Question, were you raised a Creative Kid?

This is a “Twice Weekly” newsletter I received from Robert Genn. I’ve enjoy his words of wisdom for many years. As a parent, this one about Creative Kids struck a chord with me and I felt it may have supportive thoughts for some of you. It was for me, as I looked back at how my parents intuitively hit most Richards points.

This is a reflective piece from Robert Genn, currently standing strong to win his battle with the Big C.

Please enjoy his words of wisdom in how he raised three creative children. His words reignite with me having raised three creative siblings. I hope you too had a similar experience raising Creative Kids. It is kind of nice to know you’re not the only parent on the planet dealing with these objectives. As parent we are a band of kindred spirits.

Creative kids! 

February 21, 2014

Dear Mary,

In the art of parenting we all begin as amateurs. By the time we turn pro, it's generally too late. Carol and I managed three out of the box: a filmmaker, a musician, and a painter. All are apparently flourishing. Here are some ideas we bumped into while getting lucky with creative kids:

Show is always better than tell.
Your kids already know your opinions.
Kiss them regularly if they'll let you.
Be alert when they approach you with ideas.
Encourage them to colour outside the lines.
Keep in touch. Let them know where you are.
Let you and your spouse be sails, not anchors.
Field trips are more valuable than classrooms.
One of the best things you can say is "try it."
Non-judgmental curiosity beats seasoned guidance.
When kids hang out in the studio, you pick up tips.
Let the kids visit with weird friends and relatives.
The development of imagination requires their privacy.
Always have materials available. Try not to be stingy.
Encourage enterprise. Let them make and sell lemonade.
They understand if you travel during the drum-set stage.
A kid's opening sentences are not always topic sentences.
If they don't know what you think, they are likely to ask.
From time to time be dull and stupid. The kids will rally.
Before making suggestions, give it some thought. They have.

Last summer, a man I had never seen before knocked on my studio door. With a sly smile he told me he had nine of my daughter Sara's early paintings. It seems that years ago he had been walking by and purchased them directly from her. She was creating and selling them at a small table out on our lawn. At the age of six, Sara's works were 25 cents each, or nine for $2.

Best regards, 

Robert Genn 

PS: "Your children are not your children.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls.
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, even in your dreams.
You are the bows from which your children, as living arrows,
are sent forth." (Kahlil Gibran)

Esoterica: This letter is a repeat of one from May 17, 2002. As far as I can see, the ideas in it still apply. As I write this, Sara is in her New York studio painting a giant fibreglass egg. She is one of about 200 artists chosen to contribute to upcoming "The Big Egg Hunt" in New York City. James is leaving his television directing and producing in Toronto for a few days bonding in Vancouver with the Bob-badger. He's on the plane as we speak. Dave has just this minute shut down his music studio for the day so we can chat each other up on the way to and from chemo. So much creativity is going on, I'm finding it difficult to be ill.

If you like, send warm thoughts to Robert for him to accomplish, at this point in his life, his Highest and Best Good for his present time, his future and a life well lived.

February is almost gone and soon Spring will springs eternal.

Have joy, laughter and grace in your everyday live

Mary Dove

www.marydoveart.com

www.mary-dove.artistwebsites.com

Bye for now.

Here is a Valentine Love poem from Barb Wiatrak Young, friends from our high school days. Share her warm thoughts of how to say I Love You.

 How Do You Say I Love You..

by barb wiatrak-young

How do you say I love you,

To speak the true words from the heart,

Feelings so deep and poignant,

Just where and how can you start...

Love isn't words or just phrases,

Or a glance and maybe a smile...

Love is a myriad mix,

Of caring and sharing the while..

Love isn't some little token,

Or a gift of glittering gold,

If warmth isn't filling the heart,

Gifts are useless and cold..

Love is a mix of so many things,

A kiss, a smile, and some tears,

Kindness, and patience, & caring

Quieting each other’s fears..

Love is a touch of the hand,

A glance from sparkling eyes,

Laughing and crying together,

Love is a gracious surprise...

Love is knowing the feelings,

That make up the other ones heart,

Missing, and wishing and longing,

Whenever you two are apart..

Love is a mixture of life’s seeds,

That you must nurture with care,

It’s the sweet & warm satisfaction,

That someone will always be there.

And when twilight comes stealing,

Taking the sunshine and dawn,

Its knowing that love is forever,

And that will help you go on..

I've missed connecting with you. It is now the middle of the art season, always a busy time. I am currently showing in three Phoenix juried shows with two show deadlines due the 1^st of March, entries to be juried for Spring Shows.

With this opportunity, here’s wishing you a most enjoyable Valentine Day.

"Laughter is the sun that drives the winter from the human face."  -- Victor Hugo.

Mary Dove

www.MaryDoveArt.com

www.mary-dove.artistwebsites.com

Bye for now.

Christmas Eve is here. Where did the Year Fly?

Here at the end of the year, we reflect with gratitude, on a time and space where we were blessed with many opportunities.

Warm Wishes for a wonderful Holiday Season with family and friends.

A time and space to create new memories; a time and space to build a stronger emotional foundation with focus to carry into 2014.

Happy Noel

Trumpet Vine with Donkey Ears Cactus

Oil Painting

(Juried into the February Phoenix International Sky Harbor Museum)

I would love to introduce you to my friend Linda Thompson. She comes forward in to my life from my past as a Mortgage Banker. She too loves to write. Here are her Christmas thoughts share with you.

Meaning of Christmas

It’s midnight and I lie awake pondering life,

Wondering the deeper meaning of Christmas.

A voice from within said, “Go on a journey”.

And gently the voice set the course for my quest. 

You are walking in the Forest of Living Trees

…….so adorned with sparkling snow.

Their branches fold around you like wings of angels

…….you feel their Infinite Love.

Their roots go deep into the nourishing earth

…….you are one with their soul.

They will help guide you on your quest

……it is their journey, too.

In silence and amazement you look for the journey

The air is cool and clear, you breathe deep

Brighter than the morning sun the moon shows you a Path

Stars glistening from above light up the trees

You see life’s familiar scenes play along the way

…..they soon pass from sight.

That paradigm no longer seems important

……you let it go.

You ask “Where am I going? What is my purpose here?”

…..You have awakened, my dear.

You reply “What do I do now? Which way do I go?”

……. Explore possibilities and create your new path.

Suddenly the Winds of Change begin to shift

The snow is swirling in musical complement

The winter birds sing “Be Light, Be Light”

Reindeer dancing in laughter kiss your heart in merriment 

With compassion and wisdom you feel the Oneness

……a new paradigm is here.

Iridescent Rainbow Lights shine far and wide

…….around and within you.

A Golden Light comes into view, ever so close

……it’s Brilliance touches you

Before you appears a Divinely Beautiful Child

……and whispers a message to you 

Listen and Trust.  What is your message?

I share my Heart Love and Divine Light with You

Merry Christmas 2013 and Happy New Year 2014

Linda J. Thompson

So from Arizona and California

Merry Christmas and Seasons Greeting to ALL

Mary Dove

Bye for now.

This may be a break in the stress of the holidays.

 A look back in time to be shared with the young and the young at heart; maybe this will help the young better understand our live experiences and where we come from as the foundation of who most of us are today. They may even get a chuckle out of our growing up experiences. Maybe a few may even say, “Neat, wish I could be free to have that much fun.”

Enjoy a look back into the time capsule.

This is another one of my High School friends, Johnnie Tarver. Pass it on and give him credit.

Memories to be enjoyed by all ages!

'Someone asked the other day, 'What was your favorite fast food when you were growing up?' 'We didn't have fast food when I was growing up,' I informed him. 'All the food was slow.' 'C'mon, seriously. Where did you eat?' 'It was a place called 'at home,'' I explained. 'Mom cooked every day and when Dad got home from work, we sat down together at the dining room table, and if I didn't like what she put on my plate I was allowed to sit there until I did like it.' By this time, the kid was laughing so hard I was afraid he was going to suffer serious internal damage, so I didn't tell him the part about how I had to have permission to leave the table. But here are some other things I would have told him about my childhood if I figured his system could have handled it:

Some parents NEVER owned their own house, wore Levis, set foot on a golf course, traveled out of the country or had a credit card. In their later years they had something called a revolving charge card. The card was good only at Sears Roebuck. Or maybe it was Sears & Roebuck.

Either way, there is no Roebuck anymore. Maybe he died. My parents never drove me to soccer practice. This was mostly because we never had heard of soccer. I had a bicycle that weighed probably 50 pounds, and only had one speed, (slow). 

We didn't have a television in our house until I was 12. It was, of course, black and white, and the station went off the air at about 10, after playing the national anthem and a poem about God; it came back on the air at about 6 a.m. and there was usually a locally produced news and farm show on, featuring local people. 

I was 15 before I tasted my first pizza, it was called 'pizza pie.' When I bit into it, I burned the roof of my mouth and the cheese slid off, swung down, plastered itself against my chin and burned that, too. It's still the best pizza I ever had. 

I never had a telephone in my room. The only phone in the house was in the living room and it was on a party line. Before you could dial, you had to listen and make sure some people you didn't know weren't already using the line. Pizzas were not delivered to our home. But milk was. 

All newspapers were delivered by boys and all boys delivered newspapers --my brother delivered a newspaper, six days a week. It cost 7 cents a paper, of which he got to keep 2 cents. He had to get up at 6AM every morning. On Saturday, he had to collect the 42 cents from his customers. His favorite customers were the ones who gave him 50 cents and told him to keep the change. His least favorite customers were the ones who seemed to never be home on collection day.

 Movie stars kissed with their mouths shut. At least, they did in the movies. There were no movie ratings because all movies were responsibly produced for everyone to enjoy viewing, without profanity or violence or most anything offensive.

If you grew up in a generation before there was fast food, you may want to share some of these memories with your children or grandchildren. Just don't blame me if they bust a gut laughing.

When my mom passed away in her things I found a old royal crown bottle.

In the bottle top was a stopper with a bunch of holes in it.. I knew immediately what it was, but my daughter had no idea. She thought they had tried to make it a salt shaker or something. I knew it as the bottle that sat on the end of the ironing board to 'sprinkle' clothes with because we didn't have steam irons. 

Man, I am old. How many do you remember? Head lights dimmer switches on the floor. Ignition switches on the dashboard.

Heaters mounted on the inside of the fire wall. A real ice box; pant leg clips for bicycles without chain guards. Soldering irons you heat on a gas burner. Using hand signals for cars without turn signals

Times were good and we had tootsie rolls that came cut so you could share with a friend and a country who believed in "In God We Trust"

From Facebook by Johnnie Tarver – Pasadena High School class of ’57 and this would be Pasadena Texas.

Hope you enjoyed this reality check. Feel free to copy to share with friends and today’s teenagers. Just give Johnnie Tarver credit.

Hope you enjoyed this time capsule.

Happy Noel to Each and All

Mary Dove

Bye for now.

A Seasonal Poem from Barb Wiatrak Young 

It looks as if Barb Wiatrak Young (reminder we were in high school together) is becoming my blog poet. Most often she creates words that speak to her at times of seasonal events. This is her poem, for the Christmas Season, shared with graduates of Pasadena High School, Pasadena Texas this December.

I encourage and support all creative efforts. The process of writing is the same process the artist travels when painting an image just using a different tool.

Story of Jesus

by barb wiatrak young

Tell me the story of Jesus

That story of long, long ago

About the star in the heavens

Lighting where the shepherds should go.

Tell me of that lowly stable

Where the son of God laid his head

Of the manger all filled with hay

And how the shepherds were led.

Tell me of that first Christmas morning

How the light of heaven was there

How Mary held her precious son

Little Jesus so sweet and fair.

Tell me the story of Jesus

Why he came to this earth

Of the miracle of blessed Mary

And the story of His holy birth.

Tell me how much He loved us

So willing to die in such pain

So all of God’s children could live

And be in His presence again.

Tell me how Christmas is precious

Not what we buy or amass

Not all of the tinsel and trimmings

For some have forgotten, alas.

Christmas is the gift of our Savior

That we might remember the cost

From the time of His sacred birth

So not one soul would be lost.

Yes tell me the story of Jesus

My brother my Savior my friend

Tell me of life everlasting

A life that never will end..

Yes tell me that precious story

Over and over again...

Happy Noel to Each and All

Mary Dove

Bye for now.