Lucky Ninth

Click here to buy this painting.
Acrylic on heavyweight fine art paper, 2.5 x 3.5 in.
Watermark not present on original artwork, $42.

Do not quit.
Aim higher.
Be hopeful.
Write more.
Give first.
Play music.
Read aloud.
Beautiful.
Lucky nine.

What’s with all these words? Take your time and read it again, paying attention to its structure.

You got it! These are nine positive phrases with exactly nine letters. Nine mantras to live by today.

Can you come up with yours? Who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky too.

Four To Go

Click here to buy this painting.
Acrylic on heavyweight fine art paper, 2.5 x 3.5 in.
Watermark not present on original artwork, $42.

Eighth day.  

I am getting there.  No rush, I'll take my time and savor every sensation in this journey.  The palette is wet, brushes are soaked, my hands are flowing.  I am creating, giving glory to the One who has given me this gift.

Even the flower is rejoicing, petals opened up, praising.  

Four to go.  Four more reasons to be joyful.

Her Easter Bunny

Hello. Welcome and come on in.  

Get comfy as you join me in celebrating The Ultimate Blog Party this week (hosted by 5minutesformom).  Grab your tea or coffee and feel free to tour around my daily morning posts and paintings.

Today's post is a tribute to all moms.

Click here to buy a print of this painting.
Watercolor on cold press 140lb. Montval watercolor paper, 6x10 in.
Watermark not present on actual print, $19.

While sitting on her old Victorian lounge chair, I couldn't help but keep looking at her easter bunny. It was prominently displayed in the corner of her well-kept living room.

There, at barely two feet, it stood tall with it's yellow, lime green and pink dress. Yes, a bunny with a dress. It wasn't 'just a dress', mind you. Faux pearls adorned the silk skirt, the collar and sleeves were finished with shimmering organza. Lovely.

Looking around, I noticed she has almost finished putting out her easter decorations. She is not an artist but I always find her choice of pieces quaint and unique. The overall design is pulled together. But I can tell what matters to her the most. On top of the center table, besides the bouquet of spring flowers, sat a mahogany covered photo album. It is carved with the word 'Grandkids'.

I meant to ask her the story behind the easter bunny. I hushed myself and decided to wait. I didn't want to spoil one of the most beautiful memories unfolding before my eyes. A moment in time I wish I can freeze.

There, besides her easter bunny, she sat. Holding my son in her arms and cuddling him so tenderly. The room was filled, not just with easter eggs and bunnies. But with overflowing love.

Mine to her. Hers to mine. Ours to him.

Seventh

Click here to buy this painting.
Acrylic on heavyweight fine art paper, 2.5 x 3.5 in.
Watermark not present on original artwork, $42.

I like rhymes. I wrote poems just on the premise of rhymes. So typically, I thought of 'heaven' when I wrote 'seven'.

Seventh heaven. The epitome of bliss. It's a tall order to define such a phrase. Heaven itself is indescribable, try expounding it seventh folds. I can muster all my wit in writing but I'll fail to give it justice with my definitions. I lose my eloquence when I'm prodded with all things omnipotent.

The least I can do is trying. Life is like that too. A try-out. A practice season for the real game up^ there, where the final reward awaits. An attempt to be worthy.

Perhaps 'seventh heaven' came to be as a result of experiencing one miracle after the other. Maybe the first one who thought of it has been through seven life-changing spectacles beyond explanation. I wonder how he must have felt like to say 'Ah, this is my seventh heaven.' Was there a near-death experience that made him pronounced it?

I can't tell you what it is or how it feels. One thing I know, we can always try to achieve it by counting our blessings and helping others. Turn someone's ordinary day to a 'miracle' through kind deeds.

Let's do that. Imagine, seven people doing seven little acts of kindness today. Seven miracles multiplied by seven. I'm sure the results will be more than seventh folds. Somewhere along the way, one will say 'I'm in seventh heaven.'

Are you in?

Six

Click on photo to buy this painting.

Acrylic on heavyweight fine art paper, 2.5 x 3.5 in.

Watermark not present on original artwork, $42.

Six, 6, sixth. Read it aloud again. What comes to mind? The abominable phrase of all things evil.

I pity the number. Is it it's fault to be what it is, to represent the 'otherwise' of good? Or was it a scarlet given by a lonesome, hopeless fellow long time ago. If it only has it's own voice, will it protest the label we put on it? Will it say, 'Give me a chance'.

Chance. Today, I'm doing that. It's time to give 'it' the chance. This isn't just a word play on positive adjectives. This is 'it'. It wasn't at all difficult to ponder on the beautiful sides.

The number '6' is a symbol of fertility, of that amazing gift to produce life. I looked like that when I was pregnant. Tall, skinny with a big 'bloop' (as my husband fondly called my belly) in the middle. I find women sexiest when they're pregnant. I admire those who wish to be one and constantly pray for those who has not been blessed.

I miss those times when I can't bend or see my toes anymore. My husband has this funny picture of me attempting to cut my toenails during my last trimester. I mustered all my yoga moves that time but to no avail. The beauty of being in the 'sixth' figure - you get to be pampered with so much love. And have someone else cut your toenails.

Six. If you're in that 'sixth' stage in life where everything seems to fall out of place, disillusioned, alone, feeling ugly and labeled inconspicuously, give yourself a 'chance'.

Look in the mirror and focus on every curve in your body, mind and soul that is beautiful. Be thankful for who you are. You are an amazing creation. Believe it, live it.

Take Five

Click on photo to buy this painting.
Acrylic on heavyweight fine art paper, 2.5 x 3.5 in.
Watermark not present on original artwork, $42.

The grandeur of five's.

Fifth day.

Five paintings.

Five months with my little man.

Five toes and fingers on both sides.

Fifth sibling I lost.

I'll take all five on any given day. Go ahead, celebrate your own five's.

The Fourth

Click on photo to buy this painting.
Acrylic on heavyweight fine art paper, 2.5 x 3.5 in.
Watermark not present on original artwork, $42.

Life turns like a wheel, my mom would often say. Sometimes you're on top, other times you're down. Either ways, she say, you win. You learn humility when you're at the bottom and cheer more when you're up. What's important is to enjoy the 'distances in between'.

While painting this piece, I contemplated on those times in my life when I ended up fourth. This is the fourth painting anyways, so let me talk about being 'fourth'.

I was an achiever early on. My parents mentored me well when I was going to school. My first taste of victory as a child was when I graduated first honor in pre-school. That was the start. It will be followed by handfuls of academic achievements over the years until I finished college as a cum laude.

Not always the first. Some years I'll end up third, fourth or just in the middle. I stumbled countless times in my attempts to be the best. I learned to get up and move on. That's the beauty of being in the 'fourth'. You're still not there, but you know you're close.

Knowing there's a chance you'll even fail teaches you to remain humble. But there's still a reason to celebrate. If you turn your back, you'll realize you progressed from being the fifth, sixth, and so on. You're still a winner.

Fourth - that beautiful 'distance in between'. Just like this piece, my pledge won't be complete without it.

Mom was right all along.