Spin me a tale
Feb. 27th, 2009 07:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
imomusI'm spending the day on ICE trains, getting from Berlin to Holland, then performing in the evening, wearing funny clothes and making stuff up.
I planned to give Click Opera a holiday today, but at the last minute I thought I'd post this photo and ask you, dear reader, to make stuff up yourself: a short (fifty words or so?) narrative related in some way to the picture.
I won't say anything at this stage about what the photo is, who took it, who's in it, where or why it came about. Think of it as a Rorschach onto which you can project whatever you like -- a rumination, a story about the characters, a joke, a piece of philosophising, a weather forecast, a sci-fi scenario, a haiku, a fashion report. Be creative, be kind, give me something interesting to read when my iPod crackles to life in the Dutch wifi!
I planned to give Click Opera a holiday today, but at the last minute I thought I'd post this photo and ask you, dear reader, to make stuff up yourself: a short (fifty words or so?) narrative related in some way to the picture.
I won't say anything at this stage about what the photo is, who took it, who's in it, where or why it came about. Think of it as a Rorschach onto which you can project whatever you like -- a rumination, a story about the characters, a joke, a piece of philosophising, a weather forecast, a sci-fi scenario, a haiku, a fashion report. Be creative, be kind, give me something interesting to read when my iPod crackles to life in the Dutch wifi!
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Date: 2009-02-28 02:58 am (UTC)The reindeer were always so soft. I liked their smell best though. The smell of their warmth and sweat after pulling the sleds was a musk my senses craved as I grew older and went away to school.
It’s funny what I missed.
Looking at this old photo brings me back to the smells and the feel of the raw wind tossing my hair around and the joy of tramping in those over-sized Wellingtons. Grass that’s gone brown in the cold and is soggy with melted snow takes on such a thick aroma that some days that was all I could experience: the smell of the wet, dead grass. It was a comforting smell. The smell of home, where the reindeer grazed and my siblings cavorted and the wind never stopped.