where creative minds can interact
(image compliments of Google Images)
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 excuse for a body. I want to exude the color green!
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.
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.
I've so much to do, to produce, to experience, to enjoy ....
(photo by Maryanne Mesplé. Gourd in Midnight Blue)