Fun With An Idea. . . .

I remember walking from the garage to the house and  wondering if my mate would see the work  I did in the yard that had taken me till dark to do.  And I was thinking of the Christmas tree I had once put up, sawing off the trunk to fit the holder,  stringing blue lights and also the decorating everything had required.  All this and even the latter was thought walking the path to the house.  The blue lights of the tree in the new room window were vivid in the dark.

And the thought occurred walking that it was in error that I thought I did these things.  And the error was in thinking that they were done to gain the praise and gratitude of the one I had in mind.  It was not the Other whose praise I wished.  It was none other than my Self I did my best and worked to please.

The scenes I wanted to duplicate were the ones I had in memory.  From where or what world I did not know.  But from a somewhere and sometime that burned into my brain their beauty and with the love for me that somehow came as an apriori, a before that kept me warm.

When I saw this photo from Emma E’s grandfather, who said that the great granddaughter decides whole scenes with great grandma’s tapestries,  adding a house, birdhouse, raffia  and sea shells with very real symbols, I know what is withdrawn from that memory bank.

Important to me is the care given to creating what is done from mind’s bedding.  Lately I am keenly aware of the casual dismissal of what is made and what little thought is given.  And it seems any effort is called creative no matter how thrown together something is. 

It offends me greatly because if it is worth doing, there should be pride in workmanship when done.  Time and physical effort called sweat should accompany what one presents as one’s work with name attached.  Some things are done as exercise of an idea and should be our fun.  Creative presentments should have standards that are measurable. 

Our schoolrooms once taught these standards.  Realizing that many felt outside what was accepted and were singed by the standards should  open one for further study and practice to make better. 

And learn that we are not the only way station but our further journey will yet show us sparklers.

Comments are closed.

Powered by WordPress. Designed by WooThemes