Saturday 2 September 2006

The Scream, Dreaming

The recovery of Munch's 'The Scream' by Norwegian police has inspired another short story.

In it I imagine the figure in the painting finds relief at no longer having to scream once he has been removed from the gallery wall he has howled out of for decades. Under wraps in the art thieves' lair, he can relax a little, and take time out to take a look at the surrounding scenery in the painting.

The piece is about finding yourself by losing yourself. Only by not screaming can this screamer find his true calling - to scream on behalf of the world!

Monday 12 June 2006

The Sky Is Falling

Two plane crashes in two days, and it feels like the sky is falling. What is it about plane crashes that fills us with dread? Symbolic angels off death, like mediaeval woodcuts, hovering over a city, they represent I suppose Man's triumph against Nature. And when they fall, we fall; our hopes fall. They point to the fragility of our technological supremacy over Gaia.

Sunday 7 May 2006

Dying Swan

So, avian flu has reached Britain. How symbolic that the first victime is that most romantic of birds - the swan. As I heard the report on the radio I imagined in my mind's eye a young female ballet dancer, lying prostate on the stony beach of the Scottish loch. Turning to my synthesizer I recorded a ten minute improvisation with a harp-like sound. I may use the 'off-air' recordings again over this piece, which I am beginning to feel is turning into some sort of concept album about current affairs. Oh well, all artists are inspired by their environment and their times and I am no different. I have also begun to play around with Paintshop a little more and am thinking of creating at least one new image for each blog entry. This first was montaged from images found with google's image search - a triumph of technology helping find the raw materials for the creative artist!

Wednesday 18 January 2006

Katrina (extract)


The rotating green light from the radar screen intermittently lit Colin's pinched face as he sipped at his cappaccino. It was a slow night for weather watching, the glowing cloud formations comprised of pixels generated from streamed satellite data were laid out in meterologically uninteresting patterns and Colin took another sip of the hot coffee hoping it would wake his senses up. The problem was that the forecast was 'dull', just 'dull'. The same word Angie had used when she slammed the door for the final time. How had he become like this, Colin asked himself? When would the weather turn?

"How's it goin', Colin?"
"Ugh?" said Colin, spinning round at the question. His manager had a habit of suddenly appearing behind him with no sound, no reflection in the round glass of the radar screen.
"Oh, er, fine, thanks Bob." said Colin.
"Good." Bob frowned at the screen and jabbed a finger at a position out over the Atlantic Ocean. "That updated in the last three hours?" he asked.
Colin checked a printout. "Er, no. Should be due any minute."
"Well, keep an eye on it." said Bob as he wandered off, a troubled expression on his face.
"Okay." said Colin.

He stared back at the clouds and the clouds stared back at him. The point Bob had indicated was a little different than the usual mid-Atlantic flurries. If you looked closely you could just make out a small circle, surrounded by tiny finely drawn crescent shaped half moons. It reminded Colin of his wife's eye, the filligree patterns in her green irises that reflected his own distorted image when they made love. Had she thought he was dull even in these moments?

A beep from the computer told him new data was updating the image. Perhaps now he would be able to call Bob back and put his mind at rest. There would be no extreme weather forming there, Colin knew. He' been doing this for too many years. He waited as the image updated, the pixels changing colour and shape. The effect on Angie's eye was as if it blinked and then opened again, this time larger.

Colin put down his coffee and his own eyes grew larger. He snatched for the telephone and punched in a number, never taking his eyes off the screen.
"Hello, Bob?" said Colin.
"I think we may have a hurricane..."

Thursday 12 January 2006

More New Wor(l)ds

It's a new year and I am presenting some new wor(l)ds in the form of my annual fiction-fest compilation. It's a mere six months since the last issue but I've been busy over the second half of the year and have produced 5 short stories and 6 poems. Several of these poems have been presented to audiences at my local literary club, whilst at least two of the stories were submitted to writing competitions (although they failed to be chosen).

The collection includes 'Katrina' - a short story written from the perspective of a meteorological officer who watches the hurricane drama unfold on his radar screen whilst simultaneously considering his wife's recent affair. In an interactive crossover I have produced a piece of music and sound effects which could be listened to whilst reading the story. I have some software which I hope to use to be able to produce perhaps a clip for youtube or myspace, linking to the story text. This is the first time I have experimented with this sort of technique, and I hope to use it at some of my poetry readings.