I Dropped a Falling Star, Or That One Time I Spilled M&Ms All Over My Canvas


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If Your Friends Can’t Dance


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The Ride

paint dry1

I will ride, ride, ride til I reach the edge of the flat, flat earth.
As I ride my mind wanders and meanders and I ponder
My travels and my meanings and the thoughts that hide
Behind the trees and bridges and shadows.
The sun of the clearings bring me back to the moment,
Shrinks the shadows, brings the clarity I seek for a moment.
But my wandering ponders will pale in comparison
To the depth of the wonders my mind will plunder
As I fall over the edge of the flat, flat Earth.

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Chasing Mice in the Sunset


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And Sold – Seven is State of Mind Goes Out the Door

















I suppose I’m allowed to take a breath now and again and contemplate the joy someone feels when they look at one of your creations. Deep breath. Relax.


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Flowers Do Bend


One more before the show.

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The Care Bucket ( a bit of repost but feeling it today)


I don’t care. Sounds like such a heartless thing to say, doesn’t it?

But you see what I usually mean when I say this is that I don’t have capacity to care about said topic (not to be confused with a lack of capability).

You see I have a Care Bucket. Everyone has one. They come in all different sizes, finite sizes.

That means if you put enough in your Care Bucket it will get full. Cares take up different amount of space. Big cares take up big space. Little cares take up little space. Things are always coming and going. Cares shrink or expand.

So if a new desired care comes along and your Care Bucket is full, something must change. Something in the Care Bucket has to go or has to shrink so the new care will fit.

Simple enough. I can live with this exchange.

The trouble comes from living in a world that is flooded with information. Twenty-four hour news channels, unending flow of data over the Internet and Twitter and Facebook and texting and all other forms of technology.

And what is the bulk of this news about. Good things? No! Bad things. Tragedies and accidents and murders and atrocities and injustices and inequalities and all manner of bad things. The bad news from seven billion people.

We are bombarded by things that we would normally want to feel care for. Each time we hear bad news we are asked to care. Our psyches haven’t evolved at the same pace as all this access to bad news. We’re not built for it.

But how can we care for all that without filling the bucket with sand instead of marbles? What happens if we try to care for all that?

Do we try to care a little bit about everything? Seems like a recipe for burn out. Or even worse, it sucks care away from the local cares in our lives.

I don’t have any wise panacea for you. I will say this though, look to your local cares. They’re the ones that matter.

Better yet: Stop ingesting all that bad news.

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