Captured
Silhouettes
Stacy A. Foster
iUniverse, Inc.
Bloomington
Captured Silhouettes
Copyright 2012 by Stacy A. Foster.
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ISBN: 978-1-4759-3306-2 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4759-3307-9 (ebk)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2012910561
iUniverse rev. date: 06/11/2012
Contents
COLD AND UNDEAD WITH SCYTHE
SHARPENED JAWS
This is dedicated to my daughter and inspiration,
Amina Grey.
Stacy A. Foster, author of Quills Metamorphosis and Captured Silhouettes , was born in the Spring of 1971. She grew up in Dearborn Heights, Michigan, a Detroit suburb. As a child, she wrote stories and poems; beginning at age eight, she wrote a series of soap operas featuring her Elementary School friends.
Foster graduated from Central Michigan University with a degree in Broadcasting and she lives with her daughter in Northern Virginia.
Given that Stacy A. Fosters writing touches upon a variety of themes and emotions, readers often assume that her work is autobiographical. Some pieces are fictional, she shares. Im a woman with diverse interests. I hope that my readers relate personal meaning from my writings based on their own life experiences and unique perspectives.
In 2008 Shell, a work of Fosters, was published in the Expressions Poetry Anthology . Foster contributed to The Diary of an Angel international writing project. Additionally, in 2010, she had prose pieces published in Ethereal Erotica .
A special note of appreciation goes to Halkios for penning the foreword and Kevin Donahue (email: ) for creating the cover artwork.
Additionally, a special thank you goes to you, the reader, for your support.
In Captured Silhouettes , Stacy praises nature and pure love; she talks about existence and death, dreams and motherhood, and proclaims what she cherishes the most. She will foster qualities held captive in the seemingly featureless space within the outline of a silhouette. She will place questions into the readers mind until the reader becomes the hero of her captive narrative.
My story continues breathing day by day, but have I positively impacted reality in any way? Motherhood was the gift that I cherished the most; am I now done with milestones after being the host? . . .
The reader is like a sailor trapped in an ambivalent closed sea, the silhouettes surface on a wherry hit by raging cognitive waves seeking out the shore, the emphasized outline the only horizon the sailor sees.
And when the mind is troubled and questions, Stacy carefully conveys it to a fair end, an epic end for a short prose
Quietness muffles hardened voices, a gesture of calming capturing silhouettes in a concentration of existing; still.
Knowing thy self is accomplished when the journey is over, when the features are outlined, exposed by her luminous attendance and patience, all the way from the beginning it is when she gives the silhouette back its freedom in a dear collection of an anthology of prose, of her life and yours.
Stacy A. Foster cuts out gentle portraits in profiles (once this worlds most delicate method of portrait making before the times of photography); she describes the soul in a deep and conscious artistic endeavor. Through this familiar way, she looks back to the past, extrapolating emotion, capturing silhouettes in her mind, and delivering on their personage the rebirth of resonance with life.
She is a member of the Diary of an Angel community which revolves around a book that travels around the world (already more than five years distributed) and ends approximately this year, 2012, in Cyprus, with a collection of over of 364 pages of creative writing, poetry, photography, music, and art from 91 different individuals living in different parts of the world.
In this journal Stacy wrote her testimony, her memories and dreams, on its pages, when it was passing by Virginia in late Spring of 2010. She was given a hunter green feather pen to remind her of the Diarys passing.
Stacy A. Fosters entry will be showcased in a future publication of the Diary and through an exhibition of its photographic contents in Cyprus late 2012; she has a dedicated page and profile under the Official Website Page of The Diary of an Angel, under 91 Artist of the City of Gold as Virtual Flower Chapter 26, Room 613 of the City of Gold.
Halkios
Halkios is a poet and photographer of Cypriot origin, and he is currently living in Athens, Greece. He is also a videographer, and in his projects that he calls halkoems, combines music and graphics with video and wall art taken from poetic extracts, or complete poems, short stories, and other art pieces or works made by himself or his collaborations. He developed the Diary of an Angel project in 2008, based on his autobiography since 2004, and sent out an invitation to his internet friends to join him in this adventure; they were the ones he felt spiritually connected to.
The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Stimulating is a longing that weaves the air we breathe, inspiring reciprocations in need, a naked skin soaking up the words we bleed. Music of the mind is a symphony that will transcend time signed, leaving the doubts of wandering souls behind. Stifled is the man who cannot feel it, wasting time on those who conceal it. Write it if you cannot speak it; share it with those who seek it. Join the celebration in documentation, happiness in transformation, a released spirit of freedom composed.
Greens are soulmates of sin, cradled until disintegration does all in. Violence for cash ignites desperation, the tale beginning in a terrorized nation. Explosions burst condemned roofs, stripping like ladies of the night servicing the aloof. The minuscule are defined by law, shoved into corners with those labeled small. Bonuses seep through holed pockets the lazy will not mend, a senseless waste in selfish spend.
Greens drift through frenzied eyes and hands, sweaty palms grasping on sides of catastrophic ends. Animalistic attempts to raise broken chins slip from punctured hearts, stitching bruised skins. Greens force people to be lean, the ravished fed only in dream; wander amongst crumpled faces and you will see what this means. There they lie in squandered debris, multiplied and divided by numbers decreed. Bleeding the Benjamins at electrifying speeds, the criminals are the crafty ones fulfilling their needs.
Menacing creatures whirl through the air, inventing potions for those without care. Blending cocktails on high for monetary needs, the mischievous bestow drinks of confidence in quantified misdeeds. They care for themselves while they smile vainly at reflections, proud of selfish achievements without introspections. Powdering crooked noses to hide a green boil, they mask troubles in threes full of turmoil. Cackle away, greedy vessels called humans; one day karma will spit you out in ruins. Will you have friendships to stitch your broken pieces? Consider this now before all compassion ceases. You may regret the actions of a naive ego misled. Repent! Upgrade your character, live honorably instead.
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