A Compilation of Creative Writing Pieces

Ekphrasis (Stories Based on a Piece of Art)

Smiling in Paradise

(Based on the Painting: Mona Lisa - Leonardo DaVinci)

Out beyond the vast land lays a village no bigger than an Acre. The village has everything you could want: a Library, Blacksmith, Butcher, Cartographer, Cleric, Library and a couple of Farms. This is the story of a couple in this village. The husband is a Farmer, and the wife just does things around the house.

Every day, when the farmer went out to tend his fields or take his crops to the local Market, the wife would do her daily chores and, if she had the time, she would hike out into the mountains. She would sit on an old tree stump and just look out into the distance, and just watch nature.

This went on for the longest time without the husband's knowledge. Until one day, when the husband came home from the market early, with a loaf of bread from the Bakery. He noticed that she was nowhere to be found. He became very suspicious. Was his wife being unfaithful? Was she seeing someone else? He would have to find out.

The next morning, the farmer said that he was going to tend to the vineyard, as the grapes were almost ripe. As he was leaving, the woman left as usual, and the husband pursued. As he followed her, he grew more and more confused. The civilization wasn't for miles in any direction. Why was she going this way?

As time went by, he had more questions than answers. He continued to follow her, only stopping to catch his breath or hide in a bush or behind a tree when he stepped on a twig or leaf. Eventually, she halted and turned to the left. There, she sat on her stump and breathed in the cooler, thinner air on the mountain top. The husband tried to get a good view, but his view was blocked by the leaves of the bush. Then, the wife inhaled, and said, just loud enough for her dearly beloved to hear "This is Paradise..."

A Night of Beauty

(Based on the Painting: Starry Night - Vincent Van Gogh)

As a writer, I need to look for things that inspire creativity, but unfortunately, I have yet to find some in a while. I've hit a wall, and can't seem to get over, around, or through it. That is, until one fateful night that changed my view on writing and life forever.

It was around midnight, and I was wide awake. You may ask "What am I doing awake at such an unearthly hour?" Maybe I was dead, but I wasn't. With no way to sleep, albeit the night was very peaceful, I walked to my desk and lit my kerosene lamp. I dipped my pen and tried to write.

Then, I heard the voice of the LORD Almighty calling me in a sweet, tender voice. A fatherly voice, one that I have been starved of hearing since I was in my single-digits. It called my name and told me to look out my window. Of course, I couldn't refuse God's Command, so I looked and what I saw will stay with me until the day I die.

I looked and I could see the moon gazing down at a view of trees, buildings, and mountains. I could see the lanterns of buggies from my window. The steeple of the church was off in the distance and stuck out among the other buildings like a shepherd among his sheep. Around the moon were stars that seemed to dance around the Angel of Nighttime Beauty.

As time went by, words started flooding into my head. At first, the sky turned a dark blue, then to a dark purple, and the Angel of Nighttime Beauty faded away, then her subjects as the sky turned pink with smudges of yellow. When the sky turned its usual light blue, I went to my desk and started to write.

The maids and servants dared not disturb me, except to ask what I was doing. I told her that God gave me inspiration. She was so nonplussed by what she had heard that she told the butcher boy. Then, the butcher boy apparently told the people at the square until one of the Priests at the church heard all of the hub-bub.

The priest then asked me to go to church to hear what I had seen, if that makes any sense at all. He was shocked by what I said, so much so, that he told the Village President, and he couldn't believe his ears! And, it went on from there, until my work became world-famous... 

As Time Melts Away

(Based on the Painting: The Persistence of Memory - Salvador Dali)

As time melts away,

So do memories

Of friends and

Loved ones.

As time melts away,

So does the life

We once knew.

It melts away,

Like ice in soda

Or a snowman in summer,

As time melts away

It dissolves until it's nothing.

And just like time,

All of us who read this

Will melt away

As time does.

The question is,

What will we do with our time?

How will we live with it?

Because time waits for nobody.

Aging Talents, Dying Arts

(Based on the Painting: The Old Guitarist - Pablo Picasso)

An old guitarist

Stands by a building.

He's old and frail

And rather sickly.

He reminds me of great blacksmiths

From times of old.

For, he's still practicing

His dying art.

He still strums his guitar,

Tuning it occasionally,

And keeps strumming

Accepting the occasional coin.

He knows that one day

Both he and his art

Will die,

However,

He keeps strumming,

As if performing CPR on his craft,

Until he stops,

Until he dies...

A Person's Only True Ally

(Based on the Painting: Lady with an Ermine - Leonardo DaVinci)

Everyone stares at the Dutchess, because of her odd companion.

They would ask "Why a ferret, of all pets?!"

And she would always respond with "It's my one true ally."

Then, she would go into a, quite lengthy, monologue.

"The reason I am always with my ferret is that it has never committed wrongdoing towards me.

It doesn't try to give advice, nor judge me.

It won't betray me, nor forsake me, nor leave me for dead.

Like my husband did.

He left for a 'diplomatic mission.'

And came back with another mistress, bearing his child.

So, I left him after his betrayal.

And I took my ferret with me.