What's Going On At the Gothic Embrace?

Well, not much obviously, and that's why I thought it high time that I at least make some type of appearance after more than a couple of months. Yes, I'm still alive and I can't believe that it's been over two months since my last post here.

So what's been going on? Well for starters, I had to drive out to the Northeast back in late February in order to take care of some family business. Without going too deeply into that situation, all I can say is that my overall visit turned into a nightmare of sorts; and not the type of nightmare we goth types tend to imagine. I've had a bit of trouble resolving some of the issues that have presented themselves while I was there and quite honestly, these issues have seriously occupied my thoughts. I don't always deal well with drama; especially, that of a family nature.

Before I was called away however, I'd been working on a short story that I was quite excited about. It's called The Caretaker. The piece is a ghost story that involves a cemetery caretaker's brush with the supernatural. A week or so after my return home, my head cleared out enough that I was able to continue work on the story. I'm happy to say that it is now finished and has been added to my collection, which when large enough, will provide the substance of my next book. Although there are some ideas floating around in my mind for a next story, I haven't yet been able to bring these ideas to fruition. They're just swirling around and going nowhere. Ah  yes, you've got to love the creative process.

I've also been at a total loss as to subject material for this blog. A fellow blogger made a very constructive suggestion, which I might use at a later date; but just like the short story ideas, I haven't been able to figure out just how I'd present the subject material. Quite frankly,  I've been so totally out of ideas that I've thought of simply saying goodbye to my readers and closing the blog. That might happen; I'm just not sure yet.

As for the local Goth scene, there really hasn't been anything going on. Yes, I did get invited to a drinking night at someone's house, but due to both my introverted nature and the fact that the event was set to take place in a neighboring city, I declined the offer. I'm just not comfortable with the idea of driving home late at night in an intoxicated state. I'll pass on the DUI. Thank you very much! Otherwise, there hasn't been anything happening here. World Goth Day will descend upon us next month, but nothing is planned for that day either. Surely someone will ask me why don't I organize anything, and I will respond by stating that I'm simply not an organizer.

So there you have it; my answer to the above title. There really hasn't been much going on here at all. Still, at least I've come up with a blog post!


 

Vampire's Day Soiree: 2016

For the past four years, Holly B. Strange, who authors an unique and interesting blog called Holly's Horrorland,
has hosted an event that I very much look forward to. It's called the Vampire's Day Soiree and it always takes place on Valentine's Day as an alternative for those of us with a darker outlook on things. Besides, what could possibly be more romantic than an encounter with the right vampire? No doubt, vampires are dangerous, blood-thirsty creatures, but they are also sensual and romantic.  This year marks the fifth annual celebration of this special event.

All a person has to do to participate is to sign up and place a link to his/her own blog on the Ms. Holly's website,
add the photo on the left to your blog, link back to her site and post something about vampires. It's that simple--and it's fun!
Since vampires often make appearances in my fiction, I enjoy taking a special scene from one of my stories and putting it up here for everyone to enjoy. I know, it's a bit of shameless promotion on my part, but an aspiring author needs to find exposure somewhere. This time, I am taking a scene from a story I finished back in the fall. It's a somewhat Lovecraftian piece and it takes place in and under an abandoned railroad tunnel on the East Side of Providence, Rhode Island; H.P. Lovecraft's old stomping grounds. The name of the story is Horror in the Tunnel. As yet, it remains unpublished, but that's because I haven't decided just what I want to do with it. That said, I hope you'll enjoy my offering for this year's event:

My thoughts are interrupted by s spine-curdling scream. It's a woman's voice; possibly the source of the screams I heard earlier. I stand almost spellbound as I watch two of the ghoulish creatures leading a hysterical, naked woman to the central slab. Without hesitation, they force the struggling woman onto the central stone face up and set about chaining her limbs tightly to the stone's extremities.

I stare in amazement, wondering if I have stumbled upon some secret BDSM ritual. Yet, how could that be, as these repulsive creatures before me appear as real as anything I've ever seen. And the victim is clearly frightened, struggling.

Suddenly, the stately woman arises from her throne and for a moment, the drumming stops and an eerie silence falls over the cavern—a silence that is only broken by the captive's pleadings. “Please let me go. Please!”

As the woman in black takes her first steps toward the terrified female, the beating of the drums begins anew. This time, the rhythm is agonizingly slow as hands and sticks strike the instruments in unison once every three seconds or so. The sound echos throughout the chamber like some sort of death march as the obvious leader of the assembly walks toward the terrified person lying before her.

The drumming ceases when she reaches the panic-stricken prisoner. The woman looks down at the young lady affectionately as she gently brushes back her hair and strokes her face. The girl is whimpering amid hysterical cries. “Please, please!”

I realize that something sinister is happening here as I contemplate the possibilities. Clearly, this is no consensual ritual; at least, not as far as the woman on the rock is concerned. Yet, I feel a certain excitement when the lady in black bends over and whispers something in the girl's ear. I watch in amazement as she begins moving her lips slowly and sensually along the captive's neck. Before long, she ceases her movement and lets her lips linger, kissing her victim passionately. The affectionate attentions of the woman in black seem to calm the young woman down as she begins moaning ecstatically, offering her neck to her captor's passionate caresses. I find the scene before me both unnerving and yet, exciting, as my mind fills with conflicting feelings of guilt and arousal.

The sinister woman's ministrations continue for several minutes until finally she backs away from the now still form lying below her. A crimson liquid covers part of her face and runs in streams from her mouth until she wipes it away with a hand, which she in turn, licks hungrily.

Oh my God! She bit her. She tore open the flesh of that poor girl and drank her blood! What the hell's going on here?

Without warning, the slow drumbeat commences once again as the first of the ghoulish creatures, which had led the young victim to the stone, steps before her limp body. The second hands him a colorful but folded and elongated piece of cloth. He at first, holds it above his head for all to see. Then, he carefully places the fabric on the stone next to the young woman's body, where he begins unfolding it. Within moments the content of the package is revealed as he lifts a fearsome looking dagger above his head. The assembly roars in approval, but the sounds emanating forth form a chorus of ghastly, ungodly moans--sounds capable of making the bravest man's blood run cold.

The chamber becomes quiet once again as the creature lowers the knife toward the young woman's body. Although my body is almost stiff with fear, I cannot stand by watching this spectacle any longer, and I react without thinking of the consequences.

“No, no! Get away from her you bastards!”

My hand reaches into my coat pocket and within a matter of nanoseconds, my weapon is out and I aim it at the creature with the dagger. Two shots ring out in rapid succession. The ghoulish thing drops the dagger and reaches for what must have been a wound in its left arm while the rest of the assembly seems caught off guard. All heads turn in my direction as I struggle to take control of the situation by shouting at the gruesome beings once again.

“Get away from her!”

 There you have it! That's my offering for today's event. Don't forget that there are links to other vampire material at Ms. Holly's site. And who knows just what she will have up her sleeve? Have a good time! Oh, and many thanks go to Holly for hosting this event.

Once again, here's a link to Holly's Horrorland.

My Personal Tribute to David Bowie

This past Monday morning I arose from bed just in time to put on the morning news. I had barely stepped away from the radio before I heard a shocking report stating that David Bowie had passed away.  What? They've got to be mistaken! I thought to myself. When I got on Facebook and saw the many tributes to the man pouring in from grieving fans however, I was forced to face the truth; David Bowie had indeed departed this world.

It's hard to describe what I felt. At first I scanned my memory wondering if I had ever actually bought any of his music, thereby helping him in some way. I had always loved his material and sometimes listened to it online, but had I ever actually bought any? Fame perhaps! I thought that I may have purchased that single. Still, I wasn't sure. I thought about the first time I heard his music. This, I remember clearly; Rebel Rebel was the first song I ever heard by him--and the lyrics, they talked about perversion but somehow he was making it okay.

My mind quickly went from the man's music to his legacy--how he had so often reinvented himself and had been so many things to so many people. Still, as I waded through the many tributes gracing the pages of Facebook and elsewhere, I realized that although his music was central to his success and his persona, perhaps his greatest contribution to the world was that he made whoever and whatever we are acceptable. David Bowie came on the scene and suddenly, is was okay to be a freak, okay to be gay, bisexual, feminine, punk, goth or whatever else a person happened to be.

Someone said that David Bowie probably saved a lot of people from committing suicide. I believe it, because in those old days people who were born different were ostracized and excluded from society in so many ways. How many people over the years, especially young people, after being told that they were aberrations and filled with self-loathing, decided to end it all? But when Mr. Bowie became popular and put his uniqueness on display for all to see, the isolated and self-loathing had someone they could rally around; they suddenly had community--and pride!  

Film director, producer, screen writer and novelist Guillermo del Toro put it best when he recently said, "Bowie existed so all of us misfits learned that an oddity was a precious thing. He changed the world forever."

I can honestly say that I have never been filled with such a sense of loss when hearing about the demise of a celebrity as I have with the passing of this wonderful human being. In his song entitled Heroes, David Bowie sang, "We can be heroes just for one day."

Well David, you've done better than that. You'll be a hero forever!  R.I.P.

Nicolo Paganini: Classical Era Goth?

It is widely believed within the goth community that the subculture had its beginnings when the British post-punk band, Bauhaus, released its first single, Bela Lugosi's Dead, in August of 1979. All things considered, it's pretty hard to disagree with this widely held conception. Still, it is also known that so-called "dark souls" have been around much longer than that. Of course, there was the portrayal of Morticia Addams during the 60's, but she was fictitious. Some consider Nico, who sang with the Velvet Underground during that same decade to be the first goth chick. Others go back much further in time and nominate the European artist Marchesa Luisa Casati (1881-1957) for that position. Then, there are literary giants such as Bram Stoker, Edgar Allan Poe, Mary Wollstonecraft Shelly and Horace Walpole to consider. The fact of the matter is that history reminds us of the many so-called dark souls who thrived in earlier times. More likely than not, these would have fit in to our subculture quite nicely were it in existence during their lifetimes.

Dark souls have also inhabited a corner in the world of classical music as well. One such person who may very well qualify is virtuoso violinist, violist, guitarist and composer Nicolo Paganini.

Paganini was born on October 27, 1782 in the Republic of Genoa, now a part of modern-day Italy. By the age of five the young Paganini began learning to play the mandolin under the tutorage of his father. Within two years however, the boy's interest had moved to the violin. His impressive skill with the instrument quickly became apparent and before long, young Paganini had earned various scholarships for studies in violin.  As the boy grew, his skill at playing the violin rapidly superseded the abilities of his teachers. At the age of 18, the young man was appointed as first violin of the Republic of Lucca. Still, it was freelancing that he enjoyed the most.  Eventually, he went on tour across much of Europe and his reputation as a violinist grew exponentially.

Although many other musicians and the public marveled at his musical abilities, Paganini also developed a reputation for being quite unconventional. Over time, he became well known as a gambler and womanizer. Additionally, there were other aspects to his personality that served to reinforce the conception of his unconventional nature.

Just for starters, the violinist employed the use of trills in his musical performances. A trill is defined as a very rapid moving between two adjacent notes. Usually, these notes are only a half or one full tone apart, sometimes resulting in dissonance, notes and intervals that result in a desire for resolution in a more agreeable fashion . Sometimes dissonance can make a musical composition sound evil. In Nicolo Paganini's day, many people considered dissonance the work of the devil. Musical style aside, the violin virtuoso's physical characteristics did little to settle the nerves of his audience.

According to Guitarra Magazine, Paganini "was tall and thin, had a rather long nose, a pale and long-drawn face with hollow cheeks, thin lips that seemed to curl into a sardonic smile, and piercing eyes like flaming coals...

"...Paganini dressed in black, played weaving and flailing, with skinny fingers cavorting over the strings, and contorted shoulders giving him the appearance of a giant flapping bat. Paganini's every movement and every tone emanating from his violin seemed to support the 300-year-old myth that the violin was the "Devil's consort" and that the violinist himself was the Devil."

Indeed, the audience was absolutely spellbound by Nicolo Paganini's every performance. Yet, it was not unusual to observe some making the sign of the cross when at his performances or otherwise in his presence.

Over time, some came to believe that Paganini was in actuality, the Devil himself; or at a minimum, the Devil possessed him during performances. Others believed that a satanic being, a doppelganger of sorts, always sat in the audience during his concerts. This being was identifiable by his long black hair, somber black clothing and eyes that burned like coal. Others claimed that Paganini killed a young woman, imprisoned her soul in his violin and used her intestines as strings for his instrument. Yet, they continued coming to his performances.

In real life, Nicolo Paganini was also a composer. He is best known for his 24 Caprices for Solo Violin. Interestingly enough, Caprice No. 13 is often referred to as The Devil's Laughter. 

During the course of his musical career, Nicolo Paganini both held the public spellbound by his musical genius and yet, unnerved it with his dark fashion sense, playing style and musical taste. If Paganini were alive today, would he qualify as a goth? Would he fit comfortably in the subculture? While no one can say for sure, he clearly must have understood the effect he was having upon audiences as he toured Europe. Surely, he must have been aware of the many rumors circulating about him. Yet, he continued on unapologetically.

One thing is certain however, when Nicolo Paganini left this world on May 27, 1840, he had earned the title as one of the greatest violin virtuosos ever to grace an audience with his presence. It is a title that he holds to this very day--and he always dressed in black! 

Portrait by Daniel Maclise - 1831