T-Mac #3

Story starters! I often find that my writing is pretty good for the first few sentences and then the wheels come off the wagon and whatever I’m working on spirals into mediocrity after that. So, rather than writing one response to this prompt, I’m going to write a few of them and just eject before they start to suck...hopefully.

Attempt #1:

Mom always warned me that if I kept making that face, it would stay that way. Well, she was right. Much like “don’t feed the bears” and “don’t mix beer and hard alcohol,” that little lesson flew right over my head and now I’m stuck with a face that resembles a creature off of The X-Files. I would be lying if I said having a mouth the width of a Frisbee didn’t have some advantages. For one, I don’t have to cut up my steak at all, and for another, I’m going to be the subject of a very special Nip/Tuck next season. So I’ve got that going for me.

Attempt #2:

When I tell people that my sister and I are home schooled, most people roll their eyes and assume that we’re freakishly awkward, hyper religious kids who build houses out of popsicle sticks for 14 hours a day while learning about why the world is flat and how Rush Limbaugh is the second coming of Jesus. Really though, we’re just regular kids. We have friends and sleep-overs and own a really awesome easy bake oven. I do gymnastics and my sister competes in science fairs. Our days are fun because we love each other, and that’s what I think of when I look at this picture.

Attempt #3:

My sister and I were told that we needed a talent for the World’s Most Beautiful Child Pageant at Scottsdale Mall and this was the best we could do. Honestly, we’re just not that talented and that might just hold us back in the world of beauty pageants. Oh well. At least we’ll be the most entertaining contestants...unless someone knows how to juggle. Stupid jugglers.

TKO #3

TKO Question #3

Be inspired by this photograph. Write.



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Post due Sunday.

I am gonna keep posting prompts for T-Mac and Tandy Hard at least :) Is anybody else planning on playing too? It's not worth podcasting when there are not votes because there are no posts.

Tandy Hard #2

The deep smell of ebony wood, the taste of the fibrous reed-slightly bitter. These were the first sensations of a day that seemed would never come. Amber stones of rosin scattered, half hidden in their cases, were jewels that would prime the bows for their magic motion. The smells of various species of wood intermingled with the reflection of their curvy shapes in the funneled horns of brass. Silence as the director approached the podium. And then the down stroke, and the music of the orchestra.

When I was a little girl, I danced to Fantasia. You know the one-where Mickey becomes this magician who enchants brooms to do his work? I would dance around my grandparents living room, moving to the music, oblivious to the pictures on the tube. At that point I figured a wanted to make those sounds. I wanted to be a musician. I started learning clarinet.

I didn’t get very far. There were a bajillion clarinets, and most of them were better than me. So I stayed in the middle of the pack skill wise. But in high school, (partly because of my mediocrity), I was assigned a new instrument, the bassoon. They needed a new player since a senior had graduated. The incentive was that if you were first or second chair, (the top two players of that instrument) you would get to play in the orchestra on Fridays.

The orchestra had played in Carnegie Hall the year before and they were good. Damn good. Their director was on of those few teachers that can inspire and push their students to achieve the best of their ability. Being in the orchestra would mean being a part of something wonderful, an entity of 35 people, who together made a unified, amazing and moving statement with their sound. A sound that had taught me to dance as a child.

The first step was memorizing the chromatic scales, then the major, the minor. My fingers were shorter than most other bassoonists, and the combined repetitive motion and the stretch would make my hands constantly ache until they were used to it. Holding the double reed was a challenge as well. There was no mouth piece to provide structural support so only my lips would have to provide the vibration needed to make the sound. (I became a really good kisser after playing for a while). And there was practice everyday, fighting an old, out of tune instrument, forcing it by shear will power to make the notes on the page.

But finally, I had an audition with the director. And I nailed it. Completely! Bam! And I was in. I was in the first practice, I and really cried. Moved that I was finally part of the sound.