Alice Eckles
Bio
artist, writer, being
I’m interested in life, nature, art, books, joy, beauty, doing stuff and refreshment.
Art portfolio at www.AliceEcklesStudio.com
Daily paintings available at www.AliceEcklesArt.com
@aliceecklesstudio on Instagram
Stories (20/0)
Context Amnesia
I woke up from hazy dreams. They were full and rich, and I was excited about my place there. But in the morning all the specifics were gone. I had the feeling for all the wonderful things in my life and my connections and purpose and so much to look forward to-
By Alice Eckles12 months ago in Fiction
Onion at the Heart
Take a picture of. It doesn't matter: it's the spirit of the action that counts. He takes the picture. At first, he feels guilty of trespassing; he's about to go. But farms here are big and the owners never see. Toni hill, cranky tree; it's hard to find nature's sitcoms. Takes time, plotting, meditation. Bill appreciated meditation: that is what he sought when he fled in panic. And he left with his eyes wits chattering in the film box of his camera.
By Alice Eckles2 years ago in Fiction
A peacock, a weasel, and a pear tree
The peacock Peacock was molting. It was his first molt and and he wasn’t taking it very well. He was very proud of his feathers. He thought of himself as the most handsome creature in the garden. He loved to strut around Julia’s Perennial Tea House impressing guests when they came to buy peonies and drink tea. But now he was afraid. At any moment he could lose another feather and it was only a matter of time until his rump looked bare and his fan of color was gone. He could see the trend, but he didn’t want anyone else to know what he was going through. Each time a feather fell out he surreptitiously took it in his beak and relocated it to a hiding place. And when he showed off his fan of color he was coy, not opening the fan all the way, so that what feathers he still had made a solid band of color, even if it was a narrower band of green and blue than it used to be. He hoped it looked intentional, as if he were in too much of a hurry, going someplace important, to open his fan all the way.
By Alice Eckles3 years ago in Fiction
Frozen Pond Water
I just wanted to win the prize. There are no easy ways to make money, at least not for me, and the prize money wasn’t a huge amount. But it attracted me as a way to get a little something for myself. I was full of anxiety about money having got myself into a bind.
By Alice Eckles3 years ago in Fiction
Go light
Anything could be taken away in one breeze of delight on a summer day, deep into the green light of water pooled in the falls. Except there is no breeze. The smell of this place: stone, water, and moss. I’m not sure if it’s good or bad. It’s fresh, but not unspoiled. In any case it’s relief from the terrible humidity that hunts me down wherever I roam. Stillness is what’s needed today. There’s a ticking sound. What the spoiled smell is and what the ticking sound is, are hardly my concern.
By Alice Eckles3 years ago in Fiction
