Happy first day of summer, everyone!
To celebrate the summer solstice, I am holding a contest dedicated to each member's unique meaning of "summer." Maybe to you, summer means hanging by the pool and getting a tan. Maybe it means spending time home with family, or sleeping as much as humanly possible. Just capture your own personal meaning of "summer," and enter it here!
There are a number of different mediums you can use for this contest! - Photograph - Drawing - Poem - Short Story - Song - Video - Collage (If you would like to do something that is not on this list, post it here or PM me. I'm sure we can figure something out!)
The judges for this contest are: - Seravee - nyn - br0conut - Neon Black - Ilovedan098 (All of our judge positions are currently filled!)
There will be two winners. Current prizes: 1st: - 2880 points 2nd: - 1420 points
Some last minute house rules: - Only one entry per person, but you may edit your entry as many times as you'd like until the end of the contest. - Your entry MUST be your own work. - All entries must include a written blurb explaining your thought process (unless the entry is a short story or poem). - Contest ends on the last day of summer, Friday, September 21, 2012.
This contest was inspired by this.
As the wind blows my hair behind me, Looking out the window I see the calamity, Of memories lost and forgotten, To everyone except him and me.
How does he know? My innermost secrets and how to control, My every strength to escape this hell hole, Why take me to the beach?
Ah, the beach. He sucks that memory out of me like a leach. Memories of sand, lemonade, and family games, I must not remember them, their names.
He says he's my new family now, Still how does he know? Oh yes, he told me some time ago, A spy, a thief, a burglar watching my every move from my window.
I remember better summers, Playing in the park with that one man, His actual face long forgotten, I wonder if he misses me.
Being out from school, Playing with band friends, Such a shame they don't know, They'll never see this face again.
We almost arrive to our destination, His motives still unclear, He doesn't know I have to reclaim my innocence, I must make him experience my fear.
I sit on a chair facing the ocean, He seems to have chosen a specific time of day, I must choose the right time, to end his miserable existence.
As I plunge the knife into his neck, I remember summers of last, Trying to find ways to escape the heat, I know now what it's like to be free.
I watch him suffer, every ache echoes success, My world starts to blur and twirl, I know I'm returning.
I wake up to find my captor sitting beside me again, I know he knows what I dream of, I smile and throw my arms around his neck, He's my future now.
With him new summer's memories will be made.
I might change it or post a different picture later or something though. But in case I don't get a chance to, here's my entry for the moment.
I dnt think the judges will like my summer piks.... :D
Post them please, we'd love to see :-)
What makes you think that?! You never know unless you try!
The car, silent in its footsteps, moving, moving, moving, Fred didn't have a chance. Swiftly taken away from this play, no longer a character in life, that Autobot used a knife.
DRINK BOOZE ALCOHOL
BOOZE
ALCOHOL
Just Like Eddie
Makaio stood on the huge brown cliffs overlooking Kahului Bay, his wooden board gripped tightly under his arms and his chocolate-brown eyes staring straight ahead at the rise and fall of the sapphire-blue waves. His brother, Keli'i, stood beside him. Makaio looked up at him. His long coal-black hair was tied into a ponytail, just like all the other young men of twenty-five in the village. He was very well-built; the muscles on his dark skin seemed to glint in the bright sun, which shone in the clear Hawaiian sky.
No one else was on the beach; they had come early so that Keli'i could fulfill his promise to Makaio. He had promised the boy, just a young man of fourteen, that as soon as school ended for the summer, he would teach him how to surf as well as Eddie Aikau. Eddie was Makaio's hero; he even came from Makaio's village, Kahului on the island of Maui. While they were walking to the beach, Makaio asked Keli'i if he knew Eddie.
"No, but your Uncle Uku did," the older man replied. Makaio's Uncle Uku was also known as Elder Uku. He was the wisest, most learned elder in Kahului and Makaio felt honored to call himself the nephew of such a wise man.
"What did he say about Eddie?" Makaio was a very curious boy.
"He was very brave. He rode the biggest of waves and came back without a scratch. Your uncle trusted him with all his being. Eddie was his closest friend. He and your uncle used to have a saying: He po`i na kai uli, kai ko`o, `a`ohe hina pakoa. Though the seas be deep and rough, the coral rock remains standing. Their friendship was built to last ages, Makaio."
"Wow! Will I get to meet Eddie someday?" Makaio had asked hopefully. His smile faded when Keli'i threw his head back and laughed loudly.
"Brother, we will all meet Eddie someday, but it most likely will not be in Hawai'i."
In 1978, Eddie had gone on a journey to follow the ancient route of the Polynesian migration between the Hawaiian and Tahitian island chains. The canoe he was on collapsed. While the rest of the crew was rescued, Eddie was never seen again. He was just thirty-one years old.
Now that he knew that, here, looking out at the ebb and flow of the tide, Makaio resolved to make his uncle and Eddie proud of him.
"I can do this, Keli'i," he said confidently.
"Watch your words, brother," Keli'i warned. "I ka 'olelo no ke ola, i ka 'olelo no ka make. In speech is life, in speech is death. Remember what I taught you; paddle out, turn around and raise--"
"That's all there is to the coastline craze! Like the Beach Boys!" Makaio said excitedly. Keli'i smiled and nodded confidently. With his board in tow, he rushed out towards the water, running down the narrow slope that connected the cliffs to the beach. His muscled, powerful legs carried him as easily as if he were a kite. Makaio watched his brother paddle out, raise and turn and ride a gigantic wave that was coming at him. He did a flip off the top of the wave and landed with relative ease. He rode the wave back to shore, set his board on the beach and looked up at Makaio and shouted, "Easy!"
Makaio took a deep breath. It was his turn now. He ran down the slope, past Keli'i and into the water. He paddled out to sea and rose up on his board.
The feeling was amazing. He felt free, free from all his problems. All of the reservations he had disappeared. He felt as if he were Eddie himself; he flipped off the top of the waves in fluid motions. Riding through the eye of the wave was spectacular; clear blue-green walls of water surrounded him as the waves carried him along. Makaio realized that Uncle Uku was right; the water was not trying to hurt him; it was his friend.
Makaio came out of the eye of the wave and rode the rest back to shore. He dismounted beside his brother and said, "How did I do, Keli'i?"
Keli'i smiled his big, shining smile, clapped a hand on Makaio's shoulder and said, "Brother, you were just like Eddie!"
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