Let’s Talk

Hmmm… I am not really sure what to say. So lets talk, just you and me. Converse, speak, chat, communicate, discuss, gossip, prattle, sing, yell, scream, twitter, or maybe just blog. A lot of people talk, they can talk for minutes, hours, or days straight. We can all do it, some of us do it without even noticing it, but the problem is that People talk, and talk, and talk but never say a word. ...

September 21, 2009 · Monica Multer

Prairie Dog Love

While Downtown the other day with a friend I saw a postcard of two prarie dogs kissing. I then picked it up, showed it to my friend and said: I have seen them do that. She didn’t believe me, here is my proof of prairie dogs kissing. The second picture just cracks me up because I caught it sticking his tongue out. Very funny.

September 21, 2009 · Monica Multer

IB Art Project

Sorry about the crappy picture I had to use my old camera. This is me after being locked away working on my IB art project for four and a half hours straight. Still, not that much progress. I like where it is heading though. However I am still unsure about a lot of things. I am trying to make a cigarette out of matches, but I am having a lot of problems. I am not sure how to color it accordingly to make it look like a cigarette. I really don’t want to have to paint over it because then you couldn’t tell if they were matches but I don’t know what else to do.

September 20, 2009 · Monica Multer

The Trees and The Leaves

Here is a very generic poem of mine, I dislike it but I have nothing else to put up currently. This is why I think classes don’t make writers, they create canned poetry. Here is some good evidence of the fact. The leaves are falling Gone in a blur But who will remember The fallen leaves Each color unique As they drift away Forever forgotten Gone in the breeze The trees protectors Forgotten, when they fall Never to be remembered For who they really are When they have fallen They freeze in the snow Forsaken and discarded Like an old broken toy The trees stand bare Believing they can stand Forgetting the leaves And their role in its life Winter pushes forward The tree cannot stand But the leaves all fallen Can never be returned As the snow melts The tree must see Its horrible mistake The fallen leaves lay dead Buried by snow Now the tree stands bitter and alone So it grows more leaves To replace those loyal to it So easily forgetting its treason But as years pass by And seasons replay Over and over The tree repeats its mistake Never learning its lesson Cursed forever to relive its life The leave’s revenge For they never fall alone Because inside they know Each fall that passes Has its winter in turn

September 20, 2009 · Monica Multer

Ladybug Ride

It is fun to be a kid sometimes. This is me playing in a park near Bend Oregon.

September 19, 2009 · Monica Multer

Missing Child

The woman stands Arms full of grocery bags In front of a store She doesn’t move She is frozen Those that pass her Look to try and see What her far away stare Is focused upon What horror she is witnessing But what they don’t see Is that it isn’t An image her stricken eyes Have fallen upon But the absence of it Alone the mother stands Her child is nowhere Gone from sight Disappeared into a world Beyond the safety of a mother’s touch Where there is no play Only a harsh reality Of survival and death She wonders How could this happen What did I do To deserve this punishment The statue begins To regain life As a scream burst forth From petrified lungs Dying for release The bags fall As her arms reach out For something that Is no longer there Her child is gone In just a blink of an eye She has vanished The mother screams Over and over again For her child But there is no answer Just the stares of the passersby She falls to her knees Her child’s favorite foods Lay strewn about The mother of a missing child She hears nothing Sees nothing But her child Before she was gone Remembering that last look The last moment before Destiny was changed Taking her baby away from her So she sits on her knees Her arms held out to nothing With her child’s favorite foods But no child No one stops to help Because they don’t understand What it means to lose A part of them But now she does The wailing statue Waiting with empty arms And a horrible plea For a missing child to come back And never again leave

September 19, 2009 · Monica Multer

Thinking of Nick (Cal Poly)

A year ago my dad, Nick, and I went to visit Cal Poly San Luis Obispo to see if Nick would want to go there. He is there now. I miss him a lot, but i am sure he is enjoying his time as a college student. These are some photos of an alley way we found downtown in San Luis Obispo. Yes, That is Gum Coating the Entire Wall. ...

September 18, 2009 · Monica Multer

Natural Bridges

I am trying out some black and white photo styles. This is in Natural Bridges if you couldn’t tell.

September 17, 2009 · Monica Multer

T.V. Reality

I went into Kmart today and you know what I saw that just made me sick to my stomach? They have those shopping carts you push your kid around in shaped like a mini car that had T.V.s in them. GIVE ME A BREAK?! Do you dislike your kid that much that you don’t even want to have to deal with them while you shop? This just makes me cringe when I think about it. People seem to think if you plop a T.V. down in front of their rambunctious toddler it will shut them up and make them into a polite little angel. ...

September 17, 2009 · Monica Multer

Implosion

How fast does The human heart die When a cry Is all that portrays A desperate agony The sound of a heart Ripping itself into pieces “No more” it cries “I am done It hurts too much To keep going” So does it take years Or maybe only seconds For the heart to implode Slowly collapse in on itself To bleed out on the streets Where people watch But no one moves To save an innocent from death There is just a silent horror Reflected in dull empty eyes Watch as a hand Dips into my chest Pulls out my heart It cries and it cries “I am done, I am done” One last rebellion To die before the sun It was hidden away For it’s whole life Now in death it is shown Looking into the light

September 16, 2009 · Monica Multer