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  • #1308

    In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      September 24 th

      Quintin remembered a snapshot of the notes that Dory had taken during her first trip to the Madagascan caves, a year ago.

      Relevant extracts:

      At one moment, I saw some hooded figure in the sideways tunnels… He vanished on the left, couldn’t follow him…
      […] HE KNEW HIS WAY INSIDE !
      When he vanished, I had the vision of something, […] like the layout of a labyrinth, of cave tunnels — that are all underground and the many entrances are all over the world… PORTALS
      focus opening/doors ; time/space…
      The central cavernous part is some kind of key center, where anyone can meet…

      This has inspired Quintin to write some notes too.
      He has the vision of these portals organized as clusters, like a tree, with branches and leaves… I will send him a more detailed image, but that may take him some time to digest!

      September 26 th

      The latest additions to the story have inspired Quintin. He had some inkling of how “essence” (or what is somewhat referred as “oversoul” ) and all the “focus” of essence (or lifetimes) interplay, and are not as separate as they sometimes seem to be.

      Here would be what we will say to him, if he wants to listen:

      « Now, terminology can become tricky as, for much time, you have been accustomed to be considering of your experience as the projection of that of an “essence”, somewhat separate from you, the lowly focus.
      Of course, you pretend the contrary, and become quite nifty in brandishing sentences like “I am essence, and I create all of my reality”, which you are and do actually, but that you do not always believe and trust.
      These terms of “essence” and “focus” were given to you as means for you to better understand the interplay of consciousness. In the beginning of the acquaintance with these new terminologies, you have felt them remotely blurry and unrelated to previous concepts, which was the intention. But now, you once again objectify your understanding in something too rigid at times, and that little story is giving you a hint of what your real power is.
      And you begin to really experience it, and really pay attention.

      « As was expressed many times, “essence” is no thing. It is an action.
      The “essence” is each of you, that very portion of you that you feel when you slide your attention into the comment box.
      In that, your purpose, you see, is only to experience, nothing more, nothing less.
      And then time, as you know it, becomes irrelevant, you see. Your natural time is expressed through you and your explorations.
      Notice how playfully, as essence (essence playing focus or focus playing essence), you let your natural time unfold, and at times find some strange weather pattern in your awareness that needs clarification. As essence, you playfully find the most perfect habits [shapes and clothings] to wrap around you, and continue your story.
      Just as your dreams at night overlap and blend into each other.
      Just as Rafaela created new focuses [Sam and Becky] to continue to play and make the story expand for all of the other focuses, Dory included.

      « That “I” of you is ever present, and is reflected perfectly in others’ perceptions, as you are drawing them to you purposefully. Do not brush aside their adjuncts, for they are also you, having moved your pawns forward, so to speak, through their moves.

      « Thus understand that the story is a continuous stream reflecting the essence that is you, and your travel through the various guises you borrow.
      In that manner, it does not matter how much sense it makes in linear terms. Because, in a way, it can’t make sense in these linear terms.

      « Let us explain this in other terms.
      When you found difficulties in understanding the “scheme” so to speak, the figure that is drawn by the participants, it is because you apply the linear understanding of what such a scheme should be.
      In that, you only perceive the “plot” as a succession of dots without a continuity, whereas the continuity is to be found in the other stories interwoven.
      You are accustomed to stories where a single individual is enacting throughout the play, in a linear continuous fashion. The individual goes through many different actions, but is always the same in your perception.
      Here, the tricky thing is to notice the continuity throughout the various habits [clothings] taken by the essence(s). It matters not that the essence takes that guise of say, a pirate sailing on high seas, just after having been an old crafty Lord in his windy castle. The underlying aspects of his exploration has been continuous and coherent: in this case, exploring and making sense of one’s exploration. It is just that a certain appearance has been perhaps more fitting to express certain aspects or qualities of essence, but the exploration has been one, throughout the entirety of the experience.

      « We will let you ponder this, and we will continue our own story, writing about you… »

      September 28 th

      This sand symbol that Quintin has brought up seemed to have come from many directions at once. Each character has connected it, in various ways.
      Armelle (Arona) to her magic, Rafaela (Becky) to her collecting customs, etc. etc.

      Let us say that this symbol is not as innocent as it may seem. There are lots of associations with sand.
      It is solid, yet fluid. In association with water, it can be used to build, and also to erode. It can shift into many forms, one of which is your glass, and your electronic components.
      And most of all, it is, after your very oxygen, the most abundant constituent of your reality.
      It is almost limitless in your understanding.
      As is your magic.

      This magical device we made Quintin see in a visualization is an analogy of your very action of creation as essences.
      The sand which molds itself to make forms and shapes in three dimensions is in fact likened to your consciousness. Each grain of sand represents your links of consciousness that bind together to do your command.
      The shapes are moved by your essences, in which you may see that the essence is no thing at all, but is a continuous stream of action, not separate from others’.

      As Quintin said to Fiona, some individuals do differently when they create and shape their sands.
      In analogy with the coloured sands, some people like Quintin enjoy using other people’s colours in shaping his own characters, while some others prefer to keep their own colours, to create a more definite sense of individuality. But they integrate the others’ movements and shapes nonetheless, regardless of how much they perceive it to be coming from them.

      With that said, let us see how much more will appear from that sandbox…

      September 30 th

      The Wrick family tree as it is now (or “will be” drawn around the time of the twins in 2057).

      The Secret Life of Margaret Wrick , a newspaper cut from 2033.

      October 7 th

      The dragon Naasir’s dream
      A panorama illustrating the portals between the worlds created by each of the participants… But who is dreaming, really?

      And an illustration of Chiara’s encounter with the glutton “dreggun” Buckberry

      #265

      After Sanso heard the voice “the reason you are looking for is right under your nose” he thought he had better go and have another look at that smelly, well was it smelly? hmmm perhaps not, just a bit mouldy, old cape. Just in case it was a clue and he had missed it.

      He was surprised and delighted to see Arona, who was still sitting quietly meditating.

      Oh, goodness, said Arona startled, Who are you?

      I am Sanso and some people call me a wretched outcast madman wanderer, and Sanso laughed heartily.

      Arona laughed too, out of politeness and a bit hesitantly, unsure if Sanso was joking or not. Well your words not mine she said

      Sanso laughed heartily again which Arona found a bit odd. My words indeed he said And who are you and what brings you to explore this cave?

      I am Arona, and this is Mandrake. I popped in to find the source of the beautiful music I could hear, but my overall mission is learning about magic.

      Sanso had stopped listening and was gazing at the round glass ball filled with the sand shapes.

      Good Lord! he gasped, Is that a sabulmantium ! And a very early model too. This is a classic! The later models are much more complex, this is very fundamental, but beautifully made.

      Oh really, well it is great fun

      Sanso explained to Arona at length the more technical details of how a sabulmantium worked, and how it could be used like a compass.

      Fascinating she said, and Mandrake rolled his eyes.

      #254
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Bill, the itinerant artist commissioned to paint portraits of the Wrick family, was uneasy. While he’d been staying in the castle with the eccentric family, he’d lost all track of linear time. It had been altogether too confusing, and his head was spinning. Manon the cook had sent a tray up to his room, with a pot of Earl grey tea, and a plate of Yorkshire parkin for his supper, when he’d claimed to be developing a mysterious ailment and begged leave to retire to his room.

        Bill splashed some malt whiskey into his cup of tea. A good long sleep was what he needed, and with a sigh he drained his cup and climbed into bed, pulling the heavy eiderdown up over his chin. He lay there for awhile staring into space, not really aware of his thoughts. An owl hooted from the oak tree outside his window. Twit whoohooo twit whoo hooooooo…

        Bill blinked and then frowned. On the top of the Queen Anne highboy facing the end of his bed was a large carved stone face. How odd, he thought, I don’t recall seeing that there before.

        #241
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          Fiona woke up smiling from her dream.

          She had been in a new house, scrubbing the wooden floorboards, rearranging furniture. There was a nice garden, very green. Anyway all these ducks flew into the garden, well ducklings really, because they were cute and yellow, like cartoon ducks.

          It had been drought conditions for so long that Fiona was concerned for them. So she filled a glass with water and threw it over them. She kept doing this, and the ducks were hopping happily around in the water. Then they all started clapping their wings together to thank her.

          Fiona had been having lots of duck imagery lately. A funny thought crossed her mind as she thought of Rose, a friend of Dory’s who was into birds. Well she was a friend of all of them, but Fiona associated her with Dory, because Dory was always saying “Rose said this… or Rose said that”…

          Quintin said ‘ducks and drakes’ was a game where you threw pebbles into the water or something. This cast a slight shadow over Fiona’s day thinking about it, because sadly her pebbles had still not arrived from Yann.

          Anyway when they did get there, no way would she be throwing them away into the water. Not after this long a wait.

          What was the time anyway? she wondered looking at her watch 1:11, cool time for some more housework.

          #237
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Magic is easy peasy
            My hand is sore
            This poem is rubbish
            So I won’t say any more

            Well we must thank the Gods for small mercies said Mandrake, sighing heavily. Arona laughed. Her mood felt so light again, as though something had really, really, REALLY fallen into place for her.

            Up ahead the tunnel widened. Arona gave a small gasp as she saw what appeared to be a coatstand with a black cape standing in the middle of the path.

            My Cloak, she cried, astonished, and feeling sure that the crafty dragon was behind its unexpected appearance. Hmmm, what a mouldy old thing, she thought, as though seeing it for the first time.

            There was a note pinned to the cape:

            I build up castles. I tear down mountains. I make some men blind, I help others to see. What am I?

            Arona hesitated only for a moment. Sand! She said, delighted with herself.

            #200
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Lord Wrick was reading a bedtime story to his great grandson, Cuthbert. A huge open fire roared beneath the stone mantelpiece, and cast tall flickering shadows in the dark corners of the room. Cuthbert snuggled in to his great grandad, who pulled the red tartan shawl up under his chin. The Orkney Islands were cold in September, and a chill draught was ever present in the ancient castle. Cuthbert’s twin sister India Louise had already been taken to bed by Nanny Gibbon, who would read her a story in the nursery.

              “Back from the depths of his sleep, the dragon Naasir exhaled in a puff of smoke” read Great grandfather Wrick. “He’d just woven a wonderful dream…”

              A parcel had arrived at the castle yesterday, delivered by a travelling artist, who had been invited to paint portraits of the Wrick family. There was no message with the parcel, and the artist, Bill Jobsworth, explained that an old woman in black had given it to him at the crossroads, asking him to deliver it to Cuthbert and India Louise Wrick.

              #148

              Oh bugger it, Illi thought… She was rather an impatient spotted gripshawk.

              ‘When in doubt, go somewhere else’ was her motto, indeed of her tribe. That was the trouble with her tribe, she grumbled, they’d all wandered off….

              She cast her eyes around wondering which way to go, and something caught her eye. It looked like a big soft blue-black rock, but on closer inspection turned out to be a heavy cape, sodden from the rain, and smelling unpleasantly of mold.

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