Rev Writes!

For my Perspectives self-portrait, I decided to paint a black and white image of me with blue accents. I chose this block of wood as my canvas because it had two shallow cavities right where I wanted to draw the eyes, which I enjoyed because it gives the painting the illusion of the eyes following you where you go.  I chose to do this in black and white because it portrays the way I see the world: somewhat colorless and bland, and I like the way it makes it so that the world sees me as I see the world. The blue accents contradict this, but blue is also associated with the cold, so it gives the whole piece an air of cold blandness, which I enjoy. I also gave myself bags under my eyes to represent how tired I generally feel. I added the collar and chain because,  on occasion, I feel chained by other people's expectations of me, and the blue-to-black gradient background accents this. Since the chain goes toward the black, it's chaining me to the bad things, to the dark...

So, it's Halloween. And while that is an amazing day full of spooks and treats- for me, it's also a little nerve-wracking. And that's because I've decided: this year? I'm going to tackle NaNoWriMo. For those of you that don't know, NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month, and the challenge is to write a 50k novel in a single month. Crazy, right? I think so too. I'm not saying I'm not going to succeed, not by a long shot, but I'm definitely going to try. If nothing else, I'll gain a bunch of writing practice and have a blast along the way, even if I do  fail; and I'd count that as a win. I'm super excited for it, and I'll be working on my original story Cold As Flame, one of my favorite WIPs. Hopefully, I'll gain some new advice from the experience to share with you all! Peace!

the iciness of the air comes in through my nose, my mouth, and somehow, sets my insides aflame. no no no, i scream. it is silent, but in my mind, overwhelmingly unbearably loud; it's all i can hear, all i can think- gods no not again- because the cold- while i love it it sometimes does not love me. sometimes it fuels a fire within me that wants me to run, run as far as you can, go, get  a w a y - but there is no escape, and there shouldn't be. i must learn to live with the flames. so i let them burn me away to ash, knowing that soon, i would be whole again.

You know, writing is... it's an experience. I mean, I'm sitting here tapping out words on a school district computer, vaguely wondering what my classmates might be doing, considering, maybe, the audience this post will reach. Not much of one, I assume. But imagine if it did . Because, wow, then this (the product of boredom in a class I maybe should be focusing in) starts to matter. Because without an audience, what is a writer? A dreamer, mostly. A person screaming out words to a void that doesn't care, that won't give feedback or ponder at the carefully crafted sentences.  But with an audience? Ideas become shared things, works of art and color that flow not just through one mind but through many. The words start to matter, because if they aren't heard? They truly and honestly don't. I'm sure we all know the old riddle "If a tree falls in the forest, and no one's around, does it make a sound?" This applies to us and our thoug...

Nonexistence for dummies "I am." "No, you're not." But... aren't I? I must be. But- ...No, no, no. The things I am are but spun glass shields and broken swords- there. Fragile. Created. Who am I? I wonder, mind skipping and trudging and drowning all at once. I am. I reply, repeating the words like a mantra until I almost believe them again. I must be. ...Then the 'wolves' come. And life continues, the world spinning as it always has and will until it, too, is gone. * For my Perspectives class, I had to write a flash fiction piece that was meant to be a sort of self-portrait, and here's where I'll place the breakdown of said piece. The piece is titled  Nonexistence for dummies,  which I think summarizes it quite nicely- the piece itself is a narrative about a person that is made to feel that everything they are isn't real, and as if they, themselves, don't exist- so the title shows that "hey, these are t...