Two Birds and a Boy

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My Artwork – V. Castellanos – pencil on paper – 3″ X 3″ – December 2018

The debt we owe to the play of imagination is incalculable.” – Carl Jung.

What are we? Creating our own reality out of our thoughts, desires, fears, beliefs? Where do we end and they begin? Or, are we all one and the same thing?

 

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Either Or – Make up your Mind

 

Heads are flipping up. Tails are falling down. Should I go out to the river? Should I go into the town? If I should go out for a swim, should I float or should I drown? Should I wear a pretty dress, a long, white robe or a lacey gown? Should I wear a worried look? Should I wear a dismal frown? Should I dance like a dragonfly or dress up like a clown?

Should I get out of bed this morning? Should I open up the door? Should I have a cup of coffee? Then, should I have more? Am I entertaining or, am I really just a bore? Should I dance upon the ceiling, walk on the walls or just sit on the floor?

Should I become a spider, a beetle or a bee? Should I paint the house today or should I climb a tree?

When it comes to say goodbye, should I try to cry or wipe my eye? Should I go away by automobile? Should I take a train or fly? Should I boil or broil or bake a cake? Should I stew or should I fry? Should I always tell the truth? Should I sometimes lie?

I need to know. Should I stay or go? I need to make a choice. Should I go or stay? And, what should I say? Do you think I should to raise my voice?

Should I shake and make a dreadful noise or confound with a sweet and delightful sound? Should I make you guess and guess again or should I tell you what I found? The rollercoaster is fast and fun, in fury and flash from the sky to the ground, While the carousel’s singing a bright, pretty song but, it just goes round and round.

Waiting by the Frog Pond

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“The Frog Pond” – pencil on paper – 8″ x 4 1/2″ – July 2018

The Frog Pond is full of frogs. They can be very noisy but they have nothing to say. They are waiting for the evening. They are waiting for rain. They are waiting for the fun to begin. They are waiting to turn into stones. They are waiting for the end of the world. They are waiting for the fall. Waiting for a love letter. Waiting for the door to open. Waiting for a miracle. Waiting for a chance. Waiting for the last dance. Waiting to be declared the winner. Waiting for the martians to land. Waiting for the omnibus to arrive, for the carousel to start, for the ferris wheel to begin, for the day after tomorrow.

I am not waiting any more.

Masquerade

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“Masquerade” – pencil on paper – 6″ x 4″ – June 2018

Masquerade, a masked parade. Don’t hold your breath. Don’t be afraid.

Music filling up the street. Follow me with dancing feet.

In the hallway. In the doorway. Do it my way. Do it your way.

Take my hand. Let’s beat the band. I tell you, right now, life is grand.

My skirts go swish. I make a wish. You’re my mister. I’m your miss.

Sometime soon, give me a kiss.