I love everyone art so much talent just finished my walking stick
Wow!!! I attempted to make one years ago when I lived in another place. It’s gorgeous!
Hawk foot? Not sure if that’s correct, but I thought I’d give it a shot.
Whoa. Painted skies.
Nice back yard dude.
Thanks @Mrb53004. Too bad the weather is too unpredictable and radical to have a nice outdoor grow!
A piece of me:
The Man with the Grey Beard
"Do you mean to hurt people you love? " The man with the grey beard asked me.
Offended, I glared back at him. How dare he ask me such a thing, but I still pondered the question. Did I, or do I make it a habit in harming others on purpose when I don’t get my way?
Hmmm. I was in my early twenties at that moment in time, so of course most of my decisions surrounded me harming my Self, so I could honestly answer him. (This was my reasoning at the time, give me a break)
I looked back at the man with the grey beard and said, “No, not on purpose.”
“Good,” he responded. “Because people who purposely hurt others never die peacefully. God lets them sit to be tortured.”
The man started cackling. Yes, cackling, but it wasn’t a cackling where I, too, started howling with laughter. It was a true, pit in my stomach unsettled-ness some of us are arrogant enough to experience in our lives. You know the kind where you are smiling and agreeing with a situation only because you are wondering to your Self, “How can I play it cool, so he/she knows we are cool, but so cool I can leave safely without being obvious as to why cool?” You know those moments where you wonder how on earth you ended up in this very place at this very moment only to realize that you did it yourself?
The man stopped cackling and looked right into my brain, I could feel him walking around in there, like there was an attic that had lain empty and full of shadows and he was beating the walls like old dusty carpets, broom and all. He gave me a leaf of some sort to eat, which I did.
He said, ”This will speed things up for you. Then he started cackling again, then laughing. Then he said to me, “Your mother. Your mother lied about you, to you, and around you. She lied to God, she’s not going to have it easy.” Then he started the giggling again and we parted ways.
~k.mac
You do some pretty cool stuff on here, very creative.
I appreciate your thoughts. Thank you.
"That, I thought, was a terrific piece of talking.
“You missed, there,” he said. “Tell me why I quit my job… do you know why I quit the Messiah job?”
“Crowds, you said. Everybody wanting you to do their mira cles for them.”
“Yeah. Not the first, the second.
Crowdophobia is your cross, not mine. It’s not crowds that wear me, it’s the kind of crowd that doesn’t care at all about what I came to say. You can walk New York to London on the ocean, you can pull gold coins out of forever and still not make them care, you know?”
When he said that, he looked lonelier than I had ever seen a man still alive. He didn’t need food or shelter or money or fame. He was dying of his need to say what he knew, and nobody cared enough to listen I frowned at him, so as not to cry.
“Well, you asked for it,” I said. "If your happiness depends on what somebody else does, I guess you do have a problem.”
For further reading. An oldie but goodie. I first found it as a child. It is available for free reading, but I couldn’t get it to link.
Interesting, @DollarBill. Sort of like you answered my questions.
I wrote some love letters to my Creator while in social isolation. No typewriter or computer? I guess the hand still works.
Pt. 2 of 1
Thank you.
Writing is the best way to travel where only the sky has a limit! Does anyone recognize this first one?
@Kronic bro, i saw your Christmas art work on YouTube Who Got Snow? https://youtu.be/JM7AVlI2Qeo Enjoy