Their lives were fleeting and would be gone with next rain, or sooner if a neighbor washed their car with a little too much water. But there, for a few brief days, they were a family. They looked out for each other. They played. They loved. They thanked their creator for giving them that opportunity and they didn’t fret over how short a time they had. Some life was better than none at all.



Another entry from the Santa Barbara Chalk Art Festival a couple years ago, or maybe last year, I don’t really remember.  Life in the toddlerocracy can be a blur at times…  Anyway, this one called out to me while we were walking around admiring the art.  If you’ve followed any of my camping and backpacking adventures, you know that I’m a sucker for reflective water.  I really like the way that is captured in this work.  The muted tones.  The movement of the water.  The streaks of light.  I find it beautiful.

I’m by no means a beach bum.  My heart belongs to the mountains.  But, there is something romantic and magical about the ocean and cities by the sea.  It is likely high on the list of reasons why I’ve never left the coast to live elsewhere.  Yet.  One day I will.  When that day comes I am glad to know that I will have art like this to remind me of the beauty I have been able to witness firsthand.

Perhaps not


Chalk fox, staring intently at me,
With eyes so piercing blue,
I took your picture for a friend.
You know who.

Chalk fox, drawn on the parking lot,
With knowledge in your eyes,
You would not survive the next rain.
Truth has more power than lies.

Chalk fox, surrounded on both sides,
But your eyes were only fixed on me,
I could not save you on that day.
However, now the whole world can see.


I truly did take this picture for a friend when I saw the fox perusing the wonderful art at the Santa Barbara Chalk Drawing festival a couple years ago.  I sent it to her with a smile and then promptly forgot all about it.  While looking for photos to use for NanoPoblano I found it and immediately uploaded it to WP.  I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with it until I actually sat down and began to write.  I was suddenly intrigued by the idea that perhaps the artist was trying to make a statement that the lives we are leading as humans are infringing on the lives of the creatures we share the world with.  This fox was hemmed in on both sides by other drawings, it had no place to go.  Eventually, when the event was over, people and cars would occupy the same space until there was no trace it had ever been there at all…  Perhaps the artist was just drawing a beautiful picture of a fox.  Then again, perhaps not.

Just a little bit

Interrupting my regularly (pre)scheduled posting to bring you some art…

and a request…

because nothing is ever truly free…

and I have a friend in need.

Like what you are seeing?  Everything featured here is by the talented Lindsay of The Mad Tea Party in My Head.  She is currently looking to sell some of her art, and would love to do some commissioned work too.  Interested?  Pop over to her site, leave her a note and she’ll quickly get back to you.

Thank you!


The poetic dynamo, Hasty, was kind enough to write a duet with me. Head on over and check it out.


Another new duet partner.  Thank you for writing with me Matticus

Also, I am using an image I found of an artist named Khaled al Saai, who is incredible and I hope you check out his art site by clicking on the picture.

alsaii Calligraphy by Khaled al Saai

Written by Matticus and HastyWords

The ‘sphere, smooth, invitingly gleams,
Word by word, clean, I loose my waltz,
Rise and fall, elegant, a dream,
But the story spins, discord, the music halts.

The atlas upon which I had always spun,
Stood silent inside these forgotten halls.
Upset tapestries billowed curses at the sun,
As shadows wrote blasphemy on my walls.

Steps falter, unknown, across the floor,
Balance shifts, lost, gracelessly flails,
The line breaks, shattered, spills out its moor,
The written dance, chaos, slips the rails.

Rusty tears free form into a manic dive,
Smearing stains, blurred arcs, finding rest;
A spilled…

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