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  • #1014
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      “Oh just leave the reader to do the proof reading, Yurick! If ‘there are no accidents’ then a few misspellings or a bit of mangled grammar might contain a clue for someone somewhere, somewhen….
      it might be best to leave them in. You never know, you know… and anyway, I have this funny feeling that the pages aren’t quite as officially fixed as we might be inclined to think. Not quite cast in stone, as it were….Don’t ask me what I mean, Yurick,” Dory said with a laugh, “Because I can’t explain it.”

      Yurick knew better than to ask Dory to explain anything, and remained silent, with one eyebrow raised quizzically as Dory rambled on.

      “It’s like the branches of a tree,” Dory continued, with a faraway look in her eyes. “The branches on a tree look like such a tangle, but they are all connected to the trunk ~ the roots might look like a hopeless tangle too, if we could see them, but they do know what they’re doing ~ feeding the trunk or the core which sprouts out all over the place. There’s a bird in the tree, hopping from branch to branch. Does he care if he hops from one branch to another? No! Imagine if the bird was so rigid that he had to hop all along one branch from start to finish before changing to another branch.”

      “Hahahah,” Yurick laughed, “A Sumafi bird?”

      “You might say the little bird is the present moment, free to hop onto any branch at any time, or even fly to another tree…” continued Dory, who hadn’t heard Yurick.

      “Another tree?” asked Yurick with a mock pained expression. “I have enough trees on my plate already.”

      “And the thing is with trees, there isn’t really a place to start hopping or a place to stop hopping, from the birds perspective.”

      Dory turned to Yurick with a grin. “It’s a book that you can read from any starting point. No beginning, and no end… maybe we can have all the pages loose with no numbers on, sort of a do-it-yourself assembly…”

      Yurick laughed, a trifle nervously, and asked Dory if she would like a cup a coffee.

      #909

      The confusion that Claude had made on the spiders ranks had been all that Phurt had waited for.
      In her agitation she hadn’t felt the signals that the Mother had been hurt during the fight.

      The only thing that obsessed Phurt now was that a way was now clear for the giant spider to go nearer the “wortex”. She could feel it, it was coming from the elder tree, the roots of which went spreading miles and miles away.
      Perhaps she could subjugate that raw power, consume it wholly and become one with it.

      But, as she went closer and closer, she started to feel as if she wasn’t the one eating or absorbing it, but the reverse was true. She started to struggle as she felt sucked into the wortex, crying as she felt doomed to oblivion, as old Narani had been telling them. How stupid had she been, she should have heard her. And as the Mother was now dying instead of becoming the new Mother, she was now about to die with her.
      But now was too late for laments. She had to embrace her destiny, and if it meant to die, she would, with pride.

      :fleuron:

      They all had felt it simultaneously. Armelle and the Snoot on the borgulm tree, Yuki and Rafaela, waiting with Anita near the perimeter made by the spiders, and Akayli the werelynx, carrying the mummified parents.

      What’s happening Claude asked to the owl

      One of the giant spiders went through the hole, and we’ll have to follow her said Yuki to Anita.

      The good thing is that the turmoil will keep the wortex opened a little longer Akayli thought to himselves.

      Armelle, go open the way now the Snoot whispered to the owl, then poofed away in a gurgling liquid sound.

      #1798

      In reply to: Synchronicity

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Some interesting syncs:

        Discussing the comment on Franiel and Vincentius with Francie, some things of interest:

        F: hahaha i laughed at the egg bit :egg_wink:
        E: bit silly I reckon :)) but somehow it synch’ed with two movies we’ve been watching yesterday
        F: yes, good to have a bit of silly in our otherwise serious story :|
        E: In one, there is that :ghost: ghost girl who stalks her husband new love affair, and ends up speaking through a parrot
        And the other, there is this shaman old woman who remote-views her people went on a quest, and ends up dying in stead of a girl, so that the young one lives…

        F: oh that is like your plants in the courtyard dream too —just had a recollection of you saying one gave up its pot for the other one
        E: Oh yes, true… Perhaps it’s just like a layering, like you do for strawberries, you use parts of the roots to do new plants…
        “Layering is more complicated than taking cuttings, but has the advantage that the propagated portion can continue to receive water and nutrients from the parent plant while it is forming roots.”

        E: “In air layering (or marcotting), the target region is wounded and then surrounded in a moisture-retaining wrapper such as sphagnum moss ;))

        Peat moss is also a critical element for growing mushrooms” that’ll make Tracy happy :))
        In New Zealand, care is taken during the harvesting of sphagnum moss=))

        F: “it can also be used as a substrate for tarantulas as it is easy to burrow into:spider:

        E: “Such Sphagnum bogs can also preserve human hair and clothing, one of the most noteworthy examples being Egtved Girl , Denmark”. Egg and B.C. sync :))

        F: cool name, Egtved. Oh thats interesting about the Egtved girl: due to be public this month
        E: oh, well spotted!
        F: shall we all pop over and check it out
        E: Ahahaha sure :world:

        #1980

        In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

        TracyTracy
        Participant

          THE WIDE ones caught maevel AS SHE WAS beginning A game. HER sisters, A boy, HER self AND HER mummy WERE GOING ON A trip. THE bag LADY heard, BUT DIDN’T understand. Night ON THE island CAME, AND sam, quintin, AND quickly yann AND THE BAG lady, moments within OPEINING THE door, A human real focus sort, WHO loved tomkin, WALKED IN.

          NO higher EVENT HAD happened; perhaps IT looked LIKE action, beautiful TO himself, able TO SEE sanso’S mother, rather blond WITH dark ROOTS. AH, words ARE wanted, FOR AN ass SO true TO BEcome aware SO easily. I needed TO read love INTO whatever YOU MAY BE thinking, AS I GO wandering IN THE lemonS, THINKING OUTSIDE THE box.

          Warm SUN, LET’S sleep; let’S meEt AND watch important water IMAGERY. Nothing IS lost, IT’S calling US.

          Cool session! :yahoo_eyelashes:

          IT’S A fine LINE BETWEEN already focused dragons THIS year. IT’S ALL happening NOW; I wonder IF finding tracy created UNtold CLUES.:cluebox: :yahoo_doh:

          WE knew THE great blue GUY WAS getting mean, changing OUR cave SO often AND SO weird .

          NOTHING IS EVER forgotten :yahoo_skull:

          #1313

          In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            November 9 th

            For Yurick, or perhaps shall we say, The Artist Formerly Known As Quintin this sequence of sequence of 911 has the signification of a reminder to be paying attention to self, and being present to himself.
            The last few days have been, in appearance, quite devoid of exciting new installments of the story, yet, we nudge him not to judge this lack of activity on his part as categorically as he has been used to do. It was a time of self-retreat, a time we have shared with many other essences, as all is connected.
            A very fine point which has been brought forth by Elias a few days ago (in Yurick’s perception of time) has been that you want to appreciate the process. His illustration was that of a beautiful flower bud that you hold, and that you don’t want to tear open, but rather let itself reveal its splendor, and also, its surprises.

            It has prompted Yurick to remember something, which had lots of meaning to him.
            Some years ago, when he was in Kyoto’s forests, he picked up an acorn, as he liked to have seeds or tree corns in his pockets. Back from his trip, in his home, there was this big pot of earth were an old plant had died from the summer heat, and he planted the acorn in it.
            And he waited. Till he had to move, some months later, having renounced to have the acorn grow at all, as the soil’s surface was remaining desperately flat. Perhaps it had rotten altogether. Before leaving the apartment, Yurick started to rummage with his bare hands into the soil, to look for the remains of the acorn he believed had rotten, only to find it perfectly healthy. And even more, it had grown lots of long roots.
            So he took it back home, where it was planted and still continues to grow at a rapid rate.

            Looking at the now big sapling reminds Yurick how that process of growing roots was important for the plant, as they were essential for the oak to be able to survive the winters colds and the summers heats.

            Such is the importance of these moments were inspiration seem to be scarce, or away. It is ever present, growing its roots very carefully inside the soil of your being, and expanding your connexions, redefining some, bringing new nourishments to yourself… The effects are not always immediately visible, but things never cease to move.

            Be prepared to be amazed by the colors of the flowers and leaves your seed produces, for as Yurick’s oak was an unusual kind of oak (a chestnut oak ), the very seeds that are in your pockets or waiting in the soils of your dream gardens may reveal their own surprises…

            #279

            Once Illi had realized she was dead and could ‘go’ anywhere she liked simply by creating the ‘place’ around her, she decided to take a long relaxing holiday on a deserted tropical island. She would float in the warm lagoon, feast on coconuts and pina coladas and mangoes, play with the dancing lemurs and build fantastic sand castles on the beaches. As she visualized it, it appeared as if by magic all around her…the sun warm on her head, the sand between her toes, the gentle breeze fragrant with exotic blooms and the sound of gossiping parrots filled her senses. She closed her eyes and flung her arms wide in appreciation for the physical joys she had recreated, breathed deeply and relaxed for the first time since she had died. Finally, she felt like she knew where she was, even if that ‘somewhere’ was as ‘nowhere’ as ‘anywhere’ else, just another ‘elsewhere’ really…..

            Illi stretched out on her back on the golden sand and squinted up at the cloudless deep blue sky. How nice, she thought, not to have any aches and pains, not to have to worry about shifting and those bloody belief systems, how simply lovely to just BE, with no perceived responsibilities, no interruptions…

            Just then out of the corner of her eye, Illi saw movement in the sky. Something was descending onto the island. Illi couldn’t make out what it was, and wished she had a pair of binoculars. Silly Illi, she said to herself, reaching for the binoculars that had appeared beside her. I keep forgetting I can create anything at all.

            Holy Moly! A great fat roly poly nun with a huge jolly grin was wafting down from the heavens, with an irridescent turquoise fairy in tow. They were landing on her island! We’ll see about that! Illi jumped to her feet and stomped off the beach and into the mangroves, sloshing angrily through the watery roots….. until she realized she could hover above the ground, which was a much easier way to travel.

            Hovering was much quieter too, and the jolly fat nun and the bluegreen fairy were quite unaware that Illi was peering at them from behind a peachy hibiscus bush. In fact, the blooms on the hibiscus had grown to a most ridiculous size, and Illi could hardly see past them. She hovered to the side a bit, and decided on impulse to make her presence known to the intruders.

            BOUH! :yahoo_skull:

            #269

            Malvina had been busy opening doors for herself, and thus, for the All.

            Creating the sabulmantium with Leörmn had revealed new potentials to her. And just before putting the final touch to the device, she had felt engulfed in a huge wave and before she knew it, she was talking with someone. A great creative power, which was stemming from herself, and also from which she stemmed too.

            It had named itself Naasir.

            It had revealed to her, in the form of a dark abyss, myriads of unknown potentials waiting for her to leap in faith into them. It had gently requested that she release her hold on the caves openings, so that she could explore more, and also bring more to herself.

            Then Naasir took the form of a great dragon in that abyss, from which roots were growing and pushing their way, slowly and surely, into the rich soil towards the light of their fullness.

            She had then seen the dragon’s arched back and tail shift into a chain of spiked rocks, separating the worlds seas in two. Three of the scales on the right of the dragon’s skin were glimmering, and she could see they were looking for a passage.

            Would she allow that to happen? Yes, she wanted to. Open the doorways, and reunite what was separate, but gently, one at a time.

            Slowly, the kite-shaped rocky plates on the back of the dragon moved apart, to open a slight, safe passage for the glimmering scales. They were caught in the eddies that surged from the opening, but Malvina’s focus helped them to float and cross safely, as they wanted to.

            She then came back to herself, seated in front of the glass-shell dragon egg filled with coloured sand, awed with that power she had just felt through her. She knew it was her own power, and that the device had only allowed it to be expressed, but she had felt wary of how the sabulmantium could be used by others.

            At the same time, Leörmn who was once again the tiny weaszchilla trotting on the wooden table in front of her had laughed squeakingly. And looking at the toy in front of her, she had understood how it could only be used by those who would see beyond the thinly veiled surface. For the uncaring eye, this would only be a toy, mundane and without interest, but for the pure of heart, its help could be harnessed.

            That’s how she’d knew she did not need it any longer, and could release it.

            So, the doors had been opened, and people were feeling the new jewels sparkling behind the dark passages. And gifts from friends could now come across the veils.

            Malvina saw that during the last transmugrification, Leörmn had created an entrance near her laboratory, and it was as if it beckoned her now.

            When she entered, she saw a guéridon table in the middle of a moistly pungent room. On the table, a polished egg was here. She recognized it at once. It had an azure blue glow to it, and fond memories came back to her.

            Back then, she was a young Sorceress in training on the Island of Mörk, in the middle of the Icy Lands, the birth and dying place of the dragons.

            This egg was one from a set of three. It was the first glubolín she’d ever made, along with her two companions. They had kept it to communicate with each other when they parted.

            Malvina, the youngest of the three, had kept the azure blue, and chose to go to the Dragon Head Peninsula.

            Oörlaith had kept the mauve, and went near the town of Kapalÿka, on the Snimeÿa River delta bordering the Marshes of Doom.

            As for Roselÿn, the eldest of the three, she had taken the amber one, and had went as far as anyone would have dared go, flying on her spiked dragon Rëgkvist, past the Great Rift.

            They had kept in touch, but contacts had been more and more sporadic as each were discovering their own new environments, and had ceased altogether, almost at the same time.

            As far as she knew, Roselÿn had been starting her own rookery in the sandy ice deserts of Åsgurdy, mostly hiding there from the superstitious people of that land. And Oörlaith, whom she was closest to, had been devising another funny way to keep people away from her rookery. Her own dragon, the playful Andarión, was shape-shifting as a huge shrimp to pretend that the surroundings were haunted.

            Recalling all these moment, Malvina laughed at how silly they all were, and felt a long to be connecting again with her friends. Would anyone of them be around their own glubolíns?

            #261

            In searching for a sheet of paper to do some sketches of images going through his mind, Bill found an old poem he had started a long time ago, when he was feeling like he was completely transforming himself. He had not finished the poem, but had kept it all along…

            It said:

            I’ve been wandering through the valleys of death
            Where time knows no ending and all is gray
            And shadows seek nothing but oblivion itself
            In mazes of mist, minds’ errands led astray…

            Perhaps it was time to let go of useless things, Bill thought to himself.

            He watched the paper slowly smoldering and shrinking and falling to black and white cinders into the hearth.

            :fleuron:

            Before going to sleep that night, Quintin had the sensation of Janice’s presence. He was surprised, because she was no longer the little girl he had seen at times, but she was a very pretty young woman, with dark wavy hair.

            She had giggled at his surprise, telling him that yes, she was catching up with him…

            :fleuron:

            The City, year 2255 (%)

            Today was Janice’s birthday, but not her birthday as the Ancients, two and half a century from her time, would have counted it. It was counted from the time of the conception, as the future parents in this time were fully aware of the agreements they would have with the soul they would decide to give birth to.

            It was a reminder of this agreement between the parents and the child that was celebrated, and not the actual birth date.

            Janice had felt Cyprus’ presence quite strongly, and she decided to let herself open to the subjective communication. She was conversing with her friend Qixi, and sent her some energy to let her know she would probably remove her attention for a few moments, knowing she would be accepting.

            When she closed her eyes, she could immediately feel herself engulfed by the strong yet smooth energy of Cyprus; it was like being kissed by a swarm of blue sparkling butterflies.

            Then she opened her eyes.

            She was in an ancient classroom, with Cyprus focused as a teacher figure. Cyprus was seated behind her desk and came at once to great Janice.

            — Good morning!
            — Good morning Cyprus, you wanted to say something to me?
            — In actuality, you wanted me to tell you something, answered Cyprus with a mysterious smile.
            — Yes, I thought so. Is it about what I am choosing to do as an activity?
            — Correct.
            — You are aware that I want to be creating of worlds, and give them to people that would have commissioned them…
            — Yes, I am aware. And you wanted me to highlight some misconceptions about that.
            — Oh, misconceptions?
            — Yes. As you know, with these worlds that you create, you have infinite potential of explorations. You also know that they are not independent from the rest, even when you take great care of encapsulating them in an energy field. And as such, they are not cut-off from yourself, as soon as you deliver them.
            — It feels like a tremendous responsibility.
            — It is, and it is not. The responsibility is to yourself, as always. But, I wanted you to be aware that you hold some responsibility, to examine your own injections into these worlds that you create, so that you can be neutralizing what is not desired, and not merely hiding it deeper inside the world itself.
            — OK, I will do that…
            — Ahaha, there is another thing, my dear.
            — Oooh…
            — You also wanted me to make sure you understood what I meant.
            — Ahahaha, I see. Wiggling out won’t be as easy as I thought, Janice said with a smile. So, is it the reason for this classroom?
            — Nothing is hidden from you, as always.

            So Janice took a look at the sheet of paper on top of her own school desk.

            — I’ll be around if you need me, reassured Cyprus.
            — Thank you, said Janice

            The paper was like a spot test, with a few questions on it.

            :fleuron2:

            Study on a Few Contradictory Beliefs

            1. GUILT

            a. An old lord has lost contact with his son, because of harsh things said in the past.

            Write a short story about him realizing how guilt is not effective, and how past can be changed from the point of present by direct action.

            b. Detail the main beliefs you can see associated with this action of guilt.

            2. FEAR

            a. A man chooses to be disengaging by drowning in a river. During his transition, he faces his fears, helped in that by a friendly spirit. The fears take the forms of a forest of trees, all similar, with branches and malicious roots extending to him. In his previous life, the man thought he was a fool, as an excuse to stand out of the numb crowd. But now he faces this crowd again, only to be able to go on his journey and let go.

            Write a short paragraph about his journey. Place yourself from the perspective of both him and the friendly spirit guiding him through his fears, and see how he helps himself in realizing he does not need to push the fears away, and that they can disappear easily.

            b. Detail the beliefs associated with his madness, that he needs to let go of in order to be crossing the forest, and go to the Bridge of Daffoldils that leads to his cave of Self.

            DUPLICITY

            In association with the last two examples, detail how duplicity (belief in good versus bad) is influencing of each of the actions, and can be neutralised by accepting self and trusting that you shall not betray yourself.

            :fleuron:

            Janice gave her paper to Cyprus, who took it and held it for a moment, evaluating the answers.

            Cyprus then made it burst into a bluish dancing flame, and when the paper had disappeared, smiled at Janice lovingly.

            #257

            When Cuthbert came back to bed after having had his cup of cocoa, India Louise was awake too.

            — I saw him too, she said to her brother.
            — I don’t want to see him again, these books are scarey.
            — It’s intriguing, I want to know more, India Louise said, egging on him.
            — When I close my eyes, I got all these roots and webs crawling, it’s mad… I can’t…
            — He has found a friend to help him cross the Dark Forest to the traveling portal.
            — A friend?
            — Yes, a friend. She’s special.
            — Tell me more…
            — She’s a white unicorn, only him can see her.
            — Wow…
            — She’s named Mirÿnda. She’s glowing white, and he hears her speak in his mind, she shows him the way through the forest…

            :fleuron:

            — Mirÿnda?! A fool in saffron robe gallivanting in the forest with a unicorn now? That’s all you could find?

            Tina was taken aback…

            — Well, I could have used a grizzly bear too, now I think of it… Al answered flippantly.
            — Tsk tsk, replied Tina a bit annoyed. And why not a humpback whale, or an arctic lemming, or even… why, a leopard gecko for that matter?… And who’s that Mÿrinda anyway?

            :fleuron:

            — I don’t know any Amanda, Fiona said to Quintin that night. Don’t really know many of Michaela & Elias’ students. She’s Yann friend, right?

            Quintin had answered distractedly, as he was engrossed by his last painting…

            Later that night, he couldn’t find sleep, as the dragon he was painting was still expanding his web of roots and branches in his mind’s eye. He opened his computer to see that Malika was online.

            She told him something that night, something Quintin found abysmally profound and perplexing about his dragon…

            Dragons can shape shift, into anything they want to. There are several doorways/portals that they use for travel into this dimension. Malika said
            — Yes, said Quintin, this drawing has something to do with these portals initially, but I struggle a bit to represent them…
            Yes, so you can just depict it to be flowing, liquid-like energy in the center, when the portal is active.
            There are some that are being shone to me on the bottom of the ocean floor.
            What is being shown to me, is a dragon with a tail much like a mermaid, and hands with webs, big yellow eyes…

            Wow he had thought, she can really see.

            :fleuron:

            Jadra, guided by Mirÿnda, had been moving quite easily through the Dark Forest. Of course, he wouldn’t have dared touch the holy creature, and so he was walking hesitantly behind, taking care of where his bare feet were touching the ground.

            The Dark Forest was bordering the Marshes of Doom, and at times the limits between the two were almost indiscernible. It was said that every foul, err… fool… damn,…

            — Will you stop being so buffoonish! raved Tina again.
            — Perhaps I should let someone else continue then? said Albert.
            — Well, that’s entertaining, replied Becky mechanically.
            — OK. I’ll jump in, said Samuel, with a wide grin.

            It was said that every full moon, the Mighty Shrimp would come from the shores of the Southern Seas and haunt the Marshes in search for souls to be turned into krill, so that he could be the WALRUS (Wrathful Almighty Lord Ruler of Undersea Souls).

            Well, at least, that’s what Jadra had heard in his youth, when you tend to believe everything… So he was weary of the hiki-hiki sounds in the night that might have been the dreaded call of the Mighty Shrimp.

            :fleuron:

            Quintin was having a strange dream. He was a huge whale, along with another one he knew was Yann, swimming powerfully in the vast ocean, passing by strange creatures that could have been mermaids or improbable fishes, when his gaze was attracted by a stream of glittering particles of light.

            The lights were enticing, he would have said even “mouth-watering”, had he not had the baleens full of water already…

            :fleuron:

            Salome was moving through layers of consciousness, something humans focused in physical dimensions would have found difficult to grasp, as it was nothing that could be easily conceptualized. She was, as best as she could put, like a huge cloud of lightness coalescing into a form, when she decided to project her aspect.

            Taking form into a dimension required no effort in actuality, the consensus reality created by all the essences focused into the reality making quite a strong pull. She only needed to move her attention to what she wanted to manifest. Altering her reality slowly around her, to move closer to the desired effect.

            She was not only traveling through time and space, but also through multitudinous layers of dimensions unnoticed to many humans —in fact, she was not really moving, but that was a convenient way of telling things for humans…

            She said “humans”, because she was fond of this particular dimension, where she’d had lots of experiences.

            When moving through the dimensions, it had her projected focus of attention constantly and naturally adapt its form to the psychological environment.

            Here, she had just moved through a honey-drops dimension, where focuses were drops of golden honey-like substance, and as she moved through it, her own aspect had changed to that of a sand-glass shaped drop of honey.

            This was great fun for her to see the ease with which she could focus into this infinite variety of adventures, but for now, her pull was to some more complex physical dimensions.

            She started to move again, de-focusing, past the lazy honey drops.

            The honey drops were now shape-shifting to a whole immense field of snake-like strings of light, and they all started to converge to a direction. She knew the feeling. She followed the strong pull.

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