Charles had to take a double look at his master. The usually pensive and undisturbed face was contorted in something that resembled a twisted and menacing…smile? Charles long thought that his master was unable to produce something as cheerful as a smile, but here it was. Both corners up, lips stretched in a bow. A perfect smile.
Good gracious was this the end of the world?
Tell us about a conversation you couldn’t help but overhear and wish you hadn’t.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us SECRET.
Memories are fleeting and whimsical creatures that can bounce aimlessly inside our skulls and clench our hearts in a painful twangs of reminisce.
As we recall the secrets that have been, willingly or not, bestowed upon us we discover a world of choices.
Should I know about this? Is it alright to hear this? Do I really need this knowledge?
Tell us about a time you found out after the fact that you’d been mistaken and you had to eat a serving of humble pie.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us REGRET.
I have a short temper, I am hot headed, I lack patience. My behaviour often is radical and irrational. More often than not I find myself regretting words that tumbled out of my mouth before I could think them through.
Life is too short to spend it on regret. Let’s fix the mistakes we made, let’s focus our efforts on mending things rather than empty regrets.
People are afraid of all kinds of things: spiders, the dark, or being enclosed in small spaces. Tell us about your greatest fear — rational or irrational.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us COURAGE.
Spiders, slimy, ugly, biting insects and other critters.
What happens when we are gone from this world. What happens to our consciousness. What happens with I, Ego, Me.
Are you good at what you do? What would you like to be better at.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us CONFIDENT.
I am proficient at what I do and quite happy with my work.
What I would like to work on is my personal writing and the time I can devote solely to creating new pieces and bits of universes. The characters keep hoping around, eager to finally find solace and fill the blank pages…
You get to choose one superpower. Pick one of these, and explain your choice:
Photographers, artists, poets: show us POWER.
It will be a selfish decision but I choose the second superpower – the ability to travel through time.
Somebody somewhere said that all the interesting people are dead. While I don’t completely agree with this opinion, I must say that there is something true in it. A list of famous and magnificent people that kong rest in the confines of the earth is long. The list of people with whom I would like to have a conversation for at least a few minutes is even longer.
However, I would not start with glamorous and bold, with famous and rich. No.
What I would really like to do is have a conversation, a heart to heart talk, a chat, with one (ideally with many) of my ancestors.
Just like that.
Share the story of a time you felt unsafe.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us SAFETY.
When you banged at my door I felt helpless.
I wept hidden underneath the covers of my fears.
I caught butterflies of dreams and moths of despair that flew around the tiny space of my universe.
I knew my presence was like a rotten splinter of wood pinching your side.
I was a mistake. A glitch on your otherwise perfect existence.