Creating Connections in the Monday Mug Swap

A couple of weeks ago, I signed on to particpate in the Mug Swap at Create-A-Connection*...and...TA DA! my mug has arrived! Sent to me from Diana, this bright red beauty will hold enough of my favorite blend Gevalia coffee to get at least one eye open in the morning! And (lovely person that she is), she sent along the matching red bowl as a bonus. Wonder how she knew I like oatmeal to go with my coffee??

Thanks Diana!

Diana also tagged me for the "six weird things about you" meme. But that's going to take some thought~after all, there's nothing weird about me! (LOL)

*Create-A-Connection is a fabulous new blog with daily topics designed to inspire our creative connections with other artists and writers. Connections like these are incredibly empowering, and the world of blogging is an amazing way to create exciting new parternships in creative thought.

Sunday Scribblings-Fantasy

Like most teenage girls, I had a rich fantasy life. Granted, most of it revolved around things I now consider pretty juvenile - like clothes I imagined myself wearing, sports cars I imagined myself driving, and friends I imagined myself impressing. My fantasy life changed completely when I met my "prince charming." After that, it was all about my dreams of our life together - the home we would have (charmingly decorated and furnished), the children we would have (beautiful and supremely intelligent), the careers we would have (satisfying and productive), the trips we would take (exotic and exciting). I clearly remember lying in bed every night, lulling myself to sleep with glowing fantasies of all the wonderful things in store. I was fondly recalling those inspiring fantasies a few weeks ago, as I was lying in bed thinking about the work piled up on my desk, a stack of bills I needed to pay, the people who needed me to do things for them, the pain in my back that kept getting worse - well, you get the picture. The fantasy life, like the old grey mare, just ain't what it used to be.

When did this happen? I thought, downright angry with the fact the my thoughts were consumed by such mundane and negative trivia. When did my dreams disappear?

In all honesty, it may be because many of those fantasies have actually come true. I do have not only one, but two lovely homes, a handsome, intelligent child, and a career that's generally quite satisfying. We've done a fair amount of traveling, although we'd like to do more, and most importantly, we're all basically healthy. So what's left to fantasize about? And why bother anyway - it's just a waste of time, right?

Not necessarily. It may not be a coincidence that most of my teenage fantasies have come true - at least to some degree. There is something to be said for the school of thought which maintains that "if you can dream it, you can do it." If that is indeed the case, then I better start coming up with some new fantasies!

So how are these for a start:

  • a little house by the sea with a huge writing/music room, where the walls are made of windows overlooking the water
  • a zippy little sports car to drive around town in
  • and bunches of little shih-tzu's cavorting all over the place!

Might as well throw these in for good measure:

  • a couple of best selling novels and another one in the process
  • a recording contract for my world reknowed piano quintet
  • and (my son and daughter in law may not want to read this one) bunches of little grandchildren cavorting all over the place!

I'd say those are a pretty good way to renew my fantasy life, wouldn't you??

Poetry Thursday-Night Thoughts

Thoughts of you keep sleep awaystabbing my heart with cruel remembrance of your lips on mine the electric touch of your warm hand just there where life gives form to life

I tangle myself in this web of pale linens angry at darkness which summons you to my heart, yet fearful of light that even now filters through eyelids closed tightly in protest.

Beyond sleep now I ache with yearning, my body flush with rising heat recalling stolen moments shared by two souls who wandered from their chosen path only to be lost on this road to pure redemption.

I savor this agony these thoughts of you that arrive under cover of each night's dark mystery. My daylight self lost to this wild forest of memory where you wait in secret and torment me with love.

And yet all the while, beside me he sleeps lost in thoughts of his own.

I borrowed the first line of this poem from here, and I thank Rethabile who so graciously offered it for this week's Poetry Thursday objective.

Write On Wednesday-Serving Two (or Three, or Four...) Masters

For most of my life, I've been obsessed by two things - words and music. Of course, I've had obsessions about other things along the way - a purple sting ray bike with a white banana seat and sparkle streamers, Robert Redford as Hubbell Garnder in the movie The Way We Were, chilled Chardonnay from the Monterey Valley - but those things all pale in comparison to the two constants - words and music. Ever since I was a tiny child, I have craved one or the other of these things. I can clearly recall the first time I set foot in a library and was surrounded by the amazing sight and smell of all those books - millions of words all to be devoured at my pleasure. My greatest desire was to grab them all up in my tiny three year old arms and carry them home with me. It was just about the same time that I fell in love with a toy piano my parents gave me for Christmas - fell so much in love that I tried to turn everything into a pretend keyboard, even the handle of the grocery basket, or the little white keys of the radio in my dad's big Buick.

Throughout my life, my heart has been torn between these two loves. Do I write? Do I play? Why did it never occur to me that I could do both? Is there something in society's expectations that subliminally deters me from trying to practice more than one art at a time? Does the world allow only just so much artistic expression in the life of one person?

I might have thought that was true, at least until recently. For much of my life, it seemed as if I had to partition my artistic interests - if I was mostly playing music, because of a job, or the circumstances of my life, then I stopped writing. And I have always been drawn to the piano in the way I thought that a "true artist" should be, often feeling a physical need to play, almost like a smoker needs a cigarette or an alcoholic needs a vodka tonic. But recently, I've begun to feel the same draw to this computer screen - this other keyboard that brings my words alive and sends them out into the world, like the keys on my Kimball grand piano send music into the air.

This shift in perspective has largely come from my experience and acquaintances in the blogging community. Getting to know so many of you who are marvelous writers and poets, as well as photographers, painters, collage makers, quilters, has hushed that nagging little voice that was saying "you can't do both things well, so you have to pick one or the other." I'm beginning to believe that not only is it possible to serve more than one artistic master, it's even preferable. The more I write, the more sensitive I become to the world around me, the nuances of life that I can express in words, in poetry, and also in music. And I'm developing interests in totally different artistic pursuits, which I've been having some fun dabbling with over the past couple of weeks.

So, what about you? Do you think an artist can execl in more than one creative area? How many creative masters are you serving?