Jealousy (1954)

Jealousy is that emotion which can drive one to jump to conclusions and tear apart a relationship. This short film, well acted out, dealt with a wife's jealousy of her husband working late. As he arrived home and greeted his wife in a friendly manner, she bombarded him with her unsubstantiated thoughts, adding fuel to the fire. Attempting to reason with his unreasonable spouse, he realized his attempts were futile. Feeling agitated he left. The love of her life leaves without her knowing where he was going. Her thoughts ran rampant as she tried to reason what she thought and what had actually occurred. The phone rings. It is the husband's boss informing her of what transpired between the both men. Feeling awful she decides to search the downtown area for him. Guilty feelings were projected upon the unknowing husband, making him the guilty party of committing adultery. The culprit was her with her unexpressed desires for the cute guy in her acting group. Grabbing her coat and wrapping a scarf around her neck, she walked into the crisp night air in search of her husband. The storefront businesses where she peered into, were brightly lit. One small restaurant on the boulevard was where the husband sat alone in a booth eating his modest meal. Watching through the window made her realize that she was wrong for assuming his intentions were unfaithful. A woman whom they both knew in the small eatery was about to leave when she noticed him. This woman turned and headed for the occupied booth where she sat opposite him. Their conversation was sociable. The wife contemplated whether or not she should enter the eatery. A wise decision came upon her to start heading home and change for bed. At home while laying in the darkened room her husband enters the home calling out to her in a pleasant manner. All seems to have been resolved.

Memories of a Bucolic Scene

Lady in GIF
J.R. Frieman

A bucolic scene is envisioned in my imagination. Its rustic allure tempts me to walk amongst its flowers and smell their perfume like scent. A busy honeybee goes about its business and extracts nectar while pollinating each pretty blossom. Morning glories grow vine like and bloom each morning, only to close their lovely blooms by the early afternoon. Their loveliness always attracted me as a child and I missed them when their bloom was closed. Lilies of the valley had a distinguishing charm about them. Their bell shaped bloom hung in small groups upon one stem. I would imagine them as tiny bells ringing. The lilac bush I had adored. Its lavender blooms and unique scent attracted my curiosity and tantalized my senses. This bush was large in size and provided shade in the summertime. As I sat in its protective shade I would reminisce about the summer nights where I would catch fireflies.

Next to the lilac bush was the forsythia bush. Each spring this bush would sprout beautiful yellow blooms which would turn green when summer arrived. I would imagine these yellow blooms as flowers; gather a few small branches and place them in a glass jar filled half way with water. 

Forsythia Bush 
Photo: Property of J.R. Frieman 

The pussy willows happened to be one of my favorite springtime flora. Their furry outer coats were soft like a kitten's fur and they grow; several were sprouting just on one branch. I would pick a few branches and place them in a vase as decoration. 

As the sun headed toward the western horizon, my stroll through this imaginary nature scene was complete. 

Memories of a Bucolic Scene

Lady in GIF
J.R. Frieman

A bucolic scene is envisioned in my imagination. Its rustic allure tempts me to walk amongst its flowers and smell their perfume like scent. A busy honeybee goes about its business and extracts nectar while pollinating each pretty blossom. Morning glories grow vine like and bloom each morning, only to close their lovely blooms by the early afternoon. Their loveliness always attracted me as a child and I missed them when their bloom was closed. Lilies of the valley had a distinguishing charm about them. Their bell shaped bloom hung in small groups upon one stem. I would imagine them as tiny bells ringing. The lilac bush I had adored. Its lavender blooms and unique scent attracted my curiosity and tantalized my senses. This bush was large in size and provided shade in the summertime. As I sat in its protective shade I would reminisce about the summer nights where I would catch fireflies.

Next to the lilac bush was the forsythia bush. Each spring this bush would sprout beautiful yellow blooms which would turn green when summer arrived. I would imagine these yellow blooms as flowers; gather a few small branches and place them in a glass jar filled half way with water. 

Forsythia Bush 
Photo: Property of J.R. Frieman 

The pussy willows happened to be one of my favorite springtime flora. Their furry outer coats were soft like a kitten's fur and they grow; several were sprouting just on one branch. I would pick a few branches and place them in a vase as decoration. 

As the sun headed toward the western horizon, my stroll through this imaginary nature scene was complete. 

Memories of a Bucolic Scene

Lady in GIF
J.R. Frieman

A bucolic scene is envisioned in my imagination. Its rustic allure tempts me to walk amongst its flowers and smell their perfume like scent. A busy honeybee goes about its business and extracts nectar while pollinating each pretty blossom. Morning glories grow vine like and bloom each morning, only to close their lovely blooms by the early afternoon. Their loveliness always attracted me as a child and I missed them when their bloom was closed. Lilies of the valley had a distinguishing charm about them. Their bell shaped bloom hung in small groups upon one stem. I would imagine them as tiny bells ringing. The lilac bush I had adored. Its lavender blooms and unique scent attracted my curiosity and tantalized my senses. This bush was large in size and provided shade in the summertime. As I sat in its protective shade I would reminisce about the summer nights where I would catch fireflies.

Next to the lilac bush was the forsythia bush. Each spring this bush would sprout beautiful yellow blooms which would turn green when summer arrived. I would imagine these yellow blooms as flowers; gather a few small branches and place them in a glass jar filled half way with water. 

Forsythia Bush 
Photo: Property of J.R. Frieman 

The pussy willows happened to be one of my favorite springtime flora. Their furry outer coats were soft like a kitten's fur and they grow; several were sprouting just on one branch. I would pick a few branches and place them in a vase as decoration. 

As the sun headed toward the western horizon, my stroll through this imaginary nature scene was complete. 

Imagination Influences My Creative Flair

The script I am about to compose involves a rather necessary ingredient; that ingredient is creativity. Creativity and I emphasize this is the spark that ignites the blaze.

 A spark is the idea and the motivation is the ignition. The blaze is the actual composition. Ignite the spark from within one's imagination and fuel the story with fire! Watch it spread and engulf the entire page as it consumes every inch of it. A white hot script emerges from the ashes. In the metaphorical blue light, words are projected on the screen; saved and published by its unknown author. By the invention of modern technology the composition travels the threads of the internet and sews reading interest into its synthetic fabric. 

Readers feel amazed as the blaze enters their imagination firing up their levels of interest way up to the boiling point. Steam escapes with a sensual warmth surrounding its haze. 

Turn the page, end of chapter.