“I want to be an artist,” the excited voice chirps. I look down at the earnest face smeared with splotched colour: yellow, blue, and red. “These are primary colour,” the voice tells me and I am not sure whether he is indicating the paper or his face. “I want to be an artist,” he reminds… Continue reading Eager Artist
Today’s post is written by a friend that I first met in grade 6 many moons ago, Tabitha Avery. Tabitha was my go to when I needed an essay or other paper edited in high school Raising Boys: The Penis Chronicles presents, “Unchartered Territory – No Girls for Me!” I always knew I wanted children… Continue reading Unchartered Territory – No Girls for Me! (Guest Post)
Several days before my younger son told his own dragon story, which he told as mostly description, I had told the boys a story about a pink dragon: Dragon Yawn. I know he enjoyed Dragon Yawn because his good morning story was about a dragon. He climbed onto my side of the bed and wiggled… Continue reading Um, Pardon?
The following post, “Outward Manifestations” is written in response to Carrot Ranch Literary Community’s prompt: “… a story that includes magic.” * * * Earth, air, fire and water. There is no wand required, no mystical word reciting, no naked dancing under a full moon and no sacrificial ritual. Focus and open the mind to… Continue reading Outward Manifestations
The Penis Chronicles presents, “Slow Motion Terror.“ A bike out of control. The training wheels inhibit the fall over maneuver. Instead he careens toward the steep drop. The rider is frantic. Fear is in the air. Closer, closer: no stopping. I’m too far back to have a successful reaction. It’s happening to fast; I’m seeing… Continue reading Slow Motion Terror
Once upon a time there were two little boys who never let their mother get any sleep. One day she was thinking of sleep so much that she turned herself into a sparkling pink dragon with beautiful feathery wings. She aimed her fire breathing yawn up into the sky and got an idea. She leapt… Continue reading Dragon Yawn
The swing glided back. The swing zoomed forward, but this time the swing went back without its rider! The rider continued to zoom forward out of the swing’s seat. The rider’s body was flat, flying through the air being led by the feet. Imagine the rider seeing the clouds above flying behind the top of… Continue reading A Lesson in Swinging: Hold On
Raising Boys: The Penis Chronicles presents “Holes in Walls” I didn’t actually see it happen, but my head snapped in his direction when he made the sound. I was aware of some kind of bizarre movement and there was a soft cracking noise. Directly proceeding this there was a crying-howl, like a hideous lamentation, it… Continue reading Holes in Walls
Sometimes I wonder Why Behind eyelids I see you; like a young child you unknowingly walk away I cry because I miss you I hope innocence saved you from pain like I felt Remember I remember so much, but feel so little Learning to live estranged My hands grope in the darkness for a body… Continue reading Not to be recovered
The desk around me is littered with stationary debris. The isolation created by half-walls isn’t lost on me. I feel uninvited as I sit here, a squatter at someone else’s desk, casting about for inspiration. However, I find nothing under the dim lighting beyond the impression of stormy clouds nor can I find anything in… Continue reading Lacking Inspiration for a Creative Artist
Brewing Coffee, Twisting Words & Breaking Pencils 