Back To It

About a year after our last update seems like a reasonable time for the next one. In all seriousness though, the last year has been tumultuous for both of us. We have just about come out the other side though and although I have not made the updates here, Allison has been especially productive.

My writing has been a bit more on the back-burner than I would have preferred but my training to be a lich is just about done, and that means refocusing back on art. I have been taking photos however, and have even managed to document some of our artistic endeavors over the past year.

We decorated for a wedding. 

And photographed another.

I took an interest in photographing mushrooms. I find they are good subjects, low to the ground, immobile, and interestingly textured. A macro lens is hopefully on the horizon.


I wrote a children’s story which Allison is illustrating. The working title is “Wyrm Sitting” and I am very excited to show this one off.  


Above Illustration by Allison Kittredge. See more here.

What else let’s see…

Ah, right, I discovered spooky noodles…scary spaghetti, I mean creepy pasta, a form of short horror fiction posted and shared via the internet. My main and favorite source for this has been The No Sleep Podcast, which has of yet brought me many hours of an entertainment I didn’t know I wanted. I definitely recommend it. My favorite episode is “The Whistlers” written by Amity Argot and narrated by the very talented  Jessica McEvoy, David Cummings,  Jesse Cornett and Mike DelGaudio.

The No Sleep Podcast has inspired me to try my own hand at short horror and I am working on two pieces, “The Burning Girls” and “Triangle House.”

My goal is to update more frequently now that i am done with school. I will post some fiction once I get it all cleaned up and presentable.




The Great Ivory

Inspired by "The Great Ivory" written by ALD
Inspired by “The Great Ivory” written by Alexandra Lane, Illustrated by Allison Kittredge

If the mammoths were still alive we would use their tusks to make piano keys.  We wouldn’t remove the tusks, but carve the keys right in. The music played by the man sitting between the tusks would reverberate hollow through great halls, where audiences would sit, breathless. Sometimes, the mammoths would cry (because the music is so beautiful, the composer would say), and their tears would be bottled and sold to ladies of high rank and great wealth after the shows. The mammoth’s tears would be said to have magical properties, like adding years to your life, making you more beautiful, desirable, and if you were particularly lucky, happy. Any mammoth that would cry, would not live long after, and its body would be discarded without ceremony.