Allegory - Escape from Reality: Page 72



	Ever get the feeling that maybe someone is just writing the pages to your life. And that he's not a particularly good writer? And that maybe he has a really wierd sense of humor? To be honest, I never have, but I bet Iggy does. It might seem that this page was a 'cop-out' artistically, as all I drew was the parchment texture and the hand with the pen (and the ink blots). However, it took a long time to paste the text to the book, position it just right and so on. 3D actually takes longer than just drawing - it's just easier to edit. Also, it moves things along in this rather protracted conversation.
Drawing completed - 29 JUN 2010 Drawing posted - 30 JUN 2010
20 JUNE 2001 Wednesday - 2000 Page 72 Black Kettle Pub After a brief pause among the hubbub, Geoff suggested, "I should think that it's when we're being written about." "Oh, aye? When's that, then?" Thaddeus asked. "When the pen meets the paper, I s'pose," answered Geoff. "How can we tell when that is?" objected Thaddeus. "An' 'oo does all this writin', anyways?" asked Rachael. "Auffors, I'd imagine," suggested Pete, sarcastically. "Playwrights," Clare added to Pete's dig. "Poets as well," said Slide HolenWulf. The others looked a little startled, as he had remained silent until now, perhaps preoccupied by other thoughts. "People that write poems," he felt compelled to explain to the staring crowd. "But all Portrayals, whether prose or poetry, have to be approved by the Portrayal Endorsement Committee. And they haven't approved a new apologue since the reign of King John VII, over eighty years ago." "There's our taxes at work," Pete complained. "Eighty years o' committee meetin's wiffout accomplishin' a bleedin' thing." "I don't think it matters who wrote it," said Slide, "or when. It's what they wrote about us." "Aye, an they wrote whativer they wanted," said Thaddeus. "Juist ma point from the very start. I'm ayeways mean, ill-tempered an the like. They dinna hafta be bathered with the truth - after all, why let the truth get in the way o a guid story?" "So end o' the day, it's nuffin' to do wif us, izzit?" Rachael pointed out. "We coulda been perfect li'l goody-goats or we coulda gone out to plunder an' pillage the countryside an' they'd still've written the same old rubbish, whever it's true or not. Foxes are clever, Mice are timid, Lions are brave . . . " "Rachael certainly has a point," Clare added. "They didn't have much imagination, these writers. Always the same old stereotypes." Everybody looked so surprised that Clare and Rachael had agreed on something, that it actually brought a lull to the conversation, if only briefly.

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