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Christine Chrisman

Writer & Artist

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Adoration

Adoration

Posted on May 18, 2017 in Blog | 0 comments

I’ve been working on a project with a friend, he shoots and I write….This is an excerpt from the poem I wrote a tiny fire flickering flame of devotion dancing beneath my fingers lighting the darkness delicate and fine   skin stretching knitting over bone a prayer a spell a charm bringing form to that which is formless to that which...

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Dream Storyline

Dream Storyline

Posted on Feb 22, 2017 in Blog | 0 comments

A tiger sleeps in a patch of snow on the edge of the ocean. Beside its large shape lay a battle axe and a long sword both gold. The sword and axe sink, the snow melting around them. Leaving only negatives they sink into the earth and are gone. The tiger wakes, lifting is large head, scanning the area. It stretches and leaving the battle shapes in the snow, prowls the shoreline. A menacing sharp prow’d pirates ship mirrors it’s movements north. Horns sound from the deck in warning. “Well a fully armed battle mech didn’t...

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Make Space

Make Space

Posted on Feb 8, 2017 in Blog | 0 comments

I just finished Steven King’s book On Writing.  It’s compelling as a personal tale, a memoir, but also a clear picture of what works for him.  Plus you get his kind, wry voice throughout, which is sweet. He echoes much of what I’ve heard from other writers and artists.  Which is: MAKE SPACE! Make space, mental and physical for your ideas/muse/inspiration. If you don’t, they may come, but if you make space you are far more likely to be ready to hear the idea and catch it.  Now of course you may make space and the...

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Losing Touch

Losing Touch

Holding on or Letting go

Posted on Jan 13, 2017 in Blog | 0 comments

So last June I took a part time job, I know this is the right path for me. I couldn’t have predicted that, logically I didn’t want that, but intuitively it was the right thing to do. I could feel that very strongly. So I knew that I would have to back off my narrative, my hold on the storyline was tenuous even when working on it 2-4 days a week with an editor. Since then my editor dropped off due to health issues and I’ve started working, so now my story line is like a tiny broken thread and I am looking for it without...

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Songs and Cars

Songs and Cars

Posted on May 3, 2016 in Blog | 0 comments

The first car I remember driving in is a 1970’s blue MG convertible with a tonneau cover in black. I don’t remember any songs from that car. Just the heat of the black top. The leather wrapped steering wheel. I thought it would be my first car, cause I could already reach the pedals and see over the dash. When Dad sold it for a long red Ford LTD I was crushed. I felt betrayed. The LTD was so big I could lay down across the whole back seat without my feet touching the arm rest on the passenger door. The night flowing by outside,...

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Summer Memories

Summer Memories

Posted on Jan 25, 2016 in Blog | 0 comments

The clouds spun lazy over head, moving like slow sweet cream. Blowing west to east away from the sun and heading towards Mt. Lassen, twice faded into the background blue. Her butt was wet, black bottoms dark with the pond water that flowed in when her weight pressed down on the bright plastic raft. Half wet, half dry was the way one made it through the heat of the day. It could easily surpass 104 in the mid afternoon. So she floated in the pond all day. Rolling off to dive into the dark cool depths where the frogs must hide during the day....

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The Black Overcoat

Posted on Dec 29, 2015 in Blog | 0 comments

She came rushing up to the coffee house tables clicking boot heels on cobble stones  and a black overcoat like wings. “Be a good chap and piss off, won’t you?” She put her hand on the metal chair back as if to help him out. He looked startled. The woman across from him covered her smile with a pale square hand.  She wouldn’t bring her blue eyes up to meet his. Black overcoat shook the back of his chair. “No really, piss off.” He stood up completely flummoxed. Such a nice looking man too, in a navy cashmere sweater and dark jeans...

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Friendship lights it up

Friendship lights it up

Posted on Dec 4, 2015 in Blog | 0 comments

In various astrology posts that I follow it seems that super negative energy flowers through our reality. We can see it, the acts of terrorism that pop up everywhere…in the debate on whether to take in refugees and open our hearts and lands to help or the fear that causes us to say shut the boarders, no one else!! We’ll be safe, turn them away!…. It’s happening world wide it seems, muslim world, easter world, western world. The crazy is alive and well. I was talking to my friend about this, and realized that I had felt...

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For Christopher

Posted on Nov 8, 2015 in Blog | 0 comments

She felt limp, like a wrung out sponge smelling of mildew. Slightly nauseated. But surprisingly together. She sat, knees curled to one side in the corner of the charcoal velvet couch, fingers tracing the ring where someone had set a hot cup of tea. She leaned her head on the crook of her elbow and closed her eyes. It was halloween and thank goodness a neighbor was hosting the annual gathering of the little ghouls and ghosts. She had thought she could do it. Wanted to in fact. It was her favorite thing they did with the neighbors. But her...

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Falling into darkness

Falling into darkness

Posted on Oct 25, 2015 in Blog | 0 comments

Stem smooth and pliable, the fabric of leaf body stretched between veins of red. It catches on the ridges of my fingers and with my eyes closed I think I could dive into this. Dive deep into the meeting of my flesh with the flesh of the tree. Deep into the pulse which is faded but I still feel. Bump bump a rhythm faint a ghost of an impression, pressing against the pulse of my fingertips traveling up the tiny capillaries into the veins into arteries to heart and whoosh back around again. It carries the thought of the tree itself, root and...

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