The tables were covered in white paper. Crayons, pastels, and smooth sticks waited quietly. Then came Lucy’s glittery purse—her 8-year-old hands had filled it with stones to pass along, one by one, to the strangers around the table.
We traced them. Pushed them. Held them.
Then we let the colors lead:
-Red for emotion.
-Yellow for curiosity.
-Blue for memory.
Each color came with music, with story, with space.
At the Museum of Wisconsin Art, we made marks not for meaning but for presence.
Thank you to Ann Marie and MOWA for the invitation and trust. And thank you to the participants—some new friends, some old students—for showing up and making lines that listened before they spoke.
Patron Saint of small sorrows.
A dead bee on a sidewalk, a dead plant, accidental break of a favorite cup. Small sorrows are many and everywhere.
What is a patron saint you want to see?
#patronSaint #dailydrawing
If time cost flesh
If life is boundless
Then where will my hours take me
I want with desires
I wish like a liar
Chasing the rabbit timidly
When im asleep
My dreams are whats deep
I drown in seas of maybes
How do i rise
How do i reach skies
When emotions and plans limit me
I grovel an weep
Cause i put dreams out of reach
But i want to engage the maybes
So instead of the plots
And sitting on thoughts
Its time to embrace the daydreams
I wont cower to dreams
I’ll capture a scheme
And nurture the life of maybes -#embracingnightmares
