Wednesday, March 23
This color orange.
And little worn.
Sometimes redneck shocking.
Late 60's model frocking.
But primitive and powerful enough to play
That perfect part which God has chosen.
Indespensible in green grassed palette.
Irresistible in Van Gogh's guise.
There's a reason it has no rhyme.
Thursday, March 17
Another all-green potluck on St. Patrick's Day at work. This time including a special guest or two. Barb and Angel brought broccoli salad to add to the mix. Angel was her typical self, including two nicely timed loud burps as Roberta was giving a little speech about a recent corporate meeting. Now where did she learn that, Barbara!?
And to shed some light on the real Patrick. He wasn't Irish, but born in N.W. England in the late 4th century and kidnapped by pirate slave traders at 16 to become a slave in Northern Ireland. He didn't shoo all the snakes out of the country. And he wasn't a Roman Catholic (which is one reason why he's never been canonized by the Church).
But 6 years later he escaped on a ship and eventually returned to his family. 20 years after this he dreamed the people of Ireland (whom he'd always thought about with compassion) were calling him to come back. He took this as a sign from God and set out for the challenge.
He won the hearts of people as he preached the true Gospel of Christ. The formerly pagan (Druid) nation turned to a believing nation as over 160,000 people converted to Christianity. He founded 300 churches. That's about all I know off the top of my head.
Monday, March 14
"Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD.
The fruit of the womb is a reward.
Like arrows in the hand of a warrior,
So are the children of one's youth.
Happy is the man who has his quiver full of them.
They shall not be ashamed,
But shall speak with their enemies in the gate."
Our only begotten has herself an only begotten.
Her name is Angel. Almost 5, she is now becoming
the little lady/tomgirl person. She has a bad lisp.
She likes dirt, snails and SpongeBob. She hates
roast beef and macaroni. She likes to draw and try
her hand on the computer.
Her life isn't as normal as it sounds, though, thanks
to a divorce. But God has so worked and will
work to bring about the best for this little one who
can't yet tie her shoes or read a book.
Did someone pray for you when you were growing up?
You need to thank them.
Saturday, March 5
In the quest for collecting unusual and unique expressions, my adventures lead me through a labyrinth of faces --- usually at the flea market, where sometimes is found an original piece of face art. These horribly artless forms find their way from ceramic or sculpting classes to garage sales to storage units to their not quite last stop --- the flea market.
I like the originality and simplicity of expression. I like to boldness and kindergarten-like imagination that goes into each one. They are especially neat when they're signed and dated. Destined to end up in a landfill, I'm letting them have a safe home before that dreadful day arrives.
Any ideas on what to do with them? Oh, yes, I immediately shaved this yarn-haired head when I got home.
Color is a wonderful thing. So is humor. Mix them and try not to be jealous of this guy's predicament as he's surrounded by long-maned toothpick-like Barbies. I don't think kids enjoy playing with these hard bodies. There are zillions of them for sale here.