Welcome to my messy and imperfect, yet amazingly beautiful, life. I’m finding grace in the everyday while living a full and creative life while coping with chronic illness. It’s possible!
Holidays
May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful, and don’t forget to make some art. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.
There’s just something about white roses at Christmas time…so lovely and pure and delicate, they are the perfect flower with which to welcome the Christ child.
Everybody is a story. When I was a child, people sat around kitchen tables and told their stories. We don’t do that much anymore. Sitting around the table telling stories is not just a way of passing time. It is the way the wisdom gets passed along. The stuff that helps us to live a …
One last summer pic before the switch over to fall, which currently is my favorite season. (Although if you ask me next April, yes, spring will be my favorite season…in June, I most likely in will say summer…and of course there is one season being left out which will remain nameless, although I love it in December as long as it brings us pretty, fluffy snow for Christmas.)
I am now offering my art for sale through Society6 online; so just follow the link to “my” online shop, at https://society6.com/barbaramarincel Through Society6, I can offer everything from art prints to canvases to travel mugs and stationery to shower curtains (yes, really, although I don’t have any photos the right file size yet!). On …
On Facebook today, I’ve seen a number of posts celebrating Independence Day with the quote “the Home of the Free because of the Brave…” So I thought I’d take this opportunity to honor my Grandpa Baach, a Doughboy in WWI; my Father-in-Law George M. Marincel, a bombardier and navigator in a B-17 Flying Fortress, who …
Another Memorial Day & […] still at war, decorating an ever-increasing number of graves. –Eleanor Roosevelt, Memorial Day 1944. When Eleanor Roosevelt wrote this, my dad was a 24 year-old farm boy from Minnesota living in Selsey, England, training for the great Allied invasion of France that would take place the next week on D-Day, …