A Neighbor’s Dying
“…Poor, poor Chris…I guess maybe your train finally came…”
Category: sobriety
Painting My Heart Out
Woo Hoo ! I am an artist WHIRLWIND again! Hang on, cause art is flowing out of me in a torrent, and I need more hands. I am happy to … Continue reading Painting My Heart Out
The Hurrier I Go…
THE BEHINDER I GET How true, how true that Pennsylvania Dutch saying is. I squander my art endeavors, rushing from this deadline to that, frazzled, befuddled and unsatisfied. That may … Continue reading The Hurrier I Go…
IN the Mirror
recognizing my BIPOLAR self image I’m in “Wonderland” right now. Been here for a week or so. Time seems to be inching by, my head too heavy to lift off … Continue reading IN the Mirror
Eating Art
I eat a lot of my art. Great flow, free strokes, endless imagination…stuffed in my spare bedroom. “What spare bedroom?” You have a right to ask, especially when the door … Continue reading Eating Art
RESOLVING THE COMMISSION DILEMMA
Stuck in the Barnyard “OLD McDONALD HAD A COMMISSION…Oh no, Oh no, Oh no……” So, I had a “Patron”, and I am envisioning a relationship similar to Michaelangelo had with … Continue reading RESOLVING THE COMMISSION DILEMMA
It’s Just Me…
“He bandaged my broken hands that had beaten down my own hopes…”
AM I FAMOUS YET?
“…I was a rebel…not knowing thousands of feet had gone down that same road days…months…centuries before…”
A Freewheeling Frenzy!
I have to get the mix just right: a smidgen of anxiety, a pinch of hunger, a good dose of caffeine and just about 48 hours without sleep and *BAM*! … Continue reading A Freewheeling Frenzy!
The Cathouse
Been trapping feral kitties this weekend…but not to kill them. Yay! I’ve been working with a nonprofit called Meow Now, which I believe has chapters nationwide. They catch, neuter/spay , … Continue reading The Cathouse
Starting Over, Over Again
“… can you see me going mad in here?…”
In My Room
your home is your place to dream, to find peace and rest. A cocoon, a safe haven, an island in the storm… a place to create, to define, to highlight … Continue reading In My Room
Transported.
“Why am I small again, lost again?”
All Writey Now
…seems to be less like a monkey…more like a huge Brahma that has lain down, groaning and farting…
SUSAN TODD MARTIN 