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Dear Anne Horny Smooch

The Snoot is FLOVE as thou all
The Snoot dreamt of its Back that was on its Frontside… It was moving freely and though in the usualness of the waking reality consciousness is commanded so to speak to rearrange itself into things… that are no more than the expression of different aspects of thyself.
Since the attention is not so absolutely focused in the Snoot area of consciousness the energy of FLOVE is flowing freely and it is not constricted.
Thus thou canst absorb the red fruit knowledge and know. Know that you are back and front at the same time and appreciate thyself inside out or outside in as is thy creature cat when she lick herself.

With Mych FLOVE and sn tches

The Cutie Snootie

Zhana was so happy that she started to sing .

That’s beautiful! exclaimed Sanso, Sing another one!

So Zhana sang some more.

Whoa! said Sanso. Weirdo singing!

Oh! Zhana looked crestfallen. Don’t you like it?

Hahaha, Oh yes, I love it! Please, sing some more.

Well…….oh, alright. And Zhana sang for Sanso…..and sang some more……

Where did you learn to sing like that? asked Sanso politely.

Oh, haha, Zhana laughed and blushed. Granny used to sing like that. Zhana sighed wistfully, remembering her grandmother. If only they hadn’t had to kill her when she got too old to be useful.

Sanso closed his eyes, feeling a song coming to his own lips from somewhere deep inside him.

Sanso suddenly felt sleepy after all the strange singing, and lay down on the mushroom speckled forrest floor and drifted into a strange dream of mice and birds and a topsy turvy world.

Zhana wasn’t really tired, after all, she had only just woken from her sleep when she met Sanso, but she lay down beside him and after awhile she drifted off. She had some strange dreams too.

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 though

And 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!!!

Hahaha so many comments on the morning when I wake up!!!
I had a few synchs this morning, the first was with a dream in which I was seeing the number 533 and I was laughing as it was a combination of 53 (me) and 33 (Elias)… and I realized people couldn’t understand it

Well this morning, when I opened my mails, I found 2 mails, one was posted at 5:33 !!!
And the second one was posted at 9:21… I thought of Francie and as I called her Finn yesterday when I YM’ed her, I was surprised by her last comment in which Finn was speaking…
And in the mail (the 9:21 one), the subject was : “The biggest dog”… and when I opened the attachment it was a powerpoint document speaking about the dog of Mr FLYNN, that was an English mastiff and was called Hercules, just grew bigger and bigger from his birth on…
Apparently this is a hoax , but I thought the synch was really fynn

There was a tantalizing scent of wildflowers and meadowgrass in the still cool air of the cave, and as Sanso rounded a bend in tunnel a gentle breeze ruffled the folds of his robes. He quickened his pace, gladdened by the welcome promise of an adventure outside of the endless labyrinth. The air felt cool and warm at the same time, and deliciously fresh and clean as it wafted towards him, and with a feeling of immense joy, he heard a snatch of birdsong.

It seemed like many long years that he’d been trudging around in the gloom and the stale air of the caves, although he suspected it wasn’t as long as that. Time played tricks on him, he knew that, while he was wandering around in the darkness. He’d missed Arona, and that strange baby, when he’d first set off alone again, but not for long. He knew when it was time to move on, and so he’d left them. From time to time he wondered if he’d encounter them again, and knew he would.

A shaft of sunlight spilled into the tunnel and Sanso stepped out into the light. The breeze was fluttering the birch leaves high above him, as he squinted up at the pale blue sky. Grinning happily, Sanso took his time adjusting to the light. He sat cross legged on the soft green grass, feeling it springy beneath his hands. Hundreds and thousands of red and yellow spotted toadstools stretched out as far as he could see, carpeting the forrest floor with polkadots of colour.

Sanso looked down at his hands. The creases of his skin and under his nails were engrained with reddish dust, and he wanted water more than anything, gurgling bubbling fresh clean water. He stood up, and shook his robes a bit, and set off into the woods.

Intuition told him which way to go to find water. He marvelled at tiny flowers, and scampering insects along the way, squashing fungi beneath his bare feet which oozed up through his toes with little squeaky noises.

A rabbit ran accross his path and stopped momentarily to stare at him and Sanso laughed out loud.

Oh! Who’s there?

A girl in bright flowered skirts was sitting on the grass in a clearing just ahead, rubbing her eyes.

Whoa, I must be dreaming, she said, and rubbed her eyes again. She peered at the apparition in indigo robes, with skin the colour of tobacco and wild matted hair. Am I dreaming? she asked Sanso.

Perhaps, perhaps not, replied Sanso, who wasn’t really sure. I may be dreaming myself. My name is Sanso, anyway, what’s yours?

Zhana, the girl replied, Well, Uncle Grishenka calls me Zhanochka, but I…but I….I hate him, and I’m not going back! And much to her surprise, she burst into tears.

Sanso was momentarily non-plussed, and wondered what to do next.

Well, dear, if you don’t want to go back, why, then don’t go back! He wasn’t quite sure what the problem was; after all, he’d been wandering for so many years on impulse and whim he hardly knew any other way to go about it.

I don’t know where to go instead though, Zhana said tearfully. The long dark cold will be here again soon, and I must have shelter somewhere…..who will have me, besides Uncle Grishenka?

What long dark cold? asked Sanso. It seemed light enough and warm enough here.

Oh, my! Zhana was astonished. You ask me what long dark cold? Where have you come from? How is it you don’t know of the long dark cold? Oh! Are you from Nishanti’s place?

Zhana stood up in some considerable excitement. Can you take me to Nishanti’s place? Oh please say yes!

Well, I, er, um…..well, I suppose so. Well, yes! Sanso didn’t want to let the girl down, although he wasn’t altogether sure he knew where Nishanti’s place was. But he was game to give it a try, and the company of the girl would be a welcome change.

Tell me about Nishanti, then, Zhana, and what her place is like. Sanso was hoping a few clues might ring a bell, perhaps.

Nishanti has been my friend for as long as I can remember, Zhana said. We dream together mostly, well, Zhana blushed, Uncle Grishenka says it’s all in my head…he say’s it’s nonsense….

Zhana squared her shoulders and carried on. Sanso had a kind look, and nodded encouragingly.

She hardly wears any clothes, and her skin is warm and brown. The sun always shines and the sky is always deep blue in her place and we play outside all year long. There’s always warm ripe fruits to eat, not turnips and noodles, colourful juicy berries and plump pink fishy things, and there are flowers all year long, and the water isn’t frozen, we can play in the water and it doesn’t turn our hands blue…..

Ah, the other side of the world…hhhmmm…..Sanso rubbed his whiskery chin thoughtfully.

Ok, I can’t promise we can find Nishanti, but I think we can find the other side of the world. But first, I’d like to find some water, and perhaps a little fresh food?

Zhana whooped with delight, and flung her arms around Sanso. Yes, yes!

In addition to Francie’s comment about Pashi and Pasha, I found out that in English, Pascha (Πάσχα) is also one of the names of Easter (like in Paschal lamb), in sync with Tracy’s comment with Lupercalia’s sacrifice of goats today…
Apparently, in Greek, πασχαλιά (paskalia) is “a more downy flower” as it means “lilac” or “syringa”…
Would Pashi’s essence color be lilac?

Some interesting development came today, as I was brooding a new comment about the twins and their books, and other sorts of interactions surrounding this.
I found out a new movie, based on a series of children books: Spiderwick, which features twins, an old book, and strange creatures.
Of course, there is the old mansion (in New-England, US), and the name is reminiscent of Wrick too. Not to mention the “spider” which is linked for me not only to the spiders on the island(s), but more so to Francie’s last discussions and post on her multiply blog which I happened to have found only yesterday, though I remember Francie mentioning it at the time.

The creators of these books are a writer (Holly Black) and an illustrator (Tony DiTerlizzi), so this is also a collaborative work, and probably a hint for success
By the way, with all these “holy” jokes recently, “Holly Black” seems like more than just a nice perspective

The website of the movie is also quite interesting to navigate inside, very well done…

Georges and Salome’s journal

From Georges’ account of his first encounter with Shu Lom Agamon. Part III

We were now at the center of the structure formed by these twelve gates.

The energy currents of the different families involved in this exchange were almost palpable. I could allow my attention in whatever direction I wanted, and I was aware of different essences of the nine families of our dimension of origin. Salome was here with me, but not as objectively involved as I was, yet. She was supportive of this even as were the other essences. And I could feel other family structures involved in other dimensions. We were at the center of a multidimensional portal between all the dimensions, and I was focusing my main attention to the twelve gates of Alienor. I was aware of our different threads of attention in this area of consciousness, the one in which I was drawing to myself informations about the Alienor dimension, and the one in which Shu-Lom was drawing informations about our own dimension.

I was perceiving the gates in a certain order that was relevant in one particular exploration. The structure was directly springing from myself and I could feel that the structure that would be perceived by Shu-Lom would be quite different and individualized. The structure I was aware of in a particular dream was facilitating of certain informations, and even though there was a particular arrangement of the families in the Alienor dimension, between the dreams, and depending on where my attention was focused, the gates were reorganizing themselves.

Most of the time, I had the Almadar energy “behind” me, and the Meshran vibration before me. It was connected to my particular intent in the exploration of that dimension as a focus, and as essence.

Shu-Lom was more aligned with the Taa’Maroo and the Ulemjel families, the Holders and the Keepers. He explained to me that it was connected also to him being one of what I could only translate as “Guardians”. Those Guardians were strongly connected to the Taa’Maroo intent…

[the rest of the account is yet to be decrypted]

Zhanochka ran until she could run no more, and then she collapsed into a heap on the ground. Birch trees shimmered against the watery blue sky abover her head and before long her eyes had fluttered and closed.

Moments later she smiled. Nishanti, she whispered. You’re here.

Zhanochka slept soundly where she had slipped to the ground, sprawled on the tussocky grass beneath the trees, her sleeves still pushed up over her elbows and a smile on her lips.

He was climbing the steep path to the spring. His attention moving swiftly from one location to another, generating his human flesh body consciousness at each moment. At times he was not generating such a continuous movement and could appear in another place without having physically generated the objective appearance of the movement.

He had no name, he had no necessity for it himself. One of his other focuses was aware of him as John, the Straw Man. That would be the intersection of their focuses. He smiled back at him as he was aware of their connection in that moment. Continuing his exploration of the surrounding, before generating the physical spring, he was also communicating with other focuses or other aspects of consciousness. He was also exploring the shift of attention in different mergences with different qualities of essences. Being dispersed he was part of these other essences also, though it is a rough translation of it.

The movement of the path under his feet was smooth. The quality incorporated in the ground was facilitating his progression to the spring. It was not yet in his main focuses of attention, though it was close, some of his alternate aspects were already there and enjoying the premises and the non physical aspects of its reality. He added some mushrooms aspects in his surrounding as they were conveyed by his John aspect… they were connected to another of his friend. Oh! and a few ostrich eggs suddenly appeared

Yellorange green current of a snoot was swirling around some trees. The John aspect of himself was amazed at the beauty he was generating, and as he was felling Pashi moving her attention toward him in a softurplime mergence, this new aspect of consciousness manifested the spring. The ears of this focus were experiencing the different layers of its movement.

It was a perfect year for mushrooms in the mossy green fields of the Upper Ubzich regions, and gaily coloured clumps of them glistened in the morning dew. The weak sun felt deliciously warm to Zhanochka, after the interminable months of frost and ice. She pushed her sleeves up past her elbows, exposing the milk white flesh that she (or anyone else for that matter) rarely saw, clutched her grimy skirts up above the oozing mud, and ran across the field for no reason at all, other than it felt good to run.

Zhanochka kept running. And running……something strange happened to Zhanochka that day, the day she ran and ran…..

It was, in retrospect, as if she had run from one world, into another one, a completely different world, and she was glad.

Dory was bored. She didn’t really know whether to be Dory, or Becky, or even Illi today. Maybe I will be someone new, she thought. Hmmm……

Elvira, how about that. Well, Elvira was just as bored as Elvira as she would have been as Dory, Becky or anyone else for that matter. What happens when the inspiration goes? Where does it go? One minute the world is full of interesting things, and then Poof! nothing is very interesting at all……

Elvira had lots of interesting things to do, she had many books, and various artistic projects half started or not even started, just thought about on and off for ages, and she had puppies to play with, and a big drawer full of pens and things to draw with. She had a camera that took little videos that was often a lot of fun…but nothing seemed worth the trouble today, nothing at all…..not even that silly wacom thing, and after all that fuss to buy it, too…it was more fun talking about buying it then the darn thing ever was afterwards…..

The Internet, how could anyone be bored with an internet! There must be something seriously wrong with her to be bored when she had Internet! But she halfheartedly googled this, googled that…ho hum, tedium, nothing very interesting there….

Well, what about your imagination then! Elvira sat up a bit straighter, challenging herself. You can surely do something interesting in your imagination, can’t you?

She slumped back down again, and sighed. Like what? Well, imagine you are out in the sun, going for a walk…..

Well ok, then, I am on the beach. At first I feel the sun on the top of my head and I squint at the bright sparkles on the sea. Then, my ears are ringing with cold, it’s a windy cold day after all and not much fun on the beach at all. Oh pull yourself together, woman! Pull your scarf round your ears! It’s a great day for driftwood, just look at those waves rolling in.

I am trudging along, and the sand is hard to walk on and makes my legs ache. My God, I am out of shape! There are soggy oranges and piles of bamboo sticks, and plastic bottles all washed up in curving heaps. A soggy Marlboro carton; my, are they still smuggling fags from Gibraltar, I am so out of the smuggling loop these days….

Well, was that it? Elvira chastised herself. Not much of a flight of imagination there, was it? Maybe a walk along the river instead…..

Oh alright, if I have to…..actually I can’t be bothered to do this imaginary walk either, it’s no use….nothing is really very interesting today. I would like someone to amuse me, charmingly, pointlessly, something funny and light, and delightfully meaningless and simple…..

And god forbid, nothing to do with beliefs, please! Or any of that weird stuff, like other lives and other dimensions, and talking to aliens and all that weirdo stuff….weirdo, weirdo, stuff! UGGHHH Elvira shuddered.

Well, one thing I am pleased about, she mused almost happily, I can smoke again now my lungs are behaving. I thought I would be gloriously happy forever if I could only breathe without fear, and already I am Ho Hum about breathing….thought for sure I’d remember to focus on every brilliantly wonderful NOW moment, I did, after that fright with the lungs, but no….back to normal, well, worse than normal really, because now I am not even interested in anything……

I wonder if I should start drinking again…..Oh don’t be silly, Elvira told herself rather sharply. Well, drugs then, maybe that would buck me up. It’d buck you up alright, but for how long? Well when they wore off, I could take some more.

Yeah, right…..

Elvira sighed again. Even Bertie Wooster hadn’t even managed to raise a smile this time, and he always used to make her smile. Reading Wodehouse now made her frown, wondering what ever she had used to find so amusing……

The birds are making a racket out there, she noticed. Whatever do they find to sing about all day? Chirp chirp…jeeze….. maybe I should take up golf, she wondered. Dan seems to always have an interest, something passionately all-consuming……he never has enough hours in the day for all HIS interesting things….

Where have all my interesting things GONE?

hahaha Good Lord Franci, that’s one serious dancing snow owl there! It’s almost scarey! Dance…or else!

I just had a funny sync… usually I don’t go look at the tag cloud, and after reading your comment, Francie I just felt the desire to do so here’s what I got

perhaps lost raven making sync busy franiel feeling dream

I thought it was quite appropriate

that’s wonderful Francie