Royalties

I have shut out.
For now... quit my steady job to take on students from the local community colleges, again.  It's okay, I love it. However, it is frightening to jump off when you have children to raise on your own.

I have to work extra hard, now. 

The students will trickle in.

My income will be constrained.

I discovered Zazzle. Well... I didn't discover it, but I was made aware. I was so excited, I forget now why I was there to begin with, or how I got there.

I have been painting and taking photographs for years with no feasible (make that free-sible) outlet to attract customers. Or at least without the knowledge of such places... for me, that is. You know... a nobody artist in a sea of nobody artists.  Mine eyes hath been opened.

Anyway, I have just plain stopped the presses of my doing for others, for the time being.

I'm working on my own repetoire.

Who knows... if everyone has been telling me the truth, and I DO have a good eye, a keen brush, and a sharp wit, I should be able to make a brilliant go at it.

I would link to the store, but as of now, the system has the storefronts whacked out, but the designs are out there.

Until then... I'm designing.

Is It Odd?

How is it that I don't believe in ghosts, yet I think my house is haunted?
How is it that I am doing things my way, yet I check if what I'm doing is okay with the inhabitants?
How is it that when I know I'm alone, I talk to the people in the house?

It's not Popeye... he's out here in the furnace house. This was where he spent most of his time... here and out on the farm, around the pond.

....Then there is the old "house in the yard" where long ago, enslaved people lived, loved and feared, and hoped, laughed and cried, worked and died. I often stand at the upstairs hall window at night and just listen... Imagine the little dark faces peering from their upstairs window at my house, and wonder what they thought.

 I love this place, I do. Over 200 years of sheltering life in this place in space.

It's not forever, of course, this I know. One day, probably sooner than later, Quarter Moon House will be gone. I don't know if mine will be the last tribe of humans to live here, but if I am...

I'm determined to absorb every bit of energy left here,

in the paint and dust and behind walls,

Recording my time as I add to it all, like a new spice in the stew.

If I'm not the last, of course I will leave it with more whispers and scents of my life.

How awesome is that?

Working For Me

Not too long ago, while I was lamenting on how I felt spread too thin, I was given a mantra.

You need to pick your spot, choose your moment and stick with that, but never give up variety

So, I mulled..
I do that, often, maybe too much, but that's not MY problem.

How do I offer up the best of my abilities and make a seismic ripple?
How do I feed my family without greasing someone else's wheels, as I watch mine go to bare metal?

Where do the best of my abilities lie? Is it writing? Art? Teaching?

Painting is my native language.

Teaching is an ability I am lucky to possess

I'm going to open up my studio at Quarter Moon House via web cast.

I'm recording video on painting and sketching with a brush

I'll continue to write, but I have neglected my artwork.

I can feel the dark longing from my native tongue,

crying because I have neglected

the bud of self.