Friday, June 21, 2013

I seem to have meandered from working and creating digital pages to loving painting and working with real papers. It is amazing just how much this kind of hobby or passion can get hold of you. Time flies. However, since I have had the accident back in January my lifestyle has changed. Totally. My priorities are different, more focussed on living and less time on the computer. There are times when I think that having gone through so much pain that all this was for the better and I am grateful that once more I take the time to be conscious of a bird singing outside or even listening to the soft rustle of leaves or the wind blowing into my window.
(some pages are still left unfinished though I like to prepare them
with gesso for basis though I don't use gesso on each page, only really when
I know that I might be using inks and maybe a coat of paint.)


Saturday, June 15, 2013

I totally forgot that I am a member of Creative it came as a total surprise to me that one of my pages has been featured. It does feel good. Your photo "...and tomorrow - hunger, despair, cold (web)" was just featured on Creative Souls. To see your photo featured, visit:

I know I already posted it in the blog a while ago but for those of you who did not see it, this was/is the one that received attention. Maybe my 'mojo' will come back after all? It would be nice because I really did love creating digital art. When I created
the above page, I had just seen a documentary on the poverty in the
United States shown by BBC World TV. But you really don't need to go
and look at documentaries, all you have to do is open your eyes. It is
everywhere all around.

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

just a few pages from my 'Paris in the Spring' journal. All of them still need journaling and finishing off. (about 70 in all). And I still have to cover the front and back of the book covers......and I want to add some bobbles or ribbons and little things to dangle outside the cover. I find that almost more fun - the finishing touches. The actual book or journal was created from an old book I picked up at the library sale and I am almost sure I will not do it this way again. The pages were too thin and had to be glued together and they did not all turn out smooth but buckled in the process. I do like the look of the print showing through at times but I can achieve the same result in another way and with a smoother end effect.

 I also did not upload a lot of the pages because I really don't
want to have all my thoughts (journaling) shown


all of these pages still need journaling and more work, borders,
corners, bits and pieces. Also I still have to cover the front
 and back of the book

Saturday, June 8, 2013

I could not help myself, I had to post this article I read. Love it, and wonder
just how many of us feel this way. Or is it all about age and the younger
 generation really has no clue about civility or manners?

written by Kevin Williamson, writer for the theater column The New
Criterion :

The audiences, unfortunately, are drearily predictable. It's the old
one-in-every-family phenomenon: They will be late. They will talk. Their cell
phones will ring, and some of them, by God, will answer them. They will text,
 and they may even play a few rounds of Words with Friends during the third
 act. They are the enemy. They are depressing not because their bad manners
 surprise us, but because they do not surprise us. I found myself in the news
 this week after offering a surprise of my own at a New York theater: The
woman seated next to me was on her phone throughout most of the show.
 (It was "Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812," in case you're
wondering, a musical based on "War and Peace." You know what show you
shouldn't see in New York if you have the attention span of a goldfish? One
 based on "War and Peace.") When she was not on her phone, she and her
 friends were engaged in a four-part imitation of a "Sex and the City" brunch conversation.
I asked her nicely -- more than once -- but she did not respond
 to courtesy. She said: "Just don't look." So I took her phone from her and
 tossed it. There was a moment of wonderful, shocked silence. She salvaged
such self-respect as she could -- which is to say, she slapped me -- and then
stalked off in search of her phone. A few minutes later, I was visited by an
annoyed gentleman in a black suit and soon enough found myself out on the
 street. Yes, it was worth it. In part, I blame the theater managers. If you seat
 people who show up late, they will show up late. One or two high-profile
ejections a month would go a long way toward beating some sense into the
theater-going public.
But you can never design a perfect protocol. Audiences must behave. People are \awful, of course -- somebody once observed that every civilization faces a
barbarian invasion every generation in the form of its children -- and the
Broadway and off-Broadway crowd is full of miscreants. Theater is New York
and New York is theater, and New York is not much like the rest of the country.
 New York is one of the world capitals of self-importance. And, with the
 possible exception of Washington, there is no city in the country where self-importance is more disconnected from actual importance. If I could buy New
Yorkers for what they're worth and sell them for what they think they're worth,
 I'd own Fifth Avenue from Saks to Harlem. That guy whispering into his
 cell phone? He isn't getting the news that little Timmy finally has a donor
for his heart transplant -- he's just another schmuck having a schmuck
conversation with schmucks elsewhere. That guy tapping away on his smart
phone isn't restructuring the derivatives markets -- he's playing "Angry Birds."
 The lady to my right, I am willing to bet, was not receiving her orders from the Impossible Missions Force, and her phone did not self-destruct. I destructed it
. And I am not sorry. I am advised that what I did was almost certainly a crime.
And if the law, in its majesty, should decide that I need to spend a night in jail
 over this episode, then I will be happy to do so. But I think of it as an act of
criticism. Occasionally, a shocking gesture is called for, perhaps even a
histrionic one. I may have met conventional-grade rudeness with thermo
nuclear counterforce, but I did it in the interests of civility, violating standards
 to preserve them. Theater-goers on Twitter jokingly compared me to Batman:
Not the hero Gotham deserves, the hero it needs. I don't know about that:
Grumpiness is not much of a superpower. But we will live in exactly as rude and coarse a world as we will tolerate, and I do not intend to tolerate very much.

I could not have said it better.
(below is a digital page I created from one of our trips across the ocean. Wished
I was there...)