Insomniacs Anonymous

So this post doesn't have any pictures... yet, but there may be some illustrations later. This is just a short comedic story I was able to complete in my spare time:) hopefully it's as entertaining as I think it is...

“Insomniacs Anonymous”

“Hi, I’m Steve.”
“Hi Steve.”
“And I’ve been an insomniac for about ten years.”
The wave of compassionate looks was slightly disconcerting as he took his seat, and the next poor soul stood to state his name and reason for being here. He really didn’t know why he was at this IA meeting (Insomniacs Anonymous); as if discussing your stress levels and reasons for staying awake ever helped anyone. In fact, he was fairly certain that he was sleeping even less because of this torture. It had been weeks since he’d been able to sleep for more than a few minutes. The other day he had finally managed to fall asleep at the respectable time of 8:30, had a dream even, and woke up very proud of his accomplishment until he looked at the clock which showed 8:45. His instructor, Candy, enthusiastically called this “progress”. He called it “pathetic.” But, he still had to be there. They all had to be there.
They said it was because somebody loved them, but in the back recesses of his mind, Steve sometimes wondered if this was just some cruel joke the world was playing. Perhaps it was all a conspiracy; everything always seemed to end up being connected to some form of espionage or some wacko with a sign. This he could understand. Everyone needed their own form of excitement he supposed. Perhaps this was why his wife left him; for his lack of adventure. He remembered vaguely of a fight concerning his lack of emotion, but one wouldn’t ditch a commitment for something so trivial, would they?
This was why he didn’t sleep. Once he let himself think, one thought would just lead to another, and another, until he was overwhelmed with boundless questions about his own life, and then life in general. He realized this, and had an effective coping mechanism to be able to gain at least a few hours of rest; just don’t think. Take everyday as it comes, and don’t think too much about the past or the future. Of course, this all went through the window once the instructor laid out the “lesson plan”, if you will, which often included “speaking our thoughts” and answering questions like “so what makes you lie awake in the middle of the night? It ok to be honest, this is a judgement free zone.” True, but most likely because most everyone here are incoherent walking zombies.
As far as Steve was concerned, his sleep patterns were of no concern to this bright eyed communist... okay, they most likely specified that in the contract. But let’s be honest, when you sign on the dotted line saying that you have “read and agreed to the terms and conditions”, you don’t really know what was “stated above”, but when a belligerent wife is threatening divorce papers, you really don’t care and sign any way despite your lack of commitment. Of course they don’t show you the extra fine print stating that you’re committing to a whole year through which your once beloved sends you the papers anyway.
He still came to the arduous meetings though, but it wasn’t for the therapy; it was for a girl. She was pretty much the only one he’d seen who could pull off the dark circles under her eyes look and still retain a unique beauty. She was also quiet, which he was able to appreciate, especially when Candy would start talking in her chipper voice about wellness, sleep, and other nonsense like that. It was aggravatingly clear that the bright eyed instructor was one of the “rested”.
Many times he had tried to score a seat next to Sarah, but the setup of assigned chairs always managed to place him in the farthest corner from her. The forces had smiled on him today though, as he somehow ended up just one seat away from his newfound interest.
The only problem was that he was still one seat away.
The gentleman in between them was an older fellow who was constantly nodding his head, fighting sleep instead of inviting it. It was “Mixer Monday”, where another therapy group would combine with their own to supposedly increase effectiveness. Ironically, the other group today was the “NA” group (“Narcoleptics Anonymous”). The instructor had staggered the group to where the sleep deprived had two comatose sleepers flanking each side; hence his chances at sitting next to Sarah were nixed.
Steve didn’t understand this concept at all and looked on in annoyance at the drooling man beside him as a deep rumble began to emanate deep within his throat with every breath. He thought he would envy these people who could drift in and out of dreams on a whim, but as he looked from narcoleptic to narcoleptic, he was suddenly grateful for his “problem”. At least he didn’t have to worry about collapsing in the middle of a department store and looking like a complete moron; at least he could function perfectly well in society... for the most part. For this reason, you’d expect he would feel pity toward the man next to him, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling that even though he could function better, the man was still taunting him with every snore. Perhaps he was annoyed simply for the fact that the sleeping giant was allowed to sit next Sarah, when he couldn’t. Candy’s voice rang out, interrupting Steve’s thoughts, and arousing Mr. Sandman with a start.
“Alright, now that we know each other, and why each of us is here today,” as if that weren’t obvious, “we’re going to start our first exercise that will eventually lead toward a better and more rested or, for our guests, attentive lifestyle.” The instructor paused and smiled in excitement.
This can’t be good. It never was.
“I want everyone to grab a partner from the opposite group, with whom you will then conduct a short session of providing each other with suggestions on how the other is able to sleep or not sleep. This will be very fun and educational, and I’m very excited to try it since it is one my own exercise ideas. So, without further ado, start mingling!" Gramps turned toward Steve first (which he thought was an odd first reaction when the old man could’ve been with Sarah), and he shrugged when the man asked him if he wanted to be partners saying “sure, why not,” even though he could think of a million reasons why not.
The man’s name was Donald, he was a retired veterinarian who had never owned an animal in his life, but had saved many lives in his career, and bla bla bla, bla... well, then again, bla bla... It was amazing how much Steve could tune out as he focussed in on Sarah sitting directly behind Donald. She looked wonderfully tired at the moment, and he smiled at how uninterested she looked to be towards her partner (who was aggravatingly handsome for his age). Donald didn’t suspect a thing as he continued to pour out his life story. It was a long process of Steve staring at Sarah while catching on to only tid bits of his partner’s long winded speech. Something about “lonely life”, “the war effort”, and him having his fair share of “quack scientists”. These all seemed to be basic conversation topics that Steve was able to not listen to. It was when he heard his mother’s name that Steve’s attention snapped back to Donald.
“I’m sorry, what was that you said?”
“I was just saying how, even though I’ve been a lonely old coot with sleep problems for a while now, in all my years, I did manage to find one thing that was able to keep me awake- all night in fact- and her name was Helen Jackson, and man was she a spunky little thing back in the day... what’s the matter son, you look a little disturbed.”
“My last name is Jackson.”
Donald didn’t look like he saw the point.
“My mother’s name was Helen.”
Realization started to flicker within his eyes, and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
“Are you saying you slept with my mother?”
At this, Donald opened his mouth as if he were going to explain, but just before the first syllable left his mouth, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he was out. Steve stared at him incredulously for a while, not sure what to think. What a cop out, he thought as he sat back in his chair and turning so that he wouldn’t have to look at his disgusting partner anymore, and get a better view of Sarah at the same time. He was disappointed by the view when he saw her partner passed out, and Sarah herself, gone. He was about to go and try to find out where she went, when he heard a loud scream.
After that, everything seemed to turn into chaos.
The scream had come from the narcoleptic lady who had been on his right and kept going until she fainted- or fell asleep, it was hard to tell- and collapsed on the ground. This led to a domino effect among the other narcoleptics as almost all of them fell at the same time. One of my fellow insomniatic friends started whooping and running around like a madman. Someone else had apparently cut off his hand in response to the suggestion that intense pain would definitely keep them awake (it was an attempt at a joke, but that quickly became besides the point). Steve didn’t know what to think, and indeed, could do nothing but stand and watch.
The lights had started to flicker, people began disappearing, and the air conditioner had apparently gained the power of a tornado as items started flying in the air. He thought he saw his ex wife for a moment, and even his mother at one point. Above all the screaming, the yelling, and the snoring (from Donald, who had not stirred once despite the tumultuous environment), gleeful laughter was heard to erupt out of Candy’s mouth in increasing hysteria. What was happening?
And then there was Sarah, standing in the middle of the room and looking at him.
Nothing mattered anymore. Those dark eyes had his complete attention. Chairs flew, blood was all over the floor, and nothing made sense, but he started walking in her direction with determination. A narcoleptic collapsed on him, he pushed her out of the way. A table was knocked over in front of him, he stepped calmly over it. He managed to walk without obstruction or stumble and was soon holding her close. She looked up at him expectantly, and he said the first thing that came to his mind.
“My friend over there told me a great idea on how to spend your time staying awake, and I think we should try it out.” She smiled, leaned toward him, and...
...everything went black.
Steve sat up from his chair with a start. He was in his apartment, alone, and still very tired. He sighed when he looked at the glowing numbers on the digital clock.
It was only 8:45.

End of the World?

So I realize that I have failed you all in this whole "I will actually keep up with a blog this time" resolution. I have not kept up with it all, but to be fair, it's senior year- and no, it's not the easiest year of high school; that was a terrible lie I had once believed long ago, but nevermore as I have remained busy since. But we are one step ahead of the game since I have decided to not delete the entire blog to start again (we all know by now, it would only continue to be an eternal circle of procrastination); thus, we will continue on, and though posts may at times be few and far between, they will be posted, and we'll start today- at what many assumed would be the end of the world.

To get in the spirit of things, I painted a scene depicting a possibility of what things might look like in the end, but you must understand that I don't normally think of painting art which resembles doom and destruction. My intended purpose was to enter it into a contest where this fateful day was the theme. I was blindsided, however, when said contest required an "upgraded membership" in order to submit (aka, money). So, now I have this lovely painting with no purpose... until I remembered my long forgotten blog, and thought, well here is a purpose. So, this is not a scene from a book, but it is an illustration of a thought and the product of a misconception; until next post (when and what: none can say)

Mara Daughter of the Nile

"Come, perfume your mouth with the figs and grapes she has brought you... a few minutes later she was hungrily eating a fig and mourning the skimpiness of Egyptian breakfasts."

As per request, I have read and drawn a couple pictures inspired by the book "Mara Daughter of the Nile" by Eloise Jarvis McGraw. I didn't know what to expect when I read the plot line, but I was not disappointed. 

The tale is set in Bible times in the land of Egypt and focuses upon a sly slave girl named Mara. She'd been passed on from one awful master to the next, wishing meanwhile of a better life and attempting various rebellious acts instead of the quiet submissive life of a slave. One day, her antics are noticed and she is purchased by a new master who causes her life of folding shentis completely around, and she soon finds herself on her way to be the royal interpreter of a Babylonian princess in order to spy (on behalf of Pharaoh Hatshetsup) in on conversations in the presence of king Thutmose. As one thing leads to another, Mara soon finds herself serving two completely politically opposite masters, and tries desperately to equally serve each one. Things also become complicated when she finds herself falling in love with one.

The story was intriguing and, contrary to my assumptions, held my attention throughout. With the time it took to read the book, and schedule juggling underway, I apologize for the lack of pictures. I had wished to sketch out one of the landscapes described, but found my time lacking. If a particular scene was wished, I will gladly oblige and add it. But for now, thank you for the suggestion and great read. 

"She was everywhere at once, snatching up the loaves and dusting them, soothing the apprentice with smiles and sympathy... only Sheftu, shaking with silent merriment, observed the good half dozen honey cakes that found their way into her sash instead of the basket."

"The silence was shattered as a chariot clattered into view... with a crack of his whip they lurched forward. For the next few minutes Mara had all she could do to keep her footing as they rattled along at a furious pace..." 

The Night Circus

["The finished clock is resplendent. At first glance, it is simply a clock, a rather large black clock with a white face and a silver pendulum... The changes are slow... the color changes in the face, shifts from white to grey, and then there are clouds that float across it... there is a silver dragon that curls around... books with actual paper pages that turn... At the center, where a cuckoo bird would live in a more traditional timepiece, is the juggler."]

-The Night Circus-

"The Circus is Coming..."

Deciding to begin with one of my favorites, some of you may recognize the reference to the bestseller "The Night Circus". This story is an amazing mixture of romance, intrigue, and suspense. It focuses on two characters chosen to compete in an abstract game instigated by two magicians. In the midst of their challenge lies a unique circus designed to attract audiences with it's fantastic oddities as well as provide an active playing field. My description is vague, but only because great books should not be ruined, and believe me, this is poetic literature that charms and captivates its audiences. 

There are so many descriptive and beautiful scenes, it was hard to choose, but I finally settled on these few...

["Bailey finds a gap in the side of one pof the tents... Then he sees the tag... The picture side shows a black-and-white etching of a child in a bed covered in fluffy pillows and a checkered quilt, not in a nursery but under a star-sprinkled night sky."]

-The Night Circus-

["He recalls what the tag said about openin things, wondering what could possibly be in  all of these jars... He picks up a frosted-glass mason jar and unscrews the silver metal lid... The scent that wafts from it is the unmistakable smell of the ocean, a bright summer day at the seashore..."]
-The Night Circus-

["The statue herself is still, but her hand is held out, and only then does Bailey notice the younge woman with a red scarf standing in front of her, offering the love letter-clad statue a single crimson rose."]

-The Night Circus-

They may not do the words justice and are a little hard to see, but that is what I have for now. Again, if there are any suggestions any would like to make, please feel free to comment. 

May it ever be a pleasure till the next read.

[Cloud Maze]

Just a Thought...

"Books Without Pictures"

Last year I had started what I thought would be my blog; the "one that would blow the audiences away". I had watched and read too many stories about those who had made their big break through the creation of an online publishing profile. That could be me, I thought. Yet, the curse of procrastination kicked in, I published two blogs, and promptly forgot about taking it up again for about a year. The fact was, was that I had no original thought to provide. No idea to set my profile apart. Yet, inspiration does occasionally arise, and with it, I found my answer. Thus, we will embark upon an illustrative journey into books without pictures. 

As is well known, there is a multitude of books of wonderful stories and descriptions without any pictures within their covers to match the words. The author may prefer it this way, wishing instead for the reader to use his imagination and decide what the scene looks like to him. If you are one who prefers your mind to decide the scene, then do not proceed to follow this blog or let me ruin your preconceived vision (as so many movies have done in the past). As I read throughout various books without pictures, I will sketch out specific scenes and post them with quotes and the origin. If there is a specific book you would like me to read and illustrate, or a specific scene, just let me know and I will be delighted to oblige. 

I hope this will prove to be as grand as I imagine it, and that procrastination will keep it's distance.

Farewell to the next and first book without pictures.