'Writers are liars by nature, but just because of that, don't discount us. For it is through our lies that we tell the truth. Our stories become the mask.'

Monday 10 September 2012

White Lake, Blue Clouds...




  I used to dream of lakes...huge lakes. Really in the end they were just an adaption of the similar ones I'd visit in my drawing adventure times. I also designed another sort of water mass along the same lines for my Island Books:

    Water that is endlessly dark and deep, and that barely moves but is arcticly cold. There are things in the deep...Megalodon and harpies, giant octopus and other creatures and entities as large as houses and as black as a moonless night...

    I only ever had one nice dream about a lake...they've always been very alien to me. You can't swim out into a lake without being aware...anything can be in them. (oooh spoookyy)

      I hope you don't mind, but there was this curious dream I had once, and it was another one of those EPIC, real-feeling dreams:

      I was walking along a stretching beach as part of a thirty K walking challenge. I had begun walking alone a fair while ago and of a sudden, I find that I've come across a structure built just off the sand, where grass grew and stretched in hills. I believe it looked like a castle or something similar, but made of bricks. I was drawn to the door in its' side and going inside I found myself in a medieval-like dungeon-y passageway.
      I began exploring the place, but at the same time, the more I walked and the further I went the more I began to feel that something alive had lured me in there, and that I was being followed and had to get out. I think I began to run, but I couldn't find the way out...until eventually I came to a door that led out onto a small balcony.
      It really tripped me out though because the view from the balcony was of the ocean, when I had been sure that the sea was on the opposite side of the building to my position. I continued searching and finally came to a walkway that eventually led outside.
      Only problem was that even though it was out in the air, it was merely an enclosed yard encircled by a wall of giant trees that pressed skin-tight to each other. There was no way out, but I did find a little cafe that looked like something off Hansel and Gretel, in which an old lady ran out with a beautiful dessert for me to eat. It was delicious, but I was in a strange state of mind, being stuck in there.

      Things that you love and chase often have a way of trapping you in their walls and making you feel lost. It was ages ago: that dream.



   I've been thinking lately that I might change the title of the series itself. It's been The Golden Dragon Series for as long as I can recall, and I feel the need for a change coming on. Perhaps though, I might add a Sub-name for it, that has a semi-hidden meaning behind it. I'll give you one guess as to what it may be about: Look at the Photo ABOVE.... :] humhumhum...


      Ah, and as part of my 109 day challenge (or really, I made these before I decided that I wanted to do the challenge), but I think it can be included in the same genre. You may recall that I said I had made wings in preparation for that Stress Down Day thing, well...:] I finally got around to taking photos of my odd creations...so here goes:





    They're not the most brilliant things in the world...but they are wings of a sort, and that's what I like about them. I was even able to attach bands to the back (which aren't shown in the photos), so that I can wear them. XD

    I've always loved the idea of creating pointless but lovely things...or that seem lovely to me somewhere inside. The two I always wanted to design (and now have), were a pair of wings, and my own dragons. I'll take a photo of my dragons sometime, but they are similar in design to those Japanese types, only they have wings instead of the remarkable ability to fly unaided through the sky. :]

   You know...I read this peculiar book once (just a small one), about all these different, quirky and special characters that folded together into one story. The author also wrote it by blurring the lines between reality and Fiction...kinda like The Long Road of the Junkmailer. But in one part, this boy lifesaver lives most of his time on this beach and a peculiar girl finds him after she tries to drown herself...only this boy, he hardly ever speaks and one day she discovers that he has paper wings pasted onto his back with hot glue (ages ago), and he tells her finally that it is so that he can always be apart, and remember that an angel can never be touched by love or earth or hurt...so in effect keeping himself from others by using the symbol of those wings.

    Pretty sad but...there were some lovely parts to that tale and for the life of me I can't recall it's title. Heehee...I'll try and find out. :]


 
  Last night my thoughts blurred...and my dreams mixed in their pots. I fancied I could hear a ferocious hissing somewhere in the dark of the night, but a while later I realised that it had merely been a sound that had escaped from my dreams. Of a blue blue viper that bit me because I didn't have the strength to escape it...and then bit my father because he had been seeking to help me.
 
    So I will continue to try and feel the edges of myself and perhaps find my shadow - and you know the funniest thing was that yesterday I heard the startling expression that shadows always lie to you.
 
As in, shadows are shape shifters and never show their true form. They lie and deceive us...kinda creepy and intriguing I thought.
 
 
 
   I will write to you all later,
 
   Miss CLScarlett xx



 
   


  
  

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