rose_griffes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rose_griffes) wrote2009-11-08 10:27 am
rose_griffes) wrote2009-11-08 10:27 am
Entry tags:
SCC ficlet
As soon as I started watching episode 2.09 of The Sarah Connor Chronicles and saw Sarah's dress, I thought of this painting by Andrew Wyeth. It's not as close a match as I thought (different sleeves), but still...
Who me, stay up way too late to watch more show? Hah.
Okay, so maybe I do need a Sarah Connor userpic.
untitled short fic
That piece of the dreams she understood.
Sarah's ninth grade art teacher had gone through a series of slides, discussing different famous paintings. The first time she saw that one, Sarah had stared, trying to figure out what was wrong with it. The skinny arms of the woman--skinnier than her own, even then--the hill covered in dead grass, the sky barely visible, giving a feeling of claustrophobia.
She hadn't liked it, but she couldn't stop looking at it. Something-world was the title. Caroline's World. Catherine's World. She couldn't remember now.
Her art teacher--Ms. Fuller, emphasis on the title from her--had explained about the artist's neighbor with the leg paralysis and Sarah hated it even more. The hill appeared even steeper then, the house more distant.
Then one of the boys in the back, Jimmy or David or Bart, asked why Ms. Fuller didn't show them the naked pictures and instead of ignoring them like she usually did, Ms. Fuller had snapped, "When Americans stop being such prudes about nudity," and had gone on to the next slide.
Sarah didn't have to tell Doctor Sherman about the clothes she was wearing in the dream; the pale pink dress like the woman's in the painting. No legs meant no power, no escape, no getting away. You can't get away from the future, not by crawling. You can't protect your son.
Nothing you do will ever make a difference, and it's coming.
Who me, stay up way too late to watch more show? Hah.
Okay, so maybe I do need a Sarah Connor userpic.
untitled short fic
That piece of the dreams she understood.
Sarah's ninth grade art teacher had gone through a series of slides, discussing different famous paintings. The first time she saw that one, Sarah had stared, trying to figure out what was wrong with it. The skinny arms of the woman--skinnier than her own, even then--the hill covered in dead grass, the sky barely visible, giving a feeling of claustrophobia.
She hadn't liked it, but she couldn't stop looking at it. Something-world was the title. Caroline's World. Catherine's World. She couldn't remember now.
Her art teacher--Ms. Fuller, emphasis on the title from her--had explained about the artist's neighbor with the leg paralysis and Sarah hated it even more. The hill appeared even steeper then, the house more distant.
Then one of the boys in the back, Jimmy or David or Bart, asked why Ms. Fuller didn't show them the naked pictures and instead of ignoring them like she usually did, Ms. Fuller had snapped, "When Americans stop being such prudes about nudity," and had gone on to the next slide.
Sarah didn't have to tell Doctor Sherman about the clothes she was wearing in the dream; the pale pink dress like the woman's in the painting. No legs meant no power, no escape, no getting away. You can't get away from the future, not by crawling. You can't protect your son.
Nothing you do will ever make a difference, and it's coming.
no subject
I love the comparisons you're making here, slowly letting the reader know how the painting affecting Sarah and why. The last line is chilling. Awesome.
Ok ... must go poke around your BSG stuff :D
no subject
I thought SCC was one of the most amazing shows ever, and wish it had gone longer.
Ok ... must go poke around your BSG stuff :D
Good hunting! Heh.