Created the last image of the story last night. Never got puzzled by 3 simple drawings for so long. The whole story now actually excists: 581 drawings out of 1174 psd’s. Now the finetuning starts and I promise not to lose myself in neverending pixelfuck.
Some pictures of this new cockpit of mine forgetting time and space. In a week or two its done. Then I will visit each drawing again, looking for last repairs (will probably redo about 50 drawings or more) Back to work for now. This fresh white sheet in front of me has laughed in my face long enough. What will become of me when the artwork stops?
Since I removed all security-lights in tha house its shadows are returning.
Years ago I compiled the most uncanny music I could lay my hands on, blended it with some eerie soundscapes of my own and got this abstruse audio-mix. It’s almost impossible to recall all the sounds & tracks I used but you certainly will hear music of these talented composers: Morton Feldman, Jacaszek, James Harmon, Pawel Szymanski, Emma Kirkby, Aiden Baker, The Kilimanjaro Darkjazz Ensemble. 140 minutes of whispering music and gloomy soundscapes. Download/Enjoy!
In my younger years I visited the Castle of Tongelaer very often. Back then the castle was abandoned. After climbing a wall the place was at your feet. Alone or with friends, I spend many nights in the old tower. (Maybe that’s why I keep having those strange dreams) Today cultivation and modern activity has scared away the silent ambience of history.
This is how I like my skies. Picture taken in the castle-area of the Utrechtse heuvelrug.
Many times I walked in the old (1224 AC) Amelisweerd-forest near Utrecht. Sometimes, when passing the Nieuw Amelisweerd estate, I hear the giggling of young girls. Since there is always a lot of a human activity (like children having birthday party’s) I didn’t pay much attention to it. On a rainy afternoon last December however, I was taking some pictures when one of the girls actually showed up. She just stood there at the other side of the pond saying nothing. I took her picture but she didn’t seem to care. Back home I found out her reflection didn’t seem to care eighter…
Back in those days I painted skies in Aquarelle. Totday I take a ride in the countryside, snapshot some crazy clouds and shop them in the background. Call it lazy but to me a drawing is just like a word in a book: it may be a very bad or beautiful word, its function is to tell the story.
A room with a view: my working place in Camelot Castle.
Erik Menno van Os (Netherlands 1965)
Visual artist & storyteller. Another mortal watching the moon sneaking over walls and ceilings, trying to lick dusk out of rooms, inviting all kinds of ‘old folks’ visible yet unseen, dressed in lights and noises and all that.
Years ago I lived in an ancient farm at the Waal river in Beuningen, a small village near Nijmegen. As the house is built outside the dike, parts of the area will get flooded in wintertime, so there is no human activity or farming or building whatsoever and nights are pitchblack.
One stormy night, March 8, 1996, I was visited by a nightmare so gruesome, I woke up instantly to write it down. No inconsistent, abstractions or symbols but a clear and classic storyline. I could remember every detail of it, except for the name of the dark-eyed female protagonist. The story kept haunting me. With intervals I worked on it to compose a full-fledged novel.
In 2000 I moved to the city of Utrecht, got involved in internet and music business and lost sight of the concept. In 2007 I picked it up again and stayed in a Cornwall castle for a while where the howling wind inspired me to write the more haunting parts of the story.
In 2009 I forgot about the whole project again, until, out of the blue, I had a dream which provided me with the name of the female protagonist! How much more encouragement could one need?
It took me another year to finish the novel, but as a comic artist the 222 page manuscript did not satisfy me at all, so I had to turn it into a graphic novel.
July 2012 (Half way) I had to move from Utrecht with unknown destiny. This manor needing vacant property management saved me and guess what? It happened to be located only a few yards away from the old farmhouse where this strange story started 17 years ago.