tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87651553683749231912024-03-05T16:48:27.738-08:00The Crazy Creative CornerBeading, crocheting, clay-making, writing, opinionating... two sisters who do it all!The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.comBlogger273125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-60416492245497408502016-02-09T12:39:00.001-08:002016-02-09T12:40:55.867-08:00My Inner Pyro Is HappyThere's a reason this blog is called "Crazy Creative." I am curious about, and willing to learn to some extent, any number of things. My latest creative course is Pyrography, a.k.a. wood burning. Yes, I am playing with another heat producing instrument (1st was my mini-torch from Lowe's, then the Heat Gun from Harbor Freight, now this... my Inner Pyro Personality is giggling madly), the Walnut Hollow Creative Versa Tool for burning wood. (see it on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B005P1TRAS?psc=1&redirect=true&ref_=oh_aui_detailpage_o03_s00">Amazon</a>) I finally got to test it last night, but only two of the four settings. Here's my practice run on a thin piece of wood I bought at Michael's.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfQKw-9ux0yCeoBTSq0WNd2YNk6skaKQFwfRxc65x805c79C04kDWpAQk7SH0p1SUZ8wz1I17DGtxQBsqKWGAhpxNn76WBpuqm1imf2hqHY8ukNIziEamKZrJaKfIisxBDuo9rPIJtK_Vw/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfQKw-9ux0yCeoBTSq0WNd2YNk6skaKQFwfRxc65x805c79C04kDWpAQk7SH0p1SUZ8wz1I17DGtxQBsqKWGAhpxNn76WBpuqm1imf2hqHY8ukNIziEamKZrJaKfIisxBDuo9rPIJtK_Vw/s320/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I was playing with both my colored pencils and ALL the heat nibs for the "pen" of my new tool, so it's a bit over-done. Plus, I didn't really have a pattern in mind, I was just winging it, so the "duck" looks more like a "dog"... sort of... ah, well.<br />
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<br />
Anyway, not too ugly for a 1st attempt. I'll make further forays, with a pattern next time, and try to keep anyone still out there updated. I know I've been gone for a long while, it's just hard to blog when you have no time to either create OR type! :( <br />
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Stay Creative!The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-14175262609885056452015-12-07T15:37:00.001-08:002015-12-07T15:38:06.916-08:00December 7th... Pearl Harbor Remembrance DayToday's date is a date that was to live in Infamy for years, decades, etc., to come. Has it? Can you remember what today's date is? Without having to check your calendar? <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPolkoh6LsqmiaRvDagAGfD6OOOYUp4gjm3Rpj4MUEOQ07E45G_ddoF4hk7DUPzze4BfXK7WJBxi40islQ9xc1ILKpV4VAz8vKWk6Bqbs4vVRqdEgfnJM0sALgBPQz0raoKu5jDbYr124v/s1600/arizona1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPolkoh6LsqmiaRvDagAGfD6OOOYUp4gjm3Rpj4MUEOQ07E45G_ddoF4hk7DUPzze4BfXK7WJBxi40islQ9xc1ILKpV4VAz8vKWk6Bqbs4vVRqdEgfnJM0sALgBPQz0raoKu5jDbYr124v/s320/arizona1.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Arizona's Funnel ~ Pearl Harbor, HI</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Arizona's "tears," continually wept for<br />
those who lost their lives in a cowardly attack<br />
on a country not even involved, yet, in the war.<br />
"I fear we have awakened a sleeping giant and <br />
filled him with a terrible resolve."<br />
attributed to Gen. Yamamoto (tho' in question)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There was a terrible resolve made that day. A resolve to defend the defenseless, our people, and our country no matter the cost. Can we say the same, today? This country pulled together for years during WWI and WWII but, today, we seem to quickly forget our resolve to defend against an enemy that would see us dead, or worse. Who will weep for our dead in the future? Who still remembers <em>this</em> century's Day of Infamy as well as the <em>previous </em>Day of Infamy?<br />
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<br />
TEARS FROM THE DEEP<br />
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<br />
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<tr><td align="left" class="norm">Tears are still wept, tho' the heart's made of steel,<br />
For men nigh forgot tho' a Nation should feel. <br />
They died in a war, tho' no battle fought they,<br />
On what became known as an Infamous Day. <br />
<br />
Tears from the Deep, tho' the heartbeat is cold,<br />
For valorous men who will never grow old. <br />
Entombed in the dark, by water enshrined, <br />
Stood ready 'gainst all, by Freedom defined. <br />
<br />
Tho' many have come, so few shed a tear.<br />
They call to us, now, do the whisper you hear?<br />
They are the reason this Nation stood fast!<br />
The weeping, so soft, do you hear it at last?<br />
<br />
Tears are still wept to help us recall,<br />
Tho' few still remember they gave us their all;<br />
From way down below, to the Oceans' safe keep,<br />
Seeping up for reminders are Tears from the Deep.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>© Copyright 2011 Pam Sears</b> (condorsfan at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.</div>
<br />The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-23033621077833957922015-09-21T14:10:00.000-07:002015-09-21T14:10:03.600-07:00Essential Oil CrazeI'm a Certified Massage Therapist and, I'll be frank, this Essential Oil craze has me worried. Don't get me wrong, I love essential oils and I use them when I do massage or Reflexology. They really do help ease sore muscles, relieve swollen or inflamed tissue, and help with a myriad of health problems. However, in almost all cases, essential oils need to be used with the help of someone trained in their use.<br />
<br />
As a Massage Therapist, I have a nominal amount of training so that I can use the oils that will assist the people I work on in relaxing and/or healing their muscles/tendons. But! If you want to use EOs for holistic health reasons you need to do one of two things; 1) go to a Nationally Certified Aromatherapist, or 2) research, research, research before using <em>any</em> oils in <em>any </em>amount in <em>any</em> way. Some oils can cause seizures if you happen to be prone to those. Children under a certain age should not have EOs used on them. You also need to let your physician know if you're using EOs (same as when you use over-the-counter supplements) because some oils might react badly with some medication. That's not to say don't take doctor prescribed medication, that's simply a caution. Doctors need this information the same as they need your medication information. Remember, medications can sometimes interact badly with each other, too.<br />
<br />
I'm also leery of any site that promotes their oils as "Therapeutic Grade" because, if you have a good company selling as pure a product as there is, it's all "therapeutic grade", you can't get any better than "100% pure peppermint oil" (or whichever oil you're considering). And, <em>please</em>, be wary of those who make claims of being able to "cure" or "fix" whatever problems you have. Oils do <strong><em>NOT</em></strong> cure anything! They are a supplement or an aide to whatever is going on with you at that time. Sometimes, prescribed medication, alone, is not enough. Perhaps you need the assistance of an Acupuncturist. Please, tell me you wouldn't be insane enough to try this on yourself (unless you happen to be a trained Acupuncturist). Holistic medicine, when it's done by certified, conscientious professionals, works hand-in-hand with your doctor(s). <br />
<br />
Here are a few facts about Certified Aromatherapists:<br />
1) Certified Aromatherapists are required to study chemistry, same as any doctor or nurse, so they know how certain oils will act and react together and to prescribed medications. If they're not sure, they will advise you to check with your doctor or get your permission to speak with him/her themselves. ANYone who tells you that you don't need to check with your doctor, or tell him/her about the oils you're using, is hiding something. Or, to put it another way, they're an Old Fashioned Snake Oil Salesman!<br />
<br />
2) They <em>want </em>to work with your doctor (see above) because they want you healthy. They may even give you a simple recipe for spraying around the house during cold season to help combat those nasty cold germs! (you can find those recipes on-line, as well but, again, be aware of the oils and, if you have kids under a certain age - which will be noted - don't use them)<br />
<br />
3) They never make claims that they can cure or fix something that your doctor cannot nor do they make claims that they can tell you have this or that health problem but, don't bother checking with your doctor on it because no medical tests will be able to detect it (it's in the pre-diagnostic stages!) and to attempt such a test might trigger the condition to explode into full blown (fill in your favorite disease here). Again, can you say Snake Oil Salesman?<br />
<br />
4) Aromatherapists tailor their oil solutions to each individual. I'm not saying there aren't recipes for certain things (i.e., the oils I use for massage are usually 3 drops of this and 5 drops of that and 2 drops of the other thing in a carrier oil solution) but, holistically speaking, there's no one "off the rack" solution for every health dilemma. And, again, you don't want the oils you're using to react negatively with any prescribed medications. If you're working with an Aromatherapist for, say, depression, he/she is going to tailor their suggested blend to work with where you are, emotionally as well as medically, then monitor you to see if changes need to be made to the blend. What would work for me won't necessarily work for you.<br />
<br />
5) NO reputable Aromatherapist is going to tell you to take oils internally for any reason. At least, not without <em>closely </em>monitoring you. I've used peppermint oil on my gums when I've had an ache in a tooth or my jaw, I've even used it - <u>sparingly</u> - under an Aromatherapist's advisement for stomach troubles, and I've used a few oils as a mouthwash (but I spit that out, not swallow it!), but I would NEVER even dream of swallowing EOs due to their natures. If you can't put it directly on your skin without diluting it in a carrier oil (and they will tell you they should ALL be diluted!) why would you put it in your stomach!?<br />
<br />
Finally, folks, I can only say once more - research, research, research! Just because something is suddenly popular doesn't mean those promoting it know what they're talking about. My best suggestion is to find an Aromatherapist who would be willing to answer your questions (they all would, by the way) but, if you're not sure where to start, go to the web site for the National Association for Holistic Aromatherapy (<a href="https://www.naha.org/">here</a>) or the Aromatherapy Registration Council (<a href="http://aromatherapycouncil.org/">here</a>). They'll be glad to either answer your questions or put you in touch with a Certified Aromatherapist. Please, the best defense to your health is YOUR continued education.The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-20647506115460035752015-09-03T15:39:00.000-07:002015-09-03T15:41:21.138-07:00Busy, Busier, BusiestI have actually gotten into the Craft Room to play with creating earrings. I love earrings, I believe that's a well established fact by now. So, preferences aside, here are some pics of what's been happening lately. (as you can see, I was having some serious fun ~snork!~) (I believe it's also been established I love Halloween!?)<br />
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The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-52047330768883379452015-08-25T10:36:00.000-07:002015-08-25T10:36:43.987-07:00In A Serious VeinMost of you who follow me on Face Book know I broke my ankle right before Memorial Day and was laid up for a couple of months, what with the broken-in-three-places-bone and surgery it required. (there are pics, if anyone wants to see them... before CAT's, during surgery, and my last post op - almost healed so you can't hardly tell). I'm doing pretty darn good at the healing (thanks for those particular genes, Dad!) and the physical therapist I'm seeing ("Dr. Dale") says I'm actually ahead of the healing curve for Range of Motion in my ankle ligaments. The only thing holding me back right now is continued swelling which is normal, it's only been since May, if annoying. However, those ligaments rest for about 7 - 8 hours a night and can get "stove up" on me. Same from sitting at my desk all day. I've got some 1/2 bolsters to rock my feet and keep my ankle moving, but there's still a hitch in my git-along most of the time. Especially if I'm tired, like at the end of the day. A few days ago I stopped at the local market for a few items and, when I came out, a teenager burst into laughter after seeing me limp toward her. The following is a letter, not so much to her since I doubt she'll ever see it, but to the rest of us to remind us that we don't always know the circumstances behind what we think we see. Compassion and kindness are always a good answer. Humor can come later, if the person chooses to share with us.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">An Open Letter to the
teenager in front of Fresh & Easy who was laughing at the way I
walked;<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">You think I didn’t know you
were laughing at me, but I did. I’m not as stupid as you’d like to believe and
you’re not as smart – or subtle – as you’d like to think. Not that you thought,
although your friend did. She tried to hush you and stop you. Her body language
showed shame with your behavior. She even tried to give me an embarrassed little
wave as if to disassociate herself from you. To my own embarrassment, I allowed
my irritation with your behavior to keep me from acknowledging her. I hope I see
her again so I can apologize.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">But, for you, I feel sorry.
Yes, I was irritated, but it was because you were laughing at a perceived
disability. You had no idea why I was limping. No idea what made “but that girl”
walk the way she did. It could have been a birth defect. It could have been an
accident. It could even have been caused by severe abuse trauma. You didn’t stop
to think or sympathize you just burst into laughter, made quiet comments to your
friends, and laughed some more at your own so-called wit. If you’d have listened
to your friend you’d have seen that none of the rest of your group was laughing.
They mostly seemed embarrassed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I feel sorry for you
because I’ve learned in 47 years of living that those who make fun of another
person – for <span style="font-style: italic;">anything</span> – do so
for one of two reason: they think it makes them look cool, or it’s to make
themselves feel better about their own insecurities. I don’t know which it was
for you but your friends didn’t appear to think you looked
cool.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">What if I’d told you my
limp was because a strong, good looking guy caused me to break my ankle? Would
you still be laughing? How about if I said I was in a vehicle accident because
of that guy and I broke it in three places which caused me to have to undergo
surgery and now I have a plate and six screws holding my bones in place. Would
you still have made snide comments?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I’ll let you off the hook, somewhat,
because I believe you were trying to make yourself feel better (personal
opinion) at the expense of someone you think you’ll never see again. The story
<i><span style="font-style: italic;">is </span></i>on the humorous side and my
sister and I made jokes the whole evening that it happened and have done so
since. The vehicle was my bike and the “guy” was my dog. He went down one side
of a fire hydrant and I went on the other. His leash got caught and I and my
bike got flipped over. It bent my bike and broke my ankle. Yes, in three places
and, yes, I have that plate and those pins. And, yes, I laughed at the Urgent
Care and have since. But, you didn’t know that. <i><span style="font-style: italic;">You </span></i>laughed at a perceived
disability.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I feel sorry for you. If
you don’t change, the <i><span style="font-style: italic;">good
</span></i>friends will stop hanging around you and the bad-influence “friends”
will drag you down. Learn to be kind and sympathetic to others. You’ll feel
better about yourself in ways laughing at them can’t make you feel and you’ll
draw the <i><span style="font-style: italic;">good </span></i>sort of friends to
you. The Bible teaches that to <i><span style="font-style: italic;">have
</span></i>friends, you must <i><span style="font-style: italic;">be </span></i>a
friend. Not a self-centered twerp.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="font-family: Times;"></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua";"></span><o:p><span style="font-family: Times;"></span></o:p>p.s., not so serious post coming a little later, I've been going a bit nuts with the earring making ;) </div>
The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-64731007288398590842015-08-03T12:20:00.000-07:002015-08-10T15:22:07.369-07:00ZNet Shows and On-Line 'ZineI was able to be creative recently and it's something I haven't been able to do in a long time. First because I had no ideas, no desire, no Muse speaking to me. Second, when I finally felt I was going to hear from my long-absent Muse, I went and broke my ankle (in three places, no less) and had to have surgery on it. I wasn't confident/controlled enough on my crutches to get down into my craft room (even if it was only one step) because, the one time I tried, I lost my balance and fell again (without the same consequences as before, thank God!) so I wasn't about to try until recently.<br />
<br />
That said, I was one of the group of designers for <a href="http://znetshows.com/">ZNet.com</a> asked to participate in designing some jewelry for their upcoming on-line 'zine and received a bunch of lovely beads to work with. Me being me, I made earrings. I love earrings. I think I've mentioned before how much I love earrings because they are so feminine and swing-y. Here's what I managed to create using ZNet's recycled sea-glass beads (and some of my own). Enjoy! )Also, here's the link to the On-Line <a href="http://www.joomag.com/magazine/creative-spark-summer-2015/0475079001435699601?short">E'Zine</a> and a link to the <a href="http://www.znetshows.com/gemshow/retail/sea_glass_beads.asp">sea-glass</a> page on ZNet's web site)<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS94E8ZvMJQmL59F_fd9RDPaIqTwubMHXAkKwsOqI5UWn7ZM_oJf24c1fPeLlrsx1-s1ZRA-M8jUBVf_PhZph4mIyeErU_Q9vfUAo2_AncAG-4lgLCn-BUbIkalT4ILVDdCpiNb3ZlX220/s1600/IMG_20150629_183058.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS94E8ZvMJQmL59F_fd9RDPaIqTwubMHXAkKwsOqI5UWn7ZM_oJf24c1fPeLlrsx1-s1ZRA-M8jUBVf_PhZph4mIyeErU_Q9vfUAo2_AncAG-4lgLCn-BUbIkalT4ILVDdCpiNb3ZlX220/s400/IMG_20150629_183058.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clockwise from top: Dolphins, teal sea-glass<br />
tubes and sea-foam pearls, light blue starfish<br />
and baby blue tulip-style beads all of<br />
recycled sea-glass and a few of my own beads.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyyvTMm6VGETsU6be16WsA4CWw-ZYWx7fLkArfBMkPezbGyoB5n722Qt6BMdVelBWPjNzXRrOB24ZQznj7u3Cz3lUwpApoaRlCVzzALqzpLXHId2s7jcp1u9_f-OSlShdRDpC8DpwtsjW_/s1600/IMG_20150629_183219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyyvTMm6VGETsU6be16WsA4CWw-ZYWx7fLkArfBMkPezbGyoB5n722Qt6BMdVelBWPjNzXRrOB24ZQznj7u3Cz3lUwpApoaRlCVzzALqzpLXHId2s7jcp1u9_f-OSlShdRDpC8DpwtsjW_/s400/IMG_20150629_183219.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top right; black recycled sea glass, multicolored<br />
findings, orange sea glass.<br />
Bottom left; teal sea glass tubes, orange sea glass,<br />
garnet pearls on copper wire.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheg7JJyo2KIB0rTJuMzkOa17Z6ZXdBtqdcq6P6v8R2OIz_gHzYr-CGMaKzR6fIZS8yY4-UMH0NBylPoAzJMXN18adXy5QMoYo43gvD-90R-MTUELhVai-JoLrTB6AXytjMvSN6h79oM3aw/s1600/IMG_20150629_183301.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheg7JJyo2KIB0rTJuMzkOa17Z6ZXdBtqdcq6P6v8R2OIz_gHzYr-CGMaKzR6fIZS8yY4-UMH0NBylPoAzJMXN18adXy5QMoYo43gvD-90R-MTUELhVai-JoLrTB6AXytjMvSN6h79oM3aw/s400/IMG_20150629_183301.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top right; pearls in black, gray, & white with<br />
red sea glass and red crystal accents.<br />
Bottom left; red and blue sea glass, white<br />
pearls, & green crystals.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxM7KEdWNlzkrdiKlls3TumuHexmDhvrEoqd-7n6gYEpB2o6VUQ_1OlTYgJ0crvG3pJejaCYinBG80pSygBeJ-1d69TxK8xDvYXUfC4_LM4VGy_8Pvxvi0NC5p7q4vars6WgsGlDf_cA2y/s1600/IMG_20150629_183333.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxM7KEdWNlzkrdiKlls3TumuHexmDhvrEoqd-7n6gYEpB2o6VUQ_1OlTYgJ0crvG3pJejaCYinBG80pSygBeJ-1d69TxK8xDvYXUfC4_LM4VGy_8Pvxvi0NC5p7q4vars6WgsGlDf_cA2y/s400/IMG_20150629_183333.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top to bottom; two green sea glass squares,<br />
teal sea glass tubes; green sea glass square,<br />
yellow Czech glass squares; green sea glass,<br />
white pearls on copper wire. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Hope you enjoyed seeing them as much as I enjoyed making them.<br />
<br />
(addendum) I wrote this right after I made these and I've since made several more earrings from ZNet's sea glass. I'll post them later.The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-46729544610543685972015-04-17T12:30:00.000-07:002015-04-17T12:30:23.159-07:00Out of The MythsI have been reading a sci-fantasy series that has recently inspired me in the jewelry making arena. The author suggests that all our lore and legends are based in some reality and the gods, goddesses and demi-gods of old myth are actual living beings. Some from here and some from other "realms," or what we would call dimensions. It's an interesting thought. So I have a goal to create a line of pendants and/or earrings to represent the gods and goddesses of myth and legend; Out Of The Myths. <br />
<br />
With all the ideas bouncing around in my head for this, I was actually able to get into my craft room last night and play. It was my first time making a pendant and I learned a few things. Such as, you need to make the tab a little longer if you're going to create your own bail. Also, it helps to have a good set of bail making pliers on hand (I have a pair of small-bail Wubbers on hold in Amazon...) but I really like my first attempt, even if it's not perfect. It's called The Heart Of Hades.<br />
<br />
Have a look:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Fs3jFkkcfmQLmDL-iHlMxqdb2Qk6Z0m-9kieTD2Oy4xjolwrSn7FOcvx7eVgQQXlRopsin0eerzYarS8_2ibHXcb-l2k_57ucCkGadxXWOkDZ5RoveLTR4UV4U5XB3j0LEYNZMU97fCo/s1600/hades3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Fs3jFkkcfmQLmDL-iHlMxqdb2Qk6Z0m-9kieTD2Oy4xjolwrSn7FOcvx7eVgQQXlRopsin0eerzYarS8_2ibHXcb-l2k_57ucCkGadxXWOkDZ5RoveLTR4UV4U5XB3j0LEYNZMU97fCo/s1600/hades3.jpg" height="320" width="318" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is when I realized I needed to take pics! Duh! I'd added on <br />
three layers of Iced Enamels faux enamel in Ruby & Pewter, then<br />
cut a small bit of Sterling, lead-free solder, flattened it, and filed it<br />
to form a heart. I was able to attach it using the same heat gun I'd<br />
used to melt the faux enamel. It's on there quite firm.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHQb63ProXb88is8Skq1tkQiLj5pOvW1OmxbkZI_4HNAkuVmAdHb7D8tlcPTFyrbk7W0iTp_us7J1Y-tq9Ehjd5W5MISINBznX1D9aEZ3vAJESJxQ2JfXPkjaXatDYrxs3SFAqGIibAAVi/s1600/hades2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHQb63ProXb88is8Skq1tkQiLj5pOvW1OmxbkZI_4HNAkuVmAdHb7D8tlcPTFyrbk7W0iTp_us7J1Y-tq9Ehjd5W5MISINBznX1D9aEZ3vAJESJxQ2JfXPkjaXatDYrxs3SFAqGIibAAVi/s1600/hades2.jpg" height="232" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is after I'd attempted to fold/roll over the tab. As I said, it<br />
wasn't quite long enough. Next time, though. I was still able<br />
to string it on a chain and am wearing it today, regardless.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvZmPdeR50T8IW1Ld6hXrHt3sznXa8Hlg_CNpqZzvHv9og-WdhggtLB1ROXUgOjo3xNP10cRtiMbulypesZFUABB86lUqJbIeoTe5g-_6_h6BqFNdI1dN4e9L3-WJN9iYLJ0rvuDsjsuvF/s1600/hades1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvZmPdeR50T8IW1Ld6hXrHt3sznXa8Hlg_CNpqZzvHv9og-WdhggtLB1ROXUgOjo3xNP10cRtiMbulypesZFUABB86lUqJbIeoTe5g-_6_h6BqFNdI1dN4e9L3-WJN9iYLJ0rvuDsjsuvF/s1600/hades1.jpg" height="280" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I decided I didn't want the back to be plain ol' metal so I painted<br />
red & black acrylic paints in to mimic the front. I chose the black<br />
as the flame-like portion - after all, we're dealing with Hades,<br />
ruler of Tartarus and lord of the Dark... well, in our mythology.<br />
In the series I'm reading, he's the world's top necromancer and<br />
he and Persephone are perfectly in love and her mother, Demeter,<br />
is a selfish, egomaniacal, narcissistic human who is jealous of<br />
anyone who can command magic. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So, after everything was how I wanted I sealed both sides (one at a time) with Resin spray. It gives it a glossy look not fully captured by my smart phone, but, hey, it's still got good color. <br />
<br />
So, what's inspired you, lately?The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-48627064504785967262015-04-06T20:52:00.000-07:002015-04-06T20:52:30.478-07:00The MUUUUUUSE!Woo Hoo! My muse came out of hiding for awhile, today, and my 109 lb "fur-baby" let me do some work. I played with Relique Ice Resins today. I made some sample tabs to see what they would do & look like, then I made a pair of earrings. (squeeeeee! I made some jewelry!!)<br />
Anyway, here's some pics. Enjoy!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi15V5VQjrapqXxRvtgHHo2mwYj41rmJooOEOa8VwzPGb3obb4sBgHwH3ifTPF-HRAL2x8099APXoi8pigQiE2_6Pn5ZTfGUkscNOuWvMKQYvwaAognGDeKH5viuNNrf1-VT30ONMwU8Re4/s1600/PicsArt_1428358093939.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi15V5VQjrapqXxRvtgHHo2mwYj41rmJooOEOa8VwzPGb3obb4sBgHwH3ifTPF-HRAL2x8099APXoi8pigQiE2_6Pn5ZTfGUkscNOuWvMKQYvwaAognGDeKH5viuNNrf1-VT30ONMwU8Re4/s1600/PicsArt_1428358093939.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top left; Chartreuse, German Silver, Turquoise. Top right; Raspberry, Ivory, Gold. Bottom; Amethyst, Pewter, Ruby.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEFEQ5m087Ll_97XJ4r16tL8RwBviNTpwPcIe_0QF-WsJ8QTmysa8W7DdR76QDloXkFUDWwTux9Uzte4ABINwjy5JO-X-2ajHcOg18butz3sqIO4PngOryPBV-C-JwQk0iaKnE8RFF0Tgb/s1600/PicsArt_1428363978719.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEFEQ5m087Ll_97XJ4r16tL8RwBviNTpwPcIe_0QF-WsJ8QTmysa8W7DdR76QDloXkFUDWwTux9Uzte4ABINwjy5JO-X-2ajHcOg18butz3sqIO4PngOryPBV-C-JwQk0iaKnE8RFF0Tgb/s1600/PicsArt_1428363978719.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Used Chartreuse as companion in all but one mix set. Top; C & Raspberry, C. & Turquoise, C. & Amethyst. Right; C. & Pewter, C. & German Silver. Bottom; clockwise from top of pic, Carnelian, C. & Carnelian, C. & Ruby, Carnelian-Turquoise-Ruby.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-mPZ9B4tN38YShjPZuGaetxf1tCe7Ljp1szteQurQZLH1NISu7dGgBMLe9Logpwg1zwYHIrSRD5us6llW1qk7dXEGIO_rXv_edQ8G131IZjQ_rB3rSn_jbBZTTVOFN6o95fkZ6Su6ao8q/s1600/2015-04-06+20.18.31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-mPZ9B4tN38YShjPZuGaetxf1tCe7Ljp1szteQurQZLH1NISu7dGgBMLe9Logpwg1zwYHIrSRD5us6llW1qk7dXEGIO_rXv_edQ8G131IZjQ_rB3rSn_jbBZTTVOFN6o95fkZ6Su6ao8q/s1600/2015-04-06+20.18.31.jpg" height="320" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Earrings; Turquoise, Carnelian, Ruby (hard to see the difference in the red & orange in this pic). Set my colors & ran a toothpick thru them while still in a melted state. I call them "Molten" because I feel compelled to name my stuff. What can I say, I'm weird. :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-55872699318788456152015-03-10T13:10:00.000-07:002015-03-10T13:10:12.432-07:00The Maker's Wars ~ Chapter Three and Chapter Four<span style="color: #fce5cd;">Yes! I'm giving y'all a two-fer for March. Chapters three and four were ready(-ish) so I went ahead and posted both. Of course, now I need to work on polishing following chapters.... I think I need to get 'hold of Professor Aether, he has something I think his 'Alternate Universe' self will have need of in the fifth one and I need specifics.... (heeee)</span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #fce5cd;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16pt;"><strong><span style="color: #fce5cd;">CHAPTER THREE</span></strong><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">(</span></span></span><span style="color: #fce5cd;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">the Seeing)</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Brothers!”</span> <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Both Aether and Theller winced at the high pitched squeal that
nearly shattered their ears from half way across the small Commons in the
middle of the Sight Maker’s College. A moment later, brown cotton skirts flying
high enough to allow a peek of the white lace petticoats and semi-sensible
brown leather half boots, their blond haired youngest sister threw herself
first at Theller and then at Aether all while bouncing in an excess of
excitement.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“You’rehereyou’rehereyou’rehereIwasrightyou’rehere!” She gabbled
almost too fast to understand.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Fourth Level?” Aether raised a humorous eyebrow at Theller. “Are
you <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">sure </i>about that?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Putting on his best Disapproving Master look, Theller shook his
head. “Not at the moment, no.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Pulling back and screwing up her pert little nose, Merither stuck
her tongue out at them. “Phooey!” She snorted. “I was right and now I’ve passed
my mid-levels.” She informed them with all the haughtiness of a sixteen year
old little sister as she straightened her under-bust Turkish vest and fluffed
the lace at the throat of her short sleeved burgundy pinstriped cream blouse. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Theller finally released a fond smile, proud of his youngest
sister. “Got it right, eh?” He gave her a hug. Merither was normally very aware
of her family heritage when in public but she was, as the youngest, spoiled by
all her siblings.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Did you also get the whys and wherefores of it?” Theller added.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">With a sigh, her face fell and her shoulders slumped slightly.
“No. I Saw…” she paused and shuddered and the two men glanced at each other.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“What did you See, Merither?” Theller asked gently.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">She seemed to focus inward, her hazel eyes darkening to a moss
green and a haunted look entered them before she shook her head. “Doesn’t
matter.” Her gaze cleared and she forced a smile. “I got most of my Sight
Making right, so I Passed.” Then her smile turned mischievous. “I also get
bonus points for Seeing you’d ask about my Sight. And the timing.”<br /><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Chuckling, Aether tugged one of her glossy, sun-colored ringlets.
“Fine, fine. We’re proud to know you’ve passed your mid-levels.” He then
gestured toward a bench under a pair of coastal Sequoia’s and they moved that
way.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">The siblings seated themselves, Merither in between her brothers,
and she and Theller turned to Aether who worked to keep from grinning at the
expectation on their faces.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Meri, our brother Selinger has asked me to find a certain Brass
Maker. Theller tells me she changed Colleges and came here to complete her
education. I need to know about her, but I also need to go find her. Can you
tell me if I have the time to stop with the Sight Grand Master or do I need to
move on?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Meri looked at Aether a long moment, then her eyes focused
somewhere in the middle distance and began to change color from hazel to a
light sea green to milky white as she Called a Seeing. The two men sat relaxed
and quiet so as not to interrupt her concentration.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“There comes from within an enemy that will strike at the very
heart of our world.” She began, her normally sweet voice vibrating in an odd
way so as to sound like her words echoed at the same moment they were spoken.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“The heart will be torn asunder and our world be destroyed except
you find the one, a Brass Maker, who opens portals and binds the Others to do
the will of those she binds them to.</span> <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“They See not as we, but their fearsome Sight must be learned if
our World is to survive. Find the one you need in the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Deep</st1:placename> <st1:placename w:st="on">Murk</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Forest</st1:placetype></st1:place> so she can bring Sight beyond our
Sight.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">As her words ended, Meri’s brothers waited with quiet intensity to
see what else might occur or what she might need. After a moment, Meri’s eyes
cleared back to her normal hazel and she blinked furiously for several
heartbeats before she drew in a deep, steadying breath as she cleared the last
of the Calling from her mind.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“I think, brother,” she turned her worried eyes to Aether. “You’d
better seek her out now. I got the sense of time being shorter than you
believe.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“What else, Meri?” Aether prodded. “You said the enemy comes from
within. Are our people betrayed by one of our own?”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“I…” she hesitated, her brow wrinkled in worry. “I’m only a Fourth
Level Sight Maker, ‘Ther. I can’t be sure I’m Seeing what I think I am. I can
get echoes of the Past mixed in with the Present and Future.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Meri, you’ve always had an extraordinary gift at… <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">knowing. </i>You learned from Meirnath
before you ever came to the Sight Maker’s College. Even <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">she </i>says you have an impressive Gift. I’ll trust what you think
you’ve Seen before I’ll listen to a full-Sighted Tenth Level Maker.” Aether
declared, gently rubbing her hand as he spoke.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Meri smiled faintly. “Don’t ever let the Grand Sight Master hear
you. We’ll never get another Sight Maker for the Royal Family and Selinger or
Daddy will kill you.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Aether only grinned roguishly as he waited for his little sister
to decide what to do. With a sigh, she shrugged. “Someone – and I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">don’t </i>know who – someone from a trusted
position appears to betray our family, our people, and our World. I can’t See
who or from where, I’ve tried…”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“You’ve Seen this before!?” Theller cut in sharply. “How often?”</span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Meri gave the two men a guilty look. “Several times over the past
few weeks.” She admitted in a near whisper.</span></span><br /><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Meri!” Theller gripped her arm but Aether gave a sharp shake of
his head to stop him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Have you told anyone else, Meri?” Aether asked gently.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Tears filled her eyes and spilled over, lips trembling as she
shook her head.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br /><span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“I w-wasn’t sure w-what I was Seeing. I felt it imperative to keep
it to myself until you came.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Aether nodded and handed her his handkerchief. “Dry your eyes,
love. It’s okay. Even Meirnath can’t pinpoint the person or time of betrayal.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“It’s someone close to us, ‘Ther.” Meri whispered.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Yes, Meirnath said it’s someone trusted.” He nodded.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“You don’t understand.” She spoke more urgently. “It’s someone
close to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">us</i>!” she gestured from
herself to her brothers. “To our family. It’s someone <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">we </i>know and… love.” She ended in a whisper.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Aether felt the blood drain from his face and he glanced at
Theller to see he looked as ashen as he felt. Someone <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">they </i>knew would be the source of betrayal? May the Maker of All
protect them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“We need to let Selinger know.” Aether told Theller. “Can you get
the message to him? I have a feeling I better go home, get my things, and get a
move on.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Will you be taking an airship?” Theller frowned at Aether in
concern.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Only as far as The Chimney Rock Plateau. I doubt there’s a
landing space close to where the Brass Maker lives in the Deep Murk. Let’s get
a move on, brother. We don’t have time to stop longer.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">He took a steadying breath.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Time is ending and betrayal is near. We must hurry to save what
we can.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #fce5cd;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd; font-size: large;"><strong>CHAPTER FOUR</strong></span><br />
</span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">(King’s
Buccaneer)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Aether shoved open the door leading onto the airship’s Observing
Balcony. A stiff wind blew past but the clear glass wind shield welded into
place protected those observing. As the weight of the door slammed it shut
behind him the man peering through the Far Sighter that was fastened to the
railing straightened and turned with a scowl on his face. When he saw Aether
his features relaxed and one corner of his mouth even quirked slightly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Your Highness.” He bowed his head at Aether.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">With a snort, Aether gave him a mock glare. “Since when, Bertold.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“The smile hinted at earlier broke free. “Since His Majesty sent
word to aid you in any way in my power.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Well, knock it off!” Aether growled, kidding gone. “And fill me
in on what’s going on that has you so absorbed out here.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Bertold turned back to the Far Sighter but only pointed in the
direction he’d been looking. “There’s a squall brewing Nor‘east of us. Just
keeping an eye on it in case it heads toward us.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Aether glanced up at the great, gas-filled sail cloth above them.
It was what held the ship in the air as the steam-powered engines in the bowels
of the flight cabin propelled it. There was no untoward strain in evidence so
he relaxed. When he lowered his gaze to the Captain that man had his eye back
to the Far Sighter. One hand held it to adjust direction if necessary, the
other hand rested on the rail and the fingers of it drummed an agitated tattoo.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">"What are you really watching, Bertold?” Aether asked,
leaning casually against the cabin wall.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">He saw Bertold’s shoulders tighten and his hand still before he
relaxed and glanced back at Aether again,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Never could steam around you, sir.” He half grinned.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Then stop trying and answer.” Aether kept his face neutral with
effort. He knew what could go wrong with an airship and rarely flew in them if
he could avoid it. The nerves made his skull itch on the inside.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">After examining Aether for a long moment, Bertold shrugged his
surrender.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Air pirates. They love storms because they’ve gotten crazy enough
to hide <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">in </i>the clouds.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Aether’s shoulders jerked. “IN the clouds?! The explosion if a
bolt hits the gas sail!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Bertold grimaced. “Rumor has it they’ve found a way to turn the
lighting aside, somehow.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“That’s not…” Aether began, shaking his head, but got a calculating
look in his eyes as he once again examined the gas sail.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">At the same moment he cut off, Bertold cut in to finish.
“Possible. I know. But that’s the rumor. And I know one of the captains whose
ship was attacked well enough to believe his accounting of the event.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Tell me about it.” Aether said, still studying the sail bag and
all its supports.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“They appear from the midst of a storm cloud. They just sail right
at you like the clouds part and close behind them.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Aether jerked his gaze to Bertold. “Like the clouds part and close
behind them.” He repeated thoughtfully. After a moment, his eyes drifted back
upwards.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“You’re working an idea.” Bertold accused humorously.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“I am.” Aether agreed absently, then shook himself. “There’s no
way to turn aside lighting. It’s too random in its pattern to know where it
will hit and the gases used to fly our ships too volatile to allow a
super-heated charge even close to the sail bag. Ergo, there’s another answer.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Do you know it?” Bertold sounded hopeful.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“I’m… not sure. I have an idea, but…” He trailed off, his mind
working rapidly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Any ideas would be helpful, Aether.” Bertold said dryly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Well, it’s always possible a Weather Maker has been discovered
but I doubt it.” Aether returned with equal dryness. “You need to let me work
it a bit, Bertold. Get someone up here to relieve you on the Far Sighter for a
while, rest your eyes. Tell them to watch for a sparkle, like light reflecting
off something. If they see anything, even the smallest suspicion, let me know immediately.
I don’t care if they doubt what they saw, I still want to know. Got it?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Bertold nodded slowly. “What are you thinking?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Camouflage.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;"></span></span><br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">****************************************************<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">A half an hour later a steward rapped smartly on Aether’s cabin
door. The only thing he heard was some muttering sounds. Having been warned by
the captain that this might be the case, and coached in what to do, he rapped
sharply once more, three staccato raps against the wood, then opened it,
staying carefully in the hallway.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Sir? Professor Pendragon? The Captain’s complements and could you
join him on the Observing Balcony immediately.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">The steward heard a strangled oath, scrambling sounds, and the
Professor burst through the door. With barely time to thank the steward, Aether
made a mad dash down the hall. Grinning at how accurate the Captain’s
instructions had been the steward gave in to curiosity and leaned forward just
enough to peek inside the room<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Seeing the papers tacked to the walls, strewn across the desk, and
crumpled on the floor, he gave a wide-eyed shake of his head. If the level of
mess was indicative of the level of intelligence, then Professor Pendragon must
be a genius of the highest order.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Carefully closing the door, the steward left to continue his
duties. He only followed orders and took care of any passengers. Anything else
was the concern of the Captain and his officers.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">*********************************************************************<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Aether hit the door to the Observing Balcony hard enough he was
through before it could slam back against him. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“What did you see?!” He barked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Bertold turned to the Fourth Steersman who stood at the Far
Sighter looking both nervous and embarrassed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Tell the Professor, son.” Bertold encouraged. “It’s why you were
on watch.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Yes, sir.” The young man swallowed almost audibly, Adam’s apple
bobbing. “I was keeping a watch on that storm cloud, watching for any – er –
unusual light flashes.” He began hesitantly, then paused.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Yes?” Aether managed to contain his impatience and sound merely
interested. “You believe you saw something?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Ahm, well…” the Fourth Steersman hemmed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Son, I’m not expecting a lightning bolt or a flash message. Just…
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">some</i>thing.” Aether tried to reassure
the young man.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">The Fourth Steersman relaxed slightly and nodded. “Yes, sir. It
was definitely ‘something’ but it was so fast I don’t know what to call it. Not
even sure it was an actual flash of light.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Where?” Aether prodded.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Dead center of the storm mass, sir.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">A spark entered Aether’s eyes and he turned to Bertold. “How close
do ships get before they attack?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Bertold eyed the storm clouds, calculating from what he’d been
told and present distance of the clouds. “Depending on the strength of the
winds driving the clouds, another 30 minutes to an hour from now we’ll be
attacked. If that ‘something’ was them.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Aether gestured at the Far Sighter. “May I?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Nodding his compliance even as he stepped aside, Bertold motioned
the Fourth Steersman away. Aether stepped up and pulled a band with
several lenses attached from his belt pouch. Fitting the leather band around
his head and adjusting it so the lenses sat at an angle about his left eye he
bent and peered through the Far Sighter.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Is this still fixed where you saw the – ahh – anomaly?” He asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Yes, sir!” The young man responded.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Pulling back just slightly from the end of the Sighter Aether
lowered one of the lenses in front of his eye, then another. Some of the lenses
were colored – red, blue, and green – but the ones he manipulated first were
clear.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Ah, Aether? What – ?” Bertold began.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Clear ones are magnifiers. They add to the strength of the Far
Sighter. Colored ones remove certain bands of color from the light spectrum,
show things that are hard to see.” He answered Bertold’s question before it was
completely asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Flicking another magnifier between his eye and the Sighter he
paused, then lowered the red lens. After a moment of concentrated frowning he
flicked down the blue lens. Bertold saw Aether’s shoulders tense and he tensed
with him. When Aether straightened and turned, a wolf’s grin lit his face.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“We have thirty minutes but I believe we can surprise them. I hope
you have what I need to manufacture the advantage we now undoubtedly have.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Aether, if we can catch or kill these pirates, I’m all for it.”
Bertold returned that vulpine grin as he clapped his friend on the shoulder.
“Let’s go root out what you need.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Twenty minutes later the forward windows in the Pilot’s Cabin, the
Steersman’s Bridge, and the Forecastle Cannon had a deep violet wash to them.
Aether had blended some red and blue inks with a special concoction of his own
that created a dark violet color which, when applied to the windows, cut out
the violet band of the light spectrum. It increased contrast between darks and
made similarly colored or pattered things easier to see.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“So, if it’s colored like the clouds, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">why </i>can we now see it?” Bertold frowned out the Steersman’s Bridge
window at the still difficult to see pirate ship riding the winds in front of
the storm clouds.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“No matter how close in color two things are to the naked eye,
even to the point we can’t distinguish it, it will never be an exact match.
Removing certain bands of color in the light spectrum helps us to see those
differences.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“So, why do most of the
ship’s parts still seem to be invisible?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“There’s only one way to get a perfect match.” Aether shook his
head in admiration. “Someone figured out how to create a mirrored surface that
doesn’t require the whole ship to be covered in heavy glass. That surface is
reflecting the clouds to ‘cloak’ the ship from view. We need to capture that
ship rather than destroy it, Bertold.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“It’ll be tough, ‘Ther.” Bertold stared out at the clouds before
turning back. “They won’t want to be captured.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“True. But, we have two huge advantages. They don’t know we can
see them and anticipate what is no longer a surprise attack.” Aether pointed
out.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“And the second advantage?” Bertold hitched an eyebrow,
half-anticipating the reply.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“We have a couple of ‘retired’ pirates on our side who are more
than capable of out-thinking these young sky pups.” That wolfish grin returned.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Bertold stared at Aether a long, tense moment before an answering
grin worked across his face and a laugh worked its way up from his belly. After
a few moments of much needed merriment, Bertold clapped Aether on the shoulder
for the second time that day. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“We’ll catch them, ‘Ther. And we have more help than you know.”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Don’t bet on it, Bertold.” Aether murmured as they laid their
final plans.</span></span></div>
The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-83618844988329555962015-02-24T15:31:00.001-08:002015-03-10T09:53:36.524-07:00The Maker's War ~ The Saga Continues<span style="color: #fce5cd;">Aaaaaand, it's time for Chapter Two in "The Maker's War" Steampunk Serial ~ we follow Professor Aether as he attempts to learn more about this Brass Maker, even though time isn't necessarily on his side. We find him waiting for an appointment with the Brass Master at the Metal Makers College:</span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;"><span style="color: black;">CHAPTER TWO<br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">(The Calling)</span></span><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]-->
<!--[endif]--></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Standing in the
side court of the Metal Maker’s College Aether watched a Gold Master show his
First Year students how to locate and Call forth gold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The students’ faces were screwed up as they
attempted to imitate their teacher and call the gold. The teacher happened to
catch Aether’s eyes and grinned. The First Years’ were always unintentionally
humorous in attempting their first Calling.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Aether grinned
back even as he heard soft footsteps approaching. He turned, consciously
keeping the arm muscles of his right arm relaxed. He was safe in the Makers
Colleges, it wouldn’t be good to accidentally set off the Armtraption strapped
under his coat sleeve. He relaxed further as he recognized the Sixth Year who was
approaching as the intern for the Brass Master. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Professor
Aether?” the student intern confirmed he’d found who he was looking for. “The
Brass Master will gladly see you. He is in his garden and asks you to join him
there.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Nodding, Aether
smiled. “Thank you.” And he followed the young man as he led him past various
courts that had classrooms facing out onto them. Some had their windows open so
the teachers lecture floated out on the still air. Some were sealed tight so no
elements leaked free as students experimented with their various Makers’ Gifts.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">After a walk of
several minutes the intern paused at an iron gated shaped into beautiful
scrolls and flutes, accented with every metal known to Makers. Opening it, the
intern gestured Aether through with a slight bow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He closed the gate gently as Aether stepped
forward.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Aether?” Boomed
a rich, resonate voice. “I’m with the mint and rosemary. C’mon back.” The
speaker’s tones rolled out, full and round, from further in the garden.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">With a slight
smile, Aether walked through the lush greenery toward the voice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I hear you’re
looking for a former student of mine.” The voice continued. “Has she done
something to land her in trouble?”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“No, Brass
Master. No trouble.” Aether responded formally.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">He rounded a
Bleeding Heart bush just as the Brass Master snorted loudly and forcefully
enough to blow flower heads off the lavender plant he was tending. He turned
and eyed Aether, then seemed to look inward for a moment before focusing on his
guest again.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“There’s no one
around. You can drop the formality, brother.” He eyed Aether tolerantly. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Have to be sure
you receive the respect due your rank, Theller. Never let it be said a simple
Inventor failed in all the civilities due one of your rank and position.” He
responded solemnly, fighting a laugh.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Theller rolled
his eyes. “You’re never going to let that go, are you.” He stated. “He’s a
pompous twit and doesn’t know we’re brothers.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“He’s your
assistant.” Aether pointed out.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“He’s excellent
at his job. He’s still a pompous twit.” Theller waved a hand. “You do that to
me every time. You’d think I’d learn by now.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Aether let loose
the laugh. “I hope not. I love hearing you admit Toller is a pompous twit.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Another snort
and Theller turned a gaze of a similar shade of blue as Aether’s his way, once
more solemn. “So, why are you seeking one of my former students? What’s going
on, ‘Ther?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">With a sigh,
Aether brought him up to date on all the King and his Messenger had told
him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By the time he was done, Theller
was twisting a corner of his beard as he frowned at the bed of rosemary in
front of him.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“And they’re
sure of this?” he clarified.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“As sure as they
can be.” Aether nodded. “Something blocks the full vision of the Chief Sight
Maker. She claims this Brass Maker can open a Portal to another… <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">place </i>…and those beings who reside there
can see what our Sight Makers cannot.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Theller sighed.
“Yes, but there’s a tale to this Brass Maker.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“There always
is.” Aether’s reply was wry. “Will you help me? Will you tell me what I need to
know in order to gain her cooperation?”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Yes, I think I
will.” He stood and wiped his hands on his mud-streaked garden apron. “Let’s go
in, I’ll clean up and we’ll have tea while I tell you what you need to know.”
And he turned and led the way into his home.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>******************************************************<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ten minutes
later, Aether wandered through his brother’s library as he awaited his return.
Nearing the door, he heard voices and moved closer to try to hear better,
unashamedly eavesdropping.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“…since we were
kids, Toller. Long before anyone received rank of any sort. He is allowed to
continue that friendship.” Came Theller’s exasperated tones.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Aether grinned,
realizing Toller had complained about Aether’s being left, untended, in
Theller’s Inner Sanctum.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“My lord,
please, he is beneath you in both rank and personage. A mere <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Inventor </i>claiming friendship with the
Grand Brass Master!” Toller’s voice, contrary to his personality, was a pleasant
baritone. If he weren’t so concerned with currying the favor of those of rank,
he would be a tolerable fellow. But he judged a person on perceived rank, never
bothering to look past that to the person beneath. Rank was all that mattered,
not the person and what they might contribute to Society, great or small. It
was one of the reasons Aether enjoyed baiting Toler. The pompous prig!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Toller, I’m
going to tell you something that, as my Personal Assistant, you’re required to
keep in confidence.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“My lord, have I
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">ever </i>failed in any of my duties,
least of all the keeping of any confidentialities required?” Toller managed to
both whine and sniff in offense.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Aether winced
and silently begged Theller to not reveal their relationship.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“As young men,
Professor Aether Pendragon saved my life. The circumstances are unimportant and
you don’t need to know them. Suffice it to say, that deed gives Aether the
right to anything within my power to give him. He wants my friendship, nothing
more. Treating him as kin is no difficulty and I will continue to do so until
he no longer wants to be friends which your behavior and attitude, I might add,
may bring about sooner rather than later.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“My lord!”
Toller gasped.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“If that’s not
enough, let me point out one small matter to your rank-mad little mind.”
Theller continued relentlessly. “He is a Diploma’d Professor at the Inventor’s <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Guild</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">College</st1:placetype></st1:place>,
and a Master Inventor. In rank, he is far above a mere personal assistant, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">even </i>the<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>Grand Master Maker’s assistant who, may I say, treats him with
much greater deference than you. You should take lessons.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">There was
silence but, by this point, Aether was laughing so hard –and trying his best to
hold it in – he was shaking from head to toe and could barely hear Toller’s
reply when he finally spoke.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Well, with all
respect to the Grand Master Maker, his assistant is not known for her
discernment of a person’s character.” He spoke in a slightly conciliatory tone
but Aether still had to slap a hand over his mouth to muffle the guffaws.
“However,” Toller continued, oblivious to Theller’s gargled non-response. “Due
to this… Inventors sagacity in knowing how valuable your life is, and saving
it, I will make every attempt to be more… tolerant, my lord.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Finally,
Theller’s voice came. “Please, Aether. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Please
</i>let me say it.” He begged.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“What –“ Toller
began<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>but, still laughing, Aether threw
open the library door, startling Toller.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“You! What… were
you listening!?” he demanded.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Of course. I
was practicing the time honored art of eavesdropping. One learns so much that
way. Oh, don’t frown, Toller. I’ve caught you at it often enough.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I… why, you… I
nev-… how dare you, you In<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">ven</i>tor!”
Toller drew himself up to his full, thin-shanked height.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Suddenly weary
of the sniping at what had always been considered an honorable profession,
Aether locked gazes with Theller and nodded.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">With a smile of
combined relief at getting to tell the truth and malice for the shock his
pompous assistant was about to receive, Theller called him to order sharply.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Toller!” he
barked. To his credit, Toller snapped his mouth shut and turned to Theller.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Toller, you
know who I am, correct?”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Sir, you are
the Grand Brass Master of the Makers’ College.” He replied.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“What else?”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">With a slightly
smug glance at Aether, Toller replied. “You are the younger brother to His
Majesty, Selinger Pendragon.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Theller stepped
closer to Aether. With a smug smile of his own he made his announcement. “This
man, too, is His Majesty’s younger brother.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">It took a moment
for the information to filter through Toller’s inflexible brain, then his jaw
fell, his pupils dilated, and his face paled.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“And my elder
brother.” Theller added, causing Toller’s jaw to snap shut so hard Aether was
certain he heard his teeth crack.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“I’ll hear no
more about rank, Guilds, or who is a better judge of men from you ever again,
Toller.” Theller was somber, now. “You never know who is what or where they’re
from. Most of a discreet character tend to keep things quiet.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“As well, if
others learn of Aether’s real relation to me, I will know it comes from you and
you will be fired without a reference. Are we clear?”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“I…I… yes, my
lord. My lords.” He corrected himself.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Professor
Aether will do, Toller, without the snide tone or remarks.” Theller corrected.
“I’m very serious about your dismissal if, by your word or actions, Aether’s
identity is revealed.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Of course, my
lord. I will go make sure the tea is ready.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He turned to go, and then paused. “My lord, does the Grand Master’s
assistant know?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“The Lady von
Greyson does not judge worth on rank but on character.” Toller stated. As a
look of superiority entered Toller’s eyes, he finished. “However, she has been
a friend of the royal family for years. We were all children together.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Toller’s face fell
and he nodded, and then left. Theller expelled a breath and turned to his
brother. “Let’s sit and wait until our tea is served before we continue our
conversation.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">As they headed
for the chairs by the fireplace he cocked an eye at Aether. “Have you really
caught him eavesdropping?”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Trying to. Your
doors are too thick unless both parties are standing right next to it.” Aether
shrugged.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Theller was
scowling as he seated himself in the comfortable brown leather chair he
preferred. “I may need to have a further discussion with him. Eavesdropping!”
he finished in exasperation.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Oh, let it go,
Thel. It’s how an excellent personal assistant anticipates his masters’ needs.”
He sighed and stretched out his legs toward the empty fire place as he adjusted
the dark brown, serge kilt he wore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I
think we’ve got more to worry about if Meirnath is right.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Just then Toller
returned with a footman carrying the tea tray. Clearing the small table between
the two men, Toller motioned the footman to set the tray down carefully and
dismissed him. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Anything else,
my lord?” He paused and then added in just the right tone of reluctant
deference. “Professor?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Both men smiled
brief approval as Theller answered for both. “No, Toller. That will be all.
I’ll ring if we need anything. Otherwise, please see no one disturbs us.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“My lord.” He
bowed and left.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Aether gave
Theller a grin. “He does learn fast, I’ll give him that.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Chuckling as he poured tea for both of them, Theller handed a cup
to Aether and sat back. Aether sipped from his cup as he settled back and
waited for Theller to gather his thoughts.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">“Several years ago,” Theller finally began. “A young woman came to
the Maker’s College. She was vibrant, excited, and enthusiastic. She had a
little ability in many areas of Makering but had a special affinity for brass.
It took her no time to learn to Call brass, to form and shape it to her Call
and will. She could do things with it, and her Maker’s Fire, none of us had
seen before. Eventually, she could Call other metals, though brass remained her
greatest skill.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“One day, she attempted to merge and meld several metals in one
Calling. It was beautiful to watch as each piece melded seamlessly into the
other, following her will as she formed them in her Fire. But…” he
paused, then shook his head. “I’m still not sure what, but something else
happened. No one else has figured out what, exactly, she did that day,
either.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">“While she was still forming all the bits together a… a <i>blackness</i>
formed in the midst of the piece. The blackness seemed to grow and gather into
itself and every gear in every mechanism in every building on campus began to
run, even if they’d never run a day since their creation.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“While we were still confused by all the commotion going on she
screamed – like one in the throes of a fiend-filled nightmare. It silenced
every person for three classrooms in all directions and we looked at her. She
was staring at that blackness and, in the center of it all, we saw an eye.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">“An eye?” Aether interrupted.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“A devilish eye.” Theller confirmed. “A sickly green at the outer
edge of the iris shading to a bright gold at the pupil. The lids and
surrounding skin we could see were a dark, frightening, scaled red.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">“What was it?” Aether asked, leaning forward intently.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Theller paused, struggling for words, then sighed. “It was alive.”<br />
<br />
“Alive?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">A smile tugged briefly at Theller’s lips. “You sound like a
parrot, ‘Ther. Yes, alive. That’s all I can say about it with certainty. It
blinked its lids and looked around at all of us before focusing on my young
student. None of us heard anything but it was apparent it spoke to her. Her
face paled and her lips moved though no sound emerged. The next moment the
entire creation imploded, knocking everyone in the room unconscious from the
change in pressure. When we came to, my student still lay on the floor,
alive, eyes open but no spark of consciousness there.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“It took two days with the doctors and nurses fussing over her for
her to awake and then it was to immediate and prolonged screaming. They had to
sedate her to stop the screams, though she still groaned and thrashed in her
sleep as if in continued terror. Not even the school’s Sight Maker could
reach her.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">“We finally called the Guild Master of the Sight Maker’s
College. She closed herself in the room with her for a half a day. When
she emerged she was pale and a residual terror lingered in her eyes. She told
me my student was better and that she had a touch of the Sight Maker gift in
her blood. That, during her Calling of the metals, she had managed to make
another Calling to another…. call it a dimension.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 12pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Dimension?” Aether interrupted once more. The fingers
twisting his eyebrow stilled and he straightened. “A world existing beside ours
as the Thealodes suggest is possible?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">Theller shrugged. “I am a Brass Maker, no more. I leave such
theories to Sight Makers and Thealodes. I’m only telling you what the Guild
Master said.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Anyway, I was told my student had Called into another dimension
and… something… responded. We don’t know what.” He forestalled Aether’s next
question. “The Guild Master told us the… Being touched my students mind, asked
why he was Called. Frightened, not knowing such a Calling was even possible,
she had frozen. The… Being then told her the time would come when she would
Call others of his kind to battle an enemy from within. They would be allies,
but they could only show the evil that might befall us, not how to defeat it or
who would win. We would need to learn the ways of War and how to turn defeat to
victory.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Then the Guild Master said the skills my student would need to
learn for this were not here, but the Sight Maker’s College and she would be
transferred there.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">“You let her go? Without a fight, not even an argument?” Aether
raised an eyebrow in surprise. “That’s not like you, Thel.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Theller shrugged. “It’s difficult to argue with the Sight Maker
Guild Master.” He replied with a twisted smile. “When she wants something, one
obeys. Politely.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">“Scarier than Meirnath?” Aether prodded at an obvious sore spot
with his brother. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Yes!” Theller snapped, then chuckled. “And you’d do well to
remember that, should you chance to meet her. Back to the story?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">“Y’know, you’ve never mentioned your students name. Just referred
to her time and again as ‘my student’. I’m assuming she does have one?”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Yes, yes.” Theller waved a hand airily. “I’m just…”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">“Possessive of her?” Aether suggested.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Sounds like you’re in love with her. At
least a little.” He added hastily at Theller’s sharp look.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Slumping a bit further down in his chair Theller nodded just
slightly. “We all were, to some degree. She had the kind of open, honest, pure,
sweet personality that draws people to her. Makes them love her even if it’s
just a little bit. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">“As to her name, well,” he paused with a reminiscent smile. “We
called her ‘Steamy’ for a short time because her last name is Steamington, but
it didn’t stick. Her affinity for brass soon had the other students calling her
Brassy, or Dr. Brassy when her skills grew, and Brassy Steamington she became.
She reveled in it, actually, and refused to answer to her original name, only
Brassy.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“Hm.” Aether gave his brother a humorously skeptical look but
forbore any further teasing. “So, it appears I need to go to the Sight Maker’s
College, next. Anyone I ought to speak to regarding this Brassy Steamington?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">“Well, our youngest sister, Merither, is there, as you know, and
is now a Fourth Level Sight Maker.” He smiled with quiet pride. “She can
probably tell you better than I who can help you learn more about Brassy. But,
why ask more questions, ‘Ther? You’ve learned the basics, you know where she
is, why not just go?”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Once more slouched in his chair, fingers busily twisting his
eyebrow, Aether frowned slightly. “I can’t really give you a good answer to
that, Thel. It seems like the right thing to do.” He abruptly slapped his
thighs and stood. “You’ve got a point, though. I’ll speak to our sister and see
what she says. Fourth Level, now? She’s doing well.” He smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">Theller grinned. “Yes. Father’s near impossible with pride.” He
chuckled. “Let’s eat dinner, get a good night’s sleep, and we’ll tackle our
little sister tomorrow.” He rose, stretching to relieve cramped muscles.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“We?” Aether looked at his brother in question.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">Nodding, Theller reached out, pulled him from the comfort of the
chair, and shoved him toward the door. “We!” He repeated firmly. “You don’t
think you get to have<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> all </i>the fun, do
you?”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">The brothers argued amicably all the way to dinner over who would
be going where.</span> </div>
The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-90084333022659724882015-01-13T13:00:00.000-08:002015-01-13T13:00:39.185-08:00The Maker Wars<div style="text-align: left;">
As promised, the next installment of my Steampunk adventure. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: normal;"> CHAPTER ONE </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: normal;">~ THE INVENTOR'S COIL ~</span></div>
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">Saint Obispo. A small coastal town situated atop pink and honey colored granite cliffs rising from the Great Green Sea, it boasted the largest number of Inventors and Makers Colleges per capita of all the towns and villages in Calidonia. The stone and wood buildings glimmered a warm pink and honey in the sunshine, a pale echo of the cliffs where the city so proudly stood. Here, the citizens of Saint Obispo felt they were safe for they were protected as much by the cliff-side inaccessibility as they were by the firm but benevolent rule of King Pendragon. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">Saint Obispo was the jewel in Pendragon’s crown for the Makers and Inventors coming from her Colleges were the best, brightest, and most talented in his kingdom. It was also the epicenter of the king’s intelligence gathering society, the FS&GS or the Fellowship of Seers & Guardians Society. And, lately, what they’d had to say had the king worried. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">Near the outer edge of the town, on the side away from the cliffs, was a small, well kept, middle-class suburb. The homes here looked both well-loved and well-lived in. Small, steam powered wagons were parked in front of some of the homes and each home had well-oiled gears to assist in opening and closing shutters or storm doors on the rare occasions the weather turned to hurricanes. At the moment, steam belched gently from the steam stacks of several homes where folks were working on their daily chores.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">One home in the middle of this bucolic suburb stood out as markedly different. It, too, had well-tended lawns and oiled gears on shutter and door. It, too, had steam belching from its numerous steam stacks but there was nothing gentle about most of them. Steam shot out at a near shriek from several of the metal pipes emerging at odd angles from the roof and even a couple of the cottage walls. Loud noises could be heard from deep within the house at any time of the night or day, although enough neighbors had complained they needed their sleep that the owner tried hard to dampen the noises after 9 o’clock of the evening. Still, they didn’t always stop completely. He was lucky his neighbors were actually a fairly good humored lot and, also luckily for him, inclined to ignore the worst of the owner’s peccadillos as he was a Master Inventor and he tended to ask them to test his inventions before they hit the market. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">It was before this house a King’s Messenger rode up in a non-descript, steam-powered Delivery Wagon. He looked like nothing more than a run-of-the-mill package delivery man and no one who saw him would ever guess otherwise. He parked and stared at this cottage a moment in concerned wonder. This was where His Royal Majesty wanted him to Deliver? One of the steam stacks loosed a piercing whistle and the Messenger nearly tripped as he was climbing down from his wagon. He glanced around but no one came running to see what had happened or what caused the noise so he had to believe this… this… sound was a normal enough occurrence for them that they tended to ignore it when it happened. Shaking his head, he went to the rear of his wagon and lifted out his crated Delivery, then turned and sauntered casually to the front door.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">Just as he lifted his hand to knock he heard another high-pitched whistle, like steam makes escaping a crack just before an explosion, and he ducked reflexively. Rather than an explosion, he heard the sound of someone loudly berating wood, steam, gears, and Inventing in general, all accompanied by the sounds of loud thuds and slams as the whistle slowly abated. Still startled, but with a job to do, the Messenger cleared his throat, raised his hand once more, and knocked firmly on the door before him.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">“No! I don’t want any more cookies!” Hollered a muffled but definitely masculine and highly irritated voice from within. The same one that had, moments ago, been expounding on the follies of Inventing. “Nor do I have anything to donate. Go away! I’m busy!”</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">Blinking in confusion the Messenger hesitated, then glanced around. Seeing no one nearby he knocked again, more firmly than before. A loud *clang* sounded from within followed by a complete and heavy silence for several long moments. This silence was followed by a rhythmic clomping that got progressively louder before stopping on the other side of the door. The door was abruptly yanked open and the Messenger found himself confronted by a scowling man of average height with light brown hair high-lighted by streaks of white and strawberry blond, some of which stood out as if he'd run a hand through it in distraction. He was scowling at the Messenger through a pair of gold, round, wire rimmed glasses which perched on the end of what could only be described as an inquisitive nose. His white and brown goatee fairly quivered with irritation as he demanded “Well? What!”</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">“I… the… there’s…” the Messenger, for the first time in his exemplary career for the King, found himself at a loss. The man wasn’t intimidating in and of himself, but the pure irritation at being interrupted seemed to emanate from him like a physical blow. He spoke again.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">“Unless you’re selling Thin Mints, you are not welcome here. State your business and be gone or I will assist you in your going.” he barked.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">The Messenger noticed the man had his left hand on a lever and some sort of Armtraption on his right arm. It appeared to be weaponized, what with the copper and brass coils and the tubing that wrapped around it and led up under his sleeve, and the man was flexing his fingers. Despite its cumbersome appearance, the man moved with the ease of one who wore it often and long. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">“Well? Which is it? Are you selling Thin Mints or are you leaving?”</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">This time, the Messenger saw a twinkle in the man’s blue eyes and the slightest twitch to his lips. Clearing his throat the Messenger found his official voice and managed to state his business.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">“I am here with a message from His Royal Majesty, King Selinger Pendragon, to Inventor Aether Pendragon.”</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">The man blinked, lowering his left hand from the lever and relaxing his right as he absorbed this information, realizing the man on his porch must be a Royal Messenger. One who is never ignored for he spoke the very words of the King, himself.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">“I see. Please, come in.” His tone turned respectful and he widened the door, waving the Messenger inside. “I do apologize for my earlier behavior. I’m always getting salesmen or the local kids knocking on my door to sell me something right in the middle of my work. Here we go, this way, please.” And he led the way into his front room.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">It was clearly meant to be a sitting room with windows for the light and a view of what would normally be the garden but seemed to hold odd bits of metal statuary and half-built models. Inside the room, every table top, most of the chairs, and the buffet were stacked or stuffed with books and papers in what appeared to be a haphazard manner while objects that appeared to be in the beginning stages of creation sat on top of the remaining chairs, some of the book stacks, or on what floor space was left with gears and wire coils of all types of metal strewn between them. Only a few appeared to be completed but the Messenger had no idea what they might do. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">The walls had been stripped of their decorative paper and painted over with something like the chalkboards teachers and professors used in classrooms to write on for their students. There were drawings, diagrams, equations, and notations everywhere and they made absolutely no sense to the Messenger. The scope of the mathematics and schematics were dizzying. Even as he tried to read them he could feel a headache starting behind his eyes. He was almost grateful when his host turned to him.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">“The message, sir?” Aether asked.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">“I must be sure I am speaking to Inventor Aether Pendragon, sir. I was given strict instructions that these Words were for him, alone.” The Messenger spoke severely. "And, you must admit, the name Pendragon is not that uncommon in the kingdom." </span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">With a sigh, his host turned to a small table with so many papers piled on top they appeared in danger of sliding everywhere at the least breeze or featheriest touch. Somehow, and the Messenger almost suspected magic, the papers not only remained in place but yielded what their owner sought. He turned back and flourished a set of Travel Papers with his name and likeness stamped on them along with a clear representation of his signature.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">The Messenger smiled. “I apologize, Professor Pendragon. His Majesty was most insistent in his instructions.”</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">Aether smiled slightly. “Believe it or not, I do understand, lad. The message?”</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">Glancing around for a clear surface, he was startled when Aether swept the papers off the very table he’d just dug through for his proof of identity. Setting them with precarious indifference atop another table piled with books, he gestured toward the now-free side table. The Messenger settled the crate atop its gleaming mahogany surface and handed the key to Aether.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">“I will wait in the hall, Professor. His Royal Majesty said the message was for you, only. But, he did give me personal instructions in case you had any questions.”</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">Aether lifted an eyebrow at this. ‘Personal instructions’ meant that the King’s Messenger had undergone hypnosis and had no idea what the king had said to him. It was buried in his subconscious and could only be retrieved by a trigger known only to the Messenger when it was needed by the person it was for. Until that time, as far as the Messenger was concerned, it didn’t exist. If it wasn’t needed, then the ‘personal instructions’ would never exist. It was the one sure way to keep enemies of Calidonia from getting information meant for the king’s agents. If a Messenger were captured and was unable to escape, his body and its systems would shut down and he would die. Each Messenger knew this, and each Messenger was willing to serve his king. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">Aether nodded and the Messenger left the room, closing the door tightly behind him. Aether stared at the crate that nearly covered the small side table, weighing the key in his hand. What did Selinger want now? Knowing there was only one way to find out, Aether sighed and fitted the key into the lock on the crate. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">The sound of gears clicking into place reached Aether’s ears and, for a moment, the box seemed to writhe as the gears moved, then the sides of the box began to slide open and out of the way. Inside was a Gyrospeaker, an instrument not unlike a gyroscope in that it had, depending on its’ complexity, two to three rings on top of a simply etched gold box. This particular box had four rings. Within the rings hovered a round knob of sterling silver loosely wrapped with thin copper wires. Once set in motion the Gyrospeaker’s rings would begin a rapid spinning and a picture of the sender would be projected into the air above the rings with the recorded message emerging from a Speech Box. It was expensive and normally used only by the very wealthy or an extremely serious situation. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">Pressing the Receptor Switch to start the process, Aether went to clean off a chair as the gears began to warm up. He settled into the chair before the Gyrospeaker, running a hand over the smooth wood of the chairs’ arm while he waited for the gears to reach message speed. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">Soon, the whining from the gears reached the proper speed and the rings began spinning in opposition to each other. They produced a static charge that bounced off the sterling knob and copper wire, then shot into the air above the spinning rings. As Aether watched, a face began to take form over the rings and a panel in front of the box folded aside so the Speech Box could slide forward. As it did, the King’s mouth began to move and his voice emerged from the Speech Box. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">“Hello, Brother. Greetings and all that royal protocol we’re supposed to indulge in. Let’s don’t, but say we did.” He grinned and Aether couldn’t help but chuckle in response to their childhood saying for not doing what they ought. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">Then the king sobered. “I need your help, ‘Ther, but, it’s very likely to be dangerous. Before I even tell you what I need, know you are free to refuse.” He paused and glanced down. “This is hard, ‘Ther, because you’re the only one I can trust with this and to do this, but you’re still my little brother.” Aether winced even as his brother’s image looked up again to add with a slight smile. “No matter how old you become or how amazing an Inventor you are.” </span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">He sobered again. “Something’s coming, Aether. Something evil. My Sight Makers can’t See what it is and only know it’s coming from both the Far South and from within.”</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">By now, Aether had slouched down in the chair, one arm crossed over his chest to support the other as he reached up and twisted the hairs of one eyebrow, a habit he’d begun in childhood whenever he was contemplating something intensely. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">“There is one hope, Aether. My chief Sight Maker, Meirnath, has spoken of a Brass Maker who has a rare skill we may be able to use. She can create small portals between our world and another that Meirnath is too terrified to describe. Apparently whatever lives there has Sight beyond that of even our greatest Sight Makers.” He paused.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">“I don’t know if this is the right road to take, Aether, but it seems right. I need you to go into the Deep Murk Forest in the Black Ward Mountains and find this Brass Maker. Ask her help in creating these Portals to see if these beings will aide us.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">“Meirnath says you’re the best choice and chance to find this Brass Maker but, as I said, you’re free to refuse. I have other agents I can send, agents trained to survive in the Wilds. The choice is yours. Give your answer to the Messenger. And, yes, he can answer any questions you have. He’s the best Messenger in my service.” Aether’s eyebrows rose at that. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">The king’s hand lifted. “Be well, ‘Ther, whatever you decide. Just choose quickly.”</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">The spinning rings slowed and the King’s face vanished even as Aether raised his hand in response. Once silence returned, Aether sat a few more minutes in continued contemplation, his fingers still twisting his eyebrow. He stared, unseeing, at the now silent Gyrospeaker before abruptly throwing himself from his chair and toward the door. Selinger said the Messenger was not only his best but had answers he might need. As he opened the door to step into the hallway a grin spread across Aether’s face.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: normal;">Yes! An adventure!</span><br />
<br />The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-81335644436855571152014-12-05T12:39:00.001-08:002014-12-17T17:04:11.985-08:00Still Here... And now, Writing CreativityWell! It seems I can't be creative in my bead/jewelry crafting studio at the moment. My dog is still ALL puppy and he STILL thinks I'm his Momma. He saves up all his energy all day (I kid you not, Mr. Mellow all morning and most of the afternoon) and then gets pie-eyed crazy when I come home. He needs a walk, he needs to play, he needs my attention even if he doesn't want to do anything more than chew on his Soothie. I turn my back for even 5 minutes and someone is hollering for me to "come get [my] dog!"<br />
<br />
That said, I've decided to go a slightly different creative route. Those who have seen my poetry know I enjoy writing. I also love trying to write stories but I'm not so great at it. I can do short stories - you know, 300 words or less kind of thing - but it's harder when you start talking novel-length stories. But I want to try. And I've got a pretty cool story in the works. It's inspired by an acquaintance who is a retired Veteran (you know how I feel about our Vets, too!) and he and his wife are very much into the Steampunk genre, Aether Pendragon and his wife Dr. Steamy Brassington (she creates aMAYzing jewelry, among other things, and he makes contraptions!).<br />
<br />
I've already got a short story I wrote on Dr. Brassy and I'm now calling it the Prologue to my story I'm working on about Aether and, I've decided, I want to share them with you. In part, because I've been gone so long and I don't want anyone thinking I've fallen off the edge of the World and, in part, because I can be creative and set it aside easily when I need to "come get your dog!" again. I'm going to try and do this at least once a month. I can't promise more than that right now until my dog is less clingy but also because I take forever to write things. I hand write it out, then I go put it on the computer (making adjustments as I go), then I re-read it and make more adjustment. It's really a never-ending process that I have to force myself to knock off so others can read, if they want to. Which brings me to the Prologue (formerly known as "The Brass Maker's Fire"). Enjoy!<br />
<br />
THE BRASS MAKER'S FIRE<br />
<br />
Deep in the verdant forest sat a cottage of finely burnished wood and metals. The slated roof, covered in deep green moss, was slanted just enough to allow any rain to run off into the catch barrels placed strategically at each corner. Windows, now covered by shutters of a complementary wood and latched by patinaed copper forms, faced both North and South – a most auspicious placement for a Maker.<br />
<br />
Within the cottage a Makeress sat before a Makers Fire concentrating on a gold nugget that floated in the air before her. Eyes the blue of a winter’s lake glowed with an inner fire of their own as an unfelt wind caressed her deep auburn curls while she studied the nugget. To her left sat a small tower made of Zebra wood and fine leather dyed a rich burgundy. Copper, brass, and steel gears showed through the glass encased sides of the tower but no clock face or other obvious reason for the gears was in evidence, yet the wear and grease on the cogs and teeth showed their constant use. To her right was a table with glass bottles of various sizes and holding a multi-hued assortment of liquids. Some carried a seal warning of their dangerous nature. Some had different pieces of metal hanging in their liquids which bubbled and frothed. Some had an extremely pungent aroma.<br />
<br />
The Makeress gracefully lifted her right hand and cupped it just under the floating bit of gold without actually touching it. With her left hand she reached up to the leather band around her forehead and adjusted an eye piece, much like a jeweler’s loupe, down in front of her eye. It began to glow a luminous blue as she leaned forward to carefully examine the gold in detail. Satisfied, she nodded to herself and pushed the loupe away as the glow faded. Still graceful, she gestured with her left hand and the gold floated into the Makers Fire. The flames parted to accept the gold, closing about it and, at the Makeress’s further gesture, the flames turned from gold, to silver, to blue, before they settled to a deep, sunset orange with hints of red and black.<br />
<br />
Chanting softly, the Makeress recited the Words of Calling with careful precision even as her hands sketched the Signs of Binding in the air between her and the Fire. To her left, the gears in the wood and glass tower began to move with smooth, silent efficiency. To her right, a beaker half filled with red liquid, and another with a burnished gold liquid, began to bubble with vigor. Still in her soft voice, she spoke the final words, gently made the final gesture, and a bell’s tones seemed to peel from the gear tower. At its musical, sustained tone the liquids bubbling within the two beakers shot out and into the Makers Fire. A roar resounded from the Fire’s depths, filling the room and rattling the glass on the table and in the tower before it faded away.<br />
<br />
She gestured again and the Fires parted to reveal a transformed piece of gold. It now resembled a nobleman’s pocket watch except there seemed to be a deep hole in its center. Another gesture from her and a tongue of the Makers Fire gently bore it forward to leave it hanging before her eyes once more. The hole now showed what seemed to be a closed eye through it. With a satisfied smile the Makeress whispered. “Awake.”<br />
<br />
The eyelid, a deep burnished orange, slowly blinked open and a red and black iris appeared. The pupil, slit like a cat’s eye – or a dragon’s – seemed to fluctuate before focusing on her, then a voice spoke.<br />
<br />
“Who has Called me?” The voice was at once a deep, rich bass and a musically ringing soprano. So rich its tones seemed to vibrate in the Makeress’s very bones. The Makeress smiled again.<br />
<br />
“I have, Ancient One. Our need is great and you are summoned to aide us in this time.”<br />
<br />
The eye examined the woman.<br />
<br />
“Only me? The need is not so great, then, and you are foolish to waken me.”<br />
<br />
“No, Ancient One. Not you, alone. Many of your brothers and sisters have already been Called and I will Call many more. Will you aide us?”<br />
<br />
“The choice is not mine to make.” The voice rumbled aggressively. “You have made the Calling and created the Binding. I must Answer.”<br />
<br />
“Nay. I hold none against their will. Look. Look deep within and you will see those who chose to aide and those who refused.”<br />
<br />
There was silence as the eye seemed to look inward for many long moments, then it focused on her once more with slightly less suspicion. “I can refuse?”<br />
<br />
She nodded. “With no consequences to you or yours, Ancient One. There is a war coming. Not all can help, or even are willing to do so. I respect that. I only ask you hear before you decide.”<br />
<br />
The eye considered her again before it replied. “Speak, then. Though I offer no great hope. This portal is too small for such as I to Pass Through.”<br />
<br />
“You are not required in your Entire Being. Only the aide of your Sight is needed, if you will grant it.”<br />
<br />
“It would take a strong mind and even stronger will to use the Sight summoned by such as I and my kin. Our visions are rarely a blessing and more of a curse. Nightmares.”<br />
<br />
The Makeress’s smile widened. “Sightmares, we call them. Yes, we know. Many are in training to accept what you show and to learn how to understand and translate what is seen. Only the Wild Ancients have this great and terrible Power. We will learn or die.”<br />
<br />
The eye appeared to smile. “I believe I like you, Little One. I am known as Orick the Feared. How are you called?”<br />
<br />
“I am the Brass Maker.” And the Makeress’s smile filled with satisfaction as she placed the final Binding upon Orick.<br />
<br />
© Copyright 2013 Pam Sears (UN: condorsfan at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-63151978931104123392014-04-04T11:34:00.001-07:002014-04-04T11:44:12.309-07:00Firsts - Attempts & TripsSo, I made my first attempt at forging a copper bracelet. I took some 6g copper wire, annealed it (as much as you can with a hand-held butane torch) and hammered the snot out of it (annealing as needed). I then hammered one area slightly wider than the rest so I could stamp words on it. Once that was complete, I worked and worked to bend a bracelet. I learned several things in this 1st attempt: <br />
1) 6g wire is a <em>bear</em> to work with when it starts to harden. Anneal, anneal, anneal!<br />
2) Having some sort of mandrel to curve &/or hammer your bracelet into shape is a must, you just end up with a fairly rough looking bangle otherwise (still, not <em>too</em> horrible, I wear it proudly!). <br />
3) Use block letters to stamp when you want a long word or a sentence. Cutsie letters are fine for single or simple words, but not so much for a whole sentences. <br />
4) It's gonna take time and effort to get what you're after so don't give up. It <em>can</em> be done, just not (usually) on the 1st try. <br />
<br />
Here are a few photos of my first attempt:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwdB_LQUSnMqbS5URkqRFHqsFC0YIxGBNN1rTc8DHF89C3xqTHl8z9TBeEFJQtyJmRDmhiOwLTARpYk5d9y1uq9qSoQ4K3BXrX46ZVSTtuqrCkMq8amWIOMglFwAX4GpAq8ivVbV7y1WQW/s1600/bracelet2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_lm_943040="null" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwdB_LQUSnMqbS5URkqRFHqsFC0YIxGBNN1rTc8DHF89C3xqTHl8z9TBeEFJQtyJmRDmhiOwLTARpYk5d9y1uq9qSoQ4K3BXrX46ZVSTtuqrCkMq8amWIOMglFwAX4GpAq8ivVbV7y1WQW/s1600/bracelet2.jpg" height="320" width="240" yta="true" /></a></div>
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As you can see, the lettering is hard to read as cutsie swirls. My next attempt will be block letters and I have a few ideas for getting them set where I want instead of just "eyeballing" it. You can also see how rough the (non-)circle of the bangle is.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE2PbgFU7mtE202ax7W8lbXh2wdu-xSzy8zXVDEbwtYM4ShVU4TMHMYp7WWa0vXyA8FQiZL8W4L-mW2vpr6Jz2QyBqcEnunsSL4pS5nxgoAP2tdeUkVR49eJhFfcsK3qrfJ_vIuZjj_ELn/s1600/bracelet1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_lm_943040="null" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE2PbgFU7mtE202ax7W8lbXh2wdu-xSzy8zXVDEbwtYM4ShVU4TMHMYp7WWa0vXyA8FQiZL8W4L-mW2vpr6Jz2QyBqcEnunsSL4pS5nxgoAP2tdeUkVR49eJhFfcsK3qrfJ_vIuZjj_ELn/s1600/bracelet1.jpg" height="320" width="240" yta="true" /></a></div>
Another angle to show the wording and the rough look. I don't mind some "roughness" to my work but I want it to be deliberate, not because I haven't done a good enough job.<br />
HOWEVER!!! In the second pic you'll notice an arrow pointing to a small, soldered area? YES!! I FINALLY WORKED UP THE NERVE TO DO MY FIRST SOLDER JOB!! WOO HOO! You should'a seen me doing the giggly version of the Happy Hamster Dance. Ooooorrrr, maybe not (HA!). ANYwho! I found some no-flux-needed copper solder at Lowe's (in a handy-dandy little syringe-type dispenser) and this is what I used. Obviously it doesn't <em>look </em>copper, but it's apparently for <em>use </em>with copper. I don't care. IT'S MY FIRST JOB! I'll admit, it's a bit rough looking, too, but I STILL DID IT! (giggles ensuing again) I worked those two ends over until they were fairly smooth in bumping against each other, then I applied the paste and then the flame. This is a low-temp solder so my little butane torch was more than adequate. It did take me a couple of tries or so because I didn't let it heat enough to set (I got nervous) but it's solid, now. I've even tried pulling and tugging that area. Nope! Not coming apart. <br />
So, being of a mind to continue in this vein, I have ordered my 1st mandrel from Amazon and I also ordered a pair of black, bending pliers. Supposedly they are good for shaping heavier metals for rings and bracelets. (yes, I'm afraid I'm a bit tool-mad at times!) If you'd like to see them, follow this <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0058EDJMO/ref=oh_details_o02_s00_i00?ie=UTF8&psc=1">link</a>. They looked like a good idea to me so I'll give you a review on them once I've gotten them and tested them out.<br />
<br />
Now, about the "& Trips" part of my title. Saner Sister and I took The Toad on his first road trip over to the coast. We found out the Avila/Pismo area of California is quite pet friendly and, in some cases, beyond welcoming to your furry, four legged friend. The Toad had a ball. Saw his first hotel (Sea Crest in Pismo, for any interested parties, is one of the top places to stay in my opinion), then saw the ocean for the 1st time (wasn't sure <em>what </em>to think of that!) and met several other pooches out enjoying the surf. Wore. Him. OUT! We also enjoyed eating at The Custom House in Avila. They have a patio area where we were able to sit with The Toad and they even have a PET MENU you can order from for your dog! Saner Sister & I laughed, then stopped laughing and ordered The Toad some hotdog (called "Who Let The Dogs Out") which sent him to Toad Dog Heaven. He was quite spoiled on that trip but he had a blast. Here's a few pics of his time over there:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhusB8nDb53i175h0WJnREdelHEKka4VT-xG9WQ1HdF2b1xIpqaI4bxoHqNO5mDp-w1x88nC5yIS9MZCJ8Y0qzrIt6ZOdXWdtaYK8Gd_dbDhCd1dBVta_NHbB7txbmjeqgRsc7LXuXrB7jc/s1600/beach2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" closure_lm_943040="null" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhusB8nDb53i175h0WJnREdelHEKka4VT-xG9WQ1HdF2b1xIpqaI4bxoHqNO5mDp-w1x88nC5yIS9MZCJ8Y0qzrIt6ZOdXWdtaYK8Gd_dbDhCd1dBVta_NHbB7txbmjeqgRsc7LXuXrB7jc/s1600/beach2.jpg" height="320" width="320" yta="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not sure what to think of it all. Top left, loved sniffing the kelp!<br />
Center right, his first encounter with a wavelet. He was having<br />
NONE of it! Meeting friends, of course. Bottom right, watching<br />
crazy humans on surf boards from the pier. Wasn't too crazy <br />
about the pier walk. Wanted <em>off </em>that thing, <em>now</em>!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA2fA-5WKuwy8cSwQ4v72g5k4GN7m9H8AgjbgvWkxKa1gzi5icuyKtQgXlisolQIEggApYfph_i5hLlBdqAzTcVzsbQUmS9UtceKBYCzCGlgvSEGP9iLBp1LAUYhBzQ2XpF39vmZtoPBXB/s1600/beach1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" closure_lm_943040="null" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA2fA-5WKuwy8cSwQ4v72g5k4GN7m9H8AgjbgvWkxKa1gzi5icuyKtQgXlisolQIEggApYfph_i5hLlBdqAzTcVzsbQUmS9UtceKBYCzCGlgvSEGP9iLBp1LAUYhBzQ2XpF39vmZtoPBXB/s1600/beach1.jpg" height="320" width="320" yta="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top left, 1st glimpse of the ocean. Bottom row, having fun<br />
chasing things (birds, waves, other dogs). Middle left,<br />
the look he gave me the day I told him we were getting ready<br />
to go home. Guess he liked getting spoiled being w/Momma<br />
and Saner Sister all day, every day.</td></tr>
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(Saner Sister tho't we'd better get in at least <em>one </em>pic w/the Toad, hence the selfie) So, everyone had fun, The Toad and I got dunked at <em>least </em>once (a wave was higher than we tho't it was going to be) and everyone went home exhausted and happy. Now, back to the routine of the Evil Day Job, walking the Toad (and working on manners, he forgot those with his vacation!), and getting back into the craft room.<br />
<br />
Fun.The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-59553888363064569942014-03-24T15:35:00.002-07:002014-03-24T15:35:44.659-07:00Vacation With Saner Sister & The Beast<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
So, a couple of weekends ago, Saner Sister and I took "The Beast" (aka Zackery, or Z, or Toad... depending) over to Pismo/Avila Beach area. We stayed at the <a href="http://www.seacrestpismo.com/">Sea Crest Motel in Pismo</a> and they are a VERY pet friendly place! By the way, if you decide to stay there, call them direct! Do <em>not</em> use a booking agency. 1) They don't always have all the info you need; the booking agency I got (not realizing it wasn't the hotel itself...duh on me!) first tried to pull a bait-n-switch and get me into another hotel by telling me Sea Crest wasn't pet friendly (and had never been). When I called them on it, they gave me a song & dance about all the pet available rooms being completely booked. (hint: <em>never </em>lie to me when you want my business, I will <em>hang up </em>on you!) I decided to do more research (which included getting the Sea Crest's direct line... it's (805) 773-4608 or (888) 686-7103 to reach them) and found that ALL their rooms are pet friendly! 2) The booking agency doesn't always have the best price. When I called the hotel direct, I ended up saving $20.00 on the per-night price. Nice! </div>
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Suffice it to say, we all had a blast! It was only for a couple of days but it was worth it! Here are some pics of the Beast and his first road trip/vacation: </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR0ULGLD47HvfB1p_NLZertYGsH75ZCvv0Tv1PCLzquoBenjWfz4VyUiup84UjkMujszUW8LnXfn0CZBVJbHXlCSdK17E3blnuZMrMcxNZjryh1Jv7xFb9iajjAMqw_IuLjgpjbOGQ09h8/s1600/beach3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" closure_lm_927141="null" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR0ULGLD47HvfB1p_NLZertYGsH75ZCvv0Tv1PCLzquoBenjWfz4VyUiup84UjkMujszUW8LnXfn0CZBVJbHXlCSdK17E3blnuZMrMcxNZjryh1Jv7xFb9iajjAMqw_IuLjgpjbOGQ09h8/s1600/beach3.jpg" height="320" tta="true" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1st day: various tired out nap positions of The Beast: clockwist from top left,<br />
on Saner Sister, still on her bed, in the car on the way TO Pismo, end of day two <br />
he was hiding from the light I hadn't turned off yet, lying on his back and sacked out.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ZS_mIh6T4kU0UUqxje0E0ksGZDUVgINz8l1bYNm08EvFxTnlWgVtPB2zVQ5h4rt09F7sE8PYWqnsIdlHNW0MCrlLjTxIQREY6mwUYrqnEye-sWOGCMkzcw2Sy9NvRPBw3J23BNFbcO1q/s1600/beach2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" closure_lm_927141="null" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ZS_mIh6T4kU0UUqxje0E0ksGZDUVgINz8l1bYNm08EvFxTnlWgVtPB2zVQ5h4rt09F7sE8PYWqnsIdlHNW0MCrlLjTxIQREY6mwUYrqnEye-sWOGCMkzcw2Sy9NvRPBw3J23BNFbcO1q/s1600/beach2.jpg" height="320" tta="true" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clockwise from top left: 1st experience with kelp, he loved it; not<br />
sure what all that big, cold wet is but it smells... and is cold; bouncing<br />
around the sand chasing gulls; 1st time the water came up and hit him,<br />
he caught air trying to get <em>away </em>from the cold, chasy thing!; watching<br />
surfers off a pier in Avila... he wasn't sure what to think; meeting new<br />
friends (goldens & a mixed breed); sitting on the pier at Avila; not too<br />
sure of getting close to the foamy, cold, chasy stuff.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO7Xh4EHTKTRNVu3ksABva1EhofoEulq48lpMHDiCxPSjF4Cyc48FnZa6IZpiQp3QtH_G81xhMCDOONe6WGKYAGvuVtAWGiliPjN7Ss8DXJWuQTbR6h6Sw5jus-oChz5Nes1NXMkDeYYli/s1600/beach1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" closure_lm_927141="null" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO7Xh4EHTKTRNVu3ksABva1EhofoEulq48lpMHDiCxPSjF4Cyc48FnZa6IZpiQp3QtH_G81xhMCDOONe6WGKYAGvuVtAWGiliPjN7Ss8DXJWuQTbR6h6Sw5jus-oChz5Nes1NXMkDeYYli/s1600/beach1.jpg" height="320" tta="true" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clockwise, top left: checked in and first glimpse of the ocean for<br />
The Beast; selfie w/The Beast & Saner Sister; (again on the pier<br />
at Avila... sorry); still napping on Saner Sister; again with the<br />
new friends (he really liked them); having a ball chasing gulls and<br />
new friends; the look he gave me when I said we were going home.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho2sc7wJhusRJ4WSVgfQkPYO-4bvNUXqubiJuznIZent7hQChuSAHCmhwCGso7aTevTZjgn4U-V9WJi15NlH3FZKo45MvZviM3yjqkjM1dNFiz381dlzooZldqizyzNuV5mDZ3EmCeYiQC/s1600/compare.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" closure_lm_927141="null" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho2sc7wJhusRJ4WSVgfQkPYO-4bvNUXqubiJuznIZent7hQChuSAHCmhwCGso7aTevTZjgn4U-V9WJi15NlH3FZKo45MvZviM3yjqkjM1dNFiz381dlzooZldqizyzNuV5mDZ3EmCeYiQC/s1600/compare.jpg" height="320" tta="true" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just a comparison of this giant puppy (who will be a year old<br />
4/11) from when we brought him home at 2.5 months and when<br />
he was asleep on Saner Sister at 11 months. Quite the change (sigh).</td></tr>
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So, that was our vacation. Z had a ball and so did we. Now, back to the old grindstone.The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-46175099313298960092014-03-17T11:32:00.000-07:002014-03-17T11:34:29.678-07:00Creative Spark E-Zine & Spring Challenge<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
A few weeks ago, I mentioned there was a surprise coming up. I may have mentioned beads and Znet Shows (I don't remember at this point) but there were (obviously) beads involved and they were from Znet as a part of a blind Spring Challenge (blind, as in I didn't know <em>what </em>beads I'd be working with until I opened the box they sent). Boy, what a box! It was <em>crammed</em>! It was <em>packed</em>! I got the box and giggled for at least twenty minutes.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A beautiful mix of Spring colors to work with</td></tr>
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There were actually a lot more beads than this, and I made a whole bunch'a earrings, but only so many could be entered in the challenge. You see, they were going to be published in their E-Zine, Creative Spark. YES! ME! WOO HOO!! First time I've ever been published for my hobby. I <em>love </em>beads and I love getting free beads to create with. Znet Shows has some <em>awe</em>some beads to play/work with. Please, take a moment to go <a href="http://glossi.com/CreativeSpark/33732-creative-spark-spring-2014">here</a> to check out their 'zine (I'm featured starting on page 83) and feel free to enjoy the beautiful work of my teammate designers.</div>
The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-58250905926432814012014-03-01T14:02:00.000-08:002014-03-01T14:02:00.759-08:00Spring Cleaning ChallengeI'm not sure what made me sign up for <a href="http://sharylsjewelry.blogspot.com/2014/03/clean-up-fix-up-your-workspace.html">Sharyl McMillian-Nelson's</a> Spring Cleaning Challenge for your studio but, I did. Sadly, I didn't finish my clean up. Here's what happened. <br />
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I am one of those who creates best in a creative mess. Honestly, it just seems to work for me. I didn't get a before shot of my "creative mess" but trust me when I say "mess" was being polite. Yeah. Bad. So I decided to roll up my sleeves and dig in. Oh, and, while I was at it, I was going to move things around. Yeah, <em>that</em> will get me finished EVER so much faster! Anyway, I <em>did</em> think to get a few pictures here and there, so let me share those!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrfx3enmiw_SdFo598ChME8le1eVP5u_4T_XKUyb-yCOnUj8iZTVC__SEaBnv2JcYrdmybA9j62v_hSloAkhlJ8OQXBvGzje-vzaQMU2gdKxGrcSPhSrrGqZIqFMKds7OmbxK8uXsWltKs/s1600/BdMTtUXCcAAx92n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrfx3enmiw_SdFo598ChME8le1eVP5u_4T_XKUyb-yCOnUj8iZTVC__SEaBnv2JcYrdmybA9j62v_hSloAkhlJ8OQXBvGzje-vzaQMU2gdKxGrcSPhSrrGqZIqFMKds7OmbxK8uXsWltKs/s1600/BdMTtUXCcAAx92n.jpg" height="320" width="239" /></a></div>
Here's the "half-way" point. Notice the sunlight. Yeah. Anyway, it got a lot worse than this before it got better. That walk way to the left was filled with moved stuff before I got everything in place.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhszZo44ReZYWKikaENrqQDoIX6OCNSPyemh9Sv83KTCJqTmoKrE7w1dvc76XDRwbPXEkkEv6lBPMZhN3QMjdW1sYAaH1OKBSopAAoB9HYwwk3k7nep_Qd7YHycHpQKASKkuJKylTRIcxbD/s1600/BdMfjZ9CcAAyxPn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhszZo44ReZYWKikaENrqQDoIX6OCNSPyemh9Sv83KTCJqTmoKrE7w1dvc76XDRwbPXEkkEv6lBPMZhN3QMjdW1sYAaH1OKBSopAAoB9HYwwk3k7nep_Qd7YHycHpQKASKkuJKylTRIcxbD/s1600/BdMfjZ9CcAAyxPn.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
Here was the (nearly) completed and rearranged craft room. I actually managed to get the table cleared off later so there was a nice, clean surface to start over on. I have an area specifically for my torch work and clay (when I get braver) work. I have all those nice little drawer sets to put my papers, extra tools, ribbon, etc. in. I even reorganized my bookshelf to hold my wires, special beads and findings as well as books, drawing pads, & paints. Again, notice the (lack of) sunlight? Yeah, took that long. This was, for me, a day-long project. The procrastinator in me can't do bits and pieces over several days, it has to all be at once. If I don't, I can get distracted by all the things I "find" to play with. Remember that ADOS I've mentioned in other posts? Uh huh. (Attention Deficit Ooh! Shiny! for those of you who've not hear me mention it before). I don't think I've ever been so tired in. my. life!<br />
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Sadly, I didn't get a shot of the <em>completely </em>clean table top and, not long after, I began a new series of projects that required me to make a mess all over again. Here's what it looks like again (sorry, Sharyl, I know this wasn't exactly what you had mind):<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh54OvkIQ4RVRZdO6igcsLPSzjkdABwO6aiwnJ7xcnR1NJKyOQcwwQgidz1j5s1ZYVvtmPW1zxERTuWqVw57EIgInLdsyVfX4ikXWIHN_XvGzxs1co34kx13Df0BCQxREAZHLbCr9VuhpZr/s1600/20140301_120119.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh54OvkIQ4RVRZdO6igcsLPSzjkdABwO6aiwnJ7xcnR1NJKyOQcwwQgidz1j5s1ZYVvtmPW1zxERTuWqVw57EIgInLdsyVfX4ikXWIHN_XvGzxs1co34kx13Df0BCQxREAZHLbCr9VuhpZr/s1600/20140301_120119.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
When I'm working, even when I leave my table to return later (that day, another day, whatever) I leave out what I'm working on because, to me, why make the bed when you're getting right back in that night? Yep! I'm that bad! What I'm working on doesn't require <em>every</em>thing that's sitting there, but what's sitting there might spark an idea so why fight it?!<br />
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Anyway, that's where my table is. The rest of the craft room is still pretty neat from my cleaning spree, but the table is, once again, on it's way to that "creative mess" so many of us live in. But, it's okay, they know us in this world ;)<br />
<br />Please go to <a href="http://sharylsjewelry.blogspot.com/2014/03/clean-up-fix-up-your-workspace.html">Sharyl's page</a> to check out everyone else's pages that participated in this Challenge. I'm sure they did <em>much </em>better at it than I.<br />
The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-36514536603262084092014-02-21T09:04:00.001-08:002014-02-21T09:04:41.751-08:00We're All Ears February Design<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9r37ylUZadGPAsSGPlkNfypzu0QFFFU0PbAEFbGKAz6GIrq0Vf_003KD_jsonq52w95oULWWDp5ux-GCYEHoa3i9GMBtNwz_AcxFwEY8__eJozzr-iORjziZea7Jq4q8GMC_A7aWl8yJK/s1600/beetles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_lm_311919="null" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9r37ylUZadGPAsSGPlkNfypzu0QFFFU0PbAEFbGKAz6GIrq0Vf_003KD_jsonq52w95oULWWDp5ux-GCYEHoa3i9GMBtNwz_AcxFwEY8__eJozzr-iORjziZea7Jq4q8GMC_A7aWl8yJK/s1600/beetles.jpg" height="320" hta="true" width="279" /></a></div>
Oh, no! I almost (well, I <em>did</em>) forgot about Kristi Bowman's February Earring Challenge! I won't make excuses and I'll apologize that I only have the one photo of my earrings. I decided to go with the Damsel Flys as my buggy inspiration. That, and I'm currently having a crush affair with Ancient Egypt so I decided to try something "scarab-y" looking. I know there was only the faaaaaaaintest touch of yellow in the picture Kristi gave us, but my scarabs (such as they are) have yellow bodies, copper "wings" and flower bead caps for the heads. The blue bead is an accent and because it's the closest thing I have to lapis in my hoard. Go <a href="http://dreamsomedesigns.blogspot.com/2014/02/were-all-ears-february-reveal.html">here</a> to check out Kristi's design (and inspiration photo) and see what everyone else has done. (and, next month, I'll try to stay on top of it... and more pics!)The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-54840879442480371302014-02-17T16:53:00.001-08:002014-02-17T16:53:29.594-08:00Spouse To The Creative<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I'm pretty sure this speaks for itself... 'Nuff said!</div>
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The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-32284739904494640922014-02-12T09:43:00.001-08:002014-02-25T21:43:26.415-08:00First Forays<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIakO8nEHHF3iDdcjef8sNTPKYiLdWHxXQ2YRlwPDWtVGQLWqtMGLuiQUgBlJXYd-zPTAIUca0P1ciq1ZlsPubSm6KHYPxOGtNx-FlNw_cDxVqLPs0-8AIRqfbAMy9pUfLPRTCa1kwLoXG/s1600/ring+clay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_lm_144783="null" cua="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIakO8nEHHF3iDdcjef8sNTPKYiLdWHxXQ2YRlwPDWtVGQLWqtMGLuiQUgBlJXYd-zPTAIUca0P1ciq1ZlsPubSm6KHYPxOGtNx-FlNw_cDxVqLPs0-8AIRqfbAMy9pUfLPRTCa1kwLoXG/s1600/ring+clay.jpg" height="301" width="320" /></a></div>
One of the blogs I follow is Carmi Cimicata at <a href="http://resincrafts.blogspot.com/" target="post"><span style="color: #1155cc;">Resin Crafts</span></a> blog. I love seeing all the things she can make with products from Enviortex. Mostly, she creates with their resin but they've recently come out with a new product called Jewelry Clay. You mix the two part clay together and you can use it for just about anything, like, oh, say, attaching two (or more) pieces together. Which is what I did here. <br />
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I saw a suggestion (article? don't remember, now! with my luck it was probably one of Carmi's posts!) about using the BIG, glamorous, flamboyant buttons from the sewing section to make cocktail rings. My last visit to Hobby Lobby yielded quite the button haul and I decided to take a small step into the Envirotex world (I'm still not brave enough to open the resin... chicken!) I was a little concerned at first because I didn't mix a large enough amount but I had no problems adding to it until I had the right amount. The button has a deep curve so I wanted to be <em>sure </em>the clay held it in place! I filled the ring bezel and had a good sized mound of the clay to press the button into. Per Carmi's suggestion, I then took some silver embossing powder I happened to have on hand and brushed it onto the bits of clay you can see underneath (pink arrows!) to help the clay blend with the ring and button. The clay sets after two hours so the ring is wearable after that, but I left it to cure overnight. Here's what I now have to wear on those occasions I'm feeling a bit more show-off-y:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiGX7cfGXIwesBLn5YM0zIlsGiewQA1dV3e3ed-B5_GpQEv-szdnyjaqgGoBDEwmMACJxU2030nJG0ZhAX8c7-Irj796Wx_MXI-HYhMb78W6FV6E_dL96Yu9J8CrllKsktj9wYQSa2SqEg/s1600/20140211_193324.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_lm_144783="null" cua="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiGX7cfGXIwesBLn5YM0zIlsGiewQA1dV3e3ed-B5_GpQEv-szdnyjaqgGoBDEwmMACJxU2030nJG0ZhAX8c7-Irj796Wx_MXI-HYhMb78W6FV6E_dL96Yu9J8CrllKsktj9wYQSa2SqEg/s1600/20140211_193324.jpg" height="260" width="320" /></a></div>
Isn't that the coolest! LERRRRRVE IIIIIT!! So, folks, get a little brave, try something new, and let me know how it turns out. (I plan to try more of this! <em>Must </em>get more ring blanks!) New skills are great to add to your collection of know-how. And check Carmi's <a href="http://resincrafts.blogspot.com/">blog</a> for further knowledge.The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-72408886257869837872014-02-07T08:26:00.000-08:002014-02-07T10:34:12.732-08:00Creative Challenge Answer - Teeth<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvA_-7Oo4kHCzVhvAc1N_AIJklnr-oRh-FayaNCu3626HV7u0JcAWZ_XNn6zISoYMlKWvTEdYyq4PQTYMzJE-tTXjN3DMuowsPox0e3BgydWGCV5rfxPtGJ9TGs7qdO3kqb4WW9_Hm99qG/s1600/TEETH.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_lm_896622="null" cua="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvA_-7Oo4kHCzVhvAc1N_AIJklnr-oRh-FayaNCu3626HV7u0JcAWZ_XNn6zISoYMlKWvTEdYyq4PQTYMzJE-tTXjN3DMuowsPox0e3BgydWGCV5rfxPtGJ9TGs7qdO3kqb4WW9_Hm99qG/s1600/TEETH.jpg" height="238" width="320" /></a></div>
Today is the reveal for the <a href="http://crazycreativecorner.blogspot.com/2014/02/a-creative-challenge-to-all.html">Creative Writing Challenge</a> in my previous post. I hope many of you will join me with links to your Creative Writing blog or FB Page but, if not, I still have a Creative Writing post to share. The prompt was/is the photo of the teeth ring above. Here's mine: (no title, yet)<br />
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Hands on hips, Jayda surveyed the sight around her. Signs of carnage were everywhere; splintered chairs, upended tables, shattered glass, and people listing against walls for support as they gazed around in blank confusion through swollen eyes. Several of those doing the listing had split lips and swollen or, in two cases, broken jaws. Blood, teeth, and other bodily fluids were sprayed about in a disgusting mural of violence.<br />
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With a sigh Jayda stepped fully into the bar. She'd never understand why humans thought getting drunk and maiming one another was considered a fun time but she had a clean up job to do. Moving carefully, she began picking up the teeth lying in various spots around the room. Some were in easy to reach places, others she had to crawl under, over, or around obstacles to reach. She even looked up at one point, having learned long ago that teeth could get into very strange places. Sure enough, one was stuck in a ceiling tile. A cynical smile tilted her lips when she saw it. She'd love to know how <em>that </em>had happened.<br />
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With a slight shrug a pair of nearly translucent wings unfurled from her back. She wasn't overly concerned about the remaining humans seeing her as she lifted off the ground to retrieve the errant tooth. They were still drunk enough, or concussed enough from the fight, they'd refuse to believe what they saw as more than an hallucination. <br />
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Besides, it was her job to collect all the teeth so they could be used in their jewelry designs. What else would a Tooth Fairy use in barter, after all?The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-47029449747700294472014-02-05T09:55:00.000-08:002014-02-05T09:55:01.803-08:00A Creative Challenge To All<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhROmU8EmjmPFGfZl1V_22O-siiLWdXvoZmyzAaui8LOMuWPhXih_PuPefrf_ZXvk1nYayYjKnvaE9ZD0P9JPWflGOWwWQnkrwxgeEA-VJUVATBoH5ngy4_dnnPC3OSUa2yESliko-nYP0F/s1600/TEETH.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_lm_535508="null" cua="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhROmU8EmjmPFGfZl1V_22O-siiLWdXvoZmyzAaui8LOMuWPhXih_PuPefrf_ZXvk1nYayYjKnvaE9ZD0P9JPWflGOWwWQnkrwxgeEA-VJUVATBoH5ngy4_dnnPC3OSUa2yESliko-nYP0F/s1600/TEETH.jpg" height="238" width="320" /></a></div>
Bet'cher wondering what THIS is all about! Welp! I've been reading, lately, on several of the blogs I follow (as well as number of FB pal's pages) that there is a dearth of creativity. Mental blockage has occured. The Muse has gone on vacation. The heart rending question of "what do YOU do to counteract this inspirational drought?" has popped up everywhere. Well, here's what you do; something else.<br />
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No, really, something else that exercises your creative muscles, but has <em>nothing </em>to do with your normal creative exercises, will (usually) bring the inspirational rains. Draw. Do some Creative Writing (with a limit on # of words). Play an instrument (that's usually soothing). Take photographs of odd things you wouldn't normally take. Dance.<br />
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Here's my contribution and a Challenge to all who read this: this week, you must write a short story about the above pictured ring and post it to your blog. Here are the rules; 1) no more that 250 words. Period (I will count!) 2) It can be any genre of creative writing you want except erotica (this is a family friendly blog, keep it G or PG). 3) You must post it to your blog or FB page by Friday, the 7th of February (yes, short time frame, but it kick-starts the inspirations). 4) You may put a link to your blog or FB page in the comments section of this post for us to follow and read.<br />
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That's it! Hope y'all take up the challenge. I'll do the same and we'll see what the Muse inspires. Have fun! And see you Friday Evening for the Creative Writing Reveal!<br />
The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-3921835871753621202014-01-30T08:54:00.001-08:002014-01-30T08:54:12.738-08:00Thinking....I did manage to get into my craft studio on Tuesday evening, but I didn't actually get anything done. Oh, I played. I learned that embossing powder won't "melt" onto metal (no matter how close you hold the heat gun) but the powder *will* go everywhere. My own, personal "Color Run" without the run! (hee) I looked at my jewelry clay from Envirotex Lite and pulled out some bezels and pictures to make jewelry... then chickened out... for now! I'll get back to it, I swear! Maybe I'll be braver tonight? If nothing else, I should pull out some of my copper wires and make headpins. I need more and I certainly enjoy the melting and making of them (it's the Pyro in me). So, no pics today, but maybe later? When I screw my courage back up to just jump in and DO IT instead of thinking too much.The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-13780198511102838432014-01-27T12:50:00.000-08:002014-01-27T12:50:12.400-08:00Playing and Amusing the Muse<div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
So, this weekend (I'm counting Friday night, here) I experimented with something new... well, new to me. Ice Enamels! I really do like them! I have turquoise, a sort-of chartreuse green, and a clear/opalescent set of colors.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4xBhGwULaaM3c8YBef3GV15Jr1vK2qIcorHfECgClUl5H3lCpEmdwzm9hFo67KxuQDRCPBc6l9mYcVchGq0BkHDC3_QMje_huJ5LfBPilJe4orXvW_cDl3VNJI8cg1fCbWUvL9ZZ3koIY/s1600/donutbead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_lm_606308="null" cua="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4xBhGwULaaM3c8YBef3GV15Jr1vK2qIcorHfECgClUl5H3lCpEmdwzm9hFo67KxuQDRCPBc6l9mYcVchGq0BkHDC3_QMje_huJ5LfBPilJe4orXvW_cDl3VNJI8cg1fCbWUvL9ZZ3koIY/s1600/donutbead.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
This first one is a steel washer I layered with turquoise, then added some small pieces of the chartreuse color and a teeeeeeensie bit of the opalescent (no, sorry, don't remember to precise names... I'll add 'em later) I really like how this turned out. And I haven't done anything else to it, no resin topping or anything. Cool, no?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY24KJ_BUKPiWudNz9T4TGumhWYY-RbMbPUiHMo4lnw7KmBANhL7sE2vZn5AW8Wf9redYOiqFcX_JfuQkvM2rOX_RaaIEKUjXLwyxqtsWv2lujacHguz_Er5RZr0NLPLpUiRBX-Gi2wW6n/s1600/dragonflybead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_lm_606308="null" cua="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY24KJ_BUKPiWudNz9T4TGumhWYY-RbMbPUiHMo4lnw7KmBANhL7sE2vZn5AW8Wf9redYOiqFcX_JfuQkvM2rOX_RaaIEKUjXLwyxqtsWv2lujacHguz_Er5RZr0NLPLpUiRBX-Gi2wW6n/s1600/dragonflybead.jpg" height="257" width="320" /></a></div>
This one... well, it didn't work as well. I don't know if I got too excited, or just straight up too messy with my work, but it blotted in a few places on the wings and slid off around the dragonfly where it's attached to the shell casing. Still, I think I may be able to do some clean up if I take my time with it. More experimentation is in order. Yes. <br />
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I'll keep you updated as I make further attempts.</div>
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What new things did YOU try this weekend, hm?</div>
The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-68894712313958912522014-01-16T10:28:00.000-08:002014-01-16T10:31:24.391-08:00Why Creative People Are A Puzzle To Others<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVsfmrLVsmiEXQL6e4k62O4voDIgVqjFnFJWnbRw57rCNbkSlZdEO16kuCslVSMCAMbGFLtL0I87wNCfmG11j7iWICN1dn1ZXSTj8Fd0qQyUWTZD3LjfWdcbIW28PDoDGJ7be4jatb3qB-/s1600/crazy2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_lm_248888="null" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVsfmrLVsmiEXQL6e4k62O4voDIgVqjFnFJWnbRw57rCNbkSlZdEO16kuCslVSMCAMbGFLtL0I87wNCfmG11j7iWICN1dn1ZXSTj8Fd0qQyUWTZD3LjfWdcbIW28PDoDGJ7be4jatb3qB-/s1600/crazy2.jpg" height="238" hua="true" width="320" /></a></div>
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I have, in my youth, been accused of being a "schizophrenic thinker" and I have to agree. If you have a conversation with me, we're going to chase conversational rabbits. We may start out talking about Mary Shelly's Frankenstein Monster and end up twenty minutes later discussing why Curly Joe was the best Globetrotter player over Meadowlark Lemon. 0_o* HOW did we get from monsters to basketball? Because something was said that lead down one rabbet trail to another to another until we reached Curly Joe (which would, eventually, lead to Curly as the best of the 3 Stooges, ever! Just ignore Shemp and Joe - although I'll take Shemp over Joe any day... SEE?!?)<br />
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I'm very much the same in my creative efforts. I play the piano (not as well as I should, but I do), I write, I create with beads, metal, and (someday) poly clay and have my eye on metal clay, I draw & paint (again, not as well as I should/could, but I do), I play with a camera & photography.... Again, with the schizophrenic thinking, eh? Show of hands, how many of you are just as schizophrenic in your creativity? Well, guess what? This is normal for us! <br />
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Not that being like this ever bothered me. No one ever made fun of me for it so I never thought about it. Apparently my friends are either as crazy as me or just enjoy the ride. That being said, let me share a link to an article I saw on my FB news feed the other day. It was written by Matthew Schuler and he found a book written by Mihaly Csikszentmihaly called <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0060928204/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0060928204&linkCode=as2&tag=fulleryouthin-20" target="_blank"><em>Creativity: The Work and Lives of 91 Eminent People</em></a>. Matthew gives us a few of the highlights from Mihaly's work including this line; “<em>I have devoted 30 years of research to how creative people live and work, to make more understandable the mysterious process by which they come up with new ideas and new things. If I had to express in one word what makes their personalities different from others, it’s complexity. They show tendencies of thought and action that in most people are segregated. They contain contradictory extremes; instead of being an individual, each of them is a multitude.</em>”<br />
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As I read through the 9 contradictory traits described by Mihaly, my first reaction to each was "No, that's not me." But, as I read the full discription (not just the start) I realized that, a) yes, it did <em>too</em> fit me and, b) I really <em>am</em> a "multitude". Well, a multitude of ideas and thoughts and need to do's. Go read Matthew's article <a href="http://www.matthewschuler.co/why-creative-people-sometimes-make-no-sense/">here</a> and find out just how much of yourself is a mulititude. Learn why we're such a puzzle to the (supposedly) "Normal People."<br />
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Creative people really do live in our own little world, but it's okay. They know us here.<br />
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The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765155368374923191.post-16762761573826312762014-01-14T10:45:00.000-08:002014-01-14T10:46:03.842-08:00Keeping the Muse Satisfied<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So, I didn't get to play with my poly-clay this weekend. Too much was going on for me to be abl to do it. HOWsomeEVER! Last night I was able to play with my wire. Yes, my fellow Crazy Creators, I have made my first ever fibula! I am SO proud of me right now, I could bust!!<br />
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So! I used the bottom of one of my tool holding buckets to create the initial circular shape, then smoothed the shape slightly with my nylon jawed bracelet forming plyers, then hand tightened the circle. I wire wrapped some faceted, Tanzenite colored crystals to the circle, then created the pin and attached more beads. The pin is (it's been suggested) too long so I have plans to lop off about 1/4" and refile the point. Other than that, I'm happy with it. <br />
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Now, why did I choose the beads, etc. that I did? Well, there's a story. I have a series of jewelry called my "Fishes & Loaves" line that is taken from the story in the Bible where Jesus fed the 5,000 with a little boy's donated lunch of five loaves of bread and two small fish. In the past this has mostly been fish-shaped earrings with five beads (3 on one fish & 2 on the other), a couple of bracelets with the fish motif and five beads wired on, and at least one necklace with the fish & beads (which I loved!). This time, I wanted to finish the story. See, after everyone had been fed, Jesus told His disciples to take up the leftovers. They returned with twelve full baskets. Bet that little boy's momma was shocked! (yes, I believe it went to the boy... after all, it was <em>his </em>lunch given to Jesus to use... why wouldn't Jesus reward his generosity?) ANYway, you'll see there's 5 small, purple round beads and two tiny fish on the straight pin. There's the fish & loaves. If you count, you'll find there are 12 beads on the main portion of the fibula... they represent the 12 baskets of leftovers taken up. The end of the story (as it were).<br />
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I'm sure this will evolve in other ways (already have an idea or two) so keep watching. After all, my Muse is speaking to me, I must keep her happy!The Crazy Creative Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15845268710994121175noreply@blogger.com1