Balancing Act Give me a sign a totem to let me know if I’m welcome here. Or if I’m like rubbish piled up obsolete rotting but still calling itself Art. Tell me. Make it clear. Tell me what you feel. Confess. Confession is such a balancing act between life and Art. https://visualverse.org/submissions/balancing-act-2/
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Showing posts from August, 2023
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Sandcastles She’s standing on the beach with a small suitcase. It’s unclear if the suitcase is full or empty. Once she packed it full of her dreams, but it’s unclear if any remain. She thinks now that they were built on sand, sandcastles on the beach to be carried away on a storm tide, or washed up and buried in the sand. All that is clear is the emptiness of a long horizon. http://scars.tv/cgi-bin/framesmain.pl?writers
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Beauty Parlour Step inside my parlour, my pampering parlour and you will be remade, reborn, stroked and smoothed, petted and prodded, cosseted and curled, given the attention you deserve as well as a new face and shiny new hair. In Pampers Parlour we’ll recreate you reboot your confidence and give you a new chemistry as we gloss your hair and lips. As we shape your face with new shadows and glows. As we apply layer upon layer of chemical shit topped by nose retching fragrances. You won’t know yourself when you step outside dolled up to perfection, protected in your new mask. And what then? Will you go home and comb it all out and wash it all off, preferring, after all, the person, with the old skin and fresh air colour to the new robotic doll. The pampers product is designed to be disposable, after all. Or will you keep it as long as you can.. Try not to move your new face. Try not to upset your new hair. Place a...
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Mr Taylor Probably a polar bear was not a good choice for my first attempt at whittling. A hamster would have been simpler and avoided the multiple leg fractures.. “Don’t worry girl, no problem”, Mr Taylor said, when I showed it to him. “Leave it to me. Bit o plastic wood, That’ll soon sort it” and it did. The tail was more challenging. But all was not lost, just the tail, and I managed to convince the Examiner that polar bears don’t have tails. Maybe they don’t. I’m no expert. I progressed slowly, and probably a rocking elephant was not the best choice for my Final Piece. There was a lot to cut out, a lot of curvy bits. The huge electric saw bench loomed ominously in the corner. “Don’t you go near that, girl” cried Mr Taylor if I glanced in it’s direction. “Here, give it here, Leave it to me. There you are. Now just a bit o plastic wood...” And then disaster! Someone stole the rockers. Who the fuck would steal my rockers? They never rock...
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All That Glitter It glitters like gold. But is it gold or base metal being worked on by an alchemist.. undergoing transformation, perhaps with a touch of magic, with an elixir of immortality, an illusion. Or perhaps base oil transformed to sparkly plastic glitter with all too real immortality. Glittering, littering with everlasting life, all that glitter. https://www.amazon.com/Harbinger-Asylum-Farewell-Dustin-Pickering/dp/B0CFZ9FJ9X/ref=sr_1_fkmr2_2?crid=24B0P7FHDH6X&keywords=harbinger+asylum+farewell+color&qid=1692542292&sprefix=%2Caps%2C97&sr=8-2-fkmr2
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Lest We Forget We think you can see us, you know who we are behind our masks Not everything is hidden. We are not hidden. We are out in the open in plain sight even if masked. So join us for a snack, a glass of wine, a coffee. Enjoy! Take a sip with us lest we forget what to do when we go outside. Step back in time one taste at a time, one sip at a time. Remember the first time is always challenging and won’t ever be forgotten. Remember! As we will remember the ones behind the masks and the ones in hiding, the ones we know are there but cannot see. We know who you are. No one is forgotten. Nothing is forgotten. That’s our promise one sip at a time. https://www.amazon.com/Harbinger-Asylum-Farewell-Dustin-Pickering/dp/B0CFZ9FJ9X/ref=sr_1_fkmr2_2?crid=24B0P7FHDH6X&keywords=harbinger+asylum+farewell+color&qid=1692542292&sprefix=%2Caps%2C97&sr=8-2-fkmr2
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Wishing And Hoping The pool was clear and deep. The children peered over the age to see the coins glistening on the bottom. They wondered what wishes had been made and if any had come true but no one could know. No one would tell them their wish as they waited to watch the coin fall into the cascade down into the wild white spume and then into the clear pool below where it would stay glistening for ever feeling only the force of water. All those secret wishes revealing nothing lying there hoping. https://www.amazon.com/International-Youth-August-2023-Anthology/dp/B0CDN7R556?ref_=ast_author_dp