Screaming Paints

So I've been busy getting this site's new design up and running as well as my freelance work so I haven't had much time to devote to my personal project right now. This sites design is just about done, but I wanted to upload what I had. There will be more changes happening to it along the way, I just needed to make sure it looked like a functioning site before uploading it, which I think now it is.

I am still working on a redesign of my house pop-up book. I decided to change the style to a more Victorian style of architecture for the house and I am working on what the surrounding land will look like. This concept is coming along nicely. I've changed it a bit from when I first started this redesign and now I am happier with it. I wanted to keep some of the peaks and sharp angles that I originally had while still having that new feel to it.

A friend of mine wrote a poem for the text to my redesign of this book:

Little Gray House
a Dirge in Eleven Stanzas
by Michael Kress-Russick

1
'Neath the sky in the fen
midst the sedge on a hill
Stood a little gray house
And it's standing there still

2
Long vacant it stands
Askew are its shutters
'tis absent twelve shingles
and bereft of four gutters

3
When lo, on a day
Of tempest and thunder
The wind did fetch word
Of a soul put asunder

4
From a far away shore
Came news melancholic
of a wordsmith who trafficked
in jests diabolic

5
His pen was the engine
Of tales spun in malice
And wrought nary a word
But 'twere clever and callous

6
And now will his quill
in its well henceforth languish
lamented the gales in tones
laden with anguish

7
Then the little gray house
With the storm did conspire
To cast its wee hill
As a funeral pyre

8
Krak-a-rack and kersplat!
A bolt wrought from the night
Set the heather ablaze
And the wee house alright

9
In a thrice the old manse,
Desiccated and dire,
Bloomed as a crocus
With petals of fire.

10
As quick as it started
The inferno abated
Leaving naught of the house
But the knocker: brass plated.

11
'Neath the sky in the fen
on that grim and gray shore
stood a little gray house
but it stands there no more.