Stories at the Park 5: inspired by Panteleimon Aeon

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About Panteleimon

Panteleimon

“Sometimes I take piccies,” Panteleimon “Pan” Aeon says of his work. The truth is, he does much, much, more than this.

Pan’s work is visually striking, whether landscape or portrait, set by the location or composes and posed, his images carry a sense of instant which gives them a depth of vitality and life captured in a moment which is extraordinary. The result is images which truly capture a moment in life; a frozen instant of an unfolding story, the narrative ours to place around it.

It was seeing Pan’s art at Sorcha Tyles’ Artful Expression which caused me to invite him to Holly Kai – nor will this be the last time (I hope) that he displays with us; I have an inkling of any idea for a series of themed exhibitions for the future, and if the idea grows to fruition, then Pan is one of those artists at the top of my list I’ll be inviting to participate.

Stories and Poems

Autumn Chant by Caledonia Skytower

Inspired by The Pumpkin Keeper

Musty air and dusky bright
define the shadows,
bring the light.

Harvest moon and birds in flight
sense the changing,
bring the light.

Pungent spice and brisk new wind,
signal cycling to begin,
Gather all the fruits you may,
against the dearth of winter’s day,
Seasons change and we obey
bring the light.

Falling leaves and morning frosts
forging onward
bring the light.

The earth decays, no count of costs
the wheel is turning
bring the light.

Soon the fields will crust and freeze,
chill commanding every breeze,
Tarry not till bounty’s scant,
join us in our autumn chant,
Fall’s insistent, winter’s destined
bring the light.

“The Pumpkin Keeper”

The Pumpkin Keeper  by R. Crap Mariner

Inspired by: The Pumpkin Keeper

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.

Whenever he buried treasure, he’d forget to draw a map to it.

So, he spent a lot of time stumbling around beaches and forests and fields, holding out a lamp and looking for anything familiar.

He never found it again.

“Damn it, George,” said the captain. “Either draw a map or bury the treasure somewhere easy to remember.”

So, the next time George had treasure to bury, he tried to bury it under his bunk.

His crew-mates stopped him before he broke through the hull and sank the ship.

Echoes of Christina by Trolley Trollop

Inspired by: The Faraway

“The Faraway”

Seven summers later I still see your faded skirt and withered legs as you pull yourself towards freedom.

What drove you? Was it the sameness of days spent tending land our families had farmed for generations? We were careful stewards, content in our routines. Or at least I was.

The windmill’s metal blades begin to catch and squeak as the wind swoops across the plain. I should climb up and oil them. But what if I fell? What if I lay on the ground with only the strength of my arms to propel me?

I couldn’t bear to become you.

In Memory of Nico by Trolley Trollop

Inspired by: The Chapel on the Hill

“Chapel On The Hill”

Your ancestors were Conquistadors and Mayan royalty whose bones rest in places of highest honour. You joined them at 104 years of age, clear-headed and alert to your last breath.

Now you, too, rest in consecrated space. The last of your kind you are like the Cristo de la Unidad, symbol of reconciliation between those of Spanish and Maya heritage that stands in Merida’s Cathedral de San Ildefonso.

A Jesuit, you trained in medicine, served in world war and spent a lifetime caring for souls in need of understanding with unflinching honesty and humour.

Farewell, Nico. Till we meet again.

Untitled by R. Crap Mariner

Inspired by: Free Skies by Panteleimon Aeon

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.

His shipmates drank rum and grog, while he maintained a wine cellar in a corner of the ship’s hold.

He kept it hidden from the others, stacking up a pile of old sails and crates.

Every now and then, someone would spot George tossing an empty bottle over the rail into the sea.

“Oh, sorry,” he’d say, “that’s the last one. If only you’d been around when I opened it.”

One day, they took heavy cannon fire, and George’s precious wine collection was smashed to bits.

George wept for days.

“Free Skies”

Sudden Possibilities by Caledonia Skytower

Inspired by: Free Skies

“Check time! Where’s the Concierge?”

“Don’t be such an asshole, Roger.  They’ll be back any minute now.”

“Your choice, buddy.  But I say its time to bust.  This rolling nightmare just became the ‘Hotel Outta Here!’ Hey!  Oy!  You three, help me with this door!”

“They’ll just catch you and pen you again.”

“Yeah, you say that, but they gotta catch me first.”

“There aren’t regular feedings out there.”

“There ain’t 8″ by 10″ forced nap space out there either.”

“Maybe they won’t come back. This could be a convenient home base.”

“Nice theory. You work on that. I’m gone!”

 

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