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HaniArt WEEKLY NEWS

ISSUE 8

6 August 2013


CONTENTS Page 1. Page 2. Page 3. Page 4. Page 5. Page 6. Page 7. Page 8. Page 9. Page 10. Page 11-18 Page 19

Front Cover - Sketch by Hania Contents My note to you this week: My Secret Project! Large Artworks - Fishy fishy fishy! Large Artworks - Not only Art; Bargains for home! Music Monday: Memory Planet Chapter 2 Instrumental Take'em Thursday: Episode 11: What is it that I do, exactly? Fan Art by Sylvie Taylor Stocksdale Fan Art by Katalina Hinton Fan Art by Tyler Dohrn & Sinclair Portes Memory Planet: Chapter 7 Contact me!


My notes this week... I’ve created a twitter for Memory Planet! @MemoryPlanet. Each day I’ll be posting something relevant to the story; it’s a great place for you all to ask questions and get the answers! Also, this week’s chapter of Memory Planet might be a little too much for some to handle, so read with caution. Also, make sure that if you enjoy the story, to share it with your friends! I’d love this story to start getting a good solid following so I can turn it into a musical, or film, or animation, or game... the possibilities are endless as long as there are awesome people enjoying it! :D So spread the word!

I HAVE A SECRET PROJECT THAT NEEDS YOU! I can’t say too much, but if you’re interested in being involved in a future Video Clip (on & off camera people needed) then email me! music@myhaniart.com - let me know your age, location and what you’ re good at! For example: Camera operator, Lighting, Special FX, Dancing, Acting, Stage Design, Costume Design... :D Simple! I’ll then get back to you about what it’s about and we’ll see if we can get you on board! Remember, if there's something that you'd like to have me include in my weekly newsletters, let me know in the comments because I do listen! Regards, -Hania


Large Artwork Bargains!! 17 inches (43cm)

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Not just art! Etsy Bargains for Home! Click on the pictures for more details!

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MUSIC MONDAY:


Take'em Thursday; Episode 11

What is it that I do, exactly???


Fan Art!

This week I asked people on Facebook to sketch up me as a My Little Pony Character! The first drawing is by Sylvie Taylor Stocksdale.


Fan Art!

The second picture is by Katalina Hinton! I think both Silvie and Katalina captured my love of the color Blue, my character, and passion for music. I had requested that I be a princess, so they both ensured that I had a horn a wings in their design! Thank you both so much for the original art! I really LOVE it!


Fan Art! And these two used PonyMaker to create their version of me - also very cool! Thanks guys! :D This pony was created by Tyler Dohrn

This pony was created by Sinclair Portes

This week, I’m wondering how I would look like as a smurfette? Draw something and post it on my Facebook Page (Hania HaniArt) and your art could be featured Next!


MEMORY PLANET

Original Story by Hania Zdunek

Chapter 7. The Shell is buzzing. It has been for the past 3 days. The halls are filled with residents returning from their missions, stories of epic battles and victories. Cheers and high hopes for their world to continue being alive, to keep their families on the surface safe and comfortable. Then there are those that are buzzing internally; the ones that have never needed to kill another species but under these circumstances, have taken a liking to it. These individuals are the ones that slunk to their chambers and reminisce of the horrors they’ve just seen. Peter decides to take a shower. He undresses and places his armour into the clearly labeled USED ARMOUR bin. He slides the lid back across the top and hears the armour whizz down a chute to somewhere unknown. He takes a few things out from his pant pockets and carefully places one in the cabinet behind his mirror, then throws the others onto his bed; an access card and a necklace. He strips off his shirt and pants, socks and briefs and turns on the water.


The hot water flowing into his hair, spilling over his face and down his muscular body is just what he needs after a day like today. He tilts his head upwards, opens his eyes and feels the hot drips of water thud onto his eyeballs, sending a jolt through his body as they make contact. He keeps his eyes open for as long as he can. The floor of the shower is steel, like most other things in The Shell, but regardless of the material, it’s covered in blood. Peter checks himself for any cuts but there are none. This blood belongs to the parents of a little girl. He smiles to himself. He wonders what the President of Energy is going to do with her. If it were up to Peter, he would have the most sensational plan; Another species, harnessed through technology, forever his to command. Peter notices some blood on his wrist that the hot water hasn’t been able to wash off. As he scratches at it, he remembers how this blood came to be on him... Her mother was pleading with him to spare them. A different language, but he could see it in her eyes. She was crying so loudly that the very sight of her tears bothered him.


He remembers slapping her in the face; how good that felt. But it felt better when he noticed that his glove had slipped off to expose his hand and wrist. This was a good feeling because it had made him angrier. At her. The tears were still running out of her large, blue eyes. He remembers being mesmerised by those eyes. Those big, deep blue eyes. He just had to have them. Peter’s thoughts are interrupted by a loud knock at the door. He turns the water off and scrambles for a towel “Just a second. Hang on!” He opens the door to find a woman standing with her hands on her hips, tapping her foot on the steel floor. “Hello Lisha” he mumbles. “You were supposed to come and get me the moment you landed, Peter!” she pushes past him into his chamber. “Or did you forget?” Peter shifts uncomfortably on his feet and scratches his bicep then the back of his head. He gives Lisha the cutest smile he can muster up and throws his towel on the floor.


His bare body is almost glowing red from the heat of the water, and steam is still lifting off his flesh. Lisha looks him up and down. “You’re a lobster.” She chuckles. “A handsome lobster, but still... a lobster. What do you expect me to do with you, Mr. Crustacean?” Lisha sits down on his bed and crosses her legs and arms as a sign of ABSOLUTELY NOT. Her stare doesn’t shift from him though. “Well,” begins Peter “if I am a Lobster, then you should technically boil me up and eat me, in a tossed salad.” His eyebrows rise up and down comically. Lisha stands, walks back to the door, but not without a last little glance and slap on his bare red bum, lets herself out and is gone from the room. Peter lifts his towel and takes it back to the bathroom. He did not enjoy that at all. He tries to calm himself down by thinking back to the killing. The father, laying with his throat cut. The blood spilling under the bed where he found her. The little girl. Peter had made it a habit to take something to remember each of his missions from this new world.


He had dropped his memorabilia and when he went to retrieve it from under the bed, there she was. “Peter!” Lisha’s voice muffled through the door. “Peter I’m still waiting. We’ re going to be so incredibly late! Hurry up!” Damn it. Peter walks to his wardrobe and picks out some black pants, a crisp red shirt and a red satin tie; he’ll continue the Lobster joke with this outfit. He slides on some business socks and wiggles his feet into his polished black shoes. He’s almost ready. “I’m almost ready!” He yells out. Peter checks himself over in the wall mirror and breathes into his hand. Oh, awful! His breath smells horrible! He heads back into the bathroom and starts brushing his teeth. As he looks out to his room, he sees the necklace twinkling in the dim light. He’ll need to remember to take that and give it to Lisha. She’ll stop being so angry with him if she has something pretty. At least for a week.


He remembers pulling the child out from under the bed and staring at her. She wasn’t crying. Her face was blank and empty. He wanted so much to just sit her down and test how much she could handle before breaking down, like her mother. But he wouldn’t have the chance. The President of Energy was visiting the missions today and had just landed at his scene. “President Murdoch.” Peter announced after putting the little girl down to the floor. She stood there calmly at his side, looking up at him. “Cadet.” Murdoch boomed. “After tonight, Sir, I’ll be a fully fledged Troopman.” Peter stated proudly. President Murdoch huffed a congratulations and turned his attention to the little girl and the dead parents. “Explain this... excessive use of violence, Cadet.” “A grenade had exploded in this room a moment before I entered. The little girl was lucky to be hiding under the bed, where I found her, Sir.” Peter lied. The President knelt down to the child and she tilted her head at him, still no tears. Peter could see a connection between them. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but they were connecting. Like an unspoken truce.


“You’re coming with me.” President Murdoch picked up the girl and walked out of the room. With her chin on his right shoulder, the girl’s glare did not leave Peter. Emotionally challenged. Peter remembers thinking to himself. Peter finishes up and looks at himself in the mirror. Still slightly pink from the heat in his skin, he admires himself. What a good looking guy. He stares into his brown eyes, smiles and remembers his memorabilia. A spark of excitement rushes through him as he quickly opens up the mirror to look inside the cabinet. “Peter!” Yells Lisha. “The Troopman ceremony starts in 10 minutes! Get out here, NOW!” Peter is ready to be a Troopman. But not before he takes a moment to admire his prize from the mission. There, inside the cabinet, in a small, clear glass jar, are the two, big, deep blue eyes.


President Murdoch taking the child away from her dead parents.


Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave comments below about your experience as I'd love to know your thoughts! Email me directly if you'd like to discuss options for music and art commissions! For art... For music... art@myhaniart.com | music@myhaniart.com


HaniArt Weekly News - Issue 8