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


Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Explorations: Part 2 of an Ongoing Saga by Tami and Trybil

Explorations: Part 2 of an Ongoing Saga by Tami  and Trybil

So here I am, flapping my ears as I hover here, watching the circus below me. Just don't call me Dumbo, or you will regret it. So much has happened, in not so many turns of the world I created...

There were no days or nights at first, until it occurred to me to make them. Without some frame of reference time didn't really have a lot of meaning. It turns out making days and nights is sort of a challenge, as it involves making a Sun and a rotating planet and all.

After I realised that I could pretty much do or be anything, I had started to explore who I was, or rather, who I could be. At first I had gotten stuck on glamor and glitter, and tried on Halle Berry, Kiera Knightly, Marilyn Monroe, Sophia Loren, Taylor Swift, and a whole slew of starlets, musicians, sex symbols and media darlings.

Then a scary yet exciting thought occurred to me: I can see what it is like to be a guy. So scrunching up my eyes I make myself think the unthinkable: "penis". Oh wow, this is really odd, there is something quite foreign between my legs. "OK, get your mind above your waist", I tell myself. "Here I go, Brad Pitt I am." But even though that was fun for a while, it was only in a "hmm, this is different" kind of way.

Well, that realisation started the real exploration. I became a kitten, a puppy, a cow, a bird, and countless other animals. I couldn't stop giggling at my trunk when I was an elephant, and a giggling elephant is not a pretty sight! You can't help but snort and fizzle and make trumpeting noises. The prehensile tail of a spider monkey is pretty awesome! I am too embarrassed to discuss the things I did with that tail!

Wings are nice, but once I made wings, I had to create a whole world to fly around in, including air currents, clouds, and a ground to cast my shadow upon. I added an ocean and became a fish. It felt really funny breathing underwater; I couldn't dodge the thought of drowning. I don't know how fish do it, I suppose they don't know any better.

Then I learned one lesson I'll never forget -- "Being Kelp is Boring." B. O. R. I. N. G. Sitting there, slowly wafting in the current, being nibbled at by passing fish, please just put me in some sushi and be done with it! In fact, being any plant is pretty much the same, I really don't recommend it.

I don't like spiders much, but it was sort of cool having 8 legs and being able to cast a web. When it came to eat that fly that I snagged, the thought of sucking its guts out with my proboscis sort of creeped me out. I am sure the other spiders would have laughed at me for being so timid. Oh that's right I didn't make any other spiders, the world can do without them I decided.

The thing is, I can look like anything I want and do anything I want, but it doesn't change who I am. I still feel exactly the same. I can become a demon but I don't feel evilness radiating from me. I can become a glowing white angel complete with a halo and I'm not suddenly enlightened about good and evil, heaven and hell. I'm still just me. Hmm, what should I do next?

Well, let's do THE grand experiment ... In the beginning there was light. Check! And into that light there was cast an Earth. Check! And onto the Earth, the Goddess put Caesar's Palace hotel. Ok, so I have to improvise here, give me a break!

Around the hotel, I put a city. It was a lot like Tokyo. I kind of like Tokyo; I must have spent time there but I can't remember it well enough to get it all correct. So I mix in some London, New York, Rome and a bit of Winnipeg. No idea why Winnipeg but it had something to do with the city busses.

A girl has to have a place to get a good double non-fat Vente Cappucino (I like my coffee sweet, not syrupy), so of course there is Starbucks. But, what was a Starbucks without a cute barista who looked kind of like Mathew McConnachy? So, *poof* there is a barista.

But a real city needs a lot more. So I made a staff for Caesar's Palace. Busses, taxis, cars, mopeds, subways, all with drivers. A theatre with patrons watching the movie so I had someone to throw popcorn at. A football team called the Tokyo Trojans with 52 nummy men in extremely tight pants. It was exhausting. Envision 50,000 individual fans to fill a football stadium. Give each one a life, a place to live, a job, as well as hopes, dreams, friends, lovers, and of course, facial blemishes. Whew. I am so tired.

The complexity of keeping all my creations sorted and the busses running and the street lights going on at dusk and off at dawn is just too much. The worst part is, no matter how much I do, everything is so predictable. Everything is and acts just like I designed. Even when I close my eyes and try to do random things, when I open them and see what I've done it is all so much like I knew it would be. I think I might just poof the whole city I made and go back to my bubble floating in space.... That sounds so good right now.

I wander down Avenue 468A and find a little cafe on the corner. It's lovely and really quaint, in a kind of urban ghetto way. I think I remember making this, but I never had the time to stop in and have a Latte. Or did I get around to making it? I must have, for here it is. So in I go and have a seat. The waiter obediently does what is expected of him (they always do) and takes my order for a double Latte with extra sugar. Seated three tables over is another patron, a voluptuous girl in suede boots with big boobs and a clingy top. Hmmm, I don't remember creating her either but my mind is so frazzled I can't keep it all straight anymore.

The Latte arrives and I take a sip. MMMMM. Just like I remember. Of course it is. I feel a tap on my shoulder. It is the girl in the clingy top. She looks rather more slutty than I thought I would have made. I must have been in a strange mood at that time. Perhaps not as strange as when I invented the gay sumo midget's bathhouse ...

"Hey you". She says to me. "Hey what?". Some nerve for her to be so brazen; this creation stuff is getting out of control. I think her into disappearing. It's time to get rid of that bimbo. But still she stands there, staring me down in that hideous top full of oversized jiggling boobs. "Hey what?" I say again.

"Hey girl, what the Fuck are you doing in *my* Cafe?" Oh my! This has gone way too far. I stand up and wish the whole Cafe into oblivion. Huh? I have created a crater around the place a mile deep, but the Cafe and Miss Bimbo remain, her surly face an inch from mine.

Oh dear.

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