A look at the paranormal from a professional amateur.
Vicksburg
When I was a child I lived in Vicksburg, Mississippi. My grandmother lived in a large, old house on the corner of Clay St. On the opposite corner there was another old house. This one was older, one story with a basement, and surrounded by an iron fence. This house had belonged to my Great Aunt Letitia. She’d died sometime in the late 1960’s and my step-grandfather being who he was refused to rent it or sell it. It sat there locked with everything left exactly as it had been the day Letitia died. Occasionally he and my mother would go in to make sure everything was in order and that no one had broken in. It never had been. It was a different time. The electricity, gas, and water had been turned off for decades. Growing up in the 80’s I knew all this.
An Old House
On rare occasions when my mother and grandmother were getting along I’d spend the night in her house. I’d stay in the big bedroom at the front of the house, just off the main hallway, on the side away from Clay Street. It had high ceilings and a feel of age I can only describe as oppressive. I’d lay there staring up at a hundred year old chandelier and try to sleep as the the traffic light outside shone red and green through the window all night. It wasn’t conducive to rest. At some point in the night I’d wake up and wander the house while everyone slept. The furniture was all vintage. I don’t think there was anything newer than the 1960’s in that house. The TV had a remote that made a massive “CLONK!” when you pressed a button so TV was out of the question. I’d just look at things. After a while I’d look out the window facing Clay St. and stare at the massive house across from me.
Visions of the Past
I brought up the situation in the house earlier because it comes up now. As I said, I knew the history of the house. I knew who’d lived there. I knew there were no utilities and the doors were locked and that no one ever went in there. I’d look out that window and see a lamp turn on in the bedroom window and watch as the silhouette of Great Aunt Letitia would go about her nightly routine before bed, then she’d turn out the light. I’d go back and lay down and pray to God I could fall asleep for the remainder of the night. It still stands there today and houses a law firm. I sometimes wonder what goes on there in the wee hours of the morning and if the lawyers ever find things out of place. . .
Continuing our AI journey from last time exploring Little Red Riding Hood herself as the Big Bad Wolf… All of these are based upon the AI generated art and prompts using NightCafe and then created as posters in Canva.
How very… Phantom of the Opera predatory… this is definitely not what I had in mind. Maybe something more cutesy?
Ugh. Maybe not.
Wow, that seems like such a cop out, cropping off the head so you don’t have to depict it. And I don’t want to lose the Little Red Riding Hood reference completely.
So no surprise there, I knew that was too many references to work.
And as promised in Big Bad Poetry, we shall embark on our next AI journey, this time looking at Little Red Riding Hood. I had wanted to depict her as the Big Bad Wolf one and the same, although maybe not so big nor bad. But it just wasn’t happening quite as planned. All of these are based upon the AI generated art and prompts using NightCafe and then created as posters in Canva.
So I actually like this even better than my original vision, it is playful and even a bit serene (especially given the Sinister style). The wolf is just being a wolf. It’s quite lovely, really. But it wasn’t what I had in mind, so I revisited the idea later to see if I could get that result…
Over the river and through the wood flashed the fleet-footed Red Riding Hood on her way to her âgrandmotherâsâ house.
When running past, who should she see but just one of the little pigs three cowering like but a tiny mouse.
âBut my dear piggy, what do you fear?â Red Riding Hood asked as she slunk near, teeth hidden under a sheepish smile.
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The nervous small pig looked up in fright and decided that Red was alright, missing the subtle clues by a mile.
âThe Big Bad Wolf, that horrible beast upon the other wee pigs did feast!â the last little pig said with a squeal.
Red Riding Hood laughed with a great growl and threw back her heavy long-robed cowl, in a vast terrifying reveal.
For she was really the wolf Big Bad hidden beneath the cape that he had stolen from Red Riding Hood at point.
âAnd now Iâve caught you too my pretty and surely tâwouldnât be a pity if I gobbled you up in this joint.â
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Tâwas then the wee pig leapt to his feet And cried, âBig Bad Wolf, I shall defeat, for I am no ordinary swine!â
The little pig also wore sheepâs clothes spun in spells every woodland witch knows; Old Granny herself was quite divine.
âNow give me back my granddaughterâs cape, before I grab you by your ruffed nape and send you pig-squealing down the roadâŠâ
The wolf dropped the cape and ran, that cur, but Granny was swifter and hexed his fur and the wolf she turned into a toad.
Thus the moral of this story goes, when in the woods, no one really knows what sheepish sheepâs clothing is a ruse that big bad wolves and old witches use.
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So this is actually an intro to my next AI art journey with NightCafe which developed from me not getting the results I wanted (Little Red Riding Hood herself as a wolf). Here’s a preview with Eric’s versions as he is much more literal in his prompting than I am, but where’s the fun in that? đ
Prompts (from left to right) in Dark Fantasy style, executed Aug. 1, 2023:
Bipedal wolf in Red Riding Hood’s cloak
Bipedal wolf in Red Riding Hood’s cloak close up portrait
Bipedal wolf in red cloak close up portrait
Portrait of myself with dark makeup and crow skull headdress, backlit by the sun.
David Davis
February 11, 2020 at 5:39 am
This is a lot of fun, I have had my own little brushes with the uncanny that were a lot like this.
Ted Neatherwood
February 15, 2020 at 11:52 pm
It seeks out the receptive. Unless they’re desperate.