Whispered In The Wind

Whispered In The Wind
Just a fairy blowing in the wind, singing tales to the west wind

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Welcome, Make Yourself Comfortable And Help Yourself To The Pixie Dust

 Greetings Earthlings!
The purpose of a blog would be of course, to write things on. We may define what a blog is for, many times over with many philosophical debates.In fact we might even take out our gold monocles and large computers and feathered pens and dispute back and forth the purpose of a blog with much vigor. However, in the end,it is just a public notebook onto which,ink is spilled. 

Many times it is like a diary that you open to the world.Or a long ramble on what you had for breakfast and why your brother's toes stink. However this particular virtual notebook is not my diary and I will not be spilling the agonies of my abnormal teenage life,triumphs and tribulations or my youthful angst in all its glory and teeth gnashing.Unless of course, it is called for. Nor, will I ramble about how I went to the market, bought cream spinach, didn't like the creamed spinach and oh by the way, clowns are frightening and probably eat small children. Though rambling is an especial talent of mine, I shall at least ramble with some purpose, which I will most likely miss by a mile. So dearest reader,now you may ask "Then why start a blog?!" You may ask,but I will answer anyways.


Yes, that simple.Just pure, unadulterated stories.(Yes, that is a fragment sentence. Please do not kill me.)The world is just a large book filled with the stories of past,present and future. And as an InkSpinner,collector of stories,avid reader and amateur eaves-dropper,I am embarking on a mission. This mission is dangerous and may involve fighting gnomes,sporks and large vats of mayonnaise. My mission is to collect stories and compile them here, for months on end. To search out stories in my own life, stories in others lives, the small tales that fell between the cracks or lie in the wrinkles of old ladies.(That was supposed to sound poetic and..it sounds creepy.)Since I was little,I've loved to listen to the fantastical tales of people's lives,the small moments that changed them forever,the journeys and trips.I have buried them one by one into my heart,embedded them unconsciously into stories. And now I must admit:I collect stories. I am a story pack rat.And now before they burst and I bleed ink,I must write them down.But not just actual stories.Of course not! Who wants only visible reality! Not me!I also want to record fairy-tales and fables,tales of hogwash,songs of old shoes and wrinkled leather,sonnets of fairies and goblins,stories of monkeys and wart remover. Because what good is any truth if it can't be mixed with a little pixie dust,eh? So welcome to my spider web,where I spin my inky tales and spill inked tales of old,past and future!

Do you have a story? Wonderful! Amazing! Fantabulous! "oh, frabjous day! Calloo! Callay!"(Or something around those lines.) Share it. Email it to me:hyerington@gmail.com. Be it a fable about a small pig who has insecurities about his curly tail and weight or how your aunt or maybe even you,was a hot dog eating champion, send it! Life is composed of stories and no matter how young or how old you are, you have a story or several. Do not let them collect dust! A good story should never be filed into a cardboard box in your brain to choke on dust and die, labeled,"A good story I never told anyone so now I am just leaving it here to die because I am a weirdo." Email it to me!I am surely not the only collector of stories nor only inkspinner. Take up a thread of ink and weave this web a bit with me. Of course I just realized that calling this my spider web is a most horribly delightful pun. Clever. 

InkSpinner-One who spins stories,dreams dreams practices the art of eavesdropping and rambling,wishes on shooting stars,collects tales and is drunk off words and pixie dust.


"I want warm summer nights, to lie in a hammock, staring at the stars, telling you stories. "

"I want warm summer nights, to lie in a hammock, staring at the stars, telling you stories. "
"When asked not to make waves, I just smiled and said, don't worry this is just a ripple"