Simply Different

365 Days of Creativity

day thirty one

              The tunnel is dark. I wear shades to block out the brightness creeping on from one side. I don't want to go towards the light. I want to sink into the brick wall; merge my way into another universe. The Grey World, that's where I'd go. I'd leave this place where black and white are things to be separated.

              There's much to be said for the need to label good and bad. To alienate and judge others. One life is not better or holier than another. They are simply different. Not by giant contrasts, but by the slightest shades. You walk, I run. I run, he drives. Either way we're all headed to the same place.

              Throw off the chains that bind you to the light. Take a walk on the dark side of the moon. It's not a one way street. I make a suggestion; let's all shrug off the bonds and walk with each other. Let's meet on the equinox. We can live in the border between lands, the place where hatred is smoothed and religion actually does what it claims to be about.

              Come with me to this sweet paradise. You may be scared to leave others behind, but believe me, once you get there you won't care. We can live in this perfectly balanced utopia. Do good or bad, fight for something hard, and love even harder. Taste both the bitter honey and the sweet poison, meet the people you're about to judge and try the things you want to condemn. Come with me, and realize there is a place without light and dark, and it's called Freedom.

Put Your Middle Fingers Up

A self portrait for directing class.

365 Days of Creativity

day thirty

This image represents a sense of rebellion. The need to act out against rules and disobey authority. The girl in this photo is someone who is comfortable with her sexuality and doesn't care what people think. The background is blank, much like that girl's opinion of society. 

Hi Friend

First off I need to apologize for my being MIA. I had a rough weekend and I'm working toward some big changes. But I'm back with a vengeance. I'm going to jump back into the creativeness.

365 Days of Creativity

day twenty nine

A photo for a friend. (click to enlarge)

Insomnia, My Dark Angel

365 Days of Creativity

day twenty eight

         Some people claim to have spirits that stay with them. My demon is Insomnia. Insomnia is a creature, a living entity that has followed me my entire life. I have learned to function on minimal amounts of sleep. With anywhere from 2-5 hours a night, coping with life's daily tasks can sometimes seem mundane and petty. Being late, being ditched, being hungry, it doesn't matter. Everything is going to happen eventually. On really bad days almost nothing could work me up. Every sense is dulled by the heavy weight of missed out sleep. 

         Years and years of sleep deprivation is broken up by few precious months of steady sleep. All it takes is one night. One night where my brain can't shut down, and I'm back in the cycle. Somewhere between weeks three and four of little to no sleep, I start to contemplate the need for sleep. Why rest when we can push ourselves to keep going? I can get so much writing done in 20 hours that it seems cruel to stop for my own human needs. Life is wasted on the living. 

         Even days when I have time to sleep in, I can't. My soul is restless. It needs to move, to change, to be free. I get bored extremely easily. Souls are more delicate and flexible than birds, they can fly higher and see sharper. I realize how much time I waste just sitting around. I don't want to stop, I need to go, to run, to speed, to get away. 

       I hate Insomnia, my dark angel. But it's shadows have showed me that wasted time equals wasted lives. My own curse is one of my biggest sources of power and inspiration. 

       The only thing I miss are the dreams.

The Tiger

365 Days of Creativity

day twenty seven

The tiger crawls around it's cage,

waiting to be free.

Full of nerves and pent up rage,

here comes the killing spree.

Audrey Hepburn as Drawn by Me

365 Days of Creativity

day twenty six

I apologize for the crappy picture quality.

The Stranger Who Cared

365 Days of Creativity

day twenty five

         I was so absorbed in my own life, I didn't even see the leaves change colour. Fall crept in like a curious atheist into a church. Winter was galloping towards me on the steeds of Sir Jack Frost's army. Here and there a spike of cold would nip at your nose and snap at your heels. The hounds that Frost sent ahead to hunt down his next victims. I used to run, I used to hold onto the hope that summer would last, maybe it would just be a chilly autumn this year. But winter always came. I stopped wishing for things that could not be so. Instead, I bent over and let winter give it to me up the ass like a good little boy.

         This year is happening fast. Rain comes down in sheets and washes away every trace of summer. The cold winds sweep up happy times and blow them halfway across the world. Smiles grow sadder and faces longer. People stretch themselves thin trying to escape the depression of the end of the year. They don't realize that each faked smile chips away at the enamel of their happiness.

        The bench at the park was wet, but I sat anyways. Trying to stay dry in Vancouver was like trying to stay wet in the Sahara. I flicked open a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. The rain that fell was considered a drizzle here. Smoke puffed and swam around the rain drops. The water caught the plume on the way down, washing the chemical residue down to the sewers where moldy toads awaited their nic-fits.

       I watched each drop of rain that landed on my hands. The water formed minuscule rivers and streams as it followed the lines of my skin. I turned my palms face up and let two small pools form in the bases of my lifelines. The liquid overflowed and slowly dripped it's way into my jacket sleeves.

       I didn't hear her footsteps. She sat next to me, sliding in quiet as autumn. A thin white unbrella clutched in her right hand, yet her brown hair hung in soggy strands. I looked at the umbrella. She was holding it over my head, not her own. Her blue eyes, electric as the sun, caught mine for a moment. It was no more than a second, but this perfect stranger cared. Actually cared about me. The sizzling sound of the cigarette hitting the ground echoed in my ears as I stood. I got up and I ran. I ran from this strange girl who cared about me, who actually gave a damn. I ran from the alien sight of human empathy. I ran as fast as I could, winter snapping at my heels.

The Quote that Changed my Life

365 Days of Creativity

day twenty four

Not much time today. Very very much beginners calligraphy:

The Bruise

Short story for my creative writing group this week. Theme is Dawn.

365 Days of Creativity

day twenty three

I looked at her face, swollen and bloody from angry fists. Her lip split, her eye the colour of crushed blueberries. She was as beautiful as ever. The pain must have been unbearable, but she didn’t cry. She never cried.

“What was it this time?” I asked gently.

Jodie swept her hair behind her ear and shook her head. “It was my fault, I forgot about the crusts.”

“The crusts?”

She smiled sadly, “I forgot to cut the crusts off the bread.”

I exhaled, bewildered. “You didn’t cut the crust off a sandwich? That’s what triggered this?!”

“It’s ok!” She put her hand on my knee, “I should have paid more attention.”

I brushed her away, “It’s unbelievable, I won’t stand for it.”

Jodie’s hands twisted her shirt hem nervously. “What are you going to do?”

The window was open wide. Soft cotton curtains buffeted in the wind. A crisp blue sky was broken up by popcorn clouds. Air was never found sweeter than it was on the mountain. I moved to the window sill and gazed at the green sea of shimmering grass.

“I don’t know.” The breeze tousled my hair.

Jodie stood up and walked to my side. Her breathe was sweet as summer rain. “I’m going to make some coffee, you want some?”

I shook my head. My stomach could never keep anything down after Jodie got a beating. There was nothing I cared for in the world more than her, yet I was always witness to her pain. Jodie was that deadly combination of loving and strong. Someone who would eternally carry the burden of other’s pain, and bear the weight with a smile.

That was the curse of having a kind heart. The willingness- no - the need to help others. To make a difference, to see the smile on the bullied child’s face, to hold the disturbed man and take the cripple as a lover. Jodie has it, my mother had it, and both are too quick to care. The troubled are not always worthy of love.

The grass was blown into waves, billowing ribbons that led away from the house. Even nature ran away from me. Everyone left, everyone ran, everyone but Jodie. It was her heart that held me together, and her heart that allowed me to tear her apart.

I couldn’t put her through it anymore. My thoughts were broken by the clinking of a spoon against ceramic. I turned and watched this beautiful woman. My strength.

I crossed the room and slid my hands down her shoulders. I wrapped my arms around her and held her softly. She sighed and leaned into my chest.

She wouldn’t leave me, she couldn’t. But I could leave her.

“Jodie...” I whispered into her cloud of hair. “I can’t stay here anymore.”

She spun around. “What?”

“I have to leave, I can’t keep hurting you like this.”

“But it’s not your fault! You don’t know what you’re doing!” Her eye’s burrowed fiercely into mine.

“You’ve helped me, carried me for so long. I can’t put that on you anymore.” I traced her cheek with a finger. My bloody knuckles left a crimson line on her pale skin.

“You’re sick.. you need me. How are you going to live on your own?”

“No Jodie,” I shook my head, “You need me. You need someone to help. What I need is to be alone.”

She sputtered, hurt and confused, “But it’s not safe for you to live alone! You could hurt yourself.”

I took her chin and tilted it towards me. “And that, is infinitely better than me hurting you.”

And that’s when Jodie knew I meant it. Her eyes went wide, her brow softened, and her lip slowly, ever so slowly started to tremble. I leaned in and kissed her, the blood from her wounded lips left a salty, bitter sweet taste in my mouth. As I pulled away I saw the glistening of heart broken tears on her face.

I smiled, “You were the only one who could ever guide me through the darkness, and it’s a new day now.”

Why Fight Club is So Important to Me

365 Days of Creativity

day twenty two

Fight Club

"I want you to hit me, as hard as you can." A viscous proposition made from a dangerous man; Tyler Durden, Fight Club. While there is no doubt that movies are powerful, nothing has done as Tyler said, and hit me as hard as this one. Very few films have ever changed my opinion on something, let alone stop me dead in my tracks. Fight Club did this and more. I was halted, spun, and shoved in a completely new direction. There are a plethora of things in this movie that rang true with me, but most of all was the idea of taking control while letting go.

Life is a slippery thing. It bounces all over the place and if you're not quick, it'll slide right past you. I always thought of myself as a spontaneous person, someone who would take a risk. Until I watched Fight Club, I never knew how much I was missing. What I thought was surprise and opportunity was always a safe bet. The jobs, the friends, the relationships. I never did anything that I wanted to unless there was some sort of reasoning behind it. I was quickly being molded into the consumer sheep that all of society is doomed to be. Then, like a kick to the throat, Fight Club was there. The film justified every adrenaline crazed action that I wanted to take, it urged me to get those tattoos, it supported my most feral impulses. The world made sense as soon as I heard one line;

"I don't want to die without any scars"

-Narrator, Fight Club

Poof, my worries were gone. My nerves, my apprehensions, all erased. I knew in that moment that I could do anything. I might fall, I might break, I might make a complete ass out of myself, but at least when I die I'll know that I've lived. That I took every crazy, risky opportunity that came my way, and didn't let anyone shit on me.

Fight Club has the kind of story that rings true in one way or another with almost every one. Whether it be that your possessions own you, or that you’re in a relationship where half the time you don’t know if your friend has been replaced with a completely different person. Most of the time I feel that I myself have been switched with someone else. Actions, words and self-destructive tendencies that seem to come from some alternate personality. Fight Club helped me realize that, like the Narrator, I kept projecting my problems onto someone else instead of realizing that I was merely manifesting my own issues.

Seldom is it that an action film is one to change lives, but Fight Club is a rare breed of storytelling and moral shaking. For me it was a wake up call, a reminder that living while you’re young is not a sin. This movie is what I think of every time I get nervous, every moment that I falter before taking a leap. Now I don’t hesitate to live past my boundaries, to take control, by letting my inhibitions go. This movie is the law of my life. I will never back down, never give up, and never play it safe, because I don’t want to die without any scars.

Kiss the Coroner

The following is a short film that I wrote.

Ms. Monroe Wears a Gas Mask

365 Days of Creativity

day twenty one

Hollywood is Toxic

inspired by Hollywood is Dead

A Quote By Banksy

First off, a HUGE thank you to everyone who reads my ravings and ramblings. We have officially surpassed the 2'000 views mark! I hope those of you who have stuck with me have enjoyed everything, or at least a few of the things that I've done.

If not, as always, go fork yourself.

365 Days Of Creativity

day twenty

The green is a much better colour in person. But no excuses, I just plain suck at some things.

In Which I Make Muffins

I said that I wasn't going to watch Game Of Thrones until I finished reading the series, but I watched the first episode the other night and god damn if I didn't like it. 

So I'm currently working through the series which looks like it's been very well done. Of course not all of the characters match what I pictured, Cersei isn't the hottest shit ever and is clearly not naturally blonde, and Joffrey looks, as my friend so delicately put it, looks like a swedish girl that ran into a wall.

If you want to check the series out you can watch it free here: (no downloading or membership needed)

http://tubeplus.me/player/1840201//

365 Days of Creativity

day nineteen

Apple Banana Oatmeal Muffins

Part of living on a budget means I can't always buy the healthiest or most gourmet foods. So I'm starting to experiment.

For this simple and super cheap recipe you'll need a few things.

One ripe banana, one apple, and cinnamon & sugar.

I cheated and bought the premade muffin mix, but seriously, it's cheap and delicious. And a huge time saver.

First dump your mix into the bowl, and add the water.

Take your banana and mush it up in a separate bowl.

Add cinnamon and sugar. I just eyeballed it, I'd say one table spoon. (I reaaaally like cinnamon and sugar)

Chop up your apple. Diced I should say.

Mix together the mushed banana and C&S, and the apple pieces with the muffin mix.

Pour into muffin tins. I sprinkled more C&S on top. (I seriously love it) and I used cupcake liners because there's way less cleanup, and you save calories on the greasing of the tin. (though I'm sure I make up for it)

Next, let bake about 25 minutes, cool, and enjoy! Oh, and just a warning, they smell like mini doughnuts at the fair when they bake, so maybe grab a drool bib.

Price breakdown: (hit up the dollar store!)

Apple and Banana: $1 each

(I don't know the price of a single one, so lets round up)

Muffin cups: $.50

Muffin tin: $1.25

Muffin mix: $1.25

Cinnamon&sugar: $1

So there you have it, at least 12 delicious Apple Banana Oatmeal muffins for 5 bucks! Who said baking is expensive?

In Which I Have Red Lips and Wear Sunglasses

365 Days of Creativity

day eighteen

Sometimes I dink around a little bit in photoshop:

A Story in Three Moments

365 Days of Creativity

day seventeen

This is my first assignment for Cinematography class. Tell a story in three photos. Big thanks goes to the gorgeous Sophie for posing for me.

                                           

Beware the Industry Sketch

365 Days of Creativity

day sixteen

Today is nothing special, just a doodle I did while dying of boredom in Editing. (it was intro day, fuuuuuck.)

Selfless?

365 Days of Creativity

day fifteen

A poem that I wrote for my presentation for film class next week. This is an example of a self reflective poem that helps me find inspiration by looking at who I am.

Selfless?

My self is less.

My self is nothing more than chests,

than vacancies that I've suppressed

and stuffed and filled with nothingness.

No hinderance or moral story,

I hear nothing of that glory.

I steal, I cheat, I lie for fun,

have no remorse when it is done.

An echo of the former me,

not a shade of who I want to be.

'So change!' they say,

'Be good instead!'

I slowly, sadly,

shake my head.

For I know I can never stop,

I am a leopard

These are my spots.

Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas Painting

Today was my first day of classes at film school. I had Production and Cinematography. My production teacher is really cool, but I think I'll probably find the class a little boring.

My cinematography teacher is so awesome. He's a temp for this semester who got pulled away from working on the new Superman, (poor guy, he would have made so much more on that project.) But he is hilarious. He has no business teaching, but I think it's a perfect fit. Earl doesn't edit himself and uses comparisons between shitty films and porno's. Seriously, he's such a realistic man. He knows that we're here for money (and art, whateva) and he knows that some of the course work is bullshit, so he's just not going to teach it. My kind of professor.

I'll keep you posted on the film school affairs, and don't forget to vote on my blog!

365 Days of Creativity:

day fourteen

This is the template for two long canvas pieces that I want to do for my living room. 

The blue on the Loathing is waaaaay too dark, but my paint was not cooperating.

I don't know if it's some art school secret, or just because I bought dollar store paints, but when I was mixing the paints they became a lumpy mush that I had to smear across the paper... delightful.

The Need for Survival, (or Lack There Of)

My friends and I have started a sort of online creative writing class. We live in different cities, and we're preoccupied with other classes, but we enjoy writing. Weekly assignments and peer critiquing allows us to do what we love without the pressure of marks or grades.

Our theme for this week was Survival.

365 Days of Creativity

day thirteen

The Need for Survival, (or Lack There Of)

How boring it is

year after year,

to live without risk

to live without fear.

To know that no knife,

or blade, or spear,

can tamper your life,

or cause you to veer.

A hundred hello's,

a thousand goodbye's.

What else can I do,

to use up the time?

What difference is there

from dead to alive,

when you don't even need

to try to survive?

DIY Closet Doors Into Headboard- Completed

365 Days of Creativity

day twelve

I have finished the headboard! Let me know how you like it.

Easiest do it yourself closet door headboard project ever.

We just got the nightstand on the right for free today. At the end of the month we'll get a matching one for the other side. We'll paint it to more compliment the colour scheme of the room.

DIY Closet Doors Into Headboard

365 Days of Creativity

day eleven

I'm starting a little assignment to try and decorate the mediocre space that my boyfriend and I have. The thing is (if you haven't already noticed) we're really tight on money. So this whole redecorating thing has to be cheap. Or better yet, free.

I've been living on craigslist lately. So many people are giving away their stuff, and not all of it's trash. I got some Marilyn Monroe coasters, some video games, the series "City of Umber" and best thing: an all-in-one printer/ scanner. 

I put up an ad in the wanted section for things I was looking for, and sure enough I got a message about some paint. I went and picked up my things, and found some doors on the way:

So I'm planning on using the doors as a head board. It may sound weird, but once it's all set up tomorrow, you might just like it.

Step one,

Mix the paint.

Step two, paint the doors white

fooling around with el camera

Step three, the hottest sun in weeks dried the paint so fast, we could paint our detail right away.

We were trying to go for a worn/old look. I had no clue how to do it, and we only had our dollar store brushes to work with, so here's to hoping they turn out.

Step four, hasn't really happened yet. But it's wait for the doors to dry and set up.

So in total I spent: $2.50

The doors were free, and the paint was an answer to my ad, also free.

The 2.50 was from buying two paintbrushes. (dollar store of course)

Oh, I also made muffins. Pre-made mix because it was a dollar from the dollar store. Yeah being broke!

Don't forget to vote on how you like my blog!!

The Break-Up

Between work and catching up with some lovely friends, I had barely any time to jot this poem down. And I passed out before I had the chance to post it. So here is yesterday's piece of creativity.

365 Days of Creativity

day ten

Little white lights,

they spark my mind.

Erase all the memories-

Love is blind.

The pain has gone,

to where I can't find.

To the depths of the shadows,

with all of the lies.

Your silence is louder

than any scream.

I know what you're saying-

You're done with me.

Forgive and forget,

for your words cut deep.

But I know you're all talk.

You'll be back in a week.

Terrible Crossfire Sketch

Today is a work in progress. A drawing for my brother's birthday. It was going ok until I decided to try pencil crayons. Why WHY did I do that?

Anyways, this is it so far, currently trying to be salvaged with sharpie.

365 Days of Creativity

day nine

The Great Adavera

This is a story. Or perhaps the beginning of a story. I don't know if I'll write anymore. If you want to hear more vote "Interesting" on the bottom of the post.

Don't forget to let me know how you like my blog in the poll!

And yes, this would be a child/preteen story, so it's probably not for everyone.

365 Days of Creativity

day eight

Ally jumped up and down on her bed. Her brunette curls bounced in front of her eyes.

"Hey, monkey! No more jumping on the bed, it's time to sleep." I picked her up and gently laid her against her pillows.

"But Mooooooom, I'm not-"

"Tired?" I interrupted. "You say that every night and every night you pass out faster than I do when your dad talks stocks."

Ally giggled. "Yah, but tonight I'm really REALLY not tired."

I reached over and swept one of her silky locks off her forehead. "Really really?" I asked.

She nodded sincerely. "I want to hear the seashell story."

I gave her a stern look.

"I mean!" She fumbled to correct her self, "Can I please hear the seashell story? Daddy says it's your best story of all."

"Well, it is new to you, but that's a long story, are you sure you want to hear it?"

Ally nodded.

"And it can be scary, are you sure you won't get scared?"

All tossed her hair back, "I'm the bravest little girl there is, even Daddy says so."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow, "Well then it must be true."

She squished into her pillows excitedly and pulled her covers up to her chin. "Ok, ready." She declared.

"Ok, if your sure you can handle it." After one more affirming nod from her, I began. "Once there was a little girl. She was a lot like you. Her and her mommy lived together in a little house by the sea. Her Daddy died in the war, and she missed him very much.

Everyday the little girl would go down to the shore and pick the prettiest shell could find. Only one of them. Once she had thirty shells, her Mommy would tell her to pick her favourite. Then she took the little girl to the cemetery, and they would put the shell on the Daddy's grave.

And so it went. For years they collected shells until the girl was old enough to walk to the cemetery alone. The grave was almost completely covered now.

One month, the young woman, (for she was quite grown up now) walked to deliver the seashell. This one was especially nice. It had the perfect pearly finish on the inside, that shone wonderfully under the quarter moon. (She always went on the quarter moon because that's when she thought it was prettiest.) And the top of the shell was hardly ridged at all, but had dark stripes on it, like that of a tigers.

And so she walked, not seeing the leaves stir and trees tremble. She was too busy looking at the lovely shell and thinking about how she would like to swim out to sea and just float with the turtles and dolphins and all the fantastic creatures of the ocean.

By the time the girl got to the cemetery the wind had pick up quite a bit. She held her shell close and pushed open the heavy gate.

Gusts of wind pulled her clothes this way and that, and her hair was thrown about her face. She couldn't see much, but she knew the way to her father's grave like she knew the smell of the sea.

She saw the flowers that old man Nicholas always left for his wife, and knew her dad was two rows over. Worried that all her shells might be blowing around, she ran the rest of the way. But when she got to her father's grave, all the shells were just as she left them.

The girl bent down and placed the newest addition. Just... there, yes that's perfect. She thought. The shell nestled into it's new home, and suddenly the wind stopped.

The young lady looked around. It was dark, too dark. Something was wrong.

Suddenly, she could hear a music box. It was plinking and plunking and getting louder and louder. She could also hear squeaking, like a door thirsty for oil.

Coming slowly out of the darkness was a bit tall box The top half of the box was glass. The bottom was faded and rusted, but you could still see some colour on the old tin siding.

Looking closer, the girl saw that it was an old fortune teller booth, like they used to have at fairs. It's neglected wheels were bringing it noisily closer.

The girl had nowhere to hide, so she stood there as the box wheeled right up to her. A dim red light came on inside the glass, and something started whirring in the bottom of the box. She could see a dark something starting to move.

A dark lump raised up, draped in crimson silk. A skeletal hand came off the base of the box and slowly reached under the cloth. The music was losing rhythm, and the plunking of the song slowed to a stop.

And then!"

Ally gasped, her eyes wide as tennis balls.

I paused for dramatic effect.

"And then the veil was thrown back, and a gypsy woman stared at the girl. Her face was mostly hidden with the same red fabric, but her eyes stared out. Or, I should say, the shadows where her eyes should have been.

The girl screamed and jumped backwards, but a chair appeared behind her and she fell right into it.

The gypsy watched her. When she finally spoke it was a harsh rattling sound, and her words were pulled around by the strange accent she had. 'Vat is your name?' She asked.

'Me?... n-uh,' the young girl stammered.

'Me-nuh? Mina?' The gypsy looked her up and down. 'That is an unusual name for such a regular girl.'

'Who are you?' Mina asked.

'I, am the Great Adavera.' She gave a grand flourish with her skeletal hand. 'The best fortune teller and seer in the history of Ore.'

'Of.. Ore?'

'Yes! Of Ore! You do not believe me? Let me show you.'

Mina watched Adavera testily. The gypsy beckoned her closer with a bony finger. Mina slowly stood up and approached the booth.

Adavera reached into her robes and pulled out a perfectly clear crystal ball. She raised it up to her face and whispered something ever so softly. The ball came to life with a small white bead in the center. The tiny sphere rotated and started to unfurl. Little wisps of smoke extended here and there. A tendril reached out and pressed against the globe.

Adavera put the ball onto a velvet stand. The red light in the booth gave the smoke a ruby hue.

'Come child, tell the ball who you are.' Adavera waved Mina up to the glass.

She moved foward slowly, 'What do I say?'

'Tell it what you are doing here.'

'I- um,' Mina leaned into the glass, when she spoke her breathe created a small circle of fog. 'I came to the cemetery to give my dad his seashell.' The fog from her words slowly seeped through the glass. The small cloud was pulled into the slowly rotating smoke in the crystal ball.

The smoke churned and turned a dark angry grey. Adavera reached her hand into the globe. She slowly pushed through the glass, and grabbed something in the cloud. The hem of her sleeve touch the ball and it sizzled away instantly. When Adavera pulled out her hand, the white bones were steaming. Clenched in the skinny fingers was something grey and striped.

Mina's eyes went wide and she burst out in protest, 'Hey! That's for my father's grave!'

Adavera stared at her with shadowy sockets. 'Don't vorry Mina, it hasn't been moved.'

Mina looked down to her fathers grave, only to realize it was gone. Every grave was gone. The landscape was all the same, yet nothing was there.

'Where are we? What did you do?!' Mina demanded.

'I didn't do anything.' Adavera held out the shell, her hand reaching through the glass.

Mina ignored her hand. 'What are you?!' She spat.

'I am your wake up call.'

'Get away from me!' Mina screamed.

And suddenly the shell was falling. The gypsy booth was gone. The shell landed softly on the ground. A thick black moss covered everything.

Mina breathed heavily. She bent down and picked up the shell. It was indeed identical to hers. If anything maybe a bit more vibrant.

Mina looked around, seeing only shapes that she could barely make out by starlight. Starlight? She looked up, where has the moon gone? 

And so Mina stood in this strange world, alone and afraid."

I turned to Ally and kissed her forehead.

She looked puzzled. "And?" She asked.

"And what?" I said.

"Aaaaaand, what happens next? What happens to Mina, where did the gypsy lady go?!"

I smiled and winked. "They went to bed, and so should you."

"But!"

"But nothing. That was plenty of story, and if you're a very good girl tomorrow, I might tell you some more." I stood up and moved towards the door.

"Night Mommy." Ally blew me a kiss and snuggled into bed.

"Goodnight monkey." I shut the door.

MirrorMask Movie Review

First off, thanks to everyone who voted on your favourite Quentin Tarantino movie. The official winner was Kill Bill 1&2! Which is kind of cheating, because it's 2x the Tarantino goodness.

For those of you who are too lazy to comment/don't have anything to say, I've made a new poll just so you can still give me some feedback. I really want to know what you think. So be sure to vote on how you like my blog!

365 Days of Creativity

day seven

MirrorMask Movie Review

Always gotta have a spoiler alert.

MirrorMask is a fantastical film about a young girl who is transported to the world that she's created in her art. Reminiscent of fantasy classics like Alice in Wonderland, it's delivered to us by Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean. Neil Gaiman has quite an impressive wrap sheet with writings including Coraline, Stardust, and Beowulf.

While the plot can be a bit drawn out at times, and first time feature director Dave McKean seems to put visual enticements before either plot or character development, all in all, I was highly impressed.

These two creative minds definitely know how to steal you away for a couple hours, and MirrorMask is them a their finest.  You're immersed into a world that runs on the balance between light and dark (a concept that I love) and every single aspect of the realm is creative, exciting, and dangerously intriguing. I feel that if I was the main character, there's no way I'd get shit done. I'd be too busy feeding pages to the sphinx's or riding books around.

The movie is visually stunning. The costume design, art direction and every single thing you see is astonishing. From the villains to the creatures, to even the circus folk in real life, you can't take your eyes off the screen. And you don't want to.

Favourite Quote: "You can't run away from home without destroying someone's world."

Favourite Character: Valentine. Helena's witty, distracted sidekick in her magical land. He's everything you need to know about what kind of world you've just been thrust into.

The Orbiting Giants are a close second though. They are two huge intertwined stone people who forever float around tall pedestals. They are the keepers of the key, and it makes sense that they would be, since they are the definition of balance. They stay where they are because while the gravity of one pushes itself downwards, the gravity of the other pushes upwards. Perfect balance.

Least Favourite Character: The annoying mime-y sound effects guy in the real world. Yes you're in a circus, but you can use your big boy words. Making noises isn't a talent (in his case), it's as terrible and unneeded as the sound effects on a radio show. Zing!

Favourite Scene: Why do I torture myself like this? Every scene is as beautiful and well acted as the next. If I had to pick, and I do, because I'm making myself, it would have to be the scene where the Queen of Shadows is meeting with her councilmen. She has this amazing costume on. White lipstick against a silver mask that is totally bordered by silky black feathers. Uh, gorgeous. And I'm a little impartial to the all-black eyes.

Oh! And the scene where Helena is being changed by the music boxes. That version of The Carpenters' Close To You is simultaneously breath taking and bone chilling. Wonderfully deadly.
In fact, here it is!

Least Favourite Scene: I want to say that I feel like the beginning of the movie is drawn out too far, but I think that's because I love the alternate world so much more. 

Favourite Actor in a Role: Or in this case roles, Gina McKee. She was fantastic as all three of her characters. Especially the two that involved a lot of laying down and being unconscious. But really her Queen of Shadows had me rooting for the dark to swallow up the light in this one.

Least Favourite Actor in a Role: This is hard, there weren't too many important roles, and I liked all of the main ones. The person I liked least was one of the real life circus crew. She's french, and talks about how she's leaving with her sister. I think they're acrobats. Either way, I didn't like her voice and especially her face.

Favourite Actor in General: Again, difficult because it was not a hollywood blockbuster, so there's none of the familiar names or faces. Stephanie Leonidas is my pick after this film though. She did great as the creative Helena. She was sweet, brave, and harsh where she needed to be. Brava.

There's really no point to do a least favourite actor on this one, every who was of importance did fantastic.

MirrorMask is officially on my top movies list, and it's one I'm sure I'll watch many more times.

The beautiful, mysterious and true MirrorMask. I definitely recommend it.