#1/52 Weeks: Hearts and Flowers
My first picture for my 52 Week Project. Orla sitting at my desk drawing hearts and flowers. This is her favourite thing, to get in my workroom and mess with my stuff. My workroom/studio is very much my inner sanctum and generally she is now allowed in there. However, behind her on one wall of my studio, is all her work, paintings and drawings, so what can I say. She makes her presence felt everywhere 
Happy New Year – A Message by George Carlin
The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways , but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.
We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.
We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much or too little, love too seldom, and hate too often.
We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life. We’ve added years to life not life to years. We’ve been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We’ve done larger things, but not better things.
We’ve cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We’ve conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We’ve learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.
These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete…
Remember; spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.
Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.
Remember to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn’t cost a cent.
Remember to say, ’I love you’ to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.
Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.
Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.
AND ALWAYS REMEMBER:
Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.
#46/52 Something to be thankful for…
I am so behind with my 52 Week Project, it doesn’t bear thinking about. Reasons being, life, life, busy, busy, things to do etc, etc, etc. However, recently my little girl was quite poorly. It’s been quite a while since she was ‘proper’ ill. I suppose in some ways Luke and I had relaxed somewhat since the days of the horrific fevers after she had pneumonia, lulled if you like. Anyway, she was a very poorly girl. Off school for two weeks and despite that she is back there now, still pale and fretful. But, I cannot express the joy one feels when you see the love of your life on the mend, smiling again and looking happy. To illustrate this, here is my week 46 piccy, my Orla, sitting on her pink bed, pretty in pink and clutching all her ‘Puffs’ made by the lovely Kittypinkstars‘.
Warning – When I am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple
I read this poem many, many years ago when I was at school, and it stayed with me. I decided that when I was approaching a certain age, that I would adopt this very policy. As I am now in my forties and fifty is imminent I think it is now time to cultivate my batty and eccentric persona. I believe I now qualify to join the Red Hat Society. I have a red hat, but yet no purple. This shall of course be remedied.
When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple
with a red hat that doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
and satin candles, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired
and gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
and run my stick along the public railings
and make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
and pick the flowers in other people’s gardens
and learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
and eat three pounds of sausages at a go
or only bread and pickles for a week
and hoard pens and pencils and beer nuts and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
and pay our rent and not swear in the street
and set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
By Jenny Joseph
Breachfield, Shaftesbury – September 2011
I made this. Enjoy.
Lorrie Whittington
Visual Artist and Designer
Chichester, UK
