This started out as a hand-drawn black-and-white sketch. I could’ve left it like that, but I had this mood of color that kind of oozed out of my brain onto the drawing. I didn’t want to really edit what I started, even though it really had no form, nor hint of concrete object. Though this is abstract, but the color is not.
The color was my mood, the form was my creative flatness. I didn’t have a design to do, but rather the itching, the desire to draw. So this is like a vertical world of desire, spewed on by the horizontal world of moodiness.
I had two daughters. They were not inseparable. Actually they were leaps and bound different. But they were sisters. They attacked life differently. One stayed in the shelter of books, and expanded her imagination, and her faith. The other grasped hold of the brass ring of the world’s excitement, and lived among the outcasts, the socially deprived and the fringe.
If they were colors, they would be complimentary. If they were lines, one would not say the were parallel, but the did have point of crossing. If they were tones. One would be a bold brass horn, the other a piccolo or the Brazilian fan flute. Yet they were first sisters.
I can see them standing in the courtyard, wrapped in sunshine, fresh are and silk. They knew each other in those moments of serenity, where no one could touch them. That inner sanctum of friendship and love, that only sisters know.
Dance is a celebration of life, and sometimes a celebration for the next life. Dance is the cultural provision for joy. We should all celebrate the good of life, rather than highlight death, destruction, social anarchy and uncivil behavior — that’s the job of the news media. Dance is always a good thing unless under the influence of some bad drugs or mojo. Are their any societies without it?
Depressed people need to dance. Sick people need to dance. Dance invigorates, and it pumps us up. So get of your duffs and dance. Find a song to inspire you if you don’t have the music in you.
Music was important to many people in my family, though I don’t remember them dancing at all. My mother, especially, was big into musicals, and I’m not sure when but by the time I was 6, I had seen all types of groups and musical, including Up with People. You may not be old enough to remember that, but I think dance can excite you, throughout your years. That’s where I remember first seeing a group dance.
Today, hip hop continues the crazed dance moves, though there are plenty of other talented dancers working broadway shows and even in Vegas, baby. Whether it be Michael Jackson’s “Smooth Criminal” moves, or something more akin to hopping about like your pants are on fire. Keep moving.
The piece was like a dream for me. I saw it when I awoke and it took a few attempts to get the essence down. Hard to picture dance, as movement continues, long after your first blink.
I’m sitting around listening to YouTube videos when the Fleur East content comes into my ears. I’m really not impressed with her voice, but she is entertaining. So I’m fiddling around and make her a picture. The X-factor sometimes seems like a big karoke machine on TV.
Plus I really don’t want to subscribe, and I really would pay not to hear the gossip.
This piece looks different in photoshop and illustrator. The yellow and green is more fluorescent — or should I say Fleurescent. Here was one of her performances.
Here is another children’s illustration for the current book I’ve been developing. This one has some features forecasting to better things to come, but this trash collector is named “Stinky” at this point. Sitting around not developing, one can just attract garbage. Garbage in, garage out. So if we don’t more, and we stop growing we stink.
I find myself surrounded by plastic people. Maybe is has to do with the fact that everything is wrapped in plastic. Maybe I’m a plastic person, too.
Maybe if we all leave the planet this may change. The microorganisms will find a way to eat all this plastic junk.
Maybe the governments giant plastic credit bill will be reduced to mounds of nutrients inhabitable by at least cockroaches and bacteria.
All those things we longed for, the yacht, the house overlooking the ocean, the carpets, the lounge chairs will all be filled with plastic chomping bugs.
And maybe they will take out their trash in paper bags.
If will all got in that rocket, or at least a few of our strands of dna, could leave earth and land on some distant life-sustaining gem of a world, where we could copulate and make anew a world of people without masks and a desire for falsehood.
We are all looking for the golden tree. The one where you pick the golden fruit, and obtain the flow of resources that never ends. That golden tree is called work. There are some who are living in nirvana and they don’t have to work, as they are the recipients of a golden teat, a flow of wealth and riches, like a sheik with oil fields as far as the eye can see.
So keep your head down, and don’t covet others and your hard work with hands, mind and back will bring in the flow of what you need when you need it. When you don’t have the goods, then be humble and rely on God and man. The idea is that when you give, give unto God and he will give to you through wondrous means when you are in need.