Scarlet Magazine

By Andrew J. Baran

K’s Scarlet Blog: And So It Begins…

Posted on | February 22, 2011 | No Comments

Alice, Sweetheart

Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly...

After a few attempts over the last few years of doing “Daily [Deviations, Comics, Journals, Et Ceteras]”, I once again take a big ol’ stab. This time (hopefully to soon be “THE time”) it is a blog for the online magazine, Scarlet. So, I take a big breath, stretch out my back, and begin.

I imagine this blog will discuss many things, as well as include some things that populated my Xanga ages ago. Generally, I will pour out my creative ridiculousness, whether it pertains to past, current, or imagined projects. Being resurrected from Xanga limbo will be the“ _______’s of the Day”: Word, Picture, Proverb, Quote, Riddle, and more.

First, I direct you to a poem I wrote a while back; its purpose, to give you a glimpse at the rowdy grey matter swimming in my skull… (Sorry for all the crossed out o’s, I’m having some trouble with the HTML.)
ooooooooooooooooooooooooo
“The Archives of Thought”
ooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Just keep going,
Keep untangling,
There are always knots to untie,
Always gaffes to undo,
o
Just keep moving,
Keep arranging,
There are always floors to clean,
Always favours to lay,
o
Tables, chairs, dresser drawers,
Tabletops, chair seats, hidden partitions,
Surround and consume and saturate,
Every corner of the room,
o
And then, in the centre,
A lone desk,
Gargantuan, goliath,
Shrewdly insightful,
o
And spread across the wooden plain,
A plethora of papers,
Loose-leaf, washi,
Papyrus, parchment,
o
Some in notebooks,
Some in tablets,
Filled to each margin and corner,
Filled with scribbles and scratches and sketches,
o
Each sheet circling the eye,
The eye of the hurricane of flurrying thoughts,
Some pages shoved and others delicately set,
Enfolded within leathern winged bindings,
o
Silvery needles snap up and fly,
Swooping through wrapped up bobbins,
Snagging outstretched fingers twined,
Searching for crisp vellum’s edge to sew,
o
There are those pages that are saved,
Those pages that are not lost in buried boxes,
The pages that continue to flutter around the centre alter,
Stitches of thought that patiently wait for their time to appear…
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
More to come. Keep checking back. <grins>

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