The art of my heart

When I started this blog, I thought that it would resemble many of the blogs I love to read. I thought that I would post a picture and write "Here is a picture of what we did today." But since it took a while to learn how to post pictures (I'm STILL not conviced I could do it without help...) I was just writing what was on my mind...and that felt exactly right, to me. In fact, it has made me so happy to be able to write these almost daily musings.
I am not a natural scrapbooker, the way many of you are. Nine years ago, some friends and I got together to stamp. Do you remember when stamping was big? Maybe it still is, and I just don't know. I thought "How fun! Stamping!" but when we were finished, the other girls had created professional looking cards and such, and mine looked like something a four year old would create, that his or her mother would love, because it was created by her four year old child. It did not scream "Sell me to the stationary store! Send me out as a thank you note or birthday card to some lucky recipient!" No. It screamed "No Natural Abilities At Crafting Whatsoever!"
It occured to me that people who are good at crafty things and scrapbooky things are probably also very good at blogging their pictures with neat captions of what they did that day. And I still am not one of them.
BUT I love the feel of this blog. I love the look of this blog. I LOVE LOVE LOVE the picture at the top of this blog. Why? Because it feels like "Me." The pictures that Verlana and I posted are totally random, not in any sequential order. The pictures I am most likely to post in the future (IF I STILL CAN!) will probably be more obscure, natural shots, profile shots, not quite clear shots. I may change that top picture to sepia tones, at some point, just to match the rest of the background better. But I like how you can see the sunlight in that picture, I love that it's not obvious right away that I am holding a child, I love that you can't clearly see our faces, and the other children are represented in subtle ways...(Ethan's yellow boots, Jeremy's shirt sleeve, Kristina, in the shadow...) I love that we're sitting in a VW bus...I love that it's crooked. But maybe I'm giving too much away. Maybe I should just stop at "I love that picture." And under that picture, I just want to see a bunch of words. Because that is who I am.
I have this beautiful painting in my mind. It will probably never see the light of day, because if I ever get my hands on some paint, brush, and a canvas, what will appear on the page will look nothing like the image in my head. It will be a poor representation of what I am actually seeing with my mind's eye. I am not the type who can look at a bowl of fruit and paint it to scale. What I try to do is create images of things that reflect something inside.
So there you have it. And do you know what? This post feels more like a picture of myself than the actual photograph in the last post.