Friday, November 30, 2018

Artwork and Wordwork

Friday.
Poetry.
Yes, please.
Mouse on the movie "The Gruffalo"... you have to see this one if you haven't...mother squirrel concocts a story for her two youngsters, somewhat based on what she's seen that day...the mouse in her story does the same.  Keep a sharp eye out as you watch and listen.  It's a storyteller in a storyteller's tale, all based on things they have seen that day.  The more you see it, the more you see.

This is my 4 year old granddaughter's picture of the mouse.  She sat and studied him for awhile, and I watched her as she looked back and forth from tv to paper and considered his shape, features and color.  She had a few attempts before this one, that I wasn't aware she'd done until peeking in her notebook.
You can see here, her continuous line for the body and the 3-D legs (both sides, not just sticks)


My poem to a Gruffalo and friend:

Imaginary Fiend?
 
the imaginary Gruffalo
came to eat me, don't you know...
he's very tall with knobby knees,
a poisonous wart and spines like trees;
though I'm a mouse, I'm pretty sly,
and with my tricks, I walk right by
that owl, fox and snake who try
to snack on me
'cause I rely
on Gruffalo who follows me
so I'm as carefree as can be.

 by Donna JT Smith, 11/29/18

My other poem, thought in part while watching granddaughter draw...and thinking about the arts...and what it means to be a human that creates and thinks:

Heart

When I draw, 
I watch as my heart
colors and shapes
the page.

When I write,
I listen to my heart
color and shape
each scene.

When I live,
I love with my heart;
color and shape
are unimportant.

by Donna JT Smith, 11/29/18

More, more, more...encore, you say?  Head on over to Carol W. at Carol's Corner where more poems are awaiting.

Friday, November 23, 2018

More Sharing

It's the day after Thanksgiving already?  It's hard to believe.  Time has gone by rather quickly sometimes and at others very, very slowly.  It's all a matter of where my focus lies at the moment, I guess.  I am grateful for many moments that keep me focused on the important things in life.  Like this.

I'm spending time with my grandchildren this month.  My 4 year old granddaughter is with me while her brother is at school, so we have some time of drawing, writing, music and dance.  One day this week we came up with this picture.  She draws most all of the time on her own, but this one day she wanted to combine our drawings into one scene.  So, we each drew rabbits and she drew mice...then she wanted me to draw a fence...

Behind the fence she added a little girl with yellow hair peeking over it.  Soon the little girl's mother showed up.  The mother is much taller, of course.  Granddaughter's green birds are flying past, a ball has been tossed in the air (it was going to be a bird, but it was too close to Mom's hair she said), and carrots (mine on the right, hers on the left) are enticing the bunnies.

I don't usually like to draw with a child, but sometimes, as long as you are not "showing them up" or instructing them in the proper form in the drawing, I think it is okay.  I try to bow out as much as possible and let them take ownership of the work even finishing off what I've started.

I think we worked this cooperative picture quite successfully: she changed my bluebird (that is almost invisible now on the right) to green when it blended with sky, and she made a new "greenbird" friend for it right next to her sun; she increased the population of mice by adding to my one mouse, and she added green baby bunnies to join the other family.  Our skies are blended and reworked blues.  Best of all, we had fun and conversation while working on it.  I'm happiest though, watching her quietly consider the blank paper and colored pencils, and how she announces what she is about to create.

Just wait until the next picture.  Her people have suddenly grown full legs and no support stick below.  How fascinating to see the stages of growth in her observations and art.

How many blessings can one day hold? 


The Dictated Story as told to me:
(just the beginning...perhaps there will be more later)

                                                There was a little girl with her mom.  
                                                And the little girl said, "Come here, come here!
                                                I want you to see the bunnies and mice!"

************************

Coloring Days

Each sparkle day with
pencils and pen,
one after the other,
sprinkled again
with drawing
and singing,
all impromptu,
bitty ballerina dances
in sequined tutu.
Days pinwheel and swirl,
each blended yet whole
as hues are displayed
then ingrained in my soul. 

by Donna JT Smith, 11/20/18
************************

And with that I urge you to go read more poetry today, be grateful, and eat some leftovers...
join more poetry friends for Poetry Friday at Live Your Poem where Irene Latham is hosting today.

Friday, November 9, 2018

FB Recap

I apologize for not being everywhere all the time, but soon I will be again.  I catch moments of fleeting time and try to make sure I am still writing and posting, but not quite as regular as I usually am.  I SHALL return.  Please bear with me.  These were all posts from my FB this week - apologies to those who have already read them.  Again, freshness will resume soon!

4 year old grand daughter's ballerina drawing!  Love her dress!
Stage

Wispy strains
of music afloat
softly call to
Butterflies
released from
fluttering inside.
Wings on her toes,
light as leaves
on a breeze,
She flows
leaping into their
flighted dance.

by Donna JT Smith



Homeward Bound

There are roads that take you somewhere, lanes for you to roam;
There are highways heading east and west, and some ways take you home.

Your eyes scan far horizons where road aligns with sky,
And then it dips away again before another high.

Sinuous and soothing go the ribbons through the fields,
And every stop amid the peace reminds our hearts to yield.

Hold the air, the soil, the sun - warmth before the cold;
And give way to the hurriers - they're only growing old.

The fact is roads are all the same: your way is meant to be -
For all the roads you travel on have home-bound scenery.

by Donna JT Smith, 10-15-18

Poem inspiration: 
- The first sighting of a rainbow by my 4 year old grand daughter one evening when the sun broke through before sunset after a day of rain. -  Breathtaking both child and rainbow...

“I didn’t know those were real in real life! It’s the first one I ever saw! It has all the beautiful colors! I want to look at this forever!”
Though we didn’t get a good picture, she drew it the next morning. 
Promise

When I see a rainbow,
That palette all revealed,
I'm fascinated how sun and rain
Keep mysteries concealed.

Do you remember the first you saw
And how it made you feel?
Remember being mesmerized
By colors arched surreal?

Oh, could that moment be recalled
Whe fantasy turned real,
And misty hues threw arms around
A world with God's own seal!

by Donna JT Smith
drawing by 4 year old granddaughter

It's Poetry Friday!  Make a poem out of life today...

Poetry Friday is being hosted by Michelle at Today's Little Ditty - go see!