Maryanne Mesple's Posts - world of wiffledust2024-03-28T14:35:05ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesplehttp://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/365323864?profile=RESIZE_48X48&width=48&height=48&crop=1%3A1http://worldofwiffledust.com/profiles/blog/feed?user=2571gq6s79zf9&xn_auth=noI Live (haiku)tag:worldofwiffledust.com,2013-03-22:2870411:BlogPost:1090572013-03-22T02:39:26.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
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<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="font-size-4" style="font-family: impact,chicago;">I scream to hear life</span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="font-size-4" style="font-family: impact,chicago;">Thunder clashes in the heart…</span></p>
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<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: impact,chicago;" class="font-size-4">I scream to hear life</span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: impact,chicago;" class="font-size-4">Thunder clashes in the heart</span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: impact,chicago;" class="font-size-4">I cling tight and live</span></p>
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<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" class="font-size-2">(Haiku)</span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"></p>The Great Gourd Giveaway ~ Gourd # 4tag:worldofwiffledust.com,2013-02-21:2870411:BlogPost:1072352013-02-21T21:57:25.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="font-size-4">When someone smiles at me I am no longer the master of my face because my heart takes control and I smile back without even thinking! I believe smiles are the currency of the heart and I always feel blessed when I receive those beautiful heartfelt deposits. When I began the journey of creating 5 gourd vessels to be given away I never anticipated…</span></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="font-size-4">When someone smiles at me I am no longer the master of my face because my heart takes control and I smile back without even thinking! I believe smiles are the currency of the heart and I always feel blessed when I receive those beautiful heartfelt deposits. When I began the journey of creating 5 gourd vessels to be given away I never anticipated that I would be the recipient of so much joy and as the photo below shows, my heart's bank account is overflowing because of beautiful souls and their gifts to me. Gifts of smiles.</span></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="font-size-4">Unfortunately gourds don't clean themselves. As gourds cure over months and months of drying time mold grows on their skin before the gourd dries out and it is the dried mold on the gourds skin that needs to be removed. How I clean my gourds today is so different from when I first started working with gourds. All I will say is that I made a huge chore out of a very simple process. Thank goodness I came to my senses and let myself discover that a little water, a stainless steel scrubby, and some elbow grease can clean up a medium sized gourd in a very short amount of time.</span></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="font-size-4">What a difference in the gourd's appearance once all the mold is scrubbed off! While I am scrubbing on the gourd I get acquainted with the gourds surface. Each gourd is unique and out of the same crop no two will ever be alike in size, thickness, texture, etc. I have been working with gourds since 2000 and over the course of 13 years I have developed what I call gourd sense. My gourd sense tells me a lot about the gourd including that I can pretty much predict how thick the shell will be. Also during the cleaning process it is a time of discovery. I discover cracks, pits, warts, and stains all of which impact the design, the burning, and the paint.</span></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="font-size-4">Gourds are so crazy wonderful! In the above picture gourd # 4 is receiving its design. I have decided to make a bowl which is not unique. What makes my gourd bowls unique is that no two are ever alike because I create a new composition for each gourd I work with. When I first touched this gourd I thought that I would be channeling Lalique because I kept seeing Lalique style patterns in my mind's eye. When it came time to actually draw on the gourd everything changed! Still inspired by Art Nouveau the design I began to see was less Lalique and more me! My husband had recently gifted me with a beautiful Art Nouveau stylized tray with the most beautiful leaves and those leaves came to life in my head and just would not stop dancing around until I transferred them onto the gourd.</span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-4">Cutting the top off a gourd can be tricky, and even more tricky when the path the jigsaw is to follow is a curvy one! Before any jigsawing can begin it is necessary to pierce the gourd's body with an awl. The size of the awl is important because the hole created by the awl needs to accommodate my micro jigsaw blade. Once the blade is inserted then the fun begins! The challenge is to retrace the drawn design with an oscillating saw and not accidentally lop off a leaves lobe! With the top successfully removed the gourd can then be cleaned out. Cleaning the inside of a gourd involves the removal of the seeds and the ribs that hold the seeds. Once that is done then I scrape out the gourds remaining contents until I reach the inner wall and then the inner walls need to be scraped until they are as smooth as possible. For detailing the edges I use metal files. Cleaning the inside of a gourd is a very messy job but with the right music playing it is an enjoyable experience!</span></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="font-size-4"> In the photo above you can see the irregular cut that follows the flow of the leaves and also you can see just how thick a gourd can be! The thicker the gourd's shell is the better.</span></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="font-size-4">If you have not noticed, I love working on my gourds! I love creating unique pieces and if I can create something that makes the bowl uniquely a particular person's it makes the process all the more enjoyable. On this bowl, I have part of a poem partially hidden by the bowl's leaves. The poem I borrowed a line from is one by Rumi and the stanza behind the leaves reads; The garden of love is green without limit. I felt the verse went well with the leaf design and reflected the bowl's future owner's heart.</span></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mzOO_8Ndgt8/USBAclXFXEI/AAAAAAAACU8/en_wg70bxv4/s1600/pb8.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mzOO_8Ndgt8/USBAclXFXEI/AAAAAAAACU8/en_wg70bxv4/s320/pb8.jpg" border="0" height="253" width="320"/></a></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="font-size-4">Sometimes I enlist the assistance of my husband to help me with my gourds. When I do ask for his help it is only when I have other obligations that take me away from my work on my gourds. My husband is always happy to help me and how lucky am I that my husband just happens to be an Art Professor! So, after I completed all the burns on this gourd my husband lent his expertise and helped with the painting ... while I chased a 3 year old grandson around the yard!</span></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="font-size-4">Another view showing the words of Rumi peeking out from under the leaves. The gourd is now ready for the inside to be painted and then to be sealed. This particular gourd has a 1000 + mile journey ahead. I believe this gourd bowl turned out beautifully! Yes, I am proud of this gourd and as the first picture in this blog showed, the recipient was very pleased with the gourd bowl too.</span></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DT1YSKx0xVA/USBA24DrDuI/AAAAAAAACVM/q8RbD5Q05F4/s1600/pb18.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DT1YSKx0xVA/USBA24DrDuI/AAAAAAAACVM/q8RbD5Q05F4/s320/pb18.jpg" border="0" height="263" width="320"/></a></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="font-size-4">One last picture before packing up the bowl for its trip across country to its new home. One last gourd to do, and the Great Gourd Giveaway will be fulfilled and my heart bank will be full of smiles. How lucky am I? Very lucky.</span></p>
<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="font-size-4">Now, for gourd # 5.</span></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><font size="1">all <font size="1">photos in th<font size="1">is blog <font size="1">were taken by and owned by Maryanne Mes<font size="1">pl<font size="1">é </font></font></font></font></font></font></p>Burning My Innocencetag:worldofwiffledust.com,2013-02-16:2870411:BlogPost:1069952013-02-16T07:57:11.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
<p><font class="userContent"><br></br> <br></br> <span class="font-size-3"><font face="Verdana,sans-serif"><font size="3">Have you ever seen the KKK burn a cross with the intention of deliberately scaring people? <font class="text_exposed_show">Have you ever seen men with white hoods covering their faces? I have. Have you ever heard men wearing white hoods yelling obscenities about ( insert N word pluralized) and threatening to kill said person because of the color of their skin? I have. Have you ever…</font></font></font></span></font></p>
<p><font class="userContent"><br/> <br/> <span class="font-size-3"><font face="Verdana,sans-serif"><font size="3">Have you ever seen the KKK burn a cross with the intention of deliberately scaring people? <font class="text_exposed_show">Have you ever seen men with white hoods covering their faces? I have. Have you ever heard men wearing white hoods yelling obscenities about ( insert N word pluralized) and threatening to kill said person because of the color of their skin? I have. Have you ever seen a cross, sitting next to gas tanks, torched by men wearing white hoods in hopes of causing an explosion that would destroy structures and people in those structures? I have.</font></font></font></span></font></p>
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<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font class="userContent"><font face="Verdana,sans-serif"><font size="3"><font class="text_exposed_show"> <font size="1">(photo found on Google no credit given)</font></font></font></font></font></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-3"><font face="Verdana,sans-serif"><font size="3"><font class="userContent"><font class="text_exposed_show">And here is my story.</font></font></font></font></span></p>
<p><span class="font-size-3"><font face="Verdana,sans-serif"><font size="3"><font class="userContent"><font class="text_exposed_show"><br/> Living in Alabama was magical. While living in Alabama I lived in several places in a very short amount of time. I lived in Mobil and Honorville and Montgomery. I visited Greenville a lot, and my family before the divorce lived on Maxwell/Gunter AFB. It was right after my parent’s divorce that life really became interesting beyond what some people would have considered interesting already. My life became more interesting because of all the characters that began to populate my life along with all the dramas that those characters traveled with.<br/> As a young child do you remember how an hour could feel like a day? And a day could contain enough adventure to fill an entire year of an adult’s life? My life was like that. I lived my days filled with Huck Finn type adventure in the backwoods populated with all the characters the backwoods of Alabama can hold, and I lived *Scout Finch types of adventures around the 331 Roadhouse. <font size="3">The 331 Roadhouse was owned for a<font size="3">n instant in this life by my mom, <font size="3">Ellie and the 331 sat alon<font size="3">gside HWY 331 <font size="3">in Alabama. While living at the Roadhouse</font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font> I gathered in my little head enough memories to last my lifetime and your lifetime, hahaha! Memory collecting was part of my magical child experience. Another part of my magical child’s life was I observed all life through the lens of innocence. (Didn’t we all?).</span><br/> <span class="font-size-3">My lens of innocence was burned when I witnessed a horrific event that caused within me a fear I had never known before and I begin to see that not all people were nice; I began to see people like fractured pieces of glass that made it hard to know the whole person.</span> <br/> <br/> <span class="font-size-3">One beautiful night in <font size="3">the early</font> spring of 1961 the 331 was hopping to great sounds of music and ladies and their gents were waxing their shoes as they slid into and out of their dance moves across the Roadhouse’s waxed dance floor. Being a place where one could legally buy alcohol it was not uncommon for there to be at least one person who could not hold their drink. This particular night that one person was an Officer’s wife from Montgomery AL and she did not want to drive her car; being that she was a bit tipsy. This lady, not versed in the ways of the Deep South thought she would ask for a ride home. This drunken lady leaned over the food counter and yelled at the Roadhouse cook<font size="3">, asking</font> if he could drive her home when he was done with his work. Oh my.</span><br/> <span class="font-size-3">Remember this is Alabama. This happened in 1961. The lady was asking “a man of color” she was asking a man who was referred to as “N” to give her, a “white” lady a ride home where they would be alone in a car together. No No No No.</span><br/> <br/> <span class="font-size-3">The cook came to my mom and told her what had happened and told my mom that he was scared and wanted to slip out the back and go home to his family to protect them and himself if needed. My mom agreed, not really understanding the gravity of the situation, she went back to work tending to the fry cook position herself. There was an ABC Board man in the Roadhouse that evening, because he was one of my mom’s good friends. E<font size="3">d</font> was the ABC Board man’s name. Ed called for back up because he had a feeling and sure enough, Ed was right. Ed suggested to my mom that she make sure her children were not in the restaurant. Mom came to the back where the “Coloreds” were served <font size="3">because it was in "the back" that</font> my sister and I hung out<font size="3">. My mom told us to go to the cabin. Now.</font> We did so quickly because we could sense the anxiety in her voice.</span></p>
<p><span class="font-size-3"><font face="Verdana,sans-serif"><font size="3"><font class="userContent"><font class="text_exposed_show"><br/> Within an hour there were screeching tires and revving engines with several vehicles surrounding the 331 Roadhouse. In those vehicles there were men with their heads covered with white sacks and those men were yelling and shouting awful obscenities. People were scattering everywhere as we watched from the cabin. Several of those hooded men got out of their trucks and erected a cross right next to the gas tanks and set it on fire. Lucky for us, and many other people Ed from the ABC Board ran out and began yelling that other ABC officers were on the way and the hooded men, yelling back, got in their cars and trucks and sped away. Ed put out the burning cross and it felt like there was no air for any of us to breathe!</font></font></font></font></span></p>
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<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font face="Verdana,sans-serif"><font size="3"><font class="userContent"><font class="text_exposed_show"> <font size="1">(Google image no credit found)</font></font></font></font></font></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-3"><font face="Verdana,sans-serif"><font size="3"><font class="userContent"><font class="text_exposed_show">My mom came to the cabin to check on us and took us back to the Roadhouse with her for a bit to keep and eye on us while she and others cleaned up <font size="3">which included taking dow<font size="3">n</font></font> the partially burned cross <font size="3">in addition to ga<font size="3">thering</font></font> what was left of any nerve they may have had. I was filled with confusion and fear and a huge lack of understanding. I could not understand why anyone would want to burn Jesus’ cross. I could not understand why anyone would want to dress up like it was Halloween and scare my mom and other people. None of anything I saw or thought I saw made any sense and you know what? To this day, none of what happened that night makes sense for there never was any sense used. That night opened up a window I had never look<font size="3">ed</font> through and that was the window into a world where people could be deliberately hateful and harmful to people based on nothing but the color of skin. I began to worry about my moles because my moles where the same color as my friends who used the back entrance of the Roadhouse. My moles were the same color as my friends who played in the backwoods with me. I lived a life of fear after that. Fear that at any moment someone could take something good away and make it bad.<br/> Life was a bit different around the Roadhouse after that night. The ABC officers posted someone there everyday for awhile because of what had happened and also <font size="3">because</font> the Freedom Riders were on their way to Montgomery and beyond and you know the commotion the Freedom Riders cause<font size="3">d. They caused a</font> commotion that I am grateful for because of their bravery and the bravery of many souls our world changed a bit. The world needed to change from the world I witnessed to a world where a person is accepted for <font size="3">the</font> simply <font size="3">fact that they are</font> human and that has nothing to do with the color of skin. <br/> <br/> *Scout Finch from To Kill A Mockingbird<br/> <br/> And as a side note ~ My older sister who was with me that night married one of the KKK member’s sons.</font></font></font></font></span></p>The Great Gourd Giveaway ~ Gourd # 3tag:worldofwiffledust.com,2013-02-15:2870411:BlogPost:1068722013-02-15T22:25:29.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
<p> <span class="font-size-3">For my third gourd gifting adventure I did not have to look far for a particular gourd that was to embody my creativity. Nope, I did not need to look far because when I cut the top off the gourd I used for my second gourd gifting I set that gourd's neck next to my violets waiting to be planted. That is when I saw a flower vase gourd! So, I picked up the gourd top, spun it around trying to figure out just how to craft it into a flower holding vessel when the…</span></p>
<p> <span class="font-size-3">For my third gourd gifting adventure I did not have to look far for a particular gourd that was to embody my creativity. Nope, I did not need to look far because when I cut the top off the gourd I used for my second gourd gifting I set that gourd's neck next to my violets waiting to be planted. That is when I saw a flower vase gourd! So, I picked up the gourd top, spun it around trying to figure out just how to craft it into a flower holding vessel when the thought came to me to drill a hole and make a vase that would hang from twine or copper wire! I drilled the hole and my vision was confirmed! </span></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9sET6AZ87JE/URaDKUKPFcI/AAAAAAAACSk/haSJLc0Mwc0/s1600/emilygourd1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9sET6AZ87JE/URaDKUKPFcI/AAAAAAAACSk/haSJLc0Mwc0/s320/emilygourd1.jpg" border="0" height="320" width="258"/></a></p>
<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><font size="1">Photo by Maryanne Mesplé EW gourd</font></p>
<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> <font size="1"> <span class="font-size-3"><font size="3"> I recreated the accidental and perhaps subconsciously intentional setting that inspired me <font size="3">so you can see how it was actually hard to not see the next gourd pro<font size="3">ject! </font></font> I kept my little gourd top near me <font size="3">as I finished the moon bowl; mentally</font> working on an image that would grace the</font></span></font> <span class="font-size-3"><font size="1"><font size="3"><font size="3">gourd vess<font size="3">el.</font></font></font></font> <font size="1"><font size="3">O<font size="3">nce I was of<font size="3">ficially</font> done with the moon I paused for a day <font size="3">to cle<font size="3">an up <font size="3">my work area<font size="3">. I am happier and more producti<font size="3">ve in a clean and organized work space. <font size="3">All refreshed <font size="3">and with a clean environm<font size="3">ent around me I</font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font> then picked up a pencil and the gourd top<font size="3">. <font size="3">Taking in a d</font>eep breath <font size="3">I then</font></font> let the new de<font size="3">sign</font> flow like water from my fingers onto the vase and within 20 minutes I was already ready to burn! I love it when stuff just happens! <font size="3">Once I </font> began the physical transformation of the gourd top I <font size="3">already</font> knew what this piece was going to look like when done.</span></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9NrXYL3sV50/URaH62EfTzI/AAAAAAAACTI/UBXdl4Vmwtw/s1600/P4150002.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9NrXYL3sV50/URaH62EfTzI/AAAAAAAACTI/UBXdl4Vmwtw/s320/P4150002.JPG" border="0" height="320" width="226"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p> <font size="1">Photo by Maryanne Mesplé EW gourd</font></p>
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<p><font size="3"> <span class="font-size-3">I have a passion for drawing</span> <font size="3"><span class="font-size-3">intricat</span><font size="3"><span class="font-size-3">ely woven branches and vines and</span> <font size="3"><span class="font-size-3">sometimes just unending pathways of intersecting lines. For this gourd piece my starting place was the top</span> <font size="3"><span class="font-size-3">of the gourd neck that is now the bottom of the container :-) I then let my pencil just go and</span> <font size="3"><span class="font-size-3">weave lines under and over and through creating <font size="3">a <font size="3">network of vines weaving themselves around the gourd.</font></font></span> <font size="3"><br/></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JcGdUD0QCNw/URaH8RDSpLI/AAAAAAAACTY/bV5bVhoP6UQ/s1600/P4150004.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JcGdUD0QCNw/URaH8RDSpLI/AAAAAAAACTY/bV5bVhoP6UQ/s320/P4150004.JPG" border="0" height="320" width="230"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p> <font size="1">Photo by Maryanne Mesplé EW gourd</font></p>
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<p> <span class="font-size-3">In my enthusiasm on the day that I drew out the design and burned it into the gourd I completely forgot to capture the burning process via photographs! Oh darn, but then that is perfectly natural to get all caught up in fun.</span></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5w3IIksXMAY/URaC70yCcJI/AAAAAAAACRw/rTGFFP48iUE/s1600/P7030408.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5w3IIksXMAY/URaC70yCcJI/AAAAAAAACRw/rTGFFP48iUE/s320/P7030408.JPG" border="0" height="320" width="208"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">Photo by Maryanne Mesplé EW gourd</font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p><font size="3"> <span class="font-size-3">This image and the the images below show the gourd vase com<font size="3">pleted. Painted, and sealed, <font size="3">the gourd is ready to ship</font>! I tested the inside of the gourd for its ability to h<font size="3">old water and the vase <font size="3">passed the test<font size="3">! I hope that as time goes by having water on the inside does not make <font size="3">the paint on the outside bubble and peel off but that is w<font size="3">hat I cannot know before creating something li<font size="3">ke this vase. The only way I will know if the paint <font size="3">on the outside of the vase</font> i<font size="3">s <font size="3">adversely impacted by water from the inside</font></font> is if the new owner reports on the life of their new object :-) <font size="3">Below is a series of photos showing the completed gourd and the differing sides of the vase.</font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></span></font></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ShjJyNC_szk/URaDDNNC9CI/AAAAAAAACSM/dt1M4iTQ4PI/s1600/P7030410.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ShjJyNC_szk/URaDDNNC9CI/AAAAAAAACSM/dt1M4iTQ4PI/s320/P7030410.JPG" border="0" height="320" width="240"/></a></p>
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<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">Photo by Maryanne Mesplé EW gourd</font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p> <span class="font-size-3">I have to admit that the placement of the gourd vase is visually funny! If you will look at the vessels mouth you will see that it appears as if the woman in the piece of art on the wall is perched atop the gourd and pointing or reaching inside! How funny! I liked it so much I left it!</span></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p><font size="1"><font size="1"><font size="1"><font size="1"> <span class="font-size-3"><font size="3">I love looking at my finished pieces. I do. I love the thought that my gourds will make someone happy and that mak<font size="3">es the wh<font size="3">ole adventure so worth <font size="3">every minute<font size="3">. <font size="3">And now, you already know if you have been following my Great Gourd Giveaway that I have already been working in my head on gourd number 4 <font size="3">.. yep, I have!</font></font></font></font></font></font></font></span></font></font></font></font></p>
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</div>My Great Gourd Giveaway ~ Gourd # 2tag:worldofwiffledust.com,2013-02-08:2870411:BlogPost:1069322013-02-08T05:18:02.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
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<p><font size="3"> Outside of art classes in high school I've never faced a deadline for completion of any of my artsy or crafty adventures. Like many artist (dare I call myself an artist?), but anyway, like many artist I work at my own pace which can at times be no pace at all for long periods of time. Obligating myself to 5 people with a promise to create something homemade for them was the best creative boost…</font></p>
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<p><font size="3"> Outside of art classes in high school I've never faced a deadline for completion of any of my artsy or crafty adventures. Like many artist (dare I call myself an artist?), but anyway, like many artist I work at my own pace which can at times be no pace at all for long periods of time. Obligating myself to 5 people with a promise to create something homemade for them was the best creative boost I've ever experienced! I unleashed my creative bug and before finishing the first gourd in the Great Gourd Giveaway I was already working on the next gourd in my head!</font></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8-BnD4GzhYM/UQxjeh-yA5I/AAAAAAAACPk/bPI-CJb2wLQ/s1600/Joliegourd1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8-BnD4GzhYM/UQxjeh-yA5I/AAAAAAAACPk/bPI-CJb2wLQ/s320/Joliegourd1.jpg" border="0" height="320" width="301"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">Photo by Maryan<font size="1">ne Mespl<font size="1">é JB gourd</font></font></font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p><font size="1"><font size="1"><font size="1"><font size="3"> Working on a gourd in my head first involves <font size="3">staring at the gourd. Yep<font size="3">, I <font size="3">fill up my eyes with long stares of the <font size="3">gourd in waiting</font></font></font>. I also get a physical feel for the gourd. Each gourd has a unique texture and thickness <font size="3">which will influence all the work done on it so I run my fingers all around the gourd getting to know its <font size="3">texture</font>.</font> <font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3">As I <font size="3">put the last dabs of paint and sealer onto the gourd I am finishing, the next gourd is</font></font> close by <font size="3">whispering <font size="3"><font size="3">images into the air that I breat<font size="3">he in and digest.</font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font> <font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3">The gourd in the photo above is cleaned up and now awaits m<font size="3">y next <font size="3">encounter with it which will involve a <font size="3">pencil.</font></font></font></font></font></font></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Zk2vHqFxs3U/UQxjh-3apaI/AAAAAAAACP0/IMBsNnephXw/s1600/joliegourd2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Zk2vHqFxs3U/UQxjh-3apaI/AAAAAAAACP0/IMBsNnephXw/s320/joliegourd2.jpg" border="0" height="320" width="240"/></a></p>
<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><font size="1">Photo by Maryanne Mesplé JB gourd</font></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><font size="3"> </font> When I know a little bit about the gourd's soon to be owner I use that information in guiding my ideas. I will ask about favorite colors and plants and places and poets to open up a path of communication. It is in the communication that I often get my inspiration but that inspiration is not from knowing someone's favorite color is purple or green but rather the inspiration flows in how the information exchange happens. You can get to know a lot about a person in how they talk about themselves more than what they say about themselves. The photo above shows the image that was persistent in my head each time I touched the gourd and or talked with JB. The gourd was to be a moon gourd! I love the moon :-) The moon is an iconic symbol that is loved by many people, revered by many cultures, and our Earth's moon is loved and honored by the owner of this beauty, so I was not surprised when I kept seeing a moon when I touched the gourd and hearing the words La Luna.</p>
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<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">Photo by Maryanne Mesplé JB gourd</font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p> You can see where I have sketched out the basic moon shape and will do more detailed work once I have cut the top off the gourd.</p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_O0VPflhzug/UQxjoaVkwgI/AAAAAAAACQM/asyYnPFGgf8/s1600/joliegourd5.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_O0VPflhzug/UQxjoaVkwgI/AAAAAAAACQM/asyYnPFGgf8/s320/joliegourd5.jpg" border="0" height="289" width="320"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">Photo by Maryanne Mesplé JB gourd</font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p><font size="3"> In this photo you see where I have used a j<font size="3">igsaw to top the gourd creating a bowl! With the gourd cut I scrape out the insides which are comprised of seeds and gourd fluff that is somewhat like <font size="3">styrofoam and flaky skin! <font size="3">Drawing the design in more detail is very <font size="3">relaxing for me. <font size="3">Although <font size="3">I am relaxed while drawing I have to be very cautious that my fingers to not erase what I draw! I discovered the hard way that graphite rubs off the gourd's body easily if I am not careful.</font></font></font></font></font></font></font></p>
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<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">Photo by Maryanne Mesplé JB gourd</font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p> I love the smell of the burning tool searing the gourds shell! In the photo above you can see I have begun to burn in the moon. This is when the design is set and cannot be changed because burn lines cannot be erased or rubbed out and even if painted over there is still the depression from the burn line. Burn is burn and there is no such thing (or word!) as un-burning! Part of the thrill, for me, while working with my gourds is knowing I have to be accepting of my work for there is no changing it once I begin using the <a href="http://www.woodcraft.com/category/1001041/woodburning.aspx">pyrography</a> tools.</p>
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<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">Photo by Maryanne Mesplé JB gourd</font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p><font size="3"> The <font size="3">recipient of this gourd is a beautiful soul who is <font size="3">a visual artist and poet. I had noticed <font size="3">in one of J<font size="3">B's</font> blogs a beautiful poem they wrote so I used the poem as part of the gourds <font size="3">expression.</font></font></font></font></font></p>
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<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">Photo by Maryanne Mesplé JB gourd</font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p> Done! La Luna completed and sealed. Like all my gourds I let them air out a small while before shipping them to their new home. La Luna is now living in the Pacific North West and hopefully creating smiles upon all the hearts that touch her. I was very happy making La Luna and before finishing, of course I already had another gourd in waiting :-) </p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p>Now, for gourd # 3</p>
</div>I Step Into Metag:worldofwiffledust.com,2013-01-22:2870411:BlogPost:1063622013-01-22T08:30:00.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
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<p align="center"><a href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403877010?profile=original" target="_self"><img class="align-center" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403877010?profile=RESIZE_320x320" width="200"></img></a></p>
<p align="center">I step into the night, fleeing what I cannot see</p>
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<p align="center">Heart beating words of hope</p>
<p align="center">That your light will pull me like</p>
<p align="center">The moth</p>
<p align="center">I…</p>
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<p align="center"><a target="_self" href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403877010?profile=original"><img class="align-center" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403877010?profile=RESIZE_320x320" width="200"></a></p>
<p align="center">I step into the night, fleeing what I cannot see</p>
<p align="center">Carrying candle lit to light my darkened way</p>
<p align="center">Heart beating words of hope</p>
<p align="center">That your light will pull me like</p>
<p align="center">The moth</p>
<p align="center">I pray</p>
<p align="center">I run</p>
<p align="center">I hide</p>
<p align="center">I step into the night, fleeing what I will not see</p>
<p align="center">Carrying my life as if I know my way</p>
<p align="center">Heart skipping beats as</p>
<p align="center">Fear chews up my faith</p>
<p align="center">And darkens</p>
<p align="center">And hides</p>
<p align="center">And sways me away</p>
<p align="center">From life and sweetness of</p>
<p align="center">Thee</p>
<p align="center">I step into my fright, seeing what I know</p>
<p align="center">Carrying my faith to clear my way</p>
<p align="center">Heart soothing my chaffed soul</p>
<p align="center">As your Divine Love</p>
<p align="center">Pulls me like the</p>
<p align="center">Soul</p>
<p align="center">I</p>
<p align="center">Am</p>
<p align="center">I step into Me</p>
<p align="center"><a target="_self" href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403877887?profile=original"><img class="align-full" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403877887?profile=original" width="284"></a></p>The Great Gourd Giveaway ~ Gourd # 1tag:worldofwiffledust.com,2013-01-15:2870411:BlogPost:1060732013-01-15T05:30:00.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
<p><font face="Verdana,sans-serif"><font size="3"> I shocked myself when I read the date on my last blog post in my Blogger Blog<font size="3">: Plants, Paint, Glue, and Jigsaws;</font> February 2012! Whoa! 11 months slipped by without me writing one sentence <font size="3">for my blog</font>. In my defense to myself about myself I was not slacking <font size="3">off <font size="3">and</font> snoozing overtime! The months</font> flew by unnotice<font size="3">d</font> as I drew and burned…</font></font></p>
<p><font face="Verdana,sans-serif"><font size="3"> I shocked myself when I read the date on my last blog post in my Blogger Blog<font size="3">: Plants, Paint, Glue, and Jigsaws;</font> February 2012! Whoa! 11 months slipped by without me writing one sentence <font size="3">for my blog</font>. In my defense to myself about myself I was not slacking <font size="3">off <font size="3">and</font> snoozing overtime! The months</font> flew by unnotice<font size="3">d</font> as I drew and burned and jigsawed and painted gourds. The gourds I devoted my time to were offered up as part of a giveaway to the first 5 people to respond to my "come and get yours!" post on Facebook in 2011!. I did not think I would have any takers because I did not say I would be giving away gourd art. My post simply stated I would be giving the first 5 lucky people something hand made by me. The people who responded did so not knowing what I would be making<font size="3">,</font> for all they knew I could have been thinking of knitting them up some lime green dish clothes! I love lime green dish clothes and I love knitting them for myself, so it would have been easy and fun to just make 5 dish cloths but I knew I would be making gourd <font size="3">art to give away</font>. Within an hour of my pressing the enter key on my computer's keyboard I was blessed with 5 Facebooking friends who were willing to be surprise<font size="3">d <font size="3">with a h<font size="3">and made creation by little ol' moi! </font></font></font> <font size="3">W</font>hen I realized that I had to gift 5 people with something I make I knew I needed to get busy because I am not that fast with my gourd creations<font size="3">!</font> That should be obvious since it has taken me almost 2 years to fulfill my offer!</font></font></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-foierpDMnBI/UPTB9mBT7OI/AAAAAAAACMc/YRuS9Ww8gYk/s1600/P3250032.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-foierpDMnBI/UPTB9mBT7OI/AAAAAAAACMc/YRuS9Ww8gYk/s320/P3250032.JPG" border="0" height="240" width="320"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">Photo by M.Mespl<font size="1">é JC Gourd 2011</font></font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p><font size="1"><font size="1"><font size="3"> Gourd number 1 was to become a resident of Oregon. I never know what design I will use when I begin to play with a gourd. It is when I am holding and turning the gourd round and round in my hands that I begin to get a feel for and a vision of how the gourd will look. In addition to getting a feel for a desi<font size="3">gn that may grace the <font size="3">gourd I also toy with the thought of<font size="3"> whether the gourd will be left intact or if I will top it creating a bowl. The Oregon gourd was fated to be a bowl <font size="3"><font size="3">as are many</font> of my gourds. I love bowls and it shows in my art. <font size="3"><br/></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lTJboB9OJq8/UPTidm7ZjGI/AAAAAAAACM0/EM16_xaW2sE/s1600/P4030032.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lTJboB9OJq8/UPTidm7ZjGI/AAAAAAAACM0/EM16_xaW2sE/s320/P4030032.JPG" border="0" height="240" width="320"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p> <font size="1">Photo by M.Mespl<font size="1">é 2011 J<font size="1">C Gourd</font></font></font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p><font size="1"><font size="1"><font size="1"><font size="3"> I begin by drawing <font size="3">what I visualize onto the gourd using a pencil and then I go over the pencil with a burning tool <font size="3">burning the desi<font size="3">gn into the gourd's skin. Burning the gourd <font size="3">can be a bit tricky because the surfa<font size="3">ce of a gourd can vary so much from spot to spot. I can be burning the design on one spot and it will take <font size="3">several seconds to make a mark and within 2 secon<font size="3">ds and an 1/8th of an inch later and the <font size="3">searing hot tool <font size="3">can</font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font> <font size="3">burn right thr<font size="3">ough the skin into the pulp<font size="3">! It takes practice to develop a feel for burning <font size="3">gourds. <font size="3">In the image above I am doing what I call the second burn<font size="3">. The first burn <font size="3">barely scorches the gourd while the secon<font size="3">d and third burnings take the desi<font size="3">gn deeper.</font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q9XRDxmWudU/UPTifkVgtGI/AAAAAAAACM8/q9q9OrKTnVc/s1600/P4040036.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q9XRDxmWudU/UPTifkVgtGI/AAAAAAAACM8/q9q9OrKTnVc/s320/P4040036.JPG" border="0" height="240" width="320"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">Photo by M.Mesplé JC gourd</font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p><font size="1"><font size="3"> I love the sm<font size="3">ell of burning gourds but <font size="3">the smoke can be a bit toxic <font size="3">so I contro<font size="3">l my<font size="3">self <font size="3">in wanting to breathe in the wonderful smell of burnt go<font size="3">urd! As I burn I blow <font size="3"><font size="3">onto the gourd contin<font size="3">uously <font size="3">k<font size="3">eeping the stream of smoke a<font size="3">way from my face. I look like I am trying to whistle with neve<font size="3">r any tunes <font size="3">coming from my mouth<font size="3">. The image above shows the gourd burnt and ready for <font size="3">paint. </font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rM9appLuQxg/UPTihdGfeEI/AAAAAAAACNE/1oiL9a7bviE/s1600/P4060055.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rM9appLuQxg/UPTihdGfeEI/AAAAAAAACNE/1oiL9a7bviE/s320/P4060055.JPG" border="0" height="240" width="320"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">Photo by M.Mespl´JC gourd</font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p><font size="1"> <font size="3">Deciding on color is very hard and also <font size="3">I always have to keep in mind th<font size="3">at the natural color of the <font size="3">gourd changes the color of the paint I choose! I can pick out a nice blue paint and if I put it on like a glaze <font size="3">it will look <font size="3">more green than blue<font size="3">. Here, in the <font size="3">image above, I have decided to color the gourd using l<font size="3">eather dye. One of the fun aspect<font size="3">s about working with gourds is you are not pinned to using only traditional paints to dress your gourds up. I use leather dye, acrylics, alkyds, <font size="3">permanent markers and even beet juice. </font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0BZJ8m5dFxg/UPTiMrtHe3I/AAAAAAAACMs/z-J2QCqjt0k/s1600/P4080094.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0BZJ8m5dFxg/UPTiMrtHe3I/AAAAAAAACMs/z-J2QCqjt0k/s320/P4080094.JPG" border="0" height="254" width="320"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">Photo by M.Mesplé JC gourd</font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p><font size="1"><font size="3"> <font size="3">Oregon bound gourd bowl complete! The inside is dyed with leather dye also and although it looks purple the <font size="3">bottle said it was blue! Always a surprise with color <font size="3">so one needs to have an open creative mind and <font size="3">be accepting. <font size="3">When I choose to use very opaque paints the natural color of the gourd is not <font size="3">that much of a factor in the outcome but still, I do find <font size="3">I need to do several coats. Also, once I have complete<font size="3">d a piece of g<font size="3">ourd art I <font size="3">seal it wi<font size="3">th a lacquer to protect the paint and hop<font size="3">e<font size="3">fully prolong the life of the artwork. Gourds are <font size="3">big seed pods and respond to na<font size="3">t<font size="3">ure like they were created to do. If yo<font size="3">u put a gourd outside it will cr<font size="3">ack open so, it is never a good idea to keep gourd art outside. </font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p><font size="1"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"> </font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p><font size="1"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3">Next up <font size="3">~ gourd number 2 in the great gourd give away!</font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p><font size="1"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3">M :-) </font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></p>
</div>Fresh Air Clears the Headtag:worldofwiffledust.com,2013-01-14:2870411:BlogPost:1059602013-01-14T06:30:00.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><font size="1"><i>Image by M. Mesplé<font size="1"> </font></i></font> <font size="3"><i><font size="1">201…</font></i></font></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><font size="1"><i>Image by M. Mesplé<font size="1"> </font></i></font> <font size="3"><i><font size="1">201<font size="1">3</font></font></i></font></p>
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<p><font size="3"> Whew, <font size="3">I feel like I have had my head in a plastic bag breathing the same stale air for way too long! <font size="3">Even if that bag was a bag from a health food store it was so organically suffocating! Okay, the <font size="3">M</font>eta<font size="3">phor is all about being and feeling <font size="3">stagnate<font size="3">, useless, non-product<font size="3">ive and generally <font size="3">hopeless</font></font>. A self infl<font size="3">icted suffocation <font size="3">is often hard to accept hence the <font size="3">r<font size="3">i</font>diculous length of time it takes to recognize we are our own executioners!</font> Self induced pun<font size="3">ishment is just st<font size="3">upid but unfortunately i<font size="3">t is not until our spirit is almo<font size="3">st dead that <font size="3">the <font size="3">proverbial light bulb goes of<font size="3">f! The light bul<font size="3">b that reveals those great ideas hiding in the dark recesses of our m<font size="3">ind</font></font>. That <font size="3">'ol light bul<font size="3">b revealed to me that I needed to get my act together <font size="3">and <font size="3">get awa<font size="3">y from</font> <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Facebook">FACEBOOK</a>. I believe it will <font size="3"><font size="3">eventually</font> be proven that many a li<font size="3">fe is lost to the mental vac<font size="3">uum that happens when sitting in front of the computer s<font size="3">creen <font size="3">or transfixed to your Smartphone</font> checking "your wall" or "your news <font size="3"><font size="3">feed" as if those pages <font size="3">are critical <font size="3">life support in today's society. I snapped out of it and started counting my brain cells to discover I had lost a large number of neurons but fortunately with a new <font size="3">paradigm of thought I know how to self induce Neurogenesis. I do! I hope!</font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></p>
<p><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"> </font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></p>
<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--EbHt5NIRo0/UPOCN707NdI/AAAAAAAACJQ/2TjH7N_oI4s/s1600/Photo+66.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--EbHt5NIRo0/UPOCN707NdI/AAAAAAAACJQ/2TjH7N_oI4s/s320/Photo+66.jpg" border="0" height="240" width="320"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="1">Photo by M.Mespl<font size="1">é 2013</font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="1"><font size="1"> <span class="font-size-3"><font size="3">My face had that blank look as I consumed all the com<font size="3">mentary posted about the world's condition and global perspectives of life <font size="3">which is good<font size="3">;</font> diversity is healthy. But</font> more specifically<font size="3">, most of my news was from</font> my circle of <font size="3">connections comprised of family, friends, acquaintances, and those random strangers from near and far away. Th<font size="3">ose random strangers would become friends</font> because of an affinity th<font size="3">at would develop</font> between us. That affinity between myself and a stranger was born from similar likes <font size="3">exposed via ne<font size="3">ws feeds or games<font size="3">. Friendships created exclusively via <font size="3">writ<font size="3">ten <font size="3">opinions or game scores or little virtual tokens would inspire</font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></span></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font> <span class="font-size-3">the friend request and its acceptance and soon my circle of friends bloomed like a huge peo<font size="3">ny! It is not uncommon for <font size="3">m</font>any people have</font> 300, 400, or even 2<font size="3">,000 friends! <font size="3">B</font>ut, seriously, even in the land of the 3-D I can't fill up my fingers and <font size="3">toes with names of <font size="3">local friends! So I diverge and now back to my suffocation<font size="3">:</font></font></font></font> I would get online and my whole countenance would change and my face would get <font size="3">t</font>hat look, that stare, and that washed out lack of expression that ee<font size="3">riely confirms</font> zombies exist. <font size="3">The zombiefie<font size="3">d face is proof that</font></font> life is being sucked out of your aura <font size="3">and carried away by electrons and ghost particles that deposit your life force bit by bit into a "<a href="http://computer.howstuffworks.com/cloud-computing/cloud-storage.htm">cloud</a>" somewhere other worldly, or down the street.<font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"> </font> Enough! I screamed inside and out, Enough!!!!!!</font></font></font></font></font></font></span></p>
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<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="1"><font size="1"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="1">Photo by M.Mespl<font size="1">é</font> 20<font size="1">08</font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="1"><font size="1"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"> It is not that Facebook does <font size="3">not have a good side, it does. I so enjoyed sharing my playtime with my grandchildren or showing pictures of my latest magical concoction in the kitchen or sharing my inspirational musings but<font size="3"> there <b><i>is a side to Facebook that is <a href="http://www.thefreedictionary.com/demoralizing">demoralizing </a></i></b> </font></font> <b><i>for me personally</i></b>. I just had enough! I had enough <font size="3"><font size="3">and knew I had enough every time</font></font> I felt my heart ache and my stomach knot up in pain and my chest tighten and I could no longer be objective about what I was reading<font size="3">. I could no longer just stare blankly at and be unmoved by <font size="3">words or images that glorified automat<font size="3">ic weaponry designed specifically for killing human be<font size="3">ings</font> included in <font size="3">the same sentence expressing one's undying love for God. <font size="3">I <font size="3">began to twitch when I would read about how filthy and stupid and <font size="3">manipulati<font size="3">ng Mexican's here in <font size="3">the U.S. illegally (and le<font size="3">gally<font size="3">)</font></font> are because <b><i>of course</i></b> they know how to pull the wool over our government's eyes and get everything <font size="3">for free AND all Mexican women <font size="3">scheme and plan on having children only to receive welfare checks</font>! How stupid am I, eh? All these years I could have just gone into the baby making business and not work like a "real American"! <font size="3">After all, I have enough Mexican bloo<font size="3">d in me straight from <a href="http://www.houstonculture.org/mexico/chihuahua.html">Ch</a><font size="3"><a href="http://www.houstonculture.org/mexico/chihuahua.html">ihuahua Mexico</a> courtesy <font size="3"><font size="3">of my Great Grandmother Refug<font size="3">eo</font>!</font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font> I could have made a f<font size="3">o<font size="3">rtune but <font size="3">my baby making days are gone and so too is that gold mine of an opportunity. <font size="3">No, I am not serious about making money having babies and I take offense with anyone who believes this nonsense is true for "Mexicans"<font size="3">.</font> Makes me want to eat nails and spit ra<font size="3">zor blades<font size="3">!</font></font></font></font></font></font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="1"><font size="1"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"> <span class="font-size-3">So,<font size="3"> eve<font size="3">ry night I would sign onto Facebook with my plastic bag over my head, and put a lot of effo<font size="3">rt into being</font> happy and objective while my stomach would twist in kno<font size="3">ts <font size="3">and my chest muscles would tighten down and make it difficult for me to breath. Why? Why is because in addition to post about guns and <font size="3">God and <font size="3">illegal Mexican<font size="3">s</font></font></font> I began to seeing more and more post implying</font></font></font></font></span></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font> <span class="font-size-3">God cares about <i><b>money</b></i> and God <i><b>wants</b></i> <font size="3">his</font> people to make lots of money and tithe lots of money to the church so that the church can go out and find more souls to make more money to tithe more and on and on and on<font size="3">! BUT when it comes to</font>starving children then God's <font size="3">opinion was a bit different according to a lot of people dumping information into Facebook's new<font size="3">s feeds. </font></font> <font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3">I read</font></font></font> people's statements<font size="3">, opinions,</font> and endorsements inferring that God saw starving children hav<font size="3">ing</font> only themselves and their parents to blam<font size="3">e damn it <font size="3"><font size="3">AND people who don't have a job are lazy S.O.B.s<font size="3">! People on unemployment and or receiving food stamp<font size="3">s are obviously lazy no good drug addicts or free<font size="3">loaders</font></font></font> that only want to mooch off of those who do have a job (and they have a job because God loves them).</font> What? Yes!!! </font> <font size="3">AND </font> the hateful, ju<font size="3">dgment<font size="3">al commentary only</font></font> worsened. Here is where that plastic bag over my head began to kill me and here is</font> where I have to raise my hand, and stand up and admit that <font size="3">I became</font> filled with raging anger and nauseating disgust and searing pain in my heart and soul. People <font size="3"><font size="3">passing <font size="3">judgment on children and their parents and speaking as if they personally see these so called <b><i>scum bags</i></b> take "their" hard earned money is just about as i<font size="3">gnorant <font size="3">as one can get. For me, I am</font></font></font></font> speaking <font size="3">about an area where I have real living experience and I know about being part Mexican, I know about being without food and being without clothes and I know about begging for crumbs and stealing to eat and ... UGH!!!!!!!!<font size="3"> I <font size="3">have known of 2 people in my life that truly sucked off the system deliberately and <font size="3">n<font size="3">either one of them is of Mexican heritage and both are beautiful Caucasion women and between them both they only have 3 children.</font></font></font> I grew up with guns <font size="3">and God and <font size="3">military and <font size="3">real</font></font> <a href="http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2003/08/0814_030815_cowboys.html">Vaqueros</a><font size="3">. I <font size="3">lived for a time when I had no one to care for me, when I watched rats and mice have more to eat than myself or my brothers. I lived where I would play "catch <font size="3">ya" with cockroaches by flipping on and off the light switches and counting how many <font size="3">roaches I could see before the disappeared into the walls. I could go on but I am <font size="3">wanting to get some fresh air.</font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></span></p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yXWLXW65AhM/UPOGI668TyI/AAAAAAAACJk/VcpzcTJrprI/s1600/images-1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yXWLXW65AhM/UPOGI668TyI/AAAAAAAACJk/VcpzcTJrprI/s1600/images-1.jpg" border="0"/></a></p>
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<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="1"><font size="1"> <font size="1">Homeless Children photo from <a href="http://disastersurvivaltools.com/2011/12/homeless-children-at-record-high-in-us/">Safe and Ready Life</a></font> </font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="1"><font size="1"><font size="3"> I have wonderful friends coaching me to just ignore certain people and b<font size="3">e yourself and to not take Facebook so seriou<font size="3">sly. I don<font size="3">'t take <i><b>Facebook</b></i> seriously<font size="3">;</font> I take narr<font size="3">ow minded racist hate <font size="3">filled ignoran<font size="3">t commentar<font size="3">y by <i><b>real</b></i> people seriously and to heart and it hurts. I can't live <font size="3">with my head inside a plastic bag called Facebook and pretend that everyt<font size="3">hing is okay and that people will just be silly <font size="3">la la la la! No, I <font size="3">cannot do that. I feel that by being on Facebook I am endorsing those hateful people to continu<font size="3">e to be hateful<font size="3">. By <font size="3">swallowing my anger I am letting the bu<font size="3">lly <font size="3">bully me and <font size="3">give away my power. By spending my time on Facebook I am letting myself <font size="3">disappear into the far reaches of <font size="3">another world that <font size="3">does not fit my soul's expression <font size="3">nor does it reflect my soul<font size="3">'s desires<font size="3">. Again, I am not implying that <font size="3">everyone who uses Facebook is an arse for certainly I have used Facebook a lot since 200<font size="3">6. I have really enjoyed my F<font size="3">acebook time and</font>I have developed real long lasting friendships. I am stating <font size="3">that F<font size="3">acebook has become a venue where a nasty side of our soc<font size="3">ie<font size="3">ty has a huge voice and I am sorry, I don't have time for nor do I support ugl<font size="3">iness. I need to breathe! I need to have my days filled with creative adventures and <font size="3">I need to give expression to my so<font size="3">ul <font size="3">100%. I can live without a constant news feed and without a <i><b>w</b></i><font size="3"><i><b>all</b></i> and without watching people whom I thought I knew reveal that I never really knew them<font size="3">. Of course, my perspec<font size="3">tive of life is only as wide as my path and I know that I have my shadows and <font size="3">that I pass judgment and <font size="3">that I could use a lot more devotion to forgiven<font size="3">ess BUT I also know that without F<font size="3">acebook I begin to have clarity about <i><b>me</b></i> and what <i><b>I</b></i> want and what <i><b>I need</b></i> ... and I realize that I don't need to <font size="3">suffocate myself with that damn plastic bag<font size="3">. </font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="1"><font size="1"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3">B R E A T H E and <font size="3">thrive <font size="3">and be alive! </font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></p>
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<div style="text-align: center;"><p><a href="http://disastersurvivaltools.com/2011/12/homeless-children-at-record-high-in-us/"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="3"><font size="1"><font size="1"> </font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></font></a></p>
</div>And Then She Came ... UGH!tag:worldofwiffledust.com,2012-08-25:2870411:BlogPost:990262012-08-25T03:47:56.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
<p><a href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403880370?profile=original" target="_self"><img class="align-left" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403880370?profile=original" width="240"></img></a></p>
<p>What you see is the expression on my face of exasperation upon learning that my fellow packsters were going to invite a stranger into OUR pack! I just could not wrap my mind around why our happy home would need another dog ... and all I could think was, "oh woof is me!"</p>
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<p>So, here I was as happy as any four legged family member could be and Pop and Mom…</p>
<p><a target="_self" href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403880370?profile=original"><img class="align-left" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403880370?profile=original" width="240"></a></p>
<p>What you see is the expression on my face of exasperation upon learning that my fellow packsters were going to invite a stranger into OUR pack! I just could not wrap my mind around why our happy home would need another dog ... and all I could think was, "oh woof is me!"</p>
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<p>So, here I was as happy as any four legged family member could be and Pop and Mom started talking about how I needed a buddy. Seriously, did they ask me? No! I could have told them I did not need any companionship (their word). To me, life is/was perfect. We walked in the park everyday. I had my own food dish and fresh water and even chicken strips as a treat every single day. Who in their right mind would want any competition?</p>
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<p>Seriously, do you or would you want to share your Puppachino?</p>
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<p><a target="_self" href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403881020?profile=original"><img class="align-full" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403881020?profile=RESIZE_1024x1024" width="750"></a></p>
<p>Would you want to share your 4 shot Soy Latte? On ice? Me neither!</p>
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<p><a target="_self" href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403882894?profile=original"><img class="align-full" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403882894?profile=RESIZE_1024x1024" width="750"></a></p>
<p>And my bed! OMG just the thought of another furry body on my bed! Just look at me, does it look like I needed company? Seriously, Pop and Mom were not thinking clearly!</p>
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<p><a target="_self" href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403887189?profile=original"><img class="align-full" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403887189?profile=RESIZE_1024x1024" width="750"></a></p>
<p>My walks! All I could think of was that my walks along the river would become a nightmare. I mean, I have a routine, my people, my life ... Pop and Mom were being crazy to think that our pack needed more feet. The thought of sharing Ms R? Oh the misery!</p>
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<p><a target="_self" href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403888174?profile=original"><img class="align-full" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403888174?profile=RESIZE_1024x1024" width="750"></a></p>
<p><a target="_self" href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403891932?profile=original"></a></p>
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<p>But, nobody listened to my woofs. Nope. The next thing I knew I was at the same shelter that Pop and Mom found me in and I was supposed to let them know if I liked "that dog". Well, once I saw her how could I let her stay locked up and not have the same kind of love I experience. How could I deny Zoe; that's her name Zoe, how could I deny Zoe a latte? a Puppachino? A walk along the river? a comfy bed? and lots of love?</p>
<p>I just could not so, I said okay and we all brought Zoe home to be a part of the pack.</p>
<p><a target="_self" href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403891932?profile=original"><img class="align-full" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403891932?profile=RESIZE_1024x1024" width="750"></a></p>
<p>BUT I still have days where all I want to do is stick my tongue out and say, pllllllllllbbbbbt! Pop and Mom were mine first! I don't care how cute Zoe is, I will always be the alpha!</p>
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<p><a target="_self" href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403892191?profile=original"><img class="align-full" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403892191?profile=RESIZE_1024x1024" width="750"></a></p>
<p>And of course Zoe puts on that "poor little me" look and she is anything but poor and little! But, I still love her even though no one asked me if we needed another pack member.</p>
<p>Ah well, so was the day that Ms Zoe came to live with us.</p>
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<p>Woofa`ly submitted,</p>
<p>Mandy Mesple a.k.a. Good Girl</p>Time, Creativity and Finally Some Completiontag:worldofwiffledust.com,2012-06-25:2870411:BlogPost:968192012-06-25T00:35:32.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
<div style="text-align: center;"><p>I push myself. I guilt trip myself when I run from my <font size="3"><i>pushing</i></font> of myself. </p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MLqBfVv3IqI/TyTM0QOrmQI/AAAAAAAAARg/gKzaMCXMF4g/s1600/runningfinger.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MLqBfVv3IqI/TyTM0QOrmQI/AAAAAAAAARg/gKzaMCXMF4g/s320/runningfinger.jpg" width="320"></img></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p> <font size="1">(Running…</font></p>
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<div style="text-align: center;"><p>I push myself. I guilt trip myself when I run from my <font size="3"><i>pushing</i></font> of myself. </p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MLqBfVv3IqI/TyTM0QOrmQI/AAAAAAAAARg/gKzaMCXMF4g/s1600/runningfinger.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MLqBfVv3IqI/TyTM0QOrmQI/AAAAAAAAARg/gKzaMCXMF4g/s320/runningfinger.jpg" border="0" height="273" width="320"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p> <font size="1">(Running Fingers. Photo by M. Mesplé. 7/2011)</font></p>
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<p> I get out my game of Guilt Tripping and play against <a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/moi#French" target="_blank">moi</a> when I am feeling creative and life serves stagnation via detours away from my studio. Bad bad girl! Not giving myself time to do my little artsy adventures creates within me a feeling of not functioning properly. I do know however, that I will return to my studio and I will once again breathe deeply and let my imagination manifest. When I find my way back to myself and get off those detours involving other people, I embrace my unfinished work and try to re-discover the energy needed to get in that particular zone of manifesting. It is important to me (am I an odd duck here?) that I tap into the feelings, the imagery, the ambiance within that I was surfing on before getting derailed.</p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UeBu-6qYOeA/TzA6Z6YY0hI/AAAAAAAAAR4/nOgUZ81OUs4/s1600/derail2-475x372.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UeBu-6qYOeA/TzA6Z6YY0hI/AAAAAAAAAR4/nOgUZ81OUs4/s320/derail2-475x372.jpg" border="0" height="250" width="320"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">(photo discovered here:<a href="http://www.thedailydl.com/microsoft-sues-dhl-for-2m-for-train-derailment">http://www.thedailydl.com/microsoft-sues-dhl-for-2m-for-train-derailment</a>)</font></p>
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<p> What am I trying to say here? I am trying to say that even with derailment of my intended, well planned out time allotted to myself in my studio I can eventually reclaim or rediscover what it was I thought I was channeling and finish what I started ... usually.</p>
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<p>In January of 2011 (this is now February 2012) I began the exciting process of creating a prayer bowl using a gourd and I just now completed the bowl. Really? Yes, really. (Where is my guilt? oh yes, right here, inside my mind!).</p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r5Pq5yK5h6g/TyTQSILB9rI/AAAAAAAAARo/-z9uKfe2aNg/s1600/guilt.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r5Pq5yK5h6g/TyTQSILB9rI/AAAAAAAAARo/-z9uKfe2aNg/s320/guilt.jpg" border="0" height="240" width="320"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">(Guilt Screams. Photo by M. Mesplé. 2008)</font></p>
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<p> Okay, the screaming is done and so is the beautiful prayer bowl that I made from a gourd! It's not the fault of the gourd that the journey from selection, to first cut, to burning, to painting took so long. Well, the truth is this; part of the time it took to complete the project was the gourd's fault. If that gourd had revealed it's flaws to me sooner than later I would have selected a different gourd. BUT ... had I selected a different gourd I would have missed out on amazing creative problem solving journey.</p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rWqM_qbDQ_M/TyTSYCY3k-I/AAAAAAAAARw/frywLVR10MU/s1600/hiddenflaws.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rWqM_qbDQ_M/TyTSYCY3k-I/AAAAAAAAARw/frywLVR10MU/s320/hiddenflaws.jpg" border="0" height="258" width="320"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">(Gourd In Waiting. Photo by M.Mesplé. 7/2010)</font></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><p> This journey, with THIS gourd involved cracks in the gourd that were well hidden. This journey involved a gourd that felt "thick" before cutting, and then that thickness became thick inner fluff with a thin, brittle outer shell.</p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ScJj3RSXgV0/TzBDhhvf1OI/AAAAAAAAASY/ae_ICtaLW28/s1600/prayerbowlprocess1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ScJj3RSXgV0/TzBDhhvf1OI/AAAAAAAAASY/ae_ICtaLW28/s320/prayerbowlprocess1.jpg" border="0" height="309" width="320"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">(photo by M.Mesplé, 2011)</font></p>
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<p> This journey involved two major hospitalizations of my aging mother; one hospitalization lasted 45 days. This journey involved running out of my selected color dye half way through staining the gourd!</p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZUgMTrzlfmo/TzBDnIETbNI/AAAAAAAAASo/Q8xAwhWuHuI/s1600/prayerbowlprocess3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZUgMTrzlfmo/TzBDnIETbNI/AAAAAAAAASo/Q8xAwhWuHuI/s320/prayerbowlprocess3.jpg" border="0" height="240" width="320"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">(photo by M.Mesplé, 2011)</font></p>
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<p> This journey derailed because of my own medical adventure that involved surgery and a recovery that lasted for two months!</p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UsKpKtY-QIQ/TzBDryf5WGI/AAAAAAAAAS4/bTfLddlwvow/s1600/prayerbowlprocess5.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UsKpKtY-QIQ/TzBDryf5WGI/AAAAAAAAAS4/bTfLddlwvow/s320/prayerbowlprocess5.jpg" border="0" height="240" width="320"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">(photo by M.Mesplé, 2011)</font></p>
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<p> This journey involved emotional hardships involving people who should not matter but do. This journey involved emotional hardships involving people I love who broke my heart (or I let break my heart). This gourd has been a journey involving a lot of time, a lot of creativity beyond just design and execution of design ... creative problem solving to the max! This journey has been a circuitous path towards completion. Completion of a PRAYER bowl.</p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GLVoqevRvCg/TzBDkmH5imI/AAAAAAAAASg/v-LgW9WEpwY/s1600/prayerbowlprocess2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GLVoqevRvCg/TzBDkmH5imI/AAAAAAAAASg/v-LgW9WEpwY/s320/prayerbowlprocess2.jpg" border="0" height="320" width="319"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">(photo by M.Mesplé, 2011)</font></p>
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<p> What? Yes, a prayer bowl. In retrospect, I see how all those little distractions that I thought robbed me of time and robbed my creative juices were distractions held in prayer. For each obstacle I encountered I would use prayer as a means of discovering strength (without thinking of the fact that I was creating a prayer bowl).</p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FgDwIHGksiM/TzBDdpAvv7I/AAAAAAAAASI/Jl3UjcEIdgM/s1600/completedprayerbowl2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FgDwIHGksiM/TzBDdpAvv7I/AAAAAAAAASI/Jl3UjcEIdgM/s320/completedprayerbowl2.jpg" border="0" height="189" width="320"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">(photo by M.Mesplé, 2012)</font></p>
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<p> I prayed for understanding. I prayed for healing. I prayed for tolerance. The day I packed up the completed prayer bowl it hit me. I had received all I placed my intentions upon. All my little prayers I offered up were manifested. I held within me an understanding of life from a new perspective; a perspective I had not used before. I was healed in more ways than just on the physical plane ... my heart had healed in a way I never believed was possible. And tolerance is now a way of life without question.</p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WmSDQs97zrU/TzBDfx-NaAI/AAAAAAAAASQ/xz5Pwtb1HuY/s1600/completedprayerbowl3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WmSDQs97zrU/TzBDfx-NaAI/AAAAAAAAASQ/xz5Pwtb1HuY/s320/completedprayerbowl3.jpg" border="0" height="289" width="320"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">(photo by M.Mesplé, 2012)</font></p>
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<p> Without the thought of the fact that I was making a prayer bowl for another soul, I used the energy of this vessel to assist me with my own needs. As I stood holding this beautiful manifestation in my hands, preparing to send it off to its new home I became so aware of the eventuality of our intentions and that with time, and creativity, and a willingness to let go of the need to feel in control, all things come to completion. It is the "letting go of" combined with faith that took me back to my original path but that path is now paved a bit differently .... at least for a little while.</p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TFdlFt8bMCw/TzBDbsuxAwI/AAAAAAAAASA/p1a7U7WJZO8/s1600/completedprayerbowl.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TFdlFt8bMCw/TzBDbsuxAwI/AAAAAAAAASA/p1a7U7WJZO8/s320/completedprayerbowl.jpg" border="0" height="294" width="320"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">(photo by M.Mesplé, 2012)</font></p>
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<div style="text-align: center;"><p>Namasté</p>
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</div>Unconventioanl Beauty of Mantag:worldofwiffledust.com,2012-05-03:2870411:BlogPost:948572012-05-03T07:03:16.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
<p class="separator" style="text-align: center; clear: both;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CGQvaF6aSXk/T6IsWZVn7cI/AAAAAAAAAYE/WSDz7f6KYRI/s1600/images-2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CGQvaF6aSXk/T6IsWZVn7cI/AAAAAAAAAYE/WSDz7f6KYRI/s1600/images-2.jpg"></img></a></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://vi.sualize.us/tag/brick%20wall/"><font size="1">http://vi.sualize.us/tag/brick%20wall/</font></a></p>
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<p>There are times when I am totally unaware of a prejudice I may have until I am up against the proverbial wall…</p>
<p style="text-align: center; clear: both;" class="separator"><a style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CGQvaF6aSXk/T6IsWZVn7cI/AAAAAAAAAYE/WSDz7f6KYRI/s1600/images-2.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CGQvaF6aSXk/T6IsWZVn7cI/AAAAAAAAAYE/WSDz7f6KYRI/s1600/images-2.jpg" border="0"/></a></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><font size="1"><a href="http://vi.sualize.us/tag/brick%20wall/">http://vi.sualize.us/tag/brick%20wall/</a></font></p>
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<p>There are times when I am totally unaware of a prejudice I may have until I am up against the proverbial wall of narrow thinking. Being pinned to a mental wall by my own subjectivity brings my awareness around to recognizing chemically set beliefs that feel like unyielding bricks. Bricks in my own thinking that I have strewn about my minds narrow path. Wow! I love facing myself. I love pushing myself. I love spanking myself for being stuck in a mental imagery rut and I love pulling my proverbial arse out of that rut!</p>
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<p>Rut? What rut? Well, you try this though out: I was challenged to discover 10 images of the OPPOSITE sex that are <b><i>unconventional</i></b> in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beauty" target="_blank"><b>beauty</b></a>. Here is where the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prejudice" target="_blank"><b>prejudice</b></a> comes in: in my concrete left thinking mind (when taking on a challenge) ascribes beauty to a form in nature that is not human or to the female of the human species. My concrete brain cell does not use the word beauty as a masculine reference. I have to get my thinking off that wall of belief about the word beauty or I will never find any imagery of men who communicate unconventional beauty!!! Holy Moly! Am I that narrow thinking? I did not feel my limitations until I began my search for those elusive images of beautiful, unconventional men. My internal, mental monkey minded chatter and grumbling consisted of the mantra, "If I were a man this hunt for unconventional beauty in the opposite sex would be easy!" Call me silly but I am calling myself beauty prejudice.</p>
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<p>I need to breathe and explore the dictionary meaning of the words <a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/conventional" target="_blank">conventional</a> and <a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/unconventional" target="_blank">unconventional.</a> <i><b>Conventional</b></i> is conforming or adhering to accepted standards, as of conduct or taste and behavior. Conventional can be ordinary and from this point on you get the drift ... run of the mill "stuff" and perhaps what a person would experience in one's everyday interaction with life. This is where my prejudice comes in ... I view men in my world in a very conventional way. I don't or have not graced the male form (before now) with the word beauty. Now that I have the word <b><i>conventional</i></b> refreshed in my mind on to the word <b><i>unconventional</i></b>. Naturally, to me, I assume that because of the "un" that precedes the word conventional the meaning will be the opposite of what one would call conventional; Duh. Oh my head is hurting! An on-line dictionary defines <b><i>unconventional</i></b> as "not bound by or conforming to convention, rule, or precedent; free from conventionality: an unconventional artist" ... blah blah blah. Did finding and refreshing my understanding of unconventional make this quest easier? NO! I am still stuck inside of my head where I have been living and breathing without defining beauty relating to men in an <b><i>unconventional</i></b> way! Wait, I just found the synonyms for unconventional and what a huge help for my unyielding mind: <i><b>eccentric, individualistic, idiosyncratic, atypical</b></i>! YES! Words to help me get out of my rut! Words to un-stick me where I am stuck! Ahhhh, feeling much better now so ... on with my discovery of 10 images of Men that I believe convey unconventional beauty ... and I finally flipped over to my right side of my brain :-)</p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iRbpP-90acs/T6IGRmotSlI/AAAAAAAAAXg/qQ2bA8egMrs/s1600/images.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iRbpP-90acs/T6IGRmotSlI/AAAAAAAAAXg/qQ2bA8egMrs/s1600/images.jpg" border="0"/></a><font size="1"> </font></p>
<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://stealingstyle.com/archives/627"><font size="1">(Website for this image</font></a><font size="1">Project: Left Brain Right Brain Client: Mercedes Benz Agency: Shalmor Avnon <b>...</b></font><font size="1">stealingstyle.com)</font></p>
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<p> I love dance. I love watching the human form engaged in the expressive art form of dance. I would argue that most of us, when we close our eyes see women dancing as we mentally visualize "dance". I would imagine that if a person is encouraged to see in their minds eye a male form dancing their brain will serve up an image of <a href="http://www.nureyev.org/rudolf-nureyev-biography/" target="_blank">Rudolf Nureyev</a> or maybe even <a href="http://josegrecofoundation.org/" target="_blank">Jose Greco</a>. Yep, I would argue that point, and maybe not the exact same dancers and art forms but you get my drift. Today, I discovered a man whose moniker is Zorba and I knew immediately that I was witnessing beauty in male form. I was taken in by the expression of pure joy and maybe even ecstasy on Zorba's face as he is engaged in his artform. I can see his passion. I am drawn into his world. To me, that is the beauty of Zorba's male form that I am interacting with when I am gazing at this image of a MAN expressing and living his unconventional beauty. Thank you Zorba for being you! It is because of Zorba that my mind opened even more and softened as I let Zorba lead my way in my search for more images of unconventional male beauty.</p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_TxnAzWBdA8/T6HuofwADWI/AAAAAAAAAWA/m_gWqB70qro/s1600/bellydancersmile.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_TxnAzWBdA8/T6HuofwADWI/AAAAAAAAAWA/m_gWqB70qro/s320/bellydancersmile.jpg" border="0" height="240" width="320"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">Zorba ~ The Veiled Male Belly Dancer ~ <a href="http://www.doubleveil.net/">http://www.doubleveil.net/</a></font></p>
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<p>Once I saw the beauty of expression on Zorba's face in the image above, I just had to keep looking at male belly dancers! I so enjoy stretching my small neuropathways! I discovered the image below of Rachid Alexander and admit he most certainly is a beautiful specimen of a man being unconventional in his expression of self. I love this photo because of the artist graceful lines he creates with his arms, and torso. My eyes repeat the pattern of flowing from finger tip to finger tip over and over with pauses to take in the beautiful costume rich with color and texture. This image is for me a beautiful experience.</p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w--phJ7tjO4/T6HuogpbWSI/AAAAAAAAAWI/fusZycSccYQ/s1600/blackbellydancer.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w--phJ7tjO4/T6HuogpbWSI/AAAAAAAAAWI/fusZycSccYQ/s1600/blackbellydancer.jpg" border="0"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p> (<font size="1">Google image of Rachid Alexander <a href="http://www.rachidraqs.nl/">http://www.rachidraqs.nl/</a>)</font></p>
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<p>I certainly would like to think that my discovery of this new form of beauty does not get me in trouble. Trouble because I now am wanting to find a nightclub where there are male belly dancers that I can witness in person. I mean ... seriously, just look at the image below! Can we all say: Unconventional beauty? Why yes, I think we can ... oh, and it is artistic too!</p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OG8BSkJE3eY/T6IB7F-NvFI/AAAAAAAAAXU/iD3zaL8Iddo/s1600/908835385_2e34da81b1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OG8BSkJE3eY/T6IB7F-NvFI/AAAAAAAAAXU/iD3zaL8Iddo/s320/908835385_2e34da81b1.jpg" border="0" height="298" width="320"/></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1"><font style="margin-top: 0pt;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jeremy_shane/908835385/">Arish lam 16.jpg</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/jeremy_shane/">Jeremy Shane</a>.</font></font></p>
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<div style="text-align: center;"><p><font size="1">Male belly dancer, nuff said.</font></p>
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<p>Pause. The quest for unconventional male beauty is exhausting. Mentally exhausting because I am not wanting to take a break and because of that I am not thinking properly ... I captured a picture and cannot rediscover the link to give credit. I simply used my finger pad and slid the image off to the side and .... oops! Even in searching my history I am stumped! Maybe that is a good thing. Maybe being stumped helps me remember my quest, my goal of discovering and sharing the artistic beauty of the male figure/form presented or captured or whatever that is not the norm, that is unique ... to me. In my haunting of the internet my eyes fell upon this beautiful image of an older man.</p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lubVsyxWFZM/T6HupL6qTdI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/lApGfI2wNxE/s1600/blueyedman.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lubVsyxWFZM/T6HupL6qTdI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/lApGfI2wNxE/s1600/blueyedman.jpg" border="0"/></a></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><font size="1">(google image)</font></p>
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<p><br/>My eyes become riveted to his eyes, held by the wisdom, the knowing, the blueness, the way this being is so unconventional to my world. I find him very beautiful, very alluring, very interesting and would love to sit and share worlds with his blue eyes. I know in many cultures the turban is for religious reasons that I am ignorant of. I find the plaid pattern of his head wrap unique and thinking that maybe his head dress is for environmental reasons and not religious? What ever the reason for this beautiful soul has for wrapping his head is a mystery but adds to the imagery and to my collection of the beauty of the male form. I want to touch his face.</p>
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<p style="text-align: center;">(Coffee break! I'll be back shortly. During this intermission you can go get yourself a cup of whatever too! Remember to return!)</p>
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<p style="text-align: center; clear: both;" class="separator"><a style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CAU8DQXo7ws/T6IW_V_boaI/AAAAAAAAAXs/12scSKQBE24/s1600/images-1.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CAU8DQXo7ws/T6IW_V_boaI/AAAAAAAAAXs/12scSKQBE24/s1600/images-1.jpg" border="0"/></a><font size="1"> </font></p>
<p style="text-align: center; clear: both;" class="separator"><a href="http://creoleindc.typepad.com/rantings_of_a_creole_prin/2012/04/home-coffee.html"><font size="1">(Website for this image)</font></a></p>
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<p><br/>I have always had a weak spot for men who don't project gender roles onto parenting. Men who have no problem with embracing the responsibility for bringing up our children are truly beautiful souls. The image below is of one such beautiful soul. This unconventional male is in a very conventional setting and I find I smile when I look upon him and his child. To me, this is what the soul is made of and to me this image captures the beauty of the male form expressing as loving parent ... no gender issue .. and that is extraordinary! Is this image artistic? The interpretation is always up for debate because art is so subjective and if I say this is artistically beautiful then it is .. for me.</p>
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<p class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Vug0LKE6Pfo/T6HupavdnTI/AAAAAAAAAWY/_V_5MC7_g6g/s1600/manbaby.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Vug0LKE6Pfo/T6HupavdnTI/AAAAAAAAAWY/_V_5MC7_g6g/s1600/manbaby.jpg" border="0"/></a></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><font size="1">(<a href="http://goodmenproject.com/families/10-things-id-tell-my-teenage-daughter-about-men-dating-and-sex/">http://goodmenproject.com/families/10-things-id-tell-my-teenage-daughter-about-men-dating-and-sex/</a>)</font></p>
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<p>I don't like tattoos. Okay, don't get your panties in a wad because you have a tattoo. There are reasons I don't like tattoos and because of those reasons I will not ever get one. I do find many tattoos beautiful, especially on young people who have tight skin, but after working in the medical field for too many years I am here to share with you that tattoos tend to migrate as a body ages and those tight little rosebuds bloom into peonies! Use your imagination! Now, getting away from my personal opinion about tattoos I have to admit that I do enjoy looking at Maori people's body art. The Maori call their face art Ta Moko.</p>
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<h3 class="il_l" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://mvemilygrace.blogspot.com/2010/11/maori-welcome-to-new-zealand.html"><font size="1">Website for this image</font></a></h3>
<div class="il_n"><p>In looking at many pictures of Maori men, young and old, I have not found one image that makes me say "what were they thinking"! The Ta Moko of the face is absolutely beautiful. I love the patterns, the meanings that are tied to each area of the face and it just seems that when our Creator made the Maori the Maori were meant to be adorned by their unique ink body art. Even the Maori tattooing of the rest of the body is to me, mesmerizing. Maori male body art is unconventionally beautiful and extremely artistic in addition to each Moko telling a unique story.</p>
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<p style="text-align: center;"><font size="5">For Adult Eyes Only!</font></p>
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<p>It had to happen. When you type into the search engine "unconventional male beauty" you are bound to get some skin .. uncovered with conventional clothing. This beautiful image of the male form graced my screen and I must share. Beautiful because the pose is not for the conventional audience, but to me it speaks of how we .. maybe just me ... views the male body when posed. My mental imagery of the nude male form usually pops up as Mr. Atlas or sexy fireman posing in their boots and suspenders holding up pants ... no shirt (is that anyway to dress for a fire?) , or sometimes that blue eyed hunk that needs a shave. My mind never presents to my viewing pleasure a male form as sleek, trim, not too muscled and standing on a column like Adonis himself.</p>
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<p style="text-align: center;"><font size="1">(<a href="http://pinterest.com/cutler65/">http://pinterest.com/cutler65/</a>)</font></p>
<p>This image is very unconventional in its portrayal of the male form .. and to my eyes, and to some other eyes that I can only imagine, this half human, half god like male form could inspire a mythology for an entire mythological nation and that is amazing.</p>
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<p style="text-align: center;"><font size="5">End of Nudity</font> <font size="5">You can open your eyes again</font></p>
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<p>I am digressing back to my female hormonal mind set and when I saw Mr. David Lee Roth's picture the image screamed <i><b>Unconventional</b></i> Male Beauty! Oh yes, and after the scream of his artistic beauty I smiled with the memory of the 80's and how his image (or one like it) graced my locker at work .. at a hospital .. and in between surgical cases I would get to Jump! when looking at David in my locker. Yes yes yes, I know it may seem like I am treating the image of David like he were an object. Not true.</p>
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<div style="text-align: center;"><font size="1">(David Lee Roth <a href="http://www.rock1061.com/pages/7492436.php">http://www.rock1061.com/pages/7492436.php</a>)</font></div>
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<p><br/>For me, David Lee Roth is a beautiful specimen of the male form and he adorned himself with his individualistic style with perfection. It appeared to me that everything this man did was a form of art. His clothes were art, his dance of course was a form of expressive art, his voice, his photos, just everything. And for all those reasons he has earned a place among my 10 images of unconventional beauty of the opposite sex. Thank you Mr. David!</p>
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<p><br/>I am always ready to stare at Seal. I just can't take my eyes of of him. The scars on his face add to the beautiful form and presence of this man. His scars are like random acts of visual art that nature took liberty to grace him with. Seal did not intentionally scar himself. This is his body's natural expression in this life. He wears his blessings well and that is what draws me to him. Truly a beauty of nature.</p>
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<p style="text-align: center;"><font size="1">(<a href="http://www.seal.com/">http://www.seal.com/</a>)</font></p>
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<p>I always appreciate the ability for any person to accept themselves "as is" and embrace their unique physical expression. Redefining what beauty is has been a "beautiful" adventure for me. I have appreciated artist such as Seal for many years. I have loved the boldness of those who do not fit nicely into what society splashes all over the place as what is beautiful or good looking or handsome and .. with those words I found myself genderizing (could be a word!) words again to conform to what I was taught to believe. Now, when I look upon Seal's face I can use the word beautiful and feel it. The same is true in regards to societies portrayal of what is physically appealing for everyone when it comes to one of my favorite actors Steve Buscemi. Steve Buscemi has a grace and beauty about him that defies convention!</p>
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<h3 class="il_l"><a href="http://www.time.com/time/specials/packages/article/0,28804,2094690_2094691_2094799,00.html"><font size="1">(Website for this image</font></a> <font size="1">Top 10 Unconventional Leading Men. Bob Berg / Getty Images</font> <font size="1">time.com) <br/></font></h3>
<h3 style="text-align: left;" class="il_l"><font size="1"><font style="font-weight: normal;" size="3">Steve Buscemi's physical form which is slight is at odds to what many think the male form should be like (raising my hand!) but now, I am rethinking all of my prejudices and understanding that I was so self limiting. Steve has a beautiful body and his face is amazing because of his unique facial print. There is no mistaking Steve. His artistic form allows him to give expression to his characters in a way that he can make me believe he is a dork and at the same time Mr. Suave! Wow, if that is not beautiful I don't know what is! His unconventional appearance and his artistry are his gifts of being different. He has amazing features that are perfect for black and white photography; just look at his eyes in the above photo! Beautiful. </font></font></h3>
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<h3 style="text-align: left;" class="il_l"><font size="1"><font style="font-weight: normal;" size="3">I could go on, but then this challenge/project would become a lifelong adventure and I have other things that need doing. I will sum up this experience with this thought: we all should challenge our beliefs. We all should question what we take for granted without question. We all should pause when we are judging a person and step outside of our narrow thinking and experiment with redefining the words we use to define people. </font></font></h3>
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<h3 style="text-align: left;" class="il_l"><font size="1"><font style="font-weight: normal;" size="3">(forgive any typos ... my eyes are tired from all this beauty!) <br/></font></font></h3>
<h3 style="text-align: left;" class="il_l"><font size="1"><font style="font-weight: normal;" size="3">Thank you Lisa for asking me to join in!</font></font></h3>
<h3 style="text-align: left;" class="il_l"><font size="1"><font style="font-weight: normal;" size="3">Maryanne Mesple </font></font></h3>My Eyes Opentag:worldofwiffledust.com,2011-06-17:2870411:BlogPost:597642011-06-17T08:30:00.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
<p align="center"><b><i>My eyes open within my heart,</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>The veils of illusion fall away,</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>My Vision shoots through</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>My head</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>Peering into the Void</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I see myself as I have</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>Never seen myself</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>There, Up in the</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>Cradle of…</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>My eyes open within my heart,</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>The veils of illusion fall away,</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>My Vision shoots through</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>My head</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>Peering into the Void</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I see myself as I have</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>Never seen myself</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>There, Up in the</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>Cradle of the Gods</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I am The All,</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>Never have I been before,</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>Always will I be,</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>Seeing myself contained</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>Is no longer what I embrace</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>Smallness is no longer a belief.</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I expand as I breathe in the universe</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I contract into the</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>Microcosmic planes as I exhale</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I take in,</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I give out,</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I have no boundaries,</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I am the infinitesimal you cannot see</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I am the Vast you cannot measure</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I am all</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I am nothing</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I am truth and falsehood</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I am fact and fiction</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I am hot and cold</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>Long and short</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I am your Youth</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I am your decrepitude</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I am the beginning and the end</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I am non-breathable</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i> I am the breath</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>There is no realm where I do not exist</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I am my thought</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>And I am my void</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I am the before and the after</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>The finished and the undone</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>I am</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>And I see with open eyes<br/></i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>That We Are</i></b></p>
<p align="center"><b><i>Seamlessly One</i></b></p>Loveing What Is ~ The Book vs Metag:worldofwiffledust.com,2011-06-17:2870411:BlogPost:597462011-06-17T07:01:25.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
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<span class="font-size-1">(<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Loving-What-Four-Questions-Change/dp/1400045371/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1308293225&sr=1-1">http://www.amazon.com/Loving-What-Four-Questions-Change/dp/1400045371/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1308293225&sr=1-1</a>)</span><br />
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< Finally read the last word on the last page of Byron Katie's book, <br />
<i>Loving What Is</i>. It is not that big of a deal for me to take what feels like forever to read a book. I can say with certainty that when I find myself toting a book around for longer than two weeks it is because the book is more of a technical manual than a book. My experience with this book was the same experience I have with technical manuals. Is that a bad thing? No, not at all because technical reads are journeys into learning the mechanics of something so that we can understand "how to" best accomplish what the manual is giving instruction in.<br />
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< I picked up this book filled with excitement. <br />
<i>Loving What Is</i> held position number 1 on my list of must read books ... must read books I wrote about awhile back ... must read books that I own but never read. Anyone who lives with me or who knows me well knows I love reading and knows I have an extensive library. I nestled down with <br />
<i>Loving What Is</i> and without thinking I projected onto the author Ms Katie my enthusiastic hopes of discovering delicious words to pull me forward from cover to cover. I did not find delicious words. I was not pulled forward from cover to cover much less from page to page ... BUT ... that does not mean this book should be avoided. In the end, when I turned the last page and read the last word I admit that I benefited immensely from putting effort into consuming Byron's words. I "got it". I did The Work which is a phrase used by Byron Katie to define what she does and what the book is about. I am now doing The Work and The Work is working in my life. <br />
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< The Work is not new in its concept of self discovery. The Work is not new in facing reality and our responsibility for how we experience our lives. The Work is not new in pointing out that we create our sorrow by holding onto thoughts that cause us grief ... and we can let those thoughts go at any time. No, The Work is not new, but with this "technical manual" in hand one can master some very simple tools needed to face our thoughts and to gain control over our addiction to catering to and being too devoted to the story teller within us ... that can fib just a bit at times!<br />
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< Here is what I did not like about this book: Byron Katie's use of <br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Term_of_endearment">endearments</a> really turned me off. Seriously turned me off. I knew a person once in my life that used endearments all the time. This person's use of the words: sweetheart, sugar, honey, darling, baby cakes etc. always seemed so insincere and condescending to me. Each time I would hear this person refer to me as darling and so forth my skin would crawl and my teeth would ache from the sugar. This skin crawling reaction started happening while I attempted to read <br />
<i>Loving What Is</i>. In fact, for over a hundred pages I had my red pen in hand ready to cross out each endearment I came upon. I would scribble out the word, <br />
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<i>sweetheart</i><br />
</strike> in red then re-read the sentence without the sugary syrupy word. That is how I managed to get through the non-technical aspects of this book, a.k.a. the dialog. Ugh! My red pen was my only defense, my only weapon and red strike-outs worked well for me. It was not until Page 117 that I realized I was projecting an old story of mine into the words of Byron Katie. With this big epiphany I started applying the tools presented in the book to Byron Katie's use of endearments. Although I had been doing The Work because it is required as one reads from chapter to chapter, I had not thought of using The Work on the book about The Work! Doing The Work allowed me to finally put my pen down and I no longer needed to scratch out in <br />
<b>red</b> all the sugar in the dialog. Proof to me that Byron's method of confronting our thoughts, and doing what she calls inquiry can be beneficial if we are willing. I let go and accepted that Byron uses endearments, that is "what is" and her way of talking is not my business and making her manner of speech my business was only causing me to suffer. So, I started out not liking Byron Katie's speech and my adverse reaction to her words created a rift between me and the pages of the book but now, I can read the book without rolling my eyes, without my skin crawling and without my teeth hurting from the word sweetheart. I am not letting rouge thoughts of mine create grief for me. When a thought arises that wants to whine about a person saying, "honey" or "<br />
<a href="http://www.wordnik.com/words/sweetheart">sweetheart</a>" I ask myself a question or two or three or four and shoo the thought or the entire story away and then life is just what it is.<br />
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< There were also some concepts that did not sit well with me but then that is true for a lot of books I read so that is no big tragedy. I am still mulling over these words of Byron Katie's: "I have never experienced a stressful feeling that was not caused by attaching to an untrue thought". I am still undecided about her assertion that if I was hit or a victim when I was a child that I am responsible in some way either by complacency or active participation ..... hmmm, yeah, I am still digesting that one. Also she recommends we go to an enemy to ask them questions about ourselves because our enemy won’t try to <br />
<i>not</i> hurt our feelings and that enemy will be brutally honest with us, more honest than our friends who will say only good things. I am not sure if I can feel comfortable with this concept yet because in my experience I have a story inside that tells me that my enemy will take advantage and deliberately try to find ways to hurt me with their words and then I will have a compounded mess.<br />
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< Here is just a small sample of what I did like : Ms Katie asserts that "every time we are hurt or bothered by what someone says or does we should look deep inside for the truth and why it hurts", now that is an idea that is worth exploring and putting into practice. I also believe as Ms. Byron discusses in her book that we need to be in the moment of <br />
<b>now</b> and not carry our past into the present nor be distracted by the future. Byron makes a point about myths and superstitions we tell ourselves and believe in by stating that "young or old, we believe concepts that through inquiry are seen to be nothing more than superstitions" ... can you argue with that? Well, okay, you can argue all you want but if you do The Work you will soon discover that a lot of our underlying beliefs are what make us feel so miserable when life does not go according to the fairytale we have scripted out for ourselves. As I mentioned in the beginning of my blog there really is nothing new to self discovery within the pages of Byron Katie's book but what is new is that Ms Katie teaches the use of simple tools, four very basic questions and what she calls a "turn around" that facilitate our healing and acceptance of reality in the moment and of course Loving What Is.<br />
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< I would recommend this book for anyone who could use some lessons on how to give up or release or set free the thoughts that keep us pinned to suffering. I am giving this book to all my children but, BUT I am setting the stage for them and letting them know this book is not an adventure of juicy words that will keep them up late into the night reading. I will let them know from the moment I put this book into their hands that I am gifting them with a technical manual on how to love "what is" in life and how to be content within the present moment.<br />
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<Hugs,<br />
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<Maryanne<br />
</div>Recharging Creativity ~ Minetag:worldofwiffledust.com,2011-06-17:2870411:BlogPost:595572011-06-17T06:42:14.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
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I am not excused from losing my Umph. I am not excused from not finding fuel for my creative drive nor am I excused from times when my creative juices just don't flow. Nope, I am just as human as the next human standing in line for <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Artistic_inspiration"><i>inspiration</i></a>. Some days I feel like I am waiting for a special, unique, ordinary moment that <i>moves</i> me. I feel like I wait for that…
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I am not excused from losing my Umph. I am not excused from not finding fuel for my creative drive nor am I excused from times when my creative juices just don't flow. Nope, I am just as human as the next human standing in line for <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Artistic_inspiration"><i>inspiration</i></a>. Some days I feel like I am waiting for a special, unique, ordinary moment that <i>moves</i> me. I feel like I wait for that <i>something</i> inside me but that <i>something</i> is elusive. In my moments of feeling flat within, I know I really need my switch flipped to "on" so that my personal creative current flows unobstructed. I openly admit to experiencing days filled with long moments where I sit and stare at all my artsy, crafty objects/items/supplies and see absolutely nothing. I walk into my gardens and feel void of motivation to look for weeds or motivation to gently till the earth and the thought of dragging a hose is just too much to consider. I can't see ... zip or zilch or zippo or crapo! I see nothing! I can't make a decision about line or shade or color or a cut or a burn or a watering can ... I feel frozen inside. In those moments when I have lost my creative battery's charge all I know is I am not productive. I feel heavy inside. I feel like stagnate water void of movement within. I feel a sense of letting seconds slip through my life untouched and unused and we all know we can't bank our unused seconds. Darn it!<br/> In these empty moments I slowly become aware of the need to recharge my creativity and bust down the dam that is keeping my flow from flowing and blocking the path between my mind and the amazing selection of creativity offered by the Universe. What to do?<br/> What to do? When I become aware I am in the midst of a creative blockage (obvious by my lack of creativity!) I go soak in a wonderful hot bath imbued with herbs and salts.<br/>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> <span style="font-size: small;">I soak and relax. I let my body feel the wetness of the water and the tingly sensation of water that is almost to hot to be in. I submerge my body into liquid beauty and I slip under her surface and let her hold me ... I become weightless. I become void of the sensation of a heavy body and let the feeling of lightness of being help remove my blocks. As the <a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=148628105169604&set=a.147647838600964.23228.113200478712367&type=1&theater">salts penetrate my pores and the gentle aromatics of the herbs</a> waft their way to influencing my mind I feel my switch within flip back on. I feel my creative juices move again and by the time I am done soaking my body in the hot fragrant water I am filled with wonderful imagery. I feel renewed. I have story after story speaking to me. I see color and shadows and lines and textures and my plants sing to me again. </span></span> <span style="font-size: small;">I recharge my creativity submerged within.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hugs, </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Maryanne</span></div>Tending My Gardenstag:worldofwiffledust.com,2011-06-14:2870411:BlogPost:588392011-06-14T01:03:45.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
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In my yard, Crocus break through the Earth's crust and announce the imminent arrival of Spring and soon after the song of the Crocus, Dandelions join the chorus. I love Dandelions. Dandelions are versatile in that they provide beauty for our eyes to feast upon as well as lending their blossoms to becoming yummy <a href="http://www.texascooking.com/recipes/dandelionwine.htm">wine</a> and their petals and leaves add so <i>much</i> to <a href="http://fat-of-the-land.blogspot.com/2008/04/dandy-muffins-and-bread.html">breads</a> and <a href="http://allrecipes.com//Recipe/dandelion-salad/Detail.aspx">salads</a>. Yep, I love Dandelions, especially in my yard where I can celebrate their presence and appreciate the gifts of our earth. Dandelions are free food and I don't have to go anywhere to be served such bounty! That is a big wow! At least it is for me :-) I love to sit and observe the Dandelion's beautiful brilliant yellow flowers that attract newly emerged bugs. Dandelions inspire me to be creative because when I see their yellow heads erupting throughout my yard I want to cook, I want to paint, I want to plant, I want to dance ... I just want to celebrate Spring's arrival and sing along with the Dandelions!<br/> <br/>
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I love Springtime. Spring is when Mother Nature shows off her talent for creating beauty out of the smallest of small packages ... seeds. My creative urges are like seeds within me and when Springtime rolls around I am filled with beautiful imagery of all the <i>things</i> I want to create or grow. For my creative seeds to produce I nurture them just as I tend to my newly planted vegetable seeds. I have many different types of gardens. I have vegetable gardens, and flower gardens, and gourd gardens and paint gardens and gardens of beads and gardens of plastic bags I am crocheting into totes and gardens of books and journals. I enjoy tending to my gardens. I enjoy nurturing my seeds tucked within the loving soil of my heart and soul and I enjoy tending to the the seeds I've tucked into the earth's womb. Today, I transplanted more sweet peas and long beans and lettuce and spinach and beets. I dug into the earth with my fingers and created cradles to receive plant starts that Mother Nature and I have been tending for several weeks. I blessed the baby greens as I patted the soil around their roots and blessed the opportunity to participate with Mother Nature to produce a garden that will nourish me and my family. And I noted that without asking or coaxing my property will produce for our family a copious supply of Dandelions this season.The nourishment I receive goes beyond what vitamins and minerals my body ingest at harvest time. I will be filled with soul-ishous nourishment knowing that I am one with my Mother the earth and that I am loved by her because I am one of her creations that sprang from a seed :-)<br/> <br/>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ck-6yPFKAmY/TbS5VIvoBhI/AAAAAAAAADs/Lbp_96el2jM/s1600/P8210532.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ck-6yPFKAmY/TbS5VIvoBhI/AAAAAAAAADs/Lbp_96el2jM/s320/P8210532.JPG" border="0" height="281" width="320"/></a></div>Loving What Is IS a Choretag:worldofwiffledust.com,2011-06-14:2870411:BlogPost:589442011-06-14T01:01:08.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">(<a href="http://www.collectibles-articles.com/antique/Albumen-Photo-Victorian-SLEEPING-GIRL-Book-Candle_310299911642.html">http://www.collectibles-articles.com/antique/Albumen-Photo-Victorian-SLEEPING-GIRL-Book-Candle_310299911642.html</a>)</span></div>
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<br/> Yes I said I would be reading books from my list of must read books. I am reading or rather trying to read books that I have never cracked open or after reading a few lines put down due to distractions of life, or pure boredom with the book. I am trying, really I am. I carry with me,wherever I go, the first book on my list, <i>Loving What Is</i> by Byron Katie. I am reading this book but having difficulty with my interest level. I like her message of examining our thoughts and how to rid our musings of what is not healthy. I agree that we can chose to not waste our time thinking about stories that we create based on little fibs we tell ourselves. I don't have a problem with her self discovery and I don't have a problem with learning about what she learned on the floor of a half-way house she was living in. I am always eager to integrate into my own self examination processes new perspectives. I do have a problem with her use of endearments with her subjects/clients and I do have a problem reading miles and miles and miles of repetitive dialog. Well, maybe there are not miles of repetitive dialog but it sure feels like it! <br/> I will continue to honor my commitment to myself and I will continue to read this book. I will read and re-read because while reading I forget what I am reading because I have no interest. I cheated and flipped through the pages and discovered there are a few places in the book void of dialog sharing. I am hoping that those little oasis of words will bring me back to a more positive attitude about this book. I hope. I long for. I pray. I want. I desire. In the meantime, between my agonizing moments of making myself read this book I will liven up my life with exciting moments of creativity!<br/> <br/> Hugs,<br/> MaryanneReading Adventure # 1 ... Loving What Is ~ a book by Byron Katietag:worldofwiffledust.com,2011-05-26:2870411:BlogPost:550612011-05-26T00:56:57.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
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<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><p><font size="3">I put Ms. Katie's book down, on top of my nightstand only to be distracted by another book that I just had to have and well, soon <i>Loving What Is</i> became the fourth book down in a pile of what I call good intention. I must eat a few words from my earlier blog ... I had stated that I bought all the books I own but in truth I receive many books as gifts from those who know how much I love books. Not everyone knows what books I have or don't have and subsequently my husband and mother-in-love have gifted me with four copies of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Celestine_Prophecy"><i>The Celestine Prophecy</i></a>; need a copy?</font></p>
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<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><p><font size="3">Back to Byron Katie's book, <i>Loving What Is</i>. I intended to begin reading the books on my list starting on the 9th of March only to fail. I failed first due to personal reasons and then on the 11th of March our world was shook up through the tragedy that fell upon Japan. I became glued to the news like a tick on a country dog. One day melted into the next with current news always trumping the news from the day before. I became a victim by opening myself to the chaos of the world ... I could not <b>not</b> watch the news! I eventually realized I was beyond extremely upset, and overly emotional. I was a wreck. I was suffering from the after effects of a 9.0 earthquake with a devastating life changing tsunami and a war in Libya. Ugh! Today, my heart cannot absorb anymore commentary about people dying. I don't want to hear over and over and over the same story about nuclear reactive fallout. I am unhinged over political agendas that keep changing quicker than the direction of the winds. Now is a good time to back away from the news and put my nose in a book; seriously.</font> <font face=""Trebuchet MS",sans-serif" size="3">But, before the earth shook and before the ocean breached her shoreline and before the <a href="http://www.google.com/search?q=Libyan+no+fly+zone&ie=utf-8&oe=utf-8&aq=t&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a#q=Libyan+no+fly+zone&hl=en&client=firefox-a&hs=WSZ&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&prmd=ivnsu&source=univ&tbs=nws:1&tbo=u&sa=X&ei=tFyJTbct9I7RAc-jnYIO&ved=0CDcQqAI&fp=9317ce162f40b3a4">NFZ</a> I did put Ms. Katie's book in my purse with good intention of reading. Intention of reading a lot more than I did. With <i>Loving What Is</i> in my purse I can steal a word, a sentence, a paragraph here and there. I would read and do read when I have a few extra moments between running errands and being a taxi cab for family members. On each page I read I make notes to not only help me absorb the information being shared but notes to jog my memory when retelling of my adventure between the pages of <i>Loving What Is</i>. As of today, 22nd of March, I am proud to report I have managed to make it through the introduction. At the same time that I am proud of my literary accomplishment I am also acutely aware of how much time I have wasted because of distraction and fear. Today I also announced to my family I am on vacation from the news ... not that I don't have compassion and empathy for the suffering of my global sisters and brothers because I do. In truth I am disconnecting from the news of the outside world because I have to, I need to, I want to. I am taking a hiatus from being worldly informed because I <b>feel</b> so much. I am a wreck emotionally, mentally and physically. I need to nourish my heart and soul and give myself time to soften. I need to relax, to not get carried away emotionally tangled up in news stories I read about and supposed news stories I hear coming from the mouths of talking heads. I need to <b>live</b> <b>my</b> <b>life</b> and not neglect my spirit in this present moment of the here and now of where I live.</font></p>
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<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><p><font face=""Trebuchet MS",sans-serif" size="3">As I write this evening I am thinking, "why have I not attended to what makes me happy for so long?" I don't have an answer. What I have, in this moment is the awareness of the beautiful feeling that comes from doing what makes me happy. Reading a book makes me happy.</font> <font size="3">Writing makes me happy. Working with my gourds and giving expression to my creativity makes me happy. So, in order for me to get back to <i>Loving What Is</i> I will close for tonight with a quote I discovered on page vii of the introduction.</font></p>
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<blockquote style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><p><font size="3">"The more clearly you understand yourself and your emotions, the more you become a lover of what is." ~ <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baruch_Spinoza">Baruch Spinoza</a></font></p>
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<p><font size="3"><font face=""Trebuchet MS",sans-serif">I believe in synchronicity and the fact that I am reading this particular book at this particular time for me, is one of those events. Or so I think ...</font></font></p>
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<p><font size="3"><font face=""Trebuchet MS",sans-serif">Hugs,</font></font></p>
<p><font size="3"><font face=""Trebuchet MS",sans-serif">Maryanne</font></font></p>Patitence Producestag:worldofwiffledust.com,2011-05-20:2870411:BlogPost:545592011-05-20T23:08:32.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
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<span style="font-family: comic sans ms,sans-serif;" class="font-size-3">I celebrate each second that I am aware of. For me, awareness is being engaged in life as fully as possible while appreciating the little things and being in awe of bigger things. Life itself, I have to believe, is not aware of each second that passes. Life just <i>is</i> whatever it is <i>expressing</i> without the silly construct of time. Only us silly humans cripple our experience by measuring what we do or don't do in a race with the clock. If we fail to produce within a certain amount of "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Time">time</a>" then we tell ourselves (or other people tell us) that we are too late and that judgment of lateness colors our experience with ugly dark messy crayons. I received a gentle reminder this week that time, or at least my sense of time, can interfere with my own ability to produce or create. I was filled with self imposed stress while at the same time, I was also filled with the awareness that I have a choice to create without giving in to stress. I don't like the feeling that I must produce or manifest something within the constraints of my own construct of time that tics off seconds like boulders falling on my head. Without intention I had put myself in the clock's box and began to perform like a racing dog chasing a faux furry critter on a stick. Not good.</span><br/>
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<p><span style="font-family: comic sans ms,sans-serif;" class="font-size-3">I received a phone call in the early morning hours (the awareness of time) from my mother. My mother lives with me. My mother has a bedroom down the hall from my bedroom. My mom called me on my cell phone using her cell phone and when I answered her only words were; "Mary, come here" ~ click ~ the phone went silent. I already knew before my feet hit the floor what the day was serving. Within an hour my mom was uncomfortably smushed (my word) atop a gurney in an emergency room and she was being grilled with the same questions over and over and over. Questions like, "your name is?" and "you were born when?" and for the hundredth time, "what are your allergies?" and these questions came in addition to the question asked by every person entering the room, "what brought you to the hospital today?" As I watched the clock in the emergency room I felt agony and frustration filling my body starting at my toes. Soon, after the first 45 minutes I was ankle deep in anxiety. I was chest deep in fear for my mom's condition. On the less than perfect side of who I am there was also the frustration for my day not playing out the way I had designed it the evening before going to sleep. I visualized before going to dreamland all the beads I would be making when I awakened and the gourd designs I would be working on and the planting of my vegetable starts into my garden and ......... I didn't visualize my mom having a health crisis.</span> <br/></p>
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<p><span style="font-family: comic sans ms,sans-serif;" class="font-size-3">With intention I willed myself into deploying patience within my being and I let go and embraced the moment we were in (one after another). I let go of all my expectations for my day and for my mom's day. I surrendered to life and to just being with what we were being served. I knew my beads would be just fine and that my gourds would not cop an attitude. I felt my baby plants were just being little plants and knew the stress of caring was my own projection. My vegetable starts were not going to be mad at me for not putting them into the ground on a certain day. I witnessed my mother letting go also and embracing the fact that the doctors and nurses and aides and techs were there to help her. I witnessed myself opening my tightly clenched need to control and micro manage my immediate environment and hand over (symbolically) my mother to those who could help her. Patience was the operative word, and our patience produced a beautiful outcome. With technology and quick action my mom did not suffer a major heart attack. Nope, instead she became the recipient of a <a href="http://www.reshealth.org/yourhealth/healthinfo/default.cfm?pageID=P06445">cardiac stent</a> ... a stent that will increase the quality of her life. A stent that also lets me relax into a deeper understanding of faith and trust and the results of patience.</span></p>
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<div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">(Image from Resurrection Health Care website)</span></i></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: comic sans ms,sans-serif;" class="font-size-3">So, what does my mom's health crisis have to do with creativity and time? A lot. Just think of all the beautiful creative energy that helped develop the balloon catheter needed to expand my mom's cardiac artery enough to receive a stent. Wow! I make beads from magazines and I cut and burn and paint on gourds. I plant some plants and get creative in the kitchen with the harvest. Create a stent? Think of all that is needed to develop a balloon that is small enough and strong enough to help expand a stricture within a vessel. I will say <i><b>WOW</b></i> again. It takes patience with ourselves, and patience with others and patience with our sense of time to produce anything of value. I am not talking about value in relation to dollars. I am speaking of value of personal satisfaction, the value of adding to the beauty of life, the value of being all we can be, the value of letting go and trusting life. Value. The value of knowing that if we can open our <a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/proverbial">proverbial</a> fist, if we can open our hearts, if we can open our narrow thoughts to letting in who knows what, we can experience life to its fullest. As a side to letting ourselves experience the wonderful harvest of having patience we can experience the amazing wonders of technology that enables our loved ones and often times our own selves to be around this big blue marble a bit longer. Patience does produce more than we can imagine.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: comic sans ms,sans-serif;" class="font-size-3">Hugs,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: comic sans ms,sans-serif;" class="font-size-3">Maryanne</span></div>Book List Number One, Day One ... Nightstand Collectiontag:worldofwiffledust.com,2011-05-17:2870411:BlogPost:543262011-05-17T05:55:14.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
<div> As I considered the wonderful task of reading all my unread treasures I was overwhelmed with just where to begin. Do I start making my list by going through all my bookcases, or going through the books all neatly lined up on the floor in my office or? My head was just numb with too much thinking and not enough doing. I took the thought of making a list and parked it in the back of my mind and crawled into bed. That is where the proverbial light bulb went off. I reached towards my…</div>
<div> As I considered the wonderful task of reading all my unread treasures I was overwhelmed with just where to begin. Do I start making my list by going through all my bookcases, or going through the books all neatly lined up on the floor in my office or? My head was just numb with too much thinking and not enough doing. I took the thought of making a list and parked it in the back of my mind and crawled into bed. That is where the proverbial light bulb went off. I reached towards my nightstand and there before me was my answer. I decided to start where the biggest display of good intentions of reading could be seen. I am starting my list of “must read books” comprised from the books on my nightstand and in my nightstand and under my nightstand. I found a tablet, grabbed a gel pen (my favorite writing tool) and thought I was going to jot down just a few books and get all motivated and then in the morning I could go on to a bookcase. I am shocked. I am truly surprised by how many books I put on my list just from the small area next to my bed. After making the list of books that I found in and on and under my nightstand I realized I have a list that will take me at least a month or more to complete. I re-discovered 13 books! Holy Crap! This is going to be a bigger adventure than I originally thought. This particular blog may go on well into my elder years of my 70's and beyond!</div>
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<div>Book List Number One.Nightstand Collection of books to be read:</div>
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<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">4. </span></div>
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<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> 5. </span></div>
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<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> 6. </span></div>
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<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> 7. </span></div>
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<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> 8.</span></div>
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<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> 9. </span></div>
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<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> 10.</span></div>
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<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> 11.</span></div>
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<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> 12.</span></div>
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<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> 13.</span></div>
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<div> I am looking forward to reading these 13 books. I bought them because I want to read them and now by going public I have made a commitment beyond my own private world where I can be lazy and pile up all my good intentions like my unread books. Tomorrow I will begin in earnest, at the top of my list. I will have a reading affair with Byron Katie and share my adventure.</div>
<div>Hugs,</div>
<div>Maryanne </div>
<div>(I always sign off with hugs because a hug brings us together heart to heart with one another. Think about it the next time you hug another soul ... you are heart to heart and that is a beautiful action of trust and sharing of ones self)</div>A Joyful Creationtag:worldofwiffledust.com,2011-05-16:2870411:BlogPost:542602011-05-16T16:18:57.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="font-size-3">"This <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Collage">collage</a> is me embracing the flower of life. I own every single petal. I own every twisting root. I own every part of who I am. I know I deserve all the joys life holds for each of us. I celebrate in expressing my soul through my art and I own my birthright of Power in a way that only God, The Goddess, The Intelligent Universe understands. I joyfully create and I am filled with gratitude." That was my statement describing my collage when I submitted it to those who were sharing my experience in a class. I am grateful for being pulled up and out of my hardened shell of denial, of my love of translating what I see inside me to an outside experience.</span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="font-size-3">Reconnecting to my creative side is a long journey for me. A journey through over grown paths deep inside my heart and paths hidden in the convolutions of gray matter. Through the years I let my heart and soul become overgrown with a seriousness that built a wall between my self and me. Sounds a bit odd but in truth I gave up so much of my creative spark opting to experience the world through the eyes of an analytical left brained linear thinking entity and demoted my creative adventures to inconsequential events that just happened now and then ... like 70 <a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2065249&id=1288939600">gourds</a> that desperately needed to be rubbed and cleaned and etched and painted :-) I am out of the left brained closet and taking up residence in my whole brain ... or at least giving myself permission to be and express who and what I am without any apologies. </span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="font-size-3">I don't collage that much, but through the course of creating 11 in three months I fanned my spark of passion for art into a wonderfully warm flame. There are so many venues for any of us to give life to our creative side. We can do collage, paint, draw, make beads, sculpt, garden, cook, sing, dance, laugh, be silly and just give wildly delicious and messy expression to all the joy we feel or all the angst we are bogged down in.</span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: red; text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: xx-small;">Free hand drawing of a design onto a gourd bowl that I am currently playing with.</span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="font-size-3">I am wild and all over the place. I am cutting out images for another collage. I am drawing my twisty vines onto a gourd for a beautiful soul in California. I am cutting strips of paper for paper beads and I am starting my garden. I am exploding!</span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="font-size-3">I can't look at anything without wondering what I can make with it or how I can enhance it. I see myself as a work of art also and feel giddy about all the wonderful creative expressions I can wear or how I can reshape my body or how I can enhance my eyes and hair and the list goes on. I stopped lying to myself and everyone else about jewelery, the lie that I don't really like it. I have claimed to not like the 'stuff' too much but now I want to be a musical instrument when my body moves. I want my bangle bracelets to bangle around and my rings to clink. I want my beads to decorate my body and tell those who look upon me that I am a walking work of art :-)</span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="font-size-3">Life is art ... have I not heard that statement before? I like the statement; Creative Expression gives joy to Life and gives expression to our natural inclination to create, to make, to manifest. We all take joy in being a force that produces something of beauty; even if that beauty is green and growing or diced up and sauteing in a pan. Beauty expressed gives life to our heart and soul and makes our minutes here on this big beautiful globe all the more interesting.</span> </div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: red; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">The start of something big and beautiful and delicious.</span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="font-size-3">And so I sow my many seeds into fertile soil. I tend to my seedlings and provide what is necessary for the seeds to burst open letting their creative spark create. I feel like one of my seeds in one of my peat pots. I feel the warmth and moisture of creativity. I am a Joyful Creation.</span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="font-size-3">Hugs,</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="font-size-3">Maryanne</span></div>Complex Cognitive Process of Decoding Symbols A.K.A. Readingtag:worldofwiffledust.com,2011-05-06:2870411:BlogPost:520552011-05-06T18:21:59.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
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<div><p><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"><font> </font> I love books. I especially love <i>my</i> books. I love books so much that through the years I have amassed an extensive personal home library. My library fills two bookcases in my bedroom, two bookcases in my office, a huge bookcase in a spare bedroom and two very tall bookcases in…</span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"><font> </font> I love books. I especially love <i>my</i> books. I love books so much that through the years I have amassed an extensive personal home library. My library fills two bookcases in my bedroom, two bookcases in my office, a huge bookcase in a spare bedroom and two very tall bookcases in the basement. My books overflow onto the floor where they are neatly lined up all along the walls of my office then across to the open shelves where books are two to three deep and two high. I have books under my bed, in my nightstand, under my dresser, in my car and in my clothes closet. Many of my books provided me with hours of escape into their pages and many of my books have yet to be explored … I have a lot of books I have not read … yet.</span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"><font> </font> Each time I buy a book it is with good intention of consuming the words within it and absorbing knowledge or receiving affirmations of my own beliefs or escaping into someone else’s world. <font> </font>I buy books that are recommended to me. I buy books that look interesting. I buy books that are required for my continuing education course work. I buy books because a friend or a friend of a friend is the author. And, I can say I buy books because the act of buying a book brings me joy. I feel good when I receive a new book in the mail. I get excited when I am standing in a bookstore looking around at all the possibilities waiting for me. I buy books because it is one of my ways of feeling good in a world that at times does not feel so good. The written word conveys stories that otherwise would be lost and the written word transmits through symbols knowledge that I otherwise would not receive. It would be an under statement to suggest that I love to read, I love to read and re-read <i>my</i> books. <font> </font>Books are just plain cool.<font> </font></span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"><font> </font> As I dusted my books in preparation for a gathering at our home I became overwhelmed with awareness of books I have yet to explore. As I carefully dusted the bindings and top edges of my books pages I thought about the definition of the word <i>reading</i>. I never looked up the meaning of the word read before because I know how to read! But, if I were to tell someone what reading was I found that I fell short in how to describe this beautiful gift we can be taught to possess.</span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;">So, I went straight to my favorite source. Using my computer I pulled up Wikipedia and typed in <i>reading</i>; this is what I discovered.</span></p>
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<p>'Reading' is a complex <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cognitive_process" class="mw-redirect" title="Cognitive process">cognitive process</a> of decoding <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symbols" class="mw-redirect" title="Symbols">symbols</a> for the intention of constructing or deriving meaning (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reading_comprehension">reading comprehension</a>). It is the mastery of basic cognitive processes to the point where they are automatic so that attention is freed for the analysis of meaning.</p>
<p><b>Reading</b> is a means of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Language_acquisition">language acquisition</a>, of communication, and of sharing <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Information">information</a> and ideas. Like all language, it is a complex interaction between the text and the reader which is shaped by the reader’s prior knowledge, experiences, attitude, and language community which is culturally and socially situated. The reading process requires continuous practices, development, and refinement.</p>
<p>Readers use a variety of reading strategies to assist with decoding (to translate symbols into sounds or visual representations of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Speech">speech</a>) and comprehension. Readers may use <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Morpheme">morpheme</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Semantics">semantics</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Syntax">syntax</a> and context clues to identify the meaning of unknown words. Readers integrate the words they have read into their existing framework of knowledge or schema (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schemata_theory" class="mw-redirect" title="Schemata theory">schemata theory</a>).</p>
<p>Other types of reading are not speech based <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Writing_system" title="Writing system">writing systems</a>, such as music <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Musical_notation" title="Musical notation">notation</a> or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pictograms" class="mw-redirect" title="Pictograms">pictograms</a>. The common link is the interpretation of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symbols" class="mw-redirect" title="Symbols">symbols</a> to extract the meaning from the visual notations.</p>
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<p><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"><sup><font> </font></sup> Well, now I can say I not only know how to read English I now truly know the meaning of the word <i>read</i>. And reading revealed this beautiful piece of information to me. I am in awe. Now, back to my books. As I stated I own many books that I have not even cracked open yet. I feel like I need to be on one of those crazy reality shows and my show could be all about buying books with intentions of reading them but never doing so. I have unread books because I let life and all its dramas distract me. I have let apathy replace my passion and I am so done with apathy that I am striking out that word
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</strike> in my personal vocabulary. I decided to challenge myself. I resolved to put some fuel on my reading embers. I am choosing to fan my flames of desire and love of reading. I am making a list of every book I own that I have not read and I will blog about this adventure of mine. My book list will have no special priority or agenda. I am going to start in my bedroom and then work my way through my house (and car!) and list every title of every book I own that is in waiting. I will blog about each book I read and share with everyone my thoughts and my excitement of accomplishing what I have wanted to do for so long. Most of my books are about spirituality and there are some books that I know I bought years ago but have forgotten so I really don’t know in this moment what titles are going to be on my list. I am excited.</span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"><font> </font> Maybe, if you follow this blog you will catch the bug of inspiration and tackle something you have a passion for but have let life and its adventures distract you from doing what you love. That’s my story and I am changing it.</span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;">I also discovered that books can be more than a conveyor or thoughts. Books can be turned into works of art. </span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"><a target="_self" href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403870337?profile=original"><img class="align-center" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/403870337?profile=original" width="150"></a></span><span class="font-size-1">(Image from Brian Dettmer's Web site: <a href="http://briandettmer.com/">http://briandettmer.com/</a>)</span><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;">Treat yourself and follow this link:</span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://briandettmer.com/">http://briandettmer.com/</a></span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;">Hugs,</span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;">Maryanne </span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"><sup>1</sup>I often use Wikipedia to look up information. I find the experience very enjoyable and much preferred to on-line dictionaries that are laden with ads. <font> </font>Here is the link to the Wiki page I quoted from.<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reading_%28process%29" target="_blank">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reading_%28process%29</a></span></p>
</div>Pushing Up and Outtag:worldofwiffledust.com,2011-05-05:2870411:BlogPost:522372011-05-05T00:10:37.000ZMaryanne Mesplehttp://worldofwiffledust.com/profile/MaryanneMesple
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<p><span style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" class="font-size-3"><font size="3"> Spring 2011 has arrived. Green grasses are taking over the earth's brown, prickly blanket of sleeping vegetation. I love witnessing the awakening and spreading of the color green. Green; the color and promise of life and a gift for my eyes to feast upon. Seeing the greens of plant life bursting forth excites me and inspires me. I want to feel the rush of Spring time energy course through my body, awaken my dormant energy cells and push me up and out of my lethargic wintery sleeping</font> excuse for a body. I want to exude the color green!</span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"> With emergence from my winter shell I feel a surge of creative inspiration that yanks at me from many directions. Where do I focus? Does one path of creative expression entice me more than another? No. I need to put my hands into and upon any and all mediums that nourish my spark with life affirming experience and manifestation. My agenda is big and I feel so small and at the same time I feel immense. Perhaps I am but a blade of newly emerging grass and by season's end I will be a field of tall waving seed heads sowing the earth's womb with kisses and a commitment of life continued? Perhaps.</span></p>
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<p><span style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" class="font-size-3"> I will stand in the sun and absorb all his loving, life giving energy and then I will transfer that energy into creating my personal joy. I write. I paint. I draw. I collage. I wrestle with gourds and etch them with wood burning tips and cut them with jigsaws and then paint them until they reflect me upon their hard shells. I roll strips of paper into beads and gloss them and string them along until they scream stop! and I see beautiful, wearable creativity. I garden with hands and on knees and I sow seeds and tend to my garden's growth as a mother tends to her children in the nursery. I harvest the earths creations, then I create in the kitchen. My list is long. My desire is burning. My hands are itching. My mental imagery is delicious ... perfectly suited for my taste.</span></p>
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<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" class="font-size-3">I've so much to do, to produce, to experience, to enjoy ....</span></p>
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<p style="text-align: center;"> <span class="font-size-1">(photo by Maryanne Mesplé. <em>Gourd in Midnight Blue</em>)</span></p>