The AgeAnalyzer thinks http://prince-of-a-thousand.blogspot.com/ is written by someone 51-65 years old.
Welllp. Nooot quite.
Contrastingly, it thought one of my roleplay blogs (which has an enormous amount of long text-based posts) was written by someone between 65 and 100 years old.
What is this.
What is my lifffeee.
All the world will be your enemy, Prince of a Thousand enemies. And when they catch you, they will kill you.
But first they must catch you; digger, listener, runner, Prince with the swift warning. Be cunning, and full of tricks, and your people will never be destroyed.
-Richard Adams, Watership Down.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Week Nine - Poem
Branches crowning skyline,
the skeleton hands grasping blue-eyed clouds,
standing beneath them on a grass penitentiary,
we walk, prisoners to the pine-air.
Bones scatter the dirt and debris of deer and elk,
the world a coyote's play-land and wandering,
while we skirt corners and run hard against the leaf-skins left behind.
We pause to the giant, lightning-struck oak and wait,
meandering eyes searching skyward,
we stand, in chains of blue and cloud-whisp.
They weep across our backs,
as we turn to wander home.
the skeleton hands grasping blue-eyed clouds,
standing beneath them on a grass penitentiary,
we walk, prisoners to the pine-air.
Bones scatter the dirt and debris of deer and elk,
the world a coyote's play-land and wandering,
while we skirt corners and run hard against the leaf-skins left behind.
We pause to the giant, lightning-struck oak and wait,
meandering eyes searching skyward,
we stand, in chains of blue and cloud-whisp.
They weep across our backs,
as we turn to wander home.
Late Week Nines - Part 3
Fifty things I'm proud of.
1. Opening my writing enough to be comfortable in it.
2. Attacking the sestina!
3. Surviving the divorce of my parents and not faltering into a false sense of depression or self entitlement from the endeavor.
4. Training my dog to hi-five me, even if it’s not accurate.
5. Saving and making it to Disneyland in 2011.
6. Being with Matt for four and a half years.
7. Shaving my head and growing it back to ¾ the previous length, at present.
8. My consistent GPA of 3.0+
9. I’ve written three short stories that are well enough to stand on their own.
10. I can cook.
11. Taking that life-drawing course, doing my best.
12. Learning more through the application of hard work and perseverance.
13. I have perhaps never read so many novels in my life at one sitting as I had in college, even in my own time, which is exciting.
14. Well, I do read a lot, so perhaps I have and perhaps this is a falsehood, but at least I’ve read new things.
15. Finding enough confidence in my ability to tackle/conquer what I had previously considered impossible.
16. Redefining impossible.
17. Who’s working on learning Spanish very, very slowly? This person!
18. Trying to plan a future. It’s a sketch but I’m working on it.
19. Being able to work with the inevitable and unforeseen. Things happen, keep moving.
20. Keeping moving even when I feel like the sky is falling.
21. I make a mean apple pie.
22. Alternatively, I make an amazing grilled cheese.
23. I can draw a person in five minutes, proportionally.
24. I have not succumbed to any personal illness of defeat.
25. I know when I can or cannot do things; But I press myself anyway. Some things are important.
26. I finally watched Psycho, among a whole host of other films that were on my to-do list.
27. My to-do list is getting shorter by the day, this is nice.
28. I’m not too bad at writing things, and for this I’m at least a little proud, and a little egotistical.
29. I don’t feel too bad about being prideful.
30. I don’t boast, however. One has to be humble.
31. I have opened my mind and read more ‘classic’ works of literature. It’s been interesting. A little stale in some areas, but interesting.
32. I have helped some of my dear friends through hard times. I am proud to be called their friends.
33. I have made new friends in areas into which I would not have previously ventured, and they are all incredibly dear to me.
34. I wrote some pretty nice poems. That was fun.
35. I was able to assist my mum over the summer in a variety of house projects.
36. I can overcome my fears, demons, or worries through discussion and writing, more-so than through hiding them away.
37. I’m in college; I can conquer the world, right?
38. Okay, not so much, but I’ve newfound confidence in myself nonetheless.
39. I have worked hard steadily all the time I’ve been here.
40. I’ve been to a couple of conventions in costume/character and they’ve each been a success!
41. I have better determined my political stance through my own research and learnings.
42. I do not need to be influenced by any one person or persons to make my own opinions, and to make them known.
43. I know that, when I see something I do not agree with, I can say so.
44. I have a voice of conviction, and I can use it.
45. I was in a small movie, and it was tons of fun.
46. I am, and will be, going places.
47. I have nearly completed this list, and have 50 things to be proud of.
48. I can see things from the points of views of others, and respect their knowledge and experience while comparing it to my own.
49. Furthermore, I understand and can discuss the importance in being able to do so.
50. I am happy, and there is no reason to feel otherwise.
51. My darling boyfriend, for all the work he has done, and the wonderful, amazing production he directed this past weekend.
1. Opening my writing enough to be comfortable in it.
2. Attacking the sestina!
3. Surviving the divorce of my parents and not faltering into a false sense of depression or self entitlement from the endeavor.
4. Training my dog to hi-five me, even if it’s not accurate.
5. Saving and making it to Disneyland in 2011.
6. Being with Matt for four and a half years.
7. Shaving my head and growing it back to ¾ the previous length, at present.
8. My consistent GPA of 3.0+
9. I’ve written three short stories that are well enough to stand on their own.
10. I can cook.
11. Taking that life-drawing course, doing my best.
12. Learning more through the application of hard work and perseverance.
13. I have perhaps never read so many novels in my life at one sitting as I had in college, even in my own time, which is exciting.
14. Well, I do read a lot, so perhaps I have and perhaps this is a falsehood, but at least I’ve read new things.
15. Finding enough confidence in my ability to tackle/conquer what I had previously considered impossible.
16. Redefining impossible.
17. Who’s working on learning Spanish very, very slowly? This person!
18. Trying to plan a future. It’s a sketch but I’m working on it.
19. Being able to work with the inevitable and unforeseen. Things happen, keep moving.
20. Keeping moving even when I feel like the sky is falling.
21. I make a mean apple pie.
22. Alternatively, I make an amazing grilled cheese.
23. I can draw a person in five minutes, proportionally.
24. I have not succumbed to any personal illness of defeat.
25. I know when I can or cannot do things; But I press myself anyway. Some things are important.
26. I finally watched Psycho, among a whole host of other films that were on my to-do list.
27. My to-do list is getting shorter by the day, this is nice.
28. I’m not too bad at writing things, and for this I’m at least a little proud, and a little egotistical.
29. I don’t feel too bad about being prideful.
30. I don’t boast, however. One has to be humble.
31. I have opened my mind and read more ‘classic’ works of literature. It’s been interesting. A little stale in some areas, but interesting.
32. I have helped some of my dear friends through hard times. I am proud to be called their friends.
33. I have made new friends in areas into which I would not have previously ventured, and they are all incredibly dear to me.
34. I wrote some pretty nice poems. That was fun.
35. I was able to assist my mum over the summer in a variety of house projects.
36. I can overcome my fears, demons, or worries through discussion and writing, more-so than through hiding them away.
37. I’m in college; I can conquer the world, right?
38. Okay, not so much, but I’ve newfound confidence in myself nonetheless.
39. I have worked hard steadily all the time I’ve been here.
40. I’ve been to a couple of conventions in costume/character and they’ve each been a success!
41. I have better determined my political stance through my own research and learnings.
42. I do not need to be influenced by any one person or persons to make my own opinions, and to make them known.
43. I know that, when I see something I do not agree with, I can say so.
44. I have a voice of conviction, and I can use it.
45. I was in a small movie, and it was tons of fun.
46. I am, and will be, going places.
47. I have nearly completed this list, and have 50 things to be proud of.
48. I can see things from the points of views of others, and respect their knowledge and experience while comparing it to my own.
49. Furthermore, I understand and can discuss the importance in being able to do so.
50. I am happy, and there is no reason to feel otherwise.
51. My darling boyfriend, for all the work he has done, and the wonderful, amazing production he directed this past weekend.
Week Nine - Follow that Cab Reply
It was thoroughly enjoyable. I could see the consternation and frustration on the authors face as he tried to follow, to track, to trace the lost things, and his wife, exasperated, explaining. The short, descriptive sentences and comparisons blossomed it more as a piece, a story to follow, than just a 'human interest' bit. There were things to follow, to be done, a daily routine, not just a scoop-and-grab-from-the-heroes bit with some side commentary.
There's no back-story, I guess, it just is as it happens and as it was thought. The first person, quaint nature of the narrator is humbling and honest- 'not for the first time' admits his faint pride in being able to accomplish things, a bias which would not show through in a mere 'interest' story.
There's no back-story, I guess, it just is as it happens and as it was thought. The first person, quaint nature of the narrator is humbling and honest- 'not for the first time' admits his faint pride in being able to accomplish things, a bias which would not show through in a mere 'interest' story.
Monday, October 24, 2011
What the Hell are Sandwich Bones? A clarification.
Okay, so, when you're six, grilled cheese sandwiches are the most delicious things on earth. (They still are, but that's another topic.)
But. For whatever reason, when you're six, eating the crust on any sandwich is like trading a precious level 81 charizard on Pokemon Red for a freaking level two magikarp: It is not DONE!
Unless you have a super creative dad, who cuts off the crust from your grilled cheese, informs you that it is the best part of a sandwich (which is an absolute fact, if you've cooked it correctly and make sure the crusts are all buttery and crispy), and calls them 'sandwich bones.'
It was never a bother to make more of them, since he usually just ate the sandwich bits when we were overzealous about the sandwich bone aspects, but it was just one of those little, weird things that stuck.
...I think I asked him to make me a grilled cheese for lunch last summer, and he still cut off the crusts.
They were, of course, super delicious.
But. For whatever reason, when you're six, eating the crust on any sandwich is like trading a precious level 81 charizard on Pokemon Red for a freaking level two magikarp: It is not DONE!
Unless you have a super creative dad, who cuts off the crust from your grilled cheese, informs you that it is the best part of a sandwich (which is an absolute fact, if you've cooked it correctly and make sure the crusts are all buttery and crispy), and calls them 'sandwich bones.'
It was never a bother to make more of them, since he usually just ate the sandwich bits when we were overzealous about the sandwich bone aspects, but it was just one of those little, weird things that stuck.
...I think I asked him to make me a grilled cheese for lunch last summer, and he still cut off the crusts.
They were, of course, super delicious.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
One of my Poems
A Sestina – Autumnal Regrets
Her forest littered with ghosts of leaves,
having no way to see or know
the pathways that, in sight, may
lead the wanderings from Spring to Fall,
she follows the ghostlines of dust-mote-beams of light
waiting for the light to hit her skin, and call forth the sun.
Blinded by the obscuring clouds who cover the sun,
she is aimless in the way she's taken her leave,
her steps resonate no noise, being light.
She stops to listen. No,
No noise of people, no sound for her fall,
and she struggles to stand, waiting for what may.
What, she wonders in half-murmer, may
follow the noise of a song unsung,
may carry the weight of those who fall,
may paint the trails of those who leave
no footstep or trace behind? Who is to know
what lies in the dark without a light?
"No, not a noise nor sound nor trill nor shadow nor ghost to light-
not a creature nor foul nor beast nor birdsong to carry! May
those who hear things as such in the forest know
what damns them as they step unheeded, no song
to carry the passage of those who leave!"
Ever-weep those ghosts who carry the fall.
And try as she might to outrun these spirits, she should fall
into piles of dust and worn time by the aching, dying grass, no light
to penetrate these perpetrated glooms, ghosts of trees among their own discarded leaves
with no reminder but faded color to call back to their time in May.
Body calloused and wracked with tremors of the touch of the son
of the winter, the herald of the dying-times, she can do nothing but know-
Know that the inevitable rebirth will wait until she is frozen, know
that for every trembling step she takes deeper into the fall
that warmth will only reach by the guiding hands of the Sun,
that not all that burns will bring a peaceful light,
that though her song will echo, there is no promise that they may
find any resonation among those that would cherish her, and leave.
To know these things, she carries the light of May,
waiting for the leave of the Autumn and the fall
of an unspoken echo, resounding her song.
Her forest littered with ghosts of leaves,
having no way to see or know
the pathways that, in sight, may
lead the wanderings from Spring to Fall,
she follows the ghostlines of dust-mote-beams of light
waiting for the light to hit her skin, and call forth the sun.
Blinded by the obscuring clouds who cover the sun,
she is aimless in the way she's taken her leave,
her steps resonate no noise, being light.
She stops to listen. No,
No noise of people, no sound for her fall,
and she struggles to stand, waiting for what may.
What, she wonders in half-murmer, may
follow the noise of a song unsung,
may carry the weight of those who fall,
may paint the trails of those who leave
no footstep or trace behind? Who is to know
what lies in the dark without a light?
"No, not a noise nor sound nor trill nor shadow nor ghost to light-
not a creature nor foul nor beast nor birdsong to carry! May
those who hear things as such in the forest know
what damns them as they step unheeded, no song
to carry the passage of those who leave!"
Ever-weep those ghosts who carry the fall.
And try as she might to outrun these spirits, she should fall
into piles of dust and worn time by the aching, dying grass, no light
to penetrate these perpetrated glooms, ghosts of trees among their own discarded leaves
with no reminder but faded color to call back to their time in May.
Body calloused and wracked with tremors of the touch of the son
of the winter, the herald of the dying-times, she can do nothing but know-
Know that the inevitable rebirth will wait until she is frozen, know
that for every trembling step she takes deeper into the fall
that warmth will only reach by the guiding hands of the Sun,
that not all that burns will bring a peaceful light,
that though her song will echo, there is no promise that they may
find any resonation among those that would cherish her, and leave.
To know these things, she carries the light of May,
waiting for the leave of the Autumn and the fall
of an unspoken echo, resounding her song.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
I cannot copy poem styles about food without getting hungry
I praise the sandwich bones for my father,
who leaned over the pan and inhaled the smoke
who taught slowly how to smell and feel
when something was ready, prepared
open for devouring, open for the teeth
to rend and tear and grind and devour
and to wash away with the cleansing and cold white
I praise the sandwich bones
because I see them sitting there and growing cold
separate and strange. Only ours.
The only way to make a clean plate
to wipe the world clean
I praise and loathe that cheese soup, the rum milk
the christmas nog and noise and voices through the kitchen
the hallow memories beset by snow and paper wrappers
by early morning and footprints in the white on the porch
by bells at dark midnight while we count stars in snowdrifs
I wonder where childhood took these things.
I praise the noise and bones of food and thought,
and spread them on the plate before me,
the white bleached and brown speckle crumbs
the cinnamon milk and then the cheese thick and spoon plastic
all over the kitchen
whispering that we were happy, right
that we were wide awake and waiting on edge
and the smells follow me
so, I linger and inhale
It is a childhood we will never have again,
the sandwich bones and warm kitchen,
as we sat on the edge of our chairs and counted
snowflakes and stars in flurry and wonder.
Sometimes I want to ask if he remembers these little things,
but I stay quiet;
Everything else had been forgotten-
We wipe the plates clean.
who leaned over the pan and inhaled the smoke
who taught slowly how to smell and feel
when something was ready, prepared
open for devouring, open for the teeth
to rend and tear and grind and devour
and to wash away with the cleansing and cold white
I praise the sandwich bones
because I see them sitting there and growing cold
separate and strange. Only ours.
The only way to make a clean plate
to wipe the world clean
I praise and loathe that cheese soup, the rum milk
the christmas nog and noise and voices through the kitchen
the hallow memories beset by snow and paper wrappers
by early morning and footprints in the white on the porch
by bells at dark midnight while we count stars in snowdrifs
I wonder where childhood took these things.
I praise the noise and bones of food and thought,
and spread them on the plate before me,
the white bleached and brown speckle crumbs
the cinnamon milk and then the cheese thick and spoon plastic
all over the kitchen
whispering that we were happy, right
that we were wide awake and waiting on edge
and the smells follow me
so, I linger and inhale
It is a childhood we will never have again,
the sandwich bones and warm kitchen,
as we sat on the edge of our chairs and counted
snowflakes and stars in flurry and wonder.
Sometimes I want to ask if he remembers these little things,
but I stay quiet;
Everything else had been forgotten-
We wipe the plates clean.
Week Eight 3
Er, honestly? Truthfully? I've been sticking too it about as much as a piece of paper sticks to a wall on it's own. It's been incredibly sporadic, and my motivation has been dwindlingly low all semester, and I'm not sure why. I am rather disappointed with myself, but I cannot truthfully find anything screaming at me to write recently- When I do, it feels more like work than something to enjoy, and it's like lying on a bed of nails some afternoons.
When I do want to write though, it's amazing- But that's been so little lately that the idea of forcing myself to sit down and work on things is just stressful. Sometimes a free-write helps, but it feels so damn constraining otherwise that every single little noise or distraction is like an absolute explosion in terms of distraction.
When I do want to write though, it's amazing- But that's been so little lately that the idea of forcing myself to sit down and work on things is just stressful. Sometimes a free-write helps, but it feels so damn constraining otherwise that every single little noise or distraction is like an absolute explosion in terms of distraction.
Blog Posts for Week Eight
1.Ruth Stone’s Winter I found exceptionally gorgeous and well written. The imagery was particularly evocative of a cold, particularly pressing series of memories. It was very tangible, real, human, and I think I appreciated it more than the others for the images it presented and the voice that carried it throughout. The theme is especially haunting, one of great loss and reflection on such, of remembering someone lost to one long ago.
Monday, October 10, 2011
I need to know,
In simple quiet terms from you,
From your voice and mouth and lips,
From your eyes when they are not so red,
Or perhaps from when you are not so tired as I am,
That I have not failed you.
There is a boulder of fear pressing between my shoulder blades
And every vertebrae aches with gravel and rock prying
Cracking them open into lean crevices while I wait knowing
That a strangers voice resounded louder than my own,
When I had sought to comfort, to love you so.
There is a fear there like animal hides on a long sharp fence
Fetid in hot summer and cold winters frozen
Sharp and musky, it bleeds into my skin,
The pigment tattoo ink echoing a lifetime of sorrys.
I cannot ask you now
Not tonight when the wounds are still fresh
When the muscle is still exposed
When the puss thickens still
I have to wait, wait, wait
Wait
For you to rise, my rock, from the sea-
Whatever tides come towards me I can bear them for the undertow
Just waiting quietly for the words to wash over
Fate to be sealed.
You have not spoken yet but I see your shoulders
Slumped and strange and heavy with burdens I don’t know how to approach
How to lift?
Do I treat them as ghosts walking down passageways?
Do I repell them as poltergeists?
Do I call them like lost loved ones so dear to me
Or do I let you carry them and gain strength?
I am afraid that when I step away you will not let me step back
I am afraid, that when I let you know even-eyed and quiet
That this is okay, this happens, we are all inevitably, fatefully and wretchedly human-
That you will shake your head
And prove me wrong.
In simple quiet terms from you,
From your voice and mouth and lips,
From your eyes when they are not so red,
Or perhaps from when you are not so tired as I am,
That I have not failed you.
There is a boulder of fear pressing between my shoulder blades
And every vertebrae aches with gravel and rock prying
Cracking them open into lean crevices while I wait knowing
That a strangers voice resounded louder than my own,
When I had sought to comfort, to love you so.
There is a fear there like animal hides on a long sharp fence
Fetid in hot summer and cold winters frozen
Sharp and musky, it bleeds into my skin,
The pigment tattoo ink echoing a lifetime of sorrys.
I cannot ask you now
Not tonight when the wounds are still fresh
When the muscle is still exposed
When the puss thickens still
I have to wait, wait, wait
Wait
For you to rise, my rock, from the sea-
Whatever tides come towards me I can bear them for the undertow
Just waiting quietly for the words to wash over
Fate to be sealed.
You have not spoken yet but I see your shoulders
Slumped and strange and heavy with burdens I don’t know how to approach
How to lift?
Do I treat them as ghosts walking down passageways?
Do I repell them as poltergeists?
Do I call them like lost loved ones so dear to me
Or do I let you carry them and gain strength?
I am afraid that when I step away you will not let me step back
I am afraid, that when I let you know even-eyed and quiet
That this is okay, this happens, we are all inevitably, fatefully and wretchedly human-
That you will shake your head
And prove me wrong.
I feel like I can hi-five the cosmos!
Honestly, though, I'm in such a spectacularly absurdly good mood that I had to share just about everywhere.
Posting some pretty awesome links for the week while I listen to stuff and sculpt this skeleton!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3cq3l0kVMhI&feature=BFa&list=AVGxdCwVVULXdFtyvm8lQV38t6J2AewVJK&lf=list_related
Song I can't stop listening too!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZCNYdHZpPH4
Disney Imagineers are awesome!
And that whole channel has some really neat stuff, yep. Go look at the universal halloween houses! Spookyfun!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/nightmaresfearfactory/
And a whole gallery of people being horrified by something in a haunted house. It's kind've hysterical.
RIGHT! Actual writing, actual work..Onwards!
Keep moving forward!
Posting some pretty awesome links for the week while I listen to stuff and sculpt this skeleton!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3cq3l0kVMhI&feature=BFa&list=AVGxdCwVVULXdFtyvm8lQV38t6J2AewVJK&lf=list_related
Song I can't stop listening too!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZCNYdHZpPH4
Disney Imagineers are awesome!
And that whole channel has some really neat stuff, yep. Go look at the universal halloween houses! Spookyfun!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/nightmaresfearfactory/
And a whole gallery of people being horrified by something in a haunted house. It's kind've hysterical.
RIGHT! Actual writing, actual work..Onwards!
Keep moving forward!
Saturday, October 8, 2011
2+3 Week 6
#2
a. My favorite childhood toy was . . .
A tie between a Mickey Mouse doll and a Big Bird puppet!
b. My favorite childhood game was . . .
"See if I can convince dad to read me this story even though it's scary and I won't sleep" or "Hide the books! HIDE THE BOOKS IT IS PAST BEDTIME!"
Alternatively, I loved hide and seek and a game my sister and I made up called "pound puppies" though I hardly remember the rules.
c. The best movie I ever saw as a kid was . . .
Monty Python's Holy Grail or the Princess Bride, or Anastasia, or Hunchback of Notre Dame, or The Little Mermaid. I was eclectic, but I think TLM may have been tops!
I named a cat Dinglehopper.
...I was not permitted to name pets after that.
d. I don’t do it much but I enjoy . . .
Sleeping in or writing drabbles or thinking of fanfic ideas, which is so nerdy. Haha!
e. If I could lighten up a little, I’d let myself . . .
Publish a lot more of my art or written work online, or do somethings outside of the box or outside my comfort zone.
f. If it weren’t too late, I’d . . .
Double major in Art/Illustration. :x
g. My favorite musical instrument is . . .
Larmonica! (..My friend Lar played the harmonica for a tiny while. It was fun. Deal with it.)
h. The amount of money I spend on treating myself to entertainment each month is . . .
About 20-30$ a month, if at all. I'm really stingy with myself and get a little more anxious over money than I probably should. Or shouldn't. I don't know.
i. If I weren’t so stingy with my artistic self, I’d buy him/her . . .
The Rapunzel doll from Disneyland with Pascal on her arm and the freckles that I really, really wanted. D: Kicking myself!
j. Taking time out for myself is . . .
Difficult to organize, but far too easy to really do sometimes. Huh.
#3
a. I am afraid that if I start dreaming . . .
I'll lose myself to all the wonderful ideas and daydreams and not be able to keep myself essentially grounded, and thus, set myself up for crushing disappointment, again.
b. I secretly enjoy reading . . .
Smut. What? We're being completely honest, and honestly? I think smut can be pretty fun. Or hysterical. Or just god-awful. It's a gambit of nonsense, and it amuses me.
c. If I had had a perfect childhood I’d have grown up to be . . .
A terribly, terribly boring person or something. I'd hardly have half the friends I do now or be the person I am, and I don't know if I'd like myself at all!
Alternatively, maybe I'd be an astronaut.. But I don't think I'd be a very happy one.
d. If it didn’t sound so crazy, I’d write or make a . . .
A lot of alarming stories and art, I'm sure, haha! I reign my muse in a lot more than I'd like too sometime, particularly when I'm in a bad mood. There are, naturally, some thoughts I don't vocalize- Because, you know, you just /don't/.
e. My parents think artists are . . .
My mother finds them very similar to herself and very relatable. She likes my art, though she makes fun of me occasionally, and I don't think my father much cares either way. It makes him smile sometimes, though, but I've never heard him talk about it without prompting. Once in a while he compliments me in front of his friends or aquantices and that's just.. Amazing. It's like finding a golden ring in a room full of bottlecaps.
f. My God thinks artists are . . .
Er- Historically, He didn't care for them much, with the banning of iconography and all, and though I hardly think I can speak for a being of such..God..liness, because it's a little unnerving to do so in any context, I suppose he'd be... Pleased.
I'd hope.
g. What makes me feel weird about this creative writing class is . . .
Exposing myself and my thoughts. Oh look, everything's out here! And everyone knows what a strange person I am. And my, aren't I certainly strange indeed. It exposes my (now poorly) concealed paranoia and worry and all these sides to myself I don't really tend to exhibit except in words.
h. Learning to trust myself is probably . . .
A good idea.
i. My most cheer-me-up music is . . .
Mary Poppins, the Musical: Anything Can Happen.
j. My favorite way to dress is . . .
Honestly? I love, love costuming and cosplaying, and dresses and skirts!
a. My favorite childhood toy was . . .
A tie between a Mickey Mouse doll and a Big Bird puppet!
b. My favorite childhood game was . . .
"See if I can convince dad to read me this story even though it's scary and I won't sleep" or "Hide the books! HIDE THE BOOKS IT IS PAST BEDTIME!"
Alternatively, I loved hide and seek and a game my sister and I made up called "pound puppies" though I hardly remember the rules.
c. The best movie I ever saw as a kid was . . .
Monty Python's Holy Grail or the Princess Bride, or Anastasia, or Hunchback of Notre Dame, or The Little Mermaid. I was eclectic, but I think TLM may have been tops!
I named a cat Dinglehopper.
...I was not permitted to name pets after that.
d. I don’t do it much but I enjoy . . .
Sleeping in or writing drabbles or thinking of fanfic ideas, which is so nerdy. Haha!
e. If I could lighten up a little, I’d let myself . . .
Publish a lot more of my art or written work online, or do somethings outside of the box or outside my comfort zone.
f. If it weren’t too late, I’d . . .
Double major in Art/Illustration. :x
g. My favorite musical instrument is . . .
Larmonica! (..My friend Lar played the harmonica for a tiny while. It was fun. Deal with it.)
h. The amount of money I spend on treating myself to entertainment each month is . . .
About 20-30$ a month, if at all. I'm really stingy with myself and get a little more anxious over money than I probably should. Or shouldn't. I don't know.
i. If I weren’t so stingy with my artistic self, I’d buy him/her . . .
The Rapunzel doll from Disneyland with Pascal on her arm and the freckles that I really, really wanted. D: Kicking myself!
j. Taking time out for myself is . . .
Difficult to organize, but far too easy to really do sometimes. Huh.
#3
a. I am afraid that if I start dreaming . . .
I'll lose myself to all the wonderful ideas and daydreams and not be able to keep myself essentially grounded, and thus, set myself up for crushing disappointment, again.
b. I secretly enjoy reading . . .
Smut. What? We're being completely honest, and honestly? I think smut can be pretty fun. Or hysterical. Or just god-awful. It's a gambit of nonsense, and it amuses me.
c. If I had had a perfect childhood I’d have grown up to be . . .
A terribly, terribly boring person or something. I'd hardly have half the friends I do now or be the person I am, and I don't know if I'd like myself at all!
Alternatively, maybe I'd be an astronaut.. But I don't think I'd be a very happy one.
d. If it didn’t sound so crazy, I’d write or make a . . .
A lot of alarming stories and art, I'm sure, haha! I reign my muse in a lot more than I'd like too sometime, particularly when I'm in a bad mood. There are, naturally, some thoughts I don't vocalize- Because, you know, you just /don't/.
e. My parents think artists are . . .
My mother finds them very similar to herself and very relatable. She likes my art, though she makes fun of me occasionally, and I don't think my father much cares either way. It makes him smile sometimes, though, but I've never heard him talk about it without prompting. Once in a while he compliments me in front of his friends or aquantices and that's just.. Amazing. It's like finding a golden ring in a room full of bottlecaps.
f. My God thinks artists are . . .
Er- Historically, He didn't care for them much, with the banning of iconography and all, and though I hardly think I can speak for a being of such..God..liness, because it's a little unnerving to do so in any context, I suppose he'd be... Pleased.
I'd hope.
g. What makes me feel weird about this creative writing class is . . .
Exposing myself and my thoughts. Oh look, everything's out here! And everyone knows what a strange person I am. And my, aren't I certainly strange indeed. It exposes my (now poorly) concealed paranoia and worry and all these sides to myself I don't really tend to exhibit except in words.
h. Learning to trust myself is probably . . .
A good idea.
i. My most cheer-me-up music is . . .
Mary Poppins, the Musical: Anything Can Happen.
j. My favorite way to dress is . . .
Honestly? I love, love costuming and cosplaying, and dresses and skirts!
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Week Six, Entry 1 - Spontanious Erruptions!
a. List five hobbies that sound fun.
Jumproping, muffin making, hula dancing, balloon folding, fiddley-deeing!
(Commentary: Wh-..What. The first few I understand, but I wrote 'balloon folding!' and..Does that mean balloon animals? What is going on. I think I had too much soda.)
b. List five classes that sound fun.
1. Introduction to upholstery
2. Creative Writing: Horror Edition
3. Pastries!
4. Animation
5. Fashion design.
(Commentary: ...Why did I write about upholstery? I shouldn't be allowed to write streams of consciousness. That class sounds horrifying. I'd prefer stuffed animal making or something.)
c. List five things you personally would never do that sound fun.
1. Build a carousel
2. Bungee Jump
3. Model nude.
4. Roof jumping.
5. Competitive Roller Derby Deathmatch!
(Commentary: I was reading about Disneyland and how Walt wanted hand-carved-and-painted carousel horses. And I really do love carousels! They're so neat!)
d. List five things you used to enjoy doing.
1. Swimming
2. Walking
3. Staying up until four am talking.
4. Playing tag. Aw. :c
5. Smelling different types of teas.
(Commentary: ...I'm/was really weird. No one is surprised.)
e. List five silly things you would like to try once.
1. Bronycon with full cosplay.
2. Clowning!
3. Spontaneous musical performances!
4. Facepainting
5. Charicature studies for crowds of people!
(Commentary: Should probably say "things I'd rather enjoy doing at some point" rather than "silly things..")
Jumproping, muffin making, hula dancing, balloon folding, fiddley-deeing!
(Commentary: Wh-..What. The first few I understand, but I wrote 'balloon folding!' and..Does that mean balloon animals? What is going on. I think I had too much soda.)
b. List five classes that sound fun.
1. Introduction to upholstery
2. Creative Writing: Horror Edition
3. Pastries!
4. Animation
5. Fashion design.
(Commentary: ...Why did I write about upholstery? I shouldn't be allowed to write streams of consciousness. That class sounds horrifying. I'd prefer stuffed animal making or something.)
c. List five things you personally would never do that sound fun.
1. Build a carousel
2. Bungee Jump
3. Model nude.
4. Roof jumping.
5. Competitive Roller Derby Deathmatch!
(Commentary: I was reading about Disneyland and how Walt wanted hand-carved-and-painted carousel horses. And I really do love carousels! They're so neat!)
d. List five things you used to enjoy doing.
1. Swimming
2. Walking
3. Staying up until four am talking.
4. Playing tag. Aw. :c
5. Smelling different types of teas.
(Commentary: ...I'm/was really weird. No one is surprised.)
e. List five silly things you would like to try once.
1. Bronycon with full cosplay.
2. Clowning!
3. Spontaneous musical performances!
4. Facepainting
5. Charicature studies for crowds of people!
(Commentary: Should probably say "things I'd rather enjoy doing at some point" rather than "silly things..")
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Now, I'm not sure how everyone else approaches writing...
But this looks about as accurate a description as any I can give for how I do so:
Monday, October 3, 2011
Here, have some music:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7trpC65AmYY
Just.. A reminder, I suppose.
Whenever I feel shitty or tired or upset or frustrated or feel like I'm not getting anywhere, there's this.
And then I feel like there's something out there for me. And I'll find it.
(Skip to 0:45 if you haven't seen Princess and the Frog, or just watch it the whole way through.
I'm a bit of a Disney nut, so..Bear with me.)
Just.. A reminder, I suppose.
Whenever I feel shitty or tired or upset or frustrated or feel like I'm not getting anywhere, there's this.
And then I feel like there's something out there for me. And I'll find it.
(Skip to 0:45 if you haven't seen Princess and the Frog, or just watch it the whole way through.
I'm a bit of a Disney nut, so..Bear with me.)
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Blog Entry 2 Week 5 - @abigaillawrence
Hey there, reading your character Bio. Hope you don't mind some notes, eh?
-First was struck about the 'comic book thing'. It occurs to be I probably know Brian's girlfriend if she's going to comic things. This is interesting.
-I love the phrase 'nuclear family'. Not sure why, it always seemed like an eerie good fit for people. Also: Neon green. Don't mind me, I think in colors.
-The children's theater; The coterie?
-Archibald is the best cat name.
-Oh, jeeze, I'm pretty sure I know Brian and Molly. These are my people. Or they would have been.
-I sort've need to know what happened at Halloween and how it affected him. I'm horribly curious.
-First was struck about the 'comic book thing'. It occurs to be I probably know Brian's girlfriend if she's going to comic things. This is interesting.
-I love the phrase 'nuclear family'. Not sure why, it always seemed like an eerie good fit for people. Also: Neon green. Don't mind me, I think in colors.
-The children's theater; The coterie?
-Archibald is the best cat name.
-Oh, jeeze, I'm pretty sure I know Brian and Molly. These are my people. Or they would have been.
-I sort've need to know what happened at Halloween and how it affected him. I'm horribly curious.
Blog Entry 3 Week 5 - Trees
The trees are a crown on the skyline. Skeletons standing. We walk like prisoners do and listen, the leaves are all underfoot, and the dirt is on our shoes. We skirt corners of cliffs and hazard over rocks and bones in the dirt. Sometimes by bones are chewtoys, left by Coyote-theifs. The woods say nothing and we pass the tree that had been lightning-struck more than once as we go around. Clouds rumble, it starts to rain. We return home.
Blog Entry 3 Week 5
Were I to move to a foreign country, I suspect I'd be able to integrate, or try to do so as much as possible, without offending my host country. I know what I am and am not privileged to accept, and I would prefer to learn the boundary lines of acceptable cultural appropriation before I attempted to take anything into it's own stride. I don't think I could stand to be the obnoxious American who was trying to be just like..Everyone else. I don't know; I'd share I suspect some of my own heritage insomuch as I tried to revel in theirs.
It's an odd question to ponder since, frankly, it seems like a very remote possibility, but if I had to /move/ there, to /live/ there, I'd try to adapt as best I could in regard to my own moral beliefs and political views. Naturally, I won't get along well in plenty of places, I'm sure, but if that means retaining some of my own sense of self preservation and being I suspect it'd be a far cry nicer than dropping what I believe is right for another person, even if that 'person' is a country.
It's an odd question to ponder since, frankly, it seems like a very remote possibility, but if I had to /move/ there, to /live/ there, I'd try to adapt as best I could in regard to my own moral beliefs and political views. Naturally, I won't get along well in plenty of places, I'm sure, but if that means retaining some of my own sense of self preservation and being I suspect it'd be a far cry nicer than dropping what I believe is right for another person, even if that 'person' is a country.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)