A Richer Kind of Time - A Poem

When you are slowly dying

You spend a lot of time

Thinking about quality.

Quality of life

Of medical care

Of relationships.

Quality of your time.

You try to fill your days

With constructive

And positive

And useful things to do

You concentrate on the good

And try like hell

To fix the bad

And push it away

When you can't.

And it's okay

To cry

When your life clock

Stands at 3 minutes

To midnight

And you don't want to go yet.

Me, I don't fear it

I also don't seek it

I know it's coming

And I realized

It could happen tomorrow

In a car wreck

Or a Walmart shooter's spree

Or I could defy

My multiple diagnoses

And live another 25 years.

Nobody knows for sure

When the Reaper

Decides to show up.

So I live for the day,

I make them count

I love on my family

I love on my friends

My dogs

And really most importantly

I love on myself.

I am not living

On borrowed time

I merely live

On shortened time.

And when 

You make it good

That is enough.

Copyright Jennifer Thomas, 2026

Pocket-Sized Masterpieces: The Joy of ATCs

There is a quiet magic in creating something beautiful with your own two hands, but there is an even greater joy in sending that piece of your heart out into the world to make a brand-new friend. This is the beautiful essence of Artist Trading Cards. These miniature works of art, affectionately called ATCs, carry a delightful tradition where the only strict rule is their size; every single card must be exactly 2 ½ by 3 ½ inches, which is the precise size of a standard baseball card.

Within those tiny dimensions, the creative possibilities are absolutely endless. You can use any medium your heart desires, whether that means drawing intricate patterns with white gel pens on dark paper, blending watercolors, or layering bits of vintage paper and ephemera for a beautiful collage. Because they are so small, there is no pressure to create a massive masterpiece; instead, you get to experiment with colors and textures, making each little card a unique expression of your imagination.

Finding My Lines: How a Week of Drawing Made Me Feel Alive

The dolphin on left was drawn on my first day, last Monday. The one on right was drawn on my sixth day. Daily practice is wonderful.

It is a weird, awesome feeling when your hands finally start catching up with your brain. At the beginning of the week, every time I put pen to paper, the lines came out looking completely gimpy. I'd have a perfect image in my head, but what actually ended up on the page looked shaky, lopsided, and just totally off. 

My Private Sanctuary of Ink and Paper

When the four walls of my home start to feel less like a shelter and more like a boundary, my creative rituals become my doorway. Being housebound can easily make a person feel adrift, but for me, passing the time isn't about killing hours; it is about reclaiming my soul and keeping my sanity intact.

Ink, Strings, and Serenity OR Happy Little Clouds

There is a specific kind of silence that happens the moment I cap my pen after finishing a Zentangle. My hand is usually a bit cramped from the precision of the patterns, but my mind is finally quiet. To keep that peace from evaporating, I reach for my ukulele. The transition from the visual rhythm of ink on paper to the literal vibration of strings against my fingertips is where I find my center.

It’s a world of tiny, deliberate wonders. One hour I’m watching a Shrinky Dink curl and toughen under the heat, and the next I’m assembling an angel keychain, bead by bead. These aren't just crafts; they are anchors. In a world that feels increasingly loud and disposable, these small acts of creation are how I claim my space.

Creating, Growing, and Returning to Life

For a long time, I thought my creative life had gone quiet. Not dead, just sleeping under a pile of exhaustion, pain, and the everyday grind of being a human with a body that doesn’t always cooperate. But lately something has cracked open again. I’ve been wandering back into the arts like someone returning to a house they used to live in. Everything feels familiar, but also new in ways I didn’t expect..

New Art

 

There's a WHOLE bunch of new art inside...

Who has time to be bored? Not me!

Today was not really an art day. I diddled around with the Gimp for about an hour, then my writing muse slapped me upside my head. I have written six articles for my blog today about all kinds of things:

• Impeaching Trump 
• Chicago and Music being in my bones
• A bit about a portmanteued proverb I love 
• One about nicotine addiction
• One about god, or the idea of god, or whatever
• And this one, which only kind of counts

It was a productive day.

I really am an eclectic freak. Playing uke and recorder, doing digital art and zentangle and making jewelry, and writing from my gut. Between all that, I talk to people, make new friends, share a gazillion memes, play computer games, and more. And when I go to bed, I read for at least an hour before turning out the light.

I don't have time to be bored. Considering that I'm basically housebound and can't really leave my bedroom due to the difficulty involved in hauling my carcass from room to room, my life is incredibly rich and full.

I am a very fortunate old crone.

More Zentangle

 

Mogen David's for Donna Zentangle

 

Zentangles r Us

 

This is my first zentangle in seven years. I am getting back into the art form.