What are Ozlandish Writings?

From July 2010 to December 2014 we ran OZLAND PICTURE STORIES as described below. Sadly though the number of writers reduced over the years and we decided to call it a day. We leave these as a record of the good times we had.

Are "You" ready to challenge your writing skills? Then participate in our OZLAND Picture Stories writing series at The Ozland Art Gallery.

Each month a new picture will be picked, from our OZLAND Artist of the Month collection, with different themes. Your goal is to write a 500-1000 word... poem... essay... or story about the picture picked. This is a chance for you to challenge your writing skills each month. Story can be written in ANY genre... sci fi... romance... ghost... fantasy... fiction... non-fiction... biography... mystery... historical... whatever your writing genre... feel free to experiment. Send your writing inworld to Sven Pertelson as a notecard to have it included on the web site. We meet at the The Ozland Art Gallery each Wednesday at Noon and 6pm SLT to read the latest submissions on voice. More Information

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Violin is a dream - by Relay Caedmon

She stood by the window looked out over the busy streetlife below. The guards near the corner of the alley who seemed to play a bet game, the older women around the waterwell and the children who chased each other all over the lively street below.

She looked back at her notes and tried to view them carefully. Her hand who held the violin slowly raised to put the musical instrument in place at her shoulder. Her eyes closed and from the first touch a string of sad and emotinal sounds left the apartment and reached out in among the crowds below. Her emotions and feelings came to life thru the sounds and tears started to slowly leave her half closed eyes. So much joy passion and lust all in one and the same time.

The beggar who heard the tunes from her violin felt that his life was little easier, as if some stones left his shoulders, as if he didnt had any problems in the world. He glanced up to were the music came from and took a deep breath of relief and just enjoyed the music.

The women who stood around the waterwell also stopped in their doings and listened to the music. Hours later the violin girl still played at the window while she made life little bit easier even for the most unfortonate ones below. She could feel how good her music was to others and she smiled while she played.

Many years later when generations passed the street below you could still hear the violin if you are there and close your eyes and try to block the busy street live around you. When winds takes it the right direction you can hear it very very far away. Dont open your eyes or the magic moment will disapeare, just like a wind passing by.

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