Journal post from yesterday:
A tension throbs in the air like an unconscious hum underpinning the day-lit world. Something is wrong with the valley this year. The mayflowers bloomed in June. The pears are still green on the trees. The owls only came back a week ago. Summer visited for a couple of weeks and then blew a fuse. Already the air is cold and crisp, the shadows sharpened, and it feels like late fall. The villagers are busy stockpiling wood for what promises to be a brutal and vicious winter. The laughter of Our Lady of the Snows can be heard echoing with a furiously icy chill. People in the streets are on edge and the smiles seem less friendly. No sounds of laughter coming from late night parties interrupt the evening silence. Everyone is watching out of the corner of their eyes and holding their collective breaths. Will fortunes turn? Can we will summer back and beg her just to give us a few more days of warmth and pleasure? It feels like nature and the old gods are abandoning us as they wave their heads sadly and sink back into further silence. Day after day of pallid gray is enough to darken anyone's thoughts...
End of journal entry.
Slightly moody, non? I'm finishing up projects and chucking a little glamour into my life before the European premiere of 'L'AUTRE MONDE' at the L'Etrange Film Festival in Paris. I've just finished creating a new character for another script and have been pulling my hair a little trying to figure out some pretty way-out-there science. One way or another I'll make the facts work and give a little more authenticity to the narrative. And we've also just started writing the follow up novel to Saurimonde, which is exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Deep breath. Fall is always a good time for me to start these major creative endeavors as the turning of the seasons invites introspection. But am I ready to write another book? Possibly not. Is anyone ever really ready? Rhetorical question. The last book was an inner journey to hell for me at times. Can I be that brave again? Do I have any real choice? I have a fairly clear sense of the story even if we don't have a hard outline yet. And as these things go, when you start toying with different entities and revisiting forgotten legends and pieces of lore, the synchronicities and coincidences start happening fast and furiously. It's a little like waking a slumbering beast. I wonder if these things are always around me and I don't notice because I'm tuned to another channel that day, or if they happen as markers, little signs to show me I'm on the right path. I'd prefer to believe the second statement. For me, every story I delve into lately ends up being about healing sources (as in ancient water spots - where we get the word sorciere from - those dark women who would scry the sacred waters) and snakes and ladies. Or ladies with aquatic appendages (like mermaids with two tails). Regeneration and rebirth as opposed to virginity and shame. I suspect these will be big themes in the next novel.
I meant to do this on Friday as I want it to start to be an ordinary part of this blog. Fridays are for posting things which have inspired me this week. (Let's just ignore the fact it's already Saturday and will be probably Sunday before I get this posted. In my defense the internet signal has been almost non existent.)
So here we go!
Film maker, Syl Disjonk (ETHEREAL CHRYSALIS) sent this new video he made of a film project they are trying to get together. http://www.jeanpronovost.com/en/the-sphinx.php#.UiUOrtKBnqE I think Jean Pronovost's art work is extremely evocative and provocative and really rather astounding. And remember what I said above about snakes and ladies?
My friend, and fellow esoteric researcher, Ashley Dayour (THE WHISPERS IN THE SHADOW), premiered the new video from his latest project THE DEVIL & THE UNIVERSE. I adore the last album and play it continuously when I'm writing.
THE DEVIL & THE UNIVERSE'S music reminds me of idle pagan things. Of a collision of the distant past and near future. Decaying cities and woodland elementals. Relics of a strange faith which constantly reinvent themselves. It's a heady brew.
There's a strong John Carpenter influence to their music. I'm a huge fan of his scores. Especially 'ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK' which is on heavy rotation around here. I've always had a scene in mind about a woman rollerskating wearing nothing but heavy gold glitter and shiny red lipstick, gliding along the floor with only a single spotlight accompanying her. There's red velvet plush seats around the roller rink only they're darkened, and somewhere out in the shadows she knows her lover is watching her even if she can't see him. She'll twist and turn gracefully, enjoying the sensation of wind blowing against her in time to minimalistic, yet catchy, electronic music (enter the score from 'ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK'). And you can guess where it goes from there. Okay. Maybe it's a personal fantasy. It'd make for a hell of an encounter, or real life erotic adventure, though.
Speaking of heady things, I was just introduced to the art of F.n. Vegas. I'm in awe and in love with her work. This was the first piece I encountered and literally, I can't stop staring at it. I'm always looking for new visual inspiration for writing scenes. Each book I work on has its own special portfolio of pictures which emanates on some level the same feel that I want to conjure into words. I search for images which are representations of something more than the mundane. It's hard to put a finger on it, but you know when you see it. There's some indefinable quality that stirs the blood... .
You can view more of her work here - http://www.etsy.com/shop/FnVegas
In another strange coincidence I just realized in grabbing the links for the artwork that the artist of the work above was the model for the life size woman in bronze with the cephalopod on her head which so entranced me in the video of Jean Provonost's work above. The worlds are small and Melusine is making her presence known once again.
Like I guessed at somewhere near the beginning of this post, it's now Sunday. All good intentions gone to hell. Funny how time flies when you're down the rabbit hole. Time would really have no meaning at all if this pesky thing called reality wouldn't keep rearing its ugly head. Reality wears a wrist watch it constantly taps, and it schedules meetings while haughtily staring down its nose at you and clucking under its breath that you have too much fun.
Fuck reality. We all need more fun and imagination, and the freedom to explore and share those things which inspire us. Celebrate your fellow artists. Celebrate those who enrich your life in any way. And celebrate yourself.
Much love from where the worlds touch,
S - xx
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