If you like some of the art that I have linked to in the last week or so, here are a few more in a similar style:
http://www.davidchoe.com/
http://www.mikegiant.com/
http://obeygiant.com/
http://www.sillypinkbunnies.com/
Friday, February 29, 2008
Hi. A few links to satisfy the more artistically inclined of you.
http://www.kurthalsey.com/
http://www.samflores.com/
(I recently purchased one of the Sam Flores Billy Bronze vinyl figures, which is very good.)
PS - I'm not dead. I have been scribbling madly away in my notebook; one of the setbacks of writing everything longhand in notebooks (love my Moleskine) is that I have to type it out, and due to the appalling lack of time on my hands, I haven't been able to get it on here to show you.
WIPs Include -
http://www.kurthalsey.com/
http://www.samflores.com/
(I recently purchased one of the Sam Flores Billy Bronze vinyl figures, which is very good.)
PS - I'm not dead. I have been scribbling madly away in my notebook; one of the setbacks of writing everything longhand in notebooks (love my Moleskine) is that I have to type it out, and due to the appalling lack of time on my hands, I haven't been able to get it on here to show you.
WIPs Include -
- The Witching Hour, the opening of which is on here, and I have since come up with about 3 more stories to go with it
- A Drama monologue for a friend's sister, from the perspective of a character based on "The Dump"
- A fun fairytale which reverses the role of the wolf and Little Red Riding Hood.
Stay tuned, and have a wonderful weekend, folks! Blake.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
"Changing Enrolments", or, "Why my life doesn't suck that much"
Hi. Today, I changed enrolments from a silly course called Writing the Self (which sounds bad, and is worse) to Discursive Writing. Hopefully this will give me the skills for language control which I am seeking, and so I think it will be swish. Also, and more importantly, I will now get Bec time, which was a MAJOR factor in the choice.
This means that I now have 9 hours of classes on a Thursday. Yay (if by yay, you mean awww...). That being said though, my life is not as bad as many other peoples' at the moment. Take a gentleman called Simon who I know, for example - he spent 2 hours looking for a park at uni, missed his class, and then found out he can't change the stuff he needs to in order to be an exchange student. Bad blue, dude.
So I have changed, and am much relieved. I am currently working on the monologue for my mate's sister, as well as trying to hash up more ideas for The Witching Hour. I'll get there eventually.
I will (hopefully) be posting up some more stuff quite soon, once I have settled back into the grind of uni and so on.
Oh, I remember - I am writing this mainly to point you here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k66epna2Sss
Go there. You'll laugh. Unless you love Paris Hilton. In which case, I don't really care what you do.
Have a good one. Blake.
This means that I now have 9 hours of classes on a Thursday. Yay (if by yay, you mean awww...). That being said though, my life is not as bad as many other peoples' at the moment. Take a gentleman called Simon who I know, for example - he spent 2 hours looking for a park at uni, missed his class, and then found out he can't change the stuff he needs to in order to be an exchange student. Bad blue, dude.
So I have changed, and am much relieved. I am currently working on the monologue for my mate's sister, as well as trying to hash up more ideas for The Witching Hour. I'll get there eventually.
I will (hopefully) be posting up some more stuff quite soon, once I have settled back into the grind of uni and so on.
Oh, I remember - I am writing this mainly to point you here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k66epna2Sss
Go there. You'll laugh. Unless you love Paris Hilton. In which case, I don't really care what you do.
Have a good one. Blake.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Oh wow.
Every now and then, you come across something, and know that the world is a wonderful place.
Go here, and discover this for yourself:
INDIAN "THRILLER"
Have a great night. Blake.
Go here, and discover this for yourself:
INDIAN "THRILLER"
Have a great night. Blake.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
The Comma, "V" Drink, and Neil Gaiman Doing it Right
Firstly, one of my dear friends today made mention of my liberal use of the humble comma. Looking back on some of the pieces I have written, it became obvious that this was dominant in the shorter, snappier pieces. I think this has to do mainly with wanting to keep full sentence breaks to a minimum, in order to highlight the quick, snappy pace of them. But I digress...
I really love V drink. It has the amazing capacity to mess with ones head. For example, I can drink it, then stay awake for quite some time feeling alert, or I can promptly fall asleep. How odd.
Lastly for this evening (I don't really have much to write, although I have done a bit more work on The Witching Hour, I want to post up the next bit, instead of just one segment) Neil Gaiman is pretty much finished his book called "The Graveyard Book", which I am looking fowards to immensly. Have a look in the collection of short stories called "Dark Alchemy", the first story is one of the chapters of the book.
I lied, the last thing of note is that I heard back from the talented Lawrence Yang, of SuckAtLife, and I have the go-ahead to write a few bits and pieces inspired by his work. Which is awesome (his work, that is). If you ignored me the other day when I told you to go and see his stuff, then here is one of the sample pieces from his site (permission given to advertise for him!):
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Draft Opening of The Witching Hour
Well, I have been writing a little bit here and there, and I have a draft #1 opening to the story I posted about yesterday (the clock bell tower one), called The Witching Hour. Here it is:
***
The clock tower makes a harsh silhouette against the moon. Worn sandstone battered by long years of rain and wind stands tall and proud, jutting high into the purple sky. Ancient gears grind deep within the heart of it, there is a clicking, and a well-oiled whirring, then;
Glong! the clock strikes one...
The fog is thick, she moves hastily, eager to get to the hovel she calls home. She imagines foosteps behind her on the cold cobblestones, which are cracked and stark. Hearing a noise, she turns abruptly, but sees only the swirling and twisting of a pea-souper mist.
She turns back again, heading home, is startled by a terrifying visage, cloaked in night, a hideous face demented by rage. Slash! and again! The blade catches the moonlight, flicking blood onto the street.
They find her in the morning, face frozen in a rictus of pain, the torment of her last moments etched into her eyes. Her hair is splayed around her in a mocking halo, her blood has pooled and congealed around her; a crimson spiderweb is traced into the cobbles.
It is Whitechapel, 1888, and the Ripper has killed again.
Glong! the clock strikes two...
His magic is gone, used up and burnt away, like the last wood to stave off the winter chill. His wings are broken, and crumpled, torn in places. His once-glorious face is covered in scratches and blood and grime; panting, he falls to the ground, smearing his now tarnished and rusted armour with dark mud.
Through the night, he senses them nearing, being lured ever-onwards by his scent. They have reinforcements. He knows it is over.
Battered and bruised, the Faerie Prince draws his sword for the last time, the Sword of Morning, and, kissing its cool blade, he prepares himself for the last stand.
Suddenly, a flash of light, then a dazzling flash! banish the darkness, and a woman with the reddest hair and lips the green colour of poison appears before him, smiling and reaching out her pale, thin hand. Quivering, he reaches out, and takes it...
When the bone-hounds come scrabbling up the hill, through the thorns of the thicket, they find nothing, and the scent of the Prince is gone.
Glong! the clock strikes three...
***
So that is the draft intro for The Witching Hour, which is part of a bunch of short projects I am working on under the tentative label Kaleadoscopic Visions of a Rag-tag World. I hope you enjoy. If you have any comments, please feel free to either leave them here, or email me at blakejolly@hotmail.com.
Have a great one. Blake.
***
The clock tower makes a harsh silhouette against the moon. Worn sandstone battered by long years of rain and wind stands tall and proud, jutting high into the purple sky. Ancient gears grind deep within the heart of it, there is a clicking, and a well-oiled whirring, then;
Glong! the clock strikes one...
The fog is thick, she moves hastily, eager to get to the hovel she calls home. She imagines foosteps behind her on the cold cobblestones, which are cracked and stark. Hearing a noise, she turns abruptly, but sees only the swirling and twisting of a pea-souper mist.
She turns back again, heading home, is startled by a terrifying visage, cloaked in night, a hideous face demented by rage. Slash! and again! The blade catches the moonlight, flicking blood onto the street.
They find her in the morning, face frozen in a rictus of pain, the torment of her last moments etched into her eyes. Her hair is splayed around her in a mocking halo, her blood has pooled and congealed around her; a crimson spiderweb is traced into the cobbles.
It is Whitechapel, 1888, and the Ripper has killed again.
Glong! the clock strikes two...
His magic is gone, used up and burnt away, like the last wood to stave off the winter chill. His wings are broken, and crumpled, torn in places. His once-glorious face is covered in scratches and blood and grime; panting, he falls to the ground, smearing his now tarnished and rusted armour with dark mud.
Through the night, he senses them nearing, being lured ever-onwards by his scent. They have reinforcements. He knows it is over.
Battered and bruised, the Faerie Prince draws his sword for the last time, the Sword of Morning, and, kissing its cool blade, he prepares himself for the last stand.
Suddenly, a flash of light, then a dazzling flash! banish the darkness, and a woman with the reddest hair and lips the green colour of poison appears before him, smiling and reaching out her pale, thin hand. Quivering, he reaches out, and takes it...
When the bone-hounds come scrabbling up the hill, through the thorns of the thicket, they find nothing, and the scent of the Prince is gone.
Glong! the clock strikes three...
***
So that is the draft intro for The Witching Hour, which is part of a bunch of short projects I am working on under the tentative label Kaleadoscopic Visions of a Rag-tag World. I hope you enjoy. If you have any comments, please feel free to either leave them here, or email me at blakejolly@hotmail.com.
Have a great one. Blake.
*Sigh* What is wrong with this world???
Well, this post is sure to live up to the name of the blog. It's rant time people, and here is my list of top ten rants, in order from most annoying to not-so-annoying:
1. Hookers or random slutty "dating" agencies trying to add me as a friend on MySpace. It was funny the first time, the second time was a little odd. It's number 8 now, joke's old.
2. The random Chinese lady who has called the house the last four nights running, asking for a Mr. Jolly, and claiming to be selling nothing. Each time, we tell her we aren't interested, and not to call again. About 3 minutes after putting the phone down, it rings again, and is guess who...?
3. Roadworks.
4. Blogger signing me out randomly.
5. Women.
6. Work in the morning (ugh!).
7. Not being able to acquire the book I needed for uni.
8. Running out of things to rant about.
9. Sand in my eyes.
10. The odd power failure we get whenever the kitchen light is turned on. I know, weird, hey!
On another, entirely unrelated, and un-ranting note, I am currently working on a short collection of stories that will be based around an old church bell tolling midnight - in between each toll, a small story will occur. I think it may be kinda cool.
Have a great weekend folks. Blake.
PS! I heard back from the aforementioned Lawrence Yang, who has kindly given me permission to flaunt his work and shamelessly advertise on this site, as well as write some stuff drawn creatively from his fabulous work.
1. Hookers or random slutty "dating" agencies trying to add me as a friend on MySpace. It was funny the first time, the second time was a little odd. It's number 8 now, joke's old.
2. The random Chinese lady who has called the house the last four nights running, asking for a Mr. Jolly, and claiming to be selling nothing. Each time, we tell her we aren't interested, and not to call again. About 3 minutes after putting the phone down, it rings again, and is guess who...?
3. Roadworks.
4. Blogger signing me out randomly.
5. Women.
6. Work in the morning (ugh!).
7. Not being able to acquire the book I needed for uni.
8. Running out of things to rant about.
9. Sand in my eyes.
10. The odd power failure we get whenever the kitchen light is turned on. I know, weird, hey!
On another, entirely unrelated, and un-ranting note, I am currently working on a short collection of stories that will be based around an old church bell tolling midnight - in between each toll, a small story will occur. I think it may be kinda cool.
Have a great weekend folks. Blake.
PS! I heard back from the aforementioned Lawrence Yang, who has kindly given me permission to flaunt his work and shamelessly advertise on this site, as well as write some stuff drawn creatively from his fabulous work.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Suck At Life
I found this website today while looking for pictures of melancholy people. It is called "SuckAtLife.com", and contains the rather remarkable work of Lawrence Yang.
I thought it would be cool to post up here, as it is yet another great example of an artist working with inimitable style to create something truly unique and fun.
I have contacted the artist for permission to put a couple of pictures on here, and to write some accompanying "literary snapshots" if you will.
So there you have it. Another day at the coal face. Good evening. Blake.
I thought it would be cool to post up here, as it is yet another great example of an artist working with inimitable style to create something truly unique and fun.
I have contacted the artist for permission to put a couple of pictures on here, and to write some accompanying "literary snapshots" if you will.
So there you have it. Another day at the coal face. Good evening. Blake.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Snapshots of Disturbance
These were inspired by some of the amazing Tim Biskup's Jackson 500 collection. Have a look at his website for some amazing gear.
These are inspired by the paintings 206, 207, and 226.
_________________________________________________
The witch shrieks, her cries chill the hearts of those around, despite the overbearing heat. She is tied in an embrace with a stake, the last embrace she will know, save that of oblivion. Or hell. Her skin blackens and cracks, burning; now melting, liquifying in the flames as they rise higher around her. The moon, low and gibbous, frowns on the earth, and the clouds, angry, rain blood down from the crimson skies. Justice is being served. The work is hard, thankless. But it is God's work. And it is good.
***
The angel burns, the Trumpet sounds like a voice from the heavens condemning man for his sins. The wings are charcoal, the beauty lost, flowing away. Golden garments are in tatters. Stars fall, raining down on the earth, glowing, exposing the godless shame. This is man's work.
***
The demon stretches for the first time in aeons, its wings unfurl, it casts off the bindings that bit deep into its neck over millenia, ichor flows, and the air smells of sulfur, the perfume of hell. It tears off the last of the Tetragrammaton bindings; it is free.
Copyright, Blake Jolly, 2008.
_________________________________________________
Also really awesome is the work of Nathan Jurevicius. Check Him Out.
Have a great one. Blake.
These are inspired by the paintings 206, 207, and 226.
_________________________________________________
The witch shrieks, her cries chill the hearts of those around, despite the overbearing heat. She is tied in an embrace with a stake, the last embrace she will know, save that of oblivion. Or hell. Her skin blackens and cracks, burning; now melting, liquifying in the flames as they rise higher around her. The moon, low and gibbous, frowns on the earth, and the clouds, angry, rain blood down from the crimson skies. Justice is being served. The work is hard, thankless. But it is God's work. And it is good.
***
The angel burns, the Trumpet sounds like a voice from the heavens condemning man for his sins. The wings are charcoal, the beauty lost, flowing away. Golden garments are in tatters. Stars fall, raining down on the earth, glowing, exposing the godless shame. This is man's work.
***
The demon stretches for the first time in aeons, its wings unfurl, it casts off the bindings that bit deep into its neck over millenia, ichor flows, and the air smells of sulfur, the perfume of hell. It tears off the last of the Tetragrammaton bindings; it is free.
Copyright, Blake Jolly, 2008.
_________________________________________________
Also really awesome is the work of Nathan Jurevicius. Check Him Out.
Have a great one. Blake.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Back to Uni, the Irony of Life, and the Joy of Moleskine
Well, here I am. I haven't blogged in a bit, so I thought I had better pop in and say hello. Back to uni today (its the wee hours, so, it technically is today...), and I am sort of looking foward to/dreading it.
In other news, the world is a very ironic place, in case you had not realised this. Unfortunately, this fact was brought home to me this afternoon in such a spectacular fashion, that I feel as though Cosmic Karma has taken a stonking great poo on my head. Thats right. Stonking. If I ever meet Karma, I will kick him/her firmly in the balls/ovaries. But seriously!
Also today I purchased a Moleskine book, which is really quite nice. If you like to write and do so in style, I have to recommend one of these books - GO HERE!
Have a great day folks. Blake.
In other news, the world is a very ironic place, in case you had not realised this. Unfortunately, this fact was brought home to me this afternoon in such a spectacular fashion, that I feel as though Cosmic Karma has taken a stonking great poo on my head. Thats right. Stonking. If I ever meet Karma, I will kick him/her firmly in the balls/ovaries. But seriously!
Also today I purchased a Moleskine book, which is really quite nice. If you like to write and do so in style, I have to recommend one of these books - GO HERE!
Have a great day folks. Blake.
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