We are continuing our exploration of the artifacts retrieved from the estate of Jared Cash. Our latest exhibit appears to be from his printmaking years, which were largely experimental. Much of his work in this time period is largely abstract. This is one of very few pieces that depict clearly a figure, that of an archer.
Though the figure is partially deconstructed and jumbled, the piece quite clearly depicts an archer nocking an arrow and drawing back to fire. Who is this archer? What is his foe? What deeper meaning exists beneath the surface of this print?
Scholars have long wondered at the history of Cash’s childhood, before the Reckoning began and we came to understand him as a figure of great renown. Before his rise to prominence, little is known of the man. Some believe the fire he revealed during the Reckoning was exhibited in his childhood, which we hope to discover here with our continued foray into his earlier works.
One thing is certain, however. The answers we seek may be lost to time entirely. With the apparent demise of Jared Cash and the destruction of his estate at the hands of extremists, only those artifacts recovered from the rubble and in the hands of private collectors are left to grant us insight into the history of the Archon.
For the public record, I will be photographing and sharing items recovered from the estate of Jared Cash. As this is a matter of public interest, these items will be presented sometimes without explanation. Determination of value of these exhibits is ongoing, but all works will be considered priceless until otherwise noted.
Little is known of Cash’s artistic endeavours during his tenure at Graceland University, but we do have a rare specimen here, indeed. Records from before the Reckoning are incomplete, but it is believed this carving was for the high school Cash attended, as writings have indicated his early life in an unnamed farming community in Kansas. Additional research into the location and history of Smallville, Kansas is ongoing.
from heaven above, beneath, and among,
these dark waters filled this world
if some dæmon in love bewrayeth more woe,
what shall betiden of necessity make?
till thou com’st home, thy sweet voice afar confounds me.
— Written with assistance from the Creative Writer keyboard app for iOS.
I’m quite enjoying this app. A friend of mine sent me one of her poems last week, and it was very beautiful—far more beautiful than my own, in afraid. I’ll have to ask her permission to share it.
Anyway, I performed edits to this one after it was finished, as some of the word choices I was given this time were the wrong tense or worked well if there was another word placed before it that had not been offered. The coolest thing, though, is how well it gets the mind turning. I could very easily see poems born entirely of this app by someone that knows not what they wish to write, but that discovers it upon looking at the words they have writ.
i will never forget july,
and all the little emptiness it creates
for her love was mine
and all the world was bright
The above poem was written using Creative Writer, an iPhone app that replaces the keyboard with a list of words that are suggested based on context (kind of like iOS’s QuickType feature on steroids). Be sure and check it out.
Well, now. I suppose it was only a matter of time.
No one can run forever.
I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly, waiting for the telltale click of the hammer-release, microseconds before darkness. But it didn’t come. I began to sweat.
No one should be forced to know their demise is imminent and then be made to wait. It is an unbearable torment to know your time on this plane has come to an end, yet listen to the ticking of the clock on the wall delaying the inevitable. This cancer in my mind gnawed at my sanity as the seconds slipped past.
I continued to exhale the remaining air from my lungs. Soon, I would need to take another breath. What a cruel fate to know that I might be interrupted by an ounce of hot lead caroming around inside my skull, tearing chunks of nervous tissue and compressing them into a useless pool of viscera.
I sucked in air. My calm was officially gone. I suppressed a scream of outrage at my treatment. To know that death had come to escort me hence and to stand, impatiently staring at my wristwatch while he chats up the receptionist was infuriating. Doesn’t he know that I have places to be? This isn’t his lunch break. He doesn’t get to decide my time has come and then push the appointment back by an hour!
I forcibly expelled all the air from my lungs again, this time refusing to draw another breath. If the gunman won’t pull the trigger, I’ll pass out from temporary asphyxiation. Then, at least, I won’t have to wait any longer for the finale. I can sleep right through it.
“It’s a dangerous world, son. One that should not be traversed lightly. When the sun goes down, you best be home. Safe inside with doors locked. There are few places left of peace. Bright pinpoints of light in the darkness. Best to be in one when the darkness comes calling. But even those places are fewer and farther between than they once were. The world is changing. Growing cruel and dark. You must be strong. But not yet. Not yet. For now, you must be safe.
Don’t worry, son. The darkness won’t come here. There’s a tale, you see. An old tale. There’s a reason that bright places like Homewood still exist. A very special reason. For centuries, they’ve watched over us. The grey sentinels. Watched over us and kept the darkness at bay. You remember that. When all hope seems lost and the gruekin come scratching at your door, the grey sentinel will save us. The Shepherd protects his flock.”
I took the time to write up a few more #WednesdayChallenge entries this week. The theme was “Childhood”, which I sort of experimented with quite a lot for my first post. The second was more traditional, however.
UPDATE (2013/10/21): I wrote another one today, so I decided to toss it up here, too.
If you missed last week’s #WednesdayChallenge post that explains what it is, you can check it out here.