A very dear friend of mine suggested to me that I need to blog more. You see, I like to ramble, rant, and just chatter on. But, has that really been thrown out to the world, nay to the internet? In a word, nope.
Well then, what better time to change that than the here and now. While it's fun to throw up sketches and drawings on my blog, I'm just not doing enough of that. I'll still be posting artwork, because it is what I love to do. But I also enjoy conversation, and now this already starts to feel like I'm rambling as I already mentioned the talking part. See what I mean?
Today is a rather blustery day. And it's a Wednesday, which makes me think of Windsday. And of course makes me think of my favorite bear, dear old Winnipeg. Or as others may know him, Winnie-the-Pooh. Those books are some of the earliest that I remember reading on my own, at least in terms of where I was at the time and what I was doing.
Either shortly before, or on the morning of my seventh birthday I was given a copy of the collected stories of Winnie-the-Pooh. So fantastic! There it was, waiting for me on the piano, like so many of my gifts were on subsequent birthdays. I enjoyed the animated Disney version, but I was absolutely captivated by the book. I think I started reading it in the morning before I boarded the school bus. I may have even taken it with me to school.
I had my birthday party that evening as well - one of the largest I've ever had. It was a great time, what with my rocketship cake and all, as well as all my friends. Aside from the cake, I don't remember any of the other gifts, aside from my now dog-eared and well loved book. I wanted to go back to reading my book after all seventeen of my friends had left. But, I was also tasked with cleaning up after my guests. So walking around my play room with a firm left-handed grip of my book, my eyes focused on the pages, and a garbage bag in my right hand I navigated my way around by peripheral vision alone. I'd either stoop or bend to pick up trash and toss it in my black bag with a deft motion and continue on my way. Once all the rubbish had been picked up, I proceeded to do the same with collecting all the playthings and putting them in place.
Finally the room was all cleared and I found myself a perch on my old bunk bed so that I could conclude reading the book in peace and comfort. I haven't even mentioned the illustrations by Shepard! They were definitely among the earliest influences on my artistic path. And as things would have it, I've just discoverd The Pooh Sketchbook. Guess what's going to be on my list?
After writing this I was compelled to check something. It turns out that my seventh birthday was on a Thursday. Not quite as poetic, but a fantastic day all the same.
I'm still looking for hosts for my Not For Victorian Eyes Virtual Art Tour. You can find details on it here: