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DUNE I

Dune | Conceptual rendering project

After following Denis Vilineuve’s “Dune” films, reading Frank Herbert’s Trilogy and The Graphic Novels - I was inspired to create a fictitious cabin for Duncan Idaho on Arrakis. To assist with the feeling, I have written a narrative to accompany the images.

Sketchup, Vray

Duncan knew the night was windy

as soon as his parched eyes struggled to open.

It had been some time since he slept under the sheets.

It was nice. Comforting.



Slowly making his way to the kitchen,

with only a glowglobe illuminating the cold floor,

he stopped at the kitchen to warm up last night's spice coffee over the stove.

He leant over the smooth counter

and gazed across

to the space beneath the skylights

in the middle of the house.

A map of Arrakis was engraved on the concrete floor

and framed by a sunken platform surrounded by stairs.

He naturally started looking at the map but then stopped…

“Not yet”.

To the left of the house, there were patches of dust

that had obviously seeped through the walls last night.

This would’ve bothered him but

the crackling sound from the coffee pot erased any bother in that moment.



While carefully filling a cup with his favourite ladle

from a market in Arrakeen

he felt around for the switches on the wall

that controlled the pivot doors.

And flicked both of them up.



Slowly

but quietly

he watched Arrakis come into view

as all twenty-six stone gabion doors opened.



He took his seat at the floor’s edge

in between two of the doors

and gazed at the desert planet’s eternal dust blanket.

It was such a clear morning

that he could count thirty-five rows of sand dunes until they met the horizon.



“I am only doing my part in this world.

I will experience this day for I know that it’s real.”

Before he could get to the last sip of coffee

he noticed a peculiar dust pattern

in between the fifteenth and sixteenth sand row

which just didn’t feel right.

Grabbing his stillsuit from where it hung

in yesterday’s dust

after shoving a handful of smuggled raisins into his mouth

he jumped onto the nearest ladder

which reflected the warm concrete walls it was fixed to.

Switching the door controls down

and watching those thirteen giant windows

into the desert

get smaller and smaller

darkening the house

and closing with a metallic clunk.

He climbed past the water reserve tanks in the coffered slab

where the air felt cool and quiet

which lasted just a moment before opening the hatch to the roof

arriving directly below the ornithopter.



He climbed in, took his seat

and turned the engines on after a deep breath.


Duncan took one last look over the horizon

through the murky yellow-tinted glass of the cockpit

as he prepared to take off.



“Those raisins are not going to be enough to get me to lunch”