A Story: Part 1

The night is cold but the sun from the morning is burned into my skin.  The harsh wind bites at my bare arms and hands wrapped around my chest.  I am finally at peace; I have no need to be afraid.  A fragrant breeze swirls my hair enveloping my face. I can smell the salty sea as it ripples around my slowly sinking feet.  The faint music trickles in as I sway to constant beat of the drums. Suddenly I hear crunching sand.  Footsteps are coming towards me slowly; however I am calm and relaxed.  Looking over my right shoulder I see the dark figure sarcastically tiptoeing forward. Giggling I turn back to wide sea and wait for the strong arms to surround me. A warm breath brushes against my neck and a face cradles itself on my shoulder.  We sigh together and stare out at the sea pausing and enjoying the harmony.

Beep!! Beep!! Beep!!

That stupid alarm clock! The pounding noise constantly disrupting my dreams.  Strange this dream was different today.  I am always on the beach but there is never anyone with me. That figure so dark and unrecognizable…

Beep! Beep! Beep!

“I’m gonna kill you,” as I hurl it at the wall; I try to enjoy the last few moments of bliss.  But instead…Bleep! Blerp…Blrrp…the dying alarm clock still attempts to ruin my morning. I sweep back the covers pulling myself up, as the clock is finally dead.  Hallelujah! Collapsing back and staring at my bland ceiling there are pounding steps coming up the stairs.

My heart races as I hold my breath hoping those steps keep moving. I perch myself on the bed while beads of sweat trickle down my face; I am ready to act if need be.

The steps hesitate outside my door…

“One…Two…Three…” hoping the steps continue on as I count to 10 in my head.

The shadow seeping in from over the door seems to soak into the floor boards trying to enter.

“Six…Seven…” I can feel my face ready to explode because lack of oxygen…

The steps walk past my door and continues on to the next room.  I release my breath and gasp for more air, still perched in case the steps come back.

As the steps continue to stop outside each door you hear a knob squeal. It must be at least four doors down.  I know the child inside that room is whimpering, because I have been that child.  The door squeaks open and then closed; suddenly a chilling scream fills the hall.

I have been that child at least I know the child is still alive.  If there had been no screams that would have meant death.  Least with a scream it means they have taken the child’s only precious possession…

His dreams.

A Story: Part 2

See It Through Your Mind

Dismaland

Dismaland

            Dismaland draws the intrigued to its entrance.  You enter through the winding roped off line; to guide yourself through a puzzle to the entrance.  You cross the threshold of reality into art, cloaked in a theme of gray uncertainties.  You glide along the cracked stone pavement. Inhaling dust as you kick it up into the air with your feet.  The bare but busy landscape, is laid out with hints of nature but mostly metal.  You draw near to a blue and white stripped booth.  The starch material hanging so stiffly, if you touched it would feel like a wall. The words above the opening reads, Information, but no one inhabits the dark space. However, there are many cultures surrounding you all the same.  While drifting through a contemporary composition of art exposing every detail to the beautiful confusion.

            Continuing towards the towering red Ferris wheel in the background.  You pass by a couple eating at a table.  The fragrance of coffee lingers under your nose as you leave them.  You follow the wide arch in the pavement.  You stop and gaze at the police van perched in the middle of the pond.  The van is being contained by the water, like its own motionless chaos.  Farther in the distance a sculptured horse, appears like it will gallop away into the clouds.  The standstill Ferris wheel is almost humming like it is alive, wanting to move. Rust, moss, and dirt hovers under your nose as you lean you head back.  Shadowing your eyes, looking upwards, you cannot see the farthest seat. Only a brief moment of hesitation that there even is one.  You follow the trees that outline the pond. Coming to three large wide steps, in front of you stands the greying relics of the castle.  The incomplete architecture shows the bones of the walls and the inner workings of the mechanics.  This park is not incomplete; it leaves you with the chance to finish the details in your mind. Dismaland gives you mixed emotions as you complete your journey and return the way you came.  Relaxed, calm, because of the effortless experience.  Leaving you wanting more, like you missed something.

Concert in the Park

 

photo by. Emily2Jane- “Sunset in the Park”

I recently went to the Cal Phil Featival on the Green at the Santa Anita Race Track, and listened to some great music. It was by the Cal Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Victor Vener . It was amazing; I had a great time with friends. They played the Imperial March, the Jurassic park theme, a romantic tango, Russin music decribed to us like ” a grizzly bear on point.” For the Russin piece I kept imaging the Fantasia hippo scene, but with a grizzly bear instead.

The lead violinist was amazing!! He was creating art with just his fingers; he changed the way I see and hear instrumental music.  Now I see colors and hear figures dancing through the notes. I want to try listening to instrumental music and have a blank canvas and see what I come up with. Art comes in all different forms. Like drawing, painting, sculpture, dancing, creating music, doing digital art, and singing. I can do five of the seven. The other two will come with time.

Well while the music was going on I was creating digital art.  I have an attention problem. I tend to forget what I am listening to or my mind will wonder into a dream like wonderland. So to help myself, and like many other artists do, I doodle or create art as I listen. It helps me focus. So I was taking pictures and the changing the effects to create art. I will in the future paint from these prints because they are my own. But my inspiration comes from the amazing music by the Cal Philharmonic Orchestra. Thank you.

One of my pictures

photo by Emily2Jane- “Crystalized Candles”

 

Cuddling With A….

Imagine this:

It’s late at night and you are terribly tired but you can’t sleep. So you turn your light on, at the foot of the bed, so that you are not in full darkness. You decide to watch a tv show until you can drift into sleep. You feel something on your leg, but you assume it cannot be anything so you kick it off with your foot. Again this thing drifts up to your knee, but again it must just be some dust flittering through the air caused by the fans. You are slowly drifting off, but still cannot quite manage to sleep. This time you feel the “dust” on your face just above your eye brow. You swat it away with the your hand because it tickles.  Still sweet slumber does not come so you decide to change tactics. Maybe playing bejeweled on your phone will change the outcome, because you know it will be within minutes. You sit up and put your iPad away, reach down to turn off your light, and stop. There chilling on your calf is a…cockroach.

I jumped from bed screaming. I had been cuddling with a cockroach!! Remember time has gone by, it is now like 12:30 a.m. My sister had maybe been asleep for ten minutes  and she jolts awake to find me standing stiff and out of my bed. I cannot believe I had a cockroach running up and down my legs and on my face. She leans out over the bar looks down at me, and I explained my problem. She gets two looks on her face, one is eww! and the the other comes when I say I am going to go sleep in the living room. This look is, “don’t leave, because then it will come to me instead!” This whole time the cockroach is just chilling on my pillow; mental note change that pillow case.

I leave for a minute and bring back a wad of paper towels…enough to cover my hand and give myself enough cushion, so I don’t feel the cockroach crush under my palm. Then the chase begins, I charge at it on my bed, and it scurries away under my dresser. So, I kick at my shoes, and it scurries out and under our chair. Next, I try to get at it, and it FLIES at my face! My sister screams! from up in her bed though; I almost tumble over backwards. The thing makes its way over to my sisters dresser. It decides to snuggle under one of her shirts. To myself I try and decide what is best thing to do. If I just squish it with the shirt it will surely die; but I might also, because my sister will be angry. But if I lift up the shirt it will probably fly at my face again. I turn to my sister to beg for permission…and all she says is, “DON’T YOU DARE”. And she is still hiding in bed…so it’s option two. I find a stance that will let me move quickly enough to lift the shirt and hopefully squish it. I lift the shirt……..and it stays put and I do not waste one second. I punch the cockroach repeatedly. Every time I feel it’s body crush beneath my fist, but just to make sure, I do five more punches. Thankfully my sister was in bed, because of the mess it made, I am so happy it happened in front of her dresser. I clean up as best I can, and scoop up the cockroach within the paper towels. Then just to be safe I take it to the outside trash can.

I was so relieved, that I came back inside to go to sleep, and remembered  that usually cockroaches live in  groups.  I do not want to sleep in my bed if there are more under the bed; and now it’s 1:15 a.m. I just want to sleep. Now my sister, after the danger is gone, decides to come down and help me take everything out from under the bed, and make sure nothing is there.  So together we slowly pull everything out one by one making sure nothing flies out. We got everything out, and we found about a dozen….pairs of my socks. Cool! After we pulled it all out, we put it all back. I finally felt safe enough to sleep in my bed, and I had a feeling my sister was happy I was staying; because, if the cockroaches came back I would be their first target. By now it was 2:00 a.m. and I could not sleep again. My mind was still too wired. So I got out my phone and played bejeweled for about fifteen minutes, and then drifted into my sweet sweet slumber.

So there are lessons from this story

1) BUY ROACH TRAPS!!

2) fortify your room with these roach traps and make it impossible for them to get to you. I almost used an entire pack on just our room. It comes with 12…

If you are unable to purchase theses amazing traps…

1) do not eat food in your bed

2) if you feel something on you, check and make sure it’s not something.

3) clean out from under your bed about every 2-3 weeks. You might find something you lost…

4) invest some money into buying these traps. They will save you sleep and stress.

Today

I don’t know what I want this blog to be. Today it is a way to put my thoughts on a page:

I am usually the girl who will sit and listen to a conversation, but hardly ever chiming in. I like to listen to other people discuss, argue, or just chat about different topics. With my family it usually consists on politics, books, actors/actress, science theories, or math equations; interesting topics just they tend to loudly discuss them. So I tend to sit at the table with my pen and paper. Doodling and listening learning a lot about my family’s opinions.

Back to the beginning of this post…even though I am quiet and shy; I love learning new things. I am discovering how to clean up a house. Our house is pretty much, slowly falling apart. So my mother told me I could figure out how to repaint everything in the house. The process of scraping the old paint off, sanding it down, cleaning, primer, and then paint. It is an interesting process, which she says I get to do the inside and outside. However, I think she is getting the better half of this deal; repaired house for free. But I also get to figure this out without a boss hovering over me. I am slowly going to fix the house up until you can’t recognize it.

Psalm 3:1-8