Thursday, August 25, 2011

Take a walk - Write on Wednesday

    We entered the garden with insect repellent on hand, ready to spray ourselves again if the first go proved ineffective. It had taken all of five minutes to convince my sister to leave the group gathered around the fire roasting corn, but here we were at last. The dirt path we were treading on was rough and uneven. I could feel each rock through my Converse. I drank everything in, wishing I had thought to bring a camera to photograph each flower I spotted. Amid the peppers and tomatoes, the yellow beauties looked like treasures that had somehow gotten mixed up in a heap of dirt.
    Up ahead I saw my mother analyzing the corn rows carefully, stopping to pick the golden ears that were ready to be harvested. A feeling of complete freedom settled deep inside of me as I watched the clouds float through the purple sky, the smoke swirling towards the heavens, and the green of the leaves that meant life was coursing through each plant. I thought about where I was two years ago with each step. How caged I had felt to nothing but my own imagination. Out here on this path that my aunt crossed everyday to lovingly tend to her vegetables, I realized how free I was. Free to breathe knowing that only my actions mattered in the end, as it was the face in the mirror I would have to face everyday and not other people.
    We reached the end of the path, where the corn and the pine trees meet forming a seemingly endless forest, and I realized I'm on the path I want to be.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you

-_-' Please ignore the silly look on Josh's face. This beautiful song is one that I can listen to over and over again. It got me interested in the work of Vincent Van Gogh, so when my English teacher assigned us a creative paper to write I naturally thought of him and his masterpiece Starry Night. The following is a fiction piece of what I imagine was going through his mind at the time he painted one of his most celebrated paintings. Note that I specifically mentioned it was fiction. This work is not entirely accurate historically.

    A soft breeze stirred the trees outside, but Vincent couldn't see it happen. The room he had been placed in had only a small window far above his head. Sometimes, he would stand on his bed and try to capture as much beauty as the view could afford but not tonight. Tonight felt urgent, as if the time he had on Earth was coming to an end. He had an important task to finish. Vincent paused to examine the work in progress. In his mind he could still clearly see that starry night long ago. He closed his eyes to drink the memory in completely.
    It was a summer night, and although Vincent could have gone on painting forever, the beauty beyond his window beckoned. As he walked, he smiled to himself. The town was perfect. Already he had painted the various people he had observed carrying out their daily tasks.
    The path he was on led to the woods, but Vincent stopped at the top of a hill situated on the outskirts of town. His painter's eyes took in the scenery, starting with the glittering stars. They looked  as if someone had meticulously glued each sparkle onto the midnight garment of the heavens. Slowly, his eyes wandered towards the simple town below him. The lights in the windows cheerfully battled the darkenss surrounding them. He smiled again. Truly, the town was perfect.

    Vincent forced himself out of his reverie. He had been happy then, but the image before him reflected none of that. Instead, all of his pain was evident. The turmoil in his soul was clearly seen in the ominous swirling of the starry sky. Vincent painted faster and faster. Perhaps the despair would find relief once it was all on the canvas. When the time came, the painting would serve as a parting gift to his only comfort, Theo.
    As the final star was painted, Vincent dared to breathe. The time was coming, and he knew what he had to do. Theo would understand. Surely to die for love was a good way to exit this cruel world.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Piqued - Write on Wednesday

    The world was silent as Allison searched for it. A minute ago she had been stargazing in an open field, but now she was chasing it down. The thing, whatever it was, awoke a memory lost in the corner of mind. The scent had drifted by her on the midnight breeze and piqued her interest. It carried blurry images from her childhood. Goosebumps formed on her arms as the thought of what the memory would hold arose. What if she didn't want to remember? There must be a reason why she forgot in the first place. Her bare feet made no sound as Allison drew nearer to the object of her curiosity. It was there, she knew it. She felt it, moreover the perfume seemed to fill her completely.

Friday, August 12, 2011


Hay algo en una pagina
Sin letras que la manchen
Que me recuerda de la inocencia
Que aun no ha conocido
La tristeza ni el temor

Me vuelve a ese tiempo
Cuando todavia podia ver el mar
Sin sentir que me perdia
Y aun no sabia
De tal cosa como el dolor

Pero empiezo a escribir
Y veo que no todo es malo
No, todavia se puede hacer el bien
Y desechar a la immundicia
Todavia existe el milagro del amor

My second attempt at a poem in Spanish :). I hope it's all spelled right and is grammatically correct.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Think with character - Write on Wednesday

    Danny stood before the laundry room debating. He longed to see the rabbit his father had rescued, but his small conscience reminded him of his mother's order not to enter the room she had secured the animal in.
    "Mother is busy baking a cake. She will never know." whispered a voice deep inside.
    But still, something that ran deeper suspended his chubby hand as he reached for the knob. His light brown hair fell in his eyes as the argument inside made him frown. Mother and father would be hurt. They always were at his disobedience. Still, the furry creature with the white tail and curious eyes waited on the other side.
    The lip biting came next. The process of making that terrible decision never reached the sweating stage however, as Danny's mother came around the corner in that moment and found him with his hand on the doorknob.

Ah! Three minutes too late to link this up. Of course I am devastated but I'll post this anyway. Felt a little silly writing about a child on the brink of naughtiness but that's what came this week.
Sorry I didn't get to comment on everyone's posts from last week. I know it's a lousy excuse but I've been busy with the start of the school year.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

The clock winked...Write on Wednesday

    Madison was tired of running. The city stretched before her endless and overcrowded. The rush of strange faces stifled her, but she couldn't take another step. Yet she knew she couldn't stop now. If she did she felt her soul would die, so she kept walking. Madison walked on and on without paying attention to her surroundings; her eyes refused to be blinded by the city lights. The pink flats she was wearing pinched her feet, but on she went until finally, she reached a wooded area.
    Pausing to breathe in the liberty she felt here, Madison closed her eyes and let herself go. Finally, here was a place where she could think. A place away from the constant buzz of the city life. Giant trees towered above her head putting the man-made skyscrapers she was accustomed to to shame. She wished she could stay here forever, and like an old friend doing her a favor, the clock winked.

Turmoil again! This prompt was a little harder to work with, so hopefully you all enjoy it and find it worth reading.

Monday, August 1, 2011

Fool's Paradise

image courtesy of weheartit

Will you wait for me?
I wonder if I
am destined to walk these streets
with nothing but the moon for company.
I breathe in and out
searching the air for traces of you.
I see your shadow on the ground
next to mine.
As my fingers reach for yours,
I realize
I am only dreaming