voyeur haiku

owl, pen and ink on graph paper, doodle
© 2009 by ybonesy. All rights reserved.

owl on a high branch
spies the woman in her room
writing late at night

-Related to post haiku 2 (one-a-day)

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EVIL EYE

evil eye, a belief held by many cultures that if a person envies you or what you have and stares at that object, the object will be cursed, pen and ink on graph paper, doodle © 2009 by ybonesy. All rights reserved.



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Note to red Ravine Readers: This doodle is related to the Topic of Envy posted for the Out of The Blue Films “ENVY Contest” at red Ravine. For background and inspiration about Envy, read the essay Cracking Envy (Or How I Learned To Stop Romancing A Deadly Sin) and the piece The Case of Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez: Is It Envy Or Earned? 

According to the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, there is a widespread assumption that Envy is an emotion. Other posts that might help jog the memory when writing about tough or secretive emotions are Feelings, Nothing More Than Feelings  and WRITING TOPIC – EMOTIONAL VOCABULARY. 

To enter the ENVY contest and learn how to participate, go to the Contest Submission Guidelines. There is no fee to enter. You will be competing for an Amazon Kindle and a chance to have your creative work featured in a groundbreaking new documentary film. Deadline is August 15th!

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Here’s To Fireworks, Hot Dogs & Independence!

4, pen and ink on graph paper, doodle © 2008 by ybonesy. All rights reserved.







        Have a safe and colorful Fourth!








         
         
         
         
         

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ode to olive haiku

Olive and other Weird Food, pen and ink on graph paper, doodle © 2008 by ybonesy. All rights reserved.

blood sausage scrambled
brains, head cheese, menudo, spam
olives ain’t so bad

-from Topic post, WRITING TOPIC – OLIVES

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Taking Jack To The Cemetery

           

Day of the Dead Gathering 2, pen and ink on graph paper, doodle © 2007-2008 by ybonesy. All rights reserved.

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Fish On A Plaque

Alberto Gonzalofishe, former Attorney General (appointed by George W. Bush) depicted as a fish on a plaque, doodle © 2007 by ybonesy. All rights reserved.



-Inspired by PRACTICE: Fish Out Of Water – 15mins

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Bethanny, On A Diet (Again)

            
Bethanny and Grapefruit, pen and ink on graph paper, doodle
© 2007 by ybonesy. All rights reserved.

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PRACTICE: Las Dos Chicas

Las Dos Chicas, pen and ink on graph paper, doodle © 2007 by ybonesy.
All rights reserved.

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PRACTICE: Breakfast At Beto’s

Breakfast at Beto’s, pen and ink on graph paper, doodle © 2007
by ybonesy. All rights reserved.

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Old Lovers

–Viejos Amantes, ink and watercolor painting, © 2007 by ybonesy. All rights reserved.

-Related to post Marriage, Not Prozac?

–from Topic Post, Rich In Ritual

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Practice: Santo Nino de Atocha

Santo Niño, pen and ink of Santo Niño de Atocha, patron saint of prisoners and persons in danger, doodle © 2007 by ybonesy. All rights reserved.




Santo Niño de Atocha descriptions

• Devotion to the Santo Niño
• Saints of the Pueblos by Charles Carillo
• Santo Niño de Atocha Called Miracle Worker, by Heidi Jassco

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One Journal, Ten Thousand Journals

I’ve been wanting to do a post on the power of journals for some time now, ever since I read this article in the May/June issue of Poets & Writers. It’s about Brian Singer’s 1000 Journals Project. Here’s the gist: one thousand journals are sent into the world. Some are sent to friends. Others are left in public places. The journals land in the hands of artists and writers and average Joes; they’re filled and when they’re complete and available for viewing, we discover each page in each journal is a piece of art. Collaborative art.

I love this idea that people are making art separately and together out of something they find. What I love even more is that it’s something as ordinary as a journal. Nothing to fret about. No worries about perfection. It’s a page in a notebook. After you paint on one page, there are a whole bunch of pages left just waiting for you to take your pen and scribble. Doodle. Do whatever you want. And when that page is done, there’s another, then another.

This idea of “journal as art gallery” is enticing because it is so impermanent. Nothing to be framed and hung. Nothing to publish or sell. Always another page, and every page your own.

During a year-long writing intensive with writer and teacher Natalie Goldberg, I kept a journal to track my daily practice. All of us in the intensive did. Days we practiced—writing, sitting, or walking—we noted what we did and for how many minutes. We also recorded days we skipped.

I loved the journal part of our commitment to the intensive. I liked picking out my book. I settled on something mid-size and thick yet flexible, with a bright red vinyl cover. The pages were graph paper. For me the journal signified witness–witness to the fact that I showed up. It added structure to what was already a year of discipline.

Something broke free in that structure. I suddenly found myself doodling like I did when I was younger. I’d open my journal while at work sitting in a meeting and I’d draw the fellow giving a presentation, or I’d draw my hand. I got into inking typefaces, serif and san serif. Flowing, flowery cursive. Tight, narrow lettering.

I played with the headers for each day of the week. Sometimes I stamped them out with alphabet stamps I bought for the girls at a paper store. Or I wrote the days in a loose freehand.

I threw in color. Some days if I went somewhere interesting, like the time I took Dee and Em to see the Mexican Modern exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts in Santa Fe, I included a memento. The journal reminded me to be present, and any time I was cognizant of this effort to be present, I documented it as practice.

Once the intensive was over I stopped keeping track of my writing. I stopped recording my creative process. I still have my journal. I still have notebooks for my writing, and I have a painting notebook as well. I haven’t stopped writing or painting or doodling, although I have lost the structure. I’d like to get back into recording my practice, maybe once I settle into the new house. Once my life becomes sane again.

I’m struck by how for me the journal became a creative medium in and of itself more than simply a record of my work. It was like verb and noun all rolled into one.

I’ll let you know when I get back into it. Maybe we can start it up together. In the mean time, if you have a chance to keep a journal—a hard-bound book in which you draw, paint, make collage, and write—give it a try. Make it be about more than just the journal itself. Log your progress toward practicing your art. I think you’ll enjoy the process.

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The Horse Is Bigger Than Me

When I was little I had a horse
It was a stuffed horse
I pretended I could ride it but I never learned
In my dreams I am riding the horse bareback
I feel like a boy again but I am still a man

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The Ten Secrets Of Green

1. Green frijoles don’t cause gas
2. Toads and frogs are cousins to insects
3. Everything I know about green I learned from a diaper
4. The NM state question–do you know what it is?
5. If you like it both ways, it’s called Christmas
6. If U.S. paper money were pink or orange like in other countries, we might not be so greedy
7. Green’s not a good camouflage in the desert (ask a horned toad)
8. My mother taught me that when your nose slime goes from yellow to green, it’s because your virus has turned bacterial (and it’s time to go on antibiotics)
9. Dad is the green thumb of the family; Mom has toe thumbs
10. I’m not as green as I’d like; it’s hard being green

-from Topic post, Greening

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Gangrene Isn’t Green, Is It?

I remember taking a workshop in Taos with Rob Wilder. He took us in groups into the log cabin at Mabel Dodge Luhan House and had us write down everything we could think of related to certain adjectives. He stood at the front of the room like an army sergeant monitoring our progress. “Don’t stop,” he barked now and then. For the word “yellow,” I wrote lemon, sour, pee, urine, yellow snow, yellow fur, fox fur, yellow mellow, yellow polka dot bikini…and so on. When yellow was done he threw out another word.

I’ve been painting these past three weeks, mixing colors with my Pelikan 12-color paint set. Colors are like words. Maybe there are finite shades of green, but I’ll never know all of them in my lifetime. I used Paint to make a collage of the various greens I’ve dreamed up of late with my real paints. I’m green when it comes to green, I realized.

Olive green and army green, sage and the color of money. Quinces and pears, Granny Smith apples, celery, cucumber skin, canvas (tents and sleeping bags), seafoam green, emeralds. Lime green, Kelly green, yellow-green snot.

I’m not anywhere done with green, but I figured I’d better get started.

-from Topic post, Greening.

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Shoes Stay On #3

Inspired by this topic.

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Shoes Stay On #1

First in a series. Inspired by this topic.

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