24 HOURS TILL SANITY
Explanations why some people have it and some people do not. No reminder that I've got all the rejection stuff.
I'm feeling fooking
Kudos Comment Award
"I think it is important to know what and why when you write something.."
:Pilgrim at Tinker Creek
:The Way It Is
That 70's Show
The Daily Show
This Weeks DVD's
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Okay I know its been awhile...but my template has been funked...I am trying to find what has been causing all the errors. In the mean time check out my current blog
posted by crystal at 7:56 PM
Wednesday, July 02, 2003
So, I too have started slacken a little lately...but this is because I have been studying for my GRE exam. I've decided to consider Graduate School to obtain a MFA degree-either that or I may attend UMT in Missoula this Spring semester to continue my studies in Anthropology with the option in forensic/ archeaology.
I am heading to a Tracy Chapman concert on the 5th in the cities and then going to Missoula for a 6 day journey....**cartwheels**
I have been away from the site and did not notice the new arrangement in furniture. For now it seems it is still under construction. Happy posting!
posted by crystal at 7:32 PM
Wednesday, June 25, 2003
I am back on the blog saddle. I am not sure what you would like me to throw on here for you, but I have some summer writings I guess could go, if the theme was right. Anyway, people were still active on my site, so I figured I had better be active too. See you soon, blogger.
posted by Joshua at 9:37 AM
Tuesday, June 17, 2003
still working on this damn poxy server
posted by crystal at 5:55 PM
Monday, June 16, 2003
I can not start at the beginning...but I will at the end because that is the freshiest thing in mind.....-
so if you will let me I will display my introspection of where I am- I suppose. But keep in mind that this is not going to be in detail...for purpose it is vague because it is a conclusion of where my thoughts and feelings stand now....
The place, person and time really doesn't have any significance other than it was in my past...which is the reason detail is "missing" in this peice. I want readers to work for the word...I am not going to give it to you that easily. I want something that will make others think or reflect on a similar emotion they experienced. A touch....of my inner musings.
We probably had the longest running union born of gasoline and good nature. A Ford marriage. We continued to live together, traveling from job to job in our glad rags until we ended up in a one tank town idling- temporarily out of life. Hearing the constant scratch playing over the radio may have instilled an internal drama and heartache- leaving me stranded walking home and him on the lam, sickened with white line fever.
Maybe there were too many picnic conversations and milkshakes to keep in mind. Maybe too many seeping skies when life is young. Maybe too much sun burning all my mistakes into memory. And all I didn’t lose I wanted to break into tiny pieces, wishing to be farther and farther away from my heart.
And even when I try to look away I still feel that little pain expression in the dullness of a smile, in the way the sun gnaws at my face and in the soft fall of melancholy hair. And when I write my head curves down like the crescent moon not able raise the heavy richness in the frown.
I just want to rest loosely on the back of a chair for a second and lace my hand over the armrest. To carry my life on the ends of my eyelashes, moment by moment, because when you’re not drowsy there is a time to just remember and savoir the sweetness. And at 3 AM, I want the corners of mouths to give up so I can hear my elbow cutting on the edge of a park bench. So for 15 minutes it can be mine- like some long spacious handling in a Hopper scene where the character is filled with rue-full dreams of a rusty loss.
I’m not the kind of person who flips the month before the times out, but I do understand the nights race faster and better- sadly, when youth was young my fingers had never known. Yet, in the wound of sullen red dusk I still see him thick tonguing the words- miss me. And the way he pulled his eyes to my face giving a quick sorrying glance I believed I could have saved that afternoon, that he would still be there when I returned. But he knew the hot iron in his heart had burned right through, and he thought if he kept one shoe nearer to his foot he could leave without a flaw. And somehow on my Saturday night’s tragedy it danced slowly into the leftover pain of another day, another week, another month, a year. But, somehow in the lines of laughter I will make haven from what hurts and during the light of late day I will tear away from Summer’s blearing scar.
So it is in respect for words that I don’t just hammer them down but there is a want to prove my thoughts are like a touch. I want readers to bite their lip with marvel but it seems that nothing has happened in their faces and mouths.
Yet, I know somewhere there is a windblown quiet swirling loneliness on a rill, pushing me toward an airy yellow room over looking an open valley, a life waiting to fill with words.
posted by crystal at 2:19 PM
Tuesday, June 03, 2003
looks pretty vacant....hmm......I'll have to start something up again...maybe make a few changes....move some furniture around....clear off the fireplace and wipe off the dust.....
everything is PEACH....taking two summer classes and working in the talley gallery all of june, and putting hours in for BQTS at the Northern, it seemed to stretch on forever, but I am able to get some work done....
taking a memoir writing class....seems interesting....but hopefully my scatter brain antics won't come into play, I need structure, disipline, a good pace and plenty of ink in my pen.....
class till 1pm
posted by crystal at 11:29 AM
Monday, May 05, 2003
CLOSER TO EDGER IS NOW SHOWING GALLERY X