I apologise for not posting for so very long.
I have been drifting at sea for quite some time, and came to rest today (Christmas day) on the Isle of the Lost Nuns. Here there is a colony of semi-feral nuns, who appear to be quite friendly.
All of the nuns live in odd, hollow, spherical houses with tables and other furniture glued to the inside of the structure. The house moves when a person inside pushes against the inside, rolling the house and making other furniture accessible. This system is foolish, as many houses often roll into the sea, lost forever along with their inhabitants.
The nuns are also all avid myrmecologists, myrmecology being the study of ants.
Washing ashore on Christmas was good timing, as they have prepared a great feast to celebrate. It is due to begin any minute, so I must finish typing this entry.
Terrible events have come to pass.
I have purposely sunken the outrigger canoe, as disturbing evidence regarding Ouga came to light. He has been reporting to the GIA (Greek Intelligence Agency) for some time now, apparently being able to speak Greek. As far as I know, he was swept south by a giant wave.
As for the rest of us, I have been carried further out to sea, while Alyss took flight and returned to land. Charlie and Paula are floating together on the remnants of the canoe, and are floating further away along the coastline.
Whether we will be reunited again seems unclear, but I hope we will.
With lack of emotion due to tiredness,
We must leave this place.
I stole a can of corned beef from the local corner store, being desperate for a feed. Unfortunately, I was spotted and reported to the local authorities from who I am now hiding. They wear strange uniforms of green and silver Lycra (or spandex).
I must find Paula, Charlie, Alyss and Ouga as soon as possible, and we must flee. If things get really bad, I'm not too fussed about Ouga.
The problem is that Paula is being followed around by a group of zealots who think she is the messiah. Removing her from the sight, let alone the presence of them will be difficult.
I will post again as soon as I have escaped.
A quick update.
Whilst sitting in the waiting room of the local hospital (I think), I have created another blog where you may look at some of my drawings and the like. Visit it here. I am aware that it's a tad bare, but it'll grow.
Also: Can the Shakira fan who has been e-mailing me non-stop since I started talking about the shikara please stop now. I don't know Shakira, I was writing about a S-H-I-K-A-R-A not S-H-A-K-I-R-A. One is a type of Indian boat, one is a type of Colombian singer-songwriter, musician and record producer who has been a major figure in the pop music of Latin America since the mid-1990s. (Thankyou Wikipedia). Please stop e-mailing me.
It has been a most eventful week-and-a-bit.
The creature circling us has turned out to be some form of human-bird. She attempted to save us by diving down to lift us from the canoe, but Ouga got scared and hit her with his guava-stick, concussing her.
Paula remained silent for a long time, choosing to glare at me instead of be conversational. Charlie went a bit insane and made a kind of lute out of fish that she caught. She played folk songs of India on it, which Ouga liked. He danced around and said words in his strange language. The bird-thingy, who calls herself Alyss Flite, was in a semi-coma-like state for most of the voyage, occasionally groaning and asking for pancakes.
And so we drifted on, unaware of the great danger facing us. About a day later, we arrived at the blur on the horizon, which turned out to be a swarm of canoe-eating snakes. Luckily for us, they only eat canoes, and so we just got very wet.
We were forced to float on Alyss' wings, which acted as a kind of raft.
And so we floated further and further, until finally we washed up in the main harbour of a large, fairly dirty city. I can only assume that we are in Greece, as the locals seem to speak Greek.
What we do now remains to be seen, but Alyss needs to get to a hospital as soon as possible.
Charlie and Ouga went exploring, and Paula said she needed a drink, and so I am left alone with Alyss.
With mild tiredness,
Paula, Charlie, Ouga and I have been in the boat now for some time. We continue to float aimlessly on the ocean. It was a miracle that we all survived the tropical cyclone. In the chaos, the false floor of the outrigger canoe gave way and revealed Ouga. This angered Paula, who is no longer talking to me.
In fact, nobody is talking to anybody. Paula isn't talking to me because I hid Ouga; Neither of us is talking to Charlie because she won't stop talking about some pomegranate she left with her neighbour. Ouga can't talk.
There is a strange beast in the sky who has been circling the canoe for a few hours. I can't identify it for now because the sun is too bright, but it looks like a huge bird.
There is a blur on the horizon that could be land, or another storm. I hope it isn't the latter.
We have found Paula just in time. Charlie, Paula, Ouga and I have all boarded the outrigger canoe. The others don't know about Ouga, as I've hidden him under a false floor in the canoe. I have been telling them that there is a phantom hog who haunts the canoe to explain Ouga's sounds.
The storm is gathering force, and there is no land in sight apart from Jacakland, now covered in molten rock.
With little hope,
P.S. We found Paula trapped in a cave underneath the log. There was no horse.
P.P.S. Charlie found a dead horse on the island while we were searching for Paula. It had a strange, guava-shaped indent on its forehead. I hope that we do not also fall victim to Ouga's rage. He seems quite untame.
Charlie Pucker has crashed on Jackaland! She ran straight into the volcano's vent, triggering an eruption. There are mere hours before magma from beneath the Earth's crust will begin to spew onto the island.
Charlie and I have begun searching for Paula on her half of the island, but we can not find her anywhere. The only thing we heard was a scratching from underneath a tree trunk, but we assumed that it was one of the horses that Charlie saw earlier.
I have identified the unkown object in the bushes. It was in fact a small man who calls himself Ouga. He speaks no english, but from what I can gather, he has lived on the island all his life. He always carries a stick with a guava attached on the top. He uses it to hit people (particularly me) on the head. I have not told anyone else about him. I hope to take him off the island with us when we leave tonight.
Unless we can find Paula, Charlie, Ouga and I will have to leave without her.
With audacity (I think),
All is not well.
Paula is in grave danger, as she is refusing to speak to me (and she has been making false accusations about me, as I discovered whilst reading her blog), and has closed herself away somewhere on her half of the island. I must find and warn her - I recognise the signs of a volcanic eruption, even if Paula doesn't.
I worry about the dark clouds I see gathering on the horizon. I can only hope that this storm wears itself out before arriving at Jackaland. The tides are also behaving strangely, and they have risen far enough to put out my smoke signal.
There is only one hope left. Charlie Pucker, a woman I have spoken only breifly to before, is attempting to rescue us in her aeroplane (yes, "aeroplane", not airplane. Foolish Americans).
I do fear that she may fall victim to the gathering storm. Charlie, you have been warned.
I have sturted construction of a second boat. This time I have planned an outrigger canoe, for increased stability. I have to make it big enough for three people, as I accidentaly sank Paula's boat, the Suicidal Insanity, whilst trying to find corned beef inside. I havn't told her yet.
Furthermore, I sighted something or someone in the bushes yesterday, and I am fairly certain that it wasn't Paula.
With growing fear,
P.S. Paula does have the biggest half of the island. I just know it.
Paula has arrived! She washed up on the island this morning in the speedboat, which apparently failed after she left Traulasia. It was pure coincidence (or 'fate' as Jackal would have said) that she wash up on the same island as I.
I have told her that we must leave the island immediately, as the volcano has begun to smoke. Paula disagrees; She thinks that we should stay on the island, as my smoke signal is going very healthily. She says someone is bound to notice it, but I fear that they will merely think that it is smoke from the volcanoe.
I fear that there may only be days until a full-scale eruption takes place, and unless I can convince Paula to leave, we (or at least she) will be doomed. She seems stubborn on the matter though, and is now refusing to even talk of the matter.
I am yet to ask Paula about what happened to Jackal, as she seems slightly volatile at the moment.
Many of the banana leaves from my shikara have begun washing up on the shore. I may be able to reconstruct it if enough return to shore.
Click on the image above for a better view.
P.S. I recently recieved contact from a person called Charlie Pucker. Charlie, should you be reading this, please make haste for Jackaland. We need saving.
I have two pieces of most disturbing news.
Firstly, I prepared a crab stew last night. I can only assume it was undercooked, as I immediately regurgitated it, as well as some of my last meal: Jackal. Only, it wasn't Jackal. It was what appeared to be corned beef. A strange story, my friends. I can only assume that Paula tricked me into believing that I was eating Jackal, but why she would do this, I cannot say.
Secondly, the island I am stranded on (which I have named Jackaland, in memory of Jackal) has turned out to be more dangerous than I initially had thought. After a brief expedition to the island's peak has revealed that this island is of volcanic origin. I must leave as soon as possible. I have set a smoke signal on the shore, but I may have to construct another boat.
With mixed emotions,
I have beached on a small island in the South Pacific. The island has a healthy supply of fish, fresh water and coconuts, so I should be able to sustain myself for some time. I have constructed a simple internet transmitter from rocks and the banana leaves that I could gather from the shikara.
These last days have been harrowing, as the shikara eventually collapsed, and I was left floating on one banana leaf.
On the other hand, being stranded on this island has given me an excellent idea for this week's Illustration Friday topic: Smoke.
Paula, I still need rescuing. Please.
I feel the need to tell you that half of my shikara has suddenly collapsed, and that I am clutching to the remaining half for dear life. With one arm I hold this notebook computer and my precious art file, with the other I hold the shikara, which is on a dangerous tilt.
I would urge anyone who knows the whereabouts of Traulasia to please search the surrounding sea for me, and to please rescue me, should you find me. The waves are becoming ever larger, and I fear for my art.
Paula, if you are reading this, please save me in the speedboat.
With great anxiety,
I have set sail on the shikara. I am posting this while still within the range of Paula's fantastic wireless broadband system. My picture has been posted (see last entry) but, unfortunately, was not as satisfactorially digitalised as I had hoped. Please believe me when I say that it looked better on paper. It did.
The shikara is holding up well. One banana leaf has broken away, and I can only just make out its silhouette on the horizon. I have no idea where I am sailing towards. My only hope is that I strike a land that has sophisticated travel methods enough to take me back home.
I miss Jackal.
Here is my entry for Illustation Friday's Wind topic. It fell victim to a dodgy scan, due mainly to the lack of scanning expertise held by Paula. I apologise. Most of the detail can't be seen because the contrast is ill-balanced and the frame was mutilated by the ravages of a techno-illiterate. No offence, Paula (or anyone else for that matter).
Click on the image for a larger view.
Please forgive me,
P.S. The shikara has been completed, I set sail tonight.
UPDATE: The image above, and the larger linked one is the re-scanned version.
Woe is Garhuckle.
Jackle and I have crashed on the little-known island nation of Traulasia, in a particularly remote area. We were fortunate to meet a local: Paula Rarkino Sinclare. She took us back to her house to stay until we can leave Traulasia, which has no means of going overseas. Jackal and I started work on a shikara, a type of indian boat, but he was taken suddenly ill, and died later that evening of what Paula was able do identify as Whipple's disease, apparently common in those parts.
Later I was forced to cannibalise Jackal as Paula had no corned beef, and the only restaurant in 200 miles was Greek.
Despite my loss and despite being lost, I have managed to draw my entry to Illustration Friday on this week's topic: Wind. Luckily on Traulasia they have scanners and a surprisingly sophisticated broadband system. The post will appear later this evening.
I remain stranded on Traulasia, and I continue work on the shikara.
May your day be better than mine has been,
P.S. You may wish to visit Paula's blog here.
Illustration Friday - Ghost
I discovered the illustration Friday site on Monday, and decided to enter it on Wednesday, so I kind of only just finished it. For those of you who don't know, Illustration Friday is a site that allows you to enter your own illustrations to that week's topic. This week it was Ghost. I hope it's not too bad, I'm pretty happy with it.
Jackal and Garhuckle.
Click on the image to go to a larger picture.
My name is Garhuckle Caprice, and my good friend the 'Jackal of Smart Citizenship' and I are pleased to present our work for your infinite perusing.
Have a great time,
Garhuckle and Jackal
P.S. The above (very small) pic is of me, or is it Jackal? I'm not so sure.