Art Assignment #12 Imprint

An unfinished story about yet another castle

One loved fairy tales, and the other believed in them. One was a romantic and the others heart was bare. These two decided to grasp the last days of the 20th century. They were to explore to old remote places of Europe. They were determined to discover a ruined castle. (One that was not guarded.) There they'd have an adventure. Their expectations were realistic. Just roaming from place to place would be an adventure in and of itself. If no castle was found it would not have spoiled their trip. Finding a castle was merely a fanciful wish, but you what they say about wishes...




The above was the start of a thriller graphic novel I never finished.

Make a Rug The 10th Art Assignment

Ohborn Castle Finale

Eric ran among the broken rocks of Ohborn. He could discern small traces of color swiftly evaporating through exposure to the sun's light. There was no way he could be fast enough to capture it, or to even see it clearly. His mind raced. He realized that nearly seventy people were in OhBorn when it collapsed. Perhaps one of them lived. Perhaps one did not perish underneath the weight. He frantically began shifting through what rocks he could move.

“You are wasting your time Eric. They are all dead. Let the professionals remove them!” Cried Claude.

“I have to know! There was residue on the rocks. There must have been more to the image! I need to know!”

“You are mad Eric! Even if their was such an image it is gone now.”

“I have to know. I have to know!”

A small portion of a representative's robes could be seen beneath a movable bit of rubble. “Could it be?” Eric thought, and hoped. It was Bernard. Out of all the people Eric could have found,but fate led him to Bernard. His body did not appear to be mangled, but upon closer inspection one could tell that he was crushed. Eric fumbled over him. Painfully willing to see any traces of life.

“Bernard, tell me. Tell me what you saw! Bernard! You need to live and put an end to all of this! People need to know the truth! Bernard!”

“Shouting at a dead man is in bad taste, Eric!”

A small glimmer appeared in Bernard's eyes.

“Bernard. What can you tell me?”

Bernard's lips parted. Eric drew his head to them, in order to hear.

“You're mm-my friend.”

The pit of Eric's heart burst. No news of the wall or its image. Just faint words of friendship.

Ohborn Castle Pt. Ten

The documentary continued on as planned. Eric did not speak to Bernard again until the final day of shooting. They met face to face, but not eye to eye, in the round garden in front of Ohborn.
"So this is it then." Mumbled Eric.
"Indeed it is." Said Bernard with his eyes now fixed on Eric.
Eric's face drew inward as though Bernard's eyes placed pressure on his face.
"The interior footage has been reviewed. They actually managed to record some stuff, but-"
Bernard interjected. "It was too dark and grainy to use."
"Right." Eric chuckles lightly. "They had to try."
Bernard nodded.
"I know it hurts you that I no longer follow The Artist, but-"
"All is well between us Eric. Except, I will try to persuade your return and you in turn will anger, and withdraw from me, and-"
Eric interjected. "You are obligated to bring me back to the Artist. I know, but did you ever consider..."
"Yes? Did I ever consider? You trailed off there."
"Never mind. I know the answer. Goodbye Bernard. I doubt we shall meet again." Eric offered his hand to shake.
"Goodbye Eric. We'll see each other again one last time. The walls will fall soon and then you will return. You will want to know." Bernard shakes Eric's hand.
"Goodbye Bernard." Said Eric gruffly releasing Bernard's hand.
With that, Eric left Ohborn castle. That afternoon he boarded a train with Claude headed for Paris. He was to fill a post at an art institute there.
"I am dead! Please keep the sun out of my face. I want to sleep." Moaned Claude.
"No one is stopping you from pulling the shade." Said Eric annoyed.
"Are you kidding? Whenever we take this route you must see the castle as we pass by, or did you forget?" Argued Claude.
Eric angrily pulled at the shade. In his wrath he failed several times to successfully pull it down ,but once it was done his frame and face relaxed. Eric was not tired, but the dark was soothing. His eyes would never see Ohborn again. He would leave it as the ruin it is, but then a strange rumbling twanged beneath his feet.
"Claude, do you feel that?"
"Hah?" snorted Claude."
"The floor is rumbling."
"We are on a train, Eric!"
"That's not it! The metal..."
Eric gasped as iron rivets began to tremble. No sooner did he observe that did the train screech to a halt. Eric listened out his carriage door. "The rails!" "There is something wrong with them." The rumbling beneath his feet grows, and terror strikes Eric's heart. One thought and one thought alone  permeated his thoughts. Ohborn Castle. Quickly he leaped back to the carriage window and ripped off the shade he so wanted closed moments before.
"We've gone too far I can't see Ohborn!" Eric shouted.
"Ah I knew you couldn't stand it." Hollered Claude after Eric.
Eric didn't stop to respond. He had to see if it was true. He had to run to get a view of Ohborn. He raced against a tide of people trying to make their way to the front. Each one of them furious with the engineer. None of them considering what was happening outside. Eric pushed and forced his way past. He found an exit and kicked it open, and out in the distance Ohborn still stood as small and ugly as ever. Eric laughed a breathless laugh. He hadn't noticed but even the ground beneath him had stopped trembling. He smiled at the castle, as one smiles at a friend who has played a prank, but his smile faded and his brow furrowed and his eyes squinted. The pitched walls of Ohborn were crumbling, and a great cloud of dust swallowed it from view.
"Claude!" Shouted Eric as he freely ran back to his carriage. "We need to get off this train Claude, now!"

Ohborn Castle Pt. Nine

The castle remained unchanged. The rough ground still rolled. The pitch coated rock walls still felt colder than ice, and the light from the scattered openings did not shed deeply. OhBorn is very small. There is the entry chamber with the hole, and the ante chamber. As Eric walked through the entry way he made sure not to look at the hole. He avoided all of it. He steered far clear of the velvet rope blocking its entrance. In the ante chamber, the stairway to the ramparts was blocked off by a metal gate, and that was it. That is the whole of Ohborn. If he dared hop the metal gate and climb the crumbling stair he'd find nothing but a view of the surrounding area. Instead, he re-entered the main chamber. He didn't mean to but he did glance. An accidental glance, but a glance just the same. The hole was there. It's smooth descent into the wall still had its ever alluring pull. Eric's mind filled with memories. Even of memories he could not remember. His parents often told him of his first outer uterus trip to the castle. People asked his parents if they were going to show him the image to which they replied. “We don't do that. It will be his choice.” Eric did eventually view the image when he 12 years old. Did he have a choice even then? Was he pulled by an irresistible call? Or did societal pressure make it impossible for him not to look, or human curiosity? Even now, a devoted skeptic, the pull to look remains. “It is not even that beautiful.” He thought. He could prove that thought to be true too. He could look upon its face and scorn it. He could do it surely. He edged closer. At the line of the velvet rope one can leer in such a way as to see it from afar. (No true need to do it proper.) He inched closer. His hand reached out toward the wall to steady himself.

“No touching at Ohborn!”

Eric couldn't help but to lurch and reel. He spun round to see the worn brown robes of Ohborn's overseer. Yet his voice had not matched him. He shouted like the overseer of his internship days. Of course he would know. He knew his predecessor well.

“Bernard, you nailed him. That was.” He catches his breath. “Superb.”

“And it did the job too. He always scared the bejeebees out of you.”

“Anyone would have been startled. I was told I had free reign to scope out this place.”

“Within reason.”

“Oh is reason a thing here?”

“Funny. Doubly so if they think they can film here. They use digital cameras now correct?”

“They think that will help.”

“Do you think they're right?”

“....”

“I suppose they have to try don't they?”

“You didn't have to give them the go ahead. It wasn't my idea to shoot the interior.”

“I know it wasn't.”

“You knew? But I thought...”

“No. And.. yes. Besides it is good that they are doing this documentary. Ohborn needs to be preserved before the end.”

“Ever the doomsayer! I thought of you last year when the crack pot predicted the world's end for what is it the fourth time? I imagined you in here. Huddled by the wall hoping that the tar would fall.”

Bernard's eyes shift within their settings.

“I knew it. I know you.”

“And I you.”

Ohborn Castle Pt. Eight

“It's not about making good art it is about emulating the artist.” Insisted Bernard on a sunny day years before the documentary shoot.

“Who made great art the best art ever!”

“That's disputed, Eric.”

“Oh discovered created. Either way it was/is still great art. That's the point of this whole business, Bernard!”

“But if one is to fail at making great art the point is still emulating the artist.”

“If the art is not great than they are not a true artist.”

“You know that it isn't just about that. It is about bringing blessings to the people, and if a piece of art makes just one person happy then they are succeeding at emulating the artist.”

“Are you actually saying that sentiment overrides quality?”

“In many cases, yes.”

Eric turns and shakes his head at the ground.

“True happiness is not found in crap.”

“True happiness is accepting.”

“If only the artist was here. He could settle this dispute.”

“It will be settled, with the illumination of death.”

“And we can never know until then?”

“Is that so bad? Is knowing so important?”

“Yes. Yes it is.”

As Eric walked into Ohborn for the first time, since he left it in anger five years earlier. He couldn't help but relive long suppressed conversations with Bernard.

Ohborn Castle Pt Seven

I'm here at the Ohneal excavation a mere five kilometers from Ohborn. This place is a buzz with anticipation. They are searching for artifacts. Not from the Artist himself , but from his ancestor the warrior King. To date, there has been no archeological evidence of the actual existence of Yana. However, here there have been some promising finds. A battle went on here some several hundred years ago, nearly dating to the time the warrior King took over. Could this be the legendary battle that won him this land and ultimately the rocks of Ohborn? Henry Teller chief of this site comments.

"We've had really promising finds. There definitely was a battle here. I don't think we'll find any proof of King Yana, but most certainly more circumstantial evidence. There was a battle here at the right time, and it was the invading force that won. That all aligns with what was is written in the manuscript.”

Circumstances has always been the friend of Ohborn. Storms, and fires have never harmed it. And even during years of famine disease and hardship the overseer of Ohborn has never been absent. During the schism this was said about the overseer of Ohborn.

"Surely there has never been nor will there ever be a stronger form of employment than that of the overseer of Ohbron. It is protected by fate, and is solidified by the beliefs of the multitude. Even the King in all of his splendor cannot touch the hem of his robe.”

This was said as a reaction to the blanket dissociation of the western artistry. While it applied to the common lay artist it did not apply to the Overseer of Ohborn. Indeed, where the line of kings has had several disputes the line of overseers has never been broken nor fought over. Even after the great disassociation.

Ohborn Castle Pt. Six

The age of the rocks- the foundational rocks of Ohborn is a controversial subject. Were they placed there by the ancients like stone henge? Were they a natural phenomena? Are we seriously going here?

“Cut! Read the darn prompter as is Eric!”

“We're not going to get into the age of the rocks debate. It is silly, and boring. Do you want your viewers to be bored to death?”

“This won't be in the main film. This will be on the comprehensive DVD.”

“Comprehensive?”

“Yes.”

“Meaning..”

“An all encompassing explanation of all things associated with Ohborn.”

“You're insane. That would take forever.”

“Oh please. If people can watch the extra features of the Lord of the Rings movies then they can watch this.”

“Not willingly.”

“This will be shown in schools.”

“Those poor people.”

“Come on you studied this stuff.”

“Yes. Yes I did.”

“Now you get to spit it all out.”

“This teleprompter is written from my studies isn't it?”

“I bought more than just your time, Eric.”

Ohborn Castle Pt. Five A conversation with Claude

“After all my years of study and debate, I learned that I still loved to make art, but that I didn't need to follow The Artist to make art.” Explained Eric to his friend.

“That's obvious.” Muttered Claude.

“It isn't when you're in it. The whole world outside Ohborn is the enemy. That includes the art institute. I came from The Group of The Artist. They practice primitive artistry to an extent. As much as it conveniences them.”

“I've heard of them. They are not thought well of in France.”

“So I've heard. The truth of the image can never be fully known. There is no measurable way to discern who had the light alight within them and who doesn't. I think that is a fundamental flaw in the system. Several have tried to fix it with their various tekonlologies, but it can't be done, because it can't be known. Where as good art verses bad art can be known.”

“There you are wrong. Art is subjective.”

“No it is not.”

“Yes it is. What is good to you may not be good for me.”

“Some art just sucks and you know it.”

“I don't know it. If I was so certain I would be able to believe in The Artist.”

“The Artist does not walk this Earth. He's not tangible. A sucky piece of artwork can honestly be evaluated.”

“But there can never be a universal agreement.”

“That's why the institute was started, and see how well they did.”

“Exactly. Somebody will always disagree and they could be right.”

“The world's not full of infinite possibilities.”

“Who are you to judge?”

“Reason is my judge. Reality is everybody's judge. Like I said about the Group of Artistry, it places such emphasis on the manuscript’s validity. When with any historical textual criticism one can easily see it's holes and falsehoods. It's odd to think that studying with them ultimately lead me away from them. You see the manuscript can be known, and it is false. It's the cornerstone of the idea of artistry. It holds the weight of the whole thing. Take that away and it would fall down for anyone. Anyone that pays attention that is.”

“Many American's don't. You are an exception.”

“I'm not an American. I was born in the next town over.”

Ohborn Castle Pt. Four

The influence of Ohborn castle stretches out far beyond its hallowed boundaries. In the year 1100, in the Kingdom of Jerusalem the Universal art institute was formed, with the King of Jerusalem as its head. For centuries it was considered the center of the artistic world. Even long after the Kingdom of Jerusalem fell the King of the art institute remained. Indeed, to this very day, the Universal institute is not considered Israeli owned nor Palestinian. It is its own sovereign nation. Its soul purpose it to lead the world in the ways of The Artist,with its King as his prime representative on Earth. Universal Artists maintain that prime representation has been in place since The Artist's death. They cite that Petrof was the first prime representative, and it has carried on since that day. Just last year the 266^th king of the universal art institute, and Father of all artists was crowned.

Within Ohborn artistry there has always been a certain degree of hierarchical order. The head is of course The Artist himself. Although long dead the record of his words is key to Ohbornian artistry. Or is it? With the starting of the Art institute, and with the King as the prime representative it was his interpretation of the manuscript that dictated how Ohborn artists did art.

Tradition states that Petroph made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem to bring western art to the east. There he died, but not before teaching artistry. Since Petroph is considered the prime representative of the original followers of the Artist his deathbed became a marker, and tribute place of teaching. Or as the University believes founded artistry for the world at large itself.

The Artist

Leader of all true artists.

The Prime Representative (The King)

The prime representation of the Artist on Earth, and the ultimate authority on the interpretation of the Ohborn manuscript.

The Arch Overseer

Is some one that represents over a large region, with several lower overseer's at his subordinates.

The Overseer

Is an authoritative representative, in the line of the original followers of the artist. (Likewise Arch Overseers)

The Representatives

A representative is a man that has dedicated his life's work, possessions, and personal life to art, and teaching the art of the Artist. (Covers for females.)

Lay Artists

Are any artist that volunteers his or her time in some way. All true artists must act as lay artists at some point in their careers.

The above is a listing of the hierarchy of the Jerusalem artistry.

There two standard methods of viewing image on the wall. One is totally daring to dredge through the dark and see the image up close. The other is to peer down from a distance. This methodology is a hotly debated topic. To be certain primitive artists always approached the image, but sometime in the 1200's the practice of peering became common place especially for the elderly and the feeble. Then upon common practice of the Jerusalem order peering became that standard. It was also at this time that infants were ordered by the King to view the image. This would be an initiation rather than an actual charge to become an artist. As part of the seven sections of artistry. It was also in the 1200's that the Germanic people broke allegiance with the King. While the method of initiation wasn't the cause of this schism it did not help matters. Not surprisingly, one easy way to tell a Jerusalem artist from a Germanic one was how they viewed the wall. Oddly, both parties opted to have their infants gaze upon the wall. However, some went up close and some from afar. Those that needed to travel far in order for their infant to view the wall would often travel while still pregnant. This practice was so common that the area around Ohborn became known as the birthing center of the world.

Ohborn Castle Pt. Three

Considering that both Hitler and Napoleon attempted to rip down these great walls, it is amazing to think how painstakingly preserved they are. Thanks in no short part to those still devoted to pitch. Indeed, it was the tar and pitch ceremonies that prevented Napoleonic armies from coming here, and it was their warning that alerted the overseer to divert Hitler. Yes, to this very day the tar and pitch ceremony goes on; to a greatly lesser extent. Ever since the dark ages, those who pitch, have been at odds with those who hold to Johann's theory. While most of the populace converted to the artists ideals, there have always been those that kept to the old ways. This lead to much fighting even at times blood shed. However, in the 1200's a compromise was made. The tar and pitch ceremonies could continue on the outer wall, and the viewing ceremonies would carry on from within the Ohborn. This compromise continued with dotted disputes until the 20^th century. When post world wars preservation came into power. Laws were past that limited any contact with Ohborn regardless of opinion. Ohborn was to be preserved, and not stripped or pitched unless it was architecturally necessary to do so. This being the case, the professionals hired to do the work must have an aligned opinion with their allotted work. Meaning a tar and pitch man must be a follower of the old ways, and a stripper must be an Artist.

“And Cut. Good you did that with a straight face. I'm proud of you.”

“You should be.”

“We're adding a segment about the initiation process. We're going to shoot it in Ohborn itself. We're hoping to do a reenactment.”

“What? We don't have clearance to shoot in Ohborn!”

“I just got it. Once the overseer heard you were the host of this project he agreed. He said he wished he would have known sooner.”

“You didn't have any right to use my name.”

“I didn't tell him. He found out on his own. Although it was quite providentially helpful to us.”

Eric sighed and shook his head. The unavoidable nature of this situation infuriated him. A shooting in Ohborn would certainly be disastrous. No, he wasn't one of those superstitious types, but the castle was not meant for film equipment. Several accidents have happened to people wanting to film inside Ohborn. Fires, equipment failures, injuries and even a couple of deaths have happened. The castle is dark, and the floor is slick. Many attempts have been made over the years to electrify the castle, at least in part, but to no avail. It was speculated that there was some kind of natural magnetic current under the ground that caused electronics to malfunction. Eric knew this to be true on a personal level. He was 19 when he received his summer internship at Ohborn. He had the audacity to bring his cell phone with him into the castle. (Even though it was forbidden to do so.) Not only did he have no signal, but his phone's memory was totally wiped. Bernard, who was only a representative at the time, thought it was hilarious. Bernard was quite a friend to Eric back then. Sometimes people are lucky enough to find a friend who shares the same madness. Eric and Bernard were mad. They were mad for Ohborn.

Neither Eric nor Bernard were much interested in practicing art so much as they were interested in study. Indeed, the limitless amount of study that was to be done in and around Ohborn thrilled them both. It had taken Bernard ten years to get a representative placement at Ohborn. Where as Eric fell into his internship through privilege and chance. Yet Bernard never begrudged Eric that. He knew that having things come easily was its own punishment.

Eric delighted in debating. Especially during his internship at Ohborn. In America there are many people that attempt to “Do art.” Yet few know what they are doing and or talking about. The cultural desert that is his American home had often disgusted Eric. So many people making stick figures, and calling them great because they were inspired by the image. “It is not like it is difficult to study.” Eric would often grumble. He'd find himself disgusted by the common American artists. They claimed to be so concerned about art classes being removed from school's, but indifferent to learning and teaching art themselves.

“That's not my only peeve with Americans Bernard.” Eric said one day many years before he made the documentary.

“Do tell me Eric. Complaining-Eric is so good for the artistic soul.”

“As is sarcasm.”

“No truly. Share with me the world of tasteless Americans.”

“They are wasteful and hurt the artistry of nature. It's like they forget the image on the wall was part of nature, and that the old way was all about preserving natural art. Nothing that we artists create can compete with the natural beauty of the rocks or sea, or a flower of pity's sake.”

“True, but we do paint those things.”

“And we try to copy the image on the wall. In fact, all of artistry, in some form or another attempt to recreate the image on the wall.”

“All of Ohborn artistry.”

“Yes. The false artists that have never seen nor emulated the image.”

“There are false artists that emulate.” He laughs. “There are even false artists that have looked upon the image.”

“Well that's debatable. Once an artist always an artist.”

“If you stay an artist. If someone stops emulating the image all together they shall not benefit from it in death.”

“Johann's theory.”

“You take the non-mystical approach.”

“No. I believe it. Just not the way you do. I don't think. It is good to believe that the rocks will somehow illuminate the dead. When they are revealed.”

“I'm telling you it will happen in our day. We'll see the rocks in person.”

“Many people have said that, Bernard.”

“I am not people.”

Ohborn Castle Pt.Two

During the 1500's the sturdy tie between Jerusalem and the rest of Europe not only buckled, but downright shredded into several hundreds of sects. Each birthing new tekonologies, and artistic practices. One new Art institute that started in the Genovian Swiss alps was particularly influential, and its tekonology is practiced to this very day.

The Tekonology of Genovia

Totally talentless, Also known as Total inability, and original idiocy.

When the first human baby was born into this world it was totally an utterly talentless. Too weak to even hold a paintbrush let alone craft a masterpiece. A child's very nature is to make messes and not art, and no one is ever able to overcome this natural state of being. No matter how much one matures or practices their art. It will always stink.

Unconditionally chosen

No one is chosen by the “one” based upon their abilities. New artists are made from the scum of the earth to the Kings in their splendor. There is no way to increase your odds of being chosen. It just happens. Not even looking upon the image grants artistry that is merely the point when the artists becomes aware of his or her status.

Limited amount of gifted

Sadly, not everyone is chosen. Only few are bestowed the blessings of the artist. These few make themselves known through their great art. If one that claims to have been chosen makes poor art they were never gifted to begin with.

Irresistible call

Once chosen, not matter what they will find themselves at Ohborn castle. No one that is called there does not make it there. All of the chosen find a way.

Forever an Artist

Once a chosen person always a chosen person. They can never make bad art again. They are forever an artist.

“Here is your new notes.” Says a tall thin man, with a heavy french accent.

Eric snatches up the papers, from the French man's hand. His eyes roll ferociously.

“We're going to cover Johann’s theory next. Out of all the drivel to choose from they went with Johann's theory. Truly, why did I take this job, Claude?”

“Easy. For the money and a chance to show off how brilliant you are.”

“Yes, with a fake accent and a teleprompter.”

“You are the one avoiding teaching, and I know why too.”

“Why is that?”

“For the same reason you did not fight to film up by the castle.”

“You're wrong.”

“Am I? Everyone one knows you could have persuaded Bernard. Yet you did not even try.”

“I didn't want to film by the castle because it is unnecessary. Long distance shots are fine. There was no need for me to speak with Bernard again. It is not that I am avoiding him.”

Bernard was the overseer of Ohborn castle. He was a traditional representative artist, and at one time a friend to Eric. They had a falling out some years before, back when Eric was a traditional representative artist in training. Eric often cited that his loss of artistry was traced back to the critical studies he did there with Bernard.

Here behind me stands Ohborn castle. Ancient and silent, and ever a mystery to the naïve.

“Cut! Again this time without the snark!”

Ohborn castle standing majestically behind me. Not as a regal palace, but as a near holy shrine. These pitch covered rocks,and the guarding rocks above them have forged many tales, and none more controversial than Johann's theory. Johann is said to have been one of the original followers of The Artist. He and his brethren greatly expanded the tekonology of the Artist, but his point of interest is his theory of the fate of Ohborn Castle. Joahann's supposed writings on the subject is several pages long. So in this case I think the 18^th century English poet sums up his work best.

“Behold the walls have tumbled, and the tar has been made to dust, the whole of the picture is shown to us. The Artist work shall be made complete, and the light of the ONE will all artists feed. The faithful dead will see it too. All their talent they will accrue for rocks live forevermore.”

Johann articulated that if ever the fullness of the one's picture is revealed, then all artists would be great even after death. This includes those long dead. A lovely sentiment. However, some would call fanatic traditionalists have taken Johann's supposed theory to new levels. They speculate that a hidden fault line lies underneath the castle,and it will mean the End of Ohborn, and the revealing of full image on the rock. No such fault line has ever been found. Which has lead to even more radical ideas. There are some that propose detonating the castle's foundation. This has been proposed by both believer and skeptic alike. Citing that it would prove once and for all who is right.

“Cut! That's good except at the end there. Instead of saying 'who is right,' I'd like you to say either ' what is the truth' or 'fact from fiction.'”

“I like it the way I said it.”

“Well I don't! Get with it Eric or you're out of a job!”

They re-shot this take more than any other. Both of them were determined to have their way. They ended up settling on “fact from fiction.” Their bickering lasted for so long that they lost their lighting and had to retire for the evening. The commentary of the preservation of Ohborn had to wait until morning light.

Ohborn Castle Pt. One (Last year's NaNoWriMo)

Ohborn Castle, Charlemagne referred to it as the great heaping pile of rock. His comment is understandable. Ohborn isn't much to look at. Not even by plain castle standards, but within it conceals a treasure sought after by Kings and peasant's alike. Ohborn was built and completed sometime between 504 and 900 CE. Although the oral tradition around the castle goes back much further, to the history of the rocks themselves. To put it in perspective here is an excerpt from one of the oldest known documented record of the castle's origins.

“Before the god's sang their song. Before there was day or night. There was the rocks of Ohborn. Life giving light shined from them. For theses rocks were from the ONE.”

For centuries scholars would argue who the “one” referred to. Many believed it to be some kind of supreme deity. Others claim it as more of a concept than an actual being. Whatever it meant the local populace took it quite seriously. They would ceremoniously coat the rocks with tar as early as the year 24 BCE. When the Roman's took control, in the early first century, they commented on this.

“The barbarians have a sacred place where they dump pitch as an offering to their gods. It is to be covered due to its bright color. The rocks have been investigated and are not precious, merely unusual. Their rites will be allowed to continue.”

That is the only known reference to the rocks having any color, until 600CE. When The Artist appeared. Modern scholars dispute The Artist's existence, but for the sake of impartiality both the traditional and the more critical view will be taken into account.

The tradition claims that in the year 504 CE. a warrior King discovered the rocks of Ohborn. He had conquered the surrounding land and either decided to build his stronghold upon the rocks or a temple to honor the rocks, or perhaps both theories are true. Either way the early date for the castle's erection took place by that warrior King, as told by The Artist over one hundred years later. The Artist claimed he was a descendent of that warrior King, and therefore the rightful owner of the castle. The local lord of that time did not take keenly to the lowly peasant's claim. However, his fears were diminished when The Artist claimed lordship solely over the castle and not over the people.

This peace did not last long for although it is said that that the castle had been abandoned for over 70 years, the tar and pitch ceremony had carried on and the locals did not appreciate The Artist's assertion that he knew what was behind the layers of tar.

The Artist mingled among the people making figurines and, spinning wool, and singing songs. His works were splendid, but his words cut to the heart. The Artist proclaimed that the pitch rituals must come to an end, and the rocks must be revealed. The people argued that the tar was a coating to protect the image on the rocks, and that the ceremonies must continue. The artist said:

“The castle walls protect it now, and they have since the King's day.”

The people were then divided. Some believing in the authority of The Artist and others believed him to be a fool. The rocks were only to “Bless those that honor the tar-pitch ways, and curse those would dare look upon its bare face.”

Then The Artist is said to have said. “You are right when you say those that added the tar were blessed. They persevered the rocks for this day. For it is on this day the tar will come down.”

At this, the people raged for they knew his plan. They seized him and struck him until his last breath. The pitch ceremony carried on just as it had done each and every year. They carried the tar up Ohborn hill ready to spread the pitch inside and out. However, when the crowds arrived at the castle there they discovered the artist's followers, with their faces alight like stars. The Artist had already removed a small portion of the tar, and his followers had seen the unadulterated rock's surface. The people shook with fear, but the chief among the followers said, “Fear not for we are blessed. We will live among you just as The Artist did, and you will reap rewards from our company though you curse us, but if you join us you will provide for yourself and those around you as well.”

This is the story traditionalists claim proves that the rock painting of Ohborn Castle bears the image from “the One” himself. And that upon looking on that image would bless anyone, and make them into a great artist. In fact, many followers, to this very day hold this belief as literal. However, modern skeptics and debunks-ers claim that this 8^th century manuscript is at best heavily altered, and at worst a downright fabrication. Indeed, scientists have analyzed the image and found it contains traces of paint particles dating back to the middle ages. Traditionalists argue that the paint they found was added by misguided followers thinking they ought to add to the artists discovery. Traditional leaning scientists claim that the age of the cut away is proof of image's validity. That it confirms the cutting took place in 600 CE. as the manuscripts states. While that assertion is widely disputed it does not debunk the claim that the image itself was not painted in the middle ages.

Indeed, many liberal followers accept the notion that the artist cut away the tar and upon discovering the wall to be blank, painted his own masterpiece and by that he was blessed. In the same way, the Artist's followers must practice their craft in order to become great artists.

No matter what one chooses to believe there is no doubt that Ohborn castle has forever changed how the world does art. There is nearly no famous artist in post Ohborn existence that has not seen or at the very least studied the image on the wall. All of the Renaissance painters made a pilgrimage to Ohborn. That is a powerful proof for traditionalists. Skeptics disregard this by citing the thousands of others that have not become great artists. Still that does not stop the flow of people that come to Ohborn, climb down that pitch lined tunnel to see up close, or those less brave to see from the top of the cutting to see the image. They come to Ohborn during the traditional month of pitch, but instead of adding tar to wall, they climb up the hill and down at a hole to be "inspired."

“Cut!” Yelled an indignant documentary director.

“Finally! How long do I have to keep up this English accent?” Asked an agitated Austrian-American.

“As long as it takes to shoot, and it will take forever if you keep up this sarcasm.” Gritted the director.

“That jab was sincere.”

“Not everyone is a cynic like you. People take this stuff seriously. We are to respect their beliefs.”

“What about mine? Impartial my ass!”

Thus is the sentiment of the Ohborn documentary’s narrator. His name is Dr. Eric Wall PHD. He is an expert in art history. Heavily respected in his field, and ought to be teaching in some high class educational institution, but he is not. Instead, he is in a forgotten region between Germany and Austria shooting a documentary on a subject that has entangled his entire life, and even before then. His parents met at Ohborn Castle. His American Father was apprehended for trying to get inside the castle. He would have had criminal charges brought against him if it were not for his future wife. She persuaded the arresting officer to releases him, and the rest is history. Eric was to be born in Austria and raised in between there and the US. His adult years have been spent studying and traveling the globe. However, his steps always lead him back up the hill to Ohborn. This has happened so often that if he was a follower of the Artist he would have a Geneva tekonology. 

Art Assignemnt Off

The Art Assignment #8 Walk on it

Art Assignment #5 The not so quiet country life.

The Art assignment #4 Never seen never will see