Stories at the Park: inspired by Goodcross

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About Goodcross

GoodcrossAnyone encountering images by Goodcross cannot help but be stunned by their richness of imagery and narrative. Covering a broad spectrum of landscapes, images of SL art, avatar studies, and composed pieces, his work is never anything like than utterly compelling.

I first encountered his work at the ever excellent Dathúil Gallery, operated by Max Butoh and Lυcy (LucyDiam0nd), and on seeing it, knew I had to see him display his work at Holly Kai Park.

“I love creativity,” Goodcross says. “The process, the people and the whole gamut of ideation. I’m utterly passionate about it. When I came to SL, I was gob-smacked by the rich graphics. As time passed by, I learnt a lot about not just photography but so many different aspects that you could use your creativity for: building, texturing, making poses, creating lights, flirting (hell yeah that’s creative too! 🙂 ), and finally making strong, enduring bonds with real people. I have been very lucky.”

Stories and Poems

We Never Forget by Kayden Oconnell

(for Magnificent)

Magnificent by Goodcross, Art at the Park, April 2016
Magnificent by Goodcross, Art at the Park, April 2016

I took a wrong turn at the Ebro.
One river starts to look like another,
And fickle luck was stuck in Hannibal’s tent.

I plod with the best.
My feet push me on.
Looking back is a luxury when time wastes for no one.

My solo parade
Leaves me high and alone
On a peak far from home and from here I can’t move.

The wise fool will tell you
That we never forget.
Always remember that fools fight in dreams.

And mountains are crossed
Without graceful art, without joyous song,
Only grunts, heaves and sighs, and rumors of death.

Whose Forgiveness? by Caledonia Skytower

(for Mirror)

Mirror by Goodcross, Art at the Park, April 2016
Mirror by Goodcross, Art at the Park, April 2016

“Stand like Wonder Woman, whether you feel it or not,” the TED Talks expert had said. The sun is a blessed caress, adding energy to her courage as she forgives her body, part by vulnerable part.

“Ankles, I forgive you. Butt, it doesn’t matter.  Waist, really – it’s fine. Breasts,…”

She pauses.

“There are so many shapes, and it is not your fault you aren’t the exact handful I’d hoped for.”

She scrutinizes her lips, mustering the will to absolve. Then, suddenly seeing something more, she swipes a liberating hand across the mirror, leaving a streak.

“You don’t define me.”

 Selfie by Kayden Oconnell

 (for Selfie)

A voluntary prisoner
of politics
can be lost
when confronted with
the unforgiving reality
of black and white.

Selfie by Goodcross, Art at the Park, April 2016
Selfie by Goodcross, Art at the Park, April 2016

The sun bleaches
the unprepared
with a clarity that
forces equality
and erases the doubt
of uncertain motivation.

Unable to accept
the bright spotlight
of invasive inquisition,
he feigns remorse
showing enough
to be enough.

All the light
that reflects the show
can fool the willing,
and calm the ghosts
that are only spooked
by incautious renegades.

This prisoner will take no
voluntary respite
from speaking riot to reason,
for no selfie shadow born
can ever be lucid
or subject to remorse.

Without -Within by Caledonia Skytower

(for The Artist)

The Artist by Goodcross, Art at the Park, April 2016
The Artist by Goodcross, Art at the Park, April 2016

The white void waits, full of opportunity and fear.  What if this is the one time skill and inspiration fail?  What if talent has fled like receding sunbeams, and all that remains are wisps of artfulness?

Everything else disappears: the heated afternoon air, the voices on the lawn, the fire truck a block away.  Effortlessly descending, my brush works steadily onward.  This becomes my conscious world: form, hue, texture, line, composition.  My sensual reality the soft murmur of bristles and canvas.

While the world without relentlessly continues, I am the singular resident within a frightening, fresh realm of endless possibility.

The Secret by Caledonia Skytower

 (for Waiting For An Angel)

Waiting for an Angel by Goodcross, Art at the Park, April 2016
Waiting For An Angel by Goodcross, Art at the Park, April 2016

They never tell you
wrapped in the Icarus tale
and shrouding the truth

They never say it
who could bear the effort when
the wax is melting

Protective coatings
mask the pain of barbed restraints
where the real toil starts

The murder mocks you
“give up the strain little one,
conform to limits.”

I ignore their call,
the stone wet with my weeping
I will not give in.

They never tell you
that freedom requires hard work
unimaginable agonies

These tears that I shed
I have more to give, and the
price I gladly pay

Waiting for an Angel by Kayden Oconnell

(for Waiting For An Angel)

Flying too close to the sun is an occupational hazard for angels,
especially the new ones.
Aisling was a veteran.
She got her wings after Salem,
after a painful death,
after a wicked trial.

She wounded her first wings the first day.
Wiser hands repaired them with mountain ash and pitch.
For centuries they held
until that last day in the sun,
and now she is a flightless bird in this ethereal sky.

She chooses to go back,
claiming the angel contract,
back to the cold earth
and spend another life.

This time she’ll show them what a witch can do.

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Note: all written works by Caledonia Skytower ©2016 by Judith Cullen and all works by Kayden Oconnell © 2016 by Kevin Lee. Reproduced with the permission of the authors. If you plan to reblog any or all of the poems and stories, please ensure you have the authors’ written consent first.

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