Thanks again for your submissions! If I missed or mischaracterized yours, please accept my apologies and let me know, and I’ll correct the error.
I will post the weekend’s galleries tomorrow.
Again, a reminder that most of the excerpts and even the images do not represent the entire piece in their original context. Please follow the links to get the best experience.
Sarah, improv music piece
kuri, two comic haiku:
With pentacles, I
Dance. With pentacles — what the
Hell are pentacles?
Elaine, poem, “The Multitasker”:
Chores must be done
Challenges ruin a plan
Crises hit the fan
(with accompanying shit)
Galen, photo illustration:
Danielle, poem, “Love Poem No. 7”:
I leave my sleeping lover and return home.
I brew a pot of coffee, feed the dog, make my bed.
My hands and nose and mouth feel and smell and taste other things.
I breathe in and out.
Erin G., personal reflection:
Oh, if only I had the TIME to spare — I would have performed this on camera and posted it here. Shucks.
Rumour is one of my favorite characters to perform.
Sandra, photo collage:
DavidK, fiction excerpt:
The warrior brought both of his fists up high over his head, even as the Dustman had done, and brought them down in one solid blow on the Dustman’s skull. Magic leaked and sparked and vented; the skull caved in. Such a blow would’ve been mortal to any living creature, but that the Dustman was not. The remaining arm leapt at the warrior’s throat
Kevin, twitter poem:
Two of Pentacles I see ur 2 and raise you 3: Stilton which I abhor; layered dragon flies holding my heart; & the jaberwocky’s head.
Christie, performance art:
In the spirit of the card–finding balance, having fun, and adapting quickly–I’m going to go on a road trip, commencing in about two hours. We’ll call it ‘performance art.’
Patrick, digital photo:
Sean, flash fiction, “On a Roll”:
Back in the car. Back on the road. Turned on the radio, and rolled down the window. “Hey, hey, I saved the world today-ee-ay,” she belted, then laughed when she realized the radio was playing a talk show and not the Eurythmics at all. Some boring guy was shouting at another boring guy, so she switched off the radio and kept singing. “Everybody’s happy now, the bad thing’s gone away…”
She dances a slow motion pirouette, spin leg out step spin, so that she makes a circuit of the fountain, each movement careful, never wavering, each splashdown slight. And she’s got, what, ten plates in the air? They spin merrily, capturing the fountain’s lights and sending them helter skelter in whirlwinds of color. My breathing slows as I watch, down from the crazed, staccato gasps of just a while ago.
John, digital photo: