INK.
(is murder)
- Pete
Mistakes Were Made.
Time spent ill-advisedly.
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
A Rough Demo
The Banshee Eliza is a creature to be feared
She weeps and she cries for the misfortunes of the damned
Dressed all in grey with long hair to her hips
A comb in her hand, a lament on her lips
And Oh she sings a keen for the damned
Oh the power of fear in her hand
Her name is a promise and her teeth rotten and black
Her fingers clutch and claw, skin pale and slack
Night comes the time to serenade all your woes
You only hear her song when your friends fall to foes
And Oh she sings a keen for the damned
Oh the power of fear in her hand
But who would love the banshee Eliza?
To weep, wail, cry keen
only once has she sung for herself.
For those who have dared to the edge of the night
Have all heard a sound that could never be right
So piercing so shrill, a beauty so wrong
Eliza’s Love Song.
-Tom
Debut Salut
Hi all and sundry,
It is a cause of much excitement to be here. I haven’t made a peep yet, yet this remains true. I’ve been silent because Ive been busy! If my life were an automobile I would be pulled over by police for erratic driving. Also going too fast. But I had a chance to sit down yesterday and bang out the first chapter of my GOVERNMENT SPONSORED WRITING PROJECT (ack they will take my passport if I displease them).
I’m gonna post an excerpt here, and then maybe in a few days post some more. I don’t want to flood Mistakes Were Made with reams of my wankerish prose. Prose is cumbersome and not visually appealing. In fact I feel tired every time I see page after page of verbosity! On the screen I mean. I read books. They’re easier to accept psychologically.
So anyway, here we go. Lemme know if it’s OK a’ight?
Ferryland (Myth)
This is my first foray. I don’t know what I’m going to do, what I’m going to say. I try not to feel uncertain.
Driving down the southern shore highway, two lanes, scenic, doing 90 sometimes, getting stuck behind tourists doing 50 other times. Here in the heart of Irish Newfoundland, a stronghold of anti-confederate nationalism, there are many Pink, White, and Green tricolours, on private homes, on businesses, on vehicles. They have the ‘right’ shade of pink too, out here. My father is derisive of these “fabrique en chine” Newfoundland flags which have a chemical, cartoonish pink, like poison sheep laurel, a neon lady in a stripclub window. The correct pink, the real one, is a pale rose, surprisingly pale, more of a faint blush than anything.
I wonder where real pink Pink White and Green flags can be bought. Is there a secret shop on Duckworth Street (password for entry: Talamh an Eisc)? Or do they result only after fifteen plus years bleaching in the sun and the salty wind off the North Atlantic? Is a real Pink White and Green a flag that has lived here long enough that the colour is leached out, particles of artificial dye whipping across the bogs and woods of the Southern Avalon, until what was artifical and foreign has metamorphisized, been stripped clean, become authentic and local?
I listen to CBC as I drive.
- Michael
Another photoshop, this time examining possibilities for the finished look of the thing.
I very much want to get a look that shows off the underlying blood vessels. As it’s an embryo and thus not fully developed I figured you’d see more of this than you normally would on a fully grown creature.
The photoshop has several layers of blood vessels showing through at various levels of transparency.
The final puppet will be cast in semi-translucent silicon over a basic form comprised of rubber blood vessels. This will hopefully approximate what can be seen in the above pic.
Higher res version here: http://www.thedarkpower.com/Embryo/Embryo%20colour%20concept.jpg
