Laundry Room

October 20, 2009

So here I am. Sitting in my wonderful internet-laten LAUNDRY ROOM! I have been working at my new NORM job all week thus far and now finally have the time to update. Sorry for the wait.

I have worked out that my first draft is nearly 1/2 done! I think that I am still on the steepest part of the hill. When I say half I mean A 6th, I am half done with the writing, not the editing, the art, the revising, producing and the legal shit. Well here is another istallment. I have been on a strain of tired, so please forgive the typos, and errors, for whatever it’s worth.

A New Adventure
It had been several passes of the moon since my meeting with the King of Flowers. I had sat at the crown of a hill to the furthest and highest side away from the Great Dark and the dreadful stair that stole my hope. It was fall now and perhaps the need to nest had gotten the better of me. I sat there while long days turned into short and while the nights grew ever longer, shimmering with stars.
I had began to feel whole again, though when I felt almost as full of hope and rest as I could I noticed something empty there inside me. It was something I lost, but what I could not guess. So to maybe fill my thoughts I slept and dreamt.
The breeze was cool and carried the sweet scent of harvest about it. It was filled with all new currents of fragrance from the new bloom down in The Sea. Sleep was fast upon me.

The hills shot up and turned gold and brown and with a mighty gust the sky had been drown abruptly from the pink and yellow to a growing endless purple. Grass stood higher and a wild spark was everywhere to bee seen. The beasts were prowling and not playing. The horizon was not filled with trees and play places but continued on from my vantage point, on and on in a great roundness.
I stood. I crept. I did not want them to see me. The cats and wolves were all about, hunting friend hare despite me.
“I must grow up and bloom, and stop all this doom, yes all this doom,” I whispered.
I grabbed up and lashed forward and with a whorl the stars fell into my grasp. I held tight a long beam of a sun that warmed some other lonely place. It swirled with light and dropped motes of sparkling energy about like bits of dust or down.
Sliding down the hill the great cat and wolf looked to me, snarling and raising claw.
“My fangs are sharper,” I cried, “and I command you to stop this nonsense at once!” They of coarse did not listen. They took to both sides but fear I did not feel. When their paws slammed down there was a great clatter, as a thousand piece wave of prism sprang forth and caught the paw before it reached me. I spun and turned and rounded a bend face-to-face I stood with wolf. His breath was hot and steam rose out, and with a yip he sprang forward. Lurching I swung and the wolf lay cold deeply in the bracken.
They tears fell down as finally I came to the hare I knew so well. He panted and jumped and could not speak, and a murmur was all I could muster. The faint patter of paws could be heard behind me and now in front as all the animals had come to see the one who had slain their master. I cried and fell to my knees, with all the eyes upon me.
I ran and ran to from the beasts as they snapped and bit at my feet. Through none of the places I knew before and on and on I had to go. The flight was long and finally I came to a great silent place where the trees had made a shelter-like dome. I crept inside and tumbled with fear into a great bed of wild red roses. The thorns stung and bit be everywhere and my blood was as their petals. I wept there in the silence until I fell asleep.
I awoke again, deep in my forest. The sun shot through the breaks in the trees and made for patches of yellow butterscotch warmth. Rubbing my eyes I rolled over, and I realized I was back home, but far from the hill where I slept. How long have I been here, I thought.
Standing up I caught a glimpse of a fiery red gem through a path. A shaft of light fell upon a glade deeper even in my woods. Walking down I found that I was not scared, or wounded, hunted or hounded. I was home and safe and found somewhere new.
I came to the glade with a glee I left at the edge of the Great Dark that fateful day, weeks ago. Wiping my eyes, for I could not believe what stood before me, I blinked. Taking a step into the light I kneeled down and took in a deep breath of light and fragrance, and finally recognized the brilliant, reflective, rose. It was the most beautiful flower I had ever seen, and I fell in love immediately with its grace and passion. Its surfaces were made from glinting rocks that had streams of jewels flowing from through it. Little stars had seemingly been caught inside its petals, but they still managed to dance and sing within.
I reached down and placed my hand upon the silky stem. I could feel the thorns sink deeply into my skin and I pulled the flower from its fine dirt home. Holding the rose above my head, I stood. The sun glimmered and a wave of pink dust floated by. Then I sat down. I sat with my admiration singled in on only one of my subjects, all the others faded away.

The ending is giving me quite a bit of trouble so any input would be great. I think a rivisoin of some of the language is called for, we will see in further reditions yet to come.

Enjoy all!

More writing

October 14, 2009

Okay, I know that I said this was an ART blog, but there has to be some reasoning behind the art, and writing is art RIGHT!!! Well here is another little blurb/chapter for you guys to read and discuss and hopefully make a ruckus about!

The King of Flowers
The edge of the shadow was drawing near. From this side it looked like a great glowing sheet of standing light; like a liquid wavering and flowing all around. Closing my eyes I stepped through. The warmth and light covered me, surrounded I was again, by the great trees of the edge of my kingdom.
I leapt through the great paths and found my way into the Ocean of Flowers. Swimming through its vibrant colors I found again that joy and happiness that I had felt leave me when I walked the bright path of The Stair.
My wound hurt but it mattered little when all my kingdom stood there for me to rule. It was not long before the bees and birds came with thread and the deer with plants to soothe the wound. They had missed their king as I had missed them.
“Please king never leave, the honey taste not so sweet without you,” the bees buzzed.
“Walk not far from the hoof, “ the deer warned, and the birds chirped and chirped and songs were made that lifted my heart so that I nearly forgot all that had passed.
All my subjects had gathered to hear the news; even the greatest of them came. It was not surprising to see faces I did not know, for I was their beloved king, but the oddest of beasts had made his way to me.
His face was large and strange and carried many eyes, which looked like seeds resting and waiting to bloom. He had four arms and the legs of a mighty ox that were covered with magnificent fur. He smiled sadly at me, and began to slowly walk his way towards me.
“Peace it is that you return, young prince.” He said. His voice was twofold that of a great bellowing wind and of a beautiful clear bell.
“Thank you,” I glanced at him quizzically as I spoke.
“Ah, hmm,” He laughed.
“Is there something funny,” I asked not seeing or hearing a joke.
“Why yes, prince. You are,” He cocked his head with a twitch and folded his arms in front of him, making what appeared to be a knot.
“ I don’t like you,” I said pushing my bottom lip and brow down low.
“Well I am not for you to dislike or like, and I have something very important for you: a lesson,” He lurched forward slowly but not with his whole body. His long torso reached down and with his touch a great shelter of marvelous flowers sprung.
A great round dome formed around us made from long and thin flower stems. All around me I could see the petals of the flowers painting pictures of great and terrible things. Each one caught my eyes and light, from which had no source, comforted me in the dome as I sat staring the King of Flowers in his six eyed, smooth face.
He laughed the laugh of a low creak and then spoke,
“Let this be the first lesson,” he said with a wave of his hand. The colors and petals changed to make the image of a night sky. Little white sparkling flowers made up the stars and a wave of deep purple flowers painted the tapestry of space.
“You must first find your power, and like all these stars you must be unique. You travel through the darkness and up The Stair and have come back nothing more than you were before, save a bit wiser. The sky is a vast sea, with many floating islands. These islands are not so far away; they are the things you know. They are the trees, birds, beasts and basilisks, not only the light but also the dark. In a great pattern they sweep and flow and it is this you must see,” He stopped to take a wispy breath.
“I don’t understand how flowers and stars have anything to do with me or my, my,” I began to stumble over the idea of what I was even doing, “Quest!” I said shouting and standing up. Even after the built up tension, my yell fell short on the ears of the walls and the king. He again began to speak,
“Take a deeper look,” He said and the tapestry changed again. This time it formed a beautiful light blue dotted with mounds and piles of magnificent silvery clouds, “Wake from your dream. Wake from it now. Here with the clouds you can move and fly as free as anything else, but you are not a cloud. So what use is it to you to fly and sway?”
“I still don’t understand,” I said shaking my head and crossing my arms. I was quite displeased and knew very little of what this had to do with my adventure, or for that matter, my princess.
Stamping his great hoof, the petals began to rain down. The mist and fall of the petals made for an ocean of drops and then with a whisper and blink, the flower rain stopped. Standing in its place was a clear sky, wet still around the eyes, like it had been crying. In it’s distance I could see the sun emerge, made from a thousand sunflowers, or so it seemed. Then in a flash a bright rainbow shot out like a stream of confetti over my head to the other depth of this marvelous tapestry before me.
“Do see and understand this trick of light. It is a sign after the rain that all is well and happy. A defense it is, against all the dark things in our hearts that would let us see sorrow for the storms and squalls. Each beam of light, you should be like. Each color an aspect unto you. Do you see this?”
“I…” I stuttered and stared with nothing more to say.
“Hmm,” he said scratching his brow, “Then look at this.” It took a moment and in the middle of the dome, with all the images and play gone from its surface there was only a rose. It grew from seedling to bloom there before my eyes. It had radiance and brilliance, and its fragrance encompassed everything. After a moment he spoke,
“ If all my other lesions do not show you what I mean, then here let this simple flower be the last. You my prince are but a seedling, and when you have brilliant petals of red you be full grown and find your fragrance. Once you are in bloom you will see the world for what it is. You will see the things that I have said to be what only they are. My lessons for you are these four. Yet this one is not quite finished.”
With another miraculous wave of his hands the entire floor became a bed of roses, full and bright, and crimson red. I stood in awe, silent and bewildered. I looked about for all I might see in a new meaning to this. All I could do was push my brow further and further down to make a serious and certain face. It was then when I was stung by the bite of a rose. I cried out, but quickly silenced it.
“One or many, what difference is this? Can you tell the original form the rest? I think not. So, must you find meaning in that instance for your self? Find meaning you must in all things that pass before you. You child who live as a king are no more a king of this domain as I am king of you. Star, cloud, rainbow and rose, these are the things you must seek. They are a part of everything, look and see that things far away in seeming may be closer than you think.”

Ok, I wrote this in two chunks and I think it shows. I will be revising this section I know, but I thought i’d throw it up here seeing how it’s the most iffy one yet.

I have been writing and plotting like a mad man, so with a good energy and flow, I think I’ll have some art to put to these word before you know it.

Some more drafts and some sketches

October 8, 2009

Hi again, I spent some time yesterday putting some things down on paper. Mostly a time line of events. I have also been thinking about how long the book should be all together, I am having a difficult time putting it all together. I think that it will work it’s self out somehow by the end, how ever far away that is.

I renamed the first blurb that i posted the other day, so if there is a bit of confusion, sorry. This is the “My kingdom” page and not the other one.

My Kingdom
In the darkness it started, like it always does, but with a flash the hills were exposed to a new sense. I thought to myself if anyone had ever before seen this place, my kingdom. It was magnificent and beautiful, as would be expected of a home befitting me.

The sky was blue with yellows and reds hanging dearly at its edges. A sea of blue-green grass waved and parted for my steps, which one by one led me to a great forest. The trees there were of many fashions, some old and powerful and some yearlings and saplings. There leaves were always in autumn and shone like crystalline reflections in the sky above. Running my hand along the surfaces of trees I could smell the sweet air rushing in from the hills below. Many days, I thought, I could spend smelling the sweet fragrance of the flowers yonder. Eventually the curiosity to see them grew greater and with a yelp I hurried over the shimmering hills, to the fields of flowers below.
It was known that one subject of my kingdom dwelt there, though he was elusive and odd. His presence mattered little, for my word; my will is law in my kingdom.
And what an excellent kingdom I thought. Gladly there was no one else to own it, and so it must be mine, all mine. As he spoke a great wind began to swirl and catch the petals of the hundred acre flower fields, shaking loose not only the sweetest of smells but also the grandest of melodies. Each flower was it’s own instrument, each petal it’s own note. They all came together in an airy symphony that stirred the subject of the wood into songs.
As it was, bright birds that had came from the highest parts of the sky to chirp, began their musing. The deer and elk made patterns with their hooves one the ground, stamping together a heavy and grand rhythm. If there was a greater music to be heard it was nowhere here in this kingdom, as all the animals and insects made tunes to go along.
It was not long that this tune was played, when I stumbled gleefully down to the edge of the flowers and again into my forest. Further on there was something strange, something very queer: A break in the light was made at the edge of the forest. Where the trees grew tall and thick there lay a line of shadow.
It was not a warm, scented breeze that sprang forth, but a foul and cold wind, that echoed and moaned within the forever empty, Great Dark.

That is sort of the intro to the his home, so people can get an idea of where he lives and what is the day to day expirience. I battled with showing it as his first time awake in his kingdom and I think it might show. It might leave it up to the reader a little more as well? What do you think?

Metulj
“Little one, why do you cry?” The mysterious voice spoke. Through the light I could see a shape, but I could not make it out.
Squinting, I said, “Who, who are you?” Then I stood up.
“Why, little one, do you ask such questions of your savior? Listen to me now, my little one, I am Metulj, The Lionesse. You cannot walk on your own and there are many tricks ahead. If you want to make it up The Stair take my hand,” The shape stepped forward and from what I thought was a great lion a woman’s shape appeared. Her hair was red and fiery and seemed to burn and glow like the embers in a fire. She had a great mantle of feathers and fir that formed wings on her back and great powerful legs like that of a giant bird.
“ What if you’re a trick,” I said cleverly. With a look of shock and anger she reared back and a great flame sprung from her hand.
“ I do not play tricks, I make magic,” She said standing over me with her massive wings spread. My body jerked and I felt warmth again come over me. It was not a breeze or the heat of a fire, but my courage coming back. Standing up I placed my feet together, side-by-side, like a sturdy tree from my kingdom below.  With a courage and stubbornness I cried out,
“I will stay here on this step as long as I like, and help from you I dare not have, master and lady of magic. My tears are mine alone, be gone and leave me the same.”
Shaking her head bestially, her breath flared, “Little one, Little one, I would say to you while you slept and while you wept, and this, this is the way you prove? Keep on up, crying alone, but I’ll be waiting when you come back home.”
With my courage intact I began again the long climb to heaven, but what did she mean, while I slept?

I won’t say to much about this one, but I would love comments and input.


The Enemy

October 6, 2009

Hello again!

So the most recent thing that has been shifting through my mind is the reoccurring “bad guys” in the tale, or the gremlins. The gremlins are sort of steam-tech, gun wielding, ne’er do-gooders. The real problem with them is that they came from nowhere, or possibly The Great Dark. It isn’t revealed as to where they come from until towards the end of the story.

I see the gremlins as a part of the child that Kema is an aspect of. Say, if Kema is the proud, strong-hearted, arrogant, stubborn parts, gremlins are the mischievous, dark, mean, angry and loud parts. Thinking of it now, the maiden represents other aspects as well. I think that is a pretty good way to look at it: that all the characters and places are just pieces of the puzzle that complete Kema.

Well, I just wanted to jot that down, sorry for the short post, the next on will be arduous to read, I promise.

Places.

October 4, 2009

Hello few and far between readers. I have been expirencing some internetlessness as of late and haven’t been able to post.

Last post I said I would post descriprions of some places, but i think i’ll do it through Kema’s PoV and make it a little story like, I don’t know how much light it will shine on the places, but it will get me to start writing.

My Kingdom

Night had come and the breeze with suffering moaned into the great cracks of the trees in my kingdom. Bored, like always, I met the night with fervent adventure. Weaving in and out of trees I came to the edge of the Great Dark. The peerless lines where my kingdom ends scared me. In it’s sterile darkness I would like to dwell, but only to prove that it’s not the end, but somewhere else to rule.
My heart pounded and I looked about to make sure none of my subjects saw me. I couldn’t tell if the breeze went through the dark. There wasn’t a single sound, at least until the rabbit moved before me.
Twitching its nose and bristly beard it spoke, “You don’t want to go in their, its nothing but bad carrots and rotten luck.
Staring back at his harmless glare my eyebrow rose. “What is it that gives it all that bad luck?” I said.
He just looked around, long ears folded back, and peered about for nibbits of leafy food as if he had no answer, or he hadn’t said anything at all. Rabbits were unreliable I decided and into that dark fervent forest I went.

The Pearlescent Stair:


Through that dark I wept, and luckily so, that it was dark, at least. No one saw and no one cared, but maybe the fear had caught up with me. I found that the cold here was much less cooling and a lot more oppressive, like a great weight it pushed down, sticking to me like fog on the mountains.
Laying about back in my kingdom from time to time I would close my eyes to find spots of white hanging in their corners. This was not too different. The difference between the darkness and the trees, dead grass, vines, and birds was little more than two shades of the same black. In that corner, there it was, that light, sparking like a sunspot, and no matter which way you looked it followed. I looked to it as a guiding star and walked with a new aim.
The closer I was the more it brightened and even the shaded parts seemed to glow. It was a great magnificent staircase breaking from the ground, ascending deep into the sky. At last my fear had past, and it was time to walk up. Or was it time to wake up?

These two kind of go together, but the next one doesn’t so much:

The Stars

I looked up and for the first time saw something a little more whole. The night sky spoke and swung to and fro. Its glimmering gems sparkled throughout with wholehearted innocence. Again that breeze was swelling up on the other side of my hill waiting to push through the trees like water through teeth. I lowered my eyes then closed them. I remembered my dream; I remembered my teachings. ‘Things far away in seeming may be closer than you think’

Night sky,
Night shy,

Open your eyes,
Twinkles are thy pine,
Your stars are mine!

Mired by none,
Harnessed by one,
My will be done,
My will is done!

Night shy,
Night sky.

With a glance, the brightest of stars in my sky showed itself to me. Reaching up, squishing the star in between my fingers, like a glistening candy, I pulled it down. With the will of a king my commandment was it’s order, and to it I gave it shape: The mightiest sword in all my kingdom.

The swirling aether of night brought down with the star caught the breeze and its veil whirred around me, laughing playfully at my newest of subjects.
I think I stuck this little poem in there because I’ve been reading LoTR, and he just drops them left and right.

Okay, so the art, I don’t have any new stuff yet, i guess i’m more in the “writing” phase of the story.

For those who are reading: any questions, suggestions or ideas?

Zhuang

September 27, 2009

Day 2. So I decided to revisit some of the passages that made me think of this story altogether. Here are a few passages that are paramount in the conception of the tale.

Once upon a time, I, Chuang Chou, dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly. I was conscious only of my happiness as a butterfly, unaware that I was Chou. Soon I awaked, and there I was, veritably myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man. Between a man and a butterfly there is necessarily a distinction. The transition is called the transformation of material things.

How do I know that enjoying life is not a delusion? How do I know that in hating death we are not like people who got lost in early childhood and do not know the way home? Lady Li was the child of a border guard in Ai. When first captured by the state of Jin, she wept so much her clothes were soaked. But after she entered the palace, shared the king’s bed, and dined on the finest meats, she regretted her tears. How do I know that the dead do not regret their previous longing for life? One who dreams of drinking wine may in the morning weep; one who dreams weeping may in the morning go out to hunt. During our dreams we do not know we are dreaming. We may even dream of interpreting a dream. Only on waking do we know it was a dream. Only after the great awakening will we realize that this is the great dream. And yet fools think they are awake, presuming to know that they are rulers or herdsmen. How dense! You and Confucius are both dreaming, and I who say you are a dream am also a dream. Such is my tale. It will probably be called preposterous, but after ten thousand generations there may be a great sage who will be able to explain it, a trivial interval equivalent to the passage from morning to night.

The wise man looks into space and does not regard the small as too little, not the great as too big, for he knows that, there is no limit to dimensions.

One of the main sweeps in the tale is when Kema has this butterfly dream, and disdains his life. He doesn’t understand what it means or what he’s supposed to do. It’s really the beginning of the turning point, where Kema really begins to realize his kingdom, his life, his journey, aren’t everything there is. These things lose a lot of meaning to him, and it is not until later that he finds again the meaning.

So in stage one he awakens from his own small world, as it transitions to the larger world and universe. Then he again transforms, more physically, from a boy to a warrior. The next movement is when he sleeps and finds himself somewhere else, as a butterfly maybe, and when he wakes to his world in turmoil, he stagnates. Instead of changing he crawls back into his small world. In the final act he realizes, surrounded by sorrow and possible death, that this is his butterfly dream, at that he may wake up and be something different, yet again.

Okay, so next post I think I’ll start writing blurbs about the different points and things in the story, to get a good idea of what these places and things are, for me and you.

September 26, 2009

Hello everyone, welcome to the first installment of…

CHOCOLATE SPACESHIP.

This blog was created to maintain a level of oversight to the largest project I have ever attempted to undertake. It is a story about a lot of things, as you’ll find out in these ramblings, i’m sure. I have taken inspiration from my favorites: Chuang Tzu, Antione De Saint-Exupery, Richard Adams, Margery Williams and many, many others that I most likely haven’t even realized yet.

It is a tale about a boy, a prince, that must undergo many changes before he realizes what he really is. It’s a tale about death, life, love, uniqueness, the arbitrary universe, dreams, and courage.

The format is a big problem for me. I want there to be a story book element to it, but I can’t just put everything down in prose with simple illustrations. It was originally conceived as a sequential art piece (a comic) but the scope has led me down a different path. The idea I’ve come up with so far is: BOTH. So it will be an alternating form of sequential art and prose, hopefully it will come together nicely and create the feel I want.

Here is the cast of characters:

Hevavahkema (Kema) is the main protagonist, the prince. He is characterized by his angry eyebrows, hat, horns and pointed ears.

Pi Sugnya (Pi) is the Maiden in the story who is missing, for unknown reasons, and shares many traits with Kema.

Hu-tieh is the King of Flowers who plays a role as trickster and mentor.

Dhad’hama  is a mysterious scholar in the woods, much of this characters role is taken from Taoist and Confucian models. I think of him as a detached intellectual who knows that he can’t reach his dreams, because he knows too much.

Metulj is the Lionesse, she is sort of an aspect of Kema. She is wild inhuman and magical. She becomes various things throughout the tale, but never shines as brightly as Kema, and this, as you will see, bothers her greatly.

There are various other entities within the tale but those are the main cast for now. This is still a major work in progress.

I’ll post some sketches and such a.s.a.p.

Thanks for reading.

The Lionesse

The Lionesse

On of the first pictures I drew for the idea. A lot came out of this drawing.

On of the first pictures I drew for the idea. A lot came out of this drawing.

This is a water color of Kema, fully equiped with all his key items.

This is a water color of Kema, fully equiped with all his key items.