grey's hourglass: November 2008

A young woman moves through the house- restless, she walks faster through the bare white hallways, her feet cold on the polished wooden floor. Pictures hang on every wall. She can’t look at them. The kitchen window is open, and she runs to it. Long white curtains flow around her like water, embracing her. She touches them as they brush her, silently pleading for something more. But they flit away as the breeze dies. She leans out the window for several minutes, searching for something. The moon is bright and full, and it washes her yard in silver. But nothing moves except the clouds. She closes the window, smoothes the curtains, and walks back to bed. The next night she is down by the lake, looking out from a pile of rocks on the shore. She hugs her jacket around her- the night air is cold. But then she sees a flash of silver under the surface, and her eyes grow huge. She dives in after it, losing her jacket to the pull of the water, swimming frantically after a slight glow that darts ahead and back and turns…but it’s nothing, just a fish, and it darts away. She drags her feet back to shore, and shivers uncontrollably at the wheel as she drives home. The bed mocks her, calling softly, promising rest but only giving memories. One more night of visions, of that golden field, dancing about with an angel. The child had been beautiful. Her eyes were so deep blue they seemed black, and her hair was the same light straw honey color as her mother’s, but curled. She laughed as the woman swung her around, they ran through the wheat to the picnic basket, food all laid out on the blanket, her husband sitting on the edge, smiling at them. Then the woman carries her child to bed, singing. The girl grips her nightgown, begging to stay up a little longer. The woman frowns. This is unusual- Eileen usually goes to sleep without a sound- the child is always so content, but tonight she is unhappy. She sings to the girl, comforting her, and brushes her hair back, bends down to kiss her. “We’ll see you in the morning, Eileen…” As the woman’s lips brush the child’s skin, she dissolves, breaking up beneath her, and the woman jerks awake in bed once again, the morning sunlight shining down and making the room, her bed, her eyelashes, and the empty crib all golden once again.

so there's this online particle simulator I've been messing about on, and basically I create something I like and then I screenprint it. As the title implies, I dunno if this counts as art, but I like it. So here's some of my screenshots: