“Bahhhhh!” Thalia croaked. “This was at the tip-top of Typist’s Instagram page. Describes our current state of being perfectly!” “I’m grateful to have shifted from screaming-headache and razor-blade-throat to pile-of-goo.” Nia defiled another tissue.
Yes, that soup is uncomfortable but it’s also where the good stuff lives... In my opinion! Just saying, from experience, as someone who has just recently emerged from his cocoon, AGAIN, and is now learning to use his newly developed Art Wings...
I wonder how many caterpillars 🐛 I have been?
🦋 AND 🐛
We NEED both, me thinks... ☺️🦋☺️
I don’t know exactly where my EarthArt journey will take me but I’m willing to crawl, cocoon, or fly to find out...
I wonder, on this winter solstice, if we have seasons of goo, followed by seasons of beauty--a cyclical thing (although not all seasons are the same length). And maybe preceding the goo is the pain, whether it's physical--cancer treatment/screaming-headache/ razor-blade-throat, or emotional. I hope you move through the current goo quickly, Gail, and enjoy the holidays!
“Nia defiled another tissue,” wrote typist. And, zapp, a flashback to public school days. When guys were obligated to carry a clean, ironed handkerchief in a back pocket. Ostensibly to offer a fair maiden to dry her tears. That got dicey during cold and flu season. 😮
Bobby asked rhetorically how many caterpillars he had been? My mind flashed (perhaps tiptoed) to a distant memory? The movie, “Cocoon,” from 1985. Worth a revisit IMHO.
I think most butterflies emerge from a cocoon (moths, too?) to unfurl their soft wings to air-dry, becoming rigid for flapping’s sake. Has typist/drawist/paintist emerged from her viral cocoon? Wing flapping imminent? This avid reader notes such episodes in her progression to greater awareness. Aha-ness! The natural world, humans included, can seem an unfolding of ahas. And thens.
So, anticipating an overnight of 16° the night before Christmas (sunny north Florida), our Pendleton cocoon is on our bed. For snuggling down and sleigh waiting. 😉 Content to be a mess wrapped up in blankets, and Winter Solstice coming tomorrow, perhaps this emergent butterfly will chew his way out.
For meteor gazing? For snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes? Or rescuing cold-stunned iguanas that fall from the trees in such cold weather! Not spoofing in this one!
T-shirt: “ALWAYS GIVE 100% (unless you're giving blood) 😁
One of those "goes without saying" things that you sometimes just have to say.
“Are you following your bliss?
Your path?”
~Question from Typist
First, great question!
Second, if not, why not?
Seriously, what’s stopping you?
Is there some other potentially more fulfilling activity? I doubt it...
What stops most of us, me included?
FEAR!
It’s at the root of almost everything... Like the roots of a tree, fear runs deep and wide for most of us...
One of the best books ever on the subject was written by my friend, dream follower, and popcorn 🍿 creator, Steve Bivans.
Check this out!https://smile.amazon.com/dp/B1N1PU9EH?ref_=cm_sw_r_mwn_dp_WG7E2TF4TW5426DG1DEY
What’s in your cocoon?
Yes, that soup is uncomfortable but it’s also where the good stuff lives... In my opinion! Just saying, from experience, as someone who has just recently emerged from his cocoon, AGAIN, and is now learning to use his newly developed Art Wings...
I wonder how many caterpillars 🐛 I have been?
🦋 AND 🐛
We NEED both, me thinks... ☺️🦋☺️
I don’t know exactly where my EarthArt journey will take me but I’m willing to crawl, cocoon, or fly to find out...
#OnMyPath 🐛 ⬆️⬇️➡️⬅️↔️⏸️ 🧩▶️ = 🦋
I wonder, on this winter solstice, if we have seasons of goo, followed by seasons of beauty--a cyclical thing (although not all seasons are the same length). And maybe preceding the goo is the pain, whether it's physical--cancer treatment/screaming-headache/ razor-blade-throat, or emotional. I hope you move through the current goo quickly, Gail, and enjoy the holidays!
“Nia defiled another tissue,” wrote typist. And, zapp, a flashback to public school days. When guys were obligated to carry a clean, ironed handkerchief in a back pocket. Ostensibly to offer a fair maiden to dry her tears. That got dicey during cold and flu season. 😮
Bobby asked rhetorically how many caterpillars he had been? My mind flashed (perhaps tiptoed) to a distant memory? The movie, “Cocoon,” from 1985. Worth a revisit IMHO.
I think most butterflies emerge from a cocoon (moths, too?) to unfurl their soft wings to air-dry, becoming rigid for flapping’s sake. Has typist/drawist/paintist emerged from her viral cocoon? Wing flapping imminent? This avid reader notes such episodes in her progression to greater awareness. Aha-ness! The natural world, humans included, can seem an unfolding of ahas. And thens.
So, anticipating an overnight of 16° the night before Christmas (sunny north Florida), our Pendleton cocoon is on our bed. For snuggling down and sleigh waiting. 😉 Content to be a mess wrapped up in blankets, and Winter Solstice coming tomorrow, perhaps this emergent butterfly will chew his way out.
For meteor gazing? For snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes? Or rescuing cold-stunned iguanas that fall from the trees in such cold weather! Not spoofing in this one!
And may all your butterflies be bright!