Author Archives: Fresh Hell

Narrowing of Time

 

I think I might start posting weekly instead of daily. Spending time on my work makes me create better work, which makes me post better work, which makes me a better writer and blogger, which spares you having to slog through too much mediocre crap, and that makes us all better people. But there’s something else.

It took something like *checks web stats*  2500 compliments, but I think I’m confident enough to start submitting work to publications. THANK YOU. This means I’m going to have to spend more time writing, redrafting, refining, etc.

I read somewhere (I can’t find the source anymore, sorry) about a girl who made a goal to get 100 rejections. I like this idea. I’m going to try it.

 

 

 


 

Narrowing of Time

 

Walking down the street
the snow is falling fast
gathering on my hood and the ends of my hair
filling my pockets, hardening on my shoes.
Nobody else is out in this weather
save for the occasional passing car.

I arrive
shake the snow from my clothes
make my purchase
and turn back
only to be confronted
by my previous self
her solitary footprints
perfectly traced.

I see her transparently
which step she is taking
where she is heading

Time holds us apart
but the snow thinned
our linear illusions.

I pass her through
over and over
caught up in her ghost
all the way home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

Palingenesis

 

Stepping off the curb to cross the street, his foot lands on a piece of cardboard, and it slips under his feet. Everything goes off-center. He is falling backwards.

He slips into a familiar, momentary lapse of time. Weightless. Maybe like being in the womb. Maybe like death. 

He remembers, in that one second, being someone else, a tiny child, whom his parents would toss in the air, eliciting delighted giggles. He feels again what it was to be a grinning kid who went sledding, who rode amusement park rides, who loved the loose sensation of roller skates under his feet, the dizzying slide of tennis shoes on a frozen pond, closing his eyes and jumping off the swing at its apogee, leaping from the monkey bars. As he got older, he needed to make bigger jumps: from the second story window of his bedroom, the stomach-dropping fall from the front car of a roller coaster, perilous speeding car rides down mountain back roads.

He used to seek that. The sensation of being stunned. The joy of getting turned up-side-down. Thrilling in the unexpected. Always finding a bigger risk. 

Gravity returns with a vengeance. It knocks him flat, kicks the breath out of him. 

He can’t breathe. There is something wrong with his tailbone. His toes tingle. This is the kind of fall that will leave traces for the rest of his life. Drawing lines of pain through his bones, down his nerves, trailing in his new limp, slowing him down. His routine will change. His shoes will change. The content of his conversation will change.

A college kid hunkers down beside him, concerned. “Are you OK?” She says. 

He sees himself reflected in her eyes, distinguished gentleman with graying temples, ass over teakettle in the gutter, and finds his breath, taking in a great gasp of air.

He can’t answer her for his own wheezing laugh. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Coming out of hibernation

 

It was a lovely break, and I needed it! Thanks for being patient with me. I spent the past two months creatively BLANK. I petted the cats and watched TV and shopped and wrapped presents. I told myself I’d do something creative. I did nothing creative.

I think conversations with creative people helps trigger my own creativity.

In that light, let’s try kicking things off with a bit of philosophy:

What is wisdom?

Try to define it in your own words, without resorting to synonyms for wisdom (judgment, knowledge, etc). I’m curious about people’s personal twists on this.

My definition is below.

 

  • The ability to be happy in a civilization
  • The ability to make the kindest actions regardless of outside pressures
  • The ability to make crueler actions for the greater good
  • Tempering every action with love
  • Tempering love with sanity
  • The ability to be emotionally and situationally balanced, or to regain it quickly

 

What was your definition?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Drawception is eating me alive

 

I have been consumed by Drawception lately. I should be more ashamed than I am.

It’s a waste of time, but it’s not an absolute waste of time. The fast-paced practice is improving my digital drawing and coloring skills. It’s also teaching me other things:

  • Concise communication
  • Lowest common denominators (modern archetypes) in language and symbols
  • Good character design
  • So many memes…
  • Where my extra time is in the day is (being obsessed, I find a way)
  • How my art stands in relation to others’

 

https://drawception.com/game/tW7EM2rDtK/a-lamp-falling-down-an-infinite-staircase/

https://drawception.com/game/syb4Grk77X/goose-has-lightsaber-now/

 

Yes, it’s 100% ridiculous. That’s the draw.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Spoiled almond

 

I carved another almond today. She’s supposed to have angel wings but… suffice it to say I did my best. Wings are not my forte.

 

 

After I carved her, she got glum. She told me she’d been prettier as an almond. I told her she’d be prettier if she didn’t pout. Now she’s sulking on my desk next to the bling and the creepy monkey.

 

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I take anything she does with a grain of salt. She’s a bit of a nut.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

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