Sunday, 9 September 2007
Welcome to the brand spanking new Web 2.0–ified ecanus•net! It's been a long time coming, but the old place was beginning to look a little grubby, so I decided it was time for a makeover. Much of v1 of the site was lost in a somewhat unplanned server move during September 2006 – some of it will be finding it's way back online eventually, other bits probably won't, but the site now has a couple of new bits along with some of the stuff that was formerly on my MasterWeb site. I hope you like them!
Welcome to ecanus•net, my own little cover of cyberspace. ecanus•net is a place where I share completed works of fiction, works in progress and thoughts on life, the universe and everything.
You're probably wondering why this page has got a picture of a birdhouse on it....and if you weren't before you probably are now <hehe!> Well, it's there for the simple reason that I couldn't find a suitable picture of an ordinary house. ecanus•net itself doesn't live in a house; it lives on a server, but I couldn't find a suitable pic of one of those either, so it looks like we're all stuck with the birdhouse for now!
"Enough of your rambling!" I hear you cry. "What's this place about then?" Well....ecanus•net is the home of my creative ramblings, including the archive of my poetry, and a selection of my short stories.
There's also a graphics section, containing some of my graphics which you may or may not find useful, some of my photography (the ones where I remembered to take the lens cap off!), and it's also home to my smiley collection which you're free to use to post on forums etc. as long as you follow the rules. There's also a section on web design, my assorted ramblings on accessibility, and code snippets which I've found useful for my sites. The relaunched blog will follow along again very shortly.
Make yourself at home, take your shoes off and make yourself comfortable.
Appearing below with any luck you should be seeing one of my latest poems. These are selected randomly by the squirrels that run this place, so if you don't like the one that's there, try refreshing the page and see what comes up – just don't do it too often or the squirrels get a bit antsy if they have to do too much work! ;–)
That night I dreampt of daemons,
winged black, and swirling and wheeling,
They were a malevolent force,
crowding my consciousness
and sucking me down into sleep,
black lace wings brushing my face,
caressing me with razor talons.
But I could not give in to their sweet siren's song,
whispered lullabies heard barely,
above the hum of the machine.
Now still machine.
Yet their song enchanted me still.
That night I dreampt of daemons.
Not at rest.
Not in peace.