Tag Archives: Ingrid Prohaska

Spotlight: Thank You

9 Dec

December 9, 2011

One of the pleasures of Mob Week has been that I have been able to sit back and read my own blog as a fan. When I contacted the amazing people who I hoped would participate (and I had not a single no), I knew that each one had a specialty or special talent, but I didn’t know what they would send. Just as you opened the page every day without knowing what the topic would be, so did I open my email. I am proud to say that I was thrilled each and every time. Did I expect to feature a trio of artists, a pair of musicians, and a diverse group that included professional writers and actors? While I had hopes, I really didn’t expect it. Did I expect to feature a treatise on the meaning of pulp? A scholarly argument against the TSA? Viennese legends? The Simpsons? And my very own installment of A Spot of Bother?

No I did not.

And to the readers, and to everyone who commented, I thank you especially, because not only did I accomplish one thing I set out to do- create a sense of community- but I accomplished something I didn’t expect. I got to personally see through a friend’s eyes how much your likes and comments touched her and made her happy. She’d never experienced that level of engagement before. I’d gotten a bit jaded by obsessively checking the stats all day. I’d forgotten how it felt to get that first feeling of acceptance. I’m glad I got that reminder.

On the surface, this week must have seemed like an easy ride for me. After all, I wasn’t worried about coming up with a topic and writing a blog everyday. I had people doing the work for me. Sweet scam, right?

Wrong. The truth is that I worked harder for Mob Week than any week of Imponderables ofrmonth of Saturday Comics. I won’t bore you with the details but this was a lot- a lot!- more behind the scenes work than I anticipated. And suffice it to say that every Mob Week contributor had the patience of a saint for answering all of my emails.

However, I started out talking about pleasure. Dare I say, “But I digress?” I found that besides just reading the posts, I had the unexpected pleasure of writing the intros. Some were longer than others, but all were from the heart and every word was true. I didn’t expect to love writing them as much as I did.

Am I jealous of Jeff Lynch?
Of course I am.

Is Mac of BIOnighT the most interesting man in the world?

Does Joe McTee’s scholarship put me to shame?
Sadly, it does.

Would I make a deal with an evil spirit to write like Matt Cowan?
Where do I sign?

Is Mike Mongello the Number One pin-up artist around?
You’ve seen them, and he is.

Is Nutty Nuchtchas entwined in the world wide web in a way I only dream of?
Big time.

Do I really think Ingrid Prohaska should be required reading and listening?

Does Threedayfish put my mental movie database to shame?
In a big way.

Do I have a spot in my heart for the mysterious Savage Opopanax?
Seriously, we all do.

Should all of you run to Relic Radio and talk to Jim in his forums?
Yes! NOW!

Could I ever hope to out-act or out-entertain Peter Church?
I won’t even try.

And did Jessica May really move me?

Do I owe all of them a debt of gratitude?
And do I owe all of you who visited this site a huge thank you?
Yes I do.

Thank You.

Spotlight: Ingrid Prohaska

30 Nov

November 30, 2011

Sit back and relax, Dear Readers. If you are reading this on your phone or mobile device I welcome you, but I also suggest that you find a place to sit down and get comfortable for a while. In fact, before we go on, go ahead and bookmark this page. When you get to the end of this post you’ll see why. In fact, let me give you some advice. Don’t.

Don’t get to the end in one sitting.  Take your time, come back to this over a few days. Pause. Savor it. Find that quiet and comfy spot and prepare to stay there for a while. But you’ll be there in body only. Your spirit is taking a little trip.

A trip to Vienna….

“Hi, my name is Ingrid and I’m very happy to be a mobster.

My main work is writing poetry and short stories; to publish my precious pieces I run a blog – “DancingElla’s Words“.

Some of you might know me as a legend teller on FlashCast. The idea came up when I read a blog post by JRD Skinner and almost at the same time he told me about his interest in Vienna. This reminded me of my old love in these legends and so I’ve started to transform the Austriagerman originals into English. You can find them all at “Viennese Legends“.

Finally a huge thanks to bmj2k for his invite!
I hope you’ll enjoy the selected potpourrie of my work and you’ll have an entertaining time.”

  • Legends

A legend about a junker, his vices and how to get a magical coin …
“The Heckthaler”

A bone house is the location of this creepy legend …
“Revenge of the Dead”

In ancient times three little devils played their mischievous tricks on the Viennese in and around St. Stephen’s church …
“The Three Little Devils”

  • Poetry

“Broken Mirror”
by Ingrid Prohaska

The mirror broken
a smash on my soul
a chapter closed

Scars on my face
a tear
just one
the last one

Then she turned into stone.

Copyright © 2011 Ingrid Prohaska

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“The Fall”
by Ingrid Prohaska

Dark sides
dark impressions
dark poetry

I feel that I fall
and I fall
I fall

Hands are reaching out for me
offer me their help
but when I try to take them
I have to see
these hands are bones
of dead
or undead
I feel the cold
and I’m scared

So I fall deeper
and deeper
into a universe
where the sun doesn’t shine
and no flower can bloom
where tears freeze into sharp stones

An unknown land
without any light
where one can’t see
and hardly breathe
dark feelings are stronger than ever

My inside cries

But in my scream
there hang the words
for me to hear

I will survive!

Copyright © 2011 Ingrid Prohaska

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“About a Break”
by Ingrid Prohaska

  • Short  Story

A story about light and heavy bags …

“On the Terminal”
by Ingrid Prohaska
I got out of the train on that big terminal. I had a lot of bags; my baggage had become very heavy during the long lasting journey. I felt tired, somehow burned out, hopeless and nearly desperate. I didn’t know, where my journey would go when I was going to leave the station again, but I was sure – I didn’t want to take all these heavy bags with me any more.

I carried my baggage into the station hall and looked for a silent place. Finally I sat down on a bench in a low frequented area. I thought about what I could do. I watched the passengers carrying their suitcases and bags. Some of them carried very heavy, others seemed almost to dance with their light bags. “I wish that could be me; dancing through the life only with light bags, carrying only things I really need.”

I had lost some of my light bags with things I was missing now. And somehow I was already used on the heavy bags I carried with me; this made it so difficult to dump them. Sometimes I asked myself, why it was so easy to lose light bags, and seemingly not possible to get rid of heavy ones.

While I was lost in my thoughts, my eyes fell upon a sign “Lost & Found”.

“Hey,” I thought, “there are the experts!”

I took up all my bags, carried them towards the sign, walked into the agency and looked for a friendly face. A middle-aged man with a blue working-coat stood behind the desk. He had a boring face without any expression.

“Can I help you?” he said expressionless with a monotonous voice.

“Yes, I really want to get rid of my heavy bags. Could you please give me an advice?”

“Never heard about someone who wants to lose something,” he answered still monotonous, “Normally people come to us because they want to find what they have lost.”

“Well,” I said, “I also lost a lot of things during my journey. So, maybe you can help me in this way?”

“Yes,” he said and gave me a form, “fill it out, make a list, describe your bags and bring it back. Then we will see, if someone has found your things.”

I took my pen and wrote down a list: love, time, joy, humor and hope.

I gave him the list and a smile crossed his face.

“Yes Lady, these things are often lost. Our backroom is full of these things. These are light bags. People rather lose light bags than heavy ones.”

He opened the door to the backroom, so that I could have a look into it and I was really surprised.

“And nobody comes to get back what he has lost?” I asked.

“Seldom,” he said. “Although many people miss their light bags, they don’t take the time to find them. Others even don’t notice what they have lost. So, we’ll have a look for your bags.”

He went into the backroom and while I was waiting, I felt hope coming back. And really how I had felt, he brought me the well acquainted bag of my hopes. Suddenly I felt joy. I had tears in my eyes when he brought me my bag of joy a short time later.

I left the “Lost & Found” agency again with my bags of hope and joy. And anyhow – my heavy baggage seemed lighter. I sat down again in the station hall. I cried and laughed the same time.

“Hey Lady, is everything alright with you?” An old man had sat down beside me. I told him my story about getting back my hope and my joy.

“But I still wish to lose my heavy bags.” I ended my story.

“What is in your heavy bags?” he asked.

“Well,” I sighed, “I had a lot of bad experiences, hurts, guilt, doubts, fears. – Do you know how to get rid of them?”

He smiled. “Losing heavy things is not so easy, eh? They are often connected with the fear of forgetting and forgetting bad things is often connected with the fear of happening again. Right?”

I nodded.

“Love helps,” he continued.

“But I have lost my love.” I answered sadly.

“Okay,” he said, “and what’s about your self-love? I’m pretty sure you have some, otherwise you wouldn’t wish to change your baggage.”

I looked around, “Could be I have a little bag self-love anywhere.”

“So take care of your self-love, let it grow. This can be a way to lose your doubts and fear and guilt. I’m sure you won’t miss them. And love will heal your hurts. And love,” he said, “will become more and more, if you take care of it and you will be able to give love and so you will get love.”

I felt that this man was right.

“And – do you also know, how I can find my lost time and my lost humor?”

He smiled again. “Time,” he said, “is lost. It is past. But take care of your future moments. Try to enjoy every moment in your life. And humor,” he said still smiling, “humor, you’ll see, come back alone.”

Before I could thank the old man for his advice, he disappeared as quickly as he had appeared. But he was right again.

After I had left the station – with my light baggage I had decided to walk except of taking another train – I found a bag of humor. I laughed and I danced and then – I wrote down this story.

Copyright © 2007, 2010 Ingrid Prohaska

the original post >

  • Links

DancingElla’s Words > http://dancingella.blogspot.com/

Viennese Legends > http://vienneselegends.blogspot.com/

DancingElla’sWords on facebook > http://www.facebook.com/DancingEllasWords
DancingElla on twitter > https://twitter.com/#!/dancingella
DancingElla’s Words, where my stories are at home

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