Let the Duel of Creative Gerbils begin!
On my way to work at two in the morning, my husband and I discussed what has been hindering my writing lately. Of course there's the usual, my body hurts, my brain is a bowl of half boiled noodles (yes, I know there's a culinary word for that, but I'm being rebellious) , the list of things that need to be done sans the resources it takes to do them is ever growing......blah blah blah
What it boils down to is that my Art Gerbil is fighting for attention. My husband gave this funny description to what's going on in my head and actually mimed a bit while driving.
******
"The book comes first, you ancient creature of childhood!" said the Writer Gerbil while pointing her new Foray Advanced Ink Pen with a custom blue sparkly grip at the cowering Art Gerbil.
"But, I was here first! cried the Art Gerbil while clutching her favorite purple mechanical pencil with rotating eraser. "Besides, none of this would've happened if it wasn't for me!".
"Ha! I have been lurking in the shadows for yeeeaarrss with this story. If it hadn't been for me, you would have never started that drawing. It all began with QUESTIONS!" Lightening cracked overhead as Writer Gerbil stabbed the sky with her Foray.
Art Gremlin was quiet for a moment as the scene before her brought about fond memories of Highlander. Duncan McCloud would raised his sword to the sky and proclaim...
Writer Gerbil's brow creased as Art Gerbil just stood there staring at her. She had stopped twisting the end of her pencil.
"Why are you looking at me that way?" she asked. With a quick look to the left, then to the right, she saw nothing that should set off her nemesis.
Art Gerbil was semi-stable at best. If you stood your ground too long, she would more than likely try to find some way to doodle the Acme black hole beneath you. Art Gerbil took a step foreword which made Writer Gremlin take a step back.
"Artie, you really need to keep a hold of yourself. We can work together but, you have to stop these tantrums." Writer Gerbil used the nickname that was given to Art Gerbil by the Master's mate, hoping that the cuteness of it would have some kind of calming effect, unbeknownst to said mate, it never does.
Art Gerbil straightened herself to her full height, which was only intimidating if you were say, the size of a Lima bean. Her feet she positioned in the pose of those she had drawn from many martial arts books. Right foot behind, left foot in front, all weight must be on right foot.
Two clicks of her mechanical pencil echoed through the wilderness of the landscape that was beginning to form around them.
With a click of her 1.2mm pen, Writer Gerbil armed herself for...whatever, as it seemed that Artie had reverted to a world of her own again.
Artie slowly point her purple mechanical .07 pencil with rotating eraser at Writer Gremlin and proclaimed with an eerie Scottish accent, "There can be only one."
This time, the sound of thunder was heard before a lightning bolt arced across a midnight sky.
Writer Gerbil cocked an eyebrow and watched as the landscape of the Master's imagination transformed into jagged bits of foliage and boulders. The sky was now a gradient of indigo blue with a full moon in its center. The words needed to describe the evolving scene came to mind but, she was disgusted at their simplicity and lack of depth. Kind of like the image surrounding her.
Out of nowhere all make and colors of pens, pencils, paintbrushes, sketch journals and stacks of colored paper popped up from the ground between them. Artie cut her eyes down and saw all of her supplies scattered everywhere with no rhyme or reason. Writer Gerbil watched as Artie's face went from determined to horror. Dropping to her knees, Artie began to pick up all of her pens and put them in order of color, then the colored pencils, and lastly the cherished paper.
A slow smile crept across Writer Gerbil's face. "You can't even stay focus long enough to finish what you started. What makes you think you could ever best me in creativity?" The arrogance of her words were like paper cuts to Artie as she cringed from the truth of them.
After she had gathered all the colored paper, Artie clutched the stack to her chest and slowly raised her head to look at Writer Gerbil.
The abstract wilderness disappeared and the white room was back again. Writer Gerbil rolled her eyes and said, "Ah, this is the part where you go from one extreme to the next."
Artie stayed on the floor of the Master's imagination and continued to look at Writer Gerbil. The colors of the art supplies were a stark contrast to the bright white of the room.
One of the pens, a black one, also a Foray but, its Gel ink is meant for doodles, began to shake. With a life of it's own, it flipped onto it's retracted tip. Like thunder from the sky, the echo of it clicking to life made Writer Gerbil flinch.
"What are you going to do Artie? Doodle me another one of my characters so you can feel "involved"?
A ruler shot out across the floor and stopped beside the Gel Pen. Artie looked down at it and cocked an eyebrow just as Writer Gerbil had done before Artie's art supplies were thoughtlessly scattered before her.
The Gel pen took off along the ruler leaving a bold black line in its wake. Racing up the walls of the Master's mind, the ruler kept pace with the Gel pen as they both stayed ink to edge, moving up an inch every time a new line was made.
Writer Gerbil swallowed hard as she realized what Artie was doing.
The ruler and Gel Pen finally stopped right behind Artie, then disappeared to their appropriate places in her cave. The supplies that had been put in their own neat, color coordinated piles vanished as well.
Artie stood up, though it was a slow crawl to get vertical because her back had taken too much punishment over the years from ill made chairs.
It was her turn to watch as Writer Gerbil head kept snapping from floor, to wall to ceiling, the pupils of her eyes getting wider, reminiscent of the Acme black holes. The knuckles of Writer's right hand started to turn white as she tried to control the Foray.
Writer Gerbil fell to her knees and started scribbling on the floor, pausing every few seconds as she tried to think of the right words to describe a scene that had been plaguing her for weeks. Smacking the floor, Writer Gerbil made a sound of frustration. The Foray slashed across a sentence that wasn't good enough. Scooting backwards, Writer Gerbil started a new line and mumbled about needing white out so she wouldn't waste so much paper.
There was no slow, creeping grin on Artie's face. Her shoulders shook a little as she tried not to giggle too loudly. Her smile felt good and she wanted to keep it that way as she reminded Writer Gerbil of her own weakness. She wasn't the only one who lacked focus and confidence.
However, her little triumph was temporary as The Controller Gerbil manifested in between them.
"All right. You two get back to your caves. It's after 7 p.m. and we only have a few hours before work and there's a mess all over your desks that need to be straightened, a shower to be had and some kind of food to be eaten before we go." Writer Gerbil kept writing as if she didn't hear the command and Artie was no where near done gloating.
The Controller looked at Artie then at Writer Gerbil.
"Don't make me get the Enforcer!" there was a nervous hitch in the threat as if just saying the name out loud was dangerous.
Writer Gerbil looked up with eyes that somehow looked too big for her face and asked, "Can I just take this with me? There's something here I know it."
The Controller Gerbil looked down at her as if she had asked a stupid question. "Yes, take it, you can't leave that mess here."
A piece of the white room had been torn from when she dug her pen into the words. Grabbing a hold of its corner, she lightly and carefully pulled it away from the floor. Rolling it up, because folds in paper are frowned upon in this mind, she tucked it gently under her arm, gave a sniff to Artie, turned and walked away.
The Controller watched as the Writer Gerbil vanished back to her cave of post-its, coffee, and numerous pads of paper. Turning to the Art Gerbil, she said, "Well?"
"I...I don't want to go back to my cave. Can I go with you to the control room for awhile? I promise I'll be quiet!" Straightening her hair and clothes, she clasped her mechanical pencil to the V in her shirt to show that she could control her impulse to doodle on everything.
The Controller eyed her from head to toe, then looked at the room around them. With a sly smile she said, "That was pretty smart." Pointing at the lines with the pen that was the most favorite of them all, the B2p Pilot. The Controller had a bit of hidden mischievousness but, for some reason she could only allow herself to loosen up around Artie, even if it was for a millisecond.
Knowing how the Controller worked, as they had been companions since time remembered, Artie didn't gush or go into one of her rants of how something was made. She simply said, "Thanks." with a shy smile which always won over the Controller.
"O.K. you can come with me. However, you can only observe. If you feel just the slightest inclination to draw or go into detail about the color of something, you are to go back to your cave and work it out there. Understood?"
Shaking her head vigorously, Artie kept her eyes wide and innocent. The Controller didn't like it when one fidgeted or didn't look her in the eyes.
"Come on then." said the Controller with a cynical sigh as she offered her arm to Artie.
With a blink they both vanished.
The room became once again a dim void (yes, i laughed at that description too) where dual natures duke it out for dominance. This time, there are no winners. Only a new Gerbil acceptance her own short comings.
________________________
(O.K. this isn't actually what he said but you get the point. What he actually said was, "It's like Voldermort and Harry Potter at the end of the last movie except the Writer Gerbil is using a pen for a wand and the Art Gerbil is using a pencil. As their powers collide, pictures and words spring forth from the center.)
I laughed. It was funny and then both my gerbils decided that they needed to make a comic of the scene. Which of course won't happen any time soon because the Writer Gerbil has locked the door and refuses to open it until she has that damn scene worked out and Artie is too busy looking at flowers.
**Disclaimer: This post, in no way, is a glimpse into how I write. This is just me messin' about til dinner time......unless of course you all think it's good, in which case, it is exactly how I write. **
On my way to work at two in the morning, my husband and I discussed what has been hindering my writing lately. Of course there's the usual, my body hurts, my brain is a bowl of half boiled noodles (yes, I know there's a culinary word for that, but I'm being rebellious) , the list of things that need to be done sans the resources it takes to do them is ever growing......blah blah blah
What it boils down to is that my Art Gerbil is fighting for attention. My husband gave this funny description to what's going on in my head and actually mimed a bit while driving.
******
"The book comes first, you ancient creature of childhood!" said the Writer Gerbil while pointing her new Foray Advanced Ink Pen with a custom blue sparkly grip at the cowering Art Gerbil.
"But, I was here first! cried the Art Gerbil while clutching her favorite purple mechanical pencil with rotating eraser. "Besides, none of this would've happened if it wasn't for me!".
"Ha! I have been lurking in the shadows for yeeeaarrss with this story. If it hadn't been for me, you would have never started that drawing. It all began with QUESTIONS!" Lightening cracked overhead as Writer Gerbil stabbed the sky with her Foray.
Art Gremlin was quiet for a moment as the scene before her brought about fond memories of Highlander. Duncan McCloud would raised his sword to the sky and proclaim...
Writer Gerbil's brow creased as Art Gerbil just stood there staring at her. She had stopped twisting the end of her pencil.
"Why are you looking at me that way?" she asked. With a quick look to the left, then to the right, she saw nothing that should set off her nemesis.
Art Gerbil was semi-stable at best. If you stood your ground too long, she would more than likely try to find some way to doodle the Acme black hole beneath you. Art Gerbil took a step foreword which made Writer Gremlin take a step back.
"Artie, you really need to keep a hold of yourself. We can work together but, you have to stop these tantrums." Writer Gerbil used the nickname that was given to Art Gerbil by the Master's mate, hoping that the cuteness of it would have some kind of calming effect, unbeknownst to said mate, it never does.
Art Gerbil straightened herself to her full height, which was only intimidating if you were say, the size of a Lima bean. Her feet she positioned in the pose of those she had drawn from many martial arts books. Right foot behind, left foot in front, all weight must be on right foot.
Two clicks of her mechanical pencil echoed through the wilderness of the landscape that was beginning to form around them.
With a click of her 1.2mm pen, Writer Gerbil armed herself for...whatever, as it seemed that Artie had reverted to a world of her own again.
Artie slowly point her purple mechanical .07 pencil with rotating eraser at Writer Gremlin and proclaimed with an eerie Scottish accent, "There can be only one."
This time, the sound of thunder was heard before a lightning bolt arced across a midnight sky.
Writer Gerbil cocked an eyebrow and watched as the landscape of the Master's imagination transformed into jagged bits of foliage and boulders. The sky was now a gradient of indigo blue with a full moon in its center. The words needed to describe the evolving scene came to mind but, she was disgusted at their simplicity and lack of depth. Kind of like the image surrounding her.
Out of nowhere all make and colors of pens, pencils, paintbrushes, sketch journals and stacks of colored paper popped up from the ground between them. Artie cut her eyes down and saw all of her supplies scattered everywhere with no rhyme or reason. Writer Gerbil watched as Artie's face went from determined to horror. Dropping to her knees, Artie began to pick up all of her pens and put them in order of color, then the colored pencils, and lastly the cherished paper.
A slow smile crept across Writer Gerbil's face. "You can't even stay focus long enough to finish what you started. What makes you think you could ever best me in creativity?" The arrogance of her words were like paper cuts to Artie as she cringed from the truth of them.
After she had gathered all the colored paper, Artie clutched the stack to her chest and slowly raised her head to look at Writer Gerbil.
The abstract wilderness disappeared and the white room was back again. Writer Gerbil rolled her eyes and said, "Ah, this is the part where you go from one extreme to the next."
Artie stayed on the floor of the Master's imagination and continued to look at Writer Gerbil. The colors of the art supplies were a stark contrast to the bright white of the room.
One of the pens, a black one, also a Foray but, its Gel ink is meant for doodles, began to shake. With a life of it's own, it flipped onto it's retracted tip. Like thunder from the sky, the echo of it clicking to life made Writer Gerbil flinch.
"What are you going to do Artie? Doodle me another one of my characters so you can feel "involved"?
A ruler shot out across the floor and stopped beside the Gel Pen. Artie looked down at it and cocked an eyebrow just as Writer Gerbil had done before Artie's art supplies were thoughtlessly scattered before her.
The Gel pen took off along the ruler leaving a bold black line in its wake. Racing up the walls of the Master's mind, the ruler kept pace with the Gel pen as they both stayed ink to edge, moving up an inch every time a new line was made.
Writer Gerbil swallowed hard as she realized what Artie was doing.
The ruler and Gel Pen finally stopped right behind Artie, then disappeared to their appropriate places in her cave. The supplies that had been put in their own neat, color coordinated piles vanished as well.
Artie stood up, though it was a slow crawl to get vertical because her back had taken too much punishment over the years from ill made chairs.
It was her turn to watch as Writer Gerbil head kept snapping from floor, to wall to ceiling, the pupils of her eyes getting wider, reminiscent of the Acme black holes. The knuckles of Writer's right hand started to turn white as she tried to control the Foray.
Writer Gerbil fell to her knees and started scribbling on the floor, pausing every few seconds as she tried to think of the right words to describe a scene that had been plaguing her for weeks. Smacking the floor, Writer Gerbil made a sound of frustration. The Foray slashed across a sentence that wasn't good enough. Scooting backwards, Writer Gerbil started a new line and mumbled about needing white out so she wouldn't waste so much paper.
There was no slow, creeping grin on Artie's face. Her shoulders shook a little as she tried not to giggle too loudly. Her smile felt good and she wanted to keep it that way as she reminded Writer Gerbil of her own weakness. She wasn't the only one who lacked focus and confidence.
However, her little triumph was temporary as The Controller Gerbil manifested in between them.
"All right. You two get back to your caves. It's after 7 p.m. and we only have a few hours before work and there's a mess all over your desks that need to be straightened, a shower to be had and some kind of food to be eaten before we go." Writer Gerbil kept writing as if she didn't hear the command and Artie was no where near done gloating.
The Controller looked at Artie then at Writer Gerbil.
"Don't make me get the Enforcer!" there was a nervous hitch in the threat as if just saying the name out loud was dangerous.
Writer Gerbil looked up with eyes that somehow looked too big for her face and asked, "Can I just take this with me? There's something here I know it."
The Controller Gerbil looked down at her as if she had asked a stupid question. "Yes, take it, you can't leave that mess here."
A piece of the white room had been torn from when she dug her pen into the words. Grabbing a hold of its corner, she lightly and carefully pulled it away from the floor. Rolling it up, because folds in paper are frowned upon in this mind, she tucked it gently under her arm, gave a sniff to Artie, turned and walked away.
The Controller watched as the Writer Gerbil vanished back to her cave of post-its, coffee, and numerous pads of paper. Turning to the Art Gerbil, she said, "Well?"
"I...I don't want to go back to my cave. Can I go with you to the control room for awhile? I promise I'll be quiet!" Straightening her hair and clothes, she clasped her mechanical pencil to the V in her shirt to show that she could control her impulse to doodle on everything.
The Controller eyed her from head to toe, then looked at the room around them. With a sly smile she said, "That was pretty smart." Pointing at the lines with the pen that was the most favorite of them all, the B2p Pilot. The Controller had a bit of hidden mischievousness but, for some reason she could only allow herself to loosen up around Artie, even if it was for a millisecond.
Knowing how the Controller worked, as they had been companions since time remembered, Artie didn't gush or go into one of her rants of how something was made. She simply said, "Thanks." with a shy smile which always won over the Controller.
"O.K. you can come with me. However, you can only observe. If you feel just the slightest inclination to draw or go into detail about the color of something, you are to go back to your cave and work it out there. Understood?"
Shaking her head vigorously, Artie kept her eyes wide and innocent. The Controller didn't like it when one fidgeted or didn't look her in the eyes.
"Come on then." said the Controller with a cynical sigh as she offered her arm to Artie.
With a blink they both vanished.
The room became once again a dim void (yes, i laughed at that description too) where dual natures duke it out for dominance. This time, there are no winners. Only a new Gerbil acceptance her own short comings.
________________________
(O.K. this isn't actually what he said but you get the point. What he actually said was, "It's like Voldermort and Harry Potter at the end of the last movie except the Writer Gerbil is using a pen for a wand and the Art Gerbil is using a pencil. As their powers collide, pictures and words spring forth from the center.)
I laughed. It was funny and then both my gerbils decided that they needed to make a comic of the scene. Which of course won't happen any time soon because the Writer Gerbil has locked the door and refuses to open it until she has that damn scene worked out and Artie is too busy looking at flowers.
**Disclaimer: This post, in no way, is a glimpse into how I write. This is just me messin' about til dinner time......unless of course you all think it's good, in which case, it is exactly how I write. **