Heart and Brains and Art

 We are chin-deep in the post-holiday doldrums with the flu and the snow and the somewhat tattered Christmas decorations. One section of lights on the tree is out. Chip just said, "When they ask me why I'll leave my wonderful wife I'll say because no one ever puts anything back where it belongs." He is looking for scissors to trim his frayed boot lace. Good luck. They could be anywhere with all the last minute wrapping that took place around here. I am coughing, sipping tea, and writing a thesis essay for my MFA about Marjorie Rawlings (The Yearling)  and her life and art and how all of her work was based on the small rural community she lived, and the people she lived with. Obviously, we are kindred spirits.  Then, on the radio I hear my friend writer and felt artist Pizza Joe promoting his one man show of stories and verse tonight at 7:00pm at the Chilkat Center for the Arts. (Don't miss it even if you have the flu, too.) When the announcer asks him about his philosophy of art, Joe says "God gave us brains and heart", and when we use them together we create something good that impacts other people in an entertaining, or moving, or thought-provoking way.  I want to cheer. Instead,  I holler back to my scissor searching husband that I love him, and will find the scissors as soon as I finish this paper. "Just tuck in the lace for now so you don't trip."  Joe is absolutely right about heart and brains and art, but sometimes living with a writer is not as enlightening as reading what we write.  


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