So I guess it's not a necessary thing to fix it. Storywise (
hope you'll see why) it's better of her to saying that in a formal way.
Third & fourth strips are on their way - sketches are done, I'll have to get some sleep (
as it's 2:10 in the morning where I am) and then I'll play around with lineart, coloring and shading. And thinking about whipping out the proper dialogs.
Anyway, I felt a little tired because of the heat and the constant drawing, so I looked out of the window at the chestnut tree that is growing behind it. There's a story tied to it wich I turned into a short... hm. Poem? I could say that.
*
ahem!*
- Old Chestnut Tree -
by Pietja
One night I saw
a shape somehow quaint,
circling around
an old chestnut tree
but light of the moon
was too dim and faint
for my weary eyes
to notice and see
A figure of grief
that shape has assumed,
bent over phantoms
lying around,
moving in motion
of someone that's doomed,
It kneeled on the ground
to wich It was bound
Under that tree
many people have died,
long time before
it was four storeys high
Falling on dirt
they've nourished the soil,
seeds drank the blood
of innocents toil
Warmongers left
in hasty retreat,
running away from
upcoming heat
Flesh has dissolved
and memories fade,
all that has left
is this weeping shade
Circling around
this old chestnut tree,
in hope that someday
his soul could be free.
Please remember that english is not my first language, so there might be some errors & undesired sillines, but I've tried to avoid it at any cost.
So, yeah, basicly there's a chestnut tree that reaches my apartament floor and gives a pleasant shade in hot and sunny days like the one that has just passed. And even farther there's a playground for kids, since a middle and elementary school are also nearby. When I moved in I heard a story about that place from an old fellow that lives in the same flat as I, passed from his father who was in his thirties during World War II. He said that in these times there was no tree in this place (nor schools or playgrounds), only some kind of field where about 15 to 30-something civilians were shot dead by german nazi soldiers. And because after the war commies didn't allowed to mark this place as a field of mass massacre, some folk decided to plant chestnut there.
When USSR became past and Poland was free again, most of the folks that remembered that event were dead, so no one really cared about putting a plaque on that place. There were, probably, ideas about doing so, but I guess with no result.
And now, in the place of massacre there's a big chestnut tree, a playground and a two schools.
Quite eerie and poetic at the same time.