Archives for category: Creative Writing

witch cooking2

Devil had the great idea yesterday to play tag-a-Dede for a while, but he didn’t reckon with the rest of the Dedes. When he put it to the others they rolled their eyes, or at least some of them did. Luckily for Devil, Witch was  busy cooking as usual and didn’t pay much attention to what he had to say. When Devil announced he would tag her first up she didn’t react at all, so Devil took it she’d agreed.

It was a slightly different story this morning when he wanted to give her the questions she had to answer. All of a sudden she didn’t want to have a bar of it.  Everybody had a hard time convincing her that she was indeed present when the game was discussed and she did not object to being the first one tagged.

Finally she shrugged her shoulders and conceded. “But I won’t tell you how old I am!” she said, as Devil handed her the questions. “Rest assured, there are no incriminating questions” said Devil. “You can answer in any way you like. We don’t know if they are correct!” Of course I know very well everyone will try to appear in the best possible light.

1. What is your pet hate?

Witch:  When someone judges without knowing the full story.

2. Describe yourself in three words?

Witch: Patient,  independent, good looking.

3. Is there anything you can’t get your head around?

Witch: If someone puts profit over humanity and the environment

4. If you could eradicate one thing from the world, what would this be!

Witch: Racism

5. You are a witch, why don’t you just eradicate it then?

Witch: I am a witch not the Almighty. There are limitations to what I can do. Like everybody else I can but try.

Witch was obviously relieved that it was over, but Devil explained to her that it was now her turn to come up with five questions for another Dede. “Who would you like to tag, then?”

Socialite” she answered, as she was sitting right opposite.

devil under tree

The Dedes were very upset that I brushed them off on Friday night. Quicker than I had anticipated, they re-instated Devil as their spokesperson.  It was a unanimous decision, mainly because nobody else wanted to do the job and Devil wasn’t really that serious about handing in his resignation. Secretly, he was chuffed everybody voted to have him back in the job.

Being earnest about his new, old, position he  came straight to me and aired the concern that bothered everyone. “Have you fallen out of love with us?” he asked outright.

“Of course not!” I said. It  must have sounded pretty lame, rather like I wanted to fob him off again.

“But why are you not writing about us then? There is still stuff happening in the Dede world. You simply don’t report about us anymore! When we look at the blog there are only photos of things we don’t even recognise. I don’t know how many times I have to remind you, it is our blog and it is your obligation to write about us. At least that is what our contract says, or am I wrong?”

Devil, we never signed a contract!”

“Ah well, naming the blog dedepuppets.com is as good as a contract!”

“I agree, it is your blog and yes, it has your name.”

“So, do your job then. I’ll watch you!” he said and turned away ready to leave.

“Hang on, hang on…” I said. I wanted to ask him what they would do if I don’t comply. Are they going to find themselves a new artist? Tough luck. Let’s face it, the Dedes and I are linked, come hell or high water. I have to admit, at the moment I am sick of these demanding little critters who can see only their own perspective. Oh, I would so like to give them a piece of my mind for a change, but I bit my tongue.

“Look Devil,” I said instead, “I am a bit pre-occupied with building stuff at the moment. It won’t be forever. To be honest, I would rather write nothing about you than crap. If I write rubbish, that won’t help your cause either. You do understand, don’t you?”

He looked at me for a while. I could tell it made sense to him but he was in a bind. He needed to go back to the rest of the Dedes with a more positive answer.

“Okay” he said at last. “I have an idea. Let’s have a week of  ‘tag-a-Dede'”

“What is that?” I asked.

“You ask a Dede of your choice 5 questions and the Dede has to answer it as honestly as possible! That would mean we are running the show and you don’t have anything to do with it. Mouse can help us putting the answers up on the blog. She is good at that.”

“That is such a brilliant idea!” I could have hugged Devil  but he is not the huggy type. I was so relieved he came up with a solution that meant less work for me for a change.

‘I can make a start and tag Witch tomorrow. I always wanted to ask the old girl a few things.” Devil was really excited about his idea. “I have to come up with 5 really good questions. Maybe some of our readers want to help me! So if you have a question for Witch, our health freak, let me know.”

meeting

I knew it, I knew it. I am in trouble with the Dedes again. They constantly watch whether I spend enough time on their cause. I think I finally figured out what their ultimate goal is. Even if they would never admit it, they want is to be famous…. at any price.

Of course they are annoyed that I put my photographs on their blog  for a week and worse, these photographs got more likes than their stories usually get. For them it is pretty simple. They blame me for everything. They say I am not representing them in the right light and I am currently neglecting them. I am far too busy with other things and I don’t spend enough time with them.

My experience tells me it’s futile to try to defend myself. Once an idea has taken hold in their minds it is a hard task to change their opinion.

Last night they all had a go at me again. I can tell you, it was the last thing I needed at the end of the week. I told them they need to organise themselves better and not rely entirely on me. If they have something to say, they should send their spokesperson.

You might remember Devil has resigned from the spokesperson’s position. So with this move I bought myself some time. They first have to fill the position before they can approach me again. Knowing how the Dedes run their meetings I can relax for a while. I guess  nothing will happen until next weekend :)

nail

This item is so typical of my youth. I got it from the person I had my very first crush on. It is a nail to fix shoes to a horse’s hoof. I don’t know if it is universal, but horse shoes are supposed to be lucky charms. Well, nobody ever gave me the shoe. I had to make do with the nail. But I’ve learned in the meantime they can be just as lucky. You only have to believe in it.

sunny and lartiste

Who is going to tell Sunny that we are not using his project as is. Certainly not me. I am a wimp when it comes to such talks. Thankfully I have a good excuse. I am not even a Dede. If I told him he could view the decision as oppression and blame me, the outsider, for his woes of being turned down yet again rather than taking in the real reservations we all have with his proposal after Minor’s revelation yesterday. No, one of the Dedes has to tell him and let him down softly.

I asked for volunteers and waited for a bit but nobody held their hand up for this certainly ungrateful job. Devil just shook his head when I looked at him. “I resigned from my job as spokesperson, remember? I gave you the letter” he said.

“And I’ve never officially accepted it!” I reminded him.

“You took it and said you will get back to me after the weekend. You never did.”

“Guys, guys, what is it with you two?” Witch interrupted. “It’s not helping. This is a totally different issue and won’t get us anywhere today!”

“I just wish he understood what it means to be an artist” L’Artiste started now. “He doesn’t get that while you can use bits of existing work you have to bring your own in and develop it further. He is such a me-too guy. It drives me bonkers!”

“Do you want to talk to him, artist to artist?” I immediately asked.

“No, he wouldn’t take it from me. He would discard my words as sour grapes, as though I was envious I didn’t come up with this ‘brilliant’ project.”

“Why don’t we all talk to him then he has to accept we all agree on it.”

“Yes, and have him feel like standing before a tribunal? This is a sure recipe for disaster…”

Minor should tell him. After all she knows the entire background. And it was her who alerted us to his ruse.”

“C’mon she is only a teenager. Do you think he will take the message from her?” Detail stepped protectively in front of her daughter.

“I don’t know what the big deal is” Philosopher finally said. “I’ll do it. It’s not that we want to scrap the project entirely. We just have to strip it back and assemble it differently, don’t we? I personally like the beginning with everybody sitting on the stands. It goes right back to our roots as NO BODIES. When you look at the image posted yesterday your expressions are just gorgeous. Can’t we work along these lines? We just need a mentor who can help Sunny develop it into his own style.”

“Agreed” I said quickly before he could change his mind. “You just proved you would be the perfect mentor!”

“But I know the least about art.” Philosopher pointed out.

“Art  is Sunny’s job. You only have to keep him on track.”

harlem shake

Right after breakfast yesterday we went into the studio. Sunny took charge and explained again what he wanted to do. First all the puppets will sit on their stands for 15 seconds and then they all put their robes on and dance like there is no tomorrow for 15 seconds. It sounded like great fun and there were plenty of volunteers who wanted to take part, more than could fit on the tiny little stage. In the end we cast a lot to make it fair for all.

Like Socialite had anticipated, the entire thing was done and dusted in an hour or so. Work with the Dedes was never easier. Sunny was a fantastic lead character and he danced his little heart out to music only he could hear. The trouble started when I put everything together in a video editing program and I needed some real background music. Sunny of course had thought of this too and he gave me a file to use. But, oh dear, most of the others didn’t like his choice at all. It was some sort of techno or hip hop stuff which most of Dedes are no big fans of . Someone suggested using something more melodic that you can really dance to. Something that suited the majority of the Dedes.

“This is not a film by committee.” Sunny put his foot down. “I am the artistic director and this is my choice. So keep your noses out of it!” he insisted. He added I had no choice in the matter. Either I use this piece of music or he would withdraw the project altogether. Not the thing you want to happen after you have spent an hour in the studio already. But there was definitely no room for negotiation. To prove his point Sunny  left the room.

Minor, who was sitting in the corner pretending she wasn’t interested in the goings-on finally spoke up. “You know what he is trying to do?” she asked.

“Yes, he is trying to bully me into using some music that most of Dedes don’t like!”  I said very disappointed.

“What planet are you living on?” She rolled her eyes. “No, he is trying to make you do a Harlem Shake video!?”

“A what?” I asked, as I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. I looked around for help but only saw blank faces.

“Oh gee” she said and came over to push me away from the keyboard. “You oldies really have no idea what’s going on in the big wide world yet you believe we teenagers live in a world of our own. That is so rich!” She loaded a page on Wikipedia and explained to all of us that Harlem Shake is an internet meme that started in the beginning of February this year and peaked by the end of the same month. According to Wikipedia, within a fortnight of the original upload forty thousand similar videos had been made and uploaded by individuals from all over the world. All in the same format that Sunny had suggested! After forty days the videos hit the one billion viewing mark. And according to Youtube the world had spent roughly 2,782 years watching Harlem Shake videos in this one month. She showed us a couple of examples, each of  them 30 seconds long with the same music Sunny had suggested. I was speechless!

“The only artistic input from Sunny really is that usually the participants drop some of their clothing in the second part, while the Dedes put theirs on. So most of the videos have sexual connotations. Mum wouldn’t like me to watch them” she added. “But there are some really funny ones. The Simpsons have done one, there is an underwater one, one by some soldiers in the Norwegian army, and plenty of washing machine to choose from. You name it… even advertising agencies are jumping on the bandwagon. And you know once this happens you really are too late. Let me tell you guys, you’ve missed this train!”

She went back into her corner shaking her head in disbelief.

Now what?

socialite reading

Socialite takes her new job seriously and was reading the first scripts last night. This morning she arrived all chirpy at the breakfast table. “I have one brilliant contender already” she said. “It was handed in by Sunny.”

Just to recap, Sunny is a wanna-be artist who tries very hard to come up with something he will be noticed for. He last featured on this blog when he ripped-off the artwork of ArtistatExit0. Back then I was very cross with him, but now all is forgiven and forgotten as in this process he created our dearly loved mascot Lil’ Sculpture, who sits on the bookshelf watching what the Dedes do.

Socialite continued with her account. “Honestly, this script meets all the criteria. It is very short and everybody who wants to can take part.”

“Is it fun?” asked Alien

“Yes”

“Is it artisic?” asked L’Artiste

“Yes, this too”

“Is it meaningful?” asked Philosopher

“Definitely”

“So tell us the storyline then” I invited her.

She told us the whole thing can be shot in a couple of hours. It starts off with the Dedes sitting in-animate on their stands except for Sunny dancing around everybody. His dancing is so infectious that after a short time all the Dedes are dancing like mad. And that is it.

“It is so simple and says it all” she explained. “Life is drudgery until someone comes along and rips you out of your dullness!”

“Oh dear, you are two months too late” said Minor, the sloppy teenage daughter of Detail. We all looked at her. But she said no more, her eyes glued to her breakfast bowl she continued eating. That made us think she wasn’t actually talking to us and was in her own little world as usual.

“I think it has merit!” I said. “Sunny has done a fine job coming up with this one. If you are all okay, lets give it a go after breakfast!”

You should have seen how quickly they all finished their muesli.

dare devil writing

In typical Dede fashion all the puppets have ideas about what we should do next. So we have around 46 new ideas and everyone is convinced their idea will be an absolute hit. There seems to be a common theme though. They all want to do more films! However, with the precedence L’Artiste set, they all want to feature in their own little films.

L’Artiste of course wants to do another art film, not necessarily a sequel to “Life of an artist” but one where he is the star again and shown in a better light. Devil would like to re-enact what happened at my work this week. Obviously I have been complaining a bit too much at the dinner table. He believes what I have been through all week offers the perfect material for a drama/comedy and the main character would be tailor-made for him. Witch is very keen on doing a cooking show as they are so popular on TV. Her cooking show will of course be totally different as it will promote a healthy lifestyle. And she believes I owe her one since I totally neglect her on the blog.

I of course curse the day when I opened pandora’s box. This morning at breakfast I told them they should put forward their ideas in writing. Socialite volunteered to be my assistant and help vet the scripts. Of course scripts that feature several puppets will have a better chance than those that only feature one. I explained: “Do your math, guys, if everybody got their own film, and it takes at least a weekend to complete one, we would need a year.” I had barely finished when they all ran off to look for pencils and paper and find themselves a quiet space in the house.

“It’s not a competition and speed is not the essence,” I added, but they were all gone already.

rose2

A rose is the ultimate token of love, isn’t it? This tatty old plastic rose is a painful reminder of my youth. I personally can’t understand why people want to be young again. All the pain you go through in your teenage years. The longing for acceptance and respect. You want to be different and stand out, but at the same time you want to fit in and be exactly like everybody else. What a dilemma. No way would I want to go through that again.

I don’t know exactly how I obtained this rose. I can’t remember whether I bullied the person into handing it over to me or not. My memory about this has faded, but the pain I feel when I look at it suggests that it was not given to me voluntarily. I know who I got it from and I remember the situation. It was at one of those travelling fairgrounds with a shooting booth. Teenage crowd, typical situation: girl loves boy, boy loves another girl,  the other girl couldn’t care less and second boy loves first girl, all without anybody really knowing what love actually means. Everything happens in secret, well hidden, or so they think, convinced that nobody except themselves knows, despite it being so blatantly obvious.

As you grow older you watch the next generation repeating the pattern. And just like we were, they are convinced nobody will notice. What can the old folks possibly know about the pain of searching for true love. Weren’t they born old?

What is most surprising though, is that for some people it never seems to end. Watch people in the rest home… It goes on, the craving for respect and acceptance and the search for this one special person.

Lartiste art

I am truly relieved. I found L’Artiste safe and sound, though he devised a devilish plan to get back at me. Let me tell you the story:

My dear friend knows all too well how much I dislike having my image displayed publicly. So while he was sitting up on the ladder he got his pencils and crayons out and did a few sketches of me concentrating on my work with the other Dedes. I didn’t even notice, so engrossed was I in what I was doing. Excited about his cunning plan, he shouted himself a bottle of schnaps to celebrate his success. The discarded robe didn’t mean anything sinister either. L’Artiste is generally a very messy worker and wasn’t wearing his tunic at the time. Sure enough, he soiled his robe and swapped it for a new one. Untidy as he is, he didn’t bother throwing the old one in the wash. You should have seen how excited he was about the outcome. He could hardly wait to get back to the gallery and hang the piece today.

I am a good sport, at least I think so, and primarily I am excited he found his spirits again. So I am happy to call it quits. But I certainly hope  that by tomorrow everybody will have forgotten the image.