A Novel based on the characters from A Rogue in Londinium

www.thegreatwhitestorm.com

A Continuation of the story of Richard Rhys and Victoria Thornton from A Rogue in Londinium.
Erotica, Art, History, Alchemy, qabalistic tree of life, Time Travel, Transmigration, ghosts, soul mates and true love.

 The Great White Storm that hit New York in 1888 was the worst blizzard in US history. Richard Rhys newly married to Victoria Thornton leaves for an appointment with Edwin Booth on a spring morning in March. His wife has taken the landau to their Manor house in the Flatlands of Brooklyn. By the afternoon New York City is crippled by the white hurricane. As Richard cloaks himself in a bison hide and walks across the Brooklyn Bridge to find his wife he is met with the mortality of his past and future incarnations appearing as a female painter, Ashley in 2011 and also as a half Lakota - half Tibetan Medicine woman, Ansa, at the time of the Dutch settlements of New Amsterdam in 1664. Using a saffron thread from Ansa’s ancient Tibetan robe, Richard is met with incarnations of his wife and lover as Chief Tamanend and a modern Writer for an Arts Magazine, Chelsea. Traveling to London to unlock the secrets of the past, Ashley and Chelsea come face to face with alchemy and prominent mystical figures. Luminaries such as William Penn, Dr. Samuel Pepys, Sitting Bull, Dr. John Dee, Stanford White, Buffalo Bill Cody, Nichola Tesla, Madam Blavatsky, Mary Astor, Jacob Riis, Edwin Booth, Abraham Lincoln, Nichola Tesla, John Wilkes Booth, Jack the Ripper, Louisa May Alcott, Charlie Chaplin and Queen Elizabeth the II. Discovering 13 large sea paintings by Rhys locked away at the Tate Museum, they find that if studied in a certain sequence the paintings bring about profound transformations and enlightenment. A story of how a soul can continue to change the world life after life. 

Available on Kindle here. 
http://www.amazon.com/The-Great-White-Storm-ebook/dp/B00A7DLMOI/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1352986728&sr=1-2&keywords=The+Great+White+Storm

Paperback available 12.12.12

The Color of Money

Over the few days off from the Londinium film I promised to take Justin to Coney Island.  Our last hurrah before school starts.  It was a perfectly pleasant day until we were walking out of the park and the kid decided he wanted to ride the Cyclone.  The Cyclone is the most hair-raising ride I have ever been on in my life. The Cyclone rollercoaster is one of the last and oldest wooden coasters in the world, built in 1927 with such stomach turning spins that it is the high water mark for almost every other coaster built. The probability of being ejected from the ride by the thin steel bar is quite high and promotes the forming of phobias far and wide. I try to tell Justin he is not old enough to ride the killing machine.  As a matter of fact I would not let him ride it until he turns 21 for fear of maiming and paralysis. He plops himself down right there on the pavement and proceeds to have an old-fashioned tantrum.  I threaten him by saying, “If you don’t stop with the hissy fit then there will be no cartoons for a looooong time.”  Now, I am not and have never been a proponent of spanking but the kid pushed enough buttons on my anger elevator that I was one red curly hair from corporal punishment.  Even in drunken belligerence I have enough sense to resist fisticuffs.  Exhausted and deeply pissed-off I requested the wife to tend to the offspring for the rest of the night while I tied one on.  I knew the next day would be light.  The schedule was filled with pick-up shots and small scenes with Whit in the artist’s studio.  Most of the scenes are of Richard in the process of painting.  Montage sequences with jib and dolly shots beautifully orchestrated as the paintings of Victoria come to life.  Since the scenes were incredibly technical I felt like I could show up towards the end of the day.  Thom said that in between set-ups the director has to step in and don her painter’s hat to work the painting(s) a bit more to show progress.  There were several canvases in various states of completion to speed up the process but it sounded a little tedious to me without an official duty so I opted for rest.

During Richard’s time the Salon, that is the official art exhibition of the Academie des Beaux-Arts in Paris, was the place to be as an artist of any worth.  Today the new painters are filmmakers and the new Salon is Cannes and Sundance, Toronto and Berlin.  I ask Whit what he thinks about it all.

“I’m an actor playing a painter and so my take on it is that films can be like moving paintings.  I mean, I watch Terence Malick’s work and it is definitely the ilk of the great masters of art.  Days of Heaven is a masterpiece of filmmaking.” He says.

“I agree.  It’s one of my favorite films of all time.” I reply. “What do you think of the films that go unnoticed that might be just as good as Days of Heaven but are not seen because the juries or curators can’t or won’t program them?” I ask.

“It’s a real shame.  People need to see cinema as art.  And art as cinema.  I don’t have a lot of experience with film festivals and I don’t want to grossly generalize because I believe there are still truly indie fests out there wanting to feed their audiences with exceptional material.” He replies.

“But…” I say.

“But we all know that Independent films are in competition with studio films.  What better way to eliminate your competition than buying up all the boutique distributors and making them adhere to Disney or Paramount rules and tastes.” He says.  “It becomes generic especially in hard times.  No one wants to take a risk on something different and it shows with the movies the studios are churning out now.”

“That only partially answers my question.” I say.  He thinks for a minute.

“When Sundance started it was exciting and it made an unknown filmmaker’s career---“

“Steven Soderbergh, Sex, Lies and Videotape!” I excitedly interject.

“Sure. It made unknown actors bankable talent.” Whit continues.

“Andy McDowell and James Spader!” I yell. 

“It was great and Redford had the vision and passion to give artists a chance.” He says. 

“Then something went really wrong---” I say.

“Yeah! I mean Sundance became a corporation---it became the very thing it was reacting against.  The studios used the festival to introduce their art films that weren’t really art because they were financed by the same machine that backs the studios and the publicists and the ad agencies and the big name talent.” Whit says. “I do want to clarify that just because big money is behind a project does not mean it is not art.  It can certainly be artistic and visionary.  I mean, I enjoy Tim Burton’s stuff.  I just feel that where there is big money there are too many cooks, i.e. producers interfering with the health of an artistic creation…and the director’s control.” Whit adds.  Well stated and I am duly impressed.  The guy can think and verbalize.

“Do you think Sundance should just come out and be a market like Berlin’s (EFM) and MIPCOM at Cannes?” I ask.

“I think that is exactly what it is and because it started as a festival with vision it has lost its luster because it has become more about buying and selling.  Don’t call a dog a cat or a goat a horse, ya know?”

“I agree.  I think Sundance is really trying to retrace its steps and recover its original mission, though.” I say.

“Yeah?  I hope you’re right.  What came out of Park City this year that was not studio backed---and I mean international studios as well.  Channel4 and the BBC and Canal+ are studios so they don’t count.” He says. 

“The Runaways.” I answer meekly and I know I am dead wrong.

“They produced Brokeback Mountain and Into the Wild.  Both Oscar contenders so they don’t count.” He says.  How does he know all this shit AND memorize lines.

“I think that Redford and his advisors and backers are really honing in on issues that they feel deeply about.  I mean, they’re producing shows about going green and how people like you and I can be custodians of the earth rather than consumers.  I think he has a program specifically to introduce native peoples and their talents to a larger audience and to enhance their visibility and opportunity.” Whit says.

“Yes, I’ve seen the show.” I respond.

“It takes money to change the habits of a generation or even generations living in a throw-away world.  We can’t do that anymore.  We have to have a conscience about what we use, what we eat, what we grow, what we wear, where and how we live and to live by what we honestly need and not feed the monster of what we ‘want’.  Instant gratification is a luxury that we cannot afford any longer.” So sayeth the reverend Whit.

“I think we got off point.” I say.

“Not really.  We’re all connected.” He says. Okay…I hear that phrased tossed around a lot these days.  Philosophically I get it.

“If you think about it storytelling is as old as humanity.  What we really want as an audience---what I want as an actor is to be taken out of myself.  The trick is how to tell a good story sans the bells and whistles.  Capitalism is great.  Don’t get me wrong.  It is the great motivating factor for invention and innovation.  Less is more.  Subtlety.  We have to pare down to the basics to get to the heart of what we’re trying to say.  Cinema and by that I mean computers, iphones, ipads, you tube, digital theatres and digital streaming are the campfire that illuminates the storytellers who enthrall an audience with ideas and emotions.” He says succinctly.

I’ll drink to that!