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Words From Paint

A painting created by myself through a long process of random paint areas that spawned drawing and painted themed areas--it was a long, fun process to say the least. WFP differs yet, oddly, connects between the painting & writing processes.
by

Kelsie Sandage

on 28 April 2014

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Transcript of Words From Paint

by Kelsie Sandage Words From Paint Balloon Ride
1. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
Wind whistles through her hair. Her knuckles turn white on the edge. Pleasant valley cottages are now
colorful fruitlets clustered in the bowl of green.
“Totally,” he says with a final tug on the gas-powered torch. The bull’s eye balloon
ascends through a cloud,
filtering the expanding world.
She stands in the middle to avoid looking directly down.
Outward and beyond is extravagant enough. “Beautiful,” she murmurs. Caught in the moment,
she leans forward and accidentally
looks
down.
Her stomach free falls as she focuses on something much closer to her. ... 2. But then her stomach proceeds to do back-flips.
He is kneeling, holding a ring, proclaiming things, all
while maintaining a smile. She
steadies herself before she bellows, "Yes!"
Her fist grips the ring. They wrap around each other and stare out
at the sunset, the symbol for their future, while literally
riding a mile high wave of euphoria.
“You had to choose this balloon.” On the outside of the balloon, the words “Just Kidding” circled their heads. He shrugs. “A joke surprise for a serious surprise.” Pop goes the cork to the first bottle of champagne, then the second. As they sink into the basket, they sink into the bottle of brandy they had snuck with them.



“Hey. Hey! Humans!You’re going to hit the smoke stacks!”
Her head pokes up to look around for the source of the noise. ... 3. A green alien, costumed in its best Raoul Duke attire [complete with stoned out eyes and cheap, twitching cigarette holder], dangles from a vine of extraterrestrial flowers. It disappears into the sky before she can get a better look.
“What was that?”
“Nothing Cherie, come back down here.”
Dominating the view is the solid, steel side of one of the smoking pipes connected to the factory nestled in the valley they currently hover over.
“Rick! Do something! Quick!”
He sits up with a grin. Slowly his mind processes what she said and what his eyes confirm.
Next he rattles the carriage, exposes his Flash boxers, and pulls the cords that make them
rise just in time. Narrowly, they miss their demise.
They return to their misty gaze over the world
while wondering,
“What just happened?”

... 4. Up above, in the outer bands
of the
atmosphere,
their
alien savior returns to the
viewing deck.
“Did I miss anything?”
“No, they’re having sex again. You know
you weren’t
supposed to save them.”
“Yeah, but they’re better
than what’s on television.”



http://kels66.wordpress.com/2013/03/10/words-from-paint-balloon-ride/ 1. We torture ourselves with the boundaries of time. Hours & seconds of years run together to form
decades
measured in memories and rentable clichés. Empty cups and stacks of paper.
Vivid ideology versus subtle meaning. Author as trapeze artist
balancing
Originality and Influence over the snapping,salivating jaws of
the Media.
Was it the
Red Queen
who replaced the white rabbit’s carrot with a pocketwatch to
make him ever
anxious of the time?
Or did he find it hopping through the woods
and thought it made him ever so sophisticated?
Sophisticated like a man luxuriously writing scroll
after scroll of essays
for the mere pleasure of the calligraphy. Comparable to a
flower,the man’s continuous thoughts are baby’s breath,
there to fill in when content isn’t the main concern.
True writing spawns from cultivating the prim rose prose
that springs forth in the cracks of daily life’s time-table. Coffee & Spilled Paper http://kels66.wordpress.com/2013/03/10/words-from-paint-coffee-spilled-paper/ Twister Ring 1. A simple picnic. A moment in their lives.
Susie hugging her bear. Tim and Todd tugging her pig tails.
All three
incarcerated in big sister Flora’s bored gaze.
She lies on her side in the soft grass and watches
lithe clouds pass by, ever transforming.
Flora swears one cloud has the neck of
a giraffe and
head of a baby
elephant. Her imagination conjures up green spots,
and a tuft of black hair with a matching hat to its skin.
In her mind, the elephant opens a set of eyes, And they
are the same shade of blue as Jack’s. ... 2. She drifts on his image, but then shakes her head. He said he’d call, she thinks.
Phew! It’s still cooler out here than in that house.
Flora usually calls it their mutated barn.
The mocking silence of the kitchen phone,
and the kids on full-boil energy had driven her out of the coop and into the valley next
to one her family's home resides in. There are some trees for shade—while being just
out of ring distance—but still within Mama’s scream—
Blink back to the present, and then she’s up with the swing. “Susanne!”
A flurry of blue cotton down the hill,
and she separates the mixture of children, dirt,
and squeals of who started it.
“I don’t care. You are siblings.
You have to be nice to each other.”

What a load, she thinks.
Hauling the basket, and Susie’s hand, she decides on the story for nap time. On the crest of the hill, the kids clump closer together. She realizes it’s unnaturally quiet. Not a single bird chirping, or cruising, on this hot, almost-summer day. She hears an echo of a whistle. Flora freezes when the sound increases. Deafening, the children clutch to her skirt at the horror unrolling in front of them. ... 3. A colossal, swirling tower of wind, energy, debris, and natural rage rips through their father’s barn and mother’s garden, blasting Earth and everything connected to it into shreds. She drops to the ground. Huddles the shaking kids close; their young eyes can comprehend complete destruction when it is right in front of them.
Glancing back at the scene she had watched for hours through a daydream filter,
the giraffe-elephant-Jack is little more than a loosely knitted gossamer veil.
The sky has turned peculiar colors; perhaps the green spotted cloud hadn’t been all her imagination. Forcing herself to face the situation— only to be shocked again—
it is zigging their way. Then the twister changes its mind and charges the house directly—T-minus 30 seconds until the whole things gone. Alas, before the Monster goes through the front door, it slopes to the left and just takes off the remodeled den.
The cyclones energy starts disappearing
From the bottom
up
until everything held high has dropped.

In a surge of adrenaline, Flora grabs Susie and Tim—Todd
runs along her side, even running ahead and
throwing open the storm cellar doors for
her.
... 4. In any other moment, she’d praise his chivalry for wanting her to go before him, but not while her blood is curdling from anxiety.
A stomp of her foot, and he
descends.
Tim and Susie follow suit.
Slam of the doors and chains locked tight.
Feeling relatively safe again in a familiar place, she
imagines a ring, Jack picking up, & her heart singing—because she can’t wait to tell him her story. http://kels66.wordpress.com/2013/03/10/words-from-paint-twister-ring/ A Rectangle to Aid the Abstract The Eye 1. He didn’t know what kept attracting him to the
cave.
The first time it was a refuge from the rain
when he sprained his ankle hiking.
The second time had been a romantic weekend
for two.
The third time he was alone, until he lost himself in the stars. That was the time he
carved the lion with the
flowing mane into the
stone of the entrance. ... 2.
He felt the place needed a change
from
him in way of adornment.
On his fourth visit, he found a crack
in the back wall boulder. He picked at it
until the entire stone crumbled
into a pile of sand.
Stepping through the portal,
he encountered a
golden chamber.
Curiosity & awe
led him through.
Strange & familiar symbols
were etched into
the luminous walls.
The limestone floor was
carpeted with moss
soft under his feet.
Jade stalactites hung
over his head, but he continued
to the exit that grew with every step,
until finally he stood outside the cave
in a
scene of natural splendor. ... 3. A waterfall rushed down next to the opening, but his eyes were focused on the eye in the sky. The eye had replaced the sun in the sky, but put off just as much light.
Unlike the normal sun he was used to, he could stare continuously at it without hurting his eyes.
He thought it strange, but he felt better when he stared at the eye.

He tested his theory by trying to look away, but
he couldn’t. He sat where he came out of
the cave. As it got later in the day, the
Eye’s light dimmed, but it stayed the same visible gold,
purple, and green.

A fire started in front of him, and fish flopped in his lap.He did not move from his gaze of the Eye. A cup sat next to his hand to drink from the river, but he never picked it up.
He had never felt better. He knew if he kept watch of the Eye he could explore any thought, any topic, any memory he might have. Only thing was, whenever he started to think they all turned into thoughts about the Eye. He just sat there, and stared at the Eye.
Perhaps he is still there.
But he for sure didn’t see the strange wave of color flying through the sky that

turned back around when it smelled him. A portion broke from the group and curled and
wriggled in glee and hunger.
Maybe the Eye came through for him when he gave in. http://kels66.wordpress.com/2013/03/10/words-from-paint-the-eye/ Connection 1.
When one love finds the other—
Like an elephant curling up with its
mate. A yin hugging its yang.
Perhaps not so flip-flop
on opinions.
Although there will always
be ample
debate hats through
the years.
But maybe a fancy top hat soon for a
celebration or just a
moonlit walk that could
turn into watching the sun
burst over the ocean.
Music streams from you
and makes me constantly dancing.
Wine, cheese,
and
bread: Now just add Monte Cristo.
But no matter, a slow dance
is an even better
addition. .... 2. Two hearts beating against each other in slow motion. http://kels66.wordpress.com/2013/03/10/words-from-paint-connection/ 1.
Water
flows over fire,
but it won't
put out
the seething. They talk awhile
like two
fish swimming
too close together. Like the
cherries
clumping together on the tree.
A dream catcher wrapped in
eternity with a four leaf
clover lost some where in the center.
Here, just let me balance it out a bit. After all,
it’s a long fall from
our golden copper roll. A fade into the distance or perhaps rising above. More annoying than a spot that keeps seeping through.Gotta be careful. Don’t know which route goes where
until somewhat down the way. But all things seem to come back around. Just smile and start with, “Hello.” http://kels66.wordpress.com/2013/03/10/words-from-paint-corner-drea/ Corner Dream http://kels66.wordpress.com/ 1. Cocooned within
the picture. Each individual, yet a part of the same. Linked, but disconnected. A Piece of
a piece of a piece. 9.
Sometimes mistakes make
the picture.
Other times
they fuck up
the whole thing. 15.
This only reminds me I never got to see those irises bloom. But, magically, I don’t care. I could have rows of them now if I wanted to. 18.
I thought I saw an Angel in the scuff of mud from your shoe on the bathroom
wall. Her
wings
swept back, dirty from soil, her hair white, her body cloaked & draped. Will I ever wipe her away? 11.
A character, yes quite
A character.
Running along
On time, or not.
Night shows no
bounds
while you’re in
flight Tonight,
quick,
before the sun, we
Fright. 5.Words and meaning. The way it's said, pronunciation is key. So is spelling, & grammar. But all of that is worthless without some meat/fruit/ juice, whatever, take your pick, to keep the
reader going. 13. A cat scratching on a post. A hand nudged across a table. A way to bridge how one painting was randomly started & became immense. 8.
A sly fox
donned
a purple hat, met a pig, and jumped continents, only to zip & kick back into a quaint boxcar. 4. Viewing overhead the mess to come is a curse & a blessing
depending on your interpretation. 12.Wave & foam
writhe to no end
& so does the ink,
but in such
more restricting,
yet
freeing
ways.
Both eternal
& necessary. 2. The face appeared before them
easy to see: eye socket,
strong
jaw,
and the extended nose, which led to the lack of mouth. Rather curious, as it was still
speaking. 10. “Love becomes you, Dear, even your eyes are smiling. Now aren't you sweet, you're blushing. Isn’t love Surreal?” 7. Creating complicated,
dramatic,
compelling lives for people
you encounter
on the bus,
only to blink it all away
upon exiting @
your stop. 16. Elvis lived &
died for Rock-N-Roll.
Even tho he died clutching a toilet roll. 6. The light shines down through a neon
sheen.
Goosebumps
rise on the thighs,
a steady hand, & controlled smile meet yours.

The Moon greets the Sun. 3. Countering.
Facing.
Vased in.
Hourglass.
Lost in its
own
curves.
A
candle
with
an irregular mold. 19. “La vie Boheme,” we sang through
the streets.

“La vie Boheme,” I scream, alone.

“La vie Boheme,” I hum while writing at
my computer. 20.
The siniy [синий/blue] sky shifts to goluboy [голубой/light blue] & lazorevyy [лазоревый/azure] then sapfirovyy [сапфировый/sapphirine],
ul’tramarin
[ультрамарин/ultramarine], & nebesno-goluboy [небесно-голубой/celestial-blue] before vasil’kovyy [васильковый/cornflower] reclaims the dawn. 17.I form sentences to
say to
those people
with
zipper lips
but then
I


delete my
text in fear of getting stuck in
their teeth. 14.
Looping words
&
sloping meaning
rush
to fill the
shore of
understanding.
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