I lived and worked in a lighthouse at a previous job. There was a thick line painted in a circle around the shack where the fog signal was kept. The line represented how close you could get to the fog signal without experiencing physical harm in the form of eardrums shattering or worse.
Even in the house it was LOUD. Probably the loudest thing I have ever experienced but at a normal, predictable interval. You would begin to time your sentences with little pauses with the rest of the lighthouse crew so you would talk like this while making your………..HORN…………. tea and then carry on talking because you knew when it would go off. It rattled the walls and the dishes in our cabinet.
At least one girl had died there. They kept photos of her everywhere “in honor of her sacrifice” because she had decided to take the winter watch alone and died in a storm where bounders the size of mini vans had been lifted out of the ocean and left scattered across the island, to say nothing of the ice chunks. People weren’t allowed to be alone on the watch after that.
One day a dead moose washed up on shore and it took my entire crew all day but we managed to rig up a line to hang it up to dry because we thought having a moose skeleton in the house would really spice the living room up a bit. It did. Weird shit happens when six of you are left alone, like ALONE ALONE, no cell reception, no wifi, just a radio to contact the real world and not a lot of reason to do that. People don’t go on lighthouse jobs if they want to stay connected, I’ve found.
That said Id do it all again, I really do treasure those days
you know you could’ve just said “no they don’t have wifi” and that would’ve answered the question
me in planning stages of writing: this fucks. this is gonna be so fun.
me the minute i sit down to write: language is an unwieldy cudgel we use to beat the human experience to death in an attempt at ever communicating fully with another being. i wish intelligent life had never evolved. i want to go back to the cell stage like in spore
i love you practical effects i love you corn syrup blood i love you set designers i love you creature artists i love you makeup and prosthetics i love you costumers i love you actors who sit in the makeup chair for 5 hours i love you makeup artists i love you practical sets i love you puppetry i love you miniatures and bigatures
Led through the mist, by the milk-light of moon, all that was lost, is revealed. Our long bygone burdens, mere echoes of the spring, but where have we come, and where shall we end? If dreams can’t come true, then why not pretend? How the gentle wind, beckons through the leaves, as autumn colors fall.
Somewhere lost in the clouded annals of history, lies a place that few have seen. A mysterious place, called The Unknown.
Come, wayward souls And wander through the darkness There is a light, for the lost and the meek Sorrow and fear are easily forgotten When you submit to the soil of the earth
Grow, tiny seed You are called to the trees Rise till your leaves fill the sky Until your sighs fill the air in the night Lift your mighty limbs And give praise to the fire
