A Rainy Day and a Snowy Night

The title of this post refers to yesterday (Saturday, February nineteenth, 2012), when we had a chilly-but-pleasant rainy day and the first snowfall of the season. Being Lewis Winter, I love my namesake and all it brings, which is why I am half-disappointed in this particular one. One side of me yearns for cold and snow and ice and frost; the other enjoys the nice springy weather. I am glad at least one night, and I'm happy for what we did get...but I cannot help but wonder if global warming has something to do with this. Because I'm sure polar bears don't fancy it as much as we might.

Politics aside, I wrote a short poem a few minutes ago and would like to share. I am calling it "Rain Cycle" for now.

Rain

Falling

Onto leaves

And then dripping

Into the soft earth

Cycles back to the sky

And will soon return to rain.

Reminds me a bit of Herb Moore's album H2O Overture, but I like it otherwise. Any comments? Feedback? Death threats?

It's been rather warm today, but I got a good load of reading done. Now if you'll excuse me, I have forty-seven pages to read in order to complete my new 200-page daily reading goal.

Have a nice day.

-- Lewis M. Winter

Poem: The Resting Field

Great gray-brown hulks arrive,
Trunks dragging, to the Resting Field.
It has been a long time,
A tedious journey, but youth cannot disturb the cages.
Only elders know the place.
The Resting Field is a sort of Heaven, a place of respite.


---

{Poem's end} - It seemed longer on the page, both in terms of space and concerning its message (it's about an elephant graveyard, if that was not clear). Maybe I ought to expand? Another interesting thing is that I wrote the entire thing (as of yet) during English class - not as an assignment, but upon completing one which was assigned. Maybe I shall post that as well? We'll see, eh?

Rest well, and good-bye for now,

- Lewis

Poem: Dream Theories

If dreams were physical,
I should think they'd be crystals -
Only somewhat clear.
They are as soft and as hard as a glockenspiel's notes.
Oneiric ocean waves lap at the mind's feet
And tease the Eye with knowledge of beyond.
What is a dream, anyhow?
Is it real, and this the long subconscious excursion?
Dreams are an elf's breath, a dragon's tears.
What blue, astral, heavenly cloud could compare
To dark mental forests and speaking birds?
The winds of mountain seas are calling.

I'm in!

On Monday I auditioned for Applause!'s musical School House Rock - and I got it! This was my second time auditioning, my first being one I did not make it into (The Somewhat True Tale of Robin Hood). I suppose in this case the second time's the charm? I do not yet know who I am playing, but this was a great victory to me. It's just a matter of persistence, as with publishing. But once you're in, it's great because you can honestly say that you are. I look forward to the actual performing and all that precedes and proceeds it. And I'll meet new people.

Here are my dream roles:

• Sweeney Todd or Judge Turpin
• Sherlock Holmes or Moriarty
• Dr. Victor Frankenstein or the Monster
• Count Dracula or Abraham Van Helsing
• Atticus Finch or Bob Ewell
• Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde
• The Mad Hatter or the Cheshire Cat
• Grendel
• Willy Wonka
• Gandalf the Grey (The Hobbit)
• The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
• Quasimodo
• Any sort of Nazi/SS officer
• Mercutio Montague
• President Coriolanus Snow
• Emperor Palpatine
• The Other Father (Coraline)
• Iago (Othello)
• Norman Bates
• Macbeth. I said the word!
• The modern major-general
• Ben Mears or Mark Petrie, perhaps even Barlow or Straker, or Father Callahan (all so great)
• Hades
• ...And anything else I can get. Those are my top, though.

I've already played brave, brave Sir Robin - that was fun, although it was five and a half years ago. I do realize I have some double choices; such is not only a backup thing, but also because I have two favorite types of characters: creepy/scary villains and roguish rapscallions. I can be evil, but I can also be like my real self: a scoundrel. Some, such as Mr. Todd, are both. Others are also in there.

I actually did not sing for a long time due to a music teacher I had in elementary school - I am partly to blame of course, for letting her get to me, but I became very embarrassed to speak in musical notes for many years. Now I am making up for my years of sloth by catching up to things.

Also, in the matter of getting in, I think I must at long last polish something up to send off to a magazine. I'll probably be rejected, but persistence is key, no? Probably just a poem, as I still need to sort out my stories.

French I taught me that "adieu" is very final, as in funerals, so I'll just say

Au revoir! Bonjournee!

-Lewis

Poem: The Queen of Sprites

Her Majesty Queen Darkpetal

Of the sprites of Nimbling Wood

Has yet to ascend to full spritehood.

She must find her namesake,

A bird’s tooth, a snake’s eyelid,

And the marrow of a human

To become wholesome.

Created by a dragon’s tear

Striking a blue rose on summer solstice,

She is incomplete, but no sprite yet

Has become whole; she is the first of the kind,

And will become the first whole one.

The Last Post of 2010

Probably. I could spontaneously have another thought and post again, but in theory, this is my last post of 2010. It has been a good year, I'll say that. I wrote and read plenty (although I probably could have read more), and met lots of cool people. Many awesome movies came out, so I suppose I'll list my favorite ten in no particular order:

• Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1
• Toy Story 3
• Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time
• The Sorcerer's Apprentice
• The Social Network
• Alice in Wonderland
• How to Train Your Dragon
• Clash of the Titans
• Iron Man 2
• Despicable Me
• Inception

Yeah, so that was eleven. Whatever. In other words, we had some good ones this time. I just realized that I missed Dinner for Schmucks, Tron: Legacy, Megamind, and Shrek Forever After, but I can't push it too much...can I? I also have yet to see some of them, such as True Grit and Gulliver's Travels. Either way, I enjoyed 2010 very much. I got a saltwater aquarium in the spring, which is still amazing (though we seem to have an invasive anemone on one of the rocks); we got my sister a dog (sister Laura, dog Launa - Laura's REALLY clever); I met Cory Doctorow, who was a really cool bloke; we went to Disney World in late September and stayed into early October; and I this year took up the name of L.M. Winter.

Overall, this was probably one of my favorite years. I probably ought to write a poem on the year, but this will be off the top of my head:

From eyelash wishes

To marine crabs and fishes,

From Health-class antics

To a scene from The Frantics,

From writing group

To picking up dog poop,

From reading Stephen King

To some other thing,

And I suppose while this lasts,

I'll mention Doctor Who podcasts,

The year is nearly gone,

So now my music's on

As I write these words

And time flies like birds

To the worlds beyond ours

And soon there will be flowers

Sprouting from the soil

And then the sun will boil

Even icy water.

And then Harry Potter

Will conclude its epic story -

Viewing will be mandatory -

Somewhere in July.

Time still will fly:

Death and birth will both occur,

Of that we can be sure.

Then Old Man Winter and his Young assistant

Will come ready and persistent

To sweep away daisies

Pushed up by old crazies

And the year along as well - 

We see that there is no hell

Or heaven in the end;

There is only death, and life to spend.

But this year has been great

And is now getting late.

We had great snows early

And again at the end: surely

There will be more?

I hope to open the door

Next year to a field of white

Which glimmers quite bright

In the sun, bouncing off crystals

As I put away pistols

To bring out a seasonable

Weapon, one more reasonable:

A ball of white snow

To hit my rivals before they know.

No matter what year,

There, then, now, here,

No matter what splinter

Of summer or winter

Or spring or autumn,

Top class or bottom,

We are alive

And should always strive

To make the very most

Of the moment, whether writing ghost

Tales or tales otherwise tall,

Or if you're not writing at all,

You must pay heed to time, and yet

You must not by any means get

Sucked into its void,

Whether it's ever toyed

With your concepts of progression

Or makes you think of regression.

Time is complex, but do not worry:

Just live your life, for there is no hurry.

Man, that went on for a while! Like I said, it was written just now, so it probably needs some work. But what I was trying to convey was that time may fly, but while the future needs planning to a certain extent, I choose to focus primarily on the present moment.

All in all, the year ends soon, but what is it but numbered dates? Life moves on at any rate. I plan to do many things still, such as complete my novel, improve my piano skills (I think a teacher at my elementary school might still be teaching), learn guitar and maybe join marching band with some other third instrument, take Drivers' Ed, learn about filmmaking, et cetera. I have plenty of things I plan to do, but now is now, and I'm blogging. But not for long: I think I'll check my email and then read my first Jane Yolen story. Oh, and speaking of firsts: I watched a small part of a Doctor Who today, called "Midnight." I think it was a newer one, and that just might have been this David Tennant everyone speaks of.

What a long post (mainly due to the "poem")!

Happy New Year!

Lewis M. Winter