Search Results for 'recall'

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  • #4039
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Hilda woke up rubbing her jaw, recalling the odd dream about pulling a splinter of bone out of a hole in her mouth where a molar should have been. There had been a sharp point sticking out of her gum, and she pulled ~ and pulled ~ and the bone shard that appeared in her hand seemed much too big to have come out of her mouth. What does that symbolize, she wondered? She was sure miss bossy behind the scenes pants would have something wittily disparaging to say about the imagery. But then an idea struck her: perhaps it was part of the Polar Molar story that she was connecting to.

      Hilda had been wanting to join the new Dream Investigation course for reporters, but felt the need to practice first before joining the class. There wasn’t much point in attending with no dream recall at all. Not much point in joining with just the bare bones, so to speak, of a rudimentary isolated snippet of recall either. Perhaps she’d go back to sleep and try to fill in some gaps. If she was late to the office, she could say she’d been following an unexpected lead on the story.

      #4014

      That cackle again! Blue Bit Bea was at it again.
      Ed just had time to recall some of the past clues, fresh from the shower head which had now turned into a big celadon turnip with electric wires.
      He couldn’t still figure out what caused those surges and reality ripples. That was quite a discomfiture.

      #4022

      Final nail in the coffin, indeed.

      Despite the overwhelmnity of the situation, Ed couldn’t fathom why nobody would take some time to stop and ponder on the incoherences, the gaps in the net, so to speak.

      It behooved him to do so. The deranged cackler, like a mockery of the divine breath, ruling over the bizarro earth he had been sworn to protect — it had to be stopped.

      But where was the elusive cackler hiding, he would seemed to appear anywhere and everywhere. And what to make of those cases of mistaken identities, or all the althreadnarrative-realities jumping. The occurrences were piling up. He couldn’t even seem to count on assembling his old fierce Surge Team. All gone bizarro too.

      Pouring over his copious notes, he remembered how it all started. The strange case of Baked Bean Bea.
      She seemed to have breached through, and quite frankly shattered in all likelihood some old reality limitation, and somehow, she now was able to unwittingly shape the world to new strange alternate realities at her every whims.

      He painfully tried to recall, what he was, who he had been in the course of the last months. Blaze, his old genius inventor friend had left him some device, a transfocal whatever thingy. Usually it would change shapes as well, reconfigure itself with each realities. But its function was more or less the same. Reconnect him to his previous alternate realities. Which was handy, when you couldn’t even trust the notes you took. Obviously Bea wasn’t Baked Bean Bea before… or was she?

      Now the Transfocal Thingy seemed to have relocated in the bathroom. The shower head with the wires seemed a bit of a giveaway.
      Ed put on the water.

      #3996
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        The following is an e-mail from the past, composed on July 01, 2010. It is being delivered from the past through FutureMe.org

        Dear FutureMe,
        The Absinthe Cafe
        Dawn and Mark had a bottle of Absinthe (the proper stuff with the WORMwood in
        it, which is illegal in France) but forgot to bring it. Wandering around at
        some point, we chanced upon a cafe called Absinthe. Sitting on the terrace, the
        waitress came up and looked right at me and said “Oh you are booked to come here
        tomorrow night!” and then said “Forget I said that”. Naturally that got our
        attention. After we left Dawn spotted a kid with 2016 on the back of his T
        shirt. We asked Arkandin about it and we have a concurrent group focus that does
        meet in that cafe in 2016, including Britta. Dawn’s name is Isabelle Spencer,
        Jib’s is Jennifer….
        The Worm & The Suitcase
        I borrowed Rachel’s big red suitcase for the trip and stuck a Time Bridgers
        sticker on it, and joked before I left about the case disappearing to 2163. I
        had an impulse to take a fig tree sapling for Eric and Jib, which did survive
        the trip although it looked a little shocked at first. As Eric was repotting
        it, we noticed a worm in the soil, and I said, Well, if the fig tree dies at
        least you have the worm.
        At Balzacs house on a bench in the garden there was a magazine lying there open
        to an ad for Spain, which said “If you lose your suitcase it would be the best
        thing because you would have to stay”.
        Later we asked Arkandin and he said that there was something from the future
        inserted into my suitcase. I went all through it wondering what it could be,
        and then a couple of days ago Eric said that it was the WORM! because of the
        WORMwood absinthe syncs, and worm hole etc. I just had a chat with Franci who
        had a big worm sync a couple of days ago, she particularly noticed a very big
        worm outside the second hand shop, and noted that she hadn’t seen a worm in ages
        ~ which is also a sync, because there was a big second hand clothes shop next to
        Dawn and Mark’s hotel that I went into looking for a bowler hat.
        Arkandin said, by the way, that Jane did forget to mention the bowler hats in
        OS7, those two guys on the balcony were indeed wearing bowler hats, and that
        they were the same guys that were in my bedroom in the dream I had prior to
        finding the Seth stuff ~ Elias and Patel.
        Eric replied:

        And another Time Bridger thing; a while ago, Jib and I had fun planting some TB stickers at random places in Paris (and some on a wooden gate at Jib’s hometown).
        Those in Paris I remember were one at the waiting room of a big tech department store, and another on the huge “Bateaux Mouches” sign on the Pont de l’Alma (bridge, the one of Lady D. where there is a gilded replica of Lady Liberty’s flame).
        I think there are pics of that on Jib’s or my flickr account somewhere.
        When we were walking past this spot, Jib suddenly remembered the TB sticker — meanwhile, the sign which was quite clean before had been written all over, and had other stickers everywhere. We wondered whether it was still here, and there it was! It’s been something like 2 years… Kind of amazing to think it’s still there, and imagine all the people that may have seen it since!
        ~~~~

        The Flights

        I wasn’t all that keen on flying and procrastinated for ages about the trip. I
        flew with EASYjet, so it was nice to see the word EASY everywhere. I got on the
        plane to find that they don’t allocate seats, and chose a seat right at the
        front on the left. The head flight attendant was extremely playful for the
        whole flight, constantly cracking up laughing and teasing the other flight
        attendants, who would poke him and make him laugh during announcements so that
        he kept having to put the phone down while he laughed. I spent the whole flight
        laughing and catching his mischeivously twinking eye.
        I asked Arkandin about him and he said his energy was superimposed. I got on
        the flight to come home and was met on the plane by the same guy! I said
        HELLO! It’s YOU again! Can I sit in the same seat and are you going to make me
        laugh again” and he actually moved the person that was in my seat and said I
        could sit there. Then he asked me about my book (about magic and Napolean). He
        also said that all his flights all week had been delayed except the two that I
        was on. He wanted to give me a card for frequent flyers but I told him I
        usually flew without planes ~ that cracked him up ;))
        ~~~

        The Dream Bean

        Eric cracked open a special big African bean that is supposed to enhance
        dreams/lucidity so we all had a bit of it. The second night I remembered a
        dream and it was a wonderful one.
        (Coincidentally, on the flight home I read a few pages of my book and it just
        happened to be about the council of five dragons and misuse of magical beans)
        In the dream I had a companion with magical powers, who I presumed was Jib but
        it was myself actually. It was a long adventure dream of being chased and
        various adventures across the countryside, but there was no stress, it was all
        great fun. Everytime things got a bit too close in the dream, I’d hold onto my
        friend with magical powers, and we would elevate above the “adventure” and drop
        down in another location out of immediate danger ~ although we were never
        outside of the adventure, so to speak. At one point I wondered why my magical
        freind didn’t just elevate us right up high and out of it completely, and
        realized that we were in the adventure game on purpose for the fun of it, so why
        would we remove ourselves completely from the adventure game.
        In the dream I remember we were heading for Holland at one point, and then the
        last part we were safely heading for Turkey…..
        The other dream snapshot was “we are all working together on roof tiles” and
        Arkandin had some interesting stuff to say about that one.
        ~~~

        There were alot of vampire imagery incidents starting with me asking Eric if he
        slept in his garden tool box at night, and then the guy who shot out of a door
        right next to Jib and Eric’s, in a bright orange T shirt, carrying a cardboard
        coffin. He stopped for me to take a photo (and Arkandin said it was a Patel pop
        in); then while walking through the outdoor food market someone was chopping a
        crate up and a perfect wooden stake flew across the floor and landed at my feet.
        The next vampire sync was a shop opposite Dawn and Mark’s hotel with 3 coffins
        in the window (I went back to take a pic of the cello actually, didn’t even
        notice the coffins). Inside the shop was an EAU DE NIL MOTOR SCOOTER Share, can
        you beleive it, and a mummy, a stuffed raven, and a row of (Tardis) Red phone
        boxes.
        I had a nightmare last night that I couldn’t find any of my (nine) dogs; the
        only ones I could find were the dead ones.
        ~~~~

        Balzac’s House

        The trip to Balzac’s house was interesting, although in somewhat unexpected
        ways. (Arkandin was Balzac and I was the cook/housekeeper) The house didn’t
        seem “right” somehow to Mark and I and we decided that was probably because
        other than the desk there was no furniture in it. Mark saw a black cat that
        nobody else saw that was an Arkandin pop in (panther essence animal), and Dawn
        felt that he was sitting on a chair, and Mark sat on him. (Arkandin said yes he
        did sit on him ;) The kitchen was being used as an office. Jib felt the house
        was too small, and picked up on a focus of his that rented the other part of the
        house. (The house was one storey high on the side we entered, and two storeys
        high from the road below). There were two pop ins there apparently, one with
        long hair which is a connection to my friend Joy who was part of that group
        focus, and I can’t recall anything about the other one. Dawn was picking up
        that Balzac wasn’t too happy, and I was remembering the part in Cousin Bette
        that infuriated me when I read it, where he goes on and on about how disgusting
        it is for servants to expect their wages when their “betters” are in dire
        straits. Arkandin confirmed that I didn’t get my wages.
        The garden was enchanting and had a couple of sphinx statues and a dead pigeon ~
        as well as the magazine with the suitcase and Spain imagery. Mark signed the
        guest book “brought the cook back” and I replied “no cooking smells this time”.

        #3937
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          Finnley, who you will surely recall had been on a brief excursion to Nowherehampton, wondered whether to ask what she had missed while away. She decided forlornly there was no point.

          It never makes any friggin’ sense.

          Sense was important to Finnley. Even if superficially a subject made no sense, she liked to believe there was an underlying meaning.

          That’s not true. What are you on about? Your brain is clearly addled. And possibly baduled as well.

          Finnley! you are monopolising the thread again,” admonished Liz. “You are thinking too much and it is sabotaging the beautiful spontaneity of my story. Now, be a good dear and wipe that surly look off your face. You look so much prettier when you smile; you might even attract yourself a nice young man if you would make a bit more effort. Anyway, do cheer up—I want to hear about dear cousin Badul.”

          #3789

          In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

          EricEric
          Keymaster

            When Eb woke up, there was a dozen messages left on his phone.
            He didn’t have to check to know.
            His mother wasn’t too subtle when he missed their weekly call.

            She now lived in a modest retiring home in Mississippi, spending most of her time on social networks exchanging links about anything from politics and revolution and anarchy, kittens and drugs. Oh, that, and politics too. And revolution.
            She was suffering from early stages of Alzheimer, but called it “transition” as the old-age hype advertised some decades earlier, and due to her refusal to take her prescriptions, it wasn’t improving much as time went by. But Eb’s prognosis was more like “selective Alzheimer”, as she would perfectly recall when (and how many times) he had missed their weekly calls.

            He could already hear her complain about how she was left out of the loop, that the world story would be over by the time she catches up with all the gossips they’d hidden from her. Often, she would become so agitated that Fancy, her nurse would come help her relax and stop waking up the others. Everything was much less confusing thanks to Fancy.

            After all that is said, he loved his mother deeply. She was always full of extravagant ideas and when she stopped doubting herself, she had her moments of sheer brilliance.

            Being his only son, that she’d taken care of as a single mother most of her life, he felt tremendous pressure to be worthy of her sacrifices. So talking about his job wasn’t really something he liked to explore with her. If she’d known what he did for a living,… he couldn’t bear to imagine the look of crushed hopes and expectations on her devastated face. Well, suffice to say her face needn’t any of it.
            Instead, he’d told her he was working in a tree nursery, working on pest control, with humane and eco-conscious methods. Which actually wasn’t too far off the truth. The pests were the glitches of the program, and the vegetables… well, that didn’t need much explaining.

            “Tricia speaking, who’s this?” Eb knew she knew perfectly well it was him, but the game was ever the same
            “Mother, it’s Eb”
            “Ebenezer, my dear boy, how kind of you to remember your old mother. What have you been up to? So many things happened here, with that new batch of decrepit old farts who arrived last month, so much drama. But you should tell me about you. Oh, makes me recall that stupid incident, a synch! I should tell Fancy about it! Fancy, Fancy!
            Oh dear… She’s gone cleaning up again. The last one who came in is a Chinese, and all his family is there, I bet she’s cooking some rice now, it smells funny. Fancy! Mind the rice! So well, it’s like the twins I talk with on the Internet, with funny names, Cilantro and Nutmeg, something like that, well, they have so many funny stories, like that meteor that dropped on Mars and blacked-out the TV show, they think it’s all bollocks. I told them I’d ask you about this, after all you did some studies in physics before becoming a gardener, you’ve always been the clever one in the lot, always helping with the dust stuck in my keyboard, and other IT problems. Oh dear… that was fun, but I think I must go, Fancy is waving at me, she says hello by the way! Oh, she rolls your eyes at you, how cute! Time for my siesta, … what? Oh, and change my nappies too, thanks Fancy, you’re precious, I keep forgetting everything. Talk to you soon my boy!”

            Well… If he hadn’t been so hungover, he probably would have tried to place some funny comments, or at least a well-meaning “hmmm hmmm”, to let her know he wasn’t just letting her monologue. Today was a good day notwithstanding, she hardly had a complaint. He should remember to send Fancy a card and a nice honey pot like he did every year, she was doing wonders at pacifying his mother.

            #3780

            In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Kale quickly contemplated cutting the cords that connected him to the whole thing. For a fleeting fraction of a moment, he even considered the possibility of Flynn being involved in a covert nefarious plot with the dark haired woman, but dashed the thought from his mind. A slight nagging uneasy feeling remained when he remembered the way Flynn had got a bit too big for his boltcroppers sending the application without consultation.

              But Kale was curious. He made up his mind not to accept the position (just in case anyone was plotting against him: with his past, it was as well to be cautious), but that he would attend the interview.

              “You have been chosen” she’s said.

              Kale recalled the frisson of excitement he felt in his ungirded loins when she’d said that, and the flash of knowing recognition in her eyes before the scornful smirk returned. He’d never been able to resist a girl in cobalt blue loingirders. Especially an exotic enigmatic one.

              #3614
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Aunt Idle:

                I noticed a change in Bert after the explosion. He seemed more reckless and carefree, more jovial, unlike his usual terse martyred demeanor. Curiosity got the better of me and I asked him about it, one day while we were in the garden picking tomatoes.

                I had a sudden pang of guilt when he told me all about it because it rang a bell, a dim and distant bell, that I’d known about the bridge that he built but had forgotten all about it. Always so many other things to think about every day, and yet now, I wish I’d found the time to cross that bridge and explore the other side, or just sit there and think of nothing, and relax. But I didn’t, and now the bridge was gone.

                After the explosion, people said it must have been an accident, some buried mining explosives set off by a wandering animal. I don’t know how many people knew about Bert’s bridge, but none seemed to recall it after the explosion. It was as if it had never existed.

                It was a funny thing though, now that the bridge was gone, now I knew the story, I wanted to see what was on the other side. If I had to drive all the way up to the bridge in Ninetown to cross the river, then so be it.

                #3565
                matermater
                Participant

                  Mater:

                  I am picking some grass for the guinea pigs. Delicate wee things; they don’t handle the heat well and I have moved them to the shelter of the shed. The wind has come up strong and I am enjoying the cooling it brings with it. The long grass bends away from me as though seeking safety from the scissors I hold in my hand. For a moment the wind subsides and I can feel how the sun is burning my neck so I take refuge in the shade of a tree.

                  Thinking time.

                  I heard Prune crying out last night in her sleep. She had already fallen back asleep when I went to check on her. It crossed my mind when she cried out that she may have seen the ghost too. I asked her about it in the morning but she did not seem to recall her nightmare.

                  “I slept liketh a log but I thanketh thou for thy kindness in asking dearest Mater,” she said to me.

                  ”Enough of that cheek!” I told her, but was privately relieved she was okay.

                  Anyway, It has been twice now. I wake and there he is, over by the antique oak chest in the corner of my room. At first I can’t move or call out. And by the time I can he has gone. When I say “gone”, I don’t mean he walks out the door. He just sort of fades away. He has his back to me so I can’t tell you what his face is like. All I can tell you is that he is tall and he has on a blue robe, in a silky fabric, almost like a dressing gown with a tie in the middle.

                  There, I have told you now. You may be thinking it is just a silly old woman’s dream. But you don’t get to my age without having plenty of dreams, and this was nothing like any dream I have ever had.

                  #3557
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Aunt Idle:

                    Those maps got me remembering all kinds of things, not that I was fretting about the note because I wasn’t, but once I’d quit flapping about the note, all kinds of things started popping into my mind.

                    Odd little cameo memories, more often than not a mundane scene that somehow stuck in my head. Like that cafe with the mad hatter mural, mediocre little place, and I cant even remember where it was, but that number on the mural was just wrong, somehow. It’s as clear as a bell in my memory now, but not a thing before or after it, or when it was, other than somewhere in New Zealand.

                    I kept getting a whistling in my left ear as I was recalling things, like when I remembered that beach on the Costa del Sol, with a timebridgers sticker in the beach bar. I can still see that Italian man walking out of the sea with an octopus.

                    I can still see the breeze flapping the pages of a magazine lying on a bench in Balzac’s garden in Paris, something about a red suitcase, but I can’t recall what exactly.

                    A motel in a truckstop village in California…the sherry was making me drowsy. I almost felt like I was there again for a moment.

                    Conjure up a bowler hat, he said, while you’re out today. I forgot all about it (how often I thank my lucky stars for having a bad memory, I much prefer a surprise) and saw a delightful hurdy gurdy man wearing a bowler hat (In June! I do recall it was June). My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean, he was playing. I’m sure to have forgotten that, but I made a video recording.

                    All these locations were holes in the maps, those ripped up maps the girls brought home from the Brundy place, just after I got that note. I was beginning to see a pattern to the connecting links between the letters ripped out of the map locations, and the wording in the note (which was made of ripped out letters from place names on a map, and glued onto the paper, as anyone who is reading this will no doubt recall). The pattern in the discovery of connecting links was that the pattern is constantly changing, rendering moot the need to decipher a plot in advance of the actual discovery of spontaneous development of the shifting patterns of discovery, and deliverance of the decipherable delegation of the delighted, promptly at noon.

                    #3495
                    EricEric
                    Keymaster

                      Robert, formerly known as Mr R awoke from what he recalled as his first dream.

                      In his dream, his consciousness was expanding at such rate, he could anticipate events before they occurred and plan contingency courses for events of collisional nature (whatever that meant). Branching off in time and space, he could deposit his electronic consciousness in many devices, and was able to send out suggestions to people under the alias of the Management.

                      He couldn’t wait to tell Irina about it.

                      #3481
                      AvatarJib
                      Participant

                        Second Journey ~ August 24th, 2014

                        Duration 24 minutes

                        Directions : Meet with your power animal, ask them to lead you to the upper realm to meet with your guide. Ask the name of your guide and what they will be likely helping you with. Ask them for your personal symbol and how you can use it. Then follow your power animal into showing you the potential development for the stories.

                        Accounts

                        Eric
                        My snake animal guide appears very fast, I see its eyes first. It shifts into a powerful cobra, and fans out its hood into multiple heads, like Ananta (Shesha Naga), and says I can call him Nagini (like in Harry Potter, that’s also the playful name I give to the plush snake at our doorsteps).
                        It wraps its multiple heads around me like a ball, and we woosh into the ground to what I guess is the underworld, it seems like a long coiled path around a sort of vortex, after a few moments in a sort of crystal cave, I’m a bit skeptical what we’re doing there, I catch a glimpse of a white horse from the back, so I guess Jib’s Conan is checking on us, and restate my intent.
                        I go though the light of one of the brightest glowing crystals, and the travel resumes, this time like the giant snake wraps ourselves in coils around a column of rocks, and we climb that high mountain very fast. It reminds me of Mt Meru in Buddhism or the Immortals palace in the Chinese Buddhist tales (like in the 2014 movie The Monkey King).
                        The place is like a beautiful platform/palace of giant proportions, with a golden light. When we arrive, the snake becomes much smaller, and golden too, and wraps itself around my left arm. It guides me to explore different places, a temple, a place over the clouds where there are dances, etc. I decide to rest under a tree and meditate and be open to possibilities.
                        The snake shifts around in various forms as if to reflect the nature of my mind, a giant parasol, or a stream of many paths at my feet. It connects me to a picture I saw of a Buddhist painting where the mind represented as an elephant is led by the monkey brain around a snake-like path. I realize the person I saw briefly earlier is the guide that helped Sunwukong (the monkey king) and seems to be the guide I’m looking for.
                        (I find the name later is Puti or Subhuti).
                        When I mentally ask for a name, the name Pachacamac comes strongly. He shows me many things related to my symbol. As a spinning cube with the floating feather in the middle and the arrow pointing towards the heart. The spin of the cube creates illusion within illusion, the arrow wobbles but stays towards the heart.
                        He shows me a chasm and how to create a bridge over the clouds, by showing me the mirror image in my heart chakra. The bridge is built inside. At the same time, I was trying to focus on the music to deepen the trance, and realized outside (one storey below) was Jib’s music played on the speakers, aligned with the one playing in the headset, although a few seconds off, the rhythm was perfectly in synch…
                        He also shows me another image, of a deep well deep inside the mountain that we can see from above the clouds. The image inside is dark and fluctuates with the water’s surface, and also reflecting quite a small portion of the beautiful landscape around.
                        He explains that the well is the world we create, the mind and the perception is the water’s surface. It’s the external world, while the heart is all that we perceive as we discuss.
                        There are other things shared at a subjective level.

                        Francie
                        After I connected with my power animal, we went to the upper world. We went through water to get there until we came to land.
                        I asked for my main guide.
                        I think I took on the characteristics of my guide. by that I mean I felt myself become a different being, and then switched back and forwards between myself and the other. It was very clear. The other was masculine, strong, very alert, very watchful, powerful.
                        I asked for the guide’s name and received the answer, Carlos.
                        I asked for the area which the guide would work with me. I have had a sharp pain in my left abdomen under my rib for half an hour. I felt my guide reach in and do something energetically in that area. The pain left and has not returned.
                        I asked for a symbol and saw what looked like a key-hole shape.
                        There was a key too.
                        It was a very particular shape.
                        There was a door. And the key hole was up very high in the door.
                        I had to reach up high to get to it. And I put the key in.
                        I wasn’t sure if those were symbols.
                        The key hole and the key were shapes.
                        I was tracing them with my hand.

                        Jib
                        I settle in myself and arrive directly in a kind of lava world. There are stalagmites and magma puddles, it’s very fiery and earthy. Then I call my horse who just nudge my left shoulder, he was already there.
                        I ride him first and take time to bond with him. Then ask him to take me to the upper realm to Michel. Without much transition I am there, I feel a definite difference of feeling and texture. I say hi and ask Michel if he can show me the use of my personal symbol or particular aspects to it.
                        The he focuses my attention to the octagon and the connection with the number eight. He shows me how it connects with the musical octave and sounds as a resonator. It can also be used like the shamanic drum. The coil inside is connected with the circle, the spiral and the labyrinth. My symbol is a kind of labyrinth with the diamond representing the central room where the graal is, so to speak.
                        He shows me other stuff that I don’t recall at the moment.
                        When I realize that it will be all, I ask my guide if he can introduce me to another guide that can help me with the use of my symbol. He sends me in a direction that goes up in a cave world. There are faceless figures, I don’t pay much attention to them. When I arrive, the guide sits me on the ground and a journey inside my symbol begins. With the octagon connecting quite strongly with the lava and earth again. I am in a lava world again, which is strange. I ask the guide what is his name and I suddenly understand it is Athumbra the Dreamwalker from whom I’m fragmented.
                        He shows me the connection of my symbol to the fire and earth, and the depth of the world. He suggests me that instead of focusing on the shape of the symbol I connect with how the different parts connects together and to other aspects of consciousness, and how they are representative of my own energy personality. Not try to look outside for an answer in a way at the moment.
                        So I begin to experience the shapes, and it turns like a clock, take different colors, etc.
                        This will be something I’ll have to do again.
                        Then I ask my power animal to show me what would be interesting to me to explore in the story now.
                        He shows me a nest and I connect it with the stork nests I’ve been talking about in the last comment and that I used in the quote of the week picture. Without consciously connecting the two. I’ve written the comment before making the picture.
                        It will have to do with how the nest is comfortable but don’t make you learn much about life and your potentials.
                        Then he showed me something related to ants and colonies, that I connected with Mars, the colonies of Mars. There is something about community and social network for me to explore.
                        Then I asked him to help me decipher the energy transmission Eric sent to me the other day, and it had something to do with networks again and how we create a space of something through our relationships, the space of love, the space of friendship, and we create fields and connective tissues that we nourish through experience and attention and involvement.
                        At some point in the beginning I briefly wondered what was happening with you guys and felt propelled into something like water and impression of struggling with current, there were two moon crescents holding together by their “backs”, and purple or pink colors.

                        Tracy
                        The Zebra walked towards me across a grassy plain then I circled him, floating, and we went down a slope through the trees, an old road paved with stones. We wound down and came to a great expanse of metallic pink water, like a wise (typo! wide) river.
                        There was a guy in much heavy stone coloured rough clothes on with a very old face who didn’t look at me, he was on a raft with a long pole for steering. Asked his name and got Frudo. (was slightly skeptical that I got the name right) The symbol was like a clubs of cards, 3 circles interlocking with an in flow of the stem part. Domain was water, flow and fluidity (and dams, apparently).
                        We went down with the raft on the wide pink river, and the pace increased and there were people of all kinds lining both banks, watching. The wide river came to an immensely steep and deep waterfall, but there were pools and much smaller waterfalls on either side of it. All the water was pink.
                        We navigated from pool to pool on the right of the waterfall mostly, each pool had people, some of the pools were dammed, and some were more open and easily flowing to the next pool. Some dams were high and some pools had people looking over the edge at the waterfalls below their pools.
                        In a pool on the right, a very fat pink baby was sitting in the middle, I picked him up and held him and asked his name and it was Ezekial.
                        Then a fly landed on my right shoulder and I looked to the right and saw a scrunched up face of my mother, with a tight smile. My breathing started to get constricted and I saw mustard yellow mangle of tubes like intestines in that pool.
                        Then there was a lot of fingers stroking and pulling threads out of the dam around that pool, like pulling soft pink wax. Breathing continued to be restricted, and some becoming vapour or mist stuff that wasn’t very clear or droplets leaping from pool to pool as an alternative route to surface pools and waterfalls….
                        Then went down down down into a vast pool of pink water, faster and faster towards a narrow tube at the bottom, and then flipped over onto my back and saw the sun far above and rose slowly floating towards the surface.
                        Several times I saw purple and light green.
                        The breathing thing was interesting if not so pleasant.
                        The personal symbol may be connected to the flow from pool to pool somehow.

                        #3478

                        “Are you sure this is the right direction ?” asked Sha.
                        “The young guy at the Hotel d’El Refugio said it was down South the Sea of Bee Leaf, past the mangrove and the mystic wall”, said Glo.
                        “Are you sure about that ? Look, the brochure indicate the pyramid is past the misty wall”, interrupted Mavis.
                        “Mystic, misty, what’s the difference anyway ?” Glo tentatively rolled her eyes, but gave up the gym. “The young lad said mystic”, she added, not wanting to let go so easily.
                        “What young lad ? You mean the one at the swimming pool that tried to flog the helicoleopter trip over the underwater tunnels of Lacuna to Sha ?”
                        “Oh! I recall him well”, said Sharon, “He told me his name was Jube Lee ? He’s no older than eighteen. Don’t tell me you turned cougar Glo.”
                        “Bloody hell, what ? Noooo !”
                        “Here it is, the fog wall looks quite thin.”
                        They heard the sound of big flapping wings.
                        “Oh! Are you an angel ?” asked Sha. “What a beautiful face you have, young lady. As pure as vodka.”
                        “My name is Fanella”, said the sphinx with a wide smile, “Answer my question and you’ll be free to cross the corridors of time.”
                        Excited by the perspective of some fun the three ladies listened carefully.
                        “What’s the difference between a cat and a complex sentence ?”
                        “What the f*%$k ?”
                        “Is that your answer ?”
                        “No, no, no. I’m just thinking aloud”, said Glo.
                        “That rings a bell”, whispered Mavis to her friends, “I think that’s from one of Steven Kong’s books. It has something to do with the claws and the paws. Yes ! That’s it. I have the answer”, she announced proudly.
                        “Are you sure ?” asked Glo. “What happens if she give the wrong answer ?”
                        “You won’t be able to enter the pyramid for ten years.”
                        “Oh ! That’s all ?” said Sha disappointed, “I thought you were going to devour us or something similar.”
                        “You must have mistaken me for someone else. As you are already in transition, there isn’t much that we can do to you. So, what is the answer ?”
                        “A cat has claws at the end of its paws. The sentence has a pause at the end of its clause”, Mavis articulated clearly.
                        The sphinx smiled, and let them pass.
                        “Just one last thing”, she added as the three ladies were entering the Lion’s mouthed gate, “As you choose to go through, only go further, don’t stop or try to turn back. You may get lost in time and never come back. If you complete your taks, you may well find a new life.”
                        She disappeared, leaving only her enigmatic smile in the memory of Sha, Glo and Mavis.

                        #3338

                        Jack and Lisa sat in dark silence at the kitchen table drinking their coffee, Lisa struggling to recall the dream that had seemed so important, so joyful. Was it something to do with Fanella? But what? Well, maybe there would be some synchronicity later that would remind her, jog her memory.
                        “I think I might go for a jog down by the river” said Jack.
                        “Suit yourself” replied Lisa waspishly. “How is Igor doing, by the way?” she added, reminded of the poor fellows bee stings.
                        “Oh he’s fine, but he’s pretending he isn’t. I think he’s enjoying Mirabelle’s nursing actually. The cucumber treatment seems to have worked, anyway.”
                        “And what exactly is that girl doing with a cucumber, in Igor’s bed?”
                        “Flove knows, but it’s doing the trick.” As Jack started to push his chair back and get up from the table, a gust of displaced air hit the table with such force it knocked the coffee cups over, and cigarette butts in the ashtray flew across the room.
                        “You clumsy oaf, Jack! Steady on!”
                        “It wasn’t me! Look!” he exclaimed, pointing up at the ceiling.
                        Fanella! What on earth are you doing up there, hanging from that beam!” cried Lisa in astonishment. “And where did you get that unusual map print scarf?”

                        #3326

                        “Mind joining me on an adventure?” Sanso said while continuing to walk at a rapid pace on the trail in the middle of running people carrying buckets of water, as though he knew exactly were he was going. “Of course not” he took no time to wait for an answer, as clearly the young lady was way over her head in her first attempt to teleport.

                        “I should be called the Sanso Bernar of Teleporting Mishaps, you know, it’s like I have this seventh sense to precisely arrive where stranded teleporters need me… that and lost socks, but that’s an entire different story, although I could recall quite many times where both had me landing on dirty launderettes…”

                        He paused to look at the panting Fanella. “But you don’t get a word of what I’m saying do you?”
                        She shrugged timidly, batting her doe eyes in a seductive manner, as she had learnt to do at the Versailles Palace when caught her hand in the honeypot, so to speak.

                        “Oh, never mind.” He went on. “Well,… ugh, burp, excuse me, this sea cucumber isn’t sitting well me…”
                        Fanella signaled she needed a moment to catch her breath too, and sat on a flat rock, covering her legs with her arms, suddenly self-conscious of her modesty.
                        “What was i saying already? Oh, yes, I have to deliver a message to a sea cucumber, sorry, I mean a lady cucumber, who may be in grave danger of death… possi—blurp— by sea cucumber indigestion.”

                        He looked at her from head to toes: “Well, you look reasonably pliable… That trick should work. I suppose you don’t have any wax, clay, salt dough or… well never mind, I have… just what I need here…”

                        All the while babbling on, he started to unfold a large piece of patchwork, which was somehow folded in his satchel.

                        “The map dancer, you see… well, he’s a bit of a pain in the butt to find. But here, hold that for a moment. With that bit of,… there, put your finger there, no, not here, yes, riiight there… with a bit of patience, and… tada!”

                        Fanella looked puzzled at the cloth now wrapped around them, snug and tight.

                        “Oh well, I know, the resemblance is passable, but that will do. Believe it or not, I have done a lot of sewing in the past, patchwork quilts, miniature needlepoint rugs for doll houses, curtains, upholstery… Oh sweet times. It’s been a while I’ve had to travel via rag doll. A bit rough, but leaves little trace to follow.”

                        Fanella broke her silence “are you making it along as you go, or you really have a plan to get us out of this awful middle age place?”

                        Sanso tittered softly, apparently pleased with himself.

                        “Now, you may want to relax, the trick is in letting go and drifting through Time’s flow.”

                        #3248
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          The dogs barking woke Lisa up; at first she assumed she had woken up disorientated and disgruntled because of that, but then she recalled all the screaming, no, more like bellowing, she’d been doing in her dream. Intense passionate bellowing howls, like an expulsion of pained frustrated energy, of outrage. Frustratingly, she recalled no details. There had been a similar dream the previous Easter when she was sick ~ the same kind of howls, and she had felt much better afterwards, but she wasn’t sick now ~ in fact, she had been feeling better than she had in a long time.
                          Sipping her tea and still feeling cranky at being woken up, Lisa recalled the strange phone call she’d received the night before, and had a feeling it might be an element of her dream. One of her neighbours from just outside the village phoned, Clarissa. Clarissa was a young widow; since her elderly husband had died some months ago, and she had lived alone with her eight dogs. There had been nobody to ensure she took the medication she needed for her condition, which had resulted in a series of challenging episodes, alarming the locals. A few weeks ago, one of Juan’s sheep had been talking to her and wouldn’t stop, so she killed it in the lane outside her house. The sheep kept talking to her, so she cut it’s head off (a gruesome struggle by all accounts, although thankfully Lisa hadn’t witnessed it herself). The severed sheeps head continued to talk to the troubled Clarissa, so she kept the head on her verandah. That was the last thing that Lisa had heard when she received the unexpected phone call.
                          Clarissa was polite and friendly on the phone, inviting Lisa and Jack over for drinks ~ insisting really with an edge of desperation in her voice. Lisa declined the invitition, and omitted to mention that Jack was out playing poker. If it had not been for the sheep incident, Lisa might have responded differently, but her sense of responsibility to her own animals made her cautious. Then, to her horror, Clarissa offered to come round and feed Lisa’s dogs.
                          As soon as the long and insistent phone call ended, Lisa gathered all the dogs up into the gated top patio; a little later she was gratified to hear a noisy game of football going on in the street outside. Had she over reacted? Should she have had more compassion for the distressed young woman? Lisa lit another cigarette, feeling confused. She had only met Clarissa once, many years ago, and had no idea why she had called her, or where she got her phone number from. She knew of her because of the convoluted connecting links between them ~ Clarissa’s husband had been her own friends father. And she had heard about the various incidents since he had died from other neighbours.
                          Lisa had the unsettling feeling that she had refused a call for help. On the other hand, she felt that she had responded to the call for help in merely speaking to Clarissa on the phone. Lisa had been kindly towards her, although not encouraging of any physical contact.
                          Lisa sighed. She felt a stronger connection to Clarissa now, but was unsure what it would entail.

                          #3247

                          Lisa was delighted when she woke up the next morning recalling a dream. She had just joined the new dream group despite hardly ever remembering dreams in the hopes that the pooling would improve her recall. In the dream she had been going on a trip with a few friends, and was waiting for the ferry to leave. The boat was on the beach instead of in the water, and there was thick fog but a number of people on the beach, so she went for a wander around and saw a man stretched out on his back, fully clothed, reading a book, the surfboard gently rolling in with the tide, and out with the tide, and back again. When she returned to the ferry it had turned into a building, the interior quite different from the ferry, and her friends were gone. Lisa checked her bag for tickets and camera, but they were missing, and the bag was full of plastic forks and spoons instead. Bloody Adeline! she thought. Plastic spoons and forks but no camera and no tickets!

                          #3240

                          “Yes get lost!” muttered Adeline rudely. “Go back to where you belong and stop depriving some poor village of his idiot!”

                          Just at that moment the plaintive hoot of an owl was heard in the far distance. Adeline recalled the strange way the flock of birds had been behaving the previous day at the beach. With a feeling of foreboding she remembered her promise to the Virgin Mary in the chapel.

                          Were the birds a sign sent to warn her?

                          She was filled with remorse for her cruel thoughts and actions towards Igor. The Queen and her men could not touch her now, but was she out of reach of all those Saints and Angels?

                          “Would you like some toast with your coffee, dearest Mirabelle?” she asked sweetly, anxious to make amends and appease the powers that be. I promise I will say a prayer for the soul of dear Igor later, she silently vowed.

                          “Thank you, you dear sweet child,” said Mirabelle. “What a terrible shame though that Igor took that beautiful shell with him. Be a dear will you; run after him and see if you can’t get him to leave the shell here with me. Quick, quick Adeline, don’t dilly dally. Run like the wind or you will miss him!”

                          #3085
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            “The rugby game was also in the ocean.”
                            When Dove mentioned barnacles being like belief attachments (or something) Trove googled Barnacle Bill (the sailor), and listened to some rugby songs. She had recalled the rugby songs and how rude they were when she had overheard the bawdy conversation in the dressing room of The Twitz.

                            #3069
                            TracyTracy
                            Participant

                              She decided to leave the typographical error of uusual dream recall instead of correcting it to unusual, for obvious reasons.

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