Erianrhod

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Nocturne by Erianrhod, literature

Literature

Nocturne

It was on a midnight dreary, When I sat alone and weary, Battling with my favorite air On the lute to my despair, That an inkling of a presence Like the echo of an essence Did assemble in the room Rising softly from the gloom. I had tried with all my might And attracted by my plight It seemed to creep up from behind A face austere but also kind With pointed beard and longish hair And an eager watchful air, And I knew the very name That would put my play to shame. “Master, will you pardon me, For the mess I made of thee And your work of inspiration. Oh, my hands bring desecration Onto every single part. Surely this will break your heart!

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Nocturne by Erianrhod, literature

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Nocturne

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End of an Era by Meredyth, literature

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End of an Era

A ‘Kaiseradler’ story by Duncan Meredyth The airship came down like a wounded whale, shearing roofing shingles and trusses off several houses and flattening a wooden storehouse, its centrally positioned steam engine crashing through wooden pillars like cannon shot through brittle bushes. The damaged hull, pierced and perforated by 75 millimetre-shots and harpoons, broke apart completely and folded. Small fires flared while the two pursuing rigid airships, sleek cylinders build for speed and firepower, started their descent. The town of Colmar, jewel of Alsace-Lorraine, awoke to life in the midst of night this January 21st, 1905.

ART THEFT! Again... by Meredyth, journal

ART THEFT! Again...

Mar 20, 2014

Something that happens once in a while - which some say is a compliment of sorts. Someone collecting your artwork to embellish a website, his online profile, maybe printed matters, too. They even may use it for a book or cd cover. Why not? They have found it 'somewhere on the internet'. It happened that someone ripped off pictures from deviantART, printed them and sold them as his own work for lots of money during an art market in England. This is not a compliment. This is criminal. I'm not a professional artist. Sometimes I work for money, sometimes just for the fun of it. Either way, there is work involved. Hours of drawing, colouring, and