For the Hungry Artist
Upon shoveling out of Jonas today here in Pennsylvania, I’ve done a little research to figure out the most efficient way to shovel. If you want to save your back, take the easy steps below.
1. Listen for doorbell.
2. When doorbell rings, peek out and see if an entrepreneurial teenager is holding a shovel (and/or has a snowblower).
3. Answer door with a $20.00 bill in hand and offer the $20.00 for them to shovel your driveway/walkway.
I like peace, quiet and serenity.
I like things neat, clean and organized.
But…
I don’t learn anything from trying to control my environment to always be in a peaceful/quiet/organized state.
Life is messy. Business is messy. Relationships are messy.
So what’s the alternative to the messy/difficult/stretching? Wallpaper.
Wallpaper keeps things looking nice…but that’s about it.
That’s not the life I want, the business I want or the relationships I want.
I’d rather be sandpaper. Sandpaper stirs, smooths, roughs, changes and reinvents.
Missing something?
If someone crept into my home and stole something I loved, I’d not just want the stolen item back, I’d want to know…
As artists we can sometimes get discouraged and that discouragement can lead to procrastination, apathy and blocks that hinder our creativity.
In other words, discouragement robs us from creating, and consequently robs us of enriching the lives of others with our creativity. The result is that we may feel numb, uninspired and blocked–a victim of a discouragement robbery.
The antidote is simple, but not easy: ask a few basic questions… Continue reading “The Silent Thief that Steals Your Creativity”
Today’s post, Artist’s Seven Deadly Sins, is a guest post of mine found at Jim Wood’s site. Head on over there for the post an other great creative inspiration!
I live in Amish country: Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.
When you visit you’ll find:
I’ve yet to meet Smucker in person, but after reading his new book Building a Life Out of Words
It’s exciting to see the creative community on this site continue to grow.
The citizenry includes vibrant designers, inspiring pastors, financial coaches, imaginative writers, creative moms, blogging gurus, prolific producers, gifted graphic artists, and many more that we don’t know anything about.
But that’s about to change.
Continue reading “Creative Community: 2 Questions, 2 Minutes, 1 Comment”
Time:
January 13, 2012
Setting:
Costa Concordia, Island of Giglio, Italy
(the setting could also be ‘your mind’)
Cast:
Coast Guard: Captain Gregorio De Falco
(think of De Falco as ‘your coach’)
Ship Captain: Captain Francesco Schettino
(think of Schettino as ‘reasoning’)
***
De Falco: “This is De Falco from Livorno. Am I speaking with the captain?”
Schettino: “Yes. Good evening, Cmdr. De Falco.”
Continue reading “Creativity and the Costa Concordia: Get on the Ship”
In order to avoid that terribly rude checked baggage fee, you’ve got to free up the extra space in that backpack/suitcase/mammoth-purse you’ve used for the past six to twelve months.
In my making-space-session a few items of note…
+Two cans of V8.
+Terribly stale gum.
+A key.
+Underwear.
I love Thanksgiving to pieces. To absolute pieces.
“Who wouldn’t love Thanksgiving?” I pondered. Apparently, there are a few out there.
A quick Googling (not ogling) revealed the haters. Here’s a quick compilation of some their complaints.
At times I want this blog to be notable. Regal. Intellectual. Thought provoking.
But that can also be boring. Hence, the reason every Friday post blends in a little humor, and today’s shares an extra dash of embarrassing quirks from childhood. Quirks volume one here.
+Earthworms. After it rained and the earthworms littered the ground, I’d don my rollerskates and ‘save’ them, tossing them back into the soaked earth from which they sought to escape. I don’t do this anymore. OK, maybe I did once or twice in the last year.
+Hot Dogs. I didn’t eat hot dogs for about five years durning my elementary school days as I’d been told they were made of earthworms. I save earthworms, not eat them = childhood logic.
+I Pledged Allegiance to a Christmas Tree. Real Christmas trees always adorned our home, but one year it grew, even in it’s little tree stand. It actually got taller. I felt badly that the poor guy would be tossed into our woods behind the woodpile. It was growing, after all. So what makes a Christmas tree feel better? Singing to it. Christmas carols. I promised the tree that I’d never forget all it had done for us. The odd ritual only lasted a week or so, but that tree died a slow death while being saranaded by a nine-year-old. Kinda like The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstien. Only not really.
+Inappropriate Nicknames. As a kid, I often went for the laugh in most circumstances. Still do. I think I was simply going for the laugh when I called my third grade art teacher a prostitute. Something like ‘oh yeah, we’ll you’re just a prostitute.’ Hmmmm. I’d never been removed from a classroom faster than I was on that day. I honestly had no idea what a prostitue was, though I imagine when I first heard the word used by others, their audience laughed so I thought I’d give it a try. Bad idea.
There’s more. Oh, yes, there’s plenty more. But that’s a start and you can read quirks volume one here.
In the meantime, please tell me I’m not alone. What kinds of crazy did you do when you were a kiddo? Leave a reply below so we can all get a chuckle…
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