Tiem Enuff fur Luvz

01:05 am - Words!

A friend, Laura Goodin, carried this meme on her blog: One requests 5 words that describe them, fills out the personal meanings of the words recieved, then posts  them to their blog.  5 words can be sent back to the original blogger.  Trust me, it's more interesting than I just described.  Here are Laura's words for me, and my responses:

Euphonium, Searching, Notebook, Chocolate, Wistfulness.

Euphonium: (I told a musician I met the other day I played euphonium.  His reply: 'that's awesome!')
Progress over the last 19-odd years of my life that I've been playing it as a musician and as a person.
STEAMPUNK!! It is a very steampunk instrument: shiny brass valves, coils and slides.
It's not often I have another eupho player by me, so it's also about standing alone but co-operating with a whole.  There are times where the eupho part blends in with the woodwind, saxophones or other sections or plays 'soli' parts, so teamwork's involved there.  The eupho is also required so 'speak' above others when necessary, so it's a metaphor for interacting with people, which I didn't even think of until I wrote this...
It also is a means to participate in music, a vital part of my social life and personal contentment; I truly *would* rather be blind than deaf.

Searching: I'm still searching for goals, for ways to fulfil my current goals, for interests to participate in, for information to expand my outlook, inside myself for my strengths and weaknesses.  I'm also searching for the life God wants me to lead, and to find His grace when I'm feeling wretched, hurt and angry.

Notebook: Self-expression and exploration of ideas, crystalising thoughts and ideas into physical artefacts to be shaped, polished and shown.  A notebook is reliable in ways a convenient laptop can never be, the information remains even after the notebook is damaged.  I find myself drawing interesting images and chasing thoughts on paper far more naturally than I would with a computer.  (although I've found a notebook computer is indeed a very handy thing to have!)

Chocolate: Pleasure, indulgence, gluttony, unhappiness, unfullfilment, boredom.  Chocolate sauce on ice-cream is a rare treat a friend shared with me.
Chocolate shared with friends is taking pleasure in companionship and sharing; a small joy I can give to others as well as myself.

Wistfulness: Discontent, sorrow, dissatisfaction.  Wistfulness can bleed out into one's demeanor and make one not fun to be around.  I hope my wistfulness leads me to be more pro-active in life, rather than remaining a passive misery-guts.

Comment 'Words' if you want to join in!

Current Mood: geeky

01:57 am

www.aceofbase.comMy nanonovel has only cracked 1000 words; I sooo need to get my shit together this week.  I've popped out a couple of short scenes for a scenario and characters that's been in my head for years so in the next few days I'll try to do a bit more and post it.  Also more Steve & Marie.

I need to use 'Write or Die' more. :-9

Current Mood: dirty

06:39 pm

The weeds raked in a pile, they took them to the large rusty wheelbarrow.  Steven wheeled it off to their makeshift but sturdy compost heap. 
"Mushrooms!" Maria grinned.  "Go nicely with the rice and jerky."  She picked them up and examined them gingerly. 
"They're ok."  She tramped happily back to their sealed Nissen hut, her yellow suit gleaming in the deepening dusk.

09:18 pm

I think I've accidentally stolen the main characters of my new story's names from a Frank Herbert disaster novel I own.  Oops.  Ah well.

10:41 pm

K, I've figured out LJ cuts.  Good.

10:41 pm

2 Cliches - 'All Done With Mirrors' and ' Flash in the Pan'

Disco balls flash and smoke lights like fire as the dancers twirl and shimmy to the latest flash-in-the-pan rapper to gesture and grimace on the big screen above, where curvaceous wenches wrench their bodies in consensual contortions.
    Those below don't care that they're all viewing a magic panorama of pancake make-up and faux dazzling all done with mirrors.
    Music pumps out dull and repetitive, sweet sickly serenade soothing while thugs rap about thieving and destruction, flashing their fingers, spruiking their bitches, rhyming over jagged riffs.
    The smoke-hazed dance floor transforms all who sway far from common-place reality, jobs, friends or none, mobile phone bills, best friends, innocent fun without make-up on; alcohol lights up the bar as lights sparkle and our dark inner box of unreal joy, no regrets as we shake it off.
    When the lights turn white, bleach of reality clears the smoke and dulls the mirrors then we will tramp out to the tame grey unglamour of day.

Current Mood: mellow

01:59 pm

2 Cliches - 'The Briny' and 'slave over a hot stove'

This was always the worst part of the voyage.  They'd been sloshing through the 'briny' for months and tempers were running short.  So were supplies.  The officers expected Michael to slave over a hot stove and cook superb, imaginative dinners, using precious herbs and spices that he'd have to make do with until the next port, and the crew were angry that they got the same bland victuals night after night.  Their port was increasingly watered down, while the officers sipped the most delicate sherries.

01:16 pm

3 Random Words from MacQuarie Dictionary - with help from Serai

This exercise was practiced in different ways by the group.  A couple of people decided to create a sentence with the words they found and pass that on.  I didn't make one, but got one from another woman.  She'd malaprop-ised 'infantilism' in  her sentence, but that just paved the way for me to go crazy with this piece.

"In the frosty morning, she committed infantilism and after the deed, she ate one of her mother's macaroons."
    Her girlfriend looked at her disgustedly as Leona smoothed down the bib and nappy she'd rocked up in.  Tara squawked, 'What the HELL?!  You've dragged me out here for this?!'  Leona offered up the plate of macaroons in a placatory manner from the blanket she sat on, covering the dewy grass.
    'What?  You said you loved my kinky side, and wanted to find out more.  I told you it'd be pretty strange.'
    'Yeah, but not at 7am in Hyde Park near the station on Monday morning!'
    'I wanted to do something extreme, after your idea of us dressing up in lion and zebra suits and going to the zoo together, I was having a blast until the cops came.'
    'That was no-where near your idea of naked bunjee-jumping... I don't know why you let me drag you into these things!'

             (I could have gone on for some while in this vein, but time had ran out)

12:53 pm

Meat and Potatoes - A Literary Snack
Shara opened the freezer.  A single tray of meat sat patiently.  She picked it up: sausages, a day before the use-by date, like fat cryogenic worms.
    She sighed.  In the crisper a carrot and a couple of potatoes lounged about.  The potatoes glared out of many pointed eyes.  At least they were still firm.
    The cupboard yielded a packet of rice with a loud red peg closing a bag with half a cup's worth in the corner.  The random assortment of bottled sauces and spices that Bill had left when he skipped the flat were the only interesting foodstuffs left.
    Shara was stuck paying out the rent Bill had left owing so she was broke until her Centrelink payment came through in two days' time.
"A paper form won't get me any more groceries."  She thought angrily.
    The door-knocker thudded.  The only reason she'd moved into this dark old house was because Bill had talked her into moving out of their parents' homes together.  Bill had seemed like a fun, sensible housemate to have around until she found the little green bag between the sofa cushions.  It was too late by then; the lease had already been signed a month ago.
    Shara put down the sparse meal collection and answered  the door.

Current Mood: okay