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If the next turnpike ends, it will have started.&lt;br /&gt;
If the first turnpike curved back upon itself, I don't know that.&lt;br /&gt;
If the last turnpike stops before it reached a national border, that would be interesting.&lt;br /&gt;
And I can live with or without knowing it, but it would be nice to know.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The rain let me feel wet without feeling wet. If the rain is wet and if the rain is cold and if the rain keeps on, I will stay inside. When I feel inside out, solitude is welcome. On the top of a fire heat is high, relatively. Temperature is relatively high inside a fire also; but I don't know from an experiment but I think I tested it in a previous life. But I didn't doubt it (that) even then.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The past never repeats anymore. For me at least. But there are cycles ever more full. More enjoyed. For each of us. Ever new cycles ever higher and bigger. All creation sings. Silently or audibly. I love to be part of it. We make music to our Lord. I don't dote on stress, but I make music to our Lord, instead. Lord, we sing, not praise of You, but praise of That, which we have in common. I hope you enjoy it as much as we enjoy creating it, because if so, it will last forever. I enjoy that even more than the creating, because it's then re-creating.&lt;br /&gt;
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The need or wish to create is never followed by weakness. Never is there inability to do what one has created in the heart. It is fun and energizing to produce that which one has "envisioned". Innocence pervades the process. Love guides. Whenever I try to make a thing, I desire and let go.&lt;/div&gt;
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If I could know what it would look like from the beginning, that would be quite remarkable. But at the point of embarkation, I can see the whole as a point. I don't know if it will look good but faith is necessary to go on. Faith is necessary to stop too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A picture of reality is an exercise in knowledge and faith. Using what one knows to start, and then one goes by faith.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The top of Eden is a tree top.&lt;br /&gt;
The top of Eden was a tree root dendrile.&lt;br /&gt;
That never stopped growing.&lt;br /&gt;
That will never be finished.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That never began I feel,&lt;br /&gt;
Because it always was.&lt;br /&gt;
Since it never started,&lt;br /&gt;
It will never end.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But it always starts now.&lt;br /&gt;
But it is always starting&lt;br /&gt;
And stopping.&lt;br /&gt;
Rest and activity.&lt;br /&gt;
Start, stop.&lt;br /&gt;
Stop.&lt;br /&gt;
Start.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bUwUIAUtW_hdUuBAhwBK_fJgEsk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bUwUIAUtW_hdUuBAhwBK_fJgEsk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PhilosophyOfAnArtistAndCraftsman/~4/vVBjVgJRfJU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://timtolzmann.blogspot.com/feeds/6888615477949549016/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2127746432727680004&amp;postID=6888615477949549016" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127746432727680004/posts/default/6888615477949549016?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127746432727680004/posts/default/6888615477949549016?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PhilosophyOfAnArtistAndCraftsman/~3/vVBjVgJRfJU/if-i-could-know-what-it-would-look-like.html" title="" /><author><name>Timothy Tolzmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11109934502192856069</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="18" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NflpE_EouGg/TwB65NzhfdI/AAAAAAAAAMs/gLcr3JLbGv8/s220/101_0114.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fjFbPAz4vN8/TnUVVa1KBII/AAAAAAAAAMM/XHBLcTYvxDg/s72-c/101_0147.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://timtolzmann.blogspot.com/2011/09/if-i-could-know-what-it-would-look-like.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0YCSHs4fyp7ImA9WhdVEkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2127746432727680004.post-929201567020548337</id><published>2011-09-17T14:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-17T14:32:49.537-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-17T14:32:49.537-07:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h9Ym58JphOo/TnUQloNdnNI/AAAAAAAAAME/8kVdmXSkKEc/s1600/101_0131.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="225" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h9Ym58JphOo/TnUQloNdnNI/AAAAAAAAAME/8kVdmXSkKEc/s400/101_0131.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
It seems to be an explosion from a point. The point is locatable but it is behind the scene. The parts as it were are moving or expanding in every direction. This is a snapshot.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jO-o3j5KCl8/TnUNRsRtnoI/AAAAAAAAAL8/ezO2sLo7ZyE/s1600/101_0135.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="225" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jO-o3j5KCl8/TnUNRsRtnoI/AAAAAAAAAL8/ezO2sLo7ZyE/s400/101_0135.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
It seems to be a moderate circus: so much blue that one falls asleep to the movement yet there really isn't any movement. Except in the brain that sees it. One provides the movement from within.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ktr0qoAjbq0/TnULONruNTI/AAAAAAAAAL0/MWHg_hKzZWU/s1600/101_0137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="180" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ktr0qoAjbq0/TnULONruNTI/AAAAAAAAAL0/MWHg_hKzZWU/s320/101_0137.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
I think the parts are complete in themselves but build the whole. The building of the whole is certainly more than the sum of the parts. Part and whole are like point and infinity. But each point is infinite too.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Reflections on my first post (of the entire blog).&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
When I create (write, paint, whistle, play classical guitar,
speak) desire does seem to be the guiding factor. Feeling&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;and desire. I guess I’ll read that by
Percival again.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Woc-fU1kUctRtXI3yyCQ-bstLc4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Woc-fU1kUctRtXI3yyCQ-bstLc4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PhilosophyOfAnArtistAndCraftsman/~4/-89X1JAnkhw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://timtolzmann.blogspot.com/feeds/7065537635820064825/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2127746432727680004&amp;postID=7065537635820064825" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127746432727680004/posts/default/7065537635820064825?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127746432727680004/posts/default/7065537635820064825?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PhilosophyOfAnArtistAndCraftsman/~3/-89X1JAnkhw/if-i-could-fly-to-spain-and-catch.html" title="" /><author><name>Timothy Tolzmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11109934502192856069</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="18" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NflpE_EouGg/TwB65NzhfdI/AAAAAAAAAMs/gLcr3JLbGv8/s220/101_0114.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://timtolzmann.blogspot.com/2011/08/if-i-could-fly-to-spain-and-catch.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08FRXk7fCp7ImA9WhdXFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2127746432727680004.post-116398407127988640</id><published>2011-08-28T14:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-28T14:10:14.704-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-28T14:10:14.704-07:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;What intellect&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;What design&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;Where it will go&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;I don’t know.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;The heart &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;Wants to fly to the moon.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;To glide past Uranus &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;And land on Neptune&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;And pitch a tent.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;I think it would&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;Be fun to go &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;A fishin’&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;In a stream &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;Of alphabet soup—&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;To catch a ship to &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;Spain or France&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;And eat spaghetti&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;On a barge&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;To Holland.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;I think I’ll&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;Enjoy all these&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;By means of imagination.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;But I already did while writing them.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Copyright © 2011 by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Timothy Raymond Tolzmann&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2127746432727680004-116398407127988640?l=timtolzmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Evanescence of Dawn.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It seems to last just long&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Enough for fun.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Sunset is never long enough.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Because it always goes&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Down fast.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Fast to far away.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
The light comes.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It lasts long.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Then goes.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
When the sun flies,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It never stops.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Or does it rest?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I wish I could&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Hold it and&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Call its name.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Why do I love Sun?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It is warm.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Too warm if I'm&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Not careful.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
But it's OK.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Why do I look&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
For light?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
To see if I can&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Find a bright&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Spot.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A spot that doesn't&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Fade too fast for &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Words that&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Never seem slow&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Enough to hear.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Or fast enough to&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Watch.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
The orb is moving at a&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Pace too fast for me to&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Keep up.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I try to follow&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
But cannot.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
The sea, it never catches&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Sunlight or the moon.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It just reflects and &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Absorbs.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
The sparkles on it &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Only go over&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
And over too much.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
All day I did this &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Or that.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
And tonight I do&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
This.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Because I can't sleep&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
After eating&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
And I was hungry.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
© 2004 Timothy Raymond Tolzmann&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2127746432727680004-3793870557012877778?l=timtolzmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L24rn2UlfCU/Tks1wwZv6EI/AAAAAAAAAJs/a2l7vUjJjVc/s1600/101_0114.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641662069954570306" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L24rn2UlfCU/Tks1wwZv6EI/AAAAAAAAAJs/a2l7vUjJjVc/s320/101_0114.JPG" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 180px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
There is infinite ease of application of my creative input when I don’t try to be anything specific. If I just do and think at the juncture where I’m doing just at the edge of thinking—I mean just after the thought is ripe, complete.  There is a gap, and then the action goes. The action springs, is released.  There &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;isn&lt;/span&gt;’t much to analyze in the meaning of divide, because the whole thought acts—becomes the typed word(s).  If I try to figure out what the thought will become before I have written (typed) it, that is analyzing and the process of writing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;doesn&lt;/span&gt;’t flow. If I let it go, let it live, as it were, it’s more fun and rewarding in every way.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
I want to enjoy and do well. I want to be happy and be healthy and have all I need. I will just go on.  &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
There is much to do and much to be. There is always something next. In its own time. If the next step is called for, then it’s mandatory, or at least it’s the easiest thing to do.  Is that true that the next step, when called for is determined? There is a best choice. It is there on the level of feeling.  It is to be expressed (typed, written). Transcendent and immanent.  &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
When we find the time to be creating we are lucky. Because it is its own reward that never stops giving.  It never stops creating because it is infinitely vital. The creator, creating, creation. They come from the same place and go back there. Transcendent and immanent.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
I’m enjoying this, now and in the future. All creating is directed toward the Self.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
The thought precedes the action, but it can be seen transforming itself into the concrete action.  This before … I was going to write, “before the action is started” but it may be that the action must be started in the mind before the perception of the transformation of the thought into action can proceed.  It would seem that this starting of the action in the mind is really starting the action within the body—inside the body subtle, perhaps. The need to act is not necessarily unwelcome; one can act gracefully if one knows how. Meditate and act. Meditation means thought. Transcend means to go beyond. Transcendental Meditation is a way to go beyond thought. To strengthen action, strengthen thought. To strengthen thought, strengthen Being (or Consciousness). To strengthen Consciousness, rest deeply without losing awareness. Gain the state of “restful alertness”.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
To produce, increase creative intelligence. Then act. Draw back the bowstring with the arrow on the bow, then let go the string and arrow at the same time—increase the dynamism and intelligence of the mind, and then act. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
When the tiger is in the bush, there is always time to draw back the bow.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
I like to practice Maharishi's Transcendental Meditation® technique (TM) because it’s comfortable and is a good investment of time. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
copyright © 2011 by Timothy Raymond &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Tolzmann&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2127746432727680004-5590454294407477134?l=timtolzmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wkrov7vPp1Ol7jZSiRXUl5wb0ew/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wkrov7vPp1Ol7jZSiRXUl5wb0ew/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PhilosophyOfAnArtistAndCraftsman/~4/C_1epd5agYQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://timtolzmann.blogspot.com/feeds/5590454294407477134/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2127746432727680004&amp;postID=5590454294407477134" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127746432727680004/posts/default/5590454294407477134?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127746432727680004/posts/default/5590454294407477134?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PhilosophyOfAnArtistAndCraftsman/~3/C_1epd5agYQ/this-is-photo-of-me.html" title="" /><author><name>Timothy Tolzmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11109934502192856069</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="18" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NflpE_EouGg/TwB65NzhfdI/AAAAAAAAAMs/gLcr3JLbGv8/s220/101_0114.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L24rn2UlfCU/Tks1wwZv6EI/AAAAAAAAAJs/a2l7vUjJjVc/s72-c/101_0114.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://timtolzmann.blogspot.com/2011/08/this-is-photo-of-me.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUFSX8-cSp7ImA9WhdQF0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2127746432727680004.post-4498779149131726848</id><published>2010-03-09T04:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-08-19T16:40:18.159-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-19T16:40:18.159-07:00</app:edited><title>How to Whittle</title><content type="html">You can whittle away spare time and have a pleasant piece of art to show for it, a gift, perhaps, or a show piece for yourself.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't require much equipment, just a knife, a honing stone, honing oil, and optional sandpaper and wood finish.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;I like to put an old rug on a table top and sit there with my elbows on the table. But you might like to sit outside.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Any sharp knife will do, but I prefer one with an immovable blade. A whittler's knife is available from http://www.constantines.com/search.aspx?find=whittling+knife. (I've only used the straight one).
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;If you don't have a honing sharpening stone, one can also be had from that source. A good honing oil can be mixed from equal parts 30W motor oil and kerosene or mineral spirits.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Sandpaper is optional, depending on whether you want a smoothly finished surface or the rustic surface left by the knife.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Finishing the whittling is also optional, but a finished piece won't get dirty as easily.  Shellac, lacquer, acrylic spray, varnish, and paint are the usual choices.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Now, for the wood. Scraps of solid wood you find anywhere will do. (Plywood is hard to whittle and the finished work probably won't please you.) Cabinet shops can be a good source. They'll often be glad to have you cart away their scraps. You might be able to get small pieces of excellent whittling wood this way. Good whittling wood is also available from lumber yards and woodworking supply stores.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Soft woods like pine, cedar, basswood, and mahagony are best for the beginner. Hard woods like walnut, oak and maple are harder to work, especially when much wood is to be removed, but they can be worth the extra effort.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Now for the object you want to whittle. The main categories are representational or abstract - a figurine or a free-form design. If you choose a figurine, you might draw a pattern on the wood. If you prefer an abstract object you may not want to draw and follow lines, but may choose to let the shape of the block and the grain of the wood inspire and guide your cuts.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;But whatever your choice in wood and design, it's your hobby. It's for you to enjoy. Use your imagination.&lt;div&gt;© 1980 Timothy Raymond Tolzmann&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2127746432727680004-4498779149131726848?l=timtolzmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PS7t6oeGTzVsgWEMyvrhzxXGvN4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PS7t6oeGTzVsgWEMyvrhzxXGvN4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PS7t6oeGTzVsgWEMyvrhzxXGvN4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PS7t6oeGTzVsgWEMyvrhzxXGvN4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PhilosophyOfAnArtistAndCraftsman/~4/De7Pxb1S5sA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://timtolzmann.blogspot.com/feeds/4498779149131726848/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2127746432727680004&amp;postID=4498779149131726848" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127746432727680004/posts/default/4498779149131726848?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127746432727680004/posts/default/4498779149131726848?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PhilosophyOfAnArtistAndCraftsman/~3/De7Pxb1S5sA/how-to-whittle.html" title="How to Whittle" /><author><name>Timothy Tolzmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11109934502192856069</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="18" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NflpE_EouGg/TwB65NzhfdI/AAAAAAAAAMs/gLcr3JLbGv8/s220/101_0114.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://timtolzmann.blogspot.com/2010/03/how-to-whittle.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU8CSXc7eyp7ImA9WxBVGEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2127746432727680004.post-4360945854129754549</id><published>2010-02-22T11:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T11:44:28.903-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-22T11:44:28.903-08:00</app:edited><title>creating</title><content type="html">When anyone creates, he/she transforms something into something. Creating a gift comes from with the deepest level one can muster.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2127746432727680004-4360945854129754549?l=timtolzmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/k94QUkS1bNmb816AGTJy2B8D_sA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/k94QUkS1bNmb816AGTJy2B8D_sA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/k94QUkS1bNmb816AGTJy2B8D_sA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/k94QUkS1bNmb816AGTJy2B8D_sA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PhilosophyOfAnArtistAndCraftsman/~4/VVzn1eHVFKQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://timtolzmann.blogspot.com/feeds/4360945854129754549/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2127746432727680004&amp;postID=4360945854129754549" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127746432727680004/posts/default/4360945854129754549?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127746432727680004/posts/default/4360945854129754549?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PhilosophyOfAnArtistAndCraftsman/~3/VVzn1eHVFKQ/creating.html" title="creating" /><author><name>Timothy Tolzmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11109934502192856069</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="18" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NflpE_EouGg/TwB65NzhfdI/AAAAAAAAAMs/gLcr3JLbGv8/s220/101_0114.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://timtolzmann.blogspot.com/2010/02/creating.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0IBRnc6eCp7ImA9WxVQGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2127746432727680004.post-79455744032058777</id><published>2009-02-06T06:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T06:12:37.910-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-06T06:12:37.910-08:00</app:edited><title>Categories of Art</title><content type="html">Perhaps my art is figurative, rather than literal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2127746432727680004-79455744032058777?l=timtolzmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yb3Eg2Sqa6klP81iO6TXT184zLY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yb3Eg2Sqa6klP81iO6TXT184zLY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yb3Eg2Sqa6klP81iO6TXT184zLY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yb3Eg2Sqa6klP81iO6TXT184zLY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PhilosophyOfAnArtistAndCraftsman/~4/H96fIcAPdiw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://timtolzmann.blogspot.com/feeds/79455744032058777/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2127746432727680004&amp;postID=79455744032058777" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127746432727680004/posts/default/79455744032058777?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127746432727680004/posts/default/79455744032058777?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PhilosophyOfAnArtistAndCraftsman/~3/H96fIcAPdiw/categories-of-art.html" title="Categories of Art" /><author><name>Timothy Tolzmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11109934502192856069</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="18" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NflpE_EouGg/TwB65NzhfdI/AAAAAAAAAMs/gLcr3JLbGv8/s220/101_0114.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://timtolzmann.blogspot.com/2009/02/categories-of-art.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU8NSXY9fCp7ImA9WxRWGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2127746432727680004.post-1356909504651629187</id><published>2008-11-06T05:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T05:24:58.864-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-11-06T05:24:58.864-08:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">Craftsmanship tries, and succeeds, to make objects in the maker's own image.  Does art, too?  Does science try to make the objective world in the scientist's own image?  To find that the outside world is One's Self?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2127746432727680004-1356909504651629187?l=timtolzmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FgclvnBLdfHM_aJt8Sz1_EJbN7k/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FgclvnBLdfHM_aJt8Sz1_EJbN7k/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FgclvnBLdfHM_aJt8Sz1_EJbN7k/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FgclvnBLdfHM_aJt8Sz1_EJbN7k/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PhilosophyOfAnArtistAndCraftsman/~4/WmnQowSL0dI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://timtolzmann.blogspot.com/feeds/1356909504651629187/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2127746432727680004&amp;postID=1356909504651629187" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127746432727680004/posts/default/1356909504651629187?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127746432727680004/posts/default/1356909504651629187?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PhilosophyOfAnArtistAndCraftsman/~3/WmnQowSL0dI/craftsmanship-tries-and-succeeds-to.html" title="" /><author><name>Timothy Tolzmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11109934502192856069</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="18" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NflpE_EouGg/TwB65NzhfdI/AAAAAAAAAMs/gLcr3JLbGv8/s220/101_0114.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://timtolzmann.blogspot.com/2008/11/craftsmanship-tries-and-succeeds-to.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0ABQXY4fSp7ImA9WxNVF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2127746432727680004.post-7606862439936265831</id><published>2008-07-23T15:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T10:42:30.835-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-28T10:42:30.835-07:00</app:edited><title>First Post</title><content type="html">Hello,&lt;br /&gt;
I hope that this will prove to be useful and enjoyable for all. Philosophy: the love of pure knowledge. Artist: a specialist, or &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;attempter,&lt;/span&gt; at art. Art: exist, be; a work of art has as its purpose the gift of the experience of Being. Which is eternal life. A craftsman attempts to fashion &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;externality&lt;/span&gt; into himself. To reproduce himself. To create in his own image.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When making art, I let myself be. The painting, I want to let become. Perhaps I'm both father and mother to it. Inspiration: it's the impulse in my heart, the point that I give free rein to, that becomes a line, and a two dimensional shape, in my heart and on the paper. I wonder if I could be a wiser father, by guiding the process: be a better father. But I go by feeling. If feeling is the mother in me, it seems I let her be my art's guiding light. But I witness. I'm father. The mother in me, is she me too?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Harold &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Waldwin&lt;/span&gt; Percival, in his book&lt;em&gt;, Thinking and Destiny&lt;/em&gt;, wrote that in men, desire is the "guiding factor", (I think that's a fair assessment of it), and in women, it's feeling. He wrote that, (perhaps I paraphrase), art is skill in expression of feeling and desire. Is he referring to the impulse to create? The "guiding factor" is the predominant reality. Desire or feeling. "It takes two to tango" it's said, or at least I heard it years ago.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I desire to create a separate entity. Why? According to the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Vedic&lt;/span&gt; tradition, there are fours aims of life. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Dharma&lt;/span&gt;: I think that's one's allotted duty. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Artha&lt;/span&gt;: utility, wealth, I think maybe business. Kama: I think that's desire. And &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;moksha&lt;/span&gt;: liberation. So maybe art is my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;kama&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2127746432727680004-7606862439936265831?l=timtolzmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Q0LSCWJy3ck5f-P8Kl9gZTFShDc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Q0LSCWJy3ck5f-P8Kl9gZTFShDc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Q0LSCWJy3ck5f-P8Kl9gZTFShDc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Q0LSCWJy3ck5f-P8Kl9gZTFShDc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PhilosophyOfAnArtistAndCraftsman/~4/mAsVMqxaiSw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://timtolzmann.blogspot.com/feeds/7606862439936265831/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2127746432727680004&amp;postID=7606862439936265831" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127746432727680004/posts/default/7606862439936265831?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2127746432727680004/posts/default/7606862439936265831?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PhilosophyOfAnArtistAndCraftsman/~3/mAsVMqxaiSw/first-post.html" title="First Post" /><author><name>Timothy Tolzmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11109934502192856069</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="18" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NflpE_EouGg/TwB65NzhfdI/AAAAAAAAAMs/gLcr3JLbGv8/s220/101_0114.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://timtolzmann.blogspot.com/2008/07/first-post.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

