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Thread: My art

  1. #611
    They're so cute! brenna's Avatar
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    Thanks Hazy!
    I'd put in a bigger picture for you, but I don't really know how. The first time I tried to attach it, it was too big, so I had to make it smaller.
    It's Peanut Butter Jelly Time!

  2. #612
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    Here's the bigger version. (thanks for sending it to me brenna).

    http://home.mn.rr.com/ahazyshadeof/pointilismpic.jpg
    I know someday you'll have a beautiful life, I know you'll be a star in somebody else's eyes... but why... why... why can't it be me?

  3. #613
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    A short story that I'll break up into two parts for dramatic effect. This is one of the first things I ever wrote for someone other than myself (I wrote it for an Intro to Creative Writing class as a college freshman).

    "Crash Into Me, Part One"

    It's amazing how blue the sky is when everything is going right. Walking on the beach this morning, my bare feet letting the loose grains of sand slip between my toes, I could only smile and whistle the cheeriest of tunes.

    God, life is so f-ing great, I thought. She was no more than 100 feet from me, curled within the confines of the sheets of my bed. Her warm skin had only moments ago been nestled up against mine. It had been a prison I did not want to escape from.

    Have you ever watched one of those movies where just everything goes perfect? Where the boy and girl unexpectedly meet, fall in love, and their life is like a fairytale. No sad endings, just pure bliss. Not even the interfering party that so often happens in a film. Our life was a dream, and it was one I never wanted to wake up from.

    I had met her about 5 years ago. Rollerblading along the boardwalks of Venice Beach had always been one of my favorite things to do. On this particular day, it was overcast with rain on the horizon. I did not let that stop me; however, knowing I would be one of the few brave enough to venture out.

    Sure enough there were not that many people out. I was cruising along, staring off into space, when all of a sudden I saw a blur out of the corner of my eyes.

    "Oh my God," I heard a quiet scream.

    Dazed, I gathered my senses. What had just happened? Glancing around I saw I was ass deep in the sand of the beach. How in the hell did I get here?

    "Oh my God," the voice came again. The voice. I turned my head and looked towards it. The sun illuminated the figure above me, the shadows almost making her seem like a giant. All I could see was long wisps of brown hair, a slender figure and two hands clasped on a head.

    "I am so sorry," she stammered. "I'm just not very good at this yet, and well I came around the corner and I just couldn't stop."

    Starting to answer, I discovered my mouth was filled with sand. Oh this is lovely, I thought, she must think this is terribly amusing. Sure enough, I heard her stifling a giggle.

    "What's so funny," I almost spat out, laughing a little as I wiped my mouth with the bottom portion of my tank top.

    "Oh nothing," she giggled. "Nothing at all. You just look so cute down there with mud in your mouth, sort of like a little boy playing in the rain."

    "Sure," I retorted. "Make fun of the little guy. I bet you say that to all the guys you plow over into the beach."

    Finally, I stood up and assessed the one who had so swiftly knocked me on my ass. She was laughing even harder now as I took in her features. It figures, I muttered quietly to no one but my inner thoughts. I would get knocked on my butt by the most beautiful thing to ever grace these boardwalks. She was tall, maybe two inches shorter than my 6 foot tall frame, with the long brown hair that I had only caught momentarily before. Looking into her chuckling face I saw her eyes were as blue and soft as the clouds on a bright summer day.

    She reached over and grazed her hand along my shirt. Her touch electrified me, sending shock waves all thru me.

    "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, obviously noting my reaction. "I was just brushing this sand off of you."

    "Don't mind me," I laughed. "You can brush me wherever you want."

    She almost glimmered at my sarcastic response, and slowly proceeded to brush off not only my shirt, but my legs as well.

    That was how we met. Afterwards she had offered to buy me a drink to help me quench my sand filled throat. A drink turned into dinner, and dinner turned into the exchanging of phone numbers. That Friday we went out, and two years later we had exchanged wedding vows as the sun set over the same boardwalk where she had literally crashed into me.

    Our whole relationship had been one of amazing proportions. We knew each other's thoughts and emotions. We knew when to hold and comfort, or when to leave the other alone. It was this all knowing sense that led to this feeling of ecstasy that I had every day. If we fought, it was playful in nature. Not once had we ever raised our voices at one another, well, not unless you count those passionate nights in the bedroom.

    As I dressed for work, I looked in the mirror at her vision lying behind me. Her head stirred and she moaned a little.

    "Hey you," she whispered lustily. "Leaving me so soon?"

    I walked over to her and kissed her softly on her dry morning lips.

    "Yes doll," I answered. "I have an early meeting, but I'll be home in time for our evening out."

    She smiled as I started to walk away. Her voice called out after me as I was near the door.

    "Babe," she called again.

    "Yea," I said, half turning.

    "I have a meeting at 6, how about I just meet you at Humphrey's at about 8."

    "Sure," I said, starting to close the door behind me. "I'll see you then. Love ya."

    I didn't hear her say "Love ya too" as I walked out, I didn't need to. I knew she did.

    Work for some reason was unusually slow. My thoughts turned to the evening and what we would be doing tonight. Dinner at Humphrey's, a cozy place overlooking the bay, with the most unknown but incredible pianist you could ever imagine playing music softly in the background. After dinner we would head over to Moose's for some dancing, and then back to the house for private lessons in the bedroom. It was something we did about once a month, and each time was as special as the last.

    I arrived at Humphrey's shortly before 8, the maitre'd leading me to our customary spot, a little two-top table by the window just within earshot of the piano. I sipped on the Merlot I ordered, taking in it's soft fruity fragrance, waiting patiently for her arrival. After sipping down a second glass, I began to worry.

    It wasn't like her to be this late. I dialed her cellphone, half expecting her to answer telling me she had gone to our other meeting place at the other end of the bay. There was no answer however. "Hmmmmm, that's weird," I thought. I set twenty dollars down on the table and told the maitre'd we would see him next month.

    My heart raced a little as I hurried home, skirting amongst the cars littering the road. "You're just being paranoid," I kept telling myself. There was a light on at the house when I got home. I smiled, that little happy smile one gets when they know they've been surprised. She probably had set up something really romantic and sweet, knowing full and well I would come home eventually.

    I walked in the door excitedly. "Hon," I said "What oh what are you doing?"

    Sitting there at the kitchen counter was her sister, tears staining her red cheeks.

    "Oh, hi" she said quietly, stumbling over to me, her arms almost reaching for me.

    "No," I thought. "Nooooooooooooooooooooo"

    "She.... she.... she's dead"
    Last edited by hazyshadeof; 07-20-2003 at 02:14 AM.
    I know someday you'll have a beautiful life, I know you'll be a star in somebody else's eyes... but why... why... why can't it be me?

  4. #614
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    "Crash Into Me, Part Two"


    I collapsed to the ground as her arms wrapped themselves around me.

    "H.. How?" I managed to stammer between sobs.

    She wasn't much more coherent. "She.. she was hit by a tanker... her... her car exploded."

    We didn't say much. Instead we grasped at each other, holding on as if it was her last breath still lingering in the air. Finally, don't ask me how, some sense of calmness came over us, and we stood up. We simultaneously collected ourselves, wiping our faces off on our shirt sleeves.

    She broke the eery silence. "Everyone's at the hospital, we should probably head over there."

    "Yea," was all I was able to mutter.

    Driving towards the hospital, I called my mother from my cellphone to let her know the news. The display told me I had 2 messages, but I could really care less about what my friends thought of the basketball game.

    I didn't stay long at the hospital. It was a mess. Family members sobbing uncontrollably, all trying their best to console me. I didn't want any of it. I wanted to be alone. I talked with the doctors and the police, confirming it was indeed her car that had been destroyed. She had been burnt beyond recognition in the blast and they were awaiting her dental records to confirm. A mere formality, I thought miserably to myself.

    I hailed a cab to take me home, my forehead pressed against the window looking out into the darkness of the night. We drove by the bay, where just hours before I was supposed to be having dinner with my wife. I remembered walking out of the door this morning, not hearing her tell me she loved me. At the time, I had not thought of it as meaning anything, but now, oh God now, I wanted to hear those three words one last time. I wanted to look into her eyes and let her know she would always be the flame to my candle.

    "Stop here," I told the cabbie as he passed Humphrey's.

    "What's that sir?" he asked.

    "I said stop here, I'm going to go for a walk."

    He looked back at me as he pulled over.

    "Keep the meter running, I'll be back in a bit."

    Stepping out of the cab, I looked at the location that had become a favorite of ours. I walked down the path that went past the restaurant to the waterfront. I sat there looking out at the calm waters, casually tossing pebbles into it. The moon lit up the water, it's shadow casting a bright path all the way down the center. Part of me wanted to walk on that path, into the water, and never look back. Her memory haunted me. I could feel her there.

    I turned and headed back to the cab. Why? I kept asking myself, and whomever might be listening in the skies above? Why did you take her from me? What did I do? Why are you punishing me? Anyone but her. Anyone.

    I crossed the street to where the cab was waiting and was just about to get in the door when I heard a voice beckoning from across the street.

    I looked up.

    "Babe," the voice said.

    My eyes narrowed in on the voice, standing across the street at the entrance to Humphrey's.

    "Oh my God," I screamed, not sure if it was an internal scream or an external one.

    It was her. She was alive. This had all been just a terrible nightmare.

    I started to run across the street towards her, wanting to hold her so close and never let go again. I never wanted to feel the pain I had experienced this night. I saw her coming to me, her mouth moving, speaking to me. My mind was lost though, all I wanted was to touch her. To tell her I loved her.

    The last thing I remember was looking out of the corner of my eye, and seeing the car that was about to hit me.
    Last edited by hazyshadeof; 07-20-2003 at 02:18 AM.
    I know someday you'll have a beautiful life, I know you'll be a star in somebody else's eyes... but why... why... why can't it be me?

  5. #615
    Lucky!! octobergirl's Avatar
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    Wow! This is the first time I've ventured into this thread and I came right to the end here and read Hazy's story. Wow! I've got goose bumps! Interesting short story and unexpected ending, too. I like it!
    Last week, Japanese scientists explaced... placed explosive detonators at the bottom of Lake Loch Ness to blow Nessie out of the water. Sir Godfrey of the Nessie Alliance summoned the help of Scotland's local wizards to cast a protective spell over the lake and its local residents and all those who seek for the peaceful existence of our underwater ally. ~ Napoleon Dynamite

  6. #616
    eternal optimist Shazzer's Avatar
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    Wow! I have not been here for awhile! I've just gone back several pages, and well...great job everyone!
    Last edited by Shazzer; 07-20-2003 at 04:18 AM.
    "If you're like me, you have a 'been there, done that' attitude when it comes to paleolithic paleontology." - Jon Stewart

    "I swear, you are the ho-ho ho." - OTS

  7. #617
    eternal optimist Shazzer's Avatar
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    Brenna - almost forgot...pointillism! Kudos to you! (I've done a few of those and they.....take...for...ever...) Fantastique! (I hope you don't have carpal tunnel now. )
    "If you're like me, you have a 'been there, done that' attitude when it comes to paleolithic paleontology." - Jon Stewart

    "I swear, you are the ho-ho ho." - OTS

  8. #618
    FORT Fogey nausicaa's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by hazyshadeof

    "Apologies"
    didn't want to quote the whole poem

    Hey, hazyshadeof! Are you an aspiring poet? If so, and if you want valuable critiques of your work, you might want to check out this online poetry forum: www.poemkingdom.com. Don't be put off by its hokey layout and occasionally even hokier titles. Go into "Community Forums", then "Taskmaster's Chasm" and have your poetry scrutinzed by fellow poetry enthusiasts, aspiring (and published) poets, and teachers. I used to hang out in there all the time, and some of the people are truly knowledgeable about both the stylistic and structural aspects of poetry -especially its old moderator Mike Burch.

    Just a little suggestion.

  9. #619
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    Quote Originally Posted by nausicaa
    didn't want to quote the whole poem

    Hey, hazyshadeof! Are you an aspiring poet?
    Not really nausicaa, but I have had a poem or two published and like to write them occasionally to get out thoughts, feelings and other things on my mind, and well I used to keep it all to myself, but lately I've been in a sharing frame of mind, so I've been letting others read them... In grad school the thing we learned about poetry is to just let it out. To paint pictures with the words, but not necessarily worry about form and structure. There are fundamentalists/purists who would differ, but to me that's poetry. Images with words. Expressions with words. Rhyme and meter don't make much of a difference. At least not to me.

    I've learned the technical side of poetry. It's boring and for people who go to poetry readings and have nothing better to do than critique someone's heartache. That being said, though, there is some really bad poetry out there. As I mentioned before, I don't write poetry looking for feedback - it's kind of my journal/diary if you will. Nothing more. Thanks for the suggestion though, I'm sure someone will be able to make use of it.

    I am an aspiring novelist though. If anyone knows of a site similar to what you mentioned for poetry, that I'd be interested in. One of these days. One of these days.
    I know someday you'll have a beautiful life, I know you'll be a star in somebody else's eyes... but why... why... why can't it be me?

  10. #620
    FORT Fogey nausicaa's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by hazyshadeof
    I've learned the technical side of poetry. It's boring and for people who go to poetry readings and have nothing better to do than critique someone's heartache. That being said, though, there is some really bad poetry out there. As I mentioned before, I don't write poetry looking for feedback - it's kind of my journal/diary if you will. Nothing more. Thanks for the suggestion though, I'm sure someone will be able to make use of it.
    My apologies, hazyshadeof. If I had known about your background in poetry (and your aversion towards critques), I would not have suggested such a site. However, I concur with you - it still exists as an invaluable tool for those who are uniniated and wish to begin. That being said, however, the site (and the specific forum which I suggested) does not only deal with the technical side of poetry, but also with the imagistic and the stylistic. Furthermore, I find that imagery must be enhanced by coherent form, and even good poetry can be improved through discourse.

    P.S. I have yet to find a satisfactory forum for short stories or novels. I have never been able to grasp the art of the short story, and I am still too young and too green to handle anything that requires the skills involved in creating a novel. Best of luck to you, though. Are you aiming for the Pulitzer, the Booker, the Nebula, or the Poe? (From the looks of the story you last posted, I would guess it's the Poe )

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