Archive for July, 2012

I’ve been in denial. As many of you may know I have been writing what I’ve been calling a “story” that I thought may develop into a short story or a novella. I have realized recently that I have been lying to myself about what this story is meant to be. The truth is I have been scared to call it a novel because I didn’t believe I had the right to say I was writing a novel. I have no education in the area of writing besides a University 100 level English so how could I be writing novel?

Today that changed, I had an epiphany, being an artist of any kind does not mean you have to be educated in the area, you have to live it, breath it, believe it. I thought about it and I do live it, I do breath it and thanks to the response I have been getting on the internet and from people closest to me I now believe it! I received some advice from a person on twitter recently, she suggested I start promoting my book now even though it isn’t finished, and my blog is the perfect place to do that, so here goes:

Hi my name is Lindsay, I’m a writer who is writing a novel, it’s called Gray Hayles and it’s an unclassical story of life, love and loss. I’m looking into self publishing and hoping to have it out within the next two years. I won’t rush it though because I know you can’t rush art! If you’re interested, I have 4 excerpts posted under Gray Hayles.

Ahhhh I feel much better now that it’s out in the open. 😉

Peace and Love and Writing

Lindsay 🙂

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A little something I have been working on. I seem to just get these flashes of moments in the story and all I can do is let the words flow and see what happens (its a little like being possessed, in a good creative way!). This excerpt is one of those flashes, I have no idea where this story is coming from but when I’m writing it I get extremely emotional. It feels so personal so it has been hard for me to share but I feel like I need to share it 🙂 Hope you enjoy!

I reached her door, panting, drained, I rested my forehead on the cold metal. I took a deep breath in, trying to compose myself, sucking in the tears that were trying to escape, stinging my eyes in the process. I couldn’t walk in there a complete mess, I had done that to her one too many times. I couldn’t expect her to keep picking me up and putting me back together. It wasn’t worth it for her to fix me if all I did was break again and again. How did I get this fragile? A few months ago I was able to shove all these feelings inside, burying them deep down, stacking other emotions on top of them, compacting them into my dark place. Recently the bad feelings had become stronger seeping out at the most unexpected moments, collapsing me to the ground. I took another breath and held it in, I put what little energy I had left into opening the door.

There she sat in front of her easel. One paint brush in her hand another behind her ear, music played as she gently swayed her body to the rhythm. She had on a white tank top that was tied in a knot at the center of her back and the jean shorts she wore the first time we met. Her hand twirled gracefully across the canvas, watching her paint was like watching someone dance, so smooth and rhythmic. Beautiful. I lifted my camera to my eyes partially to hide the water filling in them and partly because images like this were impossible not to make permanent. She didn’t hear me come in but she heard the click of my camera. She turned her head toward me and smiled.

“Hey Beautiful, How was your day?” Click, I snapped again.

“Tiring,” I said as I turned and walked away from her, toward the bed, I spread myself out on the mattress. It felt good to lay down but I could no longer hold in the tears, gravity did its job and pulled gentle streams from my eyes. I wiped them away and stretched my arms above my head, rubbing my moist fingers into the blankets. Breathing slowly I tried to push the feelings away. It didn’t work, it was like I had a blanket of sadness suffocating me. I closed my eyes wanting nothing but to drift off to sleep.

I heard Gray put down her brush, she lowered the music and began to walk over to me. I didn’t want to look at her, I couldn’t look at her, not if I wanted to keep myself together. For some reason whenever I looked into her stark eyes I wanted to pour my heart out; Tell her everything that was on my mind, but I knew that would be too much for her. It wasn’t right for me to put my burdens on her, you don’t do that to the ones you love.

Gray sat on the bed, I felt her legs touch my arms. She was so warm, I could instantly feel her transferring heat to my cold skin. I kept my eyes closed as tears fell down my temples. I could feel her lean forward placing her hands on my stomach, slowly she dragged her fingertips across my torso, over my breasts, a shiver shot up my spine, I shifted my weight to let the tingling pass through. I opened my eyes, only to gaze into the most stunning grey marbles above me.

“Hey,” she whispered.

I smiled as tears continued to fall, she leaned forward and kissed the trail of salt water down the side of my face. She sat up again a moved her fingers over my chest and down my arms leaving trails of goosebumps. She stopped when her hands reached mine, she began to stroke patterns into my palm, after a few minutes I gasped her fingers. She squeezed mine back, in an attempt I’m sure to release some of my tension. I didn’t want her to take my burden and that’s all she wanted me to give her. Gray released my hands and I immediately missed them. I felt her hair fall on my fingers as my palms gained the weight of her head. Her hot breath flowed over my wrist, as she gave me a gentle kiss, burning my skin with heat.

We laid there in silence for a long time, she must have known I didn’t want to talk. Sometimes I felt like Gray knew me better than I knew myself, she had the ability to bring me up even when I felt I could go no where but further down. Eventually our breathing became heavier and just before we drifted off together I spoke softly, “Will you come with me to see my Dad?”  I felt her take a breath in a release a soft moan that I knew was meant as a yes, then we were both lost in sleep.

When I awoke I was wrapped in Gray, we had fallen asleep barely touching but now our bodies were intertwined. Her legs crossed mine, our are arms rested on top of each other, our hands were laced tightly. The moonlight glared through the window lighting our bodies in the darkness. My head was tucked under her chin, I could her the slow beat of her heart, she was calm. My eyes no longer cried, the blanket of sadness had been washed away and Gray was preventing another one from forming.  She was my armor protecting me from hurt and I wished so desperately that I could be the same for her.

I like to think of myself as a good friend. I am fiercely loyal and extremely protective of the ones closest to me. Friends (for me) are just as important as family, in fact they are my family. However, I am not the person who has millions of friends, I am a firm believer that it is not the amount of friends you have but the quality of friends you have. I haven’t always felt this way though. There was a time when I was younger (much younger) when I was “friends” with many people and not people that seemed to be overly caring towards me. This all changed when my best friend at the time told me she could no longer be friends with me if I was going to hang out with people that treated me poorly. This changed my whole perspective, she was right, what was the point in being around ten people who made me feel inferior when I could spend time with one person who I could really be myself with and not feel like I had to live up to any expectations. I will forever be grateful to her for opening my eyes to this concept. I am glad to say she is still one of me best friends to this day and even though we don’t see each other as often as I would like, when we do get together its just like it was when we were twelve. This for me, is the true test of friendship, when you can go months without seeing each other but when you do get together its like you have seen each other everyday.

I am lucky to have to two other girls in my life who I gladly bestow the Best friend title on, my sister being one of them. I know some people say your family can’t be your friends but I don’t believe this. The definition of friend for me is someone who is honest with you, trustworthy and supportive of you and always has your best interest at heart, and my sister fits all of this criteria. I have to admit we haven’t always been close considering the five year age difference (I was the annoyingly mean little sister) but as I’ve grown up I have matured and I look up to her in so many ways. She can tell it to me straight and doesn’t hold back when I’m being difficult (one of the few people who can do this). Recently she gave birth to twins and I was worried about her changing and being different now that she has two people to worry and think about all the time. The truth is she has changed she went from being a normal person to being a super hero. That’s right people I’m friends (and related to) with  a super hero. I am so lucky to have her in my life! Love ya!

Last and certainly not least is my Bestie! I met her many years ago (our moms worked together) but we didn’t become friends until we moved in together when we were taking our first year of University. She is probably the most important person I have met since I moved out and became a grown up :). It’s a great thing when you can have someone with you when your transitioning from adolescence to adulthood especially when they are going through the same transition. We have spent so many nights and days talking about anything and everything. She is another one of those people who can call me out when I’m acting a fool (and she does lol). She is honest and trustworthy and loyal and strong, all the things a friend should be. I haven’t had many hard times but when I have she has always been there, supporting me through. We finish each others sentences, we can communicate just by a look and can laugh at each other (and do all the time!). I feel so blessed to have a friend like her especially when I know of many people who have no one they can talk to and be open with. I wish that everyone could have a friend like her, but I’m not willing to share lol 😉

If you are reading this blog entry because you have friends or because you don’t just know that you need to have people around you that care about you as much as you care about them. Don’t ever feel like you have to change who you are or what you think to keep or gain friends. Those people are not friends, true friends don’t care about that kind of stuff they care about you 🙂 In the words of Kelly Clarkson I’ve picked all my weeds but kept the flowers”  and I have the best flowers!

On a side note I apologize for the lack of blogs :/ I’ve really been slagging on my writing but I’m back in action now and will make up for it in the coming days 🙂

Peace and Love and Flowers

Lindsay

I Don’t Know Where This Came From but I Like it!.