Scott's Artsy Update
May 11, 2018
You can take a deep breath and relax because your little artsy newsletter has arrived just in time to rocket you off to a great weekend. It's fabulous you let me take up a little mind space in your busy week. We all have so many obligations. I'm grateful you let me in.
Scott's WeekThis last week has been crazy and a bit hectic. It's not been a barrel of laughs, but things are coming together well.
It can't be sunshine and lollipops all the time but I got a lot done. Getting so much stuff done this week has given me a pleasing sense of accomplishment. I was encouraged when I got a photo of dad participating in activities in his new digs. He's getting settled in and off to master the art of Bingo. 
Everything is arranged and I'm confident Dad and Peggy are in good hands.
And, what a bonus, I've been able to get this Little Artsy Newsletter out. We've had very pleasant weather here, but this oven we call Phoenix is just starting to heat up for the summer. The dial is not quite set on broil yet. I think it's time to move on though, before the real scorching weather gets here. It's just a matter of getting all my ducks in a row before moseying off to the land of the Buckeyes. It'll be a new time zone for Scott on Saturday. I think I'm ready to head off. I hope I am. With fair winds and following seas, the next little update will come from Dayton, Ohio. 
If you're in Dayton, I hope to see you there!
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Artist of the WeekNatasha Mistry is a creator of abstract art. Born in the UK, her artwork has taken her around the world. She even spent some time teaching art and creativity to children in South Korea.
Everything she does is influenced by the creative nature of the universe.
Natasha says, "I'm interested in the unconscious mind; the entire universe, from the micro to the macrocosm. There are incredible patterns in nature, meditation, and consciousness. People see all sorts of things in my work. I enjoy that." I love the colors she uses and the very pleasing repetitive patterns she creates. I get drawn into them. 
You can find her paintings in both corporate and private collections. She also has an impressive list of celebrity collectors.
I get the impression that painting is like breathing to Natasha. She just has to do it. And I, for one, am happy for that. What I've shown here doesn't even scrape the tip of the iceberg. You need to check her other work out as well. Here are some places you can find Natasha Mistry on the internet. Website Facebook Instagram Twitter Saatchi Art Threadless |
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It's Okay To Say No
Just like any other American family, when I was a kid, we'd go to amusement parks.
On some random weekend or other, we'd pack the car up and head out for a day of magical fun and adventure.
Though mom was keen, I think dad would have rather been mowing the lawn, vacuuming the carpet, doing dishes, or sticking needles in his eyes.
I can see them now, waving excitedly, as I stepped on the roller coaster, the tilt-o-whirl, the spinning teacups or any other medieval torture device. Were they out to kill me?!?! I don't think so, but I'm sure it crossed their minds a few times when I was a teenager.
Just think of it - death by teacup.
Amusement park rides and I have never played well together. I dread long lines. I hate carnival food and, of course, who can properly describe the overwhelming joy of expelling, at velocity, carnival food you didn't even like traveling in the other direction.
I'm sure heredity has nothing to do with it either. I think my brother loved all that stuff. Dad was in the Canadian Navy and spent five years at sea. Mom could probably sleep upside down on a train moving at the speed of light. She could sleep anywhere.
Me, I got the seasick gene.
Going to fairs and festivals isn't horrible. I like going for the music, the spectacle, the camaraderie. I can even enjoy them as long as I'm not asked to get on some spinning whirling rickety nausea-inducing death trap.
I used to go to fairs and such because I wanted to be with my friends. My so-called friends, however, always intended to get me on some spinny thing. They'd goad me or somehow coerce me into getting on a ride.
Sometimes I'd give in. Maybe, it was the excitement. Maybe, I wanted the same experience my friends had. Maybe, I didn't want to be left out. I don't know why. It could have been a combination of all those things.
When I did get on the ride, I'd remember why I didn't like them. First, there would be that flush feeling. Then, the color would drain from my face. That pallor would soon be replaced, in due course, by a lovely shade of green.
I learned much later in life that it's okay to say yes, but it's okay to say no too. It takes some of us a bit longer than others to catch on.
Now, I don't go on those kinds of rides anymore. I can admire them from afar but I don't go on them.
While at San Diego State, millennia ago, I knew a guy who followed this principle to the letter. If you asked him if he wanted to do something his answer was either yes or no. There was no equivocation. If you thought there might be some explanation coming, you'd be wrong. I admired him for that.
It took me a lot longer to put that lesson into practice.
You can say no politely. You can offer an explanation if you'd like but you don't have to.
No is often the best answer.
This week's painting was done a while ago. It hangs in our house and I see it every day. It's a bit creepy but I like it very much. I hope you do too.
Until the next bridge comes,
I wish you peace.
On some random weekend or other, we'd pack the car up and head out for a day of magical fun and adventure.
Though mom was keen, I think dad would have rather been mowing the lawn, vacuuming the carpet, doing dishes, or sticking needles in his eyes.
I can see them now, waving excitedly, as I stepped on the roller coaster, the tilt-o-whirl, the spinning teacups or any other medieval torture device. Were they out to kill me?!?! I don't think so, but I'm sure it crossed their minds a few times when I was a teenager.
Just think of it - death by teacup.
Amusement park rides and I have never played well together. I dread long lines. I hate carnival food and, of course, who can properly describe the overwhelming joy of expelling, at velocity, carnival food you didn't even like traveling in the other direction.
I'm sure heredity has nothing to do with it either. I think my brother loved all that stuff. Dad was in the Canadian Navy and spent five years at sea. Mom could probably sleep upside down on a train moving at the speed of light. She could sleep anywhere.
Me, I got the seasick gene.
Going to fairs and festivals isn't horrible. I like going for the music, the spectacle, the camaraderie. I can even enjoy them as long as I'm not asked to get on some spinning whirling rickety nausea-inducing death trap.
I used to go to fairs and such because I wanted to be with my friends. My so-called friends, however, always intended to get me on some spinny thing. They'd goad me or somehow coerce me into getting on a ride.
Sometimes I'd give in. Maybe, it was the excitement. Maybe, I wanted the same experience my friends had. Maybe, I didn't want to be left out. I don't know why. It could have been a combination of all those things.
When I did get on the ride, I'd remember why I didn't like them. First, there would be that flush feeling. Then, the color would drain from my face. That pallor would soon be replaced, in due course, by a lovely shade of green.
I learned much later in life that it's okay to say yes, but it's okay to say no too. It takes some of us a bit longer than others to catch on.
Now, I don't go on those kinds of rides anymore. I can admire them from afar but I don't go on them.
While at San Diego State, millennia ago, I knew a guy who followed this principle to the letter. If you asked him if he wanted to do something his answer was either yes or no. There was no equivocation. If you thought there might be some explanation coming, you'd be wrong. I admired him for that.
It took me a lot longer to put that lesson into practice.
You can say no politely. You can offer an explanation if you'd like but you don't have to.
No is often the best answer.
- No can free up your time to do the things you love.
- No can keep you out of trouble.
- No can make you a happier person.
This week's painting was done a while ago. It hangs in our house and I see it every day. It's a bit creepy but I like it very much. I hope you do too.
Until the next bridge comes,
I wish you peace.