AI Art - Nilou
3 months ago
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Where's the new post?
Hey all sorry havent had time to post anything in a while. I was out of town, and came back to start a new job which includes a long commute. I'm hoping to be able to post soon though. Gonna work on Night, including the hopefully shocking ending. well Hope to post for you all soon. later on friends.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Sleep: Night Three
By: M.G.J.
Up again, I think I’m beginning to grow accustomed to staying up at night after a hard days work. You’d think my body wouldn’t be able to take it, yet here I lay every night for weeks, and like every night before, I try to fall asleep with little success. Eyes wide open, mind aware of every last sound that reaches my ears, I can hear every last noise that surrounds me, even each individual hair that covers my body as it rustles on the sheets, the skin on my head as I toss and turn in bed not only makes a sound but also generates so much heat my head feels like it has been stuck inside an oven, or set ablaze on a streak as to warn the world they are entering the gates of hell. Here I lay thinking about everything and nothing; about fights, over due bills, pay cuts, whether I’ll even have a job next week. The lay offs are climbing pretty high up the seniority latter getting so close to me, I can hear them hiding in the brush, like a silent killer out on a night of hunting, and I’m the prey.
I remember simpler times, when I was younger, when all I had to worry about was whether you’d look my way. I remember staying up late at night thinking about you. Restless nights lost in thoughts. Did I always suffer through this insomnia? Had I ever fallen asleep? What is sleep? I remember grabbing hold of anything I could reach for, anything that could hold my thoughts, an old pen, broken pencil, and the paper I used to write notes in class, anything. I remember this helping me then. Could it help me now? And so, I reached for a pencil and the old napkin I used to wipe away the remains of tonight’s dinner, old sardines in a can, must have been in the covered for over 3 years. I begin to write everything I hear everything I think. I label it “Peering into the mirror.” Someday I won’t see you when I look into the mirror; I’ll be a better man than you. My eyes begin to grow heavy, this just might work.
“Ahhhhhhhhh,” It’s that scream yet again for a third night. Who can it be? I can tell it’s the same scream so high pitched it could break glass, so young, so frail. Besides, the clock reads 3:33. It’s always 3:33. Dare I step outside into the pitch black? I open the wooden door, stand behind the metal door and contemplate whether or not to step outside. The copter over head blows a gust of wind into the room, sending that awful smell up my nose, so reeking, so spoiled, so rotten. The copter’s light shines directly in my eye like the light that leads to heaven, as I hear it once again, “Ahhhhh! Abraham. Help me!” What she knows my name? Mmmmm cherry lip balm…
Up again, I think I’m beginning to grow accustomed to staying up at night after a hard days work. You’d think my body wouldn’t be able to take it, yet here I lay every night for weeks, and like every night before, I try to fall asleep with little success. Eyes wide open, mind aware of every last sound that reaches my ears, I can hear every last noise that surrounds me, even each individual hair that covers my body as it rustles on the sheets, the skin on my head as I toss and turn in bed not only makes a sound but also generates so much heat my head feels like it has been stuck inside an oven, or set ablaze on a streak as to warn the world they are entering the gates of hell. Here I lay thinking about everything and nothing; about fights, over due bills, pay cuts, whether I’ll even have a job next week. The lay offs are climbing pretty high up the seniority latter getting so close to me, I can hear them hiding in the brush, like a silent killer out on a night of hunting, and I’m the prey.
I remember simpler times, when I was younger, when all I had to worry about was whether you’d look my way. I remember staying up late at night thinking about you. Restless nights lost in thoughts. Did I always suffer through this insomnia? Had I ever fallen asleep? What is sleep? I remember grabbing hold of anything I could reach for, anything that could hold my thoughts, an old pen, broken pencil, and the paper I used to write notes in class, anything. I remember this helping me then. Could it help me now? And so, I reached for a pencil and the old napkin I used to wipe away the remains of tonight’s dinner, old sardines in a can, must have been in the covered for over 3 years. I begin to write everything I hear everything I think. I label it “Peering into the mirror.” Someday I won’t see you when I look into the mirror; I’ll be a better man than you. My eyes begin to grow heavy, this just might work.
“Ahhhhhhhhh,” It’s that scream yet again for a third night. Who can it be? I can tell it’s the same scream so high pitched it could break glass, so young, so frail. Besides, the clock reads 3:33. It’s always 3:33. Dare I step outside into the pitch black? I open the wooden door, stand behind the metal door and contemplate whether or not to step outside. The copter over head blows a gust of wind into the room, sending that awful smell up my nose, so reeking, so spoiled, so rotten. The copter’s light shines directly in my eye like the light that leads to heaven, as I hear it once again, “Ahhhhh! Abraham. Help me!” What she knows my name? Mmmmm cherry lip balm…
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Sorry No Sleep: Night Three Yet
Hey all, sorry I haven't had time to post Night Three. Haven't had time to type it. My class is working on a production of Maurice Bernard Sendak's Where the Wild Things Are. I have been designing their props, and set, as well as adapting my own play version of this wonderful child story. They have one week to learn their lines, but as the story has very few lines that shouldn't be a problem, but they are kindergarten. Wish them luck for me. Hope to post soon.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Sleep: Discussion
Okay so I'm interested in what everyone thinks about sleep. I want to know what you think is going on. What you suspect the story is about, everything. I really would like to hear some feedback. Its a story that is meant to shock you, or get you thinking inside your head, maybe warp it a bit. Metallman this includes you. I'm keeping you in the dark about the plot too, so what do you think this story is about? Is this guy even real, lol? Just kiding of course he's real or is he right? Nah just messing. Any one out there suffering from a similar experience? Having trouble sleeping, the noises keeping you up? Hit me up and let me know. Lets start a discussion, or is it too soon? Well hope to here from you all.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Filming Coming Soon
Hey there. We're currently in the talks of purchasing a movie editing program so that we can start production on some of our short films. We've looked around to see if there is anything that we like but no dice. However, we did give a low ball offer to an Ebay seller in hopes of scoring an editor on the cheap. Haven't heard back as of yet. The editor will most likely be a basic editor and once we have secured more funds for the company, we will better our equipment and programs. If you have a few bucks to spare (or cents), please feel free to donate using our donate button. Any little bit helps and all will go towards programs or equipment to make our dreams reality. Anyone that donates over a buck will have a link in our blog roll for life. Thanks for all your support! Later.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Poem: Winter Wonder
The dark clouds and sullen sky
A somber time has come
The symphony that is to be
Cannot be be matched by one
The scattered rains drip away
Feeding our Earth life
With low winds it helps begin
To deal with all our strife
A man stands as best he can
Asking himself, "Why?"
A desolate pain a lingered stay
A broken man can die
At god's fury he yells a flurry
Of words and excuses
And with loud thunder came asunder
Thoughts that confuses
And heavy lighting always blinding
Calls out to this pain
A voice of reason never treason
Eases his mental strain
A man lies for his demise
As he gazes at the sky
A fallen angel simply unable
As gods continue to cry.
-Metallman
A somber time has come
The symphony that is to be
Cannot be be matched by one
The scattered rains drip away
Feeding our Earth life
With low winds it helps begin
To deal with all our strife
A man stands as best he can
Asking himself, "Why?"
A desolate pain a lingered stay
A broken man can die
At god's fury he yells a flurry
Of words and excuses
And with loud thunder came asunder
Thoughts that confuses
And heavy lighting always blinding
Calls out to this pain
A voice of reason never treason
Eases his mental strain
A man lies for his demise
As he gazes at the sky
A fallen angel simply unable
As gods continue to cry.
-Metallman
Monday, June 8, 2009
This Weeks Art Out the Vault
Portrait of a Legend
Old Charcoal of Darrell Lance Abbott, AKA Dimebag Darrell.
Old Charcoal of Darrell Lance Abbott, AKA Dimebag Darrell.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Sleep: Night Two
By M.G.J.
Another night that I lay in bed staring up into a void, the glitter from the asbestoses filled ceiling sparkles like stars, reflecting light cast by the moon’s rays as they impale the blinds like a thousand small blades cutting into the skin, a surgeons tool, or the medium of psychopath. They paint a picture that tells a story, a space odyssey that takes me into the open space that I call my mind. It speaks of times when all was well. When we didn’t have to worry about not having enough for the rent, or whether we’d have food on the table. But with this dying economy, and past mistakes, how can I think of times now past? I see you lying beside me, remember our love, that night down by the railroad tracks, we were so in love then. They say all you need is love. How can you rest so peacefully? Can you not hear the sounds carried in the wind?
Can you not hear the wind rumbling in the distance, howling like two rabid wolves competing for the last bit of meat left on a rotting carcass? Can you not hear the screeching tires, the burning rubber, the hot lead that cuts through the air? Do you not wish to leave this wretched place? I hear the sirens in the distance, miles away yet they feel so close, they remind me like all else of the world that surrounds my tiny apartment, in this…Sinners Paradise. And once again like every night that damn clock. Tick TOCK Tick TOCK, beating like the pulse of a broken heart, dying for just one last ounce of a partners love. If only to reach into the chest and silence this life, could I have one nights rest? I begin to wonder why I have the clock in the first place. Ah yes, because its sound soothes you, helps you go to sleep. If you only realized its beating drives me to near insanity and back again, sets my mind in disarray. In my fascination with the sounds that enter my room all is silenced as that scream shrieks through my room like the night before, “Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!! Help!”
I jolt out of bed, the sound so close it hurts my ears. I forget what was on my mind; the worries fade, for I am safe behind these wooden walls unlike the owner of that voice, so painful, so lonely. If only I could help. I walk to the window peer through the blinds. All I see is dark, “Ahhhhhhhhh!!! Help m…..”Where is that voice coming from? As I try to make sense of what little is visible outside my window, a copter’s beam reflects off the glass showing me my reflection, or yours. I remember you robbed me of my soul sucked the life right out my eyes. You killed my mother with your selfish ways. I can never forgive you, wish I could forget yet every time I stare at my refection I see you. It is my living hell, a reminder of what you took from me, a reminder that I am just like you. I can smell Channel No. 5. It smells so real it makes me sneeze. I then wake to the taste of cherry lip balm, sweet, soft, wet…
Another night that I lay in bed staring up into a void, the glitter from the asbestoses filled ceiling sparkles like stars, reflecting light cast by the moon’s rays as they impale the blinds like a thousand small blades cutting into the skin, a surgeons tool, or the medium of psychopath. They paint a picture that tells a story, a space odyssey that takes me into the open space that I call my mind. It speaks of times when all was well. When we didn’t have to worry about not having enough for the rent, or whether we’d have food on the table. But with this dying economy, and past mistakes, how can I think of times now past? I see you lying beside me, remember our love, that night down by the railroad tracks, we were so in love then. They say all you need is love. How can you rest so peacefully? Can you not hear the sounds carried in the wind?
Can you not hear the wind rumbling in the distance, howling like two rabid wolves competing for the last bit of meat left on a rotting carcass? Can you not hear the screeching tires, the burning rubber, the hot lead that cuts through the air? Do you not wish to leave this wretched place? I hear the sirens in the distance, miles away yet they feel so close, they remind me like all else of the world that surrounds my tiny apartment, in this…Sinners Paradise. And once again like every night that damn clock. Tick TOCK Tick TOCK, beating like the pulse of a broken heart, dying for just one last ounce of a partners love. If only to reach into the chest and silence this life, could I have one nights rest? I begin to wonder why I have the clock in the first place. Ah yes, because its sound soothes you, helps you go to sleep. If you only realized its beating drives me to near insanity and back again, sets my mind in disarray. In my fascination with the sounds that enter my room all is silenced as that scream shrieks through my room like the night before, “Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!! Help!”
I jolt out of bed, the sound so close it hurts my ears. I forget what was on my mind; the worries fade, for I am safe behind these wooden walls unlike the owner of that voice, so painful, so lonely. If only I could help. I walk to the window peer through the blinds. All I see is dark, “Ahhhhhhhhh!!! Help m…..”Where is that voice coming from? As I try to make sense of what little is visible outside my window, a copter’s beam reflects off the glass showing me my reflection, or yours. I remember you robbed me of my soul sucked the life right out my eyes. You killed my mother with your selfish ways. I can never forgive you, wish I could forget yet every time I stare at my refection I see you. It is my living hell, a reminder of what you took from me, a reminder that I am just like you. I can smell Channel No. 5. It smells so real it makes me sneeze. I then wake to the taste of cherry lip balm, sweet, soft, wet…
Friday, June 5, 2009
Just a little Teaser from M.G.J.
Okay so Night two is ready to be posted. But you'll have to wait just a little longer to read it. Wanna build up the suspence. It will be posted tomorrow for sure. I have also already started night three, I actually had more for night three done before night two, just needs a little more fine tooning so expect night three shortly after night two. I really hope you all are enjoying the story I know I am enjoying writing them, and am very anxiouse to post them. I have gotten two comparisons to Max paine which is great because I've never played the game or seen the movie. I've also gotten comparisons to Poe before, but the truth is I don't read, lol.
Basilica
Hey there. We have music, poetry, comics and short stories coming your way, but today, we're introducing our first hit single! (Well, at least it's a hit in our dreams) Music is not done, but we've included a clip (played by yours truly) of what kind of sound we're leaning towards. Take a listen and let us know what you think. Until the song is complete, take a look at the lyrics(written by MGJ). Later.
Basilica
Staring up into the clouded sky
Wondering if I’ll ever be forgiven
Grays and blacks like my inner soul
Will I continue to pay for my sins?
As I walk
As I crawl
As I kneel before
The heavenly Basilica
Loss of my soul
Loss of belief
Loss of myself
The loss of my everything
As I beg for that second chance
Down on my knees as you watch me bleed
On my way to the Basilica
As I drag along on my hands and knees
Jagged rocks are deep within
Penetrating this beggar’s knees
Trail of the lost where the red river flows
That’s where you’ll find my fallen dreams
As I walk
As I crawl
As I kneel before
The heavenly Basilica
Loss of my soul
Loss of belief
Loss of myself
The loss of my everything
How can I believe when I’ve been betrayed?
An endless circle of agony
Time and time again I’ve been let down
Guess I’m just paying for my sins…
Basilica
Staring up into the clouded sky
Wondering if I’ll ever be forgiven
Grays and blacks like my inner soul
Will I continue to pay for my sins?
As I walk
As I crawl
As I kneel before
The heavenly Basilica
Loss of my soul
Loss of belief
Loss of myself
The loss of my everything
As I beg for that second chance
Down on my knees as you watch me bleed
On my way to the Basilica
As I drag along on my hands and knees
Jagged rocks are deep within
Penetrating this beggar’s knees
Trail of the lost where the red river flows
That’s where you’ll find my fallen dreams
As I walk
As I crawl
As I kneel before
The heavenly Basilica
Loss of my soul
Loss of belief
Loss of myself
The loss of my everything
How can I believe when I’ve been betrayed?
An endless circle of agony
Time and time again I’ve been let down
Guess I’m just paying for my sins…
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Sleep: Night Two Coming Soon
Hey there. We didn't hear much in regards to our first installment of Sleep, a short story, but that's not going to discourage us from pressing on! We're in the works of getting Sleep: Night Two out by tomorrow. Keep you eyes out for that! Later.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Sleep: Night One Commentary
Hey there. Sleep, is our first entry into our short story outlet. As you can see from the post, the visuals that are implemented really plant a picture in your mind as the you read along. We've thought about putting an audio version, along with the written post, so that the full effects can be experienced. What would you suggest? Written only or a written and an audio version underneath to be played by at the reader's discretion? Let's us know what you think. Later.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Sleep: Night One
By. M.G.J.
Many nights I find myself lying in my bed staring into the black somber space, emptiness fills my heart. I can feel you to my side yet I feel so alone, like a newborn child left in a basket set to drift down a wayward stream. Like there is no one in the room except for a numb motionless body. I can not bear to move. I can not sleep; can not bring myself to fade away into a world of dreams; a world where everything is at peace, where together we lay, happily, like lovers often do. Here in this world there is no sin, here I can give you everything you deserve, everything you desire. Here life is perfect. I hear the windows rattle as the copter draws closer, till it passes over head rattling the windows so hard dust fills the room sending pressure up my nose forcing me to sneeze. I’m now reminded of that musty smell of the slums, like a corpse left out to rot. It all reminds me of this sinful town; I wish I could leave this place. I wish I could close my eyes and forget.
Bright light fills the room illuminating everything in site temporarily blinding me before my eyes focus on the walls forming before my feet. The light climbing up the wall like hell fires forming the shape of the room, rising up to the heavens. My eyes fixate on that symbol. Ah, I forgot there was a cross hanging on the wall, how lovely, with all that has happened we still find the strength to reach out for intangible beliefs. Another painful reminder of how much I hate who I am, who I’ve become. I haven’t slept in days, I reek of sweat, and these damn noises don’t help. The leaky faucet dripping every minute like the tears you shed when you cry yourself to sleep. The ticking of the clock is counting down the hours till the inedible end, growing louder and LOUDER. Tick TOCK Tick TOCK. Your breath so soft and peaceful like a baby after feasting off the comfort of the bosom, the rhythm of the night fills the air, a scream heard down the street, breaks me from my state of motionlessness
I pull the sheets off my naked skin and rise from my bed. Chills now run down my spine as my bear skin is greeted by the cold night. “Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!” there it is again, that scream, so hollow. Poor soul must not have made it inside before the sun set, or perhaps a street walker, who else would be stupid enough to prowl around at night? I glance down at your resting body, your breast so plump, nipples hardened by the dead cold. How could you sleep through the night? I make my way to the bathroom. Each step I take squeaking like the rats feeding off the molding crumbs the very food from which we feed. Damn Vermin. I finally make it the bathroom. The door shuts as I walk in. Is it the draft rushing in from the broken window? I flick the light, nothing. What more should I Expect from this shit hole. The only light the reflection of the moon piercing through the window resting on my face. I stare into the mirror and see my reflection. I look just like you, your splitting image. No matter how hard I try to wash it away I can not. For I am you, you are me. I hate you. I hate you. I must stare for hours, for I can smell the morning. I can smell wet hair. I then wake to the taste of cherry lip balm, sweat, soft, wet...
Many nights I find myself lying in my bed staring into the black somber space, emptiness fills my heart. I can feel you to my side yet I feel so alone, like a newborn child left in a basket set to drift down a wayward stream. Like there is no one in the room except for a numb motionless body. I can not bear to move. I can not sleep; can not bring myself to fade away into a world of dreams; a world where everything is at peace, where together we lay, happily, like lovers often do. Here in this world there is no sin, here I can give you everything you deserve, everything you desire. Here life is perfect. I hear the windows rattle as the copter draws closer, till it passes over head rattling the windows so hard dust fills the room sending pressure up my nose forcing me to sneeze. I’m now reminded of that musty smell of the slums, like a corpse left out to rot. It all reminds me of this sinful town; I wish I could leave this place. I wish I could close my eyes and forget.
Bright light fills the room illuminating everything in site temporarily blinding me before my eyes focus on the walls forming before my feet. The light climbing up the wall like hell fires forming the shape of the room, rising up to the heavens. My eyes fixate on that symbol. Ah, I forgot there was a cross hanging on the wall, how lovely, with all that has happened we still find the strength to reach out for intangible beliefs. Another painful reminder of how much I hate who I am, who I’ve become. I haven’t slept in days, I reek of sweat, and these damn noises don’t help. The leaky faucet dripping every minute like the tears you shed when you cry yourself to sleep. The ticking of the clock is counting down the hours till the inedible end, growing louder and LOUDER. Tick TOCK Tick TOCK. Your breath so soft and peaceful like a baby after feasting off the comfort of the bosom, the rhythm of the night fills the air, a scream heard down the street, breaks me from my state of motionlessness
I pull the sheets off my naked skin and rise from my bed. Chills now run down my spine as my bear skin is greeted by the cold night. “Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!” there it is again, that scream, so hollow. Poor soul must not have made it inside before the sun set, or perhaps a street walker, who else would be stupid enough to prowl around at night? I glance down at your resting body, your breast so plump, nipples hardened by the dead cold. How could you sleep through the night? I make my way to the bathroom. Each step I take squeaking like the rats feeding off the molding crumbs the very food from which we feed. Damn Vermin. I finally make it the bathroom. The door shuts as I walk in. Is it the draft rushing in from the broken window? I flick the light, nothing. What more should I Expect from this shit hole. The only light the reflection of the moon piercing through the window resting on my face. I stare into the mirror and see my reflection. I look just like you, your splitting image. No matter how hard I try to wash it away I can not. For I am you, you are me. I hate you. I hate you. I must stare for hours, for I can smell the morning. I can smell wet hair. I then wake to the taste of cherry lip balm, sweat, soft, wet...
Monday, June 1, 2009
Metal Crow Productions Promotion
Hey there. We're not even a week old but I already see that we have a few followers and we've had some suggestions. We're still trying to get our name out there so we've signed up for the following services. If you're not a member of these services, please feel free to check em out and continue to support MC Productions! Thanks.
Entrecard
I'm pretty sure the majority of you are already members but if not, check it out since it's a great way to promote your site and visit others and with the recently added "cashout" service, it's a great way to promote and earn!
Adgitize
This is a great service that offers points for posts and advertiser clicks. Another great way to promote your site, all the while earning a few bucks while doing it.
I love the fact that this site will guarantee you at least 30 seconds from your visitors. If they have the time to check out your site, you're more than likely to earn a visitor with your content.
Keep an eye out for our logo. We're promoting our site and promoting it hard. Thanks for the support and we'll keep you updated with great content soon. Later.
Entrecard
I'm pretty sure the majority of you are already members but if not, check it out since it's a great way to promote your site and visit others and with the recently added "cashout" service, it's a great way to promote and earn!
Adgitize
This is a great service that offers points for posts and advertiser clicks. Another great way to promote your site, all the while earning a few bucks while doing it.
I love the fact that this site will guarantee you at least 30 seconds from your visitors. If they have the time to check out your site, you're more than likely to earn a visitor with your content.
Keep an eye out for our logo. We're promoting our site and promoting it hard. Thanks for the support and we'll keep you updated with great content soon. Later.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
