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Sunday, September 30, 2012

Sickness no more

"It's always darkest before it's completely black."
-Mao Tse Tung

"There's treasure everywhere!" 
-Calvin

Well good morning, internet! How are you? composed exclusively of ones and zeroes, i'm sure. I know it's been awhile since my last post, but I'm back, and i feel like a hydrogen bond; Weakly attracting and being attracted to other water molecules, allowing ice to float and certain insects to walk on the surface of especially still water. 
"Jesus Bugs" Charlie Harper

Anyway, i'm feeling like i woke up in a different dimension today. Not completely different, you see, just a little bit different. Like maybe a dimension where paperclips don't exist or function in a different way, just something that perhaps you wouldn't immediately recognize, but is totally different none the less. So, in this vein, i think i'll post here my Time Machine, Pieces. These aren't new, i did them as a project for my children's book illustration class. They turned out a little terrifying for a children's book, but i like them none the less. they're all done on Scratchboard.    


Excerpt From 'The Time Machine" by H.G. Wells:
Necessarily my memory is vague. Great shapes like big machines rose out of the dimness, and cast grotesque black shadows, in which dim spectral Morlocks sheltered from the glare. The place, by the by, was very stuffy and oppressive, and the faint halitus of freshly shed blood was in the air.It was all very indistinct: the heavy smell, the big unmeaning shapes, the obscene figures lurking in the shadows, and only waiting for the darkness to come at me again! Then the match burned down, and stung my fingers, and fell, a wriggling red spot in the blackness.I was afraid to push my way in among all this machinery in the dark, and it was only with my last glimpse of light I discovered that my store of matches had run low. Now, as I say, I had four left, and while I stood in the dark, a hand touched mine, lank fingers came feeling over my face, and I was sensible of a peculiar unpleasant odour.n a moment I was clutched by several hands, and there was no mistaking that they were trying to haul me back.I felt sideways for the projecting hooks, and, as I did so, my feet were grasped from behind, and I was violently tugged backward.But I had my hand on the climbing bars now, and, kicking violently, I disengaged myself from the clutches of the Morlocks and was speedily clambering up the shaft, while they stayed peering and blinking up at me: all but one little wretch who followed me for some way, and wellnigh secured my boot as a trophy.
Excerpt From 'The Time Machine" by H.G. Wells:
In the afternoon I met my little woman and she received me with cries of delight and presented me with a big garland of flowers -- evidently made for me and me alone.  Very possibly I had been feeling desolate. At any rate I did my best to display my appreciation of the gift.The creature's friendliness affected me exactly as a child's might have done. We passed each other flowers, and she kissed my hands. I did the same to hers. Then I tried talk, and found that her name was Weena, which, though I don't know what it meant, somehow seemed appropriate enough. She was exactly like a child. She wanted to be with me always. That was the beginning of a queer friendship which lasted a week, and ended -- as I will tell you!

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