Picasso, like the artist

I was exploring the arts and crafts section of the store, when I saw it. Sitting there, alone among papers and pencils, as if someone was going to take it but traded it out for a 16 pack of crayons. She was plastic, and looked a little worn. It was something that plugged into the wall directly, and attached, was a figure that was made to look like a beautiful angel. She held a torch, and that was where the light came from. There was an outlet near, I tested it out and the glow she emitted was so entrancing I could get lost in the shine for hours. I was taken out of the hypnotic state by my dad, who had been looking for me. He grabbed me roughly by the collar with his nicotine stained fingers and hurried me to the checkout counter, but not before I quickly snatched it from the wall outlet. I knew my dad wouldn’t allow me to take it so I hid her in my jacket pocket. I knew once we got home it wouldn’t be an issue since he hardly comes in my room anyways. We came back to a piercingly sile...

I’ve always been proud of my woodworking. Ever since I made that cute little jewelry box my sophomore year of high school. Even possessive of it. I wouldn’t like other kids poking or prodding at it. I don’t think I ever outgrew any of that unfortunately. Sure, when I make things for others it’s fine but I just feel different about something I build to put in my home. Over the years, though, stuff inevitably comes apart, which is understandable since I made a lot of things when I was a lot younger and less experienced, but I just didn’t have the heart to get rid of it. One day, a chair I had worked on for days during my freshman year of college had a leg that fell off. It honestly shook me up a little. I didn’t think much of it, just that I was evidently way too attached to a piece of furniture. I never thought much about my past, mainly because I don’t remember much. However, when the top shelf of the shelving unit I made my senior year of high school fell I had a really strange experi...

“He looks so much like you!” Or some variety, was something I’ve always heard. I first remember the comparison to my grandfather when I was very young but evidently it went back as far as when I was an infant according to my grandma. I was about 11. New Year’s Eve. The attendees were my parents, my grandparents, and aunts and uncles I hadn’t seen since I was “this big”. A lot of alcohol. I don’t remember fearing anything more than the big, gaudy bottle of liquor that always found its way to family gatherings. I’d always get an uneasy feeling, with my grandfather as well as any other adult in my life when they had too much to drink, like it was someone who was so unfamiliar and untrustworthy to me. The smell of their breath disgusted me, the way they talked was like it’s own language that I didn’t speak, and they moved as if performing a poorly choreographed ballet. I’d seek out my grandma for comfort, since she was, much to her dismay, the designated sober. Then the family scrapbook wo...

For Billy Joel Hey Marty, How’s your first month of college on the west coast? I always knew you were meant for bigger things than this town could provide. We just couldn’t keep ya down huh? I’m just teasing, brother, Joanna and I miss the heck out of you. I know how Pa felt about you leaving, especially so far away, but if he were still here I just know he’d see the brilliant person I do. My job at the steel factory is going ok, though I’m a little shaken up. It wasn’t long after you left that two others not too far from here had a big wave of layoffs, not mine though, we’re being assured we’re safe, and they’re even thinking about expanding, so maybe the others who lost their job could get new ones, so there’s a little bright side. Hey, don’t forget our birthday is in a couple weeks and I’m expecting a gift with all that computer science grant money you got, HA! Well, I’ll keep it short, I know a big shot like you don’t have a lot of time for your small minded brother in his small mi...

I was excited for my interview at Lance’s Electronics, it was for a temporary position in their office, just for over the Summer. It had been set up by my school counselor a week before school ended and I really wanted to commit myself to it and see it through. I arrived at the building, with my small, but, very professionally formatted, portfolio in hand. I got to the waiting room where all the other prospective copy machine operators and coffee fetchers were, and quickly realized I was way overdressed. While getting looks from the polo shirts and unbuttoned collars, I tried to hide my embarrassment and quickly went to find somewhere to sit. I looked around and saw two girls waving at me. Thankfully it wasn’t in the way that two popular girls would condescendingly “befriend” the shy kid at lunch. No, I knew them. Sitting on the outermost chair, Caroline, and sitting in the middle seat, Petra. Both were friends I had met in Robotics club my sophomore year. Caroline often walked the lin...

I saw her walk by and her red hair glistening in the sunlight reminded me of sweet cherries on a warm summer evening. I say "glistening in the sunlight," but it's more like "her hair reflected the sparse, almost dim, fluorescent lighting of the school library." She sat down, of course not noticing me at the other end of the table. Perhaps she didn’t see me because it's been too long since she got a haircut, and her bangs are overgrown and cover her eyes. Yeah that sounds right. She took out pencils, pens, markers, highlighters, I almost expected her to pull out a full size easel, but then I realized it wouldn't fit in her small grey leather backpack. Instead of an easel, she pulled out a simple, plain, ordinary, spiral notebook. I was almost disappointed. She opened it and scribbled down what I assumed to be some notes for a class that's so advanced for me I wouldn't even think they offered it at this school. She wrote intricate paragraphs, put b...

I saw my reflection in the mirror When I tried to look behind it I got in my way I noticed a strand of hair, slightly out of place I noticed the pimple that formed on my face I tried again, I thought I had heard something- But I was enraptured, instead, By my teeth’s subtle amber shade  And my facial hair, overdue for a shave I had known something was wrong, Next thing I knew I was lying on the floor And as I drew my last breath, I was happy I couldn’t see my flaws anymore  - Julie Picasso This poem is the first I've ever really tried to do. It's not very nuanced but I think it's neat. I'm experimenting with different forms of writing at the moment. Thanks for following my blog. Stay tuned.