Portfolio

THE Pack 

A poetic look at the packs of nature, what pack reigns supreme...

Rha The Destroyer
A clash of Persian/Egyptian cultures combining to create a powerful new breed of warrior

Yamato M12
A slashing, katana-wielding samurai warrior inspired by the Japanese legends of Yamato, with a merciless technologically weaponized upgrade

Makoma Neon

A deadly agile warrior hailing from Africa, inspired by the legends of Makoma, Shaka Zulu, Nike and raw speed

Maxiza

A warrior of classical antiquity, for honor, war and glory, a hybrid of Spartan/Gladiator descent

Week 11 Storytelling - Maxiza

Maxiza

He stands tall. A solid specimen. Six foot one inch. An athletic build. Not too heavy not too light. Two hundred and five pounds of muscle and legend. Like a lion amongst wolves. Surrounded by those wanting his neck. Brave and merciless. Glory conquering. Confusingly honorable and savage. A man only meant for battle and war. Scars throughout his body serve as trophies of combat. Marks of the trade. His skin light brown. Hardened and marked up. Scarred up, tatted up. They cover three fourths of his left arm. Stopping mid forearm. His descendancy of mixed blood. A mutt bathed in the war centric customs of Sparta. His two weapons a gladius sword and Spartan shield. Neither Spartan nor Gladiator. A hybrid. Allegiances to neither. Idolizing no man. Nor any God.

War Machine. A warrior beyond his time. Poetically skillfully. Fluid in movement. Classically elegant. In agility and power. The silver Spartan Shield. Offensive and defensive. Block the slash stab or launch. Bash with brute surface. Angles horizontally at a tilt for piercing brute force. Stuns by hits to the helmet. Concussion giving. Shortly incapacitating. Or acute shots to the unexposed throat. Collar bone crushing. Arm breaking. Femur cracking. The shield was too, offensive. His sword honored. Slashing and piercing. Spartan skill and expertise. Gladiatorial valor and savagery. A professional warrior. Are you not entertained.

He wore a unique helmet. A combination of the classic Spartan helmet. With the red horse hair top. Murmillo gladiator styled top flairs. But an open face so his victims could see his black eyes. An exposed chest challenging his victims to bring him death. Around his left shoulder set a great lion's head. Under it flew out the crimson cape of the Spartan. He had to wear a cape, he was epic. The left side was also his shield side. His left shin covered in metal armor as well. The left side was the guard side. On the right shoulder he wore the classic Murillo gladiator sleeve. A layered metal armor sleeve from the shoulder to the wrist. The right side the striking side. But as you know he could kill from all angles. Responsible for sending thousands to their end. Maxiza! Maxiza! Maxiza!

For Glory

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Author's Notes

Beowulf, Yamato, Makoma and constant reminders of Herculean-like legends and their labors has inspired me to make the most classic warrior of my bunch, and very well perhaps my last warrior of my mythology class writings. I am also inspired by two of my favorite movies in Gladiator and 300. I have taken many art history courses, particularly ones with heavy emphasis on classical antiquity, and the era of the Roman Empire, so I feel well informed by these past experiences, and my mental collection of classical visuals, style, and prestige, all with the possibility of my ability of adding that extra flair with my remixed creativity and modern references. The samurai and the Spartan are my favorite types of warriors ever, and the idea of the gladiator as a classical champion of the arena (some types of gladiators being based off Spartans) is an elegant romanticism of death, honor, glory, and beauty. I hope I captured even a hint of these elements with my classically based legend of a warrior Maxiza.

Coming up with the name for my warrior was really hard. I went through a creative process of brainstorming, name listing, and inspiration. I wanted it to have the reminisce of a strong classical Roman name but also be totally made up and unique to this one character. I also wanted it to either have my name in it (Michael/Mike/Mikey) or at least begin with the letter 'M' as my name starts with an 'M' haha. I also tried a name with the dope letter 'Z' while adding the word dope in the name as well haha and I came up with 'Zadopemus'. I was also influenced by the name 'Maximus', Russell Crowe's character in the movie Gladiator. Mikimus, and Mikimias (inspired from Leonidas the Spartan king, reenacted in the movie 300 by Gerard Butler) also came to mind, but I really did not like those haha. Maxiza became my warrior's name. It sounds like a strong Roman name remixed and I like that feel. Inspired by Maximus, includes the letter 'Z' and still starts with an 'M' - therefore I was content with this totally unique and made up name choice.

I chose to do this style as I feel like it is my strongest and most unique. It is the Michael style haha, a blend of dramatic poetry like lines, fragmented, a little abstract, and bold. The style worked well for me in my previous story Yamato M12. But this time I kind of mixed the poetic/fragmented Yamato M12 writing style with the Makoma, detailed paragraphs style. I also try to add a little satirical slang or modern references as I like this unique mix. I also made the design choice of making the font Times instead my Helvetica like I have used for all of the other stories. Times New Roman is a classically driven font, I mean it even has the words time (timeless) and Roman in it haha. I would keep the title Helvetica bold however, and make the last line about glory italicized, to further unify themes of bold force, and elegant classicism. I just figured I'd try to finish this story off with a bang in all facets.

I almost did not want to include a picture as I wanted this to be my most perfect warrior ever and there just aren't pictures that embody what I aim for in Maxiza. But multiple depictions give a vibe (I do not own any of the pictures I just found and arranged these sources in a aesthetically organized manner) a sort of stylistic mood board for Maxiza, with literal textures, and weapons to visual abstractions; acting as an emotionally charged collection of motifs to help further visualize Maxiza the classic, Maxiza the elegant savage, Maxiza the great.

Week 7 Storytelling - Makoma Neon

Makoma Neon

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Makoma. Agile. Fast. Quick. The embodiment of fast. Speed kills. Nike would endorse this warrior on that alone. But speed actually killed with this one, not just a competitive slogan. Lightning trapped in his calves, falcon wings on his feet like Hermes, metaphorically speaking of course. This man was pace and quickness of the elite human. Zoom.
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Notches, more of slits produced by traditional methods of scarification, covered the entirety of his left arm, collar bone, and some of his shoulder blade. Probably around 5000 or so, a tic for every soul he has conquered, every man he has defeated, every viktory he has taken.
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His eyes pitch black. Like staring into an abyss of nothing. An infinity of blackness. Dark. No pupils. Just glistening blackness.
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His right arm covered from the wrist to the bicep like a basketball sleeve, but of dried, naturally reinforced king cobra skin, now a highlighter, Nike Sparq neon in tone. Its brightness would reflect, and blur any glance of his quick hands and feet for his enemy in combat, as he had the skin on his right wrist and both ankles to mid calves. The texture of the snake skin even more present in its hardened state but now vibrant and protective, like Kevlar.

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His ambidextrous capabilities make 'em deadly from both sides, and an Assassin's Creed-like blade sheathed under his right wrist, only a handful of high-tech weaponry he possessed for as the most part he used natural tools of destruction. The blade shoot from his wrist when triggered so by a flick of it, a 11inch steel blade be the effect, sharper than volcanic rock. The technology like Cyborg of DC Comics Titans, but black and neon fluorescent highlight. This weapon was one of his favorite. Great for close range. His quick hands and the light blade made his thrusts silently lethal, and his stabs powerful. As Ali could jab he could slash. Light on his feat. The floating butterfly. A striking cobra. Multiple stabs to the side of the neck, ribs, and thighs in a blink of an eye. Death in an instant, quicker than instant rice. Slow mo cams have a hard time capturing him, Makoma too nice.
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Black neon tipped, explosive tipped skinny spears were on his back at all times. The technology of the engineered death poles were so advanced that these spears were heavy duty metal, but still so light and slender of sticks that he could have 10 easily on his back in a bundle ready to be rocketed from Makoma's cannon of an arm, like Michael Vick throwing touchdown bullets, or the great Achilles hurling spears through the battle of Troy. However, Makoma's be faster and quicker than both. Like previously stated, speed kills.
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He wore a snapback, flat bill hat into battle. He wore a snapback everywhere. Snap-backs and tattoos were a motto he relished. Style was important just as much as deadly accuracy or viktory. His hat was black with a neon logo that said "uh oh!?" in a scripty font. He switched that one out with his "dope" one of the same style. Just depended on how he felt at the time. He firmly believed in look good, feel good, kill good. Another important motto he lived by. Speaking of, he even had a part in the left side of his dead with a 5 o'clock shadow of a beard. All warriors look good too right? Past his pitch black eyes, over his mouth was a half mask that wrapped from under his nose below. This was one of the last pieces of tech he utilized. It was mechanical looking, like a Bane from the Dark Knight Rises but with more depth and parts and all black. All black with the exception of two neon circles evenly spaced around the middle of where his lips would be, about a dime in size. These were his cobra torches. His dragon breath. His spitters. They propelled acidic venom at a high pressure. Venom that would erode material and skin in minutes. Needless to say, if caught in the eyes instant blindness. This weaponry paid homage to traditional African warfare, as some tribes carried small vials of venom on the battlefield and put it in their mouth to spit in opponent's eyes from close range, rendering the enemy blind, in pain, stinging, and fucked. Makoma's mask was that x10.
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Makoma Neon. Enough said.

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Author's Notes

Inspired by the African legends of Makoma, athleticism, Shaka Zulu, speed, nature, new wave culture, slang, and myself. The first exposure I had ever got to an African type warrior was through a show called Deadliest warriors, in which it would do a scientific/poetic analysis of historical warriors paired together in statistically-driven, live action battles to the death. It was great historical entertainment, and pure gold for a boy like me. One episode featured Shaka Zulu, a legendary African war lord of the Zulu tribe. This whole show and specifically how they informed me of Shaka, inspired this story. That and the likes of Nike and their dope athletic design, along with many other sources. But I just became fond of Shaka and his speed and ruthlessness, and I noticed how there weren't many black heroes or warriors to be inspired by through history, mostly because we are not taught much about them in history and the educational system and also because most of the time these types of figures are seen of more in a negative light, being America and Europe take most of the heroism. It's a flawed system and way of thinking we have all been brought up by. Native Americans have the same struggle. For example, Black Panther is the only prevalent super hero in the comic world. But anyway, I wanted to add another warrior to the list. After reading the legends of Makoma I was primely inspired. He is the equivalent of the African Hercules. He fought and defeated many behemoths and even absorbed their powers. He eventually fought a giant mountain sprit and ascended into the sky as a legend (read more here in one of my previous studies/summaries of the legends of Makoma). Makoma and Shaka were just plain dope to me, Shaka the Achilles of Africa, and Makoma the Hercules of Africa. This goes to all the little brown boys who never grew up with a famous brown super hero warrior.

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Sources/Inspiration for a Makoma Metaphor/Style Guide.
Just an overall vibe and feel.

MJTrends: Snakeskin Fabric: Black // Oregon Ducks Rose Bowl Uniforms / Nike Pro Combat / The Superslice // SPARQ Drills submited images. // Evolution of Nike college football uniforms - Land-Grant Holy Land // Black Oregon Ducks Helmet | Helmets | Pinterest // The Need for Speed with Big Data - Businessweek // XLin Architectural and Experimental Photography // Sketchbook Part 2 // MAA EUROPEAN SPEAR // Muscle Man At Rest by Val Black Russian Tourchin // Omer Fast: 5000 Feet is the Best | Exhibitions | Rose Art Museum ... // National Geographic' Celebrates 125 Years Of Photography | Public ... // The World's most recently posted photos of nightscape - Flickr ... // Bat Tumbler Related Keywords & Suggestions - Bat Tumbler Long Tail ... // o-BLACK-SKINHEAD-570.jpg?4

Mythology Reading Evaluation

I was all about Aesop's fables. Those short stories and poetry are my favorite. Especially the haiku. But I especially love how Aesop's fables are like Disney before Disney, and have many morals and settings and animals and randomness that is just great. Makoma was cool to read as well, as Americans aren't really taught a lot about African stories. We of course know all the classic stories like Beowulf, Alice in Wonderland, The Odyssey, Arabian Nights (Aladdin), or Hercules, but our educational institutions seem to rob us of the knowledge of African, Native Americans, and Asia just to name a couple major few.

I thought there was kind of an excessive amount of commenting when it went to 7 per weekend, but more particularly with the 150 words. 60 is very doable though. But it does force the student to think more critically so keep the structure the way it is!

Reflections

I have greatly enjoyed this class, online mythology, at the University of Oklahoma, curated by the lovely Laura Gibbs. Honestly, reading is not a thing I enjoy, unless snippets, poetry, short facts, or short stories. I love that type of reading but anything past three pages and I usually get disinterested. Its a intellectual/creative romanticism thing with poetry I think haha. With this class however, there are so many options in each week-by-week unit that I did not have to read long things that I would hate. I had the choice. The freedom of this class within the system is probably the best thing about it tied with the push for creative writing and imagination. It's a beautiful class.

My project kept me interested the whole semester. I really got the chance to dive in to a subject matter I liked and wanted to do. That is how you keep a student engaged, by letting them have the freedom to express their passions or interest, while still staying inside the instructors class structure. My project was about warriors, and the class's set up went great with it, as each week or two weeks we would study stories or mythology from a different culture from around the world and throughout history. This lent itself for a wide variety of characters, influences, and styles. A nursing pool for creativity and idea. It gave my stories and warriors vastly different influential elements to pull from, making each one versatile and unique.

Reading and commenting on others student's projects was a good thing. It kind of gently forced you to learn more and interact, but while not knowing you were doing these things. It's good learning about other students and seeing how they express themselves. It was also cool to keep up with a writing blog with such content in the end. Something we could show people after we were done. A collection or diary of our writings.

I am most proud of how crazy, creative, violent, and descriptive I have become with my writings. Sometimes I jam too much into sentences, but I think this has kinda become my style and people have appreciated it. Even with critiques people still praise my unique diction and style. I am a fragment writer. I try to be poetic and dramatic. I jump from tenses and from slang to proper english. I am an abstract writer. I also love detail. Overkill detail. I always intend to paint a graphic picture with my words. So I am proud of blossoming as a unique creative writer with a distinct, yet versatile style. 

Reading Diary B - British // Alice

British Stories

Author's Notes

So a lot of great classical stories hail from Europe. King Arthur, Robin Hood, and especially Alice in Wonderland (at one point competing with Lion King for the spot as my favorite childhood Disney movie). I just loved the adventure of Alice more  than Robin Hood or King Arthur. And maybe because the depictions of the other two in their movies, Disney or live action, doesn't compare to the dope trippy randomness of Alice's many encounters and adventure.

My portfolio being about warriors it made me think of an combo Alice in Wonderland warrior comprised of the many characters and traits of them all into a mega Alice warrior haha. The random thoughts of Michael's crazy head, oh my haha. Just for a quick example: like a little blonde girls with blue eyes, many arms like the caterpillar, extra quickness from the white rabbit - almost like being faster than normal time and a giant clock shield, invisibility from the cheshire cat - along with purple and lavender horizontal war-paint streaks on her face, extra great hearing and from the crazy march hare, berserk rage ability from the crazy mad hatter, a crown and heart tipped spear from the queen of hearts, and super strength from the twins tweedledee and tweedledum haha. What a crazy character.

Alice In Wonderland

Week 6 Storytelling - Yamato M12

Yamato M12
based off of the Japanese legends of
Yamato the Great Samurai


Author's Foreword:

Yamato is a great Samurai warrior legend, compared

to the prestige of say, Hercules. There are actually a lot of similarities between the two, both being very

different styles of warriors however. They both undergo their respective labors, with both having slain great dragons, beast boars, and sirens. Yamato is the greatest samurai in Japanese legend. Here is my rendition of this legendary warrior:

Black steel and titanium shine
His metal be his life now
His four swords had always been metal
Four feet of hardened Japanese steel
But now most his body metal
His heart half metal
None know what his face appears anymore
For he bore a tech helmet full of circular sensors
More technology and metal than human anymore
He still retain his legendary skill
The skill with the samurai sword
His acute quickness that win him continuous life
And deadly blow after deadly blow to his enemy
Now he was heightened with hydraulic systems
Armor of metal and sensors
Weapons of a new age with weapons of the old
Mechanized for undeniable victory
A reminiscence of his old armor still vaguely there
Layered metal pads over his thighs and shoulders
A fierce scowl over the bottom half of his face
His demonic samurai mask
His second favorite piece behind his katanas
The mask set like a samurai gas mask
Like the jowls of snarling wolf
A scary beastly look
His enemies think him roaring with a still face
Raising the skin of the victims he rushed
The cheeks and canines of a dark lion
They know not if he be man animal or demon
They only know he be their death
A swoosh of black on black steel
A swift blunt gash of deep invisible cuts
Too fast for the human eye
At least too fast to react for most
Only the greatest warriors would last minutes
Built for effectiveness in combat
Homage to the traditional
The new Yamato would be more legendary
More unique
More savage than the old
His brain now mostly technology
His programming be elegant swift force
For a new glory
If one could call it so
A new breed of samurai
A new breed of warrior
Metal and man combined
Technology and human interwoven
All black everything
Black steel and blood
Beauty in the samurai code
For there now not be one in this upgrade
Yamato M12

Author's Notes:
I was heavily inspired by Yamato and his labors and it rekindled my love for the samurai. I have liked this warrior most (with only challenge from Spartans since the eve of the beautiful movie 300). I tried a purely descriptive, non-narrative style to write my 'story' for Yamato. I just really wanted to describe a dope warrior that could become my own, derived from the Japanese legends of Yamato the great samurai.

The honor and strict profession of a samurai is so respectable to me. They even kill themselves as a warrior's code if they are defeated fairly in battle showing no pain or fear. They fight for honor. I compete for glory. There is a crossover between those I am sure. At least that is what I tell myself haha. The Samurai way of life inspires me.

I used his original name but added M12 to indicate a version upgrade of sorts. M because of my name Michael, and 12 because it's my rugby jersey and favorite number. I did not want him to be merely mortal anymore, but a mechanized half human, mostly robotic samurai warrior. Being only human is a drag. So why not? I actually spent a good two hours some change trying to find the right photos. I am picky. I use photos to show the viewer a glimpse of what I think, and though never exact and always somewhat abstract, and for the most part the idea comes across vividly I think. I try to make words and the imagery one in the same. They feed off one another. And hopefully my assembled thumbnails of detail and idea show you somewhat of a Yamato I envision and describe.

The sources I used to compose a mood board for my ideal
Yamato M12 Tech-Weapon Samurai Beast!

Daiichi Picture by Hasan Bajramovic hbajramovic
Samurai Armor Wallpaper High Quality Resolution #xc50 ~ EasyOffer.net
Sweyda, Typography, type, custom lettering, hand lettering, vector, vector illustration, action sports |
Samurai Stock II by PhelanDavion on DeviantArt
M/R] Angelic Sentinels: F&S | OOC
MaqNox — #dope #swag #fashion #style #adidas #y3...

Reading Diary A - British // Beowulf

Beowulf

Author's Notes

We all know the story of Beowulf, at least most of us. This is to me probably the most legendary legend ever, that's right, I used legend twice in one sentence. I reference Hercules a lot, but mostly cause of his popularity, thank to Disney, but Beowulf is the legend of all legends (that's right, said it again) in its most purist form if you ask me. It doesn't sugar coat or censor, it certainly boosts and over exaggerates, and the warrior's feats are epic = all qualities a legend must have. It also has beautiful, descriptive imagery and writing to go along with the action packed tasks. The writer Strafford Riggs lays out an almost movie like script in such detailed passages of writing that I hope to even halfway emulate. Here is my favorite passage in which Beowulf and Grendel go savage on one another:

"Beowulf, the lord of Geatsland had fastened both mighty hands upon the monster's arm and, with a sudden twist that forced a groan of agony from Grendel's lips, leaped behind him, forcing the imprisoned arm high up Grendel's back, and the beast fell prone on the floor.

Now came the final struggle, and sweat poured from Beowulf, while from Grendel there oozed a slimy sap that smelled like vinegar and sickened Beowulf. But he clung to the monster's arm, and slowly, slowly, he felt its great muscles and sinews give way, and as his foot found Grendel's neck, he prayed to all the gods for help and called upon his father Ecgtheow for strength to sustain him in this desperate effort.

And the mighty arm of Grendel gave way in the terrible hands of Beowulf, and, with a piercing shriek that shook the gilded rafters of Heorot, Grendel stumbled forward, leaving in Beowulf's hands the gory arm."

Detailed. Written well. Exciting. Epic. Legendary. Beowulf. Beautiful.

Beowulf

Week 10 Storytelling - Spirit

Spirit

He peered over the misty mountains of the Northwest coast. The thick vapor was his stealth. The days stayed like this by his doing as he prayed to the Thunder God for this gloom as it would eventually be to his advantage in the death to come. The Thunder God looked favorably upon him, as he granted this cloudy coverage.

Spirit waited. Perched on the mountain. Waiting for death to come. It was cold. He could see his breath. These were his surroundings. His forest. He thrived in these conditions. He was a shadow. A hawk. A warrior of the Northwest. A solemn individual that never spoke. Only listened. Listened to the forest. To the trees. To the wolves. To the hawks. To the invaders. He was bred to be a warrior. The last of his slaughtered tribe. Now he wander the Northwest looking to conquer those who had done this blasphemy so many years ago.

Spirit the Pacific Northwest Warrior

He would have to live with that pain forever, as he was immortal. The only way he could die was in battle. The glorious way. These parameters set upon him by the Thunder God. With this immortality came abilities. Spirit abilities. Hawk vision, and pearl white eyes to show. Like bolts of lightning were trapped in his eyes. The strength and cunning of 10 normal men. And inhuman movement like he was gliding when he fought. His attire all black. The only things not were his white-shot eyes and his face. The entirety of his face from his forehead to his neck were teal. Pacific Native War paint. Though he craved stealth he still wanted his adversary to have a clear target for his face. A challenge to all. A notion of confidence, and a visually poetic hue of a war cry. Wolf fur and Feathers surrounded his traps like a scarf. He carried a great spear, two body lengths long, adorned with feathers, painted all black. Three teal bands were painted closer to the sharpened orca-vertebrae tip. He carried a torso sized shield carved from a great orcas skull. It was carved into a giant stylized hawk painted all black, in the style the Pacific Northwest Natives were known for. His last piece was his carved hawk helmet that cover his head from the forehead to the back of his skull. This too was painted black and magnificently war torn from battle.

Finally he saw gleams of spark and orange light in the heavy mist from atop his mountain. He perched days waiting for this. For he would finally come face-to-face with his tribes murderers. This time he would be death-bringer. Like a raven atop the reapers shoulder. A teal-faced black sea-hawk ready to stretch out his talons and rip the life from those who have scarred him. The lights were coming towards him but were too far out to see him. Spirit  closed his eyes. Everything went slow. He took in a breath, cold air coming from his lungs. He opened his eyes... and charged the lights from the downward slant of the mountain to the misty field his enemies walked.

A spear whizzed through the air, cutting, through the dew of the mist. Slink! Right through the face of the first double-horned helmet. Roars followed and a rush towards where the spear came from. Spirit ran at them with a silent ferocious intent. Everything went slow again. He could see them, they could not see him, but they were charging, stomping, ready to kill for their leader had just been pierced through the face with a long spear... Vikings... Their thundering roars spit at the unseen silent assassin, and his teal face and white-lighting eyes. Was Spirit ready for a glorious death or we he leave battered with revenge and honor for his fallen tribe. The oppositions still running at one another. Charging in an elegant war-ready scene. Everything goes black...

Author's Note
Spirit is inspired from the stories, style and culture of Pacific Northwest Native Americans. I tried another style of writing. Pretty traditional for me, but in my head more like a movie as I started to get to the end of it. I like this kinda, slo-mo, abstract, visual, screenplay, war-scene of Spirit and the Vikings. I tired to keep the story pretty mysterious. I went back and fourth with contemplations of making the last sentence "The Vikings would meet Valhalla... " and taking out the previous word "Viking" to only reveal that Spirit's opposition was in fact, Vikings only at the end in the last sentence. I'm still contemplating it. I like the abstractness of the story. It will be harder to follow than any of my others but that is conceptual as Spirit is the most mysterious of my warriors thus far. I am also still contemplating his name and trying to think of something better.

The picture was a great source of inspiration. It was intact the primary source of my story. I find that my best stories come from visuals. My mind goes off and sparks up stories from what I see as I am a very visual person. Hints me being a graphic designer and all. New found creative writer as well maybe haha. The visual style of Pacific Northwest Native art was also a major inspiration. Their color motifs, and abstracted depictions of animals, specifically the hawk, bear, and orca, are just amazing and fresh. They definitely have one of the more unique style of any culture. These types of animals and the specific style is seen all together on their famous totem poles. Teal, crimson, white and black, and wood grain are their primary colors, and heavy black abstract line work tie it all together for a very unique style. Spirit was definitely a fun one to make, and I hope the conceptual thoughts of mine come through to the reader.

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Image sources:
warrior - http://www.spiritwrestler.com/catalog/index.php?artists_id=281
style/print - 12X12 Giclée Print Northwest Native by NorthwestNativeGifts

Reading Diary B - British North America Native Stories

British North America

The Burning of the World

Once all the world was burned. Only a man and his mother and his sister were saved. Before the fire there were many people on earth. Then the young man fell out with his father, and they became enemies. The young man had heard that all the world was to be burned, but his father did not believe it.

Now the young man made a bow and arrows. He shot one arrow to the west, and one to the east, and one to the north, and one to the south. The places where the arrows fell were the four corners of a bit of ground which would not burn. The young man told everybody who wanted to be saved from the fire to come onto that square of land. Many did not believe the world would be burned, so they would not come.

After a while the fire came. They could hear it. They were encamped by the side of a big lake. By and by all the birds and animals came running to that bit of ground marked out by the arrows. The old man had quarreled with his son, so he would not come.

The fire was very hot. All the water boiled because it was so hot. After a while the fire was put out, and the water had settled down. Everything had to be started over again.

Now there were many animals on this patch of ground, and the man named some of them and told them what to do.

He put Beaver in the water, but Rabbit wanted to live in the water. The man said, "No."

Then Rabbit jumped into the water and the man had to pull him out. He said to Rabbit, "Your legs are too long. Even if you do eat willow like Beaver, you don't go about in the water properly."

Squirrel wanted to be Bear. He did all he could to be Bear. He argued and chattered a great deal about it. The man said, "Oh, you're too noisy. You wouldn't be a good Bear." He said also, "If you are Bear, you are so noisy that when people come again, they will kill too many of you. A bear must keep quiet. He has many enemies."

Then Squirrel began to weep. He wept until his eyes were white. Even today Squirrel has eyes bright and swollen from weeping.

The man made Bear then, because he was nice and wise and quiet.

Somebody wanted to be Caribou—nobody remembers just who wanted that.

Then Deer was made, and made so swift that he could outrun all pursuers.

After the man had finished making all the animals, he put a mark on them, so people would know what they were. Then the man had to give all the people new names. His mother he called Robin, because she was friendly. His sister he called Golden-winged Woodpecker, because she was beautiful. He called himself Blackbird because he would only come every spring.

Author's Note

Interesting story. My favorite part was squirrel wanting to be bear. It made me laugh a little at the thought. Now I could have shown an image of the world burning. And trust me I wanted to, it was temping (some people just want to see the world burn) but comedy beat intensity today and a colorful picture of a bear and a squirrel was chosen instead as that is my favorite part of the whole story haha.

Bear & Squirrel

Reading Diary A - Pacific Northwest Native Stories

Pacific Northwest

Three Raven stories

The Origin of DaylightNanaimo version of Tlingit legend
When the earth was very new and young, it was dark and cold and gray. Even the stars were black. There was no light anywhere for Gull kept it in a small box which he guarded carefully.

His cousin, Raven, was tired of the dark. He wished for the daylight.

One day when Gull and Raven were out walking, Raven thought, "I wish Gull would run a thorn into his foot."

Hardly had he thought so, when, in the darkness, Gull stepped on a thorn. "Sqenán! My foot!" cried Gull.

"A thorn?" asked Raven. "Let me see it. I will take it out." But it was so dark Raven could not see the thorn. He asked Gull to open the box and make it light.

Gull opened it just a little way and the light was very faint. Raven said, "You must give me more light."

Gull answered, "Sqenán!"

So Raven pretended not to see the thorn. Instead of pulling it out, he pushed it in deeper and deeper, saying, "You must give me more light."

"Sqenán! Sqenán! My foot! My foot!" cried Gull. Raven pushed the thorn in deeper and deeper until Gull at last opened the box. That is the way the daylight came.
___

Owl and RavenEskimo

OWL and Raven were close friends. One day Raven made a new dress, dappled black and white, for Owl. Owl, in return, made for Raven a pair of whalebone boots and then began to make for her a white dress.

When Owl wanted to fit the dress, Raven hopped about and would not sit still. Owl became very angry and said, "If I fly over you with a blubber lamp, don't jump." Raven continued to hop about.

At last Owl became very angry and emptied the blubber lamp over the new white dress. Raven cried, "Qaq! Qaq!" Ever since that day Raven has been black all over.
___

The Spell of the Laughing RavenKlamath

At "dance place" when the Klamath Lake people danced, many people were there. Kemush, Old Man of the Ancients, went there. Then Old Raven laughed at them, laughed when they danced, and all people dancing there became rocks.

Gray Wolf entered Kitti above, from the north. There he stopped and lay down, although not yet having reached his home. In full dress, at that spot, moccasins with beads on toe, stopped and rested.

Then Old Grizzly approached Old Gray Wolf while lying asleep. And Old Grizzly stole from Gray Wolf his moccasins, beads also, and put them on to go to the fishing place.

Upon this, Old Gray Wolf, waking up, threw Old Grizzly down hill. He rolled him down over the rocks for having robbed him of moccasins and beads also. Thus killed he Old Grizzly.

Upon this, the Klamath Lake people began fighting the Northerners because Old Grizzly had been killed by Old Gray Wolf.

Then Old Raven laughed at them when fighting and they became rocks.
___

Author's Notes

These stories caught my eye most from the Pacific Northwest Native stories. I chose to do the Pacific NW in the first place because I recalled reading about their vastly different customs and color palette from elements such as totem pols to the very stylized depictions of animals, and their tattoo like abstractions. I also have played rugby with some Pacific Islanders, also know as Polys, including places like Hawaii, Fiji, Samoa, etc, as rugby is a huge part of their culture as well. These are generations of course and not all of the customs and cultural stories match up with the stories I've read. This units stories particularly match up with the states of Washington and Oregon.

These short story formats also made me think of Aesop's Fables. I love this format. And having three to directly compare and contrast with their respective cultures attached to them is a treat. Like Pacific NW Native Aesop fables, just really cool to me.

The below picture is of a sculpture of a Raven Dancer. It reminded me of the Black Swan as well but with a Native essence of solidarity. I love black on black. The matte and gloss contrast is so beautiful. I want to possibly make a warrior out of this little guy as it has inspired me.

Pacific Northwest

Raven Dancer

Week 9 Storytelling - The 3 Native

The 3 Native

In the wild land of early North America when there were only Native peoples there lived three vastly different Native warriors. Some say they were spirits, some say they were deities,  some say they were reincarnates of demigods fallen from the sky. No one knew their exact origins though. What was know however, is that each warriors protected one of the three directions of North America. West, East, and Central. Not as a pack but as individuals. Legends in their own rights. Unbenownced to one another but all sons of the motherland. All natural, 100% American muscle. Weapons of nature and Native culture. Hunters. Warriors. Beasts.

They were not known by names. They had none. For they did not need be known, only feared. Feared from all who try to claim natural North American. Any who tried to molest its natural state and freedom would in turn be conquered themselves. Accounts of what these warriors look like are so far and few between as only those who challenged them or the land would ever see them, and many do not return home. 

One warrior wore a great wolf's head over a grizzly head. He believed he drew the predatorial spirit from these animals that would aid his savagery and tactic in battle. Throwing tomahawks and a bash club were his weapons of choice. The bash stick was like a modern baseball bat but with a sculpture like circle at the end of the straight-to-curved weapon. It was a blunt tool of force. Cracking skulls and shattering femurs. His preferred ways to destroy with the bash club were by smashing the skull's temple, or the collapsing the ribs with quick blunt force. The trauma he dealt was obviously deadly, like the power of a bear's slash and swing at its prey. Tomahawks to the achilles tendon was another one of his favorites, as the enemy was left unable to walk and on the ground agonizing. He would usually finish them off with the bash stick to the dome.

One warrior was rumored to be more demon spirit than man protector. He was a ruthless killer. Just as much an animal as a man. His left arm/shoulder/trap was that of a grizzly bears. From the massive shoulders and size, to the brown fur. Complete with giant bear claws and bear muscle, with brute slashing strength. He could tear trees in half. He had the roar of a grizzly. In battle he fought more beast like than like a man. He was a brute hulk. He ripped the faces off poor souls. He broke necks with sheer force. He breathed embers. Spark and ash roared from his jaws with the same effects as flame throwing flames. Victims caught in the wind of this deadly magnificence would  smoke up with a plague like sweep of embers setting them ablaze while spreading throughout their whole body, further disintegrating flesh. His eyes burned with the same coal eyes as his breath. What was he? A demon? A spirit? A man? No one is for sure. But what was for sure, was that he was a fierce protector. A force to be reckoned with.

One warrior was a skilled killer with the bow. Maroon war paint covered his face, down to his shoulders, streaking to just below his chest. He had one maroon dyed feather on his head. He had a tattoo sleeve on his left arm of 100 maroon arrows scattering in every hectic direction. Each of his arrows was all maroon from the arrow tips to the, shaft and feathers. He loved the bow and arrow. And he loved death. He also had a jagged black-obsidian volcanic-rock dagger. It was sharper than a katana, like hardened black glass. He was deadly with the bow. The best. Perhaps the most vicious of the protectors as well. He would rage with the bow. Firing shots off like an old time machine gun. He didn't mind taking a few arrows out, sliding them between his finders, and hand-to-hand, jabbing and striking opponents with them as he slaughtered groups at a time even. His obsidian blade would do just the same, but would flay tendons, flesh and muscle like a knife through butter. But his favorite was the bow. From 500 yards out, or 10 foot away, it did not matter. Bow kills would always take the most fatalities for this warrior.

The 3 Native. The savage Native American protectors. War cry they soon die. Fear the Culture. Fear North America. Fear the legends. The 3 Native.

____

Author's Notes

Inspired by stories and themes from Native Stories and mythology.

I thought about making this story set in the far future where things in North America went back to a more natural state and Natives thrived, and technology became decrepit and dysfunctional so traditional skills of hand-to-hand came back, and the traditional Native warriors were back to top of the food chain in America. But I wanted a little bit more history so I decided not to do so, but still a good idea I thought.

I also had other crazy ideas like one warrior being the alpha of a wolf pack, commanding them at his whim to kill. 'Sick em' and they pursued. Scores of wolves. But I decided not to have animals, just references, or parts of them.

I wanted to pay homage to the buffalo and have someone wear a buffalo skull or something. But chose not. Other pre story notes included weapons or elements of an bald eagle, or mountain lion. Like feathers or talons or claws. Maybe a great eagle talon dagger. Cool ideas that didn't make the final cut.

My first revision had four warriors and was called "the 4 Native." Here is the description of the warrior I took out: "One warrior had a weapon like no other. He did carry the traditional native spear and a one foot diameter traditional war shield, but his specialty was a great stag antler, forearm attachment. The antler strapped to his wrist and forearm and was an extension of the arm, extending an extra two feet, with sharp antler tips jutting out in their many organic directions. This warrior was all about optimal piercing weapons and thrusting strikes. His forearm antler-blade was a weapon of nature. He too was as agile and majestic as the stag, but that all stopped with the aggressive tips of his weapons. He pierced throats, lungs, thighs, and hearts with his stag horn. He threw his spear one-hundred yards with deadly accuracy and puncturing force. The strike. The impale. He was the agile piercer." He just wasn't as dynamic to me.


I also almost combined the remaining three warriors to add a single one into my portfolio. I was gonna somehow incorporate this by having a forward of his ability or curse or whatever that made him shift forms, or shift warrior type after every morning's wake. I didn't like this one too much. Then I just thought each style/equipment could have been just things he went back and fourth on. I didn't like that as much either cause the identities were vastly different. So I just kept it to the three and I am happy with that decision. I like these three in their own unique ways. But if I did figure out some way to combine them I would have named 'em Amerika, Native (but probably not), or Tso'i U-ka-dv or "three face" in Cherokee. I do wish I could combine em somehow, they are just so different and cool though. Oh well. Ya win some ya win some. 

Another really really cool idea was to bring elements of other bad ass historical warriors into the mix like one of the protectors having a fallen Spartan's shield or samurai's katana from when that respective warrior ventured to North America only to meet his death from one of the three Native. A Native American warrior with a katana just sounds so dope.

And lastly I pondered back and fourth to if I should name the Native warriors. Maybe? Maybe not? In the end I decided not too. But names like Burning grizzly, Maroon, Stag, Boom or Boom-ie-ay (with the Bash stick) came to mind. I could have gone crazy with those but I preferred them mysterious, unknown and unconquered.

Native Warrior