|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Neil and Ian -Jamie and Alice Sequel- Ch. 3James didn't want to do it. He could think of several reasons not to. But he knew he had to.
"Dad, where are we ?" Ian asked as he rubbed his eyes. He was still a bit drowsy from the eight-hour flight. He didn't have a chance to have a say about it since he woke up on the plane. James looked at his son gloomily.
"We're here " James closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, "to visit Grandmother Abby."
"Oh," Ian hit the tiled ground with the tip of his shoe a few times. " How come Alex couldn't come?"
"Because your grandmother doesn't like him."
" It's a long story " the back of James' hand faced the door as he knocked on it. Ian wasn't sure why they were there when his father seemed reluctant to be. He waited for his grandmother to answer the door; instead, a man in uniform did it for her.
"Oh, Master James. How nice of you to visit today."
The servant was sticking his nose up at the visitors, despite his words. He glanced at Ian for a split second befo
Neil and Ian -Jamie and Alice Sequel- Ch. 1"You're the guy?"
That's what the girl I feel strange around said to me. Her widened eyes are pale and remind me of a husky's.
Well, no, that's not the best comparison. She's more like a pit bull. On steroids.
Her name is Flora Harrington. She claims to be the daughter of the richest woman in the city, Melrose Harrington. No one believes her because her supposed mother's never around.
She hates me now that she knows that I'm "the guy". Maybe I should tell you why.
I think this started when my class discussed who our role models were in elementary school. It was my turn so, like most kids my age, I chose my parents. I drew a picture of them and myself in front of a somewhat accurate portrayal of our house. I displayed the drawing proudly.
"This is Dad," I said while pointing at the taller man, "and this is Daddy," I pointed at the shorter man. "This is me. My parents are my role models because they are really nice and they know everything!"
Now that I think about i
Art Project- Tabula rasahttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HPlpGgUmrOA Watch while reading. (If you can. Otherwise, just watch the video~)
According to English philosopher John Locke, every person starts off with a “tabula rasa” or “blank slate” and through experience we develop who we are. In this brief video I decided to compare this to the mind of an artist. Now bear with me because I’m still very new at the illustrative art field and my anatomy, faces, and…everything…is off.
To better explain Locke’s theory, I created this guy. Let’s call him Clean Slate. Now, Clean Slate has a problem: he has no idea what to do with himself. None. He has no goals, not even a hobby.
That is, until he sees a path. He takes it. It begins with him picking up the Tabula Rasa folder which, in a sense, is his art tool. He fills that empty folder with memories he creates such as the “Look What I Did!
[transmissions of a dead girl]i am the
moon: i am
the silver pill
to weigh down
into leaden eyes--
i am the
of the dark.
the stars are
all dead in their
you'll be safe, dear,
as i am the moon,
with all of your
(i am good bye and yet,
you think only of romantic
i am the moon.
i am the crescent
and dead altogether,
i still die.
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
Keep in Touch!