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MoFo art gallery


My life isn't written very well.
AGH! Don't get me wrong starrdarcy; love the maps and please keep posting them, but I have dial-up, and the download time is like 20 minutes! Can you attach them as thumbnails?
I have been formatted to fit this screen.

r66-The member who always asks WHY?

Lets put a smile on that block
Silly attachment things wont let me attach my photos. Is anyone else having this problem??
Pumpkins scream in the DEAD of night!

Helo again, i decided to show off some more of my maps, i'll try and post a legend a little later. Anyways here some before after pics...

DevenPort 1976:
The city center has officialy decayed, most of the shops and commercial disricts have disappeard from massive highway projects and people moving to the suburbs. This place is ugly...

DevonPort 1998:
Many years later the city center has saginficantly changed from being a place of failing businesses and seedy streets to safe and fun place to be. Years of rebuilding and puting the main highways underground have made the core proud again!

To another small town i'm working on. This city is the "old" style of city pattern and concepts. The houses are almost round, and the there is heavy use of the grid. I call it CrestView...

The town centre is right in the center of the picture. Or at the junction of EnVille street and Inverness Avenue.

Here's a portion of the town, look at all that sprawl to be! (the hallow roads are roads that are planned) Look carefully at the map ...

I don't have any real talent with photography or drawing or really anything visual, however I play drums. I'd like to post something that my cousin and I recorded at his house, but can't figure out how any suggestions?
Make it happen!

Lets put a smile on that block
Didnt know where to post this, but heres a little story...a short story in fact, a story about a mother. i wrote it for a piece of coursework for my degree. Let me know what you dudes think of it.


Don't Look...See.

“I do love him…Oh God I love him.”

She heard the heavy door open from behind her closed eyes. “This is it” she thought to herself as the swinging door made her heart race. “This is the moment my life will change, everything will be different” Without opening her eyes, she saw the door click shut again, and saw Dr Sutton’s handsome face staring at the back of her head, his fingers wrapping ever so slightly on the back of his clip board as he stuttered over what to say. She saw his white coat, resting on his broad shoulders. She saw his young, uncomfortable expression and searching eyes. Moyra opened her eyes and stared out of the murky window, through the rain at a veiled world. With an odd look of fascination on her face, she struggled to picture the doctor’s awkward glances as he tried to greet her in such unfortunate circumstances. An age seemed to pass before he spoke. ‘How long have we been here?’ she thought. ‘Can he hear me?’ she asked her pale warped reflection staring back at her through black puddles.
“Mrs Levinson?” Dr Sutton finally asked.
“Mrs Levinson, we have finished examining your son.” He waited for any sign of acknowledgment but all he received was silence.
“He is currently in surgery with some of our best doctors working for him. Would you like to take a seat with me for a moment?”
Moyra Levinson’s eye’s widened at the question, and the first glittered tears appeared on the brim of her lids.
“Mrs Levinson I realise it must have been awful to see your son in that condition, but we are – “
“Can he…Will he be able to see me?” she quickly interrupted.
“Um, I’m sorry, what was that?”
“Will he be able to see me? She repeated.
“Oh. He’s very ill, but, If he wakes up, then yes he will be able to see you, but at this time I’m afraid we don’t know what state he will be in until he is returned from surgery. Mrs Levinson…Your…your son Mrs Levinson, received multiple injuries – “
Moyra turned from the window and finally met the gaze of Dr Sutton’s face. She blushed as he must have noticed the heavy bags under her eyes.
“How many?” she quickly asked.
“How many?” The doctor repeated as he looked at her, trying to figure her out.
“How many injuries?”
“Oh. I’m afraid he has received numerous injuries, several serious and many secondary injuries. Your son is very ill.”
Moyra stared at the floor, focusing on the dark red stain just right of her foot.
“I want to know them all…Every scratch. Every bruise. Every mark. Tell me them all.”
“Mrs Levinson I’m not sure it’s best that – “
Moyra lifted her head and stared intently at Dr Sutton. She was attractive, with a symmetrical and pretty face. Her large dark eyes gave her a powerful look, but as Dr Sutton examined her in that instance, he found himself unsettled at how calm this woman seemed on the surface, and could not even begin to imagine what she would be feeling underneath.
“Don’t make me look again. Please…Please don’t make me look at him again like that.”
“Mrs Levinson. Please sit down.”
Moyra walked across the room, never taking her gaze from Dr Sutton’s face. She sat in the chair opposite him, staring across the round beige table that separated them both. Dr Sutton searched uncomfortably around the small grey room, trying to avoid Moyra’s dark invading eyes. He removed his glasses and placed them on the table in front of him, rubbing his face, trying to understand this woman who was making him so nervous. Moyra stared, exploring every aspect of the doctor, gauging each movement, each twitch, glance and sigh, trying to read and foresee what was happening under his concerned gaze. Dr Sutton fixed his gaze on Moyra just as he had been told to, and attempted to remain unperturbed as he spoke directly to the large black eyes.
“I’m afraid your son has received multiple injuries. Several of them are causing him a lot of pain, and I am sorry to say that if we can repair the damage, there is a possibility that the injuries he has received may impede his development over his life.”
Dr Sutton paused and turned towards the door behind him, grasping for reassurance and any eyes other than Mrs Levinson’s. Moyra stared, waiting for the worst of it.
“He…um…He has three broken ribs. Two on the left, one on the right. The latter has pierced his lung and he is having trouble breathing. Two of his vertebrae are shattered and he has broken his scapula…that’s the left shoulder blade. He has also broken his sternum, his left rotator cuff and his left arm. Nine of his fingers are broken and the entirety of his right hand. Both of his legs are broken and he has received two brakes in his left leg, one of which has shattered his knee cap. He has a broken jaw and his right cheekbone is shattered and he may need re-constructive surgery if he gets better. He also has two skull fractures, one of which is very serious and he is currently in surgery being operated on. It seems the fracture may have caused some swelling in his brain and there is a chance of permanent damage. He has a deep cut across his right cheek and severe bruising on most of his body.” Dr Sutton stopped. He reached for his glasses and raised his head to look at Moyra. He had stopped looking at her halfway through his report, but it seemed she never took those dark eyes off of him.
“Apart from the cut on his face, he has no other external injuries. Before we removed his clothes he was just a twelve-year old boy with a cut face but…but when we removed his shirt…” Dr Sutton stopped and looked up at Mrs Levinson exhausted of any more words.
“Mrs Levinson…When we removed his shirt, I don’t believe that there was any area of his body that didn’t seem to be bruised…”
“Why do you keep saying ‘if’?” Moyra said.
“I beg your pardon Mrs Levinson?”
“You keep saying ‘if’ he survives.”
Dr Sutton fidgeted in his chair and shuffled himself closer to Moyra.
“Mrs Levinson. Your son has been severely beaten. He has suffered an incredible amount of pain and is extremely ill. His body is broken and…I am very sorry to say but there is only a slim chance that he may survive this ordeal.”
Moyra’s gaze finally broke from the doctor’s face, and she stared unblinkingly at the floor once more. Dr Sutton slowly stood up and pushed a box of tissues towards her, hoping in some vain attempt that she may reach for them. Moyra’s eyes twitched towards the box and for a moment she may have considered them, but she slowly rose to her feet and backed towards the window, never taking her eyes off of them as though they were some deadly substance ready to destroy all of her.
“Mrs Levinson?” Dr Sutton said staring at her across the room.
“Mrs Levinson…Do you…Do you love your son?”
Moyra looked up sharply, snatched out of her trance and noticed the doctor’s confused face. She understood the question. She knew its meaning, but as she stared at this young intelligent man that she had been fooling for so many months she realised how long it had been since she had even asked herself this. It’s a question that no parent should ever need to ask themselves. It’s a written testament, etched in stone from the day your child is first placed in your arms. As Moyra Levinson began to understand this question, really understand it in all of its magnitude, she slowly began to sob.
Dr Sutton backed out of the room to meet his waiting associates; exhausted and confused, but also, deep down, underneath his white coat, stethoscope and PhD, he was embarrassed and hurt. He returned to the room moments later with two police officers following behind and as he entered, Moyra had resumed her position staring out of the misted window.
“Mrs Levinson?” Dr Sutton’s throat was dry and his words seemed to have lost all of their concern.
“Mrs Levinson, this is Officer Dunbar and Officer Halse. They will accompany you to the police station…” he stopped and moved towards the window until he was standing side by side with Moyra, regarding the fogged up world before her.
“Mrs Levinson, you may be aware of this, and you may not, but you are ill. We have been observing you on your last few visits to the hospital with your son, when you have brought him in for his stomach aches, chest pains and various other ailments. We believe you have an illness called Munchausen by proxy Syndrome…Do you understand? It’s when a woman, like yourself becomes so lonely, and so upset with her own life, that she grasps at the things around her and uses them to get what she wants, whether it be attention…or love. You have been using your son to get what you want. You have been making him ill and keeping him sick over the last year or so… haven’t you? I know this is hard for you to understand and I cannot begin to imagine what must have happened for you to bring your son to us like this, but like you Mrs Levinson, he is very very ill and he needs help.”
Dr Sutton looked over towards Moyra. She had stopped crying and the mandatory gaze had resumed its position on her face, careless and defeated.
“Mrs Levinson, these officers will now escort you to the proper facility where you can get the help you need, whilst we give all the help we can to your son.”
The two officers slowly took Moyra Levinson by the arm and began to lead her out of the room, towards a sea of silent staring faces. Moyra’s gaze lifted from the window and moved towards the officer on her left, and as she stared with her large dark eyes, Officer Halse heard her say some words that she seemed to choke on as they escaped her lips;
“Oh God I loved him…”

Randomly visiting for now
Originally Posted by blibblobblib
Didnt know where to post this, but heres a little story...a short story in fact, a story about a mother. i wrote it for a piece of coursework for my degree. Let me know what you dudes think of it.
well this dude liked it . The complexity of the mother's character was what sucked me in to the story; why wasn't she crying? Was she in love with the doctor? Did she love her son at all?

Good writing always makes the reader think, compelling stuff blibblobblib well done

Here's some photos I took in my neighborhood, not particularily artistic but nice to look at . The last one is just my dog, isn't he a cutie.
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Nice pictures SpoOky, that looks like my little westie oliver in the window. he is sick and at the vets.
Health is the greatest gift, contentment the greatest wealth, faithfulness the best relationship.

Randomly visiting for now
thx Nebbs, go the Westie they're such loveable pets; mine's called Pippin. I'm sorry to hear your Oliver is sick, hope he gets better

Originally Posted by SpoOkY
I'm sorry to hear your Oliver is sick, hope he gets better
Thanks, Oliver is still at the vets, he is having a consult from a specialist so we will see what happens.

Lets put a smile on that block
Originally Posted by SpoOkY
well this dude liked it . The complexity of the mother's character was what sucked me in to the story; why wasn't she crying? Was she in love with the doctor? Did she love her son at all?

Good writing always makes the reader think, compelling stuff blibblobblib well done
Thanx Spookyman. Its a little juvenile but i enjoyed researching and writing it. The answer to your questions are in the end of the story...although maybe a bit ambiguosly.

Anyone else gonna read it??

Originally Posted by blibblobblib
Anyone else gonna read it??

And I give it
Reading all those injuries was painful though. In a good way (if that makes any sense).

My life isn't written very well.
WOW! Bilbby! Very good story. I did not see that ending coming! Cool!

That story was off da' chain like a motorcycle gang. Ya' heard me? What degree was this story needed for?
New jumble is two words: balesdaewrd
Previous jumble goes to, Mrs. Darcy! (gdknmoifoaneevh - Kingdom of Heaven)
The individual words are jumbled then the spaces are removed. PM the answer to me. First one with the answer wins.

Lets put a smile on that block
Thanx R66 and Project, oh you guys, shhsh
Originally Posted by PimpDaShizzle V2.0
That story was off da' chain like a motorcycle gang. Ya' heard me? What degree was this story needed for?
Thanx Pimpboy, its for my English Degree. over my course ive had to do a lot of creative writing, its pretty interesting, ive got quite a few stories ive had to come up with on my computer.

Lets put a smile on that block
Originally Posted by PimpDaShizzle V2.0
Sounds funky-fresh. What are you going to do with that degree?
Well, the plan at the moment is....

Finish my degree in early May, then stick around and have fun with my uni mates for a month or two, then move home again and return to work at Borders whilst building up a writing portfolio in my spare time, and hopefully gaining some work experience at Empire Magazine. Then hopefully by Jan or feb i would have saved enough money to go travelling all over the world to some wondeful places like Iceland, San Fransisco, Tokyo, Hong Kong, New Zealand, Oz, Vietnam etc for about 6 months. Then once i come abck ill start applying to magazines to work at, such as Empire and Total Film. Thats my ideal plan anyway.

Plan B is - Doing my masters for another year in Film Studies then follwing plan A afterwards.

If any of this happens i will be over joyed....if not....i shall cry and cry.

Again, that sounds funky-fresh. Crying doesn't do nothin' but make you look like a panzy - that's the way I look at it and chicks dig me. It's needed for my career choice. Anyways, writing is da' bomb. Maybe one day you'll be huge and people will reffer to your posts as the standard of forum literature. Awesome. Booya.

And this is my BOOMstick!
My masterpieces from Grade 9 fantasy art class:

"All I have in this world is my balls and my word, and I don't break them for no one."