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Thread: My Art

  1. #931
    I need to get out more bloonman's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2003
    mostly in my head
    Quote Originally Posted by Dex
    Is this FORT or the Artists/Writers/Poets Association? You people are really talented!

    bloonman- your creations never cease to amaze me! It's amazing how you always manage to get the exact colours (especially the piglet you gave crissy )

    Thanks, Dex! It's always been my pleasure to share my balloons and humor with people on this list. And yes--there are a lot of really talented people here.

    "I have abandoned my search for truth, and am now looking for a good fantasy." ~ Ashleigh Brilliant

  2. #932
    Anarchist AJane's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2003
    Quote Originally Posted by lalol
    To be honest that av is freaking me out average
    There's just no pleasing some people
    All my life, I have felt destiny tugging at my sleeve.~ Thursday Next
    I don't want to "go with the flow". The flow just washes you down the drain. I want to fight the flow.- Henry Rollins
    All this spiritual talk is great and everything...but at the end of the day, there's nothing like a pair of skinny jeans. - Jillian Michaels

  3. #933
    Quote Originally Posted by hazyshadeof
    I like this idea. I'm a big arts freak (music, art, visuals, literature). Here's a simple poem of mine that's still one of my favorites. It's about the shortest thing I have, everything else would take up way too much space.


    Running... away from you,
    Is all that I can do,
    Afraid, not of hurt, but of joy,
    Scared of life with you, and without you,
    I say things to hurt, to push you away,
    Then I love you, so close, so near,
    Wishing yesterday was yesterday,
    And that tomorrow was tomorrow,

    Love, what is it, I ask myself,
    Is it pain... is it sorrow?
    Is it laughter... and smiles...
    I yet not know this,
    But still I look,
    Things from the past haunt me now,
    Things of the future haunt me how,
    Wishing yesterday was yesterday,
    And that tomorrow was tomorrow,

    I long for the simple things,
    The pleasures so long unavailable,
    The happiness that love brings,
    The tears of completeness,
    The smiles of sweetness,
    The frowns of frustration,
    Yet complete.

    Why does one always question what you are,
    Or what you were.
    Why does everyone want you to be something,
    You are not.
    Why do they remember all the bad,
    And not the good.
    I just wish for once.
    That yesterday was yesterday,
    And tomorrow was tomorrow.
    Hazy! This is my fav. poem!

  4. #934
    Fade to black
    Join Date
    Mar 2003
    And the last part of the story "Play Again" for the one fan of the story.

    Donnie swore that it was over between him and Kathy, his old girlfriend, after Michelle confronted him. "I love you," he insisted. "You and Michael mean the world to me." Michelle had no other place to go, and when she saw the way Michael fell asleep in Donnie's arms that night she knew she would stay.

    Donnie's ship went to sea two months later, leaving Michelle and Michael alone like old times. Except now they had a two bedroom apartment which via the magic of Donnie's credit cards had become fully furnished. He had handed over his checkbook to Michelle before he left, telling her to take care of the bills. Every two weeks, as Donnie would be scrubbing some meaningless piece of pipe while floating in the Pacific Ocean, Michelle would get his paycheck. The military took care of everything it seemed, and for the first time since she had ran away, Michelle felt comfortable.

    Bored, Michelle found a job at a video store. She had finally gone to the Social Security Office and sent out for a new card. Michael loved his baby sitter, Nicki, especially her two year old son Dustin. They were best pals and many times Michelle would stay the night at Nicki's place and let the two of them run wild. Donnie would call Michelle collect whenever they pulled into some foreign port, and they would talk for five minutes and he would have to go. Often, Michelle could hear people laughing in the background, including the soft, sultry laughs of a female. She hated the fact that he had to be gone for so long, and that when they did talk it was only for a moment. Part of her wondered too if Donnie was being faithful. Ever since that one night, doubts had continually been in her head.

    When Donnie came home it was as if they had just met again. They made love like newlyweds for two weeks straight and could not get enough of each other. In time, however, everything turned into a routine. Work, come home and eat dinner, watch TV, go to bed, and if they hadn't fought like they normally did, they would make love. Before long, six months would pass and it was time for Donnie to go back to sea. This time, though, they would be able to keep in touch via e-mail. Donnie thought having a computer would help keep Michelle from getting bored and restless. Plus, they could use it to keep in touch.

    It was on the computer, in a chat room, that Michelle met Caroline. Bored one evening after Michael had gone to bed, and feeling lonely, Michelle ventured into a world unknown to her, but a world that strangely appealed to her. Here, she could be anyone and anything she wanted to be. She didn't have to be a nineteen year old runaway, with a three year old child, suffering through a lonely marriage. She could be Happy! In fact, her screen name even made reference to that -- she was Happy_Girl. Ironically, one of the people she started talking to was Caroline. It was ironic because Caroline was married to a Navy man and lived five minutes from Michelle. After a month of talking on the phone, they met, and soon were best of friends.

    It was Caroline who convinced Michelle that there was more to life than her husband. It was Caroline who introduced her to her numerous male friends. It was Caroline who helped undress Michelle and then watched as three men had their way with her. And, it was Caroline, who taught Michelle the wonders of being with another woman. It was all a big, lurid fantasy for Michelle, like some scene out of a Cinemax late night movie. Caroline and Michelle jumped from bed to bed, sometimes together, other times not, and laughed about it the next day. Michael would fall asleep on whatever couch or chair was available that night, pretending he was oblivious to it all, but knowing something was wrong.

    When Caroline introduced Michelle to Alex, a guy she had met off the Internet but was only friends with, Michelle had no idea that she could feel so giddy and completely lost as she did with him. With Kenny, Michelle thought that he might have been a replacement for "Dad," that he had been there when she needed someone. Need was exactly how she viewed her marriage to Donnie. She needed to escape and he provided that for her. She needed someone to take care of her and Michael. He did that. Alex, though, was different. Michelle would lay up at night, dreaming of his boyish movie star like looks. His blue eyes were mesmerizing, and he had a cleft chin that she could run her fingertip over for hours. She loved to run her fingers through his thick blonde hair and memorized how he breathed in small huffs with an occasional deep breath when he slept. Michelle wondered what Alex saw in her, but Caroline insisted that Alex was being genuine. She could not stop thinking about him. Nor could she stop loving him. They began an affair, he was married as well, and would secretly sneak off to meet one another, even when Donnie was home.

    Michelle was twenty three when Donnie became eligible for shore duty, which meant he would be home every day. No more six month vacations from her marriage. Alex had divorced his wife a year ago and was pressuring Michelle to leave Donnie, but Michelle was hesitant. Even though he had lied to her, Donnie had been good to her when she needed it most and was wonderful with Michael. As much as she loved Alex, he was in school and didn't have a steady job. He wouldn't be able to provide for her or Michael for quite some time. Over and over she told Alex that she would leave Donnie, if and when he finished school and got a job -- a good job.

    It became harder and harder to find time to see Alex, who was beginning to show frustration with the whole situation. Donnie had started to get suspicious and was much more inquisitive about where Michelle was running off to, and going to Caroline's house had become taboo so she couldn't use that as an excuse any longer. Donnie couldn't stand Caroline and he made as much known to Michelle. The only time Alex and Michelle would see each other was when Michael was in school and Donnie was at work. Usually, she would go over to Alex's small apartment and spend a couple of hours with him before rushing off to pick Michael up from school.

    The weight of it all became too heavy for Michelle. She couldn't do it all. She couldn't pretend to love one man, love another, take care of her son and work a full-time job. She was twenty four going on fifty. Life was merely a process of waking up, breathing and pretending everything was alright. It wasn't though, and she knew it. It was two o'clock on a Saturday afternoon when she called Alex. Michael was taking a nap and Donnie was on duty until six. He answered the phone as he always did, with a loud "Wassup." Michelle could hear Pearl Jam playing in the background, Eddie Veder singing soulfully, "I know someday you'll have a beautiful life." Michelle didn't say anything at first, her mind was on the song and the words... "I know you'll be a star in somebody else's eyes."

    "Michelle, is that you?"

    Michelle snapped out of her trance. "Sh**, yea it's me babe, sorry. I was listening to that song."

    "I love that song," he said, his voice soft and lulling as the song finished playing. Michelle heard a click, and knew that Alex had stopped the tape. She could picture him lying there, on his small bed, wearing nothing but blue and white polka dot boxers as cinnamon incense burned on top of his dresser.

    "What's up hon?" he asked.

    "Can you come over now," Michelle answered. "We need to talk."

    "Yea," he said, a curious tone coming over him. "What's up?"

    "Just come here. OK?"

    "Sure, be right there," he said, as Michelle heard the other end disconnect.

    Michelle looked into Alex's eyes and tried to tell him it was over. She wanted to tell him that she had to be with Donnie, that it was the right thing to do for her son, and that she couldn't be with him anymore. But as she held his hands and stared into his icy, but kind, aquamarine eyes, she became lost again. She melted into him and their bodies connected like a magnet does to steel. He was moving slowly in and out of her, his fingers grazing the smooth outline of her face, his voice whispering into her ear "I love you. I love you," as she moaned softly, when the bedroom door opened.

    "What the f*** is going on here Michelle?" Michelle didn't need to see the face. It was Donnie.

    "Who the f*** is this?"

    Alex jumped up, and seeing something in Donnie's hands just as quickly got back into the bed. Michelle looked to see what had frightened Alex, and saw that Donnie was holding a rifle.

    "Yo man," Alex whispered, as he sat up with a pillow covering his lap. "Put that s*** down. No one needs to get hurt."

    "A little f***ing late for that, ain't it man?"

    "Donnie," Michelle cried, her hands reaching out for Donnie. "I'm sorry, Donnie. Put it down."

    Donnie pointed the gun at Alex and pulled the trigger, the blast echoing through the room. Alex's body slumped forward and his chest fell onto the pillow. Michelle screamed -- her mother's scream. The scream she used to hear when "Dad" beat her.



    "Oh My God No"

    Donnie calmly lifted the gun and started to point it at Michelle.

    "Mom? What's going on Mom?"

    "Michael, get out of here," Donnie ordered.

    Michael came into the room and noticed the shiftless body of Alex, the hysterics of his Mom, and the rifle that Donnie was pointing at her. Michael ran towards Michelle.

    "No, Michael," she pleaded. "Go."

    It was too late. Donnie had already pulled the trigger, and unknowingly Michael saved his mother's life. The bullet hit Michael in the side of the head as it came to rest on Michelle's lap. Michelle looked up at Donnie, her face not knowing what to do, her body frozen. She spat as she spoke.

    "Kill me."

    "Do it."

    Donnie put the barrel of the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger, leaving Michelle in a sky blue room painted with fresh red spots, a single queen size bed, a cheap K-mart dresser, and three boys. All dead.

    Michelle didn't cry. She pushed Michael off of her and stepped over Donnie's body. Wearing nothing but a pink terrycloth bathrobe, she walked out the door and moved zombie-like down the road. As was often the case in Washington, rain was coming down, hard and incessant. Michelle's body ached inside. Her heart, whatever was left of it, beat slowly, unsure of whether to go on. Pain ripped at her, and a single tear fell from her face. Michelle didn't care about the rain, or the wind beating down upon her. Cars zipped by, people looked. It didn't matter to her, nothing mattered anymore. She walked for what seemed like miles, her legs tired, yet she plodded on. She walked through dirt paths, broken glass and lonely alleys. Homeless people stared up at her, frowns on their faces, unhappy with their lives. Michelle wished she was them. She wished that she could have their pain instead of the pain she now felt.

    Michelle walked past the sign marked Deception Pass to the middle of the bridge. She stared out into the ocean and closed her eyes. She couldn't hear the pounding of the surf, nor the annoying caws of the seagulls.

    "Taste me you b****."

    "I gots to go."

    "It's only temporary."

    "Mom. What's going on Mom?"

    I know someday you'll have a beautiful life.

    The voices rang in her ear like a church bell on a Sunday morning in December. Michelle opened her eyes. There was "Dad" sitting on top of her, his weight pushing down on her stomach and his hard, steel knuckles meeting her soft flesh. Mom was crying on the couch, reaching her arms out. Kenny was waving good bye. Alex was kissing her. Donnie was pointing a gun at her, his gray eyes red with anger. Michael was running with her, to her. His head on her lap.

    No more games, Michelle said. I don't want to play this game anymore. Michelle climbed on top of the rail. She looked down at the rocks beneath her. She turned her head and looked at the road, the road that would lead her to some new place, to some new life. Maybe she could go find her dad. She wavered on the edge, unsure of which direction to go, not knowing whether it mattered.

    Would you like to play again?

    Michelle clicked the little gray button.
    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. #935
    Nerds Just Wanna Have Fun Boredom's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jun 2003
    Where Ricky Martin Can't Find Me
    Wow, Hazy. I am not worthy

    Anyways, I never get any feedback usually, but I might as well post part of my story...


    Chapter 2

    Fred pulled his car up. First Waciano Bank, he thought. His car slowly pulled up to its parking space, and Fred began to marvel at the building. Its tall, white walls were inviting, but also royal and important. The sounds of people were hearable outside, even though they were all contained in the building. However, the building still seemed serene and calm. It was, just about, the perfect place to work. Almost a bit too perfect, but he really didn’t care.
    Fred walked inside and took a moment to study the scene in front of him. The tellers were all busily taking care of business with the customers. All of the tellers were homogonous, adding a scary sense of conformity and consistency. However, after a first glance, one began to notice the differences in all of the tellers. All of them, though dressed similarly with a similar disposition, were all different. A man on the side had his hat tipped slightly to the left in a strange fashion. A woman right in front was wearing dark, purple lipstick that stood out for miles around. The teller on the right was an elderly woman, but it was obvious that she still had life in her, and was, in fact, more energetic than most of the younger tellers. You could distinguish the difference, though slight, in their approach to the different customers.
    “Welcome to First Waciano Ban-”
    “Here is your money. Thank you for choosing First Waciano-”
    “I hear you are a new customer. Now-”
    Fred took a moment to absorb this, and then proceeded to walked down the halls. The sounds of people were resonating throughout the hall. He knew most of them, and the ones he didn’t know, he didn’t want to know. He almost came to the room that he was going to.
    “Are you sure something-”
    “I want to make sure that everything here is still going. It is, isn’t-”
    If we’re missing a penny, then we can sue the hell out of whoever stole it, and they’re going-.”
    “Sure, sure, right. What was his name again?” Fred peeked through the door. Inside were three men, a woman, and a little boy. Two of the men were quite normal looking, and had a strange look on their faces. They were obviously paying attention to something important. The other man was very inattentive, and acted as though nothing was important. The first thing that Fred noticed about this man is that he was constantly holding one pencil in his hand. The man started to slouch in his chair, and every once in a while started to fall asleep. This was, of course, until he rested his forehead on his hands, and the pencil stuck him on his face. The man woke back up and then had the same process happen all over again. The woman was almost the exact opposite of the man. The woman, though very pretty, appeared to be very studious. She had a hat on and tended to grab it whenever she had a thought that was going through her brain. Then, she would grab out a pad of paper and write whatever it was necessary down. Fred studied this for a second, then listened to the conversation happening in the room.
    “Her. Don’t get it confused. It was Saia-lin Maidin. Girl’s got quite a history. Checked her- Hey! Fred, take a seat.” Fred, realizing that he had been spotted, timidly opened the door. “Have I introduced you?” The first man said, still intensely engrossed in what he was recently discussing.
    “I don’t think you have, Mr. Paoli.” Fred took a vacant seat next to the very inattentive person. Fred had never seen him before, and was sure that this person was an intern.
    “Well,” Mr. Paoli started out, and rubbed his near bald hair, grabbing strains from his comb-over and sorting them out, as to cover more of his head. “Of course, you know Mr. Paqer. Then, we have some new... interns, Mark and Susanne, to fill the space of our two recent co-workers that left us.” Mr Paoli became instantly uncomfortable when mentioning the two co-workers, as did Mr. Paqer. For a second, Mr. Paoli began to become focused on something else, other than the woman that was the earlier topic of discussion and the current discussion with Fred. The forlorn stare on his face began to become more intense, until he finally snapped out of it. “Oh yeah, that’s Ruiz Olai.” Mr. Paoli’s face began to brighten up more than usual. “He’s my little intern in training, or, as I like to call him, my little IIT. He’s from Japan, but he’s been here in America for a while. Say hi, Ruiz…?”
    Suddenly, all of Fred’s attention shifted to Ruiz. Ruiz was a young looking child, even though he was obviously around the age of 14 or fifteen. He was wearing baggy pants, and had a yellow hat that was slightly cocked to the side. He was slouched over in his chair, apparently oblivious to the conversation surrounding him, much like Mark. He appeared to be easily distracted. However, all of his attention became focused on Mr. Paoli when he mentioned his name. Ruiz slowly began to get upset. It started to aggravate him until he finally screamed.
    “Don’t treat me like a little kid, dad!” Ruiz stormed out of the room in a rush.
    “What’s up with-” Fred started to say. But, Ruiz put his head through a small crack in the door of the room. He was still a well-mannered child, though he did have his moments.
    “Sorry. Bathroom.” And with that, he was gone.

  6. #936
    Up Where They Belong SurvivorGirl's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2003
    San Francisco
    Everyone here is really talented!! I would post something, but the only art I can do is music.

  7. #937
    Fade to black
    Join Date
    Mar 2003
    Where is the first chapter bored? I'll be glad to give you feedback (tell me what kind you want, I have three... brutal honesty, brutal butt kissing or just plain nice).
    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. #938
    Nerds Just Wanna Have Fun Boredom's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jun 2003
    Where Ricky Martin Can't Find Me
    I'm waiting to get a really good feel for where I'm taking the story to write the first chapter, which is only about 1/4 of the size it should be... and brutally honest, please. I need something to get the creative juices flying.

  9. #939
    FORT Fogey Glitternerfball's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jun 2003
    Here's one I did of my baby doll, I'm very 'impressionable' (bad joke, I know)

    It's actually my favorite that I've done of my cat, deserving of her beauty and playfullness.

    Okay, I can't upload or anything, so here's the link


    hoepfully that will work for you
    Last edited by Glitternerfball; 03-13-2004 at 10:31 PM. Reason: To get a picture up!

  10. #940

    Share some art...

    I dunno what thread "art" would be categorized under... I'm still learning the rule book... anywayz... feel free to post some art... I'll start with some work by Gil Mayers...

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