From the One-Minute Writer:
Write a brief bit of fiction using the prompt “Bright.”
There sits little Lucy Bright
Plays alone amongst the blight
She hums a tune
As we all swoon
Embraced in the silence of endless night.
Archive for the ‘Artwork’ Category
One-Minute Writer: Bright
24
Jul
Will You Remember Me?
18
Jul
From the Imagination Prompt Generator:
What do you want to be remembered for?
My stories first, my artwork second, my photographs third. I want to be thought well of NOW before I toddle off Beyond the Veil since it would be a bummer if the only good thoughts came at my funeral. That is, if anyone shows up.
I have told people before that I am a Storyteller. I don’t think that most people realize that a storyteller isn’t someone working to get published. By definition, certainly I am author, so I won’t discount that.
au·thor
? ?/????r/ Show Spelled[aw-ther]
–noun
1. a person who writes a novel, poem, essay, etc.; the composer of a literary work, as distinguished from a compiler, translator, editor, or copyist.
However, a Storyteller is someone who does more than just write a story and hopes that others will read it, or buy it, etc. A Storyteller has an audience and tells them a story. I write fanfiction because I know there is an audience out there that not only wants to read it, but they want someone to tell them a story.
When I was a kid, I love Winnie the Pooh and Mowgli and his friends. My mother would read the stories to me because she was a Storyteller.
It’s a bit different being online and telling a story, and for awhile I felt a bit lost, and certainly frustrated. When I got over the fact that I couldn’t “see” the people I was telling a story to, I fell back into myself, into my comfort zone.
So, I hope there’s a corner of the internet that will remember me as a good Storyteller.
I hope, too, that I get remembered for my artwork. I know there are people in the past that remember some of the “on paper” art I used to do. I doubt they know my name, but my artwork is out there and there are those that remember it. My art affected them.
I haven’t picked up a pen in ages and taken it to paper, but I do still let my imagination go digital in this digital age. It isn’t the same, but I certainly wouldn’t be doing my digital abstracts if I didn’t feel I was putting my emotions into them and they were touching people viscerally.
I hope that enough of my artwork is now out there, that people will find it and think it’s something to talk about. If they don’t know who I am, my name, that’s all right.
And, ditto for my photos. I hope that I leave a lot of photos for people to appreciate. Mostly dogs, cats, gardens, trees, and flowers. Very few people. I hope that what I have gives everyone a bit of peace.
The Littlest Explorer
04
Jul
Tissoe was two days old! And, his mother had let him go outside to explore all on his own. Not one of his many brothers and sisters to bother him, he had the entire, great wilderness that was the outdoors, all to himself.
He wasn’t too good at flying. Not at first, anyway. He bumped into something the had wonderful smelling, white blossoms that spilled pretty yellow powder all over him.
If he could giggle, he would have.
His wings all a-buzz again, he careened slightly downwards, caught an updraft that carried him over a wonderful patch of grass blades that tried to stab him, and maybe, well, just possibly, he did laugh as he caught a wonderful updraft that carried him away from the blades of green. He buzzed past a blur of yellow and black stripes hearing a rumbly tumble of words cautioning him to be a careful youngster.
Tissoe tried laughing again. The breeze helped and up he went and breathlessly landed on the flat perch of a yarrow pad. He wiggled his proboscis in irritation and felt a different sort of laugh, this one kind of itchy and involuntary slip through his proboscis and widening the many facets of his eyes. He felt dizzy.
And another one was coming.
Blaming the yarrow, he dropped off the wide pad and down to some colourful, and relaxing sweet william.
Oh! These were lovely! This time when he giggled, it was at his own behest.
Tissoe walked all over the sweet william allowing his sticky little feet to remember it. He wanted to come back before he was old (in about 24 days) and experience it again. There were more flowers, and leaves, and rose bushes, and even strawberries to check out.
Tissoe took off again catching little updrafts and alighting here and there. He kept bumping into the big bumble bees, and although they were gruff, they pretty much ignored him. He explored the rose bush, his tiny little body unconcerned by the thorns which were much bigger than him.
On a red carnation he delighted in finding little drops of cool water that were perfect for just helping to keep him cool. Finally, he landed on a long, green leaf where he walked, flexed his little wings, and decided to spend the rest of the day.
Don’t you just think this little fly is cute, now? I hope you enjoyed my little whimsy.
