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Description
It started one misty morning with a warm cup of coffee.
The bronze swirled on the paper, mixing with the raw umbers and the burnt sienna. The heavy mahogany door began to take form, etching itself into existence-fixing itself into being as a portal to lands that have been lost to time and technology.
I sip my coffee again-another pillar is formed. Camel hair and wood sing archways into being. Oh, ancient gods, I call-may the lands that lie beyond these painted walls of stone be your place of rest and respite, I will meet you on the other side. Be at peace, and weep no more for legends past and histories lost-we will write new stories and new legends-together.
Heavy stone. Brick and mortar and flourishes. I touch rough concrete with human fingertips, while my tongue languishes in the heavy taste of caramel and cocoa. Whereas where I sit is dull and lifeless-a dull and quiet day-the world beyond waits for the protest of rust-covered hinges. Beyond this door lies vibrant sunlight. I can hear the birds chirping on the other side-and a loud, protesting squak; perhaps a frustrated scrub jay.
The doors are tangible now-the deep grooves in it's surface tell of years of wear by wind, rain, and sun; the handle's casting is chipped and flaking. I wonder; how many other souls have passed through these doors? How many have come to dwell in the land of the gods? How many imprints will there be on the dirt paths within Lemuria?
Once a grand city, now the abode pf artisans and their muses. The voices beyond the walls are heard to whisper.
" Join us." call honeyed tongues, and I smile.
"Coming." I call back, and push open the doors.
----
Advent prompt over at Soul Food Cafe. This is the first on the calender; "Portals", in which your supposed to envision the doorway to the artisan world, 'Lemuria'.
Done in my Moleskine, watercolor and acrylic on paper.
The bronze swirled on the paper, mixing with the raw umbers and the burnt sienna. The heavy mahogany door began to take form, etching itself into existence-fixing itself into being as a portal to lands that have been lost to time and technology.
I sip my coffee again-another pillar is formed. Camel hair and wood sing archways into being. Oh, ancient gods, I call-may the lands that lie beyond these painted walls of stone be your place of rest and respite, I will meet you on the other side. Be at peace, and weep no more for legends past and histories lost-we will write new stories and new legends-together.
Heavy stone. Brick and mortar and flourishes. I touch rough concrete with human fingertips, while my tongue languishes in the heavy taste of caramel and cocoa. Whereas where I sit is dull and lifeless-a dull and quiet day-the world beyond waits for the protest of rust-covered hinges. Beyond this door lies vibrant sunlight. I can hear the birds chirping on the other side-and a loud, protesting squak; perhaps a frustrated scrub jay.
The doors are tangible now-the deep grooves in it's surface tell of years of wear by wind, rain, and sun; the handle's casting is chipped and flaking. I wonder; how many other souls have passed through these doors? How many have come to dwell in the land of the gods? How many imprints will there be on the dirt paths within Lemuria?
Once a grand city, now the abode pf artisans and their muses. The voices beyond the walls are heard to whisper.
" Join us." call honeyed tongues, and I smile.
"Coming." I call back, and push open the doors.
----
Advent prompt over at Soul Food Cafe. This is the first on the calender; "Portals", in which your supposed to envision the doorway to the artisan world, 'Lemuria'.
Done in my Moleskine, watercolor and acrylic on paper.
Image size
763x1043px 1.29 MB
© 2010 - 2024 bamfandblueberry
Comments4
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Very nice! I'm surprised the Moleskine can hold watercolors so well. 