It was most definitely a grisly site that painted the pale soil a rusty red. He wrinkled his nose at the stench as he looked it over, then squatted down and leaned his elbows onto his knees, careful. Very careful not to touch a thing.
"Well?" Called out voice, sharp in its impatience.
"Well what? Just got here." He replied evenly. He narrowed his eyes, then tilted his head slightly as he continued his examination of the bloody heap before him.
Black swarms of flies buzzed their way through the air, clearing from a misshapen, and reddish lump. He heard a sharp intake of breath, followed by a the retching sound of a sick of the one far behind him.
"I. I just want it gone."
"Uh-huh." He said in noncommitedly. "Will be as soon as we find out who it is."
"What? I. I thought it was a..I dunno.. Sheep or.."
"Well it's not." He said as he rose to his feet. "Human. Least it used to be. That part there with the..?"
He glanced over his shoulder, and saw the well dressed man, the representative of his benefactor. Pale face scrunched in his distress, bent over his knees with his nose pointedly stuffed into the crook of his velvet draped arm. Glad of his own hard earned toughened guts, he decided to change what he was going to say, softening the hard facts before him.
"..looks to once've been a goat. A mighty big 'un."
"You mean to tell me it's a.." The man's muffled voice started...as if horrified by some notion. "It's a..a..ver.."
He knew this line of thought, as was very prevalent to those who carved meger living staying amongst the ruins of what came before. Vermen. Supposedly a mix of a man and something else.Really nothing more than phantom to be feared -- often invoked by exaperated elders to bring errant children into line.
Not wanting to indulge the frilly thin man's ridiculous, wild imaginings, he snapped.
"I just told you what it is! As for how?" He shrugged, and slipped his hands into his coat pockets as he strode away from the mess. "Likely a grizzly come down from the hill." He saw the man's eyes widen in alarm. He then added more sharply than he knew he should have as he passed near the man. "Not a name to be concerned with. Just a BEAR."
"A bear." The frilly man repeated darkly, then oddly added, as if the animal were a capable villain. " A mere bear can dare. Do ..t-this? Here?!?"
He took a deep steadying breath against the impending lunacy, and prompted. "Your hospitality is welcomed, however, my people will wish to trade as soon as possible. When, exactly, I can expect to see his excellency..?"
"Oh... Um." The frilly man interrupted, stammering. "I shall let him know of your request as soon as. This. Is thoroughly disposed of."
He frowned as he glared at the man. "I'm not from here. You can't seriously expect me to..I told you this is a human being.. don't know..."
"Do. Your fair service for his excellency." The frilly man said with a wave as lifted his head high. "Not one tick sooner will the audience be granted. Until then, your.. People.. Shall have to continue their wait in our ..comfortable.. accommodations."
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Friday, October 29, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Inlandia Workshop 10.28.10
Inlandia Workshop.
If you were to take a spiritual journey, where would you go.
-----
Laws are being considered to outlaw it. A humble garden based on aquaponics. But still I continue on my way, regardless of the cries of nags in the distant halls. It uses less water than they always assume, and is truly home to more than myself.
It is a small place, my sanctuary. Here, I am always reminded of my humble place in the world.
I cultivate the sun and let the pooled water babble beside me. Stubborn life thrives in a nearly lifeless place because of my efforts, and dies because of my mistakes. I never need to go far to feel a part of things bigger than myself, which is how it should be.
---break--
Where does your writing start.
----
My voice my take Crash bang god gotta put something down. Maybe it will make sense maybe it won't.
---break--
This Frank Miller is certainly NOT the Frank Miller of comic book fame, though that in itself would be interesting if it were.
Super duper macho dude that worships at the alter of all things extreme testosterone running a simple inn. Ha! Like that would happen. Lots of explosions battles and blood. Think the movie "The 500".
Need a crowbar to hook it under, pry both of those personalities apart.
Looking at the ancient photos, I realise I know nothing about where I grew up at all. The Inn is obviously central to so many things built here. Connected in a way that I had never considered. Things I've passed by or driven over an never questioned. I just assumed it the quirks of someone with far too much money and too little imagination.
Now.
I have many questions tickling my brain, and I am not entirely sure of where to begin. Maybe I should just toss the whole shebang out the window. History smishtory.
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T
If you were to take a spiritual journey, where would you go.
-----
Laws are being considered to outlaw it. A humble garden based on aquaponics. But still I continue on my way, regardless of the cries of nags in the distant halls. It uses less water than they always assume, and is truly home to more than myself.
It is a small place, my sanctuary. Here, I am always reminded of my humble place in the world.
I cultivate the sun and let the pooled water babble beside me. Stubborn life thrives in a nearly lifeless place because of my efforts, and dies because of my mistakes. I never need to go far to feel a part of things bigger than myself, which is how it should be.
---break--
Where does your writing start.
----
My voice my take Crash bang god gotta put something down. Maybe it will make sense maybe it won't.
---break--
This Frank Miller is certainly NOT the Frank Miller of comic book fame, though that in itself would be interesting if it were.
Super duper macho dude that worships at the alter of all things extreme testosterone running a simple inn. Ha! Like that would happen. Lots of explosions battles and blood. Think the movie "The 500".
Need a crowbar to hook it under, pry both of those personalities apart.
Looking at the ancient photos, I realise I know nothing about where I grew up at all. The Inn is obviously central to so many things built here. Connected in a way that I had never considered. Things I've passed by or driven over an never questioned. I just assumed it the quirks of someone with far too much money and too little imagination.
Now.
I have many questions tickling my brain, and I am not entirely sure of where to begin. Maybe I should just toss the whole shebang out the window. History smishtory.
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T
Friday, October 22, 2010
Character notes.
Not entirely sure if I should post character notes or not. So a drabble will have to do.---
Dangerously thin, dark of hair, eye and skin, the distant inn is all she cares to remember as her mind rambled and misbehaved.
Huge and looming; the ancient beast hid behind a series of adobe arches covered with ivy, kissing the pavement of the road before her. As she stared, she knew she wasn't ready just yet for the task she had set out to do.
Instead, weary from the long walk, she hugged her knees in the concealling shadows of the broken alley. She heard their calling quite clearly; There was no doubt that they now thought that it was theirs. She knew she should seek someplace safe for a precious few hours from the others: the ones that must be avoided; The mean ones that wanted her on the Inside.
Largely ignored by the all fancy ones that glided about the painted surface of the black, she watched and listened; shining eyes wide and alive set in a face like carved stone.
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T
Dangerously thin, dark of hair, eye and skin, the distant inn is all she cares to remember as her mind rambled and misbehaved.
Huge and looming; the ancient beast hid behind a series of adobe arches covered with ivy, kissing the pavement of the road before her. As she stared, she knew she wasn't ready just yet for the task she had set out to do.
Instead, weary from the long walk, she hugged her knees in the concealling shadows of the broken alley. She heard their calling quite clearly; There was no doubt that they now thought that it was theirs. She knew she should seek someplace safe for a precious few hours from the others: the ones that must be avoided; The mean ones that wanted her on the Inside.
Largely ignored by the all fancy ones that glided about the painted surface of the black, she watched and listened; shining eyes wide and alive set in a face like carved stone.
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T
Friday, October 15, 2010
Inlandia Institute Workshop-- October 14 2010
Posting this raw because I believe in the creative process.. and it is raw as well as ugly.
Prompt--
I could have married that liar, but I didn't, because his words were quite cheap and poorly constructed; however, the drink he ordered for me was sweet. It truely did make the room spin. I barely remember that we did have a good time, but by morning, decision made, I left him alone with my head held high.
Prompt--
personal ad(Too close to home.)
Golddiggers need not apply. Looking for companionship and a partner for life, and putting something like this on the printed page is near impossible. No stalkers, or I get a partularly large and vicious dog to name Bubba just for you.
--break--
I know that posting our ads from this exercise onto craigslist won't really do any harm, and could draw attention to this workshop of hers, however, for some reason, it feels wrong.
Actually, I lie. I do know what's wrong. I think it was "the leader's" whole "freak the mundanes" mentality, and attitude that I have never liked.
The leader would probably explain it away as she was merely being playful.I have participated in art projects, and I know what she's doing. It is a college level exercise that I am participaing in, and there is something about the whole college thing that doesn't quite sit right with me.
The superior attitute which says, "I'm smarter than you so there!" to anyone who does not happen to share the accepted, liberal, "college" point of view of life. It's an attitude I find ultimately selfish and highly irresponsible. It resulted in the failure that is "women's liberation", which gave us weak males which now dwell in their mother's basements until their forties instead of supporting families; and girls which whore their bodies on the internet as soon as they arrive a puberty; and children literally sold into the slavery of ongoing sexual abuse so that their so called liberated mothers could enjoy the company of any available males.
That is no liberation. That is a lie. And that is why I rejected it long ago and explored more "conservative" ways. (Ah.. The liberation of canning one's own labors for one's own consumption.)
_______
Prompt--
everybody is addicted something, the love letter.
I could loose myself in this, where everything makes sense. I suppose that it has a name, for I have heard of something called "zero point", where everything is connected. I find it when I search my canvas and strive to reveal the thing that I see, that is when I am connected to everything. The canvas itself is not important, as it can be anything, really.
One time it was simply the stupid hole I was digging, angrily mostly, because I could find no one to help me. The soil was hardened clay and I had to swing a pick ax. For a garden.
Today it was laying bricks.
_____
100 bucksGreen peppersCucNo tomatoes, got too many already--need to can em or eat em!!Chili MinstronePastaPasta PastaCheeseCheese cheeseApplesOh yeah-- Veggie soup in a canPotatoesMaybe they have coriander- nopeSettle for Parsley- member to plant itBread, yep- cause I lazyChicken or fish? ____
Prompt--
I could have married that liar, but I didn't, because his words were quite cheap and poorly constructed; however, the drink he ordered for me was sweet. It truely did make the room spin. I barely remember that we did have a good time, but by morning, decision made, I left him alone with my head held high.
Prompt--
personal ad(Too close to home.)
Golddiggers need not apply. Looking for companionship and a partner for life, and putting something like this on the printed page is near impossible. No stalkers, or I get a partularly large and vicious dog to name Bubba just for you.
--break--
I know that posting our ads from this exercise onto craigslist won't really do any harm, and could draw attention to this workshop of hers, however, for some reason, it feels wrong.
Actually, I lie. I do know what's wrong. I think it was "the leader's" whole "freak the mundanes" mentality, and attitude that I have never liked.
The leader would probably explain it away as she was merely being playful.I have participated in art projects, and I know what she's doing. It is a college level exercise that I am participaing in, and there is something about the whole college thing that doesn't quite sit right with me.
The superior attitute which says, "I'm smarter than you so there!" to anyone who does not happen to share the accepted, liberal, "college" point of view of life. It's an attitude I find ultimately selfish and highly irresponsible. It resulted in the failure that is "women's liberation", which gave us weak males which now dwell in their mother's basements until their forties instead of supporting families; and girls which whore their bodies on the internet as soon as they arrive a puberty; and children literally sold into the slavery of ongoing sexual abuse so that their so called liberated mothers could enjoy the company of any available males.
That is no liberation. That is a lie. And that is why I rejected it long ago and explored more "conservative" ways. (Ah.. The liberation of canning one's own labors for one's own consumption.)
_______
Prompt--
everybody is addicted something, the love letter.
I could loose myself in this, where everything makes sense. I suppose that it has a name, for I have heard of something called "zero point", where everything is connected. I find it when I search my canvas and strive to reveal the thing that I see, that is when I am connected to everything. The canvas itself is not important, as it can be anything, really.
One time it was simply the stupid hole I was digging, angrily mostly, because I could find no one to help me. The soil was hardened clay and I had to swing a pick ax. For a garden.
Today it was laying bricks.
_____
100 bucksGreen peppersCucNo tomatoes, got too many already--need to can em or eat em!!Chili MinstronePastaPasta PastaCheeseCheese cheeseApplesOh yeah-- Veggie soup in a canPotatoesMaybe they have coriander- nopeSettle for Parsley- member to plant itBread, yep- cause I lazyChicken or fish? ____
Inlandia Institute Meeting September 30
This is a kind of note thing that I took while participating in the Inlandia workshop. I trust in the creative process, and this is entirely why I'm choosing to post this at all. It's raw. It's ugly.
It is.
Personal goal-
What you want to accomplish in workshop
New projectMission inn - incorperate in writing-
ghost walk
Persona?-- year timeline.
Dr. Horrible sing along blog
.---break---
Who am I?
I am my own bundle of contradictions.I am sister. I am lover. I am daughter. I am friend.I am also worker- the most limiting of my parts that I constantly strive to knit together.I am called an artist, and though I find the word is far too limiting for who I am, it seems to satify most.I am the one who breaks the fear of the blank page-
too many too few imagery lettered ideas that have no sense or much meaning to anyone else. I sculpt meaning out of chaos, most of which I freely create.
--break--
Inland empire
Back roads little more than trails made of mud flowing over kindling hills, ever eyed eagerly for development-- whatever that means. The summer heat melting commerials signs promising paradise just a block over from your own house, which is far more oridinary with your favorite dog buried under your tree.
---break--
-Bring in a piece to share if you're working on one. To have it critiqued and workshopped.Memory of the mission inn? First impression of the mission inn. Story heard about it.
It is.
Personal goal-
What you want to accomplish in workshop
New projectMission inn - incorperate in writing-
ghost walk
Persona?-- year timeline.
Dr. Horrible sing along blog
.---break---
Who am I?
I am my own bundle of contradictions.I am sister. I am lover. I am daughter. I am friend.I am also worker- the most limiting of my parts that I constantly strive to knit together.I am called an artist, and though I find the word is far too limiting for who I am, it seems to satify most.I am the one who breaks the fear of the blank page-
too many too few imagery lettered ideas that have no sense or much meaning to anyone else. I sculpt meaning out of chaos, most of which I freely create.
--break--
Inland empire
Back roads little more than trails made of mud flowing over kindling hills, ever eyed eagerly for development-- whatever that means. The summer heat melting commerials signs promising paradise just a block over from your own house, which is far more oridinary with your favorite dog buried under your tree.
---break--
-Bring in a piece to share if you're working on one. To have it critiqued and workshopped.Memory of the mission inn? First impression of the mission inn. Story heard about it.
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