Monday, April 26, 2010

Metropolis Page


A page a small shot of the workspace. 


V.G. progress

V. has added some more panels to connect the actions happening in the panels. 

Second story finished by Gene Fitness.

Story 2. 
app. 6' x 4.5'. Acrylic on canvas.


rm1

The bold eventually make their way here. Preying on the solitary and detached. The impudent and independent. 
It is only a matter of time befor I tire of their habits,
useful as they are.

The bold eventually make their way here. Moving like ghosts among us,  they keep my children from forgetting

it is only a matter of time before habit dulls instinct, and sacrifice makes us stronger.

end rm1


RM 2
--
The bold eventually come to understand. I have studied their strengths well.

 Like an arrow to the heart, they realize their fate
when they see their boldness in their prey


room2


 On Old Earth, eagles were very dangerous predators. They had razor-sharp claws that could easily rend flesh from bone. Even more advantageous was a specialized skin cell--called feathers--with which they could lift themselves into the skies.  This ability to strike, out of thin air, forced the eagles' prey to be constantly vigilant out of fear for their own lives. 

Human hunters made up for their lack of specialized natural abilities by their prowess in making and using tools. By using the eagles' feather structures as stabilizers for projectiles, a hunter could strike from distances outside the range of awareness of their prey, and even more importantly: beyond the reach of retribution. From that point on, even the eagle feared the hunter. 





This is the original aesop fable from which I created the story
  The Eagle and the Arrow


  An Eagle was soaring through the air when suddenly it heard
the whizz of an Arrow, and felt itself wounded to death.  Slowly
it fluttered down to the earth, with its life-blood pouring out of
it.  Looking down upon the Arrow with which it had been pierced,
it found that the shaft of the Arrow had been feathered with one
of its own plumes.  "Alas!" it cried, as it died,


 "We often give our enemies the means for our own destruction."