color me colorful

As an artistic person (albeit one who cannot draw), I am mesmerized by color. I always have been. As a kid with colored pencils (I hated crayons – too waxy), I was intrigued by what colors looked good together. My favorite combo was purple and teal. I was about 7.

As a writer, I find it amusing how we use color to express ideas. For example:

  • She was feeling blue/gray (sad).
  • He looked a little green (sick). She was green with envy.
  • He saw red (anger).

It’s funny, in writing it seems that colors, unless being used to describe a setting, clothing, etc., are never good. (more…)

what is

They flutter and tremble in the breeze,
Ribbon shreds of possibility,
Slowly slipping through her fingers,
What should and would and ought to be.

They whisper sweetly of dreams and hopes,
Wonderful, grand, and boundless,
Begging her to dream of all that awaits,
A future of beauty and happiness.

Look at us, think of us, they cry.
But with a smile, she sets them free,
Releasing them to the capricious winds,
Liberating herself from what could be.

The whispers fade, carried far away.
In the silence, her soul emerges.
The ribbons that bound her life have vanished.
What remains, what is left — what is.

in the event

Everyone’s got one of those stories – ya know, the story of their first real car accident. Some of them are pretty intense. I’m pretty sure my story is the weirdest. (Okay, you’re not really surprised at that, are you?)

I was 19, on my way back to school after Spring Break. I was cruising along in my car, Helga (that image that you just got? Yeah, that’s pretty much what she looked like. A tank.), just an hour and a half into my 6 hour trip when IT happened. Somewhere in the row of cars in front of me, someone slammed on their brakes. I can only guess why. All I know is the car in front of me stopped suddenly. So I stopped suddenly. And the car behind me stopped not quite as suddenly.

It was one of those seconds that feels like an eternity. (more…)