Art Work, The Future, Reading and Mourning

I am now a single man after 29 years of marriage.   I am an artist and a loner.  I am a writer and a seeker of new vistas beyond the range of normal human perception.  I attempt to always see the world through the eyes of a cat or a bird.  I am the wind in the trees when there is the approach of a storm.  I am the silent dawn before the first orange fires pierce those murky clouds, the residue of dreams gathered by millions of souls.  I am the gentle sobbing of the lolling Lilly, the murmur of a stream over moss covered rock on an April noon.  I am the grey skies of storm, the lingering haze of mist on the hills and valleys of a summer swelter at sunset.  I am alone.  I am not a creature of the Internet yet I understand that in order to know others in this modern world one must participate in the electronic realm or suffer in silence.  So here I am after a long struggle to save something I found sacred, my marriage to a woman of inspiration and insight.  I have learned a lot since the days of my awakening.  I now employ my abilities and when I am able I will display art that might confound the normal perception.  I remember once showing my work to a psychiatrist with worry that he would think I was out of my mind but he was impressed.  Now if only I could learn to scan, paste and cut, all the trades of the modern day artist wanting to share their strange vision. 

     I am reading a book by Rick Yancey titled "The Isle of Blood".  A tremendous effort on this authors part, his third of the Monstrumologist series.  His first book "The Monstrumologist" stirred embers of darkness and Goth, Mary Shelly meets Edgar Alan Poe and H.P. Lovecraft for a conjuring of stark horror and vivid blood chilling vision.  I highly recommend the first and third books of Yancey's series.  His 2nd book, The Curse of the Windingo was not as riveting but did pay homage to Algernon Blackwood so I thought it was special in this light alone. 

     Algernon Blackwood to me was the one author of many I have read who came close to unlocking the doors of cosmic perception and the weird.  He was the one who taught me to listen to the wind at night as it coursed through the trees.  He taught me that my church was the forest.  I live in the forest now.  I am back to speaking with those towering sentinels.  I am the man whom the trees loved.  I am the keeper of cats and birds, living in harmony with nature, the realm of wood land spirit and rolling hills.  If your read Blackwood, read him aloud, without your Internet gadgets nearby.  Read his tales such as The Temptation of The Clay, The Glamour of The Snow, The Man Whom The Trees Loved, Ancient Sorcery's, or the excellent cosmic journey which is undertaken in The Willows.  You will not soon forget this body of work by one once known as the Ghost Man. 

      In closing, with the afterthought about Rick Yancey's work, I will say his work rivals the ancient gas-light era horror and his dialogue between the characters is superlative.  It is a series to make one gasp and laugh in the same page.  I will give a full book review of Yancey's "The Isle of Blood" upon completion. 

     I now retire to the crypt of memory.  I retire from the mainstream of life Immortal.  I am a shadowed person.  I have become obscured, forgotten and now face isolation I have not known for nearly 30 years.  Something I once embraced I now dread.  I will learn to love my silent realm once again.  I am a spirit in the midst of human corruption and utter decay.  I am the ghost in the hall watching you without me.  I am alone.

The Inspiration for my Blog Title "The Autumn People"

Ray Bradbury's first book published was titled "Dark Carnival" and came from Sauk City Wisconsin under the title Arkham House.  Dark Carnival has been an obscure title since its publication.  It was a sort of Holy Grail for me until I finally obtained a copy from Guantlet Press which is signed by the author.  The Arkham House editions still fetch a handsome price as well.  Dark Carnival was also re-issued as "The October Country" with some tales removed and other new ones added.  The illustrator of this book was Joseph Mugnaini.  The October Country has seen countless pressings and I have enjoyed it many a time in both reading and listening. One can obtain recordings of some of these tales being done in radio plays under the title "Bradbury 13".  I used to play the story "The Wind" on our stereo with the lights turned out and to this day my daughter Rachel still remembers the creepy sounds that this particular play produced not to mention the haunting theme of the worlds winds being a collective of souls captured in various storms over time thus giving it the voices and howling sounds of lost souls one can imagine on a night alone in a drafty house as a storm rages out beyond.  In the October Country there is a preface and with kind permission I will quote Ray Bradbury.  It reads thus;

  "....that country where it is always turning late in the year.  That country where the hills are fog and the rivers are mist; where noon's go quickly, dusk's and twilight's linger, and mid-nights stay.  That country composed in the main of cellars, sub-cellars, coal-bins, closets, attics, and pantries faced away from the sun.  That country whose people are autumn people, thinking only autumn thoughts.  Whose people passing at night on the empty walks sound like rain....."

   And so that is why I picked the Autumn People for the name of my blog.  And now back to thinking my autumn thoughts while rain comes and goes out beyond in the wooded realm of my valley where the trees stand tall and the shade is seemingly endless.  Pleasant dreams...................