Mother's Day Flowers

I found that producing an image from my own mind and creativity is a lot more fun (and rewarding) then spending agonising hours trying to figure out which of the 1000 cards are best for my mum on Mother's Day.
This is what I gave her for Mother's Day 2006.
She liked it so I thought I'd share it with the world...well, the few who visit this site anyway.

Shameless Plugging time

My family and my boyfriend also have blogs (slightly more developed than mine) so I thought I'd introduce their links in here as I haven't yet worked out how to put them on the side of this blog.

My father specialises in art and animation...he has about ten but here I believe is the main link: http://okgrillo.blogspot.com/

My brother is currently working his way through South America with his girlfriend and daughter, making his return in April 2006 (god time has flown). During his time away he has taken plenty of photos of his surroundings and posted them with the occasional comments:
http://www.chunkunkle.blogspot.com/

And lastly, Tom, my boyfriend, who uses his for random rants and comments on his life and the world in general:
http://www.tomhbrand.blogspot.com/

The only person who doesn't have a blog is mum...come on mum...let us know your thoughts!

EDIT: Mum's finally managed to come up with a cool idea for hers...find it at abuelerias.blogspot.com
Think of it as a thing of the past

Fae and Sprite

This picture is fairly immature and basic, but there's a certain charm about it (I made it was I was a little younger) . I love fantasy. I love anything to do with Elves etc. Thus the Warcraft and LARPing.
This image I created as I'm constantly concentrating on the face (or eye) and nought else, so I thought it'd be a challenge to try a pose. When I decided to colour it on Photoshop, I decided to experiment with shading. There's a reason for this. I can't draw hands to save my life. If they come out just as I like them, they're too big for the body. So I cheat. I make the character hold a globe/orb, which I can then make light shine out of, thus covering the hand. As she was holding this aluminated object, I thought it would be a nifty chance to try out some shading and lighting. My style doesn't usually concentrate on Anime, but occasionally, I feel encouraged to try it.
I'm happy with the results.

Oh and that's meant to be a sprite climbing on to her hand, but I don't think you can see it clearly.
Possibly for the best....

Merielle

I'm extremely fond of this picture. It was one of those occasions when I put my head down and just drew without stopping, became happy with the result, so coloured it on the computer and this was the outcome. Haven't done that in too long...no time.
It's an anime character from my dad's collection of Italian comics. As my dad's an animator (well, technically retired, but the old boy keeps on truckin' with work) he receives a lot of magazines through the post regarding animation, many of which he usually passes my way if he thinks I'll be interested in the content.
I saw this picture and admired the simplicity of it, so thought I'd try my hand at it. and this was the result.
The face is a little funky, but then with Anime, the easier it looks to draw, the harder it is. There are a few mistakes here and there, but apart from that, I feel it came out well enough to be liked. It's as close to the reference as I could get it.

Cutty Sark and the irrational Fear

Whilst we're on the subject of fears....The one that absolutely rules my life, next to my fear of eyes being damaged, is boats. Not big steel boats like P&O, not little dingys, not row boats, but big f*** off (pardon my language) galleon boats like the Cutty Sark.
This...ship...terrifies me. I can't explain why. I can only say that whenever I see so much of a picture of it, my skin tenses and I have an urge to flinch then run.
I went for a walk with Tom a few months back around Central London and as we were walking near the Thames, I suddenly froze and couldn't physically relay to him why I was suddenly so frightened. He held me as he looked around, baffled and when he asked me, I responded best I could that it was the boat. I begged him to get me away from it as I couldn't take anymore and he had to turn my back to it and bury my face in his shoulders as he quickly figured out the best way to drag me out of there, and avoid taking me the wrong way so we'd have to come back past it again.
When looking up Universities, I had taken a day out with my mum to go see Greenwich University, without realising that it was smack bang, right next to good ol' Cutty Sark. The entire time we were there, all I could think about were the masts outside the window (just thinking about it makes my skin crawl). I couldn't go there, knowing the boat was there, I physically couldn't. Mum couldn't comprehend why I didn't want to go there, why a boat would prevent me, but the truth is, I'd be the same in her position. The best way to describe it to her would be, imagine every room except a few, had at least one wall covered in cockroaches and there was a threat one may fall on you. That's how I feel when it comes to boats. If cockroaches aren't your fear, any bug, animal whatever, that you're not a fan of.
One day, however, I braved my fear and, wanting to do something relatively cultural with my ex as opposed to sitting in and playing computer games on a beautiful spring day, I convinced myself to take him to Cutty Sark.
My legs wouldn't stop shaking the entire time I was there. Finally, when we were on the boat, I kept asking him 'is it me or it is moving? Swaying from side to side? Just barely noticably'
He looked at me and said, no that was just my legs going to jelly. And he took my arm to help me.
I thought doing something like that would combat my fear...but nope it's still here. I took a leaflet just as a little souvinear and when I turned it over, i showed an image of the boat in the dark with lights directed at it. I flinched violently and had to bin it.
Now I know that these boats are a master of creation. I know they are beautiful and contain amazing stories, but they still scare the shit out of me.
When I told my mate Harry, whilst we were sitting together in Pizza Hut remenising (I hadnt seen him in over 1 year as he now lives in Oz) he learnt of my fear and commented 'How the hell did you get that fear? Did a boat fall on you or something?'
I burst out laughing as it's true...a boat falling on me is the only logical reason for me having this fear. It's completely incomprehensible. I've never been on one that's sunk that's for sure....

And that brings us to my next fear...

Now the next thing to boats that scare me shitless, are...shipwrecks. Just saying the word makes me want to cry out. I can't bear them. They make me want to scream and run as far as possible. If I ever, ever get really stressed, I dream of being surrounded by galleons and shipwrecks and I wake up in a cold sweat, fearing sleep. Tom and I play a game called Warcraft. It's a game in which you choose a species (dwarf, elf, orc etc) and go on these missions throughout a land, making money, getting kit to make you stronger and if you have magic, developing those skills, and going up level by level 1-60)
Whilst playing warcraft, I'm happily swimming along the water, getting ready to kill some huge creatures for a mission and their skin (which can be made into clothes and sold). My computer doesn't have an amazing graphics card, so things tend to take time to load up. You can naturally imagine my reaction when I turned away to talk to someone, my finger still on the forward button and I look up to see a shipwreck. RIGHT in front of me.....Not a small one either.
Dear GOD in heaven it scared the CRAP out of me.
It took me about 5 minutes or so to gain the courage to go back to the computer, turn around and swim away from it. It then turned out there was a mission which involved me going INTO the boat itself...no wait TWO different shipwrecks to get some loot whilst fighting murlocs (fish men that can walk on land)....SCREW that, the mission never got done.
When I told my mate about the fear, she looked at me bizarrely (something which doesn't surprise me) and asked me if I believe in reincarnation. She said the way it sounds, in a past life, I may have died due to a galleon sinking. I think she said it as a joke, but honestly, sounds logical to me. If it doesn't, what other explanation can there be?? Oh apart from my fear of drowning....but that doesn't explain galleons.
I can quite happily go on boats, big ships like cruisers etc don't freak me out. It's solely Galleons.
And it's curious, you'd think living on land, a good few miles from water, I'd never see any. But oh, no, there are tons of references. Everywhere. It's a pain in the ass...but I live with it. I have to.

I was going to put an image of the Cutty Sark up, but the truth was, just thinking about turning on my blog to see it turns my leg to mush. I can't take simple images of it. If you'd like an idea of what I mean, go to a search engine, type in the name and click on image. Then press go. That's my fear. The one material thing in this world that makes me want to scream.

Door to the Soul

Since youth, I've had a huge fear of blindness. If I see, read, hear about anything happening to someone's eye to damage it, I feel sick and faint. I've had people shout a warning at me if they forsee something happening or I became ill for the rest of the day. I've had so many films ruined for me because the villians decide to screw up the protagonist's eyes. I now sit there, with a 'blind' fear just hidden in the pit of my stomach any time I go see a film with the slightest bit of violence as I don't have the chance to escape easily to get some air without bothering people.
I put it down to a childhood experience which is still very clear in my mind. It's the only explanation (a little more explicable than my weird fear of gallions...I'm terrified of the Cutty Sark, one of the reasons I believe I couldn't face going to Greenwich University)

However, I also love eyes. I think they're the most expressive and beautiful part of the human facial features. I used to have so many crushes over the time due to developing a strong attraction to someone for their eyes even if they were ugly as sin.
The reason I'm saying all this is because of this picture I've put up. I'm not exactly sure why this picture promoted such a lengthy explanation, but it seemed right at the time.
I was extremely bored one day and had a desperate urge to draw something, but also had an intense artist block. But then I thought, screw it. What am I best at drawing. So I drew this eye. My parents worried about my brother and eye during our lives as we seemed to sketch eyes everywhere we had the chance, and whenever I go out to eat with friends and there are crayons, I start doodling to the comment 'and she's off' hehehe.
But yeah, I'm particularly proud of this eye. Never really got to finishing it as haven't had time and my Photoshop is bugged but hey. AT least I completed part of it.

A Painful Victory

At uni, I took Creative Writing. In one of the modules, which I believe was to prepare us for the final project, we were told to write a story, then write a journal explaining the development of the story. At the time, I had a liking for bikes, and thought they'd make good descriptive material to write about.
I won't go into the history behind this story, and normally I wouldn't have put it on, but I came across it when looking the one of the files I have at home and thought I'd put it on. I think it's a little long, but it's a short story, so it shouldn't be too bad to read on here. By the way, I'm typing this as I read the story due to not being able to find it on the computer. Gives me the chance to improve my touch-typing and read it through!
Enjoy

(Just finished copying the story. I sincerely apologise for any mistakes, spelling grammar as I'm now dead. This was a tad harder and took a little longer than I expected. I'll look over it again later when my eyes stop seeing double

Edit Note: I've just gone through the story and sorted out the spelling mistakes which I have to admit, have left me a tad embarrased. I'll look over the story when I have more time and add/take bits away)

Note: The bits in brackets are meant to be in Italics, but I'm not entirely sure how to do that, so I thought I'd go for an easier option.
Enjoy

A Painful Victory

The cool wind streamed through the gap between the chin and the visor onto Julian's face as he twisted the throttle, felt the front wheel lift slightly, and watched the speedometer rise with a smooth movement to the double ton. His face cracked into a grin, as he smelt the fresh grass both side of him and he focused his exhilarated eyes on the path ahead. He lifted the visor further up and enjoyed the strangely gentle breeze on his hot cheeks, strange as riding a bike over 120 mph, he should have been forced against a rushing air stream and back down to a reasonable speed. Yet, the whole experience of gliding seemingly silently down the highway, soundless cheers emerging from the blurred features

(The beautiful painting surrounded him having been distorted to a barely recognisable view)

of the millions of spectators either side as he powered his way to the finish line gave him a deep sense of peace, almost as though he were flying. He took his eyes off the road for longer than should be done, to watch a beautiful bird fly around his head and down in front of his eyes, it's blue tail mimicking the same easy movement as the bike as it gently kissed the air. He took his hand off the throttle to touch it. It flitted

(an untouchable gleam of light, visible through the dust of a room, but impossible to grasp)

and opened its beak as though to sing him onto victory as the flags grew ever closer, welcoming him...

pip pip pip pip pip pip pipipipipipipip

(Urgh the unmanageable frustration)

Julian rolled over heavily, confusing his mind as seconds ago his body had been so light and graceful. He smacked his free hand on the black box which was beckoning, beckoning for him to please wake the hell up and get out of bed, his other wiping the heavy sleep from his eyes.
He heaved his structure out of bed, padded over to the bathroom, relieved himself

(Knt duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu dukudukuduku, the deep reflection of age. The rust could practically be heard on those pipes)

and looked at his reflection in the mirror against the condensation left by the previous user. Although his unshaven skin, ruffled hair and yawning mouth told one story, deep within his eyes there was another. There was a vigour and determination, which was only there at the best of times. The last time he had felt such excitement, he had finally been given the bike of his dreams, as a gift by everyone in his family for having done so well for himself. Now the excitement had been renewed as he was going to use his bike to its best advantage and push himself to get first in the races at the all-famous Santa Pod

(established in 1966, on an American base strip, on smooth runways where people from everywhere could bring their cars and bikes and use them to race against others. Known as only the most famous drag strip out of America, gaining strong interest from the best sport drivers around and team racers from European Drag Racing, also affectionately known as the POD, with over 35 events for everyone. A dream for any driver with a fast mind)

After a small breakfast of toast, having planned to eat lunch there

(Greasy burgers, the big man's fuel)

he left the house, opened the garage door with a light clunk and revealed the object of his affections, the light from the windows playing delicately on the handlebars, speedometer and seat. In his eyes, it was the equivalent of a beautiful breed of dog, holding a stick in its mouth, waiting patiently for its owner to take it to the dog shows and win the top prize.
He took a while to admire the two wheeled stunner in front of him, including the exhaust pipe, he had recently purchased, after a particularly bad night on the road,

('Weather warning for today as gale force winds will be widespread making their way through the whole of Southern England and up to Scotland. Rain will also be high on the scales so it is advisable that no one should attempt any motor journeys throughout the evening for safety precautions')

as a treat. He had bought the exhaust as a gift of thanks to his bike for not having screwed up and left him in the shit that night. It was a top of the range splendour with a hole so large, he had made the house's windows shake when he gave a test rev. Almost like the perfecting touch, it had the eyes of a tiger emblazed onto the side of it,

(the predator; spoke for the looks, the speed and oh god the noise)

giving it a harsh grace. It had cost a bit, but it had been worth it. But wasn't as though he had anyone special in his life that he could spent it on, so he made the most of it on his bike.

('F*** everything, I've always got my bike'
Ogri...the man)

He smiled as he lugged on his biking gear and slowly sidled the bike out of the garage. He sat atop the machine, gently revving it so as not to damage the cold engine so early in the day. Hearing the revs, his father emerged from the house.
- you're right mate? How's it going?
- Like a charm. Could not be better
His father lifted his eyes to the heavens and Julian smiled as he could sense the time old phrase, which would fall from his mouth, as was traditional when either were about to embark on a bike ride.
- Looks like rain. Weather channel didn't look best pleasing
Julian responded by lifting his helmeted head to the sky, just enough so it could filter in through over his helmet.
- could be, but I've got my waterproofs on and if these wheels can move in a blizzard, they sure as hell can start in a bit of rain. Shouldn't ruin the fun though. If it rains, people won't race, but at least there'll be some meet. If it doesn't, get the bonus of the races.
- Think you might race too?
Julian felt his heart skip with excitement as he remembered the...

(the whole experience of gliding seemingly silently down the highway, millions of people either side, silent cheers emerging from their blurred features as he powered his way to the finish line gave him a deep sense of peace, almost as though he were flying)

he hasn't set his mind firm on racing, but the idea had been so enticing, such a temptation to try out his new exhaust, to set the floor a-flames with the lusty sound, he had filled out the form and taken the money out of the bank just in case.
- If weather permits then yeh. Don't see why not.
his father gave a small lopsided smile
- Yeah...well...just take care and give us a bell when you get there
Julian gave his dad a strong nod and a sly wink. He pulled out of the driveway, aimed his bike at the end of the road, gave a final salute to his dad and pulled away, the revs causing a few neighbours to come out and see which beast had just emerged into their street.
Champion.

* * *

His foot rested heavily on the pedal as he dismounted. Removing his helmet, he saw a young girl looking over at him. There were other girls around who were either stepping off their own bikes, or were just standing around with their companions, but this girl in particular caught his eye. Standing on her own, Julian couldn't work out if she was alone or if she had come on her own bike and in that case, which was her's?

(green eyes glinting coyly, light auburn hair waving gently in the breeze, skin clear as a beach pebble)

She caught him looking at her and blushed a light rose, her eyes immediately falling to the ground. His heart rate quickened and he smiled. She lifted her eyes back to him and smiled shyly when she saw his.
He jumped as he felt his phone go off and searched his pockets. A text.

(Call or txt me wen u get this m8. bit worried. seem 2b takin ur time. mums startin 2 do her nut)

(rrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrr rrrrrrrr rrrr...hello?)
- dad it's me. Just got here
(What took you so long? Was expecting a call at least half an hour ago)
- Yeah sorry, traffic was a bit intense. There's so many bikes here. It's sick.
(Ok...well, take care alright? And enjoy yourself. Oh and if you race, only do it if the conditions are good ok mate?)
- Don't worry dad, I’ll be fine. I'll give you a call before I get back home ok? Talk to you later.
(Ok...bye)

Julian flicked his phone off and looked up again to find the girl gone. He looked around, but she was nowhere in sight. Comforting himself in the knowledge that she may see him race later, he wandered off to the building to give in his application form.

- That's one nifty bike you have there
Julian looked up having dismounted his bike and met the grey eyes of a man in his fifties whose bright eyes told quite a different story.

(You're only as old as the person within)

- That was an intense race...

(It was a close one, a very close one: the final race of tonight between the GSXR13 and the ZX12R will confirm the winner)

- Cheers mate, Hayabusa GSXR13, yet to let me down
- You done this kind of thing before?
the grey eyes roamed admiringly over the petrol tank and gleaming engine of the freshly polished bike.
- Nope, I'm a junior
There was a nod of appreciation
- You'll get far...you have potential. I like how you handled your bike just then.

(May the force be with you young Julian, he said placing a hand on the young man's shoulder)

Julian grinned with pride
- Cheers mate
- Did you see who you were racing just now?
- No idea...looked like a chick though...too skinny for a bloke...weird...not many do race
- Not badly skilled though
- Not half
There was a brief pause, then
- I run a school up on the A406, on the north circular near the Ace Cafe. I think you'd excel a great deal more if you joined. Just gives tips and lessons on how to use your bike to its advantage. The 3rd Level up from a CBT and you'll get a certificate of proof, which will allow your insurance to come down. Fancy it?
- Sounds fantastic! Definitely
- right then, what's your number?
Julian gave it to him.
- Perfect...I'm gonna grab a cuppa. Good luck in the final. I'll be watching you...
a wink was given and he wandered off.
Julian watched his stout figure moving then turned as he felt someone approach him
- You were impressive just now...
Julian's heart leapt as he saw the young girls fingers glide respectfully over the bike's handlebars as she inspected the object.

(Long auburn hair, coy eyes...)

- I...er...thanks
- You nervous about the final?
Julian gave a shrug and chuckled, then stopped himself before he sound too conceited.
- A bit, but that's only cos this is my first time and besides nerves are the best thing for the race, gets your heart going and your adrenaline pumping so you ride harder.
The girl smiled, bringing a blush to his cheeks. Seeing him blush, her smile became softer and fonder.
- I'm Julian by the way, from West London
he held out his hand, saw the glove then removed it. She took his hand and shook
- My name is Rea, but I make everyone call me Pepa, after my middle name Philippe and I'm from everywhere

(the sea may have a beginning, but who knows where it may end)

Julian frowned in response and tilted his head enquiringly

- I come from Cordoba. Well, I was born in Buenos Aires, but due to political strife, my family have moved a lot. I myself like to travel so I've travelled most of South America and Europe and I've ended up here. I may move onto Africa to see my friend there and do some travelling

(the heart leapt and the stomach dropped despondently...Please don't go)

but we'll see. After all my family are scattered pretty much everywhere so it makes no difference where I land. Every where is home for me.
- But you have such a clean English accent. The only hint that you're not from here is your appearance.
- I left my home when I was fairly young with my brother Paulo. He stayed in Venezuela, but I couldn't keep still and continued to move around. England is the only country I've settled in long enough as I tired of travelling for a while. So I guess I've picked up the accent. Plus everywhere you go, you study English, so in times that I've studied, I've picked up more there.
Julian nodded as he listened finding it incredible that such a vulnerable looking girl could do so much in her life, so young. Then it hit him. He had been wondering what had been so recognisable about the driver who had raced against him. He looked at her attire.
- Hang on, did I just come close call with you?
She grinned and nodded
- Jesus you were brilliant. It's you who I've got to race against now right?
- You sound surprised...don't think a girl could do as well as you?
- God no...no that's not what I meant, it's just...dunno, I've never ridden against a girl before...

(especially one I feel I want to spend the rest of my life with...)

- How long have you been riding for?
- How do you think I made my way around the world?
- You rode your way around the world? Mother of God, you've lived my dream
Rea giggled at his reaction and look at her watch.
- Anyway, I have to go so I'll see you at the final ok? May the best man win...
- Or girl.
he smiled softly at her. she returned it and strolled off.

***

Julian turned his helmet to his right, his eyes greeted by Rea's blue and purple helmet. He flicked up his visor before they prepared their wheels for the race.
- Rea
she turned
- Nervous?
Julian felt her eyes bore into his as she deciphered the emotions in her heart.
- I have been driving much of my life. I should be laughing inside at how easy this will be, and yet I'm in deep anticipation of how this race will turn out...for both of us.
Julian felt his heart go strangely warm.
- Well, good luck to you Rea
- And to you too.
Flicking down his visor, Julian inched his bike forward, squeezing his front brake on and let his bike rip. He could feel his bike swaying as the burnout worked its way throughout the tire, preheating it to maintain the best performance throughout the race. He tensed his legs, forcing the bike under his control and subdued the gentle swaying. The smell of burning rubber slipped under his helmet as he heard Rea performing the same task on her ZX12R. He looked ahead as he slowly let out his breaks and swallowed instinctively as he saw the tire marks of previous more experienced riders in front of him, legends that had made their mark in the biking world.
Feeling the rhythm of his heart slowly increase the same way the speedometer had done in his dream, he made his way back. He glanced across again at Rea, but was unable to see her face as she concentrated on getting her bike up to the line. He gave the throttle a few soft jolts as he pushed his way to the starting mark.
Looking out of the corner of his eye, he saw the 'Christmas Lights' announcing

(amber)
(amber)

he arrived at the marking

then

(amber)

(ambergreen)

and they were off....

Julian's 0.2 reaction time gave him a strong start
Rea slowly catching up to him
Julian's Predator making the owner proud by giving the bike some assistance in speed.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as the race continued with

Rea,
then Julian
Rea slowly closing in
Julian just out reaching her
Whilst Rea demonstrated her biking skills
Both bikers Julian and
Rea making the tension unbearable for the crowd as they drew head to head in the last few metres

Then


A loud bang seemed to fill the air, seconds before Julian reached the victory line.
Filled with a sense of exhilaration, which only lasted a few seconds, he turned his bike sharply to see where Rea was, as she should have appeared in his line of sight after he went over the line.
His stomach fell
His lungs seemed to stop working and his head began to spin

"Ambulance!"

Paramedics covered the area where Rea was meant to be

(ants swarming an injured or dying prey, to take it back to their cavern in the ground and)

Julian leapt on his bike and made his way to the area milling with officials, unable to swallow the bolus that seemed to cover his windpipe.
No one seemed to hear him
Or see him
He pushed his way to the front where Rea was lying, but the female paramedic blocked him

- what's wrong with her?? What happened?? Someone tell me!?
- She had an accident just second before you crossed the line...an oil line burst spraying oil onto the hot engine and the rear wheel, which as you know causes the bike end to loose control, so she was forced to lay the bike down, preventing the wheel from slipping and she was sent along the floor into the wall. I think her leg and arm are broken and she knocked her head. She'll be aright son; she could have been a lot worse.
Julian turned and saw the grey eyes again, sorrow filling his own eyes.
- It looked a lot worse than I'm sure it actually is. Hang on.
he pushed through the paramedics who were now preparing to lift Rea into an ambulance on the stretcher
- Can this lad talk to her? I think he befriended her before the race and he's pretty messed up. He needs to see she's ok
The paramedic looked over at Julian
- ok but remember she may not make too much sense. She’s had a nasty bump and worse.

(The stinging tears, the burning in the throat and the rising heat in the face, only when he had been a kid had he felt like that when his grandfather had died

- hey...
Rea opened her eyes through the pain, her small face just visible through the mask
- Hey...you won...well done
Julian gulped a laugh
- But we both would have if this hadn't...
silence
- I may be going back to my country
he nodded
silence
he looked into her eyes and saw her trying to speak to him urgently through them

(contact me...look me up...find me...)

Julian could see her mouth moving and leaned in

(Rodriguez...Rea Philippe Rodriguez...)

Julian nodded and took her hand
- I'll find you
she laughed
- you're so sweet...Uurgh!
- Ok ok that's enough chit chat; we have to get this girl to a hospital

they lifted Rea waist height and prepared to board her into the ambulance
- I want to go with her...please let me go with her
he felt a strong hand on his shoulder and prepared himself to wrestle against a burly policeman, but turned round to see grey eyes again
-l let her go, son and go home. Look her up if she means so much to you ok? Right now she needs rest and family.

Julian closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the ambulance was making its way out of the gates ahead and turning right in the direction of the hospital.
- Get yourself home, mate, and get some rest. You'll need it. They'll contact you about the result of this race. And remember, don't give up on her.

That night Julian lay in bed listening to the silence that filled his room. He felt a change within. His parents didn't know what had happened, neither did his brother, but first thing tomorrow he would find out every detail he could of Rea, knowing if she wanted him to get into contact, she would leave him a trail of bread crumbs...
Finally, exhausted he turned over and closed his eyes to accept the sleep he had so stubbornly refused...

(He was in the race again, the breeze blowing through his visor the speedometer rising and his motor purring like a kitten. He looked around him, the thousands of faceless spectators cheering on either side of him and...
And on the sidelines he saw her...cheering him on...filling him with pride...and love...her eyes filled with hope, her hair flowing gently and her voice calling out to him...

- we'll meet again Julian...I know we will)

© 15/12/04 (F.Grillo)

Not With You Beside Me...

Poetry is hard. I would say anyone can tell you that, but there's a chance there's someone out there who can pour poetry out of their minds as easily as a person can pour orange juice into a glass. I'm not one of those people.
Sometimes, however, the muse decides to dance her way down from whereever she's hiding and present herself to me. An instant later, the poem is flowing from my typing hands as quickly as water does down a clear river (I don't know why I keep coming up with this imagery). There are the poems which I write...then leave. Curiously enough, they then turn out to be my proudest works. I'm not saying I'm extremely happy with the poem I've put in this post, but it comes very close. Admittedly, it's not a work of pure art and genuis, dear God no. But it's something that comes from the heart and fits what I felt at that moment so well, which is why I'm not so concerned about it's structure or rhythm.
I think I was having a bit of a tough time, and Tom eased me through it, giving me that extra bit of hope that I needed to lighten up my situation. Later, this poem came to mind:

I look into your eyes,
and i see my face inside.
I feel the warmth within,
the border becoming thin.

when I feel your arms around me,
I just know you feel the same.
The cold I felt around me,
thus no longer threatened to maime:
not with you beside me.

When I feel your gentle caress,
It sends shivers down my spine.
You've made me such a mess.
I know I'll never cross the line:
Now with you beside me.

When you first passed by my eyes,
I thought life would never be the same.
You've softened my cries,
I'll never suffer pain:
Not with you beside me.

No...not with you beside me.

© *exact date not remembered, though original work kept* 2005 (F.Grillo)

To my cousin on her 16th

I wanted the first piece I put down here to be something snappy, so I thought i'd put this one in. It's a card I wrote to my cousin Jessica on her 16th Birthday. I figured why buy her one when I can make it.
There are some lines in it which don't work I admit, but writing poetry, unless it comes to me automatically, is hard. The first two bit flowed like water, but you can tell where I struggled. I like it

Never mind...here it is...To Jessica:

You’ve had your ups
You’ve had your downs
But you’ve risen up
By many bounds

No longer is
That girl so young
Who’d follow me with
None stop tongue

Your questions, they did pursue me
“Why this, why that”
And I, still young
Would give you all this tat

You’re a woman now
Mature and grown
With jobs and friends
And much to learn

I’ve watched you develop
I’ve watched you mature
No matter your attitude
I see you demure

Let your life teach you
Let knowledge thrive
You’re still so young
Of heart and mind

You’ll soon be free
Patience gains success
Search for that dream
You’re supported the whole way

© 02/08/04 (F.Grillo)

Immortalising the past

Ok I'm still getting to grips a little with blogs as they tend to have a mind of their own. I've uploaded a new photo but I don't know when it'll take and start showing so I'll put a description here just for the sake of it if/when it does appear.

Me...In a hole...Need I say more?

Yes I do. My good friend Laura and I went to a castle outside of London with a Hungarian friend of hers. We were wondering around the ruined castle when we walked into the 'kitchen' area. There was a big hole there. The hole called to me. I climbed into the hole and much fun was had. Laura took a photo to immortalise the fun that was had in the hole and all was well.

Searching for photos, I've been surfing a particular server I used to frequent to, but no longer do now, I found, to my glee, several photos which I had taken in my younger years (aaah..time of youth). I'm feeling compelled to put them on here as, I don't know what I did, what I pressed, but somehow, some months back, I lost all the photos I took on webcam, marking all the moments of sheer madness I had with my dear Laurin. Fortunately, some of the ones I thought I'd lost, are still alive (so to speak) today. I warn, I was a bit of a freak when I was a teen. Even more so than now (is that possible?). I'm going to pick selectively so keep an eye out for them.
(Forgive me if my written English isn't making much sense, I'm in the kind of mood only coffee can induce (without actually having drunk any) and I'm excited about this weekend (LARP). That can do with things to me.

In the beginning....

Hello, this is Frankie, inviting you to view and enjoy my works. I've created this blog as the first one I produced didn't go quite as planned. It's still around, but I'm going to concentrate my efforts more on this one now, knowing how Blogs work and how I can play it to my advantage.

On this page, you will be able to take a look at my works such as short stories, poetry and some illustrations. I've been a little cautious in the past about displaying my works online as I'm worried about someone taking any ideas I may have and I miss out on the credit. I'm not amazingly proud of my works that I'm convinced they will all be stolen, I'd just rather be safe than sorry as I treasure my works no matter how pants they are.

Anyway, enough rambling. Enjoy.
(don't ask about the title...as many of my creative friends would understand, it's a bugger coming up with them!)