I can't imagine sitting there with both hands up every time the teacher had something to say. Though I guess that's a smaller percentage of the time in art class than other classes.
Here spring comes and goes for a time before driving winter back to it's hide-a-way. Right now we have snow; started yesterday morning and will end sometime this evening.
For my olfactory memories, it's lilacs blooming. I don't know why, but the scent of lilacs releases semi-forgotten memories, reassures me spring is really here, and if I let myself, I can become lost in the soft, sweet, music they trigger within.
I agree, I don't like pranks and I find it very confusing reading stories online or seeing things on Instagram and having to work out whether they are fake or not - it is hard enough at the best of times to work out what is genuine and what isn't!!
I didn't know that about the start of the year changing from April to January though - if that is true and not a joke!!
@ An apple a day.... - that's crazy! the only time I am bored is when I am at work . There is so much to do the rest of the time, in fact there are not enough non-working hours in the day....
I'm always enthused, excited and inspired with painting. I have a relative who is always complaining that she is bored with nothing to do. I have never been in that situation and try to inspire her to draw or read or craft, etc., but she just is not interested. I wish I could think of some way to help her.
The blogger discussed the importance of learning. Why do we learn? Except for increasing our knowledge, these also help to increase our efficiency, which helps us to make our lives better.These lessons always make us more experienced if they are learnt from our daily lives, not from the theoretical only.
Prompt:
On this day in 1962 Monster Mash by Bobby Boris Pickett. I've included the song to inspire your monster entry today. Write either a story or a poem about monsters, any kind you want after seeing Pickett's facial expressions you should have lots of inspiration.
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My Monsters
Suddenly, when hours creep
I'm too scared and cannot weep
for his face twists in ways unknown
and his voice takes on a husky tone
I look in the mirror to see, no, it isn't him
with smiles cracked, carved with grim
but also me who grins from ear to ear
with lips curled, to hide my fear
Also, is a face with chin pulled tight
the nose a swirl of crooked fright
he puffs his cheeks, eyebrows too thin
some face he has, stretched like sin
My monsters growl, sigh, and snare
I try to look away, in despair
yet, they are not evil, but odd and free
my monsters are a part of me
When I look away, they disappear
but within my shadow, they're so near
like grief, lost hopes, bent and skewed
they keep after me, to me they are glued.
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