This Little Light of Mine, the Song of an Angry Child, and Hope

Opening a drawing pad is like opening a book.  It's exciting and I have no idea what to expect.  Being a story/character addict, that's what I draw.  Perhaps that's why I fail so hard at drawing still life, unless that still life has some sort of story or personality behind it.  I draw how I act, how I write.
I don't think much.  When I think too much, I loose inspiration.  Usually all I need is one question: How do I feel right now? 
Drawing is also how I can express my self without having to read my journal aloud.
And right now, poems fail me.  Poems are not something I can just sit down and write like I used to, they have to be completely spontaneous or I can't write them.  A poem will emerge from my mind at the most random times, and it's becoming more and more rare, which makes those random times even more precious and sacred to me.
So here's where I go when words fail.  I wish I could explain each picture in depth, but I don't have the will power, patience, time, or energy to do that.  Some pictures weren't made to explained, they explain themselves. 

Me, Fall, 2017:

This Little Light of Mine

Me, Spring, 2018:

The Song of an Angry Child

Me at Present:

Hope

Here's a challenge for you little artsy nerds such as myself.  Watch this song, by: Of Monsters and Men.  Write a one page long short story based on this song.  Pay close attention to the video, the lyrics, and what kind of feeling you get from the tune.  Looking up the meaning of the song is cheating, this has got to be your own story. 
I'd love to read what you come up with, and I'll post your work on this blog with your permission!

Have fun.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FubvitXV_zM

When You Have Eliminated the Impossible

When you have eliminated the impossible, what ever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.
-Sherlock Holmes 

'The Game'

I spend four long days drawing Sherlock.  Eating food.  Drawing Sherlock.  Going to the bathroom.  Turning the sink grey from the led on my hands.  Refining Sherlock's cheek bones.  curling and uncurling my fingers, trying to find feeling in my stone stiff hands.  Re-refining Sherlock's cheek bones.

Finally, an hour before it was too late to enter the contest, I finish my work, slap it into a cheep frame, drive to the library (accomplishing a sexy parking job) and drop off my baby at the beauty contest.  My baby is also rather small, gray and less refined as the hundreds of other colorful, beautifully detailed pieces of art that surround.  Hang in there Mr. Homles.

A week later Mom greats me with a 'I have something super exciting to show you' smile, and shows me the email that says I won an award. Victorious again, good ol' Sherlock Holmes!  

My Mom's laughing.  Because the email says, 'Congratulations Elemis and her teacher Shelley.  

"Like I'm your art teacher.  Ha!  Yup, definitely.  I taught you all you know!  It was hard.  I said, 'here's a paper and a pencil.  Go for it.'  I could start giving art lessons.  $20 an hour.  Just show up with some paper and pencils and do what ever you want."

I laughed too.  

And they tell Mom to stand up during the award ceremony today, and she receives an applause.  She thinks its hilarious.

You know, I wouldn't have entered that art contest if she hadn't shown me the article.  I would't have been able to if she hadn't given me those four days to draw my heart out.  I probably would have quit if she hadn't said, "Here's a paper and a pencil.  Go for it."

I would have wimped out on many auditions.  

I say, "My song and monologue aren't good enough and there's no time to find a new one."
Mom says, "My advice...Just do it."

I wouldn't have found some of the greatest theater groups if it weren't for her.  

Long story short, Mom thinks it's silly that she would be called out when she really isn't an art teacher.  

But maybe she doesn't realize, and I sometimes fail to realize, just how much different my life would be if she never told me anything like, "Here's a pencil and a paper.  Go for it."

Character of the Month:  Mom

Character of the Month: Beth March

Beth March 

There are many Beth's in the world, shy, quiet, sitting in the corners till needed, and living for others so cheerfully, that no one see's their sacrifices till the little cricket on the hearth stops chirping, and the sweet, sunshiny presents vanishes, leaving silence and shadow behind.

-Louisa May Alcott 

Normally I'd write about a character that I relate to.  Beth and I have little to nothing in common.

  For you who do not know Beth, she is the second youngest and the hero of the story, Little Women.  Like how Aslan is the hero in Narnia, or Sam the hero in the Lord of the Rings. 
She's terrified of people.  One of her best friends is her piano.  Her legless doll.  Her kittens.  And of course, her best friend, Jo.
I thought Beth was too perfect and unrealistic a character at first.  I was wrong.  Beth became one of the most real characters in this story.  Her constant fear that she isn't doing enough to help.  She can't stop beating herself up.  Fear is her number one enemy.

She did not rebuke Jo with saintly speeches, only loved her better for her passionate affection, and clung more closely to the dear human love, from which our Father never means us to be weaned, but through which he draws us closer to himself.
-Louisa May Alcott

Jo and Beth are inseparable.  They tell each other everything.  Maybe that's why I chose Beth as my Character of the month.  Because her and Jo are a packaged deal, you can't quite understand one without the other.

Jo:  "Beth is my conscience."  

Jo doesn't try and be Beth, she's content as long as she is by her side, keeping Jo from loosing her mind.  Beth is stronger when Jo is near, so Jo never leaves her side.  Jo's greatest fear is seeing her people leave.  Even when she discovers that her older sister Meg wants to marry John Brook, she puts up a fight, not just because she knows nothing about romance (here-here!), but because she doesn't want Meg to leave her.  Her attachment to people, especially to Beth, is overwhelming. 

Ever feel like you've lost half your personality?  Then you're around someone, and all of the sudden it's like you've regained you're soul?  And when that person is gone, you go back to feeling like half a human?

"Oh you'll get there.  I will have to do a great deal of traveling before I come in sight of your celestial city.  If I arrive late, you'll say a good word for me, wont you Beth?"
-Jo, in a conversation with Beth about Heaven.

She could not say 'I'm glad to go' for life was very sweet to her.  She could only sob out, "I'll try to be willing," While she held fast to Jo.  

-Louisa May Alcott

"I'm not a afraid, but it seems as if I should be homesick for you, even in heaven."
-Beth 

Yes.  I did go to Ecuador.  Yes, I will write about it, whether you are interested or not.  There are things I can only describe through writing, and even that isn't doing me much service.
And yes.  This character is for the month of MARCH!!!!! 
(No pun intended...But I'll pretend like I intended it so that I can feel quick witted like my Little-Bro-Man).
Happy April Fools. 

Ecuador Preview: