Hidden Potential

I love to watch fireworks.
It doesn't really matter if its the grand displays done for hundreds of thousands of people,
or the small fireworks you can set off in front of your house.
I love to watch them.
Why?
Well....because its a surprise.
Because you never know what is going to come out of the packaging until you light the fuse.
Will it be a big burst of colors covering half the horizon?
Or small flashes of bright light followed by a boom?
Will the firework flare up?
Or will it...do nothing?
You never know with fireworks.
I'm not even sure the makers known exactly what will happen.
Sure they know the ingredients that go in. The colors that will appear, the wrapping it will be put into, and the design as well.
But until you light that fuse...its all a mystery on how the pieces fall into play. Especially when experimenting with new fireworks. You never know if you'll get that smiley face in the sky to work, or if it will be a circle with random colors inside until that fuse is lit and the firework bursts into the air.
That's why I love fireworks.
The variety, the different expressions of color designed by different people.
How you can see the trails of many as they shoot up,
but also the unexpected surprises of a firework you didn't see shoot off lighting up the sky.
Yah....fireworks are alot like people.
Different wrappings, hidden potential.
And you never know how that potential will express itself,
Until you 'light their fuse' and discover what sort of talents they can express when given positive motivation.

Until you next see these words;
I"ll be watching the *coughfireworkscough* leaves.
Enjoy the day!

-Sarnic Dirchi

The Dream

I was with Kikay, and my friends plus our writing group.
We were sitting at picnic tables near a school play ground.
And we were critiquing each other's stories.
It was Kikay's turn so she passed out the pages we were going to critique.
And started reading.
I followed along, but as I stopped to make critiques, suggestions, and to ask questions.
Which meant i got further behind.
So when she'd finished on page 4 I was on page 2.
They wanted me to critique first, but I wasn't ready yet.
So the others started critiquing.
And one of the guys...he was an older gentleman.
Was bashing one of the illustrations Kikay had done to go along with her story.
The background was red and showed two 'cupid' baby like people in clouds.
The man was saying that it was dumb that she'd used her own face on one of the boys
and that it looked weird on the curlie haired head.
I looked at it....and yes...it was a strange looking painting.
The figure in question did have her face and great big eyes...that would wink.
Which I found creepy, but not really critiqueable.
It was a drawing in a rough draft of the story.
I thought it was more important to focus on her story and not the pictures.
It didn't even seem to apply that picture.
Anyway...the other group disappeared,
and it was me left with Kikay.
I asked her if she still wanted me to critique her and she said yes.
So I flipped open my notebook to find her story.
And...well I was having troubles finding the pages I'd critiqued in green ink.
They'd gotten mixed up in my own story.

Then the unholy tones of daylight pulled me away....
and I became myself again.

-S.N.D