Moonlight trickled down its starry path and onto the silent road. Each cobblestone glistened under the moon’s gaze. Nothing but ice cold air pierced the air with its crisp scent. The stone buildings on one side of the road rose high into the sky as if trying to catch a star. On the opposite side, a vast ocean stood still before a hooded man. This man pondered quietly over the city behind him. It was such a pity that a marvelous sight would be so poisoned under its sleek and shiny coating.
As the stars grew dimmer, the poison seemed clearer. Rats that seemed to have appeared in midair rested on the edge of the road, determining the
Daniel walked along the bank of the river passing reeds and cattails swirling in the light summer air. The stars of twilight were twinkling coldly against the summer heat. He studied the leaves on nearby ash trees, imagining he could see in detail its map of veins. Birds twittered all around him, filling his mind with their sweet song. His thoughts drifted to his multitude of worries and wondered how there could possibly be any problems in this beautiful world before him.
The river teemed with brightly colored fish, and various insects came flickering past creating a rainbow in the air. The lush grass swayed to the will of the winds, oc
As I walked up the road, I readjusted the plate of cookies in my hand. I didn't want to drop them before my first meeting with the new neighbor. I wasn't always the best with introductions, that’s George’s job; he’s the social one. Ever since he’s been in the hospital, though, it’s not only been hard meeting new people, but also talking to the ones I already know. Poor little Christopher can’t seem to get over the fact that his father is in the hospital. It’s even worse on him than on me, because he believes it was his fault. He didn't mean to distract George while he was driving.
I came to
Daniel walked along the bank of the river passing reeds and cattails swirling in the light summer air. The stars of twilight were twinkling coldly against the summer heat. He studied the leaves on nearby ash trees, imagining he could see in detail its map of veins. Birds twittered all around him, filling his mind with their sweet song. His thoughts drifted to his multitude of worries and wondered how there could possibly be any problems in this beautiful world before him.
The river teemed with brightly colored fish, and various insects came flickering past creating a rainbow in the air. The lush grass swayed to the will of the winds, oc
As I walked up the road, I readjusted the plate of cookies in my hand. I didn't want to drop them before my first meeting with the new neighbor. I wasn't always the best with introductions, that’s George’s job; he’s the social one. Ever since he’s been in the hospital, though, it’s not only been hard meeting new people, but also talking to the ones I already know. Poor little Christopher can’t seem to get over the fact that his father is in the hospital. It’s even worse on him than on me, because he believes it was his fault. He didn't mean to distract George while he was driving.
I came to
Brian Kesinger: Character Driven by techgnotic, journal
Brian Kesinger: Character Driven
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Disney Artist Brian Kesinger on Creating Story through Character
Foreword by techgnotic (https://www.deviantart.com/techgnotic)
It is with great pleasure we welcome BrianKesinger (https://www.deviantart.com/briankesinger) as a guest writer to the Today Page Editorial Team. Considering his authentic citizenship within the deviantART community, his thoughts and insights will be of great value to all aspiring artists, illustrators, writers and others involved in any creative endeavor. For over 18 years, Brian has worked for Walt Disney Studios on films like Big Hero 6, Winnie the Pooh, Tarzan, Tangled, Wreck It Ralph and Bolt. Brian is author and illustrator of his own octovictorian creation, the wild
Mother
13-4-14
I am a mother.
I may not have held him
In arms longing to experience the joy
Of a child’s weight.
I may not have seen him
With eyes that linger on sonograms
With a touch of tears.
I may not have smelt his scent
Even through a nose
Coated in snot.
I may not have done these things,
And more,
But I am still a mother
And he is my son.