Black and White

“ No matter where you go, everyone’s connected. ”

– Lain Iwakura, Serial Experiments: Lain

Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace, photographed by QT Luong

The silent world around him was a dull, cloudy grey. Whatever colour had been present during the initial recording of it had been filtered out. It was hard to focus on any single detail, the inkwelled scene made to be poignant, but not studied too closely. Individuals were no longer blurred, to aid in his assignment, but their blood remained censored, as it was in the media. 

Hidden Below

 

In response to the Weekly Photo Challenge over on the Daily Post, here’s a piece by photographer Andrew Brooks.

It’s a part of his ‘Hidden Cities’ collection, and was taken during an exploration of Manchester.

I have a lot of his worked saved and hidden away, because it has often served to inspire and save me from more than one bought of writer’s block.

The reason I love this particular picture so much is because I found it when trying to research locations for Underground, back when it was still a short that took place almost entirely inside a series of abandoned tunnels.

Whenever I’m having trouble writing that story, taking a look at Brooks’ work often helps me get back on track.

Be sure to click-through for the full-sized image and check out the rest of his site too!

Beta Test

(Surrealism)2, photography by Laanscapes

Henry blinked as a newly created sun sparked off between the freshly formed clouds on the horizon, his eyes trying in vain to focus on the paths of transparent hexagons as they melted away. In their wake a new reality shifted, fluid like in front of him. Trees warped in an imaginary breeze, leaves drifting down from their branches only to rise again. Grass dyed itself an appropriate shade of deep emerald green, waving on either side of him as it decided how high it should grow.

Wakefulness

Expressive photography by Tamara Will, visit her FaceBook page here.

I’m not sure it would be truthful to say I ‘suffer’ from insomnia, but sleep doesn’t come easily to me, and rarely happens when it should. A few people in my life know about how odd my sleeping habits are, but I’ve never really spoken much about why.

On the Subject of: Introducing The Characters In My Head

A Detective’s Office, image found through visualize.us, here.

I’ve written before about Ben my inner critic and what a wanker he is. I’ve mentioned writer’s block as a beast like creature and my inner editor as an old school teacher. Well, these characters I’ve created over the years have helped me make light of some very real fears when it comes to my work.

The Shadow Biosphere

Sixty Seconds by ph0enix

Now in the dusty places where the sun rarely strays and the people hasten to walk by is where you’ll find them, my little hunter. They’ll spin and circle, lazy and unvexed by your presence at first. But don’t mistake this disinterest for invitation, for they will swallow you whole and all memory of you as well.  

Interlude

Conceptual photograph by Cichutko, viewable here on deviantART

Fluorescent lights inside the bus don’t flicker as they should, fixed in the moment they last existed. He sighs ever so slightly and stuffs his hands into his pockets. The traffic outside should be moving, drivers pressing on their horns and leaning out to shout, but there is no noise here anymore. A small flicker towards the back of the bus and then…

Creation

Surreal Digital Art from Rolan Gonzalez, see more of his work here!

Now sit here my love and watch, just watch. Watch as I stand apart but steady, arms wide open in invitation as our new world forms before us.

Feel the breeze across the skin of your cheek and know that I am conjuring a place so sublime you’ll shed tears for me once more. Listen to the sounds of a Universe all our own gasping into existence. Smell the new grass beneath and the fresh leaves above and know that never again will we be denied. Taste the clear waters that clash around us, that flow and bend and rain.

This place, this bright open space where no single man is yet King, is mine to mold and yours to protect. For we are done with smite and folly, done with jealousy and malice. We rise higher than the winds, climbing atop the highest spindling branches to begin again. And begin I have, my love.

So watch, just watch.