My Inner Critic is a Pain in the Neck

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She gets my attention by pinching my neck.
“See, you are hurting yourself, and for what, no one cares. Why draw and paint faces or dogs and cats with funny ears and imperfect eyes? Why write these words and post to a blog that no one sees? Why do you do it? ”
I look at my funny cat drawing, and I tell her.
“Because it makes me happy.”

Copyright 2018 Susan Stone

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Finding Joy

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“Find your joy,”
I scream.
But you don’t hear me.

 

copyright 2018 susan stone

Starting Again

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I look to the shelf at my sketchbooks of face drawings and pen and ink drawings of rescue dogs and cats. Simple, imperfect sketches that are perfect in many ways. Because in January, I started drawing, and starting is everything. If you don’t start, you don’t get better. And if you don’t start because you think you can’t draw, well, you can’t because you never started. So I am patting myself on the back for starting, and I’m patting myself on the back for continuing daily drawing for the months that I kept going. And today, I’m kicking my butt to start again because I know that my imperfect drawings will get better–one drawing at a time.

Copyright Susan Stone 2018

​Saved From Nothing To Say

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A message on my watch,
saved from nothing to say.
So we will eat eggs and toast,
and enjoy another cup of joe.
I’ll read this another day and
think why
these words when really,  I
had nothing to say.

Susan Stone copyright 2018

Haircut and a new EPA

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cute fun fringes
frame my face
as clippings fall to
tickle my neck

but he trims with a machete,
blindfolded,
as dolphins die and
animals scurry from

burning trees
with no place to go.

fringed locks wilt in 100 degrees
and damp clumps stick
to my face

floating fine particulates

drop from the haze to

burn my throat and fill my lungs.

 

copyright Susan Stone 2018