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Defend you right to privacy!

Here I am! My name is Christine Parker and I was born in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. My father was a captain and my mum was just naïve. What was she thinking when she came aboard pregnant? Fortunately, I was delivered without any complications but my parents continue to surprise me. They are obsessed with the idea to make a match for me. I’ve got more calls a day than days in a week! That’s so annoying when somebody invades your personal life! I’m a magazine writer but it’s so hard to find the right words to convince my parents that a 46-year-old cemetery director isn’t my last chance in life! God give me strength to get along with my overcaring mum and dad!

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Our teamwork with Leonid Afremov!

A séance of imagination

You can ask me where I get inspiration for writing all that stuff. I have a rich imagination which is like a train. When a certain idea (a locomotive) comes to my mind, it makes my brain generate different thoughts connected with it (multiple coach cars). We can also compare this process with the creation of animated cartoons: the picture starts to move engaging more characters and thus the story gets a plot. Let me demonstrate how it works. We’ll experiment with night sea images, for instance. Close your eyes, sit comfortably and remember the last time you were at the seaside. No, no, don’t cry, I’m looking forward to a vacation too! So what was I saying? Ah, yes, you imagine a place where salty waves break against the rocks… Or maybe your sea is quiet and dreamy? You’re the artist here, so only you decide what to depict. Do you see people by the water or is the seascape lonely? Do you hear any sounds? Fix the picture in your memory and open your eyes. Now try to describe everything you just saw with words. No rejections accepted! Throw your laziness out of the window and follow three important steps:

  • Take a sheet of paper.
  • Take a pen or a pencil.
  • Just do it! Start writing!

 To see the invisible

You can even paint your story! I practice this method in order to reconsider the details. It’s easy to change something that you see with your own eyes. Especially when you have a rubber! It’s quite another matter when canvases inspire me to writing. It’s interesting to interpret the artist’s work in your own way and as a result create a new one. That’s what happened to me when I found Leonid Afremov’s online gallery and wrote a dozen of novels in a month. Cause it’s impossible to remain indifferent to his paintings! I adore the night sea here. First of all, the sky reminds me of a cake. Yeah, with tasty blueberry cream (don’t know other ingredients to make it blue). Inside the cake, there’s a yacht. What is it doing there? Just sailing. If you cut a piece of cake, you’ll eat part of the yacht. Sure, you can say it’s simply a seascape at sunset but aren’t you bored of yourself then? Afremov uses a lot of red in his work, so can you see a dragon flying above the yacht? Now you’ve got a beginning for a Chinese fantasy story! This artist’s canvases are very emotional and kindle a creative sparkle in people. Purchase one of the beautiful art pieces by Leonid Afremov and let your imagination soar!

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Secrets are never long-lived

My first sea voyage obviously affected my personality. I’m keen on adventures and don’t mind sailing. Actually, I like to tell other people about all kinds of scrapes I get into. That’s why the majority of the stories I write are based on real events. Ready to hear one of them? Then listen.  Once upon a time there lived a man who couldn’t ride a bike. He was ashamed to train at daytime when everybody would laugh at his multiple failures in the struggle against the iron monster. So he rode the bike at night, hoping nobody was watching him. However, once I was woken up by an incredible noise and loud curses coming from the street. I ran out in my pajamas and saw my neighbor lying on the sidewalk. I asked him: ‘Are you OK, Mr. Hopkins?’ He replied: ‘I’m not him’, stood up and limped straight to the Hopkins’ house. I giggled but didn’t say a word. The following night I was waiting for the injured cyclist to appear. He was riding slowly along the road, so I had to tiptoe. Though when the old man noticed me, he began to pedal faster and faster and I couldn’t catch up with him anymore. But in the morning he winked at me and said that I taught him to ride a bike. What? My pursuit made him good? Gotta buy him this bell: https://www.etsy.com/ru/listing/187828480/crow-feather-custom-brass-bicycle-bell. Let the old man rejoice!

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