a light at thE end of a very long tunnel

I've managed to finish a rough 'sketch' of In the Gardens of Loveplay, my novel in the works. A brief introduction and the first two titled 'chapters' can be read here. A lot more is written than just this small portion, but much of it has been written out of turn (or order) and those parts wouldn't offer much more than uncontextualized snapshots. But I am posting my summary of chapter titles (subject to change, of course). I am also in the process of developing artwork for the project.

Anything you read within parenthesis are notes to myself, and not part of that portion's title.

Here is the Forward:

This is a story of Venice, but not the Venice you may have visited, or once lived, or dreamt of seeing. This is also a story of love. But what else would such a tale be about? It is a tale of conspiracies, jealousies, broken hearts and the binding of two souls, one to the other. Within these pages you will find a world strangely at peace, boats that float on air, and an angel in search of redemption.

"In the Gardens of Loveplay"

Introduction - What We Shall Find

1 - a Priori - A Glimpse of Heaven
2 - The Severing of Ties
3 - Conspiracy of Love
4 - For Love of a Good Wine

Interlude I - The Last Great War (Diary Excerpts, and Poem)

5 - The Confessional
6 - Early Summer
7 - Walking the Gardens
8 - Aldo I
9 - In the House of Her Sisters I
10 - In the House of the Winepresser
11 - In the House of the Gondolier I
12 - Summer
13 - Rome
14 - Aldo II
15 - Pia I

Interlude II - Leptus Magnus (Plus Poem "Dinner Among the Ruins")

16 - The Inn at Vesuvius
17 - Abandoning the Arbor
18 - Early Fall
19 - Pia II
20 - Dinner and a Kiss I
21 - Late Fall
22 - Aldo III
23 - In the House of the Gondolier II
24 - Winter I - Separate Tables
25 - Winter II - Similar Loves
26 - An Exchange of Gifts
27 - Lisbon
28 - Dinner and a Kiss II

Interlude III - The Dance  (A Poem in Four Parts)

29 - In the House of Her Sisters II
30 - In the House of the Gondolier III
31 - The Inn at Vesuvius
32 - Late Winter
33 -The Patron Saint of Lovers

Interlude IV - To Paris - Precursor to Spring

34 - Early Spring
35 - The Peregrination
36 - In the House of the Winepresser II
37 - Return to the Arbor
38 - The Lowering of Masks
39 - The Confessional II
40 - In the Garden of Loveplay  (Plus Poem)
41 - Walking the Garden II
42 - Dinner and  a Kiss III
43 - Aldo IV
44 - The Invitation (to marriage)
45 - Pia III

Interlude V - In the House of Her Sisters III  (Poem)

46 - Preparation and Separation
47 - In the House of the Gondolier III
48 - The Final Veil
49 - Carne Una
50 - There is But One Kiss  (Includes Poem)

Interlude VI - Carnivale

51 - The Floating Boats
52 - In the Gardens of Loveplay
53 - Till the Lanterns All Burned Down
54 - Subter Astralis Caelum

Interlude VII - Perfection in Romance (Includes Poem)

55 - Isabella

Epilogue - Selah

56 - Christien Vernay, from Father to Son
57 - Don't Dream It's Over

Everything is, for the most part, mapped out. There's still some reconciliation to be done, but those points will be minor. The greater task of plotting this eleven year-old monster out is, at long last, complete. Now begins the serious task of linking all the prose presently written with those portions which must fill in all the remaining gaps-- all the poetry is written, all that remains is prose. The artwork will take longer, but I only need a few key pieces to begin the process of publication.

As a side note, notice that there are nine sections including the Introduction and Epilogue. Nine is significant because it represents finality; the end of a matter, or the fulfillment or consummation of a matter. Interestingly enough (to me, at least) my arriving at this number, in this manner, was unintended. When I looked at the number of Interludes I saw seven, then wondered what the significance of nine would be adding the Introduction and Epilogue. The answer, I discovered, was both surprising and curiously apropos. 

None of these chapters (except one of the poems) will exceed ten pages of print, not including artwork, so right now I'm looking at between 350 and 500 pages.

all my hEroes are going to ground...

Jean "Moebius" Giraud: 1938-2012

This is the man who both fascinated and inspired me-- more than any other artist --to be myself in everything I drew; to develop my own style and vision.


Most of you won't even know him... that is, until I tell you one of his stories can be found in the early 1980's film Heavy Metal.

I first met Moebius in Heavy Metal Magazine with the adventures of John Difool in "The Incal," and later with his graphic novel, "The Airtight Garage." I have always admired his work; his visionary worlds and concepts. He took the simple stroke of pen and made it beautiful. I wanted to draw like... still want to draw like him. I want his portion; the one God gave him.

A poster he painted for environmental conservation is directly responsible for the main element of a short story wrote eleven years ago; a story that is growing into a full length novel.

He took the ordinary and made it extraordinary by asking, "what if I...?" He paid attention to detail without drawing every detail. He extracted the beauty from the banal, forcing the simple lines to show what world-weary eyes often miss. to recognize And that's all I've been trying to do my entire life. Sometimes I've found my visions to be on the same par if not caliber. But his is the standard to which I've always looked.

There are certainly other artist I admire... Maxfield Parrish for one, Michael Parks, for another. Picasso before cubism (specifically his Rose Period)... but I can't help but love the man who gave sight to many of my own personal visions.

May God grant him peace.

if ever i nEed a song to sing....

Not Another Minute (Without You)

Dear God
Where are you in my life?
Where am I? In the light?
Or deep in shadow? tell me now, Oh Lord
God
My heart is near to breaking
In the pains of my own making
Touch me now, Oh Lord
I can't take another minute without you

Dear God
Do you love me even still?
As when I was in your will?
Or was I ever? tell me now, Oh Lord
God
The emptiness is killing me
Like harps hung in the willow tree
Touch me now, Oh Lord
I won't last another moment without you

Touch me Lord
Fill me with your Holy Spirit
By the blood of your son,
Oh sweet Jesus, please be mine
Touch me Lord and let me know that I'm still loved
Wash me clean from all the sins I bear
Let me feel your presence everywhere
But especially, Lord, heal my soul

Dear God
Must I spend my lifetime weeping?
Pray my soul that you'll be keeping?
When my last breath is spent? tell me now, Oh Lord
God
I want to spend my whole life loving you
Free of guilt and shame~ just loving you
Touch me now, or when it pleases you
Restore my soul, I beg of you
Touch me now, Oh Lord
I can't take another minute...
No, not another minute without you


ELAshley
030512.031842.6

A song... in the vein of ...Roland Orzibal's Mad World ...dark and despairing. Or perhaps not so dark... something along the lines of Twila Paris or Michael W. Smith? I'm still working out the melody.


 

wednesday's child this friday morn...

"Mountains, Hills, and Mounds of Earth"

There were flowers strewn
O’er mountains, hills and mounds of dirt
Cov’ring over every hurt
Now gone. Cruelly hewn
And felt no more
Honeysuckle in the air
Sweet on winds run through your hair
As you lay lying there
To feel again no more

I cried a lover’s tears
O’er mountains, hills and mounds of earth
Counting all I thought it worth
Now gone. How it sears
This heart for evermore
Strains of birdsong in the air
Singing gaily and unaware
Of you, love, lying there
To feel again no more

Heaven weeps to know you’re gone
From my side, yet not for long
Each day will seem eternity
Until your face again I see

Sore despond I threw me down
O’er mountains, hills and mounds of clay
My every cry a dirg'ed lay
Swearing I would rather drown
That I might feel again no more
Honeysuckle in the air
Sweet on winds run through my hair
‘tis grief you see now standing there
a breath and cry away from where
You feel again no more


ELAshley
030212.104326.1
Revisions:
031212.013950.6

all my hEroes are going to ground

David Thomas "Davy" Jones
Dec 20, 1945  -  Feb 29, 2012

I spent much of the mid to late sixties in Spain, but I remember how delighted I was at just 9 years old to discover, upon returning to the states, that television in America did not feature endless reruns of Roger Ramjet, and the Adventures of Rocky & Bullwinkle. All of a sudden there were real Saturday morning cartoons like Johnny Quest, Scooby Doo, Here Comes the Grump, H.R. Puffinstuff and, of course, The Monkees.

I loved the show, loved their only movie Head, and even loved waxing nostalgic when MTV ran constant reruns way back when MTV was actually "Music Television." In that much simpler time, there were records on the back of cereal boxes; The Archies, Jackson 5, Josie & the Pussycats, Bobby Sherman, & The Monkees. I remember asking my mom to buy Honey Combs Cereal just to get the Monkees' Valleri. The quality was crap, but come on! Music on the back of a cereal box? What could be cooler than that to a 10-year old?

Years later, I remember an interview I saw with Davy Jones some years after the Monkees' reunion during which Davy spoke about how hard and lean the years were between the end of The Monkees and their reunion. He said, and I paraphrase, when you have money and fame, when you're on top of the world, everyone want to give you money. But when you're out of the limelight, you can't even get a bank loan; no one will give you anything, even if you really need it.

That bit of interview has stayed with me; mostly because it's a sad epitaph to our culture of celebrity.

In the end Davy Jones landed on his feet, and I love him for it. He leaves behind a wife and four daughters, and three band mates. His last performance was a solo gig on February 19th, in Oklahoma.

David Thomas "Davy" Jones

Just last August, when I was turning 51, Davy himself was quoted as saying, somewhat prophetically, "I used to be a heartthrob, now I'm a coronary." Oddly enough, he died on Leap Day. And, as Davy was himself a consummate joker, I feel free to add my own sad quip... He was kind enough to die on a day we won't have to think about more than once every four years. 

But that's not true. I'll remember him every time I listen to a Monkees CD, or watch (for the umpteenth time) the movie "Head," which I must say lives up to its billing in the film's intro... These guys were a class act, and never took themselves too seriously.



From the intro to Head:


"Ditty Diego - War Chant"
 [Listen]

Well? [Mike]
Are you kidding? [Groupie]
Hey now wait a minute! [Mike]

Hey hey we are the Monkees
You know we love to please
A manufactured image
With no philosophies

We hope you like our story
Although there isn't one
That is to say there's many
That way there is more fun

You told us you like action
And games of many kinds
You like to dance, we like to sing
So let's all lose our minds!

We know it doesn't matter,
Cause what you came to see
Is what we'd love to give you,
And give it one, two, three! 

But there may come three, two, one, two
Or jump from nine to five,
And when you see the end in sight
The beginning may arrive!

For those who look for meaning,
And form as they do facts,
We might tell you one thing
But we'd only take it back

Not back like in a box back
Not back like in a race,
Not back so we can keep it,
But back in time and space!

You say we're manufactured,
To that we all agree,
So make you choice and we'll rejoice
In never being free!

Hey hey we are the Monkees,
We've said it all before
The money's in we're made of tin
We're here to give you more!

The money's in we're made of tin
We're here to give you...

Goodbye, Davy. It was all in good fun. Thanks for all the memories, and may God grant you peace and rest, and comfort to family and friends, and fans worldwide.

Because you were such a big part of our lives growing up, we are all Monkees now.