#1
C4C

The Hue Of Genesis


Weaved into her near perfect hair was a collection of intricately decorated ribbons. Each ribbon was unique, seemingly hand made with designs which reflected that of South American culture. The vibrant colors contrasted beautifully against her long, black hair which effortlessly flowed like the ever tantalizing Iguaza Falls. Her skin was a light shade of brown which emphasized her greatest asset, her eyes. Like two drops of white paint with a center of sky blue, her eyes told a different story with each moment of my transfixion. It was as if I was watching a silent film. I could see and experience everything that was being presented before me, but no sound was exchanged. The language barrier could not be broken but we continued to communicate. When our eyes interlocked, the world became a canvas awaiting the approval for its artist to begin. A gleeful smile raised her pink orchid colored lips, leaving a small opening through which I could see her glistening white teeth. This was the indication for the artist to begin. Gentle strokes of various colors covered the canvas. Inventing new and exciting hues, the painter was inspired by his ability to create. Back and forth his paintbrush soared over the surface, blending new and unusual combinations. He could not stop, for he was worried he would soon lose his creative mood.

Staring at the now dull shades of gray, of which were created by his lack of color discipline; he took a step back to admire his craftsmanship. He overlooked the flaws and took in to consideration only the fact that he; the famous painter had done the work not of what quality the final product was. He had indisputable power over his work and that is all he needed to know to abuse it.
#2
There is a thing with writing short prose in this sort of way.

You don't see these sort of things published. You know why?Becuase it's not really an established artform. The couple-of-paragraphs-prose-workout isn't exactly an art. It's a work out. It's where you take some ideas, fiddle with them, and not really develop something big. It's ap lay around. It's a journal piece. And that's where most belong. I mean, what did you say in the first paragraph? That you saw an attractive girl.

Now, in poetry, such an idea could be spread out amongst a whole poem. In a short story, maybe possibly in fewer lines than yourself, this could be expanded to a bigger idea. Here though, in this midly-temperal prosaic form, it is lost, because not only are the ideas present not exactly top-rate, they are presented in a form that is just not popular enough for the reader to be aware of it's conventions.

It's not exactly a critiscm of this piece, it's just a general complaint. This text is not boring, but it is predictable and tedious. Each sentence, each idea has an added clause in which to make the whole thing more poetic. A metaphor/simile thrown in. An abstract idea. An image. Whatever. It soon becomes dull and frustrating because the reader is involved not in the action or what is actually going in , but in a surrealist way it experiences it. I don't know how good a thing tha is myself.

I'd say you have two paths open; cut this down and make a decent poem out of it, or open up a short story where in stead of spelling out the metaphors like you have done here, you show them in dialogue and action. Both ways would be more succesful than his form, I believe. This way you can try and involve the reader more, and be a bit more open about your own feelings.

At th emoment it feels like a stuffy, short piece of prose, with false-poetic meanings and a tendency to lead towards style for the sake of style, and for the sacrifice of real meaning.
#3
Quote by muel333
C4C

The Hue Of Genesis


Weaved into her near perfect hair was a collection of intricately decorated ribbons. Each ribbon was unique, seemingly hand made with designs which reflected that of South American culture. The vibrant colors contrasted beautifully against her long, black hair which effortlessly flowed like the ever tantalizing Iguaza Falls. Her skin was a light shade of brown which emphasized her greatest asset, her eyes. Like two drops of white paint with a center of sky blue, her eyes told a different story with each moment of my transfixion. It was as if I was watching a silent film. I could see and experience everything that was being presented before me, but no sound was exchanged. The language barrier could not be broken but we continued to communicate. When our eyes interlocked, the world became a canvas awaiting the approval for its artist to begin. A gleeful smile raised her pink orchid colored lips, leaving a small opening through which I could see her glistening white teeth. This was the indication for the artist to begin. Gentle strokes of various colors covered the canvas. Inventing new and exciting hues, the painter was inspired by his ability to create. Back and forth his paintbrush soared over the surface, blending new and unusual combinations. He could not stop, for he was worried he would soon lose his creative mood.

Staring at the now dull shades of gray, of which were created by his lack of color discipline; he took a step back to admire his craftsmanship. He overlooked the flaws and took in to consideration only the fact that he; the famous painter had done the work not of what quality the final product was. He had indisputable power over his work and that is all he needed to know to abuse it.


It does seem that rambling prose is a somewhat niche artform. The ability to retain what you have read, after you have read it, is quite difficult, especially when compared to a poem. The poetical ideas and concepts are definately there, and are applied very well. But it doesn't have the same flow as poetry. That is the definitive problem with prose. It's written like poety, which we all know, has to be especially concentrated on whilst being read, but it lacks the flow that poetry has, and because of that, it becomes slightly tedious. I don't mean this in a bad way at all. Your ability to create a picture through the words you use is amazing, but it just needs that flow. I do kinda agree with the other guy, in as much as saying that you should take the meat of that prose and make it into a dandy little poem, find that flow!

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#4
Interesting ideas, some of which I had never thought of before. I think that I might develope this into a short story because my ability to transfer ideas into shorter forms is not yet good enough in my opinion. I really appreciate your views and for taking the time to look it over. I'll get to crit. yours soon Slap Bassist.