Written By Denica
Nov. 26, 2021, 7:09 p.m.(8/21/1016 AR)
There is so much blood red paint everywhere, my studio looks like a murder scene. Again.
Written By Denica
Nov. 26, 2021, 2:15 a.m.(8/19/1016 AR)
Relationship Note on Alarissa
Cousin, She appreciates colour and brings something much needed.
Written By Denica
Nov. 21, 2021, 9:22 p.m.(8/11/1016 AR)
Relationship Note on Martino
That was devious. Well played.
Now what to do with a boatload of little troublemakers?
The possibilities are endless!
I'm going to need more paint...
Now what to do with a boatload of little troublemakers?
The possibilities are endless!
I'm going to need more paint...
Written By Denica
Nov. 14, 2021, 7:09 p.m.(7/25/1016 AR)
Sometimes the best strategy involves a well placed joke. There are many things which are not a laughing matter. That said, we should never take ourselves too seriously. Perspective has a sense of humour.
Written By Denica
Nov. 7, 2021, 5:52 p.m.(7/11/1016 AR)
Relationship Note on Jasher
Dear Scholar,
This week my cousin Jasher, whom I am so very pleased to get a chance to know better, told me the best joke, ever! It is so good, I still laugh when I think about it. I've been laughing to myself all week, much to the frustration of my staff. I warn you, though, you might want to brace yourself before reading any further. It really is that good. I am even laughing now, as I prepare to write it down.
Okay. You've been warned.
Why should you never trust an artist?
Because they are sketchy and will frame you!
This week my cousin Jasher, whom I am so very pleased to get a chance to know better, told me the best joke, ever! It is so good, I still laugh when I think about it. I've been laughing to myself all week, much to the frustration of my staff. I warn you, though, you might want to brace yourself before reading any further. It really is that good. I am even laughing now, as I prepare to write it down.
Okay. You've been warned.
Why should you never trust an artist?
Because they are sketchy and will frame you!
Written By Denica
Oct. 31, 2021, 1:36 a.m.(6/23/1016 AR)
How do you capture the eye of the storm? The calm. That sense of clarity. Is it a blank page? Is it nothing but shadow? Is it colours swirling together all at once? I can feel it. The smudges. My fingertips. A splatter of rain and the howl of the wind. Parchment is tricky when wet. Bring extra brushes. Maybe a bucket.
Written By Denica
Oct. 24, 2021, 12:01 p.m.(6/10/1016 AR)
Relationship Note on Thea
Agreed. Failure is the precursor to innovation. If we don't stumble we might never know how strong we are. It is growth. Success is not born from perfection, but the ability to fail fast and always keep learning. I admire your tenacity and bravery, my dear friend.
Written By Denica
Oct. 23, 2021, 2:38 p.m.(6/8/1016 AR)
When everything falls apart, danger is inevitable and your plans lay scattered at your feet. That’s the perfect time to dance.
Written By Denica
Oct. 17, 2021, 9:10 p.m.(5/25/1016 AR)
Do not mistake my kindness for weakness. It cuts like a knife.
Written By Denica
Oct. 17, 2021, 2:04 a.m.(5/23/1016 AR)
I love the unexpected. I love the little details that re-write a story.
Tonight as I plunged feet first into the Bay of Thrax, I realized another year for me has past!
And what a year it's been. (smudge)
I danced. I laughed. I cried. I raged. I ran. I climbed. I fought. I fell. I was me.
I learnt that there's always someone. Someone to smile on a sad day. A ray of sun in a storm. That calm. That thing worth fighting for.
But sometimes the storms are the best part. Wind in my hair. That's art.
It's not all sunshine and roses. It's the hard times that draw those beautiful lines across our faces. It's the hurt that forces us to grow. To walk through the fire and see who we are. To live is truth.
So, another year coming. No sense in asking for anything more or less than what I deserve.
Tonight as I plunged feet first into the Bay of Thrax, I realized another year for me has past!
And what a year it's been. (smudge)
I danced. I laughed. I cried. I raged. I ran. I climbed. I fought. I fell. I was me.
I learnt that there's always someone. Someone to smile on a sad day. A ray of sun in a storm. That calm. That thing worth fighting for.
But sometimes the storms are the best part. Wind in my hair. That's art.
It's not all sunshine and roses. It's the hard times that draw those beautiful lines across our faces. It's the hurt that forces us to grow. To walk through the fire and see who we are. To live is truth.
So, another year coming. No sense in asking for anything more or less than what I deserve.
Written By Denica
Oct. 10, 2021, 3:06 p.m.(5/11/1016 AR)
Sometimes when you aren't in a festive mood, it's exactly the right time for a party!
Lady Laurent didn't disappoint. Always a gracious and lovely hostess, she left us with all sorts of unexpected information (and cake).
I especially had fun making jokes with my cousins Jasher and Romulius, and I even tied for first place in the trivia contest.
Now, to put some of this knowledge to use to continue tormenting my dinner guests.
Lady Laurent didn't disappoint. Always a gracious and lovely hostess, she left us with all sorts of unexpected information (and cake).
I especially had fun making jokes with my cousins Jasher and Romulius, and I even tied for first place in the trivia contest.
Now, to put some of this knowledge to use to continue tormenting my dinner guests.
Written By Denica
Sept. 25, 2021, 11:10 p.m.(4/9/1016 AR)
I suppose I should write something profound but I fear, Scholar, I’ve had far too much rum and I have things to do.
The people I love, should know it. And if they don’t? There isn’t much I can say. Love is not in the words we speak but in the absence of them.
Love is a look. It’s a memory. A brush stroke. It is plans for the future. The belief in another. It is the air we breath and the tears that never come. It’s misbehaving; it’s laughing at the sky and screaming at the sea. A beautiful flower, the cut of a blade and drinks at dawn. It is everything.
It’s a pleasure painting you.
The people I love, should know it. And if they don’t? There isn’t much I can say. Love is not in the words we speak but in the absence of them.
Love is a look. It’s a memory. A brush stroke. It is plans for the future. The belief in another. It is the air we breath and the tears that never come. It’s misbehaving; it’s laughing at the sky and screaming at the sea. A beautiful flower, the cut of a blade and drinks at dawn. It is everything.
It’s a pleasure painting you.
Written By Denica
Sept. 19, 2021, 6:28 p.m.(3/25/1016 AR)
I think I said too much, but I am not quick to apologize. What thoughts circle around in your heads? I could lose myself in them, so easy. You know I'll show everyone. It's all too beautiful to pass up.
Written By Denica
Sept. 12, 2021, 10:11 p.m.(3/11/1016 AR)
I've been searching for trouble, but trouble finds me.
Written By Denica
Sept. 4, 2021, 3:29 p.m.(2/23/1016 AR)
It's been an interesting week.... I keep finding pieces of clay in my hair and glass on my studio floor.
I fear neither will ever truly be gone, but I suppose that's okay, everything comes and goes.
You and I both know, that a dancer's feet will never stand too long in one place. Gotta spin, spin, spin.
So what do we do now? There are colours dripping from the walls, and I'll dip my fingers in soon.
One more painting, one more piece of canvas to wrap around myself, one more night lost to the dawn.
Can we ever forget the things we try not to remember? This list gets longer. Black ink stains.
Relentless.
I fear neither will ever truly be gone, but I suppose that's okay, everything comes and goes.
You and I both know, that a dancer's feet will never stand too long in one place. Gotta spin, spin, spin.
So what do we do now? There are colours dripping from the walls, and I'll dip my fingers in soon.
One more painting, one more piece of canvas to wrap around myself, one more night lost to the dawn.
Can we ever forget the things we try not to remember? This list gets longer. Black ink stains.
Relentless.
Written By Denica
Sept. 4, 2021, 3:17 p.m.(2/23/1016 AR)
Relationship Note on Mabelle
I cannot help it if you inspire me, Lady Mabelle.
But yes, a valid warning.
But yes, a valid warning.
Written By Denica
Aug. 29, 2021, 4:21 p.m.(2/11/1016 AR)
A cracked vase has a story, a torn page is a mystery. I enjoy reading what is written between the lines. That's where the interesting bits can be found.
(most of the page is a mess of ink smears, drops and blotches, with words lost underneath.)
(most of the page is a mess of ink smears, drops and blotches, with words lost underneath.)
Written By Denica
Aug. 15, 2021, 10:23 p.m.(1/11/1016 AR)
You look like a yellow.
Today I am green.
Yesterday I was red.
Tomorrow, it's the whole rainbow.
(The page is drenches with a myriad of paint splashes, in every colour, enough that it has soaked the parchment, making waves.)
Today I am green.
Yesterday I was red.
Tomorrow, it's the whole rainbow.
(The page is drenches with a myriad of paint splashes, in every colour, enough that it has soaked the parchment, making waves.)
Written By Denica
Aug. 6, 2021, 1:49 a.m.(12/20/1015 AR)
You can swim through an endless sea of self, only to find your backbone has sprung a leak.
Written By Denica
July 31, 2021, 1:49 a.m.(12/8/1015 AR)
Be bold. Be strong. Be you.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.