tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-94795202011-12-13T19:54:08.736-08:00Creativity WorksSarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.comBlogger211100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9479520.post-1119228848185669592005-06-19T17:45:00.000-07:002005-06-19T17:54:08.190-07:00

I used the word the other day, which I don't usually, and I thought a good exercise would be to define it:Different in a good way.Pushing the limits.A good chance at being "the new".Daring.Potentially awesome.Marketable; in a market by itself.Fresh/questionable.The kind of thing only the right person/behavior can pull off without getting totally hung out to dry.The zone every creative person

Sarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.com57tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9479520.post-1118908195271658392005-06-16T00:36:00.000-07:002005-06-16T00:49:55.276-07:00

They say that music tames the wild beast, but I have seen it enrage the tamed. I think that when they look back on my generation they will see that we had a penchant for "anger music". For a generation dubbed "apathetic" that tells you a thing or two. Think about how we were, teens pre-9/11, not able to conceptualize the strange state of the world. As a friend once said, "tamed, but not taken". I

Sarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9479520.post-1118809839812657162005-06-14T21:20:00.000-07:002005-06-14T21:32:37.360-07:00

Settled in, stretching out, like liquid I settle into the old mold, filling up the old familiar places.There is a beauty and simplicity to "home". Home can be anywhere, it is really just a feeling you carry with you, and for me that feeling is strongest here, for now.I was stretched out, balled up, grumpy and hot when I left Florida. Now I'm languid, soft, tense but not so unsmiling. Of course

Sarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9479520.post-1114526926147047632005-04-26T07:46:00.000-07:002005-04-26T07:48:46.146-07:00

Helter Skelter; Willy Nilly: Thoughts that these imply;Turn it over, wear it out, keep on asking why.

Sarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9479520.post-1114220343589520202005-04-22T18:23:00.000-07:002005-04-23T06:10:47.853-07:00

Sometimes, you set out on a dream, thinking you are wide awake. You know the feeling, perhaps it was even a bathroom dream a time or two. Certainly you've awaken knowing quite sure that you had gotten up, showered and gotten dressed, and yet, here you are, rumpled sweaty, quarter past nine.Maybe that's what this is.I'm afraid that's what it's going to feel like, when I wake up at home again.Some

Sarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9479520.post-1112819142558810312005-04-06T13:18:00.000-07:002005-04-09T20:44:47.806-07:00

I always thought that America was the most beautiful idea in the world. What it stands for, the foundations it was built upon, the great men who used reason and intellect to overcome the tyranny that darkens most if not all of history. "The land of the free and the home of the brave". Where are those men now, and what is being done to their legacy?After 9/11 I had to stop watching the news, in

Sarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9479520.post-1112202660937458662005-03-30T08:59:00.000-08:002005-03-30T09:20:36.200-08:00

Easter is the memory;then and now. Easter in spring and church on Sunday; a farmhouse, a white hat. A Billiards room downstairs, an organ in the anteroom. Morning. I used to paint your toenails. You always had plenty of TastyKakes on hand. The Butterscotch Krimpets were your favorite. After the heart attack you switched to Snackwells, you lost your lap, moved to an apartment. You loved treats,

Sarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9479520.post-1111432799928529262005-03-21T10:48:00.000-08:002005-03-21T12:02:17.260-08:00

In Florida, this is a whole different phenomenon. We are not defrosting here, as we have summer year round. Our winter is what the rest of country might consider Spring or Fall. It's our temperate time, our quiet time, when our home is ours. Spring Break is like a swarm of hornets. The heat makes a tangible wall outside your door. The traffic makes another. Tourists crowd the beaches, the roads,

Sarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9479520.post-1111178278098433352005-03-18T12:31:00.000-08:002005-03-18T12:37:58.106-08:00

----------- Confine me notin your selfish concentricities.I grow outward, not inward as you would wish. I will exceed you.All you thought you conqueredwill be but my baby garden, from which I feed. My strength I gather from all you knewyou had but could not follow through.I follow through and so I Master you. Is my lack of insecurity beginning to frighten you?It might well should.I'm gaining

Sarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9479520.post-1111080860898971982005-03-17T09:23:00.000-08:002005-03-17T09:34:20.900-08:00

They walked out of the woods holding hands, blinking against the sun. The forest cover had led to an expectation of twilight, and it was startling to see the light of full day. The sun warmed their exposed skin though and felt just as delicious as the dewy interior had been. They were fulled sated from the day's leisure and walked in easy strides back to his Honda Accord. There were still a

Sarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9479520.post-1110815076205940682005-03-14T07:04:00.000-08:002005-03-14T08:25:50.940-08:00

I am two years old with pigtails and it's hard to run with this diaper on. But there are crabs, oh CRABS! and they are going to pinch me. Daddy pulled the big cage out of the water and set them after me, he's so silly. The grassy hill is hard to run up and I fall back on my bum. But here Mommy comes and I'm up and safe away from the the nasty buggy things.I am four and in the kitchen with my

Sarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9479520.post-1109912010842485572005-03-03T20:45:00.000-08:002005-03-18T12:38:39.453-08:00

Some were drunk, or on psychedelic drugsalways in a sea of ciggarette smokedelirious, worshipping beerwanting to approach the power of deathelaborate experimenting to capture a momentto have a sense of life fully freeand of death in the mad empty after-trip. ----[Emile was not insensitive per se. She was however, what one might call self-absorbed. It was ironic, considering she mostly placed her

Sarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9479520.post-1108674801429982352005-02-17T12:45:00.000-08:002005-02-17T13:15:57.986-08:00

There was no excuses this time. She was tired and out of excuses. It seemed everyone had one, and she didn't have the energy to even attempt it, and so she ended up with the blame.Meagan had never been very good in these situations. She was a bundle of energy at work and play that was practically unstoppable, but come the finger pointing and the game playing politics of work and friendship, she

Sarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9479520.post-1107989684838747132005-02-09T14:47:00.000-08:002005-02-10T11:41:16.336-08:00

She started out running. It was a good pace, her body felt strong and she purposefully flung her ponytail from side to side with each step, enjoying the feel of bounce. Then the air started to crystalize in her lungs, and she remembered that it was January. She slowed to a light jog, cheeks and nose turning pink with white spots of beginner frost bite. She had gone about a mile, when she had to

Sarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9479520.post-1107814746328151542005-02-07T14:09:00.000-08:002005-02-07T14:19:06.326-08:00

Trina Robertson balanced a ciggarette in one corner of her mouth, squinting her eyes against the smoke. With one hand she was stirring the contents of a small pot on the stove, and with the other she held her glass of red wine, tilted, and she swayed slightly. In the pot was the contents of what frozen vegetarian packages had been left crusting in her freezer for the past month. Nothing else

Sarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9479520.post-1104867294394441972005-01-04T11:34:00.000-08:002005-02-08T08:33:27.870-08:00

She sat uncomfortably in this house, which was one like in the television shows her mother frowned upon. The prime time sitcoms with families just like this one, except on TV they were always funny. This was just scary. She sat at the table which was a white linoleum card table with metal trim, like one would find at a diner only taller. The chairs too reminded her of a pizza hut or a buffet;

Sarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9479520.post-1104867206774974162005-01-04T11:31:00.000-08:002005-02-08T15:03:49.413-08:00

The heat was unbearable, and a woman walked by too close. "This is my sidewalk square", she hissed internally, "This is my smoke break". She imagined herself inside of her ciggarette; inhaled, exhaled, dissipating. Flowers were being delivered to the boutique on one corner, and signs erected on another. "It is because I observe it", she whispered, squinting her eyes, attempting to measure. The

Sarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9479520.post-1104867056237585432005-01-04T11:28:00.000-08:002005-02-08T08:37:32.450-08:00

When the boy was very young, he loved to make up games. He could think up fantastic worlds and creatures in his mind and could occupy himself for hours in his own imagination. This was pleasing for the parents because it left them free to go about their work without the need to constantly be entertaining him. He would work out elaborate stories and play through them. His favorite companions were

Sarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9479520.post-1104866849966662852005-01-04T11:26:00.000-08:002005-02-08T08:39:07.063-08:00

The residents of Geirstemajer had one more year, before the ship would return them to their families to live out their final years in peace and quiet. They had tolied diligently for the past 150 years on board, perfecting probing methods and a new "non-invasive" invasion for the "body snatchers". They built smaller and smaller ships until they could launch their Humanauts right into the inner ear

Sarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9479520.post-1104789712373048142005-01-03T14:01:00.000-08:002005-02-08T08:43:13.230-08:00

Somewhere in the third act, it lost all of it’s meaning. There was just no point in watching anymore. No point in getting up disturbing everyone though either, she couldn’t very well go anywhere until the show was over. He wasn’t going to want to leave now, he seemed to still be entertained, and why shouldn’t he be. Still she felt suddenly stifled in there, knees pressed to stranger’s knees,

Sarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9479520.post-1104789427802717832005-01-03T13:56:00.000-08:002005-02-08T08:44:52.646-08:00

Emile Jacobson woke up rank. She was twisted in the bed sheets and an unknown body lay buried beside her. The air was acrid and ashtrays lay overfilling on dressers, night tables; beer bottles, empty and full, some with ciggarette butts floating; half sucked blow-pops, wrapper still on, stuck to the dresser; brightly colored children's toys strewn obscenely through the wreckage, a mix with condom

Sarah Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03244279801435007087noreply@blogger.com1