can't decide ~ which one? REVISED

ok. for a project ~ like, for marks ~ i must submit a book cover. here are two three choices i have dreamed up. whaddaya think? anyone? opinions and feedback graciously and gratefully received. oh yeah, i've decided to stop being so effing paranoid and not give a shit who knows my name.



eye of the storm ~ the cover for a fictional non-fiction book which attempts to dispel the various urban myths that exist regarding various organized religions.

(pssst ~ this is an addition ... and my favourite ~ does it look too sinister, or surreal?)



falling: my life after 9/11 ~ the cover for a fictional non-fiction book written by the wife of the falling man, a man who died on 9/11, when he jumped from the twin towers ... his fall was photographed and the photograph published. the author uses the fall which took her husbands life as a metaphor for the way in which her life changed after that fateful day.

(i like this one b/c, despite its plain-ness, it is a better photochoppy that the needle cafe one. i edited this one slightly ~ added a 'tiled' filter to it to give it that texture)



the needle cafe: tales of an IV drug user - a collection of short stories ~ the cover for a fictional fictionalized account of stories from the open drug scene in vancouver's downtown eastside, which the author affectionately calls "the needle cafe". the stories, all told from first-personal perspective, depict the darkest and yes, sometimes humourous, sides of life as a junkie. told in an irreverent, sometimes abrasive tone, this collection of stories strips away any perception of glamour from living life as an addict.

(this is macabre ~ the blood splatter could be better tho, some of it looks too faint in places. overall, i think this one's the most amateurish-looking one of all, but its quite eye-catching.)

visceral intuition

I have spent my days, this week, immersed in Photoshop. I love graphic design. I love Photoshop. This Photoshop course has sent me on another photo-choppy jag. Hours on end, spent with squinting at the screen, talking to myself, wearing my glasses on my forehead, searching for just the right image ... or look. And then, in the midst of it all, when I have my glasses on my forehead, and someone walks by and starts talking to me, I have gone so viscerally into my intuitive self that I find myself thinking, I can't talk to you right now, I'm not wearing my glasses. Like ... my brain felt incapable of processing outside auditory stimuli because I could not see through my eyes clearly. The two have some sort of connection ~ not sure just what though.

And so, it seems that different modalities of creativity have different energy fields ... and and reside in different areas of the Self and the psyche. Photo-chopping takes me to a very intimate place of my being. A place so spiritually visceral, it defies words. And at that place, dear reader, I have arrived. Like a weary traveller who failed to adequately prepare for his journey. Yet, who marvels at the wonder of all he encounters. Viscerally. Words make no connection. Only image ... colour ... shadow ... texture. My eyes have now become the vehicle through which my heart escapes its bondage. Bear with me.