life of a georgia Artist

Holiday lights are key to discovering happiness in the darkness of winter. He told her to meet him by the children’s carousel. She was a little early and paced around it in a circle. People began to stare at her, and she started to walk away just as he walked up . Melanie could recognize James from a mile away. He was rock-n-roll through and through. He had the stereotypical rock-n-roller long straight jet black hair, black leather jacket that looked so worn in it was ready to fall to threads, black boots big enough to stomp anyone who tried to get on his stage, and he always looked like he had a stubble of a beard, even after he just shaved. Damn that is sexy she thought. He had tattoos of music notes, skulls, and tribal ink on his neck, hands, and arms. He looked like an extreme rocker who could kick anyone's ass. Why had she agreed to meet him? He was her deceased boyfriend’s bestie, and her guitar tutor; nothing good could happen from meeting him out in th...

Music to sooth the soul, heal grief, and aid in heartbreak. Melanie sat on her sturdy IKEA chair, held his guitar for the first time since he died, and strummed a few chords. The tears fell and she found she just could not play. Jolting up, she placed his guitar back down and ran to the bed as the tears flooded out of her. Her nose filled with snot. Her head a lead balloon. Why had life taken him from her just as they were going to be married? He left his guitar to her. He always wanted her to play, but she only made it through 15 minutes of one lesson, learned two chords, and stormed out crying in pain from her misery of missing him. It was a Saturday morning and Melanie had already had enough of life. She struggled to not give up and just go back to bed each day since his death. Wake up, force herself to shower, nibbling enough to barely stay alive. She was in limbo; to live or die and she did not care which won. It was so sudden his death, she had no time to say g...

M elanie took out her small red notebook . She was determined to write 5000 words today . They may not be her best work, but 5000 words they shall be . She wrote one word then another. Her character started out shattered and depressed. She was in pieces emotionally and mentally. She needed to move her story line forward and was stuck. She left her pen in her notebook and she walked away. She started her morning over again. Reboot, admit defeat! She had writer’s block and it was a huge stumbling block. Not a pebble, but a mountain of a writing block . She got a new cup of coffee as she noticed her first one sitting cold and untouched over by her writing desk. She put the second cup down like the first and decided perhaps she needed to do something else . She walked into her bathroom to shower. Maybe if she freshened up and took a shower her writing would be freshened up too. She needed a change of environment and to actually drink coffee. Freshly showered Melanie grabbed her ...

O nce the swirl of the mist landed from the chaos that just ensued there was clearly a layer of soot that needed to be cleaned up. There were piles of soot all over the floor in front of the stone fireplace. She looked next to the mantle where she kept her broom, but it had moved itself. She knew it feared being burned up by all the embers in the fireplace while the silver box burned. It clearly was no where to be found.She knew not to even go hunting for the broom. Its fear was to great, so she tried to summon it to her. She could feel it pulling and its hesitation in coming to her side.She quieted her mind, told the broom in her mind that all was calm, this time her pull was stronger and it came to her hand. The broom seemed to be trembling in her hands, she held it gently, soothing it in her mind. The broom almost seemed to lean into her saying all was going to be okay now. Quietly and calmly she began to sweet the soot into the fireplace, but the broom’s bristles ...

The next part of Melanie's story! Magnifying Mystical Creatures: Chapter 2 She opened her tiny magical silver box each morning. She eagerly awaited each night to see what it held for her. It produced a new surprise at dawn. The item that appeared was to be used for different spells, for different people, and even though she did not know the spell yet or the person it was to be used on, she knew the silver box was filled with magic just for her. It had been in her family for as long as she could remember. She yearned each night for the dawn to hasten. It never did. It crept along as if it was injured and had to crawl like an insignificant snail. Upon the new day’s arrival she sprang to her silver box, her feet bare, in her black velvet robe, which was draped over her shoulders, and her hair flaring behind her. Her eyes wide with excitement of what would arrive in her silver box. She swiftly opened the box and gasped as her eyes gazed on an ornate antique silver ...

I have been working on a series of shorts about my witch Melanie and I thought I would share the first story with you now. Writing for me is a virtual vomit of the voices in my head. Sounds gross, but honestly it allows my head to focus again once the voices are out. I hope you enjoy the story. If you do let me know and I will share some more of her story. :D She sat holding her empty silver box . At one point it was filled with ingredients to sustain her mystic powerful potions. Now gently in her hands, as if any second it will fall to the floor and be lost forever, she held it open. She felt the powers she once held fluttering out of her forever. Her magic came from within, but she always believed it was the potions she possessed in her silver box that had a much greater magic then she ever could. She wept as she looked at the empty silver box. She needed it to be filled again so that she could remain in this town, this place, and continue to help the people who needed her ...