00510101 (center (old is better))
Sherwood needs to grow the f- up so I can get out from behind this drum kit! thinks Karl during another so-so rehearsal, fellow bandmember — *only* fellow bandmember (so far) — Chet in front and to his right per usual, with a new costume of his own. Welcome Robo Santa! Welcome to Sciccorhands©. Karl’s? An ear of corn obviously in honor of his new hero Leptune from that kooky animation movie he’s been watching a lot of lately, also colored as such. The whole effect gives off a strong sci fi vibe, with both costumes appearing like space suits. Are they actually alien musicians beamed down from another planet to teach us all the power of universal groove? If only the music was as strong as the costumes and the idea, band manager Biff Carter worries from the side. Karl is adequate not great on drums. Chet is okay/passable as lead guitarist but the singing — the *singing*. Which of course makes him think of Shelley. Just like Sherwood, also too small, still crooning in her too high but otherwise pitch-perfect voice down at the docks for an audience of one. How’s it going with the search for that time machine, observing Charles Anson?! We’ll see where this goes. TBC
00510102 (the eyes within)
00510103 (return)
He was on the other side of this glass window from me. I called out his name. Then I woke up. Then you asked me who Michael was.” He turned thoughtful, as if he knew and didn’t know at once. Just beyond the edge of consciousness.
—–
“Franklin! It’s me again. I’ve got to get through to you somehow. We met on the beach, remember?
“On the beach.”
00500104
“In olden days it was known as Zambolis. Well. That wasn’t *exactly* true. It was Orient (as opposed to Occident) on a planet, a (defined) sphere, that kind of paralleled the world of Our Second Lyfe, correct.” We’d already established, long long ago, that this planet was called Mythos and was based upon my home county near but not in the NC Mtns. Close enough?
—–
“I got tired of hearing about soulmates from Kammie. I mean, we’re great *friends*, we get along remarkably well — all told, ha.”
“The Venus issue,” I guess again as Andie the foreign green or blue mid-sectioned alien kept speaking and explaining her position — positions. I’d speculated long ago what we were — but it’s more obviously what I’d call counterparts in my limited understanding of the cosmic subject. Like in Alabama.
“What is this Venus energy?” she said. I couldn’t tell if it was a question she was prompting me for an answer to or if she had the answer already thus making it rhetorical. Because this was a sticking point. “Where did it all start?” she followed up.
Here. In Blue Mountain. Better get back to it.
—–
00510105
She approached the door from the right.
The 28 blue squares representing Jeogeot’s Korean Channel winked out 1 by 1 by 1 on the floor before her, leaving only red, yellow, green.
“Andie?” I call over the resulting black void. “Is that really you??” The hair and skin colors were a bit off from before but I knew this to be true.
Sunklands 