The Book of Vasche Vexvelt

Departing for Vexvelt. Souls on Fire & Blue Spanish Eyes. By Moreno Franco

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science fiction starship

As I board the starship - Inter-Stellar Vessel "Nectanebo 1"...

“Blue Spanish Eyes” by Al-Martino. One of Donna's favorite songs that I sang to her.

Nectanebo I was the first king of Ancient Egypt. That is his cartouche (name), on the side of the ship.

About the picture:  I always loved this song by Al Martino It paints a "tearful farewell'. Yes? Okay. So I have a ship and a theme song.
Who are these people? These lovers? Where is this moment taking place?
Farewells and heartbreak have been around for thousands of years. And will, no doubt continue, to be a part of Human life.

Everyone knows what a departure hall looks like. So I will just create one about 300 years in the future. Not too unbelievable - but just far out enough to make the future appear as mundane as today is. In the enlarged image you can see space technicians at work around the ship - that's as mundane as any international airport today.

The future is Not as Futuristic as It is Cracked Up to Be!

Souls On Fire

My fantasies were made real by you, my precious Doña Strega – by knowing you, touching you - breath was breathed into the dust and the dream got up and walked - and danced right into my life.

I live in this place in a beautiful green garden on the edge of a river delta on the edge of a desert. The edge of nowhere. The sand is for ever. The sky is forever. Love forever stars forever endless and unbounded ecstacy of the spirit watching you everyday run in the dunes or wash your serpentine body in the river.

. . . like watching the other you do that slow lazy dance. In a smoke filled cigar lounge on the edge of the ocean. Sandy hot beach on one side and endless ocean forever like your expression of your love for me, so langiud and sultry as a violin - and just touching you.

. . . and after dinner as I play my guitar as I play your body. Listen to you sing till your heart breaks - es una historia do amor - and I watch your Spanish dancers feet thru the green leather boots, dance the pattern that plays the guitar - I have no control - you drive me - beyond my control -

. . . those swaying hips churn and grind without effort. Speak of ancient millenia past and passed. Those hips whisper all the seduction that women have told men since, well, since Eve. They taunt, invite, challenge, whisper, beckon, cajole, beg, demand - surrender. Utterly.

. . . lead me away from the city of my mind, thru the bazaars, and coffee shops, down some winding lane and into a place called "You". In this secret garden behind the walls, to listen to you offer up your song of joy, as you dance the Eternal Dance of Kali -

. . . and out here on the edge of the forest in the cold morning air, the mist still rising from the river, I listen to your breathing in my air. I don’t want to turn and look at you. I am afraid that you will not be there for my eyes. Ridiculous I know, with our physical entanglement as it is – how could you ever get away.

Donna Darkwolf - My Mysterious Spanish Lady

Donna Darkwolf - My Mysterious Spanish Lady

Blue Spanish Eyes -
"Teardrops are falling from your Spanish eyes
Please, please don't cry
This is just adios and not goodbye

Soon I'll return
Bringing you all the love your heart can hold
Please say "sí, sí"
Say you and your Spanish eyes will wait for me".

. . . your turn to play the guitar, Conchita - you sing and I will dance for you – and – seduce you - I have waited all my life for this. For You. If I have to, I can wait all Eternity. I have no choice. For, simply Dona Conchita, I love you.

. . . on the table, on the floor on the wall in the bath at the carnival in the kitchen on the back of the car in the restaurant toilet on the beach in your office in the park in the ocean in the traffic - anywhere - anywhere so long as it is with you - only.

Dust Dreams

The Sleeper slept
And dreamed that the dust got up and walked
But when the Sleeper awoke
No one told the dust

My lungs taste the air of time
Blown past falling sand -

I on the other hand practiced a lot of Fantasy. I dreamed of an painted Donna a thousand time - since I was fourteen.
And then one night I found her.
And we were married within the week.
For all these years.

This is probably how I found her when
NEXT >> I Dreamed of Scheherazade

Mixing Science Fiction with Ancient History

Rather than following the fairly common practice by illustrators of science fiction themes: multi-object hardware and mind-numbingly complex scenery -
I opted for including some elements of of the historic in my visions of "the future".

So why not have a futuristic scene with a far-out space ship emblazoned with ancient historic markings as its registration, honoring a King who has been dead for - well 4000 years by the time this picture "happens".

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