It was a particularly lovely morning in my cottage, the rain had just stopped except for a light drizzle still falling. I just finished baking several loaves of cornbread and stepped outside, the air smelled sweet and clean. It was a good day to take a short journey to one of my friends in the upper worlds.
I typically like to journey through a tiny hole in the roots of a huge willow tree that lies just beyond my garden. So I wandered out past the fragrant herbs and myrtle to what is my favorite traveling tree. I could hear a woodpecker tapping away at the tree, which usually meant there was a message for me, but not always. I could smell the basil and mint growing in my garden and thought I better pick some when I return home. As I approached the willow tree I noticed the glint of metal at its base, right where my entrance should be.
As I got closer I made a startling discover. There was an ornate metallic tube stuck in the entrance hole! I removed it from the hole easily and examined the odd device. The metal was embossed with curlicues, dots, dashes and the letters “T.A.G” were in the center. It was encrusted with all different colored gems on one end along with a few gears and screws. I turned a small crank on the end cap and it slid off as a puff of steam escaped.
Inside was a scroll of delicate gold rimmed paper with writing and a tiny skeleton key. I pulled out the scroll gently and unrolled it. It read, “Your presence is cordially requested at Guild HQ. Please come promptly!” On the bottom of the parchment in gold writing it said “Traveling Artists Guild,” and was dated today! My heart was pounding wildly as I looked at the tiny map enclosed showing me how to travel there through the tiny hole in my Willow tree that I was all too familiar with. I was so excited to receive such a glorious invitation!
I quickly went back into my cottage and packed my travel case and knapsack for my trip. I took along a few loaves of fresh baked corn bread, herb butter, tea, chocolates, a parcel of meat-cakes, a flask of cider, wedge of cheese, apron, scarf, candle, skillet, pocket knife, 3 gold coins, my best pen, journal, bag of magic dust, art box and my traveling companion Henney. I posted a note on my door that said “be back soon” and headed back to the willow tree, grabbling bunches of basil and daisies on my way. I made myself as tiny as I could then headed right down the hole.
It’s always wondrous to travel to other worlds, much like an amusement park ride I hear, but better. This wasn’t going to be a long trip at all. I slipped down the Willow roots till I hit the Mitzie line root. I slid along that till I came to golden rock; the map showed me that I was to travel to the end of the Chalke tunnel directly to its right. I followed the tunnel down till I hit a fork and headed left. I could feel a breeze and hear water moving and knew I was getting close to the Booku stream. When I got to the stream there was a small red boat with a tiny white sail tied to a dock. I slipped onto the boat and untied it from the dock, and it gently moved away without me doing a thing.
The water below me was clear and luminescent; it lit the tunnel. I could see dozens of fish in all sizes, colors and patterns had surrounded the boat. They were carrying the tiny boat and directing it downstream, it took me quite a ways. The tunnel walls that surround the stream was a deep dark rumpled red, and at one point I could reach out and touch the walls and it felt like soft velvet! It was a peaceful ride, but a bit bumpy at times. As I rested I took a chocolate from my bag and plopped it in my mouth, and thought, this is the life! The boat finally stopped at a small dock where I saw a sign that read “Guild HQ.” I jumped out onto the small dock and gathered up my belongings. I took out a loaf of bread, pulled it into pieces and tossed it to the fish to thank them.
It was pretty dark but there were many torches lit around the dock. I picked up one and headed down the tunnel carrying my trunk; knapsack, daisies and basil. I finally reached a large door that was slightly ajar. As I reached for the knocker the door opened to reveal a very, very tall thin man wearing a purple top hat and tails. He said in a very low voice “Welcome to Guild Hall Keggy Featherwolf, welcome indeed!” he then winked and saluted me in whimsical way and with a huge smile, introduced himself saying. “Duboi, at your service, please allow me to escort you to the main hall.” Duboi carried my trunk as I followed him down a long corridor. Then he stopped at a large pair of mahogany doors and swung them open. I gasped as I saw what was inside.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Traveling artist guild
So, I joined the Traveling Artist Guilds which requires me to post on a fantasy journey I am taking. (On a blog no less.) So, I have a blog over on wordpress that is with the rest of the guild.
I am thinking of posting some of the work here... if I can it will begin to happen today.
Keep in mind nobody is checking my grammar, puncuation or anything else, which is one of the reasons I tend not to blog.
I am thinking of posting some of the work here... if I can it will begin to happen today.
Keep in mind nobody is checking my grammar, puncuation or anything else, which is one of the reasons I tend not to blog.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Blogging
So they say people like me are blog challenged. Guess its true cause I just spent considerable time trying to fix this page and have not gotten far. I don't know how to edit my posts and I don't know how to get my own work on the slideshows. I need a blogging class.
Anywhooo... I am posting here today because its been 4 months since I made my last promise to post regularly. I still haven't taken those paintings apart and I need to buy a new camera that will alow me to upload easily.
Worst of all.. I had to start a new blog! I joined the Traveling Artist Guild and started a blog on wordpress. No, there is nothing on there. I loaded a post.. can't see it. I wanted to load a picture and haven't a clue how to do that.
But on a positive note, I posted this here today. :)
Anywhooo... I am posting here today because its been 4 months since I made my last promise to post regularly. I still haven't taken those paintings apart and I need to buy a new camera that will alow me to upload easily.
Worst of all.. I had to start a new blog! I joined the Traveling Artist Guild and started a blog on wordpress. No, there is nothing on there. I loaded a post.. can't see it. I wanted to load a picture and haven't a clue how to do that.
But on a positive note, I posted this here today. :)
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Well
I am really trying to keep this up blog thing and not doing well.
I want to make a short video to document something artistic and bizzare that happened. It is evidence (I feel) that time is not linear and things are not as they appear.
Here is the story that goes with it.. My grandfather was an artist, sculpture, cartoonist and architect who lived from 1886 to 1980. He made thousands of paintings that he sold and gave away, when he died there were still a few hundred in my mothers possession.
My mother and I had moved in with him when I was about 17, and he was in his late eighties. It was my job to keep him company, cook and clean etc. I did that for about two years until he felt more independent (yes thats true)then I moved out on my own. He enjoyed torturing me many ways, but one way was by not allowing me to have any of his artwork. He would give away his paintings all the time. My sisters or other family members (and strangers) would visit and they would always walk out the door with art. But not me because I was not married.
Of course I would object to his ridiculous unfairness that I had to be married, and so would my mom. And on at least two occassions when that happened he gave me a gift. One time he gave me artwork done by my grandmother, a beautiful needlepoint. I didn't get to keep that, it was regifted to my sister by my mother years later. He also gave me a painting of a women with a cow someone did, only because he felt nobody would ever want it.
There was one painting he did that I liked a lot as a kid. It was of a castle. He would offer it to people when they came over, he would offer to sell it to them dirt cheap. He would tell them I wanted it but I could only hae it if I paid him $500 dollars but they could have it for $200. He wouldn't give it away because he was afraid they would give it to me. I couldn't afford it since I only got paid 25 dollars a week to take care of him. When he died my mom gave me that painting, but in the months before he died (age 93) he removed the frame and threw it away and touched up the painting adding "people" to it. Take what you want from that, but he was mean.
Over the years there was another painting I liked. It was a watercolor of the lighthouse at Montauk Point on Long Island. My sisters and I all liked it. It hung in our living room for years. I wanted it because it went with my house and I had little else from him but the doctored castle. But my sisters did not agree I should have it. My mother kept it in the basement, she didn't know what to do with it and one day I think she was pretty much convinced I should have it. When she went to retrieve it is was missing.
A couple more years went by and lots of anger festered in me about not getting artwork. I finnally poured my heart out to my mom (that she gave his art to strangers but not me just like he did) It was pretty much all gone by this point. She said she had a few pieces left that nobody wanted and offered them to me.
Here is where it gets interesting. She sent me home with several really old pieces. One of them was a watercolor piece of a lake or river with a hideous frame with cracked glass, the mat was yellow and the painting had a tear in it from the glass cutting into it. I stuck that painting behind my couch where it stayed.
About a year later someone moved the couch and we saw the glass had broken more tearing the painting even more. I took the painting out of the frame and decided to store it in my portfolio. But, I couldn't fit it in because the mat was so huge, so I decided to remove the mat.
As I pulled the tape off the back of the mat I could see that there was a second paper taped behind tha painting, which was odd. I pulled it back and I don't even know how to explain the feeling.. It was like I had lost my mind and the universe was just spinning around my head. The second paper had an identical painting of the montauk lighthouse on it that had gone missing years before!
It was so unbeleivable I just stopped pulling on it I thought I would faint. The two paintings are still stuck together now because I want to video pulling them apart, even though I can't imagine anyone believing this story even if they see the video. From what I can see the painting looks similar but different from the one that went missing years ago but essentially its the same.
Of all the hundreds of paintings my grandfather did in this size, for him to have accidentally taped it behind the other and for me to wind up with it so many years later (70 years later) is just nuts. It makes me wonder did he wonder what happened to this painting and do it again? Because he didn't repeat scenes (unless he was paid too do that) Did he talk about it to me when I lived with him and I just blurred it out.. cause he talked a lot.
So in effect what I have would be his original.. original.. painting of the Montauk Lighthouse... which is so cool.
So what I will post is the video (hopefully) that I will make when the two paintings are pulled apart, and I also have a picture somewhere that has the other montauk point painting in the background... hopefully the difference is obvious... we shall see. I can't wait to hang it in my living room :)
I want to make a short video to document something artistic and bizzare that happened. It is evidence (I feel) that time is not linear and things are not as they appear.
Here is the story that goes with it.. My grandfather was an artist, sculpture, cartoonist and architect who lived from 1886 to 1980. He made thousands of paintings that he sold and gave away, when he died there were still a few hundred in my mothers possession.
My mother and I had moved in with him when I was about 17, and he was in his late eighties. It was my job to keep him company, cook and clean etc. I did that for about two years until he felt more independent (yes thats true)then I moved out on my own. He enjoyed torturing me many ways, but one way was by not allowing me to have any of his artwork. He would give away his paintings all the time. My sisters or other family members (and strangers) would visit and they would always walk out the door with art. But not me because I was not married.
Of course I would object to his ridiculous unfairness that I had to be married, and so would my mom. And on at least two occassions when that happened he gave me a gift. One time he gave me artwork done by my grandmother, a beautiful needlepoint. I didn't get to keep that, it was regifted to my sister by my mother years later. He also gave me a painting of a women with a cow someone did, only because he felt nobody would ever want it.
There was one painting he did that I liked a lot as a kid. It was of a castle. He would offer it to people when they came over, he would offer to sell it to them dirt cheap. He would tell them I wanted it but I could only hae it if I paid him $500 dollars but they could have it for $200. He wouldn't give it away because he was afraid they would give it to me. I couldn't afford it since I only got paid 25 dollars a week to take care of him. When he died my mom gave me that painting, but in the months before he died (age 93) he removed the frame and threw it away and touched up the painting adding "people" to it. Take what you want from that, but he was mean.
Over the years there was another painting I liked. It was a watercolor of the lighthouse at Montauk Point on Long Island. My sisters and I all liked it. It hung in our living room for years. I wanted it because it went with my house and I had little else from him but the doctored castle. But my sisters did not agree I should have it. My mother kept it in the basement, she didn't know what to do with it and one day I think she was pretty much convinced I should have it. When she went to retrieve it is was missing.
A couple more years went by and lots of anger festered in me about not getting artwork. I finnally poured my heart out to my mom (that she gave his art to strangers but not me just like he did) It was pretty much all gone by this point. She said she had a few pieces left that nobody wanted and offered them to me.
Here is where it gets interesting. She sent me home with several really old pieces. One of them was a watercolor piece of a lake or river with a hideous frame with cracked glass, the mat was yellow and the painting had a tear in it from the glass cutting into it. I stuck that painting behind my couch where it stayed.
About a year later someone moved the couch and we saw the glass had broken more tearing the painting even more. I took the painting out of the frame and decided to store it in my portfolio. But, I couldn't fit it in because the mat was so huge, so I decided to remove the mat.
As I pulled the tape off the back of the mat I could see that there was a second paper taped behind tha painting, which was odd. I pulled it back and I don't even know how to explain the feeling.. It was like I had lost my mind and the universe was just spinning around my head. The second paper had an identical painting of the montauk lighthouse on it that had gone missing years before!
It was so unbeleivable I just stopped pulling on it I thought I would faint. The two paintings are still stuck together now because I want to video pulling them apart, even though I can't imagine anyone believing this story even if they see the video. From what I can see the painting looks similar but different from the one that went missing years ago but essentially its the same.
Of all the hundreds of paintings my grandfather did in this size, for him to have accidentally taped it behind the other and for me to wind up with it so many years later (70 years later) is just nuts. It makes me wonder did he wonder what happened to this painting and do it again? Because he didn't repeat scenes (unless he was paid too do that) Did he talk about it to me when I lived with him and I just blurred it out.. cause he talked a lot.
So in effect what I have would be his original.. original.. painting of the Montauk Lighthouse... which is so cool.
So what I will post is the video (hopefully) that I will make when the two paintings are pulled apart, and I also have a picture somewhere that has the other montauk point painting in the background... hopefully the difference is obvious... we shall see. I can't wait to hang it in my living room :)
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Here we go again...
I realize my biggest problems with this thing is that
1) I don't know how use the blog and
2) I don't remember to use it
3) I know that I am going to mispell, use bad grammar, wrong punctuation and whatever else... which keeps me from trying.
But, I have found I keep saying I should work on that blog, so work on it I will.
Today March 28 2010 I hereby promise to work on this thing.
1) I don't know how use the blog and
2) I don't remember to use it
3) I know that I am going to mispell, use bad grammar, wrong punctuation and whatever else... which keeps me from trying.
But, I have found I keep saying I should work on that blog, so work on it I will.
Today March 28 2010 I hereby promise to work on this thing.
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