Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Blue Tale

Once upon a time, there was a wonderfully small village filled with the tiniest, most delightful beings on all the Earth. These Smurfs were just three apples tall, had blue skin, and did their very best to care for one another.



The Smurfs were active and enthusiastic. They typically lived in mushrooms, and took pleasure in the little things.



Sadly, one day, a terrible smurftastophy destroyed the Smurfs' entire community, as devastating swirling blades ripped their houses out at their roots.



The Smurfs were forced to make due in their surroundings, hunting temporary shelter, and fearful of malevolent humans who would pursue them in their most desperate times.



Gutters, dips, plumbing-- the Smurfs sought whatever shelter they could find. Refugees, they were in constant fear of discovery and consumption.



The Smurfs immediately began to work toward a solution to their problems, calculating their needs and abilities against their circumstances.



The mystic of the Smurfs quested after the cause of their problems, and learned they were to be permanently displaced by an air-conditioned shopping center.



Papa Smurf, the wizened leader and chief scientist of the the community, developed a formula to produce new mushroom homes. However, the development was too slow, too sparse, and too fragile for the Smurfs' needs. Also, chemicals had rendered the soil too toxic for farming.



Despite their inherent optimism, some Smurfs were terribly frustrated by their living conditions, and lashed out at their surroundings.



Papa Smurf called a town meeting, announcing his intention to lead his people to a better, more fertile land.



The Smurfs began to gather their most precious belongs; just enough to carry on their backs; for the lengthy journey ahead.



Wearing her garb of mourning, Smurfette baked rations for the sojourning Smurfs in her underground cave.



Lonely, heart-wrenching music could be heard as the village and life the Smurfs once knew was laid to rest.



All together now, the Smurfodus began.



Scouts were sent ahead to insure as best as possible the Smurfs' safety and advise on their direction.



More often than not, they found concrete, glass, steel-- nothing that could sustain their agrarian lifestyle.



With great trepidation, the Smurfs ventured further from the world they knew, and into the unknown wilderness.



Like a wee mazarine Valkyrie, Smurfette was more than equal to the task of defending her loved ones.



Again and again, the Smurfs found themselves in wholly alien landscapes, fending off predators in a path fraught with peril.



Recognizing they were now in a world not their own, the Smurfs did there best to adapt and make their way. Diminutive but industrious, they tried to integrate into the manners of man.



Their good nature was too often abused, as they struggled to find two pennies to rub together.



This urban jungle was a hard place, but the Smurfs maintained their composure, their dignity, and made do with what was provided to them.



A dark, foreboding portal to an entirely unknown sphere was uncovered.



Out the other side, the Smurfs trekked down a steep decline.



Only to find themselves staring over the edge of a treacherous cliff.



Some of the Smurfs raged against their poor luck, but all eventually collected themselves and continued.



Eagle eyes spied a watering hole and small farm ahead.



The Smurfs were jubilant about access to a clean pond and prospects for their future.



The Smurfs were delighted in their new garden, celebrating with much jubilation, and offering up their few possessions to share with their neighbors.



Whether through chores, treats, or merely their gentle company, the Smurfs did whatever they could to ease any concerns about their presence and earn their keep.


However, all was not well in the garden, as their good natures were met by pesticides and traps intended to shuffle them off this mortal coil.


Though they meant no one any harm, and in fact tried to improve every life they touched, the Smurfs were swept out of the garden and off into renewed exile.


Is there no place the Smurfs will ever call home? Must they forever wander this world, unwanted and unloved. Do you know someone who would open their hearts and hearths to these delightful creatures? Won't you...?

2 comments:

wiec? said...

that was riviting! some of those photos were really awesome. the last one and the waterhole one and the one where the smurf is looking at the wires were my favorite.

also my sister had the Thanksgiving Smurfette. it's on the table every turkey day.

Frank Lee Delano said...

Glad you dug it wiec! I did that up on the sly as a present for my girlfriend. I bought a lot of vintage Smurfs off eBay, and took all but two of the pictures using found locations and objects. I did the last one within minutes of my girl getting home, using her globe, just a few hours before her receiving the whole package. Her faves are the bather and water hole. I like the run through the jungle stream.

...nurghophiles...

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