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miafeliz for the prompting. And away we go...
Painting the walls I hate. I'm messy and I don't do it right, according to my DH. So I am happy to concede that chore to him. Artistic painting? It's been a few hundred years since I've done any. I spent a year at art school just after high school but you'd never know it these days. My attempts at art are few and far between anymore. There are a few watercolors I did many many moons ago and my mom has a gallery of my drawings on her living room wall still. Hard to beleive I once thought I could make a living doing art. I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up.
Only children all seem to dream about having siblings. I always wanted an older brother. Since that would have been impossible anyway, as I was a honeymoon baby, I give my characters siblings. And, just for the record, only children aren't always spolied. I was a well-behaved child, mostly by natural inclination, sometimes by coerecement or threat. I wonder how much of my selfish tendancies I would still have if I had siblings. Would they be worse or better? Would I still have this need for solitude? Would I be a better wife or friend if I had had those early interactions with siblings? All I can do is speculate.
I am that rarest of creatures. I am a Florida native. I'd love to travel and see other places, but this muggy, mosquito-infested chunk of real estate will always be home. I love the diversity and history my home has embraced over the centuries. From the Oldest City at St Augustine where the flags of four countries fly, to the cities and swamps of south Florida to the pine woods, oak hammocks and freshwater springs of my home area, it's all fascinating, and it's home.
Someday, I'll go back to Scotland. The cities, the landscape, the people; it was all so beautiful. I made so many new friends there and had the time of my life. It was quite the adventure for me, and my only trip out of the country, ever. I'm reasonably sure that if I were to settle there, I'd freeze to death the very first autumn, but it might be worth it to see a place that I love in all its facets. I could spend all my time walking the streets of Glasgow and Edinburgh, or be just as happy walking along the road in the Highlands someplace, watching the cows watching me as I walk by. It's all good.
The vestiges of my artistic abilities now find expression in words. It's what I do, like breathing. In a perfect world I would be a successful novelist, but for now, until I actually finish something, it is enough to give voice to those people that live inside my head and tell me their stories. I don't know what my chances are for ever getting published, but I know what I write is at least better than the dreck that gets written for the average movie on SyFy. Kurt Vonnegut I ain't, but I like to think that I'm a good storyteller at least. Some agree with me; it remains to be seen if anything more will ever come of it. Like I said, I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up.
miafeliz for the prompting. And away we go...Painting the walls I hate. I'm messy and I don't do it right, according to my DH. So I am happy to concede that chore to him. Artistic painting? It's been a few hundred years since I've done any. I spent a year at art school just after high school but you'd never know it these days. My attempts at art are few and far between anymore. There are a few watercolors I did many many moons ago and my mom has a gallery of my drawings on her living room wall still. Hard to beleive I once thought I could make a living doing art. I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up.
Only children all seem to dream about having siblings. I always wanted an older brother. Since that would have been impossible anyway, as I was a honeymoon baby, I give my characters siblings. And, just for the record, only children aren't always spolied. I was a well-behaved child, mostly by natural inclination, sometimes by coerecement or threat. I wonder how much of my selfish tendancies I would still have if I had siblings. Would they be worse or better? Would I still have this need for solitude? Would I be a better wife or friend if I had had those early interactions with siblings? All I can do is speculate.
I am that rarest of creatures. I am a Florida native. I'd love to travel and see other places, but this muggy, mosquito-infested chunk of real estate will always be home. I love the diversity and history my home has embraced over the centuries. From the Oldest City at St Augustine where the flags of four countries fly, to the cities and swamps of south Florida to the pine woods, oak hammocks and freshwater springs of my home area, it's all fascinating, and it's home.
Someday, I'll go back to Scotland. The cities, the landscape, the people; it was all so beautiful. I made so many new friends there and had the time of my life. It was quite the adventure for me, and my only trip out of the country, ever. I'm reasonably sure that if I were to settle there, I'd freeze to death the very first autumn, but it might be worth it to see a place that I love in all its facets. I could spend all my time walking the streets of Glasgow and Edinburgh, or be just as happy walking along the road in the Highlands someplace, watching the cows watching me as I walk by. It's all good.
The vestiges of my artistic abilities now find expression in words. It's what I do, like breathing. In a perfect world I would be a successful novelist, but for now, until I actually finish something, it is enough to give voice to those people that live inside my head and tell me their stories. I don't know what my chances are for ever getting published, but I know what I write is at least better than the dreck that gets written for the average movie on SyFy. Kurt Vonnegut I ain't, but I like to think that I'm a good storyteller at least. Some agree with me; it remains to be seen if anything more will ever come of it. Like I said, I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up.
