Wet and Aggressive Corella challenges Magpie

Wet and Aggressive Corella challenges Magpie

Wednesday, 20 July 2016

Words for Wednesday

The lovely Delores at Under the Porch Light had been running this meme for a considerable period of time, week after week.   Computer issues led her to bow out for a while and I took over.  When Delores' absence looked like being more permanent I begged and cajoled for other volunteers to share providing the prompts, and Words for Wednesday became a movable feast.  Sadly Delores has (temporarily I hope) discontinued her blog, though we have been told that she will be back in the fullness of time.

Essentially the aim is to encourage us to write.  Each week we are given a choice of prompts: which can be words, phrases, music or an image.   What we do with those prompts is up to us:  a short story, prose, a song, a poem, or treating them with ignore...  We can use some or all of the prompts.

Some of us put our creation in comments on the post, and others post on their own blog.  I would really like it if as many people as possible joined into this fun meme.  If you are posting on your own blog - let me know so that I, and other participants, can come along and applaud.

This month the prompts will be published here.


Months ago Olga Godim sent me some amazing photographs of paintings saying that they would make great prompts.  She is right.

I am going to spread them out.  One today, and one next week. 

This first one was painted by Alfred Stevens (1823-1906).  


Intriguing isn't it?

Then to some words:

  1. exhibition;
  2. feelings;
  3. bewitching;
  4. captive;
  5. gushing; and
  6. candle
And a phrase, from a poem by Carl Sandburg:
'The fog comes on little cat feet.....'.
I am really looking forward to seeing what you make from one or more of these prompts.
  

105 comments:

  1. It is amazing that someone painted that!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sandi: Isn't it incredible? The details, and the texture...

      Delete
  2. Like a painting at an exhibition,
    feelings bewitching,
    a young man is held captive.
    He feels his heart gushing
    at a candle in a window.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Martin Kloess: And I suspect like Romeo he falls irrevocably in love.

      Delete
    2. Awe sweet mystery of life....

      Delete
  3. How did the artist do the arm under the sleeve like that? Amazing!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Marie Smith: He wasn't an artist I was aware of, but I am blown away by his skill.

      Delete
  4. The painting is beautiful, feelings.

    ReplyDelete
  5. The fog clearly hasn't heard Angel's not-so-little cat feet thundering through the house (*~*)
    The painting holds quite a lot of emotion.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. River: Jazz n Jewel are thunderers too. And loud with it.

      Delete
    2. I'm glad our cats aren't the only ones who sound like a thundering herd when they chase each other through the house.

      Delete
  6. The creature held a candle illuminating a bewitching sight. Feelings ran high when captive onlookers saw the exhibition of lifeforms for the first time. They were gushing with life and alive. How was this possible?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Spacer Guy: I wonder just what the captive onlookers will do with those lifeforms. Treat them with respect and kindness I hope.

      Delete
    2. I would have loved to be one of the onlookers.

      Delete
  7. This was done in a hurry because I'm on my way out for a few hours, but I wanted to play along...so here is my attempt for this week...built around the image...and, of course, the words and phrase....

    "Pensively she sat, caressed by the BEWITCHING CANDLE-light,held CAPTIVE by her FEELINGS; a prisoner of her memories. Unwelcome tears began GUSHING from her eyes, flowing uncontrollably down her wan cheeks. Hurriedly she wiped them away not wanting to make an EXHIBITION of herself. Wafting through the open window THE FOG COMES ON LITTLE CAT FEET of the bronze-cast statue before her. It was his farewell gift. Would the day ever come again when she would be reunited with her love?"

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Lee: I hope so. I really hope so.

      Delete
    2. sad and sweet Lee, I like it.

      Delete
    3. This is your best ever. The words and the image, with your words--awesome.

      Delete
    4. You opened a lovely little box of words here.

      Delete
  8. 'Oh Mama. Yes I have your letter.
    Agreeing to pose for a talented artist is NOT making an exhibition of myself. Yes, I know, you wouldn't give a candle for my marriage prospects now...
    I don't agree. My pose is modest, and my dress bewitching. I am not a captive to my feelings and gushing about the immoral and licentious artist's world doesn't impress me.
    In the hours I spent sitting for Alfred he paid me no more (and no less) attention that the golden cat. He set us where the light was most flattering and got to work. And I love the results. I am proud of them. My name will be unknown, but my face will live forever, stirring hearts and minds when you and I have been dust for generations...'

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. EC, I love this! That face certainly will live forever and have many people wondering about the sadness and the letter.

      Delete
    2. Oh you gal! Love this twist and the idea of being about the model. Once again you are talented and clever.

      Delete
    3. Great story,EC. I look at this girl in the painting in an entirely different way now.

      Delete
    4. Glenda Council Beall: I really hope that you will join us some week. Really hope so.

      Delete
    5. Oh, what a wonderful little story. Love it. I wish I could write that short, but I can't. The shortest I ever wrote was about 600 words.

      Delete
    6. Woo Hoo. EXCELLENT, Sue. This was great!

      Delete
    7. Olga Godim: Thank you so much for the stunning prompts. Short is all I can do. Micro-fiction.

      Delete
    8. You've come up with a beautiful thought-provoking painting, and a great selection of words to go with it. Your use of those words truly does the painting justice. Great job!

      Delete
  9. My story will be on my blog on Friday 22nd.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Late in the evening she sat by candle light trying to sort her feelings about him. During the exhibition she had been captive by his attentions. He had called her bewitching and he was literally gushing with his compliments. As she opened the note left on the table she had an ominous thought much like a fog which comes in, sneaks in, on little cat feet, damping the goodness of a day well spent.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Linda Starr: I love it. I hope that she was wrong, and that the romance is good.

      Delete
    2. I am just sure the cad was dumping her because he had to put it in a note left behind. You created some interesting thoughts here. Love it!

      Delete
  11. The fog comes on little cat feet, not been my experience usually I wake up and its there, sometimes I get my camera and try and take pictures but mostly I roll over and go back to sleep.
    Merle........

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Merlesworld: Sometimes I can see the fog drift in in the morning. It is considerably quieter than either of our cats though. Jazz in particular has thunder paws. Nothing subtle about him.

      Delete
  12. Love the words and painting! Busy with boxes and bubble wrap this week, so I just read other's work.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Susan Kane: Not a problem. I hope your packing and your move go really, really well.

      Delete
  13. Replies
    1. Linda: Isn't it amazing? Does it tempt you to tell a story?

      Delete
  14. A moveable feast is more manageable, IF everyone willingly jumps in to do their part. Hurrah that you've gotten the participants. Sounds like a fun group of words to put togehter in a story this week!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. mail4rosey: It is wonderful just how many people have joined the party and contribute by providing prompts. We have the meme covered until the end of this year now - though further volunteers are ALWAYS welcome.

      Delete
  15. Hi EC - I'm tempted to tell another story by the photo with different words ... but I love the art work - amazing to be able to let us see that dress through his brush ...

    Then the poem ... my fog rolls in off the sea - in fact the gauzey mist is drifting across right now ...

    Cheers Hilary

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hilary Melton-Butcher: I would love you to tell a story about the picture - using any words you like. It is up to you how much (and which) of the prompts you use.
      And the gauzy mist is a lovely image.

      Delete

  16. This is my Composition.. By Vest.

    The FEELINGS of the persons who attended the newly formulated evening EXHIBITION Highlighted by the impressive coloured CANDLE lights and who had created impressive floral exhibits but failed to impress the GUSHING judge who obviously was favouring Lord and Lady Cods Wallop's tawdry exhibit (Or that of their gardeners) As was usually the case followed by the exhibit by the village Squire and his newly acquired leggy blonde wife whose visible Undercarriage was highlighted by her BEWITCHING see through attire which thrilled a CAPTIVE audience of gawking village idiots yelling their approval of the Squires latest acquisition - formerly the village Bike.

    I am likely to be put in the Village Stocks for this one.

    Vest back soon.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh my goodness I am blushing Vest. Love it!

      Delete
    2. Vest: I am not certain that the Squire would think the stocks were sufficient punishment...

      Delete
  17. EC. LINDA and Lee. All great stories . Loved them.

    ReplyDelete
  18. Here goes my try at it:

    The exhibition had gone well. She had never known such feelings of joy while his eyes had held her captive. She found him bewitching as she was gushing like a schoolgirl just looking at him. Home now she knew she had to send the letter. That candle of desire had gone out. She had to return the golden cat .. taking it had been wrong. She couldn't help herself. It was that phrase, 'The fog comes on little cat feet' that had stirred her desires to be a cat burglar.

    Thoughts in Progress
    and MC Book Tours

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh my, I made her a bit of a sleuth too. Loved this.

      Delete
    2. Mason Canyon: Love it. I hope she is able to return the cat as skilfully (and without detection) as she took it.

      Delete
  19. I sometimes use word prompts when writing songs. It's interesting how a word, phrase, or picture can send ones brain down a path.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Rick Watson: Some time perhaps you will share one of your songs...

      Delete
  20. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  21. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  22. A story this time instead of a poem It is on my blog along with the picture. Loved having a picture!

    THE BREAK IN by Granny Annie

    Though she had been banned from the exhibition for continuing to touch the displays, she crept into the great hall like "the fog comes in on little cat feet". There was no way to let go of her feelings that made her keep going inside.. She was fearful and could feel her heart pounding. It was bewitching to watch her move with stealth across the room as if a captive making an escape.

    Suddenly the sculpture of the cat caught her eye and she was gushing and reaching out to faintly brush the texture. It surprised her as she accidentally brushed against the candle nearby causing it to go crashing to the floor.

    Security alerted by the crash rushed into the room and forcefully guided this elegant, young, accident prone lady out the door, reminding her she was not welcome there.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Granny Annie: Love it. And I would love to stroke that cat myself. And pick it up, to feel its weight...

      Delete
  23. Granny Annie.You finally made it after a few Hiccups, Good story - pleased to know I made a granny blush.

    ReplyDelete
  24. Wednesday is where the smart people play!!!!!
    Does writing a thank you card count?

    ReplyDelete
  25. Great prompts. LOVE that picture.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sandra Cox: Olga chose an amazing painting to share didn't she?

      Delete
  26. I need to get back into this; writing has fallen rather by the wayside of late and I desperately need to get back into it.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. The Cranky: I hope you can. I always love seeing where the prompts take you.

      Delete
  27. Lovely painting, and I love this idea of writing prompts. As you know, I've been away from blogging for a bit. I have missed it so much, and the wonderful readers like you! Maybe sometime soon I'll get to participate. Until then, I'll read yours and what you come up with for the challenge!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. 2justByou: It is lovely to see you out and about in the blogosphere and I hope you will be able to join us playing with words soon.

      Delete
  28. The exhibition of my candles captivated my feelings in these bewitching hours gushing out the spell I sent forth; after all . . . I'm a Witch.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Lon Anderson: You sound a lot happier now you are being true to your witchy self.

      Delete
  29. I stared at the note in my hand. Rare feelings came gushing from my innermost being. Rage. How had it come to this? Before me on the table a garish cat figure glared at me. He'd left that, along with the note. And taken my own beloved feline. Was she dead, did he kill her out in the woods?

    An exhibition of control it was. How had I not seen this in him, in those bewitching eyes of his. I'd been a virtual captive since our marriage. He hated Daisy because he couldn't control her. This had eaten at him, almost like the cat had taken a knife to his balls.

    A fog bank was rolling in softly, like pillows, like cat feet, like a blanket being pulled over someone to smother the life out. I lit a candle. And loaded the shotgun. Somebody's life was going to get snuffed tonight. That was for sure.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Strayer: Dark, clever - and I can so see this happening if anyone hurt any one of your cats.

      Delete
  30. I stopped by your blog today.
    Ann

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Cozy in Texas: Welcome - I just been to return your visit.

      Delete
  31. http://lettingthewordsescape.blogspot.com/2016/07/forced-to-reconsider.html
    loved loved loved this

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Cindi Summerlin: Thank you. I loved your story and, as I said, wish that the artist could be aware of how many minds he has sparked into different journeys...

      Delete
  32. For whatever reason it wouldn't let me leave a comment under your flash. I loved it, Sue extremely well done.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sandra Cox: It tricked you - and did post your comment. Thank you.

      Delete
  33. My first attempt at such an extremely short piece.
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    She hadn’t wanted to go to the exhibition; had never been interested in Asian art before, but once she was there, every little statuette felt bewitching like a piece of sculpted magic; every painted screen held her captive for minutes at a time. She couldn’t describe her feelings even to herself. So much alien beauty was gushing at her from the displays, she was drowning in it. The unknown artists’ talents shimmered like a candle flame in every elegant line, every graceful flower, burning her with their understated, almost hidden opulence.
    And then, that mysterious Oriental man approached her and thrust a box into her hands. What she found inside was even more amazing: an enameled cat and a letter. The cat stared at her as if it was alive, its jeweled eyes angry, its tail lashing. The letter now hung limply from her fingers. It implied she could learn to create such exquisite objects too. She could finally become a true artist. The only snag was: the price was her life.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Olga Godim: Wow. And wow again. I love this. It is so powerful. I am intrigued. And want to know more. Will she pay the price?

      Delete
  34. The fog comes in on little cat feet, Mother, on the other hand,arrives with a crash and a bang like the center on a thunderstorm. "Ding, dong, ding, dong, ding dong" she rings the doorbell incessantly. Perhaps a call prior to her arrival might lessen these immediate feelings of dread and being held captive in my own home. "What on earth does she need right now" I wonder and answer the door wearing nothing but a forced smile and a pair of pink pajamas. "Oh! Morning Lilly! I thought you would already be dressed, I want you to go somewhere with me. There's an exhibition at The Glen. (It is is a small museum/performance center affiliated with Springdale College in our little town. The actual name is The Glenda Speer Middleton Center for the Performing Arts and Artists but everyone just affectionately calls it The Glen, because it is easier.)
    "What kind of exhibit, Mom?" I ask making sure I have no inflection in my voice that would constitute either agreement or disagreement. (A talent it took me years and years of practice to perfect.) Once Mother hears the slightest agreeable sound it is game on. "Oh this will be a blast, it is a performance piece on the history of illumination. I can just see some bewitching minx wearing a full crystal chandelier beckoning us from the lobby. Please come with me, please!" I dance this dance often and I know it really means "The parking lot is further than I want to walk so please drop me off under the portico, go park the car, then meet me inside. So, I do what every good daughter does and walk into my room to get ready while air dialing my sister and looping an imaginary noose around my neck. I get ready in record time, and begin the short drive to The Glen, drop her off, park, walk to the center only to hear her gushing loudly that the girl in a white leotard and tights has the most beautiful face to anyone near her. "Oh good" I think to myself, "she is behaving!" Until I hear her next observation "But her breasts are entirely too damn big for her to look like a candle" And once again I mentally dial my sister and tighten the imaginary noose I am still wearing. I glance at the order of the exhibit, count and think "Great! One down twelve to go" Just breathe Lilly, just breathe.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Anne in the kitchen: Ouch. I have no sister, but parts of this tale make me wince in memory...

      Delete
  35. I do have a sister IRL and I do have a demanding mother but the above is just wrangling the words given into a semi believable narrative.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Anne in the kitchen: I am sorry. I wasn't implying that your story was true, but it did remind me of my very demanding mother. Essentially your tale was very, very believable.

      Delete
    2. I just read this to my sister and we were laughing that if an exhibition of illumination rolled into town this could be a possible scenario.

      Delete
  36. The brightness of my spirit this morning has chased the darkness from the room. My love received the impromptu note I sent last week and has responded that her feelings match mine exactly! Oh, joy! Putting ones most private thoughts on a piece of paper in full exhibition for all to see can be a frightening and cathartic experience. I was afraid of rambling too much, gushing about her bewitching smile and how I am held captive by her almond eyes. Enough. It's getting late and the fog has become quite dense. Opening the door for the little cat permitted the dampness to enter the room. It's now so dark I shall have to light a candle in order to clean the mist from her little feet. Nothing, however, can dampen or darken my mood today!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Wally Jones: Thank you for joining us. And awww. This is lovely.

      Delete
  37. Replies
    1. Lynn: Some day you will join us. What do you think of the latest Karin Slaughter?

      Delete
  38. I managed to create a poem on my blog but not quite sure how I feel about it! Thanks for the prompts :o)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. HBF: You are always toooo hard on yourself. But part of you knows that. I will read your poem v shortly.

      Delete
  39. Thankfully this wonderful artist isn't here to see what I have done to her beautiful painting ... but it is all in fun. My poetry is not poetry (as my friend the poet would tell me), but it rhymes and suits the occasion. You can see my contribution here (https://fromthesol.blogspot.com/2016/07/words-for-wednesday.html). I am sure there is a better way of linking but as I don't know what it is ... this will have to do. So sorry, I have been so remiss in following or commenting. Life seems to be getting ahead of me these days and I am strictly hit or miss most of the time. I have hopes of getting back to normal at some point :) Thank you for your loyalty ... you are always there with something meaningful to say.

    Andrea @ From The Sol ...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Andrea Priebe: Sometimes life does get in the way. Hugs. And thank you for joining in.

      Delete
  40. P. S. ... My link didn't work so I am trying it again. Suffice it to say, that if you want to see what I have contributed, you can go to my blog "From the Sol" or try this: http://fromthesol.blogspot.com/2016/07/words-for-wednesday.html

    Andrea

    ReplyDelete
  41. Wow. Y'all did a great job with this!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Susan: I hope that some day you will join us.

      Delete
  42. I love the light in that painting! Always so in awe of painters.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dawn@Lighten Up!: Me too. I am awed by all artists.

      Delete
  43. I visited Carl Sandburg's cool rambling mountain home last Summer; the trees were so thick with shade and the air up there so friendly to my lungs that I wanted to stay longer. I felt like his words must carry some of that mountain mist with them as he sent them into the world. Your share just cooled me off (it's 100 degrees and humid here today). I appreciate the breeze of this place:)
    -Jennifer

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Jennifer Richardson: I am always so impressed at how you build words into beautiful kaleidescopes of colour and life.

      Delete
  44. How great everyone has done...wonderful! :)

    ReplyDelete