Well, I tried. I really did love the flipcard layout that's been on display here for the past week or almost. Problem was, I find the posts are only half of my blog. The other half is the sidebar content: the moon phases gadget, the crossword puzzle (hey, I really really like that--I do it over at least once or twice until i can score at least 5,000 points. It's not so much getting the clues right as it is TYPING them. gah....), the weather reports from places in my heart, the links to some of my favorite commentary, the "blogs i love," and so on. I find I don't want to live without these very handy shortcuts to my own state o' mind. Also, I really want to pay more attention to writing my own content. For the last six months or so, I've mainly just been reposting wonderful items from other persons & places. The bright folks at Democracy for California's inventive offshoot, Democracy for Bell, for example, have run especially entertaining videos that I've passed on here because I think my readers (yes, all six of you) (you, too, Diana) would like them.
So today, now that I've banished the flipcard layout, I'm thinking what I want this blog to be. In the beginning, I had the notion to talk about the English language itself--thus the subtitle "Love Notes to the English Language." As usual, life intervened, and I have gone far afield from linguistics in the almost six years I've been blogging. Never underestimate the power of the monkey mind!
Anyway, the lovely portrait of the Frenchie in the upper left corner is "Mr. Clunk,"* a multi-media collage by my dear friend Martha's daughter Gretchen. Gretchen, an art & design grad, made it partly out of candy wrappers--she really LOVES candy. The gold parts came mostly from Rolo wrappers. The big Mr. Clunk portrait is on display over Gretchen's fireplace. (M. Le Clunk is her dog.)
It seems fitting that he can serve as an icon of what can be done with almost nothing at all but some glue, paint, a canvas, candy wrappers, a lively mind, a skilled hand, and a vibrant approach to life. I don't lay claim to any of these qualities--not all the time, anyway. Still, it's all part of a piece. Or pieces.
*with permission by the artist, who owns all the copyrights.
