Lucid Waking

Archive for June, 2010

Night Sky

Since I wrote a long description about it, I won’t say much here. I welcome any interpretations in the comments and if you want to see mine, click the picture.

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Secrets of the Blue House

        “Excuse me,” Nicolas yelled out his car window to the man walking on the board sidewalks beside the street. “Can you tell me how to get to the Fontaine Mansion?”
        The man on the street paused and turned his head slowly. He was a bent and weathered old man whose stature seemed to suggest the later half of his life was spent in a rocking chair or bent over a bar counter.
        “You mean the Blue house?” he asked Nick. His jaw seemed to rotate as he drawled it, as if his mouth needed the circular motion to keep it moving.
        “Sure,” Nick said. He reached over and shut off the air-conditioning.
        “Well, you just have to keep going down this street and then turn left on Chestnut. Chestnut will take you to Prairie (you turn right) and then you want to take Prairie out of the city to Nottingham. I believe you turn right onto Nottingham and continue on down. You can’t miss it. It’s bright blue.”
        “Thanks,” Nick said, putting his hand up in a wave. He placed his hand down on the window button, which lifted the window with a soft whir. Then he turned the air conditioning on, again.

Author’s comments on 389: Ugh. I’ve been bit by the uninspired, unmotivated bug. I think I know where this is going, but I’m not positive. More of the story at a later date.

Happy Birthday, Lucid Waking

It’s hard to imagine that I started writing my first post on LucidWaking.com 4 years ago. The very next post was a republished one from my first Lucid Waking blog that was hosted on blog.com. Since then, I have published 386 poetry and prose works. Some were long, others short, some took several days to write and many newer ones only ten minutes, but I have learned a lot along the way and continue to hone my craft.

Those of you who have been paying attention will notice that I did something different for LW’s birthday this year. Usually I have worked on a different template for my blog (for you luddites, this means its appearance, including pictures and colors) and unveiled it on June 17. This year, I felt uninspired. I had no other ideas for the layout than what had been done. So, I made a banner and plan on keeping the current template for another year. Next year will be year 5, so I should have something special for that occasion.

For now, let’s celebrate another fruitful year of writing and reading.

Living on Clouds

        They had nothing to say to each other. Yet, they managed to say nothing in so many words that they would often find hours of their lives missing and sometimes wonder where the time went. Their marriage didn’t work, unsurprisingly, since it was built on clouds and dreams. She never told him her secret affair and brief rehab for her Tylenol addiction and eating disorder. He never told her that he was a compulsive liar who disliked strong women. She thought his chauvinism was chivalry. All in all, it was a very flawed relationship.
        I loved my parents, but I never liked them. As a teenager, I wanted to be the opposite of my mother and as an adult I didn’t mind sacrificing my complete individuality as long as I could see things better than she did. My father’s strong-willed, “take the bull by the horns” attitude made my relationship with my husband work. I wish my parents could have seen my accomplishments and how I took their traits and made them strengths, not weaknesses. But they’re too busy being superficial with other people to notice a self-sufficient adult like me. Its a burden of having parents with their heads in the clouds, but with my feet firmly planted on the ground, I don’t mind.

Author’s comments on post 388: Just writing. I’m pleased with the narrator’s tone, overall, but I’m not sure how I’m pleased with the subject matter. Unfortunately, I can imagine a lot of people are like her parents, but I’ll remain optimistic since they’re no one I know. Mom and Dad, if you’re reading this, don’t think this is how I see you (because I don’t. At all). It’s just a story.

1949 and Chillin’(for lack of better titles)

Sketching practice.

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Last Mission

        She didn’t hate anything more than she hated him. She hated that he insist they meet at his swimming pool where he often spent a sunny summer day resting in the sun. She knew that he did this to throw her off track because, no matter his age, he was young, well-built and generally attractive. He was arrogant, selfish, and sophisticated, too, which didn’t add up to much in her book—though sophistication was never a bad thing.
        “Samantha,” he said when she had arrived at their pool-side rendezvous, “Why are you late?”
        “Traffic was pretty bad near downtown and—”
        “Samantha,” he said more forcefully.
        “I’m sorry, sir.”
        “You’re hanging by a limb all ready. If I were you I wouldn’t be late to something as important as this.”
        “I’m sorry, sir.”
        “Since you’ve gotten such glowing recommendations from the other team members you were with on this last mission, I’ll give you another chance. Find the central enemy base and report back to Washington. Do not infiltrate, do not adopt vigilantism, do I make myself clear?”
        “Perfectly.”
        “All right. We’re done.”
        She promptly turned on her heel and left. There was no way she was staying longer than she could help it.
        He waited for her to go before picking up the rotary phone lying on the table by his chair.
        “Well, she accepted the challenge. Now we just have to wait for her to get caught…Yes, I know this is risky, but she’ll either find it or get caught by the other side…Of course she hasn’t caught on that this is most likely a suicide mission…Well you should have thought of that before you tried saving her from that royal screw-up she made last week…Since you’re my best man, I’ll ignore that remark…Yes, that’s all.”
        He hung up the phone with a smirk.

Author’s comments on post 387: At the end, she succeeds and keeps her job and her life. FYI. I’m not sure what I was trying to accomplish, except to write something short and precise. I’ve been working on some longer stories to try to practice "show, don’t tell." For short shorts, that doesn’t work. Hopefully you still get a sketch of the characters.

Updates and Reassessments

I decided to practice drawing by doing a sketch every other day, which means:

1. There is a new page specifically for sketches since they won’t be finished enough to be put up in “Paintings and Drawings” page.
2. These will be given their own posts when I can get to it.

Also, I’ve been practicing my writing on the days I am not drawing. Unfortunately, sometimes the work I write is unfinished or not of sufficient quality (in my opinion) to be published. That’s why it has been quiet around here. I hope to have something up this week, but I might just succeed in getting the sketches posted.

Thank you for your patience. I wore out my muse in March by doing different stories every day and I’m trying my best. Hopefully the artwork will tide you over until I get a written post done.