top of page
  • Writer's pictureLammergeier Staff

The Death Scholar | Elliott Orchard-Blowen

A mixed media piece composed of cut-out poetry and collage with a messy watercolor background. The background is mostly blue, with a circular section of red on the right, which surrounds the illustration of a young boy’s profile in a gold frame. He has short brown hair, gray eyes, and wears a white collar and blue tie. Below and to the left of this image, a picture of a middle-aged man stares ahead at the viewer. He has graying hair, wears brown glasses, and has a small mustache. He leans forward with his shoulders hunched, and he rests his chin on his hands. His forearms lie flat, and are crossed in front of him, with two human skulls in front of each elbow. Below this, there is an illustration of a black cat gazing out a window at a winter forest. To the right, there is a photo of a black person, who’s skin is painted bright white. Their hair is curly, and in an afro. A black dotted line bisects their face and neck, and disappears under their blue dress. Two red hands, with white dotted lines down the middle, rest on each of their shoulders. Cut-out poetry is scattered across the whole piece. The title, “The Death Scholar”, is in big font at the bottom of the man’s image. The text reads;   “I have things inside of me I don’t understand. Things I don’t like. a man with eyes like a snake’s Big hands. Gentle hands. Like a wild creature’s death song it didn’t kill anything except humans to save us from ourselves There was no way to be free of him, not anymore. Maybe we hurt the world. Maybe we even killed it. I’d discovered some kind of arcane, secret knowledge It’s strange, but it doesn’t really bother me to die slowly in the dying world What are you waiting for? I would have to tell them I’m actually waiting for nothing. But we missed you entirely gaze at the sky, waiting for the end to come on the edge of things “So we’ll stick with Plan B” Plan B was me the death of the natural world Something’s happening outside I have no hope. I’ve reached the end The entire human race, dead forever I wander for hours, losing track of direction. Me, myself, and my thoughts. I will grieve forever. The world is dead, I don’t mind if you take your time”

Elliott Orchard-Blowen is an artist, writer, and aspiring local hermit/ghost story. He currently lives in New England, though his mind is somewhere beyond our atmosphere. You can find him at your local second-hand store, kitschy bookshop, or in the dumpsters behind a strip mall. Just knock three times on the lid.



bottom of page