The Life of Loomis.

something i thought about on the way home today. just notes of a short story i need to start writing. Its not very descripitive just main points or ideas.


a famous artist has a horrific accident. leaving half his face disfigured.
at the time he was in love with a woman.
a woman who was in love with beauty.
the beauty of his art... and the beauty of his looks.

he became an empty soul. feeling sorry for himself.. anger quickly filled his lungs.
she became ashamed. ashamed of his face. ashamed of the shell that this man was now consumed in.

now alone, he realizes he feel in love with someone fake.
society doesn't cast him out... that would be too easy on his soul... or whats left of it.

hes treated as a freak.
sells his paintings and buys a place in solitude.
years go by and hes nothing more than a myth.

drugs, attempted suicide, alcoholism, depression, anger, sadness

after years and years he learns to see himself as a work of art.
a man visually half way in reality and the other surreal or abstract.
one half of his face owns the beauty that his life once was.
the other the face of a creature.... a myth....

he has to figure out how to sell himself, his art.
he has to figure out how to be a glorious piece of art himself.
marketing himself. redemption. rebuild himself.

redemption of a mans soul. show the world as we know it. full of hate and anger.
and show the soul as we know it can be. full of endless hapiness.