sanguine artist

sanguine artist

Red roses

for you

I paint

a perfect red rose

symbolizing

deep passion

creative spirit

dramatic statement

yet contrary to

the symbolism

thorns are stronger

than your true love

sharp barbs

prick my fingers

drawing blood

to paint

a single imperfect

red rose

for I am

a sanguine artist

I paint with

blood and tears.

Inspired by mindlovemisery’s menagerie photo challenge #35, flowers in the snow for mindlovemisery’s menagerie.

 

what a fright!

Back on October 31st, Ellie Kellimore invited us to scare her with our “fright” write friday contributions.

It’s taken a while to find the skeletons in my closet, but I think that even Freddy Kruger would find these selfies scary!

 

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member of the cult of the rusty cowl sweater pre-coffee rituals

 

 

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member of the cult of the rusty cowl sweater post-coffee rituals

 

“they might be giants”*

I always knew I wasn’t quite like the other children. My parents would say, “Of course, you are! There are always little differences between children. Here have a cookie. Your favourite, monster dark chocolate chunk oatmeal.” But then they would say that; they’re parents.

It was more than the little things: I had autumn red hair; the others cornfield blond. I had green eyes; the others blue.

I seemed to be all arms and legs. The others more aware of their limbs and their uses. I was hopeless at sports, worse at dancing. Some days, could barely walk without tripping over my shoelaces or my feet.

I was alright in reading and writing. But math was way over my head. The others, bet you can guess by now – aced the arts and the sciences! I could draw, which was something, but seemed but a small talent compared to my school companions.

They were kind enough. They could have mocked me, belittled me, or pretended I was too small of skill and intellect to be bothered with. Not so much that they accepted me, as they didn’t unaccept me.

As summer break drew closer, I kept begging my parents to let me go on my own vacation that year. I had big plans. To away camp. To visit relatives. To be an exchange student. Anything!

My parents weren’t sure. I had never been away from home before; we always took a family vacation in the summer. But I kept at it, largely hoping they would relent just to shut me up. Finally . . .

“What do you want to do?” they asked.

“Visit relatives, I guess,” thinking that might be the most adventurous; a bigger slice of life.

So, on the first day of summer break, with my knapsack packed, teary-eyed farewells from my parents, and promises to stay in touch, I started to climb up the beanstalk.

Written for Fairytale Friday #34: Giant @ mindlovemisery’s menagerie

*title of a 1971 movie