Outside, With Vincent

...It feels like it's been years. I've finally made a new photo! I'm really excited about it, I'm excited to be "working" again. I found a new little skeleton friend; his name seems to be Vincent. This is what we did today:

Two photographs combined. I think it looks like Vincent is laughing his ass off. 

My friend Alice inspired me to do this when she showed me another photographer's photo using a mirror in a similar way. I don't have a story to go along with this one because it wasn't really planned at all. I just grabbed a big-ish mirror of mine, a few props (large black sheet, my favorite hat), and Vincent and headed out into my yard.

This is definitely an idea I want to explore some more. It was actually a little difficult figuring out where to stand to get the angle I wanted for the mirror reflection. Having my remote shutter release really helped out with that; it would have been incredibly frustrating to have to use the self-timer.

I like the way it turned out and it was fun to spend an afternoon making this after a hard shift at "real" work. So thanks to Alice for the motivational kick~

52 Weeks III : June 10th - June 16th

I almost failed this week -- I kind of picked a bad time to start my 52 Weeks Project. For the past two weeks, I've been concentrating most heavily on my summer trip back up to New Jersey (and all the stress of school work I need to do while I'm up there), and having to get my house in order for that. So by the end of today, after running errands and cleaning for nine and a half hours, I remembered that I hadn't taken a self portrait this week. I actually had a pretty intense argument with myself about whether or not to take one, while doing the dishes. Eventually, I just sighed out loud because I didn't want to mess up this soon into the project. So here it is, working title: My Feet are Dead and I Need Coffee.

Normally, I would have dressed up, made sure Loki and Sól were in another room, taken the time to move shoes and iPads out of the frame, make everything perfect. But I decided to be super honest with this one. These are the clothes I've been working in all day, this is how the table looked at that moment. As always, the pets were following my every move around the house. In some ways, this might be the truest self portrait I've ever taken because, although it's not candid, it shows a totally "normal" moment in my private. Moments that few people have ever seen. This is definitely not the version of myself that is seen publicly very often. 

52 Weeks II : June 3rd - June 9th

I got myself a new camera toy...and I'm really excited about it! It's a remote shutter release, which allows me to take a photograph while I'm not at the camera, at any time that I want to. I've been doing self portraits since I was 17 and all those years, I've been using the self-timer on my camera, running back and forth between camera and scene in 10-20 seconds, and running back to press the shutter again. So I've gotten pretty good at getting into various positions in under 10 seconds, but it can be pretty exhausting. I had been meaning to get a remote shutter release for years and I finally stopped procrastinating. I'm so glad I did! I've had it for less than a day and I'm already obsessed. I doubt I'll ever go back to the self-timer again.

So I took my second self portrait in my 52 Weeks Project this evening, and got to try out my new shutter release.

And I didn't do a black and white again!

This is Untitled #2. I'm really trying to get better at lighting and that's why I decided to wait until it got dark out to do this. I ended up using a closet light (that you can see reflected in the window), my porch light, the street light at the end of my driveway, and a sparkler. I have a hard time getting the focus perfect when it's so dark (even with the closet light, I could hardly see anything inside), so I'm not very happy with that. But otherwise, it was so great using the remote shutter release. I'm not sure I would have been able to take this same portrait with the self-timer. Mine only goes up to 20 seconds, and getting outside, up on the railing, with the sparkler going would be extremely difficult in that amount of time. So a big, big Yay! for new camera toys!

52 Weeks I : May 27th - June 2nd

The 52 Week Self Portrait Project is something I've seen all over the web, from blogs to DeviantART to Flickr, and more. A simple Google search of "52 weeks self portraits" shows all kinds of results from amateur to professional photographers. Some have just started out and others have been doing it for years. The entire idea of the project - take one self portrait every week for a year - has really been inspiring me to practice both photography and posing more. Additionally, this project inspires me to come up with ideas that are simpler in nature, that aren't attached to stories I write out, requiring elaborate edits that stitch together several photographs to make one scene. I want these self portraits (which will be designated specifically as falling into the 52 Week category) to show minimal editing, and never anything that would qualify as photo-manipulation, unlike most of the work I've been doing for the past two years. I want all of the "effects" for these self portraits to be created in real life before the shutter is ever pressed.

Other goals I have for myself are to do more work in color rather than black and white, and to be braver with lighting as well as setting. Any time I'm out driving, I constantly look for areas I think would be great scenery for my photographs, but I hardly ever go back to use them. I want that to stop! If I see a place I think is perfect for an idea, I want to have the guts to do it, whether there are people around or not. A lot of the time, I allow myself to miss out on a great scene because it's public; I don't want to waste opportunities anymore. So, having said all that, here is the first of my 52 Week Self Portrait Project:

{It's black and white, I know.}

Untitled #1, taken in my bedroom sitting against the wall using natural light from a window. I dodged the background to downplay the texture of the wall, burned the molding around the floor to make it darker, and burned parts in the cloak to minimize the appearance of lint and cat hair -- all things that I would have done had this been film. Originally, I really wanted it to be a color shot because I painted my entire face red; however, I just couldn't get the tones looking the way I wanted. I have a lot of practice to do with color indoors. The rest of the editing was desaturating the colors, tweaking with the levels, curves, and contrast, and a slight gaussian blur around the cloak. Normally, I would have wanted to use a texture or part of another photo, so this image looks really empty to me. It might take me some time getting used to not working within my normal habits.

I'm excited to start this new project and hopefully improve my skill. The hardest part is going to be sticking to the time frame, so wish me some luck and perseverance. Thank you for viewing ♥~

A New Venture: Henna Hair Dye and Strand Testing

My hair has definitely been on a really crazy journey (it's had more adventures than I have)! I've worn many different cuts and styles and have been dying it all different colors since I was in 8th grade. But along the way, my hair experienced a lot of damage. I got really sick of having short, brittle hair that broke easily. I stopped box-dying altogether, and tried henna hair dye for the first time, specifically this product from Lush. I have been a long time Lush customer and was so excited to try their hair dyes when they came out with them, but I was completely dismayed when their henna dye damaged my hair just like a box dye. So I gave up on dying my hair myself and started going to a salon.

Then, one day earlier this year, I heard my friend Alice talking talking about the henna hair dye she uses herself. She has gorgeous, long, healthy, red hair:

Photo posted with her permission. ♥

I asked her where she gets her henna hair dye from and she explained that she uses body art quality henna from Mehandi. I immediately started doing research (have been doing so since then), and have now decided to try out this henna hair dye for myself. I ordered a 3 gram sample and it arrived in the mail yesterday. I've recently shaved part of my head and I kept some strands from that in order to do a strand test. Here is my original hair:

I could seriously use a trim for split-ends, but this is the longest and healthiest it's been in years. This is the also the un-washed, un-styled, natural texture.

I took photos in the sunlight to try to show the truest color I could in the camera.

After getting some "fresh" locks of hair to use for the dye test, I prepared the henna:

It seems the most common acidic liquid used is lemon juice, but Alice gave me the tip that using orange juice makes her hair less dry. My hair can be prone to really drying out, so I opted to use orange juice as well. In my research, I've seen several warnings against using coffee or vinegar (acetic acid).

At this point, the henna is now ready to be used! Some people really don't like the smell of henna, but I like it quite a lot. It's kind of grassy and soil-smelling, and the orange juice gives it a bit of a sweet fragrance too. I've seen some articles that talk about other oils that can be added to henna to improve the smell, but I've only seen people using henna for body art doing this. I wouldn't ever add anything to the henna for use as a hair dye, but that's just me. If you really hate the smell though, some of the Mehandi info pages say you can add powdered ginger and/or cardamom to the mixture.

I know this picture looks weird and maybe gross...it's kind of hard to make it not look that way.

You'll want to cover the hair locks (or your entire head) with plastic wrap in order to keep the henna moist and warm. This will keep things a little less messy and will also improve the color of the dye. For my test strands, I decided to let it sit for 3 hours to see what the middle ground of time would yield. I left some space at the ends of each hair lock in order to have a comparison of colors when finished. Here is what the henna looked like in my hair locks after it was washed out and dried:

Successful, I think! but...I'm not finished yet.

So, I love red hair and I think Alice's above looks absolutely amazing, but for all the years I've been dying my hair different colors, I always eventually go back to black. It's the color I feel most comfortable with and most like myself in, but I don't want to keep paying for a salon to dye my hair black with chemicals. The original Lush henna dye that I used had indigo added to it to make it black hair dye, but through my research, I've learned the proper way to dye hair black naturally is first with henna, and then again with indigo. So after washing the henna out and allowing the hair to dry, it's time to mix up the indigo dye:

The big difference between dying with henna and dying with indigo is the time. First of all, do not let the indigo set out after it's mixed! Henna needs that time over night for the dye to release, but indigo needs to be used immediately after it is mixed, and leftovers cannot be used. Wait until you are totally ready to dye your hair with indigo before mixing it. Then, the same procedure is followed as with henna, and the plastic wrap is used again to keep it neat, moist, and warm.

The look of the indigo can be a little alarming at first because it's so green, but the longer it is left out in the air, the more it oxidizes and changes to a dark, blue-black color. Note that while henna needs to stay in the hair for 2-4 hours, indigo is only left in for 1 hour. Indigo also smells a lot different than henna. I wouldn't say it's an unpleasant smell, but it's not as nice as the henna. It sort of smells like peas or celery powder. According to Mehandi, ginger/cardamom can also be added to indigo to improve the smell if desired.

After the indigo sat in my hair locks for an hour, I washed them out and let them air dry. Here are the final results:

I'm not completely blown away by the indigo. It is definitely dark, but not as dark as I was hoping. However, all of the information I've read repeats that although it may have a slightly greenish hue to it at first, over 1-2 days following application, the indigo dye will oxidize further and mature into a deep blue-black (and there are lots of photos of beautiful black hair). So I'm going to keep an eye on the hair strands and see how the color changes.

Besides that, I'm very happy with how this test went. The indigo made the strands feel a little dry, but I was expecting that. I didn't feel, however, any of the type of elastic feeling that hair gets after being heavily damaged by box dye. Even the original Lush henna dye I tried gave my hair that icky, stretchy feeling and caused a lot of breakage. I didn't notice anything like that kind of damage during this test, so if I'm happy with how the indigo color looks over the next two days, I will definitely be using Mehandi henna on my hair. I've gone through and calculated how expensive I think it will be the first time around, and if I'm correct, I'm expecting between $62-$70. That might seem like a lot, but I was paying more at the salon (around $80) for dye that fades fast and is full of harsh chemicals. I definitely don't want that for my hair anymore, so the price to me is worth it.

I'm really excited about this new venture and I will be updating with how it goes for my whole head of hair. I'm so grateful to Alice for her recommendation, and if people have questions about henna hair dye and henna in general, I would, along with Alice, recommend the Mehandi site as well as far as information goes. It's very thorough and easy to understand, with tons of free e-books, a forum, tutorials, and more. ♡

The Water Bride

Self portrait from today with a short story titled "The Water Bride" pending! I'm working on something that is sort of historical fiction set in the East Indies. It's starting to run a little away from me so I wanted to take a break and revisit it. I still wanted to share the photo I made today to go along with it. Taken in my living room, and I used a texture from my friend Sa Scha -- his textures are unbelievable and his is so generous about letting other artists use them. Danke!~

Enjoying Exercise

I think one of the things that makes sticking to an exercise plan difficult is the feeling of obligation and the lack of excitement. But not at first -- I do it all the time. I'm completely committed for a week or two, waking up early, making time, doing cardio, weight-lifting, ab work outs, etc. Sometimes, I go over to the gym and use the machines there. Other times, I stay at home and do a P90X routine. Every day I look forward to that time I make for myself, but after those 10 days or so, my enthusiasm starts to wane because I'm not actually enjoying my workouts. They are something I've made room for by taking away a different activity that I do like. If you go about exercising in this way, you'll never have a sustainable daily practice. At least, that's what I believe.

So I've been trying something different. I'm taking activities that I already enjoy and don't put into the exercise/working out category and I'm upping them so that they are more physically challenging. But I'm still holding onto what the original activity entails so that I can keep having fun with it. For example:

I love walking Sól. I get to bond with my dog and see him having fun, I get to explore the neighborhood where I live. I get to enjoy nature, the nice breeze, and I always feel better when I come home from a walk because I've done something that makes me and my dog happy. So instead of giving up that time that I love, I can change it in order to get even more benefits. I increase my time to walking for at least 30 minutes, but if I can, to go for an hour. I walk at a faster pace, and I take routes that have more hills. When I have a little bit more money, I would like to get some ankle weights as well as a pedometer to track my distance. But besides these few changes, my walks with Sól are the same. It doesn't seem like much, but mentally it goes a long way in order to keep yourself enthusiastic about becoming and staying more active.

And just because it's exercise doesn't mean I can't bring my camera along to get a few shots of the things I appreciate while I'm walking around town:

My absolute favorite house in town. I've never seen a witchier-looking manor. This is a total dream house for me.

A beautiful park that is about 30 minutes on foot away from me.  It's a very relaxing area.

I love seeing him so smiley (even though it's hot outside!)

I feel like I'm in a storybook when I walk here.

This treasure exists on my street, only a few doors down. I'm pretty certain it's abandoned and I would love to get over there to do a photoshoot soon.

I like to think that after we get home and rest, he thinks about the great, long walk we just went on.

Keeping motivation alive can be really difficult. Being healthy and happy with yourself is a lifestyle change that requires commitment and sacrifice. It can be really hard to continue to make choices that work for your goals because we become so dependent upon routine. But I really believe that with some creativity, research, and dedication, we can make our breaks from routine fun, enjoyable, and events worth looking forward to. I'm practicing this method everyday, and some days, I truly feel like I'm getting close. 

The Hands' Descendent

Left behind.

Picked up.

Observed.

Prayed over.

Questioned.

Institutionalized.

Visited.

Entertained.

Fed meals.

Enjoyed company.

Spread disease.

Exercised.

Given a name.

Forgiven.

+ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +

Quick photoshoot I did today on my deck -- it was colder than I realized outside! I was going to remove my tattoo from the photo, but once I started that, it just got more and more involved and I didn't want to spend two hours just on that. I'm lazy.

I was thinking about a lot of things when I made this, but it was inspired overall by the movie The Sound of My Voice (2011). I rented it as soon as it came out, after seeing trailers for it months earlier. My first time viewing, I didn't really like it at all and was disappointed. But I kept thinking about it, decided to watch it again, and now I'm on my way to loving it (that happens a lot; I really need to open my mind)..

Vultures

Do you know why vultures eat corpses?

They're scavengers, they're lazy.

Some people think so.

What do you think?

Vultures were once people, lost people who stayed lost. The fog swallowed them.

That's only a story. Lost people are just people.

No, it's the Gods' honest truth! After it rains and the fog descends, all the missing people lose control. They scream and cry out. They are overtaken by a paralysis and their arms grow feathers.

Listen to you. Where did you hear all this?

Mr. Lester told me! He swears it. He told me his sister went missing once, but it was muddy and he could follow her footprints. He saw her fall in the field and roll, her clothes were filthy and he couldn't see her face. She was screaming and the birds everywhe--

You shouldn't take Mr. Lester seriously. His sister left for the City. He's been mad with grief ever since.

No, she didn't leave for the City! If she did, how come no one's heard from her? She doesn't write or visit.

You've never met her. She left before you could walk. How would you know she hasn't written?

Because Mr. Lester isn't the only one who talks about her, and she isn't the only one who's gone to the City and never come back. No one ever comes back from the City. How do we even know there is a City? Have you ever been there?

Of course not, but that doesn't mean there isn't a City. You've never been to the Well with me, but the Well is still there.

Just listen! Mr. Lester said her arms flew back like they were pulled, her face grew long and her screams were terrible. He said it's the worse thing he's ever heard or seen. He said she started to turn black all over and the air grew cold. The wind changed direction and the vultures came from nowhere, sitting in the trees and watching like they knew her!

Vultures don't know people. Vultures are just large, lazy scavengers. They clean up the messes from the other animals. They let everything else do the work and then they leave. Don't let the stories of an old man fool you.

He isn't fooling me. We only see vultures in the village when someone goes missing, or 'goes to the City.' They're only here when it's foggy. Do you ever remember seeing them when the Sun is out?

No, I don't, but I don't concern myself with the movements of vultures. You shouldn't either. Look, you're sweating and working yourself up.

You don't believe me.

You're speaking of ridiculous things, the raving of a lonely man who has no family left. Vultures aren't people. I don't want you seeing Mr. Lester anymore.

But I like Mr. Lester. He needs someone to believe him. He saw these things happen, the Gods' honest truth!

He didn't see anything. I don't want you seeing him, I don't want him filling your head with his crazy stories. You shouldn't be so gullible.

♫ When the fogs roll in, the night is dark,

And the animals quiet, even the lark.

When the light is blocked by all the clouds,

Not even the priests will speak aloud.

That is when the lost are called,

One by one, alone, they fall,

And a lonely brother can see her there,

She goes away, he knows not where.

She joins the others in the sky,

To feast on corpses when the fog rolls by.

We don't believe the legends of the Wood,

But it's the Gods' honest truth that we should. ♫

Photo-An-Hour : 9th March 2013

I've seen this project on many blogs -- take one photo every hour for your day -- and I wanted to try it so badly. So on my last day off from work, I decided to do it. It worked out that the same day was also Margarita Saturday. Needless to say, after a certain point in the night, the photos stopped, but I already love having the memories of each of the [early] hours of that day. I don't know where this project originated, but I'm glad it did. I'll be doing this again in the future.

✶ ~ Margarita Saturday ~ ✶

10:30 -- COFFEE.

11:30 -- a trip to the animal shelter to gather skin swabs. I wish I could take this cat home (I drew blood off the same cat a few weeks ago...)

12:30 -- looking out my window at the beautiful weather.

13:30 -- writing study guides for microbiology.

14:30 -- doing my makeup and getting ready to go out.

15:30 -- Margarita Saturday begins!

16:30 -- one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor . . .

17:30 -- so this happened.

18:30 -- Sól enjoying the party!

19:30 -- the party enjoying Sól.

....maybe it's a good thing that's as far as I got. I wish I had gotten a fresh photo of the new bruise I got shooting arrows in the yard the same night. This was such a fun idea (and a fun day)! If anyone knows of the original source of Photo-An-Hour, please let me know! I'd love to give credit to the idea.

I hope everyone enjoyed their weekend. Spring Break (and Nick Cave!!!) next week. Hopefully I'll get the chance to do this again soon~

Bath-Tub

-Margaret Atwood

Sometimes when that pain is twisting you, gnawing at your spine, eating your stomach -- all you need for relief is heat, water, salt, floral scents of lavender and honeysuckle, a good book, a pot of chamomile tea . . .

I really wish I had more time to give to myself.

A Walk in the Woods

Clint and I took Sól (my Standard Poodle) out in the woods with us yesterday afternoon. Puppy loved it!

Friends walking together.

For all the things I dislike about Kentucky, I love the landscape.

Sól got filthy in the snow melt mud. I can't wait to shave him down...

Happy Moon Day; have a great week!

Day of the Bison

Yesterday morning I drove over to Land Between the Lakes in Kentucky in order to work at the South Bison Range for a few hours. The herd there needed their inoculations and anthelmintics, and some of the members needed new ear tags. Originally, we were told that we would be assisting with blood collection, so I was somewhat disappointed to find out that we would only be there in order to observe (for five hours), but overall, it was an amazing experience for which I am grateful.

Myself and others from my lab classes arrived at 7:00am and had a brief safety lecture before heading out to the field (which was in Tennessee). The air was warm and muggy, but the wind kept it crisp and cooler, though I rather would have wanted it cold and dry than warmish and wet. The sky was a bright, formless grey which made it difficult to get decent photographs -- I've never been very adept at shooting in the shade; I've always preferred harsher sunlight.

 If any readers are familiar with cattle farm operations, it was a similar, though larger, setup. The bison were kept in small groups in different paddocks. There were a series of numbered gates leading to these paddocks, and also one that lead into the surrounding field. The small groups were herded into an area that became progressively more narrow, until they were moving single file. As a bison approached the section holding the scale, a gate was closed behind them and in front of them to keep them contained. Their weight was then recorded, and afterwards they were lead into the head chute. Once there, a nose twitch was applied to calm them down, ear tags were replaced as needed, and the appropriate medication given. They were then released into the open field, where most of them ran off into the distance immediately.

I was quite struck by their capacity for facial expression. This was the closest by far that I have ever been to bison, close enough to some that I could have touched their faces. Their eyes were bright, rich browns, and goat-like. Their brows conveyed emotion that I could only interpret as surprise, worry, anxiety, anger, boredom, and relief. It was easy to tell the older members who had been through the process many times before, from the younger ones who had still not accepted the situation. 

 I was extremely overjoyed to see the young bison, especially this smallest one:

He was most likely terrified, and I felt so sympathetic toward him, but I couldn't help but appreciate how limber he was. In fact, I could not believe how limber they all were, even the largest adults. They could jump straight up in the air, change direction running so quickly. They were moving in ways more flexible than any horse I've ever seen, and had a deer-like quality to their movements that I had not expected. When they were released from the paddocks, they loped with a smooth gracefulness that reminded me of bears or giraffes.

I also fell in love with their coats. They had a texture to them that I wanted to feel so badly. I imagined it almost as rough as quills on the outside, but a softer layer underneath, like down. They displayed so many colors in their coats, with the most attractive being a black-faced individual of whom I was not able to get a photograph. But nothing was as impressive to me as those goat-like eyes, especially the largest bull in the herd:

When he was brought into the paddock, he showed no fear or apprehension to us onlookers. He walked right to the edge of the fence and watched all of us, with a very serious calm that I immediately respected. He was like the Great Prince of the Forest in Bambi, a wise elder who had made a certain peace with Life. I think I'm personifying this animal far beyond what I should, but locking eyes with such an enormous creature (I estimate his shoulder height was 6.5-7 feet, and he weighed over 1600 lbs, if I remember correctly) was sublime in its own small way. It was one of my favorite moments of the day, and I can understand completely now why such animals have been considered sacred for centuries. And I believe they understand it as well: it can be seen in their elders' eyes, in the ways they carry themselves. I feel completely fortunate to have witnessed it.

Oh, give me a home where the Buffalo roam,

where the Deer and the Antelope play,

where seldom is heard a discouraging word,

and the sky is not cloudy all day.

I never really appreciated those words before, but I do now.

Young bison, animated .gif made by myself.

The Black Window that Birthed Me

Here is another collage I made of five of my old photos. I wrote this story to go with it.

Somewhere in an empty country, there is an empty church and within it, a furnace. The few people who live there know the furnace is the heart of their God. He eats skulls and cats and traveling birds. And he spits out little humans, motley children formed in the dust.

The ritual started taking shape approximately 400 years ago. Those few people knew how to read and write then, but they also wanted to keep their secrets: the reasons why their relatives had such unusual coloring, why they were so good at climbing or swimming or hunting squirrels. They did not want the rest of the world to know about their apprehension toward a bipedal lifestyle -- they could walk on two legs, but it was uncomfortable. The only way we know about this history today is because some of those few people did keep their stories, stories their children kept as well.

On the last new moon of each cold year, the last and darkest night, those young adults, looking to conceive their first child, line up outside the church door. Each of them brings a large basket, containing a sacrificial animal, a libation of beer or milk, a lock of their hair. Alone, they climb the stairs and enter the church. What they see, they are forbidden to tell. God will test each of them individually, give them a personalized horror, extract from them an oath of silence, discover their true will within parenthood. With their offerings, they feed the heart of God, and hear his laughter. The milk and beer are burned away, those waiting outside inhale the scent of scorched hair. The floor inside the church is piled ever higher with the bones of the animals. Everyone can hear the screaming of a new baby.

Babies with dark skin and light hair and light eyes. Babies with yellow eyes and long fingernails. Babies with slitted pupils and full, black curls. They develop quickly, learn language easily. They don't remember where they came from, and they never ask. 

The population of this country gets smaller each passing year. Less prospective parents line up outside the church on the last and darkest night. They are beginning to forget everything about their past, and God is beginning to forget them. 

A Little Experimentation

I'm already feeling the effects of class and work in my huge lack of time! Even now, this is just a fast post before I have to go to work in a half hour (update: I didn't actually get this finished before I had to leave). But I wanted to share something I'm working on that I think could be a little of a new direction for me artistically.

I don't have a title for it; this was literally just an exercise ~ put on some music, grab some of my old photos and make something new out of them. It was truly therapeutic. Just an hour to myself in the morning with some tea and sunshine at the dining room table. 

I want to become a better narrator and go beyond the past year and a half of work I've been doing. I don't want my characters to become limited by my own world. I want to make them homes that are theirs. I'm really enjoying using my old work to practice on and shifting my work habits toward a more organic and less rigid flow, both in terms of my thought process and how I actually put a piece's component parts together. I like the experience of evolution, even as little as it may be. 

I think I'm beginning to feel more positive, truly and at last. 

Death Collections

Even at the height of summer, the trees are dead in Winterland. It's a ghost continent, lost somewhere at the North Pole, erased from maps and memory, where the cold preserves almost everything, where people rarely die.

Death likes to vacation there, get away from the rest of the world where his services are constantly needed. The people of Winterland treat him differently: they invite him in for coffee and black jack, include him in their home movies. The children carry around his little effigies and play with them in the snow.

The people of Winterland give alms to Death, tithes paid in blades and black silk, polar bear hides if it's been a prosperous season. All their exports go to him, and before his return to the daily grind of taking souls, he makes his way through the towns of Winterland, stopping at gates and doors to receive his appreciation. "We'll see you next year, Mister," she said, bowing her head in quiet respect.

Death gently took her gift and turned away, the fog curling around the edges of his cloak, and shadows settling where he once laid his feet.