It’s Saturday Night! 

Dining and dancing, or pizza and beer? A party full of friends and family, or a snuggling two- or three-some with a child or grandchild in front of the TV?

My other half is recovering from his second Covid shot. All is well, so I’m here on the computer for a few moments to encourage you to stop by the Gallery and see the amazing images from the amazing artists I’ve highlighted here with the Goddess.

I’ve added more images to many of the galleries — the artists had soooooo many amazing creations that I couldn’t choose just three or four to show off.

Check out some of these hot artists and topics:

There are many, many more artists that will just amaze you. Take some time and wander the galleries. There’s always something new and amazing just around the corner.

For those of you who encouraged me with my multi-tasking madness the other day, I thank you. Talking with you helped relieve the stress, the pressure, and the madness. I am tasking one task at a time. Sometimes they last 10 minutes, other times 3 hours. But I assign myself to one project at a time.

Well, okay. There are times when I do a little work on the computer while I’m watching a movie. That’s a hard multi-task to stop. But sometimes an old TV Western in the background while I research does my soul good. 

That’s why I resent TV commercials — especially in the evening.

I can’t believe how stupid seniors seem to be to advertisers.

Heaven forbid — we are missing out on a multitude of Medicare benefits, need help dealing with walking (collapsible cane), need lawyers to deal with Non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma from RoundUp or mesothelioma from asbestos exposure, missing out on extra spending money from reversible mortgages (this isn’t my first rodeo), and expensive car repairs if your car’s out of warranty.

It’s amazing how help is just a phone call away.

No one’s laughing at Non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma or paying for car repairs. But to think that “One call, That’s all ” (another obnoxious lawyer commercial here in Wisconsin) is doing yourself and those you love a big disservice.

Young kids not yet near retirement age and old kids at retirement age — don’t be stupid. Don’t think there is a one-stop cure for all your woes. No TV lawyer or TV star is going to help you when you are sick or in need of cash.

It seems so simple, but it’s amazing how many people fall for TV scams.

Okay — for the advertiser, it’s not a scam. It’s a legitimate business. And somewhere down the road they can help you out.

But there are so many other trustworthy ways to get help.

The obvious are family and friends. Government agencies are here to help you figure out everything from filing taxes to claiming Medicare benefits. Hospitals have medical groups and counselors to help you get the help you need for illnesses of all kinds. Even groups like AARP has assistance programs to point you in the right direction.

You don’t need a televised lawyer or doctor to help you out.

Also, don’t be afraid to do the research yourself. Take notes. Ask your friend or your grandkid to give you a few search lessons on the computer if you can’t figure something out. Don’t follow TV promises helter skelter down the rabbit hole that could lead to who-knows-where.

I have a relative who has a half dozen devises he bought on TV: a foot pedaling machine to use while watching TV, plus a pocket fisherman or two. They are still gathering dust and grime sitting in the basement. But they ~sounded~ so promising! So good!

There is nothing wrong with wanting to do better, feel better. Nothing wrong with wanting a better, easier life. We all want that.

Just use your head. Don’t fall for TV promises and easy answers. Do your homework, then do the work.

And stay off of late night TV.

Ansel Adams (1902—1984) was a photographer and environmentalist,  born in San Francisco, California.

Adams rose to prominence as a photographer of the American West, particularly Yosemite National Park, using his work to promote conservation of wilderness areas.

His iconic black-and-white images helped to establish photography among the fine arts.

In 1916, following a trip to Yosemite National Park, Adams began experimenting with photography.

He learned darkroom techniques and read photography magazines, attended camera club meetings, and went to photography and art exhibits.

Adams’ professional breakthrough followed the publication of his first portfolio, Parmelian Prints of the High Sierras, which included his famous image Monolith, the Face of Half Dome.

For Adams, the environmental issues of particular importance were Yosemite National Park, the national park system, and above all, the preservation of wilderness.

He fought for new parks and wilderness areas, for the Wilderness Act, for wild Alaska and his beloved Big Sur coast of central California, for the mighty redwoods, for endangered sea lions and sea otters, and for clean air and water.

Seen in a more traditional art history context, Adams was the last and defining figure in the romantic tradition of nineteenth-century American landscape painting and photography.

More of Ansel Adam‘s breathtaking photography can be found at https://www.anseladams.com/.

Bottle or Lamp, his home the same
It all depends upon his name
Dijnn, djinni, djinny, or genie 
How many wishes should there be?

Last August I wrote a lovely little blog about Your Favorite Opening Sentence. How Language is the foundation of many of the Arts. To instruct, to classify, to share your Art you must understand and communicate with words. 

And how important an opening sentence and/or paragraph can be.

I shared one of my favorite openings, the first paragraph of H.P. Lovecraft’s Call of the Cthulhu:

The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far. The sciences, each straining in its own direction, have hitherto harmed us little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the deadly light into the peace and safety of a new dark age.

I love the atmospheric set up for the whole piece.

Another great opening paragraph is in Charles Dicken’s Tale of Two Cities:

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way—in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

And, a final tribute, the opening paragraph from The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson:

No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.

I realize two of my three examples are from the macabre side of town, but that’s precisely it — how you know from the opening paragraph what the feel of the book is about.

There are many ways to start a story. A book. Conversations, descriptions of locations, someone’s thoughts on their life. First person, third person, omnipotent. All need be done with skill and flow if the conversations and descriptions and locations are to bring us into their world.

It’s not easy. I have written many books, and some beginnings are better than others. It’s not easy catching a reader’s attention in just a few sentences.

From: Corn and Shadows:

“You cannot live in both worlds.”

The words echoed in the back of Anna’s mind like waves hitting the breakwater. Soft, rhythmic. They made no sense, at least not in their current context. She tried to hold onto the silver threads, but they slowly faded into meaningless whispers. All her mind could focus on was the slow, continuous beeping that radiated from some distant point.

From: I Dreamed I Was in Paris

To write a book about traveling to Paris is like …
To write a book about staying in Paris is like …
To write a book about what I learned in Paris is like …
Nearly impossible.

And finally, from: Gaia and the Etruscans:

My name is Gaia Borealis.

I was told most introductions, most self-driven non-fiction recordings, start out with a name and an insight. Well, as you can see, my name is not of the usual variety. I suppose you could say the same about my life. Of course, doesn’t everyone say that?

All my beginnings are different. Different styles, different emotions, different points of view. Sometimes the beginnings came easy — I knew the perfect start. Others I wanted to set the personality of the main character in the first paragraph..

The point of this blog is that, if you are a writer, your opening paragraph is the most important piece of writing you’ll ever do. You need to make your beginning insightful, curious, tempting, flowing, and indicative of things to come. Catch our attention. Give us a feel for the rest of the book.

What are some of your favorite opening paragraphs? I’d love to hear what sets your reading rockets off!

I don’t want to be that person.

I don’t want to be the person that follows hundreds — dare I say it — thousands of blogs, yet reads nary a one. 

The one that pops in once every few months to quick read a few posts, only to gain zero knowledge of the person behind the posting.

I’m not saying we all should be best friends through our blogs. The world is too big for all of us to constantly connect. We’d be like a plate of fried eggs sooner or later, dry with only an over-cooked center to show for our efforts.

But I can’t help but hit the “follow” button when I follow a lead which leads me to more of what makes me feel good. Often it’s poetry, but lately it’s been crafts, photography — words and images that touch my center.

And I add yet another name I don’t get to enjoy as often as I should.

I don’t want to be one of those people.

One of those empty followers.

I want to absorb a bit of every post I read, understand and identify with some, be entertained by others. I want to nod my head in agreement or smile in reaction.

I don’t want to be one of those people who once a week go through their ledger and click on those who I follow and read a couple of their blogs before moving on to the next person. 

But I feel like one.

That’s why I tried not to follow too many people when I first started blogging. Some have stuck around, others have wandered down different paths. I wanted to show I was loyal to their following me, and returned the F in kindness.

Then I started discovering blogs through other people’s blogs and opened up a whole new world of creativity. 

How could I say no?

Thank goodness I am retired — I have a bit of time each day to at least read today’s contributions. 

Is this the kind of follower you want to be?

Is this the kind of follower who follows me?

Am I just a notch in someone else’s never-ending belt of a blog once read and soon forgotten?

And should I care if I am? At least I’m on that belt.

Then I look out the window on a Sunday morning, lovely music in the background, coffee perking, a day’s worth of creativity (I do my best to make housework creative, too) in front of me, and know that creativity often does not come with rewards.

It doesn’t always come with first-place ribbons or shiny trophies or extra dollars in your pocket for your labor. 

Creativity is self-rewarding. We create because it makes us feel good. If we pick up admirers on the way, that’s frosting on the cake. But it’s the actual high of making something out of nothing that is the thrill of the chase.

Thank all of you who read the Goddess, and thank all of you who just pass through and wave. 

We all are making the world a better place for each other.

Dasil (David Silva) is a professional, self-taught Mexican-born painter.

Born in Mexico City, Dasil has been a resident of Montreal since the spring of 2002.In parallel with a multi-year career in commercial photography, corporate communications, and television programming production, Dasil has developed a rich pictorial work, original and very personal.Once he arrived in his new adopted country, Dasil devoted himself to the development of his painting.Working with acrylics, oils and inks, Dasil presents imaginative figurative paintings, responding to a mix of influences going from surrealism to classicism, fantastic, allegoric or sacred art.The finesse and precision of his drawings are enhanced by the richness of the colors and hues.

This allows Dasil to share his passions such as music, mythology, and history.The whole of his work is meant to be a celebration of life.To the careful observer, Dasil offers fine composite and complex images, with hidden details and compositions that reveal a secondary vivid symbolism.More of David Silva‘s — Dasil’s — artwork can be found at http://www.dasil.ca/index_ang.html.

I have discovered something new — well, it’s really not new, but it’s taken front row in my realm.  I call it Sound and Texture Gratification.

There is something oddly satisfying about certain combinations of sounds and sights experienced together. There are communities known as “subreddits,” on Reddit such as oddlysatisfying that cater to this strange phenomenon, or apps like RubberBand Cutting where you cut rubber bands off of objects that my grandkids play all the time.

Think about walking on thin ice down a path and hearing and watching it crack beneath your feet. The perfect swirl of frosting on a cupcake. Cutting down a tall stack of thinly layered pancakes or phyllo dough. Textured paintings. Videos of assembly lines punching and folding and smoothly moving along.

You get what I’m saying.

Google “Oddly Satisfying” and you will get the gist of this enjoyable phenomenon.

I don’t know how to explain it. There is something oddly satisfying about certain motions and sounds that are perfectly in sync with your senses. I myself would rather bite through a stack of thin spaghetti strands than chew up one thick piece of pasta. Something about the click-click-click of going through the layers gives me great pleasure. 

It’s not every sound, every vision. It’s not the same satisfaction as looking at the red/pink colors of sunsets or the precision movements of a classical pianist. Those are different satisfactions.

I am talking about the effect of sound and/or texture and/or vision that  become three dimensional. The simultaneous sight and sound of glass shattering.  Perfectly round bubbles rising in a champagne glass. Rows and lines of things that blend perfectly into one another. Liquids that swirl into mesmerizing rainbows or the experience of running your fingers across corrugated cardboard. The sound and visual gratification watching thousands of precisely lined up dominoes falling. 

Our senses are magnificent transmitters. They send us pleasure on many levels all at one time, often overloading our personal processing centers. In a good way, of course.

If you have experienced what I call Sound and Texture Gratification, come along and share! We all love a good textile experience!

Here is a video that is “oddly satisfying” …

https://www.instagram.com/metdaan.cakes/

No sun outlasts its sunset, but will rise again and bring the dawn.
~ Maya Angelou

This is the downer part of being a creative sprite.

My application for my first Starving Artist Art Fair was turned down. 

The woman I was in contact with was very nice, very supportive. The jury preferred that every piece of my artwork — Angel Tears — should be hand made. 

I get that. I knew that. I know all of the hard work that goes into making something from scratch. That’s where the blood, sweat, and tears come from.

I chose to use a combination of purchased items and assemble them to my own specifications. The entire process is mine, just not the physical pieces.

The woman who sent me my rejection email suggested I try the smaller, local art fair across the street from their bigger one. Same day, almost same place.

Probably the best suggestion I’ve had all year. And I’m going to do it.

I would imagine many of you out there go through the same amount of angst, pride, doubt, and excitement about every piece you create. 

Why am I doing this? Making this? Making this particular style of this? Is it any good? Who would want to buy this? Can the purchasing public see this flaw or this wrong flash of color or this odd texture or this slipped stitch?

Your first rejection. Your first return. Your first complaint. They didn’t like it. They hated it. They hate my work.

I went through this same angst, pride, doubt, and excitement with every piece I wrote, too. My fear of never being published, never being read, never being understood. I write and delete and edit and throw out chapters and stanzas and stare at my computer screen and watch kitty videos.

Why do I put myself through this? This up and down, heart-and-gut-wrenching doubt about my beloved product?

I am happy to say that I ignore most of those wasted emotions lately. I plan on sharing now rather than hope for tomorrow.  I believe my writing is that good. And now my crafts.

Do you believe you are creative?

Do you enjoy what you do?

Do you like your end result?

Are you willing to work at getting your art out there?

I am excited about trying a smaller venue. Face it. I’ve never offered my art before to the public. Ever. Not my writing, not my crafts. 

I’ve never offered my dreams before, either.

I love the feeling creativity gives me. It lifts me. It’s therapy after a crazy day or a depressed night. I enjoy working on something that started as a thought in my mind and evolved into something tangible. 

Don’t let a road block in one direction stop you from turning and going a different way. There are dozens of ways to get your work out there. It doesn’t have to be a sales route. It can be work shared with friends and family, shared online, on a blog, or in your own online publication. You can enter half a dozen art fairs, craft fairs, or start your own art fair or a neighborhood art fair.

If you love what you do, don’t give up.

I’m not!

Creating dark, atmospheric art is not as easy as one would think. It’s more than black backgrounds and scary faces. It takes thought, planning, and the right mixtures of a blend of greys, blues and blacks.

This is something Eva Mout at Ursus Art does well.

Eva does marvelous portraits and photography, but there is something about her shadowed art that calls you in and makes you ask questions of the dark. Here is one of her most recent paintings and blogs, Spirited Off:

There are many more delights on her website, Ursus Art. You really should take some time and wander through her rich variety of creativity.