This is a beautiful piece of music from two very beautiful and talented people. Certainly two worth following so you'll keep listening to some wonderful tunes and see some gorgeous artwork, and you won't be surprised when they win a Grammy or an Oscar for animation or something.
standing at the door
waiting for epiphanies,
for the road ahead.
at my crossroads now,
rivers to cross, roads to take,
changes i must make.
unclear futures before me,
a blurred and hazy sight i see,
like that flutter of wings.
seeing monarchs,
robins, or hummingbirds?
fiery distant flash.
monarchs travel,
fiery mass, no sense of one, but,
never alone.
a loner robin,
travels far and wide and long,
singing pretty songs.
feisty hummingbird,
flutters at every flower,
is a survivor.
seeing monarchs,
robins, or hummingbirds?
now, which one am i?
also, I need glasses.
For the IndieInk Writing Challenge this week, runaway sentence. challenged me with "Seeing monarchs, robins, or hummingbirds?" and I challenged Kelly Garriott Waite with "take a good quote you like from something sci-fi, and use it to make something that's anything but sci-fi"
That silver .45 pointed at him was big, really big. It was big even when it wasn't pointed at him, now it seemed like an artillery barrel. Or maybe it seemed that way because of all the snow in his system. He probably should have waited till he got home to snort the stuff. Being only marginally coherently aware of one's surroundings probably wasn't the best state to try some Matrix style bullet dodging. He was vaguely aware of some kind of sound leaving his lips. Some kind of mumbling. He thought he could make out "pliss" and 'Nu". The long black shadow behind the gun hardly made any noise, except when the gun fired. Then it seemed like his ears exploding was the only thing in the world and he felt his eyes close in spite of himself.
Dylan felt the darkness fading slowly. The world was slowly coming back into focus. His senses slowly started coming back to him. He was still in the dingy old warehouse where he always made his score. Only it was empty. "Well that's not entirely true." he thought in wonder. The warehouse might have been empty of people, his dealer wasn't there, the goons who jumped the place weren't there, but now he was aware of everything else that he never noticed. The beams of sunlight that came in through the cracks in the roof, the little bits of dust that sparkled in the sunshine, the gleam on the staked metal sheets, the peeling rust on the old car in the corner, the little bugs walking along the rafters oblivious to his existence. He looked down and saw a hole in his chest the size of quarter and a huge red stain all over his shirt. "Wow that's some good stuff this time." he said to himself. He couldn't even feel anything. In any case he figured it was time to get out of here before the cops showed up and started to move.
As he pushed open to the door to this rundown warehouse in the bad end of city, he felt a gust of wind hit him. Wind with the soft fresh scent of trees and the open fields. As he walked out he found himself facing a treeline stretching to either side as far as he could see with trees that were the tallest things he had ever seen. Their leaves emerald green glistening in the sunlight, the bark so brown it was almost red and rich as chocolate. Beyond the treeline he could see a field of green, and out there near the horizon, he could see a little school. He stopped for a moment. In the very back of his mind a little whisper was saying this wasn't some ordinary trip. But the surreal landscape didn't worry him. It felt familiar, it felt like home. It was home, long ago. He didn't think twice and just walked right out and into the greenery.
As the calm winds and sweet scent of the greenery lulled his senses. He heard laughter from somewhere. A child's laughter. He turned around and saw movement in the grasses. A little figure not more taller than his knees suddenly appeared. Her brown eyes sparkled like gemstones, her hair in little dark curls that bounced as she skipped, and her smile shone brighter than a row of pearls as she asked him 'Aren't you coming to school silly?' and she held out her hand. He placed his hand in hers without a moments hesitation as it seemed like the most natural thing to do. He felt that little whisper in the back of his mind telling him how silly it must look for an almost-man to be skipping along a grassy field holding hands with a little girl. But that's exactly what Dylan and Lucia did, just like they always did on the way to school.
to be continued...
For the IndieInk Writing Challenge this week, Head Ant challenged me with "Taking inspiration from "An Occurence at Owl Creek Bridge," describe what goes through your mind in the last few moments before death. " and I challenged Chaos Mandy with "the flickering lightbulb".
I came up with a lot more than I thought I would. So instead of one ponderously long post, gonna break it into pieces. Hopefully something good will come out of it. Also I should say this is not me, not the real me anyway. Sorry Head Ant. I thought this might be a more entertaining interpretation than boring old me. Thank you for the great prompt.
Here I am again, at your door. It's as almost as if I've never left. No matter where I go I always end up here no matter how hard I try. It's like all roads lead to Rome, all rivers fall to the sea, all the birds fly south and my heart always comes back to you.
We've had our ups, we've had our downs, we had a great great run. So many memories, good and bad. So much happy and so much sad. Every moment spent flying sparks at each other, on the flipside, had a moment of quiet bliss, nestled in loving arms. We were together on that long and winding road so long. For every curve and bend, there would always be that long stretch of straight and narrow, where I'd watch the sun shine through your hair and all would be right with the world as we laughed and exploded in happiness hurtling down that road of life with the cool wind strong in our faces.
But I always took the back roads, so many bends and twists and turns, so hard to keep straight, so hard to keep upright, when what I should have given you was the cosy smooth sail you came for. You didn;t sign up for that. You didn't ride with me for the whiplash, and the crash. That's when you left. That's when I went on alone.
And I did go on. I tried. But with noone to guide me along, I got lost so many times. Trudging on through darkness and fog, and through the rain and the storms. But I kept going. I kept going on because no matter where I was, this life, this long winding road I'm on, it always comes back to you. I always come back to you. Because its always been you and you are always where my life will lead to.
So please, don't keep me waiting here. Lead me to your door.
For the Indie Ink Writing Challenge this week, Sheree challenged me with "The 'Long and Winding Road' by the Beatles is the inspiration for your story." and I challenged Major Bedhead with "the dog's meow".
This really didn't come out like I hoped it would. I got a major dose of writer's block on the prompt. Ultimately i just started typing, with no filters, almost on the end of the deadline and this is what came out of it.
I missed the first Pecha Kucha. Primarily because I had no idea what in blue blazes it really was. The first event was, to my memory, in the middle of a sudden flurry of semi-famous DJ events with weird names from Europe, the Med.. maybe Narnia? In the end I missed out on what must have been a truly unique event of creative ideas and their creators. That's what this is apparently. A meeting of minds, a show of ideas.
Pecha Kucha Colombo is an informal and fun gathering where creative people get together and share their ideas, works, and thoughts in the Pecha Kucha 20×20 format. Drawing its name from the Japanese term for the sound of “chit chat”, it rests on a presentation format that is based on a simple idea: 20 images x 20 seconds, where 20 images are shown, each for 20 seconds.
With Pecha Kucha now happening in over 400 cities around the world we have discovered that most cities, not just in Colombo, have virtually no public spaces where people can show and share their work in relaxed way.
The atmosphere at the event is urban, chic, and chilled out with the warehouse space filled with relaxing benches, a beer Stand and a ‘Kade’ themed food stall. The focal point is the large screen where the presentations are made and what finally brings this evening together is the exposure of undiscovered creativity from all industries: arts, fashion, photography, and design.
Pecha Kucha Colombo is a non -profit initiative and all proceeds of each of the four events will be donated to a specifically selected charity.
Unlike the famous TED events, Pecha Kucha is a bottom-up event, where its not the proven experts in a field but the ones low on the totem pole, the ones that have a great idea but rarelyt recieve a platform to express it, that do the talking. Which is something to be appreciated I think. Not to mention the abbreviated 20x20 format keeping things alive and not boring.
So if you're in the area, which is to say you should make sure that you're in the area, check it out.
Volume 2 will take place on the 23rd of October 2011 at the Warehouse Project in Maradana. Tickets are priced at only Rs. 100 and will be available at the gate.
For more details, facebook, twitter, youtube and on how you can present your ideas, go here / වැඩි විස්තර ටිකක්, මුණුපොත, ට්විටර් , යුටියුබ් බලන්න, තමන්ගේ අදහස් ප්රකාශ කරන්න පුළුවන් කොහොමද කියල දැනගන්න, යන්න ඕනෙ මෙන්න මෙතනට;
