Other hobbies

[Axle]

All we need is a name.
Ideas?

The Shutterbugs? Aparantly I have a good singing voice, but I also do sound.

[opus]

I sing (soprano, if it matters), and I could probably do keyboards if it wasn't too challenging. I don't jam well cuz I don't know enough about how to do it.

I'm also a poet and have written lyrics.


(My DH composes.)

[payn817]

I have also went along the lines of sound and journalism too now Axle. Touring and deadlines, etc. was not all that fun.We had a great time for awhile, but it gets weird at times and fans are sometimes horrible. Sessions are still cool though, but in this little town, there isn't much need for that.

Perhaps with the punk revival I'll get into another band, but doubt it.

[almo]

This is one of my hobbies:



"Going Home"


When she died he set his house keys on the kitchen counter and shouldering his shotgun he walked out of the house. We guess that he felt he had nothing left to live for. He took the car. We don't really know where he thought he was going to, but they found the car abandoned nearly fifty miles east of town in a grocery store parking lot. The police said that there was no sign of a struggle. No indication of a fight for life. No blood. No hair, or ripped clothing. And on top of all that there were eight twenty-dollar bills in his wallet that was found carelessly tossed in the rear of the car. All the doors were locked; he had left it there.

I think that he left the damned thing there as a message. It was so like he had just gone into the store for a gallon of milk. Except for the wallet it was as if the car was parked in the driveway at home. It was the billfold that made it clear to me. My brothers and sisters do not care for my opinion on the matter and through their grief they demand that he be found. But I know the truth. I know that he does not want us to find him, much less look for him. I know where he went, though none of his other children seem to have caught on, but then how could they. His sons were all always to busy to join him when he asked, and his daughters were, by the simple fact that they were female, never asked to go hunting in the great woods to the north were he had his cabin.

I was the only one that ever wanted to be with him then and so I am the only one who knows his secret. His wallet was a note to me. "Son, he was saying, "I have gone home. Do not follow me.

It has been five years since dad left us, and still my siblings put pressure on the police to turn up evidence. My sisters still cry at the thought of their lost father, and mother. Yet still I hold on to my secret. I have told them that I believe he is alive. I have told them that he wanted to be alone. I have told them that the set up with the car was his way of saying he was fine. But I have never told them that I know where he is. I wonder how they would react.

When she died he left, and we have not heard from him since.

[Axle]

Interesting there Almo.

Here's a piece of my short fiction to add to the thread:

This is the ending sequence to "Cottage Retreat" It's a very fictionalized version of a trip that myself and my youth group took up to a church's member's summer home on dark and stormy night.

I slammed on the breaks while steering into the ditch. The van stopped short. I
went to open the door, but they locked themselves.
“Open the door!” I hollered, my mind was not working right anymore.
“I can’t do that Dave,” the radio said again.
“My name is not Dave,” I yelled again, and smashed the driver side window.
Diving out the window I hit the pavement and rolled. I picked myself up, now my
hands were bloodied by the glass, and my shirt was torn as well for the same reason. I
started running down the road.
“Why don’t you be a good boy and die,” my van yelled after me.
“You first,” I yelled back.
Great I had just had a yelling match with my van. Then I saw it, refuge had at last
come, even with my screwed up mind I recognized it. The cottage, I ran into the
driveway, but as I approached the house I noticed not two but three vehicles sitting in the
driveway. One belonged to the owner of the cottage, the second was from the leader who
came up earlier on that day, but the third was mine. But I had left my homicidal van in
the ditch shortly down the road. I stumbled up to the door, and lowered my fist to the
door multiple times. The door opened and the owner of the cottage was on the inside, her
look of surprise caught me as odd.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re…” she trailed off.
I stared towards the door to see who was there. Unable to see past the host I got
up from the couch I was sitting on to see. What I saw next caught me by surprise, it was
a bloodied, ragged version of myself, and there was a madness floating in the eyes. He
stared at me with an insane look, like that of a madman. Then the clock struck twelve
thirty. The image of myself shattered like glass on the doorstep. I blinked twice, and
went to go sit down again, slightly shaken.
“What was that?” I asked.
“I really don’t know,” said the host.
The weekend went by great, but it was when we were driving home that I got my
second surprise of the weekend. I saw my van sitting in the ditch, with a broken driver
side window, a dead youth, and luggage in the back. The make model, and even the
license plate matched. I shuddered as I remember the image of myself standing on the
doorstep from that first night.

[almo]

Interesting there Almo.

Here's a piece of my short fiction to add to the thread:

This is the ending sequence to "Cottage Retreat" It's a very fictionalized version of a trip that myself and my youth group took up to a church's member's summer home on dark and stormy night.

Wow...Way to creep me out dude. Love the last bit!

[Outdoorsman]

Wow, people. Singers, writers, musicians, atheletes, astronomers, techies... I love the diversity!
As for the band, well, jeez. We won't be lacking in any department. Way cool. And may we call upon someone to be the "bandleader"? P-J perhaps?
And what's our first song? I think we could cover something photo related. How about tossing out some song titles?
"Kodachrome" by Paul Simon comes to mind right off the bat...

[almo]

"Photograph" R.E.M.

"Camera" R.E.M.

"Freeze Frame" J. Geils Band

[almo]

Wow, people. Singers, writers, musicians, atheletes, astronomers, techies... I love the diversity!
As for the band, well, jeez. We won't be lacking in any department. Way cool. And may we call upon someone to be the "bandleader"? P-J perhaps?
And what's our first song? I think we could cover something photo related. How about tossing out some song titles?
"Kodachrome" by Paul Simon comes to mind right off the bat...

"I Turn My Camera On" Spoon

[Axle]

Wow...Way to creep me out dude. Love the last bit!

Thanks! I gave the whole story to a friend of mine for her 16th birthday, along with a bunch more of my writing. Well she read it at night, and couldn't sleep because it creeped her out so much.

As for songs: Duran Duran - Girls on Film

[opus]

I would post the children's book I've written but I'm going to try to get it published, so I'd better not.

Hey, how about this? I wrote this poem a few years ago, although it is still unfinished:


The Prince and the Maiden

He picked a book
from upon the shelf
and there he began to read.

A story of old,
of dragons and knights,
and a prince upon a steed.

The prince was noble,
gallant and bold,
with courage he led his men.

But deep in the night
by the light of the flame,
his yearnings began again.

"Oh lady, oh maiden,
oh princess of light
let me find you and save you from fear!"

But there was nary an answer
from out of the darkness;
no princess his callings did hear.

One day in the glen,
as he strode through the reeds,
he quickened to hear a voice.

"A maiden in peril!
Away in the marsh!"
With trembling his heart did rejoice.

With speed he did hasten,
his steed strong and sturdy
ascending the crest of the moor.

But upon looking down,
he saw nothing of peril --
no dragon, no lion, no boar.

There stood a fair maiden,
bedecked in white daisies.
A twinkle escaped from her eye.

A song she'd been singing,
no fear had she spoken,
she softly to him did reply.

"Come away to my castle!"
the prince then declared.
"I'll save you from fear evermore!"

But she paused in the grasses,
surrounded by blossoms'
sweet fragrance she dearly adored.

No word did she speak
as she raised her eyes upward,
beseeching the prince understand.

For he was a stranger,
she was not familiar,
yet to her he had offered his hand.

The prince turned in fury,
in rage and despair,
and prodded his horse full ahead.

With curses and crying,
on galloping stallion
away from the meadow he fled.

As the man turned the page
of the book he's been reading,
he mournfully closed up its pages.

And returned to the shelf
the story unfinished....

[almo]

I would post the children's book I've written but I'm going to try to get it published, so I'd better not.

Hey, how about this? I wrote this poem a few years ago, although it is still unfinished:


The Prince and the Maiden

He picked a book
from upon the shelf
and there he began to read.....

....And returned to the shelf
the story unfinished....

Nice Poem Kelly. I see no reason why this couldn't be a good children's book.

[opus]

almo, it could be, I suppose ... I always figured the subject matter was too "adult" (it's based on my relationship with my husband before we were married)... but I suppose if "The Princess Bride" could flyl, this could too.

I always imagined it more of a movie.