Tag Archives: found art

Wildwood, 1942 (A Love Story)

Dear Diary,

I made it. Wildwood, New Jersey. The cousins’ house is beautiful, right on Central Avenue, and I even have my own room! It’s a shame I did not know, or I would have brought more to decorate with. All I brought was that one photograph of Charles, so I put it on my mirror and kiss it every morning when I wake up and every night before I sleep.

Oh, the cousins are calling me, it’s time for the beach! I’ll write more later.

Rebecca.

Dear Diary,

Frank, Beth and I were sitting outside on the patio when I met their neighbor, Margaret. They warned me she was a little weird. She lives across the street all alone, which is odd because she’s twenty-one (or so Beth says) and she works at some sort of factory off-shore. She’s a little bit shorter than I, but she liked my cardigan (it was a bit chilly, Frank said a cold breeze usually comes off the ocean at night) and asked me a lot of questions, especially about Charles. But I like talking about him, so I was pleased. She invited me to tea at her house tomorrow, and I accepted.

I still have to write Charles, but I can’t find the paper where I wrote the address where he’s stationed in Italy. Where on earth did I put it?

Rebecca

Dear Diary,

I had tea with Margaret, and we talked for hours! At first it was mostly about Charles, but then she started telling me about her life, her job (I can’t believe she really works, I thought Frank was pulling my leg). She says women should not have to depend on a man to live, which is an odd thing to say, but I guess she has a point. She works and has this house, so I guess it is okay.

We went for a walk on the beach, but Margaret does not own a bathing suit! I could not believe it. I offered to go shopping with her, but she did not seem to like the idea. She said she did not like being looked at by all of the men on the beach in that way. I always kind of liked it, but did not say anything. I did not want to hurt her feelings.

Now where did I put that address?

Rebecca

Dear Diary,

Sorry it has been a few days, but life has been exciting! Margaret has become my new best friend, and even though she is three years older than I, she seems to understand me. She works during the week, so I go to the beach with Beth (Frank goes with his friends, and usually they torment us a bit) and after dinner I go to Margaret’s to play cards. She is so interesting, I have trouble agreeing with her thoughts on life sometimes, but overall, she is fascinating. I’m supposed to leave in a day or two, but Margaret invited me to stay with her, so we will see.

Tonight Margaret took me to the boardwalk and treated me to some rides. We went on the ferris wheel and then the carousel, then she brought me to the shooting gallery. She is very good with a gun, she did not miss once! She even let me point out what she should shoot, and in the end gave me the teddy bear she won. I will sleep with it every night from now on.

Rebecca

Dear Diary,

I have decided to stay. Auntie did not like the idea of me moving in with Margaret, and even went so far as to call mother! But she did not have a problem with it, so I am sharing Margaret’s place. Beth and Frank have been whispering about me, I think. But I am excited to be living with a friend for the first time. We watch the television (usually Jack Benny) and she has also has been reading to me out loud! I usually fall asleep after a while, but really like the book she’s reading me (A Lost Lady by Willa Cather) and next she says she will read me a book called The Awakening, which should be fun since it takes place in a shore town. I do not know how she knows about these books or where she hears of them, but I enjoy what I have heard so far.

Last night I woke up on the couch and Margaret had fallen asleep too, right up against me. It felt nice since I was cold. I pulled an afghan off the back of the couch and wrapped us both up in it.

I finally wrote Charles a post card, but have yet to find the address. I may have to give up and call mother.  Maybe she can call his mother and get the address.

Rebecca

Dear Diary,

Margaret and I have taken to falling asleep on the couch every night. She reads to me until I fall asleep, and then must fall asleep soon after since I wake up every morning next to her. It is nice, and while I think my cousins disapprove (they have been visiting less and rarely ask me to the beach now). Auntie has been making an effort to invite me to lunch almost daily. She asks me lots of questions about staying with Margaret. I think she is a puzzle to them, nobody understands her. Auntie asks if she talks about any men, but I have to say I have never heard her mention any, except maybe someone named Sam whom I believe she dated. She does not speak of him often, but has slipped his name into conversation once or twice. He seems to be an old fling of hers who used to visit ever summer. I am worried he will visit soon (she said it is a possibility) because I am afraid he will take her away from me. She is the best friend I have ever had, and do not want to end up watching Jack Benny alone while she is out at the amusement park with him instead of me. Maybe she will invite me.

I got a letter from Charles, wanting to know how I am. I will get his address tomorrow, or the next day.

Rebecca

Dear Diary,

My fears have come true! Margaret came home today to find a note on the door from Sam. He is here for the week! I do not want to meet him, and Margaret seems uninterested in seeing him as well. I am not bringing him up at all for fear she will tell me that she will be busy with him all week. I hope not.

I found the note and read it, he signed off with “Love, Sam” which upset me. His writing looks a lot like mine, which is kind of odd.

I still need to call home and get Charles’ address. I feel terrible about it, but I am not sure what I would even tell him if I were to write him now.

Rebecca

Dear Diary,

All of my fears were silly! Sam is a girl. It is short for Samantha. And while I have to say she clearly does not like me, I am relieved. Although I am curious what made me think they were an item before. Samantha kept giving me dirty looks, and calling me Margaret’s girlfriend like it was a bad thing. Maybe I do not fully understand what is going on here.

I decided not to write Charles. I have nothing to say and can fill him in when I go home, whenever that will be.

Rebecca

Dear Diary,

Something has happened, dear diary, something I feel I can only tell you, the keeper of all of my secrets! Last night after a heated argument with Sam, Margaret was quiet. She sat in the kitchen for about an hour, and at first I thought she was crying and gave her space, but after a while I heard a crashing sound and I ran in to find her breaking dishes on the floor! I asked her what was wrong, and she said I would not understand. I sat down and refused to leave until she talked to me, and after a few minutes I realized her eyes were teary, and I knew I had to go to her and hug her. I was surprised to see her cry, she is such a strong woman.

So I went over and hugged her, and she pushed me away a bit, and then looked into my eyes. I’m almost afraid to even write this, but I know I can trust you, diary, and need to tell someone. She kissed me, hard on the lips. I was terrified and caught off guard. I did not expect it at all. I was a bit upset.

I am not upset with Margaret. I was troubled, and still am, because I liked it. And I did not stop her.

Rebecca

Dear Diary,

I’m sorry it’s been a few weeks! Everything has happened so fast. Margaret has taught me so much. I’ve gotten rid of the few dresses I had and am dressing more like Margaret now. A woman even asked us if we were sisters the other day! Margaret likes my new style, and I have to admit it is so uplifting to not worry about what boys think of me! I spend less time in my room primping and am really living life.

Also, I got a job! Margaret helped me, and now I work in the factory with her. I do not do anything with the machinery like she does, but I have an important job nonetheless. I am in shipping, where I make sure the packages are labeled correctly and they have the right contents. I got my first paycheck and took Margaret out for dinner to celebrate. My first paycheck, I never thought I would know the feeling of ‘bringing home the bacon’ as dad always called it. It makes me feel strong.

I have moved into the main bedroom with Margaret.

Rebecca

Dear Diary,

I could not ask for anything more. Life is better than I ever could have hoped! I am in love, I have a great job, and I have never felt so strong and independent. And I have Margaret to thank!

I asked her the other day what we were doing, and she explained that people all over the world are like us, but that they are forced to live in secret, which made me realize we too are keeping it a secret! She never holds my hand in public, and we only kiss in her house. I did not realize until now how hard these choices would make my life. But it is all worth it, I am in love with her, and she loves me (she told me last night!)

Work is great, I love it. I’ve been doing the food shopping since Margaret never has a lot of food in the house, and we have been cooking together. She has no idea what she is doing around the kitchen! I have been trying to teach her, but mostly give her easy jobs like cutting the vegetables or shucking the corn.

All is well. I am happy.

Rebecca

Dear Diary,

I am home now, and miserable. I’ve never felt so horrible in my life. It all started early this morning. There was a banging on the front door, and I jumped out of bed, my heart racing, and found my father at the door. He burst through, pushing me out of the way and waking Margaret, who came out in her pajamas.

He called her all kinds of names, words I have never even heard before, and she started trying to punch him. She gave him a shiner, but he refused to hit her back, he eventually just grabbed her wrists and pushed her onto the couch. Then he grabbed me and dragged me to the car, telling me to stay there while he gathered my belongings. I sat in the car out of fear. I feel stupid. I did not even get to say goodbye to her.

I could hear him yelling, and her yelling about how I was an adult and free to make my own choices. She followed him out as he carried my suitcase, hastily packed. Father got in and started the car, and she began yelling for me to get out of the car and stay. I started crying, but could not disobey my father. I waved goodbye and mouthed “I love you” to her, and she stopped chasing the car. My heart broke as I watched her get smaller out the back window.

I have not even left my room in the ten hours I’ve been here. When I opened my suitcase, the teddy bear she won for me that night was right on top, and I grabbed him and held him as tight as I could. My family has not said a word to me. My mother would not even look me in the eye, and did not even send up any food. Peter snuck me some cookies he had hidden in his room, and he told me he loved me, which made me cry more.

Now I am writing, and formulating my plan for tomorrow. There is a factory that hires women nearby, since there’s such a shortage of men ever since the war started. I will go there and try to get a job, and then I will start looking for my own place, save up money, and someday get back to Margaret. Wish me luck, diary.

Love,

Rebecca.

A Western-Style Ending

Created with a found photograph, a Brother Charger 11 and my imagination.

This and many other prints can be purchased at my ETSY now! Come check it out!

A Freak Storm

A Freak Storm was made from old films I bought at a yard sale, a G5 Macintosh and my imagination.

The Annual Dare

The Annual Dare

Created with a found photograph from the 1940s, my imagination and my typewriter.

Pollution in the Valley

This print, along with many others, can now be purchased at my ETSY!

The Cliff’s Edge

A found photograph with a dark, possibly evil story typed on it with my Brother Charger 11.

This and many other prints can be purchased now at my ETSY! Check it out!

I Want to See the World With You

“I want to see the world with you.”

Her gaze froze on me as a smile curled on her mouth.

“Really?”

“Yes. And not just that.”

She grabbed my hand and held it tight. “What else?”

I smiled. “What else…”

“Come on, don’t tease!” she said as she scooted up next to me and kissed me on the neck.

“I want to do so for a long, long time.”

Her smile faded and her eyes widened so much I could almost see my reflection in them. Her hand squeezed tighter and she put her free arm around me and pulled me in for a kiss.

“How long?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

I smiled at her and ran my hand through her hair in the back the way she liked it, and she gave me three short, quick kisses.

“Come on. Tell me what you mean!”

I smiled again, kissed her once, and whispered the answer into her ear.

Made with my Brother Charger 11 typewriter made on old sheet music I found at a yard sale.

Sweet Sixteen (1964)

This and many other original prints (including my stories) are for sale HERE.

A Faded Memory

This and many other prints I’ve worked with are now for sale at my ETSY! Come on by and check them out!

As his memory faded, our grandfather only seemed able to remember the good old days of his childhood.

(maybe it is better that way)

A Simple Piece of Paper

He woke up that morning and knew, just inexplicably knew he was supposed to get into his car and drive.  So he threw a dirty pair of jeans on over his boxers, an old orange t-shirt, and got into his cherry red Camaro.

He turned the key, revved the engine, and then pulled out, no clue where he was going.  How would he decide?  Would the car know?  Would fate just guide him?  He pulled the car out and a sudden honk made him jump, a passing car with a driver waving a fist at him as it passed.  He would have to be a bit more careful.

He pulled off of his street, and knew there was nothing in this small Pennsylvania town that would draw him out with such mystery and magic, so he headed right for the interstate, somehow fully aware that he had a long way to go, even though he had no real destination.  It was only a few minutes before he was driving on the highway, accompanied by only one other car, a blue Ford truck, about a mile ahead of him.  He drove until even the Ford was gone, and he was alone on the highway, not an oddity for this area at this time of day.  The sun had only been up for moments, and after all, it was a Sunday, most people were still asleep.  He looked up at the sun, wondering when the last time it was that he woke up this early any day of the week let alone a Sunday.

He saw an exit coming up, an unmarked one he’d never noticed before, and decided to turn off the interstate, this particular road made of dirt and pebbles, probably a truck exit or something, he figured.  The sun almost disappeared, the trees were so thick here, and as he continued down the road, if it could even be called that, he was jostled all over the front seat due to its giant potholes and general unevenness.  Something darted out in front of the car, a white blur, and so he slammed on the brakes.

Peeking over the dashboard, he turned off the radio, trying to see what it was that he’d quite possibly killed.  Seeing nothing, he got out and walked around to the front.  Lodged under the front tired was a large piece of paper, a map, most likely, so he got back in, backed the Camaro up a bit, then had to jump out and retrieve the paper as the wind took it again.

He chased it into the woods a bit, finally catching up with it as it was momentarily caught by a tree branch, snatching it up quickly before the wind could take it again.  He gently opened it, since it seemed old, and realized it was covered in writing.

As he read it, he became overwhelmed, spellbound, excited.  He could feel the world spinning, actually sense the movement under him, and he could see and hear every leaf in the woods move, every single little motion, he could hear the thoughts of a nearby bird searching out food for her babies, she seemed so scattered in her thoughts.  He suddenly knew, without a doubt, that down the road was a cabin where a family was just getting up to the smell of bacon and eggs, and farther than that a deer was eating a sapling, and a bit down from that a river ran where a bear was trying to catch a fish, and he was even fully aware that today, that bear would not catch that fish, and the fish would go on to have many children, but that the bear would not.

He couldn’t even fully understand what it was that he was reading, but he could see himself, fifty years down the road, a grandson on his lap, his wife, whom he recognized as a neighbor of his, cooking in the kitchen as his family, and some of hers, prepared for some sort of celebration.  He saw beyond that, wars, famines, tragedies, all in the future, he saw planes fall, men walking on Mars, tidal waves, love, he saw everything that would ever happen, understood it all, and suddenly realized what was happening.  He continued to read, and the longer he read, the more of the world he saw, and he wanted to stop but could not, he wanted to know it all before this moment went away, before whatever was happening stopped, he had to know.  He saw cities grow and change, buildings stretch higher, airplanes bigger, cars smaller, flying machines, floating buildings, crime, weapons beyond anything he ever knew could exist, and then, all of a sudden, he saw nothing.

He startled back to the woods at a nearby sound, and noticed a deer crashing through the woods, the same deer he’d seen eating only a moment, or maybe it was a day, a week, a month ago, he couldn’t tell.  He looked around, remembered where he was, when he was, and headed back to the car.  As he climbed back in, he suddenly remembered the paper in his hand, held it up in the air, and just let it go.  The wind took it off in an instant, and he watched as it floated up into the air, back down, and then into the woods and out of his sight.