We're approaching the second month of Tristus Scriptor's Shadowlights. It's been an exciting start, and having this playground for my journalistic creativity has been nothing short of pure catharsis.
As an active administrator on the grossly popular social network of Facebook, things have been both invigorating, disappointing, fruitful, and angering. In order to reach people, one must throw down things that appeal to the short attention-span of the casual browser of such platforms. This doesn't leave much hope for in-depth musing. The general public, even the like-minded individuals that visit pages while killing the "IRL" world's impact, merely want to be thrown quick little suggestions as to what to indulge in. Thusly, indulging is usually reserved in the subconscious for external sites and links. It's just some sort of implanted social networking mindset to surf around on Facebook with short bursts of variety. Things like interviews, articles, and reviews get passed up like roadkill.
And so, that's where a writer needs this/her own website for actual expressive output. The visitor of a site dedicated to writing and analysis is most likely willing to actually READ. Lord knows I've got lots and lots to say. I'm not luring anyone to Tristus Scriptor's Shadowlights with nudie pics and kitty cats.
Don't get me wrong, you are likely to see these things on this website. I enjoy looking at tits and ass and whiskers as much as the next metalhead. It's just that the subject-matter indefinitely comes first, with pleasureful visuals as icing on a cake with a hidden vitamin-blend for the soul.
Please allow yourselves to be as informed as I can help you be. I'm not the worlds most blessed guru on all things creative - yet (on the other hand) I don't dedicate my life to such things to be a lackluster informer of bullshit. Furthermore, I'd love some feedback...and for those that indulge here to spread knowledge that I might not have. This is my mental museum; yes. But without outside influence, I wouldn't have much to offer.
Join me as I continue down this wiggly road of life's artistic lusts.
As an active administrator on the grossly popular social network of Facebook, things have been both invigorating, disappointing, fruitful, and angering. In order to reach people, one must throw down things that appeal to the short attention-span of the casual browser of such platforms. This doesn't leave much hope for in-depth musing. The general public, even the like-minded individuals that visit pages while killing the "IRL" world's impact, merely want to be thrown quick little suggestions as to what to indulge in. Thusly, indulging is usually reserved in the subconscious for external sites and links. It's just some sort of implanted social networking mindset to surf around on Facebook with short bursts of variety. Things like interviews, articles, and reviews get passed up like roadkill.
And so, that's where a writer needs this/her own website for actual expressive output. The visitor of a site dedicated to writing and analysis is most likely willing to actually READ. Lord knows I've got lots and lots to say. I'm not luring anyone to Tristus Scriptor's Shadowlights with nudie pics and kitty cats.
Don't get me wrong, you are likely to see these things on this website. I enjoy looking at tits and ass and whiskers as much as the next metalhead. It's just that the subject-matter indefinitely comes first, with pleasureful visuals as icing on a cake with a hidden vitamin-blend for the soul.
Please allow yourselves to be as informed as I can help you be. I'm not the worlds most blessed guru on all things creative - yet (on the other hand) I don't dedicate my life to such things to be a lackluster informer of bullshit. Furthermore, I'd love some feedback...and for those that indulge here to spread knowledge that I might not have. This is my mental museum; yes. But without outside influence, I wouldn't have much to offer.
Join me as I continue down this wiggly road of life's artistic lusts.
(Spoilsbury Toast Boy is the creation of the Euro-genius of delightful and macabre abandon - Mr. David Firth.)