“The Heirloom” – part 4


Here is part 4 of the story written by myself and Art at Pouring My Art Out  Part 4 was written by me. To read the story in its entirety, you can go to the page I created which has all the parts pieced together for you to make it simpler. THE HEIRLOOM


Siria wandered. She had no destination or path to follow. She wore her blue faience beaded dress and, through the netting, her nude body revealed the tattoo marks of a dancer, an enshrined prostitute. As the blessing of motherhood had not yet endowed her, she had come to feel as though she were a disappointment to Isis.

Siria wandered until she arrived at the square, because sometimes it was best to be alone where people gathered. Yet as a vessel for pleasure, it was difficult to avoid the attentions of men. Men were her trouble, but…

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The Birthday Tale of Gary Oldman’s Amazing Journey

Today is Gary Oldman’s birthday.  He turns 56 today.  Happy Birthday Lord Gary Oldman.

My name is Wall Grimm and I wrote a birthday tale for Gary Oldman, which is a congruent yet oxymoronically disconnected conundrum describing why I dubbed him a Lord, even though the tale addresses that in no way whatsoever.


Once upon a time there was a man named Gary who was kind of a punk, but he decided to take up the piano in order to clean himself up.  However, his own playing made him start to go deaf, so he left the concert hall to go to a magical school.  But he got in trouble and was sent to prison.  He eventually escaped from Alcatraz.  Make that Azkaban.  Disguising himself as a little person, he became involved in the world of street art and the avant garde, but David Bowie was too bizarre, even though later they would make a video together.  His next career choice was that of a playwright, but Alfred Molina was insane.  Molina had recently hunted down imposters on a cruise after his performance of Hamlet.  This impressed Gary, so he went back to Hogwarts to find David Tennant so he could get a time machine.  Since Gary was temporarily a police commissioner, he was able to use the police box, then he went back in time to hang out in Denmark with Pumpkin, who was yet to find his Honey Bunny.

Gary and Pumpkin were set to be hung so Gary moved on in search of another time machine.  The Player only had a boat, but he needed a bigger one, so he was able to set him up with a flying saucer which only brought him back to his punk days with Nancy.  Gary hadn’t realized at the time that Nancy was having an affair with Louis De Palma who happened to be the twin brother of the Terminator.  Gary wanted nothing to do with the Terminator even though he was also capable of time travel.  Instead he approached Reverend Jim who gave him a ride in his Delorean.  This was a better option than anything else McMurphy could provide, despite his offer to put Gary up in a hotel.  Jim took him once again to Hogwarts where Cedric Diggory turned him into a vampire.  He remained there briefly while becoming comrades with a werewolf who would in the near future get naked, hang out on an island of mutants with the Godfather, have sex with Leonardo DiCaprio, and meet Brad Pitt in Tibet.  This was before Brad met his wife who was in the psych ward with Mina Murray, who would eventual become Gary’s lover.  Mina was kind of a strange girl who hung out with ghosts and at one time was in love with a barber who was good at pet grooming, hedge trimming, and making meat pies.

Before leaving Hogwarts, he befriended Gilderoy Lockhart who knew this guy named Marcellus.  Marcellus was a cross dresser who hung out with a show girl.  The show girl was wooed by Van Helsing.  This was not the same Van Helsing Gary knew during his excellent adventure with Neo.  Yet Gary recognized Monica Bellucci from both worlds.  Gary was more familiar with Hannibal Lecter, who would eventually convince Gary to cut his face off.  Discouraged and disfigured, Gary assassinated John F. Kennedy and condemned Jesus Christ to crucifixion.

Gary was so remorseful, he got plastic surgery and dreadlocks.  He met Christian Slater who also knew Mina and Brad Pitt.  Involvement with them became tedious, so soon after, Gary decided to opt out of that existence in order to establish a more positive lifestyle.  But then he began stalking and trying to kill a 12 year old girl, who would one day be the mother of Princess Leia after a stint as a psychotic ballerina.  Gary regretted these actions, became small again and called himself Tim.  Fortunately an animated Jim Carey was able to save his life by not being such a greedy curmudgeon.

Frustrated with his failed attempts at soul searching, Gary, in the end, chose to live out the rest of his life as Elvis…

…until one day, he slipped through a veil and the world no longer had anything to do with him.  Along his journey to find his own realm, he momentarily found it when he ended up in a city with a robotic cop.  There, Gary approached a Bad Mother Fucker, who also knew Pumpkin.  BMF introduced Gary to Obi, and this is where he once again was diverted from his own path.  All thanks to Obi.  Obi was an effeminate rocker drug addict in a kilt on a motorcycle.  Obi took Gary to an Island where he met a girl with a pearl earring who liked zoo animals and Bill Murray, no relation to Mina.  On the Island, Gary also met a chameleon who abducted a car salesman’s wife, only to later be cremated by the Dude.  The most significant person he met was a hitchhiker who was part of the fellowship.  He introduced Gary to an illiterate taxi driver who was really good at driving in the opposite direction on a European freeway.  This ex-mafia don turned boxer brought him to Vietnam to meet a prisoner of war who later became a high end underground lord held captive by Eliot.  Eliot had a sister who’s real father went into a psychological chamber and turned into a monkey.  This caused nostalgia for Gary, remembering his days when he socialized with talking apes.  Gary’s memories transported him back through to his personal realm.

The monkey man referred to Gary as Doctor while they travelled around in space together for quite some time, getting lost on occasion.  Gary was glad to have returned to his own veil of existence, but he became weary of travel.  So he decided to return to his own time, quit drinking, and settle down as a family man.  And he lived happily every after.


Oh, and he likes bow ties.  Bow ties are cool.

The End

Happy Birthday Gary Oldman!



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Wall Grimm’s First Novel, age 4

My name is Wall Grimm and I have been a writer since a young age.  A master of suspense and intrigue, you could say.

This is my first novel which I wrote when I was 4 years old, under the guise of Valente Grimani:

The novel is called Sgoobedoo which is how I creatively chose to spell, Scooby Doo.

scooby doo

It appears that I was also a prodigy in the art community as well.  My mother never told me that, perhaps she was protecting my modesty.

scooby doo 2

Brilliant character development for such a young age.  I’m trying not to brag.

scooby doo 3

This is the intrigue.  Who is this friend?  How did they meet?  Is Shaggy jealous?

scooby doo 4

This is touching.  Readers learn the depth of Sgoobedoo and then he just says, “bye bye”?  And what is his friend’s name?  …Suspense.

scooby doo 5

We may never know the answers to these questions.

The End


*This is a real book that I made when I was 4 years old.  –Sage


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“The Journal of Wall Grimm” The Little Notebook Narratives

Here are some narratives from the notebook, with more sketchings.  There is a longer narrative that I will document another time.  This guy had to be a beatnik.  This stuff’s unbelievable.

This one says, “The boudoir shall be royal purple silk, thy chamber maids shall be worms.”

sketching with words

The following two have a narrative that seems to begin in the middle of something longer, but this is all that was there:

“and drunk at twenty and could never die.  I see winged shadows flitting by as I record these thoughts.  What a wild bit.  Perhaps, after all, I am contemplating a naval greater than my own.  Ah, I hope so.”

“fates and hands in tree stumps at rivers edge can’t find any elsewhere Water Gods, or something, my God what a killing routine, there is the difference between man and boy. Boy doesn’t realize there can be this shackling of spirit young man cannot possibly survive with the knowledge that there is no being greater than himself.  Without a God there is no master, without a master there is no purpose, without a purpose there is no man.  That goddamn brook just keeps running.”

sketching with narrative2

sketching with narrative1

“…as current turns paddle machine will paddle self upstream or at least remain stationary in current as long as bougart what for.”


(This notebook is authentic, not fabricated for fiction purposes).

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“The Journal of Wall Grimm” The Little Notebook

Sharly got several boxes of old stuff from an old house that was cleaned out.  The stuff dates from maybe 1920s or so on through the 1960s.  There’s this guy who was an artist, so there was all this artwork.  She gave me a couple letters of correspondence between him and a friend of his, dated from 1962.  I also got this little notebook, apparently from around the same time.


It had some addresses and stuff in it, that are probably no longer valid.  It also had some sketchings, lists, directions, math, and random notes like this:


There were a few narratives, I’ll document them later.  But here’s some sketchings.  I photographed them to paste in my journal because I didn’t want to tear them from the notebook, which I want to keep intact, but I suck as a photographer so some of the pics are blurry.  Some of these people look like they should be on “The Walking Dead.”  Anyway, this is some really cool stuff.










(This notebook is authentic, not fabricated for fiction purposes).


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“The Journal of Wall Grimm” The Tree of Grimm

My name is Wall Grimm and these are photos of a tree that I now call “The Tree of Grimm” which I encountered on Mount Monadnock.

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Wall Grimm’s Ankh

My name is Wall Grimm and I like Ankhs.  This is a real one from Ancient Egypt.

Photo by Wall Grimm.

Within the papyrus of Ani, Ankh rises from the Djed, the spine of Osiris, god of death and resurrection.  The Djed was a symbol that was supposed to ensure stability for the dead, but it was worn by the living too.  It might’ve been believed to enforce the stability once a person died, because a person dwelled with the gods until it was time for the spirit to be reborn through reincarnation.  The Ankh guaranteed a safe passage and stable resurrection.  Also, having the amulet of this backbone could have enabled a person to retain consciousness while passing from one realm of existence to the next, making the person able to remember past lives.  In the papyrus of Ani, where Ankh, life is described as emerging from the Djed column, this belief makes sense.  The arms of Ankh in this image could represent the horizon, as the Egyptians believed the horizon to be the place between Heaven and Earth.  This horizon supports the solar disk, which is the god Ra birthed and embarking on his journey resulting in death, the setting of the sun in the form of the god Tem.  Death and rebirth.

I think it would be so awesome to remember past lives.  But then again, how much choice would we have, what lives and what parts of our lives to remember?  It could be complicated and make a person crazy.  I go crazy enough just remembering some of my past, let alone a past life

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Wall Grimm’s New England Foliage Photo

“Leaves on the Water”

by Wall Grimm


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Grimm’s Thoughts on the Shut Down

October 18, 2013

Well it’s good that the government has decided to Open Up instead of Shut Down, or Shut Up and take action.  Anyway, I wasn’t affected by the shut down at all.  There was no impact apart from the lack of maintenance at local National Forests when the trails became unsafe after wind and rain.  So the trails became undetectable at times, making it easy to get lost.  Then if you get lost, there are no rangers to save you.  Also, there’s more of a possibility of a branch falling on your head, that would have otherwise been cut down.  And the trails get muddier because no one is coming by slapping boards down on them.  But that’s just a natural hike, so no big deal, no big impact.  Not like some of those federal workers who had no choice but to go to work since their work was imperative, and yet they wouldn’t get paid.  I guess they’d get retro pay, but what about the need for money at that time?

The worst effect I personally saw however was this:


Now that just sucks.

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