I can't ever think of the right thing to say . . .

. . . but G. K. Chesterton sure does.

"O God of earth and altar, bow down and hear our cry,

Our earthly rulers falter, our people drift and die;

The walls of gold entomb us, the swords of scorn divide;

Take not Thy thunder from us, but take away our pride.

From all that terror teaches, from lies of tongue and pen,

From all the easy speeches that comfort cruel men;

From sale and profonation of honor and the sword;

From sleep and from damnation, deliver us, good Lord!

Tie in a living tether the prince and priest and thrall;

Bind all our lives together, smite us and save us all;

In ire and exultation, aflame with faith, and free,

Lift up a living nation, a single sword, to Thee."

"O God of Earth and Altar," 1906, by George Keith Chesterton

(set to "Kings Lynn" traditional English melody, arr. Ralph Vaughan Williams, 1906)

These words fill me both with fierce patriotism and with sorrow.

I wish, with thousands of other Americans, it could truly be this way.

And a thank-you to Chesterton:

though I don't really appreciate all your words against John Calvin,

I am quite sure you have since discovered what is true.

Colored pencils aren't my thing

So . . . As the above title suggests, colored pencils really aren't my favorite medium in the world. But I am rather fond of the chambered nautilus . . .

The learned gastropod . . .

A while ago I was suddenly struck by the realization that there weren't many rhymes for the word "gastropod." That sent me reeling headlong into a story that I've been dreaming of transforming into some sort of picture book ever since.

I told it completely in limerick form, the setting being a sort of "bug pub" called "The Golden Louse." The story involves a shy little cricket meeting a blustering, self-focused snail and their rather one-sided conversation. The purpose of the story is basically "don't monopolize the conversation or you won't have any friends." Which is perfectly true—and a trap into which (almost) everyone occasionally falls.

Below are the sections pertaining to the single illustration I actually like:


"You know, in fact, it’s very odd,"
Quoth the learned gastropod,
"That we never ever had one
come to call;
I remember there were times
While I dwelt in sunny climes
When there’d be whales
summer, spring, and fall!"

"And come to think of it," said he,
"There were so many at the sea–
How I miss it
when there’s summer in the air!
But I left to save my skin–
That salt breeze near did me in!–
And with my home aboard,
I’ve gone most everywhere."

And as he talked he gave a glance
Of such pomp and circumstance
It made the cricket weaken at each joint–
And to wonder what he’d wrought
By forgetting he’d been taught
That once a snail starts,
your presence has no point."

The picture was done with colored pencils, hence the rather weird smearing and/or white spots.

"A very good place to start."

I figured I may as well begin with something—or someONE—very close to my heart. I did this sketch over a year ago, and he really DOES look like that—distorted nose and all. Poor guy.

Yes—his name is Teddy. I do not claim responsibility for this, having been approximately one hour old at the time I received him as a gift. That being said, by the time of my second birthday party, I named my NEW animal "Panda," clinging proudly to the lack of creativity in names that was rapidly becoming a family tradition.

As an extra and, I personally think hilarious note: when I was more like six, I received another stuffed bear as a gift. This one happened to be completely white, and my mother encouraged me to, quite logically, think of something white after which to name him. I happened to be standing beside her closet when she said this to little six-year-old me clutching my new bear. Looking down, I took note of a certain pair of Keds sitting upright on her shoerack. The poor woman was expecting "Snowflake."

He's named "Shoebear" to this day.

But—THIS is Teddy. I had to have been an unpredictable child.

"All you ever speak is nonsense!" "Well, that's better than listening to it!"

Welcome to Mad Thinking Cap. I'm your average American citizen, with proverbial irons in practically every proverbial fire, with a profound love for things zany, wacky, and random. Although I'll probably be posting whatever pops into my head, I will try to stick to poetry (mostly of the kids' sort) and art--possibly illustrations for the poems, of which I have a few.

That being said, I think it's high time I DID something with what I DO. As in, in this modern day and age, post it on the Internet. It took me a while to get around to this idea, so now I'll give it a try.

Thanks for your patience.