Willowtrix; Reason to Dream

The sun sank low over the little village of Tree Garden. Willowtrix flew down the forest path a little lower than normal.

Today sucked.

He couldn’t shake the bitter self doubt that weighed his wings. It had been just another day working the Apple Orchard. Another day picking apples with his best friend, Vinifree. Yet, the only conversation today was Egriton’s open managing position. While they were picking, at the spring where the workers took their break, and during lunch. All anyone–especially Vinifree–could talk about was the open position. Vinifree interviewed for it, and rumor was she was the only one that wanted it. She’s gonna get it, Willowtrix told himself. It’s her dream job, why wouldn’t she get it? When they were kids, Vinifree always got distracted when they got close to the orchard. The adventures they went on were always cut short because she would rather stare at the orchard instead of chase down imaginary bandits.

Willowtrix slumped. “I’m happy for her. I really am.” Yet, the weight on his wings wouldn’t go away. Vinifree found her calling. She was following her passion, but him?

The solid shoulder of a burly faun knocked Willowtrix off his flight path. He let out a grunt and flexed his wings to catch himself in the air. When he looked up at who he hit, he flinched.

Lunber the lumberjack and oldest son of the village elder scowled down at Willowtrix. He crossed his furry arms and a sigh as rough as tree bark escaped his throat. “Willowtrix, don’t tell me you’re flying around in a daydream again. You fairies can fly anywhere and yet you choose to fly at the height of us fauns?”

Willowtrix brushed his brown hair behind his ear. A pit opened in his stomach and increased the weight on his wings. “S-sorry, I was…I was, uh…lost in thought.”

Lunbar stuck his square jaw up in the air. “Not with one of those ridiculous stories of yours, I hope. Don’t you realize there’s no profit in that? I was told about the open position at the orchard. You should go for it. The extra coin would help your mother.”

Willowtrix pulled his gaze downward. The pit in his stomach hardened over. I’m so sick of hearing about that position. Yet, he swallowed down his bitterness. “Vinifree is going for it. I…I wouldn’t want to upset her by going for it too.” It was an easy lie. One that worked well on everyone at the orchard, but Lunbar’s deepening scowl told Willowtrix the faun didn’t believe him.

“You can’t chase some silly dream about telling stories. If you think that’s what supported Alderheart through the years, you’re wrong. Stop chasing fantasties and grow some sense. You’ve got a good job at the orchard. You can grow there and get the coin to get your mother the help she needs. When are you going to see that?”

Willowtrix couldn’t look Lunbar in the eye. A knot twisted in his heart. Anger burned within him, but guilt threatened to drown him. Lunbar was making the same point as every other resident of Tree Garden. Willowtrix tightened his fists. “I have to go.” He darted around Lunbar and flew off down the path to hide the tears betrayed in his eyes. Lunbar didn’t say anything, but Willowtrix heard his disappointed sigh.

He made it to the tree knot he called home as fast as he could. It was a humble little place on the outskirts of the village. No fauns lived below them, but a few other fairy families lived a couple trees away. It was nice and quiet. What Willowtrix’s mother needed.

Willowtrix leaned against the door after entering his home. The cozy and warm hollow didn’t bring the same sense of peace he usually felt when coming home. It’s all that talk, Willowtrix told himself. Of Vinifree achieving her dream.

“Willowtrix?” A weak cough came from the bedroom. “Is that you?”

Willowtrix quieted at the sound of his mother’s voice. She sounds weaker than this morning. He took a moment to let out a sorrowful sigh before masking his face with a smile. Willowtrix fluttered over the front room furniture and landed promptly in the doorway to the bedroom. “Mother,” he smiled at her. “How was your day?”

The beige light that illuminated from his mother brightened when she spotted him. She laid on her side in the bed, one arm resting under her head and her other weakly reached for him. Rings sunk under her eyes from an illness no one could explain. Willowtrix’s heart cracked at her motion and he walked over to kneel beside the bed. “Are you feeling any better?”

“The pain lessens when you’re here.” She cupped his cheek and love replaced the woe in her eyes. “Did you have a good day? Tell me, has Vinifree gotten the position yet?”

Willowtrix laid his hand on hers. “They haven’t announced anything. I think they’re waiting for the right time. There’s a new rumor we might strike a deal with a shop in Flora to sell our apples there too.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Flora? Already? Didn’t the orchard already strike a deal with a shop in Dira?”

Willowtrix nodded. “Last year and Dira’s a bigger city. I think the orchard owners want to make the announcement for the position when they strike a deal with Flora. That way, there’s lots of good news going around.” Willowtrix shrugged. “I know they’ll pick Vinifree.”

“She deserves it.” His mother adjusted so she sat up further. “That girl loves the orchard. No one else will take care of it better.”

Willowtrix absently nodded. “I’m happy for her.”

“My son.” A sterner tone crossed his mother’s voice. Willowtrix flicked his wings when he met her knowing look. “Your eyes tell me something’s bothering you. What is it?”

Willowtrix sighed. As much as he tried to be strong for her, she could always see right through him. He shifted and leaned against the bed, taking her hand. “I ran into Lunbar.”

She huffed. “That thickheaded brute? What did he say this time? That you should have gone for the position? Pish posh. That faun doesn’t know how to see beyond his own eyesight.”

Willowtrix glanced away. “He had a point, though. If I got the position, I could better care for you.”

“Now, you listen to me, Willowtrix. You weren’t put on this world to look after me. I’ll be–” She cut off with a coughing fit.

Willowtrix helped her sit up then fetched a glass of water. “I need to look after you.” He helped place the glass down once her breathing eased. “What will I have if I don’t have you?”

“You’ll have your stories.” She smiled softly and pointed right at his chest. “And your dream. You’ve got such a wonderful talent, Willowtrix. It makes you happy and that’s all I want for you.”

Willowtrix shook his head. He sat down on the bed beside her. “It’s not practical.”

“So what?” She squeezed his hand. “Better to be rich in heart than rich in hand.” When Willowtrix smiled she slunk down into the blankets of the bed. “Tell me one of your stories.”

Willowtrix rubbed the back of his head, his wings fluttering. “I dunno.”

“Come now,” she teased. “You can’t tell me you don’t have a new one you want to try out. Who better to tell it to than me?”

Willowtrix chuckled. He pulled his legs on the bed to sit cross-legged. She used to be the one telling him stories. He was all tucked in bed and ready to hear her next adventure. There was nothing more calming than their glow warming the darkening night. “Alright, then.” He took a deep breath and his lips stretched to a smile at the thought of telling his newest tale. “Once upon a time…”

Never Ending Argument

When doubt says I’m not good enough,
I remind it of what I accomplished.

When grief weighs like iron on my heart,
I remind it I’m never alone.

When gossip tries to break my trust,
I remember how much we need grace.

When mistakes say I can’t be redeemed,
I tell it each day is new.

When anger busts down the door,
I take a breath to block it from others.

When stress piles on the tasks,
I take it a step at a time.

When worry whistles like the wind,
I whisper it’ll be alright.

When fraud tells me I’m a fake,
I remind it that passion’s enough.

When anxiety creeps up the alley,
I hold a hand to confidence again.

Whenever I get down and life gets hard,
I remember this isn’t the end.

If you’re like me, you’re haunted by a lot of shadows that stalk around every corner. Each one ready to hit you with depression and knock you down to ruin your stride. It’s goal is to get in your head. To keep you down so you can’t do any good for those around you or follow the purpose planned for you. You can’t let it win. You have to fight back with all you have because the world would be duller without you.

You’re not alone
You’re not a mistake
You’re strong
You’re capable
You’ve got a beauty unique to you
Don’t ever give up or give in to the Dark
Keep shining and learn to love you

Oreo’s Poem

If love kept you alive,
you would live forever.
I’m not ready to say goodbye.
Not now, not ever.

If I had my say.
You wouldn’t go away.
You’d stay healthy and strong.
And be right where you belong.

You wouldn’t get leaky.
You wouldn’t get creaky.
You wouldn’t grow gray.
Or start welcoming the grave.

We’d have many more cuddles.
And lots more nose nuzzles.
I’d hold you at night.
And we’d both sleep tight.

No cat in the world is better than you.
You were always there whenever I was blue.

Eighteen years.
A blessing every one.
Even those nights you were yowling before the sun.

Such adventures. Such scents. What a life that you had.
And I’ve got thousands of pictures–I might add.
Eighteen years. You got to do so much.
Hunt birds, explore woods, and come to accept touch.

You’ll never read this poem.
You don’t understand most words.
You understand actions, motions, and purrs.

But I hope that you know.
Before you finally go.
How much I truly love you so.

My love, my Wildheart, my precious putty tat.
You’re the best cat there is.
And that’s that.

I Often Wonder

Do animals feel love?
Could a pet ever tell you?
Do they truly want to be around you?

Are we more to them
Than fresh food and shelter
It’s this question I often wonder

Can a dog show love?
Or a cat appreciation?
Do they know you love them?
And hold admiration?

What’s at their end?
Our pets, I mean.
A journey to heaven?
Adrift? Set free?

I wish I could know
If I’ll see them when I go
To the end of that rainbow road

To love an animal so much
Your heart breaks at their absence
To see them again and all their old habits

I often wonder to think
Where they go when they’re gone
Especially when I’m not ready to move on

But for now, hold tight
Hope they know they’re loved
Cuddle them at night
Because they’re gifts from above

The Forest

Have you ever looked up through the trees

And saw the way the light dapples off the leaves?

Have you ever been out on a stroll

And felt the breeze as a gentle roll?

A forest path. It’s own magic world.

With glimmering pebbles shining like pearls.

The towering trees. So sturdy and strong.

Standing like castles that came from songs.

A trickling creek or river running through.

Bringing with it life. Making everything new.

Let’s not forget the critters in store.

Running along that old forest floor.

Squirrels and chipmunks. A prancing doe.

And turkeys that gobble wherever they go.

Such life in a forest. Such beauty to see.

As long as you try it. Find peace. Maybe glee?

Whatever the time. Whatever the adventure.

The forest is there to help us remember.

Each part of life. Beginning to end.

Has a way to come around again.

Saplings from decay. Leaf litter as a nest.

The forest knows “waste not” is best.

I hope you’ll take time. One day or another.

To come see the forest like you’re visiting your brother.

Come see the leaves as they dapple above.

Come see how a forest shows love.

Beauty in the Damage

I was scrolling through the photos on my computer the other night and I came across the one you see featured in this post. I took that photo in college. This photo is a of a little 2″x2″ metal square I was to use in a lab experiment for one of my classes. I don’t remember anything about the lab. I can’t even tell you what class this was for. I don’t know what type of metal this square was made out of. I just know, this little square was involved and I was absolutely in love with it.

What’s on the square is rust. It’s damaged–and rightly so with all the experiments it went through. It’s probably not worth anything. If it wasn’t used for this experiment, it would likely get thrown away. Yet, I placed high value on it. Why?

Because of the damage.

Take a look to really view the photo. Look at the way the damage is patterned out. They almost look like stars in a cosmic cloud or cells bumping into each other or even flowers growing in a field. They’re messy and tangled and the hues of reddish-brown span the spectrum. You can’t see it from the photo, but when I shifted the way light hit that metal square, it came alive. The silver lining in the rust spots amplified the damage like beams of magic bursting forth. I saved these photos because I wanted to replicate the pattern in a painting. I haven’t done it yet, but someday, I will.

If you put this damaged square next to a shiny new one, one that is perfect and reflective, and bright, I would still pick the damaged one. It has character. It has a story. It’s been through some things and it’s still strong.

So, if you’re ever feeling damaged or covered in rust, I hope you’ll remember this little square. There’s beauty there even if you can’t see it.

Believe in the Villain

I was laying in bed the other night, thinking of a new story idea and it got me wondering about heroes versus villains. If we all had a choice, we’d want to be the hero. I mean, we grow up used to it, right? Everyone wants to be the hero. The hero is liked. The hero saves the day. The hero always wins, and the villain? They lose. They’re defeated.

But what’s a story without a good villain? Whether it’s a tangible villain for your hero to defeat or an intangible villain for your hero to overcome, a good story has a villain, conflict, trials, and struggle.

Without the villain, the hero can’t be a hero. We may hate villains for the awful things they do, but without that evil, the good of your hero can’t shine through. The villain teaches us lessons that the hero can’t do on his own. If the villain decimates a town, the hero can step in with compassion for the townfolk. If the villain hoards food out of greed, the hero can show the importance of sharing. The villain helps highlight the wrong so the right of the hero can be amplified.

Honestly, I don’t think villains get a lot of credit. I’ve gone through some stories where the villain’s motives aren’t highlighted. The terrible things they do is highlighted, but their story or reasons for their terrible actions isn’t.

In writing, you have to think of your villain as the hero of their own story, because they don’t see themselves as a villain. But something else you can ask is “what do they teach?” What “evil” trait are you trying to portray to your readers to warn them not to follow that path? That’s what villains do, isn’t it? Show us what paths to not take. Path of bitterness. Path of vengeance or rage.

I titled this post Believe in the Villain because I believe in the purpose of the villain. They’re just as important to stories as your hero is. I hope, moving forward, you’ll see that too.

So, believe in the villain. They may be flawed, evil, scary, or do wicked things, but without them, you’ve got no story.

Because Then it Ends

Have you ever been invested in a story that really brings out your wonder or makes you think about all the possibilities involved with it? How it could turn out or what plot twists might be in store?

Several months ago, a new video game came out. It’s called The Legend of Zelda; Tears of the Kingdom. If you don’t know by now, I’m a huge Zelda fan. I got the game around the time it came out, but to be honest, I’m not very far. It’s a huge game. Bigger than it’s predecessor. There’s a lot to do and explore that it’s super easy to get distracted away from the storyline. For those of you who’ve played, I’m only three memories in and only saved the Rito from the blizzard that ails them. So, please keep in mind of spoilers when writing comments.

I really want to continue the story. I want to see how the game turns out, what hidden gems are in the memories and how they develop character relationships further. Not to mention all the plights that ail the different races in the game. Yet, while I really want to know what’s going on and how things turn out. I’m almost scared to continue. Why?

Because I don’t want it to end.

Ending a story, whether a video game, a book, a TV series, or other is so satisfying and yet, so empty. Once it’s done. It’s done. There’s nothing there to continue it except your theories and fantasies on how it all turned out. There’s no more wonder or anticipation. No unanswered questions or carrots to keep hooked on it. You’ve been released. The ride’s over.

The process makes me think about a conversation I heard in a different video game I played. The game’s called Dragon Age; Inquisition, and while you’re exploring two of your companions are having a conversation:

  • Blackwall: Right, how’s it end?
  • Sera: What? That tavern tale?
  • Blackwall: Come on! You left off elbow deep in… circumstances. That can’t be it.
  • Sera: That wasn’t her name, but yeah, that’s as far as the story ever gets. Why are you complaining?
  • Blackwall: Because I can’t stop thinking about it. I need to know the end!
  • Sera: Why would you want to stop? The whole point of the good bit is thinking about the good bit. If i tell the end, it ends!

I remember hearing that conversation, and you know what? Sera’s right. Once you wrap up a story it’s over and you’ve no more reason to really think on it. All the cliffhangers and possibilities keep you energized and engaged even when you’re not actively pursuing the end of the story. Saves you from the sometimes daunting hunt of finding a new story to get invested in to.

One of these days, I’ll eventually finish Tears of the Kingdom and move on to the next story. Be it mine or someone else’s. But, for now, I’m going to enjoy the anticipation just a little bit longer.

I hope when you find a good story, you savor every minute of it too.

Let Yourself Rest

Laying in bed

Thinking of too many things

Bunch of thoughts in my head

Of what the days may bring

Need to do this

Forgot to do that

Find a moment of bliss

Like a rabbit in a hat

Take a moment to sit

And puzzle out thoughts

Am I a good fit?

Or is it all for not?

Then your future self might see you with hate

As you had to get up early

And you stayed up late

Thinking of stories

Thinking of work

Thinking of what to write

And what doesn’t hurt

The days are long

Hot and sticky

But you push on

Your dreams are quite picky

And when the day ends

You’re too tired to sleep

Something comes around the bend

A promise you must keep

You tire it out

Get something that’ll do

Hope no one will shout

That it’s a fraud to

Take a deep breath

You’re doing your best

The promise was kept

So, now to get some rest

Don’t wait any longer

Your future self will feel it

Each moment makes you stronger

So, go on and believe it

Spire in the Distance

Driving around this week, I had the cool opportunity to drive down a hillside. In the distance, surrounded by a bunch of trees, was this tall spiral building. It gleamed in the sunlight and wrapped up toward the sky like it was pointing the way forward. My drawing doesn’t do the building justice, but it was really cool to see.

Likely, the building was a church. Not sure what kind of church, but based on what I’ve seen, it’s highly probable that it’s a church. As a lover of fantasy, when I saw that spire, I had a million things going through my mind on what else it could be.

Maybe it was an elvish structure? Some sort of building housing a mythical stone of light or stone of the forest? Maybe it’s a building dedicated to guardians of the land? Or a temple determined to help adventurers find their way? Maybe it’s a weapon pointing straight toward the stars, prepared to defend the planet? Or a research facility that seeks out new life and accidentally invites aliens to take over the Earth? Maybe it’s a palace? Home to a king and queen that rule justly over their land? Perhaps it’s a school? Dedicated to teaching mystic arts or magic?

My imagination brewed every time I passed that spire in the distance. It made me want to seek out other hillsides and search the horizons for any other structures that would spur the wonders of fantasy. Have you ever seen anything that does that for you? Spotted a building, structure, or landmass in the distance that encourages you to ponder what it could be? Maybe you seek the most logical explanation first? Call the spire a church and move on?

I dare you to poke into your imagination the next time you see something different on the horizon. You never know what adventure you could concoct.