An Angry Bird By Any Other Name

It was a day full of surprises.  A dear friend and colleague showed up bearing gifts at our door - groceries of all things - and a fun activity for this rainy day.  She couldn't have shown up at a better time, as three of our children invited friends over and it was raining cats and dogs.  We needed something interesting to do.

She brought with her a bevy of wool in a rainbow of colors.  She brought needles and sponges for us to use.  She brought examples of her work for us to see.  Then she started us on our family needle felting adventure.

It was a blast!  My wife and I, along with our children and their friends made felt animals, birds, flowers and butterflies.  I had a very interesting project of my own.  It started out as an "angry bird" flamingo (I have a thing about flamingos). 

It looked like this before I stuck on it's nose.

Then I turned it upside down and realized it wasn't an angry bird after all.  Rather, it was a cross between Pat Morita and Danny DeVito. 

And with that, my artwork was complete.

It is said that, when sculpting wood or stone, that the material communicates to the artist what shape it will take.  I guess this proves it.

Is There A Target On My Back?

I don't normally talk about my dreams.  I dream in vivid detail about people and places, hopes and desires, frustrations and losses. Many of these are recurring themes that are best kept to myself.

However, there is one that I've been having recently, that I cannot figure out.  Here's how it goes ....

First, let me explain that there isn't a lot of action here.  It's more of an atmosphere, really.

There is a miniature golf green running the length of my childhood backyard.  Behind the hole is the front door from the house (large wooden door with beveled glass).

Sometimes there are people gathered around, sometimes it's just me.

There aren't any other things that would denote the area as that particular backyard, yet I know it's our backyard.

Last night in the midst of this dream a target appeared behind me as I was ready to putt my golf ball.  A familiar person was there with a crossbow, shooting arrows at the target and saying, "Relax. I'm not gonna hit you." 

I don't know what it means.  And even though it's pretty tame, it's just plain weird, and it keeps coming back.  

Hmmmmm .......