Since I’m striving to live by this lately, I wanted to make this quote into an image and share it here. I also want to thank all of you for following my blog and encouraging me. I never would have thought blogging could bring me so many wonderful friends and inspiration. Love to you all!
While the writing world wrestles with NaNoWriMo, I’m going to spend November much like last year: creating twenty different pieces of artwork.
I call it ‘KarPaiTwenMo‘ (Karen Paints Twenty in a Month). Five per week, gallery print size. This year, I’ve got distractions in November that might overwhelm me somewhat while I try to make art, but I’m certain I can do it.
I may not post five times per week. Still, I’ll share the results here as frequently as possible, and will share all twenty in time.
Best of luck to all of you participating in NaNoWriMo―and a successful November to everyone, no matter what your plans and goals are. Have fun and keep the coffee pot brewing!
In one of my old books of poetry, I found some golden autumn leaves pressed carefully into a page. This was the poem on that page. Although the words aren’t quite addressing a little girl, I remember liking the poem when I was a kid. And so, I’m sharing (as formatted in the book):
‘Thinking’ (or) ‘The Man Who Thinks He Can’ by Walter D. Wintle
If you think you are beaten, you are;
If you think you dare not, you don’t.
If you’d like to win, but think you can’t
It’s almost a cinch you won’t.
If you think you’ll lose, you’ve lost,
For out in the world we find
Success being with a fellow’s will;
It’s all in the state of mind.
If you think you’re outclassed, you are:
You’ve got to think high to rise.
You’ve got to be sure of yourself before
You can ever win a prize.
Life’s battles don’t always go
To the stronger or faster man,
But soon or late the man who wins
Is the one who thinks he can.
Fading Borders. Breaking old limits and crafting new passages.
For a larger version and print, please click the image.
What an abyss of uncertainty whenever the mind feels that some part of it has strayed beyond its own borders; when it, the seeker, is at once the dark region through which it must go seeking, where all its equipment will avail it nothing. Seek? More than that: create. It is face to face with something which does not so far exist, to which it alone can give reality and substance, which it alone can bring into the light of day. ― Marcel Proust
Each a Color. For a print and other items, please click the image.
We may all be tiny specks in a vast and wondrous universe, but I believe we’re connected in ways we can’t even begin to imagine. One fantastic symphony where we’re each a note: beautiful music, together.
A large drop of sun lingered on the horizon and then dripped over and was gone, and the sky was brilliant over the spot where it had gone, and a torn cloud, like a bloody rag, hung over the spot of its going. And dusk crept over the sky from the eastern horizon, and darkness crept over the land from the east. ― John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath
If you’re interested: I have a limited time promotion on a 16″ x 20″ stretched canvas print of ‘Macrocosm And Microcosm’ here. Ends Sunday.
Arctic Tundra. For a larger version and print, please click the image.
Because I needed to paint something cold now that it’s above 110°F. Whew!
The snow is sparkling like a million little suns. — Lama Willa Miller