Whimsical Musicians Drawings-Whimsical Angel Pictures-Critical Thinking-Creative Writing-Active Reading

The poem that caused me to create this lens:

"Creativity"

Critical thinking + creative writing + active reading...

What gifts knowledge and a bit of consideration for magic bring to me.
I prepared for my journey
my heart and soul.
I gathered the wisdom of mature women
insights of an older women's gallery of experiences
and put their notes inside my pocket.

I was met by strong objections from existing doubts
but alas
I decided to find fairies in art and myself.
I knew I could find the strength
so many stood behind me.
I certainly had the desire,
Saturn heard my call.

I tippie toed toward the moon,
better than any night in Paris.
I stepped onto a lighted skyline,
the Milky Way,
and found I was still breathing.

It was a miraculous sight,
the radiance of the the glowing roadway
stars that sat on air.
I took in spirituality
information that astounded me.
I was a fantasy fairy
and I was ready to know my wings.

A feeling that miracles could fly,
or fade as shooting stars,
nothing would be denied to me,
I had come too far.

I would designate communications
to my inner being,
take notes of all the events,
consequences, yet amazing achievements,
they outlasted any trophy the world below could give to me.

Examples of newness,
of potential and hope,
were understood and cradled by me.
I was not bound by scientific laws,
I was beyond them.
I stood gazing at a miracle,
rising from the grave of denial.

Critical thinking + creative writing + active reading,
such dear friends.
Indeed I will always acknowledge them.
Yet...as i step past the machine of this life,
seek the phenomenon of wonder,
the sensation of traveling to the moon,
knowing that I could step upon its shadow,
and survive,
I know I can do anything.
Mystics come my way!
I am blessed by what did not exist for me before,
and see what a vision can bring.

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

The pic is a 'self portrait'

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Albert Einstein and the Art of Creating:

"Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius -- and a lot of courage -- to move in the opposite direction."

~Albert Einstein

This quote fits so well within the creative realm. I think of all the times I have felt timid about what I knew was the right path in creating my own art.
Picking up a color that feels way too bright for my own nature, yet knowing it is the right color choice to make. I know that more each day.

The right choices are there within me because of critical thinking. I have read about art and written about it. I have slept with it and filled my dreams with it. It is who I am. Because of my interest that has been expanded upon, I am growing every single day. This is the case for all things of course.

When I started drawing? Do you think I knew or 'anyone' for that matter knows how to draw a straight line?

When a painting is finished and I see my choice of color was right, albeit abrasive to me at the time I have to laugh at myself.. again. I try to keep the whisper of "this is a step towards leaning, it is about problems solving" in my head, when I get frustrated with the art I am working on.

Everything in life takes an effort if one wants to succeed. Why would art be any different?

The answer is, it isn't.

So, unlock your creativity. It is alive and well and waiting to get out.

Read about your craft.. active reading about art gives you both incentive and knowledge.

Write about your craft... the more you write about it the more understanding you gain from what you are reading and practicing.

You will gain critical thinking from these efforts.

The more you do these things, the more you will be able to look back and see how much you have grown. Seeing how far you have come will also give you incentive to plunge ahead.

Excellence is attainable but NEVER perfection

So stop worrying so much, you don't have to be perfect.

If you think you have arrived at perfection? The party is over.

Remember, critical thinking+creative writing+active reading.

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Quotes from Leonardo da Vinci:

"Where the spirit does not work with the hand there is no art."

"Iron rusts from disuse, stagnant water loses its purity, and in cold weather becomes frozen; even so does inaction sap the vigors of the mind."

"The color of the object illuminated partakes of the color of that which illuminates it."

"He who possesses most must be most afraid of loss."

"A good painter has two main objects to paint, man and the intention of his soul. The former is easy, the latter hard as he has to represent it by the attitude and movement of the limbs."

"One can have no smaller or greater mastery than mastery of oneself."

"Poor is the pupil who does not surpass his master."

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Ahh Leonardo! Thank you!

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The art is mine .. not Leonardo's of course.. smile.

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"I Touched the Moon and then I Slept There"

I was so tempted
felt emotions that hummed.
I wanted to taste the moment
smell the scent
smother the lion in all who pursued me.

I touched the moon,
and then I slept there.
I thought I heard you singing.
It was way past midnight,
but I still decided to wait,
grant you entrance into my images of rain
and memories of storms.

I searched for a compass held inside my pocket,
that's where I keep my treasures.
I pulled out reams of paper first
poetry carefully written
and there
between the folds
tightly clad
my compass
my moral measuring tool.
I held it to the light
yet
could not decipher the rainbows
nor the thunder.

Tiny angels sing
I heard them in the colors
I held one in my hand as she was weeping.

I am that golden child she breathed
I am the smoke beyond the river
I am the token of the dragon
the dew
and the lace
that lines the trees
I am the unspoken poem.

Grace
I hold its measures
set music to my dancing
I am the figure that makes a shadow
behind a blinded curtain.

Beyond this day
and far off into the distance
I think I see her treasure.
I released her
set her on her way to finding answers
and moons to sleep on.

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

PS ALL of the art shown on this lens is mine. Check out my different links on this page to see more.

Aloha!!

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We all shift back and forth with on days and off days, days we just KNOW who we are, followed by down times where it is all unclear. Thus my poem:

"A Goddess of Greek Mythology Met Me at My Gate and I Embraced Her"

I wrote your name on a sidewalk
with the wax of a candle
its potential lit
gave me insight.
I had decided you were from my youth
a goddess from Greek Mythology
I lived in another time.
I felt mesmerized by your stairway
that led to open ideas.
Pretend?
Alas a story real
the ones that artists feel.

Eventually we all feel magic
embrace flower petals that fall on our skin
cherry blossoms, apple trees
rain.

Once in awhile a demon
evokes.
Once in awhile I allow her in.
Or is it out?
It makes so little sense
allowing her at all.
She, sensing my longings for fantasy
my trappings at times
I agree
and yet
she is an evil doer.

My world outside this one
delivers a soothing soul
inside mine own...
and she
this grim reaper dealer
delivers fatal letters.
She places them inside my armor.
Nasty witch she is in deed.

Pointing out flaws...
stars cannot possibly be counted
the moon cannot be relied upon.
The sun will let you down at times
gardens are not always green
roses moan
birds lose their way
and sometimes don't return again at all.
People are not always careful
with each others hearts
they forget?
Oh, pointing out flaws
it can feel overwhelming.

And the evil in me said,
"Do you think thats true
do you?
That magic can abound?
Despite your loathsome ways?"
And at that point
noticing the rain had turned to glitter
the kind one finds in a jar
it became tainted
and turned then into soot.
I had to confess ...
"No,
no, there is no dream."
I bowed my head
protecting my eyes
and held out my hands
for a softer hope.

After the day had ended
I walked back to the sidewalk
where I had written your name.
Candle in hand
lit now to find my path.
There on the pavement
still fresh
still visible
it looked the same
as when I first wrote it down.
I was once again reminded
that I
only me
could allow that demon force to sing
cause me to fall
and tell me rain had been tainted
and could no longer birth new roses.

I could only stand there
looking down on your untouched name
squinting my eyes I could see
that it was mine
it was mine own name.
And the soot turned to rain once again.
I felt it on my tongue.
I held out my hands
wetness filled my palms.
I licked up every last drop
that a promise had displayed.
If there were flaws?
I was no longer daunted by them.
The night brought me new stars
and oh! I could not count them all!
Chills and tears.
My candle had lost its light
but the moon would guide me home.
I had a list in my pocket
new flowers I would plant
and I would wait for tiny birds
fledglings of flight
who would indeed find their way back
just like me.

A goddess of Greek Mythology
met me at the gate.
I stayed up all night
under candlelight
drawing her lovely image.

28 March 2008
by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
copyright 2008

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Thank you for visiting my Squidoo lens.

Rainbows all day,

Kathy

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