Julie Lacksonen
Bio
Julie has been a music teacher at a public school in Arizona since 1987. She enjoys writing, reading, walking, swimming, and spending time with family.
Achievements (1)
Stories (219/0)
7 Days
Cold. This body is so cold. So many things hit me at once. In addition to the cold, I feel extreme hunger, something smells rancid, and someone is poking my arm. Tentatively, I open my eyes. The person standing over me seems pleased – I’m not sure whether it’s because I’m awake or because he thinks he’s responsible for reviving me. The younger man smells bad, but I think I’m the one who smells rancid.
By Julie Lacksonen3 years ago in Humans
Color Me
Complex colors of character and culture caress CREATIVE consciousness, continually evoking casual conversation, creating cadence or cacophony; concord or contradiction; confirmation or confusion. Cream to copper, mocha to black - can communities coexist?
By Julie Lacksonen3 years ago in Poets
7 Days
The transformation is complete. I take a gasping breath. Who am I this time? I quickly look around. I’m in a kitchen. People around me are working at the many counters, some mixing dough, others putting finishing touches on creations. I look down. I’m wearing an apron and my male hands are covered in flour. In front of me is some sugar cookie dough rolled out. It’s a bakery. I reason that it may be easier to pretend I know what I’m doing than if this had been a full restaurant kitchen, with many recipes to learn on the fly. I realize baking can be a sophisticated and delicate craft, but hopefully I’m not expected to be at that level. I remember being a teenaged girl about 40 weeks ago, give or take. I was watching my grandmother make cookies. I take the cookie cutter and start pressing it in the dough, trying keep the circles close to have less dough to reroll. Just when I’m feeling proud of myself for jumping right into the situation, a woman walks up behind me and yells, “Walters, pick up the pace! You should have had two batches in the oven by now. Either finish or I’ll hire the next homeless person who comes through the door begging for a handout.” She’s intense, with her hair pulled back severely in a bun, arms behind her back like a drill sergeant. I’m thankful that customers are not privy to this rant.
By Julie Lacksonen3 years ago in Humans
Looking for Love
The year is 1978. Julie is an eighth-grade wallflower, the shiest girl at her school. She is taller than all the other students, including the boys, so she slouches in an attempt to conceal her height, for all the good that does. As the second child in a family of seven, all living on a teacher’s income, she can’t wear the latest fashions, and she certainly doesn’t fit in with the popular crowd. Her classmates rarely give her a second look, other than an occasional sneer . Her home life is fine, but her social life is nonexistent. Worst of all, she’s too shy to attract a boyfriend.
By Julie Lacksonen3 years ago in Beat
Sneaky Snake
This poem was written as part of a safari music production. I have nothing against snakes. In fact, I included some interesting facts about snakes in the show, such as: 1. Snakes don't have eyelids. 2. Snakes swallow their food whole, since they can't chew. 3. There are 3,686 species of snakes, found on all continents except Antarctica.
By Julie Lacksonen3 years ago in Poets