I used to…
How often can we think of something we used to do?
I find this is especially true as I get older, the past seems closer than the present.
I used to write poetry
And see poetry.
I read a poem emailed to me. Such is the case now http://tinyurl.com/ckho9sv
And sometimes I can say I still
Instead of I used to
Write poetry and See
In the old painting below.
This painting is one of my favorites, I am unsure of why it never sold. Selling or buying art is so personal. Things I don’t necessarily like or do think I executed as well as I might, often sell. Paintings that win awards or those that I even surprise myself, as being able to do, don’t.
But my most favorite paintings seem only to be bought by collectors. So this painting is still waiting for a home.
Or contact me.
I am fascinated by bright colors and/ or what I think of as a lack of color or imagination. It is a blind spot in my life somehow. People enter my home and say I would never do that but it works here. And then of course I wonder, really? Or is that the polite way like someone calling your painting (novel, poem, etc.) “interesting”.
And yet in nature, colors may be as bright we want, or nature has. My garden is filled with color but not the color white.
Is that because I rarely use white as a color except as paper? Or is it that white exists in so many buildings and clouds? And birds have white, but makes have bright colored feet or beaks?!
How about you? Do you like color? Does your home have colors?
As a past Blogger, I now am learning the ins and outs of Word Press. I always find it amusing (not!) that while I am a technology buff and designer, I find some of the oldest systems to be more user friendly. Perhaps this is because in the early 80’s life was not instantaneous. Think about a percolator to Mr. Coffee to Keurig.
So give me some time to learn where my text goes, how to get a picture up, and even more importantly, how to make this blog reflect me.