Field of paper flowers...

Amy Lee is an actual person.  Trufax.  It was kind of surreal watching her just bound onto the stage all energized, belting out the band's newest single "What You Want" within ten feet of me.  She remained about within ten feet of me for the entire show.

I could whine about how people at concerts are jerks, or complain about how I was pressed up against the gate the whole time, or about how I could not move and how the term "personal space" ceased to have meaning.  But, in the end, none of these things mattered.  What mattered is that I got to see a person that I've looked up to for the past five years perform.  But, what I will say, is that people smell.

You could look at me right now in my very overpriced Evanescence hoodie and easily say "He's obsessed," and pity what you assume is some sad practice of idolatry I engage in.  I may even joke that it is idolatry and pretend to be some mindless fan.  But do trust me when I say that Amy and the band in general mean quite a bit more to me than that and I wouldn't dream of calling my affection for Evanescence some petty obsession.

It was the band's music that gave voice the various thoughts and emotions I was feeling back when I first got into them, which was something that no other music I was listening to at the time was doing for me.  It's a bit of a cliché I suppose, being fifteen and thinking no one understands how you feel, but then here's this young woman singing and making you feel like she's gone, or is going through, things similar to what you are.

It was pretty powerful, and I must admit that I spent most of the latter-half of 06 and first half of 07 listening to Ev almost exclusively, and pretty regularly since then.

What I find wonderful about them as well is that I can still go back to older songs of theirs and find that what may not have spoken to me years ago now means quite a lot.  The song "Your Star" is like this now, I realized it last night when she sang it.  I think I perhaps even view it as a prayer of sorts, and I'm going back and listening to it a lot now.

I know several people who glance at the music and classify it as, like, downer music and be pretty confident in that conviction.  I mean, I guess I can see how you can just label it that way, and I probably use some umbrella-labels for other groups or types of music as well so I'm not going to say anything against those people lest I become a hypocrite.  I personally don't think it is "downer" music.  To me it's real.  A lot of the songs bring up very raw and powerful emotions that I think a lot of people are scared of - it's music that takes you to some broken places, places that we don't want to be.  But within the dark is the empowerment that Amy and other band members pour into the lyrics.  Encouragement to overcome.  Empowerment to become stronger.  Strength to move on.  That's what these songs mean to me, and that's what I see in them.  And, to be perfectly honest, the songs make me happy.  They elevate my mood.  I know some people have a hard time even understanding how that works and that's ok, I don't understand it myself - I just consider it as one of my many quirks.

Anyway, really glad that I went to see them last night.  It was amazing to hear her sing live, and feel the sound coming from the speakers and resonating throughout my being.  It was great to see her passion for what she does, and feel that she is genuine.  I hold so much respect for her and wish her the best in her career, her life, her marriage, and everything in-between.   Thank you, Amy and Evanescence.

I could keep going on so I'm just going to stop before this gets really long and repetitive.  Thanks for reading =)

Grocery Shopping

Just a little thing I wrote tonight.  Enjoy =)

                It was an ordinary day in an ordinary supermarket in the LA area.  Sem was in a nearby store and had left Sorena the task of picking up a few groceries.

                The ancient woman stood in the freezer aisle, peering through the smudgy glass doors at the products behind them.  The aisle was completely clear save for a few people stealing bewildered glances at the witch from around corners.  Sorena sighed and consulted a small list in her hand, looking down her thin nose at it, reading the neat handwriting.

                “Ice cream,” Sorena muttered.  “We never buy ice cream…”  She took a step or two sideways until she was in front of the section labeled ‘Ice Cream’.  “How much ice cream?” she wondered aloud.  Sem hadn’t specified how much.  “And he just expects me to know what flavour he wants?”  She’d only known him for about eight hundred years – how was she to know?

                The woman gazed at the selection.  A minor defect in the packaging of one of the tubs caught her eye.  It was a miniscule dent in the corner, one that only the most tragic of OCD cases would detect.  Of course, Sorena wasn’t OCD, she was just easily distracted.  She darted her eyes to the right, and then to the left, and then opened the refrigerator door, snatched the deformed tub of ice cream, and casually tossed it into the plastic shopping basket she held.  She hadn’t even checked to see what flavor it was.

                As she walked away she read off the next item on the list.  “…Pickles?”  She stopped.  “He doesn’t even like pickles…” she commented.  “Do I like pickles?” she thought for a moment.  “I don’t believe I do.”  With another sigh she went about finding the condiment aisle.  After a moment she located the aisle and after another moment was looking at jars of pickles.

                On the other end of the aisle the loud sound of thick-heeled boots could be heard against the linoleum floors.  The wearer of the boots passed by and spotted the mass of dark clothing that was Sorena in the corner of her eye.  She glanced Sorena’s way and smiled almost immediately, coming to a stop.  The second woman was dressed much more modernly, wearing skin-tight jeans, a navy blouse, and a silky-grey flyaway vest along with the aforementioned boots that went up to her knees.

                Within another moment the woman was making her way down the aisle towards Sorena.  The new woman had a very tangible presence about her, but Sorena was completely oblivious to such things.

                “Well, well, well,” the new woman said with a smug grin, hand on her hip.  “Look who’s come out of her dark lair to be in the real world.”

                “…This one,” Sorena said to herself.  “This one looks like Bach…”  She was pointing a finger at a specific pickle in a specific jar.  She grabbed it and dropped it into her basket and only then noticed the woman standing next to her.  Sorena blinked at the woman for a moment, a blank expression on her face.  “Oh…” she muttered, realizing who was talking to her.  “Hello Lysis.”

                Lysis smiled.  “You’re less and less focused each time I see you.  I keep waiting for the day when you lose it entirely and Sem will finally have to admit you into a home.”

                “Are you normally this rude to every person you encounter, I wonder?” Sorena shot back, walking away.

                “Just you really, dear,” Lysis answered, walking beside the woman.  “I didn’t know you did these sorts of things.”

                “What things?”

                “Grocery shopping.”

                “Well,” Sorena started, a bit flabbergasted.  “Of course I buy groceries.”

                “I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you eat,” Lysis pointed out.

                “Don’t be ridiculous.  Of course I eat,” Sorena said.  “You don’t even have a right to say something like that when the only thing I’ve seen you consume is alcohol.”

                Lysis laughed.  “I don’t drink as much as you think I do.”

                “No, certainly not,” Sorena rolled her eyes.  She wandered into the next aisle and began randomly perusing through the products on the shelves.

                “Ice cream and pickles…” Lysis said with a raised brow.  “Please tell me this is for one of your weird concoctions.”

                “Ask Sem!” Sorena huffed.  “Neither of us even like pickles!”

                “Ugh, disgusting.  I wish you two wouldn’t act like a couple.  It’s upset my stomach on more than one occasion.”

                “Are you certain you weren’t simply hung-over?” Sorena cracked.

                “Old skag, you’re lucky I don’t just put a bullet in your head and put you out of your misery.”

                “You’re lucky I tolerate you so much.  If Sem wasn’t so fond of you I would have made you disappear a long time ago.”

                “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lysis shot back, enjoying the passive-aggressive banter.

                “What are you doing here anyway?” Sorena asked. “I always thought you frequented places where pints of milk cost thousands of dollars.”

                “Thousands of dollars for some milk?” Lysis crooked a brow. “The economy’s not that bad yet, dear.”

                “Answer my question,” Sorena said.

                Lysis shrugged.  “I was passing by and needed to grab some things.  Like you, I also do everyday things like buy groceries.”

                Sorena wasn’t convinced.  “You live in the city centre, which is twenty minutes away.”

                “Can’t a girl go out?”

                “Out where?”

                “Working.”

                “Ha!” Sorena shouted.  She knew what ‘working’ meant when it came to Lysis.  The young woman made quite a living on ending the living of others, to put it simply.  “See, at least I spend my time in a commendable manner-”

                “Rasputin.”

                “…What?”

                “Rasputin,” Lysis repeated.

                “I… T-that was an accident!” Sorena said indignantly.

                “Yes, of course, love,” Lysis nodded.

                “It was!  The man was bonkers anyway,” she whispered fiercely under her breath.

                “And who didn’t take responsibility?  You?  Oh yes, that’s right,” Lysis continued, completely enjoying herself.

                “Still!  It wasn’t on purpose!  And I didn’t get paid for it!  So I will still judge you.”

                Lysis shrugged again.

                The two continued their banter for the rest of Sorena’s little shopping trip.  Sem met them as they stepped out of the store.

                “Ah, Lysis, I thought I sensed you here,” Sem said.

                “Hey, babe,” Lysis said.  “Just helping the old woman out with her shopping.  You shouldn’t leave her on her own like that, you know.”

                Sem rolled his eyes and took the grocery bag from Sorena and peered inside.

                “… Pickles?”

                “That’s what I said,” Sorena commented.

                “The list didn’t say to get pickles,” Sem mumbled.

                “It did actually!” Sorena said, producing the list. 

                “I will vouch for her this once and say that it did have pickles on there,” Lysis said. “Poor Sem, her sickness is rubbing off on you.”

                Sem snatched the list and looked at it for less than a moment before saying, “I didn’t write this.”

                Sorena stole back the list.  “You’re right.  This isn’t your handwriting.”

                “You couldn’t notice that before?” Lysis wondered, quite amused.

                Sorena thought for a moment.  “Oh, yes, that’s right.  As I was walking in I realized that I had misplaced the list you had given me.  I looked around on the ground and found this and simply assumed it was the one you had written.”

                Sem only shook his head and smiled before grabbing the old woman’s arm and pulled her back inside.  Lysis followed behind them with a phone in her hand, saying loud enough for Sorena to hear, “I think I will tell Francis to buy her that coffin…”

©2011 James Curry a.k.a Sem

Character Analysis: Captain Francis Bellefleur

This is the character I wanted to share last update but Sorena kind of butt-in.  Anyway, here he is - Captain Bellefleur.  He will insist on being referred to as "Captain" - only close friends can get away with addressing him as Francis.

Origins
Captain Bellefleur was created in the Spring of 2010 - during my time in Northern Ireland - and I'd wager he's about a year and a half old.  He was actually created for an entirely different project that has since been abandoned, much like my many other projects.  However, he still continued to exist in my mind, waiting to be given some form of "life" elsewhere. 

There is a reason I put life in sarcasm-quotes, and that's because the good Captain isn't technically alive.  He's undead.  To make the image clearer in your mind he is an animated skeleton.  There is a reason I decided to do this, that being that skeletons are usually used to scare or freak people out.  So, it is in my nature to take something like that and twist it around.  Captain Bellefleur is about the nicest person you could ever meet, and is the source of some of the comedy in my universe.  It wouldn't even be much of an exaggeration to say that he is an incarnation of goodness itself. 

Captain Bellefleur is an effort of my part to turn a symbol of death into a symbol of life and goodness.

Personality
As I said above, Francis is an incredibly nice and giving individual.  He spends his time doing an impossible number of things and is quite the philanthropist.  He is an excellent cook, and owns a rather popular higher class restaurant in New York city called la nourriture.  Using his culinary skills and the resources of his restaurant he sends meals to poorhouses and shelters on a bi-weekly basis.

He supports countless charities and very often visits those in need. (often in disguise)  He keeps several bee colonies within the city and has several gardens that he tends to.

He is not capable of speech, but knows how to write and knows several forms of sign-language.  Despite this, he will rarely use these skills to communicate with friends, and rather enjoys watching them trying to discern what he's trying to communicate, as well as decipher his current mood and emotions.  (He shouldn't be able to see or hear either, but he somehow can anyway, or so people assume, and he somehow just knows whenever a dish is ready to be served.)  He is usually as jolly as his skeleton grin would suggest.

The good Captain is a bit finicky about clothes on others, and will fix anything he feels seems out of place. He also loves to dance and is proficient in many different kinds of dance.  He will keep up with the reality TV shows focused on singing and dancing.  He is a lover of the arts in general and is also a bit of a movie nut - enjoying heartfelt tearjerkers the most.  He finds the horror genre laughable, though anything featuring the undead may put him on edge.  He is an avid supporter of undead rights and runs an undead support group.

Francis can tend to have a bit of a morbid sense of humor, often hiding in people's closets, or buying coffins or grave plots for people on their birthdays.  He celebrates his "deathday" instead of his birthday.  Halloween is also his favorite day of the year and co-runs an annual haunted house along with Sem and Sorena.  He enjoys the holidays in general and loves hosting parties.

Francis can be quite dramatic, and looking at him would make one believe that he lives in a sort of fantasy world.  This is partially true, but he longs to simply serve as an example to others through his acts of service and simplicity.

Captain Bellefleur may also be a bit oblivious to social norms and doesn't tend to sweat stuff that should be sweat over.  He has a magical key, a skeleton key, (lol) that allows him to get through any lock.  So he'll casually walk into places he shouldn't be.  He'll also use the key to "borrow" cars if he's in a hurry.  (He's not a very good driver though.)  He tries his best to return the car where he found it, often to find an angry owner or a police officer.

Looking at him you wouldn't know that he is an expert swordsman or marksman, but he is also a pacifist at his core, and will only take up a weapon in defense of another.  He is deeply in tune with both the physical and spiritual world and always seems to know when something is happening.

He loves children, as they for some unknown reason are able to accept him as he is more easily than adults are, and he loves making them happy.

His new dream is to start a clothing line along with Elizabeth, another character of mine who still needs some development.

Appearance
In private or in the presence of people used to his skeletal form Captain Bellefleur wears very little - often just a pair of boots, a military-style frock coat, a belt, and a large tricorne-styled hat with a large pink feather.  Of course, he'll dress up appropriately for any special occasion, but he is almost always wearing the hat.

In public he's sure to wear a cloak that covers him completely.

©2011 James Curry a.k.a Sem

(Note that the hat in the picture wasn't drawn as large as it's supposed to be.) 

History
 Francis Bellefleur was a French noble several centuries ago, greedy and corrupt to his core.  He was also a privateer, and was captain of his own ship.  He raided the seas for the sake of his country, and it was his greed that eventually led to his death when he decided to attack a ship belonging to the church - which was forbidden by any nation.  A battle ensued and he was caught up in a bizarre mixture of magical energies that killed him, but also bound his spirit to his corpse.

The more his body decayed the more good he became, and he lived out the centuries pursuing goodness.  In his mind his life had been devoted to selfishness and greed, and so his death would be devoted to selflessness and service.

Not long after his death he met Sem and Sorena and quickly became close with them.  He went with them when they decided to move to the American colonies in the 1700s shortly before they gained their independence.

He spent the entire nineteenth century living with the poor of the larger cities such as New York, and in the twentieth century visited places like Africa and India as well as traveled the world.  During his travels he was able to become a master chef, able to cook a variety of dishes from practically every nation and culture.

Near the end of the twentieth century he returned to New York and finally realized his dream of opening a restaurant.

Personal Impact
Francis is still a bit young to have had any sort of huge impact on me yet.  He's merely fun to think about at this point and I do get really amused imagining him in certain situations.

He is the only character of mine that is purposely ridiculous, and I like it.  I feel that it's good to be flexible and realize that not everything needs an explanation, and some of my explanations for things can be pretty farfetched anyway, even in this incredibly flexible universe.

I could say that he's an example of how we should be towards our fellow man ;o

Thanks for reading! =)

The character Captain Francis Bellefleur is ©2010 James Curry a.k.a Sem

One year later...

I wrote this a little over a month ago and I told myself I wouldn't share it until today.  Well, it's today.  Emo alert :x

Shot

The young man walked down the road,

Green grass to his left, no longer grey,

Green grass to his right, no longer dry,

In front of him, mountains majestic to behold,

Blue was the sky before him,

Dark was the sky from where he had come,

Cracked was the road he had walked,

But no more.

Still he had doubts, but joy did flutter in his heart,

His string of hope held strong.

He gazed at the mountains before him,

He wondered to which peaks he would climb,

A flower by the road caught his eye,

He smiled and picked it, held it to his nose,

Content to hold it, he continued walking,

The young man was unaware that the flower had changed in his grasp,

The flower that was so bright was now black.

And then a shot rang out from his right.

Pain flew through him.

He fell onto his left without a sound, without protest,

He watched as the black flower danced to the ground before his face.

His joy spilled out onto the road, staining it red.

The world shuddered.

Once again the sky was dark.

Once again the grass was withered and faded,

The ground on which he lay was now broken.

He could not see the mountains – where had they gone?

His life bled out - sorrow and fear took life’s place in him

His joy drowned, his doubts confirmed,

The string had been cut.

With one final breath he whispered,

“How foolish of me, to believe that there was any other ending but this.”

And into darkness he fell,

And fell,

And fell.

©2011 James Curry a.k.a Sem

I make such a good dark and tortured poet |D  Next poem I do promise to end on a bit more of a positive note so that I'm not such a downer all the time ;o  Anyway, as you might have been able to tell this does hold quite of a bit of personal significance to me, but obviously it can be reinterpreted in any fashion according to the reader.

In other news...

The new Evanescence album is out today.  You have no idea how long I've been waiting, but it's finally over, and it was worth it <3  If I'm feeling exceptionally obsessive I may blog about a couple songs.  Also, isn't the album cover amazing?  I love it so much.  I love everything about the album.

I also had a great weekend with some great people at a retreat in some place in the middle of nowhere.  It rained.  It was nice <3

Also.  I'm planning to write up some "Holiday specials," if you will, featuring some of my characters.  Planning to do ones for Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas for sure, debating New Years.  Thoughts?  I'm not sure if I can post them easily into the blog.  Depending on how large they are I may break them up into parts so as to not overwhelm you all.  That's it for now folks.

PS. I've used a lot more smileys in this post than I usually do :x

Personify

Sometimes we dehumanize people into dolls and at the same time humanize dolls into people.  Everyone hears the cry of the person who says "I don't want to be a doll!"  But who hears the timid whisper of the doll who says "I never wanted to be human..."  Such is the way of our vanity.