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Oklainis Extract pg55-57Silence bursts. There is only the far sound of the squeaky door and of the cars travelling at the town-centre. The violin is at the neck of the violinist and the bow is on the strings. The fingers are placed and create the first chords
Calm replaces the silence... Magic escapes from the bow's friction on the strings; the first chord is launched, slowly, giving the tone to the music, to the atmosphere which creates under our eyes, under our ears I only can listen to, I only can be amazed by this starting lyric melody. It reverbs on the stone walls, giving them some color, giving them life, diffusing some lives and sprinkling hope. The music intensifies in the seconds which seems to be infinite, eternals. The pure-hearted artist's fingers glide and vibrate on the strings. All is beauty, marvel and enchantment. Nothing can perturb this moment. The bad guys stay there, listening to these magical, prodigious and unnatural sounds. Music plays with our senses. It transports us in
What would you do to save your dreams ?
A ground appears below me, welcoming and warm. I'm looking at it, getting closer to this little grain of sand I represent in this space, this infinite space. I crush.
Dust ascends around me. I clean my eyes: tears of pain want to flow but just can't. A feminine shadow advances, slowly, graceful. With her hand, she touches my chin and raises my head. I don't have any pain left. No pain I look at her. Her face is shadowed by the sunset. The sun is crystalline and surrounded by a few clouds, crystalline too, like if they were composed of glass particles. I'm looking at this enchanting landscape which opens to me. She caresses my face. Mildly, she blinks her purple eyes. Then, removing her hand, she takes a step back. She seems to be observing me, delighted to see me in this world which is certainly hers.
Dust starts to dissipate and the Sun disappears behind the skyline. The girl's face that is in front of me starts to appe
Her CatalystAs she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble.
So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together.
But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot the skeins they twist and pull on like reins hold fast? When have any of the Sisters recorded the visions they traced upon space-time and recited them, left them open for critique and discussion and debate?
Which is why she walks through the chalky soot of the smashed city around her. This all
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More