July 18-24, 2011

Can I Do This???-

July 25, 2011

You know the value of your life by how much it costs. The more you have to pay, the more it is worth. I’ve been attempting to live each moment purposefully. It makes everything taste sweeter. It seems that for those who have nearly lost their life, life takes on greater meaning. Having become abundantly aware of the value of this life as of late, I find when I injure it, it becomes doubly painful because I realize twice the pain.

“Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.”

Leaving my life that was defined by measurements for a life without boundaries is a hard mental jump; transitions are small but poignant. “How old are you?” Timeless. “What is your real name?” Who I am is not of importance, simply the message is of value.” These…I was prepared for. The insidious lingering defining characteristics of personality…namely one’s character defects, I was not prepared for. It is a lot harder to die to self than it looks.

I have come to a place where hurting others, or doing anything without compassion has become unthinkable. When I make a conscious choice, I have found myself making the compassionate decision regularly. To do otherwise seems abominable. But, it isn’t the conscious choices that I have struggled with as of late, but rather the patterned behaviors. The “how I get things done” familiar mindset. Questioning EVERY learned behavior is a bit of a daunting task. But, it is because of love, I want every choice I make to be one of a compassionate nature.

I failed at this last week. It saddened me to no end.

So, today as I went out running it was my intention to determine if I can or should bring oil paint on this trip. However, painting had lost all its joy. I had no peace. I am not perfect— I know that—I realize that. But bringing more pain into the world by such carelessness made me sad. Perhaps at the this point the curiosity of the reader is running rampant with questions of “What did he do?” In all sincerity something dumb, small, and probably something most people wouldn’t even think twice about, and yet that makes it all the more insidious.

It seems to me it is the patterned behaviors that are second to last to die. Taking the last of the milk, leaving the seat up on the toilet, being impatient with the guy at the check out counter, looking a girl/guy up and down, driving aggressively, etc. These things become so part of our personality, that we do them without thinking.

I believe the final removal of self in a compassionate life, and I don’t think that I have really dealt with this one yet, is our sense of entitlement, of what we deserve, what is fair, and what we should get.

So, today while painting, I was discouraged and wondering if I can do this whole trek. If I can’t do a simple thing like deal with impatience, how can I run around the country? In the book, “The Screwtape Letters” by C.S. Lewis, there is a great line that I’ve never forgotten.

“Discouragement is better than the sins that provoke it, for when we become discouraged, we become ineffective for change.”

Ultimately, the question remains: “This is my life, am I who I want to be?” So, I commit to change. I commit to living an examined life. I commit to the idea that all my actions should be ones seeking the greatest good, peace, and happiness for all. I commit to Love.

Dandelion-

July 24, 2011

The name dandelion dates back to medieval France. Noting the jagged edges of the plants leaves, the French called it “dent-de-lion”, meaning tooth to the lion.

This weed is resilient for a number of reasons. Its long, sick, tough, carrot-like root can burrow up to three feet underground making it difficult to eradicate. The Chinese call it “earth nail”. The flower head is not one Bloom, but are made up of hundreds of min-flowers, each independent of one another. These sunburst blossoms at the end of the stem turn into white, fluffy seed balls. They then blow off into all directions, spreading their seeds and finding root for the next year. The seeds are conceived without pollination or fertilization.

The leaves grow in a flat, rosette arrangement and only the hollow stalk shoots up to the present what appears to be a single blossom. The weed’s built-in clock is controlled by light, telling the flower to close each evening and to open again at sunrise.The resilient pest grows just about everywhere, and is extremely adaptable. You’ll find it in meadows, pastures, along roadsides, in highway mediums, in public parks, and grasslands. If you’re in the mood for picking, it shouldn’t be a difficult task.

Yet, the weed offers a little something for everyone. While the leaves can be plucked anytime, they are best in the early spring before the flower blooms and the leaves turn bitter. The spring roots are also tender. The best salads are made with fresh picked leaves, and our season like any other salads. They will be somewhat tangy and chewy. Some people even dip the leaves in batter and make dandelion fritters. The young leaves can also be cooked like spinach and served with the main course.

As the season progresses, the fall roots are much stronger. If you wash and dry the roots, then shred it in a blender, you can make dandelion tea. Some of claim that the tea helps people relax. If you roast the ground roots, you can make your own gourmet coffee substitute.

Dandelion wine became popular because it was inexpensive to make. It is made with the bloom making the best wine. Some families have followed this process from generation to generation. Others have used it for medicinal purposes. The dandelion has been on the list of home remedies for what ails you. American colonists found its broth eased digestion and worked as a mild of laxative.

The dandelion was one of the more than 2000 herbs that were used when the settlers came from England. The roots have been used in tonics and liver cures, as well as to stop infections, skin diseases, dropsy, and to settle the digestive tract. Dandelion juice was credited with removing warts, blisters, freckles and growing hair on bald heads and eyebrows.

Dandelions are not excellent source of vitamin A. They do contain some B-vitamins and contain proteins, calcium, iron, sodium, phosphorous and a decent amount of vitamin C as well as magnesium and potassium.

But, what concerns me most is what the dandelion represents. It will probably be the most stable food source I have for this run except for the kindness of strangers…they are everywhere. In addition, they also seem to be like the butterfly, and like me—they are metamorphic. They start as one thing, and become another. Once they make this transformation, their seed spreads to the corner of the earth. Only love is this persistent. Only peace can take root anywhere. Only compassion can be the “nail” that holds this world together.

The Map-

July 23, 2011

Here is the proposed route that I will be taking. As one can see there are a variety of routes to take through certain parts. “The worst thing to take sailing is a schedule” was advice given to me by my friend Tom. Off the boat the advice is still sound. This route is only that…directions, intentions, and points of interest for painting, national parks, and art museums.

I’ve always wanted to see the Olympic Forest, and so that is where I am starting. I loved Yellowstone so it is one of the last things I have the intention of visiting. A wise friend (Tom) advised me to always stay close to water, and always choose the path that leads to it. Again, sound advice.

I’ve always wanted to visit the National Portrait Gallery in DC as well as the National Gallery and other museums there. The Cleavland Art Museum has great holdings, as do the museums in Chicago. There will be many more I’m sure I will discover along the way. In addition, I’d like to meet as many artists as possible along the way.

I have intentions regarding the directions, sights, and time-line for this adventure, but I am open, amiable, and willing to that which best serves my true purpose and intention. Regardless of how many parks I see, museums I survey, and paintings I produce, there is only one real intention and purpose. To live compassionately. To do what I can to bring about peace. But, most importantly to love.

Maxine-

July 22, 2011

“ What’s in a name? That which we call a rose---by any other name would smell as sweet”

While painting in a garden today I was approached my Maxine and her husband. Out for their evening walk they looked over my shoulder to witness my employment. “The light”, I complained, “It keeps changing!” This had proven to be quite an adversary in painting this small rose. Maxine didn’t mind. She smiled at me with eyes of blue ash from beneath tresses of hair dyed black to conceal her age. She announced to me that she had just had her 75th birthday, and the doctors are shocked at my health.

“You see, I just had a stroke 3 months ago, and the doctors can’t figure out what is right with me, ” she proffered. But everything was right with her, she was happy, jubilant, and friendly. I told her of my travels, purpose, and vision for the future. “We need more young people like you. Are there more?” she queried?

“More and more are rising up everyday. People are coming to see that there is only one way; peace is the way.” I offered. I gave her the painting as a peace offering and a birthday present. She was reluctant at first, her good manners belied the truth, the truth that she was touched, and received the gift with much appreciation. She gave me a big hug, expressed the excitement regarding the perfect frame she had at home, and walked on.

Life is good. Giving is great. Peace is priceless.

Make Your Day Part 2-

July 21, 2011

Salem, Oregon- The mighty Willamette runs through this town carving a notch in the hillsides that are now turning golden in the late afternoon’s light. It is understandable why the first settlers made this land the state capitol. A verdant plateau provides higher ground from the tempestuous swelling from the river below after the spring melt, and loam soil so nutrient rich that even the Eastern transplants couldn’t help but be successful farmers.

The city is different now and a somber attitude and a general lack of friendliness pervades the faces and the customs of this historic state’s center. Whitewashed windows and vacant stores seem more the norm than the anomaly. Strip malls and drive-thru Starbucks, cleaners, and even bakeries dot the suburban sprawl, while the the downtown withers somewhat from its former glory.

It was in this downtown though that I was stopped by a group of young professionals out enjoying the summer evening over drinks and fries. A very cordial group, I could hear their laughter from blocks away. It was the hearty, friendly, unabashed laughter that makes you wish you were in on the joke and part of circle. Perhaps the beers had loosened inhibitions, but the merry group called out to me, “Another Peace Artist???”

I replied, “I think I am the only one. Why? Do you know another?”

“Yeah, me!” he replied with a broad grin of a man use to pulling peoples legs. He seemed to be the friendly older brother type, the kind that wouldn’t hurt a fly, but was always pulling someones chain for a laugh both could share. The rest of the group was sharply dressed, but wore it comfortably as if they were familiar with its trappings. The women in the group were very attractive in the non-forced way, and the men, seemed their befitting counterparts. In all there were six, and they seemed to be just leaving.

I gave them the general rundown of my intent and purpose. I told them of the plans and how it has been going so far. They seemed generally interested, and thankful to meet someone else that believed as they do. There was almost a palpable sense that they sympathized to such an extent that their running shoes at home were already laced up ready at a moments notice to join such an event.

And then, almost immediately, they wanted to help. They began digging through their wallets, and although I protested, I could not dissuade their fervor. I left them with the lesson I’d learned from Alison on Sunday, and I said, “I will only take it if you understand that if I see someone I think who has a need for it, I will give it to them. Or I will use it to buy art supplies so that I can do artwork for others.” This condition couldn’t have met with a more hearty and robust approval. And off I ran.

It only took me a couple of blocks before I saw a man that appeared to be in need. One could see his hands were badly crippled up as he sat upon his wheelchair ablaze with American flags. I saluted his patriotism, and struck a conversation. I learned a valuable lesson from Scaughdt while in Florida about approaching people in need and how to help them retain their dignity. I asked if he knew of anyone that were in need of some financial assistance. Asking in this way allows the person to accept the gift for themselves, but are unable to say so. He emphatically gave me explicit instructions about which church to go to which door would be open, and exactly who I was supposed to talk to.

Just as he had said, and just as he had directed me, the First Methodist church doors were open on the side and deep within the hallowed halls I found Miranda. Miranda was in the process of teaching some citizens of various sorts arts and crafts. I pulled her aside, told her of the man who gave the instructions, and ran out of the room before she had time to think or respond.

Earlier in the evening, I had tried to explain to my grandfather what I was doing, why I was doing it, and how. It didn’t go so well. I started the conversation poorly, but he at least understands the logistics. As I was running, I started questioning the endeavor. How would others understand if my own family doesn’t? Then I remembered:

“Only in his hometown, among his relatives and in his own house is a prophet without honor.”

Meeting the group of generous individuals, then 3 blocks later the man with explicit directions, and Miranda who was serving and loving the community all renewed my faith in what it is I am doing. For the rest of my run tonight, all I could think of was:

“Freely you have received, freely give.”

Make Your Day-

July 20, 2011

I wake up each day and am thankful. Each day I am grateful to the universe for all that I’ve seen, experienced, and been given.

I never used to be like that. Like most people I viewed today as merely a stepping stone to happiness that would arrive sometime tomorrow. Most of us grind through a monotony in our lives of waiting, longing, hoping for that vacation. We long for that beach chair, the piña colada, the good book, and the sexy partner to join us. We dream of beaches where we have next to nothing but are extremely happy, but we return home to our two-car garages that are so full of crap that we can’t even park in them.

We are pack rats. We always want more, that Ginzu knife that will make us happy. When I was a kid it was the Millennium Falcon, then it was bike, a girlfriend, a car, a house, a job, a degree, a career. I got them all…I wasn’t happier…I just wanted more.

What then changed? I stopped trying to make my day, and started trying to make them for others. I actively sought to make others happy even when I didn’t feel like it. I mean hell I’ve been trying to make myself happy with limited success for far too long with pitiful results. So what could it hurt to try to make another happy, happy despite what the consequences may be for me. I encourage you to try it. Give when it hurts, and give joyfully.

What has followed as a result has been nothing short of MIRACULOUS! It is very simple really, stop thinking of yourself, start thinking of others, loose your life in order to find it.

Today, I wanted to make someones day. I was really heartened by my friend Jeanne’s note the other day, so I thought that I would go and paint a flower and give it to her. That was my only agenda today—love a complete stranger. As it happens, just by “coincidence” after I delivered her flower there just “happened” to be a seminar on barefoot running taking place. Hmmmm, funny because I have been thinking of how to be more ecological in the whole trip, and especially when it comes to running shoes. I had some questions for the author/speaker afterward, and he was completely generous with me, and gave me a hug and gave me hints of how to solve my ecology and running shoe problem. Seek and you will find.

I was given $20 today, and I was looking how to use it for others. Buy more art supplies to do more works for others? Give it to some homeless people? Buys someones gas for them at the pump? How could I use it for the most good? I talked to Scaughdt later in the evening to congratulate him on his spectacular blog. If you haven’t read it, it is a must!

Scaughdt

He gave me an idea about what to do when people give you money in a restaurant, and your meal has already been paid for. He said he gives it to the waiter/waitress and asks them to use it for food for the next homeless people or those who can’t afford more food when they come in. I thought it was a spectacular idea!

So tonight finding no one to give the $20 to, I stopped into a local burrito stand to get a burrito. When the guy asked about my smock, I told him what I was doing, and he and the other girls working, bought me my burrito. I was stunned and floored by their generosity to me. I gave them the $20 bill and asked them to use it to buy the next homeless or hungry person they encounter a burrito. The cycle was complete. (By the way, that burrito tasted soooo good because it was made with love)

So, you want to be happy? You want to make your day? Seek to make someone else’s day. You cannot help but feel the love you give away.

More Wisdom from Scaughdt-

July 19, 2011

Can we set aside our “knowledge of Salvation” long enough to hear again the message of radical, active Kindness?

Can we set aside our need to “worship zealously” long enough to deeply Care for those who believe differently than we do?

Can we set aside our personal agendas long enough to re-experience the Peace of giving Love when it is inconvenient or frightening to do so?

We teeter today on a crumbling precipice – a collective choice that will determine the fate of our species. And that choice rests between our imminent destruction and our potential Divinity;

… between our suffering and our Salvation;

… between perishing and Peace.

Will we finally choose Love over our litanies?

Will we finally honor deeds over our dogma?

Will we finally choose service for others over our own “salvation”?

Will we finally start walking The Way instead of merely worshiping it?

I wonder …

Such a choice is never an easy one to make, especially in a society that encourages us to hope for so much while doing so little.

And yet, we all have that choice …

To engage Love over fear might mean persecution. It might mean poverty. And yet I believe the consequences of not walking this Way are far greater.

Today, I will do my part …

Today, I choose to Love.

The Story of Scaughdt-

July 19, 2011

My dear friend Scaughdt has compiled his trek’s profound learning, experiences, and musings into an absolutely profound opus or tome. I cannot say and words fail me to describe the intense joy and encouragement that I have derived from reading of his pilgrimage for love, peace, and radical kindness. The main content of which can be found on his website by following the the link:

Journey of the Numinous Nomad

Below is an excerpt from from the journey which I find not only inspiring, encouraging, and elucidating, but also challenging. It is with a deep feeling of gratefulness that I share my brothers words with you.

So, back to our story … There I was, having walked all day on nothing more than one cup of green tea, when I happened upon Pine Grove Baptist Church — and there were cars in the parking lot! Not more than a few hours removed from my decision to relay The Way of Jesus Christ to Christians, and I get my first chance to do so.

To be honest, I was more than a bit nervous as I entered the church and sat down in one of the front pews. I knew generally what I had to share, and yet how was I going to share it? And what if those hearing me got angry or became otherwise upset? Should I just stand up at an opportune pause in the preacher’s sermon and fire away? That didn’t seem Respect-full – and I knew that it was not the right way. But what was the right way? Jesus’ words from the Bible kept echoing through my head – “Do not worry about what to say or how to say it. At the right time you will be given what to say.” (Matthew 10:19 – see also Luke 12:11 & Mark 13:11) This calmed me somewhat, and I hunkered down to listen to the service and await my time …

As it turned out, my time came immediately after the service was over, when I simply stood with everyone else, turned towards the congregation, and announced that I had an important message to share. The room became completely still as all eyes turned upon me … “This is it”, I thought, as I took a deep breath and let something very similar to the following words flow from me:

“Greetings Friends!

I am currently on a long Pilgrimage – heading from Chattanooga all the way to southern Florida. I am walking on Faith, using no money at all as I go, and I am doing so to share some important information about The Way of Jesus Christ with everyone I meet along the way.

As your pastor mentioned in his sermon, one of the goals of any good Christian is to adhere to the teachings of the Apostle Paul – to worship Jesus Christ in order to attain personal redemption — to then enter Heaven after death and live there with God forever. This is indeed a fine thing, and I am sincerely happy that all of you seem to have attained this Salvation.

And yet one other all-Important questions remains – a question that every Christian must face and answer: Are you following The Way of Jesus Christ? Are you doing what Jesus wanted us all to do in the time between your redemption and your death? Are you practicing Jesus’ teachings in these times while you are still alive; in these few moments you have left before ascending into your eternal splendor?

It is not for me to answer this question for you. Indeed, how can I do so and remain “humble as a child”? Yet what I can do is what I have been Called by the Spirit to do – and that is to remind us all what Jesus commanded of us.

As we all know, Jesus gave us only two Commandments that must be followed for us to enter his Kingdom: we must Love God with all our hearts, and we must do so by loving our neighbor as ourselves. We have heard this many times – and yet what does this really mean?

We have all been taught that these Commandments mean that we are to be thankful for those friends and family closest to us – that we are to care for these “neighbors” with warm emotions and kind thoughts. And yet this is NOT what Jesus himself meant by these terms.

Jesus defined “Love” as a verb. “Love” for Jesus was not a thought or a feeling at all, but instead was a Good Deed one did for another. “If you understand these teachings, blessed are you while you do them”, he admonished in John 13:17. And his very first parable – the Parable of the Sower – makes it clear that those who are Saved are the ones who “hear the word and understand it, and who then indeed bear fruit” (Matthew 13:23). For Jesus, “Love” is an act of Kindness towards another — It is something that must be done, not merely felt or thought.

Even more importantly, Jesus defined “neighbor” only once in the entire New Testament – and he did so with the Parable of the Good Samaritan (see Luke 10:29-37). Here, the hero of Jesus’ tale – the one who qualifies as a “neighbor” – is a Samaritan, at that time the bitterest cultural enemy of the Jews. In addition, this Samaritan was a “neighbor” not because he was nice or friendly or moral towards another. No, he was a “neighbor” for Jesus because he “showed mercy” – something we can only do for another who has wronged us; for an enemy! For Jesus, then, the “neighbor” he references in his second Commandment is not a friend or a family member or even a fellow church-goer. The “neighbors” towards whom we are to extend our acts of Kindness are our enemies, those in our lives who are “least deserving” of our Love – those to whom we least wish to give the same.

In conclusion, we might indeed be Saved in the hereafter – we might indeed all enter Paul’s Heaven after our deaths. And yet the question that remains is: will we enter the Heaven of which Jesus spoke? Will we have the courage to follow his Commandments in these few moments we have left before we die? Will we have the courage to set forth this very minute and commence actively caring for those people in our lives whom we least admire – those who annoy us the most – those whose religious beliefs are different than our own — those treating us most poorly?

Let us all go forth tonight and begin our lives anew, not only as “good Christians”, but also as active followers of the Way of Jesus Christ.

For it is to this purpose that you have been Called by your Lord & Savior”

Well, as you can imagine, the room was pretty quiet when I got finished. Then the “spell” broke and folks began to disperse. Quite a few of them came up to me and asked me questions about the Pilgrimage – questions which finally got around to discussing how I was getting food without any money. I told them matter-of-factly that I was fasting until offered food, whereupon several of the ladies present began scurrying about to find me something to eat. They didn’t find anything for me, and yet just their sincerely caring intention to do so proved to be nourishing. Besides, I was feeling pretty “high” from my “sermon” and felt no hunger at all as I left the church.

And as I was bidding them all farewell and heading back out towards the road, a woman came up to me and gave me a pack of Ritz crackers and a bag of Skittles. I had to really work hard to compose myself & suppress the deep laugh that was begging to fly from my lips – as these were two of the foods that I had recently sworn never to eat again. “God certainly does seem to have quite the sense of humor!”, I thought. And with that, I headed down the highway, happily munching on crackers and candy.

…………..

And yet this wasn’t the end of the story.

I didn’t have long to walk before I saw yet another church – the Indians Springs Church of God. More cars were in the parking lot there as well, which meant yet another opportunity to share …

… so in I went.

This time, the service was in full swing by the time I got there, and it was quite the different vibe. There was a man uttering a charismatic prayer from the pulpit as I entered, many in the congregation were swaying, and one woman was accompanying him by speaking in tongues. This was pretty intense stuff, so I hunkered down in the back and honored their spiritual journey while waiting for my time to come …

And come it did, again as the service was ending, whereupon I once again stood calmly and gently boomed my message of radical Love – my call for others to actually walk The Way of Jesus.

Not only was I well received during my “sermon” (with many in the congregation openly supporting me as I spoke), but after I was finished a woman in the back pew asked if the entire congregation wouldn’t bless my Journey. I thought that this blessing would be some sort of prayer led by the pastor. Instead, I was called to the front of the church – whereupon the entire congregation gathered around, placed their hands upon me, and began blessing me vocally in unison.

It was a cascading syncopation of ululations, prayers for protection and well-wishes. Each utterance was unique – all of different content & cadence, and yet each somehow fit seamlessly together; playing its priceless part within their “Symphony of Salvation”. It really was quite moving, and I simply relaxed into the Love they were sending – eyes closed and hands raised to the heavens.

I remember praying as well, over & over again, to be used completely for the Highest Good of all – to be allowed to give my whole life for the betterment of Humanity.

It felt … simply … Wonder-full!

Needless to say, this experience was significantly more than I had bargained for when deciding to “speak to the masses”, and I left that holy place invigorated with a renewed sense of gratitude – both for this Pilgrimage, as well as for my amazing life in general.

And it was fortunate indeed that I had received this amazing boost of energy, for it was now dark, and there proved to be nowhere nearby for me to lay my head to rest … I had intended to walk to the next bench in order to get some sleep, and yet there were no benches to be found, so on I trudged through the night – a night that was becoming surprisingly chilly.

I did finally make it into Ringgold, where I came across the Midway Baptist Church. I drank some water from the outside spigot there, and then tried to sleep on a picnic table underneath a tent-pavilion behind the church, and yet it was simply too cold. Try as I might, I couldn’t fall asleep. So, shivering and now hungry, I got up and meandered down the road into the darkness …

There was one more attempt at sleeping this night, and that came on a bench just outside the main entrance to the Catoosa Baptist Tabernacle. Again, sleep eluded me – the bench was too short, it was under a street-light, and it really was freezing cold.

As I got up again to continue walking (it was the only way to stay warm), I put my hands into the pockets of my smock and felt something there – pulling out a five dollar bill that one of the members of the Indian Springs Church of God had surreptitiously placed there. Many members of that congregation had offered me money before I left them, and I had explained gently yet firmly that I would not be accepting any money at all for the entire trip. It must have been during the “hands of heaven” experience that one of them slipped that fiver into my smock. I had to laugh at the audacity of that maneuver, especially when I had explained very clearly that it was important that I not use any money on this Pilgrimage. And yet I knew the gesture was well-intended, and gave a prayer of thanks for its generosity as I folded up the bill and tucked it into the bush next to the bench where I had been resting. I had faith that someone would find it someday; someone who would be needing it much more then than I did now.

This selfless gesture gave me a glowing warmth from within, and I set out once more into the night – with a purse once more empty, and a heart once more full …

The Caravan-

July 19, 2011

Eugene, Oregon is not only the fulcrum of all that is Track and Field, but next to San Francisco, it is the closest one can get to the walking, breathing, living incarnation of the Grateful Dead and the Hippie movement. Hundreds of people from around the world and the nation somehow end up here, camp, park, smoke out, and play with their children. Their modes of transportation are usually a motor home that others would’ve relegated to the scrap heap, but with finesse and duct tape all things are made new.

On a single random street I wandered on to, I encountered 10 such caravans. The inhabitants of which were mostly white, dread locked, dirty handed, and with mismatching clothes. They are also kind, generous, inviting, amiable, and happy hearted for the most part. I sidled up to one such abode outside of which the occupants had strewn the chairs to take in the evenings cool. I saw that they had some children, and I asked if I could draw some pictures for them.

They generously offered me a chair, and asked their children to come out. The shy middle boy poked his head out first, not sure what to make of this stranger, his rig, or his getup. But, the younger brother, Russel, showed no such reserve and immediately requested, demanded really, a Teddy Bear. I drew a teddy bear holding a potted flower and he squealed with delight. He had me emblazon “Happy Bear” above it.

The middle sibling, Royal, now warmed up to the power of the pencil at his beck and call asked for a dragon, storming a castle, with a mote and a draw bridge. I was more than happy to oblige, and he ran off to show his prize to his mother.

My final drawing was for the shy older sister, Deedra, not wanting to impose when I asked for her request, said that I could just draw the same thing that I did for Royal. But, I asked her what she really wanted. She bit her bottom lip and shimmied from side to side on her hips, and then blurted out that she wanted a shack. Her father described the shack she wanted in detail to me. Apparently she has a fascination for the type, and he new it well from many previous conversations. I did my best to make her happy, chickens and all, and in the end her shyness had turn to smiles.

This thing called art, it really is magic. The truth is that I made something out of nothing. I made a teddy bear, a castle, and a shack out of my head, almost as if they just appeared upon the page. An older and wiser sage was sitting in the circle with me, and he began to do magic tricks with a coin for the kids. He too knew the power of delighting children; he too knew the power of kindness and compassion. Happy.

Main Navigation

Can I Do This???-

Dandelion-

The Map-

Maxine-

Make Your Day Part 2-

Make Your Day-

More Wisdom from Scaughdt-

The Story of Scaughdt-

The Caravan-

The World We Have to Loose-