During creation, an artist must not worry what the audience will think; it is that mentality which differentiates art from entertainment. Although, each can certainly fuel the other, and are by no means mutually exclusive, art emerges from an overwhelming desire to share something so profoundly personal that the recognition of the work, the reflection in a stranger’s eyes, forges a deep, intimate, and irrefutable connection, and through that conduit, we are no longer alone. An artist chases that connection at the cost of all else. It is the only drug of consequence.
I can’t be all of me anywhere I go
So parts of me that need to show
To overpower the me’s in view
But I’ve maybe found another way
A way not to burn the bridges but instead
Escape their existence
But I can’t break free of you
You’re the only thing
When I’m looking back
In time, in the mirror
You’re the only thing
I regret leaving behind
And I scream, hand to the glass
And I scream, but there is no relief
And I fall, I’m all out of sound
But the other me’s are here
Staring down the future projection
Claiming no other way out
But maybe they’re wrong
Maybe they’re scared
Maybe they don’t know
Something has to give
Even if they’re wrong
Or I’ll be gone from me.
How are you? It’s been way too long. I wish I had more to report, or something specific to say, but I really just wanted to say hello and I’ve done that, so now I’m just rambling, aimlessly wandering from one word to the next with no sense of where I’m going — so, you know, me being me.
The cul de sac of my mind; I find myself there no matter what life I choose, no matter where I live, no matter my income or other pragmatic features of existence. I find myself trapped in my own mind, only, more diabolical than hooves and horns, I’m alone. It’s not worse or better, it’s just that the devil, an adversary of any kind, gives you purpose, and being without one is safer, but also presents it’s own kinds of challenges, like avoiding creating monsters… wow. Off topic again.
None of this is sad or depressing 😛 . I found myself trapped in this place again and again, and I stopped trying to get out. I started to simply observe it with childlike fascination. I played in the oddly orange soil, enjoyed the earthy and rusty smells it gave off. I found a garden, untended and in dire need of attention, but clearly a place for things to grow. I looked deeper and found tiny gardeners, insects keeping up as best they could in a relatively barren expanse. I mean, the sky, the horizon? Goes on FOR ever, formless clouds of color limned against an eternity of dusty orange hued blue. All of that, yet, there are mountains, a garden, and an army of attendants. Empty but not. Empty, but full of waiting, brimming with expectation that the gardener will return. I look around at it, and begrudging realize I sorta like it. The limitless trap, this nebulous cul de sac, this dead-end that defeats escape with size alone? Maybe it’s not a prison? A boundless space; the perfect prison, or the universe itself? Does it even make a difference?
And I realized that I keep returning to it, because I’ve never actually left. My comings and goings have been illusions, delusions to help me cope with the trap — but the trap is me. This is my world. I am the gardener. I made myself the monster, and I’ve been running away ever since.
Sounds like a self-help thing! LOL. Maybe some of it is, I don’t know. Why share this? Well, it sounds strange to write it, out loud so to speak, but I think the delusional part, those illusory views of Michigan, California, friendships, finance, job security, contributing to society — you know, the quotidian dogma wielded as a rational measure of accomplishment and ultimately existence? Those delusions released from duty, recognized and eliminated without even the satisfaction of magic green smoke and witchy fingers? Yeah, when those schemas evaporate, I think I’ll be me, really me, and I’d like to try being me for a little while 😛 . Likely, I’m quite mad. Not in a harmful way, but you know, non compos mentis and all that — I may be difficult to reach in a meaningful way. I’m really not sure. Probably nothing changes except the glint in my eyes, but over time, I think it’s going to make a huge difference.
I really wish that asshole hadn’t published, Men from wherever, Women from somewhere else, for innumerable reasons that I can’t possible begin to discuss here. I hate the entire concept. It’s Earth, fucker, and we’re all human beings living here together, and it’s not always easy, especially because of the inherent contrasts among individuals, and no one needs you drumming up false gender associations, gumming up the already messy works! Screw that guy for capitalizing on people’s fears and confusion. Mostly, I hate the book because I’d refer to my place, this head space, as Mars, if he hadn’t ruined the name. #marsismine
I’ve had to create complex locks and seals to keep my consciousness in this reality with everyone else. I’ve had to hide the combinations and keys from my self to prevent me from leaving at every opportunity–the secrets of opening obfuscated by madness and misdirection. But they work. They keep us all here. The author asks me to let him through, and I say no. The shadow beast threatens me, but he knows I don’t know the way through either. I am the master of locks and barriers. I create puzzles. I do not solve them. The author returns with the keymaker, “This reality has asked for more from another. The request must be fulfilled. I’m going in.” And I step aside. It’s always like this. What the author doesn’t know is that it is my locks that make the other side so desirable and the key is always a test of an author’s willingness to lose herself. The tumblers fall into place and I miss her. I don’t know if she’ll ever return, but when she does, I’ll have better locks. -Gnomish Keeper of Sanity
Kirkus reviewed Sunborn Rising and the results are in! Not only did the novel review well, but it’s featured in Kirkus’ latest magazine (Jan issue) and on their recommended list!
Presale is live!
Hardcover coming soon!
I have to stop yelling now!
Quoting a great friend of mine,
…the immediate destruction and loss of life is horrific, but I think the real attack is worse because of how widespread and insidious the effects are…and that’s the fear it generates which leads to hate and willingness to sacrifice freedom.
Check out the beautiful new Sunborn Rising website! So proud of the entire Neoglyphic team!
And the words come at a flow, a pace that helps me remember why I write. Open cool transference of thoughts to characters, and situations unknown, discovered through the exploration of the mind. And maybe I am trapped, and maybe we are all trapped, but there is a way to freedom. There must be a way to the free spaces, the places in between that define the world we know. Exist in the places between, the space outside the known, and lose yourself in it only to discover that you need to return to the definition in order to know that you’re mad—and the artist says no, there is no madness, there is no sanity, there is only the zombie automaton and freedom, and both are crazy, and both are deadly, and so the artist continues, lost in the meandering dark of the other side of the glass, seeing you as her reflection, wondering what’s wrong with herself, and she turns the mirror around and staring at its back, doesn’t see the difference, and laughs, and feels better, and the artist continues, because the artist isn’t just visiting the other side, the artist lives here, and the artist knows a secret that he cannot share, and the artists that have returned with secrets are charlatans, because an artist can never go back as anything other than an entertainer, and the artist knows the void obscures, knows that no one may ever find him here, but the artist is here anyway, because—and this is what the artist says—“I am not defined by your experience of me,” and so the artist disappears. -Gnomish Explorer
Actively working on the second book in the Sunborn Rising series. Vertical Slice of Cerulean concept by artist Matt Gaser to the left .
The first volume, Beneath the Fall, is receiving a lot of praise from the Sneak Peek group! Really exciting to hear from everyone! I can’t say thank you enough for sharing your experience with the story.
Dabbling with a few other short stories that have been waiting in the wings for too long. Not sure if they’ll go live or not. And I have another portrait in my series that I’d like to release soon too.
I also finally updated the cover art for Evening Breezes here on my website.
As always, if you want to be in on the Sneak Peek you can write to me, firstname.lastname@example.org . I can’t guarantee all requests, but I’ll do my best, and I’m on my email everyday.
Finally, able to formally announce what I’ve been working on for more than a year!
Co-Founded a Company, Neoglyphic Entertainment!
Finished writing my fourth novel, Sunborn Rising: Beneath the Fall!
I’m super excited to working with a great crew of creatives, developing a new franchise and a platform to launch that franchise into a full spectrum of media!
Wish me luck!
(Oh, and tangentially, I’m working on some new short stories… but keep that on the down low. I’m supposed to be editing.)