Tuesday, August 29, 2017

Prompt: There's Beauty in It

There's a strange beauty in everything, I tell myself, but, realistically, it's more like almost everything.

Obvious Beauty
*stark spindly branches against an orange or blue or pink or grey or blazing white sky
*Muybridge's stills of a horse in motion
*any painting by Vincent Van Gogh

Subtle Beauty
*the pattern left behind from the staples and the remaining corners of papers on telephone poles
*19th century sidewalks in 21st century settings
*sounds of a piano being practiced, possibly badly, wafting from an open window

Challenging Beauty
*the sparkle affect of shatterproof glass on cracked, weedy pavement
*bleached out, naked trees (along 80 west between Davis and Dixon) juxtaposed against lush rows of a summer orchard
*a three-legged dog during the morning walk, carefully balanced, sniffing a bright yellow fire hydrant

Is it selfish to try to find beauty everywhere? Doing so helps to give, if not meaning, then some kind of order to this world, some kind of triumph against all odds, like the proverbial weed growing through the proverbial crack in the proverbial sidewalk. Sometimes beauty in the face of so much ugliness seems like the most meaningful "fuck you" to everything that oppresses and seeks to annihilate.

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Prompt: Meanwhile back at the ranch

The funny farm

El Ranchero

ranch dressing

Ross cross Dress for Less

Less is More

More or Less

If horses were wishes

When you wish upon a star

Star crossed lovers

Sons and Lovers

My Three Sons

Third time's the charm

Prince Charming

Please don't squeeze the Charmin

Charmander, Peek-a-Chu, Pokemon, go away

Go away little girl

Johnny Mathis?

Meanwhile back at the ranch, she sat looking out the window at the rain, at the horses in the rain, more sleek than ever.

Meanwhile back at the ranch the grass was being shorn by a patchwork flock of goats, whose relentless ruminations were a quiet cacophony reminiscent of car wheels on a gravel road.

Meanwhile back at the ranch, our hero was nervously pacing between the barn and the silo, plotting his next decisive move.

Meanwhile back at the ranch, Jeremiah confronted his parents on the wisdom of naming him after an amphibian.

Meanwhile back at the ranch, as a group of writers hurriedly recorded their thoughts before reading them aloud, one alone amongst them sat perplexed, wondering if recording and then reciting a random stream of consciousness, some of it vaguely humorous, would be well-received.

Meanwhile back at the ranch, she wondered about so many things, too many to capture as they flew across her mind. Thoughts on self-love as a radical act, on kindness, contemplations of loneliness, of alienation, of the meaning of community, of what is important to us and can we change it in time to save ourselves. Thoughts on human nature and if it is ultimately what will save us or destroy us and really, does it even matter? All this to the rhythmic thrum of the rain, the rain, the rain coming down from the roof in ribbons and ropes of water because she'd neglected to clean out the gutters. They must be filled with leaves she thought as she stared out at the chestnut-colored horses in the falling rain.