Writing Challenges
Photography and Poetry
Posted in response to The Clinic-Photo Rehab hosted by Lucile De Godoy
“August, the summer’s last messenger of misery, is a hollow actor” Henry Rollins
Last Days of Summer
The end of August
Time to adjust
To the coming of Fall
No use trying to stall
The cold and rain
Will soon gain
The sun rays are few
Feelings of blue
Until the foliage
In multiple colours
Will brighten the days
Get you out of the haze
And life is bright
Once more
Photo Rehab The Clinic: Week 34: Wrap up
The Photo Rehab is a great community to share photos, learn new techniques, discover new talents, and connect.
In December 2014, after completing the Photo101 course, I opened the Photo Rehab Event in this blog, a ‘healing clinic’, for all of us who love photography (hobbyists, amateurs, pro-shooters and enthusiasts) who missed the course and daily interaction with other photobloggers.
Check out all the magnificent photographs for this week:
Week 34: Wrap up
Also featured Rantings Of A Third Kind with Sunsets in Rhodes:
Related posts: Sunsets in Rhodes
Posted in response to The Clinic-Photo Rehab hosted by Lucile De Godoy
“When I admire the wonders of a sunset or the beauty of the moon, my soul expands in the worship of the creator” Mahatma Gandhi
Yellow, orange, red
The colours bled
When the sun sets
There are no regrets
Of the night ahead
A new day is bread
And the sun sets
Again tomorrow
I was nominated as a versatile blogger by Rogue vogue, very many thanks!
Check out the excellent blog!
The Rules:
1. Thank the person who nominated you.
2. Include a link to their blog.
3. Pick 15 bloggers/blogs that you have recently discovered or regularly follow.
4. Nominate them for Versatile Blogger Award.
5. Share 7 facts about yourself.
My nominations are as follows:
Robin Seaton
Oneta Hayes
Musings of a frequently flying scientist
This Mortal Flesh
Manx Neill
More than a dash of salt
This & That
Lily pups life
Peace during the journey
One at the time
Denise Balog
Readhead reflections
On the land
Sandra’s place
My guilty pleasures
So now, it is your time fellow bloggers, to share 7 facts about yourself!
Featuring: The Gun Rap (Some facts about me)
“Roses may say “I love you,” but the cactus says “Fuck off”” Jarod Kintz
The Rose
The scent most intoxicating
Beauty most captivating
A vision most fascinating
No time for deliberating
A little delicate flower
Has every bit of power
Listen to it whisper
Don’t be afraid, come hither
Cannot resist
It has me captivated
If it wouldn’t exist
I would be devastated
Related posts: A Rose is a Rose
“You go through life experiences. Each record captures a different turning point in my life” Keith Urban
WHAT WOULD YOU DEFINE AS THE TURNING-POINT OF YOUR LIFE?
I was nominated to the do the Free Style Writing Challenge a while ago by Lucy Danvers, her excellent blog Ice Coffee Couture
The aim of this challenge is really just to write non-stop for a period of time, so try it out!
My question for the challenge was:
WHAT WOULD YOU DEFINE AS THE TURNING-POINT OF YOUR LIFE, AND OR CAREER?
The question, raises my eye brows more than any other question would. To put it bluntly,
I guess am still waiting for mine to knock on the door.
That being said, I feel like a liar. Why, you ask?
I will tell you why. I probably should start by counting my blessings what I have achieved so far, both in work life and personal life. Looking back at my life, I really cannot pin point one specific turning point but several. Not all of them have turned out to be good ones, but they have taught me lessons, turning me into the person I am today.
But I would say that the most recent one would be when I started writing again. Well publicly that is. I never really stopped, rather moved to different forms of writing. This is my third try and hopefully the charmed one and so far I am convinced I will stay on this path and not let go. Granted it’s a long way from my “fantasy” of having a best seller or a produced screenplay. But I like the interactiveness of the World Wide Web in the blogging community. Instant feedback and knowing your product is something people actually enjoy.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not saying writing on the internet is not real work or real writing, it is and it is hard work as anything else. Simply because most of us have day jobs and continue to our second job of the bloggers world, possibly putting in another eight or more hours a day, and not getting paid for it. I must admit one thing though. As much as I love seeing my work published, I do have a love and hate relationship with the internet and all that which it contains. But as long as I am honest as a person, writer and a blogger, giving credit when credit is due, I feel I can survive the ugly too.
So my point here is, hold on to your dreams, try to realize them, but most of all: Keep calm and continue blogging!
Signing off!
Gun
Words: 371
How to do it:
Open an MS Word document (or Pages)
1. Set a stop watch or your mobile to 5 minutes or 10 minutes whichever challenge you think you can beat.
2. Your topic is at the foot of this post.
3. Fill the word doc with as many words as you want. Once you began writing do not stop.
4. Do not cheat by going back and correcting spellings and grammar with spell check in MS WORD (it is only meant for you to reflect on your own control of sensible thought flow and for you to reflect on your ability to write the right spelling and stick to grammar rules)
5. You may or may not pay attention to punctuation and capitals. However, if you do, it would be best.
6. At the end of your post write down ‘No. Of words =_____’ so that we would have an idea of how much you can write within the time frame.
7. Do not forget to copy paste the entire passage on your blog post with a new Topic for your nominees and copy paste these rules with your nominations (at least 5 bloggers).
I will nominate:
1) Chloe
2) Lee Hiller
3) E J Frost
4) Robin Seaton
5) Raine Fairy
My topic for you is:
Have you ever wished you were either older or younger?
What would you consider to be the benefits and possible problems?
“Until you walk a mile in another man’s moccasins you can’t imagine the smell” Robert Byrne
A Stroll in the Park
A lovely day for a walk in the park. Holding hands and walking down the long lane with her best friend. The sun was shining, the flowers were in bloom, the birds were singing. Yes, you could actually hear them, it was early Sunday morning and the natives were still sleeping comfortably.
The two friends had the park for themselves to enjoy. Almost, a little farther down the lane, they spotted an elderly woman sitting at the park bench. Moving closer, the couple detected the lady to be knitting. That is when he broke into tears.
“What is wrong with you?” She asked him.
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it. Looking at the lady there just made me think of my own future.”
She was a little confused. One minute ago the sun had been shining and now, it seemed, the storm clouds were gathering.
“What are you talking about? Didn’t you and Mark already have your life planned until retirement?” She tried half joking. Knowing her friend, she could easily imagine the plans the couple had laid out for their future the minute they had become involved.
“No, we broke up, last night!”
He was sobbing hard. He hadn’t dared tell her about it sooner, and wished he had not seen the old lady, nor had come to the park. The reason for not telling his friend was, that he really wasn’t in the mood of hearing the ‘I told you so’s in his current frame of mind.
“Oh.” Was her short answer.
“I will be as lonely as that lady over there is without anyone to love me!” He continued through his tears.
She knew this would happen. Mark had been completely wrong for her friend. Biting her tongue and keeping in mind her friend needed consolation rather than her telling him how wrong he had been.
“Hey, it’s going to be alright! I am here for you!” She then put her arms around her friend and guided him to a nearby seat, trying to calm him down with soft spoken words.
The elderly lady had noticed the couple walking towards her.
‘Oh young love’ She had been thinking. And then she witnessed something odd. The man breaking down in tears!
“Well, I never!”
She said out loud to herself and then thinking,
‘In my days people were gay and laughing. We did not air our dirty laundry in public!’
The Observer
I was sitting in the coffee shop, my well-deserved latte in front of me. I was content in emerging into my daily readings on my tablet, but for some reason my eyes kept wandering to the hassle in the bar. Patrons were leaving and new ones were stepping into the shop.
‘Why not!’ I thought. I could play the part of the observer for a little while before continuing my own tasks. Who knows, maybe I would pick up an idea or two for my next writing project.
Sipping my coffee, I noticed the young couple in the corner booth. They were enjoying each others’ company, looking each other in the eye, no words were spoken. New love was in the air.
Feeling like a peeping Tom, I search for something else to gaze upon. My eyes were scanning the room and landed on a woman with three offspring. The mother was deep in thought, or so it seemed, reading the newspaper while her children were throwing napkins, straws and other small items at each other. I wondered how she managed to turn off the surroundings. The patrons at the next table however were not so lucky. Shaking their heads, they grabbed their orders and moved to another table at the farther end the coffee shop.
I laughed a little at the scene played out before me. Good thing I had been thinking ahead and chose the solitary spot close to the windows in the corner. I had a clear view of the whole establishment, but I was also able to concentrate on my reading if I wanted to.
I thought to seek out one more scene before tuning myself out. I noticed the waitresses behind the bar having a heated conversation. I was not able to hear what they were talking about, but clearly the other one was angry about something and kept on ranting, while the other one was just listening in. Wide eyed, nodding every now and again. The angry one was waving her arms in the air, while the quiet one remained stationary, her hands seemed almost glued to her sides. It seemed from an observer’s perspective, the ranter was in charge in that particular relationship, while the listener did just that and probably agreed to everything the ranter told her.
I lost my interest after a little while and noticed the coffee house getting emptier. Guess the rush was over and I could get back to my reading.
Rantings Of A Third Kind 