Let me preface this by saying that I HATE HEMINGWAY. Bleh. Ok, so anyway, my Creative Writing teacher assigned us to writing, you guessed it, a Hemingway-type vignette. So I did, and this is what I got. Enjoy (or not). Oh and it looks really long but it's actually only 3 pages (double spaced) aaaand most of it is dialogue so it goes pretty fast.

On the Curb

The city was loud and busy. The sun shone bright on the ground but the air was crisp. Winter had begun a little early that year. Cabs rushed by, honking their horns but the people walking by hardly noticed them. A man waited patiently for the bus to arrive. He looked as though his mind was elsewhere. At the same time, a woman of about the same age, dressed in business clothes and high heels searched her purse for some much-needed object. She was in a hurry and moments later found herself ramming head-first into the man and then falling to the ground. Dazed, she began to attempt to compose herself.

“I’m so sorry,” said the woman. She was frantically grabbing at her scattered objects.

The man only stared in disbelief.

“I was just in a hurry, I’m late for work and I have a meeting and my boss is already on my case for being late too often and-”

“Renee?” he blurted out.

The woman looked up at the man, searching his face for something recognizable. He was tall, and handsome. His hair was a dirty gold color and his eyes were bluer than the berries in her mother’s garden. Only one person she’d ever known had eyes like that.

“Graham? Graham! What are you…?”

“I’m waiting for the bus. Wh-What about you?”

“I’m late… again. Happens a lot, but of course you’d know that.”

“Yeah, I would,” he replied, trying to decide whether or not he should look her in the eyes. “Well, you look…nice.”

“Thanks, Graham. You look nice too. What are you doing these days? Still trying to become a rock star?”

“You know me. I’ve got music in my blood, only now it’s folk, not rock. How’s…?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I haven’t seen him in two years at least. He turned out to be a bum. You have no idea what it’s like to be treated so badly by someone you care so much about,” she said, wincing at the words toward the end of her sentence.

“You’re probably right, I have no idea. I’m sorry to hear that, though.”

The woman knew she had already managed to retrieve the last of her dropped possessions, but she still searched the ground.

“So, Renee, you should probably be getting to work, right?”

“It’s not that important.”

“But what about your boss?”

“Oh, he’ll live,” she said. “Where are you headed?”

“Well this musician thing isn’t quite paying off… yet. So I have a day job at FedEx. It pays decently enough and the hours still give me time to play gigs, as long as I don’t get stuck with a late delivery.”

“You take the bus?”

“Yeah. I could afford a car, I guess, but why waste the money when the bus is right here?” he asked. The woman eyed the keys hidden within her still open purse. “You should try it sometime. The people you meet can be pretty interesting.”

“Maybe I will have to try it sometime, perhaps on a day when I’m not so scattered. You’re lucky you aren’t as clumsy as me. I drop things all the time, usually on my toes, or worse yet, other people’s,” she said, amused at the thought.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “You’re not the only person in the world who lets things slip from your hands.”

“I guess not. But I have a knack for causing problems.”

“What?” he asked.

“What I mean is that I’m unlucky. Mistakes seem to follow me around. I prefer the unavoidable ones like purse explosions, but… well, you know. The avoidable ones prefer me.”

The man looked at her, running a hand through his dirty gold hair. He shrugged.

“So now I’m running really late and I still think I missed something on the ground and I could really use some coffee so maybe I will just call in sick,” she said frantically.

“Maybe you will.”

“And then… maybe you’ll call in sick, too?” Her eyes searched but could not find his.

“Why should I call in sick?”

“Because then we could get some coffee. Catch up.”

“Funny that you said ‘catch.’ Appropriate,” he said, still without looking at her.

“So…?” She asked.

The bus arrived at the stop and its doors popped open. The man took a step forward and looked back. “You got a pen in that purse?”

“Yeah,” she replied, and began to dig. “Oh, I guess not.”

“Well then, I guess I’d better be off,” he said, and stepped onto the bus, just before the doors closed.

The bus drove away. The woman stood in silence, watching after it. A few yards away, a black pen rolled down the curb and into the gutter.

My most recent Creative Writing assignment was to write a short story that was 2-5 pages long (double-spaced). I actually worked to make this story very short, as I tend to write longer short stories. Here is what I came up with. Enjoy! ^_^ (Please note that this may be edited in the future, so don't be too hard on me! Heehee.)

Oh, and it might also be good to check out this link, but do it AFTER you read so you don't ruin the ending. It's just something we talked about in my class and it sort of became the basis of my story. But again, read it AFTER you read this story. CLICK HERE

p.s. Sorry the paragraphs aren't indented... I'm having trouble formatting on the blog (as usual), so please bear with me! Aaaand yes, the title is grammatically FINE. It is sometimes correct to say "person and me" instead of "person and I," depending on what you say next... but since it's a title/fragment, I thought it better to say "me." That is all.

My Darling and Me

My darling and I had been on the run for years. We’d seen and done it all- pick-pocketing, bank robberies, even snatching all the coins from the “Take a Penny, Leave a Penny” trays. We were professionals, and we were unstoppable… That is, until my darling, one day, decided that he wanted us to go straight. Of course, he took it back hours later, but things were never quite the same after that.

We had been planning the perfect heist for some time. We had even pulled it off without alerting the police, but my darling had slipped up somewhere. Maybe he tried to pawn too many jewels, or maybe he had given our… benefactors… a little glimpse of his face. He told me it was an accident, and of course I believed him, but when I heard the announcement on the train, I began to feel it all start to crumble to bits.

“Attention, passengers. Please remain calm. Two detectives are on board and will be checking the belongings of every passenger on this train. As your conductor, I assure you that they are here for your safety and well-being, so please cooperate with them and enjoy the rest of your ride.”

My darling’s conscience had somehow done us in.

We sprang into action immediately. We never took too much on board with us in case of an emergency such as this, but even so, we couldn’t be too careful. Out the window, I threw the pearls we’d stolen from that woman in New York, my newly bought leather gloves, and the pair of diamond earrings meant for my mother. My darling emptied his pockets, and what I saw horrified me: jewels, money, and even someone’s gold watch. He had failed to hide it away in a safety deposit box. He had neglected to auction off anything that could be considered incriminating evidence. He had even forgotten to put our new bills into our Swiss bank account to be used at a (much) later date… But one item that my darling produced shined with the hope that I may end up alright in the end.

Without taking the time to develop my plan, I took my darling’s pistol and ended his ability to ruin me with his guilt and confessions. I could hear the detectives come running, so I started the waterworks.

“What happened, here?” they demanded.

“Oh, thank God you’re here! This man… he stole all of this from me, and I tried to fight him and then… then this gun, I think it belongs… belonged… to him, it was in my hands and… What have I done?” I asked with a heave. “I’m so sorry, I was just so frightened…”

Believing that my story was foolproof, I turned with a weak sigh to one of the detectives for a look of comfort or words of reassurance that any woman in my supposed position would have grasped at, only to feel the cool of metal rings wrap around my wrists.

“Nice try, but we already know who you are, Mrs. Deloni. We’ve been following you and your husband for weeks, and finally had enough evidence for an arrest when we got on this train. Would have had you back at the train station but you tricksters were too tough to locate. You’ll be riding the rest of this trip with us, ma’am.”

And that was that. They took me to the police station after the train ride was over. They were real gentlemen-gave me dinner and some time to myself, even. Later that night, they questioned me about it all. They asked about Mr. Deloni, the robberies, and of course, that fateful train ride. I couldn’t explain to them what they wanted to know, so they left me alone again. They just didn’t understand. Sometimes, you just have to murder your darlings.

Original and revised

It's been forever since I've posted something, eh? Well, I am now going to post something. So yay!

I had to write a poem for my Creative Writing class that brought two things "into conversation" that normally aren't. What my teacher meant by that was to somehow put together two images that seem unrelated or just different. Later on, we had to choose a piece to revise for a portfolio. This "conversation" piece was the hardest one for me, so I figured it could also probably use the most revision. I'll post both (original, then revised) here for you to see. (Oh yeah, for the revised one, the two stanzas are supposed to be side by side but I don't know how to make columns on this blog, so I'll just post one to the left and one to the right and let you try to picture it, lol). I definitely like the revised one a lot more, and I believe my teacher will agree. Without further ado, the pieces!

ORIGINAL:

The Calm after the Storm after the Storm

You sit together,
Tiny blue circles fall
Faces burning red hot
One by one, hitting everything
With blame and anger,
With all their might.
But most of all, regret;
They cover over all
Every muscle aching with
Washing away the dirt,
Echoes of “I’m sorry,”
Washing away the pain,
As the flames fade away.
Washing away every blemish of this earth,
Without a word,
Until all you can see is puddles,
You tell each other
Clear and calm,
How okay it all really is.
Vacant and redeeming.
A September calm has replaced
A fresh start.
Your blistering, July hearts.


REVISED:


Steam

You sit together
Faces burning red hot
With blame and anger,
But most of all, regret.
Echoes of “I’m sorry”
Begin to rise in your throats.
As the flames fade away,
You tell each other,
Wordlessly,
How okay it all really is.
A September calm has replaced
Your blistering, July hearts.

Tiny blue circles tumble down
One by one, hitting everything,
Relentless in their watery strength.
They pound on every building,
Person, and piece of land,
Washing away the dirt,
The filth,
Every blemish of this earth,
Until all you can see are puddles.
Vacant and redeeming,
They are perfect for childlike splashing
With a well-loved friend.

Steam rises and wisps away.
A fresh start.

There you have it, finally something new from me. I'm really loving my Creative Writing class, so I think I'll be posting some more from it as I find pieces that I really like. Maybe I'll write a story at some point! :D

♥

At the end of this semester (or maybe earlier but don't get your hopes up), I might be scanning in some of my drawings from my Drawing 1 class. I'm a total drawing noob, so hopefully no one will make fun of me, but yeah. Just thought I'd tell you that and oh yeah, I am not dead at this point in time. :)

It's been a while since I've posted writing here...

Here's a thing I wrote for my Creative Writing class, after writing this observation journal thingy. I was supposed to basically take chunks from the journal entry and string them together to form a poem. It probably won't make sense to you unless you go to a school where there aren't buses.

Anyway, enjoy. :D

The Unlicensed

You’re sitting among the grass, wet and warm.
Take a moment to listen.
The dam has burst
In t he river of volume.
A million tiny, explosive voices crash like waves.

You see metal monsters on four wheels
Eating up children, one by one
They pull up, wait, receive what they’ve been waiting for.
Then they leave.
Lather, rinse, repeat.

You continue to watch
The crowd surrounding that glass room.
Some have eyes wandering
As though the sky or ground or anything else is
Pulling them into another reality;
As though their toys or their hands are screaming
Something worth listening to.

One by one, or two by two
They disappear, only to wait again the next day,
Among the orderly chaos.
The busy busying,
The lonely lonesoming,
And you to watch them from your island,
Farby and near away.

Work in progress?

I got paint on this shirt. I figured I'd paint it, so that I could wear it again. I like what I've got so far, but I'm not 100% sure if I'm done yet. I might do something more of a background, especially since I didn't cover over all the yellow paint on it. Here's what I've got so far...




p.s. I did this in fabric paint, just in case anyone was wondering. I just used those puff paints with a brush. I did the same with my boots in this entry, only I used some acrylics on those, too (since Converse pretty much are made of canvas and they will not be going in the washing machine).

Is it some kind of seaweed monster?

For the second time, I went to the Michigan dunes with my boyfriend. He then proceeded to turn into a seaweed monster. He has since returned to normal, but at the time, it was quite disturbing.

It's been a while, eh?

Not much to post, just a simple picture of a kitty. It was wandering around in my back yard, so I took a few snapshots (and snuck in a few ear & tummy pets, as well).

I WILL UPDATE THIS SOONISHLY, I PROMISE.

I do not currently have a camera because I left it (along with my brand new concealer, grr) at my friend's house in a purse last week. Hopefully I will see her soon.

I shall try to do some writing, and you may or may not see a bit of the comic that is still yet to emerge from the minds of my boyfriend and myself.

Sorry for lack of updates, though. D:

So sorry for the lack of updates as of late. I haven't been working on anything... hopefully a comic will start happening soon...

In the meantime, here is something I made when I was probably about 5 years old. Read the regular blog for more details.



Hope you had a good laugh looking at this... I know I did.