Extracts from The Magpie King.
Written by Matt Black on Saturday the 13th of February 2010
In his thirst for knowledge and imagination, the boy had found a way of using roots of trees to not only traverse different realities but to enter the dream worlds of sleeping humans...To maintain the magic of the tree he had to find suitable sustenance. A consistent supply of the True Energy of dreams was required. Internal imagination was to be rendered eternal. But young children kept theirs too close to steal and the Magpie King became merely a spectator of psyches in the cosmic night (the more responsive child would recall seeing him on the threshold of his dreams), fascinated and hungry for the exquisite power. He travelled throughout the webbing dream worlds to acquire enough of the True Energy for both him and The Tree. In time he found much that had been left unprotected, discarded and dying like flies; left for the taking. From those dreams he began to explore and steal an abundance of shiny imaginations. Soon his life had become richer than he'd ever imagined. Escape from the real word was sublime...
Text taken from letter as shown to me by James T
I am here. The place only before dreamt.
Waiting for him: The Magpie King,
No longer a shadow in my mind.
This tree I stand beneath, so old and so huge.
It grows in those ruins. How can that be?
I know this is his Tree.
Underneath the earth,
A great cavern,
Where the roots are alive.
They reach down; moving like a dream.
I shall no longer be a prisoner of this waking.
[Turn paper]
James, Remember the paths you take in your dreams and truth shall be revealed to you.
I can still see you watching me. Forever yours in dreams x
'In the periphery of my vision I saw a fleeting shadow...a blurry reflection of uncertainty outlined by the vibrancy of it's minimal colours. Just waiting'. Ian B. 21/07/02 .
James T. Taken from a diary Extract, Written 19/4/94. 3 days after incident.
Our shadows were long as we ran through tall grass towards the woodland. I had a sick feeling in my stomach, an anticipation of everything that waited for us in those trees. The closer we got the more I found it difficult to comprehend that this was reality and not dream. I began pinching my left hand and randomly shouting to the others to gauge reaction. Strangely neither of them responded, but I felt the pinch and more importantly the wind on my face. Despite all this I had the distinct feeling that the landscape around us was still in a peculiar state of creation, forming only as fast as my memory remembered it. It was then that my vision began to comprehend the half constructed shapes that had taken place of the trees. The memories of the dream had gone and were overthrown by the cold and immovable solidity of bricks and mortar. The grass was now turning to dust.
This case study can be read in its entirety in The Book of Apertures printed and published by Lazy Gramophone Press.