Search Results for 'sha'

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  • #725
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      After a long but uneventful ride in the yellow gondola cab, Becky stepped out onto terra firma and strolled through the park.

      Various fleeting images of the wedding party flashed through her mind, and she recalled the change in Elvira after the meal. She certainly tucked into that reindeer stew, Becky mused, Had a right good scoff, she did. Funny, anyone eating four helpings of that slop would be expected to slump in a chair for an hour or two, but Elvira had sprung into life. She looked pretty good for 121 years old, but who would have guessed what a splendid dancer she was! She put the younger guests to shame with her fancy steps, and tireless enthusiasm.

      And not only that, she’d really come into her own when the drunken fights started, fearlessly breaking up fights between men twice her size.

      #717
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Becky, Becky, wake up… Lordy, she’s really in denial, you’re right sweet pea…
        We’ve got to rush now, all the people are already arrived now, and we’ve got to go to the civil ceremony now
        Yes, yes, we’ve got plenty of rice for you Becky
        What? Yes, I suppose she ate those mushrooms that were in the blue mud package. They were only supposed to be rehydrated and applied on the face, not eaten… Now she’ll be delirious for quite some hours…
        Peregrine, Guinevere, kids, yes, take that dress, and take good care of the bride herself, she’s not much on her two feet today…

        Al was doing his best to apply all the self-centering techniques he knew and not let things get awry now… Glad he had Tina to help, her practical senses sharp as ever.

        #713
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Becky was far too happy to mind the snide undercurrents she could sense from poor jealous Tina. Dear Tina, she’d had eyes for Sean all along, Becky had known right from the start.

          Becky smiled kindly as she said to Tina: You’re such a sweetie pooh, Tina. I’m so glad you’re going to be such a big part of our special day.

          And then Becky threw her arms around her in a great telepathic energy bear hug and said ‘I love you, Tina’.

          Tina visibly quailed, Becky accurately remotely viewed, and her complexion turned an alarming shade of blotchy green. Tina spun round to the toilet, retching, thanking her lucky stars that she was already in the bathroom and close to the lavatory.

          #1898
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            tjmarshall57: hahahaha as if it’s not bad enough with the weeding, now poor girl has blotches all over her face!
            tjmarshall57: wedding not weeding
            tjmarshall57: do russian wear velis?
            tjmarshall57: veils
            tjmarshall57: hhhm, blessing by a shaman, plaiting together of the couples hair….(is Becky still blad?)
            tjmarshall57: The biggest concern at the wedding is to have enough liquor. A Russian Wedding is an event where everybody must be drunk. No one will be surprised if people drink themselves to unconscious on the wedding – and many do.
            tjmarshall57: well, that will appeal to Sean
            tjmarshall57: You are probably surprised to find out that a Russian wedding lasts for 2 days!! (Well, at least. Some weddings last as long as a week, and this is something to be proud of and remember for years: it means the couple had enough liquor to go on and on, and enough devoted friends to stay.)
            tjmarshall57: The Russian church ceremony is colorful and solemn but the complete traditional ceremony is very long, and as guests and the couple have to stand during the ceremony (there are no benches in Russian churches at all; people must stand during all church services), faints are not rare.
            tjmarshall57: right, so a fair amount of fainting and drunkeness then
            tjmarshall57: Then the witnesses continue running the wedding, reading jokes and poems, and sometimes asking the new couple questions to make fun of them.
            tjmarshall57: Franci will you be my witness, you’d be perfect
            tjmarshall57: “Za molodykh!” (“For the newlywed!”)
            tjmarshall57: Traditionally money is considered as the best gift, and is given in an envelope. Some time after the beginning of the reception when people start to become drunk the witnesses will ask everybody to give their gifts and one of the witnesses will collect envelopes from the rest of the guests with a tray.
            tjmarshall57: Then people have time to dance. First dance is opened by the new couple. After the music starts, there is no exact script anymore, and witnesses can relax a little. They still occasionally announce a toast but do not entertain the guests with jokes and poems; guests by this time are already having lots of fun and are able to entertain themselves.

            Movements become quite hectic; some people go out “to refresh”, and at some moment in this movement the bride gets… “stolen”! She disappears, and when the groom starts looking for her, he is faced with a request for a ransom. Usually it’s his buddies who “steal” the bride. A more or less short wrangle about the amount, and he can have his new wife back. But he must watch out – the bride sometimes may be stolen a few times!

            tjmarshall57: right, so we have drunkeness, fainting, jokes, poems and insults, and theft and abduction
            tjmarshall57: Then there are the bride’s friends – they steal the bride’s shoe. The groom must pay ransom for the shoe too – the guests enjoy watching wrangles.
            tjmarshall57: Often guests leave the wedding in such a condition that they cannot remember what happened. If this was the case with the majority of guests, then the wedding was a huge success
            tjmarshall57: AHA! This is the key! I will write about it after the wedding, when nobody can remeber anything about it
            tjmarshall57: Day two of the wedding:After the meal the bride must “clean” the floor in the room. The fun part is that guests are allowed to mess as much as they want while she is cleaning
            tjmarshall57:
            tjmarshall57: another part for you!
            tjmarshall57: guests on a Russian wedding enjoy it much more than the newlywed couple who are all the time made fools of.
            tjmarshall57: The most popular period for wedding ceremonies in Russia was between the Christmas and Shrovetide (a week before the spring fast). This period was called the wedding period.
            tjmarshall57: well, the timing is right
            tjmarshall57: One of the many superstitions still prevailing among the peasant population of Russia is that, on the occasion of a marriage, the happiness of the newly-married couple is not assured unless the parents of the contracting parties are soaked with water from head to foot. When a marriage takes place in summer this is easily accomplished by ducking the fathers and mothers in the nearest river, but in winter they are laid on the ground and rolled in the snow.
            tjmarshall57: who are the parents?
            tjmarshall57: Among the Koraks of Siberia a young man seeks for a maiden with considerable dowry in the form of rein-deer
            tjmarshall57: oh, well we can have psychoactive reindeer pies, anyway
            tjmarshall57: Kovalevsky has well shown that many of the marriage customs of this country are survivals from a primitive and prehistoric age when the woman ruled the household and had more than one husband.
            tjmarshall57: hhmmmm
            tjmarshall57: it all points to a distant age when the matriarchal system prevailed, and the brother was his sister’s guardian. In Little Russia the brother’s sword is decked with the red berries of the rowan tree, red being the emblem of maidenhood.
            tjmarshall57: red fruit sync!
            tjmarshall57: no wonder I threw the cherries away!
            tjmarshall57: ahahahahha!
            franci_free: oh hrllo
            franci_free: goodness
            franci_free: will need to read back
            tjmarshall57: hahahah oh there you are
            franci_free: well what a complicated theme
            tjmarshall57: haahah well
            franci_free: you will have to write about the wedding
            tjmarshall57: the key to the whole thing is that everyone was so drunk that nobody can remeber any of it aftrwards
            franci_free: hahahah
            franci_free: great!
            tjmarshall57: thats my angle, I think
            franci_free:
            tjmarshall57: and s few things fit perfectly
            tjmarshall57: the red fruit
            tjmarshall57: the time of year
            tjmarshall57: the drunkeness, Sean will love that
            franci_free: the splotches?
            tjmarshall57: well, nobody will remeber that
            tjmarshall57: afterwards

            #1426
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Actually, the meaning of snoot in photography is quite interesting too…

              Snoot: A cone shaped shield used on spotlights to direct a cone of light over a small area.

              #1321

              In reply to: Pictures Pool

              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Here follows a list of pictures related to various threads of the story.


                Various sketches and early comments on the story inception — most of which can be now also found in the thread named Yuki’s Livrary — including sketches of some of the early characters (Malvina, Leormn, Dory, Fiona/Finn, Yann, Quintin/Yurick etc.), Dory’s map from her sketching book, a partial map of the Duane, and also Chiara and Buckberry


                Concept Sketches, with Badul in Asgurdy, Tomkin Sharple on the shores of Golfindely, and Becky in New Venice

                Naasir’s dream, an immersive panorama, where you may find some of the recurring animal representations in a dream-like essence land…

                Princesses and fairies are to be acknowledged too with Mævel, and her legend and the Weaving Princess



                Georges, and Salomé

                Other-dimensional creatures, like The Snoot and a Nirgual (found on the Murtuane)

                #703

                So you have requested audience… a deep voice, hoarse as a water’s torrent running and jumping on a river bed smothered with pebbles, asked from the darkness.

                Midora was not afraid of the darkness. As best as she could explain it, it was the void of creation, where everything came from, and where all was stripped of intrinsic meaning. It was from this place that she could reach for the answers.

                She knew this place, she felt memories swirling around, as uncatchable as a swarm of short-lived sparkles born from the reddish embers of a dying fire.
                In this lifetime, she was only a eleven year old girl, but she was as old as this voice within her. There was a time where she was playing with that voice, a time where her being was not yet, and yet a time which was in her future.
                She was pure consciousness in that dream time space, and yet, she was feeling more comfortable with physical symbols around herself. So she focused on one of the symbols that she knew would help her stabilize her vibration, and in doing so, all the small particles of golden light around her started to swirl and coalesced into a dream body.

                She was in front of a cave, in a mountainous area. This body provided her a slowing down of the stream of information that came to her, and she could manipulate more efficiently the interaction with that huge presence she felt. The precipitous rocky environment was a symbol of that steadiness and slowing down and also, for her benefit of her beliefs in that acquiring such information might be a difficult task.
                Now she had identified it, she could more easily dispel the obstacles on the path to the cave. The cave of course, was her symbol for reaching into her deep inner nature. And the darkness was only a fitting blank canvas for herself to project and translate the energy interactions.
                All of that she knew, as it was knowledge embedded into herself that she could more easily access into this trance-like state, in her room in that location in space and time of 2112 in New Venice. And she knew that also for she was taught by her parents, Bart and Oscar, on how to access it.

                The voice was inside the cave. And no sooner had she thought of it that she was finding the whole place morphing into a vast room built into the rock, in the middle of which a majestic golden dragon was slowly breathing.
                She had translated the vast energy as that of a dragon, but she knew when she felt into it that it had possible variations, one of which being that of a she-phoenix, of various sizes, where sizes where symbolic of its age and wisdom.

                You may call me Naasir the dragon grinned at Midora. You are right, in a sense, you can consider yourself being born from me, though in your true form, you are equally august and splendid as I am. You will, in time, have access to that form, again. But for now, I can provide some answers to your questions. The only thing is… Are your questions up to the challenge? he added with the most benevolent smirk his wide toothed grin could convey.

                Midora pondered for a moment, beholding the perfection of her translation of the energy. Each scale on the body of the dragon was a work of art. His half-closed eyes, with an amber shiny center, and teal border were equally mesmerizing.

                :fleuron:

                — What is the significance of these books I have inherited from my parents?

                As you know, this place is the place were significance fades away, or radiates, depending on the direction in which you look, only to be replaced by fulfillment. Your… books hence, have no significance, I would say, for me at least. What do you want to know about them?

                — They were passed from people to people, and as far as I understood, they started to be imprinted with these people’s stories, starting from my grand-parents Indy and Cuthbert. But there are still blank pages inside them, and no seeming order from one page to the other. I think that’s why my grand-parents grew tired of it.

                Continue…

                — What I mean is… I feel attracted to them, and yet I don’t understand how they work…

                These… are not mere books as your ancestors understood them. In fact, they were crafted by a distant civilization, not denizens from this dimension in which you are presently focused, but travelers, with whom you can still interact by means of this device. When the “books” traveled into this dimension, they retained their initial properties and functioning, but their initial shapes were translated into something as close as you could understand so that you would allow them to appear into your reality. This knowing might help you unravel their true nature.

                Another thing. Books are energy deposits, in your reality. There was a misunderstanding in that they were thought to be able to liber or to free your memory by imprinting it into the pages, but memories are alive and not separate from you. They live as you live and change them. So, the books are still being written, and that which you can read is the part of the book which is the most probable story in which you choose to insert yourself, so as to explore it. You can alter these probabilities, even if you might doubt it, but as you chose them, they are much a part of your design of your reality, that which you chose to explore. In short, a complete book means the end of your exploration, and prompts for a disengagement for you to continue other explorations, and on the contrary, a blank books means a boundless realm of probable explorations.

                — Can you tell me why there are two of them?

                They are more than a couple. These ones are the only known ones that your ancestors happen to have found. Most of them have been destroyed over time in this dimension, as their possibilities were heavily cloaked. They are all linked together, as you will find out. You may gather some answers in finding Badul

                And with that, Midora was once again floating in an intermediate state hung between space and time, longing for her physical body. She woke up strangely energized…

                #702

                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!

                #1684

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  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? :p

                  #701

                  I must be talking to an angel Yurick thought, as he was feeling the presence of the lady he had seen in his dreams a few times before. Her presence was remarkably soft, yet, she was unmistakably here, like a loving sisterly figure. Yurick could see at times streaks of a shimmering blue-green halo when he was thinking of her, and this morning, walking in the underground corridors, as he was humming and thinking of this angel, his gaze landed on a movie poster, with beautiful women profiles. None of these profiles had attracted his gaze at first, but a name. Salomé.
                  Then only, the poster slowly began to unfold itself into focus around that name…
                  The women were beautiful and seemed to be like beams of a multitude of variations from a single energy essence, like some traditional Avalokiteshvara (Kuan Yin) representations.
                  The title of that movie was “Les Femmes de l’Ombre” (Women of the Shadow), and that “Salomé” he had seen was the name of the director… How interesting symbolic information…

                  While she reminded him not of the Salomé of Wilde’s play, but of another biblical figure, the Salomé of the New Testament, follower of the Christ, and likely sister of Mary, Yurick decided he would call that gentle feminine presence “Salomé”…
                  A woman of the Shadow. For now…

                  #698
                  Jib
                  Participant

                    Another element of the dream was coming again and again… this girl, she was with a huge creature… the shapes were not clear though the image was colorful… It was like a picture of her with her… dragon? Two names came to his mind : Lola and Asiir . The funny part is that he felt one of his friends was connected to her also in a closer way… and he had a message from her just this noon. :-?

                    Were they connected to the girl that needed help?

                    #695
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      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.

                      #687

                      Kay wasn’t sure about what happened after that.
                      Akita was laughing, a slow and deep laugh. His face was changing oddly as his energy was generating different speeds and movements.
                      And Anita was laughing too and speaking about a big pink pig, melting around Akita.
                      That’s when Kay began feeling the difference in energy. The 4 other essences were observing with a strong interest what was hapenning to the man, and other essences were arriving… so many of their attentions here, the place was quite crowded and Kay was beginning to feel overwhelmed. All the surrounding area was oscillating dangerously.
                      It was like a hole in the veils between the dimensions, and it was frightening Kay.

                      Kay took his decision quickly. He jumped. Bit Akita’s leg.

                      The sharp pain was apparently enough to stop whatever was happening.
                      Akita was shouting, swearing with rage, and that was familiar and reassuring to Kay.
                      Whatever it was, Kay would not let it happen again, and the spiders were not involved. Nothing to do with their energy.

                      #685

                      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?

                      #1678

                      In reply to: Synchronicity

                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        tjmarshall57: ahhaah I did the next one
                        franci_free: :yahoo_raised_eyebrow:
                        franci_free: 11:11
                        tjmarshall57: :yahoo_big_grin:
                        tjmarshall57: OH well, it must be more meaningful than we thought
                        franci_free: hahahaha

                        #1677

                        In reply to: Synchronicity

                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          tjmarshall57: I better make the next synch comment, its 157
                          franci_free: oh good well
                          franci_free: do you need help
                          tjmarshall57: no I just tossed out a short rather pointless comment
                          franci_free: okay well i hope it isn’t too rubbish
                          tjmarshall57: just to keep my comments tally up and get the 57 one
                          tjmarshall57: fairly rubbish really
                          tjmarshall57: but it shows I am IN the loop and Paying attention
                          franci_free: well i did 158
                          tjmarshall57: ahahhahaha

                          #1672

                          In reply to: Synchronicity

                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            Shasta was mentioned…Jib dreamed that I asked Eric to go to Mt Shasta, and I remarked that the last time I spoke to Raven was about Shasta…..I am delighted about Raven getting the joke and I never really minded about the doily…… :yahoo_eyelashes:

                            #1670

                            In reply to: Synchronicity

                            F LoveF Love
                            Participant

                              :yahoo_big_hug:

                              The other day .. yesterday … ? Raven’s name came up. Was it in relation to a dream of Sashi, Stasha, Sahahahahaha? … or something?

                              Well no matter, the point is that Tracy mentioned him. Well I didn’t know much about Raven, just that he made me laugh. There are a couple of jokes we had that stood out for me, and I am sorry Tracy … but I have to be honest …. one was the picture of Tracy with a sort of funny head thing on with baubles on it she sometimes posted as her avatar. And Raven put a note in my blog saying “should we tell Tracy she is wearing a doily on her head?” and this joke went on for some time because we both found it hysterically funny. Well I am not sure if Tracy did. :yahoo_worried: He often posted funny pictures as well, one of these I had swiped off his blog at one point because I liked it. (It was a funny road sign )

                              Well yesterday I had been thinking of Raven wondering where he had got to, and my sister sent me an email with an attachment of this same picture of RAven’s I had swiped. Then I went for a walk down the road and there was a woman with A DOILY ON HER HEAD! (It was a real doily, maybe she was trying to keep the sun from her head, I am not sure) anyway, thinking of Raven, I started laughing to myself, (quietly), and I swear I could sense Raven feeling delighted that I had got the joke.

                              Hope that all makes sense, it is quite early and I am having trouble waking today. :yahoo_yawn:

                              :yahoo_rose: a rose for the maligned doily

                              #1666

                              In reply to: Synchronicity

                              Jib
                              Participant

                                I just read Eric’s last comment and noticed that at the end of it it is about Dutch experts and creating a dam and stuff :p well today I was in the metro and heard 2 men talking about a similar subject, architecture stuff and sharing there experiences and thoughts. I wanted to make it a sync :) since I wouldn’t read the comment yesterday but today.

                                And also I wanted to write something because it was such a long time since I last wrote something or had any impulse to write a comment in the story… it’s more like all is currently suspended.

                                #1659

                                In reply to: Synchronicity

                                F LoveF Love
                                Participant

                                  today I learned Anu’s essence name is Pashi. I thought i had a “Pashi” synch but when I came to write it out i realised it was not the same word. Well the feel of it made me think of Anu, it is about a young girl who writes poems ….. so I am including it here:yahoo_laughing:

                                  It is from a book I picked up to read:

                                  “She had gone on a nature walk and collected plants and flowers she needed help naming. When she didn’t like the names one of the Science Nerds provided, she decided to name the plants and flowers herself. She drew a picture of a leaf or a blossom in her journal, and then what sex she thought it was, and then give it a name like ‘Jim” for a simple-leaved plant and ‘Pasha’ for a more downy flower”

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