Process Of Teatro Grottesco

[Aeron]

[unknown]

Aeron, I was going to make a Button to link to TLO (that people can post on myspace, or their appropriate pages) using a smidge of your Theater of the Grotesque...the portion with the artist in the front. Would it be okay if I do this?

	TLO THOMAS LIGOTTI ONLINE

[Aeron]

Sure no problem.

[unknown]

Sweet! Thanks! (I'll be sure to show you the results)

[Aeron]

I had this idea that the creative part of the artist that is removed from themselves upon witnessing the Theater, it becomes this new organic thing, something built out of creativity that feeds on itself. I was trying to imply a form of assimilation of that creativity into the Theater itself. I thought of the white light as a mouth, doorway that consumes. Each of the remains of the artists become something like a planet, an isolated plane of imagination. And the center light something like a sun gone supernova, consuming everything in its path. So in the area above the theater floor I'm trying to construct a sense of planets and stars that are swirling around the sun like mouth. I think I got carried away and I might go back to the more minimal space I'd had previously. But the dozens of forms drifting about does add to the overwhelming vision that I'd imagine one to have when witnessing the Theater Of The Grotesque.

Here I have gathered a large selection of chunks of white areas that I've cut out onto a seperate image then dragged in to the Theater picture and maipulated to resemble stars.

[Dr. Bantham]

Quote Originally Posted by Aeron";p=&quot

And the center light something like a sun gone supernova, consuming everything in its path. So in the area above the theater floor I'm trying to construct a sense of planets and stars that are swirling around the sun like mouth.

[O]utside the ordered universe [is] that amorphous blight of nethermost confusion which blasphemes and bubbles at the center of all infinity—the boundless daemon sultan Azathoth, whose name no lips dare speak aloud, and who gnaws hungrily in inconceivable, unlighted chambers beyond time and space amidst the muffled, maddening beating of vile drums and the thin monotonous whine of accursed flutes...
—H. P. Lovecraft, The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath

Perhaps the heavenly bodies of the artists are the Other Gods, having transcended the muse itself, mindlessly convulsing in the ecstasy of pure inspiration as they orchestrate the mad orbital dance that is the Court of Azathoth.

[SwansSoilMe/SwansSaveMe]

You guys are scarin' me!

(i like it)

[The Silent One]

Quote Originally Posted by Dr. Bantham";p=&quot

Quote Originally Posted by Aeron";p=&quot And the center light something like a sun gone supernova, consuming everything in its path. So in the area above the theater floor I'm trying to construct a sense of planets and stars that are swirling around the sun like mouth. [O]utside the ordered universe [is] that amorphous blight of nethermost confusion which blasphemes and bubbles at the center of all infinity—the boundless daemon sultan Azathoth, whose name no lips dare speak aloud, and who gnaws hungrily in inconceivable, unlighted chambers beyond time and space amidst the muffled, maddening beating of vile drums and the thin monotonous whine of accursed flutes... —H. P. Lovecraft, The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath Perhaps the heavenly bodies of the artists are the Other Gods, having transcended the muse itself, mindlessly convulsing in the ecstasy of pure inspiration as they orchestrate the mad orbital dance that is the Court of Azathoth.

Speaking of such, I have been wanting to express my opinion on Hastur/the King in Yellow (relevance is the Unspeakable has a fondness for artists):

The true form of Hastur (say it not! O.K... say it not on Tuesdays...) is, in my view the purest essence of entropic decay. The form seen before the mask is removed is probably the possessed body of some lost derelict. It smells of an over-prolonged autumn's perfume of noble rot, and of moist, cooling earth, rich with the blood of long-deceased animalia, combined with a hint of bone-dust and that slight acrid taste of burnt hair. The robes of this fellow seem to be of ancient finery, but the opulence is long faded from it. Only memories of the most sombre decadence cling to it. For CoC players: No immediate SAN loss, unless one succeeds an Idea roll and realises that this creature's hands are awefully pale; 1/1D2. If the creature reveals itself, taking off the mask that hides its face, it reveals the gaunt face of bloodless cadaver. CoC investigators: 1D4/1D10. The corpse will then start to crumble into dust as a gail picks up. The dust will expand to greater and greater size. The architecture of nearby buildings will flux and twist. Flowers will change colour, then wither unto dust. Trees in any season will flouish into the myriad tones of an early fall. The smell of both sweet perfume and the charnel will fill the air. At its epicenter, a mad and terrible storm, the occasional squirming tendril of mixed flesh, smog, and fiery stardust appearing and disappearing. And Derleth thought it was just the Big C's cousin or whatever. Now, fellow Cthulhuites, is something truly deserving of 1D10/D100 sanity loss!

Sorry about the tangent. It was somewhat relevant. Decay, madness, artistry, entropy, decadence, the audient void....