Thursday, January 17, 2013

That What Makes Us Different


I went to Texas Art Supply yesterday. I found a gold mine. You'll see some of it tomorrow, but the paper in the foreground is part of that mine's yield. I bought 8 1/2 x 11 sheets and cut them in half. I ended up with two sheets of lovely stationary for twenty-five cents. Well, four, if I use each side. I bought ten . . . *zip my lips* 

Today, I went to Teavana. The one in the mall across from my doctor's office. I was early, so I sat at a tiny table at the Starbuck's in the middle of the mall. I got to watch people over the rim and around my iPad for ten to twenty minutes. It's great for covert work. I enjoy watching people. I did it when I was an art student, so that I could learn to do quick sketches. 

I made a pot of tea a little while go, and while I sipped, I wrote one postcard and a letter. It happened so fast. Didn't even have to think about it. I used my new kitty tea cups. Did not open the jar of white honey, but . . . Oh, my goodness. Lance Armstrong is admitting that he lied. I believed him until now. Poor man. I suppose testicular cancer was a sign? 

Mail went out today: Letters, notecard, and postcrds. One package. I forgot to take photos, but it's okay. I will share this instead:


I put this little gem on a postcard to a friend. I should have kept it for myself, huh? Do you ever look back at a mail art creation and really see what you're saying? It doesn't have to be with words or letters, but just your overall unconscious message? I suspect that sometimes we send subliminal messages out into the world on a card or a letter, or even in a blog post. Not always, but often. The red limner was meant to be my signature, yet it ended up being a salutation, with a message for myself. Don't you just get what Lily Tomlin said? I'm living that. I no longer want to write 40 letters in a few days. So, I won't. I don't. Not any more. 


And, there is this. I misspelled this word so many times while working on this postcard. I still don't get why, but each time I corrected my mistake, I learned something new. Escriture kept running through my head as the correct way to spell it. Then, the ecriture feminine got to me. I googled it and learned something new. 7gypsies still enhances my life--as well as the little things I create. So, maybe I was meant to look at the bottom of the scrap of card stock I've saved after months, examine it, research the words, and try to fit it into what we do as women. (This one is just for the women, dudes.) It's interesting that men "cultured" mail art, yet so many women . . . No. Men re-invented it, yet women "cultured it." And, yes, we do write, not as men do, but as we are meant to write, because our brains are different. But, isn't that what makes even our letters, notecards, and postcards so unique and . . . desirable? We're different. That what makes us different, is what makes us   . . . What? Please. Fill in the blank for me? 

That, what makes us different, is what makes us __________.

Sincerely sincere,


Limner




12 comments:

  1. Funny what interesting secrets can be imbedded in a piece of scrapbooking paper! After reading the definition, and the description, it occurred to me what a blessing blogging has been to women. It is no longer necessary for a woman,(or man for that matter,)to submit their writing to a publisher for approval. No need to conform to the norm or change the way we write just to pass muster with the male dominated world of publishing. Women can write as women, can put their thoughts, hopes and aspirations out into the ether at the touch of a button, and miraculously it will find its way to an audience. I am hoping that this literary freedom will encourage women to be themselves, to write what is in their heart, to bring hope and beauty to the world.

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    1. Yes, my sister! That, is what I so ineptly tried to say. Well done. Thank you. I stumbled and you caught me. Sisters do that.

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  2. Doubt I'll be the only one that gives this answer ;)

    That, what makes us different, is what makes us...

    special

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    1. Thank you! I should cross stitch those words on linen, mat and frame them, and hang them where I can see them first thing when i rise, and they will be the last words I see before I close my eyes in sleep. Well said.

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  3. What makes us different is what makes us interesting?
    human?

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    1. ABSOLUTELY! We can write about the same thing and say it in a fresh, totally different way. I believe that is why we ask for our fellow bloggers' opinions. Another's take is rarely our own, so when one of us say we like a new stamp, or a particular post, I look for why, how, and wow. :) Thank you.

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    1. Yes! Soulful means expressing feeling or emotion, and that is what we do rather well.i believe spirit animates us, and our souls are our selves. Think of what we say through our words and the visual messages we express with collages, drawings, and embellishments. Our words and creations are soulful, indeed. Thank you.

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  5. Ahh, I love this entry! I could go on and on about some of it but I'll say that I get and love what Lily said and that, what makes us different, makes us unique and who we are. I love differences for without them there would be very little real conversation going on, I think!

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    1. :) You hit the nails on their collective heads!

      This just came to me: If we were all comedians, laughing would suck. If we all had the same job we would do it differently, feel different about it, not be good at it in the same way, or good at it at all. I always get why Liz Taylor had violet eyes. They would look like a nightmare in my sockets. If I played like MJ, I never would have found a husband, and if I were like Lance Armstrong, I wouldn't be on Oprah talking about it 'cause he's already saying it. Girl, I could go on too. But I won't. :D

      Thank you, Denise. I like differences so much. My mom used to tell me, why don't you be more like Betty. One day I told her, "Because I'm not her." She'd stopped listening by then though, so yep, I just proved one of your points. :)

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  6. That which makes us different makes us stronger. Or at least that's what you tell yourself in middle school when everyone thinks you dress funny, since it isn't the same as the other kids. Been there? I've taken up permanent residence there.
    And it can work out perfectly. :)

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    1. Absolutely. And it can make us stronger, if we are strong, if we have someone to help us realize the truth in that, and yes, I know how it feels when some think I dress funny. I say some, because there were always others who were "worse." I still dress funny. It breaks my heart when I hear of children taking their lives because they are different. Lordy, but I'd rather be different than regular any old day, and I think I knew it back then because I didn't change, but I sure hated that pink chiffon party dress I wore to school. It was a hand-me-down from an older cousin, and Mama couldn't say no. Didn't want to hurt my aunt's feelings. I could have, and would have, too, if I'd been listened to. Oh, you don't even want to hear about the shoes with the little heels. *cracking up here* I tell you, it's a wonder I survived my life.

      Yep. Look at me now. LOL. Well, maybe not, but in my book it's working out perfectly. On second thought: Am wearing a purple, maroon, and gray paisley fee neck pullover, black yoga pants, and blue and yellow and gray Merrell shoes. :) Write on!

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