ATalkHappy Easter everyone! I feel like... I just want to talk today. Because I think there's things I've learned and feel and think that sometimes I just want to say.
Let's start with stories.
What I find great about any form of storytelling is how honest it is. There is no other form of shared knowledge that can teach us how to live our lives better. None. That being said, we see stories in everything. We look at a tree with a fence grown into it, and think of when the fence must have been built, who may have built it, etc. We see a couple arguing on the street and ponder as to what could have gotten them to this point. We hear a snapping twig in the woods, and plan our escape route from whatever magnificent beast lurks in the brush! As human beings, we LOVE stories. But why?
We love stories because they teach us how to live. Think about any good movie, book, or other story. It should have moved you in some way. Some stories teach us how to deal with the intense hardship
So I visited PIXAR today!It was awesome! 8DSo I visited PIXAR today! in Personal More Like This
We spent about two hours there with one of their story artists, Adrian Molina. *u* Although the first 30 minutes we just all sat and talked and ate delicious burritos underneath a gorgeous painting from Toy Story 3.
Then he looked at my portfolio, which he liked quite a bit. He said I was twice as good as he was at my age, but I ought to loosen up my figures. Then he looked at my sketchbook, which he was super impressed with. He said I should just make my portfolio look more like my sketchbook, and I'd be a shoe-in at CalARTs. xD So that was super cool! He's super nice and says to email him with his portfolios or any art or questions and he'll give me suggestions. c:
After lunch he showed us a little bit of the studio (although we weren't allowed anywhere with actual work going on, which was too bad). But I got to see TONS of concept work for Brave, which looks pretty cool! I can't really disclose any info about it obviously, but it definitely looks a little better a
Rainy Day Waltzi.Rainy Day Waltz in Free Verse More Like This
The missles fall
like rain in a water-starved world
quenching thirst with blood
that runs wasted in the gutters.
The rounds fire in 3/4 time
while civilians waltz delicately in circles,
brushing steps with Death and his dance partner
The grenades flash like the snap of a camera.
With the click of a pin
Time freezes -
caught between two futures.
In one I die;
in the other
I wish I had.
Periwinkle TeaIt's only about 1AM but it feels so much later and I don't know why.Periwinkle Tea in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I get nights like that sometimes, especially when I've spent so much of it reading and everything I've ben reading on dA tonight has been soft or sad or subtle or bittersweet or any combination of those things and I'm typing this with my entire left hand and only two fingers of my right because the thumb and forefinger still have residue from the bag of potato chips I can't stop nibbling on.
I'm out of tea and this makes me sad because I don't really want to make more this late but maybe I will anyway because I'd like to trade in my potato chips for chocolate sticks. I think I'd like something warm for the next few hours.
My tea mug is periwinkle blue.
There must be a perfect ratio of tea to sugar because everyone else seems able to find it but me. I kept putting in spoonfuls of sugar but it never got any sweeter until it got to the range where I knew I really didn't need that much in my system but it's not my fault t
55 Word Stories - Part One1. Roulette55 Word Stories - Part One in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Logic dictated that he had to die eventually. By bullet or bullet train, he didn't care. And end was an end.
He's heard of this condition before Quantum Immortality. One multiverse incarnate that would live forever. Him. It was just his luck that he would be saddled with eternity.
He sighed and reloaded the gun.
2. The Chase
There is no scientific name for the delay between lightning and thunder. The light flashes across the empty fields of gold followed by the crash of sound racing to keep up, to catch its always faster partner. The thunder never quite reaches its elusive lover.
I guess what I'm trying to say is come back.
Roy G. Biv hated his name. He was not, nor had he ever been, a colorful man. His gray eyes were the same shade as the gray suit he wore to hide the gray hair that fell out and stuck to his jacket.
The gray clouds gathered overhead as he pulled out a gray umbrella.
Hollow SuicideI love this world.Hollow Suicide in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I love it even when it's so beautifully achingly lonely that I can feel the drum of my pulse throbbing just under my skin, a constant reminder of the hollow center the veins connect back to.
Sometimes I think I want to build my future in the forest because the trees are so lovely but then I realize that I would be missing out on the vast, limitless blue expanses of oceanwater and the sound of the waves lapping at the shoreline. And then I think of the view from the mountains, or the honey-golden tones of the desert at sunset, the neon lights of the great cities, all the beautiful places in the world I have to choose from, but which one is the most beautiful in the end?
I think about the end of the world, how the forests would burn and the seas would dry up and the mountains would crumble and the cities would fall, and the destruction would still be hauntingly beautiful because it's a reminder of our own impermanence. A gentle memory of that faint
Joy in Sorrowi.Joy in Sorrow in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
A simple backflip
to tease the audience now
take a deeper breath.
A beat of silence;
the audience hanging on.
The clowns know you're there.
Do not twist that way
before the tall man in black
walking on crutches.
Look up but not down.
Let go if you want, but the
net won't save you now.
flip together in perfect
A railway station.
A goodbye, a torn letter.
The snowfall was never so
It's There When You Aren't LookingEliza slapped her library card on to the faux-wood counter. "I want this one!"It's There When You Aren't Looking in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Patrons usually rang the little silver bell when no one was attending to the checkout, but Eliza couldn't see it; the bell was kept out of the reach of five year olds for a reason. She was about to yell again when the librarian bustled around the corner; the autographed Hemingway would have to wait.
"Well hello dearie. Don't you look cute in your karate uniform."
Eliza squeezed her doll in one arm and put the other one on her hip. "I want that one," she said pointing to the book while tossing her blonde ringlets.
"Quantum Immortality," the librarian read. "An Observational Study of Universal Mechanations. Are you sure you want this one love?"
"I want that one!"
"Well alright then," she scanned the idle card. Then scanned it again just to be sure.
"I'm afraid you can't have this one dearie."
"Is your mother nearby?"
"Well it says here," she indicated the screen. "That your card has a thirty doll