A story about a girl with a story. I think.

Hal 2013

This is Hal’s favorite window, because it has a tear in the screen big enough for his head to fit through. 

It’s strange, the bonds we form with animals. I consider Hal my friend. And from the way he purrs when all I’m doing is laying next to him on the sunny patch of carpet, I think its mutual.

Primavera

Just listen to those strings! Takes my breath away.

odditiesoflife:

The Hand of the Desert and Monument to the Drowned

Chilean sculptor Mario Irarrázabal has produced two giant hand sculptures located in strange places. The first hand sculpture, The Hand of the Desert, is located deep in the the Atacama desert in Chile. The hand was constructed at an altitude of 1,100 meters above sea level. The work has a base of iron and cement, and stands 11 meters tall. The second hand, Monument to the Drowned, is a sculpture of five fingers partially submerged in sand, located at Brava Beach in Punta del Este, Uruguay.

There is an island in the southern seas which never rests. The island is cursed, most believe, and that is enough to explain the phenomenon of it being able to move. The island is known simply as The Wanderer. Patrons in seaside taverns boast of having seen the The Wanderer, cloaked in fog, churning the sea as it slowly wadded through it. And in low voices they tell of grave stones as tall as trees, thousands of them, scattered across the open, grassy shores of the island. “They’re the tombs of dead gods,” says one. “It is a battlefield. It is where they met and fought for rule and honor. And their spirits are bound to the stones, waiting for the day to come when they break free and walk the eart again.” But the men and women who do in fact inhabit The Wanderer are not gods nor dead. They consider themselves warriors, sworn to never leave the island. They are the Scare Crows of Tsu-Ram, and the tall stone structures in the fields are not gravestones, but monoliths. Carved deep into the stone of each monolith is a single, giant eye. The stones, like the men and women of the Scare Crows, are waiting, and watching, for END! Gave myself a time limit, a picture and a song for inspiration, and just went with it.

There is an island in the southern seas which never rests. The island is cursed, most believe, and that is enough to explain the phenomenon of it being able to move. The island is known simply as The Wanderer.

Patrons in seaside taverns boast of having seen the The Wanderer, cloaked in fog, churning the sea as it slowly wadded through it. And in low voices they tell of grave stones as tall as trees, thousands of them, scattered across the open, grassy shores of the island.

“They’re the tombs of dead gods,” says one. “It is a battlefield. It is where they met and fought for rule and honor. And their spirits are bound to the stones, waiting for the day to come when they break free and walk the eart again.”

But the men and women who do in fact inhabit The Wanderer are not gods nor dead. They consider themselves warriors, sworn to never leave the island. They are the Scare Crows of Tsu-Ram, and the tall stone structures in the fields are not gravestones, but monoliths. Carved deep into the stone of each monolith is a single, giant eye. The stones, like the men and women of the Scare Crows, are waiting, and watching, for

END!

Gave myself a time limit, a picture and a song for inspiration, and just went with it.

(via writeworld)

(and now i go to war. this is just a bit that i really liked reading from what i wrote today. bits like this keep ya going, you know.)

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A girl fell from the sky and landed into a kingdom of frogs. That’s what I’m writing today. She fell from an airship, trying to escape enslavement with her friends. They got away, on the back of a whale, but she wasn’t so lucky. She missed a step and fell down and down and down until…

The kingdom is named after the war-cry of the frogs’ beloved first king. In the battle of the clans, he would roar, “This is mine!” And so they named their capitol, in the words of their elders, gibbergabbergibber (I don’t know yet, I need to research language origins methinks).

I’m tired. Nap time.