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Thread: My art

  1. #621
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    No need to apologize - you didn't know my background (I have an MFA in Creative Writing, although sometimes it's really hard to tell that, because I can be really non-creative at times.)

    As for that short story, that was written when I was a wee lass in finding my "voice" (about 6 years ago) and is a bit of a departure from my normal plot/style. I don't really care about awards, I just want people to enjoy what I write and take something from it that is meaningful to them.

    I've never been able to find a good fiction site either, but I've been workshopped to death, so even if I did I'm not sure I'd go running to it.

    I read you wanted to be the next Dylan Thomas. He's one of my all time faves. I'd love to see if you are. By all means share with us!
    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?

  2. #622
    FORT Fogey nausicaa's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by hazyshadeof
    I read you wanted to be the next Dylan Thomas. He's one of my all time faves. I'd love to see if you are. By all means share with us!
    Unfortunately, hazyshadeof, you read the post in which I professed my desire to be Dylan Thomas, but not the post in which I admitted to being delusional.

    I just recently replaced the hard disk on my computer, so all my old files are stored on 12 different disks. I might be able to dig something up that's not entirely crap (though certainly not Dylan Thomas! ) We'll see.

  3. #623
    The Truth Is Out There ixcrisxi's Avatar
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    Well, well, well... I have found another poem for you all. Yes, hazy, it is another one straight from the heart. Of course, it is filled with all the na´ve misgivings of my age. Oh well! Yes, I know it is long but stay with me!
    ------------------------
    Everything has a gentler side,
    though we may not always see it.
    There's a high price for prying
    into others' lives.
    How does it all work?
    Everyone has some type of quirk.
    We all want nothing more
    than to find how things work.
    We slave away
    eager to see the day
    when our searching reaps fruit.
    Ticking,
    I can see the wheels inside your head.
    They're turning
    as if bound to an invisible thread.
    I'm mysterious.
    You know I am.
    My gentler side is hidden
    within a thousand alabies.
    I'mt not as tame,
    not as meek.
    I was hard-pressed to find
    you aren't as weak.
    So strong of will,
    lips so bittersweet...
    I'll spend my time on you.
    Maybe I'll grow as tall as a tree.
    Tell me your secrets.
    I really want to know.
    Your mind is so foreign to me.
    Show me how to unlock you.
    Let me bust into your soul.
    Your mind, and all its secrets,
    I want to know.
    I feel something different,
    a thirst to find knowledge...
    Knowledge too easily gained
    if only you'd set the walls to crumble.
    I'd be able to latch myself
    onto your being.
    I'll scour you as you'll do to me.
    I'm going to pursue you
    to all extremes.
    I'm gonna be the only recollection
    you have of ecstacy.
    A gentler side...
    I have a wilder side
    inside myself,
    waiting to be unleashed.
    MULDER: It's still there, Scully. 200,000 years down in the ice.

    SCULLY:
    Leave it there.

  4. #624
    Courtesy and Goodwill Mantenna's Avatar
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    That's an excellent poem, Crissy!! I always love your work.

  5. #625
    The Truth Is Out There ixcrisxi's Avatar
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    Thanks, Mantenna! Though, I'll have to tell you a story about that one later.

    Btw, when are you going to post something for us?
    MULDER: It's still there, Scully. 200,000 years down in the ice.

    SCULLY:
    Leave it there.

  6. #626
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    We all have a wilder side waiting to be unleashed, don't we.

    As I've said before Ix. Keep writing.

    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?

  7. #627
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    Well since I triple posted by accident, I'll torment ya'll with an excerpt from my novel about the lead characters first kiss.

    I knocked on the door. Gentle, like a kid would tap on his parent's bedroom when he wanted to wake them but wasn't quite sure it was a good idea. What would I say? What would I do? What if she decided all of a sudden she didn't like me anymore. What if she still just wanted to be friends. Thoughts, all of them bad, raced through me as I waited for someone to answer. I half hoped someone besides Laurel would answer the door so I wouldn't make a complete idiot of myself. When I saw the long wisps of blonde hair and the smile I had implanted long ago on my ceiling of dreams, I knew I wasn't going to be spared... it was her.

    "Alex," she said, almost leaping into my arms. My hands rested in my front pockets, unsure, awkward. Not knowing whether to leave them there, to bring her in closer to me, to pat her lightly on the back like one would pet their dog.

    She stepped back, tilted her head, puzzled.

    "What's wrong?"

    "Nothing."

    Quiet. She looks over me, studying me. I take her in, she's wearing a light spring colored tank top, the straps of her bra peeking out, and cutoff denim shorts.

    "Are you sure? You seem nervous."

    Well for f**** sake, of course I'm nervous, I think. Look at you. Why are you with me?

    "I am. I... I... I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

    She grabbed me by the hand and pulled me towards the driveway. "Come on," she said. "We can talk about this in the car." I followed her obediently, my eyes locked on the side of her face, recollecting features I'd long since memorized. I opened the door for her, and stopped as I walked behind the car to watch her. Unaware I was fixated on her, she flicked her hair to the side. She looked over her shoulder and caught me staring at her. I felt a little foolish, like I'd just walked into the ladies room by mistake. A slight smile pursed her lips and she motioned for me with her index finger. Seducing me. Alluring me. Inviting. Closer. Closer. I sat down next to her and started to fasten my seatbelt.

    "Alex," she said, almost whispering, her voice close.

    I didn't look. I didn't move. Frozen like a statue of ice. "Yea?"

    "Kiss me."

    "Huuh. Uuhhh. What?"

    Oh Christ, Alex. How to NOT kiss a girl by Alex West.

    "I said kiss me."

    Still staring straight ahead. Paralyzed. Never more afraid in my entire life.

    Her hand reached for my face, and turned it towards her.

    "Please?" her face moving closer to mine. Eyes intense.

    If she was joking, she was the world's best actress. Something in her eyes. In the way her voice pleaded with me. It made me believe her. She wanted me to kiss her. I placed my trembling left hand on her neatly folded knees. I moved in closer, the smell of her shampoo, a light floral scent, making me want to bury my head in her hair and inhale. Lips touching. Light. Warm. Moist. Tastes like watermelon. My right hand moves to the small of her back. My left hand moves to her cheek. Grazing with my fingertips. Floating through the clouds. Her hair like silk melting in my grasp. Tongues dancing. A waltz. A tango. Closer. The feel of her chest pressed against mine. Her hand clenching my arm. Blood rushing. This was all I had ever wanted. All I had ever needed. All I had ever dreamed of. I loved her. I loved her. I f***ing loved her.
    Last edited by hazyshadeof; 07-21-2003 at 04:10 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?

  8. #628
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    And what else can I share to clear up this triple post mess? Oh here's a little something I wrote for someone once upon a time. Probably needs some work, but oh well!

    "Doors"

    It's a small room. Ten foot by ten foot. There are no doors. No windows. Only mirrors. The walls. The ceiling. Even the floor is reflective glass. You look around and see yourself everywhere. Even the table top which you are seated at projects your image back at you. There is no escaping you.

    Strangely, though, you are calm. You don't panic or scream. You sit and look straight ahead. There is no one else in the room.

    "Where am I?" you say, in a tone expectant of an answer.

    It is quiet for a moment, and then a voice -- a familiar voice -- speaks.

    "I do not know where you are. That is for you to determine."

    "But why am I here?" you ask.

    "Again," the familiar voice responds, "I do not know the answers you wish, I am merely the start."

    "The start?"

    "Yes."

    "I don't understand."

    "Confusion and chaos permeate your life, do they not?"

    "Yes... but what's that have to do with this?"

    "You seek answers to your life."

    "Doesn't everyone?"

    "There is a door in this room. When you walk out of the door you will encounter parts of your life, either in the past, the future, or the present. Much like Dicken's fabled tale if you will. Somewhere you will find the solution to what torments you."

    "Uhhhh... OK," you answer, puzzled. "What do I do then?"

    "You will know what to do."

    The room goes quiet again and you know the voice has left. You stand, turn and see the small metallic handle to a door camouflaged carefully into the wall. The handle turns quickly and the door pushes outward.

    You are somewhat taken aback when you see what is beyond the door. It's a park, but not the ordinary park you find on the corner of your typical suburban neighborhood. No, this park is like no other. Centered in the middle is a merry go round, bright red, freshly painted. An old man grabs a hold of one of the rails, shiny like a firemans pole, jerks it hard, and three small children squeal in delight as they start to spin around. To the left is a swimming pool, blue like the oceans of the South Pacific, complete with water slides and diving boards. Laughter and splashing. To the right is a roller rink, kids skating around, falling, grinning from ear to ear, as music you haven't heard since you were eight guides them around the hardwood floors. An ice cream stand is nestled in the corner next to a lone park bench. Surrounding it all is a sea of green. Lush, soft, grass for miles and miles. It's sunny, a light breeze, not too hot, a couple of clouds to lie in the grass and stare at. Perfect. If there were a Heaven, you think, surely this is it. You sit on the bench, light and alive. The memories of your childhood in front of you. Waiting for you to relive them forever. Is this what the voice meant you wonder? Do I need to live in the past, in your childhood, to be happy? You could be happy here. But something is missing. You see a door behind the ice cream stand, already open. You walk to it, taking one last look behind you, and pausing before stepping through.

    Again there is laughter. This time, however, it's the laughter of adults. You smell the distinct aroma of barbeque. Picnic tables, horseshoes, sand volleyball, beer bottles and frozen margaritas. Every friend you've ever had is here. Every family member you've ever loved. It's the party of a lifetime. The practical joker of the bunch is sucking on helium balloons and doing Donald Duck meets Mike Tyson impressions. Couples cuddle up next to one another while gnawing away at some corn. You could debate politics with friends from college. You can catch up on the latest family gossip with your Mom's sisters. Every one you've ever loved, it seems, is here. Why would I ever want to leave here, you think to yourself? What more could I want than this? Laughter. Family. Friends. Good food. Good times. This has to be it. This has to be what the voice was talking about. You look around and smile. So good to see everyone. You want to join in. A pain of awareness comes over you. As if someone has pricked your arm with a needle, you realize, that while this appears to be everything, it isn't. The chaos won't go away if you stay. Being here wouldn't solve the emptiness. You walk towards the already open door beyond the horseshoe pit. This time, you don't look back. You're eager to find out what is next, and step through.

    The first thing you notice is the music. Your favorite song is playing. You are shocked to find not only is it playing, but the band who sings it is there. Singing it. Live. You half want to run up and scream and dance and sing along with them. But then you see what else is there. All the things you love. Art. Movies. Books. A good cup of coffee. Music. Good food. It's all here. All ready for the taking. It's a smorgasbord of culture. You could stay here and never once be bored. But you know. You know while this might be a fun place to be, it's not the end. You smile at the band as you walk by them, to the door, again already open, that leads you elsewhere. The next place is the most tempting of all. It's all of the previous places combined. Your childhood sits to your left. Your friends and family straight ahead. And to the right, all the things you love. And even this is not enough. You look for the door. Nowhere. You snap your head left to right, searching, frantic. This can't be it, you think. I can feel it inside. Something is out there. The answer. I must go back, you think. There must have been a door I missed. You turn and go back through the door expecting to be right behind the band again.

    But you are not. Instead you are in a small room, the sound of cars racing by -- a well traveled street in the background. Kids yelling outside the lone window. The sounds of a busy city everywhere. Noise. So much noise. A clutter of books is piled against one wall. A collection of CD's piled against another. A computer idles away quietly on a desk in the corner. A bed sits to the left of the desk. On the bed, there is a lone figure, sleeping peacefully. His head rests on a pillow, his arms extended out as if he is holding someone. You sit on the edge of the bed and watch him breathing. His chest rising softly. His feet sticking out from underneath the blanket. You turn and look at the door. Standing slowly, you walk over to it. You shut the door and place yourself in the arms of the sleeping man.
    Last edited by hazyshadeof; 07-21-2003 at 04:13 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?

  9. #629
    The Truth Is Out There ixcrisxi's Avatar
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    Just ask John to do it for ya'. He hasn't enabled that feature, yet...

    Thanks, hazy. I appreciate it from you. Btw, nice little excerpt.
    Last edited by ixcrisxi; 07-21-2003 at 04:15 AM.
    MULDER: It's still there, Scully. 200,000 years down in the ice.

    SCULLY:
    Leave it there.

  10. #630
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    That's weird, used to be able to delete your own threads. Oh well, I just went and edited them and subjected ya'll to more of my writing. So blame the software for that!
    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?

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