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In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
When he first witnessed how the traveling portals worked, Badul had been greatly impressed. No such magic existed on Asgurdy, and even though is was supposed to be a small portal, it was greater magic than anything his imagination could have devised.
He and his crew were so much impressed that Badul had required his small crew to settle down so that they can study further the thing. Tomkin had frowned a bit, as he was eager to continue and above all to leave this uncharted district ruled by a fierce warlord (or “governor”, as it was required to address him) in a moistly forest miles away from any living creature, but then again, Badul’s orders were not to be discussed.The portal was constituted of a wide circle of heavy limestones, with two crossing arched vaults made of limestones too, with smaller blue stones incrustations of various shapes tucked into round holes regularly scattered along the vaults. These smaller stones could apparently be rearranged, and Tomkin and Badul quickly figured out they were used to determine the coordinates of the various places they would be traveling to. This portal, they’ve been explained had a set of other stones, ocher and dark red ones which were not part of the traditional set of the main network on the continent. Their design was not overly displayed as the others which were left on the portal at all times. They were carried on the spot by one of the generals of the local governor, and used under strict guidelines, for fear that the parallel network would be uncovered.
It took Badul a dozen of hexades to relinquish his fear of the unknown magic that made people disappear and reappear in thin air. He was a brave man, and that which he could see with his own eyes was no longer deemed irrational. It was very real, and he could use it. And there was no point in delaying the experience of it, as it was the only way for him to conquer his turmoil.
So, on that fine morning of the falling season, he decided to move. Genflik Thran, the local governor, had come to appreciate the help Badul and his men had provided him in loading and unloading the cargoes of goods which were banned on various parts of the Warring Kingdoms nonetheless traded on the black market with great benefits, and occasionally escorting them to some of the nearest villages. But the deal had been made clear from the start: he would allow Badul and his men to use the network in exchange of two hexades of service. In fact, they had repaid the debt largely already.
So he agreed to let them go on their journey and provided him and and his crew enough supply to continue their trip for quite some days. And as a token of appreciation, he allowed Badul to choose his destination, a privilege that was rarely granted, as usually people where glad to take whatever ship was about to depart.Badul turned to Tomkin, wondering where they could go next.
“There are a few villages I heard of” Tomkin said after having pondered, “in the valleys down Mount Elok’ram. I heard this place is the tallest of the World, and is full of ancient powerful magic. Perhaps we can go to one of these villages, as I don’t think there is any portal on the top of the mountains.”
“Ahaha, yes, you’re right” had smiled Genflik Thran “I’ve been heard there is a monastery on top of this mountain, but no portal unless you go in the valleys. Not that they couldn’t have built one, but they thought it would soon become too crowded and… how did they said? Yeah, unholy… with the ease of a portal access. Now, perhaps that with the new Abbott, it will change… who knows. We already have approached him, and he seems a man with a nice sense of compromise, for the good of all, ahahaha!”
“What’s this village called?”, asked Badul
“ Chard Dut Jep “ answered Genflik Thran “I have a local contact there, a witchy woman, with some sense for business too, when you’re there, ask for her, people call her Madame Chesterhope. Just don’t forget to mention you are coming on my advise, or else the bitch might reserve you a trick or two of her own, ahahaha!”.
“To Chard Dut Jep then!” cheered Badul, and his crew echoed with him.In reply to: Synchronicity
DANGEROUS ROADS SYNCH:
On the news last night was a story of a man who had driven off the road and over the cliff on one of the South Island Roads. He was trapped for 16 hours, however the story had a happy ending because his elderly mother had intuited something was amiss and had gone out looking for him. She saw the tyre marks where his car had skidded off the road. One of the reports I read said that he was 57 km from home at the time.NUMBERS:
I have had three bookings recently for $555. The last one paid by credit card and I got sent an email notification. It told me that the egate fees were $22.20 and that $532.30 had been deposited into my bank account.In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Beattie! called Leonora, who had just returned from an early morning walk. She had an envelope in her hand and was looking at it with a distinctly puzzled expression.
Where did you get that? asked Bea. They had no mailbox, as there were no postmen to deliver to all the outlying cottages and smallholdings; they picked snail mail up from the post office in the village.
Post Office isn’t open yet, where did that letter come from? Let’s have a look, Bea said, reaching her hand out. No stamp! It must have been delivered by hand.
No stamp, Bea, but there’s a postmark! How did it ever get past the postmen with no stamp on it?
This doesn’t make sense. It wasn’t delivered by the postman. Where did you find it, anyway?
On the wall along the side of the lane… it was held down with a rock. The rock was a bit funny an’ all, said Leo, Now that I think of it. Didn’t look like any of the rocks round here, it had funny white markings on it.
Bea was rummaging around in her bag for her glasses. She found them and squinted through the fingerprints on the lenses. Glass Hour, she read, 2163. Can’t be the date, 2163… wait! It says Nov 1st 2163!
That’s ridiculous, Bea, lemme see it again. Leo frowned. I’m gonna google this here Glass Hour 2163.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
I am here to offer you my services in exchange for board and lodging Madame Chesterhope, said Franiel, deciding to tactfully ignore for now her rather odd remark regarding his reality.
Oh please, call me Phoebe. Phoebe smiled kindly at Franiel. Have you come a long way? Well really, I forget my manners. Sit down and I will prepare you a drink and some food. Then you can tell me your story and what has bought you here.
And so it was that just a short while later Franiel found himself ensconsed on the settee sipping hot mulled wine from a huge mug. What strange twists and turns life may take, he mused.
And whether it was the wine that loosened his tongue, or the kindly look in Phoebe’s eyes and the attentive way in which she nodded her old head so wisely, but he found himself telling her the most surprising things, as though she were an old friend he had known and trusted all his life.
Thus it was that it had soon been agreed that Franiel’s proposal would be a mutually beneficial arrangement.
It is as though you are an angel, laughed Phoebe, sent by God to help me, for it was weighing heavily upon me that there is much that needs doing. Dear Lydia who you met on the path, well what would I do without her, but she is not getting any younger, and Derwent …. her voice trailed off.
Well you are the second person to call me an angel, for I met Derwent earlier who also mistook me for an angel, but I am afraid I must disappoint you both, for I am a very ordinary mortal.
Oh I am not the slightest bit disappointed, smiled Phoebe. Here, she said, delving into the top drawer of a huge oak dresser, take these keys. I keep most of the rooms locked, for the place is so big and there is no need for all those rooms. Feel free to have a look around as you will. You will find your room prepared for you on the second floor, third room on the right.
Franiel was surprised and it must have showed on his face.
It is the room I keep ready for visitors. She chuckled. Most of the visitors I have here have no need of a place to sleep mind-you.
These are the others you spoke of earlier? asked Franiel,curious. At that moment though Phoebe’s attention was distracted. She looked towards the window, which was wide open though there was a chill in the late afternoon air.
Ah! there you are my lovely one! she cried, her face lighting up in delight as a large and colorful parrot flew in the window and landed on her shoulder.
The bird squawked and cast a steely gaze on Franiel.
Of course I will introduce you, said Phoebe calmly, Franiel, meet Vincentius.
In reply to: Synchronicity
Last night the guests asked where Lucknow Crescent was as they had friends to visit. I had heard of it, but being really bad with directions just gave them a map.
Today, walking home from the supermarket I started thinking about synchs. At that moment some workmen in a truck pulled up and asked me if I knew where Lucknow Crescent was.
Thinking about this synch … a couple of things struck me … the name is interesting and also that I did not know where it was.
(just as i wrote that i noticed a monarch butterfly out of the corner of my eye fly in front of the window, the association here for me is a quote from Abraham I like about the meaning of butterfly signs .. or synchs )
As a sort of symbolic thing, i am going to find out were Lucknow Crescent is. As soon as I went to look it up i suddenly remembered where it was.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Pondering the significance of his dream , Franiel set out again. It was the third morning since he had woken to find the chalice missing, and he was no closer to knowing where he was going. Yet he had taken the advice of the BBL and felt all the better for it in his spirit.
Morning! Franiel called a greeting to an old woman who was passing by, delighted to see signs of life, and wondering if it meant he was near a Village. Might I ask where you are taking that basket of eggs?
A good morning to you young man. Certainly you may ask, I am taking these into the Village Market to sell.
And where might that be, it is not the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon by any strange chance? asked Franiel, thinking nothing would surprise him anymore.
The old woman looked at him in astonishment. The Village of Chard Dam Jarfon! You surely have a very long journey before you if you are heading for the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon. No indeed, I am going to the Village of Chard Dut Jep, an hour or so from here.
Franiel considered this for a moment. And if I keep heading the way I am going, and from whence you have started, where might I be going?
The old woman hesitated and looked at Franiel with an odd expression in her dark eyes.
I am not sure if you want to do that, for this is a very long and lonely way you are heading. Unless you are going to the old Chesterhope mansion, and there’s not many who would do be doing that anymore.
How very interesting, said Franiel, rather intrigued. Is that where you have come from Old Woman?
The old woman gazed searchingly at Franiel for a moment before answering.
Aye it is, I work for Madame Chesterhope. I am the only one left now and it has been like that for many a long year, save for old Derwent of course, him who minds the gardens, but he’s not right in the mind that one and Madame keeps him on out of the kindness of her heart, said the Old Woman, and Franiel sensed some deep sadness in her voice, but in the next breath it was gone and he wondered if it was a trick of his mind.
Why don’t you come to the Village with me? she asked. Are you looking for work? There’s plenty would take on a fine young man such as yourself.
Would your Madame Chesterhope be looking for someone such as myself by any chance? asked Franiel, For I have nowhere in particular I am headed, and I am in need of some way of keeping myself. And as he spoke the words out loud he found himself wondering at them, yet he felt such an odd sense of anticipation inside himself, as though perhaps there was some new adventure to be had after all.
Again the old woman looked at Franiel appraisingly for a long time. Eventually she spoke.
When you get to the crossways turn left and keep heading that way for 2 miles till you see the Chesterhope sign. It’s an up and down path for a ways to get to the mansion from there. When you get there, it would be best to keep in mind all is not as it might seem. I will say no more and bid you farewell, for I have still got a ways to go.
Perhaps I will see you later then! Franiel called after her.
She turned and looked back at him. Perhaps.
In reply to: Synchronicity
just remembered another one I meant to tell you. I bought a Brita water filter from the supermarket recently, it was quite spontaneous as I just noticed they had one sitting by itself on the shelf. I think this is a synch with one of Eric’s photos. Also the month counter at the top was set to 11 of the 11th or 11 11
(this is comment 222 btw)
At the aquarium the other day I was really drawn to these cool, luscious, yellow fish, partly because they seemed to be staring at me …
then i saw that they were named lemon (something, can’t remember the other word- maybe lemon) 
fish and cost $57. (it was 57 dollars and something cents, but i can’t remember the cents, so that is a synch with not remembering the rest of the fish name 
)
Also this gives me an opportunity to use the new fish and lemon icons .
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Margaret reckoned she’d made a wise choice deciding (with agreement of course) to ‘observe’ Becky. Her role as lifetime observing essence was proving to be rather amusing. What great fun it was to be married to the same man twice. At least remarked Margaret’s essence, whose vibrational tone translated as the name Yipper.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Bea! Come and look at this! Blimey O’RILEY, I ‘ave NEVER seen anything like this is me life!
What’s up, Leo? Bea rushed over, rather unsteadily, slopping some gin down her clothes from the ever present glass clutched in her hand. Bloody ‘ell, Leo, what’re you doing looking at them crystal skulls again?
It’s not the bloody skulls Bea, it’s all these rhino beetles ! There’s a blimmen HERD of them in this trunk! All over the skulls!
Yeuch! exclaimed Beatrice, who was not particularly fond of insects. Better get the fly spray, hang on, I’ll fetch it.
YOU CAN’T DO THAT! shreiked Leo. They’re symbolic!
Symbolic of bloody WHAT?
Well, I ‘int worked it out yet, ‘ave I? But you mark my words, they’re symbolic!
Bea rolled her eyes, remembering the ‘symbolic ants’ she’d been obliged to endure all over the kitchen. Leo was losing touch with reality, Bea reckoned.
Symbolic they may very well be, however, I am NOT having them in my bed, she said firmly. What are we going to do?
Google it? suggested Leonora.
Good idea. I’ll google it; now you make sure those bloody things stay in the trunk, eh. If any of them escape and head for the beds, call me!
In reply to: Synchronicity
“I lay on a couch in my normal clothes and a nurse put some anaesthetic drops in my eyes. Dr Allamby then put a retainer on one eye to hold the lids wide open. He used a microscope while he asked me to look into a blue light. First, he made marks with ink on my cornea. Then he used a hand-held device to send radio waves into my cornea, making eight tiny dots in a ring around the edge, near the white of my eye. This changes the shape of the cornea, making it more curved, which increases the focus power of the eye and so helps to improve vision.
It didn’t hurt at all. It took about five minutes to do one eye. Then he did the same thing with my other eye, though this time he put two circles of eight dots around my cornea. This was to sharpen my reading vision”In reply to: Synchronicity
Not sure if this link will work to Oba’s song lyrics, but the bones of the sync are this:
“We’re goin’ out tonight bejeweled and adorned
A Horus Line’s performing at the Gates Of Horn
Mummies get boners and their wrappings unfurl
At the sight of my Memphis girlShe is so extraordinary
Strolling through the mortuary
The Necropolis aint half that scary
OOOOH! Memphis girl…”
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
— Arona, my dear?
The silky voice of Malvina resounded in Arona’s ear, while she was meditating on the implications of the story Vincentius had told her.
— Yes?
— May I borrow you Buckberry and your sabulmantium for a few moments?
— Oh sure, no need to ask… Though I don’t think you require my permission for Buckberry, isn’t he free as I am?
— Oh yes he is, exactly as you said, free as you areArona could have sworn she felt a winking energy rippling through her flesh, making some unfamiliar electrical currents crawl underneath her skin. She would have said she was thoroughly disliking it, though she wasn’t really sure if she was.
— Oh, Malvina added as if an innocent afterthought, we are moving by the way, perhaps you may find interesting to join us for the homationing ceremony. You may learn some more about your sabulmantium.
— Well, why not, answered Arona having no idea of what a homationing ceremony could be…
— Very well, please join us in the main entrance, where I am playing the harp. We will be waiting for you.
— I’ll be there in a second.So, they were moving? Speak about implications… Arona muttered, stroking dozing Mandrake, who had feasted on too many of the moorats crawling inside the moisteous cave tunnels.
I guess I’ll take this astounding elan as a hint that I’ll be going alone she said. A yawn for all answer.
Considering it was Mandrake, that was almost a mark of distinctive affection… or was it rather of affectionate distinction?Moving? She didn’t want to move, not yet, not like that… And to be honest, with all the stuff in that cave, she sure didn’t want to help pack all of this, be it by magic. What an impossible task.
Vincentius the nanny was taking care of Yikes, so she was confident should anything happen, he would be alright.
On the outside of the cave, the dragons were all lined up, as if waiting for some unknown signal. Leormn first in shades of teal, and his spawns, Buckberry, with the most florid and baroque hues of purple that one could imagine, and the two facetious Heckle and Jeckle in shades of emerald, looking unusually calm.
Malvina, with Leo the little marmoset on her left shoulder, was playing her harp, while Irtak was accompanying her playing a mouth harp.
Some drums had been disposed around, and quite naturally, Arona felt like beating the measure on these, getting slowly and slowly relaxed by the music and guttural sounds produced by the throat singing dragons.
She almost laughed and broke the meditating pattern when she let the memory of Sanso come into her awareness. What a shame he’d missed that, that would have fitted him better than her.Slowly the sounds stopped, and Malvina very gracefully rose from her stool, and greeted Arona with a loving hug. Her flowing robe was a tender orchid hue with laces of thistle pink, and her silvery peach long flowing hair were giving her the aura of a princess.
— Wait, where are Georges and Salome? She said, are they already gone?
— No, they are waiting for us at the new location, she said with a smile… Now, Leormn will start the ceremony.Arona almost said Wait again, in anticipation of what was to come, and finally decided to let it flow. The serene look of Malvina and her motherly smile was of a nurturing reassurance.
Outside, in the grassy lands, the dragons had all grown wings and were apparently ready to take off. A pile of conic shaped dirty sand was standing in front of the entrance, that Arona had never seen before.
She could feel Buckberry answer her unspoken question without even a word being uttered. It is soil from the cave, and we will use it now.
Arona watched the dragons rise in the sky full of damp gray clouds, and wondered what they were doing.
They are doing two things, Arona answered Malvina (again that disagreeable habit of reading thoughts, couldn’t help but think Arona, wishing there would be some World around where such thing wouldn’t be so easy), first they are checking what kind of creature are staying with us and following the movement, continued Malvina, ignoring the remark, and second, they are drawing with that sand from the cave a circle to enclose the area we want to moveArona didn’t dare say the explanations were making her even fuzzier, so she nodded as if abreast of what was going on.
Popping sounds of the dragons blinking in and out to get some more dirt almost made her dizzy, and she forgot the strangest feeling she had when she thought she heard “the area we want to move”.
— Now, continued Mavina, the sabulmantium.
The dragons were now all back, and the pile of sand had disappeared.
Arona’s attention snapped back to herself, and she handed the fine object to the lady. She couldn’t help but notice the glowing eyes of Irtak, who apparently was very eager to see what would happen.
So he will move too, she thought, hope his father won’t be too sad… Why did she felt it was a separation from this place she had found she was liking…— If you look closely, said Malvina to no one in particular, but Arona took it for herself, you will see how easy it is to come back if you feel so inclined.
At her touch, the coloured sands in the sabulmantium’s transparent dragon shell globe started to move. And all could see the cave being formed, with all the little people, dragons, glukenitches and even Leo and Mandrake… They were all here, enclosed into a circle of sand.
— Now, if you will follow me… said Malvina who traced on the ground a curvy symbol.
And very slowly, as the whole sand scenery inside the sabulmantium was turning in a round, they all felt as though they were dissolving into the air. Yet, they were all solid, and the interior of the cave was still too.
The only thing that was moving was the exterior, twirling and changing, getting out of focus, and moving erratically at the beginning, and then getting close to a focal point. Some fine tuning was occurring.And in a snap,
The landscape
Was
In all its splendor…— Greetings! a smiling couple at the entrance of the cave said to the people inside.
In reply to: Synchronicity
In reply to: Synchronicity
Oxshift
ahem, well for my latest synchs:
I followed numberplate J533 into town this morning.
Lemon synchs please see my previous comment well … i finally threw out the last of these lemons I had stored in my fridge yesterday, and thought fondly of the whole lemon synch thing. Then I noticed today that Tracy had posted the lemon tree song again in her ramblings thread. A short time later I picked up the local hawkes bay newspaper in order to peruse it, and saw that the whole front page was a picture of Noel Lucas (we don’t know him, I just include his name for accuracy) and a big heading A ZEST FOR THE BEST. Noel was holding up a lemon, which looked to be about as big as his head. It weighed 756gms.
Apparently on Jan 12th there was a story of a 600gm lemon (unfortunately I missed this story .. as you can see our local newspaper is full of riveting news …) and now a lemon war has started as lemon growers vie for the biggest lemon.
Noel has never fertilized his lemons and attributes it to climate changes. He has lived in the same house same house since 1983 and this is the biggest crop ever.
Director of the Lemon marketing board believes the bumper crop is due to an “evolutionary leap.” hahahaha
I think this is also a Nadia synch, biggest baby, biggest lemon… oh and also Hercules the biggest dog.
In reply to: Synchronicity
I was speaking about syncs with agent Flove…
eschraiel: did you see the sync with the dog?
franci_free: am just reading your synch
eschraiel: haha
franci_free: i was thinking i had noticed dogs a bit yesterday
eschraiel: wow interesting
franci_free: firstly a little poodle outside the supermarket, we sat next to it for a while and petted it
franci_free: i would not usually do that
eschraiel: hehehe what’s apoodle?
franci_free: and someone showed me a photo of a HUGE dog they had taken
franci_free: hang on
franci_free: http://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/littlebritain/images/gallery/poodle.jpg
eschraiel: hahaha I got that
http://www.cloggie.org/pictures/proggold/web_Alpaca%20Poodle.JPG
eschraiel: it’s like a lama
franci_free: oh wow
eschraiel: yours is cuter
franci_free: well that is a llama synch too then
eschraiel: really?
franci_free: because yesterday i thought “my goodness what a lot of llamas i am hearing about” and ther is one across the road too
franci_free: with the circus
eschraiel: http://www.cloggie.org/proggold/2007/12/07/note-to-googlers-its-not-a-bloody-poodle/
eschraiel: again a hoax apparently
franci_free: ahahahaha
eschraiel: I’m having a lot of hoax
eschraiel: is that a clue?
eschraiel: it’s fun hoax thoughAnd so we decided to create a detective agency specialized in hoacsynchs… agent Flove and me as the Snoot
Well Eric just told me that hoax is an ox so we can find a bluebull clue
We are specialized in blueOx!!!In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Well, now there’s an idea, Elvira said, closing the book she’d been reading. Hhmmm….
Boris, how about a trip back home to see the folks?
Boris looked up in astonishment. Home? see the folks? What for? Elvira had said right from the start, Don’t ever expect me to go to Siberia! And Boris had never pushed the matter; after all, he was in no hurry to return there either. In the 3 years they’d been together, the subject had never come up.
Listen to this, Boris. Elvira picked up the book and started reading.
“….in May, Kerouac had written to Timothy Leary requesting some ‘SM’ or Siberian mushrooms, after Ginsberg told him that they would enable Jack to complete a chapter each day…”
Boris, we can make a fortune! We can stay with your folks. Mushroom season starts soon, we’ll stay for the season, dry them or whatever you have to do, pack them into dolls or something, and have them shipped back here.
Well I don’t know, Elvira….I like it here.
Oh pooh, Boris, we’ve been in London for almost a year, and I’m bored. It’ll only be for a few months, and then think of all that money! How many of our friends have writers block? All of them! The market is there, Boris! We’ll have writers beating a path to our door for SM’s…..
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
I must be talking to an angel Yurick thought, as he was feeling the presence of the lady he had seen in his dreams a few times before. Her presence was remarkably soft, yet, she was unmistakably here, like a loving sisterly figure. Yurick could see at times streaks of a shimmering blue-green halo when he was thinking of her, and this morning, walking in the underground corridors, as he was humming and thinking of this angel, his gaze landed on a movie poster, with beautiful women profiles. None of these profiles had attracted his gaze at first, but a name. Salomé.
Then only, the poster slowly began to unfold itself into focus around that name…
The women were beautiful and seemed to be like beams of a multitude of variations from a single energy essence, like some traditional Avalokiteshvara (Kuan Yin) representations.
The title of that movie was “Les Femmes de l’Ombre” (Women of the Shadow), and that “Salomé” he had seen was the name of the director… How interesting symbolic information…While she reminded him not of the Salomé of Wilde’s play, but of another biblical figure, the Salomé of the New Testament, follower of the Christ, and likely sister of Mary, Yurick decided he would call that gentle feminine presence “Salomé”…
A woman of the Shadow. For now…In reply to: Synchronicity
Shasta was mentioned…Jib dreamed that I asked Eric to go to Mt Shasta, and I remarked that the last time I spoke to Raven was about Shasta…..I am delighted about Raven getting the joke and I never really minded about the doily……
In reply to: Synchronicity
“Is this a synch or did Tracy already know about the 888th mark having been hit? “ asked Franci.
Tracy was astonished at this latest synchronicity. “I had absolutely no idea” she replied.In reply to: Synchronicity
Bubbles, skull, 3d software and other miscellaneous type synchs …
When I left for my walk yesterday, Eric said to me “happy bubbling”, as I left cafe I picked up newspaper off the rack and there was a big photo of a little girl blowing bubbles on the front page. It was a lovely photo, one which had won a photo competition, the child looked very happy. I was wondering what bubbles meant to me, did not think of the 8 thing, but that is a good point.
Yesterday I had a hair appointment. As I left the house my atttention was caught by a picture which came up on my computer of a skull Dusky Moana (children’s story about a photographer, treasure etc) Later I saw that Eric had started writing about the crystal skull again in the story. Eric’s comment
As I leafed through a magazine at the hairdressers I was interested in a story about an artist who does his work using 3d software, (I don’t know much about it computer 3d stuff, so was interested to see Jib had been playing with 3d software yesterday. ahahah also George and I are obsessed with flies at the moment, is this a synch? I would love to see the image you did Jib!). It caught my attention because of another image of a girl blowing bubbles. Also because the artist started off saying:
I was born in London, England on October 26 1958, the youngest of four and much to my parent’s surprise, I was born a dog.
which I found very funny really, in fact I found his whole Bio very amusing. (ahaha also very amusing none of our numbers in his birthdate, that makes an intriguing change )In the interview it talked about how he worked as a photographer in a children’s ward for a number of years, and this greatly influenced his work, endowing his subjects with surreal otherwordly qualities to help them cope with life. Quite a few of them have sort of insect type appendages.
also, just on the off chance anyone interested Ray Caesar’s Bio
The other image which caught my eye in the magazine was this one of the world’s most valuable skull, made of diamonds: The Diamond Skull (Interesting I was getting the skull imagery I thought, because I have not really been able to quite follow the whereabouts of this skull in the story, it has perplexed and bemused me a bit.)
Sorry to mess up the order of your next comment Eric. I often whisper my comments to myself when I don’t finish writing them in one go, and I was not expecting anyone else to be up writing. But I think that is a tremendous synch, particularly in relation to Tracy’s comment about the 888th comment and a huggy is a nice one for it to be. Tracy’s comment mentioning the 888th comment (Is this a synch or did Tracy already know about the 888th mark having been hit? oh who cares, lovely synch, that was evil twin popped in for a minute)
I had a Sam synch, well this is getting long. But anyway I was thinking about spiders as I left the supermarket (long story as to why I was thinking about spiders), Anyway Jib and I had talked about spiders in the story earlier, and as I looked up I saw the car plate coming towards me was X SAM X ….. (what does this mean? is it sam surrounded by X’s? or kisses from Sam ? hahah well I think I will go with that one )
