Hello there!

I am very pleased to announce that Roy gave me an HD for this blog. ^_^ I’ve been having a rather average couple of days (came down with a rather nasty tummy bug a few days ago), so it certainly upped my mood when I read Roy’s comments:

“You are creativity on steroids, Ela. Your blog is a wonderful mix of creative writing talent, insightful thoughts, humour, some well chosen visuals and some very skillful artwork (I like Anna and vanilla). Overall: very well done :)”

Yay! Thankyou Roy. 😀

Also, just because there is not nearly enough street art in this blog, I am going to add a smidge more.


Awesome art I found in the city



Did some watercolours over the weekend, and this one is my favourite. Her name is Anna, and she loves the smell of vanilla.


I have thoughts of how she is incorporated into my artefact, though I know I’ve technically already submitted this blog. Anna is Devlin’s sweetheart, but she died just before the story takes place. All Devlin has left of her is the locket she gave him as a gift, and so when Thorne accidentally grabs the locket in the stabbing scene, that sets Devlin off for revenge.

It’s dark, but that’s ok.

Now to finish writing this artefact. I’m so close to finishing it, but I’m worried that I won’t have enough word space. Same problem every time haha.


I have achieved!

Hello wonderful readers,

I worked all day yesterday on my artefact, writing and editing and rewriting and re-editing. There is still stacks to do, but I’m really pleased with where I am with it. I’m beginning to think I may run out of words! Editing is my friend, believe me.

Unfortunately, this will be my last post before I officially hand this blog in, as I am spending the weekend away with some friends and won’t access the internet until Monday, the day after this is due.

So, I bid you farewell. Thank you for perusing through characters and ramblings and excellent songs with me. I have absolutely loved it. ^_^

Signing off for the last time,

Ela Colangelo

P.S. One last excellent song before I head off. This was on repeat most of yesterday, and it’s good for background work music. It’s called Kiss the Sky by Shawn Lee’s Ping Pong Orchestra, featuring Nino Mochella. I discovered it through playing Borderlands, and I think it is quite excellent.



The End

Character Development

Hello there,

While listening to My Life by Bliss n Eso (excellent song), I have come up with some character concepts.

So this chap here is Thorne Neosang. He worked on his family farm. He is cheerful and humorous, and is always teasing and joking when he is not working. He is a little superstitious, and this comes out when his cousin, Devlin, comes to live on the farm for ‘character building’. He means well, but can be tactless. He throws his head back when he laughs.


This is Devlin Corday. The most startling thing about him is his eyes; one blue and one brown (though the picture does not show this well), and this unnerves Thorne. Devlin is a merchant’s son, and has been brought up well. He is finer mannered than his cousin, and loves to draw. This creates conflict with the rest of the occupants in Thorne’s village, as it is not becoming for a man to dabble in the arts. Devlin does not understand Thorne’s sense of humour, and mistakes it as Thorne mocking him. He rubs the back of his neck when he is uncomfortable.


I’m pretty excited about my artefact. I’ve got nearly 2000 words, which is a good start.


More Writing Exercises

Hello there,

I realise I have not written for quite a while, and I apologise for that. On the bright side, I’ve got some writing bits and pieces that I did in class today.

This is a scenario where two women met in a street but one had stolen the other’s boyfriend.


I saw Sarah first, sashaying towards me in her tacky heels, her rose gold hoops shining too much in the struggling sunlight. We used to be friends, back in our senior year. Boys had always liked her, and she’d always liked the attention.

“Come on, Sal,” she would giggle playfully at me. “Come out with us. Ya need to loosen up.”

She always said that, “ya”. Such an annoying word.

But, I did go out with them, just that once. Jerry was so lovely, with a dimple in his cheek and nutty brown hair. He liked me, even with my strange horsey laugh that compared nowhere near Sarah’s cute Tinkerbell giggle. He liked me.

Of course, she got jealous. Why wouldn’t she, I mean she didn’t have the attention for once. So, in her petty way, she stole him. Used her vixen charms, her cute laugh. Stupid Tinkerbell.

Urgh, she’s seen me. Why. Whyyyyy. Do I have to talk to her? Maybe if I walk faster, she won’t talk to me-

“Hey Sal, how are ya?”

My teeth clenched. You, not ya. Learn to speak, woman. I forced a smile that was as fake as her acrylic nails.

“I’m single, thank you Sarah. How are you?”



This is a picture of Sarah, which I drew at church the other week. I quite like her sassy smile.

Of course, once I’d written the piece, I realise that I could have avoided the biggest cliche all together and written about the pretty girl losing her boyfriend to the normal girl, but by then it was too late.

In class, we also discussed what made a character and how could we portray said character. This is what Roy had up on the board:

Interpretation: by the author/ audience

Appearance: physical details embody a character’s psychology

Action: habitual behaviors; cracking knuckles, biting nails, etc.

Thought: asset of fiction (can’t be done in film). Can be used directly or indirectly.

Speech: reveals personality and opinions through attitudes, beliefs, educational levels and class background.


That is all for now. Now to do some work on the artefact.











I am speaking on behalf of historical Ela, aka, yesterday morning at 9am.

So. You know when you work super, super hard on an assignment to get it in on time? All the planning, drafting, rewriting, and editing. All the socialisation that you missed out on (“sorry Daniel, I’d love to play Fallout 4 at yours [legit, Fallout 4 is actually awesome], but I gotta study”). You stay up late to finish the last little details and the reference list, even when you’re drained from your late dance class, then wake up early the next morning just to do one final proof read. You nod determinedly, look up the assignment drop box to hand it in (a whole day early! Yasss), when you see it.

Your eyes widen. Your jaw drops. Your hand touches your brow in the face-palm of defeat. You skim it again, daring to believe it, those terrible words which render all your sacrifices meaningless.


Arghhhh, the agony! The horror! Fallout 4, how I miss thee!

Now, if only I could take that extension and use it on another assignment due this week, that would be excellent. But alas, I must hereby return to dry readings and scurried words before I get too distracted on this blog.

Farewell from a drama queen,





It’s all coming together


Well, I have finally come up with a whole plot after a good couple of hours of essay writing and brainstorming (and excellent study music). The video below is a mash up of two songs, and I absolutely love it.

With the story, I’ve taken elements from an old skeleton plot and reinvented them into something I hope is postmodern. Even better, I’ve got it all down on a page in a clear format to reduce confuzzlement* at a later date.


As well as this, the trees are glowing at the moment, and it’s very pretty. One of my favourite things is when you have a moody sky in the background, but it’s lit up by a golden tree. Gum trees look the best.


Anyway, back to this essay I go.


*Confuzzlement = to be so confused about a particular matter that your head feels fuzzy. This is not fuzzy in a pleasant way, either. Can lead to frustration.

Lightbulb Moment!

Hello there,

I’m putting the graffiti/ jar of teeth girl away for now and instead am running with a rediscovered plot I created ages ago. It needs a lot of work, but at least I have a decent skeleton to work with.


I really want to experiment with a story within a story, but am not quite sure how to go about it. Perhaps if I make it “readerly” in the beginning of the artefact? Or in second person?

There will be story-telling characters (who may potentially be ghosts, I’m working on that), but instead of them telling a story to another character, they’ll tell a story to the reader. The reader goes to the No Name Cafe (after noticing the graffiti around, and themes like that) AND THEN THE STORY TELLING HAPPENS. That’s how it works, right?


Maybe the No Name Cafe is a book cafe or something, where you order coffee and pick out a book from the cute little library. There’s cushions everywhere and a little fireplace, with cosy armchairs and window seats. The cafe walls are the colour of blushing apples, with portraits of 18th century lords and ladies on the walls. It’s a quirky spot, a little odd and disjointed* from reality (like time stops?), but it is cheerful and welcoming, and what the heck, it’s freezing cold outside and you just need a place to hole up for the next hour or so while the storm blows out.


Ok, so it’s a cold, blustery day outside. You’re hurrying through the streets of your city, dodging puddles and hunching into your coat. The frosty lights of shop windows glimmer invitingly at you, but the wind bites. You shiver, scrunching your coat tighter, when you notice the name of one of the cafes. Rather, you notice the lack of a name on the cafe. You frown, curious. The wind paws at your jacket, and you nearly turn away, but then the hail starts and you’re forced to go inside, if only to avoid concussion from the icy grenades.


BAM. Intro of story. 🙂 Ok, it needs a lot of work, but I’m pretty happy with this light bulb moment.


*post modernism, from what I understand, is all about disjointedness and fragmentation. Barry even says that postmodernism plays around with “bizarrely colourful mixtures of imagery, viewpoint, and vocabulary” (p. 81). Thus, if I mix up the view points in the artefact (2nd person for the reader, 3rd person when the story teller starts telling stories, 1st person inside the stories), and the chronology is not linear, and the artefact shows this postmodernism, right?






Hello again,

Today in class, we were told to pick one of the topics on the board and write some paragraphs on it. I, along with the majority of my class mates, chose to write about hands.



“I’m a writer,” he murmured. She glanced at their swaying fists as they shook hands. His grip was firm, authoritative. Callouses pressed at her soft palm, scratching a little. His palm was warm and sturdy, as tough as her brother’s dreadful cupcakes back when he didn’t know how to cook. Muscles and veins bunched under her fingers. This man certainly did not have the hands of one who sat at a computer all day.

“Do you have any hobbies?” she asked with a smile, trying not to show intimidation. His grip tightened, his pale eyes glimmering as he smirked back.

“I’m afraid my occupation doesn’t allow time for hobbies, dear. Deadlines, you know the drill.”

“Of course,” she stiffly inclined her head and his grip loosened. She stole another glance as he pulled his strange hands away. In horror, she noted the deep slash extending across the back of his knuckles, partially healed and scabbed over. He caught her looking and smirked again.

“You’re a curious one, aren’t you,” he said softly. Unhelpful warmth scurried over her cheeks and he chuckled. He fished in his pockets for something, and her breath caught.

“Worse than a cat,” she replied as steadily as she could. He laughed, his empty voice throwing itself around the courtyard and erupting a flock of pigeons into the sky. He quietened, looking into her eye as he pulled out a set of gloves.

“You’re not dead, yet.” He gave her one last look before sliding the gloves on, hiding the strength of his fingers and the crimson slash. “Keep it that way.”


Character sketches ^^

Also, some more bits and bobs for funsies:


Spaghettification = the process by which an object would be stretched and ripped apart by gravitational forces by falling into a black hole.

Argute = shrewd

Frigorific = chilling, of a cold nature

Pernickity = fussy about appearance


Post Modern Texts


You there. You. Reading this. Yes you. Don’t look at her. I’m talking to you, not her. Why are you still looking at her? Don’t.



Wat. No. Nooo Now is the tiem for the misunderestimating of tiem itself. Whar then. Whar did all mei tiem go This is mei tiem, mien. Boom! Ded.


That’s all for now,










The Gap

I’ve done it! I’ve figured out the gap I want to write about!

It will be a story that isn’t doom and gloom, something that isn’t post apocalyptic and filled with hopelessness. I want to write something care-free.


Don’t get me wrong, it’s not going to be airy-fairy and boring either. There’s going to be danger and excitement, the thrill of adrenaline and all that. That girl got her jar of teeth from somewhere, and people are still graffiti-hopping. Maybe that stream of consciousnesses, with the ramshackle stone ruins is one of the worlds graffiti-hopping leads to.


Maybe these worlds only exist if their doorways do, and so ancient civilizations are at risk by the council clean up. Ooooh, the possibilities.

The first scene, I can just see it. It’s a green urban corner, down a little alleyway. There’s a cafe tucked away under the canopy of trees, and our protagonist, a young woman, is waitressing away (yes, waitressing is a verb now). The girl with the jar of teeth appears. I still need to figure out her game. I can feel it all ticking away, I just have to unravel it.

I’m so excited for this. I think post-modernism would work quite well. I’m gonna fracture up the time line of the story, to keep with the theory. There has to be something ironic in the story too. Maybe the jar of teeth girl is an ironic tooth fairy or something. Maybe not.

I’ll work on that.

I’m so excited about this! Now I just have to write this essay…