IbIt was another Sunday at the Guertena exhibit, the sun shining on the pristine building and lighting the halls, colorful pictures, portraits and sculptures span the interior, glossy and bright. On that day, Ib, a twelve year old girl with long brown hair and scarlet eyes rides towards the art gallery. It had been three years since she had entered that place with her parents, and now she felt ready to come back, alone.Ib by Florrosada12
A single painting had been on her mind in the years since she had gone....
Entitled “The Forgotten Portrait", she had been curious about the man within from the moment she first saw it. Ironically, this painting had been the one thing she remembered from her first visit. Who was the subject? Where did he come from? Why was he ‘forgotten’ if he had been painted? She had researched Guertena’s works in books and on the internet, but never found a source that talked about the man in the picture. Surely, there had to be some in
History AssignmentI've taken a break from work in the village this morning. Sometimes it can get very stressful, so every now and then I wander on the beach to have a little time to myself to think. The area is mostly secluded, but very beautiful.History Assignment by Florrosada12
As I walk, staring from my moccasins to the water, a brief speck in the ocean catches my eye. It looks like a canoe, only bigger, with large white things attached. As I stare at the canoe, it seems to be traveling quickly, and in my direction. Taking a small step back, my eyes widen slightly and my heart beats faster. Why is it coming here? What is it trying to do? As it comes closer, I can see small figures moving around the canoe and sunlight glinting off of a strange material that looks see-through. Then I realize that if I can see the figures, they can see me standing here.
I turn and run back into the bushes and scurry up a tree that is close enough to the beach, yet far enough that I can run away faster if things get bad, in order to wat
Two Paths Diverged In A WoodI followed Robert Frost,Two Paths Diverged In A Wood by HyourinmaruIce
through the thicket and brambles,
the path less traveled by,
and he lead me there.
Then another spilt came up,
and I followed him again,
always taking the path,
where the wild and crazed roamed.
Two paths were always there to take,
but I took the harsher,
and when another came up,
I took it again and again.
The other path taunted me,
and laughed at my determination,
for I was taking the harsher path,
but that path knew me.
It lead my on after Robert Frost had disappeared,
and gently pulled that temptation away,
for I could be me on that path,
and harshness was a price to pay.
Something's thereThere is something close to everyones' heart,Something's there by HyourinmaruIce
and everyday it's being tested....
but we still cling to that one thing
because that's what we have always had.
May it be something as small as...
a stuffed animal,
to as large as your first real drawing,
you have kept it close to your heart,
because you know it means more.
There is always something there,
and when people share what it is,
it's like letting someone see you naked,
and you feel as small as a child,
but you do it anyway...
and not because you have to,
but because you want to.
For what is a human without other humans,
nothing but the expanse of loneliness,
that sits in their heart,
and slowly turns it into ice,
like bitter old hags who only let cats see the goodness still left.
The human touch is something to treasure,
and something one should never let go,
and when you find what is close to your heart,
you should share it,
even if... it... and your heart get's broken.