With the Passing of Time

Archive for the ‘writing’ Category

Ephemeral

Posted by: foxrafer on: June 5, 2009

© f 1.2; click image for original picture

Celebrating all the colors in the world

Posted by: foxrafer on: May 18, 2009

If it managed to slip past you, there’s a new round of RaceFail that in some ways makes me more sad than the first. There’s a good summary here with links to some of the discussion and problematic comments.
Super quick rundown: Patricia Wrede wrote a story where the solution she very cheerily chose for dealing [...]

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Finality (repudiate essay)

Posted by: foxrafer on: May 17, 2009

“He’s dead to me” sounds so dramatic; over the top. But in a way I have disowned him. He’s no backbone to speak of, has no sense of family or responsibility. I didn’t forgive him for not coming to his brother’s funeral but even then there was an opening, a chance to possibly make amends. [...]

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The Tarot Story (hierophant essay)

Posted by: foxrafer on: May 18, 2008

The best thing I can think of to post here is the Tarot story that I found at the first link.
The Hierophant Basic Tarot Story (from Aeclectic Tarot)
Having created a solid foundation on which to build his future, the Fool is struck with a sudden fear. What if everything he’s worked for is taken away? [...]

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White Fear (incandescent ficlet)

Posted by: foxrafer on: May 17, 2008

The creature approached us, slowly and methodically. It was more a shape than a body, a mass of shifting plasma forming and reforming at the whim of some horrific god. Its skin glowed, as if lit from within by a filtered incandescent light. It had no face to speak of, yet it formed words through [...]

Alliterative puckish drabble

Posted by: foxrafer on: May 16, 2008

The parishioners parlayed with the pagans, a painstaking process to put it plainly. People pontificated and pathetically pleaded. Pigheaded sycophants pointedly prayed to put off punishment from the powerful priests who pronounced prolonged suffering and posthumous pillorying.
Pedantic pillocks offered no profundity; only perceived proof of possible parasites. The palaver plateaued, and the pioneering crowd plopped [...]

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Willingness to join soil, sound, hands; memory follows me ~ Viggo Mortensen

  • foxrafer: I haven't even thought of this blog for so long; people can't comment if I don't post. :-) Seeing this is making me want to try picking it up again. H
  • JanPattersonRN: i don't comment as often as i should, but i love these.
  • unknowntheartist: you're definitely right about them looking scared but gorgeous in most photos. i found a pic of a mom and three babies looking at the camera and while

 

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Credits

Daily words come from Merriam-Webster's word of the day. All rambling comes from my head.

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