Thursday, March 22, 2007

and a one, and a two, and a three

plucked black
ink this hay(na)ku.

I like this form very much. Thanks Harry.

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Foam or plastic, you decide!

So I think the reason why people like writing evil characters, is that one can revel in the creative process that gives them these characters. Not the characters or their ...ristics, but in the sheer joy in stretching that far. I know I am not like them in any way, so it just becomes fun to play in their evil. I think if I felt any camaraderie with their actions, I don't think I could write them. It would be too close. But when they are just so icky, one can find much joy! The median-range too close for comfort evil would be much harder.

Back to Percy, the mannequin loving postal carrier. You know, if this story were to ever come to anything, I would have swaths of assorted groups of people angry at me. Swaths! LOL And I don't remember exactly now, because it has been 2+ years, but I think this fellow was based on a real guy. The details have blurred. ::blurs some more:: I hope to ink my story, so that all features of the real people from which this story sprang (should be a word) sprung, well the town anyway, blur.

Monday, March 12, 2007

If your blog was a tree, what kind of tree would it be?

Birch. Totally. I love birch trees. I love how the bark layers scroll off the tree. I love the scattered bark that rolls down to the ground off the visible roots. I love how there are almost always three. Birch trees are never lonely because there are always two more. The leaves aren't bothersome. They fall gently too. The leaf shape does not shout its point, the wedge shape gentle. But despite that gentility, the very slight sharp teeth that edge the leaf gives it a little zing. Also, birch trees, especially a whole group of them, remind me of winter. The white amongst the green gives homage to all of the seasons, even those not among us.

I had a birch tree at the corner of our house when we lived in Connecticut. I miss so much about that yard, and after the 10 ft tall viburnum that edged the south side of the yard, I miss the birch the most.

Meme by way of Shakespeare's Sister.

Saturday, March 03, 2007


You know, sometimes poems just come out of nowhere.

I love that.