Jesterly Challenge Month – November 12th

Jaded asked me to scribe my life as the prehistoric ones did in caves, and in 2000 years, and from the Little Prince’s point of view as well (both prehistoric and future).  I took a little bit of liberty with the prompt, but hopefully you’ll agree that I stayed within the spirit of the challenge.  Anyway, give it a read and let me know how you think I did.


If you could close your eyes to all but these words again and picture the wall of my condo, painted a cool cucumber, where I’m furiously etching, scraping and drawing.  Stick figures.  Stick figures everywhere.  I really should have plotted out where each image was going before I started, but, alas, I did not, so floor to ceiling is covered in chaotically spaced markings, jumbled at various angles, and running in sequences that only make sense in context of whichever experience I was trying to convey at the time.

All the key highlights are there, though: the marriage on the mountaintop, the birth of the Little Prince, summiting Mount Whitney twice, camping in Kings Canyon, the trip to Europe… And, let me just say, that drawing Notre Dame was a pain in the anyway, yes, all the highlights you’d expect are there.  Take a stroll through the archives in the kingdom and you can get an idea for the sketchings I’ve carved into the wall.

An interesting pattern, however, does emerge, when you step back from the room and view it as a whole rather than one image at a time.  I’ve caught a lot of fish.  A lot.  For every other memory now immortalized as wall art, there is stick figure me catching a fish.  That’s a lot of fish.  Also, I think we can all be grateful that I didn’t bother commemorating every meal I’ve ever had or every bowel movement, because those things would have taken up rooms of walls on their own.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, and equally interesting, are the things that meant so much to me at the time, and still do, that get swallowed by the enormity of chaos around them.  The handful of times I was paid to DJ parties and clubs while living in San Diego are lost in the fray.  I had to really hunt to find the one book I’ve published, and if I hadn’t sort of remembered where I drew it to begin with, I’m not sure I’d have ever found it.  Just the one book.  That needs to change, but even then, as much as writing means to me right now, these little blips will never amount to much in comparison to all the other events drawn out.  I’m not sure if that’s sad or not, or if it’s just poetically beautiful that when the events of my life are drawn out this way everything holds the same weight.

The one book I’ve published takes up the same amount of wall as one of the times I’ve climbed Mount Whitney as one of the fish I’ve caught as one of the jobs I’ve held as one trip to the beach…  And, isn’t that wonderful?

Okay, you can open your eyes to everything again.  I’m not sure if you could really see the wall paintings of my life so far.  I sort of took us on a philosophical tangent, and hopefully you are okay with that.


2,000 years from now, you’ll be able to upload my collective experiences into your brain and feel my thoughts and emotions as you scroll through them, as if it were you who had lived them.  I can’t decide at the moment if that’s truly terrifying or amazingly wonderful.  Perhaps that’s not quite right.  It isn’t that I can’t decide, it’s that I don’t want to.


The Little Prince’s interpretation of his life so far is the same for both the prehistoric and futuristic versions, and he has informed me that the only way to experience his vision is through a hands-on application of the following instructions:

1)      Find a surface that you don’t mind destroying getting dirty.
2)      Procure the artistic implements of your choice.  He suggests scissors, glue, and watercolor paints.
3)      Make sure no one is watching.
4)      Set aside your artistic implements.
5)      Pull the Sharpie that was hidden in your back pocket.
6)      Draw spiraling circles on your designated surface in at first expanding radii and then shrinking.
7)      Then stab repeatedly at the surface until the tip of the sharpie squishes inside the body of the pen.
8)      Say, “Whoops” just loud enough for someone to hear.
9)      Giggle.
10)    Run away.

Come on, WordPress… we got 20,000 comments on one post without going viral or being negative… give us some love!!!

Art’s post reached 20,000 comments. If you haven’t popped in and at least said hello, you should do that now!

Pouring My Art Out

People! Join the revolution! Put your name in the history books.


Let’s send a message to WordPress. We are the ones who make this work. Without us, WordPress is a bunch of empty white boxes.

We tried to set the record for the most comments on one post. WordPress claims they don’t know what the record is. But we found posts that went viral and got millions of views and they have way less comments than our crazy post does. And we didn’t do it by writing something obnoxious. We did it with love and fun.

And you can still be a part of it!

Here is the link to the post:

You can still come and add a comment. Just say hi. Or meet some great people and join in our funny games. We write poetry, people have tried seducing themselves to see who could…

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Perched on his horse, Uther frowned as his bachelor dropped the King’s lance in the mud.  Eyebrows raised, he turned towards his advisor.  The man, his features hidden beneath a cowl, simply nodded.  The weight of the future was held within that nod.  The assistant had a destiny that was greater than any other knight at the tournament.

Shaking his head and scoffing, Uther returned his attention to the young knight, reached down and grasped the offered jousting barb.  “Merlin has faith in you, boy.  But I have yet to see why that is.”

Arthur didn’t know why either.


Word Count: 99

This is my entry for this week’s Trifecta Writing Challenge:

“This week we are giving you a page from the Oxford English Dictionary.  The
ninety-ninth page, to be exact.  (Click to enlarge.)  From this page, you can
choose any word, any definition, to use in your post.  (Please type your chosen
word in bold, so we know.)  And instead of our typical 33-333 word limit, we are
asking for 99 words exactly.”

I chose the word “bachelor” and went with the third defintion: “a young knight serving under another’s banner.”

the way it really happened

Mark scanned the text book and frowned.  Their assignment was to read the chapter on World War III and then answer five questions the teacher had printed on the whiteboard, and he would have happily answered the questions she posed but the answers he knew to be the truth didn’t match up with what he was reading.  He raised his hand and waited for Mrs. Norris to call on him.

“Yes, Mark, do you have a question?”  She was engrossed in something on her desk at the front of the class, her eyes barely clearing the tops of her glasses as she gazed across the room at him.

“I’m confused.”

It was Mrs. Norris’ turn to frown.  She shuffled her paper into a neat pile and stood, running her hands down her skirt to smooth it out before sauntering down the aisle to stand next to Mark.  I quick, stern, glance around the room made sure all the other students kept their heads down and focused on their own work.  “What’s the problem?”

“The book is wrong.  This isn’t how it happened.”

“Mark,” her tone was disapproving, “you’ll have to learn what’s in this book if you want to make anything of yourself in this world.”


“No.  It doesn’t matter what actually happened, or what you remember, or what your father and mother told you about it.  What’s in this book is the new history.  It’s the only one that matters anymore.  The quicker you get with the program the further you’ll go.  Okay?”

Mark was downcast.  It wasn’t just stories his parents had told him, he had been on the front lines of the war when it started.  He knew who had started it and why.  But, he was also a smart child and knew that their new rulers wouldn’t take kindly to anyone questioning the official doctrines they put out, so he would play along at school and keep the truth hidden in his heart.  “Okay.”

One day, when he was older, he would take the truth from its hiding place and use it as a weapon.  He would avenge his parents.  He would set things right.


Word Count: 360

I have so much fun with these Inspiration Monday writing prompts it’s ridiculous:


The Rules

There are none. Read the prompts, get inspired, write something. No word count minimum or maximum. You don’t have to include the exact prompt in your piece, and you can interpret the prompt(s) any way you like.


No really; I need rules!

Okay; write 200-500 words on the prompt of your choice. You may either use the prompt as the title of your piece or work it into the body of your piece. You must complete it before 6 pm CST on the Monday following this post.

The Prompts:



Fireworks in the sky glaring, the music blaring, the dogs grilling, cigars for smoking, and the beers freely flowing are nice.  But it’s the flag waving that truly means we are still free.


This 33 word patriotic piece was written in response to today’s Trifextra “free-write.”

You see what I did there?  A free-write about being free.  Nice.