Yes, I like to play with the numbers in dates. Strange, I suppose, since math class always made me cringe. But there you go – not everything makes sense.
I’ve started journaling this year for the first time in far too many years. I did make an attempt a couple of years ago, but then my “wait, I write all the time, anyway, so what’s the point” attitude kicked in and I stopped. I still think there’s a point. Maybe especially for writers. And especially for dream journals, which I also have and need to get back to.
It’s quite a release to journal. I don’t plan to let anyone read it, although I don’t plan to destroy it, either, so there’s a chance someone along the line will read it. At that point, I won’t care one way or the other. Or I suppose I won’t. Guess it’s hard to tell. My guess is it’ll be too boring to bother with. The good stuff is in my books.
I’m also back to more artwork. The more I do it – I did a bit for Christmas gifts last month – the more I want to do more. I’ve even wondered if I should have stayed the course back when I was majoring in art. Ah well, you can’t change what you’ve done; you can only learn from it.
The key will be finding time for both art and writing, but I think they will complement each other well. I can see it already infusing more into my stories with colorful detail, with more luscious imagery. There’s a tip for other writers: paint something. It doesn’t matter how it turns out. Just look out your window and paint what you see how you see it. Like journaling, it’s a nice creative exercise that helps to unlock a different part of your brain and will seep beautifully into your words.
Painting or drawing is like journaling, really. You don’t realize how much you don’t see until you do.
How’s that for philosophical? :-)
According to Goodreads, I read 30 books last year. Well, 2 of them were children’s books I reviewed and two I abandoned. So, 27, roughly. No, one was a box set of 3, so 30 is pretty accurate. A mix of them. Long, short, literary, romance, non-fic, cozy mystery…
Not that the specific number matters. What matters is what I got out of them. I review almost everything I read these days because, well, it’s nice for the author to get a review to show people are reading her work, and, reviewing is like painting. You have to think more about what you read when you deconstruct it enough to review it well.
In art, you’re taught to see what you actually see as you reproduce it instead of what you think you see. In other words, look at each small part of it instead of at the whole object. The small parts make a bigger “whole” than the whole work itself. Really. It does. Even if it doesn’t make sense mathematically.
That’s why I prefer art. Stuff like that actually makes sense in art.
Anyway, hubby is an artist, as well, as is most of my family. We’re just strange that way. Hubby and Son do woodwork together. They’re about to branch out into more artistic artwork. So, why not? We (well, I) set up a page for our family art. It’s just beginning, but it’s a start.
Hunsaker Arts
2015 is starting out busy around here, but that’s nothing new. How about you? Starting anything differently creative?
Monday, January 05, 2015
1-5-15
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