The Painter, The Artist And The Writer

I am an artist.  Yet I don’t hold a brush.  You will never see any paintings from me nor any doodle art.  No napkin drawings with folded edges.

I am a writer. I have a pen in one hand.  You will find me on my computer or writing on a pad of paper –  scrapes of little bits of me here and there.

Lately I have noticed a few odd and wonderful moments when I wish I could take a picture or at least paint.  I always wanted to draw.  My drawing talent is a stick man with no neck and the whole image is oddly and slightly off.  Sometimes I pretend I could draw.   In my mind’s eye a pen is used by a professional artist (me) and the strokes I leave behind are equal to the greatest painters of all time!

As a painter or an artist you can see the end results.  The picture that took hours to paint is finally shown on a wall with the ‘right’ lights.   To sell this kind of art form is a bit easier than trying to sell our words.  The public views a painted picture.  Someone likes it or not, if they do they buy it.  The price is set by the time the artist takes, the supplies it took to make and anything else.  The buyer whips open his pocket-book and produces a cheque and writes the amount on it.  Sale is finished!

I wish it was as simple for a writer like myself.  I find that the written word is much different to everyone.  Some like my work, others don’t.  There is no word gallery where my pieces are put on the wall by wine drinking professionals.  Some of my friends don’t even read my blog, I hope others do! 

I feel like I need to prove myself much more than any other artist.  Maybe I am not an artist?  Is that the right word to use? Writer = Artist?? 

I still would like to carry my camera around and snap the esscent of an image.  I know people who can.  Their pictures come alive in front of your eyes.  Me, you can see me sometimes trying to take a picture of a branch of a tree or a flower from a weird position.  You can find me lying on my side or on my back.  I am trying to take the ‘perfect’ picture! 

 So, if you see a female hanging up-side down from a limb of a branch attached to a tree, don’t worry!  It is just me trying to take the ‘perfect’ picture!  If you feel the need to do, stop and say ‘hi’

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Nature is a Male!

Years ago I was a long haul truck driver.  I drove all over North America.  I have over half a million miles behind me.  I trained 3 males on how to drive the mountains on the west coast.  I did this job for 9 years.  Now I write.

In those 9 years, there was plenty of time while I was driving to think about life and some of the oddness of it all.  I would like to share some of my thoughts with you, right now.

I would wonder about certain things such as people and why do they say the things they do?  I would also think about certain events in my life.  Sometimes these two separate thoughts would join together, in my mind to bring out one brilliant idea!

An idea started by re-thinking this: I knew a girl in the hospital once who needed to get her ‘lazy eye’ fixed.  Her doctor took her eye-ball out of its socket and laid it on her cheek, while he did what he needed to do. 

I cannot forget this thought of her eye-ball and the thought of people speaking out, the idea formed.  What if we can ‘pop’ our eyes out of their sockets and replace them facing inwards?  Would you be able to read your thoughts before you say them?  Can or would the world change and be a better place to live in?  Maybe the rule that all parents tried to teach:  ‘think before you speak’ would really mean something? 

Ah, the stories between the sexes must have started when Adam was told about Eve.  Every generation has their jokes about the different stages of a women’s life cycle and the mind-less manners of the male form!

I have come to realize that G-d (Nature) needed to laugh out loud so he made us the same in many ways, But so different in others.  I think he enjoys the cosmic energy that comes off of us when two different but yet, the same species start to interact with each other.  When a male and a female get together and try to interact and the message gets lost and tangled up, that is when Nature sits back with a cold brew and laughs.  I believe that Nature made us like this, males do not understand females and guess what?  It is the same for females, we do not understand the males.  It is chemical you know!  It is Nature’s game for his amusement, instead of the Grey Cup!

Two other ideas have crossed my mind when driving.  This is a piece of thought that maybe some will get angry at.  Please, just read the whole column and then get angry if you must.

Nature, the thing that made us and our earth is male.  Yes he is and I can prove it.  Ladies come closer and males, you can stop grinning now!

Nature is a guy.  If Nature was a female than males would get ‘o-pause’ when they were at their best.  If males got ‘o-pause’, then they would have their body parts reach the ground instead of ours.  We females, would only worry about our nose and ear hairs!  That would be classified as a wonderful life for females!

Nature is a guy cause females get their monthly friend, instead of the males. Why did we get this fun activity?  And listen up males, she is not my friend, my true friends know my name!

Males get off the hook by not getting a monthly anything.  Nature is male because at the mid-life crisis age he goes out and buys a Corvette, usually a rosy red one.  Roof is down and the sunny weather just blows his hair, usually I see this as: roof is down and the sunny weather just blows his little wig off!  I am allowed to think that, oy, I have cramps!

The males rides off in their red new cars while us females are so hot, we are slowly starting to strip our clothes off.  Menopause is what we get instead of a little red thing.  Our body parts are sinking towards hell, some of us will have side effects to help us though this era.  The guys now will say, no worry, no babies!  no condoms needed! 

And during all of this, Nature is laughing!

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I Am A Writer, Are You?

What are we? Just different kinds of writers?

I am always looking for any writing experiences, lately for money.  The websites are many.  If place in a straight line, all the job websites for writers can go around the earth…..again and again!  That in itself is a mind bending thought!

I go to these sites and lo and behold it happens once again!  You may know that feeling as it creeps up your spine, till your fingers twist with rage and you need another glass of wine.  Welcome to the word game.  Remember it from last time, when you realized that you are not just a writer but a blank writer. 

A writer is just a writer, I thought.  That was before I put my first pen to paper and this writing world got real.  I never knew, I was totally innocent of all of these names!

There is the creative writer, blogger, screen writer, content or freelance writer.  Don’t forget the tech writer, editor/writer and the communication expert.  There are still more……. journalists, ghostwriters, article writers, columnists, copywriters and interviewer writer.  Should I see if there are more……..?  How about the poets and authors?

By now I think you get my draft?  So many kinds of writers and not enough time to be them all!  How to figure it all out?

Writing  to me is a kind of lifestyle.  It is a choice by me and the small tiny voice inside my head that wants to express itself, everyday and all day!  I believe that a writer needs to have a thick skin.  I believe a writer needs to be a great storyteller.  I believe that a writer needs to be learning all the time.  Learning to a writer is like ice cream to a cone.   How can anyone write anything if there is no new learning going on?  Learning is grammar.  To know a noun from a verb is a need to know.  A writer’s good friend is ‘spell check.’  To increase and pass on knowledge is a writer’s pledge.  Yes, a writer usually sees “The Big Picture,” no matter how big it is!

Writers I think, know that they have the special touch with a pen or computer key and even if we live to be 100, we all know that our position in life is to write.  Write what, is the question.

I looked up on-line, what does a person need to have to become a writer?  As you guessed, there are a lot of answers to this question.  I did try to cut it down to  3 points.  Talent– Learning– Diligence.  This is 3 points that I feel are needed to be able to put pen to paper.  Some other writers will hand you a list of different skills/traits and  personality types.  I believe that everything that a writer is fits under these 3 topics. 

As I re-read this so far, I am amazed that I didn’t answer my question yet?  A writer is a writer, true but there is more.  Yes talent and such is important but maybe the names are not?  Is it ok to be called a writer, not a content writer, blogger or such?  Maybe the titles are not important to a writer?  I have found that using a title like freelancer or content can confuse more people than the world’s weather right now!  So, maybe it is up to each writer to pick out their own names based on their experiences?  What do you want to be called?  But don’t totally listen to me because……..I am only a content…I am just…a……..freelanceer…….no….maybe…….grrrrrr……no..I am just a columni….st……………….grrrrrrrrr!!!!

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Where are my Thoughts and Creative Side?

Here I sit, staring straight at my computer screen in dire need of any thoughts.

Come out little thoughts of mine.  Dance into my mind’s eye for a second or for a full minute.  Please!  Don’t let me hang here like the last apple on the tree.  Let me get an idea of a topic to write about for this entry. 

I need to enter my brain and see whats up in there!  Maybe it needs just a small cleaning?  Maybe a summer drought hit it and it is full of wrinkles instead of ideas?   I am still waiting for a good thought!!  I wonder, if your mind can turn into something like a prune-like mass, if ideas stop coming?

Where is my creative ideas right now?  Where ever they are, they are not near my fingers.  Could they come out if I call them?   “Come out my sweetie, come out my sweets, let me play with my creative side now”  Nope, it didn’t work at all.

I am at a loss for words and ideas.  My creative side is gone, gone to someplace cooler than this 30+ c. weather, I bet.  My ideas, I think that the shelf that held them all just lost a nut?  Maybe my creative ideas and my thoughts joined hands and walked away from me?  I am still staring into a computer screen with no real image of anything to write about for today.  I search on line for ideas.  But I cannot find anything.  I stare at the screen and I realize one thing.  I need to dust!   Is this all?   

I stand up and do some stretching.  I sit back down.  Nothing new in my mind.  No fresh and crisp ideas that would make a reader cheer, think, disagree or for that matter, agree.  Nothing to challenge a mind-  yours my reader or mine.  I turn on the TV and change the channels for anything thing I can sink into.  Nothing really on except afternoon TV shows.  Talk shows, soap operas and other shows that don’t impress me.  “Oh, help me” I yell.  I raise my fist to the ceiling, hoping that an answer, a thought or a creative idea comes into my mind from somewhere.  Anywhere.  As long as it comes into my accepting mind.  “Come right in” I scream. 

Well I am been sitting in front of this screen for awhile.  I have done a lot to try to pull out my creative side and nothing is happening so far.  But yet…….

I just noticed I just finished writing about my lack of a topic.  Who knew when I started that this can be it’s own title.  I just hope this does not happen again!

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The Garden and It’s Harvest

It is a beautiful day out!

The sun isn’t shining, the birds are to busy eating worms to care about anything else.  It has been raining most of the day and I have this ‘happy place thing’ feeling.

What could this happy feeling come from, you ask?  Well, I will tell you.  I wish I could sing first.   I would write an opera for it, instead of writing all this on my blog, I would have famous opera singers, singing my feelings to the world, baring my soul to everyone.

  First, yesterday, picture it.  Focus on a picture of a garden with many garden plots that stand higher than the ground.  Look into your minds’ eye for the corner plot, not that one, the next one.  See where the beans and the peas plants are turning yellow?  That’s the plot!

The peas/beans might be turning yellow but did you notice the carrots are still growing?  All 5 of them!  The chives are doing fine but sometimes they look dead, while other times they looked like they grew over night!  I could tell your inner eye is glancing towards the two flowering plants, which are still in my plot.  My little story is about the plant I haven’t told you about yet..So here goes…

See the low strawberry plant?  I bet you can imagine the plant before your eyes, all the green-soon-to-be strawberry colour fruit.  That is right, my first little story is about me eating my first home-grown-strawberry-that-I-picked-from-my-own-garden! Yeah!  It was the biggest, juiciest and lush-est berry I ever had in my whole life!  The color was superb, the texture was like the goddess themselves touched it with their lips.  If I could have I would have put that berry under glass, to look at it for years!  My first home grown berry!

A few days ago in my garden I noticed I had tons of beans and peas.  Like the great gardener that Martha Stewart is, I pretended to know what to do.  I picked all the beans and peas.  I swear, there were tons to pick, I was there for at least 2 hours picking, picking and once more-picking.  I hope you are still following my adventures though your minds’ eye?

I put all of the beans into a bag and then I head off towards my home.  I place the peas and beans in a cool place and soon forgot about them.

Next Day…….

Once a month, my friend and I get together and go shopping.  We joke, we laugh, we sing and we have a fantastic time!  I told her about my garden and she was amazed that I have one.  She considers me not the nourishing type.

When she is about to leave my place, I brought out the bag of beans and peas and gave them to her.  I didn’t realize that I would feel so dam good for giving her some beans.

My garden will help to fed her family, what an amazing thought that is!  It lifted me so high, it wasn’t funny.  I realized then that my garden just wasn’t for me to relax in, but was a usable food producing plot of land.  I could feed hungry people with this plot.  What a feeling it gave me to hand over some beans to her, what utter joy it gave me.

I can’ really explain the massive feelings I got for my garden.  I didn’t really think I would get anything out of it except dirty finger nails.  I water it ever second day, I speak to the plants (when noone is around, I am not crazy, just plant happy)  I am learning about the soil, about winter planting and I am meeting so many new and exciting people.

This still can make a great opera!


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My Favorite Words!

I am a writer, words excite me.  They keep me up at night and they can lull me to sleep.  I love words that can unleash some emotion from my readers or from myself.

Fixins- The word is used instead of condiment, for hamburgers/hot dogs.  This word kinda just rolls off the tongue!  It makes me what to speak like a cigar smoking hill billy from the deep south!  I am gonna use some fixins to patch that hole in the wall, pass me some water to make a paste!

Some words give me energy.  To use them in writing and in speaking is like allowing me all the rope to hang myself.  But, knowing I will never go that far.

Creative- I love this word.  It lets me write and say the things I want too, in any way I want.

My passion for words include the different words to express my other passion, history.

The kinds of words to jump off the page for me are:

prehistory—pre man—historic—pre dawn—ancient mysteries—ancient—the dawn of man—cave paintings—thousands of years ago—music—first music—human culture—fossils—archaeology—national geographic magazine—nature—first animals—oldest—rift valley in africa—ethiopia—cradle of humanity—ancestors—east africa—evolution—hominid fossil—extinct

These are some of the words that pump my heart.  When I hear these words my ears perk up like a little toy poodle.

I wonder how it was back then for the first humans?  I try to bring that feeling of being into my mind.  To capture it.   To be one person in a small group like that.  Compare that to today, when we have people all over and it seems there isn’t anyone place to be alone and to be still.

Scientists say that all humans come from one female and everyone has the part of her in their DNA.  One of the reasons for this study is to see if that statement was true or not.  Blood was drawn from people all over this world, from the southern tip to the northern frozen land of Alert Bay.  The professionals say that we came from one female.  So in other words, you are really not my friend but my brother?

I still try to picture a group of people who are trying to eat things for the first time.  I try to see them drinking and communicating.  No matter how hard I try, the essence of the picture is not there.  That intense feeling is beyond me or maybe I need to click my heels three times and chant ‘I want to go home?’

I believe we all have our own favorite words or a phase we cherish.  When we hear them our ears go up like a greyhound ready to race.  Do I believe they give off certain powers?  No- that is why I use a strong morning anti-perspirant stick!

Instead of feeling that oneness of the past maybe I was given a gift of writing instead?  Maybe my job is to write about it, to draw out that emotion I cannot express in any other way?  If that is correct how cool is that? 

I wish now for a big neon sign in the sky, that has a flashy arrow pointing in the direction I need to go.  An arrow would be better than a loud voice and a burning bush!



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Lonesome George

I read a sad story today.  I read this story and then I wrote about it in my column, The Weird and Wonderful.

Lonesome George died this week.  On June 24th, 2012 he took his last breath. 

If you never heard of him or if his name rings a bell..Lonesome George was a tortoise.  His home was on Puerto Ayora Island, part of the Galapagos region.

He lived to be around 100 years old.  As a tortoise he looked much older.  It took two strong men to carry him out of  his home after he died.

Lonesome George was the last of the Pinta Island Tortoises.  Scientists have tried to get him to mate.  It never worked.  Maybe Lonesome George knew he was the last of his kind?

I never saw him in real life, but I have seen him on TV.  What a beautiful animal, so primitive, so perfect in all ways.  I would have love to follow him for a few hours.  I wonder if he was larger in person?

We do this all the time, don’t we?  We wish we got to it or seen it before it is gone, forever.  This is how I feel about this tortoise.  I really missed out on a special sight and a magical moment for me.  Don’t tell anyone but I would have liked to sit on his shell when he travelled!  What a way to see the island though his eyes. 

I felt like the earth lost something really important on that day.  Could it be that the tortoise linked me back to the dinosaur age?  Or could it be that earth doesn’t have many more huge tortoises like Lonesome George?

All I know is that Lonesome George was the last of his kind.  By dying he made the world poorer.  His species is now extinct.

Rest in Peace, Lonesome George.

Maybe there is a lesson in all of this?  Maybe we can realize that nothing lasts forever.  Go for your dreams.

I wished I saw this tortoise when he was breathing, but now I will never see him in person.  My loss.

If you have a chance to see or visit any new places with new foods, new animals and new and awe inspiring scenes, then go for it!  Live life to its full-est!

It is not to late!  Consider this:  we are still finding new species of animals in the jungles and surrending areas of Indonesia.  There are still mysteries to check out and animals to be awed over.

Maybe this is the lesson Lonesome George left us on June 24th, 2012?

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