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About Varied / Hobbyist Kaboodleschmitt28/Male/Canada Recent Activity
Deviant for 9 Years
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Wizard's Tower - Front Door Detail by Kaboodleschmitt Wizard's Tower - Front Door Detail :iconkaboodleschmitt:Kaboodleschmitt 0 2 Star Wars WIP by Kaboodleschmitt Star Wars WIP :iconkaboodleschmitt:Kaboodleschmitt 2 1
“There were nine of us,” he says.  Like I don't know that already.  I was one of those nine; I was there.  He doesn't really remember, though.  Every time he tells the story, he treats me like I'm someone new, someone who didn't share every experience, every horrific moment with him.  But I was there.  I did see what he saw, and I know.
He grips my arm.  “Tony, stop,” I say, attempting to wrest control of my wrist back from him.  “I know, Tony.  I know because I was there, remember?”
Tony doesn't stop.  If anything he holds on tighter.  Can he really not remember that I was one of the nine people he's talking about?
“There were nine of us, two of us were just there for the ride, to help out in case things needed fixing, but then there were the science guys; four of them, and the flight crew (two again), and then there was the cook, cause you know there's nothing quite like a voyage without
:iconkaboodleschmitt:Kaboodleschmitt 1 1
Ethan hurtled down the corridor, his breath coming in gasps of sharp air, the smell he had grown to identify with life aboard a spaceship.  Normally its sanitary cleanness, close to an antiseptic scent was almost comforting, reminding him where his home currently was, but now as it came tumbling down his throat it left a screaming trail of ragged pain behind it, and when it reached his lungs it burned.  This, he knew, was an effect of breathing so much of the air so quickly; it was meant for regular, methodical, measured breathing, and had been tweaked until it was the perfect cocktail of bacteria-fighting agents, oxygen, and other elements designed to enhance the brain's function while reducing the quantity of air the body needed, thereby conserving air for long trips in deep space.
Now, however, he ran.  That his thoughts dwelt so much on the air he was breathing was a sign that it was having its effect on him: breathing too much of the stuff too quickly had the opposi
:iconkaboodleschmitt:Kaboodleschmitt 0 0
The Reluctant Fighter
The reluctant fighter stands quietly.
He'll be ready in an instant to fight,
Just give him the proper motivation, you'll see!
The reluctant fighter stands for a long while
And then he sits.  The proper motivation is lacking.
One day, he dreams, incentive will arrive.
Evil men seeking to harm those he loves,
Or a dramatic event - someone trying
To steal something - or someone! - from him, perhaps.
Dramatic events are not as common as in movies.
So it is that while the reluctant fighter waits,
Everything he has worth fighting for slips away;
Is lost without a fight.
It was not dramatic, and so
He remained the reluctant fighter and did not fight,
But told himself he would, with the right motivation.
It never came, and so he lost all he had.
I feel a lot like the reluctant fighter sometimes.
:iconkaboodleschmitt:Kaboodleschmitt 1 0
I strive.
I have striven.
Yesterday I strove.
All my life I have striven to portray a feeling
Exactly as I felt it.
I've striven to make a photocopy of
A moment of my life (or thoughts),
And place it, in words, on the page.
This, to me, is true art.
This, to me, is what artists ought to strive for.
This, I believe, is impossible.
I fail.
I have failed.
Yesterday I failed.
All my life I have failed, yet
I strive.
:iconkaboodleschmitt:Kaboodleschmitt 1 3
Joy and beauty
Love and life
These things are captured
In a moment
In the smile of a child.
This moment is now frozen,
Embedded in my mind forever.
It has a certain kind of power,
As though the fact that the joy was pure,
And existed entirely in the moment,
Makes it strong.
It is a strong memory I now carry,
Ready at a moment's notice to be called forth:
My patronus charm against the negative within.
It is a patronus charm that is
Joy and beauty,
Love and life.
:iconkaboodleschmitt:Kaboodleschmitt 0 2
Looking back on gravestones,
Those playful things of old,
Reminds me of my past
And things I'd tried to hold fast.
With a swift, cool wind
And a brisk, warm walk
Any battered old building
Becomes food for my thoughts.
A graveyard is a churchyard and
A churchyard's by a church and
The church I walked past
(that battered old building)
Had no graveyard that I saw.
Yet that church is a church,
And churches have churchyards
And churchyards are graveyards
And graveyards have gravestones
And so it is that I contemplate gravestones
Without having seen any.
:iconkaboodleschmitt:Kaboodleschmitt 0 0
El Matador
"Take the bull by its horns,"
The wild man said,
"Else you'll find yourself worn,
Or else you'll be dead."
I nodded assent, not then knowing
The meaning he meant with his words.
I nodded assent, then believing
I'd heard all there was to be heard.
The wild man entered the ring,
His slender frame ne'er quivering.
His hands did not shake
And his eyes were on fire,
Ad when the bell sounded -- ding!
He took the bull by its horns.
"Take the bull by its horns," he'd said.
All my life's been reserved, passive at best.
What if his saying
Was meant for the heart
That lives in my chest?
I've never lived half so bright
As he did that glorious night
When he took the bull by its stony head
And stood up triumphant, not dead.
:iconkaboodleschmitt:Kaboodleschmitt 0 0
Lament of the Statue
They call me a statue,
And a statue I am.
I was made long before you
In '53.  My name is Sam.
I never knew the one after whom
I was modelled, and I still don't know
How accurate I am.  But there's no room
For doubts in my head.  No room at all, no.
Still, I'm a happy statue, if lonely at times.
I have no friends; in lieu of them I have my mimes.
My mimes are birds: a flock or throng.
They mimic reality for me;
That reality for which I long.
It is my wish that it I could see.
I cannot.
I am a neglected statue,
And have been so for years.
Was bought and brought in splendour here;
Now guard a broken tomb.
A statue I may be, but
I must have a grander meaning
Than guarding an empty tomb...
Mustn't I?
:iconkaboodleschmitt:Kaboodleschmitt 1 1
Languor call I the river
That washes its banks nearby.
A single draught, a sip is all
It takes to forget the 'why'.
The stream to rapids dread
Flows placidly, peacefully,
Luring the unsuspecting
To their end: nothingness.
I've seen them pass,
Those few who pass,
And are not drowned at once.
They pass, are gone,
And, going, come not back.
The river Languor is wide and deep and long.
It passes borders of knowledge and thought.
Its silent waters play a soft, sleepy tune,
Alluring to the minds of men.
It whispers 'forget', or 'purposeless',
Or perhaps it intimates that its road
Is the easiest road to follow,
Not mentioning the slow and stifling death it offers;
Death is harder than sleep for men to swallow.
:iconkaboodleschmitt:Kaboodleschmitt 1 1
The Wind
The wind has always been my friend
From my beginning to my end.
Its breath against my face
Is inspiration nothing can erase.
Whene'er I feel the wind begin
I follow it in my mind's eye,
Past deserts, forests, or the kin
Of eternity itself: the sea, ne'er dry.
Sometimes I think the wind lives in me,
Lifts me up, gives my thoughts beauty,
And fills my head with grandiose visions
Of royalty and beauty, and other things that are not-quite-me.
Oft have I felt the wind 'gainst my face
And thought myself in another place,
'til, wakng as from a trance,
I discover the place I was in is here within,
And my world is filled until it spins,
And, inside my head, I dance.
They say you cannot see the wind.
They say the wind is meaningless.
Yet I tell you now, without the wind,
These words you read would not exist,
And so I state, here at the end,
The wind has always been my friend.
:iconkaboodleschmitt:Kaboodleschmitt 2 1
"We deal with our own."
It was the captain speaking.  He was always saying something or other, and he always expected people to listen to him.  They normally did, too.  This time we all did.
Normally he'd be saying something nicer.  Normally it'd be 'we take care of our own', or 'stick together, boys, and we'll make it through this yet' if we were in a particularly tough spot.  Tonight it was 'we deal with our own'.  I'd known it was coming; we all had.  Didn't mean we had to like it.
I split off from the others as was my job.  I was a specialist.  Recon: see and don't get seen, that's me.  I'm good at my job.  I fly my waxwing faster and harder than anyone else – I also removed most of the armaments that the machinas come with back when I first got the bird.  She flew true for me; there wasn't a bird in the sky that could catch mine.  I also spent some
:iconkaboodleschmitt:Kaboodleschmitt 0 2
Vampire WIP
    Karl had been sitting on the little hill overlooking Valley Graveyard since the moon had come out, and it was now past its zenith in the sky.  Inside that graveyard were the quiet voices of the dead, speaking to him in silent protest of their helpless state.  You live, he imagined them saying, so live for us; avenge us; do what we now cannot.  Valley Graveyard, he knew, had seen more than its share of murder victims and war veterans.  If their voices could be heard, what would they say?  Would they indeed cry out for vengeance over the lives they could no longer lead?  Would they care that their mortality had been called due earlier than nature intended, or did such things no longer have any meaning for them?
    Perhaps they no longer cared.  Perhaps the dead held no grudges; perhaps they had no need to.  He hoped that was so; every time he came here, a part of
:iconkaboodleschmitt:Kaboodleschmitt 0 0
Something stirs within the deep beneath this town of ours;
I felt it in the graveyard, in the clay-yard of the dead.
It stirs and, stirring, wakes itself, and wakes itself for hours
As though it finds amusement in the space within its head.
I felt it in the stable, down beneath the straw and hay.
It felt as though it might then show and give itself away
But though I searched, I found it not, and felt it disappear
As though it cared that there I dared to make myself draw near.
My blood is ice within my veins and still I cannot tell
What form of thing, or man, or beast, lives down beneath our floors.
I thought I saw it, one dark night, climb down, down, down the well,
The face I saw, a visage dread, glanced at my red-stained doors.
One day it comes for me, I know, and, knowing, I am calm.
It saw my face and must erase my knowledge from the world.
Something stirs within the deep beneath this town of ours;
It stirs for me, and, breaking free, it comes to claim the same.
No long-dead king,
:iconkaboodleschmitt:Kaboodleschmitt 0 2
In Memoriam
Oh how I wish that I could be
A highschool student such as thee
And not a man such as me
Whom you now before you see.
Or yet, perhaps, I'd like to say
"I have not wished my life away
On silly thoughts, 'till old and grey
I stand...  though such a man I am today"
But yet...
I fear I've wished my life away,
And yet I live, alive, not dead.
While blood yet flows there must be hope of change...
But yet again I think on me and all the worlds I thought could be, and how, somehow, unerringly, I find they fall away from me until I'm left with endless sprees of long-forgotten elegies which fly away, leaving me without the possibility of change.
:iconkaboodleschmitt:Kaboodleschmitt 3 5

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Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
Nom da name: Kaboodleschmitt
Fire and Ice. That's right.
My apologies. I don't sprechen your speaky :/
That is to say...
"Par les vous englais?"

Current Residence: Ontario, Canada
deviantWEAR sizing preference: Medium, I suppose
Print preference: Cursive is fine, too
Favourite genre of music: Soft rock? RAP DIE NOW... Techno? DIE COUNTRY DIE... Normal rock? Depends, really.
Favourite photographer: Someone who's really, really good at photography
Favourite style of art: Fantasy/sci-fi
Operating System: Windows XP
MP3 player of choice: WMP or XMPlay
Wallpaper of choice: ...Because I keep it the same. Which is to say, it changes. Right now it's actually XP defaul
Skin of choice: Epidermis
Favourite cartoon character: KIMPOSSIBLE... Just kidding. Buzz Lightyear? I dunno
Personal Quote: "The secret of living a long, happy life is not dying when you're three years old."
So it's November again.  Uh-huh.  It's that time of the year that we writerly folk sharpen our pens and fill our pencils with ink for NaNoWriMo.  I first participated in NaNoWriMo back in 2009 when I was a young university student.  I thought 'bah!  What's the worst that can happen?'  At that point, of course, I got snowed under by essays that needed writing, midterms that needed taking (and some of which needed studying, as well), etc.  I did end up completing the 50,000 required words, but only just barely, and only because I wrote something like 26,000 words on the last weekend in November.  Yes, I was writing literally day and night for it, but I did get it done.

After that, I tried my hand at it a couple more times, but never got off the ground with it - things always come up, especially in November, it seems.  I wasn't too bothered by this, though, because I'd won in '09, so hey, that counts for something, right?

Well, this year I'm giving it a go again.  Currently, I'm fairly far behind on the word count, however I do have confidence I can make it up with a couple good, uninterrupted writing sessions.

So that's my plan.  Write the novel, get the novel past 50,000 words.  Who knows, I may even /finish/ a novel this year, and not just match the word count requirements!  For anyone interested, here's the novel on the NaNoWriMo site:…

Also, if you're particularly kooky people and you wish to read the novel, here it is on google docs:…

So how are your NaNoWriMo entries going this year?
  • Listening to: Bizarre Love Triangle - Frente
  • Drinking: Lemonade


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Twimper Featured By Owner Jun 25, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
*poke and runs away*

stefanienicholas Featured By Owner Jan 12, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Still around here Stuart? I hope you're well :)
Kaboodleschmitt Featured By Owner Sep 12, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Semi-sorta, I am indeed!  I've been posting a fair amount of poetry lately, actually, and sorta browsing around, but making sure to avoid the 'DA sucks your soul and all your time' thing...
Kiravorn Featured By Owner Oct 19, 2011
*pester pester* = )
GummyBearKar Featured By Owner Jul 9, 2011  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Give ♥ This♥ To ♥ The ♥ Twelve ♥ Nicest ♥ People ♥ You ♥ Know ♥ If ♥ You ♥ Get ♥ Five ♥ Back ♥ You ♥ Must ♥ Be ♥ Perfect ♥
lillies4luv Featured By Owner Apr 15, 2011   Photographer
Happy birthday for 19 days ago, hope you had a good one. :) :party:
Maria-92 Featured By Owner Mar 27, 2011
Happy Birthday!! :party:
Twimper Featured By Owner Mar 27, 2011  Hobbyist General Artist
Twimper Featured By Owner Mar 20, 2011  Hobbyist General Artist
*poke* hey KS ^_^ how are you? I’ve come to the conclusion i don’t get to bug you as much as i should my old friend ^_^ so hear i am bugging.
Kiravorn Featured By Owner Mar 16, 2011
Look look. I've posted a comment!!
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