It’s not easy being green…. the color of so many ordinary things…
Especially as you grow older.
Because green is the color of growth and youth and life. But those things seem beyond the grasp of your outstretched fingers on your spotty and wrinkled old hand.
I am definitely no longer green like Littlebit, the Oceanian ship’s boy from the seas of Talislanta and the pirate ship, Black Dragon.
And, yes, an Iowa boy living as far away from an ocean as you can get in the United States, in all directions, you are bound to dream of pirate ships and the high seas, especially when you’re twelve and your favorite book is Treasure Island.
But now that you are old, green is more often your color because you don’t feel well… again… every day….
But there is still bright green in dreams.
You can still go there and be a child again in memories and your imagination.
It’s just that now the green is written down in sentences, paragraphs, chapters, and cantos.
And talking to your kids about movies, art and artists, stories and writers of stories…
Did you know the favorite color of all three of my children is green?
I have known it since they were small and I could sing to them songs by Kermit the Frog, like “Rainbow Connections” and “It’s Not Easy Being Green.”
And with paint, you make green by combining the blue of sadness with the yellow of sunshine and happiness.
And it’s not easy being green…
But it’s beautiful…
And it’s what I want to be.































































Into the Spring
The weather, amazingly, is more than fifty degrees Fahrenheit better than it was a week ago today in Texas.
The sun is now out.
“Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s day...?”
‘Of course not. It is not Sonnet 18 out there.
It… “art NOT more lovely and more temperate.”
And William Shakespeare is just a pen name.
But I saw a pair of Robins in the park while walking the dog.
And I don’t mean Robin Williams and Robin Hood.
I mean the red-breasted birds that herald the arrival of Spring.
Though it is not Spring. And I have trouble sitting here and writing this due to painful hemorrhoids.
Still, it seems like something new is starting.
It has now been an entire year since the start of the pandemic. 501,000+ people have died.
It is definitely time for something new, something better, to begin.
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Filed under artwork, autobiography, birds, commentary, healing, humor, Paffooney