A bit gothic, this one, perhaps a little too far into rock-album cover territory. I have to work quite hard, sometimes, to avoid indulging my inner headbanger, whose tastes can be a little questionable, and who gravitates too rapidly to the cheap, easy thrills of the dark and the portentous. As I have said before, scratch the veneer and underneath I'm still in large part an amalgam of various small-town youth-culture tribes circa 1971 (mind you, '71 was a very good year, and bound to leave its mark on any impressionable youth who had the good fortune to be there). Occasionally, though, it's good to let him do his thing, otherwise he just sits in his room in the back of my head all day with the music on far too loud. It's no wonder I've got tinnitus.
In reality, those imposing antlers -- about ten feet across -- are attached to a complete Irish elk skeleton in Bristol Museum, but I thought they looked better separated off and floating in space. I've no idea what they weigh, but if they're solid and made of the same bony stuff as a red deer antler, then they are very heavy indeed. It's hard to imagine going through life (or, more to the point, a forest or even very tall grass) with a pair of those attached to your head. Talk about your charismatic megafauna...
The crows were scavenging for scraps at a picnic spot on top of the Avon Gorge, and thus easier to approach than is usually permitted. Odin's ravens, Hugin and Munin, did come to mind, but I resisted the temptation to scatter runes all over the place. Even when rocking the gothic, restraint is a virtue...
[scheduled post -- out of town until mid-week]
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