Chris Gill

Posts Tagged ‘Chris Gill’

AQUATICA – Part Three

In Fiction, Short Story on May 12, 2013 at 6:21 pm

Aquatica

Onyx shows Sebastian her mesmerising underwater world in the final part of my sci-fi/fantasy short story 

As Onyx opened her mouth to speak, the gaping pothole above their heads began to close up the way a flower does when it snows.

“NO!” the man cried out lifting his arms in the air while trying to hoist his body above the water. He crashed back down into the inky waves as the vacuum completely vanished from sight.

For a few minutes the pair bobbed upon the ocean’s surface in silence. The man shook his head in dismay while Onyx looked on sympathetically. She then reached out her hand and offered him a warm smile.

“My name is Onyx,” she said softly. “And to answer your question, I’m an aquan.”

As the girl spoke, Sebastian noticed thin slits running down the sides of her neck that moved as she breathed. He gasped, realising what they were.

“Are you some sort of mermaid or something?” he asked, bewildered.

Onyx shook her head.

“No. Mermaids are from fairytales, which is exactly where I thought humans were from…”

Before the pair could continue, the bionic dolphin that Onyx had been chasing a day earlier burst out from the water’s surface and began to float. A large section of its metallic flesh was missing and a thick black substance oozed out of it like pus from a wound.

Onyx’s cold blood ran even colder as she realised her mechanical friend was no longer functioning. Tears poured down her cheeks the way a waterfall crashes against the side of a cliff.

The sensitive girl reached for the dismantled dolphin but was stopped by Sebastian.

“Don’t touch it!” he yelled, “that stuff is poisonous!” Onyx pulled her hands away and turned towards the handsome stranger.

“You know what this stuff is?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

Sebastian turned back to the dolphin, which sparked a little and made a whirring noise where the oily substance was coming from, before falling silent and sinking back into the ocean.

“The Waste,” he said simply. “The toxic leftovers from our world.”

A chill ran down Onyx’s spine as she realised the human was connected to the mysterious darkness that had spilled out of the sky.

“I’m sorry,” he continued, “I didn’t realise…” Onyx stopped Sebastian mid-sentence by lunging forwards and landing her mouth on his. It wasn’t exactly the response he had expected, but he wasn’t complaining…

Sebastian quickly realised however that it was not a kiss he was being treated to by the mesmerising sea dweller. He flinched in terror as he felt a slimy, worm-like form being passed from Onyx’s mouth into his. The thick shape slid down his throat and into his lungs where it broke into two smaller slugs.

“There,” she said softly, “now you’ll be able to breathe.” Onyx took Sebastian’s hand and pulled him beneath the crashing waves.

The pair shot through the water like an arrow, passing the kaleidoscope of neon pastel shades that made up Onyx’s world. Sebastian held on to the girl’s grasp tightly, amazed that he was breathing the ocean in and out rapidly without drowning.

By the time the duo reached the seafloor, Sebastian was in complete awe of his surroundings. A beautiful, fluorescent palace stared back at him. Its walls were made of thousands of tiny crystals, glimmering the way pearls do when set free from their oysters.

“Where… where are we?” he asked in wonder. Onyx stared back smiling with an enigmatic glimmer in her eye.

“Welcome to AQUATICA,” she said, “my beautiful home.”

As Sebastian walked upon the seafloor beside his new-found friend, he stared up in amazement at the glistening fortress. Its towers twisted and intertwined the way tree branches do in an overgrown forest.

The beauty was so astounding that it took Sebastian’s breath away. In fact, the very fact he could even breathe underwater was blowing his mind. It truly felt like he had died and was entering the gates of Heaven. Perhaps he was?

“So you see,” Onyx said suddenly as she turned to him, “all of this beauty will be destroyed unless you take the darkness away.” Before Sebastian had a chance to respond Onyx continued by saying:

“Come on. There’s one more thing I’ve got to show you.” With that, the beautiful aquan took the human’s hand and swam upwards with him, out of AQUATICA and into the inky abyss of the ocean.

Eventually the pair reached the surface of the sea once more to greet the night’s sky. The milky moon shone down on them radiating mystical beams of light that lit up the ocean’s skin like a glistening canopy.

“Shh,” Onyx said holding her finger towards Sebastian’s soft lips, “can you hear them?”

A faint humming in the distance rapidly got louder and louder until the sound of the whale’s song was undeniable.  Onyx helped Sebastian climb up onto a large rock the size of a small house that stuck out of the water. Neon algae covered the boulder like luminous slime wrapped around a gigantic stone.

“Here, look…” Onyx pointed towards half a dozen whales that were bobbing along the water, singing in unison. Their song an electronic whine that managed to mix natural beauty with auto-tuned perfection.

The pastels of the daytime were replaced by an illuminated blend of toxic greens and vivid cobalt as the enormous robotic mammals glided beside one another. As they swam, fountains of glitter shot from their blowholes like steam from geysers.

As Onyx took Sebastian’s hand in hers, he looked up to the stars and shut his eyes listening to the peaceful electronic murmurs. In this moment he felt what true happiness feels like.

Suddenly, the sky opened up once again to reveal an enormous levitating cave hole. This time though, The Waste was nowhere to be seen.

“I knew it,” Sebastian said, “they’re coming back for me.”

He pulled his hand away from Onyx’s and turned towards the vortex.

“ I need to go and put things right.” He reached forward to kiss Onyx softly on the lips. She threw her arms around him to not only prove that the feelings were mutual, but to prove he would not be going alone.

“I’m coming with you,” she said indisputably.

“No,” Sebastian replied pulling away, “it’s too dangerous for you there. I need to go back to make sure they don’t destroy your beautiful world. And to make sure they don’t destroy mine.”

He reached up towards the hole in the sky and began to lift himself up.

“Don’t worry; I’ll be back for you soon!”

As Sebastian pulled himself up into the beckoning entrance of the wormhole, Onyx grabbed hold of his foot and pulled herself out of the water. The pair were both sucked up into the hole before its mouth shut abruptly.

Then the night was still once more, with nothing but the sound of mechanical mantras echoing out from the circling whales.

The End?

Home

AQUATICA – Part Two

In Fiction, Short Story on April 10, 2013 at 6:47 pm

Sea Punk Oil

In the second part of my seapunk-inspired trilogy we’re transported to a dystopian version of our future

Somewhere in the not so distant future, resources became scarce and the human race precariously desperate.  The greens and browns of the earth were overtaken by steely greys and oily blacks as technology diminished nature bit by bit. Like a mechanical fist clenching a delicate flower in its metallic grasp until only cinders remained.

Most animals became extinct, becoming a rare delicacy that only the rich and powerful could afford to consume. The rest of society were led to feed on insects for protein instead, tearing into the shiny flesh of locusts or mosquitoes to obtain any possible nutrition.

The majority of the land was ruined by man. Mountains and forests were overtaken with sky cities constructed from carbon nanotubes that spiralled across the earth like bionic fungi. Even oxygen became scarce and rain toxic.

The only thing that man had tried to preserve through its careless ways was the oceans. Once it realised how irreversible the damage was that it had caused the land, it decided to find a new way of ridding the planet of its toxic pollution instead of pouring it into the sea.

“It brings us great pleasure to announce that we have finally found a solution to our global problem.”

The president spoke elatedly yet sternly through the holographic projections across the world. Dressed in the slate grey uniform that all of the government wore, his gaunt cheekbones were emphasised as he pursed his lips.

“Instead of releasing The Waste into our world, we will release it into another.” His concise yet mysterious words were met with a colossal round of applause from across the planet.

The Waste is what all of the toxic pollution was referred to as by the single government that the world now shared. It led citizens to believe it was mostly their waste: the long toxic trail that constant consumption leaves in its wake.

Of course, this had a huge role to play in what The Waste was made of. But it was mainly a result of the environment-destroying technologies that the government now used to power the world’s economic systems.

This thick, contaminated oil was to be poured into black holes that scientists had discovered how to open to another dimension…

***

Sebastian pulled on his stiff, dreary uniform and stepped out into the thin corridor that led to The Reactor. He couldn’t believe he was actually going to be part of history. As he walked he ran his hands through his sandy, tousled hair and took a deep breath. They were doing the right thing. Weren’t they?

Sebastian shook his head as to banish the doubts from his mind. Of course they were doing the right thing! The young man had felt a connection with the ocean since his youth and the thought of destroying it with The Waste broke his heart.

Of course, it was the idea of the unknown that unnerved him. These vacuums in the air, which supposedly led to nothingness, what if there actually was something on the other side? A thought that the government would obviously allow no one to even ponder, Sebastian couldn’t help but imagine a world that lay behind the gateway…

There was no time for this now. It was nearly 1800 hours and the first portal was to be opened. Sebastian stepped into the room of The Reactor where he was met by half a dozen other members of the government.

“It’s time,” the president’s shrill voice echoed through the room out of a loud speaker.

A group of scientists behind a digital panel began turning knobs and flicking switches until a small spiral of smoke began to float out of a large metallic funnel. Soon the swirling substance transcended into a gigantic whirlpool of greys that eventually led to a large black hole opening in the air like a hungry mouth.

Sebastian and the other government members stared on in wonder before erupting into applause.

“Enough, quiet!” the president spat through the brassy speaker.

“Release The Waste.”

A large cylinder was hoisted sideways from above, leading to a deafening flow of thick black tar being emptied into the mouth of the worm hole. Once again there were cheers, this time from the scientists as well as the government. As Sebastian clapped he felt his heart drop and a strange pang of guilt in his stomach.

Slowly he reached his head over the side of the railing to get a closer look at the revolutionary scene.  As he did, part of the railing gave way leading him to fall forwards head first into the black oil stream.

In an instant Sebastian was sent plummeting down through the worm hole right into The Waste. He had managed to take a deep breath as he fell, which he was holding on to for dear life. If he opened his mouth and breathed in, the deadly liquid would fill his lungs and lead them to burst open within the minute.

Before this thought had properly crossed his mind, Sebastian felt himself crash face first into water and hurtle beneath its surface. He used all of his strength to swim out of the grip of The Waste and into the clean and refreshing liquid.

Pulling himself upwards, Sebastian broke out of the ocean’s surface like lava shooting from a vicious volcano.

As he opened his eyes and prepared himself to take in his surroundings, a beautiful young woman also appeared from between the waves and stared directly at him with her piercing green eyes.

Long turquoise hair hung against her ivory skin, but it was her hypnotic eyes that gave it away. She wasn’t human.

Sebastian took a deep breath and swallowed, before asking slowly:

“What… are you?”

To be continued…

Home

The Highs & Lows of 2011

In Personal, Politics on December 4, 2011 at 4:36 pm

With the sun about to set on another year, our heads are once again filled with reflection and resolution. 2011 has indeed been a year of progress, both on a personal and global scale. However, there have of course been darker times that equally teach us significant lessons. It’s vital to take a minute to look back, to help us prepare for what’s to come.

I feel like I’ve really begun to find my feet and voice this year. After spending far too much time moving in a career path that just wasn’t me, I’ve managed to turn things around and finally get myself into work that inspires me. Surrounded by a delightful bunch of copy magicians and design gurus, I feel like my writing and creative ideas have come a long way even in five months. However, this is just the tip of the iceberg and next year looks to be even more exciting professionally.

Elsewhere, this website reached over 27,000 views and I finally released my debut publication. “Verses” was an idea I’d had for years but only decided to turn into a reality back at the start of the year in Paris, over a glass of red wine. By July, I independently released the poetry book through home-grown publishing company PRNTD, and have been fortunate enough to have people want to read my words.

On a global scale however, 2011 has been a colossal mix of both positive and negative headlines. On the 11th of March, a 9.1-magnitute earthquake and consequent tsunami hit the east of Japan, killing almost 16,000 people and leaving almost 4,000 missing. The world watched in horror as four nuclear power plants were affected by the natural disaster.

One thing this devastating event taught me is how fast news travels through all of the different modern day formats. I remember getting the phone call from my mother in New Zealand, where the news had already reached the southern hemisphere. A few hours later I was at work in a room full of busy news desks with journalists glued to online updates of the catastrophe. That evening I continued to follow the situation through a news stream on Twitter. I realised that day how constantly connected we now are to the rest of the world, and it will be interesting to see how this global conversation develops.

What the world next tuned in to watch was far more positive. On the 29th of April, an estimated two billion people witnessed the wedding of Prince William and Catherine Middleton at Westminster Abbey. Whether it was the nation’s sudden interest in the monarchy, or our reignited compassion for weddings, or simply the fashion world’s anticipation for who Middleton would be wearing, the event definitely got us talking. Perhaps what was most touching about the big day, was how it brought the entire country – and most of the world – together.

Bleaker events followed in the following months that felt very close to home for me. The first was when singer-songwriter Amy Winehouse was found dead in her Camden home on the 23rd of July. The news didn’t come as a huge shock to many, as it was assumed the troubled singer had died of an overdose. However it was later discovered that alcohol poisoning had been the cause of this tragic loss of young talent. No matter what the reason, I felt my town lose its irreplaceable mascot that day.

Only a couple of week’s later, utter chaos had erupted throughout London. Between the 6th and 10th of August, several districts and boroughs were hit by widespread rioting, looting and arson. The shocking events followed the shooting of Mark Duggan by police officers a couple of days earlier. Each day, the city would wake in fear to the post-apocalyptic scenes that were being televised of demolished shops and broken in houses. An unnerving sense that many young people have lost hope in society could be felt, undeniably supported by the grim state of the economy and lack of opportunities.

Elsewhere in the world, many people celebrated the death of two evil visionaries. The first was in May, when President Barak Obama announced the death of the extremely sought-after Al-Qaeda leader Osama bin Laden. The second was on the 20th of October when former Libyan leader Muammar Gadaffi was killed in Sirte, following rebels taking control of the nation’s capital and overthrowing the dictator. This led to Libya’s overdue liberation and the end of the war.

Finally, these prolific events were followed by the date chosen by the UN to represent when global population reached seven billion: the 31st of October. This day was a true milestone for our planet, providing a feeling of hope that humanity will continue to grow stronger, despite a year of twists and turns.

As we bid farewell to another year and get ready to welcome the next, I think it’s important we learn from each experience as we continue on our journey. Here’s to another year of challenge, lessons, loss, love and light. Here’s to becoming better human beings and to making it a better planet.

Happy 2012,

Chris Gill

Introducing my Verses

In Literature & Poetry, Personal on July 10, 2011 at 5:31 pm

Verses

One of the first things that drew me to poetry was how hard it is to actually define. To me, poetry is a way of seeing the world far beyond its literal form. It is a form of art, in the sense that it comments on the world and provokes emotions from within that help us to connect with one another. It is this connection – writer to reader, songwriter to listener, painter to viewer – that excites me the most. In a world where all connection is made through screens and wires, I think it is essential that literary arts are resurrected and kept alive.

We are all touched by poetry at one stage in our lives; whether it is as obvious as studying prose in our English Literature classes at school, or through the plays we see at the theatre, or even verses sung by our favourite singers; but it is only once we become aware of poetry’s metaphysical presence that we begin to notice it everywhere. The graffiti on a bus stop. The conversations we have with interesting strangers. The dreams we have that we try to unravel but simply do not understand. Poetry is everywhere. It is in the very air.

Putting together and producing this book felt like it had been a very long time coming for me. It is my deeply personal, ambiguous yet unabashedly open, fragile yet unafraid letter to the world. It is a collection of poetry, lyrics and stream-of-conscious psychobabble dispensed from the corners of my heart and soul over the past four years. It journeys back in time to my earliest memories and moves through the many different chapters of my life so far, right up to present day. It touches on my family life and significant moments in my youth. It expresses the feeling of being an outsider in the town I resided as a teenager. It paints a picture of my university life and all of the highs and lows that came with it. It then comes right up to date and expresses some of the lessons I have learnt through moving to London to chase my many dreams.

The book opens with a section and poem titled Catacombs. Sounding like a direct letter of confession to God, the poem sets the tone for the whole book with its promise to reveal all skeletons and ghosts, “Through every cataclysmic betrayal / that has torn my delicate world apart / I present myself to you fully / I give you the catacombs of my heart.” Creases uses the symbol of wrinkled clothing to represent defiance against the corporate machine that tries to straighten out the curves that make us interesting and unique. Here I figuratively quote a figure high upon his or her “corporate throne” who questions the marketability of my writing, a consistent paradox I have been faced with upon reaching the city as an adult. It became blindingly obvious to me when writing this poem how the parasitic world of marketing and advertising feeds from art and expression.

The second section is titled Escape to the Docks. This focuses on my life as a student and the lessons learnt through leaving home and shedding many skins. Undoubtedly the darkest section of the book, it opens with the heart-rending Trapdoor Moon that speaks of a friend’s suicide and the impact it had on the house he left behind. This was by far the hardest poem I have ever written for I could barely see my journal through the tears shed. I will never forget the experience of writing Trapdoor Moon; it was as if the words spiritually channelled through me. Era of Hades continues where Catacombs left off with itconfessional tone and religious references. The poem is about the moment when you catch a glimpse of your reflection in a hedonistic haze and cannot recognise yourself. I was compelled by the image of a wild party juxtaposed with the Apocalypse and wanted to experiment with a haunting, Sylvia Plath inspired feel.

The third section of the book, Home, is an exploration of my earliest memories and relationships with my family. In many ways this section feels like the ‘heart’ or ‘core’ of the book as it touches on some of my most personal and treasured memories. Kicking off with Rotary Washing Line, I set the scene in the back garden of my childhood home. Here I explore the innocence and naïvety of childhood; we escape reality by climbing into our heads and getting lost in our imagination. I contrasted this with the harshness of growing up and facing adult pressures and responsibilities, “If only I could / climb back into my mind / the way I would do as a child / block out all the billboards / banners / and skyscrapers / all the advertisements / halfs and quarters.”

The final section of the book, and perhaps the one I am most proud of, is titled Wires. I decided to finish Verses on a less personal note, choosing to turn outwards by writing about a mixture of global issues and concerns. The main theme of this section is how technology and social media is damaging human interaction; it also investigates the omnipresence of the government and how it is consistently  looking over and controlling us. Although this part of the book has the least amount of poems, it manages to keep its length with the exceptionally epic Wires.  Wires is an ambitious closure to the book that I wrote over a couple of weeks; I found myself continually revisiting the poem right up until just before going to print as it’s a compelling subject on which I could write indefinitely.

In exploring my past and present, I wanted to address issues that feel very much a part of the future for my whole generation. As we move forward into the digital age and spend most of our time staring into pixels, a beautiful vision came to me of everyone coming together and suddenly disconnecting from “the machine and the machines.”  I delve into exploration with the pressures of being “remade right” and “gaffertaped” by youth culture and the media, “Every hipster fashion magazine / wants me hysterical and hexagon / wants me polished dazed and confused / ready to fold up and reuse.” I felt an enormous sense of release being able to put the feelings I have about these subcultures into words. In writing this verse I began to realise how growing older has altered my perception of self-identity and how less willing I am to let mine be assembled by others.

Being my debut publication, it was important for me to take the design and production into just as much consideration as the poems themselves. This included avoiding the clutch of a big literary power-house and publishing the book independently. I photographed the landmarks I notice on my every day journey from Camden Road to Mornington Crescent. I then used these images to accompany and illustrate my words. From the ugly communal décor in my block of flats to the grand design of Greater London House – I felt that such contrasting settings would somehow represent the highs and lows expressed in the poems I have pieced together for this collection.

As I shape shift through each section of this book and journey from childhood to manhood, it is so gratifying to finally have a place for all of these weather-worn poems to exist beside one another. Whatever you take from my memoirs, I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed freeing them. These are my treasures. These are my scars. These are my verses.

Limited editions of Verses are available to pre-order now: http://chrisgillverses.info
Published by PRNTD © 2011 All rights reserved

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

%d bloggers like this: