|Art, by definition, is shared.|
The Long Mirror, Vol 4, LinesI travelled alongThe Long Mirror, Vol 4, Lines by Rashavarak
the lines in my palms
worn there by the toys I've broken
By the hands that I've shaken
the tools I've used
weapons I've wielded
fists I've made
By the holds I've offered
and been offered.
Etched into me by simply existing, I follow the lines of my life, as they continue to sculpt me, in lines on my face my eyes my heart.
The details of me are me, and when I hold your hand, our details meet.
I Am NineI am nineI Am Nine by Rashavarak
and we fought over a playground ball
called each other names
not being mean
but uncertain and not understanding
how words don't always match feelings
I am twelve
and we thought over a phone conversation
called each other nightly
not saying much
but breaking with not being able
to say the words we are feeling
I am seventeen
and we joked over a pizza dinner
called ourselves a couple
not being serious
but seeing each other with eyes
that begin to communicate our feelings
I am twenty four
and we talked about our careers
called ourselves grown up and well
not wanting to fail
but show our success to each other
and the pride that we were feeling
I am thirty six
and we haven't spoken for a while
called once or twice recently
not wanting to lose touch
but we've had to make our choices
and put on hold our feelings
I am forty eight
far away now
recalled a day
when we fought
over a playground ball
and I wonder
do you still have those feelings?
When I first met herI lost an intricate component, a primary color in my life. The kind of loss that melds down your world like unfired clay, removes the delicate lines that throw enchanting shadows and reflect edges of enamored light.When I first met her by Rashavarak
The wind no longer changed and flowed in magical patterns, just blew and washed and wore. The song became a
Eyes closed, I screamed at it.
...but there was no sound. Just the burning of tears and the beating of a heart trying
to beat for another...
Until a warmth in the wind, scented, kind. And a shadow against the glaring blast of realight. I didn't believe. I didn't speak. Ha. Who would be there for me now?
...and I heard her sit behind me, her back to the wind, keeping me safe. I heard her sigh.
"I'm here", she whispered.
And she cried.
======== UPDATED ==============|
Thanks to for my ID. ^_^ Me happy.
OKAY!! No takers on the points thing. SO....
Just for my own enjoyment (and hopefully others), I welcome anyone else's interpretation of my OC, Kellen. It's just an artistic sharing, and kind of a creative challenge.
===== THIS CAN BE DRAWING, PROSE, MUSIC -- ANYTHING. =====
The references, such as they are, can be found in my rashavarak.deviantart.com/gall… folder, also fav.me/d6urdpt and fav.me/d6uffm0
....leaves a lot of room for interpretation, I know, but that's the point. SO, I just thought it would be neat to see other people's interpretations of Kellen.
I will feature a gallery of all submissions. C'mon. She's like cute and cool and stuff.
===== DARE YOU!!!! =========