Different Pencil Art

An artist by the name of Dalton Ghetti uses graphite sculpture as his way of sharing his talents with the world. To sculpture on the head of a pencil has to be nerve wracking and the patience of Job at his finger tips as his sculpture can disappear in the blink of an eye it is so delicate. He started out by carving his friends name on a pencil to give them as a gift, then one creative idea after another followed. Currently he is working on an epic piece. He is carving the name of each of the three thousand people who died in the attack of the World Trade Center and it will take him ten years. Wouldn't it be something if the newspapers around the world would show this work as he finishes each pencil top. It would be a more fitting remembrance than the current cry of building a mosque at the 9/11 sight.

Along with the pictures and story of the graphite artist, I had a wonderful little movie story about Hummingbirds and their habits which was an inspiration to watch. I wish I could have culled some of the pictures to put on the blog but that can't be done. The camera crew went out and patiently followed hummingbirds and these amazing little birds seem to do a back stroke as they flit about, wings beating a hundred miles per hour and feed on the bell like flowers. Their colors are much like the peacock feathers, iridescent with the mixture of purples, blues and one actually had a dime like spot at its throat, a brilliant red. I have a tiny hummingbird visit my cactus plant that is in bloom with small orange colored bells. It is in a window box in front of my bedroom window where my computer is housed in a small El. I watch this tiny creature and am amazed as it looks like it is not even moving as the wings beat faster than the eye can see. I hope you are up to another Jean story poem . . .

A Hummingbird

I went to tend my garden/dressed in Navy blue and red/ attracted a humming bird/who stayed right by my head.

His iridescence beauty/was there for me to see/wings beating fast/as he stared right back at me.

I stood quietly/and whispered/a loving word or two/and hoped he would come closer/but that he'd never do.

It took him just a second/to realize his great mistake/ the red that he was looking at/ had no nectar in its wake.

He flew into the garden/where the red flowers are in bloom/and tasted all the nectar/until it made him swoon.

A breeze shook the little flower/and the Hummingbird took wing/leaving me to wonder/ if a Hummingbird sings.

So today, can it be Friday already . . . where did this week go? . . . a weekend coming up and I hope you find hummingbird to amaze you and make you smile. Hugs to all.