Some samples of my work
EXCERPT FROM Soul of the Shard
This is still very much in the first draft stage, but click here to read an excerpt of Soul of the Shard, sequel to Spirit of the Stone. Still a work in progress, I don't know when I might complete this book, but it has some old and new characters whom I very much enjoy writing thus far. STRIDE WITH DETERMINATION Do artists still have anything worthwhile to say? In an age when AI can string together a potent set of words, an evocative array of lines and depth of colour to bring an image to life, simulate a series of emotions learned through the efforts of others, does a human strive to compete, or bow to perceived obsoletism? Can a computer effect true passion, or does the mind recognise on some level the artifice of the machine? When does the assistant overcome the instigator? Honest emotion might maintain a handle on the authentically human rather than reliance on a clever comparison to works of bygone times, yet complacency tempts the adoption of ease, a laziness that encourages lack of effort. When the novel writes the novel, when creativity relies solely on the extant, when pictures and words evolve only through bits and equations with no innovation save what came before —a structure void of the necessary building blocks to the truly unique-- we lie stagnant and crippled. So I say, yes, artists have much yet to offer, if only we stand firm and continue to strive amid the age of AI. We may share, we may collaborate, we may even learn from this developing creation that might yet lull us into settling for a slide into slothdom; but if we give in, sit back and let the novelty become both commonplace and a replacement, if we fail to evolve even as the machine seeks to learn a better form of mimicry, then we lose the spark of human achievement. Let us not bow to our artificial overlords just yet. Continue to learn, to create, to find our own voice and method of expression. We all have something worthwhile to bring to the conversation. We can, as ever, but hope someone wants to listen amid the myriad noises that demand our attention and envelop our world. |
POETRY
A poem is emotions Swirling violently around in a sweet sea of words. They twist, they turn and are thrown about. They say different things, yet sometimes seem the same. People try to grasp their meaning like gulls on the water grasp for food, but they fail to understand the masked message hidden deep beneath the frothy white waves of tranquility. FACE OF THE UNIVERSE Star motes swirl in a dance across the eye; life in a vortex of fiery sparks that evoke ethereal endurance beyond the ken of mortal minds Ashes and dust remade, spirit renewed, imagination transfigures existence An eternal search for congruence; elements entwined, seeking completion ever yearning for that perfect balance, the steps that inform desires and etch the truth as a seal of harmony into the face of the universe RENEWAL Rain drowns the sky in heavy tears as it draws rivulets of mud in cracked fields. The sun doesn't see, for it cannot penetrate the oppression of ceaseless clouds who mask the weeping of parched earth and strive to scuttle distant dreams by the drudgery held at bay only by a dome of protective canvass. Do we hunch beneath layers of protection, hide behind the shelter of human achievement, huddle amongst nature's ready-made umbrellas? Or do we venture into the tempest, tilt our heads to the heavens and allow the water to bathe our faces, glory in the sensation of this life-giving gift that trickles past open lips and slides with icy sureness down dry throats, breathing strength into a yearning vessel as it washes away old conceits and nurtures the seeds of new ideas? Our choice, to bow to the heavy burden of darkness and cower beneath its weight, or walk free under a cleansing sky that weeps to find rebirth. Let it wash away our worries so that we can start fresh, lest we drown in the regrets of might-have-beens. |