One more reason I love Green Lake
Some of you know that I'm a fan of the comic Elfquest; horribly, some of you may also remember when I used to run around the playground howling and pretending I was communicating telepathically with the other 'elves' across the Big Toy. Viva la geekdom.
Nonetheless, it is still a touchstone of beautiful graphic art and strong storytelling, way ahead of its time while still honoring the fantasy roots of Tolkien, et al, and deserves accolades as such. Some of the feel of the early comics (the hairdos for both male and female elves being somewhat "Charlie's Angels" meets "Dynasty," the free love idea definitely springing from the late 60's-swinging 70's mindset) is dated, but it doesn't really hurt the series any more than Mark Hamill's shaggy pageboy (shagboy?) hurts the overall appeal of "Star Wars."
But the reason I bring it up now is because of an editorial of sorts written by Richard Pini, the scribe and production guru half of the WaRP Graphics couple (his wife Wendy being the artist). In it, he was explaining that a particular scene in the first half of the original series, a lovely little interlude between Cutter (the white-haired, vine-wrapped gent in the first pic, and the protagonist of the series) and his lifemate Leetah (the lady in red next to him), was actually based on an event that happened in the real word of the Pinis. He described it as being the sort of serendipitous thing that you come across by accident, perhaps on a whim you follow, and it ends up moving you deeply. I really liked that description, and always think of it when those little extraordinary moments happen in an otherwise ordinary day.
The following are the pages in question from the original run of the comics; lucky for me and the purposes of this blog, they're digitizing all the pages and posting them on the Elfquest website for all to see. Parental Guidance Alert: the following pages should not be seen by kids, although I was probably all of eleven the first time I read them. Romance junkie even then....
Nonetheless, it is still a touchstone of beautiful graphic art and strong storytelling, way ahead of its time while still honoring the fantasy roots of Tolkien, et al, and deserves accolades as such. Some of the feel of the early comics (the hairdos for both male and female elves being somewhat "Charlie's Angels" meets "Dynasty," the free love idea definitely springing from the late 60's-swinging 70's mindset) is dated, but it doesn't really hurt the series any more than Mark Hamill's shaggy pageboy (shagboy?) hurts the overall appeal of "Star Wars."
But the reason I bring it up now is because of an editorial of sorts written by Richard Pini, the scribe and production guru half of the WaRP Graphics couple (his wife Wendy being the artist). In it, he was explaining that a particular scene in the first half of the original series, a lovely little interlude between Cutter (the white-haired, vine-wrapped gent in the first pic, and the protagonist of the series) and his lifemate Leetah (the lady in red next to him), was actually based on an event that happened in the real word of the Pinis. He described it as being the sort of serendipitous thing that you come across by accident, perhaps on a whim you follow, and it ends up moving you deeply. I really liked that description, and always think of it when those little extraordinary moments happen in an otherwise ordinary day.
The following are the pages in question from the original run of the comics; lucky for me and the purposes of this blog, they're digitizing all the pages and posting them on the Elfquest website for all to see. Parental Guidance Alert: the following pages should not be seen by kids, although I was probably all of eleven the first time I read them. Romance junkie even then....
Unfortunately, nothing that hot happened to me last night during my walk, but there is *some* symmetry. I got off work and decided to get a little exercise, chilly though it was. I figured I'd just do a little mosey rather than my usual six-miler down to Green Lake and back, but as I got out and got going, the air was crisp, I felt good, and I decided just to go ahead and hit the lake.
Imagine my surprise and pleasure when I crossed Aurora at that crazy mid-lane light and, scooting down the ramp toward the interior path, found something almost as magical. Normally, once it hits dark, people tend to stay away from the low and tree-hidden paths by the lake...there's a lot of rumors about what happens in those trees at night, and it's just good sense if you're by yourself (and a woman to boot.) That being said, I've run around the exterior path many a night and never come across anything remotely worrisome, but then again, some nights I just have a feeling I shouldn't go, and I don't. So who's to say what I might've avoided?
Regardless, last night I was shocked to see that the interior path was almost as busy as it is during daylight hours...families with strollers, dog walkers, runners of all shape...and as I descended, the reason became clear. Some group had put luminarias up around the entirety of the lake, all 2.5 miles or so, on both sides of the path. It absolutely took my breath away. And of course, all I had with me was my camera phone. Since I've never let that stop me before, here's what came of it, with a little tweakage by Paint to try and bring the contrast out:
*******************************************************
Right as I first came down the path, with Aurora to my left.
Simply can't do justice to the way the path curves and the candles lit it up.
They'd also lit all of the boat docks out into the water.
************************************************************
It was so gorgeous, and so unexpected...the sort of thing that people ought to do more often, a sort of urban guerilla art, but with the intention of pleasing rather than inciting disturbance. (The latter has an important place, but it has enough proponents and I don't think there can ever be enough beauty in the world.) In this case, I know it was some sort of organized event, as there were two separate areas near each boat dock where people were singing Christmas carols and gathering with hats and light necklaces, but the fact that I came upon it unawares only heightened the experience. And my thoughts, filled with 'fairy lights' and twilight dreamery, immediately popped back to that passage in Elfquest. Funny how art in all forms will embed in your life in ways you never expect.
Imagine my surprise and pleasure when I crossed Aurora at that crazy mid-lane light and, scooting down the ramp toward the interior path, found something almost as magical. Normally, once it hits dark, people tend to stay away from the low and tree-hidden paths by the lake...there's a lot of rumors about what happens in those trees at night, and it's just good sense if you're by yourself (and a woman to boot.) That being said, I've run around the exterior path many a night and never come across anything remotely worrisome, but then again, some nights I just have a feeling I shouldn't go, and I don't. So who's to say what I might've avoided?
Regardless, last night I was shocked to see that the interior path was almost as busy as it is during daylight hours...families with strollers, dog walkers, runners of all shape...and as I descended, the reason became clear. Some group had put luminarias up around the entirety of the lake, all 2.5 miles or so, on both sides of the path. It absolutely took my breath away. And of course, all I had with me was my camera phone. Since I've never let that stop me before, here's what came of it, with a little tweakage by Paint to try and bring the contrast out:
*******************************************************
Right as I first came down the path, with Aurora to my left.
Simply can't do justice to the way the path curves and the candles lit it up.
They'd also lit all of the boat docks out into the water.
************************************************************
It was so gorgeous, and so unexpected...the sort of thing that people ought to do more often, a sort of urban guerilla art, but with the intention of pleasing rather than inciting disturbance. (The latter has an important place, but it has enough proponents and I don't think there can ever be enough beauty in the world.) In this case, I know it was some sort of organized event, as there were two separate areas near each boat dock where people were singing Christmas carols and gathering with hats and light necklaces, but the fact that I came upon it unawares only heightened the experience. And my thoughts, filled with 'fairy lights' and twilight dreamery, immediately popped back to that passage in Elfquest. Funny how art in all forms will embed in your life in ways you never expect.
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