A strange world in the mirror

BarryNorton1, 5 months ago

Super image, lovely colour, yes it could well be another stargate

christiane, 5 months ago

magnetic,dramatic and powerful

machandel in reply to BarryNorton1’s comment, 5 months ago

A fairly big stargate if it is reflecting a whole town. But that was my impression as well when I first saw this flame developing.

machandel in reply to christiane’s comment, 5 months ago

Powerful enough that I have the impression this picture wants me to tell a story. Good the hear that other people get the same impression from this flame (I like Apophysis, this program is a storytellers dream, the flames are like clouds, you can see all sort of things in them).

mikeloughlin, 5 months ago

Very impressive!!!

Dorothy Venter, 5 months ago

Lovely fractal. Would love to hear the story :)

Zaldy Infante, 5 months ago

amazing abstract!!

machandel in reply to Zaldy Infante’s comment, 5 months ago

Sometimes abstract works best. Thank you for the compliment!

machandel in reply to mikeloughlin’s comment, 5 months ago

I´m glad that I still can produce new pictures which please you !

machandel in reply to Dorothy Venter’s comment, 5 months ago

There is a story developing. I have formulated the first phrases.

Jokon had already counted seven rain-seasons when he saw his first mirror.
It was during the year when the rain didn´t come, which people remembered well even after seven hands of years had passed. The fields fruited nothing but ants and dust, trees stood barren, their branches black silhouettes against a sky like molten copper, and the riverbed was a stinking mass of dried, cracked mud and dead cattle. Then the village well dried up as well.
The men discussed the whole night long, while the women tried to console the thirsty, crying children.
Leaving the village, where the ashes of their ancestors supported the earthen walls of their houses, was no option. The merciless winds would soon enough destroy the walls, thus banishing the souls of their ancestors from the face of the world. There was but one choice. The men knew about the price it would cost the village and discussed it. The women knew about the price as well and wept without tears. The children knew nothing and cried.
In the morning two young men went to fetch a sorcerer.
When they returned three days later the first children had died, as well as old Werran, Huron the toothless`s wife.
The sorcerer rode on top of a rattling carriage, pulled by a black oxen. Much to Jokon´s astonishment he was young, his short hair and his curly beard still black as coals, and he wore a simple, brown robe.Jokon was disappointed. So that was one of the famous sorcerers? Miron blacksmith looked much more impressive than this stranger.
The sorcerer was of a practical mind. It turned out he had ten barrels full of fresh, clear water on his carriage. Women and men alike praised him with heartfelt gratitude while they sipped the water in carefully measured quantities. Their thirst saturated the children grew quiet, one after another, and fell asleep.
The sorcerer needed some private space for his further preparations. He disappeared into the small temple house, where he stayed till late afternoon.
Meanwhile Jokon was restless. Something was buzzing around which he didn´t know. Not that he could see anything, he just had the impression that something was right behind him. Annoyed he climbed the roof and settled near the rim to look over the gathering place. What he saw made him forget the buzzing thing.
The sorcerer had changed into his working robe, a flamboyant feather-painted wide thing with yellow and bright green patterns on violet ground. With this robe he like an exotic bird among the drub, dust covered villagers. He now went to the dried-up well. Then he ordered the men to bring him a big chest which still rested on the carriage,
From the bottom of the chest he collected a round, shield-like item, covered with red velvet. Mumbling spells and prayers he uncovered the item. A collective sigh answered his action. There, in the middle of the village, was the mightiest spellwork mankind had ever invented: a mirror!

Jokon nearly fell from the roof. His eyes were glued to the shiny reflection of sky and sun which the mirror cast in his direction. He buried trembling hands in the straw.
The sorcerer went to the dried well and placed the mirror inside the basin.
With a melodious voice he chanted soft syllables. To Jokon it sounded like gibberish, but it must have been a great spell, for soon the surface of the mirror started to ripple. It didn´t reflect the sky anymore. From his high vantage-point Jokon saw the color of the mirror change to a dark blue. Almost like water. Before he finished this thought the surface of the mirror broke and a steady stream of water welled up. It spilled over the rim of the basin. The men yelled and run for tools. Soon they were digging a small channel which lead the live-giving water towards the fields, while the women danced around the sorcerer (who looked really smug) and sang.
Jokon climbed down and neared the well hesitantly. He looked into the basin. The mirror wasn´t anymore. Instead a bottomless hole seemed to lead inside the dark entrails of the earth.

Don´t ask me for more, I have no idea when or if I will complete this story!

Jaybe, 3 months ago

Fantastic work – LOVE it!

machandel in reply to Jaybe’s comment, 3 months ago

I feel very much complimented, thank you!