Windy back flanked by a hot argument 

  • The meeting 

Into the dark room, full of clapping skeletons 

Living person of the future sees this moment as one to change

It replays, a broken record of failure 

They all sit in the room

None take the action needed

Feasting on their own flesh

Cannibalizing their own business

Never seeing beyond a quality of a quarter year

  • The absence 

They call it something new, a foamy thing

Sucks that carbon right up

Sun powers it like a little engine that could

Will it be enough?

The absence of our own lives is perhaps what we will notice the most
We have been exhumed, exiled and exhausted by the fixing 

Building of the jelly 

  • Hearing the winds 

Out of the gusty trips, the winds are strong hear 

Burning the sky a brilliant red this evening 

Political winds will never curse us

Their is a better way, technology has responded to this curse

The wind directs its power, the change comes like the sands

We survive in our exhibition of new

I’m no expert, but human we are no longer, we have not been since before the clapping of those skeletons 

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Xmass card project 2015 part 2

Those who read my previous art post are likely curious as to who it turns out. Well for your viewing pleasure here are the finished three artworks whole:  
    
  Sorry about the horrible shadows in the photos, I don’t have a A3 sized artwork holder. It’s not likely to be something that’s an issue a lot so it’s not something I have bothered with.

Each of the artworks is in a slightly different style, each then has a connecting style to the other two within the main artwork. One artwork uses a very abstract technique, one a more patterned and flowing technique. The last is a combination of both. I have aslo included fractals, watercolor, and lead shading into them at various points. Though those later techniques aren’t spread across each. You will also note I’ve added a cross view cityscape as well just for kicks. 

I’m basically trying to get as much into each individual card as possible without the finished  artwork looking too busy:

  
5 Their are 24 cards in all. Some are reserved for family members, the rest I’ll be giving to freinds. I like to at least be able to give a thing that’s meaningful from me to each of them. Each card is numbered and dated and will have a personal message to each.

I’m also giving any possible future collector of my art a really tough time in getting all these artworks back together into the original three. I’m not intending the artworks to belong together though. I created them intending them to be split. I am happy for so one to collect them all if they so wish though. 

Next artwork post will be about my Hammersmith comic chapter creation process. Im currently making lots of notes on the process as I’m coming up to chapter 28 which will be the next comic chapter. 

 

Hammersmith. Chapter Twenty Six.

The news wasn’t something Darren took the habit of watching. Today though, he had switched the news on. The sudden wave of feeling, took him by utter suprise.

Without Mary. Without his wife. The house he used to live at was like a empty shell. He hand’t gone back till today. His psychologist suggested that he needed it this morning. That blocking and ignoring his feelings was what was causing his issues. 

The Blue Clan attack came on the wallTV. Brussels was in a mess, Budapest had taken over most the operations of the SOL. It was a declaration of war, or so the news report said. It wasn’t going to be war though. By the time the SOL forces were able to recover the Blue Clan would be gone. 

Darren knew this. Though his main area of expertise was space based combat, it didn’t take a military genius to work out that the Blue Clan had been on a raid. The damage was really quite localized to the SOL forces buildings. Particularly the ones holding military hardware. For some reason the computer science building had been hit too. Not as hard but troops had entered that building. 

The thing was though with the Blue Clan able to effectively cut off half the defenses and attack quick enough that all Luna SOL could do was clean up. Capture any straggling fighters and help with the repairs.

You could bet their would be a quick inquiry into how this happened. Darren tried hard not to think about it. The fact was he couldn’t do anything to help. He was off duty. He was sick. Going full pelt into work again would only cause another breakdown. This one could cost him his job, or worse his life.

He thought of Mary and how they would both sit and look into how to deal with things like this. How they would have chats about strategy, forces, how best to deploy troops to cause maximum successes with minimal damage to people and equipment. Keeping death tolls lo and captures high. Mary was the best and this game. She had become a nurse because she wanted to heal. She joined the military because she water to make things better. Selfless. Mysterious. Beautiful. 

Her photos were on little display screens around the apartment. Ones of her smiling like happy days were here to stay. Ones of her in her uniform, next to him. Ones of their wedding. Ones of her and her dad. He had died just the other year. Now their was no one left in her family. Except Darren.

How do you deal with loosing so much? How? 

Just as he thought that, a message came on to his pad.

Sorry, been called into work on the Brussels mess. Tyr’s pissed. Heads to roll etc. feel free to use my apartment till I’m back in Canada. A

His sister always had a way to make him feel a bit better. The fact she was working on this attack from the intelligence angle meant he felt a little better. He left his apartment. Started on his way to Arlines. He couldn’t stay in his apartment. It was like staying in a ghost. 

—-

He got the her apartment, it was still technically morning so after eating a boiled egg on toast and eating a protein package, Darren took a moment to take him the morning colours of Arlines apartment.

The simple things in hear were not the things that you noticed. The casual obser might think the designer and owner to be a somewhat minimalist. The fact was that it wasn’t actually minimalist would be something that only a those who have the time to pick up the little things.

A little red leaf on a shelf, next to it a tiny gold statue of a doe. Then under that shelf a red colour pairing of a fishing cat on a peer dipping their toes in the grey-red water and wearing a large whimsical red straw hat. Over to the over side of the room another small set of shelves had the same pairing but in blue. Above that though their was a set of books. Nothing unusual about that, if they were normal books. But they were not. They each had a title beginning with letters from Arlines name. A wallTV took up most of the space in the middle of the room. The table in the middle was a finished cedar with small red placemats on it. A vase in the middle had a small plastic red rose in it. That was it for her dining room. It wasn’t a large apartment, so it was also a lounge. In the comer a single red couch sat facing away from the TV. You would be curious about that if you didn’t know Arline. She only had the wallTV for music and motorcycle races. She spent most of her time reading. 

Darren took a look in the spare room. It doubled as the library and wine cabinet. A large selection of Clarets adored one cupboard, books shelves in alphabetical precision sat patiently watching you from the other. A futon, doubled as a bed and couch, and took pretty much all the rest of the room. No wardrobe. Darren would have to live out of his suitcase. It’s not that bad he thought. 

Better than spending the night sobbing himself to sleep as his own memories huant him.