Notes from the Dreaming: A Shape in the Darkness

In the darkness, you were dreaming. Dreaming and that is all. You did not see what you thought you saw. You did not experience what you thought you thought was so real. There was not a shape, a shape in the darkness. There was nothing at all. You wake to the sound of drums; a

Blood Rush (A Short Story by Guest Author Tessa Lee Carr)

We shared our first kiss under the cherry blossom tree. It was perfect, like a scene from the movies. I stared into her eyes and brushed her soft hair from her delicate face. I saw the blood rush to her cheeks and imagined what it would be like to feel her soft skin. Her scent

I Remember Magic

I am driving home from work in the rain. The traffic is heavy and I am upset. Not at anything in particular, just a strange combination of angry-sad, non-focused malaise. I have a feeling of something wrong, there is something missing. And the rain is coming down and I can’t see and that jackass in

What Do You Want to Be When You Grow Up?

It is a question we’ve all been asked at least once at some point in our childhood. And the answer, at least for me, would change depending on the time and place or the frame of mind I was in. I can remember most of the answers I gave and the reasons behind them for

The Blood Elevator: Its Meaning & Symbolism

The blood elevator scene, sometimes called the ‘river of blood," from Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining is a horrifying and disturbing image in a film full of horrifying and disturbing images.  Upon watching it the scene produces in many - myself included - a feeling of dread; an uneasiness that is hard to explain. I’ve often

Illustrating Nightmares: Lounge Lizards by Ralph Steadman

To say that Ralph Steadman has a distinctive style is a bit of an understatement. Primarily an illustrator and cartoonist, Steadman started his career in the 1960s and soon established himself as a counter-culture icon. I don’t really know how to describe his work and do justice to it other than to say it’s as

Olly, Olly All Come Free

When I was a boy we played games. We would gather at Mike’s house to decide what the game would be. Mike lived in the middle of the block so it was a centralized location and he had a stone retaining wall in his front yard. The wall was about knee-high, perfect for sitting, and

Painting Movement: Jackson Pollock: Autumn Rhythm (Number 30)

Back when I was in High school I took an art history class where we studied the life and works of artists from the Renaissance to the modern period. I had by this time already fancied myself an artist and had already figured out what was good art and what was not. Modern Art,

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