[Charcoal on Face]

I opened the box and fished around. I had to take nearly almost all of the contents out in order to find the pieces I was looking for. I pulled out the artist's tape, scissors, conte crayons, "viewfinder", glue, graphite, micron pens, and black pastels and simply pushed them around. I finally found my prized possessions: charcoal pencil, vine charcoal, compressed charcoal, smearing rag, kneaded eraser, and my click eraser. Yes, those were the items I needed this morning. The music in the background held a steady rap beat. I was ready to draw. I drew several layers of heavy charcoal and smeared it off, creating a warm gray tone on my white paper. I highlighted light spots with my erasers. I used my compressed charcoal to darken the shadows of the objects I was drawing. I repeated this process several times. Placing my charcoal stick down, I stepped back from my "masterpiece." I turned my head this way and that observing every aspect of the drawing. I approached it once again, taking my charcoal stick and my rag in hand. I made a few more quick smudges and smears, and stepped back again. I was done. I placed all of my items back in my packed box. As I bent over to place them back, strands of red hair soon covered my right eye, tickling my face. Without a second thought, I reached my hand up to place these stray hairs back. After I had done so, I brought my hand back and looked at it with utter dismay. My hand was black, just completely dirty. And to think that I had just touched my face and hair! Not only did I have charcoal on my drawing paper, I had it on my face and a little in my hair and all over my hands. I turned to one of my friends in class. "Is it [really] bad?" I inquired. He leaned in closer. I thought just to take a closer look. "Now it is," he said as he brought his hands up to my face and wiped them off, per say. His hands were as black as mine, if not darker. He now had a smurk on his face. I stood, momentarily, with a look of sheer astonishment on my charcoaled face. "What?!" I finally blurted out. His smile grew bigger. I can play this game too. I quickly reached my hands up to his face and marked him. He too stood in shock at my actions. He tried to mark me again but I dodged him quite surprisingly. I was able to succesfully mark him again just as he marked my face. With his last mark, he had clearly won the charcoal battle. We walked over to the sink area, over which hangs a rather small mirror. We both stood in front of the mirror, soaking in our new appearance. Our faces were laden with charcoal slashes; our hands were dirty; our fingertips were solidly black, like a reverse Michael Jackson. We still stood in shock and finally broke into a loud laughter. Then we decided it was finally time to attempt to clean ourselves up. I'm not even quite sure how long it took to get my fingertips to a light gray tone. Then it was on to my face. I had gotten most of the marks off, except for the one in which he won the charcoal battle. It too looked like a light tone of gray, a mere shadow on my face. He cleaned up pretty well, without any real noticeable wounds from our war. After class was over, we walked away from the battlefield, without even looking back. Now with my bag upon my shoulder, drawing board in my left hand, tea thermos in my right, I opened the door, leading out into a cold, unknown world. I took my first breath of this cold air. Deeply I breathe in and blow out, seeing my breath quickly dissipate. The fall air is crisp. Wind blows the leaves, which fall to the pavement. The wind also blows my red hair, blocking my right eye's view. I reached my hand up and pushed my hair aside, out of my eye's view. As I brought my hand back down, I panicked. I was sure I would see that my hand was black with charcoal. But no worry, my hand was sparkly clean.

Sad Songs

[Too many sad words make for sad sad song]
[FRAMES]

Me?....Trust?

So yeah, I have trust issues. So? What's wrong with that? It's never hurt anybody but myself.

[Oh but it has]

Lyrics: Jaded

I look at you
hoping to catch your eye
to see inside
But you look away
your eyes searching for hope
of a better life
Because you're

JADED
INACCESSIBLE
SO HURT AND TORN
YOU LET NO ONE INSIDE

I touch your face
to turn it my way
But you refuse and turn away
You long to be held
to be cared for
But you push me away
when I try to caress you
Because you're

JADED
INACCESSIBLE
SO HURT AND TORN
YOU LET NO ONE INSIDE

What makes you so far away
although you're so close to me?
What makes you push me away
when I give you what you want
and really need?
Will you ever let me in
when I'm knocking on your heart's door?
Will you ever let me in
to fix the hurt you feel inside?
But you're

JADED
INACCESSIBLE
SO HURT AND TORN
YOU LET NO ONE INSIDE

JADED
INACCESSIBLE
SO HURT AND TORN
YOU LET NO ONE INSIDE

Will you ever let me in?




written by: manda 2008

The First Rake of Fall

With blistery and calloused hands, I put the rake away. My boots were dirty. My nose was wet from raindrops. My hands: shivering. Today was the first rake of fall. And long overdue might I add. The colors of the leaves painted the yard. So many colors! Yellow. Green. Orange. Brown. Red. Mixtures. I almost felt bad for raking the leaves up, knowing they would decompose in a compost pile somewhere. How could I subject these beautiful leaves to such a fate?! Frankly, I had a hard time. I stopped many times and just stared at the leaves blanketing the grass. I crouched down and examined each leaf. Leaves are amazing, I found out today. I also found that I LOVE raking. *What?
__
Yes, I love raking. But it hasn't always been that way. On the contrary, my friend. In years past, I have utterly despised raking! I didn't see the point in raking up leaves when the yard would be covered with more the next day. The leaves were usually wet and heavy which made it more difficult to rake and then bag. They weren't even suitable to jump into! Most definitely not worth it then. But this time was different. I *wanted* to rake. It's amazing how much fun raking can be if you *want* to rake. I suited up: shirt, jacket, coat, mittens, knee-socks, pants, rainboots, and most important: the rake. I braved the cold weather and started the task. I soon stopped and stood, mid-yard. I looked at all the leaves. How amazing! I never realized how many leaves there actually are. Even though I'm sure some of them migrated over from other yards, via wind. I learned so many things from my raking today.

1] There are ALOT of leaves!

2] It is much easier to rake the leaves when they are NOT wet.

3] A good, strong rake is coveted when raking wet leaves.

4] It is not advantageous to jump into leaf piles filled with sticks. You are subject to being poked. *Lesson learned the hard way.

5] There are so many different kinds of leaves. Small. Big. Faded yellow. Bright yellow. Red. Brown. Veiny. Smooth. Sharp edges. Smooth edges. Orange. Green.

6] After raking into piles, IMMEDIATELY bag leaves, especially on a windy day. Just trust me on this one.

7] Beware of worms that live under the dirt under the leaves. It hurts them when you rake over them. *I raked over Mr. Jeffrey. Don't worry, I said sorry.

8] Slow down and really look at the leaves. Look at everything about the leaf. The leaf is amazing. Everything that the leaf consists of is amazing! Believe me!*

9] Have a good attitude. *Want* to rake.

10] Expect to be *amazed*. Be *amazed*. Have *marvelousness* in your eyes.
___
I look forward to more leaves falling tomorrow. *Psst! I heard it's supposed to be windy tomorrow. Yay!* I honestly cannot wait until the Second Rake of Fall. Geez! I am falling in love with Fall. It's marvelous.