Prompt: Modern Day Picasso

Hat tip to Jay Z for "Picasso Baby"

Crazy old Spaniard, tips with sketches?

Oh no, darling. I am an artist. An artiste. Okay, I may have left a doodle or two behind, but never without the flash of gold beside. My signature on a credit slip, I mean. I always carry a gold ink pen.

Really, Picasso is perhaps not the best analogy. Think Monet. You don’t know him? Oh, dear. They don’t teach the classics of art, anymore, do they? Water gardens? Givenchy? Really not ringing a bell?

Here, just a minute, let me pull this up. Okay you have a seat there, and I’ll sketch while you educate yourself. Tilt your head—like this. Nose up. Hmm…to the left. That’s it. Bellissimo, darling! You can read the tablet—just keep your arms below your shoulders. No, don’t move your head! Back as I had it. Thank you!

Yes, I always admired Monet. He was an eccentric, but brilliant. And he painted enormous canvasses to fit inside spaces created just for his works. Like we’re doing here on the station.

Oh yes, I enjoy the travel, no doubt. No, I don’t try to paint the stars—although I have seen comets and Saturn’s rings ablaze. I’ve painted storms on Jupiter and Neptune. Yes, I painted the dust murals on Mars. Oh yes, that was quite an adventure. No, they won’t let anyone go out anymore, not after the Hilden tragedy. Yes, I created that memorial, too. I haven’t been back to Mars since. Hmm? No, no my dear lady, I don’t think I will.

Yes, rest the tablet in your lap, but please keep your head where it is a little longer. I know I did, but the photos don’t capture everything the eye sees. Patience, my dear, we are almost done…

Dogs in house	Houdini
January word count	5,579

Prompt: Finding freedom

Thanks to Carlos-Quevedo for permission to use his beautiful image, “Up to the Stars”!

There were stories among my people. Stories of great balnyan trapped on a distant planet by a thick layer of air between water and space. Our fathers told it as a horror story, our mothers as a cautionary tale. Never travel alone, never wander too far from home, lest you be trapped and never return.

To most, they were only stories. But the balnyan in my dreams called me to the search, the rescue, and I could not refuse. I knew I’d receive no father’s blessing, no mother’s encouragement. They would call me a fool. Or worse. A dreamer.

The balnyan guided me to study the stars, to find their lost ones. Our kind grows slowly, and the balnyan would not have me leave before I was strong enough for a great journey. I studied and swam the currents of space around our home until one night they came to me. Not in my dreams.

Now we ride among the stars, searching and singing their great song. Will it reach the lost ones before we do? The journey is long, and sometimes I sleep, nestled in the wide wing of a balnyan, feeling the sweep of their powerful tails pushing us ever closer to our goal.

I treasure all we find along the way. Space-faring dikya, deep red, with long, slender tails. They school around us and share their dreams of journeys past. Great flocks of zugunroy who escaped their boundaires of air now soar across the constellations. Tiny glowing planctole swarm around a moon, and the balnyan soar through, mouths open wide.

Sated, they sleep, tails slowly pushing us onward. I rest on a balnyan’s broad back, and in the silence, I hear a familiar, distant song…

Dogs in house	Houdini
Time writing	20 minutes
January word count	1,792

Prompt: Haiku (sort of), or Leaving All I Know Behind

In my 1st novel, the main character's mother dies before the story begins. I'm playing with the idea of sharing some of her (the mother's) loose-form haikus written on their journey from Terra to Mira. Or perhaps simply stanzas of verse, whether presented separately or together. What do you think?

Ice creeps

Over the island

Aloha, pua aloalo

***

Choose

Live love leave

A new heart beats

***

Rockets roar

Engines rumble

Stars stream past

***

Ocean song

Silent now

My heart still sings

***

Empty space

between

We left behind 

Dogs in house	Houdini
December word count	5,803

Prompt: The Thrill of Battle (No Matter What Daddy Says)

Thanks to Mike Amadeuz for permission to use his dynamic image, “17.08.2013”!

Marauda perched between a sensor array and a phase battle cannon. She couldn’t hide her grin, and her eyes glowed yellow with excitement. Phasefire burst in brilliant arcs around the battleship, and she watched the fighters zoom around her, wondering if she could hitch a ride on one of them next time.

She snorted. Daddy would definitely have a thing or two to say about that. Honestly, she was almost 800 years old. It’s not like she sprang out of a star nursery yesterday. But Daddy still insisted on treating her like a newborn. Her broad, curved horns rivaled her eldest brother’s, and she could send killing thoughts to drop a full-grown bromhorst rampaging across the Sballaigh Plains while she was orbiting the fourth moon.

It had taken her almost a century to convince Daddy to let her fly into battle with the fleet, though. Even so, she was to stay with the battleship and come inside if there was any phasefire near her. As if she couldn’t deflect it, she grinned viciously. Her brothers had tormented her with phase fire when they *were* still in the nursery. She knew a lot more battle skills than Daddy gave her credit for.

A fighter exploded on the other side of the battleship, and Marauda almost flew away from the ship to get a closer look. She gripped the cannon with her bare toes and clung to the array with her long fingers until her jump inertia spread away from the ship. With a sigh, she relaxed against the cannon again. She scowled. I could be *helpful*, she thought, if Daddy would have a little faith in me.

The cannon flew up under her, and Marauda followed its path. A fighter was headed straight for them, already firing. Without thinking, she flung her slender arms out to deflect the phasefire. The fighter exploded in a kaleidoscope of color. Marauda launched away from the battleship in a victory dance.

She drifted around the curve of the ship toward the command center. Looking in, she saw Daddy’s stern glare. She looked down at herself, free of the ship, bare armed, bare legged, no weapons but her own self. His baby.

Uh oh.  

Dogs in house	Houdini
Time writing:	20 minutes
October word count:	13,356