The Daily Scroll was created for visitors who want to learn more about all three. It’s bursting with imaginative micro-articles, cartoons & passages from the writings of authors & artists.

Fantasizing,Fotos,Fridays offer pictures chosen to stimulate our imaginations, awaken inspiration & allow creativity free rein to invent theories or micro-stories based on what we see. Imagination-Exercising entries--which appear on whatever day they feel like--provide a few words as inspiration for our creativity. Both are fun!

Please comment below when inspired by ideas, suggestions or reactions!

Or email me at,

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Fantasizing Fotos Not-a-Friday #3

There's no need for you to share the specifics of the mystery or of the explanation you seek.

Are you searching for a mystery? Or for an explanation? Or something else?

If you find either within this forest, in what form will they be?

Do you see anything else or anyone else either before or after your search?


Remember to think about the picture and imagine what is going on
before looking at what I wrote. No two people will imagine the same thing.

That would be weird.


Please accept my apologies!

I posted this prompt to our imaginations as soon as I saw the picture so I have yet to muse on my own responses.

I'll post about what I imagined later today.

Photograph borrowed from Grace Bridges' FaceBook page. Thanks, Grace!

Saturday, March 21, 2015

Fantasizing Fotos Not-a-Friday #2

I didn't expect to post an entry today. The official arrival of Spring and my good friend Demaris had other ideas.

Demaris sent me a fun Jacquie Lawson animated card showing a "Many-Bunnied plus Labrador Prima-Ballerina ballet" set to  "The Waltz of the Flowers".  I love the cards Demaris sends from that site! 

I also appreciate how Jacquie Lawson provides recipients with an easy way to respond.

Below is a jiggery-pokeried version of the spring landscape artwork used on today's free Jacquie Lawson thank you card.

Ambiguous pictures work best when it comes to stimulating our imaginations but structured images also work.  All we have to do is give our imaginations a nudge or two. For instance we can try asking ourselves a question beginning with one of the following,

Who? What? Why? When? Where? Or use any other prompt that appeals to you.


As always, remember to think about the picture and imagine what is going on
before looking at what I wrote. No two people will imagine the same thing.
That would be weird.


I tried the reporter's friends: who, what, why, when, where, but not in that order. It was only partially successful.
Who?  (beats me)
What? (well, it's a house...)
Why? (Why what? Stop that! I already answered "what?". Well, sort of)
When? (Ooh! I know! Spring!)

Likely in an agricultural region, though sometimes well-off suburbanites choose to build farmhouse-like houses. Not this house though, for at least two reasons: There's so garage and, so far as I can tell, no driveway. The path on the left is wide-ish but nowhere near wide enough for a car.

Speaking of the path, what is it made of? First thought: concrete old enough to allow a bunch of grass around each rectangle. Or maybe just the ground trodden flat and bare from a lot of use? On the other hand, look at how light the bare soil is! Is it really dry? If so, that seems out of sync with the healthy vegetation. Wait! Back up! Bare ground could look like this after just a couple weeks without rain. No need to imagine a drought! 

Enough "where"? I'd love to know geographically where but I'll let my subconscious work on it.

Backing up one question. 

When? Not recent--again based on the lack of a garage or a driveway. I'm going in circles --orbiting garages.

Wouldn't it be cool to see a bit more of what's in front of this picture! Except I don't need to. There's an actual road there, passing right to left, but it's not close. Drivers would be able to see the house.

Or, people in carriages? Yeah... No. Not that recently but the house is old enough to remember a time of horses and early automobiles. Look at the hint of English Tudor architectural detail under the eaves.

Maybe there's more of the Tudor design behind that huge green bush.  I don't think I like the bush! For one thing, it blocks my view of the front of the house so I'm left wondering about the Tudor design. Except it has to be there, doesn't it? There's a hint of it--to the right of the bush that intends to eat the front wall of the house.

That's all for now.

(By the way, someone needs to remove the oleander. It's pretty but--like ivy--it tends to do a number on structural integrity.  Oh, north England?)

Friday, March 13, 2015

Fantasizing Fotos Fridays #11

What Do You See?

I chose three fine art fabric creations today, all taken from
I hope that you'll play with all three of them!

What do see you in each exquisite sample of craftsmanship that the artist may never have envisioned?

Each work has a label giving information about its title and about the person who made it. You might want to read the labels after immersing yourself in the artwork, the better to give your Imagination free rein. 

Remember to think about the picture and imagine what is going on
before looking at what I wrote. No two people will imagine the same thing.
That would be weird.


Abstract Landscape Tree Fiber Art

Jacque Beck - Jacque Textile Designs Ltd

Hand Created Fabric Artist Panel Abstract Landscape Tree Fiber Art Quilting

Found on (out of stock)

Binary Fission
Betty Busby - Binary Fission - some gorgeous close ups of fine stitch work on this website

I'll Take Door Three

I'll Take Door #3 Monty art quilt by Esterita Austin | Fiber Artist.


My Thoughts

Abstract Landscape Tree 

I'm enamored of trees whether real or in art so I had to post the picture of this textile. Sorry 'bout that.

I have little doubt this is part of a swamp--the reflection of dim sunlight--very possibly the reddish hues of sunset give it away. Once I "saw" the tussocks and scummy floating plants pretending to be reflections on the surface of the water, I really couldn't see anything else.

Having our imaginations constricted so quickly can be a bummer but it's my fault for choosing a picture that wasn't sufficiently ambiguous.

When I was young, my family would travel south to visit relatives. Back then, we had no choice but to drive through what was called the Dismal Swamp. Further south, is the huge Okefenokee Swamp, home to cypress their branches often burdened with something called Spanish Moss. After all these years, I only know the words and have no clear image of what I could see back then out of the back window of our car.

Having established that much to me semi-satisfaction, I began wondering about the rosy light in the middle of the textile. I simply couldn't think of the light as emanating from sunset. For one thing the brightest light shafts down at a sharp angle. So too early for sunset. The rosy-pink hue failed to convince me that it was sunlight filtered through earth's atmosphere. I said "failed to convince me" since I'm not about to say that sunsets never glow with this particular hue. 

Still... I think this warm glow comes from some other source. See how solid the surface is directly behind the single beam of light? Beats me what that is. Probably not a door. An odd-shaped mass of stone rising above the water? Well, maybe... In which case, what are those two (or is it three?) black objects bolted to--maybe growing out of--the stone?

Hmm. Don't know. Or rather, I can't imagine...

Binary Fission

The first thing I imagined was an aerial photograph of the river's floodplain. I'm not ruling that out; however, I began to wonder if a river which created such a floodplain could have dried up entirely. Its surface refused to appear muddy. More like nearly dry mud. And my floodplain wanted to be fissured rocks.   

I didn't like this at all so I started over. My Imagination kindly cooperated. I realized that I was looking straight up rather than down. Already much better!

Hah! The black "cracks" were tree twigs, the fine texture between them leaves--mostly likely spring leaves not yet unfurled.

The brown "branch" troubled me briefly. (It wanted to be pesky no matter what my Imagination came up with.)

I told it that this was a birch and, before it could protest, that the topmost branches of a birch always appeared darker than sky filtering through immature leaves! Hah!

Seriously though, that's what I think I remember from decades ago,  when I would take my breaks just outside where I worked nearly surrounded by birch trees. White bark at the bottom silhouetted by dark-green leaves of ground cover--the reverse contrast high up in the branches.

Sigh. I used to love taking breaks out there!

I'll Take Door Three

There's no way I could force my Imagination to un-see a door. 

Seriously don't ever force your Imagination to see something besides what it gloms unto when you look at something. Otherwise, you've stopped imagining.

No. I didn't force my Imagination to see something different when looking at "Binary Fission".

So, a door. I liked the stones serving as the door frame with larger almost foundation stone blocks at the base. Notice how the steps are not just uneven? The surfaces are actually a bit concave. So old steps, suggesting that the door frame is equally old. The wrought iron handle and hinges on the door confirm this. 

Why is there a narrow bit of stone on either side of the arch about two-thirds of the way up from the steps? Maybe the original mason determined these to be necessary? Maybe these are repairs? Beats me. 

Meanwhile, I kept getting distracted by the black edges of the textile--particularly the concave wedges at the top on either side.

Mundane explanation? The craftman's decision.

Imagination's theory? I was about to step out of a lightless tunnel into a brief patch of daylight before opening to door and walking inside. What's inside?

I don't know. Actually the door refused to open no matter how hard I tugged on the ring.  No keyhole. Bummer!

Hmm. What are those thin wedges of stone? Do they hold the secret to opening the door?


What did you see? Please tell us below.

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Have You Ever Wished a Story or Piece of Music Would Never End?

Kellan Publishing asked, "How Many Times Have You Read a Book and Wished It Never Ended?"

I thought this an intriguing question. I was eager to jot down a dozen answers--even more--because I assumed it would be easy to do so.

Answering wasn't as easy as I thought. The best authors gift both short stories and novels with realistic characters embroiled in fascinating plots. Many such stories require an ambiguous or even a tragic ending. An ending appropriate to the tale that has gone before. Do we really wish such tales would never end?

Or was Kellan Publishing also asking readers to think of tales that when we reach the last word, we have an urge to flip back to the title page and begin reading the book all over again?

I feel that way about "The Wind in the Willows". I love the animal characters! The plot or really the series of plots don't matter as much to me.

I no sooner lifted the lid of Kellan's "Never-Ending Story" chest just a crack when dozens of questions escaped. Every one of them whispered their need for my attention.



Within just Fiction, we may treasure:
1. Tales, of any length we truly wish would never end; Where reading the last words prompts the impulse to guess what happens next.

2. Tales, where those traditional two words conceal an invitation to flip back to page one and immerse ourselves even more deeply in the author's world. Just because we love the story, in the same way that a child does when they ask that it be read to them over and over again. As adults, perhaps we begin at the beginning looking for hints about motives and plot we missed in our first reading or to take the time to actually read the description we skipped. Or to savor a superbly-written passage for its beauty rather than its role in furthering the story.

3. Tales, where when we reach the last page, we can't help wonder, "what would have happened if there was more?..."

Examples, I'm so glad that everything worked out for such-and-so protagonists but I wanted to hang out with them long enough to:
share their delight in doing what they had always hoped to do--free of former doubts or guilt,
just being together at last,
or unburdened by the daily threat of mortal danger

What fiction, whether books or stories or poems,
has evoked one or more of these urges in you?

Or some entirely different impulse?


Here were my immediate reactions, all chosen quickly and very much subject to change or additional candidates.

Type #1:
C.S. Lewis' "Perelandra" because it is set in an exquisite world, literally a paradise filled with lifeforms I only wish I could experience in the flesh rather than reading about in a book. Once a certain alien presence is conquered, who would not wish to stay there a while longer?

Type #2:
The Princess Bride (because why not?);
Finding Angel by Kat Heckenbach (a chance to savor details, mysterious wordings, and above-all sublime beauty somehow evoked with mere words;
The huge collection of fairy tales written by George MacDonald. So many that by the time the reader finishes the last tale, she really does need to begin again with the first one

Type #3:
Alpha Redemption, P.A. Baines, (What would have happened, has the ending been different? If only I could envision it!;
"Of Missing Persons", by Jack Finney. (No! I want "the other version" you didn't write, Jack! What would it have been like?);
Barbara Hambly's fantasy trilogy, Silent Tower, Silicon Mage, Dog Wizard. After suffering so much with our protagonists, BH owes her reader another Dog Wizard chapter in which we have a chance to see those protagonists together and finally free of danger

Type #4:
Here are my choices for fiction works ending exactly where they should, thereby quelling an immediate desire to reread them, or try to guess what happens next:
C.S. Lewis' Narnia;
Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit and especially his "Leaf, by Niggle";
The novels of Charles Williams, Susan Cooper and Patricia McKillip. And likely the works of many other authors once I have more time to about this.



Kellen Publishing restricted their question to works of fiction. But what about non-fiction? When you think about it, there's a huge amount of great writing we lump together as non-fiction. Essays, biographies, memoirs or family histories, travel diaries, histories of towns, regions and long-standing traditions, religious tests and tracts; accounts of famous scientific or medical discoveries; museum art catalogs... And don't forget your favorite user's manual! 

#1  Can you think of any non-fiction works where the end prompts you to reread the book, essays or personal account?

Or go back to the beginning and look for all the family-trees, replicas of documents, diagrams, art thumbnails, maps, etc

#2  Or non-fiction where you wish the author had added more details, perhaps another chapter, or an extrapolation of what might happen next?

#3  Or, since the author didn't provide it, you find yourself envisioning whatever you feel is lacking in their work?

What non-fiction works have evoked one or more of these urges in you?


My Choices for Non-Fiction.  I settled on these quickly so I "reserve the right" to add new titles, subtract something, or multiply.

Type #1. I feel this way about nearly every collection of C.S. Lewis' Essays;  

Type #2. Uh... Well... The Book of "Revelation". For the record, I know this is strictly forbidden and that the next chapter isn't actually missing--just delayed;  

Type #3. My choice here is Konrad Z Lorenz' "King Solomon's Ring". I've always suspected KSR is lacking potential chapters, each one an untold account of Many other personal experiences Lorenz shared with animals.



What about Music?   I thought of four urges with which I've been bitten when listening to music.  Did I miss any reaction that you have had to a particular piece of music?

#1  Wishing it would never end;

#2  Needing to sing along even if I don't know the words.

#3  Feeling the tempo prompt me to dance. And giving in--in spite of that abandoned project on the tablet.

#4  Clicking replay just as the last note sounds.

Sorry. I don't have time to find personal examples for music. 

Or Amazon Links for cited titles. (Later!)