HAPPY NEW YEAR

Ten....
Nine...
Eight.....
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Three...
Two....
One....


Happy New Year!!!!!!

Hershey Kiss Post

-Ava ♫

People dressed warmly

It's been very cold out lately.
(But still no snow since October! Fingers  crossed that we'll get some...)

-A♫

Haiku a day

From now until January 15th, I've decided to write one haiku a day, an idea which comes from my friend Nathan at Amherst New Writers Club (http://amherstawc.blogspot.com--totally check it out, it's a great blog ☺).
At the end of that three-week period I'll pick my favorites and share them.
So, yeah! I thought that writing a short poem every day was a nice idea.
Actually, the original idea was to do a haiku every day for a year, but I am hopeless at that kind of long term thing. It's going to be a real challenge to do it steadily for even just three weeks. (I once decided that I was going to become ambidextrous and made the goal of simply writing the alphabet and the numbers with my non-dominant hand every day for a year. I think I did it once, the day I thought of it. It was then completely forgotten.)
I've been having a nice, relaxing winter break and I hope everyone else is too!
Cheers!
-Ava♫

:)

Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah to everyone!
Hope everyone is having a fun winter break. ☺

-Ava

Happy Holidays

It's winter! Hooray!

These are some pictures from the amazing gingerbread house party that happens every year--

Before...                                                                                                                                                             

In the middle...












And after.

Happy Holidays to everyone and happy new year!

Cheers,

♫♫Ava♫♫

Hello

Hi Everyone,
Sorry that I haven't posted in a while...I was planning to but the computer is having some problems so I can't right now. Once it's working again I'll post some pictures.
Happy Holidays!

Cheers,
Av@

Fishbowl

Flight: A poem

The whispering of wings, waiting to spread

I want to be like the birds and cut a path through the sky and the earth

what has never

Existed

does now.

I want to be the sharp, ringing realization of the trees

when they see me

The scent of pine in a cold breeze.

I want to be the

Circle

Oange mushroom clouds in the sky

I want to be like the birds and

Leap and

slide and

Make my way

up,

all the way up,

to the

Top

Lady Caraway

I think I'll make a whole series of pictures like this.

I was inspired to begin some drawings of people and landscapes in some kind of mysterious, different place by the book Amarant: The Flora and Fauna of Atlantis by a Lady Botanist, by Una Woodruff.

This is a really interesting book with really beautiful illustrations--if you see it somewhere, pick it up! Look at it! It's great.

Cheers,
Ava

Dentists......

Does anybody remember my Evil Dentists drawing I posted in October?

Now, I have another dentist-themed drawing to share! Yaaay.

I really really dislike dentists. They're so terrible! They're scary. They inflict pain! They pull out your teeth!
And yesterday I had to visit them. It was a sad, sad, thing.
But, I did bring in my pocket a little tiny sketchbook. And I did a pencil sketch while I was waiting in the chair!

Yup.

But back to my fear of dentists--apparently there is an official phobia name for that--dentaphobia!! (Suprise!)
There's also a whole website called Dental Fear. With a whole bunch of ridiculous questions. Tee hee. (Actual Q&A sample:


Q. Can the fear itself be treated?
Absolutely. There are psychologists who treat fears such as fear of flying, fear of driving and fear of dentists. Through a process called desensitization you can learn how to relax and overcome your fears.)

Ha ha ha. I'm not that afraid.

Jayashree Story, Part II

This, by the way, is still chapter one. Just the next part of it.

The day carries on. I go out and gather the wild mushrooms called morels, the ones found at the bases of trees, stopping each time I find one to feel its odd, shriveled shape in my fingers. Summer will be here soon.

This is the way the days go, blowing away like the carefree wind that whips through the trees. Days pass like weeks; the weeks are short as days. It all changes so easily.

On Sunday, it’s finally necessary that I go to town. I carefully, strategically, go to different shops then the last time I was here. People don’t recognize me; ask if I’m new here. This is what I want. I give everyone the same answer.

“I’m just a traveler. Only passing through.”

This isn’t true, of course. I've lived, alone, in the woods for more than a year now.

I was cut off from the rest of the world. Nobody but the wolves ever would find their way through the forest to my home. I was always by myself, and I was fine with that.

I was the unknown hermit of Kuning-daun forest, which spreads like a stain through Lesser Taniya. I was independent. I didn’t need anyone, and no one needed me.

Until Jaya came. Now I find myself caring for this young girl, this girl who doesn’t talk, with an unknown past and an uncertain future. And suddenly I’m not the hermit anymore.

Jayashree Story, Part 1

Hello everyone!! I'm finally posting something! (Sorry that hasn't happened for a while.)

This is the beginning of a story I began a while ago, as the backstory to a poem I wrote first. I have made it my goal to finish this story*, and then I can share the poem with you all as the ending. Enjoy.

*Even though I love writing--sososo much--I have some serious problems actually finishing what I start and not just moving on to the next story beginning.

~CHAPTER ONE~

She came in the middle of the night. It was 1:33 in the morning, to be exact, and in the middle of a wild rainstorm that pounded the windows and drenched the world. There she was, on the doorstep. Surrounded by red roses that were the same color as her long tiered skirt. She wore a black jacket that was made for someone twice her size. Her eyes were wild. Like a scared animal’s. A dirty piece of paper was crumpled in her hand.

That was three weeks ago, when Jaya first came to me. And she is still as much of a mystery as she was then.

Her full name is Jayashree Hitendra. She came from a long way away. And all other details are shrouded in immense secrecy.

I believe she’s mute. Or, she just refuses to talk. Either way, she has never uttered a single word in my presence. The few things I know are from notes left for me around the house.

The first: I am Jayashree Hitendra.

The second: I have come far.

And, the last: I’m sorry I can’t tell you any more than that.

But there are things I know, even though that’s all she’s told me. Most of all, I can tell she has suffered. Maybe been abused, I don’t know. Her eyes look scared. Darting. I can tell the red mark above her eyebrow is a birthmark, and the one that spreads from the side of her neck to her cheek. But there are scars there too. Small, but noticeable—once by her nose, one under her ear.

I don’t know why or how Jayashree is here, but here she is, and she needs protection.

*      *     *     *     *

I wake up early, much earlier than usual. The sun is rising, pale in the sky. I can smell the damp soil outside, cold breeze rushing in through the open window. I stand up and stick my head outside. Wolf tracks are imprinted in the mud—it looks as though they’ve been circling the house. About four sets of paw prints. It doesn’t bother me if they feel like walking around here in the night. The forest is their property and they’ve been kind enough to let me share it with them.

I stand there for a while, taking in the rushing wind and the yellow leaves and the trees against the sky. It’s later now. I might as well get up, open all the windows and air everything out. And say good morning to Jayashree. I dress and walk into the kitchen—there she is, sitting at the small table, just staring off into space.

“Good morning, Jaya.”

She turns her head and stares at me quietly, then looks down at the table. There is a small bowl of blackberries there, still with droplets of dew. I pop one into my mouth—perfectly ripe and warmed slightly by the sun. “Did you pick these?”

Quiet nod.

“Thank you.” I pull up a stool and together we finish the bowl.