Before he was Rubin the Mango Spirit. He was Rubin, a little one.
Jotting a story down sometimes with pictures first, sometimes with words first. It’s always a different process with each story revealing itself in a different form. Just jot it down, scribble it down, make stick figures, whatever it takes so you don’t let it run away with whatever moments you have. Stories are impatient and temperamental they want to keep moving.
Drawing comes easier to me than writing. Yet I love words because they challenge, teach, inspire and trigger. So to work around my own limitations with writing I have been combining drawing with words. Strengthening a weak muscle with a little help from something I already have confidence in due to years of practice.
Our list of limitations are long but maybe they can be embraced and re-shaped into a new way of doing something we fear. An unexpected new road to walk on.
Art is prayer. The voice of the spirit unveiling the heart. Sometimes prayer is graceful painted with gentle strokes of light. Other days the prayer comes out broken with a sorrow tinted voice; or no prayer comes to mind at all. Each color in the palette plays the murmur of a greater symphony waiting to be heard.