#CanvasStory

[yesadanlerma]

March 26, 2021 - Interesting Tweets This Morning

March 26, 2021 – Interesting Tweets This Morning

Angel ©Felipe Adan Lermahttps://felipeadan-lerma.pixels.com/featured/8×8-intimate-spaces-angel-felipe-adan-lerma.html*Related blog postSold Three Small Pieces at Donn’s Depot Christmas Bazaar 2019! ❤️ I figured, for the header image, I’ll just post one of my pics that appeals to me that day, why not!Below are random tweets I liked for some reason – uplifting, funny, inspiring, informative,…

[deepali93-blog1]

#post9 He is a painter of his thoughts. His brain is though occupied with her mesh memories which overturns his happiness. (@silentspeaker) #newwriter #instagramwriters #writerofinstagram #instadaily #likeandcomment #likeforlike #commentandfollow #followforfollow #repost #pouringwordsontopaper #everydaypost #snippets #musing #canvasstories #deepalibaghel #follow4follow #wordgasm #wordporn

[canvaswolfdoll]

My Scars

So, it’s been a little while since that essay about comics i used to draw during school, and since then my desire to post a weekly essay has not exactly worked out. To be fair, I’ve also been working on a full length play for a scriptwriting class (it’s about Tabletop RPGs! Because I’m horribly predictable.) I have also haven’t really watched/read anything I can properly review. I mean, I’ve started watching the last season of Parks&Recs, and that’s been okay, and I’ve been rewatching Daria.[1] No ongoing campaigns to whine about over at SepiaDice, I’m a slow reader so I can’t ripoff Down the Stacks. Game playing has also been minimal for between work and class.

However, I do need to write my daily 500 words, so might as well do something here.

So this week I’ll talk about how I got my facial scars! Those are fun stories, right?

Now, I know what you’re thinking: ‘Canvas! I didn’t know you had facial scars! Is that why you talk funny?’

Well, surprisingly rude hypothetical reader, the reason you may not have known that is not just because I don’t post pictures of myself, but also because they ended up in two independant places now covered with hair: under my lower lip and my right eyebrow.

Going chronologically, let’s begin with my lower lip.

Interesting tidbit! I wasn’t aware it was a scar! I just assumed, for the longest time, that ever one had a little rough bit between their mouth and chin. Like a belly button or that indentation on your upper lip. It’s just a thing you had. Then my mother casually referred to it one day, and I was all ‘Oooh, my face isn’t normal! Guess that makes sense!’

I don’t get to examine other people’s face often, okay? Give me a break.

Another fun tidbit: the same time i found out it was a scar, I learned me and my mother remembered to half halves of the story, unaware of the other half.

So, it happened I was very young. Super young. I want to say four or three years old? Very young.

So, my family acquired a swingset from someone, presumably someone from church, don’t really know and the thing’s gone now.

So this swingset was not great. Plastic slide on one side, weird trapeze thing, and two swing which were basically flat plastic bricks suspended from two chains attached basically right nbext to the edge of the seats. So it was already a minor death trap.

So, my dad placed this thing in our backyard. dug holes to put the cement coated bottom of thee poles in, got it in the ground firmly, normal dad stuff.

Now, one thing you should probably know about my father: he’s not an unintelligent man. Studied electrical engineering in college because computer engineering wasn’t offered yet, and made a career from it. What he may lack, however, is a proportional wisdom score and lateral thinking. He’s good at see a problem, coming up with a solution, and executing it without thinking of other possible results.

What this meant was, when stepping back and seeing a potential danger, my dad realized their should be some cushioning under the swingset. What makes a good, natural, shock absorber? Sand! How do you get sand? Rocks! Specifically, rocks meant to be crushed under horse hooves. Quickly eroding rocks. Don’t what they’re specifically called, but it was probably some sort of soft clay.

So, yes, my dad was going to get sand under the swingset! Good plan!

So, little Canvas wonders over and sees this large expanse of rocks under the swings. So I turn to my father and ask ‘Why are there rocks under the swings?’

“To make it safe to fall on!”

‘But they’re rocks.’

“Rocks turn into sand.”

‘But they’re rocks now.’

Exasperated by his young son’s inability to grasp this simple concept, my Dad replied with “They’re soft rocks.”

‘Couldn’t you buy sand?’

“Well, yes…”

I don’t remember how my dad justified buying rocks over just getting sand, but that doesn’t really matter.

So, later on little Canvas was on the swings, when I shifted my weight just a little too forward, and wouldn’t you know it, the swing inverted itself, throwing me onto the rocks, making little Canvas very sad.

That’s what I remember.

Years later, when I became an adult, I find out what happened next.

Little Canvas came to the back door, very upset, where my mom saw me. And my chin was apparently drenched with blood, my teeth viewable through the hole now on my lower lip. This was very distressing!

So my mom turned to my father and asked ‘should we take him to the hospital for stitches?’

my dad replied something the the effect of “Nah. He’s fine. It’s just a scrape.”

So that’s why I have a scar on my lower lip, and why it’s totally my dad’s fault.

Anyways, I have a beard now, so you can’t see it.

Then came my eyebrow scar! Well, scars. There’s two. One bisecting my eyebrow, and one at its end, by my nose, both now covered by my eyebrow. They happened at the same time, so it’s essentially one scar.

The young men’s group of my church decided to go to the mountains to sled. Fun times for people living in a snow free environment.

Son I sled down the hill a couple times, and get tired and bored. So I go over to what I thought was a reasonable distance, because it was, laid down and daydreamed some.

Then some jerk lost control of their sled, that slid collided with a second loose sled, and that loose sled hit my head.

So I was facedown in the snow thinking ‘huh, that’s a thing,’ when I suddenly am ripped up from the ground and lead away by a random woman shoving snow in my eye.

Probably says a lot about my character that my immediate thought, upon getting a hold of myself was ‘Why is this jerk shoving snow in my face? That’s obnoxious. Stop!’

So I came to a stop and asked ‘What are you doing?’

The woman (who turned out to be a trained nurse, so lucky me) showed me the snowball that she was shoving in my face. It was rather blood soaked, as my eyebrow was split open.

So I conceded that, sure, maybe it was a good idea to ice my wounds, proceed.

So I was taken to a nerby lodge, laid out on a couch, hand bandaids applied to my eyebrow, and my dad was fetched so that I could be taken to the hospitol.

The man sent to get my dad first tried to speak to him in spanish. Now, my dad does know spanish, but was rusty. Eventually they switched to english and my Dad found out I might have been hurt.

So my dad does another quick round of sledding, and comes to me.

This time, he agrees stitches is a good idea, and we go to the hospitol.

Where we waited for a few hours. Got the bandaids switched out with gauze and medical tape, got cleared of having a concussion, waited some more, was sent to the or hallway, waited on a gurney, doctor came over, poured salt water on my wound, sewed my eyebrow closed, and sent me home.

At no point did my eyebrow more than ache a little bit. No major pain, no trauma, just a little soreness. Apparently, there’s not many pain recipters in the area. Or my skull’s oddly numb. Or both.

Then I had to go to school. Being a very smart kid, I decided getting hit by a sled was a very boring story, and instead told people it was a training accident with my army of ninja squirrels.

So that became something people made fun of me for, but whatever, I don’t care. Middle schoolers are stupid anyways.

And that’s two ways my face got beat up. All things considered, my cowardly ways have kept me relatively safe.

Also, my dad’s priorities during a crisis are really stupid.

I also had a scar above my left knee after a random branch in yosemite scratched me. The only thing nearing interesting to ever happen in yosemite.

Also may have a couple surgical scars floating about. Apparently had two operations, though I only really recall one. Not very interesting.

So… that’s what I got! Do you have any interesting scar stories to share? Any questions? Ask box’s open, and I get bored.

Kataal kataal.

[1] Maybe I’ll review it once I’m done with the rewatch. And/or harass Vulpin into reviewing it.

[xeron-canvas-blog]

Character Information: Rägnard

Name: Rägnard los XERON, the Red Traveler Age: ??? Sex: Male Height: 5'9" Eye Color: Canyon Red Hair Color: Chestnut Brown XE Color: Red Discription: Depicted with medium long hair, wearing a deep mahogany waist coat above a long-sleeve crimson shirt, and mahogany pair of trousers. Over this, as part of his travel attire he dawns a fine robe of Xeronica Red, with a metal tag with his insignia engraved on it (the Xeronic “R” pronounced, “Räg”, meaning, “Red”). He carries with him a long, two handed silver sword with a ringed pommel. Attached to the pommel is a thick red cloth that wraps around the handle. This sword is usually concealed beneath the robe on his belt, but when traveling he carries it on his back. Lastly, attached on his belt is a satchel that carries a rather thick leather book with Xeronic writting in it. The words written in here become “Radiant Commands,” or spells used by those who can manipulate XE. Personality: Rägnard is known to be very enthusiastic about almost anything, with an exception of relaxing. He always has to be somewhere, doing something either productive or time consuming. Although he’s the founder of the Red Union and all the cities and town within it, he rarely stays in range of the Union. He’s spotted mostly traveling the rest of the Canvas, returning home at least once a month. When he isn’t traveling, he’s creating new Radiant Commands within his spellbook, Xeronica Comrose. Within this book he has written out over 125 Radiant Commands, including his best known spells Zinkor and Bäron. After successfully writting out a new spell, Rägnard is filled with a great sense of achievement and rewards himself by taking a night off from constant traveling and spends the night stargazing.

[futsin]

WORLD BULDING WEDNESDAY IN MAH ASKBOX!

I'm hoping to get a few asks since I'm still trying to do my basics of world-building and don't dedicate enough time to this project. :(

It's my first children's fantasy story, which is currently dubbed "The Canvas" but needs a much more fun journey title. The idea came about when I already had an idea in mind but my friend Eleanore declared to me that she wanted to see me do a kid's story, "something without crime and guns - you've done that already, do something new."

And well, it just kinda snowballed after I rolled it around in my head. ^_^'

So please! Give me some asks about what you're curious about!

THE CANVAS

The world is in actuality a large work desk inside of an arts class room. By the magic of the artisans and the crescent moon above, the works upon the desk have now become a living world. Each land is made up of a different medium - clay, paper, plastic, glass, woodcut, etc. - and even within each medium there are many locations. These locations grow their own civilizations, societies, and cultures; most often trying to mimic the ideal they represent.

It is a story about a creature called MORPH, who is a shooting star that lands in the world of Clay ("Claybaysia") and is found by a farm boy. The two become friends as Morph mimics the boy, and the two set out on an adventure that takes them across the entire Canvas, trying to find Morph's home and where Morph belongs.

Inspired heavily by Gumby, PaRappa, Okami, and many of the cartoons that have inspired me and relaxed me in my life, it's so far been a nice change of pace.

ANYWAY.

There's the usual WBW asks you can do, but really, ask me anything about it if you can! There's already a main cast of characters (Morph, the Clay Boy, a Paper Princess, a Tin Tinkerer, etc.), some ideas about how the physics work in some of the different worlds (Clay, for instance, is very much alive, and if left untended can become volatile out of fear of drying out), and a couple of story ideas.

But, your assistance, my totally awesome tumblrpeeps, would be appreciated! ^_^

[xeron-canvas-blog]

Character Information: XERON

Name: XERON, Father of The Canvas, Entity of Creativity Age: ??? Sex: Said to be male according to scribes Height: Said to be 5'11" Eye Color: ??? XE color: The Palette (all known colors of The Canvas) Description: Wearing a circular mask brandishing his mark (an equilateral triangle with three diamonds at each point made by three overlapping lines with two rings in the center) they dawn a heavenly robe of a multitude of colors, Xeronic markings weave themselves around the sleeves and base of the robe, it is said they are seen in visions with their hands and feet dressed in red gauze with a ring of an unknown alloy behind them. Personality: Although only seen in visions of the people of The Canvas, many see XERON as a quiet guide who encourages their people to thrive in life with the use of what limits them, creating creative outlooks on their daily lives.

[xeron-canvas-blog]

Prologue: XERON and the Canvas

Imagine, if you would, nothing. Nothing at all, just let everything go. Got it? No? Look, I know it seems difficult to contemplate the absence of something. However, in order to make a masterpiece, we must start with nothing. Now, in this, the void, as mentioned before…was nothing. Nothing to see, nothing in motion, nothing in existence to make a motion to exist. It had been nothing for a time, if there were a time to keep it. I hope you get the picture (or lack there is of), because the last ten sentence here have just been drawing the finest blank circle I’ve never seen.

Something had emerged, with such subtlety, an outline in this sea of nothingness. What shape is this? Are those…hands? Yes, two hands. They reach out, tracing their respective arms, shoulders? Yes indeed, narrow but strong, the same can be said for it’s two legs. The torso seems to be marked with strange writing, I can’t quite…wait a minute where did the symbols go? Oh, I guess you seem flustered being described so closely you took it upon yourself to fashion such a coat. You’re face is, wait, where is your face stranger? It draws out a shape with its left index finger, a triangle, inside the triangle it drew out three more lines. The lines crossed each other, leaving diamond shaped spaces towards the points of the triangle, even on all sides. The center was dressed with a two circles, a smaller one centering the larger like an iris.

The figure took this symbol and drew out one last circle around it and found to be quite fond of it, so they wore it as a mask to cover it’s faceless feature. The figure took on a great multitude of detail shortly after this, no longer simply an outline. The coat seemed to be brimming with a vibrancy of color, filling the nothingness around the entity with space. There was a darkness that contrasted with the source of light, and in that darkness the figure motioned to craft. In his hands he took the nothingness and forged stars and tossed them into the darkness to ignite a path, towards an emptiness they happened upon.

The masked stranger saw this emptiness, and with their hands they took the void, yes, took the void! It was tangible in their two grasping hands, it was magnificent. The nothing took mass, shape, and with a gentle sway…they placed it down and let it grow. Within moments, the blank shape manifested into a large celestial body, much larger than the entity. The size of the planet granted it a gravitational pull, the entity politely agreed to this and gently eased down to the surface.

As the creator landed upon the white, smoothly textured ground, beneath their feet stained the floor like paint. This brought a warm feeling into their chest, placing a hand over their pectoral walking forward. The ground keeping record over it’s footprints, the ink getting thinner as they progressed. They stopped and saw the tracks they left behind, they wished to fill this empty domain with more. So, with this warmth they felt within, the entity combusted into a great fire of radiant colors.

Green was the first flame, that scorched the ground with vegetation, trees, and plains that seemed to go on forever.

Blue came the second flame, so might that touched space above and below the entity. Staining as the skies and pouring out as the seas that filled the gaps that burnt through from the first flame.

Yellow sparked out as the third, casting storms and sand across the horizon. Unlike the soil the Green fire left behind, which could yield lively properties, this sand could not as it divided the space between the oceans and plains.

Red came the final blaze, the flares soared across each corner, these took form and became the blood within the creatures that inhabited this world.

The colors in between flashed as the fire dimmed down, the entity had become charred, and exhausted. With their hands to the ground they poured out their energy to the planet they made, like a masterpiece from a once blank canvas. From the ground rose six bodies, three male, three female. The entity wrote symbols on their foreheads that would vanish and bring them life. Before the entity turned to ash, they spoke in a soft voice to the children that came from what was once nothing.

Rägnard. Bäodin. Yäginard. Gäledin. Necrodos. Hymnstone.

These were the children of the maker of the Canvas, and they would call their creator of colors XERON, and take the land they came from and build nations, cities, and towns. For their children, and the kin that came from them, and so on. To use the land, and life force of Xeronic Energy XERON infused in all that was made, and all was good. All was balanced, for the time it was.

-End of Prologue-