All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don't mean anything
When you've got no one to tell them to
I was made for you
I climbed across the mountain tops
Swam all across the ocean blue
I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules
But baby I broke them all for you
Because even when I was flat broke
You made me feel like a million bucks
Yeah you do
And I was made for you
You see the smile that's on my mouth
Is hiding the words that don't come out
And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed
They don't know my head is a mess
No, they don't know who I really am
And they don't know what I've been through like you do
And I was made for you...
Posted by Nicole Charbonneau White at 8:56 AM
I've started a 12-week program called, The Artist's Way.
The book encourages artists to stop judging the art they make and embrace the creative spirit that is alive and at work in all of us. The exercises are supposed to help blocked, stifled and depressed artist find their path. Sure it sounds new-agey, but belittling a method that could possibly aid me as an artist is just fear and self-sabotage, right?
My first assignment is a daily one. It's called, "Morning Pages." Each day when I awake, I'm supposed to grab my notebook and write no less than 3 pages of stream of consciousness writing. No sensor. No filter. No attention paid to punctuation or spelling. No rules.
It was freeing! And it was weird. I started writing about the guy from Blues Clues.
NO! Not that that one. That's the old dude named Steve. I like the new dude named Joe:
He just handles the material in a very believable way. My stream of conscious writing went on and on about how I prefer Joe to Steve. Oh. My. God. Please don't let me be that mom at the playground talking about which member of The Wiggles is "hot." Yeeks.
Oh...according to "The Artist's Way," I'm not actually supposed to share my stream of consciousness writing.
Am I'm already messing this up? Whatevs. I refuse to judge myself!
SEE! IT's already WORKING!!!! YAY!
Posted by Nicole Charbonneau White at 8:41 AM
Posted by Nicole Charbonneau White at 6:07 PM
I wanted to decorate an old messenger bag that had been sitting in my closet. I painted my own version of one of my favorite paintings--Picasso's "The Old Guitarist."
He's sad because he can't make it through 'Knights of Cydonia' on hard.
Posted by Nicole Charbonneau White at 9:08 AM
Last night I was crabby and goofy at the same time.
I was teasing Jakob because he requires a certain extra soft toilet tissue and I called his bum "dainty."
I don't remember his exact verbal response, but he called me an emotional nutball. (In a cute, friendly way. Not mean.)
I said, "I'm going to wear my Frida Kahlo socks because you're acting sooooo Diego Rivera right now!" (Melodramatically. Playful. Not mean, either.)
I already had my gnome pajama pants on and I started to laugh hysterically when I saw Frida and the gnomes collide.
Posted by Nicole Charbonneau White at 10:47 PM