Izabella's Blue

weekly digital challenge #27 ~ Family

 
weekly challenge #27 from Digital Whisper  This weeks theme is "family" in honor of Thanksgiving~ 

I am extreeeeemely happy this holiday to be back with family, it's been 6 years,  we have a lovely event planned~ 

handmade recycled journal

New in my etsy shoppe this week http://izabellah.etsy.com

 
~♥~ Recycle, Reduce, Reuse, Buy Vintage ~♥~

This is a handmade recycled journal/notebook, to write your inspirations, daydreams, your favorite poems, sketches & notes in. The 50+ pages are filled with vintage papers, receipts, envelopes to tuck away your love notes in, vintage maps, old book pages, ledger papers, sheet music, blank old papers. An amazing array of treasured papers that I have found throughout the years of collecting ephemera~

I used antique Victorian Cabinet cards for the front and back covers~

Antique lace & ribbons adorn the metal spiral rings~

Size 6.5 X 4.5

~**~**~**~**~**~~**~**~**~**~**~~**~**~**~**~**~~**~**
a famous love letter from Lord Byron to Caroline

August 1812

My dearest Caroline,

If tears, which you saw & know I am not apt to shed, if the agitation in which I parted from you, agitation which you must have perceived through the whole of this most nervous nervous affair, did not commence till the moment of leaving you approached, if all that I have said & done, & am still but too ready to say & do, have not sufficiently proved what my real feelings are & must be ever towards you, my love, I have no other proof to offer.
God knows I wish you happy, & when I quit you, or rather when you from a sense of duty to your husband & mother quit me, you shall acknowledge the truth of what I again promise & vow, that no other in word or deed shall ever hold the place in my affection which is & shall be most sacred to you, till I am nothing.
I never knew till that moment, the madness of -- my dearest & most beloved friend -- I cannot express myself -- this is no time for words -- but I shall have a pride, a melancholy pleasure, in suffering what you yourself can hardly conceive -- for you don not know me. -- I am now about to go out with a heavy heart, because -- my appearing this Evening will stop any absurd story which the events of today might give rise to -- do you think now that I am cold & stern, & artful -- will even others think so, will your mother even -- that mother to whom we must indeed sacrifice much, more much more on my part, than she shall ever know or can imagine.
"Promises not to love you" ah Caroline it is past promising -- but shall attribute all concessions to the proper motive -- & never cease to feel all that you have already witnessed -- & more than can ever be known but to my own heart -- perhaps to yours -- May God protect forgive & bless you -- ever & even more than ever.
yr. most attached
BYRON

Digital Whisper challenge

one of my new favorite online places is Digital Whisper  Every week Kimmie has a digital challenge awaiting for us~  She gives us a background to work with & then you create with that as your foundation.

#26 Challenge ~Blue

 
#38 Challenge ~ Golden

the last sunbeam

 
The last sunbeam
Lightly falls from the finish'd Sabbath,
On the pavement here, and there beyond it is looking,
Down a new-made double grave.
Lo, the moon ascending,
Up from the east the silvery round moon,
Beautiful over the house-tops, ghastly, phantom moon,
Immense and silent moon.
I see a sad procession,
And I hear the sound of coming full-key'd bugles,
All the channels of the city streets they're flooding,
As with voices and with tears.
I hear the great drums pounding,
And the small drums steady whirring,
And every blow of the great convulsive drums,
Strikes me through and through.
For the son is brought with the father,
(In the foremost ranks of the fierce assault they fell,
Two veterans son and father dropt together,
And the double grave awaits them.)
Now nearer blow the bugles,
And the drums strike more convulsive,
And the daylight o'er the pavement quite has faded,
And the strong dead-march enwraps me.
In the eastern sky up-buoying,
The sorrowful vast phantom moves illumin'd,
('Tis some mother's large transparent face,
In heaven brighter growing.)
O strong dead-march you please me!
O moon immense with your silvery face you soothe me!
O my soldiers twain! O my veterans passing to burial!
What I have I also give you.
The moon gives you light,
And the bugles and the drums give you music,
And my heart, O my soldiers, my veterans,
My heart gives you love.

~walt whitman

just because

 

I have had this vintage image for a long while awaiting to be used & I think she looks happy here ....merrily mowing her fields
 

Good news for bad moods The Painters Keys

 
When I am feeling blue, I notice I am more intune with my work & feel more satisfied with the outcome of my art.   Do you relate to this article?! ;)

a letter from the Robert... The Painters Keys  

Dear Izabella,

You may have noticed the odd times when something is irking you, putting you into a bad mood, and you sit down at your easel and do good work. While it's not as pleasant as when you're in a good mood and everything is coming up peonies, it works to your benefit in another way. In my experience, a bad mood helps the attention span and the critical faculties--not necessarily to be more creative--but with a wider vision and a sharper focus.

Before you start to rub me out as a certified nutter, I have to tell you that Professor Joseph Forgas at the University of New South Wales in Australia has now produced research that shows people in a negative mood are more critical and more attentive than regular happy folks.

Sadness, he found, actually promotes information-processing strategies best suited to dealing with demanding situations. Other bad-mood benefits the professor found included less gullibility, improved assessment of others, and memory improvement.

In my case, as a kid I might have been "blessed with a sunny disposition," as my mom used to say, but it was in my quieter, reflective moods that I made my art. Darker moods came and went, and I remember doing the odd decent thing while in them. Fact is, I still do. I'm wildly curious to know if anyone else might have noticed something similar.

Perhaps the good-work-in-a-bad-mood syndrome has something to do with the simple realization that when all else fails one can still paint. It's as if art is a sanctuary and a safe haven from life's inevitable disappointments. All humans need some sort of escape from whatever irks them--drudgery, boredom, failure, penury, barking dogs, unpleasant companions--a mighty long list if you decide to think about it. Personal art-making, with its complex creative demands of audacity, application and focus, as well as its perceived nobility, fills the bill.

No human life is all joy, none is all pain. It may be necessary to have a bit of one to gain more of the other. Surely, all moods are worth exploring. While a good mood is way ahead of whatever comes next, this is where I tell you to joyfully jump into your bad moods, watch yourself, and see what happens.

Best regards,

Robert

PS: "Whereas positive moods seem to promote creativity, flexibility, cooperation, and reliance on mental shortcuts, negative moods trigger more attentive, careful thinking, paying greater attention to the external world." (Joseph Forgas)

Esoterica: Bad-mood guys like Beethoven are no shirkers when it comes to turning out the work. Whole schools of poetry, art and music have been founded on anger and misery. "Sunny dispositions" might be missing out on something. Bad moods are, on the other hand, bad moods. You don't want to stay in them too long--maybe just enough to be focused, attentive and a little extra critical. A bad mood could be good for you.

And ask ye why these sad tears stream

Te somnia nostra reducunt.’
  OVID.

And ask ye why these sad tears stream?
  Why these wan eyes are dim with weeping?
I had a dream–a lovely dream,
  Of her that in the grave is sleeping.

I saw her as ’twas yesterday,
  The bloom upon her cheek still glowing;
And round her play’d a golden ray,
  And on her brows were gay flowers blowing.

With angel-hand she swept a lyre,
  A garland red with roses bound it;
Its strings were wreath’d with lambent fire
  And amaranth was woven round it.

I saw her mid the realms of light,
  In everlasting radiance gleaming;
Co-equal with the seraphs bright,
  Mid thousand thousand angels beaming.

I strove to reach her, when, behold,
  Those fairy forms of bliss Elysian,
And all that rich scene wrapt in gold,
  Faded in air–a lovely vision!

And I awoke, but oh! to me
  That waking hour was doubly weary;
And yet I could not envy thee,
  Although so blest, and I so dreary.

~Lord Alfred Tennyson
 

free autumn collage sheet from moonlightjourney

I wanted to share this lovely gift from Becky & Lynne of Moonlight Journey . They put together this free offering, to get us in the creating spirit of the holidays !!   Be sure to check out their lovely website http://www.moonlightjourney.com/ for an array of fab collage sheets

Collage sheet by Becky Loyall

Please click on sheet and you will be taken to a 300 dpi page just right click and save to your computer. This collage sheet is for personal use only. You may sell the artwork you create but please do not sell the original pieces in the middle in a collage sheet or as a single.

The Falling of Leaves

Autumn is over the long leaves that love us,
And over the mice in the barley sheaves;
Yellow the leaves of the rowan above us,
And yellow the wet wild-strawberry leaves.

The hour of the waning of love has beset us,
And weary and worn are our sad souls now;
Let us patt, ere the season of passion forget us,
With a kiss and a tear on thy drooping brow.

william butler yeats