Showing posts with label Angel Fish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Angel Fish. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
The Aklonomicon: Quality Reading for the Entire Family... If Your Family is Anything Like Mine
Either Ives and I are the parents of the decade and deserve some sort of award (I'd settle for a coffee mug proclaiming "#1 Dad!"), or criminally negligent sociopaths who need to be immediately incarcerated.
I guess we'll know in a few years once Fish figures out that it's cool to hate her parents. As for now, she's 7 going on eternal and in love with everything in a benign world full of flowers, butterflies, and friendly creatures from beyond the stars.
Anyway, here is our daughter enjoying a little light reading before bedtime. She chuckles at the "really scary parts", and digs all the "awesome!" artwork. And even though she begged, I just won't allow her to read my story "In the Cave, She Sang," because, well... A cozy yarn about Charlie Manson traipsing through Death Valley, high on mescaline and pondering the end of humanity, replete with "f words" and "adult activities" that HBO would brand as "SC", just isn't something I want to shoehorn into that amazing mind of hers that is so filled with magic and light and true belief in all the good things in the Universe. Maybe I'll let her read "Flutes." The dangers of secretive underground atom smashers sounds child-friendly enough, right? Okay, we'll keep her on a steady diet of Shel Silverstein, for now...
"Creating a monster" doesn't even come close to describing what's going down at Grau Haus. When Fish takes over the world, I just pray that she goes easy on her ol' pops. Maybe this picture will be "Exhibit A." In what context the exhibit is presented (court room or stay of dictatorial execution) remains to be seen...
Monday, March 7, 2011
Horror is Where the Home Is: Shots of The Cosmicomicon Muses of Grau Haus
Every writer needs a Muse. Beethoven's Immortal Beloved. Shakespeare's Dark Lady.
I'm lucky enough to have Two. Behold, the Muses of Grau Haus, in pictures taken during the last, fateful 24 hours:
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| When I was her age, my heroes were Jacques Cousteau and Gary Gygax. Hers is Wednesday Adams. Angel for the win. |
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| In writing the noir book of our lives, there is always a beautiful dame who gets it in the end... |
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| .... then makes the papers, the gossip scandal sheets, the morbid curiosity crowd. And thus is she immortalized in song and verse, living on forever in dreams, long after her flesh fades away. |
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