Every artist I know works HARD to be seen and to survive. Easy Street isn't even on our GPS.
When you support an Independent Artist, you are spreading joy!
Today is 25% off Greeting Cards. Suitable for framing.
The ability to create is a gift given to us as human beings.With our hands, hearts, minds, and skill we are able to fabricate and bring forth things of beauty and goodness . . . or, things that are not. We do well when we determine to use our creativity for good, and refuse to employ it for evil.
Many creative projects demand that we give them time and attention. And why not? When we're doing something that interests us, why rush through it? The very act of creating provides as much satisfaction as the finished product.
The holiday season can be an insanely busy one, or it can be one in which we joyfully immerse ourselves in the lights and color and songs and festivities. Most likely we'll do a little of both, or something in between. May the upcoming holiday season be filled with moments of quiet joy and reflection.
There's no such thing as "just a weed," although for someone whose goal is a pristine, golf-course looking lawn, a number of plants are unwelcome. But out in the country where Nature rules, every plant has its purpose and unique beauty. No "just a's" about it.
Through books and their stories we pass on wisdom from one generation to the next. We are not stuck with the voices of today, but rather, can peruse the words and thoughts of many, many people who lived, and thought, and questioned before us.
We have the opportunity every day to do small, simple tasks -- from brushing our hair to putting on our socks -- and to take time doing them with a sense of thought and calm. Or, we can rush through them, on to the next task. But that's only if we want to live our lives always, always in a hurry.
In the distance, the lights of the coastal city twinkled and glowed, casting the veriest reflection on the water. While up above, the full moon bathed the seascape in its silver luminescence. Warm and cool, both contributed their magic.
On a warm summer day, she grabbed her book and headed to the park. In a quiet, isolated spot, she lay down in the grass and spent hours absorbed in a world of interest and intrigue, one that inspired thought and wonder, and not fear.
A family lived there, filling the hallways with the sounds of children's feet -- running, stomping, tip-toeing, dancing, leaping, walking, jumping. And the house glowed with joy.