Ok, so this is me.

I thought I should start a blog because sometimes I do tend to go off on a tangent, hence the name of my blog.

Here I will go into detail about my artistic experiments - whether they work or not, get feedback from others interested in the same things, and also thoughts that tend to meander through my head, from things I observe, see on Facebook, or hear. This is not a comment on such things so much as my thoughts and memories, often brought up by what is around me.

Like a few days ago I saw on Facebook a picture about children in the outdoors, or lack thereof. it reminded me of being a child, white frosty morning, holes in my shoes, pants etc, and getting a sheet of tin, running to the hill next to our house (well caravan attached to shearing quarters, on a farm actually), and running to the top with all the dogs, and sliding down. Dogs all running along beside me.  Then hauling the tin back up again, over and over and loving every minute.   No worries about soaking wet shoes and clothes. No worries about cutting myself on the tin. Tumbles were exciting and my playmates had four feet not two. And I was so happy, and never thought about how cold I was.

But I was not encouraged to make messes in the house, my creative attempts were laughed at and put down.  And drawing and scribbles were not considered to be a career choice, or a life style choice.

I hid my writing, stopped creating what was not acceptable, and grew up.

I have two children and I let them dig in the back yard, draw with chalk all over the paths and walls, took them out to jump in puddles, climb trees, and run in the house and outside with no shoes.

I hugged them often, held them when they cried, and laughed when they were filthy dirty from being creative outside. My son is 20 and hugs and kisses me each day, and my daughter is 18 in September, and she still comes to me to be held when it just gets too much. Each day we tell each other and show each other how much we love each other.

We always had messes in the house even in summer.  the place was full of empty boxes waiting to be constructed. Paper laying everywhere with drawings on them and I always found money for new pencils, string, tape, chalk, etc.   They were never bored because they were too busy creating.

And now I have two children who are talented and artistic. My son with computers and graphics, my daughter with drawing and graphics.

Now it is my time to reclaim that which was hidden for so many years. It will be a long hard road as I learn to be that creative child of so many years ago. As I learn not to be ashamed of the mistakes I make, the writings that need to be rewritten, and that there is no such thing as a mistake, only the way not to do it next time.