Tag Archives: #artist

by

Nathaniel’s Private E-Journal – August 2005 : “Beginning A New Chapter…”

Summer in West Virginia hasn’t changed all that much in a hundred and fifty years and tonight is no exception.  It hit the upper 80’s which in and of itself isn’t so bad, but the humidity makes it feel much worse.  Brian and his family are out of town, so I spent part of the evening with Jack, the town’s physician, and his family.  They know my secret and have kept it to themselves for the past one hundred and twenty years.  It was nice spending time with his mother and grandmother.  As much as time has passed I still see them both as little girls who I used to take up into the evening sky on a warm summer night.  


But only when the sky was clear.  Tonight there are clouds overhead so I can’t even enjoy the stars.  I’d have spent the rest of the evening with Jack and his family, but they were hosting a party with others from out of town and I didn’t want some of our conversations overheard, so I left early and headed to The Crypt.


One of the nice things about having a private club that’s located in the basement level of an old building is that it doesn’t get too hot down there and I’m not the only one who knows this fact.  Even before I turned down the alley and reached the stairs that led down into my club, I could hear the music playing, accompanied by laughter and cheering.  

Upon opening the door I find the room is full bodies gyrating to the latest hit tunes my new disc jockey is playing.  He goes by the name of Scar-Man due to on old wound that runs from his forehead and across his face.  Thank God I got to him in time, otherwise it could’ve been a lot worse.  I’ve offered to help him get it fixed but he always refuses.  “I need to remember where I’ve been… so I don’t forget where I’m goin’,” he always tells me, so I leave it at that.


He spots me from across the room and gives me a questioning look.  Some nights I like to make a grand entrance, other times I don’t.  Tonight is one of the latter.  Instead I find myself in a reflective mood and give a little shake to my head.  He nods and keeps the party going.

I quietly make my way through the crowd in my own unique way.  I pass between bodies that only a fly could navigate without anyone noticing.  Soon I’ve reached a dark quiet corner of the room where I can observe without being noticed.  There is a table here and I settle in and let my eyes roam.  Oddly enough they fall upon one of the old vaudeville posters I have lining my wall.  My mind begins thinking about how things were back in the 1910’s and the 1920’s.  Without realizing it, my eyes swing back to the crowd on the dance floor and I see something wondrous.  My eyes are clearly seeing the young people moving back and forth, flirting, and kissing and having a wonderful time.  Yet in the same moment in my mind I’m seeing another image super-imposed over them.  I see uniforms from bygone eras.  One moment I see the Union blue, then the brown ones we wore back in World War I, in another instant I’m seeing the dresses become flapper style, while the young men are decked out in the old Zoot suits.

The styles continue to change, yet the emotions and feelings are still the same as I watch the figures both before me and in my memories.  Something stirs within me as I stare.  Soon I leave my little corner of the club and head upstairs.  Normally, I’d take the actual stairs themselves, but tonight I take my ‘mist’ form and head upwards until I reach the door that leads to my art studio and slip through the open transom above it.

Once inside my artistic sanctuary I solidify and stare around at my surroundings.  Canvasses, both finished and still under way, line the floor and walls.  

I soon find myself studying each one intently.  My mind begins to think back to when I created each one and the story that led to their creation.  But more than just the stories return, so do the emotions that inspired the imagery.  Before long I find myself exploring where those stories and feelings began which culminated in these artworks.  I’ve often heard people say, “I wonder what the story is behind this art piece…”   Well, I know each and every story behind my works.  Some of them are simple, others could fill page upon page of a number of books.  

“And I’m the only one who still knows most of them…” I murmur to myself as new thoughts enter my mind.  “Do I dare…” I whisper to the silence that surrounds me.


TO BE CONTINUED…

by

The Artist – August 2007 Part XI The Conclusion

As it turned out, Nathan and I returned to the studio the next evening and indeed the piece was finished. Mind you, we still had to spend most of the night allowing the kiln to cool down before we dared remove my precious art piece from within. I’m pleased to say, it came out perfectly. It was everything I wanted it to be.

“It’s beautiful,” Nathan told me inside our shared space.

“I wouldn’t have been able to finish it without your help,” I replied. “I wish I could thank you properly…”

“How do you mean?” he replied curiously. 

“You know, giving you a huge hug and all that,” I told him, shrugging our shoulders.

Next thing I knew we were face to face again, inside his mind once more. We were surrounded by fleeting images of his memories again, and this time I caught a few glimpses of our working on my sculpture.

Meanwhile, Nathan opened his arms and I quickly did the same.

“Thank you… thank you so much…” I blubbed, feeling tears of actual tears running down my cheeks. Then I pulled back and looked at him and asked, “Why? Why did you do all this, sharing your body with me and all?”

“Because, you asked for my help,” he said simply.

I shook my head eyeing him carefully, “No, there’s more to it than that. You’ve let me inside you, literally, in a way you yourself said you rarely do. So why me?”

All around us the images changed and I saw myself, much younger, eyes wide and frightful. That’s when I got it. “You felt guilty about me seeing what you did to those men, all those years ago,” I breathed.

He nodded. “The look in your eyes whenever we met, I never understood why you looked so troubled and standoffish. I just thought I was just reminding you of what you went through. I’d had no idea you saw…”

I reached up and stroked his face. “Don’t. Neither Brian nor I would be here today if you hadn’t shown up and did what you did.”

“I killed…”

“People who had tortured children and were going to do much worse. Plus, you were already injured and still outnumbered. They pushed you too far and you fought back the only way left to you. Not to save yourself, but to save me, Brian and all those other children. I know that now. I also know you’re a good person, which is why I trusted you enough to accept your offer to help me. And I’m never going to forget it,” I told him.

“Thank you,” he sighed and finally smiled. We hugged again and as we separated, I guess I had a funny expression on my face, because he asked, “What is it?”

“The door between us? You said you could close it when we were done, but… would please leave it open, just a crack? Please?” I asked hopefully.
“Is that what you want?”

I nodded.

He smiled. “Always.”

I hugged him again and soon after I found myself back in my body in my hospital room. No one was there, but I didn’t feel alone. I could still feel Nathan, and that made it easier for me to rest.

All of this happened about two months ago, and I can still feel his presence even when he’s not around. But, tonight I can see as well as feel him. Here at my exhibition, he’s been making the rounds, but was close by when it came time to unveil my piece. My jaw and hands are still healing, although I can actually talk again. As for the hands, they’ve responded well to the surgeries and I’m even using clay as part of my therapy to build up strength in them again. But now I know for sure I’ll be able to keep making works of art and beauty once more.

As you can expect, my mom burst into tears of joy when she saw it. She hugged me, carefully of course, since I’m still healing. Still it was so worth it. She could barely speak, she was so moved, but her eyes and smile spoke louder than the entire New York Philharmonic symphony blasting the 1812 overture. 

I briefly wondered if Nathan was feeling what I was experiencing, then saw the huge smile on his face across the room. Brian and his family were with them, as well as Jack’s. They’re part of what Nathan calls his “extended” family, and now I am too…

“And always will be…” I hear in my head. 

“Back at you,” I reply through our link, and he smiles.

  • THE END

by

The Artist- August 2007 Part X

“Okay,” I said aloud, “First I’m going to place the sculpture inside the kiln and set it to just under 200 degrees.” As I/we spoke, I did exactly that. Opening up the kiln and then ever so carefully placed my masterwork inside. Then I proceeded to set the kiln in motion.

“How long will this take?” Brian asked curiously.

“Possibly, until morning or noon,” I answered, and proceeded to settle down on the couch Brian had been sleeping on earlier. 

“And then it will be finished?” asked Nathan through our shared mouth.

“No, that’s when I HOPE it will be dry and safe enough to proceed with the actual firing schedule I mentioned before,” I answered.

I suddenly felt a sense of unease inside. “Nathan?” I asked mentally.

“Someone needs to be here the whole time, and I didn’t bring anything I might need,” he answered. 

“Like blood?’

“Yeah,” we shook our head, “I hadn’t anticipated such an eventuality.”

“Oh dear…” I murmured aloud, which caught Brian’s attention and told him the situation.

He smiled and assured us that a call to Jack would take care of that problem in no time.

Still Nathan seemed uneasy. After a bit of mental urging he told me what was bothering him. “I’ve never had someone inside my head when I’ve had to satisfy my ‘needs’. I was figuring on having you back in your own body before it became a necessity.”

Now, I understood. But if we were to dry my sculpture in the kiln, I needed to be here. Especially if I wanted it to be ready on time. 

Taking over the mouth again I said, “Brian please make the call so we can have everything Nathan needs while he and I finish my sculpt.”

Inside our head I heard Nathan saying, “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” I replied. “You’ve done so much already, the least I can do is not let you be deprived of what you need.”

“You do realize that when I ‘drink’…”

“Yeah, I get that. I’m just going to tell myself we’re drinking a Bloody Mary.” To my relief, he didn’t argue. Which is good because I then thought about the literal version of the drink I’d mentioned, I began to get uneasy myself.So together we settled in on the couch, while Brian called the hospital. About half an hour later, Dr. Jack showed up with what Nathan needed, as well as some regular food. 

The four of us sat and ate (well three actually ate), but still I got to enjoy experiencing how Nathan’s  sense of smell and taste worked. He’s got much more acute senses on both those fronts, than I had expected. Of course, when it came to what he really needed, I went to my ‘Happy Place’ inside our shared head. Although I have to admit, I did kind of take notice of what the blood tasted like and how his body reacted to it. I can sympathize with how taking in blood is not something that is ‘optional’ for him. But I won’t go into that, it’s not my place to go there. 

But afterwards, ‘we’ felt much better and after shooing Brian and Dr. Jack to their respective homes, Nathan and I began the long ‘firing’. We passed the time sharing thoughts and life experiences. Too numerous and private to share here. Then after morning came and I was convinced the clay was dry enough, we fired the kiln up to a proper level to finish what I had started. 

These next hours would be crucial and we’d have to watch the piece as carefully as possible. I had noticed that during the drying, I could actually hear some of the moisture escaping the clay inside the kiln through Nathan’s ears. I found this very reassuring. It meant that if any cracking began to take place during the final firing, we’d hear it and could take action.

After setting things in motion, we began the last stage of our vigil. To pass the time I convinced Nathan to pull out some of the clay here in the studio and we began working with it. It was kind of fun to experience with him the joy of going from doubtful about his ability to create with clay to enthusiastic. It took me back to my first time working with the creative process in three dimensions.

Of course we kept an eye on how the firing process was coming along as we passed the hours. I thought heard a pop at one point, which turned out to have come from outside. Damn his hearing could be a little too good. When evening came, we started to let the kiln and it’s precious content cool down. I knew at this point there was nothing else we could do and let Nathan know. 

“In that case, I think we should let you get back to your body for the night,” he replied.  

The next thing I knew I was staring up at the ceiling of my hospital room. A moment later, Dr. Jack’s smiling visage came into view. 

“Welcome back,” he smiled, “Blink once for yes and twice for no. Everything go okay?”

I responded as he instructed.

“So it’s all done?”

I blinked twice and spent the next ten minutes answering his questions. By the time we finished he had a pretty good understanding of where things stood. “I see,” he nodded, “So Nathan will be taking you back again tomorrow. I’ll make sure you’re still undisturbed, aside from the staff again. Hopefully, tomorrow will be it.”

So did I….

TO BE CONCLUDED NEXT TIME…

by

The Artist – August 2009 Part IX

 I/we made our way over to the plastic covered figure and carefully unwrapped it. Somewhere behind us Brian took in a deep breath, followed by the words, “Oh my God… it’s… it’s going to be one of your best pieces.”

I felt/heard Nathan share the same sentiments inside our shared head. “Agreed.”

“But there’s still so much to do,” I told them both, glancing over at the wall next to the sculpture. There was a bulletin board with several photos of my grandfather, at least one of them in uniform. The rest were a couple of him even younger, as well as several of him later in life. I had gathered them to try and help me capture the spark of determination in his eye, the set of his jaw, as well as the… the spirit of the man who would come out of not just one but two great wars. I wanted to capture the man he was and would become all in one shot.

But now I hesitated and looked down at my/our hands. I knew they could work the clay, but would they have ‘my’ touch?

“Of course they will,” Nathan assured me. “This is where I take a backseat. You’re in charge. Just think of your grandfather and go for it.”

As soon as I heard those words in my head, I saw my grandfather in my mind as clear as day. Clearer than I’d ever been able to remember him. Honestly, I could see every detail in his face that I wanted to capture and just knew what needed to be done. 

What happened over the next twelve hours will remain with me forever. Never had the clay felt so soothing and yielding to my touch. It and I were in harmony like never before. Had Brian not fallen asleep, letting out the occasional snore, I would never have realized how much time was passing. Nathan and I only paused briefly to allow him to take over and drink what our body needed, before going back to work. 

Every now and again, I’d start to wonder if he wasn’t helping guide my hands, but I knew better. I could sense his wonder at what his hands were helping create under my direction.  Finally, we took step back and into Brian who had been fast asleep on the couch nearby. I’d it in the studio from day one, knowing there’d be times when I would need to stay overnight from time to time. I admit it, when I get going I don’t like to let up some days.

“What the… huh?” Brian muttered then his eyes fell on the sculpt. “Oh my God! It’s… it’s perfect!” he breathed.

“You’re telling me,” Nathan murmured out of our shared mouth. I could actually feel his sense of awe which only added to my delight in this moment. I’d succeeded! But there was still more work to be done.

Walking over to the shelves I pulled out a long thin wire with wooden handles tied to each end. Then I headed back over to the piece and started stretching the wire from the head of the piece down to its base. 

“Um… what are we doing?” Nathan asked aloud. I realized this was for Brian’s sake, as he was looking as puzzled as Nathan was feeling.

“This,” I replied and pulled on the handles of the wire, which slowly sank into the clay, neatly severing the sculpture into two sections. 

“OH MY GOD! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” Nathan cried, making us take a step back. But I quickly took over and brought us back just in time to catch the back half of the piece before it fell onto the table. 

Before I could explain, Brian cut in saying, “Oh… that’s so you can remove the armature inside the statue.”

Inside our head, I heard Nathan spluttering, “The who… what… where? Wait, this was supposed to happen?”

Patiently, I explained, “You don’t get two feet of clay to stay upright all on it’s own. Take a closer look. See, there’s metal rod attached to the base that runs inside the entire sculpt.”

“Okay, yeah I see that,” Nathan responded, still sounding a bit shocked.

“Well, that has to come out before I put the piece in the kiln for one thing. For another, I have to start hollowing out the entire piece.”

“Hollowing it out?”Nathan repeated, this time aloud for Brian’s benefit.

“That’s right, like this,” I gently held the one half that had come off the main piece into one hand, while I grabbed a tool from nearby in the other. From there I proceeded to scrape out some of the interior of the piece I was holding. 

Remembering to speak out loud, I continued, “Now, I’m going to remove just enough clay so that the remaining shell is just under an inch thick all around. Then I’m going to do the same to the other half that’s still on the armature. This it to keep it from cracking when it goes into the kiln. I’m also going to poke a bunch of 1/2 in deep holes to also prevent cracking.”

Naturally, I did as I promised, allowing both Nathan and Brian to see what I meant. Then I did the same to the other half. When both were nicely hollowed out and pricked, I began scouring the edges of both halves where the wire had cut them, and then brushed the edges with a water. “Since this is a water-based clay, this will allow me to put them back together,” I explained.

“But what about the seams where the two halves meet?” came Nathan’s voice out of our mouth.

“I was wondering the same thing,” added Brian, who had been watching the entire process intently.


I’ll add more clay and smooth it all out, and then rework it into the rest of the design,” I told them. 

An hour later, the piece was whole again, without the slightest hint that it had been cleaved in two. 

“So now you put it in the kiln?” Nathan asked out loud.

“Yes, but we’re going to use a low heat to dry it out. The process is called ‘candling’. Then once the clay is really good and dry, we’ll start the firing schedule,” I replied.

“The what?” Nathan asked out loud again.

I winced inwardly. Obviously, neither of them had any clue how long this was going to take. Plus, I was starting to get worried about my physical form back at the hospital. The three of us really needed to talk things out before anything else could happen.

TO BE CONTINUED…

by

The Artist – August 2009 Part VII

I think my heart skipped a beat at that moment. Which is a good thing, because it probably kept me from trying to yell “WHAT?” with my mouth still wired shut.

Thinking back, I must’ve screamed it mentally because Nathan’s hands were on my shoulders keeping me down ever so gently. Still I could feel the tension in his arms. Brian and Jack were also crowding around me now, both of them talking at once. Dr. Jack was scolding Nathan, while Brian was offering a platitude of reassurances that nothing was going to happen unless I gave the okay.

Meanwhile my mind was in a whirl. I had just gotten used to the idea of what Nathan was and that he was supposedly one of the good guys. Which a part of me desperately wanted to believe. I mean, he had rescued me and Brian all those years ago at a cost to himself. Plus, he’d created that link between me and him that allowed me to use his voice to communicate. Still… the idea of him pulling a Christopher Lee on me was not exactly high on my list of things I wanted to try anytime soon.

While Brian and Dr. Jack tried talking over each other, Nathan decided to talk to me ‘privately’ through our mental link.

“Sorry, I didn’t know everyone was going to fly off the handle this badly,” he said gently inside my head. “Now, as I was trying to explain, when I bite someone I can see into their minds. However, there is a second type of bite I can use where I put some of myself into the other person. When I do this, the bond that’s created is much stronger than what we have now. I can, if I so choose, control a person quite a bit. Mind you, I’m very reluctant to do that. I don’t like the idea of taking someone’s free will away, unless it’s a major intervention so to speak. However, what very few know is that there’s a bit of two-way street effect.“


“How do you mean?” I asked.

“I can feel that other person in me at the same time. But since I created the bond, that means I’m the one who is in control. Unfortunately, I can’t take it back. Once made the bond seems to be permanent, until the person moves on from this life. However, I can ‘shut the door’ so the connection is turned off and neither me nor the other person can sense or hear the other,” he explained.

“I think I see what you’re saying,” I told him. “You’re offering to open the door so I can step inside you and have the use of your body so to speak…”

“Up to a point,” he corrected.

I nodded ever so slightly. “And when the piece is done…”


“I’ll close the door and you’ll be back in your own body, and you won’t feel or sense me anymore,” he finished.

I thought about it for a few moments.  I really wanted to finish the piece, it was for my mom after all. She’d sacrificed so much for me over the years and had been my biggest supporter when it came to my art. And… I trusted Nathan. I know, it sounds weird after being terrified by him for all these years, but now that I knew the truth, I wanted to take the chance. If it meant getting to finish my work in days instead of months or even years… I had to grab it. Especially if there was a chance that even after I recovered from my injuries, I might not have he dexterity and ability to handle the clay as I used to.  This might be my last chance to create the best piece I was ever going to make.

Still, there was one final issue I wanted to clarify with him first. “Um… this bite, is it going to hurt?”


Nathan smiled and shook his head and said aloud so the other two could hear.  “Absolutely not. You won’t feel a thing, I promise.”

“Then let’s do it!” I replied.

Keeping a reassuring hand on my arm, Nathan proceeded to tell the other two what we’d discussed, along with my decision.

As he did so, I noticed a funny kind of wetness on the arm where his hand was resting. There was a warmth to it and the area tingled for a few seconds.

“Um… Nathan?”

“It’s done,” he said aloud and released my arm. As he did so, I caught a brief glimpse of a mouth with two needle-like teeth in the palm of the hand that had been touching me. As my eyes widened, I saw the mouth close while the skin around it rippled. In the blink of an eye, it was gone and I found myself staring at a normal looking hand.

“What now?” I asked mentally.

“Lie back and give it a few minutes,” Nathan replied aloud, for the benefit of Dr. Jack and Brian.

I did so, but the seconds seemed to tick on forever as I kept waiting for something to happen. Some change, my vision to blur or feel warm inside… but I just felt the same as before. After 10 minutes I was getting tired of the looks on Brian and Dr. Jack’s faces as they kept staring at me and then Nathan.

Finally, I closed my eyes… only…. I was still seeing them. Only instead of looking up at them, I was staring across my bed at them.

I opened my own eyes again and saw them still looking down at me, with grave expressions. But when I turned my eyes to Nathan I saw him waggle his eyebrows at me. “What did you think of the view?” he asked after a moment.

While I couldn’t open my mouth I could pull the sides of it into a semi-smile.

Jack and Brian both gave me looks of relief. I heard one of them mutter, “Thank God,” under their breath. Only, I think I heard it with both my ears and Nathan’s. This was going to take a little getting used to, I could tell already.

Just then, Nathan reached down below my bed and pulled out a bag of clay. Then he brought a small table over and placed the clay on it and said, “Shall we try the hands a bit. You’ll need to close your eyes, otherwise you might get multiple angles which could prove disconcerting.”

He had thought of everything.

“Yes, please,” I replied through our link and did as I was told.

As I closed them, I could smell the familiar scent of the clay through his nostrils. God, how I had missed that odor. It had become so common in my life, I hadn’t really realized how it had become such a part of my world.

“Okay, my hands are yours, let’s see you work with it,” Nathan told me.

I won’t lie and say that I wasn’t nervous. It took me several tries to build up the courage to use his hands but once those fingers touched the clay my instincts took over. It wasn’t the best quality, or at least the kind of clay I was used to. It was a bit harder than I liked, but his hands were strong and were able to manipulate it like my own never could. But I understood, he had done that on purpose. He wanted me to get used to what these hands could do. And for the next hour I worked and molded and found my touch with those hands. They belonged to him, but the skill and delicate touch were all me.

I could hear Nathan’s thoughts in the back of ‘our’ mind as he marveled at my manipulation of the substance. He even flat out said at one point, “It’s so cool and yet silky in it’s own way…” I told him he hadn’t seen anything yet. By the time we were finished, we were both satisfied with the experiment. So were Jack and Brian who had been watching the whole time.

I felt myself back in my own body again and opened my eyes. Obviously, Nathan had partially ‘closed the door’ between us, because I wasn’t having double-vision so to speak. Yet I could still sense the link between us.

“So what now?” Brian asked.

That was a good question.

I looked to Nathan who looked at me and said, “You’re call.”

“Can we go to my studio tonight and start work?” 


He bowed, “Your wish is my command.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

by

The Artist – August 2009 Part VI

When I woke up, it was evening again. Apparently, I’d slept through the entire day – aside from being woken up to be given medicines or have my temperature taken. Around seven Dr. Jack, Brian and Nathan came into my room and closed the door behind them. That was when I knew something big was up. Especially with the looks on both Brian and Jack’s faces. The two of them kept glancing uneasily at Nathan, which started making me nervous about him all over again.

Something in my eyes must’ve shown because Nathan paused as he started to sit down next to my bed again. Frowning, he looked from me to the other two and back. Finally he said, “Great, now I know how you two guys felt when I was in mental contact with her, this morning. Now is anyone going to let me in on the secret or are we going to play charades? Which would be really tough on her, considering her condition.”

I made a little noise to get his attention and then began inhaling deeply to get my point across.

“Oh, right,” Nathan nodded and once more one of his hands misted allowing me to breath it in and communicate more freely.

“Why are they staring at you so anxiously?” I asked mentally, trying to keep my own anxiety in check.

Nathan gave the other two a look and turned back to me. “Because, I told them what I have in mind to help you finish your art piece in time for the exhibition,” he said gently. “However, neither of them are all that sure you’re going to like my proposal, or at least what it involves.”

While I couldn’t move my jaw without severe pain, I had no problem raising a questioning eyebrow at him. Finally I thought, “Care to elaborate?”

He thought for a moment before saying, “Depends. Do you want the full-scale slideshow presentation or the bottom line version?”

“Bottom line, please,” was my reply.

“I’m going to give you access to my eyes and control of my hands,” Nathan answered.

“Come again?” I asked mentally.

Leaning forward he explained. “As you said yesterday, I don’t have the skills to manipulate the clay and do what’s needed to get your sculpture ready.  But you do. You know how the clay should feel and how to handle the tools and whatnot. However, you can’t leave this bed, at least not physically. But,  what if I took you with me to the studio ‘mentally’ so to speak?”

I admit I was both puzzled and intrigued. “Do you mean like how we’re communicating right now? Through this bond you made?”

“It will be something a bit stronger,” he replied and leaned forward. “You’d actually be able to see through my eyes and even feel whatever I touch or manipulate with my hands.”

For a moment I was tempted, then shook my head. “You still wouldn’t know how to manipulate the clay or the tools…” I began.

“But you would if I let you control my hands,” he cut in patiently. “Which is what I plan to do. Once we were in the studio I’d let you take over, up to a point. I’d get everything ready, under your guidance, but when it came time to actually work on the sculpture you’d be in charge. I’d be sort of in the background watching and experiencing what you do.”

It sounded insane, yet at the same time I was intrigued. Then a thought hit. “What about my body back here? What will be happening to it?” 

“You’d basically be asleep,” Nathan assured me. “You’d still be breathing and everything, It would just be your conscious self would be awake seeing and feeling through me.”

I had to admit it sounded like a very good idea. Yet I couldn’t stop glancing over at Brian and Jack, who were still looking uneasy, even worried.

They must’ve caught me staring at them because Brian finally spoke up. “Before anyone gets too excited, Nathan you might want to tell her what has to happen for this little experiment to take place.”

Immediately, my heart sank. For Brian to look this worried, it had to be something bad. Turning my gaze to Nathan I thought, “Is there something you haven’t brought up yet?”


Without blinking my would-be savior shifted uncomfortably and then glared at the other two. For a second he put me in mind of the cartoon mouse “The Brain” shooting a dirty look at his partner “Pinky”. A silent exchange of heated gestures passed between the three of them, before Nathan finally turned back to me and smiled sheepishly. “As a matter of fact, yes. Yes, there is…”

“And what is it?” Even without being able to move my mouth, I managed to put an pointed edge to the question.

“To make this happen, I’ll need to bite you,” he winced.

TO BE CONTINUED…

by

“The Artist” – August 2009 Part – V

*A quick note from one of the authors: Sorry for the delay in getting this part uploaded, but both WordPress and Blogger have been making changes to their systems lately and that threw me for a while. I’m still having trouble with Blogger, which hosts the sister-site to this blog, so this installment is only appearing here. Hope to keep things more regular in the future as this story has grown much larger life than I’d originally anticipated. But the payoff will be well worth it I think. I love exploring some of the new ways of using Nathan’s abilities. So without further ado, let us continue the story…”

 

After a few seconds, Nathan came back with Dr. Jack. If I could have, I would’ve been grinning from ear to ear. Yet somehow he sensed the change in my attitude towards him. For one thing he smiled, then came over and pulled up a chair next to my bed. My mind raced with questions, especially one… but then I remembered I couldn’t speak or use my hands.

He must’ve seen something in my eyes, because he frowned and asked softly, “Is my being so close a problem?”

Forgetting myself I started to shake my head a little too vigorously, which caused me to let out a groan of pain.

Nathan reached out a hand and touched my brow and said, “Easy. Listen, I can tell you want to say something important. And I think I know a way to help, but I’m going to need you to trust me. Can you do that?”

I managed a little “Uh-huh…” noise in my throat.

Green_Mist_by_Devvyn

“Good,” he replied gently and held up a hand. A moment later, a greenish mist began emanating from his sleeve. Before I knew it, I couldn’t see his hand anymore, only the mist, only now I could also detect little flashes of blue in the miasma. “If you breathe this in, it will allow us to make a mental connection between us. I won’t be able to read your mind, but I’ll be able to get impressions of what you want to say and I can act as your voice. Are you all right with that?”

This time I gave him several muffled but eager “Uh-huhs.”

“Okay,” he nodded and brought the sleeve with the mist closer to my face. “Now, just breathe normally, there’s no need to inhale deeply.”

For the record, I really tried to do as he instructed. But I was so eager to try to communicate with everyone I wound up doing an impression of a junkie with couple of rolled up twenties stuffed up my nose.

Nathan pulled his arm back and stared at the now empty cuff  muttering, “I’m going to need that hand back eventually.”

I started to mentally apologize when suddenly I heard my thoughts come out of his mouth. “Sorry about that. I hope I didn’t… Oh my God you’re talking in my voice!”

Nathan gave me an embarrassed grin.  “I hope you don’t mind, I just thought it would be easier to do things this way so these two would know who’s saying what.”

Glancing over at Brian and Dr. Jack I could see they were both staring at us in surprise.

After a moment Brian said, “I had no idea you could do that, Nathan.”

psychic-connection

“It’s a little something Otto figured out some years ago on one of our expeditions to another Para-Earth,” my hero explained shyly. “We already knew I could help pacify a being who inhaled my mist form, by making our intentions known that we weren’t a threat. But he thought I could take it a little farther if I put a little more of myself into the mist to establish a rapport so to speak. Mind you it only works with beings whose minds are similar enough to ours in thought for me to understand what they want to say. Believe me, it doesn’t always work, but I knew it would in this case.”

He turned back to me then and asked, “Are you okay? Or is this too weird?”

Taking a deep breath, I shook my head slightly and thought, “No. In fact it’s more than I hoped for.” Admittedly seeing and hearing my thoughts coming out of his mouth, was kind of weird, but not so much that I didn’t want him to break our connection. With this new method of communication available to me, I told them everything that had been troubling me. They listened patiently and gave me all the assurances they could. But when I told them about the unfinished sculpture of my grandfather back in my studio and how important it was to me, they fell silent.

I think a full minute passed before Nathan broke the silence. “Even if we brought the piece here, there’s no way you could work on it. Not with your hands in their current state.”

I shook my head sadly.

He took a deep breath and looked down at his own. He had two again which surprised the rest of us.

Glancing up he noticed the rest of us staring and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, felt weird just having one, so I shaved a pound or two from other areas and grew a new one.” Then he turned to me and asked, “Here’s a thought. With our connection, would I be able to finish the piece under your guidance?”

“Have you ever worked with clay before?”

“No, but I’m a fast learner,” he replied.

I sank into my pillow a little more and thought about it. After a few moments, I shook my head ever so slightly. Whenever I worked in clay there was a connection between me and my creation. I knew how the clay should feel as I smoothed and shaped it. There was no way I could convey these concepts and techniques by simply instructing him.

Nathan must’ve ‘heard’ my thoughts because he began nodding his head. “Yeah, I didn’t about that. You and the clay kind of become one when you’re working with it.” Then he stood up. “Let me give it some thought. I think there might be a way to help. Okay?”

I carefully nodded. And that’s where we left things. He came back the next evening with the most unbelievable suggestion I’d ever heard.

TO BE CONTINUED…

 

 

 

 

 

by

The Artist – August 2009 Part III

Of course the accident happened shortly after that and I wound up in the hospital. And as you know I received dozens of visitors who constantly reassured me that everything would be all right. Such words and sentiments were always welcome and helped make the day pass more easily.

But night-time was another matter. Everything would be quiet, aside from the staff making their rounds. Occasionally one would wake me up to draw blood or give me my medications, but for the most part I was on my own with only my thoughts for company. That’s when dealing with my situation became much harder.

That’s when all those little fears we keep hidden away come out to plague us. And believe me I had a lot of them which kept me company for hour after hour. Most of them involved not being able to use my hands to sculpt. I won’t tell you how many times I wound up crying myself to sleep, but it happened a lot. I tried to keep quiet about it (which should have been easy with my mouth wired shut), but one person found out.

I woke one morning to someone gently dabbing the sides of my eyes with handkerchief. It was Brian. Dr. Jack Tyler, my physician and our mutual friend, had allowed him in before visiting hours had officially begun. Jack had noticed the tear soaked tissues before and had tried to draw me. I would’ve have loved to have told him what was wrong, but first and foremost he was my doctor. A doctor in frequent demand so we kept getting interrupted. After a while I just stopped trying.

Luckily, Jack is someone who doesn’t give up easily, especially when you’re his patient as well as his friend. So he’d gone out of his way to get Brian here to make sure they found out what was troubling me. By this time I was able to make some sounds, but understanding me was not easy. Yet somehow we managed.

 As it turned out, both of them suspected I was worried about my works in progress back at the studio. With this in mind, Brian had gone to check on things for me. He even took photos on his phone and shared them with me.

While I was relieved to see everything was still untouched, a part of me felt guilty at the same time. Seeing my kiln just sitting there waiting to be filled, or my tools just hanging on their hooks, they it all looked so lonely. Then I saw the piece of my grandfather, still wrapped in the plastic just as I’d left it. That’s when the tears began to flow.

It took Jack and Brian some time, but they managed to understand to get the full story out of me.

The date of the exhibition, which was still going to happen, was also my mother’s birthday that she shared with her father. It would have been his 108th. I had secretly been planning to have his sculpture to be the centerpiece of the show, as well as a gift to both my mom and his memory.

Once they understood, Brian exchanged a look with Jack who nodded. Then he turned back to me and said, “Don’t worry, it’s going to be all right. Just trust me.”

In spite of the fact that I had absolutely no idea what they had planned, something about Brian’s tone was extremely reassuring.  After that, they talked about their families and kept me amused for another half an hour. By then I was feeling tired again and managed to drift off without the help of medication for a change.

The rest of the day passed as all the others had, medications, smoothie meals, and television. There were a couple of more visitors, but it’s what the night brought that I really want to talk about. Or rather, who it brought.

I’d been listening to an audiobook with my eyes closed, so I never heard my visitors arrive. It wasn’t until Brian gently tapped my shoulder that I realized anyone had come. Looking up I saw him and Jack smiling down at me. Then from behind them Nathan popped his head out and waved at me.

Unable to help myself, I shuddered.

TO BE CONTINUED…

by

The Artist – August 2009 Part II

The piece in question was a full-bodied statue of my mom’s father who had passed away the year before at the age of 107. And believe me the man had led an impressive life having served not only in WWI but also WWII. Now some of you who know me might be thinking ‘Wait, I know you’re like only 29. So just how old was he when your mom was born?’ Well my mom was from his second marriage in 1948. My grandmother was younger than him and gave birth to my mom seven years later.

Now, getting back to the sculpture, when I say full-bodied I don’t mean it was man-sized. It was only  between 18″ and 24″ inches in height. I had thought about doing a bust, but she had always been proud of the fact that he had served in both world wars. But it was his service in World War I that she had always impressed her the most. Seeing photos of him in his uniform back then, so young and full of hope and purpose, had really made her see him in a different light. 

I know he saw a lot back in the Great War, as they originally called it, but what always impressed me the most about him was the fact that he enlisted again when the Second World War began. He once told us that part of the reason he did was because he knew a lot of young men who weren’t prepared for what they might face. He himself had barely been sixteen when he’d enlisted, lying about his age to be accepted at the recruiting office. And as I said, he saw a lot. He was wounded more than once too and was involved in some of the more famous and fiercest battles including the Hundred Day Offensive.

Looking back, I think that may have actually been the real reason why I chose to put him in his first uniform. Seeing photos of that fresh-faced innocent who would face horrors time and again, and still be willing to help others face new ones, really helped me understand the man I knew and loved.

Anyway, having a specific image in mind I got work in my studio and began the project.

I was well into the sculpt, having already gotten the shape and pose just right, when a prominent gallery wanted to showcase my work. The timing could not have been better. The date set for the opening would be just perfect to unveil my grandfather’s likeness before my mother, our friends, and so many others. Needless to say I went back to the piece with even more enthusiasm. I was calling upon every technique I could think of get everything just right and it was paying off.

Hour by hour, I could see my grandfather’s spirit taking shape in the piece. I was so pleased that I didn’t care if I never made anything as close to perfect as it. But there was still a lot to do when I left my studio that afternoon. As much as I wanted to keep working, I had to get downtown and meet with a gallery owner (not the one who was going to hold the exhibition). I remember putting the plastic over my work in progress to keep it moist, silently promising I’d be back soon. Only I wasn’t.

In fact it would be weeks, and merely days before the exhibit, before I’d step foot inside that studio again… at least physically.

TO BE CONTINUED…

by

The Artist – August 2009

When I was a child I thought of angels as beings with huge white wings and cherubic faces. But now I know they come in many different shapes and sizes. I met a great many of them back in the hospital, for which I am forever grateful. But there is one in particular, who I wish to talk about right now. He is someone I’ve known almost all my life, who left me deeply frightened because I saw him drinking the blood of another like a fiend from an old Hammer Horror movie.

Admittedly, the one he took the blood from had kidnapped me along with my friend Brian, we were both children at the time, but seeing your rescuer seemingly turn from angel to an avenging demon left me rattled for many years after.

I hadn’t understood back then that Nathan had simply come to save us and had seen things inside that warehouse that neither Brian nor I had. I still don’t know all that he saw, but I do remember his clothing looking torn as if he’d been through hell before reaching us and our captor. There was no blood on him at the time, but I didn’t know his body could absorb blood from his clothing. But even that wasn’t enough. I know now that he had lost a fair amount of blood just trying to reach us.

However, that’s not something I want to talk about right now. Yes, I can talk properly again. My jaw is finally healed. I can even use my own hands again, even if they don’t quite feel the same.

I keep fearing that they may have lost some of their dexterity from before the accident. But that doesn’t seem be the case. I’m still able to do my art and everyone tells me I’m as good as before, possibly even better. Yet, it doesn’t quite feel the same. Maybe because the clay feels different to me these days, although I think that’s partly thanks to Nathan. Perhaps he’s helped me in more ways than even he realizes. However, I’m getting ahead of myself.

I don’t remember much from the accident, it all happened so fast. Hell, there wasn’t any warning like the sound of tire trying to screech to a halt, just an impact and my world flipped… and pain. That’s all I can remember. When I fully regained consciousness I was in a hospital, my hands in bandages and unable to move my jaw even though I wanted to scream. The sight of my hands all wrapped up like that, even before anyone said anything I just knew it was bad… REALLY BAD! They were my livelihood, my ‘special voice’, the things that created things I couldn’t always find the words to say to express how I felt. To have them silenced along with my actual voice, was more of an agony than the pain I was already in.

I remember trying to ask what happened, over and over again, but with my jaws wired shut I didn’t know how to make myself understood. Everyone kept telling me to blink once for ‘yes’ and twice for ‘no’ then began asking me simple questions, but they took so long to get to what I wanted to know. I almost wished they’d never got to that point.

I’d been hit by a drunk driver, T-boned to be exact. His SUV had got me just behind the driver’s door, otherwise I might not be here. But the impact had been strong enough to send my little bug rolling and into a pole. Needless to say, he’d walked away without a scratch in more ways than one. The bastard was rich and got off with house-probation, although he was made to pay for my medical expenses. Not so much by the court but by ‘someone’ else as I later found out. But more about that later. The jury also hit him with pain and suffering pretty heavily, but his lawyers were pretty slick and seemed to be swaying the judge to their way of thinking. Then all of a sudden the man  called for an adjournment for lunch, even though it was only 10:30 in the morning. When the court resumed he slammed the guy with the full amount the jury had recommended, and even tacked on a few more expenses for my attorneys and loss of income.

Naturally, the guy tried to appeal it. But he lost again… twice. After that he suddenly stopped trying and just paid up. How did this happen? The same way I got saved all those years ago from the creeps who kidnapped me and Brian. And for that I will always be grateful, but not nearly as much as for what he did when it came to the piece I’d been working on at the time of the accident. The piece that meant more to me than any other…

TO BE CONTINUED…