To all of us artists in residence or those about to become one.
A few Substack posts I've especially enjoyed lately.
Please don’t ask me where August and September have gone… well September is almost gone. I’ve been musing over other writers’ posts and just enjoying reading them. Here are a few posts that I’ve especially enjoyed lately.
First, let me say that I am not an appointed Artist in Residence anywhere, nor am I about to become one, but I especially enjoyed the sentiment expressed in this post by Amy Stewart.
However, after reading Amy Stewart’s post, I think I should appoint myself an artist-writer or something “In-Residence” somewhere. Perhaps you might also think of doing that. After all, you are you, and that is very important!
Here are a few places where I’m “In-Residence.”
Backyard Gardener “In-Residence.” Well, I’ve been working on it now, watching every plant bloom, talking lovingly to the flowers, and trying to encourage this year’s scanty supply of cherry tomatoes to go for it and just make more!
Visiting Grandma “In-Residence.” Visiting grandchildren is one of the most wonderful things in the world. Listening to things they say is precious.
“Grandma, do you even have a phone?” Grandson’s reply: When I said I didn’t know how to turn on the TV, he replied, “Why don’t you phone my mom? She can tell you.” (I was babysitting, and in my day, we had one phone, and you only used it for important things, so even now, my cell phone is tucked away most of the time unless it's essential, and of course, I know how to turn on the TV and use the remote, but why do it when we are having so much fun making cookies.)
Or, chocolate cookie dough-covered grandson says, “How come you are still so clean, Grandma?” I reply, “Well, I’ve had a lot of practice.”
To which he says, How much?
I answer, “Well, maybe ten thousand cookies?” His expression. PRICELESS!
Or, while seeing my granddaughter off to nursery school, I noticed the neighbor’s roof was a bit wonky.
“Grandma, “Do you have a roof?”
”Yes”
“What color is it?” and “Grandma, is your white hair real?”
“Yes, here, give it a little pull and see.”
“Grandma, can you take your teeth out?”
“No, they are all mine; I can’t take them out.”
Then, I think I'll put in a plug for teeth brushing, saying, I always brush mine so they won’t come out.
“I always brush my teeth, too, Grandma!” Her serious expression. PRICELESS!
Artist-Writer “In-Residence.” Positioned in my little corner home art room writing place. I see what words I can shift around to write a poem or a story that someone may find readable other than me. Then, with all the rainbow colors at my disposal or a camera, I try to illustrate what the words say.
I think, with just a little whimsy, you will find that you are ‘Something Wonderful In-Residence Too.’
Whatever you are doing is great because you are doing it!
Cultivate what matters.
…a message from the Universe. This post is always thought-provoking and inspiring.
What great advice to cultivate what matters. I could think about that one for a long while. What matters to me, to everyone else? There’s another poem rattling around in my head again, and I must write it.
Cultivating What Matters
Life is long,
Life is short,
Life can be a forever song;
Or a series of mosquito bites
That prick and annoy
Almost like flashes of electronic lights.
Intermittently, we can begin,
Again, to see something otherworldly, new.
Like a happening in
A loved one's touch
Upon your hand
Holding you firmly with love and such.
Write, paint, garden, muse, just love… It is all good.
Posts you might like as much as I did.
Perhaps you would like to cook up something fun with Ruth Reichl. I always enjoy her travels through various kitchens, restaurants, and historical tidbits here and there.
Sue Clancy’s little handmade art book, As The Crow Flies, is such fun.
The Ten Minute Artist - Blogging Quietly…
Jillian Hess writes about Ralph Waldo Emmerson’s Wide World.
Or then there is the Passion and Pain of writing by: “The Fictionistas.”
There is a Passion…
What can we do but live our art and words?
For if we don’t try to live within our soul,
Expressing some universal soliloquy of sorts,
What have we but the pain of not letting out the whole?
The pain of bringing forth must happen.
Taking almost thoughtless care,
Of what we might share,
Laying our hearts so bare,
Yet, somehow, feeling we must dare…
To give what is heard
In those solitary moments, we muse
Within the silence of our mind
That others be prodded to enjoy and to use.
So go ahead now… go for it and make more!
Trina Astor-Stewart
Author & Illustrator
Blogs and Artful Moments
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Great post Trina. I'd like to think I'm a "cat lady" in residence. And maybe a "God searching soul" in residence too.