, but Hana threw 4 seven times in the picture above so she just kept adding heads and Lenka added three three extra heads on this one below)
5. Eyes (you need two, but don’t let that limit you!)
6. A mouth or a butt (you need at least one mouth).
That's it. But here is a few more of our examples. This one by me. (I had to do at least one in my notebook.)
And one by Hana, who is as nuts as her mother (me).
She must have been throwing a lot of fours, fives, and sixes. She was probably in need of some antennas.
Much hilarity was had by all in this process! And, as you can see, inspiring drawings, too.
Do you have any games like this? Tell me about them in the comments. And what do you think of our bugs?
Not that I get insomnia often. I am very good at sleeping. My mum gave me a great gift when I was about eight. I called to her in the night, 'Mum, I can't sleep.' To which she answered, 'Don't worry about it. Even if you just lie awake all night, you will get enough rest.' It took all the desperation out of getting to sleep. I still think of that, and, even though It's not strictly true, it doesn't matter, I'll drift off eventually. And the soft darkness of night is lovely, a fertile place to think about things.
I once heard a sleep therapist talking about some data. He said that one of the things good sleepers do is not stress about not sleeping. Well no, because they are sleeping! Years ago, I heard that six hours prolongs your life. Some people get by on less. Some people stress if it's not a neat eight hours. I think stress is the big baddie, for sleep and everything else.
Back in puritanical times it was believe that, for the good of the soul, people should do two things a day that they didn't like. I don't know who it was who said, 'I'm ok because I get up in the morning and I go to bed at night.' I'm like that. I don't like giving up on my day, not giving up on my sleep.
How well do you sleep? And what do you think about this strange haiga? Does anyone know who the quote is from? Let me know in the comments.
Not the best looking paintbrushes, but I love them. Perhaps in the easily-bored artist mind, the predictable mark of a perfect brush stroke becomes less desirable. Once you can handle commercial brushes well, it's nice to work with instruments that will afford you a surprise or challenge you. It gives the work vitality. Some of these brushes have done a lot of work. The long-liner forth from the right has painted a very closely cross-hatched and multilayered painting 180 x 120 cm large and whites on white. Some of my favourite work I give to my family. My son has that one.
I have made paintbrushes from my own hair (those dark thick ones are my old dreadlocks) and the hair of dogs and horses, goats and sheep, fibres and feathers. I even took some hair from a dead cat on the street. I once saw a video of a calligraphy master who said the fibre of his favourite brush was the eyelashes of an ostrich. I didn't even know they have eyelashes.
in the spring
of the squirrel-hair brush
a tentative darkness
Do you see what I mean by vitality? You just couldn't do this with a standard brush.