Don't Forget To Knit Awesome!

Knitting our collective way out of a paper bag since 2011

Archive for the tag “Gargoyle”

That last story entry again.

I am reposting the last entry in order to get everyone, including myself, caught up/ reminded of where we’re at.

 

This room, guys.  It had dozens of shelves, some as high as 20 feet tall.  The shelves were as eclectic as the books filling them.  As I walked around, utterly enthralled,  I saw titles in a hundred languages.  The titles I could read dealt with subjects from Anthropology, to theoretical economic implications of Zoltron.  I flipped through various books in languages I couldn’t read, and they had wonderful diagrams.  Diagrams that would look amazing on the wall of an sort of building.  As I reached for my phone to get a picture of a particularly fantastic one, I relaized I had left my phone behind.  Which, in turn, reminded me that I wasn’t chilling in an awesome room.  I remembered that I was, in fact, running for my life.

I rushed back to the door, and hey, there’s no knob.  The door didn’t open from the inside.  And that’s super frightening.  This wasn’t a bedroom, it was a prison.  A really comfy and pretty one, but a prison without windows or a bathroom.  So, naturally, I trapped myself inside it.   And yet, I was drawn back to the books.  I did a kind of emotional shrug, and went back to the shelves.  I browsed for a bit, to find the most interesting English book.  When I found it, I pulled it, sat on the bed, and read.

I read deeply.  I had always done that.  My entire life, I was able to fall deeply into anything with pages.  Before I learned to read, I flip through art and architecture books.  I’d wistfully admire the brushstrokes and brick facades.  Eventually, I learned to read.  Everything.  Pamphlets, catalogs, books, magazines, and comics.  Textbooks, I didn’t do homework, but I’d read the whole damn thing.

Then suddenly, I heard the screech of tires.  And I was 17 again.  And everyone around me was covered in blood.  Why was I at prom again?

Story Story Story.

Seriously, a gargoyle from the roof of a abandoned church was beckoning me from across a crowded rave held inside said abandoned church.  And I, now, am completely sure there wasn’t any drugs in my system that caused hallucinations.   At the time though, I assumed giants could juggle with the balls I was tripping.  Covered in the rubbed off paint and with my shirt wrapped around my head lie a balaclava, I made my way across the room.  Suddenly, I was oblivious to the danger I was just in, and very well could have been still in, and slid next to this green granite fellow.

I cleared my throat and had nothing to say.  Panicked, I ran over all my date moves in my mind.  Maybe I could yawn and put my arm around him.  Wait, no, not the goal here.  Actually, what was my goal?  I really had no concept of what to do, so I just turned and looked the gargoyle in the eye.  “Hemingway,” he intoned, “now, be still and silent.  Look wasted.  They’re searching inside for you.”

Nodding,  I bent my knees and swayed.  I clap my hands a beat and a half off whatever we were listening to, and bobbed my head.  As a goon in suit walked by, I spun around with a high pitched giggle, and fell over right behind him.  Laughing hysterically, and made a glitter angel as the goon scoffed at me.  I got up, and followed the giant stone beast apparently I acknowledged as existing through a small door.  Behind which, a hallway lit with candles led to the basement.  I was now going further into this building.  I make the best choices.  Really, I do.

Today, Our Hero Reveals His Plan.

Next installment in the story is VERY YES.

Alright, I told myself, you can do this.  You’ve outrun rivals and hid from authorities before you went legit.  And there’s the time you punched that dude in the bar for that thing that time.  Sure, he punched you back and you bled all over him until someone broke it up and took you to the hospital, but this is a locked room.  And locked rooms are deceptively short when they sit. Because they don’t sit.  And you have a letter opener.  Made of plastic.  You’re screwed.

I’ve never been one to talk myself up very well.  It’s why my art is primarily anonymous.  Even the gallery shows and my for sale pieces are done without me.    So, as a result, I had actually made myself more nervous about the situation. On  the flip side,  I pumped up my adrenaline.  Which was cool, because someone soon walked into the room and I rushed them.  Quickly and surprisingly forcefully.  As I collided with what I would alter find out was a terribly attractive woman, I through up a superman elbow and was able to run into dance floor.

As I pushed through the throng of dancers, I removed my shirt and quickly rubbed against any person or thing will glowing paint or glitter. I effectively vanished into the crowd, and was able to watch a number of frightening looking large people wander around and eventually assume I got away. Which, I guess, technically I did, but I decided to stay and snoop.

Because that from the roof gargoyle now looked me in the eye from across the room and beckoned me to stay. At this point, I knew my life was a while new kind of weird

Today, I Start A Story…

This weekend my wife, son, and I went to As You Wish and painted a teapot, turtle, and gargoyle, respectively.  My gargoyle got so detailed, he had to have a back story.  Today I will start that story for you.

It was a rainy night, the kind that cliche noir detective novels start of with, but instead of a trench coat and  my thoughts narrating my actions,  I’ve got a busted cell phone.  And I’m in ripped jeans that are soaked in mud, rain, and the blood from my skinned legs.  I don’t really understand why I left the house tonight either.  I was chilling in front of the TV and browsing a delivery menu, when I got the overwhelming urge to run out of my place.  Not like go out and run errands, but a full on sprint to the door, calmly lock it, then sprint into the road for six miles.  I made it probably 200 hundred yarns, and walked the rest of it.  Not necessarily making good time, I ended up in front of a old church, the kind with the giant spires and the gargoyles usually watching down over the patrons.  Except this joint only had one gargoyle.

As I looked up, it seemed the green little thing was staring back at me.  I could swear it looked right inside of me, as if were studying me.  Then, I almost felt like I shouldn’t have come out, that I was in a trap of some sort.  However, it was obviously just a green stone little thing, so I ventured inside to get out of this storm.  Which was a weird event, in and of itself.  It had been raining for three days, with a steady depressing drizzle.   Somehow, we hadn’t been put under any flood warnings and the weather forecasters had just taken to shrugging when the weather report came on.

Anyway, when I walked into the church,  was immediately surprised.   I was expecting the standard big old church stuff, but I was greeted by green and blue LED rope lights, and a series of moving pictures on the walls.   The pictures would switch between a person or a landscape depending on how you focused your eyes or where you were standing.   In place of the altar was a giant glass walled tank, tubes protruding from all sides up and around the walls of the joint, and hundreds of ferrets with glowing dye in their coats running round, doing ferret things.  Ferreting, you might say.  Again, I got the over whelming feeling that I was trapped, and soon I’d be very jealous of those ferrets because they had a very big cage.

Alrighty guys, come back next Monday for more.

GL Blumenshine

 

P.S   I would like to toss a special shout out to my new friend Farzana!

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