Flashback response: Elise's Dad

There honestly were a lot of potential drawings that came to mind when reading Flashback.  But out of all of them, the one that stood out in my head the most was the image of Elise's father, his grinning face with a cap covering his eyes.  I'm sure I will work on other scenes, but I felt that I had to do this one first.

Flashback

Elise craned her neck to look up at her father, blinking through the heavy clumps of snow that floated to the ground as if some great goose had flown out of its down coat and left it to scatter to pieces.  The clouds that shrouded the sun transformed its yellow rays to white, making Elise's eyes strain at her father's head against the background of the lumpy sky.  Despite the minor irritation, her eyes never left the back of his slightly swaying winter cap, careful not to arouse suspicion for her sneaking silence.  She quietly crunched the snow beneath her feet at twice his steps' pace, trying to fall into his rhythm to mask her frantically pounding heart.  Her plan just might succeed! The compacted snow between her purple mittens would shrink no further--the weapon was ready.

"Hey, Daddy!" she shouted, betrayed by her eagerness.  She took aim as he slowly rotated to face his daughter.  Her arm was taught, ready to snap the snowball right into his chest.  One more moment, and it'll be a bulls-eye, a picture-perfect shot.

But he was smiling an ear-to-ear grin as he faced her.  His joy broke her concentration.  In his left hand, his gloved fingers pinched a beautiful flower by its stem.  Its petals long and full, like a flowing tapestry dotted with stars.  Elise audibly gasped and relaxed her arm.  Her father laughed heartily.  Because the cap covered the eyebrows above his squinting eyes, his face appeared to be one great smile.

"It's called Waker's Whim, Ellie.  I found it in a bush we passed." Elise was captivated and was walking forward, snowball still in-hand.  Elise, in a trance, continued onward until she stood in her father's shadow.  She eagerly exchanged her snowball for the flower to grasp in both tiny hands.  "Aw, Ellie, is this for me?"  She didn't respond.  Her eyes had gone wide watching the petals delicately caught each snowflake and displayed them proudly, almost self-aware of its own beauty.

"Daddy... it's so pretty!"  There was a pause of silence instead of response.

"Hey Ellie..." he trailed off mischievously.  She tore her attention away to lift her gaze upward and look at him.  She didn't know he dropped the snowball until it scattered across her winter cap with a muffled splash. After she wiped off the soft snow, she looked ahead to see her father crouched in front of her, smiling.

"Let's go home, princess."  She grabbed his finger with one hand and held the Waker's Whim in the other, and together they forged the path home.

Those were good memories.

Green Pallet Response

Verse:

I'm a glutton for pain
But I mean me no harm
I've been counting the days since I left

I'm troubled in ways
That I'd hate to admit
I'd strike up a smile if I could

Don’t worry ‘bout me
You’ve your life to live
I’m only between the living and dead

Please turn away
I’m sorry to say
Go on, I’m gonna be fine

Chorus:

Call out to me
I’m nowhere and nothing to see
I don’t know why I stay

Oh Heaven’s gates don’t shine for me
They don’t hold a torch to your eyes
I reach out to you, but all I can do
Is grasp at a moment it time.

12-22-12: Pallet of green

Variations!

Purple Flower Response

The wild brush of the jungle resisted her straining arms as she trudged deeper into the unknown.  It was not so much the push-back of any singular plant that fatigued her, but rather the entirety of the thick branches and leaves that impeded the makeshift path and swallowed all; even sound could not escape its humming din and help but be stifled by its hot, sticky air.  She may as well have been a sacrificial offering to some great beast of legend.  The way she hollowly struggled onward, hopeless, resolved in  her fate. The beast--the forest--was magnanimous, slow as the shift of time, yet irrefutably alive.  And she was only partly so.  Elise felt so broken.

At times, she would become painfully aware of her raspy breaths, shaky and brittle from tears.  Her whimpers would otherwise have been frighteningly audible, but it didn't matter; she could rile the monster and be consumed for all she cared.  Elise willed herself onward unafraid of her compulsion into danger.  She did not seek direction.  She did not seek safety.  She was fleeing.  Fleeing to anywhere or anything that would allow her to leave the hell unknowingly far behind now.  Her mind drifted as her legs stumbled further into the hungry gullet of the forest.


Elise craned her neck to look up at her father, blinking through the heavy clumps of snow that floated to the ground as if some great goose had flown out of its down coat and left it to scatter to pieces.

*Okay, moving onward. I'm at a loss for what emotions I want to craft from this next scene (but actually "how?" is the larger question) to contrast the death of her father and connect the flower to her childhood.  Maybe I'll link this to a hallucination for her reconciling growing up? Maybe that's too cliche.  I'll come back to this.


-Joseph 

12-19-12

Introductions

Hello, Chep.

The blog we talked about in the last 24 hours is officially created!

Yay!!!

How's that for being motivated? =D

Official doodle #1 is coming up shortly!