Tag: writing

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The Village - Artwork

Trust with a capital “T”

The Story

An American business man was vacationing in a small coastal fishing village. One morning he stood on the pier and watched as a small boat docked. Inside the boat was one fisherman with several large yellowfin tuna. He complimented the man on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.

“Only a little while,” the fisherman said.

“Why don’t you stay out longer and catch more fish?”  The business man asked.

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Art: Perspectives

Perspectives on Possibilities

I’ve had some cool insights and exciting ideas while thinking about the Alphabet Game, and I must say that the letter “P” has been one of the most enlightening thus far.

BUT… I have to back up and talk about the “M” word first… Memories. I realize now that some things really ARE worth forgetting—mainly things that I learned (or absorbed into my unconscious) when I was younger.

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M is for…

One of my best friends from high school remembers everything. Whenever we talk, she reminisces about our old shenanigans as if they happened yesterday. Things that we did decades ago; things I’ve long since forgotten.

Last year, I (briefly) dated a man who reminded me of her. Our conversations were like time travel; we’d always end up in the 70’s or 80’s! Sometimes I wondered why the two of them weren’t dating. They both had this weird connection to the past—as if that past still existed.

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Knowledge is Personal

Knowledge rests not upon truth alone, but upon error also.

Carl Jung

—A personal journey through the “K” word.

I think the old bumper car is kicking into overdrive. My journey through education is making more and more sense, as the fragments of information—that I’ve learned in various classes—are beginning to connect. The ‘bigger picture’ is coming into focus, and I could not be more excited!

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Contentment

“Now and then it’s good to pause in our pursuit of happiness and just be happy.”

Guillaume Apollinaire

I’m on the letter “C” today and this quote is perfect. I’m starting with a word that I’m not necessarily a fan of, but I won’t make a habit of that.

Contradiction: a combination of statements, ideas, or features of a situation that are opposed to one another.

Sometimes a professor will say something that totally contradicts what another professor said. That’s confusing, and sometimes annoying, but that’s not why I brought it up.

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The Alphabet Game

I thought it would be fun to do a new series while I’m on my “time out.”

I realize that sounds a bit paradoxical, but I’ve had a long weekend—with plenty of time to ponder the idea. After posting the little things, I was amazed at how it affected me. Taking the time to think about the things you love (or are grateful for) really does change how you feel.

That being said, I’m going to attempt an ongoing series about the things that I love… moving slowly (but swiftly) from A to Z, and I’m calling it The Alphabet Game. Feel free to join in anytime and add your own. Here goes the first letter:

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The Excursion

This morning I drove into Pasadena. It wasn’t a major excursion, but it was in the opposite direction of where I normally travel and everything was unfamiliar. I wish I had taken my camera. It’s the perfect place for street photography, but it was just TOO hot! I wanted to get in—and get out.

I went there to pick up the kit for my drawing class. I’m already enjoying the course. It’s not so much that I’ve learned anything yet (it’s only been two days), or that I even see the possibility of getting really good at it. It’s the fact that I’m putting aside my fear, putting the pencil to the pad, and making an effort.

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the little things

I love…

  • morning coffee
  • to tinker; a little bit of this and a little bit of that
  • thunder and lightning, especially when I’m enjoying coffee and tinkering
  • the sound of rain on a tin roof
  • rainbows and butterflies
  • the way my body feels after doing something strenuous (rare, but happens)
  • swimming in cool waters
  • when the sky explodes into colors (missing Colorado)
  • road trips—I’ll get out there again, eventually
  • walking on sand
  • the ocean
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On the Edge

I think the definition of artist is a bit enigmatic. I’ve never called myself an artist. I’ve said things like “this is some art I created,” or “I love to create art,” but that’s as far as it goes. I think the first explanation that pops into my head is the fact that I don’t use pencils, pens, or even brushes (although that may change after the new semester).

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Living the Dream

Chaotic workday— a scuffle with friends,

Five o’clock traffic— the stress never ends,

Pressure to do well— fearing failure, too,

Stuck in a pattern— afraid of what’s new,

Plan for retirement— look forward to rest,

Where children once played— is now empty nest,

Dating disasters— a marriage from hell,

Lack of investments— there’s nothing to sell,

No regrets linger— My head’s not for rent,

All of these moments— are evanescent,

March forward, full steam— toward what is unseen,

Faith is eternal— I’m living the dream.