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December 16, 2019, 03:22:05 pm

Author Topic: laura's writing and other creative endeavours  (Read 2762 times)

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laura_

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laura's writing and other creative endeavours
« on: July 06, 2019, 08:17:06 am »
+17
Hey guys!
I love the creative corner of ATARNotes, and seeing so many cool and different things that people have posted have inspired me to start my own thread! I hope that this will help remind me that even during the busiest times of school, I should spend some time away from the books and do something I really enjoy.

I love writing and do a lot of it (mainly short fiction pieces and poems). I also like to bake and cook as well as dabble in watercolour, calligraphy and photography.

laura <3

I thought I would start off with a piece I wrote: GRACIOUS

I am not stupid. Just because I choose not to speak, does not mean I am stupid.
It.
Does.
Not.
I want to scream it from the rooftops, but I doubt that anyone would understand my slurred speech, especially if they were busy or disinterested. Their purposeful hostility would ensure that none of the sounds that escape my lips would convey any meaning. If people with hearing would make the choice and open themselves up to understand deaf communities, deaf culture and deaf language, that they themselves would gain so much. The ideas and expressions of our community are rich and vast and anyone who cuts themselves off from that, out of confusion or fear is being ignorant.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My feet felt heavy. They were dragged along the hostile grey concrete. Every lump on the bumpy footpath was felt through the thin soles of my runners. With my eyes downcast they continue to carry my body along the path speckled with dark green weeds poking through the cracks.

A car alarm startles the gloomy neighbourhood, snapping everyone else out of their tired trance.
Although everyone else on the street stands frozen for a second, Grace doesn’t react to the obnoxious high pitched noise.
“Look at the girl over there,” one stranger whispers to her husband.
“Which one?” he asks.
“The one with the huge blue coat on; she didn’t even notice the car alarm.”
“And?”
“It’s just a bit strange, that’s all,” she huffs.
“I mean a little.”
“Her boots are filthy! And why on earth has she got a hood on?”
“Maybe she’s cold. Why does it matter to you so much?”
“I just don't like strange dirty girls sculling around the neighbourhood, that’s all.”

A million eyes on me make me shiver, even though my coat. The strangers shoot icy daggers my way. I find my hand moves towards my hood and tugs it further over my face. As my eyes remain fixed on the ground, my feet take me up the stairs into a cafe.

Grace stands in the doorway, admiring the carpet. Eventually, she forces her glance upwards and meets the eyes of the peppy waitress. Her eyes work hard to decode the movement of red lines. They move from straight to oval and straight again, but most of the meaning is lost on Grace.

If I could hear her voice, it would be high pitched and energetic. I imagine that the words would come out loud and fast, like a babbling brook bubbling away. Her voice would match her large smile and bouncy gait.

Eventually, she realises that the waitress has told her to choose a table. Her shaky hand points towards the empty back corner. To most people, the corner is anything but inviting, but today it is just what Grace needs. The waitress nods and leads her to the back. Clumsy gears turn in her brain as she urges her mouth to choke out a slurred thank-you. The blonde waitress’ ponytail is already swishing as she skips back to the kitchen by the time the clumsy sound rumbles out of Grace’s throat. It stops her in her tracks and forces her to turn back towards her customer. She thinks about saying something and begins walking towards Grace. Then she decides not to and continues on her way back to the kitchen. She just leaves Grace standing there.

She just leaves me standing there. My body slumps and collapses into the hard wooden chair. The constant rumble of white noise is still in my head. I groan in frustration that the only sound that travels through my ears and reverberates around my skull is useless buzzing instead of meaningful communication. All high pitched noise is completely lost in the rumble of nothingness.


When I was three I stood at the traffic light holding my mother’s hand. My chubby fingers were intertwined with hers. Another little girl with her mum wandered down the path and planted themselves on the curb next to us. My slurred voice shouted a greeting that roughly resembled hello, unaware of the startling volume at which the sound escaped my lips. I waited expectantly for a reply. I carefully studied her little pink lips, watching and waiting to decode them. However, her reaction was anything but the friendly hello I had been hoping for. Her lips began to quiver and she began to cry. Wide pink ovals hollowed out and made way for the childlike scream to emerge. This unleashed waves of sad salt that drizzled from my eyes and ran down my cheeks. The little girl’s mother turned angrily to mine and said something that child-me did not understand. My mum, however, knew exactly what it meant and hurried away. She stopped at the nearest shop she could and bought an ice-cream to console me (although, I think she was in need of some consolation herself).

After a few minutes of looking over the menu, the peppy blonde waitress makes her way over to Grace’s table, bouncing ponytail and all.
“What do you want?” she asks slowly. Every word comes out of her mouth syllable by syllable. She unknowingly distorts her lips while she does this and therefore makes her question almost incomprehensible to her customer.
“Please speak normally,” Grace asks shyly. She does not mean to be rude or difficult but it is paramount to the way she communicates that the chalky red lines move as expected. Any disruption to their normal rhythm can greatly affect the decoding process. She can tell almost immediately that her request did not come out as nicely as she hoped. The waitress nods and smiles, but her eyes give away her displeasure. Her shoulders droop and her springy gait has become monotonous and lifeless.
“I’m sorry,” Grace says, startled at the thought of upsetting the poor young waitress.
« Last Edit: July 08, 2019, 09:26:00 am by laura_ »
the cage is shattered
the songbird sings
of her freedom once more

soars in blue
basks in the light
leaving nothing
but notes behind

she is never going
back in that cage

laura_

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Re: laura's writing and other artistic endeavours
« Reply #1 on: July 08, 2019, 09:20:22 am »
+9
Sweet Potato and Carrot Soup
This is my own recipe, that seems to evolve a little bit every time I cook it. Originally it was a carrot soup, and I decided to add some leftover roast sweet potato in, and now it has become what it is. Generally, I always add lots of chilli, but I recently started using curry paste instead of just an extra tablespoon of chilli flakes and I think I like the flavour better.

Makes: About 6 bowls

Ingredients:
2 tbsp Olive Oil
1 Onion, chopped
3cm piece of Ginger
6 Medium Carrots, diced
2 Medium Sweet Potatoes, diced
1L of Vegetable Stock
1 tbsp Ground Coriander
1/2 tbsp Hot Chilli Flakes
1 Clove of Garlic
Pepper
1 tbsp of Tikka Masala Paste (or any other red curry paste)
500ml Water

 
Method:
Heat the olive oil in a pot on medium heat.

Add onion, garlic,  ginger, chilli flakes, pepper and ground coriander and cook for 30 seconds.

Add carrot and sweet potato and cook for 1-2 minutes.

Add the stock (and curry paste) and bring it to the boil, then reduce heat and allow to simmer for 20 minutes.

As needed, add water.

Let the soup cool slightly and blend using an immersion blender in the pot.

If you are unhappy with the consistency, add water (1/4 cup or so at a time.).



laura <3

the cage is shattered
the songbird sings
of her freedom once more

soars in blue
basks in the light
leaving nothing
but notes behind

she is never going
back in that cage

Joseph41

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Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
« Reply #2 on: July 08, 2019, 04:17:41 pm »
+2
Looks delicious. Perfect for a winter meal!
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laura_

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Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
« Reply #3 on: July 09, 2019, 08:36:49 am »
+8
;D TRIPLE CHOCOLATE CUPCAKES ;DWith the parentals out all day yesterday (and me left in charge), my little sister I decided to do some baking. We made chocolate cupcakes with chocolate icing and milky ways on top. (Tbh, not really a chocolate fan, but my sister loved them so I couldn't really complain.) We had a lot of trouble with the cupcake recipe, as we had never made it before. I ended up tripling the amount of milk (6 tbsp instead of 2) and the cakes still came out quite dry. I triple checked we included the right amount of everything else, but perhaps our eggs were smaller than the recipe expected. In future, I would probably add a third egg (if I ever made it again). We also didn't have any chocolate (only cocoa powder) so making buttercream like that was a new experience for me. Also, having a set of smaller and less experienced hands wanting to help with everything was annoying at times, but she's so sweet I couldn't be mad.

While the cakes were cooling, my sister and I went on a very long walk to buy some cupcake decorations (and also ingredients for dinner) as there was almost nothing in the house. Coming home and realising that my key to the front door wasn't working was a fun experience. (Luckily I could unlock the backdoor as I had that key as well). In the end, she decided on Milky Ways, but chocolate covered raspberries were a close second.

-------------------------------

Looks delicious. Perfect for a winter meal!

Thanks, J41!
the cage is shattered
the songbird sings
of her freedom once more

soars in blue
basks in the light
leaving nothing
but notes behind

she is never going
back in that cage

laura_

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Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
« Reply #4 on: July 12, 2019, 09:07:44 pm »
+11
Been doing a lot of knitting as of late. Put away a scarf for about a year, but recently got it out and finished it! Very happy with the result but I still need to weave in the loose ends and I would also like to add a large pom pom on each end.

After that project, I cast on a new grey scarf with some wool with a lovely texture. If varies in thickness which has created a nice pattern on the scarf. Undecided on whether I will keep or donate this one. (But I really don't need another scarf.)



In future, I might try to branch out of the garter stitch scarf family of knitting, but it is certainly something I have become very comfortable with.
« Last Edit: July 12, 2019, 09:09:46 pm by laura_ »
the cage is shattered
the songbird sings
of her freedom once more

soars in blue
basks in the light
leaving nothing
but notes behind

she is never going
back in that cage

laura_

  • MOTM: JUNE 19
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Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
« Reply #5 on: July 13, 2019, 07:19:41 pm »
+8
Something a little more melancholy today. A piece that I just put together and have yet to edit, but I just felt that I needed it out of my system.

When Sleep Isn't Enough
It’s exhaustion.
But she’s not just tired.
It’s exhaustion that sleep can’t cure.
It’s years of giving too much.
Of sacrificing pieces of herself.
Years of being what everyone wants her to be.

It’s shame.
Her past haunts her.
She cannot see old friends,
Without remembering what they know about her.
She cannot walk into that room,
She cannot go to that place.
Because that is where she loses control.
That is where she lets her tightly reined mind go.
And her brain races ahead
As vivid memories dance.
She screams as the consume her,
But no one can hear.

She cannot look herself in the mirror
Without seeing her scars.
Years later,
The ugliest of them remain.
Scar tissue covers her arms.
Digestion problems from years of abusing herself,
Will never disappear.

It’s exhaustion.
But she’s not just tired.
It’s balancing every memory.
Compartmentalising.
Pretending.
And sometimes one more thing is all it takes,
To topple the whole stack.

But she is sick of giving herself away.
Tired of being what she thinks they want her to be.
She is sick of hating her self.
Sick of hurting herself.
Sick of the shame.
Sick of the lies.

The Fear is Suffocating Me
I am terrified.
After years of giving it my all,
I am terrified I won’t make it to the finish line.

I am petrified.
That I’m not good enough.
That no matter how hard I try,
It will never be enough.

I am scared.
That my schooling can only end in disappointment.
That I have set my expectations so high that there is no way I can ever meet them.
That ever if I achieve my goals,
I will still feel regrets.
That there will always be something more I could have done.

I am terrified.
Scared of trying my best.
Petrified of giving it my all.
Because what if I do everything?
Sacrifice it all?
And it still isn’t enough?

I am so tired.
I am burning the candle at both ends and I can’t seem to stop myself.
I am tired and aching.
I am anxious all the time.

I have never felt so suffocated.
Surrounded by noise.
Lonely in a crowd.
Disconnected.

I am my own worst critic.
And I am terrified.
« Last Edit: July 13, 2019, 07:48:01 pm by laura_ »
the cage is shattered
the songbird sings
of her freedom once more

soars in blue
basks in the light
leaving nothing
but notes behind

she is never going
back in that cage

laura_

  • MOTM: JUNE 19
  • Part of the furniture
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Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
« Reply #6 on: July 17, 2019, 06:38:28 am »
+9
Just a little something...

12AM
The clock ticks over to midnight and a new day begins. The sun is long gone now and instead the sky is littered with pockets of white light. Tired eyes search the sky for answers to impossible questions. They hunt for sleep in darkness destroyed by streetlights. They stare up at an imperfect moon. Almost round, almost whole.

Burn
A phoenix is a beautiful creature. It represents true resilience and reminds us that even in the darkest times beauty can be created. When we are going through tough times we can remember that are worthwhile if we only know to grow from them.

Feathers turn to flames. Burn. Flames turn to ash. Burn. Ash turns to dust. But still the phoenix burns.
the cage is shattered
the songbird sings
of her freedom once more

soars in blue
basks in the light
leaving nothing
but notes behind

she is never going
back in that cage

Bri MT

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Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
« Reply #7 on: July 17, 2019, 03:20:32 pm »
+5
Just a little something...

12AM
The clock ticks over to midnight and a new day begins. The sun is long gone now and instead the sky is littered with pockets of white light. Tired eyes search the sky for answers to impossible questions. They hunt for sleep in darkness destroyed by streetlights. They stare up at an imperfect moon. Almost round, almost whole.

Burn
A phoenix is a beautiful creature. It represents true resilience and reminds us that even in the darkest times beauty can be created. When we are going through tough times we can remember that are worthwhile if we only know to grow from them.

Feathers turn to flames. Burn. Flames turn to ash. Burn. Ash turns to dust. But still the phoenix burns.


Small correction: we are worthwhile even when we don't know how to grow from them. Sometimes we grow without knowing how or why, sometimes it takes a while for us to grow, and during the whole process we retain our value.


I've liked reading your works and the perspectives you convey through them - thank you for sharing :)
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laura_

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Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
« Reply #8 on: July 17, 2019, 05:22:35 pm »
+5
Time ticks too slowly for my liking.
Always moving forward,
At a constant dragging speed.
But as I lay here at 4:21,
I can’t help thinking how nice it would be,
If 4:22 came round much faster than I’m used to.
And as 4:27 becomes 4:28,
The speed of time still feels inane.
the cage is shattered
the songbird sings
of her freedom once more

soars in blue
basks in the light
leaving nothing
but notes behind

she is never going
back in that cage

laura_

  • MOTM: JUNE 19
  • Part of the furniture
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Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
« Reply #9 on: July 19, 2019, 12:09:50 pm »
+6
Some pictures from the city!











the cage is shattered
the songbird sings
of her freedom once more

soars in blue
basks in the light
leaving nothing
but notes behind

she is never going
back in that cage

laura_

  • MOTM: JUNE 19
  • Part of the furniture
  • *****
  • Posts: 1072
  • happy, free, confused and lonely at the same time
  • Respect: +521
Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
« Reply #10 on: July 23, 2019, 07:17:13 am »
+4
Last night, doodling seemed much more appealing than doing homework.


the cage is shattered
the songbird sings
of her freedom once more

soars in blue
basks in the light
leaving nothing
but notes behind

she is never going
back in that cage

laura_

  • MOTM: JUNE 19
  • Part of the furniture
  • *****
  • Posts: 1072
  • happy, free, confused and lonely at the same time
  • Respect: +521
Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
« Reply #11 on: July 25, 2019, 06:42:24 pm »
+5
Sometimes it is ok to
Do nothing but be,
To do nothing but breathe,
To lie down on the floor
And just remember you exist.
the cage is shattered
the songbird sings
of her freedom once more

soars in blue
basks in the light
leaving nothing
but notes behind

she is never going
back in that cage

laura_

  • MOTM: JUNE 19
  • Part of the furniture
  • *****
  • Posts: 1072
  • happy, free, confused and lonely at the same time
  • Respect: +521
Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
« Reply #12 on: August 03, 2019, 10:14:34 am »
+8
Choc Chip Cookies!


I used this recipe with slight alterations. I added a little more vanilla, as well as putting in half a cup of chocolate chips and half a cup of white chocolate chunks (rather than one cup of choc chips).
the cage is shattered
the songbird sings
of her freedom once more

soars in blue
basks in the light
leaving nothing
but notes behind

she is never going
back in that cage

laura_

  • MOTM: JUNE 19
  • Part of the furniture
  • *****
  • Posts: 1072
  • happy, free, confused and lonely at the same time
  • Respect: +521
Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
« Reply #13 on: August 07, 2019, 09:10:19 pm »
+6

Two finished scarves and one in the making.
« Last Edit: September 04, 2019, 06:55:50 pm by laura_ »
the cage is shattered
the songbird sings
of her freedom once more

soars in blue
basks in the light
leaving nothing
but notes behind

she is never going
back in that cage

laura_

  • MOTM: JUNE 19
  • Part of the furniture
  • *****
  • Posts: 1072
  • happy, free, confused and lonely at the same time
  • Respect: +521
Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
« Reply #14 on: September 04, 2019, 07:09:24 pm »
+5
a bit of an experiment...

« Last Edit: October 06, 2019, 08:16:37 pm by laura_ »
the cage is shattered
the songbird sings
of her freedom once more

soars in blue
basks in the light
leaving nothing
but notes behind

she is never going
back in that cage