Friday, February 27, 2009

~The Queens Have Tea~


~The Queens Have Tea~


As ya can see, my Queen of the Purple House of Happiness had a special vistor. She is none other then Mystele's Little Queen http://mystele.blogspot.com/

Little did Mystele know that once Little Queen was complete, she felt the need to have an evening excursion. So off she ventured to the purple house in the woods.

My Queen must have known she was expecting company. Since she did her hair, placed a crown upon her head, and wore a new dress. Hmmm Do ya think she too is a Queen? I'm not sure, although I did call her my Queen of the Woods when I introduced her, coincidence?
I still do not know my Queens name, Lil Queen does and she is not revealing it to me. She let me know that it was not her secret to share. Smart Little Queen, lol I wonder if she will reveal it to Mystele? Little Queen was offered tea and cakes, and escorted inside the purple house of happiness. I wasn't allowed to join them as I was told I was not a Queen. I was hurt, but consoled myself to the fact I was allowed to capture their visit.
Little Queen asked my Queen if it wasn't a bother could she be shown around. My Queen felt honored and excited to share her happiness with Little Queen.
I followed along as both Queens had a pleasant walk through the woods. Little Queen was shown all the special places that my Queen loved. I was under strict instructions not reveal them. My Queen said in time she will share with the public her secret spots. I do know Little Queen found Orange Kittys stream quite facinating.

After their stroll through the woods, The Queens enjoyed sitting outdoors and looking into the night sky. It was filled with stars and Little Queen enjoyed it immensely, said she had never seen so many stars. Sadly their visit had to come to an end, As Little Queen had to get home before Mystele found her gone. With a promise to visit again she set off home. My Queen allowed me to take a picture of the night sky for ya to see what they enjoyed. She also revealed to me that she thought Little Queen was an intriquing lady. I pushed for details but was quickly dismissed.
Maybe next time they meet, I will be a Queen and will be able to sit in on their visit. Or maybe they will have pity on me.


Wednesday, February 25, 2009

~My ChildHood~


~My ChildHood~
First I feel I must, put a WARNING out to those who read me.
Although what I have to say is IMPORTANT, It is also Disturbing.
If ya happen to of a sensitive nature...
PLEASE DO NOT READ!
The above picture I did as part of my future book I am going to get published. It's titled
"Her Secret No More"
This book will have Poetry I've written as well as My Art Work. It's something I've been wanting to do since I was lil. My hope is that this book will be published and I will be able to help a Child Abuse Fund. This is a cause closest to my heart. Here is why...
Again a WARNING! Please stop now if ya of a sensitive nature.
I'm going to write this as delicate as I can without going into vivid details. To me it wouldn't serve any purpose to do so.
As far back as I can remember my life was filled with abuse. My first memory is of me being in my jams (pajamas for those who don't know) I was sleeping with my Tiger who served his purpose as a pillow. I remember my jams being pulled off me and someone violating me. I kept saying no, don't. Only to hear the sound of Shhh and a hand placed over my mouth. When he was done he left me there screaming. A woman came in and started screaming at him, as she took me from the bed and cradled me in her arms. She then gave me something foul tasting to drink, all the while she screamed "She's just a baby!" Whatever she gave me put me to sleep.
From there I carry memories of very detailed instances of my two sisters. I can't give dates being so lil, But I can give vivid details of where things happened. We lived in Rhode Island up until I was eight years old. My father worked in a shipyard there until they decided to shut it down. They told my father if he wanted to continue his line of work, he would have to move to Virginia. Virginia is where we moved. While my mother was busy packing the house we stayed with my Aunt and Uncle, and their eight kids. Fifteen children under one roof, plus four adults.
The night before we were to fly to Virginia my cousins Patty and Cheryl gave me a warning. I called Cheryl, Shovel because I couldn't say her name. What they told me didn't make sense. Patty said " Just ya wait and see how long it takes ****** to move to Virginia. When he does He's coming for YOU!" I didn't understand what they meant, but it didn't take long before their prediction came true.
When we moved to Virginia my whole world changed. My mother became an angrier person. My mother was a very large woman, six hundred pounds to be exact. But her size didn't stop her from chasing us kids down when need be. For every step she took to catch us, we were rewarded with another beating. Every day was a constant cycle of screaming, cursing and someone, if not all children getting beat on. My father worked long hours to support his seven children. He was a diciplinarian on behalf of my mother. When he came in the door after a hard days work, he wasn't greeted with a loving kiss or hug by my mother. He was greeted with my mother extending her arm, with her finger pointing to the stairs and saying "J***** Get." Which meant he had to go upstairs and beat us with his belt. His belt was no ordinary belt a man would wear with a suit. It was a belt that was six inches wide. When my father reached the top of the stairs he knew which room to visit for the beating to take place. Our door had to be closed as a sign of our impending doom. He never asked us what we did, my mother always filled him in when he was done.
We had to bend over the bed as he wailed on us. I sort of felt sorry for my father, I always felt he must've deep down hated his life. He had to have felt that he was only there to make the money,and beat the children. What I don't think my father knew was, he was our second beating for the same infraction. I think I prefered my fathers beatings to that of my mothers. Why? Because with him ya knew what to expect. With my mother ya never knew what ya were getting. I've endured my lip busted open by a backhand, because she thought I sucked my teeth. She hit me so hard I flip over backwards in the chair. She then grabbed me by my hair. My hair happened to be past my rear so it was easy to grab. She would then proceed to call me vile names all the while beating whatever she could get at. Ya learn to do the "dance" to avoid getting beat. I was a petite child growing up, to give an idea I only weighed ninety pounds when I was sixteen. My daily life of physical and mental abuse left me with feelings of cautiousness and fear. I was always side stepping everyone and second guessing my actions to avoid beatings.
Then added to my nightmare was the sexual abuse. My mother was asked by ****** to take me out for the day. I was taken to a hotel room, Room 9 to be exact. I will never forget that room it's
where I was vilolated and pictures were taken of me. I begged over and over to be left alone, but my words were ignored. My words fell on deaf ears just like when I received beatings. I was ignored, I was just a thing, an object to accept the ugliness heaped upon me. All the while the ugliness took place Patty and Shovels words came flooding back to me. "He's coming for YOU!" Then the words of my sister came through, "Don't worry, ya'll know soon enough"
So began my daily routine of abuse, I was silenced into submission.
I tried to give my mother hints, I tried to get my oldest sister to tell ,to accept this responsibility that she can stop this. She didn't, she saved herself, as long as it wasn't happening to her she didn't care. I was left to fend for myself. One day I couldn't take it anymore, I ran away from home. I knew it would be a matter of time before he would go after my younger sister. What I didn't know was my mother would send the police to look for me. I was hoping she loved ME enough to search for me herself. She didn't, It wasn't hard for the Police to find me. I wore leg braces from the hips down so I couldn't get too far. I couldn't talk to the Police I was told they would put me in jail. I was a child I didn't know the truth, I believed I would be taken away. When I was taken home my mother put on a show and acted all upset. The Police refused to leave without a valid reason. So I LIED, I told them it was because my mother made me wear braces. They laughed and then left.
That's when my mother sat me down and said "I know that's NOT the reason why ya ran away, ya've been wearing braces since ya were born." I confessed to her my secret. I would love to tell ya that this was the end of my abuse, But the one lie I told when I was nine is all I can handle. My mother picked the phone up and called ****** and told him "Ya never to come to my house again, I know whatcha did." With that she hung up. I got a glimpse of what a normal childhood looked like. My mother seemed changed, she stopped yelling and hitting. She tried to show love, was it the answer to my prayers? Sad to say it only lasted two weeks. Then he was back again, My father started asking why ****** wasn't around anymore. I didn't know at the time, that my mother NEVER told my father what he did. Why, I don't know. Until I was sixteen I endured the daily cycle of abuse. I begged God every day to kill me, Let me die so I wouldn't have to endure the anguish. God ignored me as well, He turned deaf to my prayers. I guess I should have changed them up a bit, instead of saying the same prayer over and over again. Remember in the movie Forest Gump, where Jenny runs with Forest in the corn field and prays to be a bird so she can fly far far away?
I was Jenny. I prayed the same prayer every day, for God to send me ONE person to save me. In my childs mind, no one came. I went to church like a good girl thinking if I were good enough God would hear me. He didn't, I found abuse in the church. Someone who was supposed to be a man of God molested me as well. Then I started questioning God!
What is it they see that makes them use me?
Where is the mark so I can erase it?
Why am I unloveable?
Why aren't I good enough to be saved?
Constant questions plaqued me and I had no answers.
Eventually I married and had children of my own. I became the mother I wanted to have. My children would know they were loved. I tired to keep in contact with my mother, but it became too much for me. I avoided her for years, That is until she called my home when I was twenty-three. She left a message on my answering machine asking me to call her immediately. I knew instantly in my heart what it was about. I had my girlfriend keep the kids while I made my call alone. Before that I called hubby and let him know what was going on. My whole body was shaking, I wanted to throw up. I prayed before I called, I said "Dear God, Please let me say what needs to be said and have this over with for good."
My mother started off with "Do ya know what ya sister is saying?" I listened as she went on and on about the abuse my sister was telling her therapist. When she was done she said "Well, What do ya have to say about all those lies?"

I took a deep breath and said "They're not lies" I sat for four hours on that phone giving my mother detail after detail of my sisters sexual abuse. My mother was in complete shock that I had so many memories. I told her that I have constant nightmares of what happened to me when I was very small. I not only have my memories but that of my sister, I asked her did she know what a burden this was for me? She had no answer. She didn't apologise to me, she just kept worrying over herslf. I asked her why she didn't listen to me when I was nine? Why did she allow it to go on? Again no answers. What she did say floored me, she said "Ya have the power to make or break my marriage" When I asked her what she meant, it was then she revealed she never told my father.
I wrote my mother a letter many years after that. I felt I needed a face to face with her for me to have peace with my abuse. It was Christmas time and I paid her a visit and handed her the card with the note inside. She waited for my father to go out before she read it and set it aside. She then said "Well, What do ya want me to say?" I told her anything which comes to mind. She gave me the excuse that back then people didn't talk about stuff like that. Now a days people just run their mouth about every little thing. I explained to her that's so we can break the cycle. She said she still hadn't told my father and she had no intentions of doing so. I explained I wasn't there to cause drama I just needed to feel like I had some power again. That I was stripped of any say in my life. I don't think I made a difference that day, but visiting her was a lil easier.
The sad twist in all of this is, the man who abused me came down with cancer and was dying. Did my mother take him in and help him with his final days? No, It was me. Don't gasp! I see ya there with ya mouth hanging open. Ya thinking "This girl is so messed up!" Well it's not that I was messed up. It's the simple fact that by taking care of him, I showed him he didn't win. He didn't break me, I survived his ugliness. He lost the power to hurt me anymore.
My father found out about the abuse from my other sister. She started having some medical issues and memories started coming to her that she had repressed. To this day I've not spoken to my father about any of the abuse. My hubby and children know I what I endured as a child. They never knew until recently who it was, they figured it out themselves.
I try as hard as I can to leave all my abuse in the past.
But what people who haven't been abused don't realize is...
ABUSE IN ANY FORM NEVER TRULY GOES AWAY!
Yes, the mental,physical, and sexual abuse have stopped. But the effects of what happened to me will remain with me forever. I go through cycles of nightmares, they can continue for weeks or even months at a time. When I sleep no one can touch me, I wake with fists swinging. I will scream and cry while looking wide awake, yet I'm asleep. I have bouts of insomnia where out of fear of having the nightmares I can't sleep. I have a fear of anyone touching me from behind. Hubby, sad to say learned the hard way not to sneak up behind me. I have a tendency to mark time, By that I mean If I am out and about and see something strange going on. I will mark the time and date and what was going on. Certain smells will trigger flashbacks. Not sure if ya know what Flashbacks are, But it's when a certain smell or sound or situation can bring ya back to the exact moment a situation happened. For me it's Old Spice, I hate that smell. I can't be around it because I will vomit. These are just a small sampling of what I go through even after 29 years since the last abuse occured.
So when I say the effects of abuse are a lifetime thing please believe me they do.
Ya probably wondering why I wrote this entry. It's because this is where my art is headed. I have been putting off the art part of my book for way too long. Trust me I have TONS of Poems written about my abuse. I just kept putting off doing the images because of fear. After I read Mysteles entry I knew it was speaking to me. This is why I'm sharing my story. I am always in fear of someone knowing what happened to me, and not accepting ME. I am going to put this fear aside and work on my art for my book. I'm going to TRUST GOD to see me through this part.
The image above was intentionally left faceless. My reason is when people look at this image I want them to imagine themselves as the child. Or imagine someone they love as the child in the picture. What would this childs face look like? What reaction would this childs face reveal to you? What emotion do ya feel when ya see this? I believe this is how I want my images for my book to be. Non-Facial, So ya can picture any face there. I've had these images in my head and kept them locked away for so long. I am frightened, yet excited to see where my art will go on this journey. I want to also apologise if I offended or upset anyone by this entry. This was not my intention, that's why I put the warning up. I hope to keep sharing my joys,sorrows and excitement as I grow with my art.
I hope ya continue to journey forward with me!
Pam Warden is doing her FIRST giveaway on Faith Folk. Please enter a chance to win one of her pieces of art work. In fact ya not only going to have the chance to win one of her adorable art works. Ya will win TWO! One to give a friend.
I think ya'll find this site uplifting.
Thanks~

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

~Purple House Of Happiness~

~Purple House Of Happiness~
I thought I'd try my hand at some folk art. Being inspired by Mystele of course! I so love her work, I'm drawn to it like a bee to a hive.
Please visit her here:http://mystele.blogspot.com/
I wasn't feeling totally at ease with this piece. I do like this picture don't get me wrong. But I have a hard time with relaxing! My brain wants things to look as realistic as possible. But when ya do Folk Art it's more of on the fun side of art.
I truly need to learn how to relax with my art. I'm not tense when I create, I just feel like it has to look real.
I thought it kind of funny that I wasn't feeling my work was even close to Folk Arty. That is until I read Mystele's entry.
I was truly BLESSED by Mystele's entry today. She brought some things to light for me. She asked...
Was I actively pursuing what I was meant to do, the role that only I can play in God's world?
She also brought to light how we can't measure OUR success by anothers. We should TRY,EXPERIMENT,GROW,and NOT BE AFRAID! I love how this entry spoke to me. So much knowledge in her entry, and I'm filled with hope,and renewed inspirational excitement! Please go read her entry I'm sure ya'll be just as inspired.
Thank You Mystele!
When I created my Purple House Of Happiness, I wanted my lady to live in the woods. She needed freedom to move around. She needed a purple house, because purple is a sign of royalty. She is my Queen of the woods, She adores her kittys and dotes on them. She plants flowers and roams the woods, and enjoys natures beauty. To her she is most happy where she resides.
She hasn't told me her name, only that her house is happiness to her. She told me secrets of what lies within her home. One day she said I could visit and share with you what her house holds. I wonder if she has more then two kittys? I forgot to ask. The orange kitty she holds, told me she was a very kind and wonderful woman. That she was content to live out her days in the woods with her. Orange Kitty shared a secret with me, She said inside the woods is a beautiful stream where the Queen fetches fish for her to dine on. What a wonderful Queen she is!
Queen was most kind to reveal herself to me, and allow me to draw her. Especially since she wasn't expecting company. She was most gracious and patient as I drew her holding Orange Kitty. The Queen said "Orange Kitty is quite heavy from all the fish she eats." I can't wait to visit her again. When I do I will share with you her new adventures.
Wouldn't it be divine to live in the Purple House Of Happiness?




Friday, February 20, 2009

~How I Received My Native American Name~


I received my name from a reocccuring vison/dream I've had since I was little.
I was on a reservation (feeling at home and safe). And I was wandering around in the woods on a beautiful spring like day. I was picking berries, looking for roots and watching the forest animals. I kept wandering around lost in my own lil world of thoughts and amusement. But I kept hearing people in the distance calling out "She Who Wanders", I tried to ignore it, but I felt a pulling every time the name was called out, so I went to investigate.
As I approached the edge of the woods I peered past some bushes, and noticed the whole tribe was looking around the village and searching for some one or some thing. I stepped out into the plains curious of their actions, and someone cried out "There she is!" I looked around, thinking someone was behind me, and noticed they were all looking at me! I walked out a few steps only to be scooped up into a Native American mans arms. I wasn't frightened when I was picked up, in fact I found myself giggling with excitement, and laid my head on his chest. I could hear his heart beating rapidly.
Then he spoke. When he spoke it was in a soothing voice. He said, "She Who Wanders, how many times must I say not to wander away from those who love you?" I tried to answer and he placed his fingers over my lips. He continued with what he was saying."When you wander from those who love you, You leave a void in their hearts. A fear of your not returning to your people. You must strive to remain true to who you are, She Who Wanders. But in doing so never wander so far in your journeys that you wander and remain lost."

This is the dream that I've constantly had since I was little. My dad said it was because that is my true name. My Native Amercian spirit is calling out to me. He said I should embrace the name and in doing so, This vision will stop and a new one will appear. Can I tell you how smart my dad is? Once I did just that, it stopped. I've had many other dreams/visions and they've all come true so far. I know ya can't fight who ya are. So I'm embracing the Native American side of me. Cherokee, Blackfoot, Apache. Yup,that's me! She Who Wanders.
The above Picture is my dream.
Unfortunately on Blogger here I can't embrace my Native American name. Someone has it, so I went with Poetic Dreams. The reason being is I write Poetry and most of them come to me in my dreams. Being in touch with my dreams has been such a journey. I've come to learn many things by them. Here's one of my Poems
~Enjoy~
I Am A Native American

I am a Native Amercian with hopes, fears, and dreams.
I wonder what my future will bring?
I know what I want it to be.
I pretend to watch the sunset on a rocky mountain edge.
I want to live among my ancestors and be one with them again.

I am a Native American with hopes, fears, and dreams.
I remember the stories of how I came to be.
I worry that when I am gone no one will remember me.
I ignore the ignorance of others who keep my spirit from being free.
I feel my ancestors blood running in me.
I say to others keep alive your history.

I am a Native American with hopes, fears, and dreams.
I dream of life among the plains.
I see how ignorance bound us like chains.
I fear my history will fade away.
I try to remember how my ancestors would pray.
I hope I am bringing them honor each day.

I am a Native American with hopes, fears, and dreams.
I Am She Who Wanders.
© September 11, 1999 She Who Wanders aka Poetic Dreams






Thursday, February 19, 2009

~Dandelion Wishes~



~Dandelion Wishes~

I long for Summer, The warmth of the sun shining on my skin. Everything looking so bright and new. Right now the world is cold and grey. Sure the sun shines, But it doesn't warm as it does in the Summer. Remember days when you would lay on the grass, filled with dandelions? Picking them up, and making childish wishes as the wind carried the fuzzy pieces away. I long for those days, I wish for a dandelion right now. I would wish for Spring to arrive and bring with it, it's magical touch of re-birth. I wish for the Winter Fairies to dance away, and let the Spring Fairies come out.

I don't really have a favorite season per say. They all serve a purpose, I just feel so weighed down by winter right now. I'm needing the warmth of Spring and Summer. Why? Because I'm sad. I'm saddend by promises of snow and none appears. I dislike the Winter Fairies teasing games they're playing with me. If winter is to be then let snow appear. I dislike the cold and dreary days without snow upon the ground.

I drew this picture to remember such carefree days. When the worries of yesterday were of simplier things. I wish for a pony, I wish for a colorful party dress, I wish for a bouquet of balloons,etc... Awww the wishes we made as children! Such innocence we held in out hearts. Now as adults we face such responsiblities that we forget to make Dandelion Wishes. Why? Why are we so focused on the seriousness of life, that we forget to take time to make wishes? To dream and hope as we did as children? I look at my picture and I remember. I remember to hold onto the child that lives inside of me, and let her come out and play more.

This is MY Dandelion Wish





Monday, February 16, 2009

~The Beauty With No Name~


~My Beauty With No Name~

Isn't she sweet looking? I adore her face. I can picture her with hair, and nice golden brown skin. What I can't do is make this happen. My Sweet Beauty is without hair, and without a name. Until she is complete she will haunt me. She stares at me with longing. She beckons me to complete her.
I explain with the best of intentions, I can not help her at this time.
She questions me. "Am I not worthy of ya time?" "Why can't ya finish me?" I explain to her as best I can, That it isn't her but me. I am failing her, I am the one unworthy of finishing her. I can't find it in my heart to continue on.

My fear is I won't make as beautiful as I invisioned her. When I look at her I can see her natural beauty. No chemicals or straighteners on her hair. I see a beautiful afro. One of many curls, surrounding her head as a crown. She smiles with her eyes as people look upon her. She beckons the onlooker to be aware of her presence. To identify her as royalty, The Beautiful African Queen that she is.

She is yet un-named until I can complete her. I feel she will reveal her name to me then, and only then. Until I finish her she will keep her name a secret from me. A punishment of sorts for failing to make her come alive.

Part of me believes she is complete. That is the reason why I can't finish her. But deep down I know this isn't true, because she tells me otherwise. She says I need to learn how to do African American art. Others need to see the beauty in African American art that I do. I have to share what I feel. I must complete the vision I have of her. She is my dream, and she demands I see her to completion.

Every night I sit and stare at her, I envision her complete. I speak kind words to her. I beg her to forgive me for my failure to see her come to life. I admit to her I'm scared, I'm afraid I will ruin her or not do her justice. It's one thing to see her in my dreams, and another to have her come to life. I make promises to her that I will learn all I can, And when I feel I can do her proud I will finish her.

She smiles with her eyes and I see a hint of tears in them. Or is it me, that I'm seeing her with tear-filled eyes?




Sunday, February 15, 2009

~When You Can Be Creative For Others, But For Yaself Ya Mind Goes Blank~

I Love how my mind works. (Sorry, I'm being sarcastic) Go figure I can come across someone who asks for a creative idea, for something they want to do. THOUSANDS of ideas run through my mind. Like a river my mind flows with ideas.
But when I need to do something creative for myself, A blankness covers my brain. Like snow blankets the world with it's whiteness. My brain hides it's ideas under a protective blanket, I can't uncover.
What made me write about my pea sized brain going blank? Easy, EWain asked people to come up with some ideas for these tins she has.
Here's her link...
Please feel free to stop by, and give her ya thoughts on what to do with them. I'm sure she'd appreciate it.
Like I was saying, I can come up with tons of ideas for other people, but for myself it's a no go. I love to help other people be creative, I throughly enjoy sharing my thoughts with others.
I just need to talk my mind into sharing it's creativeness with ME!
I've tried sweet talking it, bribing it, I've even tried tricking it! But my brain is smarter then I actually give it credit.
My brain said " Ya don't fool me Poetic Dreams, I know whatcha want!"
Even my tears can't fool my brain, into sharing it's knowledge with me.
I need to find a way to make friends with my brain. Make her understand that I adore the ideas she comes up with for others. I want to know why won't she share them with me?
If ya happen to know of any ways to get my brain to play nice with me. I would appreciate ya help.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

~Learning Something New Takes Time~

We've all had to do when we were babes. We'll be doing it till the day we die. What is it? Learning! Every day we absorb new knowledge, some tibits that we were unaware of before.

My something new is this Blogger. I see other blogs and think "How cute is this?" Will I be able to make my blog look so cute, and be so functional? In time, in time. Everything we do takes time.


I won't be an overnight success, like my fellow bloggers. In fact I was surprised I have five readers! By the way Thank You for being my "Poetic Dreamers". I appreciate it greatly.


Didya notice my new Header? Well I made that! I also made my own signature. I was so happy it worked here. I can at least say my Corel X comes in handy. My Christmas gift from my daughter last year. LOVE IT! I used to belong to MSN Groups before they decided to shut them down this month. I was a member of a tag making group,as well as quiliting. Such fun I had making tags. Quilting was fun while I was doing them.


As I was saying learning is something I'm in the middle of with this blog. It's not so easy to find information, on how to enter things here. Everything I try is a no go. Can't figure out where things go and how to place them in here. But I promise my Blog will one day be just as adorable as my fellow bloggers.


Until then enjoy my new header, and my new signature I made!




Thursday, February 12, 2009

~Happy Birthday Valentine's Day To Me~

Happy Birthday To Me!

Happy Valentine's Day To Me!


I am one of those people who have the distinct pleasure to celebrate both by a mere one second! According to my mother I was born one second from Valentine's Day. Would they let my Mother claim it, NOPE! So what do I get instead? Friday the 13th! lol

Bless hubby's heart he thought today was the 13th.




He had this box delivered to the house. Inside was a pretty red vase, with two dozen roses. A teddy bear and chocolates. He had them write Happy Birthday and Valentine's Day! Love, Hubby On the enclosed note.

It was a nice surprise.


I don't mind celebrating anyone elses brithday, but mine I always consider it just another day.
I know that sounds like I'm in denial of growing older. Nope, I believe age is just a number. I feel now, exactly how I did when I was sixteen. I think it's because in our home it wasn't considered anything big. Holidays were another example of just another day.



I'm not sure if ya aware of an artist named Mystele. But I absolutely LOVE HER! She's been had some influence on my art work lately.
She's helped me work on perfecting my skin tones,and even made a video to show me how. I would appreciate ya dropping by her site and saying hi. While ya there check out her awesome art work.


I appreciate how Mystele puts her art on cardboard she recycles.


Which got me to thinking. What should I do with this huge box, the flowers and such came in? Then it came to me through Lil Love!
Lil Love is an artist in training. She's an adorable 21 and 1/2 month old who has had her own box of crayons since she was 1 years old. I might add, that she hasn't broken one yet! Not that Mamma and Nina haven't broken one or two on her. Shhhh Don't tell her.


While I was cutting the box into useable pieces, Lil Love asked me "Color Me. Nina Please" Now there's one thing this Nina doesn't do, and that's ignore a request to do art with Lil Love. I told Lil Love that I was cutting the box down and once done I would color with her. She was quite patient, and helped me finish up. She found a piece she liked and asked for a "Pink Heart". I drew a heart on a small piece of cardboard. She then colored it for her "Da"
She was quite proud and showed it off to her Mamma.

Here is the results of her work.




I think she did a wonderful job. I know as she gets bigger her art skills will outshine her Nina!

Peace, Hugs, & Creativeness,~Poetic Dreams~

Friday, February 6, 2009

~My Tropical Paradise~



Have you ever thought what it would be like to have ya own Island? What would ya want to have on the island? How would ya design ya own island?

This was a challenge piece for the first week of February. I designed this with Black Ink and Colored Pencils. I was please with how the palm trees came out. But I need to work on how to make my water, and sand look more realistic. I'm not disappointed in this piece, I just wished it would have come out better. Although I must admit the camera makes it look better. lol

Like I said in my previous blog entry. I want to share my creative process with ya. Share the joys, and sorrows of acheiving my goal of becoming a better artist. I want to be able to show ya that anyone can make art!

If ya have any thoughts on this piece feel free to share them with me. Good or bad I could use some helpful tips. After all I'm sharing with ya and I would like ya to share with me.

Peace, Hugs, & Creativeness,~Poetic Dreams~

Thursday, February 5, 2009

~Getting Started~

Welcome to my world, Don't ask me what exactly I plan on doing here in Blogger, this is so new to me. I am used to expressing myself in various ways. Poetry, Art, and Crafts. I'm also familiar to writing in a diary,but blogging is different.

I had a hard time coming up with a Blog Name, since so many people have my names I've had forever. Sheesh!!! someone even has my given Native American name, and my birth name! What's up with that? Oh well I did come up with something, Lil Love Creations, do ya like it?

Lil Love is what I've called my lil Gbaby since she was in the womb. I figured I would go with that since she means the world to me.

What do I hope to do with this Blog? I don't really know right now. Maybe I can share some of my art work, Or some creative ideas. Mayhap I can share the frustrations of trying to learn a new skill. I haven't had any formal training in art. I am a self-taught artist, I believe everyone has some form of art talent. It's just looking in oneself to help express it. I am pretty much an open book.

I love to share my passions with others, Would ya be willing to come along on my journey? I promise to entertain ya with my antics.

Peace, Hugs, & Creativeness,~Poetic Dreams~