As Roy checks for damage, the man he thought he just beat to death rolls over and sings, “A vision of loveliness, I uttered a sigh….”
A photo essay of the fire troupe Inferneaux performing at the event Circus, Circus, Circus on September 27, 2008.
Kristin Fouquet is a photographer and writer from New Orleans. You are invited to visit Kristin’s virtual home, Le Salon.
by Jason Michel
Gerry Carnelly has built up a reputation as one of Britain’s most hardworking tattoo artists. His shop is Octopus Tattoo in Derby in The Midlands. He is not only a top Tattooist but a damn fine visual artist to boot with a complete dedication to his work. I had a wee chat with him.
Tell these ignorant curs something about Gerry Carnelly.
When did you realise that you wanted to happily inflict pain onto a paying public & become a tattooist?
Chugir was forty years old, weary, and damaged by bad booze.
The booze problem he blamed on the Drinkards. For months, he had been stalking a Drinkard and extracting almost pure alcohol from its body.
“Almost” pure. People were saying it was Chugir’s own fault, that he pushed the Drinkard too hard, until the booze it produced came out polluted. “Bad metabolism,” they were saying. Chugir wasn’t greedy. Each day, he’d been sharing with others the clear drink which he pressed out through the Drinkard’s metal tubes.
But this particular morning, the booze made him sick and he threw up blood. The others carried him to a Fixard, the common type spotted on the grass plains, and shouted for help until one of the Fixards heard them.
Who are you? (Or who do you think you are?)
Lakhan knew he wasn’t supposed to fall for monsters anymore. Well, not since that embarrassing incident of 1987, at least. But he couldn’t help lusting after the one in front of him. The beast was, he believed, obviously male, although there was no discernable bulge. He was lusciously dark, the result of deep-chocolatey South Indian genetics, with, of course, long hours toiling in the hot Indian sun, Lakhan assumed. His face was as delicious as his build, with full lips and wide-set black eyes framed by thick charcoal eyebrows. His nine arms were muscular, sexier than the arms of any two-armed man. The horned tail was to die for. With his lengthy nose and prominent chin, both geometric in their sharpness, the beast’s face was as angled as Lakhan’s was round.
by Jason Michel
Q1: Ryan, without giving too much away, tell me a little about the inspiration for Harbor Moon.
While at USC’s grad school for film producing, I was determined to graduate and not have to be an assistant. So I aggressively pursued a wealth of material – books, comics, web comics – I must have read over 500 scripts in two years before one caught my eye. Titled ‘Bloodkin’ it was an X-Men type story about a man without a past who finds out Continue reading Harbor Moon: A Hairy interview with Ryan Colucci