Creative writing, artistic expression, your work.

I've been going through my old written prose and poetry.. reminiscing. The Aquarian suggested that beginning to write again may help me express myself with more ease and without feeling drained due to the exertion it takes for me to place emotion into the physical realm.

Does anybody have any work they've put together that they'd like to share? I write, but whatever your medium is.. I'd love to experience it!

I'll post a piece of mine later this evening.

Posted by seraph
This is a nice idea, and specifically for the Leo forum, too. 🙂

I've got some poetry - a couple of things that have been published (though not mass-market), most of which I may or may not post. But most of what I have are scholarly papers. I find, interestingly enough, that scholarly writing provides a lot of room for creative expression. There's always a part of *you* that goes into your analysis of a particular subject or problem. And creative perspectives, questions and methods tend to push the discourse into new and interesting directions.

If you think about it, a lot of *me* can already be found in my dxp posts. The online space is quite a medium, even though of a lot of it is informal.

The piece I'm about to share is actually resultant of a scholarly project! My Professor suggested that I should think about publishing it, but I decided against it.

I admit, after posting the topic, I thought 'this is what Seraph does anyway in many of his responses...' 😛

Creativity holds no formalities, Mr. King. 😉

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Please don't steal - this is a very personal piece of mine.

1.

Fuzzy

Any deep-rooted innate sense of time was now far lost & buried. In fact, time was all but suspended in the thin air of this new land - this blank canvas. The only thing that remained was the sting of pure white; pure white so reflective that one would be ignorant to mistakenly forget their sunscreen. She had made sure she hadn't, otherwise she wouldn't hear the end of it back at base. The wind picked up again, flinging the partially frozen powder through the air. Crisp air — too crisp. There's a point where air becomes so cold that it feels almost sterile. Any untrained being would learn the pain of overexertion, but not from the fatigue or sharp burn of exhausted muscle. In this land, the pain of overexertion came from the deep breaths, caused from the body??s need for energy through oxygen. —Any breath too deep??, she thought to herself, —I imagine would feel like one had their lungs bleached.?? The girl kept her pace, despite the freezing sting of wind against the small patch of revealed skin in between her eyes.

Yet she kept — but she was not alone; the creature by her side was almost monolith. Through years of evolution, his genes had adapted to these barren surroundings. Impenetrable cream toned fur waterproofed his hide and underneath abdomen. The rest of his coat was long, wavy, and rust colored. Bleached fuzz covered his muzzle, from years of longevity. Despite his age, the creature was incredibly agile. Not only was he fast and quick in reaction, but his weight almost tripled his human companion.

2.

They had now made it back to base. The girl removed her heavy, steel-toed boots. They were caked in snow, and the laces had frozen over. The creature shook, flying chunks of melting snow across the garage. His fur was slick with moisture. The girl had walked barefoot across the smooth eggshell toned tiles of the kitchen, hopped atop the bristly clover shag rug of the front room, and finally to the mosaic rug of her room. She was glad that she had escaped the wrath of her mother — tracking snow inside was only a bother. Quickly, she pulled off her long johns, thermal, and hurried to change into warm clothes.

Tiptoeing down the hall, she met the beast at the threshold of the living room. The warm glow of the fireplace was soon met with delightful sighs by the two companions. The hearth responded to their sighs. With pops and crackles of the native arbor burning amongst the week??s issues in black and white, the problems of the world literally disappeared in flame. Being by being, side by side, they nuzzled up and basked in the deep golden hue. The girl??s clothes hung on the fireplace's iron tools — on the iron point at the end of the rod. Luckily for her it not only served to move burning wood in the fireplace's belly, but was also competent as a makeshift knob to hold her drying jacket in front of the hearth.

Her companion — an aged golden retriever, had been her best friend since birth. Jessie was an agreeable dog, more loyal than any creature on the face of the planet, had the utmost patience for the adventurous child, and most importantly shared a strong bond of love for the little human who took him along wherever she went. Jessie was always there for her. He was her first audience — from dress up, modeling, plays, to hearing her read; Jessie made up her entire audience. Jessie had the most varied tastes for entertainment!

3.

He was also a teacher. Jessie had a role in her education; he helped teach her the most basic human instinct — to walk. Ironically, standing on two legs was not an innate desire for Jessie. However as a teacher, no lesson went untaught for Jessie. He endured countless hours of hair tugging from a clumsy toddler as the girl grew up. Jessie had taught her to walk slowly in the beginning: she would clench a fistful of hair as she took unsteady steps and Jessie would match her pace unflinchingly — making sure she took her time. With the grace and charm of an intoxicated sailor, she??d stumble along next to him.

To me, growing up was my most beloved companion. I learned so much from him. He??d adventure with me, listen to me, and endure any situation. Even now, I??d credit him with many of the life lessons I have learned over the years. Jessie was the first true companion I had. When I close my eyes and think of home, I don't see — I feel. I feel the deep warmth that only a fire can provide. I feel iron and aged metal of my fireplace. I feel the slight itch of shag rug underneath my body. I feel the bristles of Jessie's muzzle against my face and the soft breath of his exhalation against my cheek. I feel his warm, damp nose; always sniffing and forever curious.

In fourth grade Jessie slowly succumbed to old age, and when his natural instinct and needs were not able to be met by himself or our family, we knew he was telling us he was ready. The day came, and I chose to not be there for the moment — but I did say goodbye, for countless days and nights prior. His veterinarian knew how special he was, and how close we all were. In our family room, by the fireplace where we grew up together, he spent his last moment.

Years after he passed, we found another golden retriever that we soon fell in love with. Cody, now 11 years old, became my companion like the golden retriever before him. Instead of adventures on foot, we travel by car. The proof is in the backseat of my car — slobber and fur mark my seats and windows. Cody and I do cuddle as well, and he now is the closest companion I have. When I close my eyes and think of home — I feel. I feel the two closest companions a girl could have.

Fin.

Posted by Tabrizi
Why don't you post in the Writing forum?

If you read the first post, its open to any medium.

Furthermore, this is where I'm comfortable enough to share my work. That's all the reasoning that I need.

Posted by Tabrizi
That's too bad actually for I would have missed your writing if I didn't stumble in here by chance as I don't browse this section of DXP that often.

Anyway... I do like your writing, and your style . Especially the beginning is breath taking. I was a lil sad even that they made it back to base that quick, but of course what you want to get across is the companionship mostly. Nicely written 🙂

Thank you! And maybe I'll stumble through sometime when I'm more comfortable with expressing myself.

The essay was written when I had to write something creatively that incorporated some type of meaning about what my concept of home was.

I've been planning on adding some edits - I'll see where I can go creatively prior to base 🙂

Posted by Huntress
I've been going through my old written prose and poetry.. reminiscing. The Aquarian suggested that beginning to write again may help me express myself with more ease and without feeling drained due to the exertion it takes for me to place emotion into the physical realm.

Does anybody have any work they've put together that they'd like to share? I write, but whatever your medium is.. I'd love to experience it!

I'll post a piece of mine later this evening.

oy vey!! this is my passion. been writing since i was 6 when i used to make little stitch-bound books i'd written all about horses, lol. trouble is huntress, i write like i talk and i talk ALOT!!! cos i'm a jobbing writer, i don't write half as much as i should for self-expression but if i do get a chance to, i tend to write comedy...like written down standup as i like to call it. to me, there's nothing better than getting stuff from your head and on to the screen...very therapeutic 🙂

i've written professionally in different capacities....writing speeches for union leaders...radio broadcasts....articles for the financial times...erotica and sleazy tabloid exposes (my absolute favourite, lol). most of the stuff i've written is either too chronically boring or just too plain pornographic to reproduce on this thread.

touching piece about jessie the doggie. i had a jessie dog too although she was a girl jack russell. i know she was very important to my kids cos they'd known her all their lives and so it was really sweet to read your account. nicely written...awwww.

Thanks everyone 🙂 I better see others share soon or no more nice kitten 😛

Posted by seraph
^^^^

Alright, I'll try that again:

"Or part of a collection of short stories."

😉

😉

Posted by R1g0rM0rT1stoo plain pornographic to reproduce on this thread.

I love pornographic material - please, indulge me 😉

brava! gorgeous, love.

Sun soaked bleach stains
Deeply contrasting
With the substance that lie
In the wake of the titanium veil
Hiding what once was
But will never be again

Chipping away at the paint
Only reveals something perverse
Concealed to salvage
Revealed to devastate
Habits form around it
Merely to wholly secure

It feeds away at the being
Festering away the truth
And fabricating lies
Distorting the image of thyself
Molding the structure
Something not meant to be

-----

Written during a time, many moons ago, when my Scorpion moon sought war with my Sun.