Life in Mill Halley-6

~~~~~~Roslyn Royel~~~~~~

~~~~~~~I Pick Up a Brush~~~~~~~

            When I started third grade, I had no idea this was the year of my budding career. I enjoyed finger painting, water colored occasionally at Ginger's house, but never owned a set of art supplies. That year, my grandmother sent me an art set. It was blue, plastic, with a handle that snapped shut. Inside were two black plastic trays. One held crayons and watercolors with a two-sided brush, the other colored pencils and pastels. The pastels were instantly covered with a sheet of red saran wrap- Mom said they would get my hands too messy.
            This was the beginning of my life. I painted every second possible. My parents were so proud of me. I actually did something productive now! But whenever I opened my art set, there were the pastels, shining at me from behind the sheet of red. It was hard enough not to lift the red sheet. I probably did that every day. The plan hatched on the way home from school. It was Skyler's idea, but I followed through.
             "What 'bout those pastels, Roslyn?" She asked out of the blue on a Thursday afternoon in a singsong tone that she only used in front of close friends.
              I remember she said pastels like pass-tells. I ignore it and reply, "I can't wait to use them," buy Skyler's face doesn't react. Instead, we walk a couple of feet in silence.
              "Why don't you?"
               "Rules," I sigh.
               Sklyer and Linnette laugh, but Ginger continues her usual bouncy walk, red pigtails flying like she hasn't heard a word of the conversation.
               "Just break the rules!" Linnette states.
               "You can't get caught!"
               Ginger halts and spins on spot to face us. "You will get caught. Like when I tried cutting my tooth out in kindergarten? I got in trouble, but not by mamma and dad."
               "How can you get caught using pastels. They're just like crayons!"
               "Sure," Ginger shrugs. "See you in a month." She turns and crosses the street, a car skidding to a stop to let her by.
               "See you tomorrow." I sigh and mount the stairs to my house.
               "Roslyn!" Sklyer calls from the sidewalk. I turn, mid stride. "Pastels tomorrow?"
               "Maybe!" I call, and disappear into the home.
         

Trip to the Orchestra

Bows fly across strings
As grandmother and I sit in red velvet chairs
We hear the song of a bird
Flying through our ears
Like a fish swims through water

I live through the melody
The lyrics consume me
The cello reminds me of a robin
The violin a lark
In the middle sits the viola
Singing a red cardinals song

And standing tall, behind them all
is a bass
The deep chords hang in the cool air
Like sunlight, working it's way through a fog
The bass is the foundation
Working alongside the robin cello
Like Grass, ready for a morning's dew

Storm

Lightning flashed across the sky,
I count as though about to die
One and Two, and number Three
Hope it doesn't strike a tree
Four and Five and number six
Lightning skinny as a stick
Seven, Eight, Nine
A dog lets out a whine
Thunder booms across the land
I can feel it in my hand
The little storm nine miles away
Please go away, I pray.

What's in a Balloon- Part Two

LIBBY- NARRATING

I didn't know where I was going, I didn't know who this man was, but he was certainly not the man who would hand me the bag full of balloons. I was scared for the first time in my life since the marching crayons I imagined when I was five. 

LIBBY WALKS OUT OF THE ROOM, OUT THE DOOR WITH HER FATHER. SCENE GOES BLACK. 

LIBBY- NARRATING

We traveled in a pickup truck through the night. I wanted to sleep, but couldn't. I was too worried. 

LIBBY LIES AWAKE IN TRUCK, STARING OUT THE WINDOW, WHERE RAIN OBSCURES HER VIEW OF THE COUNTRY LANDSCAPE. SCENE FADES TO A PARKING LOT SCATTERED WITH CARS. LIBBY IS SLEEPING, JACKSON IS GONE. SHE WAKES UP, NOTICES HIS ABSENCE, AND BURSTS OUT THE DOOR. SHE RUN/WALKS TO THE BUILDING, AND TRIES THE DOOR. IT OPENS TO A WIDE HALLWAY, PORTRAITS HANG FROM THE OFF-WHITE WALLS. JACKSON COMES FROM THE DISTANCE, SHOVING SOMETHING INTO HIS POCKET. 

JACKSON CALDWELL

Libby, what are you doing in here, get back in the truck. 

GRABS LIBBY BY HER SHIRT COLLAR

LIBBY

(Muttering through gritted teeth) Let-me-go! 

JACKSON PUSHES HER INTO THE WALL AND HOLDS HER THERE

I didn't know that I was supposed to stay there! 

JACKSON CALDWELL

Did you see what I put in my pocket? 

LIBBY

(shakes head ferociously) 

JACKSON CALDWELL

Let's go. 

A February Blizzard

I remember, when I was young
Valentines day snows
Taking cookies to the man
who manned the snow plow
That blizzard was one
we will always remember
When our cheeks were red and rosy

Then several years later
Trudging through ankle deep snow
for what felt like a mile
Dragging sleds
Bundled in hats and gloves and scarves
Flying down the hill
Cheeks red and rosy

I remember
Traveling to the north
Skating across the frozen lake
Skiing across the snow
Sledding down the hill
Cheeks red and rosy

But now, as the wind howls outside
The snow shooting toward the ground
I'm inside
Warm
Just writing.
With warm cheeks.
Warm words.

#WritingWednesday WRITING WORKSHOP

         This past weekend I had the privilege in going to a writing workshop at our public library. Everyone there was older than me. I stuck out like a sore thumb if you saw the picture, but I felt perfectly comfortable, except for when asked to tell my story.
           The topic was storytelling, which I am a fail at. I struggled desperately. I have taken away that storytelling doesn't have to be word-for-word like a book, but more directed at the audience. It is less painting a picture in storytelling than it is in writing. If you try quoting from a book, your tale may become too long and boring. In the beginning, I awkwardly told my story like reading a book, thinking about each and every word instead of telling like a natural. My newness was obvious.
           After a few cookies, a cup of tea, and listening to my partner tell her story, I felt comfortable. But the time was over quickly. It felt great giving feedback and listening to brand-new ideas.
           I am now officially on their email list and am looking forward to the next workshop- Creating Worlds! 

Ten Word Tuesday

This here is something new that I am interested in trying- It's called 10 word Tuesday, and it is when I will state 10 words, their definitions, parts of speech, and maybe a connection. Please comment your thoughts!

1. Amative
Inclined to love- adjective
Roslyn Royel [Life in Mill Halley] is a very amative girl.
Oh, just you wait to hear about Roslyn's love life.


2. Nimiety
excess; overabundance- noun
ni-mahy-i-tee
To connect this to writing in general- NaNoWriMo produces a nimiety of words.

3. Aeonian
eternal, everlasting- adjective
So I found this cool picture. It doesn't exactly work for aeonian, but it is pretty cool and could continue forever.


4. Ludic
Playful in an aimless way- adjective
Oh, my ludic friends. I can't wait to use this one on them. And this is a picture of a playground where ludic kids may play...


5. Clinquant
glittering- adjective
Okay, I just HAD to give you this word. It means glittery! What's life without a little sparkle?

6. Oneirataxia
inability to distinguish dreams or fantasy from real life- It has a Greek origin
In other words, Linnette Birdie
Here is some fantasy to brighten up your day- but don't get it confused with real life!

7. Celerity
Swiftness, Speed- Noun
Makes me think of Olympic track runners... Or, it could be for writers! Thomas writes with a celerity as clean as soap.

Nope. Bad analogy.



8. Encomium
Formal Expression of high praise- noun
See Life in Mill Halley- 5. Or a graduation ceremony.

9. Nugatory
of no real value, worthless- adjective
Counterfeit money, replica's, some writing

10. Pugnacious 
inclined to fight- adjective
See Ginny Weasley in the 7th Harry Potter book. Also Tonks. And about a million other people.
Or these underfed chickens.

Are they even chickens?
__________________________________________
Hope you enjoyed this, comment below of whether I should do it again or drop it or what. Have  a word you want to see? Stick it below, email me, chances are it will get in to next Tuesday's Ten!

Pippa