If you just think I forgot how to spell, which is highly unlikely considering my highly-functioning OCD or a comfortable reliance on spell-check, then start here. There isn't much on how-to-do "Tagh," considering it's an "official" Zentangle tangle. In fact, while trying to find out what a Tagh is, I mostly found WHERE Tagh is. here or here.
Cool stuff that was good for many minutes lost in the weird wide spidey web, but failing to help my goal-oriented brain from drawing seed-like pods of "Tagh" for last week's String Thing.
Sigh.
I sat down to draw. And draw. And draw some more.
And toss out a bunch of drawings.
Eventually I settled on a couple worthy of the light of day. And submitted one to the keeper of the IAST before the official deadline passed.
I also practiced "Chillon," which I never use as it seems unfinished or something. But here, it looks like quilting and I like that.
This week's IAST:
I have blown through a few Diva "globes" while waiting in waiting rooms for appointments. The charge this week was to create grids in the round and I've been meaning to do something a little Op-Art, so now is the time! In Zentanglish the pattern is called Knightsbridge, perhaps in reference to marble castle floors? The only things missing are the heraldic banners on the wall.
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| Go Fish! |
My physician asked about the sketching journal I carry with me everywhere and I was able to share with her the joy of Zentangle and other artful pursuits that allow me to be focused, and as a result feel less pain, for a time. I like non-medical (and non-medicinal) interventions and that I have something to show for the time spent. She saw the value in it and wants to share the concept with her patients, one in particular suffering from immobilizing depression.
Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, I wrote a thesis paper on behavioral management of depression. You know the NIKE ads? "Just do it." Well, my thesis was essentially: "Just do SOMETHING." In that regard, artistic endeavors are at their very least mindful distractions and can become conduits to therapy and recovery.
My daughter is finding that making potholders is just the right amount of distraction to work on a broken heart. It pains me to see her so disconnected, but there are glimpses of happiness when she shows me her new work.
And one of our own is having challenges. She wants to take control of her circumstances and infuse her life, particularly an upcoming birthday, with more artful joy. She put the call out to obtain some supplies to make that happen and she was able to happily inform me that a patron has graciously stepped forward in answer. That doesn't mean there couldn't be more happy in her Happy Birthday. Pop on over and say so.
Tag you're it!
