The Dream Cycle, 2009.11

It's been a slow year for remembering my dreams, well at least here's another to add to the blog.

Frozen in Time

A cold, shadowy landscape with the moon shining down. There were patches of snow and ice, everything was still and frozen over. I was running through a field trying to escape the inevitable doom that was following me. Each footstep crunched with shattering of frozen grass. A curved wall of ice and frost crystals was racing across the landscape behind me. It kept cracking, breaking, and reforming in a melody that sounded like breaking icicles and crystal chimes.

I tripped and fell, the wall of ice soon overtook me. It covered me, almost like a cocoon, the crystals grew around me locking me in to where I fell. I suddenly could see my own face, see the ice crystals growing and piercing through my skin. I saw my glassy green eyes fade to milky white as they froze over. My breath came out in a cloud of mist froze and fell. I became one with the ice.

The Conversation

Time for Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop again! The prompt is:

A series of conversations between this couple:


Conversation #1: (in the spirit of Halloween)
"I swear Helen, there was a zombie right here!"
"I'm sure there was, Harold."

Conversation #2:
"Good God, woman! If you don't stop griping I'm going to feed my hands to these little 'V's on the ground here!"

Conversation #3:
"Harold, it doesn't matter how much you stretch, your arms will never be as long as a gorilla's."

Conversation #4:
"Hut... hut... hi..."
"I'm not playing football with you, Harold."

Conversation #5:
"Casting a hex on the ground is not going to make the little 'V's go away, Harold."

I don't know why, but they look like a Helen and Harold to me.

Writer's Workshop: Ragnarok 2

Ok, I'm continuing the 'first day' prompt of Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop since she offered it again :). The first part can be found here, it's about a mortal witnessing the first day of Ragnarok (The Norse 'end of the world' scenario).

The First Day of Ragnarok, Part 2.

The snow falls in blinding torrents, a blizzard of epic proportions. This must be the infamous Fimbulvetr, the final winter, said to last three winters long. Does that mean three seasons or three years? It doesn't really matter. Those damned teeth are drawing nearer.

Far to the South the sky is aglow in amber oranges and crimson reds. Something massive advances there. From the North the cold wind shrieks, banshees in maelstroms, I'll freeze if I don't find shelter. Houses, trees, ground, buildings, streets, they all explode in violent fury towards the West. The teeth tearing through them, devouring everything, I have to run, must get away.

My rout is to no avail, the earth buckles and heaves under my feet as the ground tears from its foundation. Flung high into the air, I smash into objects, fleash tearing and bones snapping. Bludgeoned and bleeding I fall into the maw of the Great Wolf, it's burning eyes scarring the skies. Darkness surrounds me for a minute, than everything grows crystal clear. I float above the wolf, transparent.

Soul ripped from the body, still I'll stay and watch this terrible spectacle. I am no Einherjar and no Valkyrie will come to collect me. I'll not travel to Valhalla and the road to Hel is congested with throngs of frantic souls. I'll remain an earth-bound spirit for now, observing and remembering.

The wolf howls in furious rage, a challenge has been issued. An armored man on an eight-legged steed stands for the wolf. Spear in hand, he smiles grimly and charges. A fierce battle cry echoes throughout the worlds, the All-Father has come to join the fray. The battle rages but Old One Eye falls, swallowed whole by the wolf. Yet, revenge will have its day, the son avenges the father. Vidarr steps on the lower jaw of the wolf while grasping and tearing the upper jaw up to the heavens. Here is where the wolf dies, but its brother rises.

The oceans heave and roll, coastal towns and cities inundated, the great World Serpent has begun its ascent from the depths. Sinewy and twisting, the serpent Jorgmundr slithers onto land. It thrashes and lunges attacking all in its path, spewing poison as it kills. Another challenge sounds, cracks of thunder and arcs of lightning rip through the sky. A warrior with a great hammer stands upon a cloud. The two circle and strike. Fangs pierce flesh and hammer smites scales. Soon they both lie upon broken earth, lifeless.

The entirety of the Earth shudders as terrible battles commence everywhere. Gods, Man and animals perish, the sky groans and winds stand still. In a final gasp, all land masses sink below the sea, all save the forested land called Hoddmimir. In that thick glade is where the cycle begins anew.

After time, a new sun burns through the clouded skies and the myriad pinpoints of stars show again. Sol birthed a daughter and now she continues the lighted path. New landmasses rise from quiet seas and life begins to take root again. From the depths of Hoddmimir's Holt, step Lif and Lifthrasir into the new sunlight, healthy from feeding on the morning dew. These two in peace, the cycle of humanity continues.

Writer's Workshop: Ragnarok

Ok, I'm tagging the 'first day' prompt of Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop today. I'm going a little fictitous with this story. I've been reading alot of Norse Mythology lately and decided to write about a mortal witnessing the first day of Ragnarok (The Norse 'end of the world' scenario).

The First Day of Ragnarok.

Woken from my sleep by a eerie ghostly howl of a hound. I don't hear it so much as I feel it, it reverberates through every inch of my flesh making my bones ache in terrible foreboding. The house shakes with this baying, cabinets open on their own with plates shattering on the floor. Out the window, the trees look to cringe in their place, leaves shaking from their branches in fear. Almost like a quake, the earth shudders to the crescendo of the howl and then silence. Stillness reigns over all, nothing moves, no bird sings, no wind blows; uneasy expectation dominates all.

Suddenly, the tearing sound of leather, chain, and steel. The sounds of a thousand fetters rending apart. A triumphant roar rattles all of existence. A booming declaration of infernal intention, my blood feels like it's freezing in its veins. The windows shatter with a rush of wind, the walls creak from some unseen strain, a gale has descended upon us. Out into the day I push but the light seems to falter.

I don't understand this. It's the middle of August yet only twenty degrees outside. The sky roars like a lion, its breath a bone-chilling wind. And the Sun! Our glorious Life-Bringer fights for its own life! Shadows of fangs cut into the solar disc, the light is slowly dimming. Yet at the same time, the moon cracks apart! Chunks of Luna disappearing from the Heavens as if they're being devoured by a monstrous celestial maw. The luminous twins fall to their unseen assailants. Darkness engulfs everything.

Still I can see, random fires illuminate this informal night. On the horizon, something... horrifying. Great teeth, like a canine or lupine, thousands of feet high. A mouth that reaches from earth to sky, slavering over morsels of life, devouring everything in its path. Above the mouth and barely seen, those eyes, those burning eyes. Pinpoints of hateful fire, straining with madness and hunger.

There's no point in running, there's no place to run to. It's begun to snow?

Writer's Workshop: The Break

Ok, I'm tagging the 'break' prompt of Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop today. Mama Kat wrote about her collar bone fracture, I figured I would share mine. There's a bit of a fun story in it. :)

How did you break it?

Back in my younger days, I was really into the punk/thrash/metal scene. I loved hitting shows, jumping into the pit, and letting the steam out, so to speak. I was around 18 (half a lifetime ago!) at the time and went with a bunch of friends to a local concert. There weren't many people there, so it was a relatively open floor. The band was jamming out, and we were doing the usual - moshing. At some point I caught air and landed square on my upper back... that's when the fun began.

When I hit the ground, I hit hard. I heard this sickening wet crunch and the worst feeling (not pain) ran through my body. It was something akin to nausea and dread - I'll call it drasuea for now. I remember I got all clammy from it too, almost like I was in shock from that horrible sound. Oddly enough I wasn't hurting at all, well until my buddy Dave came up, put his hands under my shoulder and proceeded to lift me up. The ***PAIN***. The wrenching of the bones in my shoulder told me that I broke something. So I got a lift to the hospital.

Of course, hospitals are always fun. Do you note the sarcasm? Sitting in a waiting room for three hours. Kudos to my friends though, they hung out with me the whole time. Finally, I got x-rayed and got to see the break. My left clavicle broken clean in two... neat and nasty at the same time. The docs splinted and slung me, gave me a prescription for percoset (whooohooo!) and sent me on my way.

Over the next few weeks I healed pretty slowly. That damn splint was the biggest pain in the ass. It wrapped around both my shoulders, under the armpits and met in the center of my back in an 'X' - that's where it hooked. It was very difficult to work with one armed; I usually needed help to remove and put on the splint. Come to think of it, I'm not even sure if it was a splint, but that's what I'm calling it. Ok, so maybe it wasn't completely the splints problem that I healed slowly... I kept trying to play my guitar with a broken shoulder. Hey! I'm a man of music, dammit!

The percoset were very very fun. They only lasted about 2 weeks... and I don't remember those two weeks, but I know nothing hurt. Actually there was only one time where the pain floored me after the inital break - I got hit by a vertigo spell (I've suffered from vertigo for as long as I can remember) and fell shoulder first into a wall. I let out a scream something akin to a banshee's wail.

The only really good thing to come out of breaking my collar bone was the attention. A bunch of the girls I was friends with back then felt so bad that I had broken a bone. They would bring me cookies, help with the splint, make dinner, etc. for a good bit of time. Yeah, I milked it for all it was worth. :D

Heh, the collar bone never healed right. I have a triangular bump sticking a little bit out of my shoulder now. The halves of the bone actually healed one on top of the other. Makes my left arm weak unfortunately - can't put pressure on it. Go figure.

The Dream Cycle, 2009.10

I feel like this year was slow in my dream cycle - not remembering much of what I dreamt. Oddly enough, these last three nights I've dreamt and rememered bits and pieces. So today comes a small conglomerate of dreams.

Grandmother

I was meeting with my family for some kind of gathering. At some point in my travels to reach them, I found my grandmum. (My grandmum - my sisters and I call her Nanny - passed away in '91 - the day I graduated high school :/ ) She was wandering around, not lost per se but more like exploring wherever she felt like going. I convinced her to come see the family with me and we went to the party.

I remember arriving at the place and walking in saying "Look who I found!" and pointing at the doorway. She comes walking in and everyone goes crazy greeting her and seeing how she is. The only other part I remember is that she was listening to everyone in turn, getting updates on everyone's lives.


Yellow Spiders

Yes, another spider dream. I'm not sure where I was but I remember seeing a two foot round yellow and black spider holding another dead yellow-black spider in its mandibles. The spider kept circling me, looking like it wanted to attack me but would not release the other spider. I don't know if it killed the other spider or I did... maybe that spider was its companion? Maybe an enemy?


That's all I remember, I know there was a third dream but it's too fuzzy to write about. I'm not sure why I remembered these two... I need to find a way to remember my dreams more often.

Writer's Workshop: Giddiness

Ok, I'm tagging the 'giddiness' prompt of Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop today. It got my brain juices flowing. :)

What are you giddy about?

I'm giddy about the new show "Warehouse 13" on the Sci-Fi channel. It's about two top FBI agents who get drafted into a secret program that has them scouring the country for artifacts that mess with peoples lives. So far there has been mind-control through eclectic music, subconscious release of desires via a psycho-analysts mojo-infused chair, bleeding stone idols that make person murderers, and a renaissance comb created by alchemy that contains the 'spirit' of a hateful woman in the mix. The actors and actresses have a great sense of chemistry and humor that makes for a fun presentation to the story. The warehouse itself is remniscent of the warehouse at the end of the Indiana Jones Raiders movie. It's full of artifacts that are still very active.

I'm NOT giddy that the Sci-Fi channel changed their name/logo to Syfy. Lame.

I'm giddy that my skill in brush-painting is improving. I'm incorporating scenes into my knowledge beside stand-alone studies. I'm also getting a better feel for using color in my paintings (I prefer using ink and wash (black, grey, and white) but I don't want to limit myself). And I'm sloooooooowly getting better with blending colors and shades of gray in the wet-on-wet technique. Maybe I should take a straight watercolor class (Western/modern-style) to get a bit more tutelage on that aspect of the art?

I'm giddy from the coffee I'm drinking. It's Irish Cream flavored. Tasty.

I'm giddy that every day passing is a day closer to no more college. So. Sick. Of. School.