The Writing Prompt Challenge that I recreated was found on a fellow blog mates Post. I modified the Challenge. I call it: The ‘A’ to ‘Z’ Writing Prompt Challenge #1 – ‘A dark and stormy night…’ A new phrase will appear every Monday with a new #. One is to write a [Story, Poem, Essay, etc…] using the prompt as the beginning of the first sentence and each following sentence is to begin with the next letter of the alphabet.’B’ and ‘C’ and so on. I hope you will find this a fun Challenge and a Good Time Playing with the alphabet and awakening the creative in all of us.
The Fourth of The ‘A’ to ‘Z’ Writing Prompt Challenge #3 – ‘After the end…’ will appear on Mondays. Posted in your email, for those who receive when I have posted, early Monday @2:05AM EDT East Coast USA. The Challenge will close Midnight on Sunday Evening. Then the next Challenge will be Posted a short time after at the above time.
RELAX. LET INSPIRATION FLOW. HAVE FUN.
Remember to leave the LINK to this Post at bottom of Your Post & in the Comment Section of this Post. It is in order for me to be able to find your Post. Thank you, jk
The Writing Prompt Challenge I modified from a fellow blog mates Post, is titled: The‘A’ to ‘Z’ Writing Prompt Challenge. It began with the #1 Challenge Phrase being: ‘A dark and stormy night…’ A New Phrase will begin with the letter ‘A’ and appear every Monday with a new #. One is to write a [Story, Poem, Essay, etc…Writers Choice] using the prompt as the beginning of the first sentence or line and each one following is to begin with the next letter of the alphabet, ‘B’ and ‘C’ until you reach the letter ‘Z’ or at least attempt to reach ‘Z’. If you are stumped or have finished then stop. The instructions will be placed at the top of each Writing Prompt Challenge. They are also on the Page “WRITING CHALLENGE” at the top of ‘the secret keeper’ blog in white lettering on the far right in the second row.
The following week after a Challenge I will Repost the CHOICE OF THE WEEK on my blog ‘the secret keeper’ after I have read through all the submissions. In order for me to locate your submissions, please leave a PING in the Comment Section of your ‘A’ to ‘Z’ Post or a LINK in the Comment Section with the Instructions in this POST on ‘the secret keeper’. Do whichever is easiest for you. Just be sure I can find your submissions. I hope you will find this a fun Challenge and have a Good Time Playing with the alphabet, awakening the creative in all of us.
The Challenge for the week of Monday June 29th 2015 is: ‘A’ to ‘Z’ Writing Prompt Challenge #2 – “Another thing I remember…”It will appear on ‘the secret keeper’ Monday June 29th 2015 @2:03AM EDT East Coast USA & if you are a follower of ‘the secret keeper’ it will be posted in your email that same day. The Challenge will close Midnight on the following Sunday Evening. The next Challenge will then be Posted on Monday @2:03AM EDT East Coast USA.
I will be participating, posting my submissions separate from the Instruction Page. It will be a Challenge for us all in many different ways.
RELAX. Let the ideas FLOW. Most of all have a GOOD TIME.
THE CHALLENGE: ‘A’ to ‘Z’ Writing Prompt Challenge #2 – “Another thing I remember…”
Jennifer Kiley the secret keeper
PS. Be sure to put the LINK to this POST somewhere toward the bottom of your own POST to each Challenge.
An unexpected joy to find a film that actually is brilliant and exceeds the expectations. A high school literary teacher vs the new art teacher. Clive Owen is excellent in his performance as a disappointed alcoholic who feels his flame for writing has gone out. He takes it out on his students at first. But once the new art teacher hits the scene and his job is threatened because he is not doing his job very well and has lost his enthusiasm, the film picks up a war of what is more valuable words or pictures.
It is a love story and a lesson in how to respect others. Students and teachers both learn these lessons the hard way.
Juliet Binnoche is a brilliant artist. She creates her own paintings for the film. And they are intensely profound and beautifully deep. The contest brings a spirit to the participants. It puts a fire in their bellies all around.
It’s a struggle but a worthy one. I highly recommend this film to anyone who is into art and language, love and recovery. I loved every moment the film was on the screen. I didn’t want it to end.
Romantic – are you in love? my secret & ??? Artistic – did you express yourself? do you express yourself? Memories – what are yours? Music floats you up to the clouds Lifetimes of wanting to but never doing.dreaming dreams. creating worlds in your own imagination. the silver screen.it is magic.we need it to carry us into our imaginations in the most ultimate of ways – through all our senses as we watch images on a screen.
“Silver Screen” By Morebarn Written by Gary Waldman Painted, Directed, & Animated by Julie Gratz
The Album artwork for “Made by Hand” and the video for “Silver Screen“ were collaboration projects between KALEIDA and Gary Waldman that began at the beginning of 2013. Both pieces were truly “Made by Hand” in the spirit of the album, as all of the artwork and landscapes were hand-painted with oils, and the animation is hand-drawn frame by frame. 43 feet of painting, and 13,000 frames later, we’re proud to share this piece with you.
I was able to watch 10 minutes of this film on a Preview Clip. It is not available yet outside of the theatre on DVD. It is on SAME DAY AS THEATRE for $8.00 HD. For the view into the elements of “The Best Offer,” I was intrigued just watching Geoffrey Rush in the opening moments, alone, sitting properly at a table, in a restaurant of a high reputation, I am sure, in England. Just watching him sit is a curious moment. We discover an important fact regarding his inner life and outer as well. It is his birthday the next day but the wait staff bring him a superbly made dessert with one candle already lit. He watches as the candle burns down. He must leave before Midnight but is sure to inform the wait staff to let the dessert staff know how pleased he is with the cake.
He walks into his office. It is his birthday. It has circulated he cannot abide Mobile Phones. So, he received only one in his packages this year.
The phone rings. He answers but pretends to be his assistant. A woman is urgent to speak with him. Her father highly recommended him as the one to handle their estate antiques and art work. She is frantic to have him accept the request. He is intrigued but doesn’t reveal his identity nor does he commit himself to meeting with her.
Auction. He is taking the bids on an antique from the time of Galileo. It brings in over a $Million Euros. The next item is a portrait of a young lady, in her lower teen years. She looks innocent. The bidding starts. This is when Donald Sutherland gets in on the proceedings. D.S. wins the bid for $10,000 Euros. After all is finished, D.S. meets with Him, G.R., in his rooms. He is examining the painting. At first, I thought maybe there was a famous painting under this young lady. But now I am not sure. He gives D.S. a handful of money. I deduct from them both that D.S.’s character is a painter. It gets a bit vague as the scene ends.
He, G.R., is sitting in a room. As the camera scans and he follows the eye of the camera, we are seeing walls filled with portraits of women of all ages and eras. The curiosity mounts when you view the scan of the immensity of all the portraits. I wondered whether he came upon them in a manner not suiting his position.
There is a sense of mystery in this film. It has me wanting to see this as soon as it becomes available in the way in which I like to watch my cinema.
Out of curiosity, it is my kind of film with a touch of film noir, a woman who is withdrawn from the world who his seeking Him, G.R., out. He eventually, does become interested in the mystery. It has all the elements of a film I would choose to want to see.
Since I have only seen a small length of “The Best Offer,” I can only cast a “cinema theoretica” guess. I would want to see this film. I will when I am able and give an addition to this review. Until then, if you want to see “The Best Offer,” it is suppose to be in theatres and it is available with Xfinity On Demand for a FEE. [Xfinity is Comcast].
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On Tuesday 10th December 2013
WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.
NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN.
ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.
ANYONE RESEMBLING ANYONE LIVING OR DEAD
IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.
private writings to dr. annie haskell, psychoanalyst extraordinaire,
my choice in form of storytelling is using letters with dreams, thoughts, poems, images,
music, art, describing my scripts, recent one ‘brief sacrifice,’ film is waiting for release,
psychotherapy, psychoanalysis, inspirations, reflective comments, the inner & outer workings
of the mind, soul, body, emotions, and bipolar—prefer mentally creative, or interesting,
or a brain misfiring; in the mix are abuse, crashes, near drownings, illegal drugs presently,
hallucinations, hypersexuality, time warps, finding answers to unsolved mysteries, infatuations,
imagination, fantasy, the never ending need to discover my self, my soul, my eternal serenity, my bliss
see you down the rabbit hole.
namaste! madison taylor
HAPPY HOLIDAYS FROM THE TAYLOR-ANDREWS CLAN
Private Writings: Chapter #38 — Dream Scribers
Tuesday 3rd June 2008
I want to go into what we talked about today, as close to the words we used as possible. It is a matter of my remembering accurately what we said & what I remember we said. To see how close I am to recalling what is real & imagined.
The first thing I did was read my last letter to you. It described something metaphysical happening, yet it was real sexually but it felt so spiritual. Our bodies blended into one. Scottie felt like me & I felt like I was her. How is that possible? It felt exactly the way I described it. When Scottie touched me I felt she was within my body touching outward. When I touched her skin it felt like my fingers were touching an angel. My hand passed through her flesh into spirit. Pure energy. If that makes any sense at all.
That sounds metaphysical to me, not on an intellectual level, but within the power of deeper magic.
I am going to try to write what I heard you say to me.
“Relax Madison. Close your eyes & follow my voice. Breathe deeply. Let the air fill your lungs. Let your lungs fill your entire body as though they were your body. Feel the air touch the furthest points of your extremities. Let your breathe cleanse throughout your entire body.”
“Feel the sensations of your breathe touching you. Let the air become the touch of Scottie’s hands. The touch is innocent. It is purity allowing your flesh to receive her gentle touch. All other sensations of touch are drifting away. They cannot harm you. Only Scottie’s hands & flesh are touching you.”
“Let all other thoughts & feelings from other people be released from your awareness. Let them float away from you. They are going far, far away, never to return. Only the touch of Scottie & the people you trust will be allowed into your awareness. The purity of touch will be from those you accept into your area of safety. All else will leave you, never to return. Your safe place belongs to you. No one may enter without your permission.”
“Breathe in. Don’t forget to breathe & then release the pain. Release the memories from the past. They may not want to let go easily. But push them far away. Make them move away from you. Release them. Let them go. Only feel the goodness of touch from Scottie & others with whom you trust & love.”
“Keep taking in deep breathes & feel Scottie near you. Feel Jonathan near you. Only those people you trust. Feel my hugs when we are comforting you & when we are saying goodbye at the end of a session. You have returned & you are back in my care. You are safe here with me. Only good people can come into this room to spend time with you here.”
“The one’s you want to release shall be banned. We will only talk about them but they will be allowed to enter in your safe place. If they try, they will be told to leave. They are not wanted here with you & me. Scottie can enter. Only people you want to enter can come into this space. They are the only ones who are welcome. Now breathe in some really deep breaths. Hold each one for the count of five & then release. Keep breathing in & release”
“When I start to count backwards from ten I want you to return slowly, to become more alert with each number.”
“Ten. It is time to start feeling your body centering in this room.”
“Nine. Feel your arms & legs coming back to your senses.
“Eight. Feel your back straightening out & feel the sensations traveling up your spine.”
“Seven. Feel the center of your abdomen awakening to your awareness.”
“Six. Feel the sensations of the center of all your deep sensual feelings awaken.”
“Five. Feel your chest expanding with air as you take in each breath.”
“Four. Feel your heart beating in your chest & warming your body.”
“Three. Feel your shoulders let go of the weight of the world. They are loosening up.”
“Two. Feel your facial muscles stretching in a smile. Open your mouth wide & stretch the muscles that surround your lips, nostrils & forehead.”
“One. Start to open your eyes slowly. As you open them, gradually open them to stretch out your forehead further. Take a nice deep breathe & release any residual tensions you may be feeling.”
Your relaxation exorcism really gets rid of the darkness. Any that may be lingering are chased away with your words. They feel your strength transporting from you into to me & through me. The evil is vanquished & I feel freer inside & all around me.
I feel the goodness of having Scottie around me & near. Making love with her was the freeing of my soul into pure heightened awareness and sensual & sexual energy, unblocked from the demons that held my senses captive.
We did all of this today but did not have time for the dream I had last night. I meant to tell you about it, but there was so much we both needed to say & do, there was no time. I will tell you now. It may not be as clear as it was when I first woke up from dreaming, but I will be as accurate as possible.
When I woke up early this morning, I realized I had the most disturbing dream. The location was at one of my parents stores. People were standing around inside this huge red building. The doors, which were the size of almost the whole front of the building, were wide open. I was floating above them all & wondering what these people were waiting for. It was then I realized, they were waiting for my father to bring the products these people wanted. In this case, it was computers. The odd thing was, they were expecting my parents to take care of them, like slaves. Suddenly, it came to me, the realization that my parents were never coming. A flash flooded by mind with an awareness they weren’t just not coming. I remembered in my dream, my parents both were dead.
A friend appeared a moment later from my childhood. A woman I was once in love with & extremely attracted to. I haven’t seen her in years. For some reason her parents’ penthouse was connected to the NYC store on Fifth Avenue & I had my own room there. In the room there were two older model TV sets.
The dream jumped back to the huge store. A party had developed. All the people that attended were from the elite of society, just like the people who were customers in the stores my family owned. I remember the one in NYC, from when I was a kid. All of them are dead now.
In the dream, I was flying above them. I felt like a snob but I was reacting to their snobbery. I began going around singing a lamentation which was on the more joyful side then sad. The authorities came to close up the NYC store. To lock it up for good. I became very angry and yelled at him that this place once belonged to my grandfather and had been in the family since the 1700s. In my mind it didn’t seem fair that this was being closed up and taken away from the rest of my family.
Somewhere inside of me, I, somehow, felt the family business should have been continued by someone in our family. I started having memories of the NYC store and saw it vanish before my eyes. That is when once again I would have the realization that my parents were dead.
The family business is gone now, bought up by a corporation. Our family home where we grew up in the suburbs is gone, too. It had been demolished after my mother’s death. All of my childhood that was solid has been lost. How do I feel about this??? I forced myself to wake up early. My dream had turned into a nightmare about dead people & the past. One thing, I think is important, I forgot to mention it. I kissed my friend & hugged her. It was good but also strangely awkward.
One last memory in the dream, was a body of water. A huge river or pond, that had a yacht club on the water’s edge. There were dinner settings & party settings. That’s when I woke up & the dream ended.
I have no clue what it means except that it is telling me my parents are dead & they left nothing behind. Everything that was them has vanished as though it never existed except the nightmares which fill my dreams on a regular basis.
Not a very romantic way to return from a place of dreams & love. I feel we should have stayed in Paris. If we didn’t have a life back here to return to, I think it would have happened. A life making dreams into films & giving people those fantasies to enjoy. Home is where the creativity happens. Those past places that live only in my nightmares, feel like they are just nightmares & have no connection to me. They are from someone else’s life. There only value now is to be what fuels my writings, poems & paintings.
From now on my past is just that, something that passed away into a zone of death along with the treacherous vampires who sucked at my soul but claimed only a portion of nothing. My blood & flesh weren’t free. Their flesh shall burn in the fires of their own self-created hell. The deeds of evil shall eat at their brains & consume their soulless putrid carcasses. The darkness will not redeem them but will weigh them down into the lowest levels of the dark. They will walk amongst the foulness of evil for eternity.
What makes these proclamations escape my mind to be written on this page? It is a messenger trying to console me. To be set free, I must know what is being separated from my past, that has haunted me through out my childhood & up until now. They are removed & with all care, be prevented from returning. It is not to say they won’t try to escape their capture, trying to cause the haunting again. But all precautions are being taken. Guardian angels give me protection. Safety surrounds me & keeps them away with their power. I know nothing is infallible. One must be diligent to watch for anything appearing negative or unusual. It will be dispersed as quickly as it is possible.
It is time to rest. Dream some good dreams. One’s that present clues to mysteries one is seeking answers to.
So, I will rest & let go of time for a while. Let the moments for rest reach inside of me.
It is time for the ending of this convoluted letter filled with some confusion. We will sort it out in our next session. Now it is the occasion for the moments of time to enter in.
One last thing I want to tell you before I close, I want to write to you or tell you in person, exactly what I feel about you. How you make me feel inside. You are really special to me. My feelings are getting stronger. But at this moment I don’t feel I have the energy to tell you the truth. Maybe I need to work up my courage first. So I will let my feelings become more clear before I go any further in expressing them out in the open. Time to bring this to an end for today.
Now for my closing line from “Brief Sacrifice.”
“Time can be folded and joined with all elements in all places as the one ultimate moment when time is all at once. In this place everything happens on a continual loop following into a continuum of time forever into infinity. In the “Silver Box,” there is contained the ability to draw time into itself and create the perfect infinite moment.”
“The moment between seconds.”
For you, I will end this letter in “the moment between seconds.”
In the Night Colors Flow In Black & White
Stream of Consciousness Poem
By Madison Taylor
3rd June 2008
WARNING GRAPHIC VIOLENCE IN POETIC FORM
In the night colors flow in black and white until the wilder dreams begin showing harm reaching out its hand to touch what does not belong near the hurt this hand implies it is a strangers hand meant to touch in secret parts that are hidden in the dark away from the light we will work out how to prevent the strangers who are friends with the authority figure who controls what is said or done any choices are made by him to destroy the will of the innocent and corrupt the beauty of the rosebud locked together waiting for the sun to open her up when the right moment is within calling out to see the surroundings if they are not safe what is the rosebud to do it is not safe it is time to run away into the woods to guard the secret of life and feelings sensations locked within the walls not meant for the ugly to awaken before the time has come the moon is out and snow is falling how can this be so especially since winter is not expected for two more seasons after the Indian corn has been harvested the colors released from their surprise hiding underneath the protective covering it keeps them virgins until the time to reveal has been reached when all is ready to be seen and ripened to perfection the color then will be ready to be seen and touched and chosen by the seers who see the beauty who do not want to steal away the innocence making the blood to flow revealing she is not born yet to the world hiding in dreams what has been taken before now in secret when no one was looking or protecting her safety from the perverse pedophiles hanging around waiting for the moment to strike out at the unknowing unsuspecting child with lack of knowledge to protect herself the parents do not want her to have the facts of sex fearing she will be sexual but instead raped over and over again and many times more before she is even able to speak the word rape it is a powerful and a dangerous act to survive for shame has now possessed the soul whose blood is broken with the bread which is the body crucified by strangers whose father knows them and consents to their taking his daughter and raping her so the father will feel satisfied and he does not have to break her in when it is his time to take a piece of her when he is ready to beat her until she gives in to his temptation and his wife turns a blind eye for she is as bad with her brutality beating the flesh till it bruises and bleeds like the insides have been opened up as well as if she had for her sexual attraction to her own daughter she is as sadistic as a masochistic surrenders her body for the whip to hit and the sores to swell up and the crying not to cease until the pain is more painful than the crying can cry for it had gone far beyond the acceptable a long time ago yet it continues as an expected ritual of ripping the flesh apart and when it comes time to ask for forgiveness the young child must kneel in supplication to the adult female once called the woman who gave forth this child from within her own body but for what purpose if not to be a slave to her every whim of wickedness let the abuse begin it is a bull fight to see who sticks her first each with their own kind of weapon to injure her body with shame and pain which grows over the years as the years grow the child into a child woman who has no idea who she is and what she is and what she should do with her life now that life has happened to her and she feels it is time to take life and call it over and cut open her veins or take a bottle of pills anyway to stop the noise in her head and the images of all the brutality her body has experienced in a silent witness environment but no one accepts anything happened they go about their lives thinking everything was just what happens in childhood beatings and rapes and starvation and using food to punish and using anything to punish and no praise for the achievements though these are how the child survives the torture and finds joy and lost in the words and music she finds around her to comfort her and help her make it through the silent pain no one else can hear except when she finds a therapist to spill her words out to but even she cannot stay for long no one seems to stay long those who she needs to help her heal now she is doing it on her own and she had found traitors and good ones who give her the support she needs and help her to heal in disguise they are in a costume that looks comforting but it is a lie and she must run from the lie to a truth she can understand and trust and she does find this truth and it is good and she will begin to heal now and she can write down her stories so she will someday be remembered when someone else needs saving and there is no one there to help her maybe her words will be what rescues the next child who finds they have fallen into her story and their way out is to read their story and her story from out of her bravery she found the words to release her story into the world it is the beginning again for her and those who find her story and are rescued and begin their life at the beginning the way the little girl has done with her words that rescued her too