Following the Links – Finding Gotye

I am frequently amazed at how many talented writers, artists, photographers, etc. are out there blogging, and am equally amazed at how by following a link or two, we find wonderful and unexpected gems.

I was looking at a Fresh Pressed site, photographs taken by Loren Cooper during a blanketing of snow in London and was drawn to one commenter. I visited Inidna’s blog where she had posted videos and information about an Australian musician, Gotye.  I’ve never heard of him, but am easily getting lost in his music, and am already considering buying his album. What drew me in immediately is this deeply touching animated video wed to one of Gotye’s songs, Bronte, from his album Making Mirrors. What a brilliant combination of music and story.

Always A Bright Spot

They say every cloud has a silver lining, that even in our darkest moments there is always a bright spot. Having recently lost an animal so very dear to my heart, I wasn’t seeing too many bright spots just yet. Some unanticipated glimmers here and there, but that was about it.

Who would have thought that my bright spot would truly BE a bright spot? I happened to glance out my side door earlier this morning, and there he was … a veritable bright spot of red among the drab winter bushes. I grabbed my camera and, figuring the male Cardinal would fly away if I opened the door, took him through my window, but with a screen, I knew I was kidding myself. Ever so slowly, I opened the inner door and then the storm door, and eased out on the porch. There he stayed while I photographed him. Again and again.

I felt as if he knew I needed a bright spot in my day and had decided to indulge me until I got the shot I wanted. I believe animals communicate with us and are far more in tune than we give them credit for, and today, he had a small, joyful message to bring. Above you see him, not nearly as vibrant as he looked in reality, but brilliant nonetheless. A small blessing, a reminder, of how many bright spots we have in our lives. Even if we don’t always see them.

The Most Beautiful Girl in the World

Mewsette

Rescued from Weequahic Park, Newark, NJ, November 1999
@ approximately 9 months old
Left this Earth January 4, 2012

She may have been small in stature, but her gentle soul spanned galaxies

A DWAA Finalist!

How excited was I to learn that I am a finalist in the Dog Writers Association of America’s (DWAA) national contest for dog illustration! My French Bulldog art has been appearing in Just Frenchies  magazine, a quarterly publication for the breed, for quite a few years now, and they recently notified me that I was a finalist. The publisher and editor-in-chief had submitted my French Bulldog artwork to DWAA, unbeknownst to me, and lo and behold … I made the cut.

I’m particularly honored to be among other finalists who are artists contributing to Dog Fancy and the AKC Gazette. That’s some mighty fine company. The winner will be announced at Westminster this coming February 2012, but I understand all the winners are announced prior to the show at the DWAA annual dinner.

This is the kind of thing where I would be beyond ecstatic if I won, but am just so grateful to have been submitted by my publisher AND to have been named a DWAA finalist among many accomplished professionals.

The burning question may be exactly which piece was submitted? And the answer is, I’m not sure yet. But it might be this one.

Note: All illustrations, drawings and photographs are © Jeanne Balsam and may not be reproduced in any format without written permission. Thank you!

No Coincidences – the Komodo Dragon Comes Home

Here you see something I’ve wanted for quite some time … a handsomely carved Komodo dragon. I spotted him probably two years ago in one of my favorite stores, Two Buttons in Frenchtown. At the time, they had one that was probably 5′ long. I really wanted that one, but didn’t dare look at the price tag. Each time I’ve been in the store, I’ve been powerfully drawn to one of these Komodo dragons.  They are hand-carved by an artist in Bali, (I believe), and each is unique. I would hold one, or several in turn, in my hands, feeling a connection I cannot explain.

On the occasion of my birthday this past summer, I was given a check. I was asked to please spend it on something that I really wanted, something special. My immediate thought was of the dragon. And yet I have dallied, contemplating all the things I really need and should do with that money. Do you ever find yourself doing this? You are invited to do something or buy something that is unequivocally a treat for yourself, but instead you spend it on something practical, or wrangle endlessly with yourself over it? Like I have. You know, we really need to be good to ourselves, kind to ourselves, to believe that we are deserving of all that is good.

So about a week ago, doing some Christmas shopping in Two Buttons with a friend, I picked up a Komodo dragon, as I had so many times before. He had a different attitude in his posture than I had previously seen. He seemed reflective. And as I held him, once again considering my still unspent birthday money, one of my very favorite Christmas songs played through the store, John Lennon’s So This Is Christmas. And I knew that that Komodo dragon was meant to be mine.

There are no coincidences.

And then this Saturday I met a longtime friend for breakfast. We hadn’t seen each other in a while, and she returned a book to me that I honestly had forgotten I’d lent her — Gratitude, A Way of Life by Louise Hay and other luminaries. It’s easy to forget sometimes how much we truly have to be grateful for, and I felt that this book returning to me after such a long time was also no coincidence. Perhaps I really needed to re-examine how much I have to be thankful for in my life. So I’ve decided to read one of the author’s essays on gratitude each day. We can never go wrong being thankful and making it a daily practice.

Most likely you have your own Komodo dragons appearing in your life. They are opportunities to be kind to yourself, to be thankful, to even find moments of peace. Take them.

Let there be peace on earth. And let it begin with me.       – Jill Jackson Miller