marius

Doug, always appreciate your feedback. Now, about 'Captain Hargood' .... wow! Stunning visuals! Lovely flow ... phrasings; could feel the crystal glasses - as it they are alive. [And, the pixie's have just informed that they were there when Hargood went down. They applaude your accurate and lyrical descriptions of the event. (giggle)] ; )

giraffe

Yeah, Marius. "What one fears, he destroys." really got me going. I'm very easily entertained. If there's anyone "normal" there would only be one in the exact center of all extremes and everyone thinks they are it.

The psychodrama of "Good Idea" is developing well.

Doug. Hargood is packed with surprising images. Love it.

ladyhwin

234 words - every word is true : )


Memories.
My horses bring back memories. Of course incidents, which although not so great at the time can be humorous now.
Say the time I was playing with my brother and I brought Firefly out to join us. Our silly, pixilated little game turned sour when I started galloping my horse, she tripped in a crack, stumbled and I flew over her shoulder. You don’t realize how much power a horse has until you hit the ground. I carried bruises for a few weeks and two nice gashes on my face that took over a month to heal up. I really was a mess.
Another time, I had Fury out on the lawn to eat the green grass. This is the same horse that tangled her lead rope around a tree trunk and panicked. The silly butterneepered creature charged me, stepped on my bare foot, nipped my shoulder and returned to her usual, sweet self. I always did like that horse, no matter what personality appeared.
We always told that cat to stay away from the horses. She learned her lesson when Fury stepped on her leg. Shouting “Scat!” never worked, experience did.
Horses can teach you a lot. I learned very quickly – with a few falls to help out – that you can’t mix up your signals and you should never assume anything. I don’t doubt myself on those. I learned the hard way.

ladyhwin

no title - 234 words - another wierd story...


Ryan groaned bitterly and lowered his eyes to the chasm before his feet. He wasn’t scared of dying so he didn’t care whether they pushed him over the edge or not. What he did care about was whether or not these pixilated people got his name right before “executing” him.
The incident had taken place two days ago when he stumbled into the village. The leader was so incredibly polite, chattering away in his native tongue. And before Ryan could introduce himself, he had acquired the name, “Butter.” He told them as clearly as possible that his name was Ryan Neeper. So now he had the name ButterNeeper.
And then, around the richly-laden feast table, whilst the whole company was making a fuss over some green object, Ryan began eating from a mess of some kind of meat; about twenty warrior-type persons appeared, set him into a hollow tree trunk and carried him to this abyss.
So now he was stuck, with a bunch of strange people around, unable to understand a word of what they were saying.
“Oh, just scat,” Ryan sighed. “How did I get myself mixed up in this?”
At that moment, one stepped forwards and growled unintelligibly. Ryan stared blankly at him and shook his head.
The speaker said some more – which included the name, ButterNeeper – and pushed him off.
Ryan’s last thought was: “Dwarves truly are an odd sort.

ladyhwin

last one, at least for now - 234 words w/out title


The Wind
He loves to swirl around us
With attitude most devious
You’ll find he’s quite badmannered
If you haven’t already heard

He often fleetingly chats
With green leaves and democrats
And looks down upon most
As not much more than a whipping post

Yes the wind is an amazing fellow
Who sometimes sounds like a cello
And though I may frown upon him
He hurries back at every whim

With an angry burst of temper, the breeze picks up speed and forms a miniature twister around the dogwood’s trunk. She complains about her flowers but the wind refuses to listen and blows on his way, cutting rudely through a company of trees who are muttering and gesturing to each other.
Through a pasture it goes, messing about with horses’ manes and tails, causing leaves to appear to be dancing.
Acting pixilated, flirting with the tall grass, frivolously joining a company of beetles before jumping away to create another incident of mischief elsewhere.
As insane as butter-neeper-minded cats, the gust of wind mixes with the clouds, rests for a while and thinks up new annoying and disturbing ideas.

How to dance a jig on the cattle’s ears
How to distract the mountaineers
How to mess up fancy notions
And cause many great commotions

And after his nap the wind floats back down to the ground as a quiet zephyr before beginning to torment the earth again.

spam

Ladyhwin I have enjoyed reading this so much - quite amazing - think you must be a writer/poet more than an artist - this has finished my Sunday in a most delightful and enjoyable way.

marius

ladyhwin, LOVE all of your contributions! Yes to what spam wrote.

Find the poem about the wind especially enchanting and it feels like you "know" the wind, love 'her.' [The pixies are VERY happy about your submissions too - all the nature themes ya know.]

Very sorry for Ryan Butter Neeper. [Pixies have quite a few things to say about those dwarves.]

Now, about 'memories.' Am NOT suggesting it doesn't stand on it's own, because it does, but marius found herself wanting to know so much more. So, should you ever wanted to expand on that story, here are the questions I had, and ... um ... there are a lot of them! See how the curiosity was piqued!

On the day you were playing with your brother and Firefly joined you ... I want to know what the weather was like.

Also, where were you?
What did the area look like?
Were you in a big pasture, by the forest?
What was the game you and your brother were playing?
Was your brother on a horse too?
WHY did you start galloping your horse?
How did the horse act, behave ... what did it do after you fell off?
How old were you?
How long had you had/known this horse?
What does the horse look like?
What does the crack that tripped the horse look like? Was it big? Was it result of erosion?
As for your injuries, did you have to go to the doctor? Stitches?
Was this your first horse, how many horses have you had, what age you were when you got your first horse? (Yeah, this last set of questions might not belong in that story ...)

I KNOW, hard to believe that one memory made me ask all these questions!

Now, Fury.
Why did Fury charge you? (Haha, is it because of the horse's name? A fury of a personality?)
Did something spook Fury?
Were you scared of the horse when it did that? Or just scared as in surprised?
How big is this horse?
What does one do after a horse behaves like that?
Do you have to do some horse-whispering?

And now the cat ... did it get hurt? Can't see how a horse would step on a cat's leg. Oh, yes, believe you but don't 'see' it.

What does it mean that you 'can't mix up' your signals? What signals?
What do you mean you should never assume anything? (when it comes to horses, I assume ... tee hee)

And, LOL, "The silly butterneepered creature..."

Okay - spouse has called me to dinner so if there are any more questions, will let you know later. : )

Nylecoj

Marius, the Pixies came and threatened me, but I still don't have a story....

But I can tell you about Fury! She is blacker than onyx, small for a horse, but larger than a pony, she is shy, and a little skittish but very sweet. And she laughs when she glides across the green grass with her tail flying.

marius

Haha, Nylecoj ... you just told a story!

You could even have a part two if you'd tell us how a horse laughs. I'm serious. marius has ridden horses a bit and can't say I've ever heard one laugh.

[The pixies are talking about how many points you might get for your story, but if they threaten you again ... just get a dish of purple water, add one small pat of butter and set that on the floor.]

marius is thinking she is dull. Do Nylecoj and ladyhwin know each other itrw?

marius

Just for fun ... and because marius is tired of this story refusing to go anywhere (it hasn't budged for DAYS!) ... anyone or everyone, or both of those combined, is more than welcome to see if this story will go anywhere for them. : )

No Title

“Have ya noticed the little Neeper lately? Somethin’s amiss.” Crigget was sawing with the wood propped up against his mother’s antique trunk. It was only four by six inches wide and long, three inches tall, but perfect for a table and for his project.

His wife looked up and said, “There might be a serious incident if you cut into that trunk by mistake. You know how I love it, and what’s that you were saying about the Neeper?”

“Well, I don’t know exactly. He’s only fifty. Maybe it’s just a phase.”

Crigget was making quite the mess. He really wasn’t a carpenter but he’d promised to make the arbor for the summer fair. He had a mix of wood, all smallish twigs. The sassafras was his favorite. He liked the sweet aroma.

Nylecoj

What does purple water do to Pixies? I wouldn't want to hurt them! But maybe you're right about the story!!!!

Nylecoj is thinking Marius is not dull. Yes we do.

marius

The pixies are a trixies sort, can ne’er be seen by will,
Nor with the greatest effort found, no matter how much skill.

They flit, they fly, they laugh and play,
Appear for a blink but then away.
Their pranks are subtle and neatly done,
Hiding your things, what delicious fun.

They mix up your words and befuddle the mind,
But will grant a boon if your heart is kind.
When they bother too much. ‘tis easy to fix,
Purple water in a bowl, pat of butter, don’t mix.

Set that on the floor, be still as can be,
If it’s working tonight, a pixie you’ll see.
Make your request, ‘Don’t threaten me so,”
And pixie will bow and then he will go.

Yes, pixies are the trixies sort but love them, aye, we do,
For pixies makes the best of friends, especially in their view.

marius

correction: For pixies make the best of friends ...

giraffe

Ladyh, Horses and cats - you can love them both. Petting, brushing, feeding, talking to them. But sometimes their only way to communicate BACK is through nipping, scratching, neighing or howling. We don't own them outright. We choose to be their friends on mutually accepted terms. Your story drove that in.

marius

giraffe makes a good point. And, the story did tell about it.

btw lady, forgot to add ... LOVE "butter-neeper-minded cats." Yes, they are very much that! : )

ladyhwin

Thank you for all the comments! I enjoyed writing them all.
I actually was daydreaming about wind elves – you can thank Nylecoj for that one too : P – and the story and poem kind of ran from that. [And I’m glad I could please the pixies!]
I don’t like Ryan personally.... can’t quite figure out why... [But I agree with the pixies on that one]
I could expand and make probably about four or five stories out of Memories. And could probably have it done today if marius wants her thread overthrown with my many equestrian tales. : D As such I will not answer any of your questions about Firefly. Ha!
And Fury? She is Nyle’s horse and so I will let her tell you about her, but I have a few stories I could come up with about the wonderful butterneepered horse. >:D
Like the cat..... I will have a story later....
Marius, your word list and my horses are just combining and making a bunch of insane stories about my real life. I’ll probably make my record for the number of stories for one ThinkWrite.
Aaaah!! It finally came out!! *sigh* Yes, me and Nylecoj know each other.....

marius

ladyhwin, you don't like Ryan? Isn't it odd when we write about someone we don't like?

Anyway, this is everyone's thread: marius merely has her name on it, but she is clapping hands with delight at thought of thread being 'overthrown' with equestrian tales! [Overthrowing by 'cat tails' would be welcomed too!]

FYI: According to wikipedia, "Pixies are drawn to horses, riding them for pleasure and making tangled ringlets in the manes of those horses they ride."

Tee hee, perhaps it is NOT the word list and horses which are "making a bunch of insane storie." Marius thinks it might be a case of pixilation. If THAT is the case, please do go with it ladyhwin! ; )

ladyhwin

Nope, not very fond of Ryan. I liked him when I started writing, but after reading it again... no, do not like him anymore.

Hahaha, okay. I'll see what I can come up with. And cats would be fun, we have three fuzzy little kittens that could probably inspire a 'tail' or two.

Cool! I never knew much about pixies before, I like that! No wonder Tempest has so many ringlets in her mane!!

giraffe

254. You have Marius to blame for this one.

LOSS

Sometimes I draw with computer pixels. I'm no good compared to the company I keep, but it's fun. Often I look at the wonderous creations my butterneepers make and I just give it up. Login welcomed me and tried to mentor me in the process, but I still suck. Sometimes I win and sometimes I lose. It's the loss that this diatribe will be about.

Your whole life can seem like a mixed up mess, but you still remember that beautiful ring you lost. You find another beautiful friend, but he'll never replace the one who died.

Scat, thoughts.

Maybe losing things and trying to replace them is what life is all about. That green grass you laid on as a child is now just a lawn to water. The pixelated drawings are covered up over and over with changes, additions and revisions until the artist is satisfied. The things that are lost and buried are just as important as the final product. At least I like to think so.

Your parents die and you try to replace them with surrogates. Then they die. You pray that your children will outlive you, but sometimes they die on you too. Any freak incident could take us out any moment. The trunk of the tree holds up the branches. It's strong and enduring. It loses it's leaves, but somehow it appears to revive after every winter.

How did I lose those books and old LPs. They're probably 6 feet under in some landfill. The ring, too. Cest la vie.

marius

Well, if THAT is my fault, giraffe, then I'm honored. (And, haha, you should watch out who you blame, they might want CREDIT!)

Seriously, this is quite lovely. It is poetic and the rhythm matches (or enhances?) the topic. Found this very moving. Like the idea of 'losing things and trying to replace,' and the contrast of that with the visual of drawings changing as they are created.

marius had a pair of ear rings from Bolivia. A gift. Wore them twice and they vanished. Can STILL see them, wonder where they went. Cest la vie!