I was not the least bit surprised when I saw the Magic tree. Powered by the energy of increased faith - about which the old witch often spoke - it was just a matter of time when I would find it. My tree was silent to offer its magical fruits, I knew it was wise to choose only one. The one who seriously paces the path of magic does not pick random fruit, but take the one that requires the most effort to be picked. I was standing satisfied some time, feeling the wind blowing in my back, for a long time I was traveling without him.If you want to buy some of my works, with confidence contact me.
Jura Skeptic entered the inn, fast approaches to the bar and uttered:
- A double dose of brandy, right now!
His face was pale and breathing accelerated. As soon as the innkeeper Joe pour a drink, Jura grabbed the glass and ingested brandy, deeply sighed and said:
- I saw the Evil Child!
We present are silent and waited while Jura regains his composure, it was clear that he was very frightened. Jura Skeptic gave a sign with his finger innkeeper to pour another drink to him, and continue:
"I went before the darkness in the woods to pick up cranberries, to help me with bladder inflammation. I already found the darkness, when I feel in a bush I'm not alone, I look up and I see in the shadow - Evil child. He sat on something, he looked at me without words, no movement. Just that silence, tense immobility and a penetrating view, crept in me fear that is difficult to describe. I did not stop running all the way here."
Jura Skeptic then jerked another brandy, exhaled air from the lungs and relax his shoulders. Innkeeper Joe put a hand on Jura's shoulder and spoke in a voice full of understanding:
- Welcome to the club. Who has met the Evil Child begins to put many questions to himself.
I was sitting in the corner and the first thing that came to my mind that the fear of a child probably worse than fear of evil spirit.
It's been a while since we saw a big tree, wizard Cirilo Bum and I wandered somewhere in the Great Steps, around us the landscape consisted of mostly yellow and brown hills that ended up on the horizon. Wasteland has welcomed us with silence, blades of grass and stunted plants patiently waiting for the rain which is, as always, was late. Only here in this desolate plain, said the old wizard, growing a kind of hard grass that strengthens the cognitive ability of a philosopher, a wise man, wizards and similar characters. I had a feeling to this unusual environment, unexplored and empty, little putting me to sleep, then I noticed the old wizard that it has stayed behind me and watched something in the country. When I got back to him, he pointed his finger at one bushy grass and said:
- Look at!
I saw nothing but land and grass, half dry, sticking out in all directions.
- Look more careful! - repeat the Chirilo Bum.
I put together little eyelashes and indeed: I see two small beings - - the size of the head of matches - how they stand between the grassroots. Then they started pushing each other, sought to take only known to them, a better position, fighting for a fraction of the territory, at a fraction of the territory of Great Steps. It was fun to observe them as they persisted and did not give up their own, completely unmistakable fighting for a small space under one bushy grass when such bushes have a lot of them around them. I crossed my hand across the grass to confuse them, but in vain - they continued their little battle for turf as if it was the only one in the world.
- They can not see you and you can not turn them away from their intentions, it's in them "said the old wizard.
Some time, with a smile, I watched them invade each other, captured in their own world, and then I see that the wizard Čirilo Bum looks to the sky. There were clouds in the sky who rushed one another, and they were attracted long-awaited rainfall.
- Will rainfall today? - I ask.
"I do not know, I did not think about it," said Čirilo Bum - It's just me for a moment passed the feeling that someone is watching us from above. But that's always in me.
I'm glad you're looking at this my artwork and you've noticed a few characters from the World of Fantasy. Some of these creatures even talk. And that's all. Who persistently seeks in this scene some deeper beauty, hidden harmony, wise message, etc., let him know that he accepted a stupid job. That is not here. Figures from the world of fantasy do not need it.
Word of truth whom you do not want to know
A 3 format, original for sale, + shipping costs
see more about Puppet on
This work in itself does not contain beauty, nor wisdom in the text. When the corner of an eye you see three demons when they pass by you, there is nothing beautiful. And the fact that demons change their shape depending on the position of the light source, there is no wisdom, even small children know it.
A 3 format, original for sale
A 3 format, for sale
One who looks at this picture from the World of Fantasy will notice vent on the head of each of the geniuses, vent by which they occasionally inflate his powerful brains filled with ideas and knowledge. The observer might be laughing at this picture, thinking that he understood a point - what the writer wanted to say - and quietly go further, forgetting that he entered the World of Fantasy for a moment, and that entry is never a simple event. Perhaps only a hundredth observer will dawn in the head thought: If I look at them, do they look at me too? At that point, the most important thing is awakening to the observation of anything - attention, focus. Now observer notes that is all the time he carefully watched by three geniuses (if they even geniuses). With the growth of attention, the observer has revealed in the picture something that he could not see before. And the story by now very spread, the philosophy with the transformation of knowledge is intermingled - and with a lot of things - while, finally, ask the question: Who am I?
A 3 format, for sale!
One unpleasant rule in the Demonic community in the World of Fantasy is that only once comes into a marriage, two demons remain forever in a hellish relationship, the divorce of that damned marriage is not possible. Everyday quarrels, bloody battles, persistent maltreatment, and other offenses among spouses are desirable elements in every successful demonic marriage. But marital duties have to be executed and adultery is punished with the utmost. In the case of adultery, careless demon The Great Evil Council - with pleasure - pronounces this punishment: the demon is deprived of all power, turn it into a common human being, and is forced to work for the rest of his life as a volunteer in a retirement home or a charity organization. In the picture, we see Lucille, a young, free demoness in a delicate situation. Demon Harts, an unmarried ghoul, sent her the Flowers of Evil to the gift. The demonic world loves its flowers, if Lucilla accepts them, she will have to marry him. The basic question that is ails Lucille is Harts' ability to reproduce. She wants to give birth to her little demon to torture him, as she has been subjected to suffering from her parents. Only thanks to their hatred and constant terror, she today has grown into a desirable, evil young demoness. In her slowly boiling rage, Harts demon comes, and she has not decided yet for her outside looks, she wants to look attractive, but to him creeps pass through the spine when he saw her. While she was thinking up how will emphasize in the conversation that life with her will be thunder and hell, that she is convinced that she is more insidious and appalling then him, Her anger has long since moved to strong hate according to Harts. Lucilla is slyly smiled, decided to keep the Flower of Evil.
We sat in the shade of old oak, the day was warm, clear, a light wind passed through the branches of trees full of light, and told them stories. The old witch and I were watching the road which twisted through the forests, across the meadow, the landscape gave us its beauty. Then, just like every Friday - about these late afternoon hours - out of a forest out on the road a figure is known to us, he was wearing a dark shadow on his back, and the gray cloak - for eyes invisible - dragged behind him. Today he walked a little slower than the last Friday when I saw him, the back is a little more bent, like a wolf when stalking prey, head jutting forward. It was a wicked wizard Okapoan, we knew he hated the old witch, jealous of her ability to do magic. He walked like a thief who did not want anyone to see him and when he came to a small hill, suddenly hunched over, even more, turned his eyes to the direction of the old witch's home, his face was hateful when he uttered a sentence. I knew he was throwing a curse on the old witch's house and of course us, its inhabitants. Then relax your hands down the body and continue the journey, faster pace, we watched it without saying how it goes, it gets smaller in the way which is his way.
"Curse is a very powerful magic skill," said the old witch, "Okapoan knows everything he needs to be successful. Hate as energy, concentrated thought, and the word that leads to this world intention. The problem arises when a curse does not sit to the one he was supposed to receive. Then the curse will remain with the one who sent her. Over time, it will break it, just as he wanted the other."
The old witch smiled when I showed her a twig yew which I pulled out of my pocket. She did not need such protection long ago.
A 3 format, for sale
see more on
A 3 format, for sale
Five pains that can execute a human being.
For some stories is best to never be told.