Hierarchy of Love
If you stick around this site long enough, you will hear (read) me go on and on about love. Brought up by hippie-wanna-be parents in the ’70’s I was || close to being named Starshine. I was raised on movies like “Billy Jack” and “Jesus Christ Superstar” where love is the central them. Billy Jack was a Rainbow Warrior before rainbows were usurped by the Pride activists. Combine that with my childhood subscription to Highlights magazine and you can find the inspiration for my Illustration Friday submission this week: Hierarchy of Love.
My mother has fallen out of her chair laughing at this point, and my father is simply rolling his eyes.
Seriously, I had a ton of ideas for this topic. There are lots of things written for what to do about a creativity block, but not a whole lot about dealing with a creativity flood. I now have ten projects listed from three basic ideas, none of which I felt I could complete and give justice to by Friday, let alone by tonight. I have dutifully made notes about them and filed them away. Rest assured if I ever get around to completing one of them, I’ll tell you about it here.
EDM 109: Draw a flame or flames
Most of my earliest childhood drawings had to do with muscle cars with painted flames, and flames shooting from the pipes, and smoke rolling off the tires. They were all black as night with bright yellow, orange and red flames. Until I saw Grease (the movie) and then many of them were red, white, and silver. I still love flames on hot rods. Even my bike has flame tread on the tires. So does the beanie that I usually wear when I ride. The other beanies have either Jack Skellington or shamrocks on them.
Still laughing out loud! I love that sketch of you as a baby and the way the writing encircling the sketch mirrors the shapes of your parents’ arms. I bet they will be delighted when they see it.
Margaret Caton’s last blog post..EDM # 221 A hand-held game.
Just wanted to tell my side of the story about this crazy kid. Blade was spelling words at 2, reading books at 3, tested out of high school in the 9th grade, the youngest member of his mensa group at 13. Get this evil child to tell of how he and his friend built me a shelf in home-ec. This child had to be the mailman’s son. Raising him was a challange. He could play any musical instrument, sing, and has a photgraphic memory. Believe it or not, all you liberals, a war hero. Saved several soldiers lives in one firefight, and got a lot of medals. Was a combat medic as well as a soldier. Proud, maybe a little. Relieved, that his mother and I survived, maybe more. My sympathies go out to his beautiful young bride.
Margaret, thank you for your comments! As you can tell by the comment following yours, my folks are sort of proud of me.
Thanks, Dad. I love you too.
(Folks, my dad, THIS dad, was a mailman.)
One of your earlier posts was about the first 100 days and how much your art has changed since you started. Well, being the proud pack-rat that I am, as I go through things and packing in anticipation of our upcoming move I am sure to find each and every drawing you have ever given me! So I believe at some future date we will show the world just how much you truly have improved. Seriously, even my untrained eye can see the growth in your drawings.
Look out world. She’s gonna pull out the baby pictures! I love you too, Mom. ;)