So, it’s been a little while. There was a test screening of Tangled this week, so we’ve been pretty busy at work. Thus, no new writing. But things have calmed down some, so I’m going to get back into it. In the meantime, here’s a new quote. I remember hearing this Lynyrd Skynyrd song the first time and loving it instantly. It’s a great tune with some good advice.
Oh, take your time, don’t live too fast
Troubles will come and they will pass
Go find a woman, you’ll find love
And don’t forget son there is someone up above
My big brother Mikey has always had good taste in music, and over the years a lot of the bands he’s really liked I’ve come to as well. One of those bands is Hot Water Music, an almost criminally underrated band from Florida. You should check them out. It’s Hard To Know is one of my favorite songs, and it’s got some great lyrics.
It’s hard to find a way through the darkness
It’s hard to know what to believe
But if you live by your heart, and value the love that you find,
then you’ll have all you’ll need
This week’s painting is by Henry Ossawa Tanner and I really like it. It’s called Abraham’s Oak. I’m a bit late again, but it still counts if I wrote it on Monday and didn’t post until today, right? Well, bottom line is I need to stop procrastinating. This one took a little while to get going. As much as I like the painting I wasn’t getting any ideas. I decided to start with the characters and after awhile things opened up. Apparently I’m on a supernatural kick lately. Maybe next week I’ll try for something a little more realistic. 1099 words.
Despite the bright sun, the air still had an edge that cut through their clothes as they walked. Agnes muttered quietly to herself, which only made Maria more anxious. They were crossing the open plain now, past the ancient oak tree. She hated walking by the tree, hated the feeling it gave her. Its dry branches seemed to claw at her soul, seemed to be always reaching for her. The tree had been there forever, or at least very close to it. The first written accounts of the area told of the tree, even then a giant sprawling thing. Now its massive branches spread even wider. Its gnarled bark jutted out in places, looking like gargoyles surveying their domain. Maria swore she felt the eyes on her.
So…a little late, but it’s better than never, right? I’m actually thinking of moving these to Mondays, since work has been getting pretty busy lately. When I first saw this painting, I thought it was a fairly interesting-looking gentleman. But then I saw the title of Una, Lady Troubridge, and I realized it’s a fairly interesting-looking woman. (And since she’s a real person, I changed her name in the story.) The painting is by Romaine Brooks. I’d never heard of her, but I love her work, so definitely check it out if you get a chance. 920 words.
Lady Truffaut walked silently across the room. She was a study in refinement, though not elegance. You probably wouldn’t say there was anything elegant about her. She was whip-thin and razor-sharp. Her features etched into marble, not a line out of place. It looked slightly painful when she talked, as if her mouth was aching to get back to its normal, pursed state. Her bowl haircut and monocle might have drawn ridicule, but not from anyone who knew her personally. She allowed herself one piece of feminine flair, the pearl earrings that hung heavy on her crisp ears.