The Dungeon : Makeup Chronicles

My Eyes Are Papid:

Hello FRIDAY and WELCOME WEEKEND! This is a very special weekend for me. I received a call on yesterday for my first commercial mua gig... "SCREAMING LIKE A MAD WOMAN, I am in complete ahhhhhh. Thank you Jesus..  Wish me luck!
I have been ask several times about the The Dungeon Makeup Chronicles lol. The Dungeon Makeup Chronicles is mystical tale of a makeup artist dwelling in her own place of creativity. We are sometimes lost without any direction so we just paint our canvases and flow with imagination. Our inner concerns and thoughts are compiled in stories. This is my own personal Makeup Comic Book Tales with my thoughts generated for all to read and enjoy!   I hope you will enjoy The Dungeon Makeup Chronicles and will continue to read the posting updates every friday ( HOPEFULLY) lol.
-We continue to close out the week with our Beautiful Brides Helpful Tips on your Special Day.. Have a Safe and FUN WEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNNNNDDDDDDDDDD! silly tehehe=)

DUNGEON: MAKEUP CHRONICLES

REPORTING LIVE FROM THE DUNGEON 10/21/2010.
It’s cold and clammy; my heart is racing from paranoia. I see nothing but empty walls and scattered paints and colors. Before me visions, my sketch pad empty. Brushes in my hand, palms are sweating and my heart races. Questions and theories arise; “How are you going to do this”, “You’re never going to make it, they are better than you”, “You always drop the ball at the end”, “Go back to school and get security” and “Who are you”? A rush of cold chills swiftly sweeps my back. My heart is beating faster and faster. I quickly turn my head to see if someone was there “who’s there, in a screeching voice of horror, nothing returns, but my echo. TO BE CONT………

THE DUNGEON:
Dungeon: Makeup Chronicles 10/29/2010
“Hello”, I scream. Hello, Hello returns. “Who’s here in the Dungeon with me”? Curiosities arise, lantern in my hand, as I journey to the sounds of the echo. To my surprise the echoes lead me into another room, only this one is different. The light from my barley lit lantern creeps up the 20 ft wall of beautifully crafted images. Images of eyes and faces are all carefully created with expertise. No corners were left unturned, very distinctive. Each wall boldly presents something diverse in nature, but yet familiar. Twirling around in circles from wall to wall, anxiety attacks, and I yelled again “Who is here”? Faster and faster I turn becoming stricken with terror; my first reaction is to run. Carefully making sure to paint a visual of the images before me, I failed to turn around to watch where I am heading. POW, BANG, KA-BOOM I ran right into the wall. Here I lay slightly unconscious, delirious and unable to move. Broken pieces of my lantern shatter all around me and my light is gone. To Be Cont……
THE DUNGEON:
Dungeon: Makeup Chronicles 11/5/2010
Still unable to move, I lost my fight. The pain from my pounding head was unbearable. All I could think of to ease tension away was close my eyes and just pray “it” or this person in here with me would announce itself or just leave. I feel myself drifting away. Here I lay, wasting away, still drawing a blank on what my true purpose is. Hopelessly! My eyes slowly open, my vision blurred. Faint images begin to present themselves before me. What has just happened? I am not lying down anymore! I am sitting upright in the same position where I felt the first cold chill up my back. My empty sketch pad is now filled with all the images that were crafted beautifully on the 20ft. wall down the hall. My brushes are strategically placed in the brush holder. My lantern, that was shattered, is in one piece on my art table and the scattered paints cleared and I continue to search for answers. To Be Cont……..

THE DUNGEON
Dungeon: Makeup Chronicles 11/19/2010 CLASSIC EDITION
Engulfed in my own thoughts and premonitions here I sit. Staring anxiously at the wall searching for some rational explanation of what is happening to me, and how did I get here? Patiently I waited. The more and more I thought my hands begin to do pulsate with a quivering pain. My hands a slight color of GREEN and TINTED touches of ORANGE. Trying to console this agonizing pain my fingers move with excitement uncontrollably. This is not me, I can’t stop them. Both hands hard a work the more I try to stop them the harder the pain and more they push to create on my sketch pad. Loosing the fight I sit back and wait to see what the finished results will be….to be continued

The Dungeon
Dungeon: Makeup Chronicles 12/03/2010
Here they are hard at work. I can not see the finished results due to the allurement of the greenish-orange tint of my new found color hands. Here they are moving craftily, creatively, stroking the page so gently enough for my eyes to follow and mimic the sketches before me. I watch them. One brush, to one color, to mixtures of shades and position, to patterns and illusions, I watched HYPNOTISED as the hours pass, as one dream fades and another grows, time passes, pains erased, love comes and goes, as trends transform. I watch and watch and watch some more. TO BE CONT…

The Dungeon:
The Dungeon: Makeup Chronicles 12/10/10
I watch and I watch the finished product glisten before me. I could see the excitement through my hands and could feel the growth in my eyes to the immaculate work that is being performed. With an effortless motion my hands continue to work until the finished sketch was completed. Oh no, what is happening, everything has stopped! My hands “what are you doing”? The strong swiftness of my hands quickly led to my body and now to my feet. I am moving without any control of me, my inner spirit in now being control by something other than me. Moving away from the sketches I walk without control. My entire body, hands first, in a zombie like state, leads me towards an opening. Could it be! Could it be the door opening to freedom, destiny and purpose? To be continued…

The Dungeon
The Dungeon: Makeup Chronicles 12/31/2010 New Year’s Eve Edition
I can feel a cool breeze on my face. Finally freedom, freedom from the darkness to the light of possible answers to all the questions I have tried so desperately to seek. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh, I fall without any warning floating into another galaxy lost without any gravity. My cry for help fades out as I see what’s before me. Another place, another time and another kind, “what’s this”, I think. Landing feet first, right in the middle of moving lips and constant talk full of chatter and noise. My ears ring with speeches of dreams, jealousy, help and love all in bright form. No eyes, fully dressed lips and I hear a soft whisper “excuse me, your not from here”. I stood silently, scared to move from fear of what I might see. I could feel the soft warmness of cool mint on my neck. “Who are you?” I mustered up enough strength to ask. “I am from the Land of Chatter, I bring to you greetings. We have nothing to see, but only to speak.” I turned slowly to see who produced the calm, soothing sounds of peace. Just as beautiful as can be big, bold daring lips is all I see. The women carried her presence and sense of being through the very thing that speaks. Lips colored in a shiny coated paint it illuminates the streets. “You have been chosen”. Suddenly, the chatter stops all shaded colors of dreams, jealousy, help and love are upon me. Lips parted only waiting to share blessings, gossip, suggestions, opinions and curses. “Turn to me, never mind Land of Chatter, Speak those things of goodness and watch your dreams come to reality. On your way through never forget you are chosen, use these journeys to become a better you.” Without notice her lips fades and noise starts to build again. Feeling weak I run, run, run, run, run and I run pressing my way to the end. To be continued………

Dungeon:
The Dungeon: Makeup Chronicles 1-21-11
I run until I am exhausted. My head filled with thoughts from the Land of Chatter. “You are chosen”, re-plays constantly reminding me I still haven’t a clue what I am doing and why am I here. Without notice stiffness controls my legs and I can hear a faint chirping of birds, I can smell fresh cut grass and children at play. On no, here we go again! “Where am I”? Uniformed citizen’s wives and husbands, neighbors and children all uniquely modified to a horizontal, vertical and with great dimension of shapes formulated a cute suburban neighborhood. Tap, Tap and soft poke on my knee, “Hello, my name is Galaxy Venus Mars and you are standing on my string to my yo-yo”. “Oh excuse me. I am sorry. Can you tell me where am I? “ You’re in EARTHLINK SQUARE, the only place where you are created to portray and immolate others”. “I see. Thanks”. She turns and runs along with her friends all alike, neat precise and nicely colored coordinated all men, women and children. To be continued…..