Carly's Ramblings Blog - Style

Hope, Laughter, Connections & The Ghostly Music Room

Today's blogs...

Blog City – Day 219

Prompt: Hope Always. Write Anyway. What do you think?

To hope is to live
To live is to feel
To feel is          to breath
To breath is                    to expand
To expand is                              to grow
To grow is                                        to change
To change is                              to experience pain
To experience pain is                    to be vulnerable
To be vulnerable is          to open yourself
To open yourself is to hope.

This is the circle called life.

Welcome To My Reality - Week Forty - Two

1.When was the last time you laughed so much it hurt?

I am a laugher. I love to laugh. I laugh at myself. I look for the humourousness of life and I laugh. The last time I really whooped it up was probably while watching an episode of America's Funniest Home Videos. The animal ones often catch me funny and if my husband is watching with me, he will often ask if I am okay whenever I let out a snort of laughter that threatens to steal my breath away.
I sometimes find, my husband seems to enjoy my laughter more that the actual event that caused the laughter in the first place.

30 Day Blogging Challenge

amy-Finally writing a novel. gave us this lovely quote and I quite like it.
I used to think that the worst thing in life was to end up alone. It's not. The worst thing in life is to end up with people who make you feel alone.
Robin Williams

Both are sad, but yes, I would agree that being with others that make you feel alone is truly the worst. being understood and heard is something all of us want. Connection to others is so much more than physical proximity. You can be lonely in a crowd. Or you can be in the company of like minded souls and feel it is so right - each working on their own writing.... this is what writing with others is like. Meeting at a coffee shop, enjoying some conversation, some food and drink and writing together. Whether you share your writing or just enjoy writing in the presence of others - is a great experience. Conversation swirls around writing topics and like minds connect in ways that our non-writing friends don't get.

Times that I feel really part of something is when I write with other writers in public, when I am with my own family members (my mother, my aunt and my cousins), when I am with my two high school friends and when I am here on WDC. That is not to say I don't experience it at other times, like with other teachers or with my husband.... but I find even in some schools the feel isn't quite there. I have some school's I love going to because I feel included... even though I have never been on their staff. I have returned to school's where I have held long term occasional positions and I feel like an outsider.

Even with my husband... there are times when we are in sync, but there are times when I wonder 'who is this guy'. I think it's good to surround yourself with a circle of friends and family who 'get you'. That way, you're always feeling someone out there cares.

The Haunted House - Day 6 - The Ghostly Music Room

"What do we have here? rose a voice that drew the hairs on my arms up in prickles.

My head jerked up and around but I did not see anyone. Only instruments stood in various poses... and moved. Keys on the piano tinkled, strings on the harp looked plunked then vibrated, as did the stings on the bass cello. A violin floated in the air, its bow swaying back and forth over the stings in a scratchy sound that had me covering my ears at the ratchet. A tambourine rattled and thumped, as did two drum sticks prattle away on a snare drum. Even a trumpet bobbed along in the air, its buttons going up and down emitting a clash of noise that threatened to shatter my eardrums. The noise that engulfed me was not music, but rather a cacophony of competing sounds all loud and troublesome. I clamped my hands over my ears, but that did not seem to help much.

"Who's there?" I asked, as terror tripped up along my spine and rose the hair on my arms and scalp further.

"'Tis another of those human creatures." Another voice whooshed at me.

Another voice rose up over the instruments, seeming to run musical scales with an operatic bent.

"Seems she does not enjoy our playing." Another voice swirled around me and I felt a chill as cold as January ripple over my skin.

"Show yourselves!" I ordered, my voice ringing out.

The room fell silent.

As I watched ghostly forms misted into view by each of the instruments. Miles Davis held the trumpet, Antonio Vivaldi held the violin, Pearl Chertok sat with her fingers on the harp's strings, Liberace sat at the piano, fingers poised over the keys with his rings gleaming. On the piano, his candelabra gleamed in the candle light that flickered over the room's grand walls. Ella Fitzgerald leaned against his Grand Piano. I did not know the other ghostly figures and yet my fears were wrapped and rolled into astonishment that these great musicians had all congregated here.

"Are you really all famous musicians...."

Liberace's laugh cut through the silence. "But of course we are darling." His voice rose, but wavered in the mist of his form.

"Then why is your music not glorious?"

A chorus of "But it is." rose with indignation.

"It is not... you are competing, not playing together, at all." I shouted into the dim.

A ripple of wrath warred around me and my nerves trembled, but I pressed on unable to help myself. "What if you all took turns...." the wrath settled and calmed a moment and I took a deep breath continuing, "what if you all took turns. First playing one persons piece then rotating through each of you?"

"That is what we have been trying to do." The tambourine player moaned.

"But I cannot make out a single song."

A whooping and wailing rose up and the room filled with white vapour that seemed to hover and swirl above me. I took a quick look around for an exit across from me. Then I tried again.

"Quiet, please."

The mist reformed into each member of their ensemble and I blew out a calming breath.

"I know you to be a civilized group. What you need is a system of order...what if you go in alphabetical order, then each take a turn... soon you will forget who began and you will always have wonderful music to play. You may even learn from each other."

A mumbled, whispered whoosh of voices swirled once more, but this time the energy felt lighter, not angry and hateful. After a few moments, they reformed into their own mystic selves and Liberace smiled his gleaming smile at me.

"We have decided on oldest to youngest here." He told me.

I settled myself in and listened as the music rose and together they found their way. The music was mesmerizing and almost lulled me to sleep, but I shook off the pleasantness of finally finding a comfortable room and remembered I needed to find a way out.

I rose, and bowing my gratitude to their wonderful music I made my way to the far exit. I almost did not want to leave, the music pulled at me, but I knew I needed to make my escape or I would be stuck here... forever.

Moving into the next room, I closed the door and the music dissipated like the mist of past musicians.

Next is the Mad Scientist's Lab.