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Sea Me

I have spent too much time contemplating my love for the ocean.  I have sifted through hundreds of adjectives that encompass the smells, sounds, tastes, sights and touches of my beloved sea and yet, I still fail to capture its essence. The tides mesmerize me. The timeless journey of the sun from breathtaking sunrise to stunning sunset amazes me every day. The infinite diamonds that adorn the Atlantic waters beckons my piratical ancestry. And that breeze, the seductive caress of Poseidon’s mythological breath seizes my imagination. This place is my home, not in physical address, but in the pounding surf of my life’s blood.

 

ocean reflections

*Photo courtesy of Neos Design

mask

Her mask of black and white

Carefully applied to deceptively hide

The darkness that gives most fright

 *

In truth, the onyx paint reveals

Stunning allure to a beauty so pure

The darkness is what most appeals

~~~

*Pinterest image, source unknown

Tears of Hope

dandelion

Watching a wish take flight

Whispers of hope

Sailing in the twilight

Sorrow’s dew hitches a ride

Nature’s beauty cannot be denied

~~~~~

*Photograph courtesy of Lynn Langmade Fine Art Photography

Saline Dreams

Oceanic art

Seize saline dreams

As azure blue captures your soul

Seize saline dreams

As Luna pulls tides to extremes

Sirens tease and taunt your control

Beacons guide you around the shoals

Seize saline dreams

~~~

*Artwork courtesy of Samantha Keely Smith

*Written using the Rondelet poetry form

Down the Rabbit Hole

I watched my man-child at baseball practice tonight. His lanky body deceives the power he keeps coiled in his developing muscles. No one expects the huge hits and long-range missile throws from this slender, mild-mannered teen.  When he breaks out his shy, dimpled smile, one cannot help but adore him. His size easily intimidates his smaller teammates (and possibly coaches) until he quietly engages in conversation with a witty, if not goofy, reply. Like me, they do a double-take before laughing in surprise and delight. In many ways, he is still my cherub of a toddler … after imbibing the Wonderland potion, making him a giant among boys, in heart and body.

Waiting

The little girl sat in the bay window, surrounded by pillows.  She leaned her head against the paned glass and looked out into the misty blue dusk.  She let out a sigh that was much too mature for her seven years.  Her raven hair looked like wet ink spilled down her white cotton nightgown. Her eyes were the color of raw honey and they searched the prevailing darkness earnestly.  “Oh, please let him come. I do miss him so,” she whispered.  She was still sitting there, eyes glued to the velvet beyond when her mother came to check on her.  “Darling, I’m sure it won’t be much longer now.  Be patient.  Give it another night or two.”  But even the soothing tone of her doting mom could not draw her from the vigil.  Her eyes grew heavy as if weighted with the worries of the world and her shoulders began shaking with silent sobs of a broken heart.  As she tried to pack away her disappointment in the remaining sniffles, she lifted one fragile hand and held it against the glass.  And just as she was about to wish him a good night, wherever he may be, he lighted against the tip of her index finger!  It was the first firefly of summer!!  The light from his luminescent glow could not compare to the radiance of her welcoming smile.

Song of My Future

I want the melody of my future

  To contain the deep timbre of your chuckle

  And the smooth comfort of your voice

I want the rhythm of my future

  To keep time with the beating of your heart

  And the strokes of your hand over my hair

I want the lyrics of my future

  To repeat the words you whisper in my ear

  And the vows we spoke at the altar

I want the harmony of my future

  To rely on the strength of your arms

  And the devotion conveyed in your shining eyes

I want the song of my future

  To be sung each morning as we open our eyes

  And on the day my soul slips away to Heaven’s gate.

___Eric_Northman____by_NeuralDefektAssignment 2 of this course requires a detailed description of a serial TV character of our choosing.  My character was originally introduced in a series of books that was ultimately made into a television series.  I prefer the literary depiction of this character but based the profile on the serial character as requested.

Physical Description: Tall, muscular and sexy.  A walking/flying 6’4” hunk with bluish green eyes and dirty blonde hair.  His bad boy smirk is a trademark move that enthralls many female viewers.

Gender:  ALL MALE

Age: approximately 1000 years old

Personality: Charismatic, egotistical, well respected and powerful

Ambitions/Desires: “My destiny is to answer to no man.”

Loves: Blood (esp. Fae blood) and Sookie

Believes in: being loyal to the ones he loves

Trusts: Godric, Pam

Fears most: the final death

Fights for: the ones he loves

Hates: The man that massacred his wife and children (Russell Edginton)

Most important event in life up to date: Massacre of his human family/final death of his maker, Godric

Most influenced by: Godric, Sookie

Best friends: Pam, Sookie

Worst enemies: Russell Edginton

Relationship/family: Prior to vampire life, married with six children; has one vampire child, Pam.

Social/Ethnic background: Scandinavian

Occupation: In human life- Viking warrior; Vampire life – Sheriff of Louisiana Area 5, Owner of Fangtasia

Special skills/talents: Vampiric speed, strength and fighting skills enhanced by his age

Flaws: loyal to the ones he loves

Disabilities: suffered a brief bout of amnesia due to a curse

Special quirks: Maintains constant eye contact, enjoys very close physical contact

Style: He is wealthy but dresses casually and sensually.

Name: Eric Northman

TV series: HBO’s True Blood

** artwork courtesy of NeuralDefekt at deviantart.com**

ImageI am currently enrolled in iversity’s Future of Storytelling.  My first assignment is to recall a story (written, heard or seen) that greatly impacted me.  After summarizing the story, I have to explain the context in which the story was important to me or influenced me.  Below is my response to this assignment.

The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams is a children’s story that explains how a toy can become real through a child’s love.  The Velveteen Rabbit begins his stay in the nursery as the laughing-stock of all toys because he is an old-fashioned stuffed animal with no modern-day mechanics or tricks.  He actually sits neglected for a long while until he is used to replace the boy’s missing bedtime toy.  The boy becomes attached to the Rabbit and takes him everywhere.  The Rabbit becomes shabby in appearance but does not mind because the boy believes the Rabbit is “real”.  The boy becomes sick with scarlet fever and the doctors insist all the toys and bedding must be burned or thrown away, including the boy’s beloved bunny.  The Rabbit cries while mourning his fate.  The nursery fairy then appears and bestows upon him some magic to turn him into a “real” rabbit that he has seen in his forays into the forest with the boy.  The Velveteen Rabbit is overcome with joy at being able to run, hop and play with the other rabbits and still remain close to his boy.

I don’t know how old I was when I first read this story but I remember that I began to place a lot of sentimental value on all of my stuffed animals.   I did not drag my toys around or even play with them enough to lose their aesthetic value.  I did remember the occasion in which I acquired each animal and I used those toys as a never-ending bond to the giver of each one.  When I was twelve, I was in a car accident that required a hospital stay and subsequent surgeries.  I racked up quite a collection of stuffed toys during that three-year duration.  Even though I was well into my teens and had outgrown the security of my many plush toys, I refused to give them away or trash them.  I was emotionally invested in the toys merely because of the circumstances in which I received each one.  To me, they were all “real” in that they represented real people who had shown me real compassion at a time I needed it most.  In ridding my room of these toys, I felt I was dishonoring the memories of those that had loved me.  When at last I was married and acknowledged the need to sever my ties to these childish items, I passed them on lovingly to other children that I hoped would love them and make them “real” in their own hearts.

Parental Struggles

dyslexiaI find it ironic and extremely frustrating that I have two children that have learning disabilities that inhibit their ability to communicate effectively.  I always excelled in writing and public speaking throughout my childhood and college years.  I even majored in Communication Studies (after the evil administrators at UNC-CH thwarted my desire to go into television.  But that’s a blog post for another day).  I realize that I take for granted my ability to put my thoughts to paper and, more times than not, effectively speak my mind.  David was blessed with the writing ability but struggles with the public speaking only because of his lack of confidence.  Once Hunter’s speech delays were identified in first grade, I had imagined that he would blossom into a vessel of self-expression.  It was upsetting to acknowledge and embrace that there were neurological causes for him to struggle with reading and writing.  While he can speak his mind, he now lacks the confidence to do so with conviction because of his issues with dyslexia and dysgraphia.  Hunter has made ASTOUNDING progress in the past year to overcome these obstacles academically.  Tests show that he is now reading on grade level, but tests do not illustrate the amount of effort it takes him to do so.  His writing abilities have improved as well now that he utilizes a computer for most of his school work.  The keyboard does not present the same challenges as a pencil to his dysgraphic mind.  It is by sheer force of will and work ethic that Hunter has achieved so much.  We are fortunate that he is surrounded by teachers that believe in his abilities and do everything in their power to assure Hunter that he is much greater than any of his disabilities.  I struggle as a parent in walking the fine line between wanting to make school work as easy as possible for Hunter while making sure he/we do not take advantage of any modifications to his academic work plans.  It is also a struggle for me to understand what Hunter experiences because the written word has always been so easy for me.  Luke seems to be on the same path as Hunter.  We diagnosed Luke’s speech developmental delay at four and began his speech therapy two full years ahead of Hunter.  While we have seen vast improvement with Luke’s speech, we know it greatly affects his relationships with peers his age.  Adults attempt more patience at conversing with Luke.  Other five and six-year olds don’t have time for that!  Since beginning kindergarten in July, it is has become obvious that he has issues with recognizing letters and numbers.  He is currently well behind his classmates in his writing and pre-reading skills.  Luke will have several diagnostic evaluations completed this week so we can determine what other services may benefit him.  Of course, whatever we discover with Luke, we have the advantage of having “been there, done that” with Hunter.  I can’t help but wonder how I have failed these two children — they are extremely intelligent, outgoing children that should not be hindered in their abilities to interact with the world.  I know there is no fault to be assigned, just as there is no miracle cure for their issues.  While I grieve the opportunity to wield my red ink pen on their assignments, I am grateful that they have not let their learning disabilities define the boys they are and the men they will become.

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