Inspiration

By Anne-Work in progress

The sun beat down on my exposed face and arms, drying the soon to be painted pebbles, perched

upon my porch. I picked up a tough rock in one hand and a delicate brush in the other, then waited for

inspiration to strike. Birds chirped and bugs crawled, but it did not come.

Inspiration is like a cat, it does what it wants and it comes when it comes. There are a few things

that can call it out of hiding, like looking at pictures or watching a movie, but the most inspiring one

of all is being in the middle of nature. That is what’s most peculiar about today. It is 60 degrees at the

end of winter, and the air is filled with smells of premature spring, but it did not come. It simply did

not make sense.

I stayed outside for a while, listening to the grasshoppers, and painted a rock a boring shade of

white. Calling out to my most artistic roots, I imaged different scenes. Nothing happened. I got up

and walked around my house. Nothing happened, so I waited until the moon came peeking over the

hills. That’s when I decided to call it a day, so I packed up my paints, covering each palette and

cleaning each unused brush to pass the time. I carefully stacked the equipment on top of my sun-

kissed arms, carrying them into my home. With a heavy heart and a setting sun, I went upstairs. I

pulled myself into bed, pushing away troubled thoughts and letting my imagination drift. That was

when inspiration struck.

The ancient dragon stood upon the cliff overlooking the village, questioning whether to burn
the village down or go to sleep. The sun reflected off of her purple scales that donned the gold
and diamonds she had stolen over the years. She loved to burn cities down, it is was her favorite
pastime. This question, of course, was tedious because there were many factors involved. On the
plus side, if she did burn down the village, she would stop getting so called challengers that intended
to save the princess --that was never stolen in the first place. On the down side, she would run
out of fearful humans to give her offerings and what nots. She tapped her massive claw
on her chin, pondering the infernal question.

As she licked her chops at the thought of chard human she came to a conclusion, she would burn down
the village. Well, wait a second, dragons are notorious for making bad decisions, what if she messed up
and made the wrong choice. Ahhh yes, she could simply just go with the other choice, then she would be
making the non-dragon choice, the right one. But wait, now the choice was a dragon choice, so she should
obviously go with the other choice. “No that wouldn’t work” she bellowed --to no one in particular. All this
decision making hurt her head causing her to fall asleep. What she didn’t know was that she drooled
burning lava in her sleep, causing the village to burn to the ground anyways.

The School bell rang, as it signaled the school children to sit down. Miss. Rita’s schoolhouse was a quaint
cottage atop a small hill lined with flowers of all kinds. Children flocked from all over the village to hear
what she had to say, and to learn what she had to teach. Today, however, was a extra special day, due to a
certain teaching method that she had in store.

“Hello class!” The joyful teacher said with a bright tone. “Are you ready for today?”. Her question was
meant by an encore of cheers as she gently extracted eleven carefully crafted pouches out of her bag.
Eleven children attentively watched as miss. Rita plucked up a white piece of chalk and begin to write.
When she backed away from her board, delicate scribbles graced the once clean board. The puzzled
children looked up to their teacher. Miss. Rita pointed her chalk to a small girl in the back of the room.
“Yes Annabelle?”.

“Why did you leave curly lines on the board? Is this an art project?” The girl sputtered as her tongue
slipped through previously filled gaps.

“No Annabelle, this is cursive!” The teacher beamed picking up one of the little pouches on the table and
pointing to a name. “Each one of these pouches contains a surprise toy or sweet. You can earn the prize
is by telling me what the board says!”. “Devan, please come up and pass out these papers!” Miss. Rita
called, causing the boy to jump out of his seat and scramble to the paper.

Once the paper was passed out, the students got to work, using the rubric. “I got it!” Annabelle squeaked
as she triumphantly Walked up to her teacher and whispered something into her ear. Her teacher smiled
and handed her the pouch, which was promptly torn open to reveal a hand full of gummy worms.

One by one, the students received their surprises. “Good Job class, as you know, the writing means…”
Miss Rita never got to finish that thought as monster barged into the room and ate them all.

Welcome!

      Welcome to my blog! This blog will be centered around writing, and the artwork that follows it. I hope you enjoy seeing how my work unfolds and everything that follows, enjoy!