Zibbet, Get It?

My new shop is at Zibbet.com! The Etsy shop will stay open until May 31 as previously stated. Only the Etsy shop has the 10% off discount, whose code is TTFN31.

Etsy Shop Closing

My Etsy shop will close at MIDNIGHT on May 31. Enter code TTFN31 before then for a 10% discount on ALL items in my store--clearing out the inventory before I head out. "Like" my Facebook page or follow me on Twitter to stay updated on where my online shop will open anew.

Etsy Sale

Local residents aren't the only ones to benefit from my April sale--until the end of April, ALL items in my Etsy store are 10% OFF! Enter coupon code APRIL10 to get 10% off your order! Time's flying, so don't miss out!

Behind the Scenes: Blog Stats and a Thank-You

I frequently use the hashtag #readersmakeithappen in my tweets relating to my blog. This blog does happen because of you. I took some screenshots of my stats so you can see one of the things that just make my day: knowing you're out there, reading my posts.

 This week...

Of all time, as of 12.9.11

 

 Most viewed posts this week...

Most viewed of all time as of 12.9.11

My traffic sources

And there you are, dear readers!

If I solely wanted to yammer on, "express myself," and demand someone pay devout attention to and understand me, I can hire a therapist for that. This blog is for you--an invitation to reflect on life under this sun with me, if only for a few minutes out of your busy day. To you who accepted that invitation, you have my gratitude.

Foundations I Art Class Project

Our professor assigned a folio project for our class. The first page requires us to answer the question "What is art?"
We can quote others if we wish, or we can write our own definitions. Here is mine.

Art results from the methods in which the artist may manipulate various materials in diverse styles — via color, form, and other sensorial elements and principles — to evoke specific emotional, intellectual, and/or physical responses from his or her audience,  be it admiration, fear, disgust, wonder, etc.

What do you think? Have I missed something? Or should it be narrowed down somewhat?

My Other Medium of Art

Words aren't the only paint I use. The other stories I string on wire.

A Moment of Thanksliving

Mine is this...my thanks to God for His gift of a humiliation.

An outstanding growth of character came from my Biology and Chemistry classes my first semester sophomore year. I've always been gifted in the area of English, words, and writing. I'm not bragging: I acknowledge it is a treasured gift from my Father. However, prior to the aforementioned semester, I esteemed my gift lightly--I had an unkind attitude towards others who weren't on the same level of understanding English as I was. I never spoke these things, but I would think, "Wow, you're stupid if you can't get this--what is wrong with you?! This is simple." During the course of that semester, I failed basically every Chem. and Bio. lab, quiz, and test--I studied, I got a tutor, and nothing worked.

I've been gifted--however, that's no free pass for me to despise others because they can't do what I can. I pray I never forget those moments of complete confusion and dismay during Chemistry and Biology, because I need them to remind and move me to compassion on those who struggle.

I am thankful for God's gift of humiliation, and I am thankful that He even gave me the ability to learn from it.

Commission

I am commissioned to paint a portrait of an artist,

A prince among men.

I would first sketch out the proportions,

the lighting

And try as I may,

every angle—such a puzzle for copying!

Shading, so delicate, too,

To balance the lights and darks so well

As he can—

It’s hard.

Drawing up the lines of his life as he did

Measure,

measure

line—

Steadier hands than mine

Should copy down the works of his hands,

Strength under control.

Oh, how clear my mind’s eye sees

The castles he architected—

Trifles, to him

But stretching to the sky to me.

It’s done.

I present it—

“Look what I made, Daddy.”

Taking it with a broad sweep of a smile,

He places it on his special shelf—

The one just for his little girl’s gifts.

{I wrote this poem for my Daddy's birthday, which is in February. His careless, procrastinating daughter, however, did not get his cards sent in the mail until earlier this week. He got them today, so now I can post it here for you to read about my darling Daddy without spoiling his surprise.}

J. W. Waterhouse, The Lady of Shalott, 1888

The wanton lily bloom gone, you’re the last

Pale flower in this river’s dim expanse—

The mirror of the wild wold—waning fast—

That was once yours to weave. Now, take this chance

To feel the river creep up your white sleeve,

Drift down the river that leads you to your

Dark, mysterious Death, who by your leave

Glides to your unmoored boat by foreign shore.

You lift your face to his: keep it there, greet

Him with your song, art such as Lancelot

Cannot deserve. So, sing your carol sweet—

Indeed, in death ne’er will you be forgot.

The poets metered life beyond your death,

And painters caught your last immortal breath.

{Sonnet inspired by John William Waterhouse's The Lady of Shalott. Here is a beautiful thing for your ears.}

Water Music

Flute player I saw last week
Turned her mouth, drew in air

Swimmer over there
Turns her head, draws in air

Me right here
Turn to you, draw you in

Flute player last week
Cupped her fingers over air holes

Swimmer over there
Cups her hands over the lake

My mouth open,
Cup the words

Flute player last week
Rippled the air, propelled her song in sound waves

Swimmer over there
Rippling shoulder muscle propel her through unsound waves

Me right here
Flicked graphite on this space of soundless white, tried to ripple you.

 A Dancer by the Sea by Chu Yu Xie

"I would build that dome in air, / That sunny dome! those caves of ice!" --Coleridge

Will my world of words prosper? or will it flutter down in ashes from the fire, the residue of the warring clash of dream and reality?

I'm just curious.