Shooping Spree

Hi my name is Chiko. It's been 3 minutes and 47 seconds since I last used Photoshop. I am an addict.

Or at least those are the words that would be tumbling off my tongue if I were to attend P.A.(Photoshop Anonymous) meetings. Considering the time spent using this incredible program as of late, I could be called an addict. I prefer to use the title of aspiring designer practicing in her area of expertise (and yes, for those of you who did not know, I am female), but alas I remain guilty.

So with that aside, I made a new banner. Hopefully it will 'outshine' the last. Heh, only true photoshoppers may notice how its radiance just glows. Oh obvious hint is obvious and the joke still lame.

Returning to next weeks' meeting,
~Chiko.

The Hidden

I received today a book. Hours later indulged among its virgin pages, my mind is lost to its size 12 strings of words. I was living so intently in a world not my own, when brought back to reality things seemed amiss. It's a weird feeling, like I have mild amnesia. Phrases spoken in my native language made minimal sense. I am grasping at concepts that should not seem foreign. I look over my shoulder. Author of the Departed Kathlyn Mackel's teal book face down on the desk, the half face and horse silhouette starring unintentionally back at me. The book pleads for me to pick it up and continue absorbing the tale that it weaves with each turn of a page.

With thoughts of charred bodies, missing vets and a mysterious alluring black arabian stallion leading to a man chained in a cave, the shadows beneath my bed deter me from resuming my previous location when reading. The deliverence of riviting insight into the unseen world around us through such an intriguing storyline runs through my head like the horses through the adequetly described Robinson Ranch located at the base of Folly Mountain.

Cantering off into the sunset that my mind paints,
~Chiko.

Blarggity Blargg Blargg!

A busy life makes for time hard pressed to blog. Despite the numerous times a day that I check my own blog, the most progress I produce is an empty stare at this almost monochromatic display page. The fatigue that washes over me at the conclusion of a day also pilfers my desire to write, with this post being an exception.

Postponed till further notice,
~Chiko...

Refurbishing We Go

Alas, I have subjected myself to actually doing some "shooping" for the benefit of this blog. After a bit of renovations, I give you the revamped version of Delusions of Ingenuity!

Constructively Yours,
~Chiko.

Senses Around Me

My mind is as dark and as void as my room is right now with its lights off. Despite the lone back light from my laptop, everything still appears blurred with my lacking motivation to actually focus my sights. Near to my right there is the dull yet consistent hum of my tower as it drones on in its constant state of unrest. Before me is the faint tapping as I type these very words on this familiar program to which I have no particular sentiments. Remaining is only the rhythmic light wisps of breath as my lungs rise and fall in a life long forged pattern. This is what fills my room at this hour of the night. An abstracted mind’s wandering eye gazing upon this room can see how everything has grown to be what it is right now. How each and every single object in my room has a story behind it. When I raise my hand up towards the ceiling, looking past it but observing its shape, its like I’m looking in a mirror at myself, but not just physically. I can see all the heartfelt memories and pain filled scars and the fashioned tales that my hands tell. I can realize how I have changed over the long years. My size, looks, colourings, definitions, even how I view myself. My hands are what make me who I am. How they move and how they react. How steady they are and how they flow with steams of life. As if all the creativity in my entire being flows out through these hands of mine. I can see the power held within, but the control and gentle edge as well. The passion, the rage, the desire to create and the ability to destroy. From the way the skin sits over my bones, veins and muscle to the scars, spots and freckles all make up the adjectives that spice up the story of my life.

I used to hate my hands, but now I love them.
~Chiko.