School's out. FINALLY!!!!! And I just got through four days completely full of stuff. I thought wasn't going to be busy until I left for my family reunion. Yeah, got that right (whatever). Well, so far my summer's been awesome. Two dances, a senior party, a musical, a crap load of babysitting (don't we all love that?), and a chance to write more and take tons of pictures! YAY! But I'm going to finish this in a mellow tone. Who's up for poetry? Rhetorical question, please no one make any comments on whether you really care for it or not. I, for one, do care. I've been writing a lot lately, so I thought I'd give you guys a look at my 'sensitive' side.
Prelude in Third
Yes. She heard them.
The wind chimes.
Ting…ching…ta-ching ching…chingle ting…ta-ling chingle….
Eyes closed, lips smiling.
Listening.
Yearning for the wind to bow on the grass.
Waiting for the mellow sunlight to spin
And whisper on the glass and the dew.
She was just listening;
Listening with her mind,
Her ears, her heart.
She was listening for the music.
Oh! It was there!
The brook was trickling somewhere to her left,
Standing as the moving melody.
Plittle plittle ching! Cha-ching plittle-little ting! Lickle-ling pling ching!
The musical laugh sang,
Giggling at the beauty of the dawn,
Chuckling at the mist as the air floated serenely.
Somewhere a bird descanted in rapture,
And another creature trumpeted its waking.
She felt the earth thrumming like
A deep, soft bass, smooth and calm.
They all moved together in time,
As she moved her hands in each direction,
Guiding the song of the morning.
Nature was her symphony and music was her purpose.
It was the only thing that let her mind rest
From everything else.
The feelings were too misunderstood
To describe it correctly.
All she felt was music.
Music.
Song.
Dance.
Sidewalk song:
Some treat life like a cash crop
I’m still kinda growing
The tailor stole the farmer’s wife
Both men keep on sewing/sowing
If you meet me along the creek
I bet we’ll catch some fish to eat
Unless Spring steals my bait
They make pipes from bamboo in Babylon
Night song:
Time gave me the slip again
He’s running out on me again
I should sleep, but wasn’t it
Just morning a minute ago?
Sometimes my thoughts talk too loud
I swear it’s never silent
Even when the stars poke their way
Through the blanket of indigo
If you could hold me like an angel
Protect me with your heart
I’ll give you mine for safe keeping
Through the hours plagued with dark
I will hold your heart as well
Keep it warm and tight
If only we could lay that way
Together for just one night
Confusion
I don’t understand
The world tells you to take
And then give at the same time
You know you would give something more, something better
If they only would give you a little more, something just a little better
They don’t give you a break
And yet you come out broken
Ask you to catch others
When you’ve already fallen
Deal me a diamond, a heart, club, or spade
And I’ll go out and dig my own grave
You can’t ever mend enough hearts
To pay for all the ones you’ve broken
The Heimlich has never worked
For someone who’s really choking
Don’t tell me I’m a fool
I’ll ask you if you’re not
We’re not under one rule
The argument changes when it’s hot
I’ll cry for maybe seconds
And then I’ll sock you in the face
You’re gonna tell me it hurts
Well, then I rest my case
We’ve all been criminals once
Do you see us all in jail?
Your life is only crap
When that’s how you write your tale
Look who’s talking about peace
When you started this whole war
The happiest people
Are open to get hurt more
You only say you love me
When you’re getting really angry
Can’t you just admit you hate me
Just to save the breath you’re wasting
How did the apology go?
It didn’t sound quite right
It went ‘I’m sorry, I was wrong
But here’s where you went wrong,’
I know it’s not your fault that
None of these things make sense
It just makes me sad to think
That it’s all at our expense
Who am I?
The ID I have is stolen
Imagination let me have it
But it’s still wrong to keep it
Because I’m not myself
I’m just borrowed
I just keep thinking I have ears
For every problem that I whine for
But there’s just those two on my head
Trying to shut out the noise
Don’t mind me, I drugged with music
That no one else even likes
It was prescribed by this sign
That I saw leaning on dirt for support
And that same day I threw the cards
To cut the house down
I used it to build a tree in my backyard
So maybe I could go way back in time
And learn how to restart
Today I sit here humming
Every wrong note that I know
I hope it’s loud enough
For this cruel, fat world to hear
I’ve been deafened because silence is too loud
Even the night is too bright for me
When all the lights have gone out.
The Turmoil of the Unknown
Questions.
Lots of Questions.
But no Answers.
In my Head,
Thoughts keep Buzzing,
Always.
See.
I see Him
Look at Me.
I don’t Know
What he Sees.
Face?
Want.
Want to Know
If he Sees
Who I Am
Not my Face
Wish.
Dream.
Hope he Dreams
Like I Dream.
Dream of Him.
Him and Me.
Love.
Heart.
Have a Heart.
I want His.
Want his Heart
For my Own.
Beat.
I Want To Be Human
I feel unreal
Like I don’t belong, like I’m different
I wish I could feel
‘Cuz I don’t understand, do you think I should?
Apart from everything
Where I can’t say anything
The language is too hard for me
With pressure pressing hard on me
If I had one wish, I’d say:
I wanna be human
So everyone can understand where I’m coming from
I wanna be human
Where my feelings are so strong
I wanna be seen
As a human being
Instead of feeling alien
Is this a heart?
Is it beating? How can you tell?
Are these hands?
Look what they’ve done without even thinking
Feeling all those eyes on me
Staring at my invisibility
Who’s this creature that’s supposed to be me?
I don’t want anyone to see
The invalid who keeps on saying:
I wanna be human
So everyone can understand where I’m coming from
I wanna be human
Where my feelings are so strong
I wanna be seen
As a human being
Instead of feeling alien
I’ve never felt love before
I’ve never been hated more
I ask for what I don’t deserve
And yet somehow I find the nerve
To come right out and say
Please save my soul today
King of Hearts
He’s a master.
What can I say?
It’s been a long time
Since he stole my heart away.
I almost forgot how to think
Or even how to feel
He got me all confused
On which love of mine is real.
Did those eyes say
What I thought they said?
Did they say ‘I want you’
Or ‘I want you dead’?
No words ever left his mouth,
The silence said enough.
But it just seems all too dreamy
Why are choices made so tough?
There was only one road block
That kept getting in the way.
That’s why I felt uneasy
When he looked at me that way.
If he’s going to have girl
Trail along at his side
Then why should he make me feel
Like he has something to hide?
Red roses are so pretty
But their already opened.
I’m waiting for that special one
For anything to happen.
This guy’s been asking for it
But he seems too suspicious.
Yet I can’t help but keep thinking
That he must be delicious.
I’m not the only one;
I’ve heard dozens of others say
That one twinkle of the eyes
Will make any girl pray,
‘If only he were mine,
Then I’d be quite the angel.”
Except he’s not mine—
At least I can’t tell.
It’d be nice if he was.
He’d probably be great.
It would be either that
Or he’s something I’d hate.
I guess it’s all a gamble
And he has all the cards.
Didn’t I tell you?
He’s the king of hearts.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Okay, I think I can give you guys some pictures now!!
So, now that everyone is away from the computer and my homework is done, I can finally give you all some visual of my life from the past few months. Now, I'll have to say, I haven't been taking too many pictures because I'm still not used to the one gig memory card my dad gave me, and even though I can take almost 1000 pictures now, I still have the feeling that after 20 I'm running out of room. But this is too much typing--don't I give you enough to read already?
Alright, I'd say that's a good wrap for now. But never fear! I'll get back to my world soon (once school is out) and the imagination will run so free it won't even feel the pants on it (I can't have imagination streaking now)! So, until next time, so long!
This is the lovely random artwork of someone in one of Mr. Palmiter's world geography class. I decided it was an owl, but everyone else felt like calling it the Palmitizer in honor of Mr. Palmiter. The Palmitizer didn't last too long.
Actually, this picture came from Christmas. All my family was over and we were enjoying making gingerbread men. I thought it would be fun to make the gingerbread man from Shrek, especially the scene where the guards are pointing weapons at him and he has a sorry accident. I got my sisters to hold out the knives.
You've already met Melody, my Hello Kitty Homey. There was a band festival (unless I forgot that this was during the choir festival) so this was taken while the band class was waiting for it all to be over.
This is the amazing Colby!! The most interesting piccolo player you'll ever meet.
And this is Ryann! I haven't introduced you all to the awesome Ryann yet, have I? She my soul clarinet sister, and the greatest dancer I know! I'll say that I didn't take a good enough picture of her, but if I'd had a better camera, she'd be smiling bigger.
Taylor Berry, or Blueberry, is the drama queen. I hope she got the hat I stole back to the kid I stole it from.
Trumpet for life! That's how Marissa rolls. It's a shame she doesn't like her picture taken that often, because she always looks awesome, if not unique.
I actually took this picture while babysitting the most awesome kids in the world. Really, how many five year olds do you know that own such an ubersweet hat? And it even made me look good in my own picture! Trust me, that is very rare.
Alright, I'd say that's a good wrap for now. But never fear! I'll get back to my world soon (once school is out) and the imagination will run so free it won't even feel the pants on it (I can't have imagination streaking now)! So, until next time, so long!
Monday, April 7, 2008
Some entertainment while I'm busy....
Alright, I haven't been fair. I haven't given any interesting pictures or news about how well I'm doing. One day when I have nothing else to do, spoiling you all with fulfilling my promises will be all I do! But just so you all can chew on something while that day awaits, I've decided that I won't mind giving little excerpts from the stories I've been writing until people start complaining about them. So here's an idea that fairly new for you all to enjoy! If any ideas sound familiar to you, I'll let you guess where I was getting most of the ideas for this story....
“Wait for Daddy, Laora, we want to wave to him,” Mahrea was saying, holding up her little girl, hardly three months old. The ranks trudged past them, all uniform and organization, young men with the hearts of wise elders. Anastasia watched in her simple awe, wondering what made these men so compelled to fight that they would even go down into the third plane. She couldn’t imagine what horror, what terror they would come to know, and if they returned, how could they live with such memories of such a disgusting, awful place?
“Look!” Mahrea cried. “There he is! There’s Bentam!” She struggled to keep Laora at her side as she excitedly pointed to her husband, the tall and dark Bentam. Anastasia found him, second man in, taking his chance to secretly wink at his wife and daughter before returning to his stiff, focused position forward. Mr. and Mrs. Bell were cheering loudly, now that they had seen their valiant son-in-law making his way to the battle.
Though everyone was so cheery and enraptured around her, Anastasia couldn’t help but feel a dark hand of fear take hold on her. She knew many of these young men, from church, from school, and had been friends with them in her early childhood. And Bentam was as much of an older brother to her as a real older brother would have been. Just watching them march off made her want to count each one, so that she could count them all when they came marching back, and see of they were all there. Any who were missing, whether she knew them or not, she would feel sorry for them. Thoron was not a place to have the last of your memories, she knew. The thoughts in her head became overwhelming, and soon Anastasia could not watch the parade any longer.
“Mama,” she said, turning to her mother. Mrs. Bell looked at her, still grinning with excitement.
“Yes, dear?” she said.
“I’m tired of the parade. May I go home and tidy up the shop for opening this afternoon?” Her mother’s smile shrank, but it remained to a length.
“I’m sorry you’re not enjoying the parade, but go ahead and clean up the shop. I hadn’t thought of what to do about that after the parade before we opened today. Thank you.”
“Welcome, Mama.” Anastasia turned and made her way through the crowd, trying to take the shortcut through an alleyway. She tried to be polite as she gently elbowed and wended her way past the tightly knit throng. Once she’d gotten out of the crowd, Anastasia quietly made her way across the cobblestone street, her shoes clacking loudly on the stones in the alley.
She let her mind wander as she looked around at the quiet, empty town, with the only noises being the distant parade behind, her light breathing and her shoes tapping each cobblestone she trod on. It was so peaceful to be alone and in quiet after all of that clamor and suffocating fear. Looking up at the sky, she breathed in the fresh air. Oh, even in the town, the spring was sweet. Anastasia closed her eyes and walked a little slower, listening for birdsong. Instead, she heard something moving in the shadows.
Opening her eyes again, Anastasia stopped and looked around, keeping herself wary of someone lurking in an alley. She found it curious that someone would be hiding in the outer skirts of the city when everyone was centered at the main street. This time, she listened for anything. There it was again—someone moving, unseen in the dark! Every small whisper suggested impending danger. She took a small step forward and waited. Nothing happened. She continued forward slowly, step by step, trying to be quiet as she could.
Suddenly, a hiss slithered from somewhere behind her. Anastasia didn’t turn around, but instead began running. She’d forgotten which street she was on, but for the moment it didn’t matter. All she should do now was run away from her pursuer. There was a small alley ahead that she might lose them in; they might continue onward without realizing where she’d gone. Pushing faster to get away as soon as possible, Anastasia went around the corner and met a demon.
Anastasia screamed in terror! The demon had rows of long sharp teeth and they were dripping with a black substance that she didn’t care to learn about. It stood on two legs and inched forward, it’s clawed, blistery hands poised to snatch her. The skin looked slick and almost blubbery, but it was bulged with muscle and menace. Anastasia hardly had time to move before two more fell from the roofs above, all advancing on her. In fright, she turned and ran out of the alleyway and dashed through the streets simply trying to get the demons off of her trail. Like dogs, they snarled and gnashed their teeth as they bounded after her.
She turned blindly this way and that, with only the intense feeling of demons leaping at her tail that could snatch her at any moment. Her breathing became loud and panicked. Get away, get away! In desperation she went into a building and began clambering up the stairs. Surely they couldn’t follow her on top of everything! When she opened the door that entered onto the roof she felt a stitch in her side, and she had to gasp for air before continuing. The roof was at least level enough for her to stay balanced. Anastasia kept on running.
She thanked the Creator that all the roofs were connected together; the thought of jumping from roof to roof was unbearable in the state of fright she was in. But from behind Anastasia heard savage growling and she knew the demons were on the roof. Water began to fill her eyes as she struggled to see where she was headed now that she faced the winds above the houses. Keep running! Out of the corner of her eye, Anastasia saw demons racing her on the opposite side of the street. Risking a glance behind, she could see that the others had gained on her. And out ahead was the end of the street—the end of the roof.
She could go no further without jumping off, which she knew would result in injury or death, but if she didn’t, the demons would be on top of her for sure. In making the decision, she slowed before she reached the end of the roof. She looked over the edge—the ground was at least three stories below—and then looked back. The doggish demons were licking their chops as they greedily advanced on her. Anastasia closed her eyes and jumped—but she didn’t land.
Something had caught on her, and Anastasia watched the ground moving fast below her. She was rising high above the roof tops of the town, and gradually traveling lighter. Looking up, Anastasia yelped in surprise as she found a man holding her up in the air, moving her along. They were flying! The demons were nowhere to be found.
“Good day!” the man said to her brightly. He looked down at her like some happy-go-lucky traveler who made a daily activity of flying. It certainly made Anastasia speechless. She could only stare up at him with wide, fearful eyes.
“There’s no need to be afraid of me; I just caught you from falling,” he told her. “But then I must understand your silence. Is this your first time flying?” She felt her head nodding yes. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll bring you straight home.” Anastasia watched as the ground seemed to be turning, and soon the roofs of the town were going past. She looked up at the man again in awe.
He was young, if not less than five years older than her, and very handsome. He had shoulder-length pure black hair that shone almost blue in the sunlight, and eyes just as deep and dark. His features were lean and relaxed, and he had a brightness about him that emanated from his face. The man wore a billowy white shirt and black trousers, with a dark blue coat fastened half-way up. On top of his head was a cavalier hat with a white feather. Anastasia thought how amazing it was that a man so strikingly given would be kindly enough to save her from the demons that had chased her only minutes ago. Now she was floating above the rooftops with this wonderful stranger.
“So, miss,” he was saying. “If you would be so kind to tell me exactly where you live, then maybe I could take you to the right place.”
Anastasia took a moment to collect herself and find her voice. “I live above the jewelry shop, East Central,” she told him.
“Ah, the jewelry shop!” he cried. “Do you work there?” She nodded. “One of my favorite places. If I don’t buy anything, then I shall at least stay to browse.”
It was only a few more moments before they alighted at the door of the shop and went inside. Anastasia instantly went to her duty of tidying up the place, fetching the duster and putting on her apron. The man respectfully looked around at each item, eyeing every detail carefully, like a critic, but he could never say anything destructive about the artwork.
“Beautiful!” or, “How stunning!” he would say every few moments, taking a minute to point out what he loved about every necklace, brooch, and sculpture. Anastasia silently smiled at his comments, and went on to sweeping the floor. When she had finished behind the counter and tossed out what she’d swept up, the man approached her with two things.
“I must know who made these two lovely pieces, so they will see the honor of my having bought them.” He held up a necklace and a sculpted heart. The necklace was a chain that held a clear rhome ball inside of which was canary rhome ball. It glistened and sparkled in the light like the sun inside the moon being revealed. The heart was of scarlet hembrone, just big enough to fit in the man’s palm.
“Oh!” Anastasia cried when she saw these. “Actually, my mother made that necklace.”
“Really?” the man said. “So it seems your family owns this shop.” She nodded. “Well, I should recommend this place to many of my friends. Many men such as I do enjoy these works of art. But you didn’t tell me of the artist for this heart, miss.” Anastasia was surprised that he was so curious.
“Oh,” she stuttered, “Well, I made the heart, sir. That’s one of my first pieces out of hembrone.” She couldn’t stop herself from blushing and shying away. No one had ever bought any of her own pieces, and certainly never those among the first of her attempts. As far as she was concerned, there were several other hearts left for him to choose from that she thought were done much better. But the man had yet insisted on purchasing hers.
“I’ll assure you, miss, that this work is some of the best I’ve ever seen,” he told her. She hesitated before continuing on to wrapping the two items carefully.
“Thank you, sir,” she said humbly and she set the two wraps in a bag and handed it to the man.
He opened a bag that hung from his belt and poured a wealth of gold coins onto the counter.“A tip for your lovely work, miss.” He said before Anastasia could tell him he’d paid too much. “I should thank you, miss. But this whole time we’ve been strangers; how rude of me not to introduce myself! You may call me Wizard Rowl, or simply Rowl, if you wish.”
Anastasia smiled demurely and said, “Rowl. A pleasure to meet you, sir—er—Wizard Rowl.” She had caught herself in time to remember not to call him ‘sir’.
“And a pleasure it was to meet you, miss…?” He left an opening for her to tell him her name.
“Anastasia Bell,” she told him.
“Anastasia Bell,” he repeated. “What a beautiful name! Thank you, Anastasia.” He lifted the hand which rested on the counter and kissed it politely. Then he took off his hat and bowed respectfully. “Good day, Miss Anastasia Bell.” And then the Wizard Rowl walked out the door and disappeared down the empty street.
“Look!” Mahrea cried. “There he is! There’s Bentam!” She struggled to keep Laora at her side as she excitedly pointed to her husband, the tall and dark Bentam. Anastasia found him, second man in, taking his chance to secretly wink at his wife and daughter before returning to his stiff, focused position forward. Mr. and Mrs. Bell were cheering loudly, now that they had seen their valiant son-in-law making his way to the battle.
Though everyone was so cheery and enraptured around her, Anastasia couldn’t help but feel a dark hand of fear take hold on her. She knew many of these young men, from church, from school, and had been friends with them in her early childhood. And Bentam was as much of an older brother to her as a real older brother would have been. Just watching them march off made her want to count each one, so that she could count them all when they came marching back, and see of they were all there. Any who were missing, whether she knew them or not, she would feel sorry for them. Thoron was not a place to have the last of your memories, she knew. The thoughts in her head became overwhelming, and soon Anastasia could not watch the parade any longer.
“Mama,” she said, turning to her mother. Mrs. Bell looked at her, still grinning with excitement.
“Yes, dear?” she said.
“I’m tired of the parade. May I go home and tidy up the shop for opening this afternoon?” Her mother’s smile shrank, but it remained to a length.
“I’m sorry you’re not enjoying the parade, but go ahead and clean up the shop. I hadn’t thought of what to do about that after the parade before we opened today. Thank you.”
“Welcome, Mama.” Anastasia turned and made her way through the crowd, trying to take the shortcut through an alleyway. She tried to be polite as she gently elbowed and wended her way past the tightly knit throng. Once she’d gotten out of the crowd, Anastasia quietly made her way across the cobblestone street, her shoes clacking loudly on the stones in the alley.
She let her mind wander as she looked around at the quiet, empty town, with the only noises being the distant parade behind, her light breathing and her shoes tapping each cobblestone she trod on. It was so peaceful to be alone and in quiet after all of that clamor and suffocating fear. Looking up at the sky, she breathed in the fresh air. Oh, even in the town, the spring was sweet. Anastasia closed her eyes and walked a little slower, listening for birdsong. Instead, she heard something moving in the shadows.
Opening her eyes again, Anastasia stopped and looked around, keeping herself wary of someone lurking in an alley. She found it curious that someone would be hiding in the outer skirts of the city when everyone was centered at the main street. This time, she listened for anything. There it was again—someone moving, unseen in the dark! Every small whisper suggested impending danger. She took a small step forward and waited. Nothing happened. She continued forward slowly, step by step, trying to be quiet as she could.
Suddenly, a hiss slithered from somewhere behind her. Anastasia didn’t turn around, but instead began running. She’d forgotten which street she was on, but for the moment it didn’t matter. All she should do now was run away from her pursuer. There was a small alley ahead that she might lose them in; they might continue onward without realizing where she’d gone. Pushing faster to get away as soon as possible, Anastasia went around the corner and met a demon.
Anastasia screamed in terror! The demon had rows of long sharp teeth and they were dripping with a black substance that she didn’t care to learn about. It stood on two legs and inched forward, it’s clawed, blistery hands poised to snatch her. The skin looked slick and almost blubbery, but it was bulged with muscle and menace. Anastasia hardly had time to move before two more fell from the roofs above, all advancing on her. In fright, she turned and ran out of the alleyway and dashed through the streets simply trying to get the demons off of her trail. Like dogs, they snarled and gnashed their teeth as they bounded after her.
She turned blindly this way and that, with only the intense feeling of demons leaping at her tail that could snatch her at any moment. Her breathing became loud and panicked. Get away, get away! In desperation she went into a building and began clambering up the stairs. Surely they couldn’t follow her on top of everything! When she opened the door that entered onto the roof she felt a stitch in her side, and she had to gasp for air before continuing. The roof was at least level enough for her to stay balanced. Anastasia kept on running.
She thanked the Creator that all the roofs were connected together; the thought of jumping from roof to roof was unbearable in the state of fright she was in. But from behind Anastasia heard savage growling and she knew the demons were on the roof. Water began to fill her eyes as she struggled to see where she was headed now that she faced the winds above the houses. Keep running! Out of the corner of her eye, Anastasia saw demons racing her on the opposite side of the street. Risking a glance behind, she could see that the others had gained on her. And out ahead was the end of the street—the end of the roof.
She could go no further without jumping off, which she knew would result in injury or death, but if she didn’t, the demons would be on top of her for sure. In making the decision, she slowed before she reached the end of the roof. She looked over the edge—the ground was at least three stories below—and then looked back. The doggish demons were licking their chops as they greedily advanced on her. Anastasia closed her eyes and jumped—but she didn’t land.
Something had caught on her, and Anastasia watched the ground moving fast below her. She was rising high above the roof tops of the town, and gradually traveling lighter. Looking up, Anastasia yelped in surprise as she found a man holding her up in the air, moving her along. They were flying! The demons were nowhere to be found.
“Good day!” the man said to her brightly. He looked down at her like some happy-go-lucky traveler who made a daily activity of flying. It certainly made Anastasia speechless. She could only stare up at him with wide, fearful eyes.
“There’s no need to be afraid of me; I just caught you from falling,” he told her. “But then I must understand your silence. Is this your first time flying?” She felt her head nodding yes. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll bring you straight home.” Anastasia watched as the ground seemed to be turning, and soon the roofs of the town were going past. She looked up at the man again in awe.
He was young, if not less than five years older than her, and very handsome. He had shoulder-length pure black hair that shone almost blue in the sunlight, and eyes just as deep and dark. His features were lean and relaxed, and he had a brightness about him that emanated from his face. The man wore a billowy white shirt and black trousers, with a dark blue coat fastened half-way up. On top of his head was a cavalier hat with a white feather. Anastasia thought how amazing it was that a man so strikingly given would be kindly enough to save her from the demons that had chased her only minutes ago. Now she was floating above the rooftops with this wonderful stranger.
“So, miss,” he was saying. “If you would be so kind to tell me exactly where you live, then maybe I could take you to the right place.”
Anastasia took a moment to collect herself and find her voice. “I live above the jewelry shop, East Central,” she told him.
“Ah, the jewelry shop!” he cried. “Do you work there?” She nodded. “One of my favorite places. If I don’t buy anything, then I shall at least stay to browse.”
It was only a few more moments before they alighted at the door of the shop and went inside. Anastasia instantly went to her duty of tidying up the place, fetching the duster and putting on her apron. The man respectfully looked around at each item, eyeing every detail carefully, like a critic, but he could never say anything destructive about the artwork.
“Beautiful!” or, “How stunning!” he would say every few moments, taking a minute to point out what he loved about every necklace, brooch, and sculpture. Anastasia silently smiled at his comments, and went on to sweeping the floor. When she had finished behind the counter and tossed out what she’d swept up, the man approached her with two things.
“I must know who made these two lovely pieces, so they will see the honor of my having bought them.” He held up a necklace and a sculpted heart. The necklace was a chain that held a clear rhome ball inside of which was canary rhome ball. It glistened and sparkled in the light like the sun inside the moon being revealed. The heart was of scarlet hembrone, just big enough to fit in the man’s palm.
“Oh!” Anastasia cried when she saw these. “Actually, my mother made that necklace.”
“Really?” the man said. “So it seems your family owns this shop.” She nodded. “Well, I should recommend this place to many of my friends. Many men such as I do enjoy these works of art. But you didn’t tell me of the artist for this heart, miss.” Anastasia was surprised that he was so curious.
“Oh,” she stuttered, “Well, I made the heart, sir. That’s one of my first pieces out of hembrone.” She couldn’t stop herself from blushing and shying away. No one had ever bought any of her own pieces, and certainly never those among the first of her attempts. As far as she was concerned, there were several other hearts left for him to choose from that she thought were done much better. But the man had yet insisted on purchasing hers.
“I’ll assure you, miss, that this work is some of the best I’ve ever seen,” he told her. She hesitated before continuing on to wrapping the two items carefully.
“Thank you, sir,” she said humbly and she set the two wraps in a bag and handed it to the man.
He opened a bag that hung from his belt and poured a wealth of gold coins onto the counter.“A tip for your lovely work, miss.” He said before Anastasia could tell him he’d paid too much. “I should thank you, miss. But this whole time we’ve been strangers; how rude of me not to introduce myself! You may call me Wizard Rowl, or simply Rowl, if you wish.”
Anastasia smiled demurely and said, “Rowl. A pleasure to meet you, sir—er—Wizard Rowl.” She had caught herself in time to remember not to call him ‘sir’.
“And a pleasure it was to meet you, miss…?” He left an opening for her to tell him her name.
“Anastasia Bell,” she told him.
“Anastasia Bell,” he repeated. “What a beautiful name! Thank you, Anastasia.” He lifted the hand which rested on the counter and kissed it politely. Then he took off his hat and bowed respectfully. “Good day, Miss Anastasia Bell.” And then the Wizard Rowl walked out the door and disappeared down the empty street.
Friday, March 21, 2008
The Mystery Of Madison Moss: Analyzed by Blogthings
What Your Handwriting Says About You |
 You are a fairly energetic person. You know how do pace yourself, and you deal well with stress. You range from very outgoing to very shy. You are a shapeshifter who is very versatile. You adapt well, and you look at things from many angles. You are balanced and grounded. You know how to get along well with others. You don't a lot of space, and you prefer to spend time with others. You are a little nosy and intrusive. You sometimes don't give people enough space. You are a free thinker. You are unique, open minded, and artistic. You don't care what other people think. You are a poor communicator. No one really knows exactly what you're getting at. |
Madison Elise Moss's Aliases |
 Your movie star name: Peanut Butter Jelly Marlo Your fashion designer name is Madison London Your socialite name is Cindy-Lou Who Seattle Your fly girl / guy name is M Mos Your detective name is Horse Arlington Your barfly name is Cookie None Your soap opera name is Elise Cambridge Your rock star name is Twix Car Your Star Wars name is Madjas Mosken Your punk rock band name is The Happy Pickle Ball |
Your True Love Is a Libra |
 Why you'll love a Libra: Social and charming, a Libra is sure to turn your head in a group setting. Libra has the style and grace to intrigue you... and the passionate soul to reel you in. Why a Libra will love you: You're laid back and patient. Libra doesn't feel rushed to make a decision with you. An appreciator of beauty, you can show Libra all sorts of inspiration - from art to nature. |
Your Hair Should Be Orange |
 Expressive, deep, and one of a kind. You pull off "weird" well - hardly anyone notices. |
Your Love Life is Like Titanic |
 "Promise me you'll survive. That you won't give up, no matter what happens, no matter how hopeless." You think that you only really have one true love in your life. And that you better to anything and everything to be with that person. You tend to be very nostalgic about past loves that didn't work out. There are many secret feelings that you keep to yourself. Your love style: Deep and emotional Your Hollywood Ending Will Be: Bittersweet |
You Are Marge Simpson |
 You're a devoted family member who loves unconditionally. Sometimes, though, you dream about living a wild secret life! You will be remembered for: your good cooking and evading the police Your life philosophy: "You should listen to your heart, and not the voices in your head." |
What Your Soul Really Looks Like |
 You are a wanderer. You constantly long for a new adventure, challenge, or eve a completely different life. You are a very grounded, responsible, and realistic person. People may not want to hear the truth from you, but they're going to get it. You believe that people see you for how you are, not how you look. But deep down, you know that's not exactly true. Your near future is in a very different place (both physically and mentally) from where you are right now. For you, love is all about caring and comfort. You couldn't fall in love with someone you didn't trust. |
You Are An ENFP |
 The Inspirer You love being around people, and you are deeply committed to your friends. You are also unconventional, irreverent, and unimpressed by authority and rules. Incredibly perceptive, you can usually sense if someone has hidden motives. You use lots of colorful language and expressions. You're quite the storyteller! In love, you are quite the charmer. And you are definitely willing to risk your heart. You often don't follow through with your flirting or professed feelings. And you do break a lot of hearts. At work, you are driven but not a workaholic. You just always seem to enjoy what you do. You would make an excellent entrepreneur, politician, or journalist. How you see yourself: compassionate, unselfish, and understanding When other people don't get you, they see you as: gushy, emotional, and unfocused |
You Are More Yang |
 Creative Angry Spring Summer Morning Sun Space Active Wood Chocolate |
Star Wars Horoscope for Sagittarius |
 You are superbly wise and have been known to spread your wisdom widely. You are impatient and pushy when people take your teachings too lightly. And your philosophical side always peeks through. Star wars character you are most like: Yoda |
Your Karaoke Theme Song is "Since U Been Gone" |
 You are a very expressive and genuine person. You're not so emotional that you wear your heart on your sleeve - but you're not afraid to show how you're truly feeling. Whether you're singing along in the car or singing on stage, your favorite songs make you get a little carried away. You're definitely the type most likely to dream of becoming a rock star! You might also sing: "Livin' La Vida Loca," "I Will Survive," or "Hollaback Girl" Stay away from people who sing: "I'll Make Love to You" |
What People Think of Your Mouth |
 People see you as both genuine and spontaneous. You really love life, and it shows. You are easy to get to know. You tend to have a wide circle of friends, and many different interests. While many people know you, no one can exactly figure you out. |
Friday, February 8, 2008
KAWAZAOUCHSZXIANGCBSOWAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!
That was my little war cry right there, I was just practicing. My random outcries are losing their touch. And I'm out of touch with you guys!!!!!! I wish I had more time to talk, but you'll have to see me later. When I do have the time, it it so totally major photo album time. HECK YEAH! You finally will get to see my pictures and I can save the story spoilers for later!!! I actually need to get some work going on all of my stories anyhow (plus I need get down some new ideas). If no one looked or noticed, all about me is new, so look in the corner with the lovely picture of the blonde lady (not me) and enjoy. Right now I'm leaving to go to my grandma's because we're helping her FINALLY move into her new house. But I've missed you all and I miss you still! Loves and regards from Waterspryte!
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Quiz Day!!!
| Your Personality Profile |
 You are elegant, withdrawn, and brilliant. Your mind is a weapon, able to solve any puzzle. You are also great at poking holes in arguments and common beliefs. For you, comfort and calm are very important. You tend to thrive on your own and shrug off most affection. You prefer to protect your emotions and stay strong. |
| Your Scholastic Strength Is Deep Thinking |
 You aren't afraid to delve head first into a difficult subject, with mastery as your goal. You are talented at adapting, motivating others, managing resources, and analyzing risk. You should major in: Philosophy Music Theology Art History Foreign language |
| You Are Fall! |
 Expressive Creative Poetic Smart |
You Are a Freedom Rocker! |
 You're stuck in the 70s - for better or worse Crazy hair, pot soaked clothes, and tons of groupies Your kind showed the world how to rock Is that freedom rock?... Well turn it up man! |
| The Keys to Your Heart |
 You are attracted to those who are unbridled, untrammeled, and free. In love, you feel the most alive when things are straight-forward, and you're told that you're loved. You'd like to your lover to think you are optimistic and happy. You would be forced to break up with someone who was ruthless, cold-blooded, and sarcastic. Your ideal relationship is open. Both of you can talk about everything... no secrets. Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment. You think of marriage as something precious. You'll treasure marriage and treat it as sacred. In this moment, you think of love as something you thirst for. You'll do anything for love, but you won't fall for it easily. |
| Your Element Is Fire |
 Your passion and emotion are as obvious as the brightest flame. You make sparks fly, and your passion always has the potential to burst out. You are exciting and creative - and completely unpredictable. You sometimes exercise control, and sometimes you let yourself go. Friends describe you as sensitive, spirited, and compulsive. Bright and blazing with intensity, you seem mysterious and moody to many. |
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Another dream sequence.
This isn't as creepy as the first one I showed, but it still has a weird factor. I got the idea from a song called Faust, Midas, and Myself by Switchfoot. Any of you who know the song, I hope you like this!
Peter was just walking down the sidewalk a few blocks from his house, casually, with a sort of ho-hum look on his face. Hands in his pockets, nothing was really going through his head. But then he heard soft footsteps behind him, and turning, he saw a man with bronze curly hair and a square jaw smiling at him. His eyes looked deep-set, and yet the pure, bright blue that the sun reflected made them almost pop out. He wore a dark blue business suit that even Jack would be jealous of, but he looked too friendly to have asked for it on his own. Still, the grandeur that emanated from him made Peter feel more nervous than he’d ever felt before. As the man approached, all the color around them drained away, and made Peter all the more spooked.
“Hi, Peter.” The man said. The grace and absoluteness in his voice had an eerie tone to it too, causing every molecule in Peter’s body to chill and attempt to crawl away. The perfection that surrounded this man just made him feel inferior, and meeting him must mean that he’d done something just as unsuitable. Through sheer amazement, Peter was unable to answer.
“Peter,” the man was looking at him.
“Yes?” Peter answered tentatively.
“How’ve you been lately?” The inquiry was nearly a psychiatrist type of question. Still, Peter shrugged as he thought of his answer.
“I guess I’ve been fine. I’m doing well in track and I’ve been getting better in school these past couple weeks. I made Jack happy for once, which would almost have never happened if he hadn’t finally gotten some common sense.” The last remark suddenly seemed to smack him on the mouth. The man didn’t seem to be disturbed by it. Peter found himself looking down at his feet in embarrassment at what he’d just said.
“I have something for you,” the man told him. He instantly turned around and began to walk away. Peter’s curiosity forced him to follow, his feet giving full trust to the other person. It occurred to him then that the man hadn’t introduced himself neither explained why he was there or how he knew Peter. But for the same reason, Peter no longer wished to learn his name or anything else about the man. They simply continued walking.
Coming to the end of a sidewalk some few blocks away before crossing the street to where the sidewalk resumed its path, the man stopped and turned back to Peter.
“You know,” he said as if he was saying a last statement. “It would be nice if you could simply take one step and be anywhere you wanted to be, wouldn’t it?” Peter nodded.
“Well, of course,” he answered. “It would be much faster and more efficient.” The man eyed him as if Peter had proven something. “Exactly,” he said, sounding like he knew he’d been disappointed.
“It would be nice,” he repeated. “But would it be better?” Peter was too distracted trying to decide what his answer would be to see the man turn and begin walking across the road. For a minute, he looked up to see the man was making his way off, and then he blinked. The man in the blue suit had vanished.
Standing dazed and caught off guard for the moment, Peter watched the color drift back into place, deprived of all wits. The man had simply disappeared like he hadn’t been there at all! And the conversation didn’t make sense, there didn’t seem to be a point in the walk at all, and now Peter was stuck alone in the middle of the neighborhood. He turned this way and that frantically, panic simply cracking like an egg and dropping onto him like it had been waiting above his head all along.
Which way had they gone from his apartment? How far? Peter didn’t remember. He hadn’t looked at the street signs. Surveying his surroundings, he found that there were no street signs. Wait a minute. How could there be no street signs? This was a neighborhood! Peter’s straw of fright came up short and he made no final attempt to calm himself but instead began to run back in the direction he had come.
He didn’t understand why he was so scared. Peter knew this road as well as seventeen years of experience could give. He was running right along the highway that surrounded the perimeter of the neighborhood, with the wall of hedges across the street following him. Looking back, Peter wondered if he had missed the turn onto his street. There was no one around to warn him to watch for the stop sign. The impact made everything go blank.
Peter stood up, still bewildered. There was no pain in his head or anywhere else. Looking around, he found that the street he was familiar with was no longer there. Everything was white—the ground, the sky, the air. And it was cold. Flurries of snow blew lightly around him, making it impossible to tell which direction was really up or down. A laughing sound came from somewhere, as if from a speaker hidden in the snow. Peter turned around, just to see if there was any landmark he could find. A hand grabbed his, and he started.
“It’s just me, Peter.” Lisa stood beside him, as if she belonged there. But something was wrong. She was made out of gold, solid gold. A yelp came from Peter’s throat. Her eyebrows furrowed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. Peter stared.
“You—you—you’re—” He only managed that.
“What?” she said casually. “Made of gold? Why does that matter? I think I’m made of gold. I’m priceless. And look at your self, Peter.” She held up a mirror to his face and Peter saw something just as crazy. He not only was made of gold, but diamond. He had diamond blue eyes, pink diamond lips, yellow diamond hair, and everything else was encrusted in gold. “You’re worth all the world. And you’re mine.” Lisa said it as if she were simply claiming him just so no one else could touch him first. It didn’t sound happy or sweet. There was no heart in it at all. Peter pushed her away from him when she tried to embrace him.
“I’m not yours.” He said. The words sounded dead and defenseless, with no more life than Lisa’s voice. She simply stood and stared at him angrily. Strangely, Peter could see that she was angry, but he didn’t feel her anger. There was something else he didn’t feel. Putting a hand to his chest, he waited for something—a beat, a rhythm.
It didn’t come.
Peter then understood. Even though he and Lisa appeared to be made of riches, they were both heartless beings. Heartless. The word repeated in his ears over and over again. Heartless, heartless, heartless.
Looking in the mirror again, Peter scowled at his face. Then, before Lisa could say anything or try to stop him he threw the mirror as hard as he could away from him. The crashing sound came from somewhere in the distance, and then Peter finally woke up.
Peter was just walking down the sidewalk a few blocks from his house, casually, with a sort of ho-hum look on his face. Hands in his pockets, nothing was really going through his head. But then he heard soft footsteps behind him, and turning, he saw a man with bronze curly hair and a square jaw smiling at him. His eyes looked deep-set, and yet the pure, bright blue that the sun reflected made them almost pop out. He wore a dark blue business suit that even Jack would be jealous of, but he looked too friendly to have asked for it on his own. Still, the grandeur that emanated from him made Peter feel more nervous than he’d ever felt before. As the man approached, all the color around them drained away, and made Peter all the more spooked.
“Hi, Peter.” The man said. The grace and absoluteness in his voice had an eerie tone to it too, causing every molecule in Peter’s body to chill and attempt to crawl away. The perfection that surrounded this man just made him feel inferior, and meeting him must mean that he’d done something just as unsuitable. Through sheer amazement, Peter was unable to answer.
“Peter,” the man was looking at him.
“Yes?” Peter answered tentatively.
“How’ve you been lately?” The inquiry was nearly a psychiatrist type of question. Still, Peter shrugged as he thought of his answer.
“I guess I’ve been fine. I’m doing well in track and I’ve been getting better in school these past couple weeks. I made Jack happy for once, which would almost have never happened if he hadn’t finally gotten some common sense.” The last remark suddenly seemed to smack him on the mouth. The man didn’t seem to be disturbed by it. Peter found himself looking down at his feet in embarrassment at what he’d just said.
“I have something for you,” the man told him. He instantly turned around and began to walk away. Peter’s curiosity forced him to follow, his feet giving full trust to the other person. It occurred to him then that the man hadn’t introduced himself neither explained why he was there or how he knew Peter. But for the same reason, Peter no longer wished to learn his name or anything else about the man. They simply continued walking.
Coming to the end of a sidewalk some few blocks away before crossing the street to where the sidewalk resumed its path, the man stopped and turned back to Peter.
“You know,” he said as if he was saying a last statement. “It would be nice if you could simply take one step and be anywhere you wanted to be, wouldn’t it?” Peter nodded.
“Well, of course,” he answered. “It would be much faster and more efficient.” The man eyed him as if Peter had proven something. “Exactly,” he said, sounding like he knew he’d been disappointed.
“It would be nice,” he repeated. “But would it be better?” Peter was too distracted trying to decide what his answer would be to see the man turn and begin walking across the road. For a minute, he looked up to see the man was making his way off, and then he blinked. The man in the blue suit had vanished.
Standing dazed and caught off guard for the moment, Peter watched the color drift back into place, deprived of all wits. The man had simply disappeared like he hadn’t been there at all! And the conversation didn’t make sense, there didn’t seem to be a point in the walk at all, and now Peter was stuck alone in the middle of the neighborhood. He turned this way and that frantically, panic simply cracking like an egg and dropping onto him like it had been waiting above his head all along.
Which way had they gone from his apartment? How far? Peter didn’t remember. He hadn’t looked at the street signs. Surveying his surroundings, he found that there were no street signs. Wait a minute. How could there be no street signs? This was a neighborhood! Peter’s straw of fright came up short and he made no final attempt to calm himself but instead began to run back in the direction he had come.
He didn’t understand why he was so scared. Peter knew this road as well as seventeen years of experience could give. He was running right along the highway that surrounded the perimeter of the neighborhood, with the wall of hedges across the street following him. Looking back, Peter wondered if he had missed the turn onto his street. There was no one around to warn him to watch for the stop sign. The impact made everything go blank.
Peter stood up, still bewildered. There was no pain in his head or anywhere else. Looking around, he found that the street he was familiar with was no longer there. Everything was white—the ground, the sky, the air. And it was cold. Flurries of snow blew lightly around him, making it impossible to tell which direction was really up or down. A laughing sound came from somewhere, as if from a speaker hidden in the snow. Peter turned around, just to see if there was any landmark he could find. A hand grabbed his, and he started.
“It’s just me, Peter.” Lisa stood beside him, as if she belonged there. But something was wrong. She was made out of gold, solid gold. A yelp came from Peter’s throat. Her eyebrows furrowed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. Peter stared.
“You—you—you’re—” He only managed that.
“What?” she said casually. “Made of gold? Why does that matter? I think I’m made of gold. I’m priceless. And look at your self, Peter.” She held up a mirror to his face and Peter saw something just as crazy. He not only was made of gold, but diamond. He had diamond blue eyes, pink diamond lips, yellow diamond hair, and everything else was encrusted in gold. “You’re worth all the world. And you’re mine.” Lisa said it as if she were simply claiming him just so no one else could touch him first. It didn’t sound happy or sweet. There was no heart in it at all. Peter pushed her away from him when she tried to embrace him.
“I’m not yours.” He said. The words sounded dead and defenseless, with no more life than Lisa’s voice. She simply stood and stared at him angrily. Strangely, Peter could see that she was angry, but he didn’t feel her anger. There was something else he didn’t feel. Putting a hand to his chest, he waited for something—a beat, a rhythm.
It didn’t come.
Peter then understood. Even though he and Lisa appeared to be made of riches, they were both heartless beings. Heartless. The word repeated in his ears over and over again. Heartless, heartless, heartless.
Looking in the mirror again, Peter scowled at his face. Then, before Lisa could say anything or try to stop him he threw the mirror as hard as he could away from him. The crashing sound came from somewhere in the distance, and then Peter finally woke up.
I made this one because I felt like it!
The song was stuck in my head and we'd just gone over all the cool stuff about volcanoes, so this is what I did!
Monday, January 14, 2008
Booga!!!!
Hello everybody! I want to say that there's nothing much going on because I can't really think of anything to tell you all. Hmmm... I guess I could say that since we've been working on poetry in school I'd like to show you all to some of my work. Easy! Not all of my work is there, but if you go to www.poetry.com, then look up Madison Moss, you'll find at least ten poems to read. If the link doesn't work, scream and curse the computer and keep trying to get through until it works. I had to do it during this past week because I was trying to access one in particular that I wanted to use.
I know I promised everybody to put a whole ton of photos up, but when I have the time and the patience to do it, you'll get a post with one sentence and about a hundred pictures!
I advise anyone interested to take a look at who Venus Hum is and tell me what they think! Waterspryte says it's time for bed, so I'll see ya'll ater!
I know I promised everybody to put a whole ton of photos up, but when I have the time and the patience to do it, you'll get a post with one sentence and about a hundred pictures!
I advise anyone interested to take a look at who Venus Hum is and tell me what they think! Waterspryte says it's time for bed, so I'll see ya'll ater!
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