Unrealized Dreams Dance ACEO Art Trading Card

I made this dance themed ACEO art trading card last night. In a sense, it is a dream unrealized for me, as I always wished I had been a dancer growing up. I did do gymnastics, but I always wished I could have been a dancer as well. Now with all my physical problems, I doubt I could ever make it through a dance class. Do you have any unrealized dreams like that?

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You can find this card and other art for sale on my Ebay!

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Life is Pain

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Life is pain.

And I don’t mean that
in some philosophical
bullshit way…(or maybe I do?)

Life is pain, whether it
be physical, mental,
emotional, or existential.

The gentle yearning ache
of a heart perpetually unfulfilled…

The bittersweet bile of nostalgia
creeping up one’s throat…

The sharp bite of our
unreliably aging bones…

The mind-numbing weight
of each day survived intact…

The desperate call of a soul
that may or may not actually exist…

~ Maranda Russell

Writing Prompt: Message in a Bottle

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Today’s writing prompt: If you were to write a message in a bottle, what would it say? Who would you hope finds it?

My response: “To whoever finds this, I was here. I lived. I loved. I hurt. I laughed. I cried. You will too. Enjoy the ride.”

I would hope it was found by a thoughtful young person who was just starting out in life. Someone who isn’t too cynical or jaded yet, but is mature enough to appreciate life for what it is.

Angry at the Grass

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The grass waves at me
but I don’t feel like
greeting it back.
Must be so simple
to just sway in the wind,
no worries
no cares,
everything you have
the sun painted on your back.
It almost makes me glad
you’ll soon be mown down.

~ Maranda Russell

Writing Prompt: What Would Your Happy Ending Look Like?

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For a while I’ve been wanting to start posting occasional writing prompts to my blog. Just a question or two or a spark of an idea to hopefully inspire you guys to take up your pen/pencils/keyboard and write out your thoughts and feelings. Even if you aren’t a writer by profession like myself, writing out your ideas, beliefs, and emotions can be extremely therapeutic. I plan to post the prompt itself and then do a short writing response myself to the prompt to hopefully inspire you further or help you get to know me even better. So today’s prompt is…

What would you envision as a happy ending to your own life?

My response: If I could plan the perfect ending to my life, it would look something like this: Most importantly, I would die loved and surrounded by people who will genuinely miss me. I hate to think of hurting people by leaving when they want me to stick around, but it is much better than the alternative of dying all alone and having either no one to care or having a funeral where only the officiator shows up.

Secondly, I would like to go out a success. What does that mean to me? Not being rich necessarily, although it would mean not dying penniless or homeless or from starvation and lack of medical care. I would have enough resources to meet my needs and a few pleasures on a regular basis. I would die having left a large positive impact on the world, being respected for what I did, inspiring others to be more creative and compassionate, and having contributed to helping many people think about important things more thoroughly and reasonably.

Lastly, a good death to me would mean that all the people and things I loved and leave behind (family, friends, books, toys) will all have found good homes of their own and others who appreciate and love them as much as I did.

The Meaning of Age

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What is the meaning of age?

Is it wisdom?
Only if the time has been spent wisely.

Is it growth?
Only if given room and nourishment to grow.

Is it peace of mind?
Only if all has been found within.

Is it neglect?
Only if the choice is made to turn away.

Is it irrelevance?
Only if importance lies solely in fads.

Is it regret?
Only if wonder and honor are allowed to slip away.

Hiking with Hemingway

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Hiking with Hemingway
Written By: Maranda Russell

One foot in front of the other,
he reminds himself sternly,
pulling the edge of his hat down
to shield his sensitive brown eyes
from the glare of the city lights
winking in the distance.

Every glimpse of human society,
of the burning embers
from love lost and found
and lust thrown to the ground,
only serve to make a lesser man
turn his heart aside.