“Miss Marge’s Cat”

When I took Miss Marge Swenson on our date, we had a conversation. I tried to pawn my last kitten off on her. She said, “At this stage in my life it wouldn’t be fair to bring a cat into my home. I sure do miss having a cat.” She’s 93 and that was a valid, although sad, argument, it was sound of logic.

We talked a bit more and I found out her favorite color is purple. It used to be blue, but for some reason, she explained, it’d changed to purple. I immediately decided to paint her a cat.

When she saw the painting for the first time, she immediately named the purple cat, “Mr. B.” because that was the name of her friend. It absolutely delighted me to see her aglow with joy. I don’t think it gets any better.

In the small painting in the background, I filled that with four other paintings before I stopped myself and asked how I feel when I see Miss Marge. I see her as a breath of fresh air as if I were standing on a mountain on a clear sunny day in the early spring with maybe a suspicion of rain hanging in the air but not enough to feel any kind of muggy. As soon as I thought that, I saw it and painted it.

I liked the squishy flowers because I wanted them to represent the four Sunday’s in a month (sometimes five) when I get to see my Always Beautiful friend, Marge Swenson.

This took me to this, the 5th try, before I got it right in my head.

This took me to this, the 5th try, before I got it right in my head.

The contrasts were some of my favorites. Don't hate on my leaves.

The contrasts were some of my favorites. Don’t hate on my leaves.

I love warms and cools together. It feels rich and lively to me.

I love warms and cools together. It feels rich and lively to me.

Miss Marge will always have comfortable slippers to wear on this stage in life.

Miss Marge will always have comfortable slippers to wear on this stage in life.

Miss Marge's Cat Mare Martell Acrylic on Board 16X20

Miss Marge’s Cat
Mare Martell
Acrylic on Board
16X20

ETPCA Midsummer Festival Fundraiser showcasing variety of art and expressions

ETPCA Midsummer Festival Fundraiser showcasing variety of art and expressions.

Hey check out the link so you can catch me fidgeting all over the place, showcasing my art, and generally being me. (I didn’t get to speak, but I sure wanted to!)

The Month of May I Please

I believe in good things. I believe in great people. I believe that talking to the ceiling and looking to the sky will get anyone through anything (I’m living proof) if they want to see the change happen. (Barring major health issues because I’m not sure how it works with that thank goodness). But I’ve been given something I’ve dreamed about my entire life; Happiness.

During the month of April I participated in a NaPoWriMo via Magaly Guerrero. It was a challenge to complete but I did it and, if I do say so myself, kicked out some pretty decent poems too. Then May rolled around to my front door while I was beset with grief over the loss of my best friend, Gary Buckets.

Gary Buckets

Gary Buckets

Gary Buckets is asleep in the picture, not dead. I wouldn’t do that to you.

Anywho, the month of May rolls in with teary eyes, a feeling of resounding loss that even as I write this hasn’t quite escaped my heart. But, I’ve been artistically on a roll. I’ve just published my first book, broke it up into two other editions (three of them for sale), had art displayed, have art in an auction I take Knoxville Pride in, and have a solo show coming up on June 20th.

The deepest feelings I’ve expressed artistically are something I treasure about myself. I wonder how I got so lucky. I mean, I’m rarely with money in my pocket, but yet I rarely want for anything I need. I have limited mobility, but I’m always where I seem to be needed most. I’m a hard worker, but I’ve had more fun painting, drawing, and experiencing life in full color, full emotion, full on/head on in the month of May, then I’ve a recollection of doing. It’s been an extraordinary bout of love, grief, joy, peace, spirituality, conviviality, writing, poems, and art.

The only thing I did differently in this month was saying Yes to what fills my heart with the most joy. If that means serving, then I’m doing it. If it means transporting, okay. If that means sitting with a friend whose heart hurts, then so be it. I’ve listened to my intuition every day with such great success that I will continue to do so. It works. What’s weirder still, to me anyway, is that not only am I happier, but other people around me seem to find happiness easier too. They seem to take my challenge of “Why not?” seriously and have tried some pretty extraordinary things which, good or bad, have all taught grand lessons of fantastic proportions.

I encourage you, my friends to do the same for thirty days. Follow the bliss that is your heart. The negative voices be damned. You are worth every bit of this joy. I keep saying this, even in a recent post, but it’s true. It really is. The world needs YOU! The YOU that you’re meant to be, not the one you’re told by outside people you SHOULD be. Give it a spin. 30 days. If you can’t commit to that, I’ll show you a quick way to learn to fall madly in love with yourself in three days if you’ll trust me.

May I? Yes, please!

Thirty Something

Okay, so I’ve been working diligently to amass my work for the first display of my art on June 20th. When I was asked to do this, I’d painted this and that, but focused on writing. Having compiled a book of essays, poems, and commentary, I felt satiated enough to move into another genre. I picked up a paintbrush, charcoal, pens, pencils and sheets of fantastica.

From the Unitarian Universalist song, "You got to do when the Spirit says do!"

From the Unitarian Universalist song, “You got to do when the Spirit says do!”

Thirty-One Two pieces later I’m thinking, oh crap! Is this enough? Is this how I’m wishing to be marketed? Is it good enough? Will they like it? Love it? Hate it? Feel ambivalent towards it? Will my art, the creation of my brain from the inspirations that walk over it (like a Jamie Lopez styled painting that just drew itself while I wrote this) satisfy anyone?

You know what? I refuse to care. I wash my hands of the anxieties that are cropping up as the witching hour approaches. This means I’m doing something my mind and body consider to be questionable, dangerous, and that is why I need to do it. Even if I fail (and these thoughts are occurring to me) I’m going to do so with a collective work that glistens with the sweat of my effort. That reflect my love and light into the world in such a way that I feel nearly a sexual satisfaction of bringing these colors to life.

I have to keep reminding myself that I’m doing this for me. Yeah, it’s great if other people take a shine to what I do and even more spectacular when they want to give me money to do what I love. I mean, really. Who wouldn’t want to follow a dream, a hope, an idea all the way down the rabbit hole to see how far it goes? I suppose that’s what makes others comment my oddities to me as if I don’t exist because they’re right. I don’t.

I exist when I allow myself to be consumed by the world where art and breathing are synonymous. I am when I am so engulfed in what I’m doing I forget that I’m human. I become another entity. I love that feeling more as I embrace the whirlwind affair that is dragging me into deeper fields of challenge. But then, I come up for air in this physical world to find people doing what people do.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the people I know. I mean, I REALLY love them. They fill my heart with Rod Stewart songs (“Have I told you lately”) and promises of Moulin Rouge (“Come what may”). My head dances with inspiration from their very existence and I touch the promises of their truth with such delicate breaths that it makes me blush with the intimacy they allow me. It’s not even sexual. It’s like hanging out at someone’s house and everything they do, say, or ask is exactly the most perfect thing they could do, say, or ask of you. And with that, it’s a reciprocation of undulating commentary that ebbs, flows, waxes, wanes, drifts, waves, and hurricanes around in mystical walkways. Each word, phrase, or nothing is vibrant with understanding, love, compassion, and sometimes anger, disappointment, intolerance. Human stuff.

What I describe is not always how it is, it’s just what it’s felt like since I heard the words utter from my lips, “I am an artist.” And so I am.

Tuatha Dea inspired, "Blessed Be, Y'all"

Tuatha Dea inspired, “Blessed Be, Y’all”

Kawphy Nearly Nectar

This is a painting nearly completed. I want to save the finished product for my art show/Fundraising auction on June 20th in Knoxville, TN.

First hint that it isn't buildings as my husband guessed they were.

First hint that it isn’t buildings as my husband guessed they were.

All but the shading and some finishing touches to be made before official display. Kawphy Brewed will be the title when it's completed.

All but the shading and some finishing touches to be made before official display. Kawphy Brewed will be the title when it’s completed.

Art and Mare Martell the Human

I will be doing my first solo art show June 20th at 2627 Sutherland Dr in Knoxville, TN. I’m both intimidated and excited to be doing something I love so much, so dearly. My rapid fire pace of April for writing has slowed a bit, but then again, that was a LOT of posts to get through. For that, I thank you. I’ll also be doing two workshops, one of which will be just plain putting the ART in your heart, the other is Happiness is in your room.

Here are some samples of what I’ll be sharing with the public that day. If I’m not as fluent or prolific of a poster, I hope you’ll bear with me so I can create this dream world I live in with all the beauty it has to offer. Thank you, my friends.

Based on a photo my friend Cass posted.

Based on a photo my friend Cass posted. This is a 30X30 acrylic on board.

Brought in more details, realized the mouth is too close to the nose for my liking, but further realized I'd not adjusted my view. DERP!

Brought in more details, realized the mouth is too close to the nose for my liking, but further realized I’d not adjusted my view. DERP!

Michele Ashbaugh inspired this piece. I added a bit more decolletage to the final picture. (Charcoal on Newsprint)

Michele Ashbaugh inspired this piece. I added a bit more decolletage to the final picture. (16X20 Charcoal on Newsprint)

Catch me in the morning because by afternoon, I'll be Dragon Butt!

Catch me in the morning because by afternoon, I’ll be Dragon Butt! (8X10 framed acrylic on butcher paper)

NaPoWriMo: Flying Out of this World

The Owl and the Jamie Lopez

I was walking through the Otherwhere, picking dreams to put in my pocket

Like a deer in the headlights I stopped frozen in my tracks for there you were.

I’d seen others before in this place I travel to, but never as intensely as that moment.

You smiled, your blue eye flashing a secret code of knowledge to my spirit

I tilted my head perplexed because I’d never tried to talk to the people I found

I usually just witnessed their activities but didn’t interrupt their travels.

But you, you blinked again, your golden eye flashing beneath sunset pink hair.

You gestured gently to pick up what you were trying to share. I couldn’t

You frowned, your sapphire hair obscuring your lemony eyes. Your heart smiled

THEN

You pulled the stitching around the edges of your heart and allowed me to dive

It was mystical and cosmic as you showed me your walking place. I wept, you smiled.

You took my hand and helped me over the threshold, panting with wildness

I could see the owl. The golden dance of blacks, oranges, browns, and wisdom

Refreshed, invigorated with passion. This time I smiled my rainbow smile at you.

Your aqua hair flashed silver fins of water splashing brightly as you disappeared

That moment was exactly when I knew, I could enter different paths. You showed me.

With permission from myself and the others I meet, I can go anywhere I need.

Only in the Otherwhere can I hear the Divine voice of creativity that calls my name intimately.

magalyguerrero.com/napowrimo-with-magaly-guerrero-2015 NaPoWriMo

magalyguerrero.com/napowrimo-with-magaly-guerrero-2015
NaPoWriMo

Professional Writer of Eulogies

I’ve started a business called Pro-WoE.

Pro-WoE was founded to aid distressed families facing the loss of a loved one. The daunting task of memorializing the deceased in a speech can make that absence even more difficult to bear. With compassionate heart, sincere sympathy, and gentle coaxing, Pro-WoE can help you create a memorable speech written for posterity to pass on to the generations so that they too can “know and love” your dear one.

We at Pro-WoE offer customized Eulogies, Life Tributes, Memorial Poems, and Life Story Obituaries that honor the time you and your family shared with your loved one. We thank you for considering Pro-Woe services to help ease the burden of your loss.

In addition, we also offer services to those who have lost a beloved four-legged family member. We feel that any loss should be honored appropriately and strive to give the families a written keepsake that acknowledges the absence.

You can contact me regarding pricing at: +1-877-820-8038 or by email at prowoefounder@gmail.com