Imagine the difference!

Imagination is more important than knowledge. But sometimes, what we know is just plain funny.



Look at that chubby little me on the left in the lower photo! I am soooooo dark!!! If I didn't KNOW that we were sisters, I'd never imagine we were even related! And it's not a fluke of the camera because mom got 2 photos that day. I am really, really (ok, REALLY) dark when I get out in the sun. And I have the curliest hair ever! And she is just so white - we tell her not to show her legs even today - we need sunglasses to look at them! LOL!!!

KNOWLEDGE:
I'm dark, she's fair
I'm brunette, she's blonde
My hair is curly, hers i straighter
We were born to the same parents
Grew up on the same farm
We are only 1 year apart in age

IMAGINE
the life we've shared together
for over 55 years!!!

And you should also know that when I started looking at the photo on the top, I thought those were dish towels hanging on the line to dry. Grandma Myrtle was a school cook. Imagine my surprise when I realized those are all DIAPERS! Because at this age, Elaine was a newborn, so mom had 3 little girls all in diapers.

IMAGINE washing that many diapers! Hanging them on the line to dry. Changing that many diapers! I was a little over 2, Colleen was just over 1 and Elaine a newborn. c 1954.

Imagine a hot summer afternoon in the Indiana humidity, 3 babies, mom and dad lived with her mom in the old farm house....mom's brother, Reese, was still at home, probably in high school about then, dad worked and farmed. One bathroom for everyone to share. I think mom & dad and all 3 of us girls all had 1 bedroom to share.

Imagine my shock when I learned as an adult that we were poor as kids! I had no clue. I thought life was pretty wonderful!

So, this was the opening for our retreat last weekend - a layout showing how different 2 women can be, from birth til now - but showing the imagination and wonder of what we can do when we get together as a group of artists!

Playing with Chicken Soup!

OK, you've read them all: Chicken Soup for the Soul, Chicken Soup for the Desparate Housewife's Soul, Chicken Soup for the Harried Scrapbooker's Soul.....I mean the list is just endless! And of course, every person's Grandmother always did say that "You just need some chicken soup!!"

Now, I've not read all of the books, but I've read enough to know that most of what is written is heartbreak stories. Some of it makes you feel good, some of it warms our heart, and some of it is funny. But some of it is just a tad too sad for me. I don't get "well" by reading heartbreak stuff.

So I have to disagree with the chicken soup books! (GASP!!!)

I believe this:

PLAYING with chicken soup is what's good for you.




Think about it.

1. If you can actually, literally "play" with chicken soup...you can probably play with anything!



2. As a child, each of us "learned" by "playing" with something. We played in the band. We had a part in a class play. We played at recess. We played on the swingset, with our dolls and firetrucks. We learned how to share, how to get along, how to put things away....just think of what you learned when you played!



3. We actually learned how to collaborate by just playing, building forts, having wars, and playing red rover, red rover, send my friend over.



What does the word "play" mean? I liked this definition: A physical or mental leisure activity that is undertaken purely for enjoyment or amusement and has no other objective.

You define it....but it is something that is fun, that makes you happy, that you like to do. The Old Testament says "A merry heart doeth good like a medicine." That's Proverbs 17:22. Or try Proverbs 15:13.



Reading funny stories from someone else's life is just not going to help. You need to get up, put the book down, set the computer aside, turn off the TV.....and actually, literally, physically.....go play!!!



I have a new keyboard (musical) and I LOVE playing it! And I go play in my studio just about every single day. My sister and I play together when we go out riding on the ATV with out husbands, and try to see just how narrow and steep a trail we can ride. I love to sit at 14,000 feet high on a rock-covered mountain side looking through piles of stones in search of a tiny amethyst crystal. Now that's definitely a game, to see if I can find one! Sort of like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Mom plays by painting and watching her new cat. Kerry plays with model trains. So does my sis, Elaine. I'm sure you have a hobby of some kind, but the big question is....do you take time to play every single day? Do you force yourself to play when you are sad or depressed? Do you even consider it when you are sick or not feeling well?

Playing with chicken soup. Give it a try! You might find it's just what you need!!!

Ranger Ink and me

Someone asked me why I had not done a review of Ranger's Ink. I said, "I don't have to...I love it so much, I wrote a poem about it

I love Ranger Ink

It's in my hair and on my clothes
In my shoes and on my nose
My husband thinks I'm the color of cream
So why does it shock him I appear to be green?
It's in my fingers, up under my nails
It's on my toes and the stairway rails
I dream in colors, bright and bold
My pillow cases have all turned gold
It's everywhere I look, it's all that I see
Ranger Ink...it's all over me!!!



This started as a sheet of white glossy cardstock. A black and white photo. A stamp done with black ink on white paper. And some printing on white printer paper.

ALL of the color is Ranger. WOW!!!! Who needs a review on a product this fantastic? You don't review it...you just write poetry about it!!!

Under the photo of my sister, Colleen, it says: "Now age 54, Colleen still has this very same smile, and she still loves elephants! The self that she has created is my best friend, my confidant, my inspiration, and through all these years, my sis has helped create the woman I am today."

And yes, any time I use this much ink on something, I really do end up with it all over me. But I don't mind at all...it's just so much fun!

The River of Life

I’m visiting mom tonight and we watched the movie “The Bishop’s Wife”. I think it’s dated 1947. If you haven’t seen it…it’s one of those old black and white “feel good” movies that makes you think back to your childhood days. There’s a scene where the cab driver, Sylvester, gets out and goes ice skating on a pond. Of course, he’s an excellent skater, but at first, he can’t skate at all.

Growing up, there was a creek that ran through Grandpa’s farm…a whole half mile long. I think it probably did have some deep parts in it, but for the most part…just about a foot deep. Slow moving most of the way. Would freeze like a sheet of ice in the winter. Dad would go down and shovel off the snow and our church youth group would come over for “skating” parties. Mom would always have hot chocolate and cookies for all the kids when we went back into the house to get warm. The creek was probably about a quarter mile east of where we lived. Close enough to walk….far enough away to get freezing cold on the walk home.

The creek was enveloped in huge old trees along the banks. Protected by hills on both sides, it was always warm when we were skating. Dad would build a bonfire so there was light to see….and we never skated into the dark as you just didn’t know what was there.

I was never a good skater…but I could go a distance without falling down. My dream was to skate good enough to be on TV. Well, so much for childhood dreams! I like to think I’ve transitioned that dream into my art….to be good enough to be on TV and I’ve met that goal a couple of times.

Funny how we dream one thing as a child and transition those dreams into something else as adults. Of all the dreams that I ever had, none of them were of being an artist!

But I think my sister, Colleen is the “real” artist in the family! She painted this scene which reminds me of the creek behind our house….I wrote a poem to go with it and then scrapped it.



Her painting is in the upper right hand corner. I scanned it, enlarged it, then printed it 4 times on watercolor paper. Each layer is cut a little more until the top layer is a shell....and then the 4 layers are stacked using pop dots between them. Gives a dimension that a photo just won't show, but if you look closely, I think you can see what I've done.


“The river of my life flows freely through my day
Following its path slowly along the way.
Winding between the the rocks, falling over boulders
Resting in quiet ponds, sleeping under shoulders
Not once does it go back to start the journey new
Yet it will take a turn and show a brand new view.
I believe that I know where this river ends
But I plan to enjoy all the twists and bends.
And when I reach that end, Jehovah’s hand will be
Waiting by my river and reaching out to me.”


From childhood dreams to today’s art….my life has been like a river.